I don’t care if the store manager is looking right at me.
“Yeah, those are my peaches on top of the Pennzoil. What about it?
I can’t straighten out your whole inventory.
I’m busy here reading magazines I’m not going to buy either.”
Supermarket Rubber Dividers
I also like those little rubber dividers they give you at the checkout.
Because you want your items,
and you want a little property there too.
Set up your rubber fence.
You don’t want other people’s items fraternizing with your items, do you?
There are two ways to use the rubber divider.
Sometimes you can put it down on the conveyor belt as most people do, or I just hold it in my hand,
(pointing with it)
“Hey, your potato chips are kind of creeping up on my box of donuts there, pal.
You want to back it off a bit?
Little cozy there, don’t you think?
(hits him on the head)
Hey—TOK.
You listening to me?”
You need a little police action on these checkout lines, sometimes.
“Excuse me—TOK
13 items, buddy boy, you’re over.
Count them up, read the sign, hit the road.
—TOK
I said move it.”
Milk After the Day
You ever just stare at the milk in the supermarket wondering,
“Do we have milk?
Do we need milk?”
Even right now, I’m trying to think if I have enough milk and I really have no idea.
Because sometimes you think you have milk and you don’t have milk.
You have the bowl set up, the cereal, the spoon, the napkin, the TV, the newspaper.
You go to pick up the milk, and you smash it into the roof of the refrigerator.
“Oh noo… too… light…”
Your muscles can’t adjust to something that light.
No matter how little you work out—you’re too strong.
And no, I don’t throw it out.
I put it back in the refrigerator.
In case I get an urge for a sixteenth of an oatmeal cookie.
I might need an eyedropper of milk for it.
You have weird breakfasts when you’re out of milk.
Three Kraft Singles and some tap water.
* * *
Or sometimes you think you need milk.
So you get milk.
But it turns out you had milk.
And now you’ve got way too much milk.
That’s not good either.
Now, it’s a race against the clock with the expiration date.
Now, you’re eating giant punch bowls of cereal.
Three meals a day.
You’re washing your face with milk.
Bringing cats in from all over the neighborhood.
“Hurry up and drink it!
Come on, it’s almost time!
(one cat wanders away, it gets picked up)
Get back over here…”
How do they know that that is the definite exact day?
They don’t say “around” that day.
They brand it right into the side of the carton.
“Ssssssssss…”
“That’s your god damn day right there!
Don’t screw with us.
We know which day is the day.”
You ever have milk the day after the day?
Scares the hell out of you, doesn’t it?
The spoon is trembling as it comes out of the bowl.
“It’s after the day.”
“Did you smell it?”
“I smelled it.
You smell it.
What’s it supposed to smell like?
I don’t know what I’m smelling for.
It smelled like milk.
I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here.”
I don’t know how they can be so sure.
Do the cows tip them off when they’re milking them…?
(slow turn of the head backwards)
“… July… 3rd…”
Milk Monitor
No matter how much money I ever had, I’d never want a butler or a maid.
But I would pay to have a Milk Monitor.
Just a guy to stand by the refrigerator in an all-white suit, white shoes, white cap.
24 hours a day.
Then as I walk out the door he goes,
“You’re okay for tomorrow.”
I would pay for that.
Coffee World
Two things I’ve noticed:
There’s a lot of jobs in the world.
And there’s a lot of coffee.
Every building I’ve ever been in has coffee.
Every door I’ve ever opened in my life,
somebody on the other side of it went,
“Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“Can we get you some coffee?”
“How about coffee?”
“Fresh coffee?”
“Had coffee?”
“Need coffee?”
“More coffee?”
You can lift up a manhole cover,
(looking up)
“We just made a fresh pot, would you like some?
Decaf?
Next sewer.”
People have coffee at home, coffee at work.
A mug on the dashboard of the car in case they can’t make it.
Maybe we should have scuba tanks of coffee on our backs so we can just breathe it?
We used to have coffee breaks.
Now, it’s all coffee.
No break.
There’s Coffee Trucks.
Trucks of coffee driving around.
Just looking for people that want coffee.
To make sure everyone has coffee.
“Please stay where you are.
We have trucks in your area.
They will find you.”
Only coffee has trucks like this.
There’s no Broccoli Trucks.
“Beep, beep.”
“Broccoli truck!”
Nobody comes out…
Mr. Coffee
I went to buy a coffee machine the other day.
I like coffee.
But these coffee machines never let you forget how much you need coffee.
I saw one machine,
BREWMASTER.
You wake up in the morning,
“Yes… BREWMASTER… I—will—make—a—full—pot—today.”
MR. COFFEE.
I’m not even on a first-name basis with this one.
“Think I’ll have a cup of coffee.”
“Hey, that’s ‘MR.’ Coffee to you, pal.”
Post Office Annoyed
Why is it as soon as I walk in the post office,
I’m immediately annoyed?
I could be feeling good, having a good day.
As soon as I’m in that door, I’m just…
“Oh well, I guess all these people here are ahead of me…
Fine.
I’ll just wait, then…
I will wait.
Because they got here a little bit before I did.
That’s—just—great.”
You know how you yell at people sometimes inside your head?
It’s a good technique.
Keeps the world from being just an endless river of murder and bloodshed.
The post office is great for that.
All the people working behind the counter,
“Yeah, take a little bit longer giving that guy his change…
Oh terrific, now go in the back for 20 minutes and look for nothing in particular.
Great.
Wonderful.
I don’t care.
I have no life and nothing else to do.
I’d like to stay on this line for the rest of the year if I can.”
&nb
sp; * * *
On the outside, you’re just standing there holding your package.
Very placid expression…
On the inside, screaming at the top of your lungs,
(COME ON!!! MOVE UP!!! THERE’S A GAP IN FRONT OF YOU!!)
Everybody in front of you that gets to the counter at the post office
has some sort of problem with their package.
“I’m not sure about this knot I made here.”
“I forgot to brush my teeth before I licked the stamp, do you think that’ll affect the glue?”
Once, I gave the guy the package, he puts it on a table behind him.
Then I ask him,
“When do you think it’ll get there?”
He turned around, looked at the package.
Then turned back to me and said,
“A few days.”
What was he looking at?
Like he was going to ask the package,
“When do you plan on leaving?”
Why doesn’t he just tell the truth?
“Look, I don’t know. Nobody knows.
You think if we had any idea what we were doing here FedEx and UPS would be so huge?”
Watching postal employees work is like watching a lava lamp, isn’t it?
They’re just floating and oozing around back there.
I think there’s a big lightbulb in the back.
That heats them up so they kind of float up to the front.
Sell a few books of stamps, then they cool and slowly drift into the back again.
That’s how the postal system works.
Post Office Wanted Posters
Why are there Wanted posters at the post office?
You’re there.
You’ve got your package.
You’re trying to mail something.
This guy’s wanted in 12 states.
All right… Now what?
I check the guy standing in line behind me.
If it’s not him, that’s pretty much all I can do.
What, are we supposed to rip one off the wall, go up to the counter,
“Yeah, give me a book of stamps and a search warrant.
I’m going after this guy.
I’ve had it up to here with his activities.”
Why don’t they hold on to this guy when they’re taking his picture?
THE GUY IS THERE WITH YOU.
Come out from behind the camera, and GRAB him.
“No, we don’t do that.
We take their picture.
We let them go.
That’s the way we’ve always done it.
That’s how we get the front and side shot.
The front is his face.
The side is him leaving.”
Why don’t they put the pictures of the criminals on the postage stamps?
Let the postman look for him.
He’s out there walking around all day.
He’s got the uniform on.
Can’t he do something?
“We got a letter for you, Mr. Johnso—
… WAIT A MINUTE…!”
Newspapers Perfect Fit
What amazes me about the newspaper is that somehow,
every day,
no matter what goes on in the world,
it exactly fits the number of pages they’re using in the paper that day.
How does that always work out?
They never have big blank spots where nothing happened.
Never have to cram things in the margins
because there’s too much occurring.
It’s a perfect fit, every time.
They must stand around after each edition and go,
“I can’t believe we just made it again.
Hurry up and get the paper out before there’s any more stories.
If one more thing took place, we’d be screwed.
We’d have to put it in the crossword puzzle.”
Execution Style
On the news they’ll say that someone was murdered “Execution style.”
What are the other styles?
Ranch?
Thousand Island?
Homestyle?
How would you kill someone homestyle?
Just pull the belt on their bathrobe tighter and tighter?
“There’s only one thing that can leave a mark like that on a body.
Terry cloth.
This man was murdered homestyle.”
Earthquake
I read a report about an earthquake where local officials trying to explain the damage said,
“The earthquake wasn’t that bad.
It’s just that the buildings weren’t designed to withstand earthquakes.”
Would you accept an explanation like that in a courtroom?
“Your Honor, my client didn’t murder this man.
His body simply wasn’t designed to withstand bullets.”
The Button
So, they have this special military person that’s with the President all the time.
He’s got The Button.
This guy’s always there.
I think, wouldn’t it be better to give the button to some guy
who’s almost impossible to get ahold of?
“Did you tell him to push the button?”
“I can’t find him.
I just left a message on his machine.
I told him, when he comes in
to make sure and blow up the entire world.”
Campaign ’88
I bet a lot of Americans are thinking the same thing about it.
In the back of your mind you’re like,
“I’m sure once the actual election rolls around, there’ll be other choices.
Once the word gets out that they’re hiring Presidents,
there’ll probably be lots of new people coming in.
I’m sure these are just placeholders for now, probably.”
Just the fact that someone thinks they should be the President
is proof that they’re quite mentally off.
What kind of person is this?
That sits around,
“Let’s see, who should be the most powerful person in government?
Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces?
Leader of the Free World?
You know, I’ve got to say… that sounds like me.
It sounds like something I would be good at.
I really strike myself as the best person there could possibly be for that kind of job.”
No, you’re not.
You’re sick and deranged.
Who could be friends with this person?
You’re at a ballgame,
“You know, I was thinking about being the most powerful person in the world.”
You go,
“Uh-huh…
I was thinking about getting a hot dog.”
Moose Air Lift
Did anyone see the moose air lift report?
I saw it on CNN.
I like to just leave it on in the background.
It’s like News-Zak.
Background news.
So apparently there was some sort of moose problem.
And they had to move these mooses by helicopter.
One by one.
They’d put one in a harness.
And then they moved him, hanging from cables underneath the helicopter.
Here is an animal that’s been on the ground for thousands of years as a species.
Suddenly he’s hundreds of feet in the air.
And the look on his face was so funny.
He was looking around like,
“Well, I guess I can fly now…
I must have eaten some kind of a weird berry or something.
I’m Super Moose.
I must devote the rest of my life to fighting moose crime.”
He tries changing directions by swinging his legs.
Nothing happens.
“I’m sor
ry, I don’t know how to work this thing…
I just got these powers today.”
Foam Balls
News people are getting more aggressive each year.
You can tell, even the foam balls on their microphones are getting bigger.
That’s probably how news people talk about each other.
“Boy, how about the foam balls on that guy?
He really got his question in there.”
I don’t even know what those foam balls are for.
I think it’s so they can bop people over the head and get their attention without hurting them.
“Hey, (bop) I asked you a question.
Excuse me, (bop) Senator.
(bop) Sir.
I was just wondering (bop) over here.
If you could just tell us (bop) … what we want to know…”
Stand by Me
I saw that movie Stand by Me.
Good movie.
But I don’t remember having friends like that when I was 12 years old.
Where they put their hand on your shoulder,
“You know god has given you a special talent.”
I remember a kid would put his hand on my shoulder
so he could push me off the sidewalk into the bushes.
“You know, god has given you a face for the bushes.”
Star Trek
I keep my apartment neat.
My idea of the perfect living room would be the bridge of the starship Enterprise.
Big chair.
Wide screen.
Remote control.
Star Trek was such a perfect male fantasy.
Hurtling through space.
In your living room.
Watching TV.
That’s why all the aliens were always dropping in.
Because Kirk was the only one that had the big screen.
“Klingon boxing?
Awesome.
Let’s watch at yours.”
Talk Show Host
How come talk show hosts never have any idea how much time they have?
They’re always looking off camera…
“Do we have time for this?
How are we doing on time?
Are we out of time?”
IT’S YOUR OWN SHOW.
Why do you know nothing about how it works?
You never see Magnum, PI, go,
Is This Anything? Page 8