Currently, my housemate and fellow comedian Josh Orr is serving as a camp counselor at a Quaker camp in the Appalachian wilderness. He wrote me a very sweet letter which I have reproduced below as well as the reply I sent him shortly after receiving it. Enjoy.
Dear ______* Family,
I have the flavor of iodized water in my mouth, and I just wiped my ass with a smooth stick. Then I sanitized my hands. I am camping on the Appalachian trail. All is lovely.
It may vindicate and still irk Miles to know that I have been happily singing songs about god for three weeks. I am still an atheist, and we’ve been singing non-god songs too, but as you know, that thing they sing to when they sing about god, it does appeal to me.
Seems like some of my eleven campers believe in god, but we don’t really talk about it. Most of them are just here for the teen adventure. Many of them seem somewhat interested in becoming shamans, since my co-leader and I introduced them to our shared set of spirit animal tarot medicine cards. So our campers think we’re fruitcakes, and they’re right.
One camper was assigned to my group because the camp director has felt for years that this young man should be a stand up comedian. He has been picking my brain about it, which is is fun.
Teenagers are often too self-absorbed and also too awestruck by older folks, so they don’t ask us any questions. But slowly the comfort level is rising, the teeter totter power dynamic becomes closer to the ground. Everyone has begun making fun of the fact that I’ve worn the same t-shirt for 8 days, and I welcome them to do so.
Here’s a joke I heard on the river, during a canoe trip in which we impaired four canoes and split one down the middle:
What do you call a skeleton in the closet?
Last year’s hide-and-seek champion!
A camper told me I look like the sort of guy who has an organic garden. I told her she was right. Now and again I wonder how big the tomato plants are and I wonder how hot the house is getting and I wonder what shenanigans are cooking on our couch in our nacho-colored living room and I think about how nice it will be to sit around some afternoon on the porch and do nothing but talk shit with you. I miss it all and our street , and reggae music at the flea market. But for now I’m still thrilled to have my food on my back or, more accurately, on the backs backs of the eleven little wood nymphs I boss around.
Love,
Josh
*Name of our house derived from street we live on
And then here is my reply:
Josh,
I am glad to hear that you are neither sick nor injured and furthermore that you are able to derive so much satisfaction from so little. It is not surprising to hear you are enjoying the light religious propaganda offered at your camp. Your fetish for christian faith can only be likened to the rape fantasies of an avowed feminist.
I myself have been enjoying bicycle rides across Berkeley in order to attend my yoga workouts. My instructors regularly remind me that it is yoga practice and not yoga perfect, but I’ll show them ; (. In the evenings I perform stand up comedy in front of full grown adults. Then I go to sleep in my bed covered in soft sheets where I am free to masturbate as I please.
I imagine it is tough to relate with those awkward, self involved youngsters. “No more Terrence, from now on it’s TJ” thinks a young man to himself as you dangle a limp, broken tarot card in front of his flickering human headlights. But I know that you will win them over much like the hero in one of your beloved films about an educator who takes a risk when he or she starts to care about kids that everyone else has given up on, except with your campers there is an army of people engineering their success.
It isn’t difficult to picture you leading these children into catastrophe like a wilderness Willy Wonka. Each of them suffering a unique and horrendous fate at the hands of parasites, poisonous flora, and dangerous animals while you lead the remaining campers in an impromptu ditty summarizing the fate of the kid who was just raped by a male deer. At least by the end of the tour each surviving member of your group will have a horrific souvenir in the form of scar tissue, a missing finger, or the inability to see out of one eye, then won’t someone have a good story come first day of school?
Hope all is well.
Love,
Miles
Elite universities encourage diversity, just not diversity across GPA or standardized test scores.
The other day I saw a sign that said, “Hate Free Zone”.
“Not anymore!” I screamed.
Adolescent returning from summer camp enjoys long awaited ejaculation
Softwood floor concept met with lackluster response
Villagers becoming restless
Whenever I attempt to take on a new attitude and personality my old personality calls me a pathetic little bitch.
There’s a fine line between house sitting and breaking into someone’s home while they’re on vacation and eating all their food.
If anyone knew chapstick it was my friend Mike Hamil. That’s because Mike made artisanal chapstick on his secluded bee ranch up in the Sierra Mountains. He claimed that bees at higher elevations produced a subtler, breezier wax. For my birthday, he once gave me a large wax sculpture of a woman’s face which I could kiss, thereby dechaping my lips. But Mike was troubled by loneliness.
“The honey from my bees is simply not enough,” he would write to me in letters, and I felt for him but also hoped that he was not doing anything weird to the honey as he had given me a large jar of it for Christmas. So he set himself to finding a Mrs. Hamil. At first his strategy involved approaching lone female hikers up in the Sierra’s where he would nervously blurt out, “A NICE DAY FOR HIKING. A BETTER DAY FOR BEES.” And then would perform a trick where bees would come flying out of his sleeves, Mike having read that girls are impressed by magic. Needless to say this scared off more than a couple of women and accidentally sent one into anaphylactic shock whom Mike then chivalrously carried to a nearby ranger’s station.
After the ensuing legal troubles in which Mike was labeled “The Bee Mountain Maniac” he had even more trouble finding a girl. He tried everything, even dating online but found that very few women were interested in his cute e-mail signatures such as “bee mine” or “let’s get buzzed” or “you’ve stung me and now my heart is swollen with bee venom.” Eventually, he went crazy and filled the corpse of a grizzly bear with honey.
The other day I turned a fly into a “crawl”‘ and then I turned it into a “doesn’t go anywhere at all because it’s legs and wings have all been ripped off.”
I saw a magazine titled “Life & Style”. That’s like a magazine called “House & Boat.”
They call it “risk management” because that’s a less obvious contradiction than “random chance control.”
“The Taming of the Shrew” was originally titled “The Murdering of the Shrew.”
The Giant Panda is named ironically as it stands at only two and a half feet.
No one ever escapes Fantasy Island.
Once they reach a certain age strippers are taken out back and turned into flight attendants.
Most road trips end at the same time as the friendship in question.
Google would like a sample of your DNA.
Cooked food was discovered accidentally by cavemen looking for a more amusing to slaughter an animal.
Austin, Texas is most well known for being in the wrong state.
Due to rising population and obesity, human beings will eventually cover the entire surface of the earth at which point they will fuse together and form the fleshy topsoil layer which was the earth’s master plan all along.
Chairs are a domesticated species of rock.
When aliens perform an archeological survey of the internet they will spend most of that time sifting through porn.
They tell us to be happy with what we have. But that means I’d be even happier if I had even more of it.
I just found out my beard has cancer which means the rest of me is going to fall off.
The other day I saw a street performer but he was just sitting there, not playing any music. I went up, put a dollar in his guitar case and said, “keep up the good work.”
Michael Jackson was the Howard Hughes of our generation, an eccentric millionaire whose success left him in isolation.
Apple has done it again. Reviews from technology critics and consumers alike confirm the superiority of the iPhone 4 to all earlier iPhones. In every way the product has either improved or not gotten worse. In doing so, Apple has yet again succeeded in providing a product which can be respectfully presented to consumers. “Our new iPhone has many features that previous versions did not and never will so only those who buy the iPhone 4 will be able to experience these amazing new features,” said lead developer Alex Kilmartin.
Many people, who were impressed and astounded by the iPhone 3, now feel stupid and foolish as they are faced with the incontrovertible fact that it is inferior, “I thought the iPhone 3 was an amazing technical marvel when it came out. If I had only known the wonders of the iPhone 4 I would never have been taken in by its the homely charms.” Others thought they had learned their lesson after iPhone 2 but found themselves yet again delighted by the the wondrous new machine. “By giving consumers an affordable device that uses technology not widespread enough to have been tarnished by overexposure we have created the impression of an object originating from our own future,” claims Apple marketing guru Derrick Gleason.
However some critics have been eager to point out that no matter how great the iPod 4 may seem now it is sure to pale in comparison to the iPod 5.
Mark Grattler of Bend, Oregon has been confirmed as the heaviest male technically considered alive. At 1,342 pounds Grattler fills the king size bed, to which he has been confined for the last four years, like a breathing corpse. Less a man than a machine for converting food into excrement, Grattler hopes to someday be free of his own flesh.
Due to the many folds and stale pockets of flesh throughout his body, Mark suffers from a variety of skin disorders which leave him in condition of semi-decay and cause an oppressive odor to fill the room if he is not cleaned regularly like a human fish tank. Since he has not moved from his bed in so long Grattler can see the contours of his ceiling in perfect detail even with his eyes closed. While he would very much like to visit the outside world Mark is so massive it would be necessary to cut a hole in his house in order to extract him from the premises.
“I’m thinking of trying the Zone diet. I heard that worked for Manuel Uribe,” said the enormous chunk of humanity.
All in attendance concur that this year’s Wimbeldon was an honorable effort on the part of both players.
No one admits to being a hipster for the same reason no refers to himself as a douche bag.
“I like you, but as a friend”
“A friend with benefits?”
“Um probably not.”
“Well how about just the benefits?”
Friendship is a strange thing. As I see it, life’s a competition to obtain the most prizes which means that anyone else should be thwarted at every available opportunity. But apparently friends are a necessity, since otherwise we would never be invited to dinner parties, or cocktail parties or have anyone to testify on our behalf as a character witness. So the other day I was standing in the middle of Macy’s department store with my very best friend Matthew when he said, “Boy all these shirts and I can’t find a single one I’d want to buy.” I turned to him quite in disgust and said, “It’s not about wanting to buy them for yourself but making sure that nobody else has them!” (I myself wear four shirts at a time, just to let everyone know that I’d rather die of heat stroke rather then let someone else get their grimy claws on my clothing) so after berating Matthew I threw up my arms and sighed in annoyance for roughly a minute and a half.
(Continued)
