Welcome to the Ocean

Well, it's finally happened. I've legitimately erred, in your eyes. Not egregiously, but enough to destroy any lingering vague notions of near-perfection or near-infallibility. It's not all too surprising, I suppose. It was bound to happen eventually, and I've been slipping as of late, though I know not why. ****

You know, I'd grown used to being a big fish in a small pond long ago. I never thought much of it, as I was all too aware of the size of the ocean, and that's to say nothing of the cosmos beyond. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the vapor of local fame upon my face, but I did not and do not place much value in the approval of others, save of those who have been to the ocean. Why then, do I give so much weight to this other, relatively inexperienced opinion? Why do I work so hard to maintain this flimsy, undeserved reputation as the biggest fish in the eyes of but one other?

Despite the dangers that dwell there, both timeless and modern, there truly are plenty of fish in the sea. Strange that, though I'd been to the deep blue before and seen its wonders and encountered many beautiful creatures out here, that I should still choose to spend my time with one from the same backwater swamp that spawned me. Perhaps I am attracted to the familiarity. Perhaps I simply admire that the mercury in the water has only made them more resilient. Perhaps some homing mechanism within my genome has been activated, urging me to swim upstream with my own kind, long before I have even acclimated to the saltwater.

Perhaps it is because I know she will thrive out here and I would do well to watch and learn.

**** Yes, there are moments where I slip up and screw up and fall short and fall flat.
And there are moments where I do not accomplish what I set out to do, despite my best efforts.
And there are moments when other men are capable of besting me.
And-- as selfish and weak and unforgivably normal as it makes me seem-- there are moments when I wish I could possess you, and only you. Infrequent and brief as they may be, their existence causes such guilt-ridden agony that most people who aren't you wouldn't believe it.

But you already knew that, didn't you? Why then, can I not shake this feeling of disillusionment? Why don't I believe it when you say you are not disappointed?

No. You aren't disappointed. I've done nothing to truly diminish your perception of my size. You've just seen the ocean, is all.

The John Boehner Shit List

I originally posted this on the discussion board for the fb group "Can this Horse's Ass get More Fans than John Boehner", but nobody seemed to read it. So I'll just leave it here so now there are 2 places for people to not read it!

Oh, John Boehner, How do I loathe thee-- let me count the ways.

1. Your stout resistance to progress and democracy.
2. Your unmatched ability to ignore empirical evidence
3. Those adorable horse blinders you wear to avoid seeing all the Americans in need of (and in favor of) health care reform.
4. Your childish demeanor (by which I mean mindset).
5. And of course-- the way your skin gleams in the sunlight like a rotten tangerine.

Please add any other reasons that YOU may loathe John Boehner. His hate is a hate that is far too bountiful NOT to be shared.

Dear Friendly Heckler:

Dear Friendly Heckler: Stop it.

Dear friendly heckler: You are not helping anybody, least of all yourself. Stop it.

Dear friendly heckler: I do not appreciate your comments, and neither does the audience. So stop it.

Dear friendly heckler: You may mean well, but from my perspective, you're still, well... mean. Please stop it.

Dear friendly heckler: Just because I'm using conversational humor, does not necessarily mean that I want to have a conversation with you. Especially you. Seriously, stop it.

Dear friendly heckler: Just because you don't get the joke, does not mean you are justified in stepping on it. You really need to stop it.

Dear friendly heckler: Just because you do get the joke, does not mean you are required to spell it out for everyone else. I'd sure appreciate it if you'd stop it.

Dear friendly heckler: It's an open mic night; If you really want the attention of your peers, just sign up and wait your turn. So until the MC calls your name, stop it.

Dear friendly heckler: You aren't funny. If you were funny, you'd understand the concept of comedic timing and recognize that you are ruining mine. So do me a favor and stop it.

Dear friendly heckler: By doing this, you are making yourself loathed by everyone around you. So do yourself a favor and stop it.

Dear friendly heckler: Your unsolicited opinions aren't beneficial to the show in any way, ever, to anyone. So do us all a favor, and stop it.

Dear friendly heckler: I don't want your "help". I don't need your "help". If you really want to help me, then leave me alone to can gauge the audience's unaltered response to my unaltered material so I can grow as a comedian. The best way for you to help me is to stop it.

Dear friendly heckler: If I'm telling a story about my life, don't correct me. I'm pretty sure I know more about my life than you do. You know nothing of my life, or my work, or my material, so stop it.

Dear friendly heckler: In fact-- you know what? Just don't ever correct me on anything, at all. There's this concept known in the industry as "comedic ignorance". Look it up, sometime. While you're at it, look up the video "George Carlin Hates Hecklers". I hope your kid dies in a car fire. Stop it.

Vegans Can't Eat Poop

I just realized today that vegans cannot eat poop, because it is an animal byproduct. Those poor, poor people. Just one more reason to never become vegan.

Vegetarians can still eat poop, though, so that's good.

Shock Value--a sketch that may or may not be auto-biographical

This is horrendously rough and not at all finished. So... yeah.

Cast
John: A witty young man with a very dark sense of humor. May or may not be named after Johnathan Swift.
Alice: A witty young woman with a very dark sense of humor. May or may not be named after Alice Sebold

Setting: Doesn't matter. Not even a little. Go nuts. Be creative. Or don't. Be lazy and/or cheap.

Alice: My 1st grade teacher just wrote me, asking if Faith was my daughter. (sarcastically) He clearly had high expectations of me
John: Wow.... Just-- wow (ad lib stammer) Were you a promiscuous 1st grader? How does he even-- (stammers) wow.
Alice: Well, I was loud, bossy, and spirited. All my friends were boys. He did sound a little surprised, probably due to my grades
John: I see.... I guess. Heh. How'd he receive the news that she wasn't yours?
Alice: I wrote him back, but he hasn't received my message yet, so he still thinks she's mine! I don't know how he even found me!
John: Faith probably mentioned you in class or something, and he just looked you up.
Alice: Oh, he doesn't know Faith. He just saw her in some photos with me and assumed she was my daughter! He'll probably assume I'm a lesbian for similar reasons.
John: (smirks) Well, this should be an interesting correspondence. Perhaps you shouldn't be so quick to correct him of these assumptions.
Alice: Don't push me to tell him that I'm also having an affair with a liberal atheist. My teacher is very religious.
John: Oh, that would be perfect! Be sure to mention that you've always wanted to find out 1st hand why student/teacher sexual relations are so popular these days!
Alice: Because that would be my 1st assumption in him finding me, yes? That he found me to start an affair? He didn't like me back in the day. He said I was unruly.
John: (laughs) You probably were. Well, do what you wish. I'm sure I'll find this story's unfolding amusing despite even your best of efforts.
Alice: Maybe he's looking for a mate for his son, Matthew. We were in the same grade, and pretty buddy-buddy at one point
John: Considering his current assumptions about you, I doubt it. I mean, unless he has REALLY low standards for his son.
Alice: (laughs) Well, you may be surprised to learn that he mentioned him. Asked if I ever talked to him anymore.
John: Not at all. He's simply using his kid as an 'in' so he can justify talking to you. My bet is that he wants to save your wayward soul.
Alice: I like this theory. It's much better than your affair theory.
John: Oh that wasn't a theory. More of a prank, really.
Alice: (sardonically) Yeah, I mean... what a paradox! Religious men having affairs...
John: Hmmm. You make a valid point. What if it's both?!?! Maybe he wants to absoleve you with his holy touch! (beat) O.K. THAT was wrong. I should probably apologize for that one. Maybe.
Alice: It's only wrong because he was my teacher. But amusing, nonetheless. I am sure he wrote me out of legitimate concern and curiosity.
John: Well, in that case.... I half-apologize for that remark.
Alice: Whatever am I to do with you? I probably shouldn't encourage you so... But I find it to be one of the best parts about you.
John: Of all things, you regret prompting me to apologize for my completely unprovoked insults? You're quite peculiar yourself, miss.
Alice: Is it wrong for me to not want to taint such a fine sense of humor with regulation? I personally want to see how far you'll go without intervention.
John: If anyone would want to see such a horrific and disturbing sight, it would be you. I must warn you, though; Some of my wittiest thoughts go deeper and darker than the lowest depths of the ocean. Have you seen the freaks that live at the bottom of the ocean, Alice? They're terrifying and sickening in their own ridiculousness, not unlike my jokes.
Alice: I've not been to the bottom of the ocean. Water's not my element. I'd melt. I prefer fire. Have you been to the pits of hell, or shall I enlighten you?
John:As it is with Santa's workshop and the Tooth Fairy's calcium castle, I have not been to the pits of hell. Be careful, Alice-- my wit's chain is weakening.
Alice: (coyly) Oh my! Whatever is dissipating your link? It was just a statement that I can be pretty dark, myself... just in a different way.
John: Oh, I know. You're simply tantalizing my competitive side. I have no idea what this encounter will result in; I just know it will be very steamy.
Alice: I cannot taunt a man, dear Johnathan, who does not want to be taunted, or else he would not have it. I can only suggest darkness; you have the choice to be absolved of it.
John: When have I said anything that did not suggest a desire to be taunted? I've done nothing but taunt you to taunt me since I first found you to be a worthy opponent!
Alice: I know. Hence why I made that point. I had to reveal your willingness to be taunted as matched for my desire to taunt you. Who has the upper hand is completely subjective.
John: Well then, bring it on! I've got enough dead baby jokes to feed an entire orphanage! I suspect we'll whole cities.
Alice: And I've enough jokes concerning AIDS to wipe out your orphanages before they've a chance to fill their bellies!
John: Just because my last name is Nigro, doesn't mean that I'm going to be put-off by black jokes.
Alice: John-- if I wanted to refer to the black bits of you, there are other routes than that of AIDS.
John: Is that a reference to my sense of humor, or something else entirely? I'd hate to make up all your jokes for you...
Alice: You make up my jokes? I'd just as soon be cured by Freud. You just want me to explain because you want to hear it! (beat) sigh... It was a sexual reference using a stereotype to describe your capabilities. There. Happy now?
John: Well, if your last joke was any indication it seems that you'd love nothing more than to be cured through Freudian means. And I don't recall giving you permission to call me out like that.
Alice: Yes, but that's only true if you are under the vain assumption that you have at all supplemented my jests. Which--apparently-- you are. I called you out because it fit the humorous pattern forming.I think it would only make matters worse if I told you not to take it so personally.