What's Hot with the Kids These Days II

I know you all count on me to bring you the latest trends in teenybopper-land, so I wanted to share with you a recent discovery of mine. (The fact that it is a recent to me does not mean it is recent, of course. I usually pick up on things anywhere between 6-12 months after thirteen-year-olds pick up on them. That said, I pick up on them about a year before regular adults would, so this is still a valid service I'm providing.)

Here is what I've discovered: Miranda Sings.

That's her in the red sweatpants. You may notice she has her arm around THEE Jerry Seinfeld. Jerry Seinfeld is with-it.

I first learned of Miranda Sings on Halloween when one of my students dressed up as her (the basic look is bobby pins, sweat pants, and a lot of red lipstick). Then last week someone turned in a video assignment doing an impression of Miranda Sings, and everyone went crazy for it. So I investigated.

Miranda Sings is a character created by an actress named Colleen Ballinger. She started making YoutTube videos as "Miranda" where she sings pop songs poorly. People started following her, and now she makes tons of videos as Miranda doing all sorts of things, like this one: http://youtu.be/zTnXw0F_iYY.

I am drawn to Miranda for reasons I cannot explain, but what put me over the edge was her recent appearance on Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee hosted by comedy icon Jerry Seinfeld. Why would Seinfeld have her on, when other guests have included Larry David, Kevin Hart, and Sarah Silverman? Surely Miranda is not yet up to that level? Do you think he was just looking to cash in to the younger audience? (Most "MirFANda's are middle-schoolers). Or is he really a fan? Tell me!!!!

Also, why doesn't Jerry Seinfeld read this blog and ask me to be his friend?

So there you have it. Miranda Sings is a THING. It's a thing you should know about. And that's why I'm here. 

Halloween

I meant to post this yesterday, but in all of the craziness it slipped my mind.

It is my favorite tribute to Halloween ever.

Link HERE.

A couple random thoughts on Halloween:

1) Why are preschoolers so obsessed with being the one to ring the doorbell? Why????? If it weren't for doorbells, I would have had a better Halloween. Just saying.

2) How can this candy be so good on the first bite and then make me want to vomit so much? And why do I keep eating it despite it making me want to barf? What is in there?

Okay bye I'm going to go eat more of that now.

What's Your Sign?

In this day and age, mass communication is literally at the tips of our fingers. If I want to invite sixty people to my house tonight, I can do it in a matter of minutes (I'm not doing that -- don't come over). If I want to tell the world I love brownies, I can just tweet it. Then, in an instant, all three people who follow me on Twitter will know I love brownies.

It's amazing.

And yet, even with this technology being so accessible, when we really want to make a statement and share it with the world -- I mean really get it out there -- we go old-school. Like, old-old school. We get out the magic markers and make big signs.

Going out in public and physically standing next to your message is a lot more powerful than posting it next to your picture on Facebook. There are no privacy-control settings on a poster board -- anyone can see it.

This is why I am often so surprised by the ignorant things people write on signs.

According to signs, God hates so many things. Lately, he seems to hate gay people and gay marriage in particular. I wonder, where are these sign-makers getting their information? Whenever I ask God what he hates, he says genocide. And pistachios.

Of course there are other, less hateful reasons to make a good sign. For example you might be supporting someone during a marathon, or panhandling.

I once made some pretty amazing marathon signs . . . but that is a topic for another entry. We don't have all day, guys. You need to get back to work.

Instead, here are some tips for sign-making. Refer to this entry the next time you are attending a political rally, or running for student-council president:

1. First, you need to go to Walgreens and buy the poster board. I don't know why, but Walgreens always has poster board. If you're really serious, you might want to pony up the extra dough for foam core. It will hold up better if people throw stuff at it.

Did you think you could just tape some regular pieces of printer paper together? Are you an idiot?

2. Once you have the canvas, you'll need the paint. This might mean literal paint, or a chisel-tip sharpie, or large words from the printer cut and pasted. No matter what, your objective is clarity. If they can't read it, they can't heed it! Am I right?

3. Important: spell-check! I can't tell you how many hardcore sign-holders have blown their cause by lack of proofreading. I mean honestly. If you hate gay marriage enough to make a sign about it, maybe look up how to spell marriage.

4. Finally, once your sign is complete, you need to get out there and hold the crap out of it. Some people like to wear their sign, which can be easier on the arms and shoulders, but can also look lazy; use your best judgement.

Note: If you've been hired to draw in more customers for Little Caesars, then you're going to have to do some spinning and dancing. That's advanced-level stuff.

A lot of people don't care about anything enough to go out in public and hold up a sign about it, for example me. So to the people standing on street corners asking me to honk for peace, I respect you. But to the people religiously condemning others for their life choices, you should know that the only thing God hates is genocide, pistachios, and probably your sign.

Though I couldn't say for sure.

Father's Day-Related Comedy Recommendations That You Don't Really Care About Because Father's Day Was Yesterday

In honor of Father's Day, I was just watching one of my favorite stand-up bits from Chris Rock about "real daddys." It's from his old special "Bigger and Blacker" and it is funny. If you don't mind a lot (I mean a lot) of swearing, then you should watch it by clicking HERE.

Another hilarious fatherly-thing you should check out is Jim Gaffigan's new book Dad Is Fat.

My husband received it for Father's Day, despite not being fat himself. If you were worried that you had to be a fat dad to enjoy this book, don't! It is funny for everyone. I read the first couple chapters and already love it.

Finally, not related to Father's Day at all, a friend emailed me this link last week and it's pretty amusing if you -- like so many -- question people's usage of the app Instagram. If you don't know what Instagram is (like for example my own dad) then maybe just skip it.

Link HERE.

THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, NOTRE DAME, and THE YANKEES

Image HERE.

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 What do the United States of America, Notre Dame, and the New York Yankees all have in common? I bet you don’t know. You think you do, but you don’t. Okay, I’ll tell you.

People hate them.

Part 1: USA

The first time I visited another continent was to Spain for a high-school Spanish trip. We travelled around the beautiful country, visiting Churches and museums and Aquaductos. I learned a lot on that trip, like the fact that vodka burns when it gets in your eyes, and tapas can be hit or miss.

But the most important lesson I learned while abroad was that Americans are not as popular in other countries as they are in America (Tom Hanks being the exception, of course). Americans on the whole are not known for being intelligent, or generous, or brave like we’re raised to believe. We are known for being loud, bold, and self-entitled.

And fat.

Sidenote: my brother-in-law is not from the U.S., and when my nephew is being naughty, he says: “Stop that. That’s very bold!”

Can you believe that?  Bold is synonymous with naughty in other countries. Here, we value boldness. We pride ourselves on it. Like this: “It was very bold how you yelled at that man about your omelet, Harold. Kiss me!” You know, like that.

After a very short while in Spain, I learned that being American was not something to publicize about oneself. Strangers would approach with big grins and say in English, “you’re American, no?” If we said yes, they would try to con us, or rob us, or make out with us. If we said we were Canadian, they would only try to make out with us. Because American or not, we were still adorable.

Conclusion: People don’t like Americans because they think they are loud, stupid, and rude.

Part Two: ND

I went to college at the University of Notre Dame in Indiana. It was great. I learned stuff and met people and never got any vodka in my eyes. College success!

People who go to Notre Dame (usually) like Notre Dame. That was my experience when I was there. The students I met had chosen to attend, and attended with pleasure. We would say things like: I like it here! Notre Dame is fun! Go Irish!

Now that I am removed from this brief period in my life, I encounter fewer people who like Notre Dame, and more people who hate it. They just hate it; and they like to tell me they hate it. Like this:

Person: Where’d you go to school?

Me: Notre Dame

Person: Notre Dame sucks!

Me: Oh.

I once worked with a guy who never said anything to me without following it with “or is it not Notre Dame enough for you?” For example,

Do you want to sit down, or is this chair not Notre-Dame enough for you?

Are you having fun, or is this party not Notre-Dame enough for you?

Will you send that email, or is email not Notre-Dame enough for you?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA you are so funny, guy! I feel like I am watching episode after episode of Two and a Half Men when I’m with you!

Conclusion: People hate Notre Dame because they think it’s pretentious and overrated.

Part 3: NYY

I am not from New York, nor am I a fan of Yankees Baseball, but I recognize that the Yankees have the same problem as the U.S. and Notre Dame. That is, people hate them.

Yankees fans love the Yankees, but no one else. There is actually a legitimate piece of musical theater written entirely about how much people hate the Yankees – that’s how hated they are.

Do I hate the Yankees, you ask? Only a little bit. Derek Jeter is just too smirky. Like, what are you smiling about, Derek Jeter? Just play baseball. You’re not that great.

Not only do people hate the Yankees, they love hating the Yankees. It’s fun. Going to a Yankees game [not at Yankee Stadium] is a hot ticket because everyone can go and boo the Yankees together.

Conclusion: People hate the Yankees because it’s fun and community-building.

SUMMARY:

People like to hate things. There’s something cathartic about just really, truly, super-duper hating the crap out of something. You don’t need to repress this urge, you just need to find an appropriate place to direct your feelings.

If you are someone who is looking for somewhere to direct your hate, but don’t want to look like a jerk, consider this helpful advice.

1. Find something that has enjoyed success and privilege: these make the perfect things to hate! J

2. Find a large group of people to hate it with you. (Hating alone can look mean.)

Appropriate options for your hate:

1. Yankees

2. Hipsters

3. Notre Dame

4. Hockey players

5. People who don’t signal their turns when driving

INAPPROPRIATE options for your hate:

1. Children

2. Social classes

3. Specific nationalities or races

4. Gay people

5. Scientists

This would make a great PSA. Cue the jingle: The-more-you-know!

$#@%&*

What are your thoughts on swearing/cursing?

Go on, I'm listening.

Well sure. That makes sense.

Okay.

Thank you.

For the most part, I keep it clean on this blog. I don't usually find swearing necessary for my jokes, and I know it will make my mom mad. So I avoid it.

The same was true when I did real stand-up. It annoyed me when comics did sets in which the swear words got more laughs than the actual jokes. It's true that if you throw down some colorful language, some people are going to laugh. It might just be because they are uncomfortable, but sometimes that's all you've got.

When I am feeling particularly high-horsey, like right now, I judge comics who are offensive instead of being clever. Raunchy stories about gross sexual encounters do not appeal to me, nor do they appeal to the extremely long-legged horse on which I currently sitting.

There are some comics, though, who are both offensive and ingenious. They say pretty terrible stuff, but the language is complementing the joke, not the other way around. Dave Chapelle comes to mind, and Louis CK.

There are also many dirty-yet-smart television shows out there; although they can be hard to tell apart from the dirty-and-stupid shows. Shows like South Park and It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia are often extremely offensive, but they're also insightful (most of the time).

These comics and TV shows are not for everyone, I know.We all have different limits for what we can handle when it comes to jokes, and tolerances change as you go through life. For example, now that I am a mother I can't handle jokes about babies coming to harm (have you ever heard a "dead baby" joke? They've always been stupid, but now I can't stand them).

For the most part, though, I am willing to put up with a lot if the joke is good.

Some people who should never watch a show like South Park or It's Always Sunny are kids -- specifically middle-school kids. It's not that they've never heard these words or are too impressionable (those are valid points) -- it's because they don't understand the context of the jokes or how to interpret them.

I've heard students make awful jokes, only to find they were repeating something they saw on TV. People like to blame the TV shows for this, but why are kids watching those shows in the first place? Does everything on TV need to be child-appropriate?

South Park once did a show about the n-word, and it was one of the most thoughtful explanations of cultural ignorance I've ever seen. Seriously. However, to a twelve year old, it was just a random series of jokes that used an incredibly offensive word. They aren't mature enough to understand those jokes aren't okay for the lunch line the next day.

As long as I'm up on my high horse I'll say that some adults have this problem, too. They just laugh at the bad words and repeat them out of context, without ever understanding why the jokes were written in the first place. Comedy writers (the good ones) are smart people. They use objectionable content to highlight what's wrong the world, so that it's easier to face.

Here you thought this was going to be a post about hilarious swear words, and now I've gone all Dear Abby on you. Well just deal with it, okay? I am an introspective person who sometimes drinks wine and feels important.

Love Letter

[Photo HERE.] How much do I love it when Zach Galifianakis hosts Saturday Night Live? How much?

Answer: So much.

Honestly I haven't even seen last weekend's episode beyond the opening monologue, but I already know the monologue is my favorite part. His stand-up is so bizarrely funny, and borderline off-putting, I don't even fully understand why I love it. But I do.

I'm sure there are many people out there who do not like his stand-up, which makes sense because it's very weird. But I think that makes him more impressive, because he doesn't write crowd-pleasers.  He is a strange comedy genius.

Here are links to two of his three SNL monologues so far. You can also Netflix his stand-up special "Live at the Purple Onion." Just know in advance you may hate it.


2013 (not the best quality, but the only one I could find)

2012

The F-Word

It's time to talk about something serious.

No, not the ever-changing font on this blog (I'm working on it).

It's time to talk about farts.

Let me first say that I grew up in a house where "fart" was the F-word. The real F-word wasn't even on the radar in my house. Fart was as bad as it got. The fact that I've used the F-word three times in this post already is already making me feel ashamed. And my mother has shut her laptop, again.

Some people grew up in houses where farts were hilarious. I'm told many of these houses were male-dominated. Something about guys and farts, I don't know, it's just magic, I guess. I can recall a family from my childhood that had five boys, and they were big into farts. Farts were all the rage around their house.

But in our house -- no. This was not discussed. We didn't even have cutesie euphemisms like "toot" or "foofer." (Is that a real one? My husband claims so.) We just ignored the subject altogether, and that was that. I remember encountering children who made jokes about farts, or talked about farting, and not knowing what to say to them because they were so wildly inappropriate.

However, if you want to get into the comedy world, fart jokes come with the territory. Fart jokes to the comedy world are like flossing jokes to the dentist world, or like fart jokes to the proctologist world.

Let me clarify, I still don't think actual farting -- in real life -- is that great. They're just not something to celebrate, okay?

Fart noises, on the other hand, are pretty hilarious.

When I was a senior in high school, like, eighteen years old and technically an adult, my friend Sarah and I would go into the school library and make fart noises into our hands. We would find a table in the way back, put down our stuff, and just sit there making sporadic fart noises until we couldn't control our hysterical laughter, or until we were asked to leave.

I am still laughing about it, right now. That's how funny it is to me.

When my husband and I were first married, living in our first place (my parents' basement), I got up to use the restroom while we were watching TV. The bathroom was right by the couch, so I knew he could hear everything I did in there, (which actually makes me really uncomfortable) so I stood in the bathroom and starting making the loudest fart-noises I could into my hands. It was difficult because I was laughing so hard at my own hilariousness. When I came out, I looked at him with my hand on my stomach, like "Oh man I do NOT feel well" and he looked at me like "I cannot believe you are my wife" and it was great. Then I went upstairs to use the bathroom for real.

Now that I'm older, the F-word has taken on new meaning. Currently I am a mother of two soon-to-be-fart-loving boys. I don't know if you know this, but small children will just let them fly any time they feel like it. There is no shame with them. Babies in particular love to let 'em rip, and you can't really help but go with it. Even my mom doesn't get embarrassed. EVEN MY MOM.

Then, when you're potty-training a child, every noise is like a fire alarm, making you jump up with "Do you have to go? Do you have to go potty, honey?" and there isn't as much time laugh as you might like. Instead, you are at the mercy of their digestive system, sitting for hours reading the same story on the floor of your bathroom, just praying to hear one little toot-a-root.

Okay, that just got a little too real. I apologize. I'm not used to talking about this stuff. I'm more used to making fart noises in my hands for cheap laughs.

Like an STD, but on your face.

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Since before I can remember, I have been afflicted with cold sores. Cold sores are open wounds that appear on your face, typically around the mouth and nose. They like to come out when you are stressed, or tired, or if you get sunburned, or if your lip suffers some sort of injury, or if you are planning a big event for which you'd like to look nice. And here is the kicker: once you get a cold sore, you will continue getting them for the rest of your life. It’s the gift that keeps on giving – just like herpes. Oh wait, that’s because it IS herpes!

Cold sores are herpes. Technically speaking, they are herpes simplex 1 (HSV-1) and not exactly the same thing as herpes simplex 2 (HSV-2) which is what people get from “doing it.” Unfortunately it’s a fine line.

But before you make any inappropriate jokes about my promiscuity, let me make it clear that my cold sores were not sexually-transmitted. They were passed on from my mother, who got them from her mother, who got them from her mother, who was a whore.

So every time I get a cold sore, I not only have to deal with the self-consciousness that comes with having an open, weeping wound on my mouth, but I also have to deal with people wondering if I am a hussy. Thank goodness I already got a man, because I’m pretty sure “facial VD” is a turn-off for most guys on match.com.

But just because I’m married doesn’t mean cold sores don’t affect my game. My husband tries to be nice, but every time I have a sore he becomes extremely paranoid. Hugs are too risky. A kiss on the cheek is out of the question. Even looking directly at me for too long makes him uncomfortable. If it were socially acceptable, he would gladly have me wear a paper bag on my head for the duration of the virus. And then he would put a surgical mask over the mouth area. And then he would spray the mask with Lysol. And then he would look me deep in the brown paper-bag eyeholes and tell me I’m beautiful. Because he cares.

In addition to throwing off my home life, cold sores affect my performance at work. Engaging of a room of middle-school students for six hours is not easy when you look good, but when you have an open sore on your face, it’s nearly impossible. One time my fly was down, and now those children will never understand semicolons.

During my first year of teaching, I got the most absurd and awful cold sore. I don't want to go into too much detail, but let me just say that when I smiled, it bled. Okay that might have been too much detail, but I want you to understand the severity of the situation.

All day, my students would do double-takes, eyes widening when they saw me. I couldn't take it. I mean, I'm not a terribly vain person; I go in public in clothes that could earn me a spot on "What Not to Wear" regularly, but this was another level of self-consciousness. I quickly made up a group activity that did not involve me talking to them, then I cowered at my desk, hoping they would behave and not need me for anything. That group activity lasted for two weeks. It was a Rube-Goldberg machine that told the story of Crime and Punishment.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Isn't there anything you can do for these awful sores, Molly?" and "Will you please stop describing what the sores look like?" and "Is your mom going to be mad about that great-grandmother joke you dropped several paragraphs back?" The answers to these questions are 1) sort of, 2) fine, and 3) we'll see. 

Unfortunately the best treatment for cold sores involves walking into a pharmacy and speaking the words "I'm here to pick up my Valtrex prescription." Because the same medicine they advertise for genital herpes will also treat cold sores. And that makes you feel really proud. 

Even more unfortunately, most treatments don’t work unless you catch the sore before it happens, which is difficult. However if you do have cold-sore ESP, and you are constantly carrying meds with you, then you're set. Just try not to let your herpes cream slip out of your pocket when you’re on a date or a job interview. People will talk. 

My Taxonomy of Comedy

Happy Monday! My blog is now one month old. It's already starting to recognize my voice.

Also, I woke up to a flooded basement this morning so I am NOT in the mood to do computer stand-up for you. I am mad at you right now because your basement is not flooded.

Instead, here is my Taxonomy of Comedy.

Taxonomies are a nerdy teacher thing; you make them as a way to brainstorm ideas. Here I've made a taxonomy of funny stuff I like.  It's an odd list because I was limited to one entry per letter. So, I don't follow Queen Latifah's comedy career too closely, but she has been funny on SNL and her name starts with a Q.  X was also a bit of a reach.  Check it out, then go off and make a taxonomy of your own. You can pick any subject. Once my husband and I made a taxonomy of baby names. It was really cool and not lame.

Arrested Development
Book of Mormon (Musical, not religious text)
Christopher Guest
Dear Sister Digital Short (SNL)
Ellen Degenerous
Flight of the Conchords
Gilmore Girls
Happy Endings
Important Things With Demetri Martin
Jim Gaffigan
Kaitlin Character/Sketch (SNL)
Landlord, The (Funny or Die)
Mystery Science Theater 3000
Nate Nickerson (minor character from The Office)
O'Brien, Conan
Parker Posey
Queen Latifah
Ricky Gervais as David Brent
Sarah Silverman
Teachers Webseries
Uncle Buck
Vampire Musical: Jason Segal, Forgetting Sarah Marshall
Wet Hot American Summer

Xylophone sound effects

Yankovic, Weird Al 

Zach Galifianakis in The Hangover


Looking over the final result, it definitely represents my interests, and my interests are very Caucasion. Perhaps it's time I branched out.

This post is rated PG-13

Full disclosure: this post is going to make me sound like a pervert. You're just going to have to trust me and read it anyway. And if after you're done you still think I'm a total perv, well, I don't know what to say. You read the blog of a pervert; which doesn't say a lot about you.

So. As I was saying.

One day, when I was a freshman in college, I was in the shower. It was the dorm shower, shared with all of the girls [women? young ladies?] on my half of the floor. When I was done cleansing, I reached out to grab my towel and caught an unfortunate glance at the girl in the opposite shower stall who had not quite closed her curtain all the way. Just a millisecond glance, no big deal, happens all the time in these situations (right? please say right). However, in that millisecond, I saw something that caught me quite off guard. Very off-guard, really. The girl in question had no nipples.

I know, it sounds crazy. That's what I was thinking as I stood in my shower, water off, debating in my head if it is humanly possible for a person to have breasts, but no mammary papillae (I looked it up). Papillaeless-boobs.

My mom officially just shut her laptop.

I'm not trying to be crass, but you have to admit this is fascinating.  My head was full of questions. I mean, who was this girl? Would it be rude to ask "Hey, why no nipples over there?" Is she technically considered a mammal if she is missing her ducts? I felt a sense of urgency because clearly this person was aware I was done with my shower and just loitering, which is creepy, but at the same time I needed to know if what I had seen was real. Because, if it was, I was ready to launch a full investigation into the matter. I could strike up casual conversations with people, like "Hey, how about this whole having-nipples thing? Crazy, right?" and just watch for their reaction. But there were a lot of girls on my floor, and that's is a lot of effort for something hypothetical. So I made a tough decision. I decided to look again.

This is obviously where the story makes me sound like a pervert. But hopefully you understand that this was strictly for scientific research. For all I knew this girl was some sort of alien living among us, biding its time before launching an attack to annihilate the human race. So, basically I was defending our species. So, basically you're welcome.

As I stepped out of the shower, I made a very classy and non-creepy glimpse in the direction of her shower stall, then made a quick exit. Well, let me just say I am glad I did. Because, as it turns out, what I thought I saw was actually not what I saw. What I really saw was something else altogether. Allow me to explain.

You know when you shower, and you're washing your hair, and you're standing facing the water like this?

(I drew her with clothes on out of respect).

Well, imagine what it would look like if only part of you were visible past your shower curtain. It might look something like this.

And then someone, who is not at all a pervert, might mistake your elbows for a freakish anatomical anomaly.  So, just be aware of that.

The Flavor of Freshness

Back when I really did stand-up, like, not at my computer, I did all right. Most of the time some of the people laughed and I felt not-very-suicidal afterward. But there was this one time when I truly bombed.

I know bombing is all part of the stand-up comedy experience, and that you're supposed to grow from failure, and that even the best comics have had bad sets ... but I would rather have diarrhea forever than bomb at stand-up. (Mild diarrhea.)

One of the reasons the set went so poorly was that I hadn't actually finished writing the joke. It was not my usual kind of bit; it was more of a Seinfeldian life-observation thing, which should have been a red-flag because I am not as funny as Jerry Seinfeld.

Unfortunately a friend of mine was there to see the disaster, and he used to always bring it up: Where were you going with that joke, Molly? Why didn't you finish it? Can I hear it again? Why were you sweating so much? Did you mean to cry like that?

I refused to even speak of it. Just thinking of the joke brought back the panic and nausea I experienced on stage that night. As far as I was concerned, I would never attempt the joke again.

But it has haunted me long enough.

You guys, I am going to try to finish the bit. Once and for all. Here we go. Don't laugh (but do).

Ahem.

Why is mint the flavor of freshness?

I only ask because I have never liked the flavor of mint. I don't know why; I just don't. When I was little, I used to lie about brushing my teeth because I didn't like the taste of the toothpaste. I just brushed my teeth with water. Then I would get in trouble, because I was disgusting.

Why does it have to be mint? What if cilantro was the flavor of freshness? What if it was basil? I like those flavors. Sure, it would be weird to walk around with the taste of basil in your mouth at first, but don't you think we would all just get used to it?

Before you completely write me off as a freak show with bad breath (I brush now) you should know that this aversion to mint has had a real impact on my life. For one thing, while everyone else enjoys the red-and-white mint after a meal at a classy restaurant, I sit there with the taste of tacos in my mouth. It's unpleasant. Furthermore, it has cost me countless potential friendships. Just think of all of the little conversations people have while sharing Altoids. For example:

Mandy: Hey, can I have an Altoid?

Amy: Sure.

Mandy: Thanks, I love Altoids.

Amy: Me too, let's be friends and tell secrets.

Mandy: Great!

Me: Hey guys, what's going on?

Amy: Nothing.

Mandy: You kind of missed it.

Me: NOOOOOO! NOT AGAIN!

You see? My social development has been stunted. (Clearly.) So perhaps it's time we re-examine freshness. Maybe it's time for a new flavor to step up to the plate. What do you think? Should it be vanilla? Raspberry? Rosemary? What would be your choice?

[And at that point people in the audience would be yelling out stuff like "Beer! Chocolate! Lucky Charms!" and I would be all "you guys are crazy, I love it" and we would laugh and have a good back-and-forth and then I would say "That's my time, you've been a great audience!" and walk off the stage to uproarious applause.]

Redemption.

Role Models

When I was younger, I thought stand-up was for unfeminine women with bad clothes and terrible relationships. (Sorry Paula Poundstone, you are very hilarious.) I much preferred sketch comedy shows where the  people were cute and just pretending to have problems. So when people started suggesting that I might have a future in stand-up, I sort of took offense. I didn't want to be an angry, lonely woman stand-up! I wanted to be pretty and demure like Claire Danes on "My So-Called Life."

I soon learned that demurity was not in my future. An Angela Chase I am not, so I looked for other role models who were more my speed.

The first time I saw Ellen Degeneres do stand-up, my world changed a little bit. She was so funny. Listening to her tell jokes was just like listening to a friend tell a really funny story, and it changed my impression of the whole business. If you have not heard her bit about gogurt, you need to check it out.

Ellen will forever be my favorite stand-up, but here is a list of other comics I enjoy. Most of them are obvious (Seinfeld), but maybe there's someone on here you haven't heard and should check out.

Jerry Seinfeld
Chris Rock
Jim Gaffigan
Louis CK
Eddie Izzard
Demetri Martin
Bill Cosby
Dave Chappelle
Paul F. Tompkins
Maria Bamford
Norm MacDonald
Zach Galifianakis
Jen Kirkman
Larry David (I've only seen one or two bits but they were funny...)


Any glaring omissions? Do you have some suggestions for me?

Inspiration

Fact: I love comedy. I love watching it, reading it, performing it, and writing it. I also love talking about it and listening other people talk about it. So you can imagine my delight when I came across this video.

Isn't it wonderful? Do you want to go write some jokes now? I do! I'm going to, just as soon as I teach this lesson about proofreading.

Also, sorry if you got in trouble for watching that at work.

The beginning of the beginning

Here we are. I am writing a blog; you are reading it. Why? I don't know. I think it is because we are both bored.

Then again, maybe "bored" is not the right word. In fact, there are many other things I should be doing right now. One of which would be "my job." So maybe we're not bored, maybe we're just avoiding things. What are you avoiding? Laundry? An expense report? Your children? Don't worry. I get it. You're safe here.

Here's the deal: I used to write and perform stand-up. I liked it. Now I have a two kids and a job and I find it difficult to stay up past 10 pm, much less go to a comedy club and hope to get on stage. So instead I am going to write what I would normally write for stand-up on this blog. To really enjoy it, you should picture me like this:

That is basically what I am going for.

I also plan to write about stand-up and other comedy-related topics. Just because.

Here we go.