The Oscars are tonight.

When we think an actor or actress is among the best in business, we hold a wonderful gala event celebrating their talent. We give them trophies and gift bags and we let them make speeches.

A couple of weeks ago, they had the Grammy Awards.

When we think a singer or musician is among the best in the business, we also hold a wonderful gala event celebrating their talent. We give them tropies and gift bags and we let them make speeches.

You know what comedians get when we think they're among the best in the business?

A roast.

A roast is when all of your other comedian friends get up onstage at the Friar's Club and say mean things about you. No trophies. No gift bag. And the speeches are all people saying mean things about you.

If I ever get good enough to be roasted by the Friars, I think I will tell them the day before, "Thank you very much for this great honor. I hope you enjoy yourselves immensely at the roast and say plenty of mean things about me. I, on the other hand, will be staying home and taking a bath."

Unless, of course, there's a gift bag.

An article about ME from the Rapid City Journal:

http://rapidcityjournal.com/articles/2004/02/27/news/features/635features.txt

(You have to register to get to the article. Sorry, I know it's a pain. But I'm pretty sure they don't send you anything annoying afterward.)

I think it's really unfair when insanely weird people look totally normal.

I mean when a guy walks up to you on the subway wearing scotch tape for shoes and talking to his popsicle stick collection, at least you know what you're getting into. But when they come up to you looking perfectly normal, well, that's false advertising.

It's like buying a box that says Wheaties and getting Captain Crunch. And I'm not going to stand for it any more.

Met a guy on the subway today. Seemed like a perfectly normal guy--good looking, well dressed. Asked me what time it was, and we continued to talk for a bit. But then the conversation went severely awry......

Guy: I'm new to the city, maybe we could hang out sometime and you could show me around.

Me: Yeah, that might be fun.

Guy: Oh good, I'm glad you said that. Because I spend most of my time interpreting dreams about celebrities, but I'm looking to marry a good Caucasian woman as soon as possible.

Me: Sigh.......

I think that we should be able to tag the normal-looking weird people. You know, like hunters tag deer? Put some sort of mark on them so that everyone else can recognize that they?re insane and avoid them at all costs. Perhaps like an implanted electronic chip or something.

Or a t-shirt that says, "I'm with Stupid"

When I went to the drugstore today, I saw a display for deodorant. And on the display, there was a big sign that said,

Can Be Used on Underarms or Feet

Feet???? Deodorant on feet??

Is there an entire hygienic movement going on that I know nothing about? What if everyone I know is using deodorant on their feet and I had no idea?

And my friends are probably secretly talking about me behind my back:

Friend #1: I think Jill is really rad, but what's up with her feet?

Friend #2: Yeah, I know. Doesn't she use foot deodorant?

Foot deodorant? God, I'm definitely not going to sleep tonight.

I think persistence is an admirable quality. Most of the time.......

A guy I gave my phone number to called me today. Things were frantic, so I said, "Things are crazy busy right now, can you give me a call later in the week?"

Now, by "later in the week," the boy naturally assumed I meant, "in about an hour."

Because that's when he called me back.

And let me clarify. He didn't call for some good reason like, "Hey Jill, my apartment is on fire and I wanted your to be the last voice I heard before I died."

Nope, it was, "Hey Jill, just calling to see what you're doing."

"Let's see. The only thing I'm doing now that I was not doing an hour ago is wishing I had never given you my phone number."

Ahh yes. Persistence is a beautiful thing.

This post goes in the "I swear to God I'm not making this up" category.

I went to the store today to buy a birthday card. And as I was browsing amongst the cards, I found this one:

Front:
Before we go any further--
before we continue
with our relationship--
before we go deeper into this--
there's something
I need to tell you
I'm a little concerned,
I'm a little unsure
I love being with you
and spending time together
but I can't help but think--
Is this too perfect to last?
Where will it go from here?

Inside:
Please understand
that's it's not you--
it's me.

Needless to say, I was completely taken aback. I was unprepared for the "It's Not You, It's Me" greeting card. I guess it's completely acceptable now to send greeting cards to cover really sensitive subjects. So I, of course, have created my own.

Front:
Sometimes one person has a bad day
And takes it out on someone else--
even though he shouldn't.

Inside:
I'm sorry I killed your mother.

Beats a boring old 'happy birthday' card every day of the week.

I don’t think we should be reading our children the fairy tale, “The Frog Prince” anymore. I think the moral of this story is a little suspect:

Kiss frogs. Eventually one of them might turn into a person.

Is that really a good lesson for kids?

I think a better (and more hygenic) moral would be, “Don’t kiss frogs ever. Not even if they ask nicely or are really cute.”

Clearly "The Frog Prince" was put out by some sort of Frog Propaganda Association (FPA for short) and we need to make it clear that we will no longer stand for this sort of madness.

Kissing frogs....jeez. What'll be next?

Gay marriage?

Shows this week:

Sunday, February 22
9pm show (I go on at 11-ish)
New York Comedy Club
241 E. 24th Street (btw. 2nd and 3rd ave.), NYC
$8 cover/2 drink minimum

Monday, February 23
10pm show (I go on LATE)
Boston Comedy Club
82 W. 3rd Street (btw. Thompson and Sullivan), NYC
$5 cover/1 drink minimum (free admission with student ID)

Thursday, February 26
10pm show (I go on LATE)
Boston Comedy Club
82 W. 3rd Street (btw. Thompson and Sullivan), NYC
$8 cover/1 drink minimum (free admission for ladies)

Drop by and say hi, please. And laugh emphatically.

Today I noticed that the sentence,

I direct foreign films

and the sentence,

I direct porn films

sound almost exactly alike when said quickly.

I think this would be a trick that dirty old men could use to pick up aspiring actresses.

I'm not totally sure if I believe in an after-life or not.

But if there is one, I'm a little worried that it might just be a giant room where everyone's waiting to get onto "Crossing Over--With John Edward."

This post is for anyone who has a program (like AOL, for example) that has a little hand on the screen to show you where your mouse is when you're pointing at a link.

I think a fun thing to do is to go to pictures of celebrities online and use the little hand thing to pretend to pick their noses.

Like right now, for example, AOL has a picture of Laura Bush in the "Welcome to AOL" box. And if you maneuver correctly, you can stick the hand's pointer finger right up her nose.

Try this. It's fun for the whole family.

(DISCLAIMER: Jill is an idiot. Sometimes she writes posts at 4:30am that make her more of an idiot. But we should love her anyway. Maybe send her flowers. Or a puppy. Just a thought.)

Someone was talking to me about the democratic primary today. And they said, “You know, Dennis Kucinich is a great candidate, but he has about as much chance as you or I of winning the nomination.”

How exciting would that be?

Newscaster: In a HUGE upset, the Democratic nomination did not go to John Kerry, as was expected but, instead, the party’s nominee is JILL TWISS.

Other Newscaster: But Connie, I didn’t even know Jill Twiss was running.

Newscaster: No one did, Bob. Not even Jill herself. When she heard the news, she was quoted as saying, “I guess Dennis Kucinich had a better chance than I thought.” No one’s really sure what she meant by that.

Jill Twiss for President in 2004.

Well, boys and girls, it's the moment you've all been waiting for......

JILL'S VERY EXCITING CONTEST WINNERS!

For those of you who haven't been keeping up (and are too lazy to scroll down,) I posted a contest on the site a couple of weeks ago in which people were to use either the word "rhombus" or the phrase "buck up, camper" in a joke. Bonus points to those using both.

I had so much fun reading the replies that I decided to choose three winners and an honorable mention. Each of whom will receive a VERY EXCITING PRIZE in the mail.

I must say the choices were difficult. Even the jokes that didn't make any sense made me laugh. But, after much deliberation, here are your winners:


HONORABLE MENTION (ok, so I don't really get the joke. But the story was so cute......)----submitted by Alex


I hate valentine's day. And it probably comes from me being a dork. Hopeless romantic dorks don't like holidays that hall mark creates. Think about it. How many nerds and dorks do you see standing in front of the "I love you section" at the card store? I can't find them.

Unless they are like me who buy the cards just in case I get a girlfriend. "Oh yeah, she will like this one. She loves kissing me. No, THIS one because she tells me that I am the sexiest man alive and she wouldn't want this hunk with his shirt off telling her how bad he wants her. NO, only I can satisfy her." But you go home and stick the card in the desk drawer along with all the other cards hoping that someday there will be that special someone to give them to. Anyway...

One time in math class on Valentine's day, I tried to be cute with this girl I really liked. We were in math together. I got a plastic ring out of one of those machines. When I gave it to her, she asked what's this. I said it was a rhombus and do you want to be my valentine. She laughed, I laughed and nothing really changed. She just turned and left. Man, that was funny. And for those laughing now, it's okay. I am a dork, too, because only people who had no girlfriends and/or boyfriends to talk to would know what a rhombus was.


THIRD PLACE---submitted by Josh

I took a tour of NYC yesterday. Man, those tourguides are touchy about being
corrected. Like, she was telling us about washington square park, and I
said "Actually, it's a rhombus!".

You know, some of those guides have pretty sharp fingernails.



SECOND PLACE---submitted by Amanda (on behalf of her co-workers)

Why did the parallelogram get lost?

Because it took the rhombus.


and the WINNER is........... ----submitted by (a different) Josh

So, I always love watching "R" rated movies on network television. The dub-overs are ridiculous. It's the only place you'll hear, "Shut the 'Buck Up, Camper'" and "Boy, she's got a great 'Rhombus.'"


Look forward to my next VERY EXCITING CONTEST next month.

Just a reminder that the contest (see Wed., February 4th) ends at midnight tonight. That's eastern time. I will post the winners tomorrow. Good luck!

I think that writing comedy material is sort of like smoking pot.

It's 2 am; you're sitting in your living room eating Ring Dings and pondering the meaning of life when,out of the blue, comes a flash of brilliance.

"Dude," you think, "I gotta write this down. And NOW!"

The next morning, you wake up to a whole list of things like, "What kind of music does God have on his answering machine?" or "What if doorknobs could talk?"

Total crap.

Oh well. It's 2am. Pass the Ring-Dings.

I park in this parking lot between 10th and 11th avenue when I go into the city. I choose this particular parking lot because it is much cheaper than all the other parking lots. And though one would think a stellar stand-up comedienne such as myself would make boatloads of money, that is not the case.

The bad news is, the parking lot is pretty unsafe and I’m scared to walk to my car at night.

The good news is, I’ve finally managed to answer my lifelong, burning question: "where do cab drivers go to the bathroom?"

The answer is, apparently, in that parking lot. Just when I am walking to my car. Sometimes ON my car, on those extra-special days.

See, if you look hard enough, you can find a sunny side to every situation.

Geography is not my strong point.

I'm not sure what my strong point IS, but we can safely rule out geography. I think eating donuts while watching cartoons might be my strong point. But I digress...

To be fair, though, I think that Europe makes it a little difficult for us (makes geography difficult, that is. Not eating donuts. We're pretty good at that.)

Like what's with that whole England/Great Britain/United Kingdom thing? Am I the only one that can't keep them straight?

I am convinced that Europe does this deliberately so as to confuse us. It is part of a keenly crafted plan. You see, if America ever gets really angry with this particular area of the word and decides to launch an attack, I think the scenario will go something like this:

TOUGH ARMY GUY (brandishing a large weapon): Hey, we're here to attack Great Britain!

THE BRITISH (in charming British accent): Oh, no no no, this is England.

TOUGH ARMY GUY: Really? Oh, sorry dude. Our mistake. Can you tell us how to get to Great Britain, then?

THE BRITISH: Oh sure. It's...uhhhhh...right below North Dakota.

TOUGH ARMY GUY: Right below North Dakota? Wouldn't that be....South Dakota?

THE BRITISH: Nope, England. Errrr...I mean, Great Britain.

TOUGH ARMY GUY: Oh. Well, I guess we came a long way for nothing. Well talley ho, then.

THE BRITISH (gleefully): Tee hee! We fooled them.

TOUGH ARMY GUY (whilst checking out a map, several hours later): Rats!! Foiled again!

I think, when a suicide bomber blows himself up and no one else dies, he gets a big surprise when he gets to heaven. Allah’s like, "No, Hasim, you don’t get 72 virgins for making a MESS in the town square, you big buffoon."

It amuses me to think of Allah using the word "buffoon."

OK, sillyheads. I know the answer to the question I wrote in my last post. Jeez.....

It's Latvorwegian.

If Latin is a dead language (as they claim,) then what, I ask, do they speak in Latvia?

I'd like to know.

Next to one of the comedy clubs I work at, there is a charming Irish bar. And the charming Irish bartender recently informed me that, in Ireland, they never say, "Top o' the mornin' to ye." That is just an American misconception.

Well, I'll be honest with you; that severely decreases any chance that I'll be visiting Ireland any time soon.

If they don't at least say, "They're magically delicious" on a regular basis, the Irish can just count me out.

One has to have standards.

A commercial that I just saw at 1:30am for Cheerios Breakfast Bars:

"How do you make sure your children get the nutrition of a bowl of cereal and milk? "

Call me crazy, but this doesn't seem like a tough question. My suggestion, for example, would be to feed them a bowl of cereal and milk.

But, apparently, pouring milk on a bowl of cereal is so labor intensive, that they've had to hire an entire research department to find a viable replacement.

"Oh no, we can't have people dealing with bowls and spoons and all that madness. Just the number of different kinds of milk alone will wreak havoc on breakfasts all over the country. Skim? Two-percent? Half-and-half? Dear God, it's a disaster waiting to happen. We've got to solve this problem and NOW!"

And, thank goodness, they have.

This so isn't going to be funny at all when I wake up in the morning. I can tell already.

You would think a "twin" bed would be the kind MOST likely to fit two people comfortably.

I have chosen two words/ phrases that I would very much like to work into my comedy routine. Because I like the way they sound.

But, being the lazy person that I am, I thought it would be better if YOU wrote the joke.

So, the person who thinks up the best joke using either the phrase, "Buck Up, Camper" or the word "Rhombus," will get a very exciting prize. From me. I will mail it to you. Postage is on me.

Extra points to those who use "Rhombus" and "Buck Up, Camper," in the same joke.

So please mail your entries in the next week or so to jilltwiss@hotmail.com

And, if this works out, I'll never write my own comedy again.

show tonight
New York Comedy Club
241 E. 24th Street (btw. 2nd and 3rd)
9pm show (I go on at 11)

If you're there, dear reader, wink four times during my set. Then I'll know you're a reader of my infamous blog. So I'll pull out all the stops on my routine. And probably be a little stressed out, because you've already read half my jokes.

So if i forget a punchline, I'll know who to look to.

I did stand-up comedy on the subway yesterday. The New York City subway, in fact.

I don't really have any jokes about this. I just thought you should know. Because, judging by the emails, you people are awfully interested in my life.

And I was all excited about it. "What an adventurous thing to do," I thought. "Such great material I will get from this!" I even considered starting a new blog called "The Subway Chronicles" to share my experiences as a subway stand-up comedian with the world.

Well, I decided against that idea. But, for you, I will create a few sample entries:

Sunday February 1, 2004

Did comedy on the subway today. Performed on upwards of 50 cars. No one laughed.


Tuesday February 3, 2004

Performed comedy on the subway today. Heckled by a homeless man. Maybe next time I get the urge to do this, I'll get a root canal instead.


Friday February 6, 2004

Performed "comedy" on the subway today. Kiss my ass, New York.


Saturday February 7, 2004

Slammed my finger in the door today. The bad news is that I think I broke it. The good news is that it's slightly less painful than doing comedy on the subway.

You get the point. I'll be performing on the subway again on Tuesday. God knows why. If you see me on the subway, please laugh. With me, not at me.