30 Day Challenge: Day 29 – Comedy Routine

 

 

In my third year of uni I took a comedy class not realising that part of the assessment was a stand up comedy routine. This was what I ‘performed’ – if you can count sweating, shaking and trying to remember how to say the word sarcasm correctly as performing. I’m warped, I know, but even I can’t believe I said the following out loud to a room full of people with a camera pointed at me.

No, I will never share the YouTube link. Never.

 

 

If you don’t like sarcasm, you won’t like me… So get the fuck out.

No, I’m kidding…

Or am I?

Some people say that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit. Well, those people should be shot in the face. At close range. Forty-six times. In front of their weeping parents.

No, I’m joking… Actually, I’m not, shoot them all, even the children.

Sarcasm is an essential part of our society. Without it, life as we know it would be over. If sarcasm was banned there would be riots in the streets, whole cities would be burned to the ground and ninety percent of the population would be imaginatively yet brutally murdered. And that’s just how I’d cope.

Do you know how many articles there are about dealing with sarcastic people? Too fucking many. Most of them talk about how you should be sensitive around sarcastic people because psychologists say that sarcasm is just the defence mechanism of a deeply unhappy person. Really? I personally think it’s just the best way to deal with the clinically retarded.

Speaking of psychology, anyone here ever read a self help book? Yeah, some of you have? Okay, well, you did it wrong. You see, self help books can’t help you if you read them. No… The only way they’ll help you is if you use several of them to weigh yourself down when you jump off a bridge into a deep, icy lake filled with toxic waste and piranhas.

Come on, are you really going to take life advice from psychologists? Their careers are based on Freud wanting to fuck his own mother! Freudian slip? More like Freudian slips into his mother’s vagina.

Psychologists tell everyone to voice their feelings… ‘Don’t bottle it up, let it all out…’ They’re the reason the world is filled with oversharers… You know the type – the people who know you for all of five seconds and tell you everything from the death of their grandfather to their recent yeast infection. Both in graphic detail. I’m not kidding, this woman actually told me both these stories and I still don’t know which was worse. I mean, yes, her grandfather was killed in a horrifying skiing accident where he fell off a cliff, was practically decapitated by the ski lift wire and impaled by a tree… But this woman’s yeast infection. Let’s just say it made me wish I didn’t have a vagina. Or out of date yoghurt in the fridge.

We’ve all met an oversharer, right? Well, if you haven’t, it’s you. And you need to be stopped… You know what, I hear they sell some excellent self help books on oversharing… You should go buy yourself a couple…dozen.

Nowadays with Facebook and Twitter we get to know everything about everyone. FACT: annoying, misspelled, private subject matter Facebook statuses cause sixty-five percent of a third of twenty-four percent of a quarter and a half of all murders. And you can quote me on that.

I mean, don’t psychologists understand? Their encouragement of people telling everyone everything is what caused sarcasm in the first place… What better way to respond to statuses like ‘I literally hate my cheating ex boyfriend.’ than with ‘WHAT? Shut. Up. I’ve never heard of anyone that literally hates their cheating ex boyfriend…’ Or ‘It’s snowing outside!’ with ‘Oh my God, that’s what that falling white stuff is!’ Or ‘I just took a two foot long, mile wide shit!’ with ‘Congratulations, your medal will arrive in 2 to 4 weeks…’

Honestly, these ‘psychologists’ don’t know shit. You just wait, next they’ll be trying to tell you that, I don’t know, midgets aren’t circus freaks or that alcoholism is a real thing…

(Downs contents of a vodka bottle)

Anyway, you probably haven’t realised this about me yet, but I’m a little sarcastic. I know, I hide it well… My problem is when I have to be around someone who doesn’t understand sarcasm…

For instance, I was talking to some friends about prostitution the other week, you know, as you do… And I said ‘Oh yeah, being a prostitute sounds greeeaaat…’ And this genius looked at me, sheer disgust wiped across her face and said ‘Laura, how could you say that?’

Now, I’m not a particularly violent person…but at this point I wanted a large, dense object covered in spikes and industrial-strength bleach to fall from the ceiling and crush her.

Of course I’d eventually get it off her. I’m not a monster! I’d make sure she was okay!

Then I’d kick her ‘til she was dead.

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