… a favorite George Carlin bit, from “40 Years of Comedy,” with Italian subtitles.
Category: Comedy
In God We Rust
That’s the name of Lewis Black’s tour, and Herself and I caught the Bibleburg stop last night, with our friends Steve and Christina.
I hadn’t heard that he had done time in Bibleburg as a young man, in 1972, when I had fled the place for Alamosa. He was trying to get a theater going here, and I was trying not very hard to go to college. He spent a year here, which he confessed was all he could take. I managed two in Alamosa, which was all I could take. We both say “fuck” a lot. Makes you think. Maybe not.
He went off on the Gazette at one point and I nearly gave out with, “It was worse to work there than it was to read the sonofabitch,” but soon was glad I didn’t, because (a) there is no Audience Participation Time in standup comedy, and (2) shortly thereafter when he was recounting a screwing he’d endured at the hands of Verizon over a Droid purchase some bimbo chimed in about how he should’ve bought phone insurance and Lewis leaped from the stage into the crowd and tore her throat out with his teeth.
Well, OK, he didn’t actually do that. But he fucked with her for quite some time, and worked the insurance bullshit into another bit, and if she had anything else to contribute thereafter I didn’t hear it.
If you’d like to spend a memorable evening pissing your pants while laughing hysterically, here’s his schedule.
Black Friday blues
I camped out all night in my bed and when I arose this morning there was free coffee in the kitchen. Talk about your Black Friday bargains!
There was toast, too, but I had to make that myself. Ditto the eggs. And come to think of it, I had to pay for the eggs, bread and the coffee. Full retail, too, as I recall.
Damn. I think I’ve been screwed by The Man yet again. And without so much as a good-morning kiss.
Herself and I drove to Fort Fun and back for Turkey Day, served up by my sis’ and bro’-in-law, and a delicious meal it was, too. Turkey with all the usual suspects, including Brussels sprouts with bacon and a glass of one of my favorite rosés, Mas de la Dames Rosé du Mas 2009.
En route we missed “Alice’s Restaurant” on KRCC, but caught up with Arlo on KUNC out of Greeley, then followed that up with some “Sam Kinison: Live From Hell” (yeah, we have some odd holiday traditions).
As is traditional, the trip also served up a few contenders for the annual Darwin Awards, including an eight-car smashup near Larkspur, in broad daylight and on dry roads; a pickup driver with his lights off after sunset; and my personal fave, some dipshit fool in dark clothing astride a motorcycle sans taillight speeding in the left lane through Bibleburg as we approached Chez Dog at dark-thirty.
Ride on, brother. Hell ain’t half full, and I hear Sammy throws a swell party.
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