"The Fiona Apple of Comedy"

Extreme Blogging!


Can you hear me now? LOL!

“Get down from there, Eric! You’re going to get hurt!”

Nuts to you, squares. I live my life on the edge. To the extreme. 24/7.

I snapped this pic at the Stratosphere in Las Vegas. If you have to ask me why I would take such risks just to get a cool selfie for my blog, I’m not going to explain it to you, because you probably wouldn’t get it anyway.

Besides, how do you know I wasn’t just trying to get better reception on my phone and hit the camera button by accident? LOL. Nah, just kidding.

The thing is, I laugh at death. You people are like a walking talking Woody Allen movie. The fear of death affects everything you do.

You sit there in your cubicle for eight hours a day, just so you can drive your minivan home and watch NCIS: Los Angeles while you drink your 55 calorie light beer.

You just don’t understand. You’re all sheep.

You’ve never climbed over the fence at the zoo and punched a tiger in the face. The craziest thing you’ve ever done is brush your teeth with the tap water, instead of the bottled water they provide you when you went on vacation to that all-inclusive resort in Mexico.

People like you are perfectly content to spin your wheels and let life pass you by. Well, your version of life. Not mine.

How are you ever going to know what your life is really worth unless you almost lose it doing something foolhardy like having sex with a great white shark? Seriously, it didn’t even feel that good. But it wasn’t about that. I was literally hanging my manhood out there on the line just for the pure thrill of it.

You can’t know what that’s like, but you’re going to sit here and judge me? You’re a bunch of insurance salesman, living by your actuarial tables and I’m this summer intern you all thought was a stoner, but now you come to see my buffet cover band every Friday, completely oblivious to the fact that I’m in the back banging your wife while Jonesy does his drum solo.

You don’t even know how much you owe me. You need me to BASE jump off a radio tower in the middle of Russia so you can watch Leno make a joke about it while you sit back in the comfort of you 600 thread count sheets and your goose down pillows.

All so you can think about yourself having the balls to do something like that for 2 seconds,get freaked out and then reassure yourself that you decided to do the right thing, taking that job at Enterprise Rent-A-Car and not making your wife get that abortion because then you wouldn’t have your precious little angels and all the other responsibilities that come with being a fucking zombie! And plus, that shark never called me back anyway!

God, I’m so lonely.

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