Ye Olde Standup Night (Begins Now!)

[Killing Spree]

All right, I guess I'll do my poem now!
Avian Quellina

*Steps up on stage and clears throat for attention.*
Y'know, a lot of schools and businesses have been closed around here lately due to the weather. Dangerously icey it is. And the other day it snowed, which is rare for Georgia. It got me thinking about Christmas time, brought back a lot of great memories, and well... Here's a little carol, from my childhood to you.

Rudolph the drug-addict reindeer,
Reindeer,
Liked to snuff things up his nose,
And if you ever caught him,
Caught him
You'd see white powder in nice straight rows.

All of the other reindeer,
Reindeer
Liked to laugh and buy his drugs,
They all grew up to be,
To be
Happy little reindeer thugs.

Then one rockin' new year's eve,
Santa came to say,
Rudolph with your good cocaine,
Get me stoned and kill my brain!

Then all the reindeer *loved* him,
Loved him
As they munched their ecstacy,
Rudolph the druggy reindeer,
Please don't try and sell that toooo meeeeeee!

*Hides before assorted fruit cups can be thrown at her.*

[SomeGuy]

Sir Laughalot claps for the funny Rudoph poem and holds up a sign saying "6.7"

[ 01-25-2003, 11:42 PM: Message edited by: SomeGuy ]

[Callum Kerr]

Hmmm... I agree... it IS rather confusing... how about an update on the scores DK? Well... here I go... adding to the confusion...

Now, here is a very funny story about a chap who turns up at a golf course.
By the way, I may cry a little while I'm telling this joke, so take no notice and enjoy yourself.
Perhaps I should explain that I have recently had to give up golf . . . for health reasons . . . my wife was going to kill me.
You see, for some time now, she's had this ridiculous idea that I spend so much time playing golf, that I'm losing touch with her and our two . . . or three children, you know. Little . . . uh, little what's-her-name and . . . the other one.
Actually, it all came to a head at about eleven thirty last night. She suddenly shouted at me, "Golf! Golf! Golf!" she said. "All you ever think about is bloody golf!" And I'll be honest. It frightened the life out of me, you know. I mean, you don't expect to meet somebody on the fourteenth green at that time of night.
Honestly the way she carried on, you would think that I was golf mad. For instance, there's her rather unfair attitude towards my life-size inflatable Arnold Palmer. No, to be honest, she doesn't stick a pin in it. She doesn't do that. She used to wait until I was asleep and push it out of bed.
Now, she's even knocked down my little pile of stones in the corner of the garden where I had my vision of Lee Trevino.
Another thing, when I play golf, I'm so much healthier. Of course, I still take a few little pills in the morning when I'm not at my best. Let me see, I take a couple of red ones to get me to the bathroom, and a green one to make it worthwhile when I get there, and a white one to offset the effects of the green one. A little blue one to give me the nerve to get across the main road without getting knocked over, and a couple of black ones so that if I do get knocked over, I'm going to enjoy it.
Anyway, that's by the by. Back to the story.
This chap joins a golf club, and on his first game, he tees up, and he takes out a piece of four by two out of his bag, and he whacks the ball straight down the fairway. His second shot he plays brilliantly onto the green with an old hockey stick. Then he sinks a twenty foot putt with a piece of rusty gas pipe . . . blindfolded . . . while whistling The Hallelujah Chorus (For which, incidentally, my father wrote all the words . . . well, not all of them. Some of them . . . the best ones.).
However, his opponent, on observing this knock down match, and had become full of alarm, and despondency, and a lot of other big words, and he can't believe his eyes.
"I can't believe my eyes," he says. (There, I told you he couldn't.)
And the other members are equally amazed. "Bless my soul!" they say, and "Fancy that!' and "Smash his face in!". I don't know why they said that, but they did.
Anyway, this chap gets 'round in this manner, easily winning the game by about five and six.
His opponent, who's recently paid a hundred pounds for a new set of matched golf clubs, said to him, 'Look, I'm going back to the clubhouse to cut my throat. Can I buy you a drink?' to which he replied "Thank you, kindly." And he sets off for the clubhouse.
Now, I bet you're all wondering what's going to happen next . . I am, because I've forgotten the ending.
No I haven't.
When they get to the clubhouse, he asks for a large whiskey. He juggles two pieces of ice, rebounds them off his head one at a time into the glass, followed by a squirt of soda from fourteen yards away without touching the sides.
Well, the captain of the golf club approaches him and says, "Excuse me, old chap," (He's a very nice man, you know.) He said, "We couldn't help noticing the unorthodox manner in which you conduct yourself. Everything you do, you do in the most roundabout way."
And the hero said, "Well, the answer is, you see, I'm so incredibly good at everything, that unless I make everything as difficult as possible, I get bored to death.
So the other chap says, "Do you mind if I ask a . . . very, very personal question?"
The chap says, "I know what you're going to ask, you naughty, naughty man . . . and the answer is, standing up in a hammock."

[Lord High Eater of Legs]

ooc:lmao, these r getting good

ic:Khal scribbled on his card again, and held up:
Avian: 9.97 Callum:8.2
laughing, the young elf fell off of his chair, onto the dead body of his imposter.
'Ick, can somebody remove this please?'

[SomeGuy]

Sir Laughalot picked up the dead body and prompmtly through it over and onto the stage. Sir Laughalot held up a 4.0 for Callum's joke.

[ 01-26-2003, 02:01 PM: Message edited by: SomeGuy ]

[Callum Kerr]

ooc: Seriously, could we have an update on scores? And could the judges fill in any scores that they have missed so far? Thanx... oh... and the contestants need to dop their thing too i suppose... only one other poem so far...

[/)eathKiller]

Avian 8.2 Callum 8.9

[SomeGuy]

OOC: Consider this a

BUMP

IC: Sir Laughalot moved around in his chair. "C'mon!! Someone do something funny!!! " Sir Laughalot through a pineapple down on the stage.

[Skydracgrrl]

Skye walks onto the stage and clears her throat. "Ahem. Now for a couple jokes." she beamed a smile at everyone, while a few groaned.

"A man went to his doctor and said "Doc, I can't decide, first I think I'm a teepee, the next I think I'm a wigwam. Teepee, no, wigwam... argh! What's wrong with me Doc?" The doctor looked over his glasses and said to the man calmly "You're two tense."

A brunette, a raven, and a blonde were pregnant and sitting in the doctor's waiting room, waiting to get evaluated. "I was on top, so it's going to be a girl," the brunette boasted. "Well I was on bottom, so it'll be a boy," the raven said. The blonde started to wail. "What's wrong?" the other two asked her. "I- I'm going to- to have p-puppies!" she sobbed tearfully."

Skye gave a flourishing bow and bounced back to her seat amid groans and catcalls.

ooc- I'm allowed to make blonde jokes, being one myself

[Lord High Eater of Legs]

ic:Khalraan laughed, and whistled.
'Go missus Skye!'
Skye:9.97