NEW SH*T.

This was originally going to be a stand-up set but I'd like to get it out there this way. Granted, one out of every 15 jokes or so depended on moving around my voice in a certain way, but you're smart and brave and so you'll figure it out and-- I believe-- will enjoy it. (Note: despite the second, third, and fourth joke being old, the rest is brand new, honest.) Also, if you'd like to see the stand-up set I'm most proud of-- and one of the things I'm most proud of in my entire life-- you an watch that here: http://youtu.be/oLJeQWlmQL8

• There's a local radio program at my college called “Watch your dubstep,” and you simply don't know how badly I want to change it to my own idea-- one that I think kicks that titles ass-- the title “Rub-a-dub-dub-step, Three Men In A Tub-Step.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
•  I just have to warn you about something because for the first time in my life-- and this happened recently-- I had a frozen dinner that was terrible. It was a lean cuisine chicken Tuscan. Let me tell ya, that was one really lean cuisine because I took two bites and threw the rest of that shit out.

• I think they ought to change the name of that meal from chicken Tuscan to chicken disgusting.
  
  
•  I think they ought to change the name of that meal from chicken Tuscan to chicken fucking up my dinner.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• A few months back I was on a school bus and there were three people on this school bus: it was myself, the bus driver, and the bus driver's three-year-old daughter. The three-year-old girl was hugging this small doll that would sing out this love song that filled up the entire bus. It was the sweetest thing. I wasn't necessarily like that as a kid. I think I got more vile as I got younger in a sense, because I was born a premature baby. And as a baby-- and like all my premature brethren-- I was born without any eyebrows and all over my body I was purple.
  
  
• Basically, when I was a baby I was just a tiny screaming eggplant. That's what I was. That's a fact.
  
  
• And as a baby I had a one-track mind!
  
  
• And all I could think about was food!
  
  
• And the only way I could ask for it was by crying.
  
  
• And I'm so glad I am the way now because now when I want food I say things like ...”Please...” and “...Thank you...” and “Fuck that one, I want the cinnamon kind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• When I was six, like many six year old, I would cry all day long. It's awful how we do that, it's like we're degenerate gamblers with bad luck.
  
  
• And I would be crying in public of all places.
  
  
• And there are two categories of actions you can do when you're out in public: things that aren't allowed and some things that are discouraged. Like crying in public is a pretty sad thing that's pretty discouraged. But there are some things that are absolutely not allowed...
  
  
• Like you're not allowed to be fully, utterly, completely naked in public... that's illegal...
  
  
• You're not allowed to be selling pot in public... that's illegal...
  
  
• G-d forbid if you're a naked pot salesman, you'll be busted within the minute.
  
  
• I swear, with your nads out and a fist full of joints you'll be arrested before you're sneakers can reach the end of the block.

• But there are so many unspoken rules out there when you're a kid. Like how in elementary school you're only supposed to use the bathroom once or twice a day and really only to pee. I would never do that. Since I had different teachers I would just ask to use the bathroom a bunch of times a day and I would never go. I would just walk around the school like it was the Museum of Modern Art.
  
  
• I would treat Shepard Glen Elementary School like it was the Museum of Modern Art and I would walk real slow and take it all in and just be glad I wasn't in class learning about Christopher Columbus' rivals.
  
  
• You really never use that information! Let's face it. You'll never use that info in a job interview, in a conversation, and you wouldn't even use that information if you were a professor of Christopher Columbus studies.
  
  
• Even if you were a professor Christopher Columbus studies you probably wouldn't be talking about his rivals much. There probably wouldn't be much overlap. You would probably just talk about the prostitute-fucking excuse of a sailor that Christopher Columbus was.
  
  
• I feel real confused because my history textbook says Christopher Columbus was a great guy but I read this one feminist blog about him and honestly, know I just don't know who to believe.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• I'm Jewish but that never makes me feel like an outcast but there is one exception: when it comes to Christmas radio songs. I love Christmas lights and I love Christmas TV specials but I can't even deal with Christmas radio songs. There are-- this is true-- 7 billion people in the world. Some of them must want to listen to American radio in the month of December and want to just hear some G-ddamn Coldplay.
  
  
• Must we be selfish towards the Coldplay-loving brosephs of the world?
  
  
• But, just because I am who I am, I can't help but take this all very personally. It's a stunning thing how fast “We Wish You a Merry Christmas,” starts to sound like “We Wish You a Merry Christmas and an Unhappy Hanukah.”
  
  
• It's a stunning thing how fast the lyrics of Jingle Bell Rock start to sound like “Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock. Jingle Bell, suck my, Jingle Bell cahh....” You can figure out the rest.
  
  
• It's a stunning thing how fast “O, Christmas Tree!” starts to sound like “Ahhhh! Zionists!” *(Note: “Ahhh,” to be read as a person loudly shouting out in fear.)
  
  
• It's a stunning thing how fast “Chestnuts Roasting On an Open Fire,” becomes “People That Don't Believe What We Believe Roasting In Hell.” The point is it's ridiculous! It's ridiculous!

Series of jokes that are very, very good but weren't good enough to make the act:

• I've been playing violin ten years now and I've been a writer for two and a half. Those are my things. I just wish I had a skill where you could do it whenever and show it off at parties. I wish I could whistle, or beat-box, or juggle. Or any of those small but amazing abilities. There are some people out there that-- if you give them enough soda-- can burp the alphabet. I can't do it myself, I even tried. But there are some people that can burp from A to Z. I can do something else though: if you give me the right foods I can fart to 100.
  
  
• Not all at once though. Over the course of three days... I have a very slow metabolism.
  
  
• But don't sell it too short. I can poot to 100. I can cut the cheese to 103, probably.

Note: stay tuned because I play on writing an essay really soon about how much I like this radio show called “WTF With Marc Maron,” and how it's changed my life and it will likely be entertaining and-- hopefully-- funny.