Christmas trees

Do you think Christmas trees know that they’re Christmas trees or one day a lumberjack just walks up to them and goes, “You’re going to die. For Jesus.”

And the tree is like, “What? But I had no previous religious affiliation heretofore!”

And the lumberjack is like, “Well, henceforth you do. Also, it’s the sixteenth century. That’s why we’re talking like this.”

It would suck to be a Christmas tree. You just live your whole life in Wisconsin with all your friends and then you die. All of you. At the same time.

And then you end up in someone’s living room and you’re like “What’s going on? I can’t feel my legs! How am I standing up right now?”

And then someone is just like, “Shhhhhhhhh…I’m gonna put Christmas lights on you. Trust me, it makes sense.”

And then you’re like, “But it’s the sixteenth century…Christmas lights haven’t been invented yet.”

The featured image shows the Empire State Building from I forget where. If you liked this post, please like and share below! You can also follow the blog through Twitter, Facebook, or by joining my mailing list.

my name is all over Long Island City

All over my neighborhood there are these graffiti tags that say “Stu.” Which on one hand makes me wanna be like,”Woah – I did not do that, officer!”

But on the other hand it makes me feel like I own Long Island City, which is pretty cool. I don’t mind owning all of the buildings and streets and cars that go by – I relish the power. People walk down the streets because I allow them to, not because they chose to do so. I let them take the train because I’m a good guy. I own that shit, but I’m humble about it. People bow down to me, but I’m cool about it. One time a man in a raggedy coat knelt down in the trash outside my apartment and I was like, “Oh no it’s totally fine, don’t worry about it.”

But a few weeks ago I noticed a new tag that as put up right next to one of mine. One that says “Randy.” And all of a sudden, more and more “Randy’s” are showing up all over Long Island City. Which makes me feel like I should be watching out for a guy named Randy. Who also lives in Long Island City. Because I feel like one day well just run into each other on the street and I’ll be like, “ARE YOU RANDY?!”

And he’ll be like, “YEAH!! ARE YOU STU?!”

And I’ll be like, “YEAH!!”

And then he’ll be like, “I’m a comic and my graffiti joke is better than yours! You didn’t even consider it from my perspective. Think of how much better the joke would be if you knew that we were both comics. You could say things like, ‘Mannnn, a comic will do anything for some free publicity!’ or ‘We should have been writing our jokes and twitter handles on the wall.'”

And I’ll be like, “Shit. You’re right. I am a pretender to this throne. Long Island City is yours.”

And he’ll be like “Nah dude, whatever.” Cuz we’re just regular dudes, neither of whom actually put up those tags.

I wish I also had a picture of a Randy tag.

 

The featured image was taken literally right outside my apartment. If you liked this post, please like and share below! You can also follow the blog through Twitter, Facebook, or by joining my mailing list.

is Sarah Silverman right about the P.C. wars?

A few weeks ago, this article came out in the A.V. Club about how Sarah Silverman sides with college students when it comes to being politically correct in comedy. A lot of comics have come out and said that lately playing colleges just isn’t the same as it used to be. College students won’t laugh at certain “edgy” material because it isn’t politically correct (or more often, I think, doesn’t sound P.C.). Many top comics who used to tour colleges now totally neglect the college venues because of it. As a recent graduate who spent almost all of my previous on-stage time in front of other students, I know from first hand experience that there’s a difference telling a joke to students rather than a normal audience. A particular joke about chopsticks that I wrote while at school comes to mind as the type of material that often won’t work on a college campus, but is still a funny joke pretty much anywhere else:

I think Asians aren’t impressed by magic because a wand is just half of chopsticks.

There’s more to the joke, but even just this opening line can rouse boos from a college coffee house, just because it sounds racist. I’m not going to argue whether it actually is racist or not, but I’ll tell you that I think the joke is funny because it’s so obviously false and ridiculous, not because it’s making fun of Asians at all. The involvement of Asian people is totally tangential to the humor of the joke! But, the mere mention of Asians is enough to get a lot of students hot and bothered. Trust me, the joke does just fine here in New York City.

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i like diggin’ holes

I had an awesome childhood, I’ve been told. I don’t really remember any of it. The only thing that I remember about my childhood is that I really like to dig holes. I would grab a shovel, go outside, and dig holes in my backyard all day while my brother and sister sat inside reading and furthering their education. My mom would try to get me to read books all the time. She’d be like, “Stu, don’t you want to read a book like your brother and sister?” And I’d be like, “No. I’m busy can’t you see I gotta go dig this hole!” She’d be like, “Why? What are you gonna put in it?” And I’d be like, “I donno, books? That’s not the point!”

See, she didn’t understand me. I thought that digging holes was something that people just did. I grew up in Illinois where there are all these rock quarries all over the place and you’d drive by them on the highway all the time and there’d be these huge pits thousands of feet deep. And I never thought that anybody was digging them for any particular reason, I just thought they were better at it than I was. I was like, “These people are professionals. These people understand me.”

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“be silly!”

I was at a crowded open mic on a Friday night – the last one of the night that everyone who doesn’t have a show goes to. A friend I had made a few days earlier (say, Jess) made her way up to the stage and started her three-minutes set. It was early in the night and so the majority of the comics were in the room paying close attention. She told a couple of new jokes that didn’t go over so well, so she asked the audience of comics “why isn’t this funny?” It was a genuine question, although it was definitely rhetorical. She was just wondering aloud.

“You’re not being silly!” Someone shouted from the back of the room. Everyone looked back. It was another comic known to be brash at open mics, let’s call him Ryan.

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how comedy is like cooking

I’ve been watching the show Mind of a Chef, a fantastic show on Netflix narrated and produced by Anthony Bourdain. It follows a series of chefs, each of whom get their own eight episodes focusing on a range of different topics and themes within the world of cooking. For example, “Noodle,” “Southerners,” “Roots,” and “Latitude” are some of the episode titles. The host of the show changes, giving each half of the season a different feel. However, the format of the show remains largely the same: the host meets up with different chefs, farmers, butchers, etc. and cooks delicious-looking dishes that, for whatever reason, the camera never shows being eaten.

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