Find Your Joy Schtick

Before they found their schtick, Don Rickles was polite, Lenny Bruce didn’t curse, and Gallagher used a melon-baller.

gallagher

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Succotash sounds like a Native American word for “heap of puke we got white man to eat”.

Succotash

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Rock me like a Hurricane?  No thanks, but we could use some rain.

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If you go through an emotional war, and after the dust settles, you can still feel love, you have won. Also, you need to dust.

dusty furniture w wash me message

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A new study proves that smelling one’s own farts throughout the day will prevent cancer.  Which is ideal, since no doctor will ever come near you again with that stankly butt.

farting public

 

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Gray Tiger Cats

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Underneath the Dream

As I sat in my living room, newly populated with my mom’s baby grand piano and leather furniture, I felt more grown-up. That did not last long.

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I suddenly found myself lying on the floor, underneath the piano, as I frequently did in childhood. Gazing up, I’m not sure what I expected to see, but I’m glad it wasn’t any of these things:

1. Chewing gum
2. Duct tape
3. Graffiti (what would it say? “Luciano Pavarotti can hit high C but has low T”)
4. Birds nesting
5. “Your Ad Here”

You might say, I kind of saw stars.

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Living Libretto

If ignorance is bliss, I’m going to have to un-learn a few things to be happy.

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My son saw me do a quick prayer and visualization in the car after a stressful driving incident.  He helpfully offered, “I just farted into your white light.”

I said, “The white light is immune to your farts.  Otherwise we’d have died long ago.”

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“Shut up and comb your breasts”: what a cranky mother might say to her transgender son.

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I’m glad I’m a writer, because writers get things done!  And now I must finish painting the bathroom.

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What is your emotional age if you find it funny when someone butt-dials you for “Face Time”?

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Instead of pictures of my new tattoo, each week I will showcase a different varicose vein.  (I also currently have a black and blue mark that looks like Jesus.)

bruise of jesus

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Me, yelling at the neighbor’s dog:  “Would you shut the fuck up!  I’m going to sell you to a Chinese restaurant for next to nothing.  You’ll make a nice Poopoo platter.  I can see you’ve already been making those in your back yard.”

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A guy with two bars walks into a gas station.

gas gauge

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Famous narrator at home, observing wife in bathroom:  “She chooses the green plastic disposable shavers.  She opens the bag, she removes the topmost shaver.  She shaves every other week, but really should do it a little more frequently.”

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Don’t put off today what you need to do today because the coupon expires.

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Good looks are all about genetics and access to fresh fruit.

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Ann Coulter muppet meme

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Nasty Senior Citizen Subtweets

Old_Yeller @yellholes                            4/15/14
Stop lying to the IRS
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Madge @wigs4us                                       8/12/13
No one enjoys wrinkled cleavage
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Fishwife @tasteslikefish                       11/20/13
U could eat an apple through a picket fence with those dentures
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Gladys_B @masterknitter                     5/31/14
I saw what she did after the AARP meeting
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Beatrice_Pudenda @eurotrashed    10/12/13
So pathetic to not remember what country you’re from
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Dick_Cheney @biggestDickever        11/24/13
Stop staring at my balls.
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The Girdle Filler @wideloads             9/10/13
Those red slacks make your ass look fat
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Shuffleboard_King @slipmydiscs      11/2/13
His mortgage wants to reverse him
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Handy_Gary @oldplumbing                 6/23/14
Sorry, madam, but you’re no GILF
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Mildred39 @ilove2dust                          3/27/14
Please shave your ears
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Just_Jack_Kevorkian @reaper       12/31/13
You’re next

gaming granny

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iBlurbed & other taboo tattoos

Love is never having to tell that special someone to stop fucking around.

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When it comes to addiction, four hits is the new three.

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I keep hearing folks on TV say “look at the metrics” and “look at the optics” and oh, would they just go fuck themselves.

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There definitely is something to “Hillary fatigue”.  I can see it all over Hillary Clinton’s face.

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God in private:  “I hate sharks.  I think they’re ugly.  I’ll keep them around because they’re an important part of the ecosystem, and also ‘Shark Week’ makes so many people happy.  How can I rain on that parade?”

Poor ugly sharks can't [sniff] the rain

Poor ugly sharks can’t [sniff] feel the rain

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Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain fiddling with his testicles.  #wizardofballs

Who knew it was a great place to jack off?

Who knew it was a great place to jack off?

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In college, I made fun of my friend’s shirt because it had a small stain on the chest.  I called her “uni-nipple” and she hated it. (Eventually I just called her “uni”.)  I recently put on a shirt with a similar stain, went for a bike ride, then found a tick on my chest.  Karma!

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F.U., BP.

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Before you know it, the Koch brothers will be selling dope.

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The phrase “maybe, maybe not” is not terribly positive, on balance.

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Something is very wrong when Google Maps tells you “turn left on Jones Hollow Road” and your immediate thought is “fuck you”.

Sometimes the Google bitch is on the rag.

Glad Google Bitch can’t read my mind

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I want to get a hunchbacked female dog and name her Quasimodette.  No bitch jokes, I promise.

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My goal in writing is to keep people on the edge of their seats and occasionally piss them.

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Someone should tell pregnant pro-life women that fornicating is technically (for them) group sex.  With a minor.

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I always feel better after going to the doctor, because she forces me to breathe deeply.

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A sucker used to be born every minute.  Now we’re down to about 40 seconds.

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It’s fun to be the standout these days with my lack of tattoos.

If I get one, I'm going elaborate

If I get one, I’m going elaborate

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My Driveway’s (Still) A Country Road

(inspired by John Denver’s “Thank God I’m A Country Boy”, and my driveway)

Well, you can’t live in a house, and lots o’ money lack
‘Cause there’s always something breakin’ or-a goin’ off the track
When you look out my front window, not much pavement – mostly crack!
My driveway’s a country road.

Well, walkin’ to my mailbox is like walkin’ on a farm
The driveway’s bumps and holes will surely do you lots of harm
I won’t try to convince you that it’s full of rustic charm
My driveway’s a country road.

My driveway was a-blasted through a bunch of big old stones
To hike it every day would turn the girls right into crones
If you ride down it real fast, it means you’ve got some big cojones
My driveway’s a country road.

My daddy played the fiddle but he didn’t have my house
If he ever saw my driveway, he most certainly would grouse,
“It’s shameful when your asphalt is much worse than the Town’s!”
My driveway’s a country road.

If you came upon my driveway in a fancy limousine
It’d prob’ly crack in half and then go on and just careen
Into one of two huge boulders that are really, just plain mean!
My driveway’s a country road.

So, I talked to some contractors, got myself a nice big quote
For less money, could go out and buy myself a big-ass boat
And sail it ’round my castle in a newly dug moat
My driveway’s a country road.

© 2014  J.G. Rapoza

A shorter version of this poem was originally published at my blog three years ago.  The driveway is still a mess.

A shorter version of this poem was originally published at my blog three years ago. The driveway is still a mess.

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