I just got to watching Bill Hicks stand up and it might be the worst decision I’ve ever made in my life.

I’m funny. It sickens me, but its true. I make people laugh. I’m good at it. Sure, I spit a few dad jokes onto the floor every once in a while but most of the time I’ve got this style. Sometimes my style is so good people don’t realize it’s a joke. What most people don’t realize is that everything I’ve ever said to them is a joke. My life is a joke. It gets really meta. Sometimes I don’t remember which of my friends are joke friends and which are people I actually like. Then I wonder if I actually like anyone, or if I make friends out of necessity.

“You like movies? Ah, fuck it.”

But on a certain level I feel as if I really don’t get along with anyone. Like I have to limit myself or filter myself just to have fun with anyone. I think maybe one time I didn’t filter myself. I couldn’t even remember it. I take so much time being a conformist piece of scum shit that I don’t even know what I really look like, how I might really be under all this bone and this fleshy un-sculpted, unhealthy, high fat-percentage meat.

Most of my comedy is absurd. I make absurd jokes. I say something really fucking stupid, that’s the joke. I say it in a really fucking stupid way. That’s the joke. Usually what happens is it catches people off-guard. It’s like shock comedy. “What the fuck did that dumbass just say?”

I think it works so well because people are narcissists. The problem with a narcissist is that they don’t realize other people are also narcissists, so they get caught up thinking they are the only narcissist around.

“Well shit! Lookit me! The only narcissist!”

Nobody would ever admit to being a narcissist though, even though we all are. We -all- are. We all think we’re better than other people. In fact, humans always naturally assume that they are smarter or stronger or just plain better than most others they encounter on a daily basis. This is why my comedy works so well.

They already think I’m a fucking idiot. Comedy is about expectation-reward. Here’s the expectation. If you fulfill a wild dream, that get’s people off. They get real hard to that.

Like, you walk up to a woman, right? What’s the worst possible scenario? You got to go worst, because it’s easier to relate with worst. If it goes best, like the girl gets down and just starts blowing him, that can be funny but only if you set it up right. What’s the wort possible thing that can happen? You have three routes here, they are all about knowing expectations.

When you defy expectations its comedy. When you fulfill expectations its drama. For me, comedy is all about surprise.

You can’t just say something weird either. You have to time it weird. You have to a have a weird tone. Your delivery has to be original, or else its not funny, because that’s expected. Most people see the joke coming. If they don’t, its funnier, but most of the time they will.

It’s all about the unexpected. That’s why you have to know your expectations. Wort or best. Go left field. It’s like a scale. Good-left, bad-left, good-right, bad-right.

People can sense joke timing, too. If you step off a little bit, that can surprise them. If you have a well timed delivery, they’ll go, “Great joke!” but they won’t laugh. They’ll just feel good inside. Timing is all about knowing when to say and how to say. That’s it. The rest is set up. What you actually said could be the most boring thing possible. You could have said, “I like corn,” and somebody whose not funny will say, “How do you make ‘I like corn’ funny!?”

I really fucking hate that guy. “How is this possible?” Just do it. Find out. Feel it out. Can’t you feel things? Don’t you use your fingers to touch things? Can’t you taste, smell? Can’t you fucking think? I don’t understand people. I can’t get along with anyone.

It was never about me, though. It was about Bill Hicks. Dude was funny. I got really fucking upset when I learned he died from cancer. I mean, like, when I read that. It’s just sad. It seems like people who really have an effect on the world die young. Look at Kurt Cobain, Jimmi Hendrix. These people died young because God looked at what they had done already and was like, “Alright, good job, bye.” Bob Dylan almost died young too. Stephen King too. Maybe God said, “Ah fuck it, the rest of your careers will just suck.” I don’t want to be that guy who dies young. One of my biggest fears is doing too well. Being too progressive or different, then having God go, “alright, you’ve had enough,” when I’m like 30. No God, I haven’t had enough. I want a family. I want kids. I want to see those kids grow up.

God might just want to save the fucking kids for once. If I ever have kids take them away from me. Lord. The world will hate those kids. The world isn’t kind to kids who know things, and I couldn’t help myself from letting them. The bottom line is, I’m like a stray dog out here. It’s my social anxiety, that’s the number 1 thing that fucks me. I don’t need a life partner or a lover, I’ve got social anxiety.

Maybe Bill Hicks was just too mean. He said a lot of nasty things. But then I put myself in his shoes. Would I say that? I wouldn’t mean it. It’d be for laughs. Bill Hicks probably didn’t mean it either. Or he did, at a certain level. But not entirely. I get mad sometimes, too, though. I honestly limit my exposure to certain things just because I know I’ll get mad. I’ll get really cynical and ostentatious about it. I turn into the biggest, reddest, plumpest cock.

You have to remind yourself that everyone is a narcissist. Bill Hicks was a narcissist too. The point is, know you are. It’s okay. You are the only thing in your world that’s tangible, literally. The only thing. It’s okay to prefer yourself to theories. Everyone you ever met is a theory. They are a theory your brain has come up with based on evidence that creates the image of a person and how they are in your mind. Everyone, nay, everything is a theory created by your brain.

That’s all I really have to say.