Dirty vs. Clean

“That’s why I’m not into Matthew McConaughey. He seems like the kind of dude that would play with a bunch of dogs and have sex with you without washing his hands.” -My Buddy Krista

He does kind of seem like that kind of dude. Is it wrong that picturing that filthy drum-circle-starting, shower-a-month, hippie playing with a bunch of wet basset hounds and St. Bernards, and jumping straight in the sack kind of turned me on? Is it? Is it really? Whatever. Tell me that you wouldn’t do it.

Tell me that if Matthew McConaughey said (imagine it with the accent), ” Hey guuurl. I think you’ve got, like, a really powerful aura. But I can only bone you if you’re free when I’m on my way home from the dog park,” that you wouldn’t say yes to that.

You totally would. Don’t front. Even with the accent? Sure you would. What if you were at gun point?

On the other hand, would you really want to bone an OCD, meticulously clean, creepishly bald, but still rocking a soul patch, too-close-to-looking-like-that-dude-Powder-from-the-movie-Powder kind of dude like Howie Mandel?

These are your only two choices and you must pick one. It’s the most even match up on the face of the planet.

Representing dirty stinky men: Matthew McConaughey

In Mr.Clean’s bald and spotless corner: Howie Mandel

Who are you going to pick?

Matthew McConaughey? That’s what I thought. I figured in that totally equal match up, that was not slanted in any way, that you would make the rational choice and choose the dirty man.

Okay, so maybe that’s not a fair match up. That’s kinda like matching sexy Robocop up against a chubby forensic psychologist and making them fight to the death. I give. I argued that dirty dudes were sexier last night and I wanted you to agree with me so that I could rub it in Krista’s face. I’ll just tell her that that’s what happened anyway.

So are you into dirty dudes? Or are you a clean man kind of chick?

 

 

 

A Morning of Meme

I’m pretty exhausted this morning having tied one on a few too many times already this week. Yep, I’ve also been working hard trying to make friends with the comedy school kids, doing drunken yoga, getting called a hoochie while fully dressed on the street at ten a.m., etc. So instead of trying to figure out what to do with this god forsaken, directionless, heedless, godless, blog today, I’m going to do what most comedy bloggers do to fuel their weekly posting, and I’m going to stuff your noggin full of god forsaken, useless, directionless, heedless, godless meme. Thank god for godless meme.

What is this meme, you ask? Well, maybe we should start at the beginning since you obviously have been residing under a stone somewhere in another solar system for the past forever. This here, gadgety thing, that your eyes are now permanently glued to, is a computer. A long, long time ago, someone (I think it was Al Gore) figured out how to tie all of the computers in the world together. Now we can look forward to living in a future that is a lot closer to the Matrix than the Jetsons. The end.

Oh wait, I forgot to explain what meme is… Well, the word meme has some cultural and scientific background that goes waaaay back. But really, these days, it’s just the sh*t we all send to each other. It’s the dumb crap that we email, tweet, post on facebook, and tell our friends that they have to see. It’s the way we pretend that we’re creative. “Did you see what I photoshopped on that Scumbag Steve meme? That sh*t’s legendary!!! LOLMFAOBTQ!”

If you still have no idea what I’m talking about, you’re proabably lucky. You don’t have meme loving friends. Congratulations. Either that, or you don’t have friends, in which case… bummer. But I’m here for you. I’m sharing some old meme, so you can be in the loop, even though this loop is super old.

Anywho, let’s take a walk down meme-ory lane. See what I did there?

Scumbag Steve

        

 

Y U NO… Guy

     
And my personal favorite… Philosoraptor

        
What’s your favorite meme?

The Beginning, Middle and End

Alligators So, I got out of my super hilarious first class in comedy last week with fresh eyes. Beware, free form comedy blog readers, the world of comedy is a structured world and you have to see it as such. Yep. It turns out, the comedy world isn’t all sh*ts and giggles. I mean, a lot of it is. There were a few people in my class who definitely already rate really high on the list of the funniest people I know. But I’m going to use this blog to do some comedy exercises. You can follow along in your book! Let’s learn funny stuff together.

One of the first thing we’re focusing on is that comedy pieces (even jokes) have to have a beginning, a middle and an end. It sounds simple, but I’m pretty guilty of the ramble (see my vegan recipe blog for proof), so putting this into practice takes a little work for me. Once you have the outline, you can fill it in with the funny stuff.

So let’s make up a quick story with two characters.

Characters: An alligator and a giraffe

Beginning: They wake up next to each other.

Middle: Alligator tries to figure out how he got ther.

End: They toss the covers over their heads and fool around again.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Alligator slapped at his alarm, but it wasn’t where he left it. He opened his eyes and realized that he wasn’t in his own room. His mouth tasted like gazelle jerky and dry elephant crap and his tiny brain twisted around in his noggin. “Did I get that drunk last night?” he thought. Alligator had, in fact, gotten very drunk last night. He rolled over and his paw hit a long furry tube. “What the eff is that?” he thought.

Giraffe snapped his head up like a whip at the end of his neck.

“Ooh! You scared me baby Al. How did you sleep?” asked Giraffe as he started giving baby Al a temple massage with his hoofs.

“I’m not gay. How did I get here?” asked Alligator.

“Of course you aren’t, Ally. You’re a CIA agent. I picked you up at a gay bar,” said Giraffe.

“Oh, that makes sense. Now come here and give me a piece of that disproportionate ass of yours,” said Alligator.

Alligator closed the blinds while giraffe pulled the covers over their heads. And the two began to engage in homosexual inter-species sex.

The end.

Now that was a crappy story. I’m not really feeling it today. But you get the point. Use the beginning middle and end and see what you can come up with.

Do you have a quick beginning middle and end story or exercise that you’d like to share?

 

 

 

The Star Trek Ensemble

I did the research for this post weeks ago. That’s right. I research for this free form comedy blog. That’s what makes it so hilarious.

I completely forgot about these videos until I went into the history of my youtube account. I was curious to see what kind person I am based on my recent mix of internet videos. What I found was unsettling: a creepy amount of Jason Sudeikis interviews, the Rebecca Black ‘Friday’ video (yeah, I’m still watching Rebekka), chakra chanting, Bon Iver, Shit Girls Say, and these little beauties. Now that you all know I’m a 14 year old, sad-shamanic-Sudeikis-stalker inside, I can also admit that for one day I was obsessed with watching the main characters from Star Trek sing ridiculous sh*t.

I’m not sure what planted the seed, but I saw a video of Leonard Nemoy singing this awesome song about Bilbo Baggins. Leonard Nemoy + Lord of the Rings+ catchy tune= Trifecta of awesome!

I don’t know how you feel about sexy old men, but I’m pretty sure Leonard Nemoy is the sexiest older man alive. What I wouldn’t give to quickly sway with our foreheads pressed together (if you didn’t watch the video, that probably sounds pretty gross). Now, onto Shatner!

Seriously, Bill Shatner’s interpretation of this song is amazing. But now we’re going to pass the baton over to George Takei, the notoriously homosexual cast member of Star Trek. This song is extremely holiday spirited, beautifully sung, and most definitely NSFW…

It’s a little late, but Happy Holidays! Here’s to 2012 being the most hilarious year yet!

A Christmas Letter From Your Drunk Aunt

Dear Niecey Piecy,

I love you! I love you. More differently, I like you. This is surprising because I think your mom is crazy, and a f*ckin’ know it all (squeeze my french), and she can drink booze in her coffee all morning, but you know, I just want another glass of wine at dinner and she all gives me that blank stare like, “Kathy. You’re an alcoholic.” She didn’t say it, but we all saw it, right? She said it with her eyes.

And I’m like, “What? Can someone say Kahlua at 6 a.m, Terry? 6 a.m. And don’t give me that ‘it’s the holidays’ shit. 6 a.m. is six a.m. is sex a.m. in other languages.” But at least I had the balls to say it out loud. I’m not going to hide behind my eyeballs. Some sh*t just needs to be said.

I love you and I want to share somethings with you that you should know. One. Everyone should be gin. It’s gin, it’s gin it’s gin gin gin. Have you met my friend gin? I’ll let you try some. I’ll walk by the kids table and I’ll pretend I’m going to get you some more water. And I’m going to give you gin. So don’t share it with your little cousins. One time, I accidently got Petey drunk and Dan told me he was ganna call the parent police. And I was like, “Damn it, Dan. He’s my son. Just leave it! Leave it!” And he didn’t say anything after that, because I showed him that I wasn’t ganna be a push over like Terry.

And another thing that you should know is that those tits aren’t going to pay for college. Well, they will, but your ma is such a biotch. She’d be a judgment factory if you used em, and shook em like your money maker for money. So apply for scholarships for women. Cause you have to go to college. Look what happen to your Terry biotch mom. She’s like not gone to college and she doesn’t know how to open the newspaper without breaking her hands off.  So, go to college. Go to school. Be good. Be good at school and at college. And remember, when I give you that glass, that’s going to have gin in it. So don’t tell your mom and don’t give it to Petey, otherwise the shit’s going to hit the space heater. Okay okay okay. I love you i love you i love you.

Merry Christmas,

Aunt Kathy

 

p.s. IOU Christmas present. Take the gin as down payment :) lol hahalsdfkoalool

 

Second City, First Funny

Dudes! I got accepted to The Second City comedy school in Chicago today! I know what you’re thinking “Of course you did Corinne. You’re a crazy funny gal with awesome jokes who is also prettier than everyone in the world who can kill a bear with your own hands.”

I know. It was a long and trying road. But I finally got accepted. It was a huge accomplishment for me. What was the application process like, you ask? Oh. You know. A little of this. Little of that. They had to make sure that I was as funny as Tina Fey, Amy Pohler, Bill Murray, Dan Akroyd and other miscellaneous funny people. Thank goodness for me, I am.

By accepted, I mean I typed in my name and address online and they accepted my $300. So, while it may not be an accomplishment, it’s something to look forward to. That’s right… In three months, I will be three hundred dollars funnier.

Maybe that will help me figure out what the eff to do with this blog. I mean, really, it could use some direction. Looking through it is depressing. I remember thinking all of that shiz was funny at the time. Mainly it’s just rambly and weird. It sounds like I’m trying to be funny while applying for weird scholarships. I wanted this to be an original comedy blog, but I may have to switch over to a found funny kind of format.

Right now, it’s 4:21 am and I’m paying for some hardcore traveling, jetlag, and a little bit of poor time management. I’m slaving away to finish off my last week and everyone else is a few hours away from starting theirs. Oh man, is this a blog where I’m supposed to bitch about my life? Great! I accomplished that too.

Okay. Sorry if you didn’t laugh at this post. My bad. I’m so tired. I’m going to go to bed now, and when I wake up, I’m going to be Mike Meyers. That’s included in the registration fee.

The Buffalo

buffalo

Hostels are wonderful and silly places. Right now, I’m staying at Luna’s Castle in Panama City and it seems like in these hippie hostels, you can always find someone who’s ready to do something with you. They’ll cleanse your aura by feeding you raw pig penis and burning sage around you, palm roll your crusty dreadlocks, pumice the bottom of your dirty barefoot loving feet, or help you get your work done. Yes… even that last, super gross one.

Yesterday, I was telling some fellas about this whole blogging thing and how I didn’t wanna. I was whining and throwing a sleepy, dirty fit. Those dudes were so nice that we ended up writing this post together. Which means that I technically outsourced 2/3 of this post. Go USA!

So without further ado, here’s a story to end all stories about buffaloes, written by the three of us using a technique known to professional writers as That Game You Played In Middle School Where One Person Says a Word and Then The Next Person Says Another Word and So On and Everybody Giggles When Someone Says Penis. So without further ado (because there was totally some further ado the last time I said that) I’d like to proudly present:

 

The Buffalo
With Shael Kerbel and Connor Casey

In the city of love, I once found a puppy that was really furry and very cute. I wanted nothing more than to go hunting for a puppy. I went to the rainforest where I came across a buffalo. Upon entering the buffalo, I felt pleasantly surprised and fatigued. I decided that I never would do a buffalo until I fucked a antelope. However, I felt the buffalo would give me something to take away. Then the weather turned scary. So I ran across the open valley of the rainforest. Quesitos are a cheese snack from Panama. They have a distinct texture and lure many Gato Solos. I never thought that I could bone a buffalo until I ate some tender Quesitos.

When I travel I discover that my sense of direction becomes extremely heigtened. When I walk fast and talk slow, I always fall in the lake. This causes me much pain. However, when I walk slow and talk quickly, I find that it helps me to fly like an Dragon and fuck like a buffalo.

Once last summer I ran to several townships so I tried to fuck three tattoo artists. They intreagued my penis by talking to it. I realized that they wanted to eat my big throbbing pinky and my enormous cucumber penis. After many times, I came into my own buffalo. I couldn’t look at myself. I realized pondering that I might turn into a terrible animal. Which animal would I be? I continued to persue the buffalo species. Not the city. Just the moment before I entered NOT. The reason my dragon flies is only because it loves to eat the buffalo species. Not the shithole of antelope.

the end

Right? I mean, right?! I think there will be more of these in the future. What do you think? Is this like an inside joke, or do you get it?

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What’s In a Name?

What’s in a name? What’s in a name? Friggin’ everything shitty in life. Names suck. Every time I sit down and try to think of a post for this blog, I think, “Shit. Really? I named this thing Ridiculously Hilarious? Not just Hilarious, or even Mildly Funny?” The most apt title would probably be ‘Sometimes Slightly Smirkworthy‘. Hey! I like that alliteration. It’s snappy!
But is it too late? Considering the fact that I’ve had about three hits to this blog, I’d bet that it’s not too late. But then the first post wouldn’t make sense and it’s Thanksgiving week and holidays and… mumble… mumble… generic statement about being busy this time of year…
I’m not here to self deprecate because when I do that, I have to do 20 extra affirmations in the morning. “10. I am a super funny bitch. 9. I am a super funny bitch. 8. I am a super bunny fitch. F**k! Now I have to go back to the beginning! Ready. 120. I am a super funny bitch. 119. I am a super f**k this. I’m going to watch Saturday Night Live and cry into a bowl of ice cream.”
And that’s my Monday morning, folks! You can stay the night on Sundays if you want to witness it in action (the easiest way to make this request is to contact me on okaycupid… my handle is tootsforscoots. What? I really like it when people honk at me when I’m riding around on my scooter. Ok, I realize it sounds like it has something to do with farting and pooping. I get a lot of descriptive messages to that effect from sexy people with names like DaddySaysDont. I’ve never had an inbox that was so full of the phrase “rubber tarp”).
Look at that. That was another unintentional example of names sucking a**. But, like I said I’m not here to self-deprecate… That’s because this is someone else’s fault. We should get those 99% folks on this, and pronto. Imunna make a sign that says, “F**k you fat cat, Wall Street, corporate stooge, big business, fed, system, capitalism, democracy, nation, universe, black matter, big bang, evolution, religion, Penn and Teller.” Seriously, f**k you Penn and Teller. And f**k you profit colleges. Not you, University of Phoenix. I love you.
Oh yay! I get to the end of this post and finally something hilarious happens.
Text from JK: “No idea what happened, but all of a sudden all of the “people to subscribe to” people on my fb are huge hairy gay porn stars.”
And then a minute later…
“Interesting fact… it seems that a lot of gay male porn stars are libertarians…”

You two make so much sense now…

Is the universe awesome, or what? If you missed it, allow me to explain. I typed “f**k Penn and Teller” because it is obviously their fault that this blog name sucks. Not a minute later, my buddy sent me a text about gay porn stars being libertarians. Penn and Teller are famously libertarian. It’s like… woah.
That’s some gay porn libertarian magician serendipity, if you ask me.
Thanks JK… I’m sure you’ll be voting for Ron Paul now.

Occupy Protests: Not As Funny or Sexy or You’d Think

When I launched this blog, I really thought I would have lots of funny things to talk about that are going on right now. I mean, there’s so much going on in this world. Parez Hilton and John Stewart find tons of crap to make fun of every single day and they’ve been at this commentary stuff for years.
Well, we’re two weeks in and I just realized that I don’t watch 24 hour news networks or read US Weekly. As a matter of fact, I don’t leave my house or watch TV at all. Why? I’m boycotting Lifetime Movie Network for their poor interpretation of my story in Stranger in my Bed. I only stabbed him six times. Six.
Plus, I’m super busy taking online classes in stand up comedy… I have stage fright.
So, I don’t know sh*t about what’s going on in the world. I figured that I needed to get with it, and fast. Then I heard about this gathering of a bunch of hippies sleeping in tents and having sex with each other. Now, that’s what I’m talking about, world!
So, I went up to an Occupy rally in Chicago hoping to catch some ridiculously hilarious signs and report back to you, but those people seemed pretty serious. They kept saying stuff about worrying about their children’s futures and government cuts and unions and other political things. What’s worse? I didn’t get to have sex in an urban campground. Not even once.
There was one guy who had a pretty hilarious demonstration technique.  He had a huge puppet and a sign that said “Occupy Sesame Street.” Here’s a blurry picture of the back that dude.

The puppet didn’t even ask to have sex with me. WTF?

I’m calling that picture “Journalism at its Finest” or maybe, “Corinne Tobias: Photojournalist Master.” The puppet probably could have done better and he doesn’t have thumbs or operational eyes. I think they were buttons.
To make matters worse, there were no hippies at all. It was a bunch of different people just trying to make a difference in their world. How am I supposed to make fun of that?
Anywho, have you had any hilarious experiences at an Occupy rally? Do tell!

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Make Your Own Pop Up Video… Some Other Advice: Don’t

Do you remember VH1′s Pop Up Video? Yeah, I vaguely do too. I don’t remember thinking that they were funny when I was a child, but I caught one a few months back and it was pretty hilarious. There’s nothing like making fun of cheesy and over the top music videos from the 90′s.
“But what about today’s shitty hits?!” you wail.
Calm down, dude. The people have spoken (i.e. they  forgot about Pop Up Video) and VH1 responded. Now, thanks to some progressive technological advances, you can make your very own Pop Up Video. Thank goodness! I’m so glad that someone took the time to do this instead of finding a cure for AIDS. We still can’t access our own medical records or see where the eff our tax dollars are going (what happened to that transparency thing, Obama?), but hey, at least we can make fun of music videos!
I tried to make my own pop up video, not once, but twice. It was way harder, super lame and not nearly as addicting as I thought it would be. I spent about a half an hour making one and then it disappeared for no good reason. It was probably better that way. Maybe VH1 has a committee for that sort of things and if your jokes blow, they just make it vanish in front of your eyes. I’m not kidding, the jokes were god awful and it would have pained you to watch it. Since I truly care about my readership so much (that’s you! I care about you!) I tried to make another one. I gave it another go, this time with an Alanis Morisette video. It was perfect since I’ve spent the past month amassing post-break-up jokes.
It was ridiculously hilarious. And I’m not just saying that because it doesn’t exist anymore (yes, I am). Anyway, it was great and when I went to share it with you fine folks, it vanished as well.
Now, I’m off to write a nasty letter to VH1/make another pop up video. Maybe it’s more addicting than I let on.
*ZOMG! I just found out that this show is still on… And it’s notably lame. This 3oh!3 video was probably the least interesting thing on the face of the planet, aside from JLo’s love life. Pop up: These models got rug burn from humping that stuffed buffalo. (Snore) Pop up: One of them is an administrative assistant. (ZZZZZ…. ) Pop up: These guys went to college. (Wait! Really?! We’re talking public school, right?)

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