Ask a Stand-Up Comedian
Have you always wanted to know the secrets to life? To a happy relationship? How to drive the big rigs and experience the fulfilling career you've always wanted?
No one affiliated with this Web site knows any of those things, but if you send in your questions, we'll be glad to answer them in a completely useless and at times cosmically insulting way. WARNING: These columns get raunchy sometimes. Read at your own risk.
Will you father my children?
--DC
Chris White: Certainly. There are certain laws about pouring hot tar on minors, but with the proper amount of discretion and discipline, I am completely confident that we can feather your children in secrecy.
...
...
Ha! I kid. I am of course fully literate and did not misread the word "father." That literacy, and sense of humor, as well as a vestigial tail, will all be bestowed upon our little darlings. But that's not all they're getting. They're getting a dad who will teach them through bad example.
Because as we know, children, more than anything, dread turning out like their parents. From the moment our first blessed seed begins to germinate, I will dedicate myself to becoming the man they never want to be, starting by promptly joining a circus or gang of hobos. You won't hear from me for three years, except maybe the occasional telegram requesting cash, or wondering if our child has a compatible blood type.
I'll return briefly, to give our young daughter (Is Zooey a good name? If not, I also like Chanelle) a dilapidated stuffed animal (maybe a World's Fair or Olympic mascot?) for her birthday, which will have been months ago. I will sleep on your couch for a week, often bringing women home with me, only to take advantage of your vulnerability and jealousy at the end of that week by impregnating you, maybe on a pile of laundry that you never have time to clean. I will then go to "pick up Zooey (Chanelle) at day care" and disappear for a few more years.
Once little Otis is out of diapers, I will reappear, riding in the sidecar on a female impersonator's motorcycle. Filled with evangelistic verve, weighing in excess of 350 pounds, and now with a cajun accent, I will once again take up residence on your couch, denounce you as a painted harlot, and insist that I am guiding the children on the path to righteousness. Forced Bible study? You bet. A tax-evading street ministry? Count on it. Strange bearded followers smelling vaguely of raw meat drifting in and out of the kids' bedrooms at three in the morning? My bad example to the children deserves nothing less.
And I have big plans for their teen years, including my heroin addiction, several bouts with VD, 3 arrests on DWI charges, and interrupting my mother's third marriage ceremony with a drunken tirade against Communists.
I also plan on wearing turtlenecks.
Inspired to not be me, little Zooey can surely become our first female president. And she could name Otis the Secretary of State, were he not starting 3rd baseman for the Philadelphia Phillies.
So yes, I will father your children, the same way my dad fathered me. You may have seen him on "Dateline," actually. He'll be so happy to be a grandad!
Please e-mail me your home address so we can begin as soon as possible.