Funny?...

Death of a Comedian

            Spotlights shine down into my eyes. Their heat creates a sheen of sweat on my face as I tell my punch line.

 “Wow,” I said, “I’m likin’ that!” Everyone in the room started to laugh. The laughing continued a moment so I let it die down.

            “Thank you, you’ve been great, goodnight.”  I quickly exited the stage and descended into the pit that is called back stage. People flowed left and right as I made my way through the river of crew members which made the event seem to run so smoothly.

            I finally pushed past the stampede and made it to my room. I slammed the door behind me and leaned back on it sighing, “I’m glad that’s over.”

            “Over huh? I thought you had six more shows this week?”

            I jumped slightly as I realized I wasn’t alone in the room. A large, dark, man with cauliflower ears and a broken nose sat in large plush armchair in the corner of my room.

            “It’s too bad for those who bought tickets, almost makes me want to wait until the end of the week but, oh well, that’s life.”

            I began to tremble as he stood up out of his chair and took a lengthy stride over to me.

            “Please, relax it will make this so much easier.” His mouth split open in a grotesque grin displaying brown rotting teeth. “You know what, tell me a joke and I’ll give you one more day, but it had better make me laugh, or else…”

            My mind frantically raced and I went through my list of jokes until I decided on my closer. It was sure to make him laugh, hopefully…

            I began to stutter, “Um okay have you ever heard the one about the dog and the pizza? Well one day…” Bang, Bang, Bang! Three knocks cracked across the door and a voice shouted from the other side.

            “Hey, boss man say’s you need to move your car, it’s parked in a handicapped spot.”

            “Oh okay I’ll get right on that,” I choked out.

            The large man shook his head and said, “It’s too bad, that wasn’t funny at all. And I thought you had so much talent.”

            My eyes bulged, “Wait no! I didn’t get to tell my joke, I…”

Valentine's, Ballet and spartan kicking midget doors

     Valentine's day, a day dreaded or looked forward to around the country. Also one which I don't really want to talk about. I was planning on putting a few things about it maybe a rant or something but it doesn't interest me so I'm going to let someone else whine about it.
 
   After the milk incident my week has gone pretty well. The Thursday after that I went on a date to the ballet "Don Quixote" I hope I spelled that right. Not exactly my choice, it was a priest quorum activity. And if you live in Utah or are a Mormon you automatically know how old I am. (this is for those who might not know who I am, even though I doubt any of them are reading this)
 
 My opinion on the ballet was that.... well I didn't pay a lot of attention. I know there is a crazy old guy, some rich dude wearing pink. And a man that is needlessly not wearing pants, for some reason he it is impossible to play out his part while wearing pants, unlike all of the other dancers who do great even though they are hindered by pants or skirts. Coincidentally the man without pants, who from now on I will call MWP is the only one who messed up that night. Yeah he fell down, it was ridiculously funny. Now some of you may be unhappy for making fun of the ballet. You may even call me uncultured, which is probably true, but I don't care what my friend says watching men dance in tights in tights.
  By the way this friend is in my quorum and if I refer to him again he will be know as The Dancer.

  Here is the thing I won't put any names or faces of my friends or family on this website but if you know who they are you'll know who I am referring to.

  Anyway, I went to the ballet with a friend of mine who I will call McJagger, I know I know but I didn't pick the nickname it's one she already had. But she is one of my best friends and I took her to Sweethearts that Saturday. Yep whenever we are together we have a lot of fun. Just absolutely ridiculous things end up happening from spartan kicking a van to getting lost in a parking garage because we found a door that we were pretty sure was made for midgets. Is midget offensive? But yeah we ended separated from the people who were in our car although we could still talk to them because the entire place echoed. It was pretty awesome.

 Well I ended up writing way more than I meant to and only covered half of what I wanted to say oh well.

 I'll going to post another story after this, it's actually one I wrote for an English class and I would like to thank my brother for helping me with it's plot line.

Got Milk?

Here is the aftermath of dropping two gallons of milk

Rusty Trap

The Old Rusty Trap

            I am moving through my life careful as I can and I’m looking for the traps ahead. I see an old and rusty trap. Blood has dried on it. It’s been set off before. I think I recognize it. Yes, I do recognize it; I have been in it before. Now I know it’s there I know that he has set it for me. He is hoping that I fail; I can feel him watching me, grinning because he knows that even though I’m aware of it, even though I could easily step aside I will walk into it again.

            The blood on it is mine. I can still feel the wounds that it made on my body, and my mind. Yet there is still something attractive about it, something that inexorably draws me to it. It’s not concealed, he has displayed it right in front of me, his arrogance is amazing, but there must be something to it for I have not ever been able to escape it.

            I now stand above it; I can feel it calling to me. I crouch down and feel the sides of it, gently stroking the outside edge with the back of my hand. A little more courageously I feel the inside edge, the smallest mistake and it will go off and the sharp teeth with dig into my arm. I see the trigger, a small round pad directly in the center of the trap. When pushed it will snap shut with a furious speed and trap my poor arm.

            I begin to move my hand towards the trigger pad, as I do this all of the scars that run up and down my body began to burn in remembrance of the pain this action has cause me in the past. The scars begin at my legs, they are still red and sore for those first injuries never healed. Those on my arms came next; these still cause blood to run down the length of my arm. Finally the two on my ribs come with excruciating pain. The bleeding from these is accompanied by broken ribs which are the cause of a pained heart.

            I wish I had never fallen for this trap in the first place. It could have been easily avoided. Many people shared their knowledge of it, and their warnings of how best to avoid it. But in the intelligence of my self I saw fit to ignore it. And again, I could go past it easily enough and move on but I have to test it. Pit myself against it, see how far I can go until…. Snap! It shuts tight on me again.

            My hand is now hovering lightly above the trigger. I know this will hurt me; I know that I will regret this the second I do it. Slowly and cautiously I begin to push downward.

            A hand grabs my arm and quickly pulls me away. It has a wound on the back of his hand and going through to his palm. I look up and see my friend looking at me with a concerned look on his face. He helps me up and puts his arm around me. With me leaning on him, we walk carefully past the old rusty trap.

First post, talking about music, and begging a favor

This will be my first post. Yea! or is that supposed to be YEAH! whichever one has the long A sound is the one I'm looking for. Well lets get off of words. Can you be on words? Whatever, I'm going to tell you about what I expect to do on this blog. Pretty much I'm going to be putting essays, and rants on here. Once in a while I might put a story on this blog (that depends on my actually finishing a story I begin) but if I ever do I'm sure I'll put it on here so that you can give me feedback on it.

That is if anyone is actually reading this.... Hello?

Well along with that I may put a few of the exciting event in my life on here. Some pictures, you know the regular bloggy stuff.

And that's about it for now, I'll try to get at least one post per week on here but don't count on it.




Let me just go off into my own little speaking or writing journey for a second

Right now I'm listening to a pandora station for the Young Dubliners. It's pretty awesome. I would definitely recommend it, that is if you are a fan of Irish rock. Well I just wanted to say that I am listening to a song called something like, Mary my Fine daughter, at least that is a line from it.... I just realized that I put a qualifier on a lot of what I say I'll try not to do that from now on, I realize that it is quite annoying and doesn't display any confidence in what I'm saying.


Here I'm going to ask everyone reading this to help me out. Every time, I mean Every single time I put an unecessary little bit into my writing like, at least I think so, I hope I'm right, or something like that I want you to call me out on it. Please. I'll even give you right that if you see one that the next time you see me you can smack me on the back of the head for it.... Also I beg you to not abuse this power. I kind of like my head sometimes.


Well that about it for tonight. I'm going to post something I wrote earlier below. Please read it and tell me what you think. It's about the dangers of sin and eventually overcoming it. I hope you like it.