Saturday night, I was walking from the Playground to IO when a young improv student stopped me at Addison and Southport with a question. He told me that his girlfriend has been angry with him lately because she's been jealous of the fact that he's been doing a lot of relationship scenes lately, and invariably he ends up kissing the women playing his wife. What should he do?
Now, I don't want to give away too much about the ideology of the teachings that are going to be indoctrinated at the Funny Men Festival, but I had a quick answer for the young man. STOP KISSING THE WOMEN IN YOUR SCENES. Most of the time, women feel that they're being taken advantage of when men kiss them on stage. We need to be aware of womens feelings when we do things in front of an audience. Anyway, men kissing men is much funnier. And if she questions that, then accuse her of being homophobic. You have now turned the tables my friend.
Now, I didn't see my young friends show later that evening, but I'm pretty sure I helped someone be a little bit funnier and saved a relationship at the same time. That's what the Funny Men Festival is all about. Our lives right now are dedicated to preparing for the Festival that will put all other Festivals to shame. Unfortunately, Festival leader Susan Messing was late for the IO 20th anniversary party at the Ambassador East on Saturday because she was diligently scouring through Police Academy movies to find the perfect scenes to more thoroughly educate the attendee of the FMF2001. She's decided on a hilarious scene with Bubba Smith and the sound effects guy from Police Academy Six: City Under Siege. I still don't know how that guy can sound exactly like a car alarm.
Thanks,
Jeff Griggs
Here's a poem about men that will help sum everything up. The link is right under the poem.
Men's Movement to Earth
When a giant is slain,
he takes
a long
time
to fall
to the earth.
It folds
or unfolds
in stages
during the descent.
Nobody knows, or remembers,
or cares to remember
Who it was that struck the mortal blow,
or when,
or how.
Perhaps he was slain years ago
and I have been dancing
with a corpse.
Did I think I was dancing in creative enragement
at the Feast
of the Alchemical Marriage
when I was making love to Skeleton Woman?
"Oh, no!" "Say it isn't true!" "He lives!" "We'll kill you for saying he's dead!"
In the fertile dung
nobody sees
the roots
spreading
like wild strawberry runners
playing on a hillside meadow.
New fruit springs forth.
© 1997 by Bert H. Hoff Jan. 12, 1997
:wishy: http://www.lonelylion.com/funnymen/
Now, I don't want to give away too much about the ideology of the teachings that are going to be indoctrinated at the Funny Men Festival, but I had a quick answer for the young man. STOP KISSING THE WOMEN IN YOUR SCENES. Most of the time, women feel that they're being taken advantage of when men kiss them on stage. We need to be aware of womens feelings when we do things in front of an audience. Anyway, men kissing men is much funnier. And if she questions that, then accuse her of being homophobic. You have now turned the tables my friend.
Now, I didn't see my young friends show later that evening, but I'm pretty sure I helped someone be a little bit funnier and saved a relationship at the same time. That's what the Funny Men Festival is all about. Our lives right now are dedicated to preparing for the Festival that will put all other Festivals to shame. Unfortunately, Festival leader Susan Messing was late for the IO 20th anniversary party at the Ambassador East on Saturday because she was diligently scouring through Police Academy movies to find the perfect scenes to more thoroughly educate the attendee of the FMF2001. She's decided on a hilarious scene with Bubba Smith and the sound effects guy from Police Academy Six: City Under Siege. I still don't know how that guy can sound exactly like a car alarm.
Thanks,
Jeff Griggs
Here's a poem about men that will help sum everything up. The link is right under the poem.
Men's Movement to Earth
When a giant is slain,
he takes
a long
time
to fall
to the earth.
It folds
or unfolds
in stages
during the descent.
Nobody knows, or remembers,
or cares to remember
Who it was that struck the mortal blow,
or when,
or how.
Perhaps he was slain years ago
and I have been dancing
with a corpse.
Did I think I was dancing in creative enragement
at the Feast
of the Alchemical Marriage
when I was making love to Skeleton Woman?
"Oh, no!" "Say it isn't true!" "He lives!" "We'll kill you for saying he's dead!"
In the fertile dung
nobody sees
the roots
spreading
like wild strawberry runners
playing on a hillside meadow.
New fruit springs forth.
© 1997 by Bert H. Hoff Jan. 12, 1997
:wishy: http://www.lonelylion.com/funnymen/
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