Here is a midweek bonus…no dogs make an appearance although some of the jokes may be reasonably compared to mongrels.
A couple of years ago I had the lame idea I’d try my hand at stand-up comedy. It seemed everyone was doing it. Why couldn’t I?
So I took a comedy class. I only lasted three sessions. Me and the teacher disagreed on what was funny. He seemed focused on the first joke I wrote about my name. He wanted me to do more along those lines. I think the joke is marginally funny but I wanted it left as an introductory standalone.
It seemed the other things I thought were funny, he didn’t. Since I wasn’t having any fun with this guy, I stopped going to his class. At my age if I’ve decided to try something and I’m not having fun or it turns out I’m not that interested after all, I’ll stop. I don’t really have to finish that boring book. I don’t have to sit through a stupid movie. I don’t have to watch the next episode of whatever Netflix is streaming.
Below I present what would likely have been much of my standup routine. Some of the jokes are lame and I went for low hanging fruit. Hey, I never said I was an intellectual.
And now introducing…
This would have been me entering the stage…waving hands…exclaiming “Praise Jesus!”
And then telling the audience,
“Made ya’ll nervous didn’t I. You’re thinking ‘well this is taking an unexpected turn. Is he going to speak in tongues?’ No but I did ask God to make my jokes funny. Prayers aren’t always answered.”
My name is Ralph. I’ve never liked my name. You know the connotation: “he drank so much he Ralphed in his girlfriend’s car.” I didn’t change it because it was also my father’s name and it would be disrespectful. But I guess ole’ Dad was a glutton for punishment. He drove a Buick.
I’m getting up there in age now and I’ve determined that I may not be smart enough for modern life.
I remember explaining on-line bill paying using a smartphone to my 90-year-old mother. I told her that I go to the banking app on my phone, access my account and send money electronically to whomever I want to pay. I rarely have to touch a paper bill or write a check. After all of that here’s what she heard:
It’s magic.
Today when someone tries to explain to me the Metaverse, Non-Fungible Tokens, Blockchain and crypto mining
Here’s what I hear:
It’s freakin’ magic.
Let’s face it, modern life is magical and strange.
It’s confusing for us married folks to know which dating app to use.
It used to be Budweiser, Miller and Schlitz. Now there are so many choices I’ll never sober up.
When you say insta do you mean a cook pot or a social media platform?
If I ask Alexa a question I have to get a second opinion from Siri.
Speaking of Alexa, we have to blindfold her before having sex.
Life is bazaar isn’t it? I mean just look around and you see all kinds of weirdness.
There’s a sign on a door in the Marietta GA post office that says: Not an Entrance or an Exit.
Another sign I saw said No Thru Traffic….on a boat ramp.
I see people feeding alligators standing right next to a sign that says DO NOT FEED THE ALLIGATORS?
I always hope they have a small dog.
As I get older I think about death a lot. And it’s not just the normal stuff.
Did you know, according to the CDC, hundreds of people have died by becoming tangled in their bed sheets?
Now I'm scared to go to bed AND I have questions. Does having a fitted sheet on the bottom reduce the likelihood of death? If I make my wife mad before going to bed will she facilitate the sheet tangling process?
I didn’t even think it was true but then a buddy of mine died while tangled up in the bed sheets with his girlfriend. His wife shot him.
Here’s another one. Laughing too hard can trigger a heart attack. Somehow, I think ya’ll are all safe at the moment.
I was raised with a lot of guilt. My mother made sure of that. I even feel guilty for what other people do.
I feel guilty I liked the Cosby show. But I made up for it by watching Blackish
I feel guilty if my trail mix has M&Ms in it.
I feel guilty if it is a two for one sale and I only buy one.
I feel guilty if I sit in first class. Actually, nobody feels guilty for sitting in first class.
I love bumper stickers.
They tell a lot about people. But I don’t think like most folks. As a normal and nice person, YOU might see a 26.2 bumper sticker and think “wow, that person must be a hell of a runner.”
Here’s what I think…arrogant putz.
If I see a 13.1 sticker … I think: “Quitter!!”
Family stick figures. You know those? Mom, dad, three increasingly tiny children and a dog. Even I know only white people are dumb enough to buy those.
I saw this one out on I-85 in Atlanta: Caution Asian Driver.
Now THAT’s truth in advertising.
I’m sure you are asking yourselves “what kind of bumper sticker am I?” As I’m sure you can tell, I am no runner. Instead of 26.2 I have a 0.0 sticker. That means the only running I do is to the bar at last call.
I bet I know what you’re thinking…Arrogant putz!
Good night ladies and germs!
Lollllllllll!