Edtior’s Note: We don’t really have an editor, it’s just me writing in italics. Italics feel classy for some reason.
This post is dedicated to one of my favorite comedians, Louis CK. Louis, if you are reading this, WOW you’re jobless.
They could say all they wanted, but old Rudy would keep trying all the time. Rudy used to love playing basketball. The only problem was he was 5’3. Well, actually there was one more problem. He couldn’t play basketball for shit.
The problem with the world is that they love a feel good story too much. People love backing the underdog so much that sometimes the underdog becomes the favorite and the favorite becomes the underdog. I am not a betting man but I am batman.
Rudy sucked big time at playing basketball. He was the most terrible player you could imagine. Imagine my 70 year old, arthritis stricken grandma trying to play basketball. She would still play better than Rudy. Because my grandma is Lebron James. I advised her to ditch the Heat and move backs to the Cavs.
So Rudy tried.
And tried and tried and tried.
And tried till poor old Rudy died.
His last words before his death?
“I should have tried some meth.”
And everybody mourned his passing
His death, I mean. Not his basketball passing.
Coz poor old Rudy was a terrible player
Who’s sole passion was listening to Slayer.
But poor old Rudy was not so poor
Coz he had hidden bloodmoney in the floor
It turned out he was a cold hearted mercenary
Whose death was just an epiphany.
There is a house in New Orleans,
Because New Orleans is a city and cities have houses.
My name is Slim Shady and I am the oracle
Coz life is like a flat circle.
But more was yet to come. When Rudy’s will was read out, it was discovered that Rudy was actually Batman.
Does whatever a spider can
Spins a web, any size,
Catches thieves just like flies
Here comes the Spiderman.
I am Louis CK and I can do only one character.
They took away his home.
They took away his family.
They took away his car.
But one thing they couldn’t take away,
Was his self respect.
Because self respect has no monetary value. Banks will only take something that they can either sell or use as a collateral when you can’t pay back the loans. And self respect just doesn’t have any monetary value. Like MasterCard says, somethings are priceless. Self respect is like that. You’d like to think it’s because money can’t buy it but it’s actually because its worthless.
Coming to a theatre near you, this fall.
This is Sarah Koenig and you’re listening to Serial, one story told week by week.
Serial is sponsored by MailChimp. Send better Imps.
This is the story of one guy. One guy who had a dream. His dream was to be a standup comic. That guy was not me.
“So 2 jews, 3 priests and 58 horse walk into a bar. The gay guy says to the bartender . . . .wait wait shit I’m sorry. There was a gay guy too. So a gay guy, 2 jews, 3 priests and 58 horses walk into a bar. And the bartender says “Man I think I should stop dropping acid” and then one of the horses knifes him.”
“Whats the difference between a lawyer and an asshole? The asshole takes offence to being compared to a lawyer.”
“Whats the difference between a quarter and a dime? What do I look like, a mathematician?”
“What do you call an Arsenal supporter who is a bellend? An arsenal supporter”
“How did the hipster burn his tongue? He drank the coffee before it was cool.”
This week’s presentation is brought to you by Microsoft Powerpoint. Duh.
*Still no response*
*if they didn’t answer the first 2 times, what makes you think that they’re gonna answer now?*
*4 hours later*
“Of course foreigners steal your jobs.
But maybe if someone without contacts, money or speaking the language steals the job, you’re shit?”