Thursday, July 21, 2005

She Works Hard for the Money

1) The lyrics of that song, "She works hard for the money/So hard for the money/So you better treat her right" seem like they're coming from a Prostitution Watchdog group. Pimps, you best be looking over your shoulders because Donna Summer is on to you.

Author's Note- OK, I just looked that song up, and I swear, it really is about a hooker. Of course, I always thought that Shawn Colvin song "Sunny Came Home" was about a woman building a bomb...

2) I didn't work out this morning, which is fine. I'll be running 8 miles tonight. I've learned that running through sketchier neighborhoods has really helped my training. It's basically like an interval workout: Sprint past the guy passed out at the bus station (run all-out if he's foaming and twitching again), slow down at the laundromat unless you see an ambulance outside, sprint past the Morningstar storage place because you're pretty sure a woman was held captive in one of them in a Lifetime movie once, sprint past the guy wearing a Che Guevara shirt, not because he looks dangerous but because you really don't like hipsters...

Also, today is Thursday which means Stinky Guy was at the Y. I don't know how someone could possibly cultivate a stench that powerful and still remain unaware of it. He smells like dead animals threw up on his clothing and then he filled it full of deviled eggs and left it in his car trunk for 8 months. I'm not kidding, I've never been around napalm, but I'm pretty sure it had the same noxious effect this guy does. On the other hand, I do get freaked out if a gigantic bodybuilder guy smells like fabric softener. When I was unemployed (that should narrow it down to, um, most of the time between 2001-present) I used to see a beast of a man whose legs were so big he looked like his torso was perched on top of two full-grown Asians. He also had a tattoo composed of about 90 human skulls inked on one arm and it was of lesser quality, like it could have been done over the course of a prison term using a BIC pen and a thumbtack. So it was always jarring to me when I'd see him throwing up in a trashcan after he'd deadlifted the equivalent of a Kia dealership and he still smelled like a Care Bear.

3) Back at Goodnight's last night. It was an odd crowd. There were about 100 people there, but they were apparently ashamed to laugh out loud. That explains why the club's "burka check" was full. "Omar, you know it is unclean to display our teeth to a stranger. Do not make eye contact with her, standing on that platform with her Western demeanor and exposed ankle flesh... ". I had a good set, actually, and did some new stuff. Hooray for me.

I wore a t-shirt that had a shark on it, which apparently made it OK for everyone with a Y-chromosome to ask if I was a maneater. Very clever, sir. Perhaps you'd like to do some comedy from your table next week. No, actually, just like this shark, I am considered a delicacy by the Japanese and occasionally pose a threat to swimmers. Also, I am made primarily of cartilage. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be slamming my car door on my head for the next 40 minutes.

One of my jokes is about my unwillingness to ever have children and I was approached by a woman after the show who said that her 3 friends were ready to propose to me because I was in shape and didn't want kids. I'm glad that I've reached the stage where those are my two major selling points: an ability to wear corduroy pants without making an audible sound and a lifetime prescription for Ortho-Tri-Cyclen. As an added bonus, the birth control keeps my skin dewy as well! My boyfriend is a lucky, lucky man.

Finally, I was talking to another comic about working a couple of other local clubs. We were going to exchange numbers but he only took mine and said, "You skew on the attractive side and I don't think my wife would appreciate you calling." Thanks, sir. You skew toward the schmuck side for saying something that retarded. I hope my shark shirt and eggless ovaries don't screw up the grading curve for everyone else.

1 comment:

jaeda said...

wait, that song isn't about some psycho chick making a list of people to kill?! what the eff is it about, then?