Kdub Comedy

That kid needs to be on the terrorist watch list.

(via substitute)

For at least the past 100 years, baseball has been considered America’s Favorite Pastime, and given that there was no TV or Internet available for most of those 100 years, it makes some amount of sense. Now that we’ve entered the digital age, and baseball is just plain boring, things are shifting, and quickly. It turns out that America’s New Favorite Pastime is celebrities, and not just admiring celebrities, but doing everything in our collective power to put them on a pedestal, and then beat them with a stick until they fall over. It’s an American thing to do, like Apple Pie, and iPods.

In this new favorite pastime, we all come together as a people to see if we can push the likes of Lindsay Lohan completely over the edge, then harshly criticize her for it. It’s amazingly entertaining. If you haven’t done it yet, you should try it some time, it’s actually quite easy, all you have to do is be self-righteous and smug about it. Yeah, you’re getting the hang of it, good job. Now stop.

The problem with this pastime is that we’re all obsessed by the traffic accident lookie-loo syndrome, and if we can get away with throwing the rock that starts the chain reaction to a complete crash, we all feel better about ourselves, and why shouldn’t we, it’s not our lives, we’re normal, and perfect. None of us would record ourselves having sex, or “accidentally” send a picture of our junk over twitter, it just doesn’t happen. We don’t have drug problems that ruin our lives, and we sure as hell wouldn’t have an eating disorder. That only happens to those people.

Well, wake up America! These people are you. You do have drug problems. Yeah, I’m talking to you, the one with the bong in your lap, put it down for a second, and continue reading, you may learn something. You also have eating disorders. How else do you explain your love/hate relationship with the KFC Double Down? Somebody is buying those delicious, one million calorie sandwiches, and it’s not just me. And, most importantly, you do film yourselves having sex. I have the internet, and I’ve seen the tapes, and I can say with 100% honesty, they’re not half bad. Thank you for that, don’t stop.

If you can take one thing away from this article though, just remember, they are just like you. Lindsay Lohan is just like you, she just dresses better than you, but she is the same. We forget this, because once we create these celebrities, they start acting the part, like they’re not the same carbon based life form, but made from some magical element from their better, more talented planet. It’s not true, it’s a lie, no matter what they think, they are human, and have faults like the rest of us.

In conclusion, as the great(sic) Rodney King once said, “Can’t we all just get along?” I’m not sure that really makes sense here, I’ve just always wanted to end an article quoting Rodney King, and now I’ve done it.

I wonder if you can sell your used placentas for extra cash.

Beware, I think he’s serious.

I went to WalMart a few weeks ago, because they were having a sale on wife beaters. Not actually people who beat wives, even though I’m sure they work there, but white tank tops. They were like 99 cents for a pack of 100, but whatever. I don’t actually wear them, I use them to sling grapefruits at my neighbors cats. You’d be surprised how quickly you’ll go through a 100 of them, so I planned on buying 5 packs. Anyway, when I got the store, there were a ton of people there for the sale, well actually, maybe 2 tons of people, I’m not really good at guessing weights. I was really surprised that for such a great deal targeted at the Wal-Mart demographic, that only 8 people showed up.

They were big, really big, so big in fact that every one of them was driving those little 3 wheeled buggies. I don’t even know what you call them, but when I went over to the sale area to grab some shirts, it seemed like they were all backing up at the same time. It sounded like a tacky disco with all the beeping. I started to dance, because I can. Then I stuffed the 5 packs of t-shirts down my pants, and walked out of the store like some kind of common criminal. I might get a tattoo now.

- Go to an adult literacy class, and pretend like you can’t read for the first week. Then come back the second week, and read perfectly. Tell everyone that you were bit by a radioactive mosquito, and all of a sudden you were able to read. You’ll be a superhero.

- Next time you’re in an elevator, or any crowded place, wear an eye patch, and tell everyone, in a fake pirate voice, how you’re hunting Moby’s Dick for revenge, because his song “South Side” drove your girlfriend to amputate your penis.

- The next time you’re with a woman, tell her you like to have sex in weird places. If she’s into it, tell her you’d really be turned on if you had sex with her armpit.

- Put pop rocks in your condoms, then when you ejaculate, tell the woman you’re with that it was so good you shot fireworks out of your penis. You’ll get a second date.

- When you’re having guests over for dinner, serve them salad, but instead of using a bottle of Italian dressing, fill a douche bottle, unused of course, and let the conversations begin.

That’s it for now, have fun!!!!

So, I understand that Twitter and Tumblr are open forums where you can post anything, and everyone can see your ideas. And really, given the impending Zombie Apocalypse, they don’t mean shit, unless, of course, you have a constant need for affirmation to avoid putting your head in the oven, as I do. It’s a fucking honor system, right? Wrong. It’s the simplest of things to post a joke on Twitter, and it’s so simple for people, whoever they may be, an unfunny co-worker, a Facebook loser, or a professional writer to just pass off your idea as their own. I haven’t had this happen to me until today, and I’m having a weird reaction to it, and maybe I’m reading into it, but you tell me.

Here’s my tweet from 2 Months ago:

@kdubcomedy: If you’re happy and you know it, keep that shit to yourself, nobody likes a bragger.

I know, simple thought, anybody could come up with it, but I did, I did come up with it, probably while I was taking a shit.

Here’s a leaderboard tweet from today by someone who followed me at one point, and has starred about 20 of my tweets.

@BillMc7: If you’re happy and you know it, keep that shit to yourself. It’s not all about YOU, asshole.

Some may say that his version is a slightly polished version of my original, and some may say, why do you give a fuck. I normally don’t, but from a writer to a writer, it seems to break some kind of universal rule, and fuck it if he gets to take credit for an unoriginal thought.

Fin

I’d invest in a plastic bubble to protect myself from all the cancer, but I’m afraid that the petroleum used to make it would defeat the purpose. And I’m only eating rocks from now on.

Standup Showcase at Westside Comedy Theater in Santa Monica on May 3rd, 2011

Politics are so boring. I think we need to spice things up, and pass into law a WWE style cage match instead of the endless droning that happens on the floor of Congress currently. Fight to the death, winner take all match on every issue, even the dumb ones.

Announcer: In this corner representing the educated middle class, the Great Democratic Hope: Obama, the Alabama Slamma. And in this corner, representing the Tea Bagging Tea Party: John ‘The Boner’ Boehner.

I know what you’re thinking, Obama’s not even from Alabama. True, write your own fucking blog.

Just think about how many people would start really paying attention to the issues. Congressional Pay-Per-View events could help eliminate the deficit, and hopefully the entire federal budget could be generated from these nightly events. The IRS would become ticket scalpers.

But this is only a dream, a wonderful dream.

What we get now are press conferences, boring, pass the hose from the tailpipe into the car press conferences. The press conference I really want to see though is John Boehner explaining how the hell ‘oe’ is pronounced as a long ‘a’. That’s bullshit, I have a friend named Joey, and a friend named Jay, and they never get confused when I call their names, because their names sound different, that’s why. Does he think a boner can’t get elected? I would say that Bill Clinton proves that we’re fully accepting of boners in public office. But you have to imagine that Boehner is fully self conscious of his name, it makes for an unstable, elephant standing on a powder keg.

The Republicans are working on a new federal budget in Congress as I write this. The first thing that they want to cut are old people. They say there are too many of them, and they use up all of our resources, like air, and oxycontin. If you’re a Republican, and I’m talking to you Rush Limbaugh, I can see how the oxycontin supply would have you quivering in your own regurgitation, but come on, we all deserve a chance to spout our misinformed opinions in our personal recording studios in our $10 million dollar homes.

I’m worried though that this whole thing is going to turn into a stalemate. We’re running out of hope. In 2008, Obama ran on campaign of change, and it was wildly successful. I’m not sure what he can do now, because as in incumbent, change is not the word to be using. I’m not sure this the best approach, but he launched his campaign earlier in the week via email. He’s no longer running on the message of change, now he’s running on the “Republicans are Poopoo Doody Heads” platform. It’s a strong message, but let’s see how far it can take him.

And if the government shuts down for any significant period of time, like a minute, I’m going to start a new government with all the ex-members of Guns and Roses, and Stone Temple Pilots, and call it Velvet Revolver. All drugs are legal, but the music sucks. Good luck government.