I once belonged to a vicious street gang that threatened to kill me if I ever tried to leave. Well I got myself out and I’m still alive, but they are relentless with the emails asking me to renew my membership.
It’s Not Faire
I used to think of myself as a renaissance man. That was until thy lusty wench of a wife ran off with thy stable boy. Now I’m just a renaissance cuckold.
Asleep at the Wheel
The enormous variable message signs above I-95 currently read “Alert Drivers Can Avoid a Crash”. Maybe that’s helpful, but when I roll down my window and scream, “Eyes on the road, asshole!” fewer tax dollars are wasted.
Crowd Pleaser
Lenny Kravitz split his pants during a show last week, exposing his genitals to the audience. I just saw the picture. His penis has kind of a retro vibe reminiscent of Jimi Hendrix and Sly Stone.
The Organist
Sometimes people will laugh at me when I tell them I’m a jazz pianist – because “pianist” (when pronounced correctly) sounds like “penis.” However, it’s nothing compared to the daily ridicule I endured when I was a classical vaginist.
Wrongful Termination
I got fired today. My boss told me he was sick of me coming in late and surfing the web during office hours, plus he had received several complaints of me drunk texting co-workers. Sometimes I feel like the world just doesn’t want me to succeed.
Comedy Tonight
I love stand-up comedy. I often wonder if I’m too old to start acting like a jackass on stage in front of total strangers. But then I look to the inspirational work of Donald Trump and I keep going.
Let It Ride
My driving instructor told me one way to avoid road rage is to pretend you know the driver of the offending car, that way you are more likely to stay calm. Yesterday some jackhole cut me off in traffic so I pretended he was my friend Orlando. It worked for a minute until I remembered that Orlando owed me 500 bucks. I ran that prick off the road.
Showgirl
I was traveling alone in Las Vegas. Upon returning to my hotel room I discovered my top drawer was filled with nothing but women’s panties. I called the front desk to complain. Thankfully they recovered the missing bras and feather boas, so I was still able to perform at Burlesque Weekend.
Party of 2
I emailed several of my friends that I was having a birthday party and no one bothered getting back to me except Daemon Mailer. He wasn’t even on my guest list, but he brought a delicious potato salad.