Tag Archives: literally

on observational comedy: my personal observations

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…

do we really want a Vice President in the White House?

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.

what a heel!

The term Achilles’ heel has an apostrophe, because it’s a reference to the heel that belonged to the ancient Greek hero Achilles. Therefore, by the transitive properties of apostrophes, when we talk about something being our Achilles’ heel, that something does not actually belong to us. It belongs to Achilles. Even though that guy has been dead for like, forever.

And given that Achilles allowed his own Achilles’ heel to be shot by an arrow, I really don’t think that we should be trusting this Achilles guy with all of our Achilles’ heels!

Seriously, we’re really vulnerable here – this is an area of weakness that someone may exploit.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop

If the shoe fits, wear it. That’s what they say.

But first, I want to know where this shoe came from? Is it brand new? Or does it belong to someone else? If so, do they have any communicable foot-borne diseases that I should be aware of? Also, why are they so willing to part with their own shoe? Is there something wrong with it? Or perhaps it was stolen without their consent? And if I were to wear it, wouldn’t that make me complicit in some kind of shoe-thievery activities?

Also, what kind of shoe are we talking about here? If it’s like, a four-inch heel, then sorry, I can no longer wear heels that high since developing plantar fasciitis. Or if it’s a Birkenstock or one of those weird orange clog-like things that Mario Batali wears, then fuck you, there is simply no way that I am putting crap like that on my foot!

And I can’t help but notice that it’s “if the shoe fits” – singular. So then, what about my other foot? Am I really supposed to walk around with only one shoe? The more that I think about it, this whole thing sounds like some kind of shoe-based pyramid scheme. Or perhaps I will be forced to sit through a day-long timeshare sales pitch before they actually give me the other shoe. No thank you!

The authorities really should investigate these shoe people. They are up to no good. I’m sure of it.

baseball is a game of adjustments

They say that baseball is a game of adjustments. And it really is true. All you have to do is watch and you’ll see hitters frequently stepping out of the batter’s box in order to adjust their batting gloves. Or you’ll often see the catcher approach the pitcher’s mound so that together they can discuss making adjustments regarding their strategy for getting the batter out.

And the people who say they hate baseball because they think it’s too “boring” or that it “moves to slow” simply don’t realize that it is a game of adjustments. In a very very literal sense.