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My Bling

In Indonesia, I am a millionaire. Everyone should be a millionaire at least once in their life. It’s amazing. The beaches, the jet-setting, the food. Anytime I wanted, I could go out and blow 5,000 Rupiah on food and another 1,500 on drinks alone. I was ballin’.

But now I am in New York City, trying to make something happen. Not ballin’, barely employed. I was a cook once and I really liked it. But i didn’t love it, at least not enough to pursue it as a profession. If it was the internet boom, I’d make money hand over fist with my tepid HTML and CSS skills. But it isn’t, so I am left to my own devices – scouring Craigslist wishing I had eggs to sell.

Had I known that the secret to getting hired in this depressed economy is to have a marketable skill, I would have gone straight to vocational school. But no, I went to some middle-of-the-woods-bathless-lice farm liberal arts college.

For the price of what it cost to set foot on that campus you’d think they’d throw in some plumbing or electrician classes. Faulkner will have to do. At least I’ll have interesting things to say around the hobo fire as we eat beans with a shared spoon. The world needs more interesting hobos – I will design myself a kick ass bindle.

At some point, things fell apart and I reasoned that having a bunch of assholes not laugh at me would be the least of my problems. I tried my hand at stand up. I like it, it’s been a good match. Whenever I’m feeling cocky, it shows me I still suck. Whenever I’m feeling down, I make some jerk laugh.

This blog is about my favorite parts of comedy. It is also about tricking myself into being a disciplined writer. Though, in all honesty, I should be writing jokes and not About pages.

A jew, the easter bunny, and a frog walk into a bar…

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