There are very funny people who aren't good at Twitter and people who are really good on Twitter where that's the best or the only thing they do. There are some people I know that don't write creatively outside of Twitter, but they're so good at Twitter.
When you're confined to a hospital bed, there aren't many appointments you can make. You await visits from friends and family members. You enjoy the coconut ice cream they smuggle in. You tolerate the erratic and invasive visits of doctors and nurses, hoping that one of them will bring you closer to going home.
I'm not usually vain about my body. It's like Pennsylvania: The same way the Keystone State comprises Philadelphia and Pittsburgh with not much in between, I've got good legs and shapely eyebrows, and it's kind of a wasteland outside of that.
Although my grandmother was a strict parent and abided my grandfather's kosher diet, as a Nana, she had grown away from religion and was almost unbelievably permissive.
A vest, as a clothing item, always makes a statement, but depending on context, those declarations vary a great deal.
I don't resent at all people saying, 'Oh, he's like a sweetheart'... but within comedy, it's a very funny way to talk about someone because it usually means they don't have much of an act.
For many comedians, two common anxiety triggers include performing in front of family members and doing brand new material.
Given that I often wear shorts with a T-shirt, baseball cap, and backpack most days, a crew-neck shirt gives me the appearance of an undercover cop on the way to a sting operation at a summer camp.
Even under the best circumstances, speaking at your own wedding ceremony is a high pressure endeavor. What even constitutes a vow? I always picture them as exclamations you bellow at the sky.
'The Rap Year Book' is really great. Shea Serrano wrote it, and it became this huge phenomenon where he sold out everywhere and made the bestseller list just on the strength of his fans on Twitter wanting him to succeed.
I remember, when I was a kid, my dad would subscribe to the BMG Music Club, and we got that initial 12 CDs for a penny... I think it was cassettes. Eight CDs or 12 cassettes, something like that.
I broke my wrist at summer camp playing a game called 'volleybat,' which was baseball but with a volleyball. It is as dangerous as it sounds.