I’ve decided to hate anyone under the age of 9, because young people have a tendency to pin-point one’s insecurities, then, when given the chance, either vocalize them in a room full of attractive women, or post them on Twitter.
Last week, I went to my parent’s house for a party. When I arrived, my four year-old cousin ran up to me, and said, “HEY BALD COUSIN! WHAT’S UP?!”
I was shocked and confused. How do you know I’m balding? You can’t even see the top of my head from down there. I fought the urge to say something sarcastic, or to punch her square in the neck, and instead, smiled and walked along.
And that’s the thing about kids. They say mean things, but since they’re kids, you can’t fire back. For example, it would’ve been inappropriate to respond, “Nothing much – just thinking about how amazing it is that you’re so happy and joyful despite looking like a microwaved Twinkie.”
When you’re around a child, you are put at a disadvantage. In the verbal warfare that occurs between humans, you can’t fight back when a kid is on the other end. Children are highly impressionable, and a mean-spirited comment can do very harmful things to a child’s self-esteem. Though I always want to, I know I shouldn’t. And to this day, I vow to never, no matter what, never ever say something mean back to a kid.
But I would delete the latest episode of Dora the Explorer from the DVR. I would do that. I did do that.
And it turns out it was my mom. She told her I was balding.
Tomorrow night is the first of 4 Friday nights of improv, stand-up and sketch comedy. All shows will be at the Odd Duck Studio, Friday nights at 10:30pm.
With special guests Tony Beeman, Michael Bils, Brandon Felker, and Tim Tracey.
And featuring improv by The Room, stand-up by John Mckay and Darius Emadi, and sketch comedy by Killer Donut.
For advanced tickets, click here or call (206)679-3271.
For directions to the Odd Duck, click here.
This upcoming Thursday, April 22nd, is the last night of Army Men (and also, the last night of Loose Cannon) at the Market Theater. Come on down, and come on time to see me open up for Army Men in the improvised buddy film, Loose Cannon III.
Thursday, April 22nd
8:30pm @ the Market Theater
For advanced tickets, click here.
Visit Unexpected Productions for more info.
For a while now, friends, co-workers, and successful individuals have sought my relationship advice. I’m unsure why, considering I never got a girl until last Tuesday. But regardless, I’ve decided, as a public service announcement, to share my wisdom with you, my lonely, downtrodden audience, in the hopes of healing every single broken and bruised heart in the world with a blog post. Here’s a little number from the fans.
My girlfriend and I are in what some might call an “interracial relationship”. We love each other dearly, but last week, while having sex, she started saying some very racist things. Though I did ask her to talk dirty to me, I didn’t expect her to ask me to do her nails. I’m Vietnamese.
What should I do?
Don’t worry. That’s kind of funny.
In a desperate attempt to use my Creative Writing degree for monetary gain, I’ve decided to write a smutty romance novel / memoir. Before Penguin Press or Random House get their paws on it, I’m going to leak some excerpts on this blog.
The two entered his darkened apartment, knowing that ahead of them was a passionate night of sex, or, at least, a rubbing of each others bikini areas. They looked into the others eyes as she sensually leaned against the door. Her bosom, smaller than he desired, stood forward, stretching the fabric of her shirt. Slowly, he approached her, ready to punch her in the mouth with his lips.
Pressing their bodies, she placed her palm against the crotch of his jeans. “Wilfred, I’ve been a bad girl,” she said.
“Really? What did you do?” he replied.
Her kisses spread across his neck, while she unbuckled his pants. The alcohol she drank made her more daring, and the lactose he had made him more gaseous. Unable to contain his flatulence, he tried to sneak out a small ounce of relief.
“What was that?” she asked.
“The door, probably.”
“Are you sure? That didn’t sound like the door,” she replied.
“Yeah, sometimes the door farts,” he said. “Wierd, huh? It’s an old building.”
Current workout song:
As a Padua, it is normal for me to reach my mid-twenties, and gain the weight of an old TV. It’s in our genetics – we live healthy and exciting lives in our first 20 years, then spend the rest of our time with Hot Cheetos watching Myth Busters. Considering that my mid-twenties are fast approaching, I’ve decided to combat my substantial weight gain with exercise, healthy eating, and a journal to make it all public information.
In the last year, my weight has increased about 10 lbs. My pants are a little tighter, my shits are less frequent, and a pouch of fat has developed right above my groin. The first thing I’m going to tackle is my bowel movements. I used to poop about 2x times a day, which Oprah said was healthy, but these days, I’m lucky if I get one.
I’m not a health food expert, but I think this means I need more fiber in my diet, or a laxative. IHOP always makes me shit – maybe I should eat there.
Current weight: 164.2 lbs.