A True Thing About Me That I'm Unlikely to Mention on a First Date.....

I'm such a slob that, in college, fraternities made their pledges clean my dorm room as part of the hazing process.

No really.

Just thought you'd like to know.

(NOTE: I am working WAY too much. Children's theatre actor by day, teacher by afternoon and evening, and comedian by night. That means posting may be sporatic. Oh, and for those of you that are keeping track, I'm playing a Mouse this time. A frighteningly cute mouse, really. In a dress. And little ballet slippers. Oh, it's hard to explain....)

I had to pull this out of the archives for today's special holiday....

I think that a good recycling idea for Earth Day would be to cut all the "B"s off Happy Birthday banners.

Happy Irthday.

I like watching the credits at the ends of movies.

I can only assume that credits are there so that, if I really really like a movie an extra-special lot, I can look up the phone numbers of all the people on the credits and call them. You know, to thank them personally for making such an extra-specially great movie.

"Hi. Is this Louis Krazney? The Key Grip on "Sideways"? Well, I just wanted to say thanks. I mean, it was a good movie. Hey, you don't happen to have the Best Boy's phone number do you?"

I wish that we had credits for other things.

This happy meal was brought to you by:

Fries: Bill Jennings

Lettuce and Tomatoes: Jeannie Donahue

Soft Drink Engineer: Alan Thomas

And...

Pickles: Lisa "Pickles" Danowski

Oh, by the way, this blog was brought to you by....me. Jill Twiss. I'm the writer. I also did the editing. And the lighting. Not to mention the special effects. It's rather remarkable that I get out of the house at all, now that I think about it.

A Thing I Just Did.....

I was watching Comedy Central last night, and listening to this guy do a whole routine on steak and eggs, and I was like, "This guy isn't funny at ALL. He doesn't have ANY punchlines. I'm TOTALLY funnier than him."

Then I realized I was actually watching the Food Network.

Sigh....

Taxes make me want to throw up.

This is, I think, because taxes combine the two things I hate the most:

1) Someone taking my money

2) Math

(By the way, if I got to have a third thing that I hate the most, it would be mayonnaise.)

You know, if a thief was taking my money, at least he would have the common courtesy not to make me do math. And a math teacher would never steal all of my money. Thusly, it is only the U.S. government that is cruel and unusual enough to do both of these things at the very same time. At once. In unison. In perfect harmony. Or something such-like.

I know what you're thinking. Jill, you're a stand-up comedian. You don't HAVE any money. Homeless people have more money than you do. Dead people have more money than you do. Dead homeless people would have more money than you, except that the other homeless people steal it right out of their dead, homeless pockets.

This is, in fact, an accurate assessment. I don't have any money. I'm like those children in third-world countries that can live for months and months for "just the price of a cup of coffee." Well, really expensive coffee, probably. Maybe laced with cocaine.

Yet somehow, according to my tremendous math skills, I owe SCADS of money to the government. LOADS of it. Oodles. Tons. Gobs. Wads.

(NOTE: It is possible that I just discovered the thesaurus on my computer.)

So yeah, if there happen to be any brilliant tax experts amongst my readers, perhaps they can help me by answering a simple tax question:

If I have worked approximately fourteen separate jobs in the past year, and thirteen of them did not give me W-2 forms and one of them actually paid me in blank checks and nobody took out any taxes, how high should I turn the oven before I stick my head in it?

That's all I want to know.

(Mayonnaise. Yuck.)

Two surprise added bonus shows this weekend:

Friday and Saturday, April 8-9
Circles Comedy Club
300 West Service Road
Staten Island, New York
10pm show

I walked by a sign today that said the following: "No Parking on Sidewalk. Violators Will be Towed"

Sigh....only in New York.

Wait, let me clarify that.

I don't mean that it's only in New York that you're not allowed to park on the sidewalk.

I mean that it's only in New York City that people would see a sidewalk, park their car on it, and when people complained, say, "Well, there's no SIGN there."

Some days I hate New York.

I went on a date last night.

Not a good date, mind you. More like a "Would-He-Notice-If-I-Stabbed-Myself-In-The-Eye-With-This-Fork" kind of date. An "I-Hope-I-Get-Food-Poisoning-So's-I-Can-Leave-Early" kind of date. An "Is-It-Worth-It-To-Make-Out-With-Him-Just-So-He'll-Stop-Talking" kind of date. An "A-Jury-Would-Totally-Understand-If-I-Killed-This-Guy" kind of date. An "I've-Heard-That-You-Can-Actually-Swallow-Your-Own-Tongue-If-You-Try" kind of date.

I think you know what kind of date I mean.

But there's good news (there's always good news if you eat seven or eight Pixie Stix before you sit down to write.) The good news is that, through the miracle of science and Pixie Stix, I have developed cutting-edge technology that magically recorded each and every single one of my thoughts throughout the date.

And though I considered using this cutting-edge technology to write a best selling book ("Women are From Venus, Men are From Somewhere That Makes Me Want to Stick a Fork in My Eye,") I instead decided to share that information with you tonight.

And thusly, here are excerpts from my date.

HIM: Hey, it's good to see you. How are you?

ME: I'm fine. You?

HIM: blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah....

ME: Uh huh. Uh huh. Oh yeah? Bunions? That must hurt.....

MY BRAIN: Isn't "pilates" a fun word? I like to SAY pilates but I don't like to DO pilates. I think, though, that you burn the same amount of calories either way. Saying or doing. Yes, I feel pretty sure that's true. I couldn't make up those kind of facts, could I? No. Impossible...

ME: Wow, that IS fascinating. I never knew that an appendix could cause that much trouble....

MY BRAIN: Pilates pilates pilates. This IS fun. I could do this all day....I keep hearing about women trapped in men's bodies. Is it possible that I could be an Asian trapped in a white person's body? I am pretty good at math. Or maybe I'm African. Yes, I think I am...

ME: Yeah, elementary school can be tough....

MY BRAIN: I think I would like the word "pirates" better if it was pronounced like "pilates." Piratees. AARGH MATIE, I'M A PIRATEE!

ME: Uh huh. No no, let's talk more about you....

MY BRAIN: I totally would have seen that Johnny Depp movie if it had been "Piratees of the Carribean." I think they have too many colors of Gatorade now. I wonder what would happen if you froze milk. Could you have milksicles? What about chocolate milk?

Yes, you've gotten the point.

Oh and if my date from last night reads this, this isn't about you. It was the other guy I went out with last night. The boring one. For reals. I was fascinated by everything YOU told me.

Piratees. Tee hee.