Uppity

I briefly had my own weekly comedy showcase at a little dive bar here in Orlando with a fellow comedian,. Sometimes it was funny, most times it wasn't. Sometimes there was a great crowd, sometimes we were telling jokes to one guy.

One night, we've got a few people in there having some drinks. There are signs all over town stating that there's an 18+ comedy show at this bar and it is going to be dirty. There's a flier for the show taped to every flat surface in the bar, including in the shitters. 

I'm not known as an "insult" comic; I do, however, play with a crowd. And they *almost always love it.

On this night, two 4.5s walk in to have a drink. Eight 'o clock hits, we rev up the show. They're a couple of years older than me, but not in a bad way at all. I start in with a bit about how sexy I think women older than me are (that's true). I ask one how old she is, and we laugh and have a little banter, then she says, "I'm 33." I do some catcalling, some whistling. Just doing my "sexy older woman," bit, then she blurts out, "no, no, no. I'm 21."

Pause.

Ammunism

I support gun control 100%. I know, I know... fuck me, right? Call me batshit crazy, but for some reason (not supported by American politicians in the least) I still believe in the American political process and do not think that the government is out to kill me, give me cancer, experiment on me, poison my groundwater, monitor me masturbating on the toilet via satellite, listen to my phone conversations consisting of calls to the non-emergency line at the Orlando Police Department to have them send an officer out to tell the Venezuelans next door to turn down that fucking garbage Reggaeton at 1:30am on a Tuesday (that took a dark turn), or subliminally control my mind.

Even if that is all true, just calm down and wait until Skynet handles it.

The Bums Lose

I recently read a blog from someone I know that piqued my interest. If you don't know him by now, check out Jeremy's blog here. Once you've read it, come on back...

Done? Good.

Noble words, eh? But tender words don't put a roof over heads or food in mouths. As Rachel Dawes told Bruce Wayne, "It's not who we are underneath, but what we do that defines us." You can love all you want, but eventually, your wife and son will wonder why, if you loved them so much, you didn't do more to better your own life and, in turn, theirs. 

Pendulum of Sexism

The other day, I mentioned to my wife in a half-joking way that I'd love to be a stay at home dad. I was playing with my son at the time, tickling the piss out of him and chasing him all over the place. When I looked back at her after I said that, she looked at me as if I'd just told her I was gay. No, not with resigned expectancy. It was slack-jawed disbelief.

"No, you don't mean that," she said.

"Of course I do. I'm a better cook, better at cleaning the house, better at laundry, and I play with the kid way more. Plus, I hate working. It just makes sense." Again, I was joking, but also kind of serious.