I am just on my way to the first day of a three week tour of comedy clubs across Iowa, Nebraska, and South Dakota. I pull into a gas station just off I 35 South near Burnsville. After fuelng the van, I go into the store, grab a couple of Krispy Kreme Donuts and a pint of whole milk, and make my way to the register.
Ahead of me is Mr. Burnsville Suit, paying for his gas while yammering on his cell phone. He finishes his transaction, turns and sees me, looks down at my goodies and says: "Nice Breakfast . Oh! And WHOLE milk, too!"
Nailed by the People's Republic of Minnesota food Nazi!
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I stop in regularly at Dr. Wolter's chiropractic office in Eau Claire. Dr. Tim is a long time friend/fishing buddy of mine. Today he has a guest in the adjustment room with him. I recognize him as a fellow graduate from Tim's chiropractic school down in Iowa, a man I have met before.
That day nor today can I recall his name -- I think it's Chuck.
We shake hands and remind each other that we have already met. He looks me over and says: "Man! you've gained a lot of weight since last time I saw you."
And I reply: "Yes, and you've lost a lot of hair, but I wasn't going to say anything about that."
Dr. Tim says: "Wow! He got you on that!"
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I am having one of those nights when I am really in the groove. the timing is perfect and everyone is really having a good time, giving back just as much as they are getting.
During my standard introduction to The Vasectomy Song ( an explanation of why I quit teaching junior high), a black gentleman who is sitting right down front, takes the opporunity during one of my pauses to ask loudly: "Wanna see my scars?"
"What? And spoil the Black myth?"
He laughs harder than anyone else in the room.
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I get a call from a young comedian that I have worked with once a long time ago, asking if I want to come down and do the Madison Comedy Cooperative (whatever the hell that is) and I take it, no questions asked.
The first night, I am billed second, behind a female comic who is short and chunky in stature, and sharp tongued and fairly foul, even by my standards.
The audience, mostly male, takes an immediate dislike to her and makes her fifteen minute slot a contest of will. She comes off stage and walks back to me and I can see that she is steaming. She says a few choice words about the audience, excuses herself and goes to the bar for a G and T.
When she returns, she faces the stage where the MC is feebly attempting to retain attention. Then there's this guy who shufles in front of me, blocks my view of the stage, and I see him do a reach around. He reaches around and squeezes her tit.
Furious, she turns, and instantly, as things go into slow motion, I know what's going to happen but I cannot react quickly enough. She flings the drink in his face but he ducks and it hits me chest high and chin low, the lime and ice cubes cascading to the floor.
The MC says: "Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for Larry Heagle!"
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