Lindy West and Jim Norton debate rape jokes
from this week's Totally Biased
http://t.co/QGze23Yda8
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Friday, May 31, 2013
Portrait of a Feminist Comedian
After getting such a positive response to my piece “The Subtle Oppression of Women by Comedy” by female and male comics and engaging in so many interesting discussions with male comics afterward, I realized that more needed to be said about this subject. (If you haven’t read the piece, please do. I bring up things in it that I don’t address here as so not to repeat). I realized that while all female comics know what happens to us on a regular basis, many men have no idea what is going on. So, I thought I would share a small example of things that I have faced as a woman in comedy that you may or may not be shocked to read (or give a shit about).
Being a feminist is hard. Being a comedian is harder. Being a feminist comedian is almost fucking impossible. Louis CK said that feminists and comedians are natural enemies, which I guess means I don't exist. Damn it, Louis. I was sure I existed.
A lot of comics have pet subjects they like to address. A lot of comics are political like I am sometimes. I have a friend who is very interested in the Fed (Federal Reserve) and he talks about it a lot in his act because it is important to him and he wants to educate people while making them laugh. Feminism, fighting for the rights of women and all people, is important to me and is my pet subject because of what I have experienced in my life. I am pro-woman. I am NOT anti-man. Don’t take it so personally. It’s not about you. It’s about the struggle.
Comedy is different. When women in comedy get sexually harassed, groped, attacked, discriminated against, we have no HR we can report it to. We can’t cry “hostile work environment,” get someone fired or sue anyone for mistreatment, nor do we want to. Female comics get that this is not a normal business. We have to roll with the punches, and, damn it, we do. But, just like men don’t want to be silenced, women do not want to be silenced either. Free speech goes both ways. I, in no way, claim to speak for all women. Women are very different, just as all people are different. A lot of women completely disagree with the things I say and write. That’s ok. I get that. This is about my experience.
Here is my story…
I started doing stand-up comedy when I was 19 years old in college on a theatre scholarship (25 years ago). After I graduated, I did comedy on the road full-time for about seven years up and down the East Coast, in about 14 states regularly. It was seven years of sharing comedy condos in unsafe neighborhoods (and sharing bathrooms) with two men I had never met before in my life (I know of no other profession where that would happen). Seven years of having gigs canceled at the last minute because “We already have a chick. We don’t want two chicks in one week.” Seven years of being sexually harassed by club owners and other comics at the gig or in the condo. Only once did I perform with two women (even one woman was rare), and one of them told me about being attacked in a comedy condo by the headliner. She had the whole thing on tape because she was working on her set and her recorder was on. Like the woman in my other piece, she never reported it. I bought a gun.
Three different times while I was on the road, I was attacked on stage by a man in the audience. All three times the man ran on stage and grabbed my boobs and crotch in front of the whole room. All three times, the comedy clubs did NOTHING. The third time, the man was wearing a gorilla suit (which was scary as fuck for me) and the audience thought it was part of my act. Because why wouldn’t it be? At first, when I was very young, I waited for the club to do something. I thought surely they would not tolerate me being assaulted in their club as their employee. I thought wrong. I punched the gorilla in the face as hard as I could and he ran away, screaming. The audience was wondering where the funny part was. So was I. Unfortunately, that happened at the beginning of my set and I had to do about ½ hour of jokes after a strange man groped me in front of everyone in a crowded room. I was 25.
I moved to Los Angeles from Athens, GA in 1998 because I couldn’t take being on the road anymore. Living in one place was weird for a while, but I became immersed in the comedy scene in LA. The numbers were better here; about 25% of comics are female. But still, it’s not uncommon to be the only girl in a show (or in the room period during an open mic). I got used to being the lone girl in the room with about 20 men with guy after guy going on stage and telling jokes about rape, violence against women, “ugly girls,” “fat chicks,” “bitches” and “whores.” Then I would walk to my car in the dark after, wondering why I kept going. But I kept going. (There are lots of great male comics out there who make jokes about none of those things. It can just feel overwhelming sometimes)
Last year, I was approached online by a male comedy club owner and manager of a famous comedian. He asked to see my comedy. I was excited. I directed him to a ton of video and audio on me. He said he didn't want that, but wanted to Skype with me. I told him I was unable to do that. He said he was in search of the world's "funniest shaved vagina" and asked me if I shave. I refused to answer. I tried to keep the conversation about comedy because I thought he really did want to book me, and was just the usual crude booker with no class. When I continued to refuse to Skype with him (in the middle of the damn night), he began to go on a two hour Twitter rant about me, publicly calling me hack. I have been called a lot of things in my life, but never a hack. I blocked him on Twitter and literally cried all night. The next day, he went on Facebook and posted about me, saying he had offered to give me advice on my comedy and that he had called me a hack and that I had freaked out on him because I could not take criticism. I sent him a private message that read: “Perhaps I should post our entire Twitter private message exchange on your Facebook wall so your wife and everyone else can read it.” Surprise surprise: he took down the post. (Both my husband and another comic who was with us read the entire “shaved vagina” private message exchange)
When Daniel Tosh had his incident at the Laugh Factory with the female heckler in which he said something to the effect of, “Wouldn’t it be funny if that girl got raped by like 5 guys right now? Like right now? What if a bunch of guys just raped her…” I wrote about it because I felt it was important to not only shine a light on rape jokes in general (I feel that rape jokes perpetuate the dismissal of violence against women in our culture and make the brutal act of rape literally a joke), but also to point out that this particular response felt like an incitement to violence. Whereas so many male and female comics came out against Michael Richards calling a heckler a “nigger” and saying that “40 years ago we would have strung you up in a tree,” that did not happen with Tosh. I was attacked online and called a “cunt” and a “feminazi” by strangers and men I knew for my comments because allegedly, I, who make my living telling jokes, am against free speech. That’s ok. I’m a comic. I can take it. The point is that NO ONE, BUT NO ONE ever suggested censoring jokes. No one. We aren’t trying to censor you. We are just asking you to think. Just because you CAN say anything you want, doesn’t mean you SHOULD. By the way, there are rape jokes out there that shine light on the subject, do not victim-blame and do not condone rape. Those are not the ones I am talking about. Some jokes slay demons. Some feed them. A bully wrapped in rubber chicken is still a bully.
Then I decided to share my own rape story online because, after watching Joe Rogan and Jamie Kilstein on Rogan’s podcast, I felt that men will never believe the 1-in-4 rape statistic if more women don’t speak up to their male friends and share their experiences. So, terrified, I tweeted about being raped when I was very young and told everyone my horror on Twitter. The tweet was clearly not a joke. Then, much to my surprise, a male comic I sort of knew replied to my tweet: “Bobbie, rape is not about sex. It’s about 5 minutes.”
It’s hard to express what I felt. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t stop crying. I couldn’t sleep for days. In fact, when I typed that sentence above (his joke) a year after the fact, I got so upset, I had to get up from my computer for several hours before I could come back to this blog post. 5 minutes?! 5 minutes?! I can not conceive children because I was raped, and doctors believe that if I did, I would not be able to carry the baby to term. I have wanted a baby my entire life and I can’t have one. When is my 5 minutes up?? And, yes, I know. It was a joke. A rape joke told to a known rape victim. If you write and post rape jokes as a response to rape victims expressing how rape jokes make them feel, is it really about free speech at that point? Seriously, ask yourself: What is my investment in rape culture? Why does telling rape jokes in the face of rape victims mean so much to me? You may think to yourself that you would never do that. But Comics, ONE IN FOUR WOMEN IN YOUR AUDIENCE HAS BEEN SEXUALLY ASSAULTED. Count the female faces. 1 in 4 of them picture their rape when you tell a rape joke and feel diminished and trivialized by you in front of a room full of people and may be less likely to report their attack if they feel they are scrutinized or a joke. The Stubenville boys felt validated by rape jokes.
I hear a lot of guys like Eddie Brill and Adam Carolla say that women aren’t funny. Eddie Brill said that women aren’t authentic and go on stage and act like men. Carolla said that women have mediocre senses of humor and are the least funny in the writer’s room. I have spoken out against them both publicly (and had a very lengthy private discussion with Eddie Brill who asked that I not print his comments here in this blog) and the idea that there is “female comedy” or “male comedy.” Individuals express themselves on stage and their genitalia has nothing to do with it. Hitler was not a white male mass murderer that all white males are to be compared to. Neither is Dane Cook. They are individuals. This topic is important to me to speak out on because it hurts women in the industry in our already limited role. Also, I feel that as an elder female comic in the biz, it is my job to stand up for women and be a mentor for young female comics, some who are considering giving up comedy or afraid to pick up a mic to begin with. Many young female comics have come to me and said they felt empowered by me fighting for the cause. To me, that makes it all worth it.
Recently, I saw that a funny male comic I followed on Twitter tweeted that he did not find women funny at the same rate as men. Actually, he tweeted a joke that a woman said if he didn’t find women funny, he must be dumb and he said she must be a whore or something like that. I was not offended by the joke at all, but curious if he really felt that about female comics. I engaged him (because I am a glutton for punishment, I guess) and the discussion quickly escalated into a huge argument. I felt I was being civil. I’m sure he felt the same. Probably neither of us were. I said something to the effect of: Women aren’t funny? Are Mexicans lazy and will black people rob you? Maybe that doesn’t seem civil, but I made the comparison of sexism to racism because I believe they are similar and often people can more easily recognize racism as wrong. That comparison made him really mad. After having a long discussion that just went around in circles, I tried several times to disengage, saying things like “we can agree to disagree” but he was relentless. Finally, in my frustration, I tweeted: “In conclusion, fuck you” and I blocked him. Then it occurred to me a few minutes later that he probably never saw that last tweet because I blocked him and that it was basically bravado on my part and would look like me trying to be tough to someone who couldn’t even read the tweet which didn’t seem fair. So I deleted it. He, evidently, did see the tweet and because I had tweeted afterward that “No matter how civil a woman is in an argument, she is the one who is called crazy” (or something like that), it infuriated him that I had deleted the “fuck you” tweet. In hindsight, I completely understand that.
What happened next is important in this tale of women in comedy. The next day, I woke up to a tag from him on Facebook (and a comic friend of mine writing to alert me to the post) and a ton of comments on a status he had posted about me. He was livid and he was taking it to Facebook. Fine, whatever. I can deal. I’m a comic. His friends starting calling me a “dumb cunt.” I insisted I am a smart cunt! Then, I was called a “whore.” I replied, “Just ask me out already! The sexual tension is killing me!” They were dissing me for teaching comedy (I am used to that from people who have NO idea what I do in my workshops) and then male comics who have sent me pics of their dicks before went on to comment things like “Don’t get me started on comedy teachers!” The comic in question said I was unfunny and then several people came to my defense, including a friend of his who had Googled my videos. Then they decided I was a funny cunt. Small victories.
Hours later, it got worse. A friend of the comic posted my phone number on the Facebook post (he had gotten it from my resume) and told the guy he should find me and go fuck me. The comic replied, “If I fuck her do you think I can get a discount on her comedy class?” If you are a man reading this, you may not think much of it. But, to a woman, this reads: let’s shut this woman up and give her what’s coming to her for daring to speak up. That’s when I had Facebook take the post down. I can handle being called a dumb cunt, but posting my personal information and telling people to go find me and fuck me is terrifying and over the fucking line. (Maybe posting this here is starting more shit with him, but he posted about me on his blog and called me out by name. I am not doing that to him.)
Am I really afraid? You’re damn right I am. Why? I have been attacked by many men in my life, in and out of comedy… by strangers, friends, audience members and comics. Not only have I been raped more than once, I have been beaten up by a boyfriend and witnessed my sister in an extremely physically abusive marriage (in which one day she called the cops and they told her to “make him dinner.” That man is now in prison for murdering his 3rd wife – not my sister- while their child played video games in the next room. He got 15 years. Some drug dealers get more than that. I raised the child my sister had with him).
I have had a few stalkers in my life as a comic. I have a guy on Twitter who keeps creating new pages with different names, pics, bios, etc and poses as different people, sometimes male, sometimes female. I block him and then he follows me as someone else and then when I develop and online “friendship” aka Twitter exchange, he reveals himself to be my stalker and freaks me out again. I have no idea what city or state he lives in. For all I know, he is my next door neighbor. I have a male comic stalker who is mentally ill and dislikes taking his meds. He attacked me verbally a few times at shows (Whatever. I can deal. I’m a comic) and then tried to attack me physically at an open mic. He began by yelling, “Bobbie, it’s me! I just want to talk to you.” When I backed away and he lunged at me, three male comics stepped in and held him back as he still kept trying to get to me, pushing and yelling “Bobbie is a fucking cunt! Bobbie is a fucking cunt!” I ran out the back door and drove home. Not only did the open mic not throw him out, they served him a cup of coffee! ‘Cause, you know, psychos need more caffeine. He has shown up at my gigs and stood by my car staring at me until I was so afraid to get out of my car, I just drove away. I went to the LA County Courthouse to get a restraining order and found out they were $400 and took all day. At the end of the day with mountains of paperwork in hand and my $400, the restraining order was denied because the coffee house did not call the police. When I left crying, a Sherriff came out to the hall and trying to comfort me said, “The LAPD never responds to restraining order calls anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.” Wow. I feel better. I bought mace, a knife and a baseball bat.
These are just a few examples of things I have experienced that I felt should be shared. The stories are not atypical. They are not mine alone. I have more stories like this and so do all female comics. Men have their stories, too, and those should be shared, as well. This was mine.
So, you keep talking and writing about things that matter to you, and I will do the same. I get feedback when I put something out there and you should expect to, as well. Let’s challenge each other to think about what we are saying and let’s try to have some empathy for other people’s experiences. And, if you use comedy to bully victims, I will check you on it. ‘Cause that’s my job.
Being a feminist is hard. Being a comedian is harder. Being a feminist comedian is almost fucking impossible. Louis CK said that feminists and comedians are natural enemies, which I guess means I don't exist. Damn it, Louis. I was sure I existed.
A lot of comics have pet subjects they like to address. A lot of comics are political like I am sometimes. I have a friend who is very interested in the Fed (Federal Reserve) and he talks about it a lot in his act because it is important to him and he wants to educate people while making them laugh. Feminism, fighting for the rights of women and all people, is important to me and is my pet subject because of what I have experienced in my life. I am pro-woman. I am NOT anti-man. Don’t take it so personally. It’s not about you. It’s about the struggle.
Comedy is different. When women in comedy get sexually harassed, groped, attacked, discriminated against, we have no HR we can report it to. We can’t cry “hostile work environment,” get someone fired or sue anyone for mistreatment, nor do we want to. Female comics get that this is not a normal business. We have to roll with the punches, and, damn it, we do. But, just like men don’t want to be silenced, women do not want to be silenced either. Free speech goes both ways. I, in no way, claim to speak for all women. Women are very different, just as all people are different. A lot of women completely disagree with the things I say and write. That’s ok. I get that. This is about my experience.
Here is my story…
I started doing stand-up comedy when I was 19 years old in college on a theatre scholarship (25 years ago). After I graduated, I did comedy on the road full-time for about seven years up and down the East Coast, in about 14 states regularly. It was seven years of sharing comedy condos in unsafe neighborhoods (and sharing bathrooms) with two men I had never met before in my life (I know of no other profession where that would happen). Seven years of having gigs canceled at the last minute because “We already have a chick. We don’t want two chicks in one week.” Seven years of being sexually harassed by club owners and other comics at the gig or in the condo. Only once did I perform with two women (even one woman was rare), and one of them told me about being attacked in a comedy condo by the headliner. She had the whole thing on tape because she was working on her set and her recorder was on. Like the woman in my other piece, she never reported it. I bought a gun.
Three different times while I was on the road, I was attacked on stage by a man in the audience. All three times the man ran on stage and grabbed my boobs and crotch in front of the whole room. All three times, the comedy clubs did NOTHING. The third time, the man was wearing a gorilla suit (which was scary as fuck for me) and the audience thought it was part of my act. Because why wouldn’t it be? At first, when I was very young, I waited for the club to do something. I thought surely they would not tolerate me being assaulted in their club as their employee. I thought wrong. I punched the gorilla in the face as hard as I could and he ran away, screaming. The audience was wondering where the funny part was. So was I. Unfortunately, that happened at the beginning of my set and I had to do about ½ hour of jokes after a strange man groped me in front of everyone in a crowded room. I was 25.
I moved to Los Angeles from Athens, GA in 1998 because I couldn’t take being on the road anymore. Living in one place was weird for a while, but I became immersed in the comedy scene in LA. The numbers were better here; about 25% of comics are female. But still, it’s not uncommon to be the only girl in a show (or in the room period during an open mic). I got used to being the lone girl in the room with about 20 men with guy after guy going on stage and telling jokes about rape, violence against women, “ugly girls,” “fat chicks,” “bitches” and “whores.” Then I would walk to my car in the dark after, wondering why I kept going. But I kept going. (There are lots of great male comics out there who make jokes about none of those things. It can just feel overwhelming sometimes)
Last year, I was approached online by a male comedy club owner and manager of a famous comedian. He asked to see my comedy. I was excited. I directed him to a ton of video and audio on me. He said he didn't want that, but wanted to Skype with me. I told him I was unable to do that. He said he was in search of the world's "funniest shaved vagina" and asked me if I shave. I refused to answer. I tried to keep the conversation about comedy because I thought he really did want to book me, and was just the usual crude booker with no class. When I continued to refuse to Skype with him (in the middle of the damn night), he began to go on a two hour Twitter rant about me, publicly calling me hack. I have been called a lot of things in my life, but never a hack. I blocked him on Twitter and literally cried all night. The next day, he went on Facebook and posted about me, saying he had offered to give me advice on my comedy and that he had called me a hack and that I had freaked out on him because I could not take criticism. I sent him a private message that read: “Perhaps I should post our entire Twitter private message exchange on your Facebook wall so your wife and everyone else can read it.” Surprise surprise: he took down the post. (Both my husband and another comic who was with us read the entire “shaved vagina” private message exchange)
When Daniel Tosh had his incident at the Laugh Factory with the female heckler in which he said something to the effect of, “Wouldn’t it be funny if that girl got raped by like 5 guys right now? Like right now? What if a bunch of guys just raped her…” I wrote about it because I felt it was important to not only shine a light on rape jokes in general (I feel that rape jokes perpetuate the dismissal of violence against women in our culture and make the brutal act of rape literally a joke), but also to point out that this particular response felt like an incitement to violence. Whereas so many male and female comics came out against Michael Richards calling a heckler a “nigger” and saying that “40 years ago we would have strung you up in a tree,” that did not happen with Tosh. I was attacked online and called a “cunt” and a “feminazi” by strangers and men I knew for my comments because allegedly, I, who make my living telling jokes, am against free speech. That’s ok. I’m a comic. I can take it. The point is that NO ONE, BUT NO ONE ever suggested censoring jokes. No one. We aren’t trying to censor you. We are just asking you to think. Just because you CAN say anything you want, doesn’t mean you SHOULD. By the way, there are rape jokes out there that shine light on the subject, do not victim-blame and do not condone rape. Those are not the ones I am talking about. Some jokes slay demons. Some feed them. A bully wrapped in rubber chicken is still a bully.
Then I decided to share my own rape story online because, after watching Joe Rogan and Jamie Kilstein on Rogan’s podcast, I felt that men will never believe the 1-in-4 rape statistic if more women don’t speak up to their male friends and share their experiences. So, terrified, I tweeted about being raped when I was very young and told everyone my horror on Twitter. The tweet was clearly not a joke. Then, much to my surprise, a male comic I sort of knew replied to my tweet: “Bobbie, rape is not about sex. It’s about 5 minutes.”
It’s hard to express what I felt. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t stop crying. I couldn’t sleep for days. In fact, when I typed that sentence above (his joke) a year after the fact, I got so upset, I had to get up from my computer for several hours before I could come back to this blog post. 5 minutes?! 5 minutes?! I can not conceive children because I was raped, and doctors believe that if I did, I would not be able to carry the baby to term. I have wanted a baby my entire life and I can’t have one. When is my 5 minutes up?? And, yes, I know. It was a joke. A rape joke told to a known rape victim. If you write and post rape jokes as a response to rape victims expressing how rape jokes make them feel, is it really about free speech at that point? Seriously, ask yourself: What is my investment in rape culture? Why does telling rape jokes in the face of rape victims mean so much to me? You may think to yourself that you would never do that. But Comics, ONE IN FOUR WOMEN IN YOUR AUDIENCE HAS BEEN SEXUALLY ASSAULTED. Count the female faces. 1 in 4 of them picture their rape when you tell a rape joke and feel diminished and trivialized by you in front of a room full of people and may be less likely to report their attack if they feel they are scrutinized or a joke. The Stubenville boys felt validated by rape jokes.
I hear a lot of guys like Eddie Brill and Adam Carolla say that women aren’t funny. Eddie Brill said that women aren’t authentic and go on stage and act like men. Carolla said that women have mediocre senses of humor and are the least funny in the writer’s room. I have spoken out against them both publicly (and had a very lengthy private discussion with Eddie Brill who asked that I not print his comments here in this blog) and the idea that there is “female comedy” or “male comedy.” Individuals express themselves on stage and their genitalia has nothing to do with it. Hitler was not a white male mass murderer that all white males are to be compared to. Neither is Dane Cook. They are individuals. This topic is important to me to speak out on because it hurts women in the industry in our already limited role. Also, I feel that as an elder female comic in the biz, it is my job to stand up for women and be a mentor for young female comics, some who are considering giving up comedy or afraid to pick up a mic to begin with. Many young female comics have come to me and said they felt empowered by me fighting for the cause. To me, that makes it all worth it.
Recently, I saw that a funny male comic I followed on Twitter tweeted that he did not find women funny at the same rate as men. Actually, he tweeted a joke that a woman said if he didn’t find women funny, he must be dumb and he said she must be a whore or something like that. I was not offended by the joke at all, but curious if he really felt that about female comics. I engaged him (because I am a glutton for punishment, I guess) and the discussion quickly escalated into a huge argument. I felt I was being civil. I’m sure he felt the same. Probably neither of us were. I said something to the effect of: Women aren’t funny? Are Mexicans lazy and will black people rob you? Maybe that doesn’t seem civil, but I made the comparison of sexism to racism because I believe they are similar and often people can more easily recognize racism as wrong. That comparison made him really mad. After having a long discussion that just went around in circles, I tried several times to disengage, saying things like “we can agree to disagree” but he was relentless. Finally, in my frustration, I tweeted: “In conclusion, fuck you” and I blocked him. Then it occurred to me a few minutes later that he probably never saw that last tweet because I blocked him and that it was basically bravado on my part and would look like me trying to be tough to someone who couldn’t even read the tweet which didn’t seem fair. So I deleted it. He, evidently, did see the tweet and because I had tweeted afterward that “No matter how civil a woman is in an argument, she is the one who is called crazy” (or something like that), it infuriated him that I had deleted the “fuck you” tweet. In hindsight, I completely understand that.
What happened next is important in this tale of women in comedy. The next day, I woke up to a tag from him on Facebook (and a comic friend of mine writing to alert me to the post) and a ton of comments on a status he had posted about me. He was livid and he was taking it to Facebook. Fine, whatever. I can deal. I’m a comic. His friends starting calling me a “dumb cunt.” I insisted I am a smart cunt! Then, I was called a “whore.” I replied, “Just ask me out already! The sexual tension is killing me!” They were dissing me for teaching comedy (I am used to that from people who have NO idea what I do in my workshops) and then male comics who have sent me pics of their dicks before went on to comment things like “Don’t get me started on comedy teachers!” The comic in question said I was unfunny and then several people came to my defense, including a friend of his who had Googled my videos. Then they decided I was a funny cunt. Small victories.
Hours later, it got worse. A friend of the comic posted my phone number on the Facebook post (he had gotten it from my resume) and told the guy he should find me and go fuck me. The comic replied, “If I fuck her do you think I can get a discount on her comedy class?” If you are a man reading this, you may not think much of it. But, to a woman, this reads: let’s shut this woman up and give her what’s coming to her for daring to speak up. That’s when I had Facebook take the post down. I can handle being called a dumb cunt, but posting my personal information and telling people to go find me and fuck me is terrifying and over the fucking line. (Maybe posting this here is starting more shit with him, but he posted about me on his blog and called me out by name. I am not doing that to him.)
Am I really afraid? You’re damn right I am. Why? I have been attacked by many men in my life, in and out of comedy… by strangers, friends, audience members and comics. Not only have I been raped more than once, I have been beaten up by a boyfriend and witnessed my sister in an extremely physically abusive marriage (in which one day she called the cops and they told her to “make him dinner.” That man is now in prison for murdering his 3rd wife – not my sister- while their child played video games in the next room. He got 15 years. Some drug dealers get more than that. I raised the child my sister had with him).
I have had a few stalkers in my life as a comic. I have a guy on Twitter who keeps creating new pages with different names, pics, bios, etc and poses as different people, sometimes male, sometimes female. I block him and then he follows me as someone else and then when I develop and online “friendship” aka Twitter exchange, he reveals himself to be my stalker and freaks me out again. I have no idea what city or state he lives in. For all I know, he is my next door neighbor. I have a male comic stalker who is mentally ill and dislikes taking his meds. He attacked me verbally a few times at shows (Whatever. I can deal. I’m a comic) and then tried to attack me physically at an open mic. He began by yelling, “Bobbie, it’s me! I just want to talk to you.” When I backed away and he lunged at me, three male comics stepped in and held him back as he still kept trying to get to me, pushing and yelling “Bobbie is a fucking cunt! Bobbie is a fucking cunt!” I ran out the back door and drove home. Not only did the open mic not throw him out, they served him a cup of coffee! ‘Cause, you know, psychos need more caffeine. He has shown up at my gigs and stood by my car staring at me until I was so afraid to get out of my car, I just drove away. I went to the LA County Courthouse to get a restraining order and found out they were $400 and took all day. At the end of the day with mountains of paperwork in hand and my $400, the restraining order was denied because the coffee house did not call the police. When I left crying, a Sherriff came out to the hall and trying to comfort me said, “The LAPD never responds to restraining order calls anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.” Wow. I feel better. I bought mace, a knife and a baseball bat.
These are just a few examples of things I have experienced that I felt should be shared. The stories are not atypical. They are not mine alone. I have more stories like this and so do all female comics. Men have their stories, too, and those should be shared, as well. This was mine.
So, you keep talking and writing about things that matter to you, and I will do the same. I get feedback when I put something out there and you should expect to, as well. Let’s challenge each other to think about what we are saying and let’s try to have some empathy for other people’s experiences. And, if you use comedy to bully victims, I will check you on it. ‘Cause that’s my job.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Latest Rape Joke Debate
Global Comment on one comedian’s two rape jokes, and that comedian’s response
http://thecomicscomic.com/2013/05/06/global-comment-on-one-comedians-rape-jokes-and-that-comedians-response/
Jerry Lewis and The Man Problem: The Bullying of Women in Comedy
Jerry Lewis and The Man Problem: The Bullying of Women in Comedy
http://thecomicscomic.com/2013/05/23/jerry-lewis-and-the-man-problem-the-bullying-of-women-in-comedy/
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
The Subtle Oppression of Women by Comedy by Bobbie Oliver
I just finished writing my first official feminist piece for EveryDayVictimBlaming.com
So excited to be writing again and honored to be included in this project!
www.everydayvictimblaming.com/submissions/the-subtle-oppression-of-women-by-comedy/
So excited to be writing again and honored to be included in this project!
The Subtle Oppression of Women by Comedy
www.everydayvictimblaming.com/submissions/the-subtle-oppression-of-women-by-comedy/
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Female Comic Heckled and Fired
For everyone in my class who thinks I am exaggerating, another classic example of the ole "show us your tits."
http://jezebel.com/comedian-fired-after-hecklers-demand-she-show-her-tits-509032904
Comedian Fired After Hecklers Demand She Show Her Tits and Bush
http://jezebel.com/comedian-fired-after-hecklers-demand-she-show-her-tits-509032904
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Tell your rape jokes. Expect to be challenged on them.
By Cameron Esposito
If this link doesn't work, copy and paste cause it's worth it
cameronesposito.com/post/50931213775
If this link doesn't work, copy and paste cause it's worth it
cameronesposito.com/post/50931213775
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
My book
As you can probably tell from my 3 year blog gap, I have been writing a book: The Tao of Comedy - Embrace the Pause. The book has gone to print (yay!) and today is my first day off in 3 years. I plan to start writing and posting on this blog again. Just wanted to put that out there and actually post something to show I'm serious.Wasn't this fascinating? :)
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Feminism in Comedy
Guys, don't take feminism so personally. Pro-woman does not mean anti-man. If I am angry, it is in response to something that should anger you, too.
Was told 3 min of material in an hour set that respond to current issues is "a consistent theme of angry feminism" in my act- too angry & anti male.
Was told I use the worst examples of men, but the jokes were actual things men said to me or to the media. Women are not allowed to be angry against direct attacks? Male comics make jokes about their girlfriends, wives, exes or women they know, but they aren't perceived as angry. But women can't?
So when Bill Burr says we shouldn't talk about domestic violence because "we get it" that's not considered angry toward women? But I am?
Bottom line is when someone does or says something anti-women, I HAVE RIGHT TO BE ANGRY. Just like men have a right to be angry on stage. Gotta go write more feminist material now.
If I'm not supposed to talk about feminist issues or sex, look for my next cd about vacuuming & my mother-in-law.
Was told 3 min of material in an hour set that respond to current issues is "a consistent theme of angry feminism" in my act- too angry & anti male.
Was told I use the worst examples of men, but the jokes were actual things men said to me or to the media. Women are not allowed to be angry against direct attacks? Male comics make jokes about their girlfriends, wives, exes or women they know, but they aren't perceived as angry. But women can't?
So when Bill Burr says we shouldn't talk about domestic violence because "we get it" that's not considered angry toward women? But I am?
Bottom line is when someone does or says something anti-women, I HAVE RIGHT TO BE ANGRY. Just like men have a right to be angry on stage. Gotta go write more feminist material now.
If I'm not supposed to talk about feminist issues or sex, look for my next cd about vacuuming & my mother-in-law.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Jamie Kilstein vs Joe Rogan
The events that transpired between
Joe Rogan & Jamie Kilstein ... in addition to Tosh, Todd Akin &
Paul Ryan made me wonder how so few men are aware of the rape stats.
Women talk to me about their assaults all the time. But maybe we aren't sharing with enough men. Perhaps we need a National Rape Survivors Coming Out Day so we can put a face on this.
We need to report this to our partners, friends & families even if we never reported it to the police. Then they WILL know. I can't blame men for not believing the stats if they don't have faces to these numbers. Because when I hear 1 in 4 women are raped, I KNOW it's true. And so do most women.
I know it's painful, just like coming out is painful. But gay people put a face on their issues with THEIR faces. So should we.
Women talk to me about their assaults all the time. But maybe we aren't sharing with enough men. Perhaps we need a National Rape Survivors Coming Out Day so we can put a face on this.
We need to report this to our partners, friends & families even if we never reported it to the police. Then they WILL know. I can't blame men for not believing the stats if they don't have faces to these numbers. Because when I hear 1 in 4 women are raped, I KNOW it's true. And so do most women.
I know it's painful, just like coming out is painful. But gay people put a face on their issues with THEIR faces. So should we.
Girls Girls Girls
I'm so stressed out. I'm not sure if all my rapes were legitimate. Where's that darn paperwork??
As soon as I made the formal decision to abandon this blog, a little bird came chirping in my ear and told me I was needed. See, my people have come under attack lately, and not just by the usual suspects. I have been speaking out all over the place- on Facebook, Twitter, my podcast Psychedelicatessen Radio, in my act, in my book... everywhere but one united place that all of my opinions can be heard. So, thanks to Eddie Brill, Adam Carolla, Daniel Tosh, Christopher Hitchens, Mitt Romney, Todd Akin, Rick Santorum and all the other misogynists out there trying to take rights away from women or otherwise put us in our place, I am back on this blog. I will be sharing my thoughts as well as articles that I find interesting about whatever I feel like. My focus will be defending logic and sanity, not just in feminist issues but in gay rights and any political or non-political issue that interests me. I have noticed a lack of feminist role models or, at least, a lack of awareness of them. I want to show you where the support is and where the detractors are. But, mostly, I want to be the role model that I yearn for. More to come...
As soon as I made the formal decision to abandon this blog, a little bird came chirping in my ear and told me I was needed. See, my people have come under attack lately, and not just by the usual suspects. I have been speaking out all over the place- on Facebook, Twitter, my podcast Psychedelicatessen Radio, in my act, in my book... everywhere but one united place that all of my opinions can be heard. So, thanks to Eddie Brill, Adam Carolla, Daniel Tosh, Christopher Hitchens, Mitt Romney, Todd Akin, Rick Santorum and all the other misogynists out there trying to take rights away from women or otherwise put us in our place, I am back on this blog. I will be sharing my thoughts as well as articles that I find interesting about whatever I feel like. My focus will be defending logic and sanity, not just in feminist issues but in gay rights and any political or non-political issue that interests me. I have noticed a lack of feminist role models or, at least, a lack of awareness of them. I want to show you where the support is and where the detractors are. But, mostly, I want to be the role model that I yearn for. More to come...
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Abandoned Blog
I don't really use this blog anymore. For all of my jokes and ramblings, follow me on Twitter @TheBobbieOliver, and/or my Facebook fan page.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
New Potluck
I know it’s been a while. I am too busy to put all my new jokes on here, but I’ll give you a taste of what I’ve been working on.
I am a comic, so of course, I hate myself. It has always been that way. Once, when I was a baby, they caught me in my crib trying to cut my wrists with a pacifier.
My first words were, “I can’t take it anymore.”
Even as a baby, I was hitting the bottle way too hard.
I used to write suicide notes on my Etch-a-sketch. “Goodbye cruel mommy!”
I used to play with Suicide Barbie. She came with her own bathtub and razor blades.
I have never felt like I belong. Even the day I was born, I could sense the other babies in the nursery didn’t like me.
I tried to OD on Flintstone vitamins. But, instead, I just got this really healthy immune system.
Before I got married, I was, um what do you call it? A slut! I used to fill this hole in my heart with one-night stand after really awesome one-night stand. But, now that I am older, I can look back on that and see it for what it really was- the best fucking time of my entire life!! And, I miss it!
I’ve been with the same man for so long, I would act out any fantasy he wanted. But, I secretly hope his fantasy is to watch me fuck 20-year old boys!
I have a new relationship, well a textationship. My BFF Sally said, “You need to stop texting that little boy so much.” Yeah, she’s right. By the time we hook-up, his fingers will be useless!
Flattery will no longer get you everywhere. Now you have to put out.
Don’t ever make your stalker your boyfriend. It just causes him to lose interest.
I thought stalkers just freak out when you reject them. No, they freak when you pay attention to them, too.
Someone recently said to me, “That’s my curse; I always seem to hurt women.” Uh, dude, you aren’t cursed. You are just an asshole.
When a boy in his 20s says, “I’m not like the other guys,” that just means he is too young and stupid to know he is JUST like the other guys. Yeah, you’re a unique asshole.
Here’s a good mantra you are free to use if you ever need it:
At least I didn’t blow him. At least I didn’t blow him.
Sally told me this hot friend of ours said, “I used to want to hook-up with Bobbie, but then I met her husband. And, he is so cool! I could never do that to him.” Don’t ever let your boyfriend meet your husband. He will like him more than you! And that is the ultimate cock-block!
The sex drive of a 40-year old woman is TOTALLY different from a 40-year old man. I asked my husband for sex and he said, “Can’t we do it next week?” Next week?! Why not now, tomorrow AND next week? Is it morally wrong to slip someone Viagra in their coffee without their knowledge? Just wondering.
I have always had the sex drive of a 17-year old boy-even when I was a 17-year old girl. When I say, “I’ve been around,” I mean and back.
Success and stability are boring. I finally got my shit together and it bored me. So I had to fuck it up again.
I recently went back to GA and was going to see a bunch of old friends. I was worried about it because I had planned to lose weight before and, of course, I didn’t. My husband said, “Isn’t it enough that you are like 10 times more successful than all of them?” Uh, no! I want to be 10 times more s successful AND skinny! Is that too much to ask?
We went to my in-laws’ cabin in the woods. We could not find it anywhere, so we Google-mapped it. It came back, “Did you mean bumfuck?”
By the way, it was a 3 story cabin-mansion that looked like it had been professionally decorated…by a moose!
Have you ever been in the middle of a conversation with an old friend and then suddenly realized, “Oh shit! They have become a Republican!?” I felt like our weekend in the woods was the Healthcare Summit. We didn’t get any further than Congress.
I have a very addictive personality. You know why I’m not hooked on crack? Cause I have never tried crack! If I did, I’d be sucking dick in the alley in 15 minutes.
Before I went into rehab (at 16), I was 5’3”. When I came out, I was 5’ 2 ½ “. That ½ inch was my spirit.
I had to go to rehab because my mama found my pot when she was cleaning my room. By ‘found,’ I mean I had 3 joints hidden in the little pantaloons of a porcelain doll on my shell. Fuck, my mama should have been a maid for the CIA.
I have figured out a way to keep your kids off drugs. Do drugs! My kids think everything I do is uncool. I have raised a couple of little straight-edge nerds I would never hang around in high school. Mission accomplished!
I am a comic, so of course, I hate myself. It has always been that way. Once, when I was a baby, they caught me in my crib trying to cut my wrists with a pacifier.
My first words were, “I can’t take it anymore.”
Even as a baby, I was hitting the bottle way too hard.
I used to write suicide notes on my Etch-a-sketch. “Goodbye cruel mommy!”
I used to play with Suicide Barbie. She came with her own bathtub and razor blades.
I have never felt like I belong. Even the day I was born, I could sense the other babies in the nursery didn’t like me.
I tried to OD on Flintstone vitamins. But, instead, I just got this really healthy immune system.
Before I got married, I was, um what do you call it? A slut! I used to fill this hole in my heart with one-night stand after really awesome one-night stand. But, now that I am older, I can look back on that and see it for what it really was- the best fucking time of my entire life!! And, I miss it!
I’ve been with the same man for so long, I would act out any fantasy he wanted. But, I secretly hope his fantasy is to watch me fuck 20-year old boys!
I have a new relationship, well a textationship. My BFF Sally said, “You need to stop texting that little boy so much.” Yeah, she’s right. By the time we hook-up, his fingers will be useless!
Flattery will no longer get you everywhere. Now you have to put out.
Don’t ever make your stalker your boyfriend. It just causes him to lose interest.
I thought stalkers just freak out when you reject them. No, they freak when you pay attention to them, too.
Someone recently said to me, “That’s my curse; I always seem to hurt women.” Uh, dude, you aren’t cursed. You are just an asshole.
When a boy in his 20s says, “I’m not like the other guys,” that just means he is too young and stupid to know he is JUST like the other guys. Yeah, you’re a unique asshole.
Here’s a good mantra you are free to use if you ever need it:
At least I didn’t blow him. At least I didn’t blow him.
Sally told me this hot friend of ours said, “I used to want to hook-up with Bobbie, but then I met her husband. And, he is so cool! I could never do that to him.” Don’t ever let your boyfriend meet your husband. He will like him more than you! And that is the ultimate cock-block!
The sex drive of a 40-year old woman is TOTALLY different from a 40-year old man. I asked my husband for sex and he said, “Can’t we do it next week?” Next week?! Why not now, tomorrow AND next week? Is it morally wrong to slip someone Viagra in their coffee without their knowledge? Just wondering.
I have always had the sex drive of a 17-year old boy-even when I was a 17-year old girl. When I say, “I’ve been around,” I mean and back.
Success and stability are boring. I finally got my shit together and it bored me. So I had to fuck it up again.
I recently went back to GA and was going to see a bunch of old friends. I was worried about it because I had planned to lose weight before and, of course, I didn’t. My husband said, “Isn’t it enough that you are like 10 times more successful than all of them?” Uh, no! I want to be 10 times more s successful AND skinny! Is that too much to ask?
We went to my in-laws’ cabin in the woods. We could not find it anywhere, so we Google-mapped it. It came back, “Did you mean bumfuck?”
By the way, it was a 3 story cabin-mansion that looked like it had been professionally decorated…by a moose!
Have you ever been in the middle of a conversation with an old friend and then suddenly realized, “Oh shit! They have become a Republican!?” I felt like our weekend in the woods was the Healthcare Summit. We didn’t get any further than Congress.
I have a very addictive personality. You know why I’m not hooked on crack? Cause I have never tried crack! If I did, I’d be sucking dick in the alley in 15 minutes.
Before I went into rehab (at 16), I was 5’3”. When I came out, I was 5’ 2 ½ “. That ½ inch was my spirit.
I had to go to rehab because my mama found my pot when she was cleaning my room. By ‘found,’ I mean I had 3 joints hidden in the little pantaloons of a porcelain doll on my shell. Fuck, my mama should have been a maid for the CIA.
I have figured out a way to keep your kids off drugs. Do drugs! My kids think everything I do is uncool. I have raised a couple of little straight-edge nerds I would never hang around in high school. Mission accomplished!
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Spring Potluck
I am obsessed with my career. Once, I had a really bad one night stand, and I thought to myself, “Well, at least I got a good tape out of it!”
What I want to know is, who do you have to fuck in this town to make it? Jerry Seinfeld? I would totally blow Jerry! And then afterwards, we could eat some cereal.
I hate it when I perform and the person I’m with doesn’t tell me I was funny. Sometimes I will just come out and ask, “I was really funny, right?” And so often the person says, “Of course. That goes without saying.” What? No it doesn’t. Say it god damn it. Say it! A compliment never goes without saying.
Once I got off stage and this guy I was with said, “Some of your stuff was good tonight.” I’m like, “Some of it?” He goes, “Well, I’m just being honest.” Really? Cause I don’t remember asking you your fucking honest opinion on my act or anything else! The only thing I want to hear when I get off stage is, “You were awesome.” And maybe, “You are beautiful. I want to have sex with you.” Anything else, goes without saying!
I used to work at Pasadena City College. One day, a teacher came into my office and slid a Christian pamphlet across my desk and said, "The Lord wanted me to give this to you." I slid it back to her and said, "I think the Lord has me confused with someone else." She goes, “Well, I just wanted to make sure you have some information about Jesus.” I said, “There is no shortage of information out there. Tell you what, when I go home tonight, I promise to Google Jesus!”
Recently, I saw an Amber Alert on TV, and they showed all these pictures that looked like glamour shots of the child from her best day ever. Then a week or so later, they came out with the real pics of her, looking a little chubby, without makeup and her hair all messy. You know, the way she really looks. Here’s some advice for you. People, if you get kidnapped, those old headshots aren’t doing you any favors! Seriously, if I go missing, do NOT show my headshots… or they will never find me! Show them the pics I won’t let you put on Facebook. That’s who the police should be looking for.
I was actually kidnapped when I was 5 years old. I can remember right before he took me and right after I was found. But, I can’t remember anything that happened while he had me. So, I’ve decided to pretend it was all puppies and sunshine. I’m sure he just took me to the circus. I mean, why else would a drunk old man want to be alone with a 5 year old girl?
I have been crazy my whole life. Before I was old enough for real anxiety drugs, they had me on Benadryl. Seriously. Benadryl was my pre-lithium. Benadryl was my psychiatric training wheels. I’ve been crazy for so long, once they found me in my crib trying to cut my wrists with my pacifier. Now I am on medical marijuana for anxiety. I still want to kill myself, but I just keep forgetting.
Have you seen the commercial on TV for the Supersonic Hearing device? Now you can hear what your friends and neighbors are saying about you! Gee, what could go wrong there? In the commercial, these two girls are checking out another girl and say, “Look at her body. She looks great.” Yeah, that’s what people are saying about you behind your back! Right. One day we are going to see on the news a story about a girl killing her group of her friends because she heard what they were saying as she walked away.
I recently got into texting. My iPhone keep changing my words to what it thinks I am trying to type. Seriously, who texts ‘ducking’ that much? No one is texting about a duck. No one is trying to duck you! WTD?
I’m from GA. One of the things I hate about it is all the racism. But, it’s really pretty there. The South would be beautiful if you could get all the racists to hide behind the trees. Everyone duck. How pretty! (That time I really did mean duck).
I love watching the Hollywood red carpet arrivals. I don’t understand why on TV they always criticize the actress for a bad dress. She didn’t make it! Versace fucked up at the Oscars, not Reese Witherspoon!
I’ve been with my husband Chris for 20 years. The other day, I bought his dad a birthday card, and Chris called him to find out if he was going to be in GA or FL for his birthday, and to get the address to mail his card. I told Chris to write it on a piece of paper, and NOT on the envelope. So, not only does he write in on the envelope, but he gets through the entire GA address before his dad says, “but we can’t get mail here.” So, then his dad gives him the FL address, which Chris also writes on the damn envelope right above the GA address! So now there are two addresses on the envelope. So, I get some white labels and cover them up and put the FL address on the envelope and make it all look pretty again. I, then, asked Chris to put a return address and a stamp on it. What does he do? He puts the return address and the stamp upside down on the envelope, the opposite way of his dad’s address. And then I have to fix that, too!
I told that story to my single friend and she said, “Aww. Isn’t that cute?” Yeah, that was cute…in 1989! In 1999, it was charming. But, in 2009, it’s annoying as shit!!
My husband is a geek. While I was in high school partying and screwing around, he was home memorizing the names of all the Jedi.
What I want to know is, who do you have to fuck in this town to make it? Jerry Seinfeld? I would totally blow Jerry! And then afterwards, we could eat some cereal.
I hate it when I perform and the person I’m with doesn’t tell me I was funny. Sometimes I will just come out and ask, “I was really funny, right?” And so often the person says, “Of course. That goes without saying.” What? No it doesn’t. Say it god damn it. Say it! A compliment never goes without saying.
Once I got off stage and this guy I was with said, “Some of your stuff was good tonight.” I’m like, “Some of it?” He goes, “Well, I’m just being honest.” Really? Cause I don’t remember asking you your fucking honest opinion on my act or anything else! The only thing I want to hear when I get off stage is, “You were awesome.” And maybe, “You are beautiful. I want to have sex with you.” Anything else, goes without saying!
I used to work at Pasadena City College. One day, a teacher came into my office and slid a Christian pamphlet across my desk and said, "The Lord wanted me to give this to you." I slid it back to her and said, "I think the Lord has me confused with someone else." She goes, “Well, I just wanted to make sure you have some information about Jesus.” I said, “There is no shortage of information out there. Tell you what, when I go home tonight, I promise to Google Jesus!”
Recently, I saw an Amber Alert on TV, and they showed all these pictures that looked like glamour shots of the child from her best day ever. Then a week or so later, they came out with the real pics of her, looking a little chubby, without makeup and her hair all messy. You know, the way she really looks. Here’s some advice for you. People, if you get kidnapped, those old headshots aren’t doing you any favors! Seriously, if I go missing, do NOT show my headshots… or they will never find me! Show them the pics I won’t let you put on Facebook. That’s who the police should be looking for.
I was actually kidnapped when I was 5 years old. I can remember right before he took me and right after I was found. But, I can’t remember anything that happened while he had me. So, I’ve decided to pretend it was all puppies and sunshine. I’m sure he just took me to the circus. I mean, why else would a drunk old man want to be alone with a 5 year old girl?
I have been crazy my whole life. Before I was old enough for real anxiety drugs, they had me on Benadryl. Seriously. Benadryl was my pre-lithium. Benadryl was my psychiatric training wheels. I’ve been crazy for so long, once they found me in my crib trying to cut my wrists with my pacifier. Now I am on medical marijuana for anxiety. I still want to kill myself, but I just keep forgetting.
Have you seen the commercial on TV for the Supersonic Hearing device? Now you can hear what your friends and neighbors are saying about you! Gee, what could go wrong there? In the commercial, these two girls are checking out another girl and say, “Look at her body. She looks great.” Yeah, that’s what people are saying about you behind your back! Right. One day we are going to see on the news a story about a girl killing her group of her friends because she heard what they were saying as she walked away.
I recently got into texting. My iPhone keep changing my words to what it thinks I am trying to type. Seriously, who texts ‘ducking’ that much? No one is texting about a duck. No one is trying to duck you! WTD?
I’m from GA. One of the things I hate about it is all the racism. But, it’s really pretty there. The South would be beautiful if you could get all the racists to hide behind the trees. Everyone duck. How pretty! (That time I really did mean duck).
I love watching the Hollywood red carpet arrivals. I don’t understand why on TV they always criticize the actress for a bad dress. She didn’t make it! Versace fucked up at the Oscars, not Reese Witherspoon!
I’ve been with my husband Chris for 20 years. The other day, I bought his dad a birthday card, and Chris called him to find out if he was going to be in GA or FL for his birthday, and to get the address to mail his card. I told Chris to write it on a piece of paper, and NOT on the envelope. So, not only does he write in on the envelope, but he gets through the entire GA address before his dad says, “but we can’t get mail here.” So, then his dad gives him the FL address, which Chris also writes on the damn envelope right above the GA address! So now there are two addresses on the envelope. So, I get some white labels and cover them up and put the FL address on the envelope and make it all look pretty again. I, then, asked Chris to put a return address and a stamp on it. What does he do? He puts the return address and the stamp upside down on the envelope, the opposite way of his dad’s address. And then I have to fix that, too!
I told that story to my single friend and she said, “Aww. Isn’t that cute?” Yeah, that was cute…in 1989! In 1999, it was charming. But, in 2009, it’s annoying as shit!!
My husband is a geek. While I was in high school partying and screwing around, he was home memorizing the names of all the Jedi.
Monday, February 16, 2009
New Potluck
I know it’s been a long time since I posted any jokes. I’ve been writing; I just haven’t had time to get on this blog. So, here ya go. Yummy new potluck!
Michael Phelps got busted smoking a bong, and now Kellogg’s dropped him from their ad campaign. Doesn’t Kellogg’s know that their demographic is kids and pot-heads? And kids don’t have any money!
And have you seen those three dudes on the Raisin Bran Crunch commercials? You can’t tell me those freaks aren’t high!
A-Rod admitted to using performance enhancing drugs. But, he added, only with Madonna.
I heard on NPR that in Israel, two political parties are joining together to gain more power. The two parties are The Holocaust Survivor party and, wait for it, The Legalize Cannabis party! That’s right; the chosen people joined the stoned people. The ones who killed Jesus have joined the ones who killed off that pan of brownies. This brings a whole new meaning to the burning bush. Their new slogan should be: Jews for Doobs. Or maybe Heebs for Weed. High on Zion. This is a combo never before seen…except in the Beastie Boys. Ok, I’m done. I promise.
The octo-mom had 6 other kids before delivering octuplets. Three of those 6 kids (50%) were developmentally disabled. And yet, she still used the same sperm donor for all 14 kids! What was she thinking? Of course, I guess it’s obvious from her behavior that the retarded gene probably came from her side.
I like to watch that show Nancy Grace because she follows the Casey Anthony case. My husband hates it and is always complaining about it. I said, “Look, I work really hard. Sometimes I just want to sit down, relax and watch a story about a little girl getting killed! Is that too much to ask?”
There are so many murder-suicides in the news from men who lose their jobs and come home and kill their wives and themselves. I told my husband, “Oh honey. If you lose your job and you ever feel like you just want to end it all and kill yourself…can you please just leave me out of it?” Seriously, what ever happened to good old fashioned suicide?
I have an unusual problem. I have too many opportunities. I am overwhelmed with opportunities. I don’t have time to take advantage of all the opportunities that I have. So, I don’t want to hear about your idea for a show I can produce or a class I can teach or a book I should write. I’m just trying to keep the balls in the air I’m juggling now. In fact, the next damn time opportunity knocks, I’m gonna duck down behind the couch like it’s a fucking Jehovah’s Witness!
I just got on Facebook, and boy is it a mind fuck. I think it was invented by the Universe to teach me life lessons. You know how you always said you would go to your highschool reunion when you are rich enough, thin enough and successful enough? Well, now you don’t have that choice. Facebook is the highschool reunion that comes to you-whether you are ready or not.
I’m so surprised at how many people who were downright mean to me in school are all like “Oh my god, you are a successful comedian in LA! Oh my god that’s so great! I’m so happy for you!” Blah blah blah
I just want to say, “Weren’t you the one who got the whole school calling me Miss Piggy in 8th grade? Well, how you like me now mother fucker?”
I know that I should so be over all that by now. I’m 40 for god’s sake. And, I really ought to thank them. If they hadn’t made my life the same living hell at school that it was at home, I may never have run like hell out of that town and never looked back. So, thanks bullies! How’s that shitty job at the plant working out for you?
(Please note: if you were nice to me in high school, that is not directed toward you!)
On Facebook, everyone constantly updates their status to say what they are doing right now. Look, I barely give a shit about what I’m doing right now. I sure as hell don’t care what you are doing right now. Or in 15 minutes from now.
Facebook is like walking down memory lane - of one night stands. Every guy I ever, um, dated (and I say ‘dated’ but you know what I really mean) has friended me on Facebook. One guy, I had even forgotten about. I’m like “Damn it. I’ve been leaving him off the list for years!” Now where am I? One, two, three, four, five……….wait, do I have to count the girls?
I have discovered a sure-fire way to keep your kids off drugs – do drugs! Seriously, my kids think that drugs are the most uncool thing on Earth. I have raised a couple of straight-edge geeks I would never have hung out with in high school. Mission accomplished.
In the last few years, I have lost weight and gained it again. But, my stalkers have never turned their backs on me (except when I turn around to see if anyone is there). Hell, my stalkers don’t care what I weigh! They just want to kill me for me!
I get so sick of every new comic thinking they are the idiot savant of comedy. One day I got an email from this guy who said I have never performed on stage before, but I guarantee you I am one the top 5 funniest comics in LA. WTF? How insulting! That doesn’t happen in other professions. People don’t walk up to doctors and say, “Look I ain’t never been to no medical school, and I ain’t never performed no surgery, but I am the best damn doctor you ever seen! Now give me that knife thingy.”
Some guy emailed me once and said, “You need to put me in your show immediately because I am the best comic you’ve ever seen. You won’t be disappointed.” You know what? I’m already disappointed -by your email. Try not to disappoint me again.
Once a comedy student said to me, “Bobbie, I give this comedy thing two months. If I’m not famous in two months, I quit.” I said, “You should quit now. And save us all two months of listening to you bitch about it.”
Michael Phelps got busted smoking a bong, and now Kellogg’s dropped him from their ad campaign. Doesn’t Kellogg’s know that their demographic is kids and pot-heads? And kids don’t have any money!
And have you seen those three dudes on the Raisin Bran Crunch commercials? You can’t tell me those freaks aren’t high!
A-Rod admitted to using performance enhancing drugs. But, he added, only with Madonna.
I heard on NPR that in Israel, two political parties are joining together to gain more power. The two parties are The Holocaust Survivor party and, wait for it, The Legalize Cannabis party! That’s right; the chosen people joined the stoned people. The ones who killed Jesus have joined the ones who killed off that pan of brownies. This brings a whole new meaning to the burning bush. Their new slogan should be: Jews for Doobs. Or maybe Heebs for Weed. High on Zion. This is a combo never before seen…except in the Beastie Boys. Ok, I’m done. I promise.
The octo-mom had 6 other kids before delivering octuplets. Three of those 6 kids (50%) were developmentally disabled. And yet, she still used the same sperm donor for all 14 kids! What was she thinking? Of course, I guess it’s obvious from her behavior that the retarded gene probably came from her side.
I like to watch that show Nancy Grace because she follows the Casey Anthony case. My husband hates it and is always complaining about it. I said, “Look, I work really hard. Sometimes I just want to sit down, relax and watch a story about a little girl getting killed! Is that too much to ask?”
There are so many murder-suicides in the news from men who lose their jobs and come home and kill their wives and themselves. I told my husband, “Oh honey. If you lose your job and you ever feel like you just want to end it all and kill yourself…can you please just leave me out of it?” Seriously, what ever happened to good old fashioned suicide?
I have an unusual problem. I have too many opportunities. I am overwhelmed with opportunities. I don’t have time to take advantage of all the opportunities that I have. So, I don’t want to hear about your idea for a show I can produce or a class I can teach or a book I should write. I’m just trying to keep the balls in the air I’m juggling now. In fact, the next damn time opportunity knocks, I’m gonna duck down behind the couch like it’s a fucking Jehovah’s Witness!
I just got on Facebook, and boy is it a mind fuck. I think it was invented by the Universe to teach me life lessons. You know how you always said you would go to your highschool reunion when you are rich enough, thin enough and successful enough? Well, now you don’t have that choice. Facebook is the highschool reunion that comes to you-whether you are ready or not.
I’m so surprised at how many people who were downright mean to me in school are all like “Oh my god, you are a successful comedian in LA! Oh my god that’s so great! I’m so happy for you!” Blah blah blah
I just want to say, “Weren’t you the one who got the whole school calling me Miss Piggy in 8th grade? Well, how you like me now mother fucker?”
I know that I should so be over all that by now. I’m 40 for god’s sake. And, I really ought to thank them. If they hadn’t made my life the same living hell at school that it was at home, I may never have run like hell out of that town and never looked back. So, thanks bullies! How’s that shitty job at the plant working out for you?
(Please note: if you were nice to me in high school, that is not directed toward you!)
On Facebook, everyone constantly updates their status to say what they are doing right now. Look, I barely give a shit about what I’m doing right now. I sure as hell don’t care what you are doing right now. Or in 15 minutes from now.
Facebook is like walking down memory lane - of one night stands. Every guy I ever, um, dated (and I say ‘dated’ but you know what I really mean) has friended me on Facebook. One guy, I had even forgotten about. I’m like “Damn it. I’ve been leaving him off the list for years!” Now where am I? One, two, three, four, five……….wait, do I have to count the girls?
I have discovered a sure-fire way to keep your kids off drugs – do drugs! Seriously, my kids think that drugs are the most uncool thing on Earth. I have raised a couple of straight-edge geeks I would never have hung out with in high school. Mission accomplished.
In the last few years, I have lost weight and gained it again. But, my stalkers have never turned their backs on me (except when I turn around to see if anyone is there). Hell, my stalkers don’t care what I weigh! They just want to kill me for me!
I get so sick of every new comic thinking they are the idiot savant of comedy. One day I got an email from this guy who said I have never performed on stage before, but I guarantee you I am one the top 5 funniest comics in LA. WTF? How insulting! That doesn’t happen in other professions. People don’t walk up to doctors and say, “Look I ain’t never been to no medical school, and I ain’t never performed no surgery, but I am the best damn doctor you ever seen! Now give me that knife thingy.”
Some guy emailed me once and said, “You need to put me in your show immediately because I am the best comic you’ve ever seen. You won’t be disappointed.” You know what? I’m already disappointed -by your email. Try not to disappoint me again.
Once a comedy student said to me, “Bobbie, I give this comedy thing two months. If I’m not famous in two months, I quit.” I said, “You should quit now. And save us all two months of listening to you bitch about it.”
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
No Joke
Not everything can be comedy, so here is a poem.
Over worked
Over stressed
Over tired
Over cooked
Over it all
Reach out. Don't be afraid
Call out. It's ok
Help
I am drowning in my own success
My own dreams
A river of my own making
Stretched too thin
But not thin
Cause no focus is on me
Not me the person, me the product
All for what?
I grabbed the brass ring and
Sank to the bottom from the weight of it
If I let it go, I can kick my way back up
But, is there anyone left on the surface
To receive me?
Where is me? Who is me?
I am a farmer
My crop will never stop growing
I must never stop sowing
But, when is the time to reap?
When is the time to sleep?
Congratulations me
I made it! I made it
All the way away
So far away from who I long to be
Just me
Me without comedy
No joke
Over worked
Over stressed
Over tired
Over cooked
Over it all
Reach out. Don't be afraid
Call out. It's ok
Help
I am drowning in my own success
My own dreams
A river of my own making
Stretched too thin
But not thin
Cause no focus is on me
Not me the person, me the product
All for what?
I grabbed the brass ring and
Sank to the bottom from the weight of it
If I let it go, I can kick my way back up
But, is there anyone left on the surface
To receive me?
Where is me? Who is me?
I am a farmer
My crop will never stop growing
I must never stop sowing
But, when is the time to reap?
When is the time to sleep?
Congratulations me
I made it! I made it
All the way away
So far away from who I long to be
Just me
Me without comedy
No joke
Monday, December 22, 2008
New Potluck
Archaeologists recently discovered a 2,700 year old tomb in China, and when they opened it, they found 28 ounces of pot! That fat bag of pot was in the tomb for almost 3,000 years. And 15 minutes later, it was gone! The archaeologists were quoted as saying, “It was a little stemy, but the bud was kind!”
The story even described the pot as already prepared for smoking. I guess the last thing you want to do when you wake up from the dead is have to roll your own joints!
I am pot head. For years, I have been using Listerine strips to cover up the smell of pot on my breath when I go out in public. Then, I gave one to my husband the other day, and I realized that it made him smell like he’d been drinking. All this time, I have been trying to hide the fact that I’m a pot head, and all I’ve done is make people think that I’m an alcoholic. So, everyone- I’m not an alcoholic! I'm a pot head. Let’s get it straight!
I’ve been with my husband for 20 years, and I have grown very dependent on him. I don’t know what I would do if he died before me. I couldn’t handle it. So, I just lead a way less healthy lifestyle than him so I die first. For example, he rides his bike to work, and I lie on the couch all day. He eats a piece of pie, and I eat two. He takes vitamins, so I smoke crack. I think I have it covered.
But, what if he did die before me? What would I do? I think I would stay in bed for 6 months, then I would fuck little boys for 6 months and then kill myself. I’m just kidding. I would fuck little boys for a year.
My husband made me watch the international break dancing competition. There were teams from countries around the world. At the end, the first AND third place went to South Korea. Japan got second, and America didn’t even place! That is just another example of Asians taking away American jobs!
Over the holidays, we watched one of my very favorites, “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” with my British friend Kate. She had NEVER seen Charlie Brown before! She had no idea what was going on. It was so weird to have to catch someone up on Charlie Brown. I was like, “Ok, you see that girl Lucy? She’s a bitch. And that football kick is never going to happen.” She couldn’t understand why everyone was so mean to the bald kid. Come to think if it, me either. Poor Charlie Brown!
I was watching the CNN show Nancy Grace about the Casey Anthony case in Florida. The guest host, Jane Velez-Mitchell said, “Do you think it’s so hard for people to believe that she killed her two year old daughter because she is young and pretty? Do you think people would believe it more if she were fat?” What the fuck?? Fat people kill babies? Is that what you are trying to say? I fucking resent that you skinny bitch! What? Fat people are in a long line at McDonald’s and they are like, “Fuck this shit! I’m gonna kill me a baby!”
So, George Bush got some shoes thrown at him by a reporter in Iraq. It was awesome. Shoe #1 came flying at Bush’s head, and he ducked. Shoe #2 came flying at Bush’s head, and he ducked again. The Secret Service didn’t even move. They said, “Hell, we never said we would take a shoe for him.” The reporter might get 8 years in prison for the incident. The good news is, when he gets out, he has a multi-million dollar deal with Nike.
My mama had 5 kids before she was 28 years old. No wonder she was crazy! I can’t believe she didn’t drown one of us in the bathtub. I can assure you, if I had 5 kids at 28, there would have been at least one “mishap”. Come to think of it, maybe there used to be 6 of us.
The story even described the pot as already prepared for smoking. I guess the last thing you want to do when you wake up from the dead is have to roll your own joints!
I am pot head. For years, I have been using Listerine strips to cover up the smell of pot on my breath when I go out in public. Then, I gave one to my husband the other day, and I realized that it made him smell like he’d been drinking. All this time, I have been trying to hide the fact that I’m a pot head, and all I’ve done is make people think that I’m an alcoholic. So, everyone- I’m not an alcoholic! I'm a pot head. Let’s get it straight!
I’ve been with my husband for 20 years, and I have grown very dependent on him. I don’t know what I would do if he died before me. I couldn’t handle it. So, I just lead a way less healthy lifestyle than him so I die first. For example, he rides his bike to work, and I lie on the couch all day. He eats a piece of pie, and I eat two. He takes vitamins, so I smoke crack. I think I have it covered.
But, what if he did die before me? What would I do? I think I would stay in bed for 6 months, then I would fuck little boys for 6 months and then kill myself. I’m just kidding. I would fuck little boys for a year.
My husband made me watch the international break dancing competition. There were teams from countries around the world. At the end, the first AND third place went to South Korea. Japan got second, and America didn’t even place! That is just another example of Asians taking away American jobs!
Over the holidays, we watched one of my very favorites, “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” with my British friend Kate. She had NEVER seen Charlie Brown before! She had no idea what was going on. It was so weird to have to catch someone up on Charlie Brown. I was like, “Ok, you see that girl Lucy? She’s a bitch. And that football kick is never going to happen.” She couldn’t understand why everyone was so mean to the bald kid. Come to think if it, me either. Poor Charlie Brown!
I was watching the CNN show Nancy Grace about the Casey Anthony case in Florida. The guest host, Jane Velez-Mitchell said, “Do you think it’s so hard for people to believe that she killed her two year old daughter because she is young and pretty? Do you think people would believe it more if she were fat?” What the fuck?? Fat people kill babies? Is that what you are trying to say? I fucking resent that you skinny bitch! What? Fat people are in a long line at McDonald’s and they are like, “Fuck this shit! I’m gonna kill me a baby!”
So, George Bush got some shoes thrown at him by a reporter in Iraq. It was awesome. Shoe #1 came flying at Bush’s head, and he ducked. Shoe #2 came flying at Bush’s head, and he ducked again. The Secret Service didn’t even move. They said, “Hell, we never said we would take a shoe for him.” The reporter might get 8 years in prison for the incident. The good news is, when he gets out, he has a multi-million dollar deal with Nike.
My mama had 5 kids before she was 28 years old. No wonder she was crazy! I can’t believe she didn’t drown one of us in the bathtub. I can assure you, if I had 5 kids at 28, there would have been at least one “mishap”. Come to think of it, maybe there used to be 6 of us.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
I Worship Comedy
I’m not a religious person. When you think about it, the only thing I really worship is comedy.
I don’t go to church; I go to comedy clubs.
I don’t recite prayers; I recite jokes.
My prophets are Richard Pryor, Lenny Bruce, Lily Tomlin, and St. George Carlin.
In my church, we don’t pass wine. But, there is a two-drink minimum.
We don’t have wafers; we have chicken tenders.
My bible is my joke notebook. It is after all, the word of ME.
I do not have a crucifix; I have a microphone.
We do not confess, but sometimes we bomb.
In my church, Thou Shalt Kill!
We do not sing; we laugh.
I do not have a pulpit; I have a stage.
I do not crave salvation, but I’d love a little applause!
Can I get an “Amen”?
.
I don’t go to church; I go to comedy clubs.
I don’t recite prayers; I recite jokes.
My prophets are Richard Pryor, Lenny Bruce, Lily Tomlin, and St. George Carlin.
In my church, we don’t pass wine. But, there is a two-drink minimum.
We don’t have wafers; we have chicken tenders.
My bible is my joke notebook. It is after all, the word of ME.
I do not have a crucifix; I have a microphone.
We do not confess, but sometimes we bomb.
In my church, Thou Shalt Kill!
We do not sing; we laugh.
I do not have a pulpit; I have a stage.
I do not crave salvation, but I’d love a little applause!
Can I get an “Amen”?
.
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