My Stand Up Routine!

Discussion in 'Archives' started by JackS27, Nov 24, 2006.

  1. JackS27 Twilight Town Denizen

    Nov 20, 2006
    Right behind you. Spooky, yes?
    Hi! I just wrote this, I'd like to perform it live sometime. Let me know what you think.

    Oh, and I'm decent at voices, so imagine me doing them when in quotations.


    All right. Here we go. How are you all doing tonight? Are we Living La Vida Loca? I haven't listened to radio in a while. That song is still popular, right? Huh? Maybe we can all do the Macarena later, because that's what the rage is with us young people today. Am I right, folks? Nah. I listen to the radio sometimes. I just don't often think there's anything worth listening to. I mean, there's a lot of rap on the air today which, personally, I can't stand. Though I will say "Amish Paradise" rocked my socks. No, but...And, you know, I mean no disrespect to people trying to make a living or people who find meaning in everything these artists do, hey that's your taste, that's cool. It is not my taste, and I will tell you why. When it comes to rap, what I have to say I truly dislike about it is the melody. Mainly the fact that there isn't one. You're declaring to a backbeat. Seriously, stop the charade. It's spoken-word poetry. In the 1920's, you'd all have berets, goatees, and a set of bongos, people. And I mean the instruments. Get your mind out of the gutter.

    "I like big butts and I cannot lie." Personally, that's not a part of the woman's body I take a special liking to. You know, it's nice as part of the whole, but...ahh...not so hot by itself. See, the thing about an a** is...I have one myself, and I know what mine does. So, you see, I'm not so enthralled. Whatever floats your boat, though. Wink wink, nudge nudge. "I like big butts." There's a lot of that kind of thing in rap. Nah, I'm picking on rap too much, pretty much all songs since the beginning of music are sexual. Just some genres are more subtle than others. The Beatles sing "I wanna hold your hand", it sounds nice and cute and respectful and you know for a fact that if they had their way holding hands would be just the tip of the iceberg. I'm not one of those people who say that violence on the streets comes from rap, that's one thing I will vehemently defend rap on. Violence in the world is not caused by the lyrics of a rap song, or the body count in a Governator movie, or the mobster from the video game killing hookers with a car battery and a vanilla smoothie. Violence is caused by people being unintelligent d***s to each other. And if you seriously can't separate the fantasy of a song lyric or a video game from real life morals, there's a word for what you are. It's not politically correct, I'm sad to say, but that word is f***ing ******ed. Not just ******ed. F***ing ******ed. You need the swear in there to catch the full power of this label. See? I know, and I hate to swear. I love hearing it, but I don't like saying it too often. I made a sacrifice for you people tonight, I hope you appreciate that.

    Anyway, backtrack now, I sent you all on a little journey, I'm going to bring you back to the main road. Stay together people, we're walking, we're walking, and stop! Rap isn't the only music that bugs me. I dislike it, but since I've always disliked it, it doesn't quite offend me as much as what they're passing off as "rock" nowadays. Because I used to be able to say "I like rock!" Now, I'm afraid to in case someone lumps one of these modern hacks into the category. Again, I don't mean to offend people who actually like this kind of music, but I'm on stage so you have to listen to what I have to say. Modern bands who classify themselves as "rock", for the most part, fall into two categories. There's these loud Death Metal types who do not sing, these men do not sing, they scream or growl all their lyrics. "Bury me in your deathloins! I'll get you next time, Gadget!" But, miraculously, I can't tell if they're worse or better than the second group. These bands have singers who also do not sing. These singers whine. They whine and whine oh, how sad. And these fall into two subcategories. There's the one, where the singers try to imitate Kurt Cobain or Eddie Vedder and not realize that both people sang like Marlon Brando's Godfather stunt doubles. Then we've got these Emo kids who whine high and clear but way out of key. "My life is really miserable, but my friend knows three chords." Ugh.

    I've probably offended you people with different musical tastes, I apologize. Let's talk about dating because there's no possible way I can offend anyone with that subject. Who here is single? Yeah! Hooray for the very very sad and lonely. Yeah, no man, I love love. I'm a hopeless romantic. I'm a one-woman man, and that woman is treated with every bit of respect and care you can imagine. Unfortunately very few women have found this out because, apparently, so I'm told, this is how they see me: "We wants it...we needs it...must have the preciousss! They stole it from us..." I just got out of a serious relationship recently. I think the technical term is "unceremoniously dropkicked." It was a long distance relationship, and you know, I always seem to find myself in those. I mean women think I'm charming, kind, and a great catch...when they don't have to be near me. "Fat hobbit is always so polite."

    It's hard, being in the dating scene again. Never really was in any scene to begin with. I've been going to a couple of parties. Campus radio station has parties at this bar all the time and, for the record, I don't drink or do any kind of drugs. You want me to be in complete control of my mind at all times, trust me. Anyway, yeah...I've got a question...what is up with the women who dance by rubbing their behinds in your crotch? I mean, I get on the dance floor...I come from the "make crap up as you go" school of dancing...and these women gyrate and rub themselves on me. And the worst part is I never see them again once the song's over! I'm like "Hey! Where are you going? I thought we had something special, you harlot!" Nope, you're going home alone more lonely than you were when you got there because you had it in front of you and it was snatched away at the last second! Tis a cruel world, my friends.

    And you know, I'm not really a bad lover. I just wish someone would let me prove that. I'll admit, I have not done the do. I'd be up for sacrifice in a more primitive culture. Or if there was a dragon around. No, but in lack of doing, I'm reading. I've read and searched and studied techniques of pleasure, so all I need is a willing victim. I mean...oh shoot, now I'll never get any. They’re on to me. Ha...but, you know, I'm terrified, man. I'm worried about how I'm going to be, whether my training has paid off. Well, at least if I'm not that great, I've got a healthy collection of toys for my woman to use. I think she'll dig my mint condition Boba Fett in his original packaging, what do you think? Yeah, it's tough though. Several of the girlfriends I've had in my life made promises. "Oh, we'll lose our virginity together! It will be wonderful." Well, they never stuck around long enough to make good on our promises, but oddly enough they all managed to find someone to fill in for me afterwards.'re applauding my pain.

    But, you know, that's just how it goes. It'll happen for me, and it'll happen for all of you...I just hope by the time it comes for me I'll still have enough blood left in my brain to make a good judgment on who with. Because you can't deny how the male brain wants to work. You can hate it, you can try to resist, but the thoughts always pop in there. It's just how we're wired. I like to cuddle. Call me a girl, but cuddling is my favorite. But, as a male, I can't do it without thinking where else it might want to go. And I try to enjoy it as just the cuddling itself, but then my body betrays me and I get nervous. Not to be immodest or anything but, believe me, I'm nervous for a reason. I've got about two people who can testify to that. Then again, they might have been blowing smoke. Anyway, the point is, you would notice. And that carries with it all sorts of problems, doesn't it? "What if she feels it?" "What if she calls me a pervert and hates me forever?" And then, of course, the male mind creeps in. "Well...what if she likes it?" You want to listen to that voice. There's hope in that voice. There's heaven in that voice. But that voice gets the living snot beaten out of it by the doubt so you're just frozen like a deer in headlights and that's when you realize your entire body has gone so rigid that you’re cutting off the circulation to her spine.

    Thank you! Good night!