As promised, I made a video of my recent blog post where I lose it over my lunch dumping a bunch of meat juice in my crotch. It seemed fitting to resurrect the angry mask.
Monthly Archives: January 2009
I haven’t railed angrily at any of life’s little injustices recently but holy fuck I’m angry right now! I am a creature of habit with many things but particularly with food. If I find something for lunch that I like I tend to get it reasonably often. Knowing I’m going to enjoy food is more important to me than variety.
One of my favourite lunches near my current workplace is relatively simple. It’s a wrap: marinated chicken cooked on a grill with bacon, cheese, pineapple and salad wrapped in toasted flat bread. This was my lunch today. It was a taste sensation as usual. What wasn’t usual was when it dumped a load of food juices right in my crotch. Gross, sticky and embarrassing. Because it’s all over my fucking crotch.
I tell you, if I’m going to end up with sticky juices covering my crotch I want them to get there the fun way!
What really pisses me off is this only happened because they changed the fucking packaging! Prior to today, the wraps always came in these touch paper bags. The yummy fresh food and sauce alway runs out of the wrap because it’s hot. This bag NEVER let the sauce escape – I guess it was treated somehow to not go soggy.
Today the wrap comes with a continuous piece of paper wrapped around it. This has two effects. One, it’s harder to unwrap and get at my food. Two, IT DUMPED THE FUCKING FOOD JUICES INTO MY FUCKING CROTCH!
I don’t want to hear that I should be more careful or eat it over a plate or any common sense shit like that! I fucking hate it when somebody changes something that works as a cost cutting measure (probably) and introduces a fucking problem that didn’t exist before! FUCK!
The one saving grace is I’m wearing dark pants (like I do 90% of the time at work) so I just spent a few minutes at the bathroom sink splashing water on my crotch trying to get the sticky stuff off. I never thought I’d have to say that again. Then I used the hand dryer to try and dry my pants (I learned through experience to not use paper towel – then your crotch is covered in white fluff). So I’m essentially dry humping the hand dryer like Mr Bean and of course someone walked in. I acted casual and pretended there was nothing wrong with my posture.
FUCK I am in a bad mood at the moment!
Can someone tell me what is happening here?
It looks to me like a celbratory round of bukkake after a big game. Yes, I know that told you way more about the workings of my mind than you wanted to know.
One of the challenges you face if you try to entertain people with humour is deciding on what is an “appropriate” topic for comedy or satire. Clearly, I don’t mind if I piss people off and frequently set out to do it on purpose. By the same token, I do have an internal censor of sorts but it leans more towards “is that funny enough to get away with it?” than “am I allowed to say that?”
I was reminded of this conundrum when reading about how Ricky Gervais has upset a few people this week by picking on fat people in a podcast. I’d seen his DVD “Fame” recently where he also ripped on fat people (“not a disease”) so I had a fair feeling for the tone of his podcast when I saw a partial transcript. Suffice to say that he thinks fat people shouldn’t be treated gently.
I have all three standup DVDs he’s released and one thing that was a real eye-opener for me in all of them was how aggressively he went for what could be regarded as soft targets. I know he isn’t to everyone’s taste but anyone who can make me laugh at jokes at the expense of kids with cancer is all right by me.
Gervais (to me at least) is a classic example of it isn’t what you make jokes about that matters, it’s how good you are. The fact that some people are confronted and upset by some of his jokes isn’t in and of itself a measure of their quality. After all, I doubt that the initial publication of Jonathan Swift’s “A Modest Proposal” was greeted with universal acclaim as a masterpiece of satire (“He’s saying we should eat Irish babies – he’s a very bad man!”)
The world is, of course, littered with the putrid corpses of jokes that died horrible public deaths when the comedian in question was simply trying to be offensive for shock value and failed to remember the “be funny” part of the equation (doubtless I’ve committed this humourcide many times). The best recent example for me is still when Michael Richards (Seinfeld’s “Kramer”) imploded on stage and repeatedly brayed “nigger” at an audience member. You don’t try that shit unless you’re really, really good.
But if you’re good, and daring, you can go right out there and make jokes about paedophilia:
To be accurate, the target of the satire in that video from Britain’s “Brass Eye” is actually the hysteria that was surrounding paedophilia at the time rather than saying paedophilia itself is funny. The first time I saw that I almost couldn’t believe someone would take the risk of going that far. I don’t know how many death threats the makers of the show received but they won’t be getting invited to tea at Buckingham Palace any time soon.
Which is something else that not enough people consider before they do something (and I’m not limiting this to attempts at comedy): be prepared for the consequences. To white guys who say they should be able to say nigger because it’s free speech I say sure you should. Just be prepared for people to decide they don’t want to be around someone who spouts racist crap. I know a lot of what I’ve done, particularly on YouTube, could have an adverse affect on some people’s opinion of me. It could mean I don’t get a particular job at some point. I made a conscious choice in that regard:
I’ve never taken a video down and I stand by everything I’ve ever done on YouTube. It may not all be comedy gold but it’s all me.