Tag Archives: comedy

2013 is totally going to be my year! 5 ways I’ll get a man!

Guys! Just look at my new glasses! You know 2013 is going to be my year! I am going to get a total make over and radically change my life! I am going to get a husband this year! Oh yeah! Just you wait and see – I’m going to change into the Cheryl that banker dudes will be lining up around the block to put a ring on! Here’s how!

1. Get a job in “fashion”! Screw this comedy/day job bullshit. All the husbands are going for fashion chicks. Lord knows, I could use one of those guys! AND –  It’s not a job that anyone is ever sad to see you leave either. Catty bitches, I can’t wait to count myself among them. They can’t wait to talk about how fat any girls thighs actually were after they’ve left. “Gross! Her ass left an imprint on her chair even! Ew!” My man won’t be threatened by my job in fashion, but he’ll probably cheat on me with those catty bitches. I’ll just be prepared and  have cleaned out my closet to make room for all those forgive-me-presents I’ll get in handbag form.

2. Use “totally”, “totes” and “totes-mcgotes” more! How are I’m going to get a man if he thinks that I’ve actually have thoughts and can use vocabulary. Any man that gets a six figure bonus is lying when he says he wants a smart girl. He wants some one who went to Barnard just to be able to say she went to Barnard. Who majored in International Studies or some other marriageable subject. Not anything that would get her a career, or anything crazy! I can fool them!

3. Three words for you – Brunch, BRUnch, BRUNCH! That’s right! I am going have to spend my Saturdays either with my catty co-workers at brunch, or with my catty friends bitching about my catty co-workers, or trying to draw my man into conversation with either set of catty bitches while consuming over priced eggs and prosecco mimosas. I will not be a real lady unless I’m brunching hard core.

4.  Anal. No one wants to buy before they try any more. Where’d the good old fashioned days go?

5.  Listen only to Taylor Swift, Nikki Minaj and David Guetta while doing Pilates and Kegle exercises. Because I don’t need any music that will give me any ideas in my pretty head or distract me from the most important things about snagging and keeping a man. Keeping your stomach and pussy tight!

Here’s to 2013! When I spend all of my disposable income on eyelash extensions, manicures and dinner “dresses” from BeBe! That should work, right?

So what if I have a shy bladder

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I once heard about this Japanese toilet for lades that had buttons to play both soothing and distracting sounds to cover up the sound of their urinating. I thought to myself, “Oh my God! How can I get my hands on one of these or at least a machine that can distract me from the fact that I am pissing mere inches from another person!”

I’ve always had a shy bladder. A wallflower of a piss pot. A shrinking violet at the urination ball. When I would go camping with my family, instead of peeing in the woods right next to the tent like a real outdoorsman, I had to bundle up and trek the 12 minute walk in the pitch dark to the toilets at the camp ground. 12 minutes in the dark for a 12 year old girl who has read far too much Encyclopedia Brown is a long damn time. It’s always been something of a challenge for me to relax that way.

I’m not exaggerating. When 9/11 happened, my reaction to it was to have a panic attack that manifested itself with me not being able to evacuate my bladder for almost a full day. I tried everything, running water, taking a warm bath, thinking of the ocean, listening to Billy Ocean. Nothing worked. I had to have my friends take me to the emergency room, fully thinking that I would have to get a catheter. Instead, I got into the exam room, the pain starting to spread up to my kidneys, and I finally was able to let it go. All over myself.

So, when I moved to New York, one of the first bars that I went is the now defunct Mars Bar. This bar had a bathroom so gross that if you touched anything you’d end up with Hepatitis C. I knew, KNEW, that I had to figure out how to get over this AND learn how to piss standing up. I am pretty sure that the only reason that all New York women take yoga is so that they get good at squatting to piss. There are far better ways to stay in shape without having to do something called the downward dog in public. I didn’t take yoga but I learned how to relax and piss standing up.

My shy bladder is now the bell of the pissing ball. I’ve peed at the top of a seven story abandoned radio tower in Berlin, in the fake planter of an office complex at 4am, in the woods of Prospect Park, in an alley on the South Side of Chicago. I guess I owe New York City that. It literally scared the piss out of me.

5 ways to face the world in the morning

Or how I get out the door from a jumble of sleepy pieces in one! Why is that interesting? Because they might be strange, they also might be things that you do in the morning or they might be things you want to do in the morning. Either way, here’s how I start my day right!

1. Kick the damned cat off of my face! She has three legs, is full of piss and vinegar and wants to be fed at 6:30am, which is not the time I want to get up at all. Her preferred method of rousing me is biting my forehead just at the crown of my hair. It’s so specific. Does that part of my head taste like tuna?

2. Turn off my white noise machine. I know, it sounds fussy, but how else can I cover up the sound of Dr. Who episodes and porn from my roommate? Use headphones! Bah! Listening to porn or Dr. Who with headphones on makes you look like a real pervert.

3. Make a big ass French press full of coffee. This is fussy. But my coffee is one thing that I do not eff around with.

4. Drink that coffee in the shower! Just like a cold beer after a long run is great in the shower, hot coffee when you are running late to work is the only way to both get clean and caffeinated in one 15 minute span.

5. Think about making my bed. Mom always insisted. Now instead of doing it, I just feel guilty about.

And then I am out the door most days on my bike or chasing after the damned B62 bus that always seems to come just for me to miss it.

reflections on a year in comedy

Beware, the following post contains a ratio of 3:1 earnest sentiment to snark. Please proceed with caution.

You do some things totally right and you do some things the most wrong you possibly can. You start some things later than you should have and you come into them in your own time. Some things come easy and something hand you your ass on a skateboard missing a wheel, that’s how hard they are on you. The last year has been full of those wobbly wheeled skateboard moments coming right off the ramp and straight at me at me. Sometimes with a bulldog on it, sometimes just my ass on it.

I’ve certainly done a few things right. Starting to perform stand up comedy was close to the best decision I’ve ever made, aside from kissing Neil Huntley in a planetarium parking lot in 1998. I had been in a band for years and never felt as at home on stage behind a keyboard than I did with nothing but a slim mic stand between me and the brutality and grace of an audience. I guess I feel more comfortable playing my wits than music, or more likely, I’m loner, Dotty.

I love the people I have met and the ones who have helped me grow in comedy. The ones who don’t let the bullshit slide. I’m talking about you who brought me to my first open mic. You who  encouraged me to take risks on stage and off. You who helped me build an amazing show in a great room. You all who come to my mic every week and drink tea and make it warm. You all who listen to the good jokes and meh through the bad. Polite laughter hurts the worst of all, you guys know that.

I’ve become a stronger writer and performer because of that. My set is now 80% less dick jokes! Now that’s what I call progress.

I’ve made some mistakes and had real rough patches this year. I made real change and confronted some pretty serious fears. I apologize to those that I have hurt or embarrassed going through all that. It was never in malice. When it is, you’ll know because there will be Super-Soakers involved.

Any way, it’s only been a year but it feels like I have always been doing this. I suppose that means that from now on out, I always will.

 

10 things I pray happen at the Presidential Debate tonight

1. They are haunted by candidates past.
Herman Caine shows up with stacks of pizza and accusations of liberal brainwashing. Michelle Bachman pops up from behind Mitt Romney to shoot lasers out of her crazy eyes. Hillary Clinton – Obama is haunted by her every day and she’ll just be there stoically biding her time for 2016.

2. Obama says “Ah” enough times for a satisfactory drinking game.
The rules to the game are: take a shot each time he utters, “Ah”, “Erm”, or “Uh” and 2 shots when Romney looks itchy in his own skin.

3. Romney tries to smile in ernest and his face cracks open revealing that his just armature being run by a race of tiny elves! Hail elven overlords! They all look like Will Ferrell.

4. Obama pulls out a dashiki and a congo drums and yells, “PSEEEEYYYYYYEEEEEECH!”

5. The opening handshake between the candidates is more like a first date hand holding. They both tear up a little bit.

6. Then they come out of the moment and high five and elbow bump! And the debate begins but all in rap freestyle. “My name’s Mitt Romney and I am here to say that 47% of you and freeloading and gay.” Jay-Z steps in for Obama and the whole room loses it’s shit.

7. We get straight answers to real questions like “What is your spirit animal?” and “If you could travel back in time, Coke or Pepsi?”

8. Bo Obama breaks off his lease and can’t get his nose out of Jim Lehr’s butt.

9. Romney tries desperately to relate to the everyday man and succeeds! Everyone is endeared to him as…

10. A glowing spaceship descends to take Romney to Kolob. A conga line of the former republican candidates with Obama at the tail shimmies on board. Everyone gets to meet Jesus!