Monthly Archives: April 2011

“Chocolate makes me gassy.”
- Carl Jung

No, he didn’t really say that.  Still, I bet he said something like that; it just wasn’t worth writing down.  I mean, think about it: just because you’re considered a “great mind” doesn’t mean everything that came out of your mouth was pure brilliance.  These “geniuses” must’ve said a lot of inane, stupid shit, too; they just get remembered for their intelligence.

Unlike today where it’s the exact opposite –

“I get to go to lots of overseas places, like Canada.”
- Britney Spears

“I think gay marriage is something that should be between a man and a woman.”
- Arnold Schwarzenegger

“[Anything that’s ever come out of my mouth.]”
- George Bush

…

See what I mean?

I used to have a really hard time wasting anything.  I was always like –

Josh: “I’ll dink the spoiled milk.”
Josh: “You never know when you might need that software for DOS.”
Josh: “People aren’t laughing now, but maybe I’ll keep that outdated Monica Lewinsky joke.”

It was horrible — because my desire to conserve was misconstrued as some religious thing.  Every time I tried to save anything, I’d hear –

Person: {re: Josh, derogatorily} “Jew.”

And the problem only got worse.  Earlier last year, I signed up for match.com.  Six month trial.  Found a girl in a month.  What was I to do with the last five months?  I felt like I had to cheat on her.

I went to a friend’s wedding and the flower girl started throwing rice.  I asked –

Josh: “They’re gonna cook that later, right?” {eyes widen, start scooping it up frantically} “Save the rice!  Save it!”

My mom told me her Motrin was going to expire the next day.  I grabbed the bottle and said –

Josh: “I…will draw the line here.”

BUT IT WAS HARD!

I’m just saying, if I had something functional, I felt no need to replace or discard it.  That’s why for so long, I went to the gym in my red-and-pink flower-print swimming trunks and my Hello Kitty tank top.  Because you know what?  It may not have fit my sister anymore, but it still fit me.

* * *

Now I’m the complete opposite: the less I have, the more at peace I feel.  But here’s the problem: I have a pretty depressed demeanor, so every time I try to give something away, I become uncharacteristically happy…and my friends think I’m going to commit suicide.  I’m like –

Josh: “Do you want these?  I’m not going to use them.”
Female friend: “Do we need to talk?”
Josh: “No.  It’s a box of tampons my ex-girlfriend left at my place.  Do you want ‘em or not?”

We don’t need to have an intervention every time I make a trip to Goodwill!

My mom still thinks it’s frugality.  She asked me if I’m going to be one of those dads who yells at his kids for wanting too many toys.  I said no — ‘cause I’m not gonna have children.  They’d just be one more thing I’d want to get rid of.

– I was in a bookstore recently and noticed The G.E.D. for Dummies.  Isn’t that redundant?

– While I was there, I purchased a book that’s supposed to improve my comedy writing.  I already felt like a cliché loser when I bought it.  It didn’t help that the back of the book reads, “Buy this book and people will laugh at you!”

– I started writing jokes when I was fifteen.  I didn’t have much to say, though.  It was all like, “So…bacne is weird.”

– Comedy can be hard, it can be depressing, it can be a 30-minute drive out to a shady restaurant in Sherman Oaks called “Smiles” to be paid only in jeers.  But sometimes…sometimes you get the room going, and you say something you really believe — something not only funny, but honest — and as everyone’s laughing with you, believing in you, it’s the best feeling in the world.

So I’ve been told.  Mostly, people just throw shit at me.

– When I die, I want my initials to mean something the way MLK and JFK mean something.  I want people to hear JDL and think something more than just “Jewish Defense League.”

– I’m trying to be healthier, too.  I don’t want to live some short, shitty life.  I want to live a long, shitty life.

– So for breakfast, I eat a cereal called “O’s,” which I guess is like the depressed version of “Cheerios.”

It’s appropriate: every morning, the first thing I see is, {disappointed} “Oooh.”

It doesn’t help my mood that the cereal box keeps reminding me, “You are not a winner.”

– I tried being vegan for a while, but I never understood why vegans try make their food look like regular food.  Isn’t the fun of being a vegan acting like an asshole about it?  Like why do you want to eat a tofu burger?

All of their food should be shaped like a trophy.  Just put it in some self-righteous mold before consuming.

Vegan: “Yes, I’d like to get some more cage-free tofu.” {looks around to make sure everyone heard the order}

– You know what doesn’t make sense to me?  Fat vegans.  It’s like, “Motherfucker, how much broccoli are you eating?!”

Seriously, just because it’s vegan doesn’t mean that Vegan Moon Pie is that much healthier.

– I started seeing a psychiatrist, too.  He’s been giving me Lexapro and a few other drugs for a while, but I think we just figured out the perfect cocktail to make me feel better: a cosmopolitan.

I still go home for the holidays, and every year I’m surprised by the gifts my family gives me.  First of all, they’re things I would never want, like –

Josh: {feigning happiness} “Oh, the director’s cut of Gigli.”
Aunt: “I know you like movies.”
Josh: “And The Autobiography of Rupaul?”
Aunt: “I know you like reading.”
Josh: “And a vibrator……for the third year in a row.”
Aunt: “I know you like –”
Josh: “You know what?  Don’t…finish that sentence.”

* * *

But worse than that is getting gifts you don’t even need.  I’m not eight years old anymore.  I don’t need pogs or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figures or a picture book called It’s Okay that I’m a Slow Learner.  I’m twenty-five now.  I need cash, time, and self-esteem.

So, yes, maybe I do need that picture book.

But my mom continues to give me books about the importance of mother-son relationships, my grandmother continues to give me wall decorations with phrases like, “It can always get worse!” (which I think is supposed to be uplifting, but seems like it might be working at cross purposes), and my girlfriend continues to give me guilt.  I’m like –

Josh: “No.  How about you just…pay my cell phone bill?  Stand in line at the DMV for me?  Give me a gift certificate to therapy?”

I want to wake up on Christmas morning and go –

Josh: {unwrapping a gift from under the Hanukkah bush} “Contact solution?!  Thanks, Mom.”

* * *

Of course, I’m equally terrible at giving gifts — especially when it comes to women.  Women see gifts on a whole different level than men do.  I gave my girlfriend a watch.  She was like –

Girlfriend: {defensive} “What does this mean?  You think I need to be more responsible?”
Josh: “What?  No.”
Girlfriend: “Is this a reference to that time I was late to the movie?”
Josh: “I just thought it was a nice watch.”
Girlfriend: “Oh, and it’s silver.  Are you telling me I’m not good enough for gold?  That I’m second best?”
Josh: “Doesn’t most of your stuff match silver?”
Girlfriend: “Are you cheating on me?”
Josh: “Am I cheating on you?!”
Girlfriend: “Oh!  And chocolates?!  Thanks Josh.  Now I get to be fat again.”
Josh: “Well, yeah, if you eat them all in one sitting –”
Girlfriend: {emotional} “You know how long it took me to lose that weight?  What are you gonna give my mom when she gets out of AA?  A bottle of Jack?”
Josh: “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to –”
Girlfriend: “Let’s just bring that gut back, huh?  Prospective mates will love that.”
Josh: “Prospective mates?  We’re dating.”
Girlfriend: “Are we?”

{A long, uncomfortable silence.}

Josh: “I guess you shouldn’t open the nose hair clippers.”