Train howls in the distance.
Sipping beer on the porch.
I'm somewhere between
and a cell phone holster.
Train howls in the distance.
Sipping beer on the porch.
for the blackbirds
who caw at steel trucks
from the fingers of trees,
sharpening their beaks
on blades of grass,
Jokes are crazy little critters
that can bring people joy,
offend them or,
in most cases,
just get swept away
in the cyber winds of time.
There’s something kinky about hoses.
Can’t wait to meet my daughter’s boyfriends and destroy them with bad jokes.
That horrible guy that shot up the doggy day care with a semi automatic chocolate gun.
If earth’s life was compressed into one year, human beings would appear at 11:35pm on New Year’s eve and they’d be trying to get a sloppy kiss.
When you look up at all those distant shining stars and think, “Damn… I forgot to take those clothes out of the washer.”
Sax is like pizza. Even when it’s bad, it’s pretty good with Springsteen.
With a heavy heart, I had to take a shit in your bathtub.
I envision an America where no one pays extra for Guacamole.
As a kid, I played alone in the tunnel behind my house. A little game called “The Last Pringle.”
Buy my album and 100% of the proceeds go towards making the next album that I will pressure you to buy.
It breaks my heart when I see a soldier come home from war to his family cause we need that guy out there killing people.
What would Jesus do? Probably something amazing or brave cause he has superpowers, but not everyone can walk on water and do magic.
It’s quiet simple, Watson. I knew he was the murderer by the way he stabbed his Capri Sun.
There was a killer commute working from home today. My daughter left her ponies on the stairs.
There was nothing we could do, sir. The place went up in smoke when Brad Pitt got an erection.
Slow down and package those gifts carefully, Eric. This is not a wrap battle.
Life Hack: If you can’t afford a white noise machine, sleep next to seashells.
Hipster bartenders are like cats. You have to ignore them to get service.
Free Bird: Another classic tune about shitting in the sky.
It was the best of times. It was the worst of diarrhea.
Disappointingly, breakfast at Tiffany’s was cold cereal.
Wikipedia: Hey can you spare a few bucks for progress?
People: Yes, but I don’t have my wallet on me right now.
Has anyone found a blue coin purse full of jellybeans?
An old early worm is one tough fucking worm.
I liked Rubik’s early work, like the Sphere.
I’m just peachy. How you like them apples?
Sometimes you just gotta bite the snake.
Spelling is hrad.
Tarzan was well hung.
I remember a time when people set clocks.
Hey Chewbacca, can I get one of those Tic Tacs?
You guys are looking at me like I’m some jerk who doesn’t leave Amazon reviews.
It’s cool that firetrucks are helping people, but I wish they didn’t have to tell everybody.
While we were out of town, a cat burglar broke into our house, scratched up the carpet & drank all the milk.
I’m like Vincent Van Gogh, without the burden of being unforgettably talented.
Why does everybody hate Monday? It’s one of the top ten days of the week.
The Beatles and the Stones are like apples and oranges. Very similar.
He’s the best I tell you, a real natural born plastic surgeon.
My cool, calm demeanor crumbles in the checkout line.
It’s crazy how some people think everything is crazy.
Crap. I accidently clicked “Skip Ad ».”
I feel better now that I’ve said this.
Some key takeaways from Zara Brach’s wonderful book, Radical Acceptance: Embracing Your Life with the Heart of a Buddha.
Babies are like transistor radios. You have to keep moving them around to get good reception.
Dry cleaning makes about as much sense as desert drowning.
The opposite of a cold front is a pair of sideburns.
If pigs could fly, I could eat ham wings.
The voices in my head get a bad rap.
The last thing I want to do is die.
Last week, I took a Rapid Software Testing Applied (RSTA) course from James Bach. It was a fantastic, three-day intensive about managing complexity and doing quality, creative work under stress and time constraints.
I believe these methods can be applied to any type of learning and process improvement, whether it’s writing jokes/music, learning a programming language, exercising, improving relationships, etc.
Here are some RST takeaways I don’t want to forget:
I washed my socks and they shrank.
Now my feet get hugs.
My heart is a cone-shaped muscle
How cool is that?
If I was a BB,
I would sleep
in a dimple.
Your daddy issues are not as bad as your dad’s daddy issues.
My best childhood friend shot himself with a digital camera.
I don’t think I’m better than anybody, except people who ride segways.
Nothing makes my skin crawl like walking down a long hallway towards anybody else.
Rock n Roll peaked in the 70s - 1971, Stairway to Heaven, 1979, Highway to Hell - and by the 80s, Rock was Living on a Prayer.
My doctor says I can’t sleep at night because I have insomnia, which is like saying, “You can’t sleep at night because you can’t sleep at night.”
Lean in to pressure.
This blog just turned two years old. This is my 250th post.
It’s been great writing regularly on self-improvement, health, workflow optimization, and experimenting with fables, poems, jokes and more.
This blog doesn’t have a cohesive theme like the blogs I read. Perhaps I’ll get there one day. For now, it mirrors my curiosities and obsessions, my life’s work with family, health and art.
Thanks very much for reading these posts. I always love to hear readers’ thoughts, positive or negative, so don’t be shy and email me.
Here’s to the next two years!
Fifteen to twenty bikers showed up at the comedy open mic last week. They were shouting at the performers. It was interesting to get up and give it a go under such chaotic circumstances. At times like these, you can’t just do your jokes and pretend insanity isn’t happening. You have to acknowledge the room.
I enjoyed my five minutes on stage. Those guys kept me on my toes. I didn’t sense any hostility from them. They were there to have a good time and participate, even if it was a bit obnoxious.
I’m throwing this recording up to document the experience. I’ve been trying to move away from memorization and break down “the fourth wall” more. Hecklers give you the opportunity to do just that - drop the script and pivot!
I’m grateful for this opportunity and enjoyed performing for these guys. I think I won them over by the end.
Next time, I’ll try to curse less and still keep control of the room.
You can check out the recording here.
There was an old log farmhouse next to a thick dark forest. On the farm grew fresh lettuce, peppers and pumpkins. In the forest lived a yellow cat in a tree stump.
The cat was the biggest, strongest creature around. When other cats came near the farm, the yellow cat would scratch off pieces of their ears and send them on their way.
The cat was fast as rain. When he was hungry, he caught farm mice easily and ate them. When he was thirsty, he sipped crystal water from a stream that ran through the forest. The cat had everything he needed. Or so he thought.
One day the cat wandered into the dark crawl space beneath the farmhouse. He had never been here before. He found a small room in the corner of the crawl space. The room was filled with books, string and other tools the cat had never seen before. The cat start flipping through the pages of a book.
“Do you like to read?” a small voice called out behind him.
The cat turned and saw a tiny, gray mouse with only three legs. The cat was surprised. Mice always ran from him. He drank in the sight of this curious mouse and then laughed.
“Read?” the cat roared. “When you’re as strong and fast as me, you don’t need to read!” The cat laughed again, louder than before.
The mouse remained still, his eyes steady. When the cat’s laughter subsided, the mouse replied, “When you’re as small and slow as me, knowledge is power.”
The cat was taken aback. No creature had spoken to him with such authority before. The cat leaned in close to the mouse and grinned widely, showing his sharp, yellow teeth. He ran one of his razor sharp claws along the mouse’s cheek and hissed, “I could eat you and your knowledge right now.”
The mouse did not flinch. The cat blinked a few times, turned and meandered out of the crawl space, muttering, “Who wants to eat a chewy old three-legged mouse anyway.”
That summer there was a terrible drought. It didn’t rain for days, weeks, a whole month. The stream that flowed through the forest dried up. The cat became thirsty. When the farm sprinklers came on, the cat would try to catch water in his mouth but it was not enough to quench his thirst. The cat searched the forest and farmland high and low but found no water.
The cat grew so weak and dizzy that he accepted his fate. Death was near. He crawled through the tall grass to die in a clearing.
There before him stood a tall glass pitcher with water inside. The cat perked up. He leaped onto the pitcher and dipped his face inside. The water was too low. He couldn’t reach it. He tried flicking his tongue but the water was too far down.
The cat started pushing the pitcher with all his might, trying to knock it over, but he had grown weak and the pitcher was heavy.
Suddenly, the three-legged mouse came sauntering into the clearing, whistling brightly. The mouse watched the cat pushing the vase with his wise, steady eyes and said, “You know, even if you do manage to knock that pitcher over, you’ll only get a few drops of water before it evaporates. Then you’ll be back where you started.”
The cat’s heart sank. He knew the mouse was right. He collapsed on the dirt. “Well, where are you getting your water!?” he shouted angrily at the mouse.
“I have studied the farmer and the house,” replied the mouse. “I come and go as I please. I may not be strong or fast, but I know how to get plenty of water and food because I work smarter, not harder.”
The cat started weeping on the dirt, which dehydrated him even more. He was ready to die. The mouse picked up a small pebble and threw it into the pitcher with a splash. “Think about it, my friend,” the mouse said. “There may be a solution to your problem if you work smarter, not harder. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to pee. I must’ve had too much of the farmer’s water.”
With that, the mouse left the cat to stare at the pitcher long and hard. After several moments, the cat noticed the water level had risen ever so slightly. He looked at the pebble in the water. He picked up another pebble and threw it into the pitcher. Splash. The water level rose.
The cat leaped to his feet and started throwing more pebbles and rocks into the pitcher. The water rose higher and higher, to the top of the pitcher. The cat dipped his head in and took a sip of water. He emerged smiling, wiping the moisture from his whiskers and exclaimed, “Ahhhhh!”
The cat had never felt so satisfied. The water had not only hydrated his body. It had quenched his hidden thirst for knowledge.
The cat ran excitedly to the mouse’s house in the crawl space and gave him an affectionate lick. “Thank you, thank you!” he exclaimed. “I now see the error of my ways.”
The cat and mouse became friends. The mouse taught the cat to read books on software, philosophy, history and more. The following year, the cat and mouse moved to San Francisco and started a software company called “The Thirsty Cat.” The company was an instant hit. After two years, they sold the company to Google for an enormous sum of money.
Now the cat and mouse spend their days reading books by a crystal swimming pool in their California home, sipping fresh lemonade, working smarter not harder.
Loosely based on Aesop’s Fable, “The Crow and the Pitcher.”
When Ben Franklin was president of the United States, he said, “I wasn’t president.”
Focus on heart, breath and toes.
Take care of what’s inside.
The rest follows.