Random Neural Firings on the Flight Home from Ohio

(I flew back home to Florida today from visiting my sister in Andover, Ohio. As usual, I was running late and brought no form of entertainment to get me through the long day of flying. I decided to make random observations and write them on a little pad I found in my laptop bag.).

First Flight:

1. I’m waiting at the gate to board for my plane, and one thing I notice is how nobody talks to anybody else. Everyone has an iPod, smartphone, or some other contraption to keep themselves from interacting with other people. No wonder we’re all getting A.D.D. I refuse to do this, so I spend my time imagining who I would choose if I were forced to pick one person here to have sex with. It is slim pickins. I go with a well-dressed blond lady who’s at least 47-years-old.


2. I’m finally seated on the plane. With any luck, these two seats next to me will stay empty. Either that, or some megababe will sit next to me. Though I don’t know where the hell she’d come from, because there sure weren’t any babes out in the gate.

3. No such luck. Some pretty boy throws his bag up in the overhead and sits on the aisle seat. Seconds later, a nerdy pear-shaped girl with glasses and a book I’ve never heard of sits in the seat between us. Before you get all upset with me for insulting this girl, please know that it won’t be long before I start convincing myself that Nerd Girl is sorta kinda hot.

4. I could never be a flight attendant. The one working our section is attempting to calmly explain to some middle-aged jackass that he has to wait to put his small laptop bag in an overhead compartment because it is a crowded flight and the bigger bags are priority. But he keeps lifting it up to the compartment anyway! “No sir,” she politely tells him. “I promise I will help you with your laptop, but you must wait.” If I were her, not only would I tell him where he could stick his stupid ass laptop, I would “help” him put it there.

5. On a flight home from Europe a few years ago, I ended up sitting next to a Russian fashion model that has her own line of clothing in Germany. She was stunning; I mean seriously freaking gorgeous. She also didn’t speak English worth a damn. Amazingly enough, we still talked for three hours. She knew just enough English that, with the help of a Russian/English dictionary, she could sorta figure out what I was saying. As for what she was saying, I really didn’t give a damn as long as I could look at her. Anyway, we exchanged numbers, emails, etc. and tried to keep in touch, but, well, how the hell do you do that when you don’t speak a common language? So, we never became anything other than occasional pen pals.

I told you that story because I have a theory: I think that you only get one hot chick in the seat next to you in your entire life. And I blew mine on a girl that speaks Russian, German, and Latvian but no Goddamn English. So now I’m stuck next to Pretty Boy and Nerd Girl.


6. Son of a bitch. A smoking hot blonde got on right before takeoff and sat down across the aisle from me…next to some dork. Where’s the justice in this world?


7. You know, with a little makeup and a new hairstyle, Nerd Girl could be kinda hot.


8. Pretty Boy is now reading Cosmo For Men. I had no idea such a magazine existed. Part of me thinks that he is a real vagina. The other part of me is just jealous that the bastard has something to read.


9. I’m trying to convince myself that Smoking Hot Blond only seems hot because of all the ugliness around her. I have failed to mention that the ugliness includes me. I haven’t showered yet today, my clothes are wrinkly, and I haven’t shaved in a week. I’m surprised none of the other passengers have thrown change at me. Or told me to get a job.


10. Dammit, we just landed in Atlanta and I have like 15 minutes to be on my next flight. I need to make like OJ Simpson through the airport to my gate. People older than 40 will know what I’m talking about. People under 30 will think I’m about to slash the throats of a blond and her young boyfriend.

Second Flight:

1. Well, I made it to my connecting flight, but I didn’t get to take a leak or grab something to eat. This flight is already starting to suck. Please please please at least give me a hottie to talk to. And something to eat.


2. Wonderful. I get two extras from “The Bucket List” sitting next to me. Whoa. Dammit! And the one directly next to me has B.O.! Of all the damn luck. Plus, I am very hungry.


3. HEY. GUY SITTING BEHIND ME. STOP READING OVER MY SHOULDER. THAT IS VERY IRRITATING. ALSO, HAVE I MENTIONED THAT I AM STILL FUCKING HUNGRY?


4. We’re in the air now, and I’m starting to think it is a good thing this guy next to me stinks. Because if he didn’t, I might’ve started eating him.


5. I now feel badly for the poor guy that was reading over my shoulder. I can hear the old man next to him blathering on about how they “used to do it in the military”. If I was back there, I’d have to strangle him like Schwarzenegger did to that one guy on a plane in “Commando”. Then I’d eat him.


6. Can they at least give me the damn bag of six peanuts they hand out?

7. Uh-oh. I think the guy next to me peeked at these notes. I wonder if he located on here how I make fun of his B.O. You know what? Serves him right. Maybe next time he’ll learn to locate his deodorant.

8. My God, this flight is taking forever. I just wolfed down those peanuts and almost swallowed the bag in the process. I still haven’t peed because I’m pretty sure it would be impossible to move these two corpses next to me so I can go to the lavatory.


9. I’ll probably post this in a separate blog, but my standup gig in Alliance, Ohio went fantastic. Nine comics performed, and everyone got great laughs. I met some new friends, and was excited to finally perform in front of my sister and brother-in-law. Like I said, I’ll post this in its own blog, but I am writing about this now in order to keep myself from eating my notepad and pen.


10. We’ve finally landed. I think I’ll kiss the Florida soil when I get out of this plane. Then I’ll eat some of it. Then pee on it.


11. Over the loudspeaker: “Please be careful when disembarking. Due to the rain, the ramp is wet. We care about you and don’t want you to get hurt.” Why is it whenever I they say “we care about you”, I hear “we don’t want to get sued by you”?


12. Home Sweet Home. I’m outta here.

First-Ever Live Blog

So THAT is Why Joe Hasn’t Been Blogging!

Three days ago was the six month anniversary since my last posted blog here. From what I hear, you have to post quite frequently for a blog to be successful. Somehow, I doubt posting at the rate of twice a year is going to cut it.

That’s okay. I’ve decided I’m alright with the idea of never being a successful blogger. I simply don’t have the desire to post that frequently. And it’s not like I was ever paid. But I do have one regret: I was just begining to make a few friends who maintain some hilarious blogs, (If you’re curious, most of them can be found on humor-blogs.com) and I’ve already lost touch with most of them. Hopefully soon I can catch up with their blogging.

However, my laziness and lack of friendly courtesy hasn’t been all for naught. This is because I have a new creative outlet: stand-up comedy! I’m actually pretty excited about this endeavor, because now I can be funny without any damn typing or formatting. It’s the ultimate in lazy humor!

Actually, that is a flat-out lie. The writing is actually harder. But it is more rewarding, because I actually get to hear my audience laugh. Well, if they laugh.

Luckily, in my first attempt, they did. See for yourself.

(WARNING: I was VERY nervous the first minute or so, so I really sucked. But after that I had a few jokes hit and I got pretty comfortable.)

Joe Simmons - Open Mic at The Reserve 8/10/2008

The Amazing Super Special London Blog with Pictures and Videos!

As many of you know, I took a week-long vacation in London last month. That's right: the land of Big Ben, two-story buses, fish and chips, and a bastardized form of the English language is where I spent eight days and seven nights in the middle of January. It was an incredible experience to say the least. I've been asked several times when I will finally blog about it. I guess "February 18^th, 2008" would be the correct answer.

Since it is tricky to write about any vacation without risking boredom-related fatalities amongst readers (face it…no matter how much fun you have on a trip, listening to you recount it is always coma-inducing for your friends), I've decided to share only a few funny anecdotes about my vacay in the highly-popular* "Random Crap" format.

* As measured by the latest Nielsen Ratings. Contact my publicist for the official statistics
.

1. The first thing I noticed happened before I even left Fort Myers. I've flown several times in my life, and never once has anyone ever paid any attention to the silly-looking pre-flight safety demonstration given by the attendants. This flight was no exception. I marveled at how an entire plane chocked full of passengers could completely ignore uniformed airline employees performing what looks like "The Macarena" with no music. Knowing this, I'm surprised the flight attendants don't perform the actual Macarena…or a version with middle fingers extended. I would.

My first stop was in Detroit, where, because of a five hour layover, I arranged to meet a friend who lives up there for dinner. So I was irritated that it was taking so long for us to even get on the tarmac for takeoff. After the plane left the gate, it started rolling for what seemed like an eternity.

"Dude," I said to the guy next to me. "Are we driving to Detroit?"

He simply laughed and went back to his magazine.

Victoria Station, the first picture I took in London. You'll better understand its beauty to me after reading random item number two.

2. The flight from Detroit to London was uneventful, unless you want to get picky and count the part where I wondered if I was about to die. The pilot was attempting to land at London's Gatwick Airport in a driving rainstorm, and as we were approaching the landing strip the plane kept rolling violently from left to right and back again. This plane was relatively empty, and I started wondering if there was a safer seat I could move to in case of a crash. I decided I was probably safest if I never unfastened my seatbelt, and that even if I did move I would probably pick the only seat that somehow got sucked into an airplane engine.

Oddly, while most of the other passengers were justifiably freaking out (out of the corner of my eye I saw a young kid make the cross with his fingers and start praying), I had a big shit-eating grin on my face. I guess it was one of those "living in the moment" things where I decided that if I'm going to die, I'm going to go with a smile on my face. So I started thinking about all the fun crap I did in my life. The time I made out with three girls at the same time in 9^th grade flashed through my brain a lot.

Anyway, the pilots never made a single announcement, and we landed safely. Apparently those kinds of landings are commonplace there.

Both of the above pics are apparently by law required to be taken in London on a vacay.

3. I noticed a lot of subtle differences between London and where I'm from in Florida. Just to cite one small example, they don't have the Sun over there. At least, I never saw it. I went to Latvia two years ago and never saw the sun there, either. I'm beginning to think all that "Earth rotates on its axis every day" stuff I learned in school was a bunch of horsecrap. It must sink into the Atlantic every night and pop up out of the Pacific every morning.

Another shiny day in London! Note the shopping bags, relevant in Random Item number four.

4. If I can give you one small piece of advice when traveling, let it be this: Never use a tour guide that is bored with tourist attractions and really just wants to go shopping. I met a wonderful woman named Julia in London, as planned, but dragging her out of women's stores sometimes required a Taser and a wheelbarrow.

Gorgeous! But she thought her hat made her look like a "postman". I thought it made her look like a New York cabbie, but I kept that to myself.

5. Speaking of clothing stores, I noticed that women's fashions were always featured prominently on the storefront, and were always the first department you see when you walk in. Apparently, they find women's clothes much more important for marketing than men's, because you had to read signs on the wall to locate men's apparel. Like the following:

Men's clothes downstairs

Men's Department on Level 3

Men's Apparel down in basement next to septic tank

Men's Fashions three miles up Oxford Street, take a left at homeless shelter

Men's Department down in dungeon past fire-breathing dragon

Alas, I was disappointed by the selection.

6. Every single vehicle in London was either a Mini Cooper, a red bus, one of those weird taxi cabs, or an ultra-expensive luxury car. I saw BMW police cars!

I made fun of London's cabs, but they are actually incredibly roomy inside.

7. Even after surviving my flight to London, I was still pretty sure I was going to die before I made it back to the U.S. Why? Because I never knew what the hell side I was supposed to be looking before crossing a street. To those who've never been to England, the Brits drive on the left, or wrong, side of the road. This led to me nearly walking into full-speed double-decker buses more than once.

Now, if any English person wants to contend that they are driving on the correct side, let me ask you: Why are you the only country in the world that needs these (below) painted on every single crosswalk?

Haha! We don't need these in America, you silly Brits! USA! USA!

8. One thing amazing about London is the incredible amount of people there. It is a swirling mass of humanity. No matter what store, restaurant or mall you are walking in or out of, it feels like the concert just let out.

No matter where you were, you were surrounded.

9. To go to the bathroom in any public restaurant, you go through a series of stairwells and doors that get smaller and smaller until you wonder whether you've stumbled into the restroom for boys 12 and under. When you get through the last door (you'll have to walk in sideways) and actually find yourself in a restroom, you:

1. Pee in something that resembles a urinal

2. Look for any kind of button or lever

3. Not find one

4. Panic momentarily, thinking you may have peed somewhere you're not supposed to

5. Realize that it is, in fact, a urinal

6. Mutter to yourself, "if the stupid-ass Brits don't know how to make a flushable urinal, they can stare at my pee".

Great restrooms when you are specifically looking to pee while rubbing shoulders with the guy next to you.

10. There are Starbucks everywhere. You couldn't throw a stone without it hitting a Starbucks, caroming off a Mini Cooper and breaking a window in another Starbucks. At least, that's what happened with me.

Julia said one reason she loves London is Starbucks. I had to straighten her out by letting her know Starbucks is an American company.

I'll take this over a Starbucks any day. I'm going to look into opening one in the U.S.

11. Brits don't have cash registers, they have tills. They don't get in line, they queue. They don't have subways, they have an underground. They don't use US Dollars, they use English Pounds.

At current exchange rates, they are using US Dollars to polish their shoes.

I'm kind of a big thing over there.

12. I've made a little fun of England and the English here, but I want to stress that I had an absolutely wonderful time, and I truly did not want to leave. The Londoners I met were all amazingly polite, helpful, and had that beautiful accent. I would really love to live there for a year, if I could pull it off. Now, if I haven't completely bored you senseless, I've added a few pictures and video clips to the end of this blog to peruse at your convenience.

Hopefully, I'll be back one day to make more.

I nearly vomited when I saw an egg on my pizza. Guess what? It was the best part! Egg on pizza is delicious!

I bought a genuine Belgian waffle from a sidewalk vendor. Best damn waffle I ever ate.

Julia's looks were, uh, arresting.

This was an astonishing sight to me. An English Waffle House is fancy! With wine glasses! Julia wouldn't let me go in there to see if the employees had actual teeth.

The London Tower Bridge. It was absolutely freezing cold walking over it.

Now for a few video clips:

(Warning: I write funny blogs, but I do not necessarily make funny videos. Mine are just as stupid as everyone else's.)

Piccadilly Circus

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Doubledecker Bus in London

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In a London Phone Booth

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Trafalgar Square

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Access Hollywood’s Pat O’Brien Interviews Me and Learns the Truth About Slow Joe

Pat O'Brien: Hello, everyone. I'm Pat O'Brien of Access Hollywood, and today I'm here in Cape Coral, Florida interviewing up-and-coming humor superstar Joe Simmons, or as you most likely know him, "Slow Joe". Joe, how are you doing today?

Me: I'm doing fantastic, Pat.

O'Brien: Well, 2007 was fantastic for you. Your blog exploded in terms of popularity, you won a few contests, you have hundreds of friends, and now you've moved to a new MySpace Comedy page. You've had all this success while never getting sucked into drama or compromising your integrity. You must be very excited about what 2008 holds for you.

Me: I absolutely am, Pat. There's no stopping me this year.

O'Brien: That's what we hear. Let me ask you, what is your biggest motivating factor? Is it the creativity? The fame? The prospects of financial success? What is it that really drives you?

Me: The chicks, Pat.

O'Brien: Um, excuse me?

Me: The girls. The hotties. The struttin' legs and the bouncin' boobies. I'm in it for the nookie, Patrick.

O'Brien: Well, I gotta say, that's quite an, um, interesting answer. I kind of thought it would be more about your, you know, strong ethics. However, we did hear that you are quite a flirt on MySpace. But you have literally hundreds of readers and friends! You can't possibly be flirting with all of them, can you?

Me: Well, uh, of course, um, uh, of course I can.

O'Brien: But hundreds of women? Come on, that just isn't feasible! How can you do it?

Me: (Sigh) Follow me, Pat.

(He follows me to the back of my house where I open a door to a windowless room. Inside there are at least 20 guys in front of computers sending messages and leaving comments all over MySpace.)

Me: Welcome to the headquarters of Slow Joe, Inc. As you just figured out, I can't possibly flirt with thousands of women at the same time. In the beginning, I tried to, Pat. I really did. But my operations just got too big for one man. So I had to outsource.

O'Brien: Wait…I can't believe this! You hire people to do your flirting for you?

Me: Only the first few flirtations. You know, to help separate the contenders from the pretenders. I have them each concentrating their flirting abilities on different territories of the world. Once we establish that we have a "hot prospect", that's when I take over.

O'Brien: This is—this is preposterous! Who are these people?!?

Me: Well, that is the genius of my operation, Pat. I started out hiring some illegals from Mexico and Central America, but it turned out they were terrible flirts. I mean awful, Pat. One of them actually left a comment on a Swedish hottie's page that said, "Can I stick me in your num-num?" Can you believe it? What the hell kind of flirtation is that? I don't even know what a "num-num" is! So obviously, I had to fire them all and report them to the INS.

O'Brien: You hired ILLEGALS? But—

Me: Yeah, it was a bad mistake. It nearly cost me all of the Netherlands, which is a great source of hot girls. But with some—

Computer Guy 1: MR. SIMMONS! MR. SIMMONS! We got a live one here in Sector 43!

Me: Excuse me for a second, Pat. (To Computer Guy) Where at?

Computer Guy 1: In Germany. The Frankfurt area.

Me: Hmm…I've had some good and bad luck there. What are the stats?

Computer Guy 1: Blonde, six feet tall, skinny, nice rack.

Me: Sounds good. Keep up the flirting and I'll let you know when I'll take over.

O'Brien: I cannot believe what I'm seeing. This is so deceptive..so dishonest…so—

Me: Efficient, Pat. "Efficient" is the word you are looking for. It's a new time, and Slow Joe Inc. needed new ways to penetrate the market.

O'Brien: Well, at least tell me who these people are.

Me: That's the best part. They're WGA writers! I told them I wouldn't pay them a cent, but all 20 of them could sleep in this room and I'll feed them my leftovers. Done deal!

O'Brien: (Just shakes his head)

Me: Well, I am all about integrity, Pat. Now, if you'll excuse me, I got some flirting to do!

I wish to congratulate the Writer's Guild of America in negotiating the end of their three-month strike. As a group, you definitely did well to protect your deserved income for your creative efforts for years to come. Good job!