Monday Morning Coffee Club: 9/26/16

Monday, coffee, humor, The Nite Show, Donald Trump, Modern PhilosopherJust made the mortgage payment, Modern Philosophers, and now I’m squeezing in some time to finally write my Monday morning post.

I didn’t want you to think I’d forgotten about you, because you are always on my mind.

It’s just much busier than usual at The House on the Hill lately.  I put in an eleven and a half hour day today at the desk job, and now I need to write monologue jokes for Wednesday night’s Season Premiere taping of The Nite Show with Danny Cashman!

That’s right, Modern Philosophers, the new TV season has begun and The Nite Show is back in production.  I spent the weekend cranking out pages of monologue jokes for the first two shows, and now I need to tackle show number three.

Can you believe that there are a lot of Donald Trump jokes in my submissions?

Well, the man is everywhere and if you add him to any scenario, it just makes it much funnier.  I don’t want the man to become President, but he certainly makes writing monologue jokes a lot easier.

Thanks, you big buffoon!

The Nite Show, TV, writing, Monday, coffee, humor, Modern PhilosopherI’m very excited to see my old Nite Show friends, hang out with our awesome audience, and make a little TV magic.  It will definitely break the monotony of doing my desk job, and I certainly need the social interaction.  And the laughs.

Plus, nothing makes me feel more confident than writing.  The start of the new season could not have come at a better time!

Between working overtime and writing monologue jokes this weekend (and watching my teams lose every game they played!), I managed to get a nice chunk of work done on the new screenplay.

It’s at 99 pages now, and I’m perilously close to completing the first draft.  I’m very excited about how well the script is coming, and I’m looking forward to having a few trusted friends give it a read.  Will you be one of them?

I’ve definitely been in full Writer Boy mode lately.  Nice.

Before I paid the mortgage tonight, I went around the upstairs of The House on the Hill and put down all the storm windows.

Summer abandoned Maine quite quickly, Modern Philosophers, and it’s getting very chilly at night.  The return of my old nemesis Snow Miser cannot be too far off now.

Thank goodness the interns made all this coffee.  We need to stay warm and focus on autumn.  No need to jump ahead to the Ice Age.  We still have time.

Sorry to have to wrap this up so quickly, but my tummy demands food, and then Danny demands monologue jokes.

Hope you all had an awesome Monday.  Blog to you again real soon…

I’m too tired to chase you, so please follow me on Pinterest!

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Be Funny As Hell, Writer Boy!

short story, writing, The Devil, The Nite Show, monologue jokes, humor, Modern PhilosopherWhat I like most about writing out on the front porch of The House on the Hill is the absolutely peace and quiet.  There’s virtually no traffic on my street, my neighbors never make any sort of ruckus, and…

“Tell me a joke, Writer Boy!” The Devil demanded as he stormed out of the house to interrupt my afternoon of placid reflection and creativity.

He handed me an ice cold Snapple, and then stood over me so that his shadow fell across the screen of my laptop.

“I’m not going to tell you a joke,” I replied coldly, hoping that he’d take my icy response as the hint to leave me the Hell alone that it was meant to be.

“Isn’t your job to make the audience laugh?” Lucifer queried as he took a sip of his Snapple.  “I’m a typical audience member, so amuse me.”

I looked up at The Prince of Darkness, who stood there in an impeccably tailored suit that probably cost more than the average Mainer made in a month.  He was not a typical audience member no matter how much he insisted upon it.

“You know it doesn’t work like that,” I told him as I closed my laptop since it was obvious no more writing was going to get done as long as the ruler of the underworld was bored and demanded my attention.  “I write the jokes and send them to Danny to read.  Then he decides which ones make it onto the air.”

The Nite Show, monologue jokes, short story, The Devil, writing, humor, Modern Philosopher“Why can’t I hear one before you send it to Maine’s favorite late night talk show host?” Satan persisted.  “Wouldn’t it make sense to test your jokes to make sure they’re funny?”

“I know that makes perfect sense to you, but we have a process,” I explained even though I was out of patience and just wanted my silence back.  “It’s Danny’s show, so he reads them before anyone else.”

The Devil shrugged and took a little stroll across the front porch.  Having him pace behind me and further interrupt my writing process was really pissing me off.

But that wasn’t the sort of thing one told my constant Sunday guest.

“Well, I think that’s stupid, but I’m happy to see you writing again,” Lucifer admitted when he finally stopped pacing.  “You’ve been working too much at that other job and spending too much time brooding.  Writing always brings you out of your funk and reminds you that you are more than just a broken hearted desk jockey.”

Sundays With Satan Short Story Series, writing, short story, The Devil, The Nite Show, Modern Philosopher“I do have saddle sores from all the desk jockeying I’ve done lately,” I quipped with a chuckle.

“The ladies are impressed by hard working writers with an offbeat sense of humor,” The Prince of Darkness advised.  “Perhaps if you keep writing, you’ll catch someone’s eye, and get to ride something other than a desk.”

He winked and I could feel my cheeks grow flushed.

Oh Hell.  I didn’t have time for all this chit chat.

“Go back inside and let me finish writing these monologue jokes please,” I requested politely, but firmly.

Satan respects it when you stand your ground.  Just as long as you maintain the respect.

“I’ll leave you to your mysterious Writer Boy ways,” The Devil said with a wave.  “Just remember that you have me to thank for all the Trump jokes you’re writing.”

I guess he had a point even though he could be a totally disruptive pain in the…

Follow me on Pinterest, and then leave me alone for a little while so I can finish writing these monologue jokes…

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#NoTrumpsMatter Movement Grows As Election Approaches

Donald Trump, No Trumps Matter, politics, protest, civil unrest, humor, satire, Modern PhilosopherElection Day is less than two months away, Modern Philosophers, and as fate hurtles us precariously closer to the reality of Future President Trump, civil unrest threatens to make the future even more apocalyptic.

At the eye of the latest hurricane of protests is the quickly growing No Trumps Matter movement.

Founded by a group of concerned citizens tired of listening to Donald Trump and his offspring spouting the stupidest, most hateful things imaginable from their face holes, No Trumps Matter promises to make Americans realize that no member of the Trump family speaks for this country.

“You’re putting it politely,” No Trumps Matter co-founder Mary Jackson told this Modern Philosopher.  “The motto of No Trumps Matter is Make America @$$hole Free Again!  And the only way to do that is to remind the American people that Trump and his family only have power if we give it to them.  Stop listening to Trump, and don’t vote for the imbecile in November!”

No Trumps Matter protests have been springing up all over the country, and the group is quite a presence on social media. #NoTrumpsMatter is constantly trending on Twitter, and photos of people wearing Trump masks with duct tape plastered over the mouths can be found all over Instagram under that very same hashtag.

“It’s a movement, it’s a revolution, but it’s really just the people of a great country finally coming to their senses,” Jackson explained as she spray painted “SHHHHH!” in huge red letters over Trump campaign posters.

Donald Trump, politics, protests, No Trumps Matter, humor, satire, Modern Philosopher“The media has shoved Trump down our throats for so long, that we’ve forgotten we don’t have to swallow the bull$%^& , and can just throw it up and gargle the bad taste out of our mouths.”

While not the most pleasant imagery, she does make an excellent point.

We need to stop listening to Trump, his eerily alien looking children, and the people in the media who blast us with Trump sound bytes 24/7 until our ears bleed and our brains melt.

This is America, and while Trump and his freakish kin have the Right to Free Speech (and the money and power to make sure those words make it into our lives), we also have the right not to give a #@$% about anything that comes out of the mouth of a Trump.

The next time the Billionaire Buffoon or the next generation of buffoons says something stupid, just ignore it.  Better yet, spread the word on social media that you’re mad as hell and you’re not listening anymore.  Just remember to add #NoTrumpsMatter to whatever you post, so the word spreads like a virus.

Sure, Trump has the money to build walls around all the protesters of the No Trumps Matter movement, but where is he going to find the labor to build those walls?

Donald Trump, No Trumps Matter, politics, humor, protest, satire, Modern PhilosopherPlus, Trump’s money can’t stop a dedicated movement on social media.  He can threaten all he wants on Twitter, but that 140 character limit really works against him.

The next time you feel like your thoughts and opinions aren’t being heard because one or more Trumps are loudly talking over you, just flash the #NoTrumpsMatter tag.

Let the hashtag inspire and remind you that you have a voice, that you are being heard, and that millions of angry Americans can always make an idea out trend any nonsense Trump and his evil spawn are trying to pass off on social media as the American Dream.

No Trumps Matter, Modern Philosophers, if you don’t let them.  You have the power to silence the madness, and you don’t even need duct tape to do it…

Before you run off to keep #NoTrumpsMatter trending, take a minute to follow me on Pinterest…

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I’m Getting Forgetful In Your Old Age

birthdays, relationships, love, humor, memories, Modern PhilosopherI realized something interesting today, Modern Philosophers.  I forgot that today was The Girl Who Moved Away’s birthday.

You remember The Girl Who Moved Away, right?  She’s the whole reason this blog exists.  I loved her very much, but I encouraged her to chase her dream.  Even though I knew it would break my heart and bring the dark clouds.

Shortly after she moved away for school, she insisted that I start this blog to distract me from how much I missed her.  For the longest time this blog was about how much I loved her, missed her, and hoped she wouldn’t forget me.

She appeared in the blog as both The Girl Who Moved Away and as the Archangel Rachel, my guardian angel.  Over time, I wrote about her less and less.  Eventually, the Archangel vanished, the blog moved in another direction, and I fell in love with a Sweet Irish Girl.

Now, she is The Doctor Who Moved Away and married to someone other than me.

Despite all this, I never thought I’d forgot about this woman, who I once loved so much.

But as I was scrolling through Facebook on my break this morning, I saw a post from a mutual friend wishing her a Happy Birthday.

I couldn’t believe that I’d forgotten.  I have a steel trap of a memory, and it boggles my mind that the significance of today’s date completely slipped my mind.

I suppose it’s a good thing.  A sign that I’ve moved on.

But I’m still upset with myself.

I’ve been upset at The Girl Who Moved Away for leaving me in the dust.  We had promised that we’d always stay in touch, forever be friends, and never lose track of each other.  No matter where our lives took us.

humor, plhilosophy, relationships, love, Modern PhilosopherI mean, she has Opus and my beloved NYU Baseball sweatshirt.  When you entrust someone with such treasures, you expect her to always be in your life.

While I’m no longer in love with her, she will always have a special place in my heart.  I’m a bit sad today that her birthday was not at all on my radar.  I don’t want to forget her, even if she’s chosen to forget me.

Maybe when January rolls around, I’ll forget about another important birthday, but I doubt that will happen.  I’m still hopelessly in love with the woman who turns 30 that month, just two days after my special day.

Happy Birthday, Rachel. 

I’m sorry I forgot today was your birthday.  Thank you for making me start this blog, and I hope that you don’t mind that I’ve finally revealed your name after almost four years.

It was finally time, and there’s no need to hide your identity any longer, Birthday Girl.

I truly wish you the best and hope life is treating you well.  You are dearly missed at The House on the Hill, and I am a better man because you once chose to love me.

What do you think, Modern Philosophers?  Is it a good thing that I forgot her birthday?  Or should we always hold on to the important memories like the birthdays of those we once loved?

If you follow me on Pinterest, I’ll try to remember your birthday…

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Trump Yet To Deny That He Eats Babies

Donald Trump, politics, election news, cannibalism, humor, satire, Modern PhilosopherI don’t know if you’ve picked up on this yet, Modern Philosophers, but Donald Trump will say just about anything to anyone.

The man has no filter.  I can’t even tell at this point if the word sewage that leaks from his mouth is uttered for shock value, or if he truly believes everything that he says.

What I have noticed, however, is that despite the voluminous sound bytes he’s produced, there is one thing that Trump still hasn’t said.

This glaring omission makes me sure, beyond a reasonable doubt, that Donald Trump should never be President.

Quite frankly, it should bother the hell out of your, too, Modern Philosophers.

The interns and I have been poring over the transcripts of every Trump rally, speech, interview, and random insane declaration, and do you know what we discovered?

Trump never denies that he eats babies!

A candidate can be a racist, sexist, misogynist, xenophobic, hate monger and still be elected President.

But there is no way in hell that a person who dines on babies will ever take a meal in the White House as our Commander in Chief.

Donald Trump, politics, babies, satire, humor, election news, Modern PhilosopherThis is America, a country obsessed with eating and scandal, but even we have to draw a line somewhere.

You have to ask yourself, why hasn’t a man as outspoken as Trump, who’s never met a word he doesn’t like to hurl at an opponent like a lethal weapon, ever come out and just said he doesn’t eat babies?

It really makes you think, doesn’t it?  What is he trying to hide?  Why won’t he come clean on this topic?  Is he constantly harping on Hillary Clinton’s medical condition to distract us from what was served for lunch on his private jet?

I’m calling out Future President Trump right now.  You don’t have to show me your tax returns.  You don’t even have to explain what that thing is that sits atop your head.

Just hook yourself up to a lie detector and state for the record that you don’t eat babies.

If Trump won’t do this, then I think we all have our answer.  And if that’s the case, are you still going to vote for an orange skinned, verbally abusive, baby eater?

If this were a fairy tale, such a creature would be hunted by our heroes and killed in a gruesome manner so the kingdom could live happily ever after.

Donald Trump, politics, humor, satire, Modern PhilosopherWhy do you think we never see Trump kissing babies?  It’s the perfect photo op for any political candidate, and yet, Trump won’t go within ten feet of a baby in public.

Is he afraid we’ll hear his stomach rumble?  Does he know he won’t be able to resist taking a bite out of any toddler handed to him?  Might the man have the weirdest eating disorder to which the White House Chef would ever have to cater?

So many people have wondered why Trump would even want to be President.  Perhaps he craves instant access to all of the country’s birth records and census information.  What better way to know where the yummy babies are?  Maybe he wants to use the NSA’s surveillance capabilities to track the nation’s most delicious toddlers.

It all just turns my stomach.  I hope the citizens of this great nation are smart enough to know that sometimes it’s what a candidate doesn’t say that reveals the most about him.

Before you lock away your children for  safety, be sure to follow me on Pinterest…

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Monday Morning Coffee Club: 9/19/16

Monday, work, coffee, humor shopping spree, WalMart, Darth Vader, Modern PhilosopherThere was no need to check the calendar today, Modern Philosophers.  It was definitely a Monday.

I got to work at 5:45, ready to kick some ass.  About an hour and a half later, though, I made an annoying discovery…I’d somehow managed to tear my pants.

The rip was in a very sensitive spot, to put it politely, and there was no way I was going to last another ten hours with that sort of wardrobe malfunction.

Luckily, The House on the Hill it not far from the office, so I flew home, changed pants, said hi to the kitties, and sped back to my eternal post at my desk.

The trip only took half an hour, but it threw my whole day off track.  Plus, the voices in my head spent the rest of the day arguing about whether I should stop at Walmart on the way home to buy new pants.

Some of the voices were all for it, eager to spend a portion of the overtime money that that almost literally burned a whole in my pocket.  Other voices wanted to wait until the weekend when I was last tired.  Still others wanted me to just wear shorts to work every day and screw the dress code entirely.

The voices that wanted to go on a shopping spree were the loudest, so I made a pit stop at Wally World on the way home.  Monday night is a great time to hit Walmart, apparently, since the place was pretty much dead.

I got a couple of new pairs of work pants, some long sleeve work shirts because winter is coming, and one unexpected item.

As you can see from the opening photo in this post, I somehow ended up purchasing an awesome Star Wars tee shirt when I was only supposed to be buying work clothes.

Clearly, the Force is strong in this Walmart!

Monday, coffee, work, wardrobe malfunction, humor, shopping spree, Modern PhilosopherI got some pretty good deals, and totally bulked up my work wardrobe for the colder months.

Plus, I got to bring home Darth Vader and a little Imperial propaganda to boot!

So even though that torn pair of pants really could’ve put me in a mood and attracted the dark clouds for a major storm, I found the silver lining and turned it into fun.

Now it’s after eight o’ clock, and I’m just sitting down to relax and watch Fear the Walking Dead.  Nothing like a little Zombie time to help me mellow.

I sometimes feeling like I’m turning into an Overtime Zombie, but I’m happy to report that I’m still among the living, Modern Philosophers.

Sure, work is slowly killing me, but I’ve got the voices in my head to keep me sane in the meantime.  And I’ve got an awesome new Star Wars tee shirt.

Yeah, it was a Monday, but so what?

There’s still plenty of coffee.  Grab a cup and just let the rest of the day slip away until there’s nothing left but a Tuesday full of promise!

Follow me on Pinterest, or you might tear your pants!

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Suit Up, You Handsome Devil

humor, short story, The Devil, fashion, Modern Philosopher, Sundays With Satan Short Story Series“Come on.  Let me see you,” The Devil urged with a chuckle from the couch.

“No way,” I shouted back from the dining room far from his curious eyes.  “There’s no way I’m letting anyone see me like this.”

“You’re being a baby.  If you come in, I promise to change your diaper and give you your bottle,” Lucifer mocked.

“I’d much rather be wearing a diaper,” I countered from the other room.

“The sooner you get this over with, the quicker you can get on with your mundane, fashion nightmare of a life,” The Prince of Darkness offered as an enticement to lure me into my own living room.

Finally, I just caved and gave my annoying guest what he wanted.

“I look ridiculous,” I announced as I stood in the doorway.

The impeccably tailored suit was the most expensive outfit I’d ever put on a body so entirely unworthy of something that cost more than I made in a month…with overtime.

“That looks absolutely perfect,” Satan cooed and applauded like he was in the audience at a runway show.  “Francois is not only the best tailor in Hell, but he is also the finest tailor ever to once walk the Earth.”

suit up, How I Met Your Mother, fashion, short story, The Devil, humor, Modern Philosopher“I look like my next step should be to climb into my casket,” I complained.  “And how exactly did Francois get my measurements so perfect?”

“Let’s just say you’re a very heavy sleep,” The Devil mumbled in reply.

“Ha ha!” I countered with mock laughter.  “Wait…what?  You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Lucifer flashed his most Devilish grin.  “Suit up!” he declared.  “I feel like Barney from How I Met You Mother.  Didn’t you used to love that show?”

“Yeah, until the last season,” I grumbled as I loosened the tie that was trying to choke the life and the freedom out of me.  “I hated the way it ended.”

“You really have a problem with things ending in a manner who didn’t expect or appreciate, don’t you?” The Prince of Darkness shot back at me.

“Low blow,” I complained.  “Look, you just know I’m not a suit and tie kind of guy.”

“But you’re supposed to dress for success,” Satan reminded me as he pointed at his own impeccably tailored suit.  “Dress for the job you want.”

Suits, fashion, short story, The Devil, humor, Modern Philosopher“But I want to be a writer,” I whined.  “I don’t want to be a high powered lawyer like Mike and Harvey.”

“The problem is, you dress like an ancient Greek philosopher,” The Devil admonished.

“Togas are relaxing and no hassle,” I argued like the high powered lawyer I had just stated I didn’t want to be.”

“Maybe the fact that your entire wardrobe looks like it was stolen from Socrates’ crypt is the reason why your Sweet Irish Girl refuses to cross the ocean,” Lucifer quipped in another low blow that doubled me over and probably wrinkled the suit.

“Wow!” was the best I could come up with once I stood up straight again to face my fashion tormentor.

“It had to be said.  Have you forgotten who you’re dealing with?” The Prince of Darkness asked as he sipped an ice cold Snapple.

I wanted a Snapple of my own, but I was told there was absolutely no food or drink allowed while I was in my absurd costume.

“Have I worn this long enough?” I growled as I undid the top button of my shirt.

Sundays With Satan Short Story Series, humor, short story, The Devil, fashion, Modern Philosopher“That depends,” Satan answered.  “You need to move on with your life.  Try something different.  Shake things up a little.  Do you feel like a new man?”

“Does feeling like half a man in this monkey suit qualify as feeling like a new man?” the wise ass in me queried.  “Because if it does, then we are all set.”

“You are as stubborn as you are hopeless,” The Devil responded as he picked up the Sunday paper and turned his attention to it.  “Get your toga and crawl back into the same boring life you had before you put on that handsome suit that’s bound to turn the head of any woman.”

I stared at him angrily for the longest time, but my Sunday guest was oblivious to my death glare because something in the Bangor Daily News was more interesting than I.

I knew he meant well, but if clothes truly made the man, then suits made me incredibly uncomfortable in more ways than one.

Follow me on Pinterest and I promise to never force you to wear a suit…

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