An Average Day at Boone’s Farm

Wendy Boone:  Papa! Papa!  The hills are yielding another healthy bounty of strawberries!

Paul Boone:  Isn’t it glorious?  We shall start harvest by Autumn’s end. 

Linda Boone:  Our Lord’s benevolence calls for a toast.  Should I open up a bottle of our wine? 

Paul Boone:  Yes, but not that bottle, dear.  Why that’s merely from 2003.  This occasion calls for the good stuff.  Simon, please go down to the cellar and retrieve a vintage ’92 bottle.

Simon Boone: Yes, Papa!

Linda Boone:  Paul, I was balancing the company books and over the last fiscal year we’ve, yet again, marginally made profit.  Do you suppose this year we can charge more than $3 per bottle? 

Paul Boone:  Never!  We didn’t start this business to make profit, Linda.  We did it so that every working family can afford a nice bottle of wine with their supper.

A Terrible Review of Star Trek

Before my viewing of the new Star Trek film I heard somebody say that it was a great popcorn flick.  With this in mind, I headed into my matinee screening with a large bucket of buttered popcorn.  I anticipated my friend would help me eat this popcorn but to my surprise he’d already eaten a “big breakfast.” (he’s a bit of a country boy)  Whatever, not a big deal.  I thought he’d change his mind once we sat down and the previews started but he NEVER reached over for the obligatory popcorn grab.  Not even once!  So there I was facing a large tub of freshly popped corn all by lonesome.  You probably thought I didn’t finish it, don’t you?  Well, I’m embarrassed to report that you’d be wrong, fair reader.  I am like a dog when it comes to movie popcorn; I have an insatiable appetite and will eat it until I become ill…then I’ll eat it some more (I ended up getting a free refill).  Needless to say but holy balls did I get a nasty stomachache!  My belly was in so much pain that it was really hard to focus on my immediate surroundings, let alone the movie that was playing 40 feet away.  But the parts I did catch I recall good memories.  There were colorful costumes, intricate sets, neat special effects and attractive people talking about time travel and their relationships and shit.  It was pretty cool.  You should check it out but be warned: popcorn does not enhance the experience!

Ruminating on the University or Chug Chug Drink Time Sex

May is upon us meaning that thousands of college students will shortly be taking their graduation stride across their university’s stage.  This is a nostalgic time for me as I can’t help but reflect on my cherished college experience.  As a performer I also enjoy reading other artist’s renderings on higher education.  Specifically, I really enjoy Walt Whitman’s poem An Old Man’s Thought on School and Asher Roth’s hip-hop song I Love College.  These two artists are a prime example that even when two people born in different eras, separated by over a century, both have school experiences that parallel each other.  

Don’t believe me?  Well then it’s time to put your books away for it’s pop quiz time!  Below are passages by both Whitman and and Roth but it’s up to you to decide who penned what.  If you feel so inclined, please leave a comment with your answers and I’ll grade them shortly.  

1.) 

And these I see–these sparking eyes,

These stores of mystic meaning–these young lives,

Building, equipping, like a fleet of ships–immortal ships!

Soon to sail out over the measureless seas,

On the Soul’s voyage.  

2.)

That party last night was awfully crazy I wish we taped it 

I danced my ass of and had this one girl completely naked. 

Drink my beer and smoke my weed but my good friends is all I need

Pass out at 3, wake up at 10, go out to eat then do it again

3.)

Ah more–infinitely more;

(As George Fox rais’d his warning cry, “Is it this pile of brick and mortar–these dead

floors, windows, rails–you call the church?

Why this is not the church at all–the Church is living, ever living Souls.) 

4.) 

Man, I love college, ay!

I love drinking, ay!

I love women, ay!

I love college. 

5.)

Only a lot of boys and girls?

Only the tiresome spelling, writing, ciphering classes?

Only a Public School?  

6.)

Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!

Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!

Freshman! Freshman!

Freshman! Freshman!

7.) 

Now only do I know you!

O fair auroral skies! O morning dew upon the grass!

8.)

Do something crazy! Do something crazy!

Do something crazy! Do something crazy!

Keg stand! Keg stand!

Keg stand! Keg stand!

9.)

And you, America,

Cast you the real reckoning for weed smokin’,

hooking up on the quad, and consuming chimichangas at 2AM. 

O ethereal light that bestows me!

10.)

Hold the ale bong, nothing wrong on this auspicious autumn dawn!

So fill up my cup, brethren, and celebrate Dionysus 

In regards to prophylactic, put two on

Once your done, get some cheap pizzas.

What I Expect Every Psychologist Wants Me To Say About My Relationship With Performing

It’s crazy.  I can do improv show after improv show in front of hundreds of people and I never get scared.   Most people would lose their shit if they were in my shoes.  Not me though.  I always considered myself as part of a rare breed, as someone who was blessed with an intrepid soul.  But then the other night before a show I was asked to host for the evening and then I quickly realized something: I am terrified of something after all.

I’m afraid of being myself.

I became paralyzed with fear with the mere notion that I would have to present in front of an audience as only myself.  I would have no character to hide behind, no mask to reveal my real identity.  And that frightens me because, quite honestly, (pause) I don’t know who I am.   

Oh, it feels so liberating to finally say that!  Everything I’ve said or done in my life so far has been premeditated in order to make people laugh.  I’ve been a pathetic chuckle whore who gives joke jobs and lets people yuck-yuck my bits.  Well NO MORE.  I’m being real for the first time in my life and it feels good.  From now on I’m gonna have to take care of someone more important than an audience, someone who I’ve been ignoring for way too long:

me.

Law and Order Producer Dick Wolf’s Worst Nightmare

FADE IN:

THE KODAK THEATRE 

M.C.

Good evening.  I would like to welcome everyone involved in Dick’s life: his beautiful family, friends, colleagues, directors, actors, teachers, ex-girlfriends, rival producers, former bullies and arch nemesis who are all gathered here tonight to honor TV mogul, Dick Wolf.  You’ve all shaped him into the successful man he is today so we thank you for your presence this evening.  Please sit down.

PAN OVER A FULL HOUSE

(Cont.)

To start off the night we will proceed with the traditional “Lifetime Achievement Award” role call.  To perform this ceremony I’d like to introduce Dick’s 5th Grade gym teacher, Curt Hightower.  Although Curt has lost a good majority of his eyesight and hearing over the years, he has graciously accepted the position.  

CURT enters from stage right and leans into the microphone.

CURT

Please stand up when your name is called.  (Pressing an index card directly into his face)  Wolf, Dick.

DICK stands up to acknolwedge his name.  CURT does not see him.

(Pause)

CURT 

Wolf, Dick!

DICK waves his arms and yells “Here”  but to no avail.

CURT

WOLF, DICK!

DICK violently jumps up and screams to grab CURT’s attention.  Again without success.

   CURT

WOLF, DICK!

WOLF, DICK!

WOLF, DICK!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why Coal is a Dirty Fossil Fuel

Damnnnn, girl!  You is fine.  If I generate electricity then you must generate boners.   I saw you workin’ it on the dancefloor and I think I just emitted all of my carbon in my pants.

One of These Things Is Very Much Not Like the Other

The English language is great.  I’m not ashamed to say that I use it everyday.  In fact, my relationship with the English language has lasted so long now that I’m comfortable enough to say I love it.  I’m not alone on this sentiment.  A majority of Americans have such a high affinity with English that they choose to bypass other tempting romantic languages and exclusively speak it–some even appreciate it so much that they refer to it as “speaking American,” as in: “Why don’t those Mexicans start speaking American?  My love for the language though is not unconditional; there are boundaries that can be broached. 

Case in point: the parameters behind using the word unique.  Now, if I may be permitted to utilize a 5th grader writing technique, Webster’s Dictionary defines unique as “being the only one of its kind; unlike anything else.”  I have nothing wrong with this definition but I do, however, have a huge beef with how east coast elitists (educated democrats) use this definition as justification for correcting people when they refer to something as being ‘very unique.’  These self-proclaimed grammar police will point out that the word unique inherently means it’s unlike anything else therefore there can’t be degrees of it; it’s either unique or it’s not. 

Bullshit.

Example: snowflakes.  No two snowflakes are ever the same which warrants them as being unique from each other.  But let’s say that one of these snowflakes has a striking resemblance to country music legend Merle Haggard.

Imagine this snowflake landing on your nose!

 Not only does this snowflake look just like this country-western pioneer, but as it descends from the sky it plays a muzak version of “Walking on the Sun” by Smash Mouth.   And to top it off, once it lands to the ground it explodes into an army of monarch butterflies, majestically flying away into the horizon.  

If you witnessed this snowflake would you just refer to it as “unique” or would you say that it is “the most fucking extremely unique” snowflake you’ve ever encountered?  Exactly.

Now I’m sure there are some “rational” people out there that would point out that my example is completely contingent in a hypothetical world and that we, in fact, do not live hypothetically.  Well, if that’s your rebuttal then that means you don’t believe in miracles as you can’t put limitations on miracles.  And I think everybody can agree that if we live in a world devoid of any chance for Merle Haggard snowflakes that play Smash Mouth and transform into butterflies to fall from the sky then what’s the point of existence?

I just want everyone to acknowledge that this is a small flaw in the language.  Once we all agree on this I believe we as a people can move on and live the fruitful lives we were intended to have.  Flaws can be overlooked; just look at Cindy Crawford.  She is beautiful even with that very unique mole on her face.

Bomb Threat

If you receive a bomb threat

• Remain calm.  But not so calm that you doze off.  Remember, an evil lunatic has just jeopardized your life.  
• Try to obtain as much information as possible.  But don’t waste a lot of valuable time gathering this as you could potentially become annihilated with each impending second.  
• Inspect your own work area, but do not touch or move any suspicious objects.  Suspicious objects include, and are limited to, an obvious bomb.   
• Do not discuss the call with anyone else.  But if a co-worker asks who just called that caused you to become wan, do not just shrug it off and say it was your ex-girlfriend and resume your spreadsheet.  In this scenario it’s appropriate to relay the message to everyone that a raving madman has just threatened to kill everyone.  
• Do not use two-way radios during a bomb search, because signals from these radios could detonate a bomb device with an electric blasting cap.  Due to major advances in technology in the last twenty years, there are a myriad of other ways a bomb can be detonated: a text, a tweet, or simply uploading a facebook photo album can all trigger a lethal device.  Keep this mind as you feel compelled to use any electronic devices around you.    

Bomb Threat Checklist

Date_____     Time of call______a.m/p.m.

When will it go off?___________ Do you believe this answer?  Y   N

Where is it located?___________ Again, do you think this guy is just pulling your leg? Y  N

Does he/she sound like a nerd, dork, or dweeb? ______________ 

What do you think the deal is with this guy!?  Parent issues/other?___________________

What do you think this person’s favorite cereal is? Justify your answer__________________

I’ve Read That

I read a study recently that revealed nearly 50% of men (ostensibly) lie to their friends or potential partners about what they read in order to make a strong impression.  I find this hard to believe.  Sure, it’s plausible that a few guys falsely inflate their literacy history but I have a strong suspicion that most do not.  

Take me for example; I am a voracious reader, my free time is often spent indulging in a classic work of fiction. However, the motivation behind my reading isn’t sparked by the incentive of impressing friends or girls; rather, it’s personal enlightenment that I’m striving for.   It’s like what Jack Kerouack eloquently stated in his classic On the Road: “Hitchhiking is a fun way to reach an epiphany.”  I’ve adopted this saying as my own personal thesis statement, except I replace the word ‘hitchhiking’ with ‘reading’ and I keep ‘epiphany’ as ‘epiphany.’   To make this less cryptic for the non-reader: “Reading is a fun way to reach an epiphany.”  

Ever since I was a child I’ve had an innate thirst for literature.   It wasn’t until my collegiate years though that this passion exploded into fruition.    

During my student days when I would highlight every sentence of every paragraph (including the index and glossary) in everyone of my textbooks it was not because I lacked the simple analytical ability to differentiate between truly relevant passages from the inconsequential.  On the contrary, it was because I had a keen understanding that every single sentence is imperative to the book as a whole.

And, at the end of each semester, when I would later sell my books for well under the market price to the little kiosk located on the Domino’s parking lot, it was not because I was desperate for beer/late night burritos cash.  Sure, I might have spent this extra cash on booze and burritos but that’s not the point.  The point is that I performed a noble deed as I elected to forward my breadth of knowledge onto incoming class of students for a reasonable price.  

And, the following year, when an underclassmen would buy back my used book and discover my markings inside, he or she most definitely did not become upset or baffled.  No, I have a strong suspicion that right after they opened my previously owned editions of Beowulf and Walden and scanned fluorescent page after beautiful fluorescent page with scribbled, handwritten notes like: ‘Grendel=bad monster…possibly represents hell?’ and ‘he really likes gardens… gardens=heaven?’ they secretly whispered to me, “Thank you, stranger.  Thank you for helping me unlock the answers.” 

Although I got rid of a good chunk of my college books, my post-college bookshelf is still filled to capacity.  I realize the impending sentence may come across as esoteric, but I don’t care: my apartment is filled with tomes of Dan Brown and Dean Koontz novels.  So if you witness me at a party make a clever Angels and Demons or Mr. Murder reference, you better believe your ass that I know what I’m talking about.  And if you think bragging about your affinity for a book entitled Mr. Murder will get you laid then you are misinformed.  But that’s fine with me as I’m only reading for one chick: my literary muse.  

Yes, I concede that there exists a population out there that lies about their literary street cred but they only represent the minority.   Call it blind faith but I believe there are lots of people on this earth that are just like me.  There’s just something in my gut that tells me that this world is filled with smart, well read people.  Or, to frame it in the realm of the classic Of Mice and Men, I strongly believe there are far more people like Lenny then there are like George.

The Origin of the Name Spencer as Envisioned by all Young Boys Named Spencer

Time: Circa 200 A.D.

Location: A cave

(an innocent boy en route to gather firewood for his family stumbles upon an evil witch in the middle of a seance)

Evil Witch:  Whom dare disturbs me!?!

Innocent Boy:  My pardon, ma’am. Didn’t mean to interrupt. 

Evil Witch: Silence!!  What is your name, boy? 

Innocent Boy: (frightened)  Uh, um, uh…

Evil Witch:  What is your name, BOY!?

Innocent Boy: Uh, um, uh…

Evil Witch:  Very well.  If you don’t give me a name I shall give you one!  (cackles)  For disturbing me you shall pay the price. (points wand towards him)  From now on I curse you with the name of Spencer, a name so Waspy that you’ll be despised by intimidating rural men and every young, nice woman you’ll meet will want to befriend you!

Innocent Boy: Oh.  Except for that first part, that doesn’t sound so bad.  Actually, that will be nice to have some female companionship.  I really want a girlfriend.

Evil Witch: A girlfriend?!?  (cackles)  Who said anything about a girlfriend? These girls will just want to befriend you but will completely dismiss you as a romantic partner.  They will refer to you as “Spence” and “Spencey” and you’ll always be their sweet, funny friend that’s “just like a brother” to them!

Innocent Boy: Spencey!?  NOOO!!!!