T.S. 1989

Let me tell you a theory that I have. I believe that one cold night in March of 1989, Mr. and Mrs. Swift lay down together in bed and declared, "Tonight, we will conceive a national treasure," at which point a hair on the back of Nicholas Cage's neck stood straight up. (As we all know, whenever you say "national treasure" nowadays, Nicholas Cage appears and tries to buy your house and turn it into an island. But back then, it wasn't even a gleam in his Moonstruck eyes.) And then the two of them made passionate, burning love. Nine months later Taylor Swift was born, and the world was irrevocably changed for the better. I don't think that anyone fully understood what was to follow in the consequent years, even when a twelve year old Taylor sang at the Philadelphia 76ers game. Today, Taylor Swift is one of the biggest artists in the world, and no one has been at a 76ers game since. 

As you may already know and probably have guessed, I attended the Saturday performance of The 1989 World Tour. It was a surreal and amazing experience, to say the least. On the way over to the stadium, I got really excited because I realized that the crowd would consist mainly of girls and young women. Ergo, the lines for the bathrooms would never be long.  And I was absolutely correct. The sound was very good at Lincoln Financial Field and completely drowned out the neighboring Barry Manilow concert at the Wells Fargo Center. (Side note: If you ever wanted to gather up all of the white people in Philly and place them in one area, then Saturday you must have been in heaven.) Anyway, the seat that I had was OK, I just wish that I had brought my binoculars. But I could see her good enough when she came out after both opening acts and welcomed us all to New York. Philadelphia is kind of her hometown, since she's originally from just outside of Reading, so she kept reminding us of that, and we kept going nuts.

Although she is beautiful, sexy, and mesmerizing inside and out, I could not stop staring at the bracelet that we all received upon entry to the concert. At first, it did nothing. Then someone somewhere pressed a button, and they all lit up, each one shining and glowing. Different sections of the stadium were different colors, creating something really nice to look at. The bracelet danced along with the music and people. I kept it, and now every time it moves, it lights up for a little bit. It made for a very psychedelic ride home from the concert. I think that when it dies, I'm just going to change the batteries. 

She sang mostly songs from the album 1989, but didn't hesitate to throw Love Story in there, the one about the original lonely star-crossed lovers, not Blank Space, which is clearly about two Starbucks lovers. This is something different. There were surprises, like Rachel Platten, and guests, like Mariska Hargitay. Overall, it was very expensive, but very worth it. I enjoyed seeing her in person and not with all of those awards in her hands on TV. She's the correct amount of humble, and it clearly shows through her messages and beliefs. I'm very glad that I went. On the way out of the stadium complex, I saw a billboard that said that Shania Twain would be at the Wells Fargo Center in July. I said "So she's coming here? That don't impress me much."

Maybe You Did, Maybe You Didn't

If you're like me, then you spent the entire weekend watching improv duos be funny. But you're probably not like me, and so you didn't do that. Instead, maybe you watched the ponies race on Saturday and saw American Pharaoh win the triple crown. But, then again, maybe you didn't do that either. Did you caddy at 7:00 a.m. on Sunday morning? Of course not. You have dignity. Maybe you watched the Tony Awards and marveled at the talents of very artistic people. Or maybe you just watched reruns of the TV show Friends, by turning to literally any channel at any time of the day. The point is that I don't know what you did. All I know is that I ate Chipotle twice this weekend and I am still feeling that high. What do they do to their chicken? It's chicken wizardry I tell you! By the way, chicken wizardry is the name of my improv duo that I started, where I'm on stage with a live chicken and we improvise deleted scenes from the Harry Potter movies. It's real experimental stuff. You probably wouldn't get it. But then again, maybe you would. 

Another One Drives the Bus

Something scary happened to me today. I was on the bus coming back from Philadelphia because I'm so worldly, and I was reading my book. That's not the scary part. Anyway, I wasn't paying attention (because I don't make eye contact on bus rides), when people started to yell up to the bus driver. I started paying attention and realized that we were pulling into the entrance of GlaxoSmithKline. I thought, "Wow, this is really good service," until it became apparent that we were just making a U-turn. "This guy's an idiot," I thought to myself. The bus patrons (can I call them that?) then proceeded to direct this guy from GSK to our final destination. He had absolutely no clue how to navigate the route that we were on. I said "What is this, Uber?" It must have been his first day on the job. Or maybe they switched his route with someone else. I don't know; I don't run SEPTA. That was crazy. My life's pretty crazy. How's yours?

Unforseen Circumsatances

Everything changes at some point. I hate change, unless it's the money kind. I love that change. What I'm talking about is all of those little stupid things that we do every day that we think are set in stone. "I have to go to work." "I have to make dinner." "I have to take the trash out for a walk and throw out the dog." You need to be prepared for change. Now, I'm not saying you should go all "Doomsday Prepper" on your family and friends, saying things like "We need water and supplies for when things change," and "That knife's not big enough for the two us when things change." That's weird. I mean the little things. I believe it was the Brady Bunch who's said it best when they said that "something suddenly came up." Yes, I'm talking about the things that suddenly come up, a term I'll be referring to as a "life boner" from here on out. The unexpected bloopers of life. You know, those unforseen circumsatances. 

There are two types of people in this world. People who are wondering why I've spelled the two aforementioned words wrong (but spelled 'aforementioned' correctly), and people who are drunk from playing the People Say I'm Funny Typo Drinking Game (see below) while reading this blog. If you're of the former group, I'll tell you why I'm spelling those two words wrong. If you're of the latter group, go see a doctor, you may have alcohol poisoning. 

The words come with a story, a real life boner of a story. As we all know, I've been looking for a job. To apply for jobs, you need a résumé and a cover letter. I have both (barely) and was told to make them in Adobe Indesign by my friend because you can format things easier. That's fine, but Indesign doesn't have spell checker. Autocorrect wants nothing more than to change what I've just written. Microsoft Word wants to do it too. Indesign was like "Go f@$# you'reself!" See, my résumé is fine but my cover letter, sent out to tens of different companies, contained the words unforseen circumsatances instead of unforeseen circumstances. No wonder jobs don't want me! 

What a life boner, huh? That was there the whole time, and I didn't notice. What am I, an idiot? I think people would laugh when they read my cover letter, you know, for longer than normal because of the typos. Imagine the possiblities (also written in my cover letter, as opposed to possibilities) if it was spelled correctly. What do you do when you see something like this? It's a little, tiny, small problem that needs fixing. You have to fix it. I've since fixed it, and it doesn't seem to have any effect. See what I mean? Typo or no typo, that is the question. But I guess I'll just persevere. Because as the old saying goes, when life hands you boners, you make bonerade. (Bonerade is the name of the all female improv group that I'm coaching.)

That's the saying, right? I think it is. I hope you had a happy Memorial Day. It's the unofficial start of summer. Ah, the summertime, when I just want to sit in a park and levitate a rock. That's what the summer makes me think of. I hope you got to relax a little. Sometimes, that's all you can do. Have a great week!

People Say I'm Funny Typo Drinking Game Rules

1. Take a shot every time there is a typo.

2. If two typos appear one right after the other, take two shots  and shotgun a beer.

3. If more than five typos appear in a single post, let me know so I can fix them.

Drink Responsibly. 

TV Watch: 2015

I am no where near caught up on all of the television shows that I watch. It's a huge problem. I would need to lock myself in room for like 3 days and just watch everything that needs to be watched. I haven't been keeping up with everything, you know, because I'm busy. But that's no excuse. I should have watched the Big Bang Theory weeks ago, not just now. And I should have watched How to Get Away with Murder instead of letting it get away from me (I'm still 2 episodes behind.) I saw all of Daredevil, even though Daredevil saw none of it. (He's blind, but in an ironic, hipster sort of way. Like he can still see, but everything is on fire. To be fair, though, most things are on fire in that show. Hmm. Now I'm confused.) 

You're probably saying "Charlie, you watch a lot of stuff, you must be getting good use out of your Netflix account." Ha, joke's on you. I don't have a Netflix account. I stream everything like a hooligan. But not fast enough, as we can see, because I'm still more TV constipated than a commercial for Ex-Lax. (TV constipated is the name of my new improv team.) Don't worry, fine reader. I will watch everything that needs to be watched. For I have the time, I will make the effort, and I am willing to be the TV watcher and enthusiast you've come to know and tolerate over the years.

I still remember being able to multitask and watch TV while doing my homework in high school. Then, I tried it in college, and I ended up changing majors. Oh TV, where would I be without you, you mind numbing entertainment? You keep me grounded. Thanks. Now, I'm gonna stop writing. I have some catching up to do.

Fomophobia

Do you ever wish that you could be in two places at one time, like Hermione in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Askaban? I too wish there were two of me. (Don't say "There are two of you, you're a twin." Even though I am a twin, there are not two of me, you idiot!) I'm pretty good about missing things, just because I only go to what I care about. But recently, I've been afraid that I am going to develop the fear of missing out. I have a fear of having the fear of missing out. I'm calling it fomophobia. I believe that the country is taking great steps to downgrade fomophobia. People can marry whoever they want to, and I'm not afraid to miss it. There was a time when I would have said that I have to be there early, with a gift, but now I can check the not attending box and remain perfectly content with no fear of the consequences. I can only experience what is happening around me, so I literally don't know what I am missing. It's great to let the world happen around you and to stay in the moment that you are experiencing currently. That is how life is supposed to work.

But seriously! Who am I kidding? So much is going on all of the time. People are having fun without me. Take me with you. I want to go. Where's the party tonight? Where is it? I'll be there, early, with a gift. Just please tell me where something is happening. Okay? Can you do that? I just need a little taste of something fun. Let me in to your club. Include me, for Christ's sake. Do it for Christ! What would Jesus do? He would let me tag along to wherever the fun is. Let's go!!

Mayweather the 4th Be With You

Happy Star Wars Day. May the 4th be with you! See what I did there? I took today's date, May the 4th, and substituted it in place of "may the force," from a classic Star Wars line. I'm so clever!

Did you watch the fight over the weekend?  I'm not into boxing that much. Listen, I like watching a Fillipino hug a black guy as much as the next person, but boxing really doesn't do anything for me. That fight did not live up to the hype that was established for it. And what's with each boxer earning like $83,000 dollars a second? I would let someone punch me in the head of it meant I would receive $83,000 dollars a second. Where do I sign up?

And did you watch the Kentucky Derby? It's the fastest two minutes in sports. I thought the fastest two minutes in sports was when Tiger Woods cheated on Elin. I was wrong. Nevertheless, it was a well fought race with an exciting finish. Like when Tiger Woods cheated on Elin. Much more interesting than that tea party between Mayweather and Pacquiao. Sheesh!!!

Have a good week!  

It's Always Funny in Philadelphia

It's all happening so fast, people. You've spoken up and the reviews are in: I'm funny! But now other people (ones who don't read this blog, but probably should start) think that too. Like I'm trying to join an independent improv team. Why? Not because I'm good at improv, but because I'm funny. And I practically fell into a position on a sketch team. Why? Not because I've taken sketch classes, but because I went out and had sketches put up in front of people, and they were funny. You see, going out and doing things is always better than sitting around and saying things. Actually getting things done beats talking about getting things done, any day of the week (especially Mondays!). 

I'm going to be updating this website really soon. Did you forget it was a website? Me too. Anyway, I'll be adding dates and times when you can come see me do things (do, not say). Also, I want to get all of my videos up here and on my YouTube channel: peoplesayimfunnyvids. So there is some work to be done. That should be enough to keep me busy until next week. If not, I'm caddying again, so you know I've hit rock bottom. Hit it with a f***ing five-iron. And chunked it right into the rough. Send help please! But you know what? At least I'm funny.

There's a Spring in My Step

It's that time of year. The time when I say I'm going to clean up my room, but actually just make something I call "neat messes." This oxymoron means that I take the things that are strewn about, and I pile like items together, effectively making neater looking piles of junk. Too many papers on the floor? Now look at this neat pile of them, still on the floor. Are my socks not put away? Of course they aren't, but they are piled in front of my dresser as if they are waiting for me too open the drawer so that they can jump right in. That sort of thing. It fools my parents into thinking that I've cleaned up my room, but more importantly, it fools me into thinking that I have cleaned up my room. It's a win-win.

The next logical step would be to clean out the crap that is under my bed. But nobody's been under there since I dropped the remote and now have to physically walk over to the TV and turn it on like it's 1960. It's also very dusty. I can't go down there right now. So that just leaves my closet. But cleaning out my closet is an almost impossible endeavor (Eminem makes it sound so easy), akin to finding a job. I can't do it all by myself. I don't want to be, all by myself, anymore (weekly Celine Dion reference: check!). 

Then it's settled. I'm going to start a cleaning service. It's called People Say I'm Tidy. You can call 1-800-SAY-TIDY for more information. Have a good week!

This Is All There Is

Well, you can all start thanking me for bringing the good weather from California back to the east coast as a souvenir (I accept monetary donations). It was not easy, but as we all know, I am God-like. (Note the use of the word "like." See, I can still be humble.)

Remember how I complained about being busy? My schedule is now as clear as the sky in California. But do you know who's schedule is not clear from now on? That's right! Hilary Clinton! #Billary2016 

Here is what I hope will happen. I want her to be elected. Hooray! First white, female president, yada yada yada, all that jazz. Then, I want her to be giving a speech at a podium, and I want some soon be author to emerge from underneath, analogous to the previous incident with her husband. Then, he will write the book about the affair, simply titled "Fifty Shades of Gray." That's gray, not grey. Completely different books. From there, the story basically tells itself.

I should go into politics. You don't need school for that, do you? You just need a rich family, right? I'll see what I can do. No promises. No guarantees. For now, I'm exhausted, traveling sucks, people are morons, the world is a scary place. That's what the last six months taught me. That being said, I loved every minute of it.