"If you’re not having fun while you’re performing, you’re doing it wrong."
Good morning everyone and thank you for meeting me here. Before I begin, are any of you hungry? I tried the new Breakfast Croissandwich the other day and it really hits the spot. No takers? Any coffee? Maybe a Milky Way White Hot Chocolate? Alright, well I’ll just get some munchkins for the table, just in case.
Now that we’re all settled in, I’d like to take a moment to thank all of you individually. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I’d also like to apologize for the amount of phone calls and emails that you all received from me. I’m certain that after today, though, you’ll understand why I bothered you so much.
As I’m sure most of you are aware by now, my name is Franklin Obel—not to be confused with my business associate Frank Linoble, who will be arriving shortly—and what I’m about to tell you could very well change your life. I’d like you all to do me a favor and take out your cell phones. Now think about how many cell phones you have had in the past decade or so. Quite a few, right? They’re always breaking, or falling in acid or they’re coming out with cooler ones with fewer buttons.
Well what if I told you that I had a way to turn all of those future lost or obsolete cell phones into money that would make you rich beyond your wildest dreams? Would that peak your interest? Well what you’re feeling right now is your interest being not only peaked, but also fondled and groped. By me. Franklin.
I’m here today to give you the exclusive opportunity to begin selling the iPhone 12sgs immediately.
Now, you may say, “But, wait! Franklin! That version of the iPhone does not even exist yet! They’re only up to the fourth model of the iPhone. How can we possibly sell the 12sgs?”
I, along with four other VIP businessmen have bought the selling rights to the iPhone 6g thru the iPhone 12sgs from a high level custodial executive at Apple. . Now, I cannot tell you who that is, but I’ll give you a hint: his name sounds similar to mine and he’s my best friend. Don’t believe me? Look on the blogosphere.
I am telling you right now, if you purchase these rights from me, you could be making up to five figures a week.
I’m looking at the five of you right now and I see people that are hungry—not just for the unbelievably succulent Dunkin’ Donuts Tuna Melt Flatbread©, but for an opportunity to become more than just average Joes or Josephines. Look at my suit. Does it look average? No. That’s because it is exceptional, this is purple silk imported from Iran. Look at my Kia Solantra, does that look average? Not with those gold flames it doesn’t.
When Frank came to me, I was just like you: living alone, eating three dozen glazed donuts a day. But I took Frank up on his offer and now he is my best friend. And we live together in an awesome apartment.
So, in closing, I’d like to leave you with an inspirational quote from the man that started it all Steven Jobs- “Being the richest man in the cemetery doesn’t matter to me … Going to bed at night saying we’ve done something wonderful… that’s what matters to me.”
I’ve done something wonderful here for you all today that could also possibly make us all the richest men in the cemetery of life.
Thank you. God Bless you. I’ll await your answers at that table over there.
You want more?
B Cafe is that spot.
Fitz and The Tantrums.
In a lot of ways, this post is stupid. It doesn’t matter, though because the only person I know that checks this won’t think it is, so I’ll treat the rest of you like an imaginary therapist. I’ll call you Sigmund.
I don’t know, Sigmund. It’s probably just because I hear him come through my headphones twice a week and he makes me laugh that I feel a particular bond to Maron (note that I called him Maron, showing that I know him on a personal level), but I need him. He is a reminder that there is no such thing as failing as long as you can live with yourself. Every day I think about whether or not I want to do this, if I really want to try to be in comedy when everybody in the world is basically screaming “Don’t do it you fucking moron! There is nothing there! You’re dilusional!” Maron has the ability to make me feel like that dilusion is a badge of honor. That I can turn around and tell everybody, “yeah I know I shouldn’t do this, but I have to.” That even though right now as I type this there are a hundred thousand kids that think they’re going to be in comedy. I still want it.
I wish I could just go to law school sometimes (talk about spoiled shit to say). It’s true, though. Right now, if I decided that I was going to be the best lawyer on the planet, I think I would be able to have a sense of security in that path— graduate, law school, clerkship, partner, retirement, death. I would probably be pretty happy and dismiss all this shit as youthful ignorance. But I do know that if I don’t try, if I don’t get on stage and try to do what I want to do, I will never be really happy. I might be able to convince myself I’m okay, but I’ll always watch television and think about what could have been.
Maron reminds me that it’s not going to be easy. That, in fact, it’s going to be really fucking hard. I will have to give up whatever relative comfort I have grown accustomed to and actually think for myself. But he also says that the process is the most liberating gift somebody can give you. He can’t live without doing comedy— that being honest and trying your best to do what you think is right with people you love is the only way to really live your life. It’s okay to be crazy.
Right now I’m still stuck in this mode where I kind of want everything to come easy, I want everything to just be handed to me one morning because I believe it should be. I might say I don’t, but I do. I have to stop. I have to work harder.
Anyways, Sigmund, I guess I’ll just say thanks for giving me Marc Maron. He will never read this, but that doesn’t matter. he knows he has helped. And although he has the second most popular podcast of all time, he is mine. Nobody can take my personal sage away from me and when other people talk about his show or him, they have no idea What The Fuck (ha!) they’re talking about.
Thank you, Maron. Thank you for listening, Sigmund. I know it will eventually be okay. These other kids don’t want it as bad as I do. Fuck them.