Category: Uncategorized

I had a fund raiser show Saturday.  It was for an organization that helps fund hospice care for people that can’t afford it.  That’s a great cause.  I thought, because I didn’t book the show, that it was actually at the hospice center.  I was prepared to regret forever my choice to tell jokes in general, but I missed the fine print where the gig was at a banquet hall.  This was good for all involved.

The show went well, the crowd was good, the staff was very friendly, and the food was great.  My favorite part was afterwards, where they had comment cards for everyone.  I resisted the urge to fill out one telling them Chris Coen was the best part of evening.  Even I have limits.  Well, maybe not, because I did pick them up and read them.  This is probably taboo, but I’ve done dozens of shows and never got to see the feedback from comment cards.  Sadly for my blog, they were almost all positive, except for one…but that person also said the A/C was too cold and four other things, so I’ll chalk that one up to a personality disorder.

 

I went with my lady to an MLS game between Columbus and Houston.  Lesson one?  It’s a match, not a game.  Damn Euros and their weird fake sports lingo.  Plus the clock goes up, not down, then it’s not done because of magic invisible bonus time.  I is too dumb for this.

I actually enjoy the sport, the scoring chances are exciting because they’re not all that common.  The only drawback is that the sport’s gamesmanship means these assholes flop around on the ground like they got gored by an angry bull.  Oh well, it’s still better than the vuvuzelas or whatever those horns are.  That’s a great idea – get annoying loud horns, then pass them out to children who have no concept of rage-inducing noise over prolonged time periods.

This is unrelated to soccer, but $8 beers should be illegal.  Or I need to find my flask.  One of those two.  I know Congress does nothing and half of them are drunks.  I think we can get this done.  Someone tell Boehner to quit tanning (you’re in your sixties, douche), McCain to quit playing iPhone poker, Reid to quit drooling and Pelosi to quit getting her face pulled back and stapled to the back of her neck – let’s come together and lower my beer prices.  (Insert Stars and Stripes Forever music)

I went to an event this weekend.  I was about to pay for parking at a kiosk that had the price listed.  About six feet away was a bright yellow sign, three feet tall that said “$5 Event Parking.”  A man came up to me and said, “How much is it to park here?”  I looked at the sign.  “I think $5.”  The man behind me then, trying to outdo the other idiot, “Does this thing take cash?”  “Yes.”  “OK, because I’m paying with a card.”  “Why did you ask me if it took cash?”  “Because I’m using a card.”  Sigh.

The very next evening, I went to get my growler filled at the movie theater.  That’s right, my local theater sells beer to go, it’s amazing.  I was walking to the door, when a cracked out looking dude was staring into the window.  “Hey, is anyone working?”  I sadly realized he was speaking to me.  Shit.  About three or four people walked through the door, but it didn’t register with him.  “Yes, just go in the door.”  “How much are the tickets?”  I stared him down.  “I have no idea.  I don’t work here.  However, if you go in, I’ll bet they can tell you!”  He was impervious to my sarcasm.  “Is it expensive?”  I repeated my prior answer, verbatim.  He finally followed me in, looked that $8 price and said, “Damn!”  Then he left.  Drugs beat movies, apparently.

My phone decided to start dying while I talk.  It just turns off now mid conversation.  Rough day at work.  My bill from getting my exhaust manifold on my car fixed is due.  I hit my limit of bullshit.

I got home, grabbed a beer or six and stewed.  Then I remembered I had “The Man with the 132 lb. Scrotum” on my DVR.  He has to pee off his ballsack and poo into a tupperware bucket thing.  He puts a hoodie on his nuts to go out in public.  His beanbag grows three pounds a MONTH.  Maybe it’s not so bad.  Thank God my penis and balls only weigh 25 kilos.

 

I sadly watched the Miley Cyrus VMA debacle.  With the buzz around it, I had to check it out.  First off, I hate awards shows, but this one is one of the worst.  The VMA’s really are sad, it boils down to – who can outwhore the other whores while shitty hyper comics scream and run around the stage?  Stay tuned and find out!

Miley is basically so desperate to stay relevant she thrust her sweatbox into the camera and rubbed everything moving in the no-no place with a foam finger, including Robin Thicke, herself, and of course, for the Furries, stuffed animals.  You’re engaged and a former Disney star, drop the gutterslut routine, stupid.  Also, she dances like her vagina is full of metal and electromagnets are pulling her around the stage.

I will give her credit, she set the bimbo bar high (or low).  If you’re a 12 year old boy wait until next year.  Selena Gomez will probably oil wrestle Demi Lovato in Saran Wrap.  Save up your tissues, boys!  Maybe next year, a band that plays instruments will actually get follow the jailbait bonanza.

I went to a kid’s birthday party last weekend, no not as a clown or mime, but rather my fiancee’s nephew’s bash.  The most exciting part of any party is the gift opening.  The second graders huddled around, like jackals waiting for the scraps to fall.  Their greedy little eyes and icing covered fingers were twitching with energy and jealousy.  Above the din, one little psycho stood out.

Every gift that was handed over prompted one boy to exclaim, “I’ll bet that’s a samurai sword!  Or a BB gun, but probably a sword!”  Nope, sorry junior, it’s in fact a pogo stick.  “Oh man!  I thought that was a samurai sword!”  Then it repeated about ten times.  Yes, nothing says good parenting or a thoughtful gift for an eight year old like a melee weapon.  “Here son, now make sure you don’t run with it!  Only decapitate another child if their parents approve!”  In fairness, I was that age once.  What would have been my favorite gift ever?  A samurai sword.