Bloggy McBlog Blog

New York, NY — I was sitting at my desk, piled high with research materials, telegrams from well wishers and supeneas, eating my favorite lunch, pizza con le pizze piccole in cima esso, the speciality of a newly opened pizzeria owned by a man from Delaware, when I realized a fundamental literary truth. Jokes with monkeys in them are just funnier than jokes with birds, especially pigeons. Jokes with elephants are good too. Bears and rabbits are good, but only together. Dogs are funny if they can talk. Horses aren’t funny. I made a chart. Someday I will show this chart to other people and it will REVOLUTIONIZE COMEDY THE WAY I HAVE REVOLUTIONIZED THE INTERNETS. People will know what kinds of animals to put in their jokes. They will not make the sort of mistakes they have made in the past. Allow me to illustrate my point.

Joke #1: How can you tell if there have been elephants in your refrigerator? Their footprints in the butter.
Joke #2: How can you tell if there have been rats in your refrigerator? Their footprints in the butter.

You see the difference? The first is an amusing joke you could share with a good friend over a grape soda or a cognac after dinner, chortle for a few moments together and then go back to your hum drum lives a little happier, the load on your metaphorical shoulders a little lighter. The second is just a horrible thing that sometimes actually happens.
Rats aren’t funny. Not normal rats. Damp rats are even less funny. But damp radioactive rats can be funny, but only in movies. For instance it would be funny to have a pretty young girl being chased through a sewer by a pack of damp radioactive rats. One of them leaps and tears her shirt off. She runs up some stairs and burst through a door and she’s running through a soup kitchen full of drunken homeless men and nuns with her woman parts bouncing up and down, followed by hundreds of damp radioactive rats. The nuns scream and run, the homeless men, most of whom are played in the movie by former child actors from TV, assume the rats are just hallucinations brought on by drinking Sterno mixed with Pinesol and Diet Sierra Mist. They shrug off advancing wall of wet rodents, ignoring the frantic buzzing of a geiger counter left behind by the mother superior. Then they rats are upon them, rending their flesh and giving them cancer all at once. But there is this pretty girl jiggling around half naked, so everyone laughs.
Steve Martin once said that comedy was the art of making people laugh without making them… something.. something… He was probably right.
People talk about comedy a lot. More than they should really.

New York, NY — The incredible pressure of my position in the internets is starting to get to me again. Even with my hiatus I am already exhausted. Blogging is not for the weak. It is not something that CAN BE DONE BY PEOPLE WHO ARE NOT STRONG. It is the most demanding job a person can have working ABOVE THE GROUND. Being a salt miner may be worse physically, I’m not sure. But think of the solitude and the time to reflect you would have thousands of feet below the Earth’s surface gathering salt ore to be taken to the salt refinery by a trained donkey who has long ago lost his site, so that he can only find his way through that one dark dark mine that he is used to, so when the mine is all used up, all the salt is gone from it, they have to KILL THE POOR DONKEY. It is really very sad. But you would have all the time in the world to think about the fate of the donkey if you were a miner down there, with your headlight on your hard headhat. Your pick jauntily thrown over one shoulder. It’s too loud to talk to anyone, with all the jack hammers and the donkey’s braying and they stumble around in their blindness. You would just think and ponder. Do donkey’s have souls? You would ask yourself.
But I HAVE NO TIME FOR PONDERING. I can think about the fate of the poor poor donkey, though I am not a cruel person. I must continue blogging. There is not time to stop. Bloggers can never stop. They can never slow down. The world needs them. And I more than most, since I am the KING OF THE BLOGGERS.

New York, NY — I have found that of all the things in the world that annoy me, people are most of them.

New York, NY — I am on hold. They are going to return to take my call shortly. My call is important to them. I don’t have a problem with any of these things. People complain all the time about being put on hold. But what do they expect? They think there will be someone at the place they are calling just sitting there waiting IN CASE THEY CALL? The company would have to have one phone operator for each person who might call. That could mean having millions of people waiting for calls, all day and all night. CALLS THAT NEVER COME. How sad would the lone person at Microsoft who is supposed to answer calls from me be? I never call them. I have no reason to call them. But that poor person sits there, day in and day out, waiting for me to call. Perhaps he or she has a picture of me in their cubicle.
Think also of the person at the phone company and the one at FedEx, all of them waiting for me to call. Perhaps they would form a little club, where they would trade pictures of me an little facts and tidbits about my life.
“Did you know that when he was a boy he had a shirt with Grover from Sesame Street on it?” One would say to another one at one of their Thursday evening meetings.
“No, I did not,” the other one would answer, looking dreamily at a picture of me on my tricycle wearing said shirt. “It is a fine shirt that he had. I wish he needed to wash that shirt and his washing machine was broken so he would call me and ask about getting it repaired!” Tears would roll down this person’s face, “No! I didn’t mean it,” they would say. “I don’t want any sort of bad things to happen to him. I want his washing machine to always be working perfectly, but if only he would have a question about it, about what kind of detergent to use or whether it can be stacked with a dryer. Anything, anything at all…” And they would sob quietly to themselves. The other people at the meeting would pat them on the back and give sympathy.
So much sadness these people would have.
The only sensible thing would be for all these companies to get together and hire just a single person to answer my questions on all the different products and services that they offer. That one person could wait quietly for my call, AND I WOULD CALL. Not very often perhaps, but every couple of weeks. And they would be able to offer me quite a high level of service because they would get to know me and spend their down time learning all about me. “I see that you like Irish Folk Music, but not about political or religious conflict, I will play some for you while I put you on hold…”
Such a system would be almost perfect.

New York, NY — Here are a few things I have learned over the last few weeks. 1) If you are sentenced to 30 days in jail, that can be MORE THAN A MONTH if that month is February. 2) We have all heard about “time off for good behavior.” Apparently there is a corollary rule where they can ADD time. 3) Just because an undercover police car looks like a taxi, doesn’t mean they have to take you anywhere if they don’t want to.