I don’t want to die; in fact the very idea that the world could
possibly go on without me is difficult for me to comprehend. Were I to
suddenly cease to exist, who would watch my T.V.? Who would annoy my
wife on a daily basis? Who would be able to tell the Greatest Dick
Jokes in the World?
I constantly speculate about the way I will eventually shuffle away my mortal coil.
I might be struck by lightning. No really. I’ve studied extensively
about it and whenever I’m outdoors when a rainstorm is approaching I
have the demeanor of a gazelle who has stopped at a watering hole for a
drink and thought she might have just heard a lion. I am wary and ready
to sprint at a moment’s notice.
I’m just a guy. A guy who occasionally does incredibly heroic things.
For it is because of my rampant heroism that two baby deer are safe
and well with their mother today. I rescued them single-handedly and
purely by instinct with absolutely no regard for my own safety.
Well, almost no regard for my safety.
My wife Becca and I were walking our dog yesterday when I happened
to look at a stonewall enclosure near our home. It’s a square
surrounded by a wall that is about five feet high and runs 40 feet by
40 feet.
I noticed an adult female deer that was clearly agitated as she
repeatedly jumped in and out of the enclosure. When I looked closer, I
noticed her two fawns who could not have been more than a week old.
They were both about the size of a housecat and were doing that
wobbly-legged, trying to learn how to walk thing. They clearly had no
chance of jumping over a five-foot rock wall.
I don’t think I have to tell you people that we’re all pretty much screwed.
From the looks of things, the economy is in the crapper, inflation is rampant and NBC has cancelled Bionic Woman.
We’re all going to Hell with or without the handbasket and everyone
seems to think that our welfare is hinging upon whoever wins the
presidential election in November while failing to realize that the
next president will be completely unable to effect a change to the fact
that we will soon be in even more dire economic straits.
Most of our current situation stems from the scarcity of cheap oil.
The demand for it is higher and the more efficient avenues to obtain it
are less available. When the cost of shipping and transport rises, so
rises the cost of the goods and people being transported.
Rather than look for someone or something to blame for our current
woes, I have decided to be more forward thinking. I’ve started thinking
about what I’m going to do as we rapidly approach what I like to call…
I just found out that Mother’s Day is this Sunday.
Normally I’m pretty mindful of these things, but despite the
constant barrage of television commercials that usually remind me of
things like this, it got away from me this year.
It’s probably too late to send flowers and I don’t know if I’ll be
able to drive the hour to her house on Sunday, so if the readers will
indulge me, I’d like to use this week’s column to pay tribute to her
and try to make up for being a crummy son this year.
My mother is a truly beautiful woman. She is also one of the most
intelligent people that I know. She has a warm heart, is kind to
strangers and makes every effort to make sure that the people that she
loves know how she feels about them.
Next Wednesday, my wife will turn 40. Therefore, Birthday Week
, will commence this Wednesday. She has somehow managed to
successfully argue that because of the gravity of her impending age,
this year’s birthday week should be extended to fourteen days.
Last week I was happy to be able to play my home club. It’s the club
here in Austin that I first started performing at and it meant that I
got to perform every night and then sleep in my own bed.
It also meant that I had to get up at 6 a.m. three days in a row to go do morning radio.
Morning radio is an essential duty for a working comedian. You do a
show the night before and strangers want to buy shots for you after the
show and you have to show up at the studio at the crack of dawn
smelling like booze and cigarettes, with stripper glitter on your face.
Ask yourself how awesome Keith Richards looks every time you see
footage of him on stage banging out a rollicking guitar solo, with a
Gauloise dangling from his pursed lips.
What would a picture of James Dean be without the iconic Marlboro hanging from between his fingers?
What image comes to mind when you think of Marlon Brando? Hopefully
the young actor from The Wild Ones with a biker helmet and an
ever-present smoke in his mouth and not the old, fat guy who wore
muumuus and ate cereal straight from the box.
It really is wonderful, or at least mine is. I have someone who is
there when I need for her to let me know that something I’ve said is
not as funny as I think it is, to pick me up when I’m down and to be my
best friend.
I’m usually there for her when she needs a jar opened.
Neither of us are the jealous type, however there are things that can
happen in a marriage that will annoy even the most easy-going and
tolerant of spouses.
Case in point: last weekend we were at a comedy club to watch a friend
of ours perform. The place was pretty crowded and there were no seats
available so we happily stood at the bar with our beers. We were both
watching the show so my wife was standing in front of me with her back
to me.
American humorist Will Rogers once said, “I am not a member of any organized political party. I am a Democrat.”
I was raised by my mother to be a good Democrat. I have been told, in
fact, that were I to ever vote for "those sons of bitches in the GOP,"
she would disown me. As such, my political leanings have always sided
with the Left.
Democrats in Texas don’t usually have much of a say in the presidential
election, much less during the primaries or the caucuses. Usually by
the time we go to the polls, the candidates have already been decided
by people in Iowa.
This year (for reasons I don’t fully understand), Texas is a crucial
state for the nomination process of the Democratic Party. Knowing this
filled a lot of us down here with piss, vinegar, and motivation.
My wife has a hard time turning a year older every year but I’m really
okay with it. I just feel like I’m sort of in this really vague area of
being in my Late Thirties. 37 really isn’t going to feel all that
different from 36 or 38, for that matter.
Of course there’s a big difference between 36 and 26. There are things
that were okay for me to do back then that just seem silly now.
When you’re 36 you’re supposed to have your Shit Together to a certain
degree. I have shit that is so not together that it refuses to be in
the same room at the same time. My shit won’t even return e-mails, much
less get together.
Keep yourself updated with our FREE newsletter. Latest articles, contests, reviews, comics, and more!
Quirkee Home Page
CNN is your home page? Boring! Make Quirkee.com your home page if you're using Internet Explorer. If you're using a different browser, read instructions on how to set Quirkee.com as your home page manually. Your browser will thank you for it.
Quirkee Voices 
I am obsessed with my own mortality.
From the looks of things, the economy is in the crapper, inflation is rampant and NBC has cancelled Bionic Woman.
American humorist Will Rogers once said, “I am not a member of any organized political party. I am a Democrat.”
