Retired bits

New year. Time to weed out some shit that isn't working. Here are bits I'll no longer attempt on stage. May they live a happy life in the dusty archives of this obscure blog. And if you want to steal them, go ahead. Just be forewarned they don't work. Not even on paper.

It's nice when people knit you Christmas gifts, but don't you get the feeling that if it was well-made and pretty, they would have kept it? Like someone's really going to give you the best pair of gloves they ever made. Most of the knitted stuff I've gotten is usually, "Here's a hat I made out of horse hair -- I didn't realize why it was on sale for 5 cents a skein at Hobby Lobby until I tried it on. Also, a scarf that I gave up on, so it's really just a small, oblong, extremely flammable pot holder."

I wish someone would have made an "It gets better" video for me, even though I'm not gay. Not for people like me, but me, specifically. I needed some celebrity help to get me through some of the random beatings I received in school. I don't know who would have been doing those videos in the '80s. Maybe Tom Selleck. Anyway, he could have helped me out with why I once had to spend a whole day being mercilessly teased and then getting the shit kicked out of me just because I didn't know it was Opposite Day. See, when you're gay, you grow up to find out that's a real thing. After decades of looking at calendars, I'm pretty sure there's no such thing as Opposite Day. At least not officially -- although some Election Days seem like they might have qualified. Anyway, just one video would have helped where the star said, "I know it's hard. I know you're getting kicked and screaming 'no no no please stop' and all the bullies are laughing because they think you're really saying 'yes yes yes please continue', but the good news is, it's Opposite Day, so all those kicks are really kisses. The bad news is, you just spent 30 minutes getting kissed on the playground by eight different boys, so you're probably gay. But that gets better, too."

Stop talking to the dogs. Just stop it. Maybe some commands or whatever but they don’t understand English, or German, or anything but other dog barks. And even if they did, they are all batshit insane from inbreeding and the confusing fucking civilized world we’ve trapped them in. Dogs are all insane, and their brains don’t do language. In fact, when a dog thinks – think about this – they think in barks. All day long, their dog brains are barking at them. Imagine going through the day like that.

I would like to see the Price is Right have a day in which all the prizes come from the Salvation Army. Let’s give the college students a leg up on the housewives. The Showcase Showdown could be a living room set that consists of four bookcases and a busted coffee table. Winning bid: ennnhh… eleven bucks.

Technically speaking, pooping is an all-natural weight-loss program. A shake for breakfast, a shake for lunch, a sensible dinner, and all day long you just feel those pounds drop away, a few ounces at a time. And yes, pooping. Shitting is not weight loss. Shitting is an act of aggression against the world. Pooping is much more zen. Shit is propelled from your body with as much force as you can muster. Poops just plop. Hold on, I only need to think of one more poop joke for my act to qualify for Third Grade Career Day. “What do you do, Mr. Magyar?” “Well, kids, settle in for a vocab lesson. That thing you used to do in your pants? We’re like Eskimos and snow with that shit. Yes, shit. Let’s start there…”

There are certain clichés that I really hate. Like, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” That’s bullshit. Making lemonade is just tarting up a perfectly good lump of sugar and trying to sell it for a nickel profit. Why are you fucking up life’s sugar just because of life’s lemons? So you can sell life lemonade? You life whore. I’m sorry, but when life gives you lemons, fucking give them back. Get store credit. Buy kale and eat that. You’ll live longer.