Posted: Dec 18, 2003 8:58 pm
here's a genius stand-up routine for ya that was in the noo yawker this week: ca't really improve on cancer or assassination jokes...
I KILLED THEM IN NEW HAVEN
by LARRY DOYLE
Issue of 2003-12-15
How you all doing tonight? Itís great to be here at the Loco Lobo, assuming this is Tuesday. You know, Iím a little loco. Kinda crazy, zany guy. Youíre looking at one kooky dude. Wacky, nutty, unbalanced, disturbed, incompetent to stand trial: Iíve been called all those things.
Anyone here from Chicago? Iím from Chicago. You, siróyouíre from Chicago? Youíre not me, are you?
I have a lot of weird thoughts. You ever wonder why, for example, seven times eight is fifty-six? What genius decided that one? I donít remember voting. Or where socks go when they disappear from dryers? Is it the Pentagon? I think you know it is.
Anybody else here watch TV? Me, I watch a lot of TV. A lot of TV. Because, you know, when youíre not watching it, it can watch you. So I watch TV pretty much all the time. Have you seen this ďGilliganís IslandĒ? Seven stranded castaways in a desert-island paradise? What is up with that? All I know is if I was Gilligan and it was my island Iíd sure as shit be fucking that Ginger. Am I right? And Mary Ann. And the rest. Iíd be lying naked in my hammock with those two gals and Mrs. Howell and the Professor, and drinking sweet, sweet coconut juice out of the Skipperís skull. Am I right?
Hey, remember that lady whoíd fallen and couldnít get up? Iíve fallen and I canít get up. Iíve fallen and I canít get up. You know why she canít get up, donít you? Because they control the gravity and she found out.
You can bet Iíd be having sex with her, too.
Travel a lot in this job. Gotta keep moving, or you get pulled into the earth by trolls. What is their problem?
So I fly a lot, on planes mostly. Airline food: now, what demented individual came up with this item? I mean, who eats chicken? What if the chickens found out? They would not be happy.
Canít get a decent knife on an airplane anymore. Itís all plastic now. Like, what? Iím going to stab and stab and stab the passenger sitting next to me? And how do they know what youíre thinking? Hereís a hint: donít eat the peanuts.
Theyíve got a lot of crazy laws in this country. Screwy laws. Like in Tennessee itís illegal to stand in the middle of the street, even if youíve been instructed to do so. And in Maine itís against the law to spit on babies. Pretty babies, ugly babies, it doesnít matter. Crazy. Theyíll arrest you for anything.
Am I the only one here planning on shooting the President? Show of hands: whoís with me?
Thatís right, best keep it to yourself. They can trace your e-mails now, using DNA that the keys on the keyboard extract from your fingertips. I canít believe I invented that technology and then they go and use it against me. Totally nuts.
Iím going to cry for a little bit now. Could we turn off the mike and take the lights down?
Great. Iím done! How are those margaritas treating you? Strange name, margarita. Means ďlittle Margaret.Ē The funny thing is, she tastes nothing like that. Itís just insane. Can I have a sip of yours? Thanks. Delicious. I hope you donít mind; I have every kind of cancer. Including a couple of new ones the N.I.H. just disseminated.
Iím a little neurotic when it comes to food. I wonít eat anything orange. The color doesnít actually exist, which should be a tipoff. I also wonít eat possum, because you can never tell if itís really dead. And when I kill and eat my enemies, who are legion, I forgo the eyeballs, because I donít want them checking out my insides and reporting back to you know who.
Well, that flashing light means that either Jesus has come for me as promised or my time is up. So, good night! And donít forget to tip your waitresses, especially that one over there: sheís in love with me.