The Happiness Helicopter

Bob just made the invention of a lifetime, if only he could feel good about it. That’s Shelly’s problem.

Helicopter Happynes 5-13-09(function() { var scribd = document.createElement(“script”); scribd.type = “text/javascript”; scribd.async = true; scribd.src = “”; var s = document.getElementsByTagName(“script”)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(scribd, s); })();

Downbeat Depressed Coworker :-(

Tom, Bob and Jill just want to have an upbeat lunch break for once.

Depressed Coworker 5-5-09(function() { var scribd = document.createElement(“script”); scribd.type = “text/javascript”; scribd.async = true; scribd.src = “”; var s = document.getElementsByTagName(“script”)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(scribd, s); })();

Rev-ASS: Pharmaceutical Commercial #1

Another forgotten sketch. This is a commercial for a drug I made up. Oh how I wish it was real. Enjoy.

Rev-Ass #1 – May 14th, 09(function() { var scribd = document.createElement(“script”); scribd.type = “text/javascript”; scribd.async = true; scribd.src = “”; var s = document.getElementsByTagName(“script”)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(scribd, s); })();

If you thought that was bad just think of the ones I’m not sharing.


I was going through some old writing on my computer tonight when I found what I can say with much gusto and confidence is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever written. A parody sketch of an ethnic based comedy show. I wrote it, it made me laugh and I filed it away with the other weird stuff without showing anybody and forgot all about it.  Tonight was the first time I seen it in over two and a half years.

I remember walking through the west village one night when I came upon a poster advertising a show inside a local theater. The basic premise was that the performer was of one ethnicity and that his wife was of another and they were both in therapy because of it. Why? I never bothered to find out. I had seen a lot of these shows being advertised at the time. I done stand up comedy for over five years and I always tried to avoid talking about being Irish. It’s hard to do when you live abroad but it is possible. I’ve never found ethnic based humor funny to be honest but some people base their whole careers on it. I went home and wrote a sketch taking the piss out of the show and the poster and went to bed. It was ridiculous, stupid and weird in that way that only makes me laugh and laugh alone. That was that. I scratched my itch and the following day I tried to write something proper.    

Upon finding it tonight I wanted to post it for a laugh. Why? Because it’s stupid and silly and it still makes me laugh even though it’s terrible. Then I thought of a piece Stewart Lee performed a year after I wrote my sketch that also cracked me up. It is in my opinion an accurate assessment unfortunately. See below:

Then I remembered how I felt when I saw the poster, I remember that I was pissed off. I had done a show recently that did not go well. I remember being embarrassed simply being a part of it and that a few performers had done well with some lazy, racist and misogynistic material. A few even drew some of the night’s biggest laughs by simply mining material from the stereotypes of their own ethnicity. I wasn’t jealous, just confused. I don’t think I was ever cut out to be a comedian anyway. If you didn’t laugh at the Stewart Lee video you probably would agree.

So the sketch is not a parody I realize but a satire. It still makes me laugh, probably only me though.

Parody – Therapy – 4 21 09(function() { var scribd = document.createElement(“script”); scribd.type = “text/javascript”; scribd.async = true; scribd.src = “”; var s = document.getElementsByTagName(“script”)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(scribd, s); })();

A Very Celtic Christmas

Two years ago Marisa and I sat in The Old Town Tavern patching up a particularly nasty argument that could only be resolved over drinks. At one point Marisa looked up and nodded down the bar “Hey look, isn’t that guy that comedian you love?” I looked around and standing a few feet away was Billy Connolly, chatting away to the locals looking everything I would expect him too. My favorite comedian of all time. The man I idolized as a child ever since finding a cassette tape of his album, “A Pick of Billy Connolly,” at home in an old suitcase. It was filled with wild stories and songs of his upbringing in Glasgow–terrifying hilarity that you could sing along with. Football violence, divorce and people shitting in your shoes. Everything a 10-year-old boy would love!

“You should go over and say hello. Tell him your a comedian too.” Marisa said.

“Nah, he looks busy”

“Go over and say hello or you will always regret it.”

I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was riveted to the spot. What would I say? What I would I do? It’s Billy Connolly! He left soon after and Marisa repeated that fact that I would regret not saying hello to him. I did. I promised that if I ever met him again I would approach him, or anyone else I admired.

Today I was standing in the open air market at Union Square completely bewildered and confused by the whole frantic lunacy called Christmas shopping. The snow fell steady and straight, for the first time in my life I hated the stuff. Why? Just why? So many people. I couldn’t even get to the counter to buy anything. Who was I buying for again? What was I buying? Will I rely on the new and improved “I’ll know it when I see it” system this year or the alternate but still reliable “I’ll buy stuff I like and then later work out who gets what at home” system.

I seen a man walking toward me. I recognized him but who was he? He looked familiar, like a family relation I had not seen in a while or something. Then it dawned on me. It’s Billy Connolly! As he walked past I knew I had to say something.

“Excuse me, but are you Billy Connolly?”

“Aye” he said smiling.

“My name is Colin, I’m a huge fan”

I told him I was an Irish comic living in New York. I also explained what had happened two years earlier at The Old Town Tavern two blocks north of Union Square. He thought this was very funny.

“You should have just come over” he said laughing.

I told him how I promised my girlfriend that if I ever seen him again I would walk up and say hello, which is exactly what I was doing. He was more than happy to stop and chat and we did so for over ten minutes. I was so nervous my knees were knocking together. All around us people pushed by with their shopping, stressed, cold, panicked, I couldn’t have been happier.

I told him how I started out doing music just like he did and drifted into comedy. I told him about sometimes I return from the city after a bad show, confused, depressed and drained of confidence I always look at what I consider one of the funniest routines ever “Old Women On A Bus” to remind myself why I’m doing what I do. He laughed and said he was actually bringing it back into his act.

“Do you perform much in New York?”

“I’m performing here in April I believe”

“I’ll go and see it for sure” I said explaining how I never actually seen him perform live.

“How are things working out for you?” He said.

I told him how I was moving from jokes to stories and how it doesn’t always work. I grew up in North Dublin surrounded by very colorful characters and wanted to talk more about that instead of “jokes.”

“Well that’s all I do” he said, “I just talk about funny stuff that’s happened to me, the stuff that makes me laugh”.

“I get less laughs with the long stories but I enjoy performing a lot more when I do them” I said.

“I always find doing the stuff you do for yourself, is always best”.

That said it all for me, just to hear him say that.

I spoke about how I’m not a natural extrovert so pre-show nerves can get pretty bad.

“Oh I get worse as I get older!” he said enthusiastically


Then using his hand to form a graph in the air he said, “When I started off it was bad, then it got better in the middle for years, but now, it’s like this” and he raised his hand high up in the air to indicate it being worse than ever before.

Most of it was a blur to be honest. I shook his hand and told him it was great to meet him at last. I wished him the best with his Christmas shopping. He wished me the best of luck with my comedy. I turned to walk away and he suddenly decided there was something else he wanted to say.

“There aren’t enough comedians in the world. There are too many Policeman, and Fireman, and Lawyers” and then he laughed “…and Priests!”

I agreed and we went our separate ways. I walked to 34th street and took the subway home very happy I had made the effort the second time around.