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I know, I know. It’s National Poetry Month, and here I am, slacking off, writing jokes and hashtags and shit. Mea culpa. Whatever. Shoot me. Continue reading

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Can Comedy Be Comfortable? One Question, Seven Humorists

Here’s something fun I had the privilege to be involved with: ending a sentence with a preposition. Just kidding. Thanks to Editor and Chief Semicolon Advocate Michelle W. for inviting me to pitch in.

Discover

Comedy is often deeply unsettling, making us squirm even while we laugh. Whether we’re watching someone tumble down a flight of stairs after slipping on a banana peel (it’s a classic for a reason!) or listening to a comic’s pointed commentary on racism, humor pushes boundaries.

Is discomfort an essential part of comedy, or just one way to be funny? We asked seven of our favorite humorists for their take on the question: can comedy ever be comfortable?


“A Little Discomfort Makes You More Comfortable”

ML PhilpottML Philpott is founding editor of literary journal Musing and the author of Penguins With People ProblemsShe pokes fun at life and media on I Miss You When I Blink, and tweets @WhenIBlink.

Think about what it feels like to be tickled — physically tickled by another person. That poke to your ribs sets you giggling, and after that laugh you might feel relaxed…

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No, He Didn’t…

Yes, he did.

Yesterday morning while checking my WordPress mobile app, I noticed the blog had reached 7,499 followers. (In my best Elvis Presley voice: Thank-you, thank-you-very-much!) I wanted to get a screen shot when it hit 7,500 but didn’t feel like hovering over my laptop refreshing the screen every minute or two until it happened. I mean, really. How incredibly vain would that be?

So I did something even more incredibly vain and became my 7,500th follower. And before you roll your eyes in disgust, here’s my rationalization reasoning: Now I can see what everyone is getting in their inboxes when I post something new, which might prove to be helpful. Or not. In any case, thanks again…

And congratulations, Robin Lucas!…

DHP at 7499




RobinLucasFollowedYourBlog




DHP at 7500

Wait, I Have A Blog?

Greetings, salutations, welcome new followers and… wait, I have a blog?

Okay, I admit it. Reports of my recent disappearance are fairly accurate, but I can explain. I’ve been held against my will in a dark literary cellar for the past few weeks, chained to an old desk and forced to write and rewrite original material. About every hour or so the “Muse” (that’s what she goes by, anyway) shows up with a bucket of blank pages, dumps them on my desk, and repeats over and over, “It puts the lotion on its skin.”—wait, wrong movie—”It puts the words on the paper,” to which I reply under my whiskey-soaked* breath, “Demanding bitch, aren’t you.” Of course, this is all just a line of shit to pepper over the honest fact that I’ve actually been lazy and giving in to what author Steven Pressfield identifies as Resistance.

But assuming I make it out of here alive—and if I don’t, I’ll leave a good-looking slush pile—I’ll have some exciting new stuff to post here. In the meantime, thanks for your patience. And big thanks to Foodblogger Mania for including Dry-Humping Parnassus on their list of recommended blogs for National Poetry Month, which reminds me—there are all sorts of poetry things happening on the Interwebz at the moment. My current favorite (owing to the fact that I’m a #HashtagWhore) is the #npm15 tag on Twitter which links to countless resources for reading and getting involved with poetry. You can also tweet your poems of 140 characters or less using that hashtag (or #NationalPoetryMonth), and if you’re really ambitious you can take part in #NaPoWriMo and post a new poem every day for the month of April. (Sorry, I’m not nearly that ambitious.) So blow up Twitter with your micro-poetry, and feel free to post your work in the comments, or mention me @robbylucas and I’ll retweet my favorites.

As for me, I’ll be tweeting my poems from a dusty cellar located somewhere in Thanks To Chloroform, I Don’t Have A Clue, while the nagging bitch—sorry, the “Muse”—paces up and down the stairs… “It puts the words on the paper…” and I’ll share them here as well.

So don’t bother sending for help. Send more whiskey* and light bulbs.

Cheers!

*This is also a line of shit, used purely for entertainment (mine). I prefer to write sober. The whiskey comes later.

What a Bunch of Followers! All 2,000 of You!

Which is surprising to me considering that I began publishing Dry-Humping Parnassus only six months ago… after securing it four years ago. (!?) But it finally started as a dumping ground for selected poems I’d written over the years, and—I hoped—a self-administered kick in the ass to man up and get back to writing. And it worked. Well, something worked.

About two weeks into it, a poem I wrote about calling in sick was Freshly Pressed by Poetry Editor and Chief Semicolon Advocate Michelle W. (Michelle also writes at King of States! which you should definitely follow if you don’t already.) Her selection made possible a wave of “likes” and “follows” and flattering comments which encouraged me to continue dumping out poems, often under the cover of night from an unmarked waste disposal truck.

The toxic word chemicals accumulated steadily, as did the “likes” and “follows,” and last September this nascent bubbling sludge pit was selected as a Staff Picks Recommended Blog—again by Michelle.

More “likes” and “follows.” More furtive midnight runs to my literary landfill publishing dashboard. Pretty soon I was running out of poems—the good ones at any rate—and it was time to start slouching toward my first love: humor. And that’s where you’ll currently find me: wading into miasmic pools of off-center fiction, sociopolitical satire, and a few more poems zipped up in body bags, waiting to be illegally dumped.

But shoveling aside my false modesty scatological self-deprecation: To all of you including Michelle who have read, liked, followed, recommended, and encouraged my noxious and obnoxious words… what the hell is wrong with you people!?

Also, thank you. Thank you very much.

With a scant six months in the game, I’m still pretty green at this blogging stuff. I’m not Jenny Lawson who is painfully funny and has over a million well-earned followers. (And I’m not seeking a sex change so I can be like Jenny Lawson.) What I do have is a few dozen well-earned rejection slips, and when I started this blog I was happy to get ten followers.

But regardless of how many readers I’m fortuned with, my commitment as a writer remains the same: You’re going to need a bigger pair of boots. And hazmat gear.

Cheers and Happy New Year!