Filed under: stand-up journal | Tags: writing, cockblock, Patrick Dempsey, Made of Honor, 27 Dresses, coke, television, On Demand
I haven’t been writing much. Yes. It’s been months since I’ve written anything substantial. So excuse these next few paragraphs as I rid myself of my own immaturity.
My inactivity in the realm of writing? I blame television.
Actually, it’s not so much television. It’s OnDemand movies, available in completely worthless cable packages. My eyes have been gently raped by an incredibly questionable selection of movies in the past month:
Hot Rod, The Condemned, She’s All That, Paul Blart: Mall Cop, Eagle Eye.
I’ve seen Made of Honor five times1.
My roommate–the dastardly one who holds the cable contract–claims I need better self control. Oh, okay. Sure. Why don’t you take a recovering coke addict, drop ten kilos of coke2 in the middle of his living room, and tell him, “Hey man, self control.”
Yes, I just compared television to coke. Do not call me unreasonable. I KNOW what is unreasonable, and what is unreasonable, is any sane man watching Made of Honor five times.
Whew3.
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1) Can you blame me? OMGPatrickDempsey. Excited gasp!
2) Contrary to what you may believe, I have no idea how much 10 kilos of coke actually is. All I know is it sounds like you’d get fucked up.
3) Okay. I think I can stay television-sober for a few months until they start playing 27 Dresses every hour again.
Filed under: stand-up journal | Tags: 30, 30dayscreenplay, April, blog, comedy, days, futile, internet, love, month, NaNoWriMo, national, New York, novel, Orange County, scarce, screenplay, Script Frenzy, writing
Living without Internet.
Other than what should be a complete oxymoron, living without Internet is pretty much the most inconvenient thing I can do to myself. So unfortunately for you, my blog posts have become scarce, and my comedy updates intermittent.
But we’re back, at least for tonight. Since tonight, is a big night. Not only do I have a new video for YouTube (patience…I will post it soon), it’s also April 1st. If there were ever a month that could be anthropomorphically described as a burning pile of whore, April would be said pile.
Why?
Because I’m a bitter, bitter, human being, and I still remember the terrible loss I suffered from last year’s Script Frenzy, a national contest every April where millions of writers join to try to complete a screenplay in 30 days1, duly documented at the original 30dayscreenplay.blogspot.com. Exactly a year ago I began a journey. Thirty days later, I ended up with a magnificent 13 pages. Pathetic. I cried horribly and ate loads of chocolate while watching 27 Dresses.
But that was Orange County. This is New York. Different time, different story. More importantly – less sun, and a nonexistent love life2. This year, I shall so excruciatingly punish Script Frenzy with my furious typing that Script Frenzy won’t know the difference between brass knuckles to the face and its mother’s warm, welcoming teets3.
So go check it out. 30dayscreenplay. The challenge gets taken on for a second season.
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1Brought to you by the guys who started National Novel Writing Month (aka NaNoWriMo), where you write a novel in 30 days. Sherlock, I think I sense a pattern here…
2Okay, my love life was always nonexistent. But really, less sun this year, less distractions.
3See what I did there? I’m trying to say I’m going to punish Script Frenzy so bad that brass knuckles will actually seem nice, much like its mother’s warm, welcoming teets. I think Script Frenzy may be a cow.
Filed under: great finds, stand-up journal, video | Tags: analogies, comedy, teacher, Washington Post, writing
Great comedic writing can often come unexpectedly, like from these samples of analogies “collected by High School English teachers.” And by High School English teachers, I mean that these analogies are the winning entries in a 1999 Washington Post humor contest. The entire list of entries can be found by clicking here.
A few of my favorites:
4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
I love the use of verbiage to deploy humor. And non sequiturs, which ironically are often best delivered by people who don’t do it on purpose, but just suck at life, like below.
