I was talking to some people, friends of an acquaintance sort of thing. The guy I knew has been on my mailing list forever. He’s an ‘active fan’.
What I mean by that is each time I send out a new bit (I post here a few times a week but send a mailing every other week. Most people on that list never check out the other stuff so I doubt he’ll ever see this. But if he does all I can say is, fuck you! You shouldn’t have pushed) he sends me an email critique.
I don’t know why he’s still on the list. He hasn’t liked anything for the longest time. He REALLY liked this one thing I wrote some time ago and, since then, his standard reaction is disappointment.
Like I’m his once favorite baseball player who lost his fast ball. Oh, he’ll still watch him on the hill but it’s mainly to see just how he’s going to screw up.
I’m chatting to his people and it’s not a situation where comedy has been offered. Even if it was, this wasn’t my crowd. I’m good at reading people and these were people on the other side of ‘Piss Up A Rope.’
You see, in my world there are two types of people. There are those who do not and those who do find Ween’s Piss Up A Rope hilarious.
Needless to say, I play better to the latter.
“Chris is one of the funniest people I know.” I don’t know why but, to me, that’s not as big a compliment as he’s making it seem. “Come on, Chris, tell us some of your funny stories.”
Now a normal man would comply, and a normal man would feel pride, but, a normal man would not be the type of person to come up with the inanities I do.
So I reach back for advice from my past to figure out how to play this situation.
At first I politely decline. Saying I don’t have anything prepared; I don’t want to burden these people with my proclivities; I don’t think is the place for even my tamest material.
“Oh come on, you’ve got a million of ’em.” Yeah, and right about now they all have to do with shallow graves and nooses made from your own intestines.
But, even with my politeness, he keeps pressing. Keeps pushing me into a corner. It’s then that other advice, from a more proactive leader of my past, rings through.
“If you start hitting someone keep hitting them because, if you stop, they’re going to get up and be pissed.”
Then there was another blip from when I first started writing comedy. He was a wizened hack who, between shots of rye and drags on a cigar said, “You gotta make the audience pay.”
Well, I think, the polite thing didn’t work. But just what’s going to happen? Trust me, I was just as surprised to find out how this was going to play out. Like I said, I had nothing planned.
It didn’t take long for me to see that it was going to start hard and, if history is any indication, end up in a bed of ugly.
“Have you ever been ball deep in some bitches pussy and thought,
‘Is something biting my cock?'”
Now where in the hell am I going to go from there? Let’s see, why don’t we try,
“I’m just saying, mistakes have been made. Have you ever woken up after a hard night not quite knowing where you are? You’re in that moment when you’re just coming to and you realize there’s a hand on your cock. Then you notice that both your hands are under you head. I know, scary. So you start to assess the body behind you and realize they don’t have tits. I know! Mistakes have been made, that’s all I’m saying. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve woken up with people without tits before. Like that chick I dated who’d had a mastectomy. Oh please, don’t judge me! She was great. Hell, fucking her made me feel fifteen again.”
By now I’m glaring at the guy who is, quite reasonably, shitting himself. The people around him aren’t even breathing. I know I’ve only got six seconds before people run for the doors so I close it out.
“I’d like to thank my friend here for allowing me to tell a few of my jokes he finds so funny. But let me tell you a little something about this guy. He wasn’t always this much of a pussy. No, back in the day he had balls. Then he bought his wife one of those shake weights and, after a few weeks with that, she tore his cock and balls off and fed ’em to the dog. Now they have something in common: they’re both neutered.”
Lest you think I went to far, trust me, if I didn’t have the compassion for my fellow man I do, I would have kept going.
As a matter of fact, I’d already pulled the slider back and chambered one about incestuous necrophilia.
All I needed was a reason to pull the trigger.