Wednesday Every Wednesday # 12

Ladies and gentlemen, this is NOT a test. Comedy So Serious! has taken over your net-waves… DO NOT attempt to adjust your dials.

Do you even understand that now antiquated reference to a bygone technology?

Well, DO NOT attempt to open a new tab because…

IT’S WEDNESDAY

Um… internet takeover?

I, your humble and recently abandoned editor, have been left alone at the helm of my own ship run aground. I am broadcasting to you from a remote island of cyber-solitude, screaming a message of questionable importance into the digital ocean-spray.

EVERYTHING IS NORMAL, FINE, NOT WORRISOME AT ALL

You need not doubt your senses as they survey the landscape. This is, indeed, a strange and troubling dystopian ecosystem. Rather than work in tandem, gaining momentum and accomplishing our aims, we are beset with predatory advances.

Office life…

The odds seem insurmountable, and if it were merely up to us alone we would surely succumb to the overwhelming negativity strewn in our paths.

Ouch, Sheep… but valid.

Editorial: It’s A Jungle… ‘IN’ Here

It’s been a while since our last post. My sincerest apologies to you, the reader. I have to admit, our troubles started when I made a claim that our writing staff’s jobs were “so easy, even monkeys could do them.” Outraged and offended, the entire staff of Comedy So Serious! staged a walkout. Needless to say, productivity has hit an all-time low.

I keep telling him to give it a second to load, but…

Yes, times have been tough for your modest moderator of internet inanity. With a staff comprised mainly of ill-tempered Baboons–and one Gibbon–I’ve spent most of my days hiding under my desk, tossing binders into the office across from me to misdirect the pack of savage simians. And although I’ve had numerous ideas for titillating editorials, the sound of typing on my keyboard incites murderous rage from the eldest Baboon. Fortune smiled upon me, however, in the form of a phone call!

Different phone call…

I picked up the receiver as fast as I could so as not to alert the monkeys and whispered, “Sal’s Pizzeria & Crematorium: We bake for your wake…” As I listened to the chilling, crackled voice on the other end of the line, it became apparent who had called me…

My Publisher

DEADLINES!!!

My publisher failed to see the heroism of cracking jokes at a time like that–monkeying around while the monkeys are around, if you will… YES! Still got it!–and instead offered some constructive criticism regarding the site, most of which I completely agree with.

I can totally see where you’re coming from…

And after several long pauses and awkward interruptions, my publisher offhandedly mentioned that local animal-control had received reports about monkeys in the area. She informed me to avoid the office; I informed her that I voided my bowels in the office, and we hung up mutually reassured, I’m sure.

Editorial: Notes From The Undernet

Time has a way of sneaking by. The routines of necessity have a way of sinking in. And we, the unwitting recipients of this modern era, have a way of slacking off. But there is a limit to how settled into the sameness of our circumstances we can become.

Eventually, every cog has his day.

Pictured: Eternity

But when the going gets tough, do as the Romans, I always say. There comes a time when we’ve got to take the gloves off–along with the scarf, hat, and intergalactic space-shades–and show them all who we really are!

Beautiful… no matter what they say.

Each of us is replete with a wealth of accumulated knowledge and experience, having traveled the world via Google Earth like an obese, tech-savvy internet-tabby.

It’s a real thing.

And, along our journey, we find that all the secrets of the cosmos are within hand’s reach.

“To see the whole world in a grain of fingernail dirt”

Reaffirming my philosophy of intense, rigorous, and relentless snuggling.

Master of The Universe

And while my aforementioned philosophical disposition might be a contributing factor in our blog’s decreased activity, we feel that our audience is satisfied.

Hmmm…

We simply couldn’t live with ourselves if we didn’t deliver the most informative, relevant, and pressing information to our readers…

Monday Miasma # 18

As the sun rises, all eye are on you. The weekend departs as quickly as it arrives–and as mysteriously–leaving us with the shattered fragments of wishes unfulfilled.

“Eye need you to come in to work.”

And as gratifying as it may be to unleash the pent-up animal-rage that’s been percolating inside of us on an unsuspecting inanimate object, say an alarm clock, we simply can’t afford to keep buying alarm clocks on our current salary.

Kill, Bill

And so begins again the Great Paper Chase. A lifelong, elliptical, and distracting pursuit of necessity, otherwise known as modern life.

NEED IT, GOTTA HAVE IT!

Editorial: It’s A Jungle Out Here

The world can be a very, very strange place.

EVERY. DAMN. DAY.

In this mixed up skirmish for survival, men have been driven to great lengths… And, depending on the car’s mileage, some have even made it to Bat Country, NV.

An alert driver is a safe driver…

It takes a lot of courage and a strong will (Shatner) to resist the numbness of deep space, whilst traveling aboard this doomed starship.

“Stop almost hittin’ yourself. Stop almost hittin’ yourself!”

And when you least expect it, a stranger wearing a fashionable sky-cap–perhaps a Fedora, or a Trilby… or maybe a Pork Pie!–shows up and condescendingly waves his hands in front of your face, saying

Monday Miasma # 17

Without even a glance toward the calendar, I know what day it is. I can tell by the mild, dull sense of dread that is percolating in the Mr. Coffee of my soul, brewing a bitter and muddy cup of truth:

It’s Monday

We’re into the second full week of January and some of us are still hungover from the New Year’s celebration we don’t remember being at.

And fugue-state times were had by all…

The spring loaded enthusiasm for a new year of possibility has released, and the collective re-cranking has begun. Resolutions struggle to retain their meaning, gym attendance is already slipping, dieting caveats have been introduced…

The streets run red with lolz.

And it is here that we find ourselves: at the crossroads of yet another year, another workweek, wherein the pursuit of self-aggrandizement is feverishly sought while at the same time furiously withheld.

Unless you live below this little rascal…

Editorial: Polar Vortex Ridiculed Early, Freezes Everyone’s Face Shut

Without warning, with nary a moment’s notice, it was too late.

We. Woke. Up. Cold.

In 3 degree weather, no one can hear your freeze…

Science has termed this frigid phenomena the Polar Vortex, which I’m assuming means that a wormhole to deep space has opened in the North Pole, sucking all the oxygen and heat off of Earth.

Would you like a hot cocoa?

Clips from Jake Gyllenhaal’s troubling nature documentary, “The Day After Tomorrow,” reveal that we’ve known of this phenomena for quite some time.

The calm eye of the wormhole.

All across the interwebs, reports are coming in about record lows, cassette tape numbers, and 8-track temps. The question everyone’s asking: “Is climate change?”

Well… IS?

Monday Miasma # 16

Ah, the first Monday of the New Year. It feels–if you’ll allow it–so much like the Mondays of yesteryear…

New Year’s Resolution: Learn hands.

No matter how many cups of coffee are imbibed, or extra hours spent sobbing in the shower, the dim demands of a new workweek have extended their reach to us. We must traverse the corridor of capitalism once more.

“Nope… back to the shower.”

Our reflexes are slow, our minds sluggish, and our expressions are frozen “Oh Noez!” of torpid terror.

“Oh, yez!”

The Merry-Go-Round of this modern life is punctuated with Monday’s bog of banality. But, with a little creepy and threatening encouragement we can surmount anything…

“Good talk…”

A touch of positive reinforcement never hurt either, so here’s a wizened little dog mixing a martini for you. Should be ready about the time you get back home.

Go to your Happy Place.

Gifs via: here, here, here, here, and here. 

Monday Miasma # 15

Hark! I hear an angel sing! Wait… Nope. Not an angel. That was the “Harp” alarm setting on my phone. That’s right…

It’s Monday.

Time for my morning commute… into oblivion.

On this last Monday of 2013, we reluctantly arise, donning the bifocals of the bizarre and peering past the mundane into a familiar world populated by strangers.

“We’re ready for launch, Commander.”

Though the slight to our dignity and self worth is relatively meager, the cumulative effect of a lifetime of Monday mornings can be deadly. This is why we invite you to join us in the transmutation of tedium, where memes really do come true.

There’s a party in my nightmare and errybody’s invited!

So refresh your cup of coffee and plunge wholeheartedly into it, finding solace in its caffeinated inner-cosmos.

Do you take the red pill, or the sugar cubes?

Together, along with the intercession of the internets, we can transform this raw, bitter brew of toilsome tonic into something altogether ambrosial. Or… some approximation thereof.

Close enough!

Here’s to the swift passage of Monday!

Gifs via: here, here, here, and here. 

Merry Christmas from Comedy So Serious!

Happy holidays from all of us at Comedy So Serious!

“They’ll never suspect a thing…”

The Christmas season is a time for family, giving, and love, which is why we’ve been drinking mimosas since 7am this morning. We wanted to thank you, the reader, for your continued interest in our modest operation.

What happens at the North Pole, stays at the North Pole.

As tradition dictates, Santa has emerged from his arctic clam to bestow gifts on the masses. Hopefully you’ve received your heart’s desires. If not…

Futilely, Santa claws…

Just a suggestion.

Have a lovely Christmas day, and a happy, healthy New Year!

Images via: here, here, and here.