How to Get to Places Other Than Carnegie Hall
How to get to Music Hall of Williamsburg: Practice, check into rehab for heroin addiction, practice some more.
How to get to Music Hall of Williamsburg: Practice, check into rehab for heroin addiction, practice some more.
Single-frame comic mocking PowerPoints in attempt to dissuade their use by students, displayed above desk at which you design your daily PowerPoint.
Wow, guns do kill so many Americans. But, like, have you ever partied with guns? It’s awesome.
Eating brie, Adam, his wife, friends close and warm—it’s couples night. "No I won’t take my shirt off right here! No!" Adam takes his shirt off.
How about a round of applause for the Starbucks barista who didn’t ask what else I like strong and hot on a summer afternoon.
A stolen bomb squad dog to sniff out the aliens. (They probably smell kind of like TNT.) Your grandmama Ellis’ necklace, so you can be buried with it.
Provide your real name. Slappy, Mr. Chuckles, Giggle Master, Miss Jiggles-a-Lot, and Happy Pappy are not legal names we recognize.
Do your thoroughbred Tibetan Mastiffs refuse to walk past your Nest Detect Sensor™ into the the conservatory where your stepfather passed away?
Creative new ideas like Swine Flu Pig Roast and Cholera Clambake, for the modern parent who distrusts the Big Pharma but loves to spread Good Karma.
Explain that "Interpretive Trail Hiking" won’t have a steady paycheck and encourage your boots to instead major in "Pre-Backpacking" at Bootiversity.
Don't ask loudly and rhetorically "See why I divorced her?" of the shoppers gaping at your unholy hissyfit over her congenital tardiness.
Your open mic is in the gap between worlds, accessible only to the chosen, the mad, and people you like. So, it’s kind of a booked open mic.