Tag Archives: Humor

PRO-WRESTLING: Obsessed Ep 50

Actor, comedian, charming human Hal Lublin of the Thrilling Adventure Hour is obsessed with Pro-Wrestling. Join us for a macho discussion of giant muscular humans beating one another up as a form of theater! Cheer as Hal body slams such questions as: What would you hit people with? How would you feel if Hulk Hogan was your father? Is pro-wrestling the nerd/jock singularity after all? PLUS: Hal improvises a special pro-wrestling promo for Joseph’s Patreon!

AWOOGA! Obsessed is now a part of Feral Audio! Go to Feral now to listen to this episode and subscribe for new ones!

Listen, rate, review, and subscribe to OBSESSED on iTunes.

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JoCoCruiseCrazy: Obsessed Ep 49

Joseph and his martinis decided to do some fast dirty interviews onboard Jonathan Coulton’sfourth annual music-comedy-nerd cruise. A plethora of cruise-goers including Grant Imahara, John Scalzi, The Doubleclicks, and more answer questions about the cruise, community, alcohol, Angry Clown Island, Beyonce, Lord of the Flies, and more. PLUS: A very special version of the Obsessed theme song by Molly Lewis.

AWOOGA! Obsessed is now a part of Feral Audio! Go to Feral now to listen to this episode and subscribe for new ones!

Listen, rate, review, and subscribe to OBSESSED on iTunes.

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A Man and His Urban Myth Tweets

For just over a year I’ve been doing a series of daily tweets. First tacos, then monkeys, then daily affirmations, then daily etiquette tips, then incorrect quotes, then fake TV shows, horoscopeshorrorwriting tipsholiday tweetsresolution tweets, Hey Girl tweets, and now Urban Myths! Enjoy!

You can also follow me on Twitter to enjoy April’s series of very important tweets about pastries!

Day One – If you read three correct facts in a row on Wikipedia you will die in seven days.

Day Two – The best way to get rid of the hiccups is to put a bag over your head. The bag MUST be full of bees.

Day Three – If you mix Pop Rocks with Crystal Pepsi and drink it you will travel back in time to 1992.

Day Four – If you feed an American some Poutine after midnight they will turn into a Canadian.

Day Five – If you say your own name out loud three times a life coach will appear.

Day Six – If you go more than 7 days without tweeting about Benedict Cumberbatch, twitter suspends your account.

Day Seven – The average person swallows 300 people dressed as Spider-Man over the course of their life.

Day Eight – If you say the name of “The Scottish Play” in a theater your pants turn into a kilt.

Day Nine – Every truck in Portland is a taco truck.

Day Ten – Dingoes do not eat babies. They love babies. Some of the finest daycare centers in Australia are run by dingoes.

Day Eleven – The Richard Gere gerbil story is ridiculous and untrue. That said, Tom Cruise once put an entire llama up his butt.

Day Twelve – This guy I know once opened a diet coke can and the whole thing was filled with actual cocaine.

Day Thirteen – There is a Taco Bell in Detroit that is owned and operated by a family of raccoons.

Day Fourteen – Benedict Cumberbatch is actually a charming, complex muppet operated by the ghost of Jim Henson.

Day Fifteen – Things you CAN pick up from toilet seats: butt leprosy, full-blown jerkface syndrome, a lateral lisp & toilet rickets.

Day Sixteen – Every time you take a selfie you are stealing your own soul and then giving it back to yourself.

Day Seventeen – Every three leaf clover is EXTREMELY bad luck so the whole world is pretty much fucked.

Day Eighteen – If you pull a normal person’s finger they fart. If you pull a rich person’s finger, quarters come out of their butt.

Day Nineteen – They tease you because they like you.

Day Twenty – If you yell “fire” in a crowded theater you will burst into flames. It’s a cool trick, but only once.

Day Twenty-One – Trader Joe’s Pinot Grigio wine is actually made from sugar and the tears of white people watching The Bachelor.

Day Twenty-Two – There have been mole people living under New York for 100 years but only because the sewers are rent controlled.

Day Twenty-Three – If you listen to any Michael Bolton song backwards you can hear Satan refuse to buy his soul.

Day Twenty-Four – If you hit Reply All to respond to an email your message will be sent to everyone you have ever had sex with.

Day Twenty-Five – Every time you hear a sad trombone, an angel’s wings fall off.

Day Twenty-Six – If you stand in front of a microwave you will slowly develop the power to shoot Lean Cuisine meals out of your hands.

Day Twenty-Seven – If you don’t change your Facebook privacy settings, Mark Zuckerberg can come to your home and poke you.

Day Twenty-Eight – It’s okay to pee in a swimming pool because the chemicals in chlorine wash away your memories of being a monster.

Day Twenty-Nine – Aliens landed in New Mexico in the 1940s and immediately started making great meth.

Day Thirty – If you have a smartphone and you go more than 10 minutes without looking at it, it will start screaming.

Day Thirty-One – If you watch any VHS tape, you will die eventually.

Your mythical friend,

Joseph

If you enjoy my work, you can check out all the comedy words and things I’m making via Patreon.

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I WANT TO EAT YOUR BRAIN

This comedy blog post was made possible by Patreon. One of the rewards for becoming a Patreon backer is suggesting a topic for the blog. My friend and kind Patreon patron, Angela Webber of The Doubleclicks, gave me the very fun suggestion of “toys that come to life.” This unlocked a deep memory of humorous toy horror. Enjoy!

VenomNew

I had a lot of action figures growing up.

For the most part, if any of them talked it was because I was saying things for them. I was working through emotional issues, like the time I made Han Solo and Princess Leia go see Yoda for couples counseling.

That’s a true story. Learned a lot about expressing ourselves, we all did.

But I only had one action figure that actually talked. It was a huge hunk of plastic molded into the shape of the Spider-Man villain, Venom.

At the time, I thought a talking action figure was amazing. Now inanimate objects talk to me constantly. The other day, I accidentally activated Siri in my pants. I was walking down the street when I heard Siri’s muffled voice come out of my front pocket saying, “Joseph! I can’t help you find what you’re looking for.” I understand, Siri, I understand.

But Venom was amazing! He said three awesome things! Each corresponding to a different button!

Pushing the first button made Venom say, “Die, Spider-Man!” This was great. It was like his thesis statement. Clear, concise, great open communication. Yoda would be proud.

The second button made Venom say, “Hisssssss!” To be clear, he didn’t make a hissing sound. He said “Hissssss!” like it was a word. It was over-pronounced and insincere. Venom said “Hisssssss!” like he was doing musical theater. Like “Hisssssss!” was his big solo number in A Chorus Line.

But the third phrase was worth wading through all the musical theater in the world. When you pressed the third button Venom said, “I want to eat your brain!”

At the time, an action figure that said “I want to eat your brain” was one of the best things in my entire life. It was the verbal equivalent of accidentally hitting yourself in the balls: it was equal parts scary and hilarious.

I took Venom around and made him tell everyone that he wanted to eat their brain. He told my brother, he told my chihuahua, he told Luke Skywalker in Bespin Fatigues, he told my mother who was actually fatigued from life.

Eventually, six or seven months later, it got old. I set Venom on my dresser and forgot about him.

Until one terrifying night.

I was having a dream that someone was talking to me. Saying the same thing over and over. I struggled out of the dream and realized someone was actually talking to me. Someone inside my bedroom.

It was Venom. And he wanted to eat my brain.

It took me a few minutes to identify it. But when I did it was unmistakable.

I WANT TO EAT YOUR BRAIN.
I WANT TO EAT YOUR BRAIN.
I WANT TO EAT YOUR BRAIN.

“Weird,” I thought as I got up, stumbled over to the bed, and hit Venom’s brain-talking button. Unlike Siri, Venom stopped talking immediately.

I went back to bed. And Venom started up again.

I WANT TO EAT YOUR BRAIN.
I WANT TO EAT YOUR BRAIN.
I WANT TO EAT YOUR BRAIN.

I tried hitting all of his buttons repeatedly but he wouldn’t stop.

The closest thing I had ever experienced to this was watching an adult with a baby that wouldn’t stop crying. I could have held him or gently rocked him. Instead, I wrapped him in a sack and buried him in my closet.

But I could still hear him.

I WANT TO EAT YOUR BRAIN.
I WANT TO EAT YOUR BRAIN.
I WANT TO EAT YOUR BRAIN.

I tried to hear what he was saying differently, to imagine he was saying something less horrific like “I want to eat more bran.” So I hid under the covers and listened to that for a while.

I WANT TO EAT MORE BRAN.
I WANT TO EAT MORE BRAN.
I WANT TO EAT MORE BRAN.

Somehow that was more disturbing.

I was full of questions.

Why didn’t his batteries run out?

Was…was it possible that he was actually alive?

What would that be like to be trapped in plastic with only three things to say?

What three things would I say?

Probably “Thank you,” “I’m sorry,” and “Why?”

Or maybe “burrito” mixed in there. But would it be a question or a statement?

Burrito? Burrito! Probably burrito with an interrobang. Burrito!?

Eventually, I gave in and decided to really LISTEN to what Venom was saying. And I realized he wasn’t saying “I want to eat your brains.” He was saying “I want to eat your brain.”

To me, “brains” always sounded like the physical matter. Zombies want to eat our brains. No ambiguity there. Our heads are their burritos.

But “brain” singular seemed like a concept. Like Venom wanted to digest my mind. So I tried my best to hear it that way. I cowered in bed and listened to a possibly sentient action figure buried in a closet say:

I WANT TO GET TO KNOW YOU.
I WANT TO GET TO KNOW YOU.
I WANT TO GET TO KNOW YOU.

And eventually I drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, I was sure it was a fever dream. I went to the closet. I listened at the door. Nothing. I slowly opened the door. I gently unwrapped the towel.

And then I heard it.

I want to eat your brain.
I want to eat your brain.
I want to eat your brain.

It was just a whisper now. Soft and gentle like a lullaby. A brain eating lullaby.

I wrapped Venom back up and put him away. I didn’t hear him again.

Years later, I was packing up to move and I found Venom buried in the closet.

I assumed his batteries had long since burned out. I didn’t want to push his button and hear the nothing. But I decided to take a risk. I pushed his button.

I WANT TO EAT YOUR BRAIN!

He screamed at full volume! Wow! I tried hitting his “Die, Spider-Man!” and “Hisssssss!” buttons.

I WANT TO EAT YOUR BRAIN!
I WANT TO EAT YOUR BRAIN!

To this very day, I still own that action figure. And to this day, all he will say is “I WANT TO EAT YOUR BRAIN.”

And he says it loud and proud.

A good reminder that I should try to be like Venom. I should say what I mean, loud and proud.

THANK YOU.
I’M SORRY.
BURRITO!?

That’s good, clear, open communication. Thanks, Venom.

If you enjoyed the post, check out my Patreon page! Thank you. I’m sorry. Burrito!?

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A FUN THING FOR HUMANS TO DO

AFunThingForHumansToDo

I once again sailed on JoCoCruiseCrazy and I once again had a great time performing as well as doing other human things that I would normally do on land but instead doing them on a boat.

If, like my mother, your first reaction is “What’s a JoCo and why are people cruising on it?” here are the basics: Jonathan Coulton is a talented, kind, funny human who sings songs. For the last four years, he’s gathered other talented, kind, funny humans to sing songs and tell jokes on a cruise ship. You should go next year.

This year, the cruise was on a ship that I believe was designed by aliens. More on that later.

Here’s some cool stuff about the Jonathan Coulton part of the cruise:

The attendees call themselves Sea Monkeys. After four years, the Sea Monkeys have formed a community that exists on the sea, the land, the internet, and sometimes even the air if you go parasailing during the cruise.

For example, a nice Sea Monkey named Laura dressed her stuffed monkey up as Batman and then gave it a taco just for me. Things like this constitute fairly normal interactions on the cruise.

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The Sea Monkeys are also a great audience. I had over a million metric tons of fun performing in the ship’s Goth Club in the middle of a Monday afternoon. The club had a strange, sexy Beefeater theme so this statue was my co-star.

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Paul F. Tompkins  kindly performed the controversial piece Cats Versus Dinosaurs  with me and Molly Lewis  was my co-host for my nerd-friendly sport Competitive Hugging. The Sea Monkey volunteers came, they saw, they hugged the shit out of each other.

I also played a role in the boat edition of Thrilling Adventure Hour. Peter Sagal and I portrayed angry people from the Midwest. It was easy to get into character.

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And I served as communications officer for “Drunk Celebrity Artemis” in which Grant Imahara flew our spaceship backwards through asteroids. This was not an actual command given by our Captain, Angela Webber of The Doubleclicks, but it was very entertaining.

All that said, the actual cruise part of the cruise seemed even stranger to me than normal.

Cruises are meant to evoke elegance and luxury, but with the glut of cruise problems in the last year there’s also the mental image of being lost at sea, defecating in a bag, while rats infested with the norovirus stare at you in judgment until you wash up on the island from Lord of the Flies.

Perhaps because of these thoughts I was more aware of the cruise ship as a floating contradiction. I spent a few extra minutes on my balcony staring at the endless sea and the vast sky–realties of the physical world that remind you of your tiny insignificant nature and the absurdity of our civilization. All of that just a few feet away from an angry lady from Iowa screaming BINGO and spilling a little bit of her strawberry-mocha margarita out of the commemorative plastic cup that is ringed with chunks of salt and small edible conflict diamonds.

Adding to the contradiction pile, our ship was called the Independence of the Seas and I for one felt INCREDIBLY INDEPENDENT as other humans cleaned my room and made me martinis.

There were many things about the Independence of the Seas that were almost right, but not really, leading me to the inevitable conclusion that this particular cruise ship was designed by aliens with only a loose grasp of human culture.

Each level of the elegant three story main dining room was named after a Shakespeare play. In particular, a Shakespearean tragedy. This led to a delightful moment of hearing a man with a heavy southern drawl loudly and repeatedly asking a steward, “Where is Macbeth? Where’s Macbeth? I can’t find Macbeth!”

Dining rooms named after Shakespearean tragedies is the set-up to a choose-your-own-punchline-adventure joke. Turn to page 57 for “at least they didn’t choose The Tempest.” Turn to page 163 for “I hope the dining room isn’t named after Titus Andronicus.” Turn to page 269 for “WHY DON’T THEY JUST CALL THE SHIP THE TITANIC?”

The ship was also lousy with challenging art. I don’t mean challenging as in thought provoking, I mean most of the artwork was so aggressively weird I felt like it was actually challenging me to a fistfight.

There was the picture of a deer looking at its own mounted head.

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There was an elegant print you could buy of a famous human named Jack Nicholson farting.

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There was a photograph that I believe was called “Buff-Man in the Shadows” or “Child of Light with Huge Pecs” or “Terrifying Live-Action Family Circus.”

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There was an illustration of spaceships from Star Wars sinking naval ships.

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Here you can truly see the aliens trying. They know a lot of humans like Star Wars so, hey, why not some pictures from Star Wars? How about some ships? How about two of the most obscure ships only seen in Return of the Jedi? Yes, that sounds good. We’ll have a picture of TIE-interceptors and A-Wings. What should they be doing? How about destroying something? Sounds good, but let’s make it relatable. What if they were sinking other ships?

YES! The spaceships should be sinking naval ships–VERY MUCH LIKE THE ONE THE HUMANS ARE FLOATING ON RIGHT NOW! I think the humans would enjoy that! Alien high-five! Or high-seven depending on their anatomy!

The ship also had a promenade or mall in the center as if commerce itself could keep us afloat. One of the storefronts was a pizza place called Sorrento’s which I choose to believe is Italian for “Sorry, humans.”

Many of us went there to get late night pizza. The pizza was available all day, but this pizza is like a great jazz club, a vampire, or texting your ex. It belongs to the night.

The pizza is not good. It’s also not bad. It’s almost pizza but not quite. It’s like eating the Uncanny Valley.

I could go on and on about the strange cruise.

I could tell you the aliens also chose a ridiculous name for our toilet paper.

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Heavenly Choice. So much wrong packed into just two words. The act is almost as completely opposite of heavenly as you can get and, hopefully, there’s not a lot of choice involved. It’s not shopping for a new car, it’s basic cleanliness. Come on, aliens.

I could also tell you how the aliens took a part of Haiti and renamed it Labadee and then used it to exactly recreate an island from the Nintendo Gamecube era video game Super Mario Sunshine.

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Seriously, try saying LABADEE in Mario’s voice and it all comes together.

The point is my whole time on the ship I was overwhelmed by this idea, this sensation of aliens struggling to make sense of normal human culture.

By the last day I realized I was enjoying the cruise even more because of that. Normal human culture is weird. Normal human culture on a cruise ship is weirder STILL.

But everything makes more sense when you’re inside it.

It’s only when you pull back and look at it from a distance that you can see the absurdity and often the joy of how not normal what you’re doing is.

On the last day of the cruise, I thought I was in a room with a bunch of awesome people listening to my friend Molly Lewis sing some songs.

Then I let myself drift back and see it from the outside. I was standing in a fake goth club on a cruise ship listening to Molly sing a song about a detachable, flying vagina with a man dressed as Super Mario.

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And it was great.

So thanks to Jonathan, the Sea Monkeys, the skies, the seas, the aliens, the night pizza, and all the weirdness in our vast universe for another fun week on a boat.

This post was made possible by Patreon! If you enjoy my work, you can keep more coming by pledging a few bucks per blog post!

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HE-MAN: Obsessed Ep 48

Digital artist and writer Andrew Koehler HAS THE POWER! And the obsession with He-Man and Masters of the Universe or as we call it “marvelous crap.” Thrill to such important questions as: Why are all the characters half-naked? What’s a He-Man convention like? Could there be a great HBO He-Man reboot? Why should He-Man smell like Popeye’s Chicken? PLUS a He-Man specific commercial for Joseph’s Patreon!

AWOOGA! Obsessed is now a part of Feral Audio! Go to Feral now to listen to this episode and subscribe for new ones!

Listen, rate, review, and subscribe to OBSESSED on iTunes.

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A Man and His Hey Girl Tweets

For the past several months I’ve been doing a series of daily tweets. First tacos, then monkeys, then daily affirmations, then daily etiquette tips, then incorrect quotes, then fake TV shows, horoscopes, horror, writing tips, holiday tweets, resolution tweets, and now Hey Girl Tweets! Enjoy!

You can also follow me on Twitter to enjoy March’s series of Urban Myth tweets!

Day One – Hey girl you must be a global energy crisis because I’m worried about you. 🙁

Day Two – Hey girl are you the Super Bowl ’cause lots of bros are eating Doritos & having strong yet uniformed opinions about you.

Day Three – Hey girl you must be cheese, napping, or Benedict Cumberbatch because I can’t stop thinking about you.

Day Four – Hey girl are you a desk set from Ikea because I can’t pronounce your name and I feel stupid about that.

Day Five – Hey girl you must be a blockbuster video because I can never go back to you and I still have some of your DVDs.

Day Six – Hey girl you must be Tom Petty because you have nice blonde hair and seem like you would be fun to have a beer with.

Day Seven – Hey girl you must be a dairy product because I want you but I can’t have you I am lactose intolerant. 🙁

Day Eight – HEY GIRL YOU MUST BE ALL CAPS BECAUSE I CAN’T TELL IF YOU’RE EXCITED OR ANGRY ALSO I AM EMOTIONALLY TONE DEAF

Day Nine – Hey girl you must be LinkedIn because you keep sending me emails about stuff I don’t give a shit about.

Day Ten – Hey girl you must be The Hobbit: Part Two: The Desolation of Smaug because I’m not interested in seeing you. Sorry.

Day Eleven – Hey girl you must be poutine because you’re from Canada and a lot of people like you.

Day Twelve – Hey girl you must be an Oxford comma because you help me understand, process, and clarify things.

Day Thirteen – Hey girl you must be a horcrux because you have my soul but I also have six other girlfriends. I am a horrible person.

Day Fourteen – Hey girl you must be a gift card to Radio Shack because I have absolutely no idea what to do with you tonight. 🙁

Day Fifteen – Hey girl you must be Google Plus because I can’t convince any of my friends to hang out with you. 🙁

Day Sixteen – Hey girl you must be the red wedding episode of Game of Thrones because I can’t think about you without crying.

Day Seventeen – Hey girl you must be former United States President Theodore Roosevelt because I named a stuffed bear after you.

Day Eighteen – Hey girl you must be one of those blankets with arms because you make me feel warm and safe and you have arms.

Day Nineteen – Hey girl you must be an Upworthy article because I honestly don’t believe anything you say.

Day Twenty – Hey girl you must be a nice long nap because I want you every afternoon.

Day Twenty-One – Hey girl you must be x where x equals beautiful times the square root of smart divided by awesome I am very bad at math

Day Twenty-Two – Hey gorilla you must be autocorrect because I didn’t mean to call you a gorilla.

Day Twenty-Three – Hey girl you must be a fruity rum drink because you’re very sweet but I know you’re hiding something.

Day Twenty-Four – Hey girl you must be the norovirus because I can’t get away from you.

Day Twenty-Five – Hey girl you must be Harrison Ford because I like you even when you’re grumpy and don’t want to talk about Star Wars.

Day Twenty-Six – Hey girl you must be the iTunes user agreement because I agree with whatever you say so we can just move the hell on.

Day Twenty-Seven – Hey girl you must be. Cognizance of our own existence is a defining trait of humanity. I have a liberal arts degree.

Day Twenty-Eight – Hey girl you must be this joke structure because I really like you but I think we need a little time apart.

Your Hey Girl friend,

Joseph

If you enjoy my work, you can check out all the comedy words and things I’m making via Patreon.

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Cats Versus Dinosaurs

I hear people say–with alarming frequency–that they want politicians who are “regular people.” Presidents, governors, mayors who spend their time and energy thinking about the things regular folks do. You know, important stuff like burritos, vampires, and animated gifs of llamas that look like Tom Hiddleston. In that spirit, here’s a heated debate between two politicians about a subject near and dear to our hearts: Which popular animal is better? Cats or dinosaurs? Enjoy!

CatsVersusDinosaurs

CAT GUY:
Friends. Neighbors. Pet lovers. I’m a simple man. With a simple belief. Yes. I said belief. I only have one. And it is this: CATS ARE AWESOME.

I intend to prove this with a simple mnemonic device. The three C’s. Cats are cute. Cats are cuddly. Cats will lick their own crotches while staring at you with judgment in their eyes. That IS bold. Over the course of this debate, I will ask you to remember the three C’s. Cute. Cuddly. Crotch licking. It’s just that simple, America.

DINOSAUR GUY:
With respect to my opponent, Dinosaurs have everything that cats have and much more.

Take for example the mighty Tyrannosaurus Rex. Is a T-Rex cute? Yes, they have those tiny adorable little arms. Just imagine them doing things like opening a jar of peanut butter or smoking a little eCigarette. How cute is that?

Is a T-Rex cuddly? Yes. A T-Rex would give anyone a giant hug. WITH ITS MOUTH. Because it is the best predator the world has ever known.

Now I am the first to admit, and I’m on record with this, a T-Rex cannot lick its own crotch. But there are several dinosaurs who can. Take for example, the diplodocus. With a neck almost twenty feet long there is frankly nothing it could not lick. There are thousands of different cool dinosaurs, but a cat is just a cat.

CAT GUY:
You son of a bitch. There are millions of different kinds of cats.

There are sassy pants cats. Cutie-pie cats. Cool customer cats. Cats who like their bellies rubbed and cats who like their ears scritched.

Why, sir, there is a whole different group of cats you might have heard of called KITTENS. They’re like normal cats but more potent. They are the crack cocaine of the cat world. They are WEAPONIZED CUTE.

DINOSAUR GUY:
You bastard person. It is an insult to America to describe a kitten as a weapon. You want to talk about weapons?

Let’s talk about the pachycephalosaurus. It’s skull was ten inches thick. And I ask you what is more American than an animal that is specifically designed to resolve problems by repeatedly bashing it’s head against stuff?

Why, just one pachycephalosaurus could defeat entire communities of cats by smacking them with its head. A cat would pop up and whack! It would be the most beautiful and disturbing game of whack-a-mole the world has ever seen.

CAT GUY:
I do not agree, I do not agree. Any cat could beat any dinosaur in a fight and I will tell you how. The cats would wait. They would wait just a few million years. And the dinosaur would turn into a bird. And the cat would eat it. And I would take a picture of that and put it on facebook and all of my friends would like it.

DINOSAUR GUY:
Look, let’s talk common sense. Dinosaurs don’t even have to fight cats. The cats of today are defeating themselves with their rampant abuse of the street drug commonly known as catnip.

CAT GUY:
Hey, I make no argument that catnip is a major issue in the cat community. But the drug abuse is just a symptom of larger economic and class issues.

That said, many of our most famous cats have resisted the siren call of this deadly narcotic. Garfield. Hello Kitty. The Hang In There Cat from the motivational poster. I ask you, sir, what would a dinosaur themed motivational poster say? Hang In There Until We All Get Killed By A Giant Rock?

DINOSAUR GUY:
That is uncalled for, sir. But I have come to expect such uncivilized attacks from someone who loves such an uncivilized animal as a cat.

CAT GUY:
Uncivilized? CATS POOP IN A BOX. Where did dinosaurs poop? Literally everywhere! Montana! China! The middle of an Ikea store! Doesn’t matter to a dinosaur!

DINOSAUR GUY:
Yes! Yes! Dinosaurs did indeed poop everywhere. GIVING US FOSSIL FUELS!

CAT GUY:
That is dubious science at best, sir!

DINOSAUR GUY:
America, when you get in your car and drive yourself to the hospital after you have contracted toxoplasmosis or some other disease from cat poop, remember your car is running on ancient dinosaur shit and say, “Thanks, dinosaurs! Thank you for pooping everywhere! And no thanks, cats, for all the horrible diseases!”

CAT GUY:
Cats do not give humans diseases!

DINOSAUR GUY:
Cats have given human society one of the most dangerous social diseases of our time. I am of course speaking of Cat Ladies. Strange, agoraphobic hoarders who collect cats like they were Pokemon trading cards.

CAT GUY:
Well, Dinosaurs have also created a menace to polite human society.

DINSOAUR GUY:
What? What menace?

CAT GUY:
Dinosaur Kids.

DINOSAUR GUY:
What the hell is a Dinosaur Kid?

CAT GUY:
A Dinosaur Kid is a normally sweet, polite child who will absolutely LOSE THEIR SHIT if an adult says one mildly incorrect fact about a dinosaur.

DINOSAUR GUY:
That is a slanderous stereotype!

CAT GUY:
Why, even adult fans of dinosaurs can’t stop themselves from shouting obnoxious pedantic corrections about dinosaur factoids. For example if I said something like a triceratops had four horns! All located on its buttocks!

DINOSAUR GUY:
Hnnggghhhh.

CAT GUY:
Or did you know that a brontosaurus ate only meat and was actually covered with a thick layer of sequins? Yes, everyone knows the brontosaurus was basically a giant meat-loving showgirl!

DINOSAUR GUY:
Urrgghhhaaauuuaaa.

CAT GUY:
And the velociraptor? Oh boy, the velociraptor was the biggest dinosaur of them all! It was eight thousand feet tall! It had seventeen tails! It had claws for eyelashes! It only ate marijuana plants and as a result velociraptors pooped Grateful Dead CDs! PLUS velocirptors always wore fedoras!

DINOSAUR GUY:
Stop it! Stop it! You monster!

CAT GUY:
There’s no reason to be oversensitive. Be like a cat and play it cool.

DINOSAUR GUY:
GARFIELD IS STUPID. IT’S A TERRIBLE CARTOON. IT’S ABOUT A CAT WHO EATS LASAGNA. IT’S AN ADVERTISEMENT FOR HEART DISEASE. IT’S A BETTER CARTOON WITHOUT THE CAT IN IT. DOES THAT UPSET YOU? WHY DON’T YOU JUST “HANG IN THERE”?

CAT GUY:
Hey! Hey! Too far! Too far!

DINOSAUR GUY:
You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. That was unfair. Look, we’ve both said some hurtful things. Let’s just call a truce. I admit there are many cool things about cats.

CAT GUY:
And I concede that not all dinosaurs were great big stupid heads.

DINOSAUR GUY:
In fact, I would like to reach across the aisle and say the best animal of all would be a monstrous cat-dinosaur hybrid.

CAT GUY:
Indeed. A compromise is exactly what America deserves.

DINOSAUR GUY:
A compromise in the form of a giant, furry, Tyrannosaurs Kitty Rex. It would be cute and clever.

CAT GUY:
It would poop in a box!

DINOSAUR GUY:
It would have a skull at least two miles miles thick!

CAT GUY:
And as god is my witness, it would find a way to lick its own crotch.

DINOSAUR GUY:
Because America.

CAT GUY and DINOSAUR GUY:
Thank you!

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JOHN DENVER: Obsessed Ep 47

Singer, songwriter, theater producer, and real life bard Dennis Curley (who previously appeared on the Role-Playing Game special) is ALMOST BUT NOT QUITE OBSESSED with John Denver. Thrill to such sincere questions as: Was John Denver an alien? What was his money note? Would you like actual life guidance from a dolphin? Is filking okay? What would a John Denver song about cutting a bed in half sound like? How many times will we talk about Dungeons & Dragons during this John Denver podcast? PLUS a John Denver specific commercial for a new Patreon page!

AWOOGA! Obsessed is now a part of Feral Audio! Go to Feral now to listen to this episode and subscribe for new ones!

Listen, rate, review, and subscribe to OBSESSED on iTunes.

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HOLLYWOOD AND/OR BUST

Big life news!

After many years of calling Minneapolis home, my wonderful wife Sara Stevenson Scrimshaw and I are moving to Los Angeles. Los Angeles, California. I don’t know if there is a Los Angeles in Ohio or Cambodia or any other place, but we’re not moving there, we’re moving to Los Angeles, California.

Below is an FAQ. These are questions I’ve frequently been asking myself about the move. If you think you might enjoy reading my (frankly pretty informative) inner dialogue, then please continue reading!

Q: WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?

A: There are many reasons. When Sara and I first got married we agreed we wanted to try living different places. We did a pretty good job of that by living in TWO DIFFERENT PLACES in South Minneapolis, but it’s time for a real change.

Sara is interested in exploring new job opportunities.

After a lot of visits and investigation, I’m convinced Los Angeles, California is the best place to pursue the kind of comedy performance and comedy writing that makes me happy.

Also, I really do want to break-up with snow.

Q: BUT ISN’T MINNEAPOLIS AWESOME?

A: Yes, yes, it is. Saint Paul is not bad, either. When I was a little kid my parents had a pack of playing cards with a picture of the IDS, the big blue skyscraper in the middle of Downtown Minneapolis. At the time we lived in Brainerd–also known as “The Paris of Northern Minnesota.”

I was fascinated by that big blue, sci-fi looking building. I wanted to go to the big city and be a part of things. Years later, I worked in the IDS building at Kinko’s. I’ve done a show on the 50th floor. I’ve been on dates, laughed with friends, had a homeless guy say he would like to shoot me but couldn’t afford a gun–all in that building.

When I see the IDS all of this flashes through my mind. To me, it’s Minneapolis. It’s been a part of me since my earliest memories and it always will be.

But it’s time to check out some other skyscrapers.

Q: THAT’S ALL NICE AND ROMANTIC–WAY TO USE YOUR LIBERAL ARTS DEGREE–BUT WHEN ARE YOU ACTUALLY MOVING?

A: We’ll be making the transition–going back and forth a little bit–over the next several weeks with the goal to be all settled in Los Angeles, California by the end of March.

Q: WILL YOU EVER BE BACK IN MINNEAPOLIS?

A: Yes, thanks for that nice segue. I’ll be back in July to perform at CONvergence. Check the LIVE SHOWS section of this very website for details on this and other shows across the country.

Q: DO YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT LOS ANGELES?

A: Yes. I’ve been there several times and I’m lucky enough to know a lot of cool people. I look forward to hanging out and doing fun weird creative things with friends, fellow performers, writers, and all of their small, adorable dogs. Plus, I’ve watched every season of 24 so I know it only takes 5 to 15 minutes to drive anywhere in the metro area.

Q: WILL YOU BECOME A TOTALLY PRO-WEST COAST GUY OR WILL YOU BE ONE OF THOSE GUYS WHO LIVES IN LOS ANGELES BUT CONSTANTLY TALKS ABOUT HOW GREAT THE MIDWEST IS?

A: All I can say for sure is that I will make fun of both places equally.

Q: WHEN WILL YOU DO YOUR FIRST JUICE CLEANSE?

A: When it snows in Los Angeles.

I think that’s it! Thanks for reading and thanks for your support during this weird transitional time.

Sincerely,
Joseph “I’m really done with snow” Scrimshaw

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