Bo Burnham is a comedy genius.
A man says to his psychiatrist, “It was terrible. I was away on business and I emailed my wife to say I’d be back a day early. I rushed home from the airport and found her in bed with my best friend. I don’t get it. How could she do this to me?” “Well,” says the psychiatrist, “She probably didn’t see the email.”
Darling doesn’t “get” the escalator.
Sometimes when a group here is more arguing than discussing, I play at my living room desk work station place of power thing some repetitively insidious music with loud obnoxiousness and I announce, “Alright. So. We’re listening now only to House Music. Until shit gets resolved.” People really scramble then. Works every goddamned time.
Love this man. A new favourite standup.
Sometimes people shit on each other.
What the elusive ladyboner looks like. The way she traces her neck with such dreaminess in fingers. The feigned lack of noticing, sense of disruption and stiff dismissal from The Admired. That wistful afterwards longing look to end all longing in looks when love’s back is turned. I could gaze at this GIF for days. Everything here is good.
Dude I was just drinking a cock and jizz exploded all over my face! Oh dammit! I meant coke! And fizz! Screw this auto cucumber! Auto cucumber. God donut. Fuck! I give up
Candy is good,
in the mouth.
The police were called to a house to settle a domestic battery case wherein a man smashed his boyfriend’s face in with a plate. When the police inquired as to the reason for the violence, the perpetrator blamed Alanis Morissette, he said that’s all this motherfucker ever plays.