So here's the thing.

I start training for a new job tomorrow morning (well, in about 6 hours, really.)

But before the training begins, I am supposed to have "read and memorized" seventeen pounds of books.

Now usually when I say things like "seventeen pounds of books" I am exaggerating. Exaggeration is an excellent comedic device.

But this time I really mean seventeeen pounds of books. I know this because I checked the weight on the FedEx package they were sent in.

I do NOT know how much 17 pounds is in grams or kilograms or centigrade or whatever, but I do know that when I stack up the books (and I do that sometimes instead of reading them), they reach my knees.

And I do know that that's exactly 16 pounds more books than I can seem to "read" and "memorize" in the five days they gave me.

So I hope you understand why I haven't been writing. But I will be. 'Cause probably they'll fire me tomorrow.

But if they DON'T fire me, I shall be getting paid lots more for doing lots less work. Which means oodles more time for comedy and writing and blogging and making out.

Cross your fingers, please.

Q: What do you get when you mix two glasses of wine with a distinct lack of sleep?

A: A really crappy blog entry.


You've been a great audience. Thank you and good night.

The Patriot Act is up for renewal.

If you're not from America, the Patriot Act is a lovely law that says the following:

"If you really love America, then you will let the government spy on you."

It's a little bit like passing a law to run over people with a bus and calling it the Transportation Act.

In any case, I can't say I care much about it either way since I only dream of having a life exciting enough that anyone should want to spy on it. I suspect the government agent assigned to my life spends most of the day filing his nails and eating toast and wondering how I can go so long without ever doing laundry. (NOTE: If you turn your underwear inside out, it's pretty much clean again for another day, really.)

Anyway, the part of the Patriot Act that has people up in arms this week is the part where it says that the government can look at our library records. This is very distressing for many people. Especially the people, I suspect, who checked out "Growing Up Brady".

I, on the other hand, have nothing to hide. So I've decided to share here and now exactly what the U.S. Government would find out if they decide to check my library records.

1) One time I checked out the soundtrack to "Dirty Dancing." Horrifying? Yes. But it doesn't necessarily mean I'm a terrorist.

2) I tend to think of the library less as a "Place To Borrow Books," and more as a "Place To Get Books That I Take Home And Accidentally Bury Under A Pile Of Fascinating Things And Don't Find Again For Two Years." Semantics.

So there, government. Take that! I like listening to "I've Had the Time of My Life." Ha!! And I can use several exclamation points in a row!!!! Ha again!!

Ooh, one more thing. I'd like to think that if there is a CIA operative following me around and spying on my life.....well, I'd like to think that his code name for me is "Doodlebug."

I bet it is.

Yes yes.

As of midnight last night, I'm home sweet home.

I did not explode once.

Well, maybe once.

In any case, I shall get back to writing once I sleep diligently for seven years.

Till then, I shall leave you with this original joke from a 10-year-old in one of my stand-up classes:

What do you get when you mix an angel with a buffalo?

Buffalo Wings.

Tee hee.

Tomorrow I shall leave you for an entire week.

I'll be upstate (away from internet AND cell phone access) teaching a stand-up comedy course. Or rather six of them. Every day.

By the time I get home I shall be so filled with humor that the mere act of sitting down at the keyboard shall make me giggle with joy. Yes, that is what I anticipate.

Either that, or I shall find many MORE people that I want to punch in the head. And that could be fun as well. I have, after all, studied many martial arts like Tae Bo. Also Feng Shui.

But maybe while I'm gone you could all leave me a nice comment. Something like, "Dear Jill, I hope you do not explode whilst teaching stand-up comedy upstate." That would make me happy.

So buh bye and all. I'll see you in a week. Mwah.

All I want to say is that some people just NEED to be punched in the head.

For their own good.

And the good of mankind.

It's best for everyone, really. I assure you.

Just wanted to give you the heads-up.

With the whole Watergate thing back in the news, I think we need to do some real thinking about the serious implications of using anonymous sources.

I propose this: I think all anonymous news sources should be named after porn movies.

I would be MUCH more likely to read the news if it said things like, "According to confidential sources, 'Caligula' and 'Sorority Slut Gang Bang'...."

Yes yes.

My friend's little sister just had a wedding.

One where somebody married her and everything. Flowers, and dresses, and bride-kissing galore.

Even though, as far as I can recall, she's still like twelve years old.

But that's not important. What IS important is this: at this so-called-wedding, she had a chocolate fountain.

Yes, that's right. I said it. A chocolate fountain.

And just in case you think that "chocolate fountain" is a slang term for something vulgar and fascinating, it means this: A FOUNTAIN FILLED WITH CHOCOLATE.

For reals. Chocolate just spouting out of a fountain like it has nothing better to do all day. Like it's saying, "Hey, I'm SICK of getting molded into Easter Bunnies. And who wants to cover raisins? Not me. Nope, I'm spending all day hangin' out at the Fountain."

I am, needless to say, enthralled by this idea.

I think that chocolate fountains are God's way of saying, "Here's your reward for not punching that guy in the face when he took your parking spot. And letting the air out of his tires was really a totally acceptable compromise."

Well, hearing about this chocolate fountain was a real turning point in my life.

It made me realize something: I need a goal in life. A goal to keep me working hard, writing lots, and being terribly motivated.

And my newly discovered goal in life is to have a chocolate fountain party of my very own.

So I'm vowing this before God and all my blog readers: When I get my first real-live comedy TV appearance (Premium Blend, Letterman, Tonight Show, etc.), I shall have a giant party, complete with a chocolate fountain.

I shall.

And you shall all be invited.