I have so many jokes, premises, setups, timing things but I don’t ever want to do stand up. Also, not a single comedian friend so I’m asking here. How do comedians feel about collaboration or getting words for free?

This cost of living crisis is getting out of hand now..the trickle down affect hits everything..i'm a model house craft enthusiast and even that's getting affected..I'm working on a lovely little period property at the moment but i cant get anything done...i had to put the gardener off last month..this month i planned to carpet the drawing room but when i found out what the hobby shop wanted per square millimetre i've had to leave it bare.

Hello! I'm back in the Dungeon!

I'm 41, and my wife recently left me.

But it's okay. I've found much healthier hobbies than I had last year.

Last year, my favorite hobby was sending AI-generated complaint emails to the volunteer administrator of my adult rec soccer league.

I'd given up porn.

My wife had given up on me.

So naturally, I redirected all that energy toward a guy who was just trying to organize soccer games on Sunday nights.

This poor guy would get perfectly worded, passive-aggressive emails about teenage referees, roster imbalances, and perceived recreational soccer injustices.

In my defense...

I was a Social Justice Recreational Soccer Warrior.

And nothing says, "Thanks for volunteering your time" quite like sending a three-page report on recreational soccer inequities.

I can't spell "inequities."

And I definitely can't define it.

But ChatGPT really opened some doors for me.

I never confronted anyone directly.

I just found creative passive-aggressive ways to annoy people.

For example, one season I named our team:

"REF! WE HAVE TO WORK TOMORROW!"

And every time the game got a little too physical, I'd yell the entire team name.

"REF! WE HAVE TO WORK TOMORROW!"

From my understanding, adult recreational soccer is basically three things:

Drink beer.

Make fun of your teammates.

Get a little exercise.

And if anyone interfered with that...

I became AI Judge Dredd.

"I AM THE LAW!... with ChatGPT."

Now I'm doing stand-up once a month.

Honestly, it feels a lot healthier than writing AI complaint emails.

Mostly because I can trauma-dump on strangers for the cost of two beers instead of paying a therapist deductible.

And you can't drink at therapy. It's already expensive enough.

Either you guys are too polite to leave...

or you actually want to hear more.

Unlike my therapist.

Beer does make it easier for me to open up about my problems.

Just ask my golf buddies.

By the tenth hole, they know more about me than my therapist...

and we're still eight holes from the clubhouse.

Last time I did stand-up here, I showed up completely unprepared and talked about my separation, politics, and racism.

You know...

all the things people hope a depressed 41-year-old man discusses during an open mic.

People weren't laughing. They seemed more nervous than I did.

They were wondering...

"Is somebody going to stop him? Like when people watch someone about to jump."

It felt less like stand-up comedy...

and more like a group therapy session nobody signed up for.

Life moves pretty fast.

At 40, I was in this exact room celebrating the surprise birthday party my wife threw for me.

At 41, I'm back in the same room, separated, doing open mic night, and paying divorce lawyers to divide everything we own in half.

Apparently, in the divorce...

I got custody of the Dungeon.

Thank you!

Hello! I’m back in the Dungeon!

I’m 41, and my wife recently left me.

But it’s okay. I’ve found much more fulfilling hobbies than I had last year.

Last year, my favorite hobby was sending AI-generated complaint emails to the administrator of my adult recreational soccer league.

I had given up porn...

My wife had given up on me...

So naturally, I took it out on a volunteer recreational soccer administrator.

This poor guy would receive perfectly worded, passive-aggressive complaints about teenage referees and roster inequalities.

Had to do my daughter’s hair into some kind of fancy bun for ballet the other day because my wife got tied up at work. It was a disaster.

This is exactly why women weren’t allowed to work in the 60s. I don’t recall Don Draper doing high ponytails in Mad Men.

When they say Israel is committing genocide some people push back and say "if they wanted to commit a genocide they could wipe them out in a couple of days! Why haven't they? No genocide.". This is an odd rebuttal. Say you were wrongly accused of murder. "We believe you killed this man" "Me? I'm not a murderer. Trust me. If I was a murderer you'd know about it. What happened to him? Strangled and dismembered? That's light work for someone like me."

I came out to my friend as gay as a joke and confessed my love for him and he said he had feelings for me too then I said it’s just a prank bro and laughed very hard and bro laughed so hard he cried and cried and cried!

2nd time doing stand up at open mic night

Hello! I’m back in the Dungeon!

This is my second time performing, and I’m more prepared this time...

Though I doubt anyone will notice.

I’m 41, and my wife recently left me.

But it’s okay. I’ve found much more fulfilling hobbies than I had last year.

Last year, my favorite hobby was sending AI-generated complaint emails to the administrator of my adult recreational soccer league.

I was bored. Kill me.

This poor guy was volunteering, and he would receive perfectly worded, passive-aggressive complaints about teenage referees and roster inequalities.

In my defense...

I was a Social Justice Recreational Soccer Warrior.

And there’s nothing that says, “Thank you for volunteering,” quite like sending a three-page report on recreational soccer inequities.

I can’t spell—or define—“inequities,” so let’s just say ChatGPT has really opened some doors for me.

I never directly confronted anyone.

I just found passive-aggressive ways to annoy them.

I once named our team:

“REF! WE HAVE TO WORK TOMORROW!”

And every time the game got a little too physical for my liking, I’d yell the whole team name:

“REF! WE HAVE TO WORK TOMORROW!”

From my understanding, adult recreational soccer is about drinking beer, making fun of your teammates, and getting some exercise.

And if anyone interfered with that...

I became AI Judge Dredd.

“I AM THE LAW!... with ChatGPT.”

Now I’m doing stand-up once a month.

It feels healthier than writing AI complaint emails.

Mostly because I can trauma-dump on strangers for the price of two beers instead of paying a therapist deductible.

And my therapist doesn’t even let me drink.

Either you guys are too polite to leave...

or you actually want to hear more.

Unlike my therapist.

Honestly, beer does make it easier for me to open up about my problems.

Just ask my golf buddies.

By hole ten, they know more about me than my therapist...

and they’re still eight holes away from the clubhouse.

Last time I did stand-up here, I showed up completely unprepared and talked about my separation, politics, and racism.

You know...

all the things you want a depressed 41-year-old man talking about in front of strangers.

People were on the edge of their seats.

Not because they were wondering:

“Where is this going?”

They were wondering...

“Is somebody going to stop him?”

It was less of a comedy set...

and more of a group therapy session nobody signed up for.

Life moves pretty fast.

If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

At 40, I was in this exact room celebrating the surprise birthday party my wife threw for me.

At 41, I’m back in the same room, doing open mic night, separated from my wife, and paying divorce lawyers to divide everything we own in half.

Apparently, in the divorce...

I got custody of the Dungeon.

Thank you!

context: I'm a Filipino immigrant in the US

Every time I go to the store I get $20 cash back to fund my gambling habit and hide it from my wife. Everything was fine until the new guy at her work told her our daughter’s name probably wasn’t inspired by my year abroad in France. Not sure why he had to bring sweet little Parlay into it. Hope he doesn’t know about my son, Vig.

I did an open mic on Thursday and opened with a line I made up on the drive over there. It killed and I’m not sure why.

Here it is:

I hate notary publics.

Seriously, that’s it. I know I delivered it well, and paused for reaction, but WTF?

I went on and did a couple bits I’ve been workshopping. When there was a little dead spot, I callbacked to the notary public schtick:

I said:

I think it’s their fucking stamps. Condescending assholes.

Huge laugh.

I wanted to close my 4 minutes with a final second callback and couldn’t think of anything on stage.

I know it’s really moronic, but it worked.

Anyone have something like this happen? I got more laughs with a line that took me 2 seconds to write than a bit I’ve been working on for weeks.

I was leaving a store as this guy was walking in. He opens the door, I exit, and he goes, 

“You're welcome.”

I thought, “For what? You were going in there. You didn't even know I was there.”

So I go, “Well, you're welcome.”

He goes, “For what?”

“I got out of your way. If I stood in the doorway, you couldn't have gotten in.”

That’s like if a pilot lands a plane, then stands at the door and tells everybody, “You're welcome. 

For what? Were you thinking about not landing it, you crazy bastard?

Author notes:

Having a bit of trouble knowing if this is excavated enough, I also thought of "That's like if we're both going to the fifth floor, you press five and go, “You're welcome.”

Could also flip the order and move the pilot analogy to right after the thought line, then cut back to I go "you're welcome" and then use the dumb logic to end it

But basically observation is Person 1 performs an action entirely for themselves. Person 2 gets indirect benefit, yet Person 1 demands gratitude from Person 2.

My friend Steve recently got married, and I went to the wedding.

Her name's Samantha. Lovely woman. Great personality. Loves football, plays games, tells the dirtiest jokes. She makes Steve incredibly happy. Absolutely amazing couple.

A few weeks before the wedding I was round their place and we were deciding what to have for dinner.

Steve says, “What do you fancy?”

Samantha says, “I don't mind.”

Steve goes, “Chinese?”

“Yeah, Chinese sounds good.”

And that was it.

I actually checked my watch.

Eight seconds.

She didn't reject six restaurants without suggesting an alternative. She didn't say “anything” and then produce a fucking exclusion list.

He suggested food. She wanted food. They ordered food.

I thought, Jesus Christ. Steve's found the perfect woman.

Anyway, the wedding comes around and the reception was at the local Social Club. Beautiful little village, actually. Houses made of local stone, thatched roofs, Union Jacks and St George's crosses flying from the lamp posts. Proper postcard stuff.

We all had a dance. I even got to dance with Samantha. Great mover, although she did insist on leading.

Later, Steve cracked open the champagne and we all raised our glasses to the happy couple.

Samantha tilted her head back to take a drink...

...and that's when I saw her Adam's apple.

So guys...

...now we know the secret to a happy marriage.

Ask any divorced man how he feels...

Only difference is, when he got screwed by his wife, he lost his house.

All you have to do is change a few flags.

we were going to attend a turn of the century Murder Mystery Party this weekend. I told her, "No need to attend. I would rather kill myself." Mystery solved.

I don't like sharing this but I did some time.

I did about 5 years and the first year was the toughest.

I got some advice before I went in.

"Don't smile, don't show weakness or they will eat you alive"

So the first day in

I walked in and kicked over a chair

(crazy eyed look )

and said

"My name is Ms Williams and I'll be your 7th grade science teacher........and open you textbook"

By November, I was their bitch.

Blowing my whole paycheck on Honey Buns and Hot Cheeto's

Just so I can pass a classroom observation.

Here's a rough premise I'm playing with;

My fiancée was wearing a collagen mask to bed, and it smelled strangely familiar—like a flavor I’d eaten a lot of as a kid: glue.

I asked why she had glue on her face.

She said, “It’s not glue.”

Well, I can’t be wrong, so I checked the ingredients. First ingredient: collagen. Glue has collagen. Second ingredient: PVA. I don’t know what PVA is, but those are definitely letters you’d find on a bottle of glue.

She said, “What about all the vitamins and minerals?”

I said, “Oh, you’re right. It’s vitamin glue. How far are we taking this health craze? We’re putting vitamins in the glue now?”

They say sexuality is fluid. Well there definitely should be some fluids if you’re doing it right. But if you’re not careful, there could be some solids.

My wife and I decided to get serious about our finances.

So we turned to witchcraft.

You guys can keep losing your life savings on crypto and finance bros. 

We’re getting rich off crystals and satan.

Hey, it worked for Jay Z and Beyonce.

WIP material I'm currently working on:

---

Isn't it strange how all motorcyclists will tell you: “Never leave the helmet on the seat. It's a bad omen, and it’s going to fall down and get damaged.” ?

Well, once I left helmet on the seat. I was like, “I'm just going to grab a quick drink, and I'll be right back.” Well, it happened: helmet fell down. Poor Helmet, he was only 8 years old. My best friend’s son. Ended up with a couple of bruises, scraped knees, and both arms broken in about 1000 different places.

Seems the bad omen part was true, as later that day I got fined for speeding as well. What a shitty day.

so geniunely Joe biden swap the president for a day

only executive order

white people cant wear bonnets

I guarantee these words have never been spoken, "Hey, Alexa, play Dirty Pop."

Every time we watch a movie with a black and a white protagonist, she always says: "If I could choose who to be in real life..." and she always chooses the white character.

I would think it's a coincidence... if the last movie we watched wasn't The Intouchables.

What do you call a Middle Eastern exotic dancer? A Gaza Stripper.

Im going to get my sex change next week.

Yeah i overpaid my hooker.. and i need to pay rent.

I mean that's pretty much it.