Promenade.
Nada.
Promenada.
At 3am today, I performed for a comedy club full of kids who had just come from their high school proms. Exciting!
Dance.
Antsy.
Dantsy.
You see, comedy clubs provide an important service: preventing underage drinking and providing a late-night venue for these kids that is not a hotel room.
Marriott.
Riotous.
Marriottous.
Because teenagers having sex is usually just a last resort activity, after all possible comedy options have been exhausted, when they just end up settling for some wacky bedroom antics which follow the less hilarious opening act of the hotel staff.*
Bellhop.
Hopeless.
Bellhopeless.
So I did my duty today in the fight against teen pregnancy.
Unless you count my impregnating them with a laughter fetus that incubated immediately and repeatedly.
Talk about hysterical pregnancies. (Boom.)
Guffaw.
Awesome.
Guffawesome.
* Hotel "staff" not at all intended to be a play on words that could imply the hotel staff are being inappropriate with the children.
Unless there are hotels running secret child sex rings (then pun coincidentally intended).
Brothel.
Hilton.
Brothilton.
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Loved the whole stream here. On my Prom-night I Prometurely Ejaculated in my pants and never made it to the hotel room. Too much sharing? Hope to get down to see you in NYC before too long. Beantown misses you~
ReplyDeleteMaybe too much sharing with me, DEFINITELY too much sharing with your pants.
ReplyDeletePantaloon.
Lunatic.
Pantaloonatic.
Hope to see you soon as well!