Here it is.

But really, here it is:

Looking for the jokes

Damn, but I can make an exit. Here we go, folks.

I got on a plane for New York City — leaving Boulder for the last time — just before 1 o’clock this morning. While most of last week was filled with various rugs being yanked out from under me, getting on that plane was a huge relief, because I ended up exhausted on a redeye flight sitting next to the loud drunk guy with the loud ringtone.

I’d seen him in the airport and figured right away that being his airborne neighbor would be the only way the world would let me out of this. Chief Niwot, fate, the comedy gods. I don’t know. But I was meant to leave Boulder crunched next to a mix of the Verizon “can you hear me now?” guy and Will Ferrell’s character from “Old School.”

As a huge fan of comedy and sometimes a student, I can recognize a punch line a mile away. Sometimes it’s tough to find the joke, though. Help.

Punch line: As a guy who spent most of his 2½ years in Colorado resenting the populations outside of Denver and Boulder primarily for their voting habits, the best time I had all week was a night at Oskar Blues up in Lyons. I knew it was going to be a good night when the woman singing ended a song as we entered and yelled out, “Hey, (Drinkin’ Boots), where’s your robot suit?” Read the rest of this entry »

It’s Thursday, so it’s column day. But it’s also news about Jennie Dorris day. Who’s Jennie Dorris? Find out for yourself!

From that story:

From Bach to Beer Pong in a matter of minutes - accompanied by the intermittent whoosh of a latte machine.

Only in Boulder.

Serving as chirpy host before a gathering of a few dozen 20-somethings in Boulder’s Laughing Goat Coffeehouse recently, Jennie Dorris introduced “Guilty Pleasures” - a program combining amusing essay-readings about pedicures and beer pong (we’ll explain that game in a bit) with the serious playing of chamber music.

This week’s column is up. I forgot to post it because… it’s complicated.

Here’s some of it:

It must have been two hours that I spent on the Anthem Web site, poring over the minute differences in insurance policies before I realized that I had no idea what I was reading. Like one of those times when you’re too sleepy to read, so you read the same sentence over and over again for 15 minutes until you see you’re not getting anywhere.

My sentence was something like this: “deductible out-of-pocket HSA blah blah I don’t know it was all in doctor-plus-lawyer language.”

Being on the verge, however, of lacking coverage, I soldiered on and blindly bought bizarre coverage. Some guy immediately showed up at my door, socked me in the face and told me that’d be $15, but then a doctor was right behind him, and that guy iced my jaw, gave me some aspirin and told me it was gratis.

The column this week is built around two emailers responding to two recent diatribes on whatever it is I write about. One emailer was bummed that I wrote about Scientology and the Freemasons in the same paragraph:

“I’m certain you have already been contacted by the legal department of the ‘Church’ of Scientology. These jokers will sue people to the point of bankruptcy even without grounds for a case.”

Not so far, no, but this is exciting already, isn’t it? Erik really writes to grab the attention. I did get a chuckle or two out of someone suing me to the point of bankruptcy. If that ever seemed to be on the horizon, I’d probably just buy a fancy meal and beat them to the punch.

The other wrote with very sweet tips on a long-distance relationship:

“Don’t scrimp on phone bills. It’s part of the rent. Use land lines when you can, because the tone of voice comes through more clearly.”

Yeah, I believe in a related rule, which is that people in long-distance relationships should never, ever IM each other. While it’s tempting, I find that people get distracted easily. Maybe you get caught up reading a Web site or the nutritional values of your pint of comfort ice cream. Whatever it is, you’ll eventually accidentally ignore or offend someone.

Plus, there’s the option of logging your chats, which is like setting bear traps all over your psyche. “But you said” is annoying enough without a transcript.

(Oh yeah, New York City!) This week’s column is up and I’ve already gotten a very sweet email response on it. From the column:

So, yeah. I’m moving to New York.

Why? There are elements of career, adventure and romance. Mostly, I’ve done the things that I came to Boulder to do.

After graduating, I moved here to nab a job at a hip youth-targeted paper. I put a couple of lines on my resume, built a comedy show or two, and now it’s time to take all of that and start feeling really, really insignificant by lining it up next to the experiences of writers and comedians in New York City.

Technorati tags: [ NYC | comedy | moving ]

This week’s column is up. It was only a matter of time before I, as someone who has ever touched the Internet, would mentioned David Allen’s “Getting Things Done.”

As promised last week, I’ve spent a lot of time recently getting organized. Not creepy-organized. I mean, I’m still going to forget birthdays and stuff. Just organized enough.

I’m young. I’m afraid of taxes, jobs, careers, decisions, cooking, mice, bone-in chicken, new moles, getting older, accidentally joining cults and the long-term effects of having a MySpace profile, to name a few things. When I read all over the Internet about people reading this one self-help/productivity book, changing their lives and swearing by it, I was a little nervous. Sounded cult-like.

Worse, when a very good friend I had jokingly accused of being in a cult on a few occasions brought it up — independently — I was both intrigued and terrified. I think I’m a little obsessed with cults, other mysterious organizations and assorted weirdos.

More at DailyCamera.com…

Weekly column is up.

A couple of weeks ago, holiday lights and decorations disappeared from the trees in Boulder. They’re still up in the apartment. Some of them aren’t seasonal — I have to use two strings of lights as extension cords for speakers in order to ensure that funk reaches all corners of my home.

The two seasonal strings, though, are still up in the windows. The Lady and I still turn them on with some frequency, too. It’s adorable denial, but as much as I like the lights, I don’t want to feel like I’m letting things get stale. That’s how out-of-season decorations always feel. Just looking at them, you can almost taste the gone-crunchy Christmas-tree-shaped Peeps.

The column’s up at the Daily Camera today. This week, we explore the idea of anti-Valentine’s Day parties and why I think they’re crappy and why we should really be able to move on instead of dwelling on how anti-Valentine’s Day or anti-anything else we are.

All of this is a manifestation of a little problem I have. My mother really put it succinctly today. She said, “Dave, you’ve never been very good at limbo.” True. And we’re not talking about the Lincoln Limbo, though it’s true that I’m also awkward and inflexible and prone to falling down in front of crowds of happy, inebriated people.

Oh, well.

This week’s column is up.

I’m sure it has been just as wild for you as it has for the folks I know. Our old pal Drinkin’ Boots, for example, called me with this message over the weekend: “Dave, I just walked past a bus full of pirates, and in the context of this week it wasn’t even weird.” Totally unfazed! Take that, world!

So what do we do now? We take the time to tackle those totally bizarre projects we’ve been swearing we’ll get around to. You know the ones. The ones you say out loud once and then feel weird about and try to forget:

• “I’m going to laminate my degree for use as a placemat.”
• “I’m going to get certified as something. I don’t care what.”
• “I’m going to learn to play ‘Livin’ On a Prayer’ on my harmonica so I can impress a girl on Valentine’s Day.”

Time to get to work…

This week’s column is up at the Daily Camera and it’s about my possible bid for the White House:

Homeland security: It took me a little over a week to catch a mouse that was in my apartment. Longer than I’d like, for sure — especially with my friend Rachael constantly telling me I was going to die of hantavirus because the mouse was making doots in my food — but I got the job done on a pretty low budget. Plus, nobody was able to sneak in and get cellphone video of the mouse’s demise.

Some of my friends are a little weaker on this issue, including my buddy Drinkin’ Boots, who recently saw that part of his screen door needed repair, ripped it off, threw it in a bush and went inside to eat bacon. Is that how you want this country run? Didn’t think so. Basically, that’s a strike against me and my friends for president.

(Veep veep, mm, veep veep, yeah!)

Also, tomorrow night is the Secret Circus at CU-Boulder’s Old Main. 8 p.m. Free. Juice and cookies! A sneak preview video should be posted late tonight or early tomorrow.  Tonight, Elisha and I will be telling jokes at Albums Bistro at 8 p.m. Headlining will be Andrew Orvedahl and we’ll also be graced by the presence of Aaron Gabow.