There is no god and I am proof.

Friday 7 August 2009

Okay, tonight you will witness the first post for a long time without any gay sex in at all. In fact it will be hetero friendly and include some bits about runners running a race. Race? Why that sounds like excellent fun.

Commentator: And he goes round the first bend, still in pole position.

2nd Commntator: Is he so fast because he's black?

Commentator: Um, what?

2nd Com: It's a simple question.

Com: No. Other reasons.

2nd Com: Okay. That was a racism test and you scored pretty low. Well done.

Com: Phew. I did think it was one of those tests. They just get your friends to do them?

2nd Com: No, John. I'm actually a racism inspector who went deep undercover to investigate various people. Everyone I'm friends with will get a racism test or has already undergone one.

Com: What about your wife?

2nd Com: She's not my real wife.

Com: Oh, so we're not really friends.

2nd Com: How could I be friends with you? You're asian.

See? A little twist at the end there that makes for hilarious comedy that isn't afraid to cross boundaries and also make predictable jokes.

Tuesday 4 August 2009

War

Is it good for things? No, said a famous man once, but I don't know any famous people and I think that was a song anyway. Ooh la la, dismissing things just because they were in a song. Well people don't always agree with what is in a song anyway. They just put it in because it rhymes like, I found some apples in a crate, Cuban-style communism is pretty great.

Something like that could happen and then you get called the communist guy and they throw rocks at you in school, but enough about my school days. It's time for everyone loves, comedy about war.

Private: I hear tomorrow we are to die.

Captain: Not for certain, but...well most likely.

Private: We go against their bullets! How can we hope to live? I am a man, and man is flesh and bullets are of metal, unfeeling, uncaring metal.

Captain: We can...we can only hope.

Private: Of course sorry. I forgot myself. [puts on jester hat] Who knows what time it is?

All: We don't know!

Private: Mr Jam time!

He does some juggling and stuff. He is just finished when he is shot.

Captain: My love!

Other Private: You were gay?

Captain: Um, I'm on this blog. Of course I'm gay. The writer substitutes jokes for homo.

Other Private: Oh yeah AND I JUST REMEMBERED THAT I TOO AM GAY.

Captain: I wish I was on TV.

John: Hey I wish I wrote for TV.

Captain: Look it's John. Why do you make me gay?

John: Because it's HILARIOUS.

See there was some self-deprecation there, and that's because if you can't laugh at yourself because you're a terrible writer what can you do? Nothing. Nothing is what you can do because you're a fat useless failure.

Get a job.

Monday 3 August 2009

Calm Down There Horseboy

Alright, before we start the sketch I'm going to do the bit where I talk about things and you listen for no real reason. Well read. Not listen. LOVE ME

Arnold: Woah there, boy. What's the problem?

Horse: Neigh, neigh.

Arnold: The well?

Horse: Neigh.

Arnold: I'm not buying you another well. You barely use the one I got you last Christmas.

Horse: Neigh neigh neigh.

Arnold: You don't even buy me anything. I don't see what I owe you.

Horse: Neigh.

Arnold: You've only saved my life 4 times at most. And in return I haven't made you into glue when you lost that race.

Horse: [BEGINS TO CRY]

Arnold: Alright then. You can have that well.

See it was about horses and gifts. It has so much meaning and depth and I can tell you just love me for my body.

Peace out, homies.

Saturday 1 August 2009

YO

Throw it down. This is the mad shit.

It's called stream of consciousness. It's when you write and just throw things out there. Fish. Yeah. That was for you fans of random comedy. Which I think is you know alright. Here's something else for you fans of random comedy.

KILL YOURSELVES. With them gone this party can get started properly. Because they're probably 13 years old and fucking stupid. Oooh swearing. Aren't you grown up, John.

Man in street: [throwing eggs] Take that, society!

Other guy: What are you doing?

Man in street: I'm throwing eggs at society.

Other guy: Well aren't you a part of society?

Man in street: No I just throw eggs.

Other guy: May I join you? I've always loved throwing eggs.

Man in street: That's actually the real reason I do this. I don't mind society, I just like throwing eggs.

Montage of them throwing eggs in the park. Then in the cinema, at the zoo, finally in Paris.

Other guy: Oh, Steve. I think I'm...well in love with you.

Man in Street: Nick?

Other guy: Will you marry me, Steve?

Man in Street: I think too many of these sketches end in gay marriage, Steve.

Other guy: Well cohabitation then.

There see how FUCKING FUNNY that was. You're probably FUCKING LAUGHING from all the jokes.

Except there weren't any jokes. This is a serious piece, about society. See, we all like throwing eggs, and some of us enjoy sodomy, but society is evil and needs to be destroyed.

BYE

Monday 27 July 2009

Super Slash Fic

Captain Picard enters the room. He looks pissed, but in the angry sense, not the drunk sense.

Riker: Hey, man. What's up?

He holds out his hand as if for a hi-5. They do, but Riker holds on for a bit too long.

Picard: I'm just so angry. The aliens aren't co-operating.

Riker: I know a cure.

They kiss, and then Picard starts to do Riker in the bum. You can imagine this sequence yourself I reckon, so we'll just skip to the end of the encounter.

Picard: Man that was some good sex.

Riker: Yes.

I think I am pretty good at writing gay fan fic as you have just seen. I didn't really watch Star Trek that much so who knows what I could do if I was more familiar with the characters?

Anyway I reckon this blog is getting more updates, because writing is for cool guys, unlike unemployment which is for people who can't find a job.

Monday 23 February 2009

Happy Anniversary Blog

Let's...let's make it special. Sit down. 

I don't know about this should we? 

No, no, you're right as usual. 

No, it's okay, no, I'm fine. 

I love jazz! How did you...? 

But the broken glass...James. James am I hearing this right?

You bet your sweet ass!

[/Hilarious Sarcasm]


Skippy: But I can't...I'm so alone!

Georgie: You're not alone, Skippy. You've got me.

Skippy: I suppose but...

Enter Rapetron 6000

Skippy: (shrugs) 6 o clock already?

Studio Laughter.

And that is it for the bi monthly update.

Sorry Future John. Have to come up with you own ideas.

With your damn hoverboots.

Monday 16 February 2009

Stripes!

It's either the start of a porn franschise or the best comedy ever written. This summer...it's stripes!

Ted: Evan, wake up.

Evan: What? Did they...?

Ted: I think they're going to.

Evan: Well, next time wait 'til there's some penetration. I'm not paid to collect Zebra Foreplay.

Ted: Don't you think it's beautiful?

Evan: It's just a job, Ted. Money for zebra semen, it's a simple equation.

Ted: I know, I have some of that, but still it could be something more...more glorious if you let it.

Evan: Have you turned into a romantic while I was sleeping?

Ted: I had you going there for a minute though.

Evan: I guess so.

[A brief Pause]

Ted: I love their faces when we take it away from them.

Evan: "Give me back my semen!"

Ted: That is exactly it!

Evan: Thanks.

Friday 16 January 2009

Mixing it up with a song or two

Good Morning Tokyo!
No, no need to wait.
Why, the whole whole waits for you!

Yeah that'll do.

Sunday 11 January 2009

Long names are cool

Look at the name of this blog! That is long and cool.

Hehe. That is what she said. Except I am not a she. I believe there has been a misunderstanding. I write differently when I'm naked.

I only use one hand.

Understanding

I think I've worked out why the IT crows is so funny: it all builds up to one moment near the end which is absolutely hilarious and made of all the little funny jokes that you like from early on. I don't think I could do that now. I write sketches!

I say write but...

Let's write a funny article!

George opened his bookcase. "Oh golly," he said, "Look at all these books. I'll never finish them now!"  But at that moment in bounded Timmy who proceded to whip out the ginger beer. Yum, thought George, Ginger Beer! Then they had some jellies.

That was the worst article in the world.

Friday 9 January 2009

I'm not apologising

HAHAHA lies. I am apologising. I have not updated and the only person disappointed is going to be future me. Fuck him, he is not me. Today we're going to try and write some non-script related humour. Maybe, the same way people write for articles in humour magazines (who buys humours magazines?) but I'm not sure that could work for me.

Scripting is alright, I guess. I'm not sure of the quality of my scripts as I haven't had anyone actually critical read them. I like them, but to be honest they might not be the best. I'd really like to work with someone else and write with them, but not much oppurtunites because I am in school and there you get graded on your own work. Not the work you did with Timmy who just happens to be the best in the class and would you believe it he brought out your best side in fact you seem to have developed a very similiar writing style to Timmy.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh.

Shit, I need to write something.

Timmy: I'm so glad we can work on this project together.

Chris Yes. Yes it will be most...educational.

Timmy: You paused there.

Chris: Did I? Perhaps it was something you...imagined?

Timmy: You're still doing it.

Chris: Do you want to know what happened to the last person that...interfered with my affairs?

Timmy: You paused again.

Chris: I was forced to...terminate him.

Timmy: That means kill right?

Chris: I was forced to...terminate him.

Timmy: Terminate is a stupid euthamism for kill.

Chris: I was forced to...terminate him. The man who meddled.

Timmy: I mean, a good one would be something like "sort him out". That implies that you did something for the people in the know, and the people who don't know anything will assume you sent him to a training seminar or something.

Chris: I am implying I may have to...sort you out.

Timmy: On some sort of Training Seminar?