I think with all this getting rid of stuff, I am inadvertently becoming a buddhist.

spent this afternoon introducing j to the comedic genius that was mitch hedberg. goddamn that man was funny. so terribly sad he’s dead, and even worse that there’s no chance in hell of me finding any of his shows on dvd here in the u.k. if you ever saw him do standup, you can just picture the deadpan monotone slacker-style delivery of his jokes. these had tears streaming out of my eyes…

There is a commercial on late-night TV for this thing you attach to a garden hose. It says, “You can water your hard-to-reach plants with this product.” Who the fuck would make their plants hard to reach!? That seems so very mean. “I know you need water, but I’m gonna make you hard to reach. I will throw water at you. Hopefully, they will invent a product before you shrivel and die. Think like a cactus!” This product was available for four easy payments of $19.95. I would like a product that was available for three easy payments and one fucking complicated payment. We can’t tell you which payment it is, but one of these payments is going to be a bitch. The mailman will get shot to death, the envelope will not seal, and the stamp will be in the wrong denomination. Good luck, fucker. The last payment must be made in wampum!

This one time I was in a convenience store, and a guy came up and asked me, “What’s the score?” and I said, “What is the game? If it’s a competition between me and you, and the object is to ask the other guy questions he doesn’t give a shit about, then you are winning, one to nothing.”

I bought a doughnut from a store and they gave me a receipt for the doughnut. I don’t need a receipt for the doughnut. Man, I’ll just give you money, then you give me the doughnut. End of transaction. We don’t need to bring ink and paper into this. I just can’t imagine a scenario where I would have to prove that I bought a doughnut. Some skeptical friend: “Don’t even act like I didn’t get that doughnut, I’ve got the documentation right here. Oh wait, it’s at home, in the file… under D… for doughnut”

You know they call corn-on-the-cob “corn-on-the-cob,” but that’s how it comes out of the ground, man. They should call that “corn,” and call every other version “corn-off-the-cob.” It’s not like if you cut off my arm you would call it “Mitch,” then reattach it and call me “Mitch-all-together”.

I went to the park and saw this kid flying a kite. The kid was really excited. I don’t know why; that’s what they’re supposed to do. Now if he had had a chair on the other end of that string, I would have been impressed. Imagine trying to fly a chair. You’d have to run like a motherfucker.

In England, Smokey the Bear is not the forest fire prevention representative. They have Smackie the Frog. It’s just like a bear, but it’s a frog. I think it’s a better system; I think we should adopt it. Because bears can be mean, but frogs are always cool. Never has there been a frog hopping toward me, and I thought, “Man, here comes that frog…I’d better play dead.” You never say, “Here comes that frog” in a terrified manner. It’s always optimistic, like, “Hey, here comes that frog, all right. Maybe he will settle near me so I can pet him, and stick him in a mayonnaise jar.. with a stick and a leaf.. to recreate what he’s used to. And I’d certainly have to punch some holes in the lid, because he’s damn sure used to air. Then I can observe him, and he won’t be doing much in his 16-ounce world.”

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