So a friend told me to try stand-up to relieve the tension of my recent issues. This is me working on three minutes of material.

Standard

So anybody here drunk yet? *wait for positive response*  Great, I’m not alone! No, seriously, it took me three Xanax and a double shot of Bourbon to get me up here tonight. *pause* I’m on the Real House Wive’s diet. *another pause, this time with a mock serious expression* No… No. actually, it’s because… I have a confession to make. I’m absolutely terrified of microphones. No, it’s serious, phobia level, even. Which makes no sense to me at all, because normally I have no problem putting my mouth up to a phallic object. *hope for laughter* Speaking of phallic objects. Anyone have a trans-vaginal ultrasound recently? Anyone? … Anyone? How about a show of hands… No? How bout you just make that face that you make when it goes in, you know the one that looks like a cross between Popeye and the “lemon” face? *make the face* (make popeye laugh at the end of the expression). Well any way, I have to say… They really set a girl up for disappointment when you go in for that exam. I mean, the condom they pull out to go over this thing… It’d give a a Trojan Magnum a complex. It looks like it was designed as a Barnyard prophylactic, if you know what I mean *make measuring hand gesture*. Then they pull out  the wand. *make thin, tubular gesture, followed by “Meep” sound* That’s what they call it, a “wand”. And I’m like “If that thing’s so magic, why don’t we skip the insertion part and you just “Wingardium Leviosa” The information outta there?” *dead-pan* No-go. So ANY-way, They go to put the “condom” on the “wand”, and I’m pretty sure it shrank a few more centemeters in fear of this cavernous balloon they’re shoving it into. And I… I started feeling sorry for the poor thing… And then… They lubricate it. With this… Blue jelly that I’m pretty sure was rejected for the part of “Ooz” from Ghostbuster’s II on account of appearing too menacing. And then the Sonographer asks me if I want to insert it myself. “Do I Want to insert it myself?”.*dead-pan* Oh NO, I’d rather have a complete stranger shove what equates to a micro-dildo wrapped in a slime covered trash-bag  up my lady bits. That would be MUCH more comfortable. *another dead-pan* So, I’m inserting this thing, watching the image come into focus on the screen and I come to the realization… that my uterus is shaped almost exactly like E-T’s face. Which is kinda funny, because the “wand” is kind of shaped like his finger. So now all I have in my head is the scene where E-T pokes Elliot & says “OUCH”. Which just about sums up the whole experience. And I’m here to tell you, I’m not a victim of republican legislature folks, I wasn’t trying to get an abortion. No, I was getting the procedure done for a legitimate medical reason. I have Endometriosis. Which is pretty much like being on your period ALL the time… So… The next time someone calls me a bitch… I think I’m going to say “I prefer the term Bleeding Cunt”. It’s more accurate. *Bow* Thank you, you’ve been wonderful, don’t forget to tip your wait-staff.

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About Keats

Oh I'm sassy and I'm sexy, So silly sweet-and-sour Delightfully disastrous And deliciously dour I'm flippantly foolish, Filled I am with fear Can't concentrate completely, and my conduct isn't clear But to bravely be my best I Bring bravado back, BEHOLD!

10 responses »

  1. Laughter is the best medicine and all that. I don’t think I’m ever going to look at E.T. the same way again, though. Loveable scamp, my rear.

    And side note: picturing you having a phobia against just about anything, especially those involving speech, communication, and drama, seems utterly, ludicrously silly to me. Dr. Seuss level of non-belief here. 😛 You remain, however, a distinctly silly girl. Hope this exercise helped.

    • Microphones actually DO terrify me. it’s why I do Karaoke, you know, exposure therapy. But the exercise DID help, and I might actually want to perform it, because the physical humour is lost without performance.

      • Fair enough. And watching you gesture/act through half these things would always come across as much funnier than a mere reading. Furthermore, Kila, reading it right now, I’M NOT DRUNK, whereas in a bar I likely would be, and therefore, I should have to be that difficult fellow that rejects your opening premise of a positive reaction. For I am not drunk, and therefore, as all the rest is based upon a positive note of drunkenness, I should not in good conscience be able to press forward.

        Karaoke, though…a drunken gift to all. As to the microphone, well…as they say, just close your eyes, open your mouth, and go!

      • lol, I’m not drunk right now, either… But IF I perform this, I’ll prolly be telling the truth about being at least mildly inebriated to do it.

      • I have to get an actual stand-up comic watch it tell me what he thinks, first. I’m not going out on a stage without the approval of someone I know to be funny on a stage.

      • When sniffing out the funny, go to the source. Never hurts, certainly. That, or the opposite, and get the most stone-faced, straight-edged MOFO you ever did see, and if you can make him wet his eyes with laughter, you will know that you have won.

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