Happy Friday! You guys didn’t think that just because I’m on blogcation I would leave you without some stand-up to start your weekend off right, did you? BF is going on a hiking trip with his dad and brother next week (so jealous), and we all know what happened last time I was left alone, so I’ll probably be blogging a lot. But until then, here’s a little comedy to tide you over!

So, without further ado, the pill to make being at work on a Friday a little bit easier, Friday Stand-up:

First is comedian Andy Peters doing a bit about driving that made me laugh:

Second is everyone’s favorite, Maria Bamford:

Have a great weekend!

I wanted to title this post “breaking the bloglence” (get it? blog-lence!), but I realized that it was neither clever nor funny, and that I am just super tired. And the reason I am super tired is also the reason I am breaking my self-imposed seven-day blogcation (get it? blog-cation! somebody stop me!). So here’s what happened:

Last night I was a part of the first round of the “Funniest Person in My Town” contest. Now, let me just say, I HATE comedy contests. They take the fun out of doing stand-up- they are usually based on audience vote, so inevitably the person who brings the most people and is usually the least funny moves on, and they make something that was never meant to be competitive, competitive. I participated in a bunch last year, was continually beat down by them and swore that I wouldn’t do it again. But this one is hosted by my home club, so I felt like I should participate.

I tried to go into it with a “who gives a fuck” attitude, but in all honesty, I wanted to win. I was nervous like I haven’t been nervous in a long time. I had a good group of friends there, but I knew I couldn’t move on with their votes alone (I had about 15 out of the 250 people there). I watched the first couple of comics go up and completely bomb. At the last minute I decided to change my set, because at least half of the audience, friends of some guy trying stand-up for his second time ever, was over 50 and I was pretty sure they wouldn’t appreciate my joke about being in a strip club and seeing ladies’ vaginae (did you know that is the plural of vagina? Who knew?).

All this to say, I was less than sure of myself while I was waiting to go on stage. Right before I went on, a comedian came up to me and said “Just be confident. Whatever you do, just be confident.” And so I took a deep breath, repeated “confidence, confidence, confidence,” walked up to the stage, and had an amazing set. Maybe my best set ever.

One thing I like (and hate) about stand-up is that you never have to ask someone how you did. You know. Everyone knows. Either they laughed or they didn’t. And this time they did. A lot. It was great. And the icing on the cake? I moved on! I’ve made it to the semi-final round!

And I was, and still am, unreasonably excited about it. When the MC called my name, you’d think I’d been asked to “come on down” for the Price is Right. I made BF, a great sport as usual, talk about it the whole ride home and then again when I woke up this morning. I’m still beaming, sitting here at my desk, pretending to do very serious work. I am totally aware that in the scope of a comedy career, this small victory is pretty meaningless, but don’t try telling me that today!

Anyway, I just wanted to share my news!

—– RESUMING BLOGCATION—–

Hey guys. I’m taking a week-long blog vacation (from both writing and reading blogs). I’ve got a crazy week lined up and I need to focus my mental energy elsewhere.

I’ll see you all in a week!

Don’t go doing anything I wouldn’t do while I’m gone :)!

Let’s all pretend that this is where I’m going, instead of sitting at my desk trying to finish an assignment that’s eating my brain, okay?

Hey, its Friday! Congratulations on making it through another week! You know, I’m not usually the gushy, show your emotions-y type. But. I wanted to tell you guys that I love you, I really really do. Cause sometimes I post things and I think “WP, that post is immature, and kinda stupid, your readers are going to defect.” And then…instead of leaving me, you all join in! So I thought, what better reward for my group of dirty-minded, childish, fun-as-hell readers than some dirty-minded, childish, fun-as-hell stand-up comedy?

So here it is, guaranteed to make you shoot soda out your nose, Friday Stand-up:

First up is the always irreverent Andi Smith talking about boob jobs:

And second is Natasha Leggero talking about Rite Aid:

Have a great weekend!

This is for my new unsolicited advice column.

Dear douchebag I passed on the highway with a backwards baseball hat, oakley sunglasses, no shirt, driving a Hummer with a pair of truck nutz hanging off the hitch,

Seriously.  You had  me at backwards hat.

Kisses,

Walking Punchline
*****************************

Dear skinny bee-atch who told me “It must be awesome to be married and be able to eat as much as you want.”

Fuck you.  Wait, no.  FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCK YOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUU.

All my love from the bottom of my heart,

Walking Punchline

When I was hiking the Appalachian Trail, we talked constantly about what our 100% perfect day would be. It usually involved a lot of sleeping and eating and watching TV, but sometimes we thought it would be spending the day playing with the action figures of our youth or reading comic books under a shade tree. I’m not sure why it never involved anything exotic or difficult to achieve, I guess our lives were so simple during that time that simple pleasures appealed to us.  If you asked me nowadays what my perfect day would be, I might say flying to Paris for dinner, or riding an elephant*, or headlining a sold out comedy tour (a girl can dream, right?).

This weekend was a good reminder that an experience doesn’t have to be elaborate to be perfect.  We spent the weekend at Supergirl and Grover’s lovely home in Madison, WI, along with E and Hefro.  We cooked out, drank massive amounts of Grover’s amazing home brewed beer, played guitar and sang and made s’mores around the fire pit, we talked and laughed and cried, we floated on inner tubes down the Wisconsin river on a beautiful, sunny afternoon, and made silly videos of each other.  The weekend was so wonderful that it ended with us trying to decide where we could all move to have more weekends like that (our top three places after a very complicated series of rankings and eliminations were randomly Asheville, Denver, and Portland, Maine).

* I would never say that.

So, what would happen on your 100% perfect day?

Happy Friday everyone! There is quite a bit to celebrate this Friday, isn’t there? Besides being the Fourth of July, it is my big brother K’s birthday. Happy Birthday K (he doesn’t know I have a blog, but its the thought that counts, right)! Also, as this is posted, BF and I are on our way to Madison, Wisconsin to spend some quality time with some of my favorite ever people- my best friend E (from Trail Tuesdays) and her husband Hefro; E’s sister Supergirl, and her husband Grover (who both also have roles in Trail Tuesdays…I may have referred to them in the past as C and H). And the only thing I could think of to top all of that awesomeness is some great stand-up comedy!

So here it is, more patriotic than a star-spangled eagle, Friday Stand-up!

First is a clip from comedian Robert Hawkins, performing at the Aspen Comedy Festival:

Second, making this an all Hawkins and all Aspen edition, is Tyrone Hawkins:

Have a great holiday weekend everyone!

This is my new unsolicited advice column.  Today’s installment:

Dear guy in the gym who wears a headband, tank top, and shiny red biker shorts everyday,

NO THANK YOU.

All my love,
Walking Punchline

******

Dear person who cut me off in traffic and then waved like that makes up for anything,

Stop being an asshole.

Kisses and hugs,
Walking Punchline

******

Dear person who got mad at me when I accidentally cut them off this morning,

Why so upset?  Didn’t you see my wave?

Yours truly,
Walking Punchline

I needed to write a new post so that the story of my poop wallet is no longer at the top of the page.  Fortunately, I had the following email conversation with my friend DL this morning.  I met DL in law school, and we became fast friends, bonded in a hatred for our classmates.   I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me posting this here…right?

DL: So, what up…

Me: Are you kidding me.  I swear to god, I opened hotmail to email you.

DL: I’ve been focusing thoughts towards you all morning.  Did you have a hankering for fried chicken when you woke this morning?  Yep, that was me.   I learned how to do it by reading The Secret©.

Me: Holy shit.  I actually had a fried chicken biscuit for breakfast.  You are magic.
Let’s do lunch tomorrow.

DL: I’m telling you, that book is amazing.  All you have to do is think stuff a bunch and it will come true.  Just ask Oprah.  I’ve been thinking of dunking for a while now.  It’s going to be sweeeeeeeet!

Lunch tomorrow works.  Start thinking about a place to eat now.  Or start thinking that you’re thinking about a place to eat while I actually place thoughts in your mind about where I want to eat, causing you to choose where I want to eat, all the while actually believing that it’s where you want to eat.

Me: I’ve been thinking about flying for two weeks straight.  I’m going to go up to the roof tonight and see if it works.

Remember that disgusting story about the christening of my peepod? Yeah, I can now top it.

While I have moments where I feel like I can’t live without a certain pair of heels, or where, as happened recently, I convince myself that I absolutely must own a gold clutch, for the most part I pride myself in not being too, for lack of a better phrase, girly. Important to the following story is the fact that I rarely carry a purse. In fact, I’m baffled by what women carry to fill a purse, especially the jumbo variety that tend to be the size of a small vehicle. BF carries the keys and cell phone, I stick my wallet with a couple of credit cards, some cash, and my drivers license in my back pocket and I’m ready to go. Or so I’ve always thought (cue ominous music).

On Friday, BF and I, BF’s brother and sister-in-law, along with our adorable niece and nephew who were in town visiting, ventured out to the area Greek Festival. Fun times were had by all, and with our bellies full of meat on a stick, feta cheese, and $5 beers (for the adults only; five dollars is way too much to spend on a toddler), we headed home. On the way out, realizing I may have had one $5 beer too many, and that home was too far for my bladder, I made a bee-line toward the row of porta-potties.

As I finished up my business, and was pulling up my pants, I heard something drop into the water. I quickly checked my pockets and realized that my wallet was missing.

Hoping against hope, I cracked open the stall door, “BF! BF! Is my wallet in your pocket?”

“No…” He answered, wondering why his wife was yelling at him from a porta-potty stall.

“Ummm…can you come here please? And bring me a big stick?” I ask frantically, trying to decide whether I really needed the things in my wallet, and deciding that unfortunately, I did.

A woman passing the stalls and hearing all of this, asked me what happened, and when I told her that I thought I dropped my wallet in the blue abyss, she said “You’re joking, right?” Yeah, lady, fishing my wallet out of strangers’ piss and shit is my idea of a good time.

BF handed me a big stick, which I used to unsuccessfully try to fish out the wallet. “Here, try this.” BF said, now handing me a plastic grocery bag.

“What the hell is this for?” I asked.

“Put it over your hand, and go fishing.” BF said, not even trying to hide his amusement.

The bag did the trick, I found my wallet, and said a small thank you to the porta-potty gods that a) these were newly emptied porta-potties, and b) it was fairly early in the evening.

“Thanks for your help, BF.”

“You’re welcome. Just don’t touch me with your poop hand.”

“Yeah, or your poop wallet.” My brother-in-law chimed in.

“Poop wallet!!” My two year old nephew repeated, coining what would become the phrase of the weekend.

So, how was your weekend?