this weekend generation bob dips his baby toe into the oft chilly pond of stand-up comedy.
unlike improv, stand-up allows you to mull over your routine ad nausea. that's 450 practices during work-hours alone. i'm way to compulsive for this industry.
i carry a full list of oscar "best pictures" in my wallet.... if i don't know what to rent, i can always pick a classic movie of cinematic importance.
i have never used it.
i also never watch the oscars. they don't award my movies [little miss sunshine vs the departed].
sometimes every tree needs good pruning.
stand-up classes gather minneapolis' ribald class clowns into one mat-covered room. having no historically accurate narrative about my life, i have been dubbed the following:
[a] a living frank zappa
[b] matthew perry with coked-out hair
which is most fitting?
At 5:45 (Central Time) Snickers "Turkey Dog" Hanson passed away. She had been unusually somber the last day, so Dad tried to regale her spirits with Chicken for two. (People food, playing ball and walks never failed to delight her. ) After dinner, she quietly surveyed her backyard dominion one last time. The austere spring air coaxed her to stay out as long as nature would allow. Dignified and clear in spirit, she pittered back to her favorite hallway napping ground, where she gracefully tucked her head between her paws and heaved that peaceful sigh of contentment.
since i was born, the sheep population [new zealand] has decreased from 70 million to 40 million.
trains don't even account for 1% of passenger trips taken within new zealand.
sadly, sheep now comprise less than .0002% of new zealand train conductors.
existentialism: devoting all your time to arts and academics only to realize that future generations won't care because those people don't pass on their jeans.
* empty gift card
* recently thrown away receipt with timestamp you can point to.
"I just returned this sweater... but they wouldn't give me cash, so they credited this gift card [sympathy]. I can't find anything I want [more sympathy], so would you buy this gift card from me at 75% of its value [the hook]. Here's the receipt [build trust]... if you want to use my cell phone, you can call to verify the card [impractical offer, but more trust]..."
scamee hands over $10. scammer heads straight for the door, but not suspiciously fast.
i immediately went to a cashier to verify the card after our transaction. waiting in line was the LONGEST two minutes of my life. luckily, everything was legit.... this time... but i'll never again hand over money without verifying the card first.... no matter how grisly and smoke-filled his voice sounds...
i am awkwardly aged. my peers are old enough to get married, but too young for their first divorce. ergo, the dating pool is dryer than my wit.
[t/j]im in the office [up and coming] deals with this reality by pining for the secretary [engaged, co-worker]. is this good tv or the social norm? reality shows have blurred my judgment.
when, if ever, are people off limits? dating someone else? engaged? married? dead? a co-worker? relative? healer of computers?
note of scientifics: this this question has a 0.0 correlation to my valentine's day plans.
some days everything you should write will get you in trouble with someone... or fired...
so instead, i write about the terrible cold that drove enough bikers indoors that the janitors had to put up indoor warning signs about bikers.
i carry 2-5 matches in my coat pocket.
a blond lounge singer reaches for a cigarette. before she can say, "do you have a....", a robust flame will roar between my fingers. a few puffs later i'll be gone. who could ever date a smoker?