I am never quite sure whether I should “punch up” or “spruce up” the language.
So rather than putting the finishing touches on this piece and submitting it for publication, I’ve instead decided to pour myself a glass of wine, take the last remaining Percocet from my root canal last year, stare at the textured patterns in my stucco ceiling, and contemplate all the (if you ask me, quite significant) differing implications of “punching” versus “sprucing” up language as it applies to my forthcoming listicle about the thirteen most unflattering dresses worn at this year’s Academy Awards™. Which will be coming soon to a pop culture, and/or fashion, and/or entertainment, and/or Hollywood gossip, and/or serious news outlet desperate for advertising revenue, website near you.
But not until I finish the damned thing.
Go ahead haiku
With your perfect syllables
Showing off once more
The typical haiku
Has 5 then 7 then 5 syllables
This haiku is atypical
Why use up three lines
When two will often suffice
They say that time heels all wounds. But sometimes, you also really need sutures. Plus antibiotics. And an overnight hospital stay.
Let’s face it: Time isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
in preparation for my soon-to-be short-lived comedy career, I have crafted a handful of esoteric “walks into a bar” jokes:
an anthropomorphism walks into a bar. get it?
a solipsist walks into a bar. or perhaps it was merely an internal mental projection of some sort.
a premonition always had a feeling that it would walk into a bar.
a paraprosdokian walks into a bar and no one gets the joke.
a malapropism walks into a barn.
a simile walks into a bar like a metaphor checks into a hotel.
that’s all I got . . .
This sentence is a microcosm of a much larger sentence that you are not privy to.
I know that a lot of people feel that “observational comedy” has become so overdone. But I think I’ve found one facet of the genre that has yet to be fully exploited.
The way I see it, most comedians tend to focus their efforts on making witty observations about the world. But me, I have decided to dedicate myself to making all the observations, not just the witty ones. For instance, in my burgeoning comedy routine, I will say things like “Hey look, a chair.” Or “This thing in my hand appears to be a microphone.” Or “It seems as though nobody is laughing right now.” And so on.
All in a day’s work for this comedic pioneer…
I usually don’t write about politics, but I’m going to make an exception in this case: I’m glad that Joe Biden announced that he isn’t going to run for President this year. I mean, he seems like a nice enough of a guy on the surface. But I simply cannot ignore the fact that he is Vice President – literally the president in charge of wicked and immoral behaviors! Criminy, why do we even have one of those?!
Do we really want to take the person who has overseen all of our nation’s vices over the last seven years, and put him in charge of our military? Or allow him to make all the jokes at the annual White House Correspondents’ Dinner? Or . . . I don’t know, whatever else Presidents do?
Not. A. Chance.
Sorry I have once again been away for a while. I was busy executing my secret plan to overthrow the government via a strategic use of non-dairy creamers. Everything went swimmingly. Operation successful, achievement unlocked, and all that.
I’m sure that some of you may be thinking: “But the government doesn’t *look* overthrown. It seems like all the same people to me.”
To which I reply: Sure, all the politicians may seem the same on the surface. But have you looked inside their coffees?
Why do we always “face” obstacles? Why not “torso” obstacles, or “leg” or “arm” them instead?
I take that back. We really shouldn’t arm obstacles. Obstacles are bad enough already without the weapons.
All of the writing guides argue that it is better to use “despite” rather than “in spite of.” Despite these guides’ preferences for “despite,” I plan to use “in spite of” anyway.
I am doing this out of spite.