Monthly Archives: April 2012

I don’t like inviting my friends to watch me perform stand-up because I want to avoid the awkward and disheartening moment that takes place after a horrible show.  For example –

– Friend: “Josh, you did a really good job…of articulating.”
Josh: “What about joke-telling?”
Friend: “Yeah, those p’s were crisp.”

– Friend: “Josh, that stuff you said about women — do you really believe that?”
Josh: “Uh, you know, I mean………yes.”
Friend: “And that character you talked about – Katie — is that me?”
Josh: “No.”
Friend: “Really?  ‘Cause she said stuff I’ve said to you verbatim.”
Josh: “Well, Katie’s an amalgam of some girls I’ve dated…including you.”
Friend: {tearing up} “You said she was bipolar!”
Josh: “I asked you not to come!”

– Friend: “I’m so glad I came.”
Josh: “Really?”
Friend: “Yeah, that guy who went on before you was hilarious!” {laughing, then OFF of Josh’s disappointed face} “Oh, and the guy who went after you, too.  Loved that guy!”

– Friend: “Well, that was intense, huh?” {laughs uncomfortably, then} “Seriously, though.  You should stop doing this.  It’s sad.”

– Josh: “What’d you think of the show?”
Friend 1: “Yep.  You were up there.”
Friend 2: “Yeah, no, I mean, it was…interesting, Josh.  I saw your face the whole time; so, that was good.”
Friend 3: “I thought your stage presence sold some rough jokes.”
Friend 4: {to Friend 3} “Really?  I’d say his jokes were strong enough to make up for his lackluster stage presence.”
Friend 1: “Well it looked like you were having fun up there.”
Friend 3: “It did.”
Friend 2: “And it must take balls to get up there in front of people.  We could never do that.  Knowing that all those people might think you’re stupid with that strange material?  …and you always seem so angry…”
{Long, uncomfortable pause.}
Friend 1: “Microphone sounded good, though.”
Friend 2 / Friend 3 / Friend 4: “Oh yeah.” / “Certainly did.” / “Clean sound.”

Here’s another awkward situation I find myself in from time to time: someone tells me a story, I don’t pay enough attention, and when the saga continues and I’m asked my opinion on the matter, it’s too late for me to admit that I have no idea what’s going on.

I think this happens to a lot of people.  We zone out because we can tell by the tone of someone’s voice whether we’re supposed to respond with, “I’m sorry to hear that,” or “You deserve it,” or “Go, girl!”

The tricky part is finding clever ways to get around not knowing the facts.  For example, if my friend asks what I think she should do about Linda (who could be her mother, her sister, or her tax attorney for all I know), I’ll say –

Josh: “You should probably…” {re: someone else in the room} “…tell him the story…in front of me.  Then you can have two opinions.”

I’m actually in this situation right now with my sister.  She’s described a whole cast of characters I can’t remember.  I’m afraid one day I’m just gonna give up, like –

Josh: “Emily, I’m sorry, who is Tom again?”
Emily: “My boyfriend of six years.”
Josh: “Oooooooooh.  Right.” {then} “You have a boyfriend?”

Is there anything more pointless than yelling at people while you’re driving?  The answer is no.  I know it’s pointless because I do it all the time and it’s never changed a thing.

Josh: “What are you doing, asshole?!”

(When I’m driving, everyone’s an asshole.)

Josh: “Slow down, asshole!  You cut me off, asshole!  I agree with the message on your bumper sticker, asshole!”

I’m honestly not sure why I do it.  It’s not like I expect the driver to roll down his window and say –

Driver: “You see, I confused 6^th Street with 16^th Street and thus swerved prematurely.  I profusely apologize.”

Besides, my windows are up; the other drivers can’t even hear what I’m saying.  They just see me screaming, gesticulating, and punching the steering wheel.

I must look like an asshole.

When my insecurity rises, I get unnecessarily defensive.  This often happens at the gym.

Gym employee: “Can I get you a towel?”
Josh: “No, YOU look like an asshole.”

As a rather scrawny man, I feel out of place at the gym — like an amputee at an interpretive dance competition.

Amputee (with no arms and one leg): {moving his body around} “Um…I’m a worm?”

* * *

Can’t they position the weight machines so that I’m facing the wall or something?  Or maybe set up a separate room so I can avoid my feelings of shame?  That’s logical, right?  I mean, if you go to the video store, isn’t the porn section curtained off?

I want to start my own gym.  Like Curves but for weak men.  I’d call it “Bones.”

It wouldn’t be populated with all of the “afters”; this would be a gym for the “befores.” A gym for the guys who get winded just walking in. A gym with a smoking section. A gym with weight machines that wouldn’t exceed 30 pounds.

Instead of the Christian themes of Curves, though, Bones would be run by heavyset, nurturing Jewish women.  Our motto would be –

Jewish woman: “24-Hour Fitness…if you want.  Otherwise, come in, sit down, have a nosh.” {then} “Do a push-up, don’t do a push-up…  Listen, as long as you marry a nice Jewish girl, we don’t care.”

– I hate when they censor movies for TV because I always feel like I’m missing something.  These tough characters come on screen like –

Tough guy: {lower intonation} “I will mess you up, you motherbologna.”

And sometimes, they edit out whole scenes.  When I first saw American Pie on network TV, I thought it was about a kid who got out his sexual frustration by cooking.

– I dedicate this next bit to my last girlfriend: if you have sex with a celebrity while you’re dating me, it’s still cheating.

Thank you.

– One of the first college shows I ever did was at Brigham Young University in Utah.  Someone in charge of booking criticized me for being too clean.  He was like –

BYU booker: “Sorry Josh, but we like our comics to have a little edge.”
Josh: “Edge?  Are you kidding me?  This is BYU for Christ’s sake.”
BYU booker: “Whoa!  Not that much edge.”

– When I go to the airport, I always get strip-searched.  But that’s because I put questionable items in my bags.  How else am I gonna get that kind of action?

– I don’t understand how Republicans can support war and the death penalty but not support abortions.  Aren’t abortions just a much more efficient death penalty (or pre-emptive war)?

– Is anyone else not surprised that the word schadenfreude came from the Germans?

– My friend apologized to me recently.  I told her, “No skin off my back…because I have psoriasis.”

Ah, that’s a disgusting joke.  And not true.  It’s only on my legs.

– A lot of people think comics are bad people, but you know what?  We really are.  Because as comics, we say all the things everyone else is thinking but keeps inside…because everyone else has a social filter.

– “Sleaze bag” is a term horny women use for men who sleep with their friends instead of them.

– I just saw a French movie.  I was surprised — it had a happy ending.  Which was really refreshing, you know?  My first hand job in months.

These are some of the worst introductions I’ve ever had…

10. A TV literary manager introducing me to another manager who might be on my “team” –

{Manager A and Josh talk. Manager B walks in the room.}

Manager B: “What’s going on?”
Josh: “Hey man.”
Manager A: {to Manager B} “This is Josh, the one who wrote the pilot I had you read.  We were just talking about his sister who goes to Harvard.”
Manager B: “What’s her name?”
Josh: “Emily.”
Manager B: “I’ve probably fucked her.” {OFF Josh’s shocked look, matter-of-fact} “I’ve fucked a lot of Emily’s.” {then} “Also, I didn’t read your pilot.”

9. My college roommate freshman year –

Josh: “Hey, I’m Josh.”
Roommate #1: {on the phone, holds up his hand like, “Hold on.”} “Yeah, call me back when you find out.” {hangs up, then} “One day, they’ll invent a device that allows you to punch someone in the face through the telephone…and THAT will be the greatest day of my life.”

8. Counselor at UCLA –

Josh: “Hey, thanks for squeezing me into your schedule.”
Counselor: “Before we even start, what are you majoring in right now?”
Josh: “Well, until I see if I get into the film program, I’m a communications major.”
Counselor: “My mom was a communications major.”
Josh: “Yeah?  What does she do now?”
Counselor: “Stay-at-home mom.” {OFF Josh’s look, laughing} “The opportunities await you.” {then} “Seriously, though, I hope you get in.  The communications major is for idiots.”

7. Random guy on the bus –

Guy: {stares at Josh for a long time, then} “I remember being your age.”
Josh: “Yeah?”
Guy: “Yeah.  I was rowdy.  I once spray painted onto the cement, ‘Dear God, Please flush this toilet.’”
Josh: “How old were you?”
Guy: “42, actually.  And I misspelled ‘toilet.’”

6. My college roommate sophomore year –

Josh: “Hey man, I’m Josh.”
Roommate #2: “[Says name.]”
Josh: “How was your summer?”
Roommate #2: “Good.  I took shrooms and turned into a purple devil.”

5. Meeting a cute co-worker at a bar –

Josh: “So, [name of girl], tell me a secret about yourself.”
Girl: “Tequila makes me slutty.” {to the waiter} “One tequila please.” {to Josh} “Don’t get any ideas, asshole.”

4. Meeting a writer for Variety magazine at a college networking event –

Josh: “Hey, my name’s Josh.  I’m trying to get into writing, and I’m gonna ask you the standard, ‘What advice do you have?’ question.”
Brian: “Enjoy traveling in your youth, because once you’re older, you’ll never be happy again.”
Josh: “You mean I’ll never be able to travel again?”
Brian: “I know what I said.”

3. Film School student –

Josh: “I’m so glad I got into this program.”
Film School student: {completely serious} “I know.  I’ll finally get a chance to make that movie about the well-hung dwarf who goes into porn titled The Long and Short of It.”

2. My college roommate junior year –

Josh: “Hey man.  I’m Josh.”
Roommate #3: “I’m really sarcastic, I hate everybody, and I’ll probably hate you, too.”
Josh: “Awesome.”

1. JOSHUA, the five-year-old grandson of my mother’s boyfriend –

My mother: “Joshua, this is Josh.  You guys have the same name!”
Joshua: “I’m gonna kick your butt.”
Josh: “Wow.  That’s a hostile introduction.”
Joshua: {touching Josh’s bony arm} “You’re fragile.”
Josh: “Excuse me?”
Joshua: “Ew.  Do you ever shower?”
Josh: “I don’t smell.  What is with the barrage of insults here?”

{Joshua runs behind Josh and kicks him in the ass over and over.}

Josh: “Hey.  Stop, dude.  Seriously, stop it.”

{Joshua continues kicking Josh in the ass.}

Josh: “I’m just going to ignore him. He’ll stop.”

{Josh stands still, ignoring Joshua.  Joshua doesn’t stop, laughing his ass off.}

Every woman in my family does the same thing: if she wants to get out of a job because she already feels overwhelmed, she’ll recite her to-do list in the most drawn-out way possible.  For example –

Family member: “First I have to go to the maaaaaall…then I have to pick up the kiiiiiiidds.”

And the less there is to do, the more detailed that list becomes.

Josh: “Hey, could you go pick up something for me at the store?”
Family member: {sighs} “First I have to turn on the caaaaar.  Then I have to back uuuuuuup.  Then I have to turn the wheeeel –”
Josh: “Jesus Christ, I’ll do it myself.” {then}  “Can you hand me my glass of water?”
Family member: “First I have to open my paaaaalm.  Then I have to manipulate my elboooow…”

Just because you preface something nicely or properly does not mean you can follow it up with whatever hateful or inappropriate thing you want to say.  For example, a friend of mine often structures sentences like –

Clueless friend: “I’m not a racist, but…Spaniards are the worst people on the planet, scum of the Earth, born to do yard work.”

I’m like –

Josh: “Dude.  That’s racist, that’s ridiculous, and I’m pretty sure it’s just Mexicans.”

Besides, that sentence structure is contradictory.  It’s like telling someone, “I’m not violent, but…” right before you punch him in the face.

And there are countless examples of this.  Religious people say –

Religious person: “I’ll pray for you…you piece of shit.”

Southerners say –

Southerner: “Bless her heart…but she is a cunt.”

…and then there’s always the famous –

Anyone: Now I can say this ‘cause I got a [black / gay / Jewish / any other minority] friend…  [Racism, prejudice, and/or otherwise fucked-up thoughts].”

That last phrase may be the most annoying, especially when my friend forgets to say it until after the prejudiced thought.  He’s like –

Clueless friend: “Ah, c’mon.  I can say that.  Some of my best friends are fags.”