If you’ve gotten this far you might be saying, “Hey Rick, not a whole lotta funny going on in those posts. I thought you’re a comedy writer.” Duly noted ya prick, BUT in my defense I’ll say the purpose of the posts are to share some of my personal experiences/observations about being homeless, not to produce a welt on your leg from all the knee-slapping hilarity contained therein. So I’ve put together below, a few of my comedy thoughts. All taken from my phone notebook, so these are completely random in nature. It’s just shit I think of during the day. Let the psychoanalysis begin.

The phrase, “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on” always gets a chuckle from me. How do you think the horse feels about it? You have Diamond Jim standing around talking to Nellie Belle and he goes, “So the other day I go into town for some shoes and a brushing. And you know every now and again I give that old fat bastard a ride, right? I mean, since I’m already going that way. So we head into town and he goes off to do whatever. I’m at the trough, doing a little carb-loading, when he comes back. And he’s got these people screaming at him. They’re really mad about something. Then, they start yelling at ME! And it’s mean stuff; like curse words and everything. I’m like, ‘What the hell did I do? I just gave this guy a lift. I barely know him!’ Slow Poke pulling the milk truck was no help. He had blinders on and couldn’t even see what the hell was going on. It was just me and that heart attack waiting to happen, against a mob! So I tell ya what, I’m done with Albuquerque, Missy. I’m not going to subject myself to unwarranted abuse. Fuck it. I’ll go the extra 2 days to Yuma.”

I once answered an escort ad promising the “girlfriend experience”. She took $300, denied me sex, and reminded me we’re having dinner with her mother on Saturday.

Everything that’s wrong with Hollywood can be summed up in four words: Batman TV Theme Residuals. The guy who got that writing assignment probably toiled for hours and had nothing. The deadline came and he just turned in a page with a single word typed…Batman.  The Executive Producer was so impressed he immediately gave him a new assignment. “I don’t expect lightning to strike twice Son, but here’s our show for the Fall, The Green Hornet.”

In that same vein, the opening to Superman wasn’t much better. “Look, up in the sky. It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s Superman!” How big were the goddamn birds in the 50’s that they were frequently mistaken for planes? In my entire life I’ve never looked skyward and said, “Hey that 747 sure is flying erratically…Oh it’s just a sparrow. My bad.” You know who is glad Superman is fictional? Admiral Peary. Can you imagine getting to the North Pole, losing men and dogs along the way, and you’re finally ready to plant that glorious American flag into the ice, when you see off in the distance…the Fortress Of Solitude. Guy would have to think, “Oh fuck me raw!”.

Sensitive to adult content? Skip ahead to the next paragraph. I know it’s been discussed by others, but everything about Superman was “super”, right? It stands to reason his orgasms would be equally super. As Superboy he couldn’t even jerk off at night in secrecy, because there’s no way Superboy was a dribbler. He was a shooter damnit! Around 10 PM Martha Kent would be knitting in her rocking chair, Jonathan listening to the radio. Martha: Jon, I think it’s time you had that talk with the boy. Jonathan: Another hole in the roof? Martha: Yep.

A guy is crossing at an intersection and sees you waiting on him so you can turn right. He picks up the pace to a slow trot. I like that guy. He’s considerate. The guy I DON’T like is the one who continues the trot for a couple of steps after he’s reached the sidewalk and then gives you a smug look as if to say, “See that? I went even farther. I could have gone an extra lane if I wanted, possibly two. I’m in THAT kind of shape!”

You see the lady in the Tampax Pearl commercial going down the water slide? Boy she’s having fun. She’s having so much fun I bought one and shoved it up my ass. I’ll go on record and say the commercial is a bit of an exaggeration.

The very first fart must have caused a lot of anxiety in the cave. 2 AM, guy lets one fly and the rest of the cave is alarmed. They jump up with their spears poised, ready for a fight to the death. Everybody except Grog, who just lies under his pelt giggling.