Posts Tagged ‘humor’

This is a my story of how I ended up in Facebook Jail. I didn’t realize how many people have similar stories, but this is mine.

Let’s start from the beginning….

I met Mr. Facebook years ago. I was a stunned by Mr. Facebook’s good looks. His dazzling blue eyes (get it? Facebook’s logo is blue)and his immense social media presence. I wanted to be a part of Mr. Facebook’s tribe so I timidly joined in.

Wanting to be in the Facebook family I hastily checked the, I Agree, button on the large contract that was thrust in my face. Admittedly, I didn’t read the fine details on Mr. Facebook’s firm rules of conduct. Even if I did I would have still signed on.

Mr. Facebook lured me in. Asking me about my day. Asking me what I was thinking. He encouraged me to share pictures of my loved ones, of my ups and downs, and allowed me to connect with people in his tribe so easily it was mind boggling.

Throughout our relationship I started to notice that Mr. Facebook had some dominant tendencies. There were times he would hide my pictures and my posts. He also was known to hide my friends posts from me as well. It started to get really fishy when Mr. Facebook asked me for money in order to show my posts to the people who would enjoy them the most.

Mr. Facebook isn’t alone in his reign of control. He employees ugly smelly trolls to search for things that Mr. Facebook would deem wrong in his pristine little community.

On Halloween I felt the full extent of Mr. Facebook’s wrath. I posted a picture of a weenie dressed as a ghost.

 

No longer was I in Mr. Facebook’s good graces. No longer did he want to know what was on my mind.I was summoned into Mr. Facebook’s lair to receive my sentence. His right hand man pulled me into the room and threw me on the floor scoffing at me in disgust. I’m not positive, but I think Mr. Facebook’s henchman’s name was the notorious Grammar Nazi.

Mr. Facebook came in wearing low slung jeans and no shirt (a la Christian Grey style) The troll that turned me in was lurking in the shadows to remain anonymous. Only their putrid smell was present.

“What should we do with her?” Grammar Nazi hissed kicking me with his steel-toed boot.

“It was just a joke. The weenie was covered. There are worse posts than that. Hell, look at the nasty political posts, and pictures of abused animals,” I cried wheezing on the floor.

“Silence,” Mr. Facebook roared. “Solitary confinement for four days.”

I opened my mouth to fight for my right to publish what I wanted to on my own account. To explain I was a grown woman that had grown out of time-out. Before anything could leave my mouth, Grammar Nazi stuffed a ball gag in it.

I was hefted up and dragged down a dark dank hall kicking and screaming. I heard Mr. Facebook and the troll cackling over my gurgled cries.

Grammar Nazi pulled me through a cement room where women of all shapes and sizes were pressed against the wall throwing him the evil eye. A single light bulb hung in the middle of the damp room. Before being thrown into a tiny room in the corner, Grammar Nazi wrapped my wrists in thick black tape behind my back. He forcefully pushed me into the little room and locked the door, telling me he would be back in four days.

Tears raced down my face, running around the ball gag. The salt coating my tongue.

“Psst, don’t cry doll,” a woman whispered to me.

Even though I was locked in a little room, I was still able to see the people surrounding me. My eyes locked on a woman with a sad smile trying to soothe me.

“We’re all in here because we did something to piss off Mr. Facebook. I’m Sydnee by the way.”

My eyes looked down at her trying to figure out what she did wrong. She must have been able to read my face, because you answered my silent question.

“I liked too many things. Mr. Facebook took away my ability to like anything for three days. I get my thumbs back tomorrow.”

My eyes widened in horror when I she raised her hands up so I could see them, and noticed her thumbs were taped to her hands.

“It’s not so bad. I could have been, Greta.” She pointed to a woman trapped behind a glass partition. Her hands were pressed against the glass as she stared longingly at the women in the room. “Greta,joined too many groups too fast for Mr. Facebook’s liking. She can’t join a group for seven days. Poor girl.”

The woman shook her head as she pointed at another lady leaning against the wall. “That’s Susan.”

The woman Sydnee was pointing at raised her hand in a wave. Half of her fingers were taped down at the knuckles, her thumbs visible.

“Susan posted too many posts for her book. Mr. Facebook took away her ability to post. She can still like things and comment on others posts.”

My mind spun as I looked around at the women stuck in the jail cell. There were so many all of them stifled in different ways, because they did something to anger Mr. Facebook.

Now as I sit here in Mr. Facebook’s jail. I watch other people post pictures and jokes and have no means of communicating with them.

Be CAUTIOUS of Mr. Facebook’s rules, or you can end up in jail.
AND

BEWARE OF THE TROLLS. THEY LURK ABOUT EVERYWHERE………

Ok, here is the link to my set at the Hollywood Improv.

I had so much fun, and I can’t wait to do it again. It sucks because I got some bad advice right before I left for the venue. My sister told me I needed to keep my hair down. I never ever ever leave my hair down. I told her I didn’t want to because I would fuck with it. She said it would be ok because then I wouldn’t be messing with the microphone. Well stupid me I left it down. I was nervous on stage but my hair playing made me look even more nervous than I was. The cardinal rule is to not do anything out of the norm when you are doing something new. Well I didn’t listen to myself.
I hope you enjoy the video. I can’t wait to do it again. I know with more practice I’ll be able to get my timing down.
The whole class was amazing by the way. I was so proud of them. Everyone of them brought their A game and I was excited to be in the same show as they were. Our teacher wrote us after the show, and complimented us even more.
This is a piece of the email he sent us.

“Great job on Sunday! How do I know it was a great job? Because the sound guy at the Improv said this was the best class show he’s ever seen and even better than some of the shows he’s seen booked at the Improv. This guy has been at the Improv for over a year and is also a stand up of 10 years and probably has seen more shows than you can imagine, so this is a helluva compliment!”

So here you go. If you enjoyed my performance I would appreciate you sharing the link.

Soooo….if you’ve been reading my blog, you know I have a weird desire to do comedy. In fact I did it once two years ago for my birthday. Here’s that link
Birthday Disaster
I have a friend (actually my first professional massage) that does a lot in the comedy world. He is hilarious (so is his adorable girlfriend that is an amazing photographer also. Jenny’s website)
While Derek Derek’s IMDB was being tortured by my elbows. We were talking about how he got into comedy. He told me about a class Tom Clark (Tom’s website) taught that he had taken. Long story short, he got a hold of Tom and coincidentally he had just started a class. I missed the first one, but I jumped right in.
This class was a big step for me. I battled my anxiety the whole time. Thankfully, not only was the teacher supportive the rest of the class was as well.
It was hard walking into the class because the rest of the students were on a whole other level than I was.
A lot of them have acting or comedy experience, podcasts, spots on a sports team, or just confidence up the ass Then there’s me. But I did it and not once ended up in the fetal position crying. (That pose is difficult with boobs)
Monday was my last class and it was bitter sweet. Everyone was so good, and I even got a couple of laughs.
So this Sunday my class and myself will be performing at the Hollywood Improv at 5pm. At the door it is $5 if you give the secret word (class) it is a two item minimum (food, drinks, handjobs) Someone from my class told me to tweet about it so I felt the blog would be a good way to get this out there.
Anyways….I have no friends so if anyone who wants to come and support me and laugh at the rest of my class I would love to see you there.

Yes…I went to The Comedy Store again. I absolutely love that place. I’m telling you one day I will be on that stage making people groan from my raunchy humor. It will happen.
We were supposed to go see Anthony Jeselnik, but JM bought the wrong tickets. So instead of going into the Main room at 8pm we were scheduled to go to the Original Room at 9pm.
JM was so upset that he ruined Valentine’s day. Seriously I was out of the house I didn’t care. With the extra time we decided to walk to Pink Dot to get something to drink. Now I had been fighting a migraine so before we left I took a migraine pill. (this will mean something later in this story) I’m not a big drinker. Honestly, I have a couple drinks show my boobs and pass out, but I wanted to have fun so I decided to let loose and hopefully the girls would stay put.
I bought a little bottle of vodka and poured it into my diet Pepsi. We went back to the Comedy Store and people watched while I sipped on my drink. JM left me to go pee so I did what anyone would do I made friends with the bouncer. I was asking him what I needed to do to sign up for open mic. We talked about what I needed to do, and we are now Facebook friends. Yay me.
JM came back and soon my drink was empty, and my bladder was full. When I came out of the bathroom Anthony Jeselnik was standing right in front of me. I debated for a second or two if I should fangirl decided against it and went back to JM. By coincidence he followed me to the front of the building.
I walked up to JM and told him that Anthony Jeselnik was behind me. JM looks over my shoulder and looks at me saying, “he is looking at you. What did you say?” It makes me sad how hard I had to convince him I was good and didn’t say a thing.
So Anthony made his round probably looking at the sold out line and went back behind the building.
Flashfoward it is now close to 1 in the morning. I have dutifully finished my two drink minimum. Now my bladder is full again. I stood up and realized I was buzzed. I didn’t take in the fact that I had taken a migraine pill earlier that day. I was standing in line doing the pee-pee dance when one of the waitresses told me I could use the Main Room bathroom. I was so afraid I was going to get lost, but I made it safe and sound.
While I was walking to a stall I saw someone out of the corner of my eye. I started to tell them “I’m sorry” for cutting them off and came face to face with my reflection.
Yes..I was talking to a mirror. That was when I realized I was more tipsy than I thought. I don’t know about men but when you have been drinking more than you usually do women will actually get board while peeing. While I was sitting down laughing at how stupid I am another woman walked in yelling that she had just got kicked out of the men’s bathroom. She was pissed (pun intended) because she was just going to pee in the urinal. This made me feel better because I may have been talk to your reflection in the mirror drunk but I wasn’t pee in a urinal drunk.
The rest of the night went by with tons of laughs. One comic dubbed me Big Tits McGee.
I just realized most of this post was bathroom related. Sorry about that.
I hope you all had a fabulous Valentine’s day.

As most of you know I live in Southern California. The land of golden sunshine. This may be hard for you to believe…but sometimes it gets cold. (I swear I could actually hear the collective sigh of disgust from anyone living east of me)
For Christmas I received a heated throw blanket. I loved it. It kept me warm and cozy at night while I edited Surviving Faith. It was the blanket form of a shot of Jager.
Then it happened I reached over my bed to press the button of heat, (yeah that could go another way) and the light didn’t go on. I refused to think my heated friend had left me so I went through the house trying different outlets. I finally admitted defeat, but refused to go quietly into the night. So like anyone who wants to vent their personal business, I tweeted my experience.
I cannot tell you my surprise when Therapedic tweeted me back telling me to email them. Honestly I didn’t think they would be able to do anything because I didn’t have the receipt since it was a Christmas gift. Because I didn’t think they would be able to do anything I sent them the weirdest email just so I would have something to feel better about myself.
This is what I sent them…
I tweeted that the heated throw I received for Christmas, died yesterday, February 3. Surprisingly, I received a tweet back to send an email to this address.
Unfortunately, I do not have the receipt because it was a gift. So I’m not sure if you can do anything. I will commend you for your customer service. Good Job.
I loved my blanket all the way until it’s death. I’m wearing black today for my mourning period.
I used it at night when I was editing my fourth novel. Yesterday the lights wouldn’t turn on. I tried it with many different outlets. Because I honestly didn’t want to admit my blanket had departed to the heated bed in the sky.
I’ve been very careful not to bend the wires and at no point was it wadded up in a ball. (When editing ones mind does drift, and I’m not afraid to admit I’ve procrastinated many times by reading the warning tag)
I tried to be treat my blanket with the up most respect as I have a tendency to have very bad luck with Christmas presents. If it’s broke it was mine. Anyways that is my sad tale of my deceased blanket.
Thank you for listening.
Joy Eileen

Imagine my surprise when Susan from Therapedic wrote me back almost immediately. We ended up talking on the phone. By the Way Susan has a bad ass east coast accent, and I think one of my next characters needs to emulate it. I felt like I had made a friend from the back and forth emails, and she was awesome.
Susan was amazing. She not only sent me a replacement blanket I also received another pocket blanket and a pair of slippers that won’t be on the market until March.
Therapedic went above and beyond what I had expected. I’m actually sitting her under my new blanket while I type this. I have worked customer service for many years before I started massage therapy and I understand how hard it is to hear people complain all day.
I love my new blankets and I haven’t taken my slippers off since I opened them.
There are good companies out there. Companies who hire people who have bad ass accents that are willing to help.
Thank you Therapedic….

One of my favorite posts was stories that happened while I was in my massage room. I haven’t posted Tales from the Table is awhile. I’m sure most of you have figured out by now that I have a talent for sticking my foot in my mouth. In fact i do it so often I have contemplated on many occasions if i should stick my feet in chocolate before leaving the house.

I have had two encounters lately where I wished my little tootsies were bathed in chocolate because I shoved them down my throat without any foreplay.

#1 Fruitcake oops

Normally when I walk into the room while I am adjusting the sheet and making sure everything is ready for the massage I will ask the patient if there is anything new I need to know about. This is the time they will tell me about any aches or pains they would like me to work on. Sometimes I will get some inappropriate responses. This was not one of those times.
I was massaging a patient who I have been seeing for many years now. The first time I massaged him I thought he was gay. I was super excited because I figured we would become the best of friends, and he maybe he would give me some fashion advice. Sadly he wasn’t gay but just a really amazing dresser. He is actually married with five kids. (Someday my gay prince will come and rescue me from Batman t-shirts and jeans)
Usually he will tell me everything hurts and to just fix him before going quiet. It sucks so much when a patient is quiet. I usually use the time to fix plot holes in my books. This particular time (right after Christmas) he told me that he ate way too much fruitcake. So much fruitcake he felt his muscles were full of the dessert.
Anyways… at the end of the massage as I was walking out of the room I turned to him and said, “I think I got all the fruitcake out of you.”
Our eyes locked in shock and I slithered away to wash the lotion and fruitcake embarrassment off my forearms.

#2 Starbucks and handjobs

If you have seen the movie Idiocracy the title will be hilarious. If you haven’t seen it I highly recommend it. I will warn you and say it is terrifying because it is something that could happen very easily.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0387808/?ref_=nv_sr_1

Anyways… I was once again in my dark little room with a naked man face down. This patient is also a long time patient of mine. He is a tad bit of a perv but I love him anyway. I try not to say things that he can use against me. I’m going to claim tiredness and allergies to the slip I made a couple of weeks ago.
When I walked in he was in position face down ready for my hands to do their magic, but I had yet to touch him.
Patient…I already feel the tension going away.
Me…(Smartass remark ready for fire) Well then you lay here for an hour and I’m going to go get a Starbucks.
Patient…No wait I still need you.
I start the massage and the conversations stops for a minute or two.
Patient…would it be better if I brought you a Starbucks?
Me.. No because then I would want to drink it and I would end up massaging you with one hand (As soon as the words left my mouth I wanted to grab them back. I had just given him ammunition and the massage was only five minutes in)
Patient… Well I don’t see a problem with that. Hell I will bring you three so you can massage me with one hand for the full hour.
Me…I don’t think you would be able to last the full hour. Just bring me a tall.

We both ended up bursting into laughter, because hell sometimes things are too funny not to laugh.

If you need some more cringe worthy moments please feel free to click the link below to read some of my other Tales from the Table.

https://itsjoysworld.net/2014/06/23/tales-for-the-table/