My online writing consultation business is almost ready to launch. I’m just hoping that “If you bild it, they will come.” It’s being created by my cousin, a salesman with tech skills (obviously) who does stand-up comedy on the side. As I’ve said before on this blog, I intend to do the same someday.
That’s where the contrast between us becomes interesting, our collaboration a seemingly odd juxtaposition of different styles. He promotes himself as a family-oriented, wholesome Christian comedian. I’d imagine his comedic influences are along the lines of comedians like Bill Cosby and Jeff Foxworthy.
I like their work, too–I appreciate anything that’s funny. But my books, and hypothetical stand-up material, are not the kind of stuff kids should be exposed to. An eight year-old might suddenly erupt into puberty. My prominent influences are more of the Eddie Murphy and Louis CK, South Park and Family Guy variety.
For example, in expressing my gratitude for his Herculean efforts to establish this endeavor, I told him he could have my firstborn child. Otherwise, I said, “it” will probably end up in a dumpster somewhere. What an abhorrent thought this must be to a sober-minded father of a newborn.
I suggested we team up sometime for a joint open mic performance. Surely they’d double our allotted time for a duo. We could each write down our jokes, then pull them out at random from a hat.
“All right, folks, here’s one from brother Seth: ‘I had a difficult time trying to explain the mating habits of the chimpanzees when I took my young nephew to the zoo. I told him, “Well, he just asked her to marry him, and she said ‘yes’.”‘”
“And now this one looks like it’s from Brian. Do I seriously have to say this? Okay,” he would now deliver my joke with a grim sense of resignation, “sometimes my pants are too loose and I’m not wearing a belt. I try to maintain a constant erection to help keep them from falling down.”
It all boils down to family being family, so fucking gosh darn it.