Start Your Day Off Right

Whenever I listen to a new comedian that I dig, rather than simply having their jokes in my head, I also start to craft my own jokes that rip on their style. A similar thing takes place when I read a book that I like, and I find myself somewhat adopting the author's writing style. I'm not a parasite or anything though, I swear, instead I liken it to Rogue's super power, just less cool and less well executed.

In the last week, my comedian of choice, courtesy of a coworker, has been Demetri Martin. Just prior to this I was on a huge Gaffigan kick (see past posting that I am too lazy to link to), and before that it was all about Sir Digby Chicken Caesar (posted same vid before, but what the Hell...). I'm still loving those, I just spend more time listening to Demetri these days. So, this morning while I stretched after my run, I composed a couple of Demetri-esque jokes I thought I would share. In fact, I'm still thinking I'll share them, as I'm putting them down here right now.

The other day at work a guy asked me how I was feeling. I told him, "Usually with my hands." When he looked at me funny I said, "Well it has to do with nerve endings and synapses..."

The last week at work I signed myself up as a kitchen monitor. So someone asks me "How's the kitchen monitoring going?" I told him, "Well, see for yourself, it's still there."

After writing these down on a piece of notebook paper while I was taking a dump this morning I realized, "Hey, maybe I'm not thinking like these comedians, maybe they think like me." But actually what I mean is that I think I end up liking comedians that tell jokes I would tell only I wouldn't tell them because they are better comedians than me, but if I were a better comedian, those are the kind of jokes I would tell. When I started typing that, it seemed like a revelation (actually more of an epiphany), but really I just said that I have comedic tastes, just like everyone else. Still, no way I am deleting that paragraph.

Anyway, in addition to my low-grade Demetri copycat efforts, I feel compelled to share this video clip as well because it will make you feel retarded. At that point, if you're as hooked on his humor (and in awe of his brainpower) as I am of late, go ahead and check out his website.

Bloggin' on the Train

In the interest of time and because I am not too into Everything is Illuminated so far I've resorted to blogging on the train. That, and I just like how it sounds just enough like that classic Milli Vanilli jam.

This past weekend I attended graduation at my alma mater where the big story was Barack Obama, or Oback Barama as I've become fond of referring to him, replacing Ted Kennedy as keynote speaker. The speech I would give a "B," but turnout an A+ or so. Not surprisingly, after Obama spoke, shit cleared out in a hurry, which I actually thought was a little offensive to the graduates, but they probably didn't give a shit since they all shook hands with the Senator and presidential hopeful.

I honestly was expecting to drop some stuff here, but as I tend to get nappy on the train ride home, I'm already getting pretty close to my stop. I will say that on my ride in this morning I had a fairly fulfilling experience. Despite the fact that the train is packed because it's rush hour, many a commuter insists on not simply placing some item on the seat next to them to discourage a passenger joining them, but also looking ahead so as not to have to make eye contact with a potential seat sharer or, better yet, pretend to be asleep. Normally I just think quietly to myself what dicks these people are, but this morning I decided to assert my rights a little. A spotted an Indian gentleman in a fairly nice suit, covering the adjoining seat with a light folder, a seriously weak effort. In spite of this, his look away tactic had thus far been successful until I inserted a gruff "excuse me." He still kept his legs spread wide so as to give me less than my entitled allotment of seat.

Boring story I know, except that when he thought I had nodded off to sleep in the tunnel I observed him digging ferociously in his right nostril and then examine the spoils before placing it on the floor. I admit I was hoping he would eat it, but not every commute can be this action packed.

On a less boring note for the time being, I suggest you check out my buddy Blake's blog. A lot of funny shit happens to Blake, plus he has a gift, I feel, for placing it on the page. Whenever I get around to taking an extra three seconds to change my layout, I'll post a permanent link.

Finally, before I am likely without interweb for a few days I must post a link to the first episode of my current obsession,
Sir Digby Chicken Caesar, a recurring bit on the BBC sketch comedy show That Mitchell and Webb Look.

You must dine at my club sometime.