First off today, somebody out there, a rotund gentleman with glasses and beard that probably has four or five different kinds of food in it, is waiting for me to "blog" about being "blogged about."
Here it is:
Ben Kenny was quite honored to have received a mention in Terry Jones' blog. Makes him all warm inside. No, wait... that's his circulatory system that makes him all warm inside.
Terry Jones has more periods than the National Organization for Women.
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Some people might call writing or referring to oneself in the third person "pretentious" or "a total 'dick' thing to do." Those people are right. Ben Kenny thanks them. Ben Kenny lives and strives for a future of celebrity(cocaine use of off titties outside the Improv, doesn't matter which one), and talking about yourself in the third person is a large part of upholding and promoting an "image." Ben Kenny lives part of the future he wants for himself everyday.
Has anyone else noticed that nobody under sixty can really whistle up a tune anymore? It's rather hard to get across in writing, but no one seems to be able to "bend" a whistle like old people can. Old people can "stutter" their whistles too! I blame religion for this. Bear with me. In the olden days, people did archaic things like read the Bible and go to church in much larger numbers. Their parentally instilled faith was a tenet of their culture, their town, and their world. It was the guiding force of their lives. So they didn't spend much time masturbating, for fear of going to Hell. But, they had to do something with the hours of the day, so they kicked cans along the railroad tracks, went fishing, and whistled. They whistled like a tea kettle at seven in the morning. Had I been born "back in the day," I would have had mad whistling skills, as I'm a terrible athlete, and I don't fish. I guess I just have to take solace in the fact that I'm pretty good at masturbating. I mean, I've never had any complaints...
Brief excerpt from a work conversation: "Really, if you can't nut to Helen Mirren, you must be gay!"
(I know the image is somewhat phallic and erotic in a subtle way. A boy can dream, can't he?)
I love how the people in this video have facial expressions and routines. I love the dude with his eyes closed.
My show last night at The Obey House went fantastic. Not a whole lot of comics showed up, as Crafton is not known as a hotbed of comedic talent. No talent scouts scour Crafton, looking for the next big thing. However, they give me free beer and french fries, and they LAUGH AND HAVE A GOOD TIME!!!
Mike and Frank are funny ass people. So is BRAD RYAN!
Brad, thanks for having me out! I like rooms that laugh at the repeated use of the word "midget," and that are polite enough to let me drink a whole beer during my set.
I was seriously on such a non chemical high after that show. This I can only assume, is what some Christians feel like after church, but I'm not that gullible, so I'll never know for sure.
I took the high into Eighties night. I missed my absolute favorite DJ, E-Z Lou's guest set, but other than that, it was pretty fun. Someone who I didn't expect to see showed up for a little while, the sound was surprisingly decent, and, as always, the music of the era was spectacular!
I was awake for about thirty hours straight yesterday. I could've gone to bed earlier, but I decided to go up to Mt. Washington and watch the sun come up over Pittsburgh. It was a great decision, but a little cold, as I was covered in sweat-laden clothing. I did pee off of the overlook though. Sweet.
Thinking of the dawn got me thinking of the P.M. Dawn. This is still awesome! Let's all request it for couples skate!
Due to my own lack of ability to put things in the mail and the busy travel weekend, my mother will not be here, and I will not be in Wisconsin. So, I must attempt to get overtime, and if that fails, I plan on seeing how long I can stay naked. It's one in the afternoon on Friday, I've already been naked for six hours, and I don't have to be anywhere until Tuesday morning. My marathons are way more interesting than running. Much less preparation though. I win. I fucking win.
I named my bowel movement this morning. I called it "Kid Rock." I figured it was appropriate.
This guy skates roughly as well as I masturbate. We also both seem to like old school AFI, but I can't masturbate to it.
Lots of masturbation references today. Which reminds me...
All buses talk. You must know when and how to listen.-BK
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