Are Davids Funnier?

I was looking at my iTunes this morning, and I had a small epiphany as I scrolled through the D's.
There are a lot of funny people named David.
David Cross.
David Sedaris.
David Chappelle.
Larry David. (okay...not his first name, but still!)

Those are a lot of Davids, and I am sure this list is by no way complete. King David was known for being very wise, was he also a gold mine of one-liners?

Odds are, he was probably a side splitter.

He did outWIT Goliath...whoa!

Is it mean to be mean?

Even when it feels so good?

I have always believed (here again I will blame my catholic upbringing) that hate is something that consumes a person.

But now i believe that sometimes, kicking someone's ass is the only solution to one's problems. i would like to believe that violence is not the answer, but until some cocksmokers recognize, there is still room for violence anywhere.


Don't get me wrong, i don't condone murder--unless by a spouse, who happens to be a woman--but i think a little fist a cuffs is often called for.

In conclusion, i approve of the following types of fighting/aggression:

1. Drunken Boxing (I do not approve of rambling, drunken partner abuse in anyway)
2. Sober Boxing, with pillows on a bed or in an open field. (Weapons strickly prohibited)
3. Shots to the face, but only if the offending party has insulted your mother or done something equally offensive.
4. Face slaps (female to female only)
5. Dick slaps, or any other accousting method involving genitals or breasts. Suffocation with tits only permissable with consent.
6. Children fights without weapons, as they are not yet physically developed enough to do real harm, a healthy way to expend energy and get out initial frustrations towards opposite sex.

This is not a complete list, but it is a start.

If you are interested in some Amateur Comic Stylings...

You should tune in to my radio shows on WOBC 91.5, Oberlin, OH. You can listen to the webcast at wobc.org

My shows:

Sundays, 4-5pm: The Good Word with Dollar Bill and DoctorJ.
This is a literary talk show.

Tuesdays, 2-3am: Ask a White Girl with Dollar Bill AKA DJ WhiteT and Hershey Bar.
This is a talk show hosted by a white girl gone wild.

Tune in Next Week for some good shiiiiit!

Courage, Comrade!

in the spirit of fight the power fridays, i am going to post a video for josh , as he seems to have become apathetic in the fight against the MAN. maybe he should take the "White Straight Male Privilege" ExCo offered here at Oberlin, as it seems he has forgotten that if he is not part of the SOLUTION, he is part of the PROBLEM!

josh, have you forgotten that the fight against yourself is a never-ending battle?

here's a message, josh, from one of your favorite rappers--maybe he'll be able to jolt you out of your complacency.



Or is it too late for you?

The Reusable Yarn

Someone once told me a story about an old woman who was an expert knitter. Not surprising, I interjected with sarcasm, that a woman's greatest natural talent, after so many years of life, would be for such a traditional, domestic skill.
Just listen, the person told me.
The old woman lived in a small town, somewhere not far from here, but that you would be surprised to know actually existed, the kind of place so easily forgotten.

There the old woman lived alone for many years. No one was really sure how old she was, or how long she had been living in the town. Most of the people were new to the area; it was one of those towns with a lot of new developments, complexes for new families, where all the trees were cut down and you had to drive ten minutes to the grocery store. No one really knew each other, except perhaps in a line up one neighbor could identify another neighbor. "Yes, that's him" they would say, "I've seen him watering his lawn on Sunday mornings."

The old woman was probably the oldest person in town, other than the congregation of preists that lived next to the church.

but everyone knew who she was, because she could knit anything, and the wives of the young families would flock to church bake sales because the old woman would always be giving away the latest children's garments she had knitted: hats, scarves, sweaters, booties--all for the constant influx of newborns.

No one really paid much attention to the woman, otherwise.
That is, until the famine.

We are not Free (10 minute story)

Once upon a time, on a very clear night, two people stood on the steps of their house and looked up at the sky.
What they saw did not surprise them, for what they saw was exactly what they wanted to see.

One saw the universe, going on forever and ever in every direction, each star like a bread crumb tracing the way back to a home that may just as well have not existed.

The other saw a flat space, a decietful backdrop for the moon, pulling time forward in its endless orbit around the earth.



There on the step they stood, holding hands and looking at the sky, and then one of them spoke.

"Space is tricky, isn't it?"

The other nodded still looking up at the sky.

"Indeed."

It was true. What was the universe but a bundle of tricks? The thought was rather humerous, and one of them imagined walking through the sky, mistaking a star for a fallen snowflake on the ground and tripping over it. The other pictured himself chasing the stars around like fireflies, laughing and trying to keep track of where they flickered into darkness.

Next they sighed and inevitably each pondered their own solitude.
Neither could decide whether it was expanding or contracting.