Zachary Sims Makes Comedy
-
My Prison Diary
On September 3, 2010 I was arrested for going 65 in a 55. And having an expired license. And calling one of the cops a “world class dingus.” Due to the upcoming Labor Day holiday I was forced to spend the weekend in the towns local lock-up. (The guards referred to it as “The Pussy Palace” and not in the 70’s porn way.) What follows are excerpts from my diary of that weekend.
September 3, 2010
1 PM
First day in the big house today. I’m not gonna lie to ya, I don’t really know what all the complaining’s about. I mean, I’ve only been here a few hours and I’ve already got a sweet new outfit (Move over H & M – there’s a new king in town!) and a whole bed all to myself! I’ve never been to a summer camp due to my allergic reaction to pork n’ beans, but it can’t be much better than this! I haven’t gotten a chance to meet any of the fellas yet, but I’m really looking forward to it. They can’t call them inmates for nothin’! That’s a line I’m thinking about using as an icebreaker on the yard. I think it’s gonna be a hit!
There was one little hiccup in today’s proceedings. Apparently it’s very important that prison guards check you for something called “contraband.” I don’t know what that is, but I guess it’s under your ball sack. I didn’t have what they were looking for but needless to say they found my secret stash of Rollos. Nuts!
10 PM
I’m starting to see what all the prison negativity is about. First off, the bathroom situation is completely unacceptable. Has no one here heard of poop privacy? Luckily my all-gouda diet has kept me from having to worry about things on the BM front. I’ve tried to make some jokes to break the awkwardness (“Don’t worry fellas, I’m a grower not a shower!”) but nobody seems to be in the mood to laugh. Except for this one guy who laughs all the time while rubbing his hands and staring at me, but that’s way more disconcerting than comforting. I should talk to him about that; sometimes people do things and don’t realize how unsettling they are. Like how I bite my toenails at parties. (I still think that’s a great way to “peacock” but I guess that’s neither hither nor thither.) And don’t even get me started on this whole shower situation! I haven’t been this uncomfortable since last Christmas when my cousin told me what scissoring was. They won’t even let me wear a bathing suit like I did in the gym showers or when I lost my virginity. What is this, a prison or something? (Laid that gem on the Crips today…I don’t think they got it.) One nice thing about the showers is it seems like it’s a great time for team building. I keep seeing guys getting together in these big circles jumping around and grunting. I don’t know what’s going on but there seems to be a lot of screaming for the Lord. Who knew prison could be such a spiritual experience!
September 4, 2010
5 PM
Finally found a gang! I thought I was gonna get stuck with the lame old White Power guys, but I really didn’t want to have to shave my head. I gotta keep these golden locks for the ladies! Anyway, I found a really rad group of guys. They’re called MS 13, “The World’s Most Dangerous Gang.” I don’t really get what makes them so dangerous; they seem as soft as a big ol’ pile of TP to me. Tonight’s supposed to be my initiation. I just hope I don’t have to eat anything gross like a jism-covered cracker or lima beans. I hate lima beans.
September 5, 2010
12 AM
Just finished my initiation. Good news, I didn’t have to felate or eat anything gross: I just got the shit kicked out of me! All in all I consider that a real win. Bruises go away but the taste of rice pudding lingers forever. I’ve never had friends before and I could feel us growing closer with each kick to my sternum/groin area. They’ve even got a kick-ass new nickname for me, “El Pollo Blanco.” I never learned Spanish (I was always more of a French man: Ma grand-mère est un morceau de sucre!) but I’m pretty sure it means I’m their new BFF!
I wish I had more to report but after my “baptism by boot” I’m forced to spend my time in the old prison hospital. And I thought having my own jumpsuit was awesome! I get a whole new bed and all the painkillers I can shove up my rectum! (I don’t know why all these prison folks are so obsessed with rectums. I guess I’ll have to ask Dr. Freud about that! LOL LOL LOL!!!) There’s even a TV in here that plays nothing but Blossom re-runs! “WHAT!?”[1]
September 6, 2010
1 PM
Got out of the hospital today - just in time to soak in my last day of prison/summer vacay. I’ve gotta say I’m really gonna miss this place. I just wish my new besties over at MS 13 would be a bit friendlier. Whenever I try to get them in for a kickball game they pull out a shiv and mime slashing my throat. I guess they must be big fans of pro wrestling superstar The Undertaker. I’d love to talk to them about it but the concussions has limited my vocabulary to the words “oongowa” and “chupacabra.” Maybe I can turn this mental defect into something marketable like that Rain Man gentleman or Howie Mandel.
8 PM
Got let out of prison a whole day early thanks to my gang buddies. What did they do to help out you ask? They shived me! Much like God, “The World’s Most Dangerous Gang” works in mysterious ways. Now I get to ride out to freedom in the style that only a prison Ambulance can provide. Did you know that they spell Ambulance backwards so people can read what’s behind them in their rearview mirror? Guess what: it doesn’t work! I’m sure losing a lot of blood. I think I could use a nap. I haven’t been this pooped since the time I went to Toys R’ Us and KB Toys in the same afternoon! Man, isn’t life CRAZY!
[1] I’ve since learned that the correct catchphrase referenced is “WHOA!” My apologies to the reader. Once again I was on an incredible amount of pain killers at the time.
-
My Summer in a Cult
Last summer I made my annual trek off to my favorite event of the season: the biggest fan convention of the year for Bob Uecker, play-by-play announcer for your Milwauke Brewers and the announcer in the best movie made since Singin’ in the Rain, Major League. The trip took a hard turn when I arrived not at the convention, but at a religious cult commune. Shockingly, it didn’t seem all that different from conventions past. At first. The following is excerpts from my personal diary, recapping the events.
June 8, 2011
Got to the Bob Uecker convention today, and boy does it look like it’s gonna be the best! I’ve been to a lot of Ueck-fests in my time but this has all the makings to be the Ueckeriest of them all. Everybody else here seems super nice. They’re all smiling and wearing all sorts of sweet tunics and pants made out of burlap and yarn. When I ask them about it they say that once you’ve seen the light you realize that denim is just a prison keeping your bottom-soul from reaching the ultimate of freedoms. I don’t know what that has to do with Bob Uecker but holy fuck does it sound neat. I even met a real swell girl-lady. I know! Who am I, Don Juan or a more current lothario reference? Raef Fiennes, perhaps? He seems like he gets a lot of trim. Anyhoo, her names Esmerelda 18 (apparently all the girls here are named Esmerelda. What a coinky-dink!) and she’s super cool. She even agrees with me that the first couple seasons of Scrubs is funnier than people think! Holy gee, this is gonna be great!
June 16, 2011
Things have been pretty swell here at Ueckfest 11, but I’m not really sure when we’re gonna start Ueck-ing it up. Mostly I’ve been learning how to harvest wheat, making underpants out of various household items and spending my nights in the “Nightly Spirit Share Time. That’s when we all strip naked and offer our pain cells up to the Sky Judge. I guess Bob Uecker must’ve done something like that in Major League 3: Back to the Minors. I never saw that one. Anyway, things are going pretty well with Esmerelda 18, except whenever I try to make a move she tells me she has to meet Jeremiah, the leader of the convention, in the “Dark Room.” I guess that’s where they keep all the classic Uecker-belia. Also, everybody keeps talking about the coming of this the “Great One.” I guess he’s some sort of big deal, like Tom Berenger in Major League. I don’t really know about all that, but otherwise I love it here!
June 17th, 2011
Holy fuck the “Great One’s” fucking awesome! I never thought I could feel so complete inside! The anger spirits are flying out into the clouds of judgment and all I’ve got left are something called “taurons,” or beams of positive energy. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am living here and farming. I mean, I never thought I’d have such a great time shucking corn husks, but I also never thought I’d give out my parents credit card info for financing a monument to the “Great One,” but I’m totally doing that so I guess this must be fine too! I can’t wait till this convention’s over so I can tell all my friends about my transformation over into the world of enlightened wind. Of course that’s assuming I get out of here before the great cleansing when we all pass on into the afterlife of happy force. I hear it’s like a Lazer Tag but way more bitchin’. Woot! Woot!
July 13th, 2011
I’ve kind of forgotten why I came here in the first place, but I don’t really care, that’s how great it is! I’m in the best shape of my life; I’ve gone down three burlap sack sizes since getting here! Today was probably the most special day of all days: I finally got to go into the “Dark Room!” I don’t remember anything that happened but now I can’t get “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida” out of my head and I burst into tears anytime someone says “potato salad” which happens way more than you’d expect; I mean, these people really love Ron White. I’m almost late for tonight’s loyalty test so I better get going. I hear we’re gonna kill bunny rabbits for Jeremiah! Swish!
P.S.: Esmerelda 18 update: She’s dead! Why do I always go for the ones who get sacrificed!
June 8th, 2011
Finally figured out what’s happening to me in the “Dark Room.” Oh good God. Oh God. Oh good and heavenly God. Sweet Jesus. What a doozy.
June 13th, 2011
Tonight’s the night I make my escape. I’d rather get gunned down in the corn fields than let my soul die even one more day on this plain of despair. I’m starting to think these people don’t even like Bob Uecker! I won’t go into detail here for fear of being discovered but I’ll just say that my plan is rather elaborate and it involves a shank I crafted out of a corn cob and stabbing lots of people. My only hope is that I die tonight, and it turns out I’m wrong, and there is a God, and I go to hell, and then I could finally be at peace. For I know one thing: hell would have to feel like heaven compared to this place.
June 14th, 2011
Made it out alive. I can finally taste the sweet dew of freedom and boy does it taste good! Like eating a whole bunch of Skittles at once. All I can hope for now is to move on from this place and live again. Maybe I’ll get a cat. That seems like a good move. I do know one thing, though: this has certainly been…One Crazy Summer!
-
My Summer in a Cult
Last summer I made my annual trek off to my favorite event of the season: the biggest fan convention of the year for Bob Uecker, play-by-play announcer for your Milwauke Brewers and the announcer in the best movie made since Singin’ in the Rain, Major League. The trip took a hard turn when I arrived not at the convention, but at a religious cult commune. Shockingly, it didn’t seem all that different from conventions past. At first. The following is excerpts from my personal diary, recapping the events.
June 8, 2011
Got to the Bob Uecker convention today, and boy does it look like it’s gonna be the best! I’ve been to a lot of Ueck-fests in my time but this has all the makings to be the Ueckeriest of them all. Everybody else here seems super nice. They’re all smiling and wearing all sorts of sweet tunics and pants made out of burlap and yarn. When I ask them about it they say that once you’ve seen the light you realize that denim is just a prison keeping your bottom-soul from reaching the ultimate of freedoms. I don’t know what that has to do with Bob Uecker but holy fuck does it sound neat. I even met a real swell girl-lady. I know! Who am I, Don Juan or a more current lothario reference? Raef Fiennes, perhaps? He seems like he gets a lot of trim. Anyhoo, her names Esmerelda 18 (apparently all the girls here are named Esmerelda. What a coinky-dink!) and she’s super cool. She even agrees with me that the first couple seasons of Scrubs is funnier than people think! Holy gee, this is gonna be great!
June 16, 2011
Things have been pretty swell here at Ueckfest 11, but I’m not really sure when we’re gonna start Ueck-ing it up. Mostly I’ve been learning how to harvest wheat, making underpants out of various household items and spending my nights in the “Nightly Spirit Share Time. That’s when we all strip naked and offer our pain cells up to the Sky Judge. I guess Bob Uecker must’ve done something like that in Major League 3: Back to the Minors. I never saw that one. Anyway, things are going pretty well with Esmerelda 18, except whenever I try to make a move she tells me she has to meet Jeremiah, the leader of the convention, in the “Dark Room.” I guess that’s where they keep all the classic Uecker-belia. Also, everybody keeps talking about the coming of this the “Great One.” I guess he’s some sort of big deal, like Tom Berenger in Major League. I don’t really know about all that, but otherwise I love it here!
June 17th, 2011
Holy fuck the “Great One’s” fucking awesome! I never thought I could feel so complete inside! The anger spirits are flying out into the clouds of judgment and all I’ve got left are something called “taurons,” or beams of positive energy. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am living here and farming. I mean, I never thought I’d have such a great time shucking corn husks, but I also never thought I’d give out my parents credit card info for financing a monument to the “Great One,” but I’m totally doing that so I guess this must be fine too! I can’t wait till this convention’s over so I can tell all my friends about my transformation over into the world of enlightened wind. Of course that’s assuming I get out of here before the great cleansing when we all pass on into the afterlife of happy force. I hear it’s like a Lazer Tag but way more bitchin’. Woot! Woot!
July 13th, 2011
I’ve kind of forgotten why I came here in the first place, but I don’t really care, that’s how great it is! I’m in the best shape of my life; I’ve gone down three burlap sack sizes since getting here! Today was probably the most special day of all days: I finally got to go into the “Dark Room!” I don’t remember anything that happened but now I can’t get “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida” out of my head and I burst into tears anytime someone says “potato salad” which happens way more than you’d expect; I mean, these people really love Ron White. I’m almost late for tonight’s loyalty test so I better get going. I hear we’re gonna kill bunny rabbits for Jeremiah! Swish!
P.S.: Esmerelda 18 update: She’s dead! Why do I always go for the ones who get sacrificed!
June 8th, 2011
Finally figured out what’s happening to me in the “Dark Room.” Oh good God. Oh God. Oh good and heavenly God. Sweet Jesus. What a doozy.
June 13th, 2011
Tonight’s the night I make my escape. I’d rather get gunned down in the corn fields than let my soul die even one more day on this plain of despair. I’m starting to think these people don’t even like Bob Uecker! I won’t go into detail here for fear of being discovered but I’ll just say that my plan is rather elaborate and it involves a shank I crafted out of a corn cob and stabbing lots of people. My only hope is that I die tonight, and it turns out I’m wrong, and there is a God, and I go to hell, and then I could finally be at peace. For I know one thing: hell would have to feel like heaven compared to this place.
June 14th, 2011
Made it out alive. I can finally taste the sweet dew of freedom and boy does it taste good! Like eating a whole bunch of Skittles at once. All I can hope for now is to move on from this place and live again. Maybe I’ll get a cat. That seems like a good move. I do know one thing, though: this has certainly been…One Crazy Summer!
-
Jokes!
In the wake of his victory in the South Carolina primary Newt Gingrich has unveiled his new campaign slogan in hopes of locking down the nomination: Newt Gingrich: the choice of a very old, terrified and more-than-likely-racist generation.
Recently released memos show President Obama greatly scaled back his proposals in hopes of support during the first term of his presidency. For example, his initial proposal for universal healthcare ended with a final memo pleading for John Boehner to stop stealing band aids from the White House bathroom.
Sadly, Kenny G and his wife of over twenty years announced their separation. The former Mrs. G is filing under the claim that the marriage was a sham and her ex-husband had hidden from her for twenty years the fact that he was Kenny G.
Steven Tyler made the news after a particularly poor performance of the national anthem at a Patriots game this weekend. Crowds were even more confused when they discovered it wasn’t Steven Tyler at all, but a middle-aged woman waiting for her table at Chili’s.
-
Jokes!
The new year has brought concerns to many due to the Mayan calendar’s prediction that 2012 would bring about the end of the world. This has brought about much more fear than their previous prediction, the failure of Pauly Shore is Dead.
A recent study showed that the most popular resolution this new year was, as it often is, to lose weight. Second most popular: invent a low-carb Funyun.
Denver Bronco fans were shocked to see a smoke ring in the shape of a halo over Mile High Stadium this weekend as the Broncos made a field goal in their win over the Pittsburgh Steelers. Some are saying that this was a sign of God’s presence in Tim Tebow’s victory. When asked for comment God was quoted as saying, “Alright, everybody…Let’s take it easy for a second.”
Brooklyn borough president Marty Markowitz is proposing putting casinos in Coney Island. Markowitz is hoping this will change Coney Islands vibe from “hopeless” sadness to more of a “devil-may-care” sadness.
Research from Italy has found that men and women feel and behave in vastly different ways, and can almost be viewed as a “completely different species.” The company’s next research project is aimed to prove that black people dance much better than white people.
-
A Scene from My One Act Play About the Guys Who Casted New Year’s Eve
(A busy Hollywood office. Harry Anderson, 45, a grizzled Hollywood executive stands next to Richard Moll, 25, a young up-and-comer in the industry. Next to Richard is a human-sized item covered by a sheet. Harry smokes a cigar and drinks whiskey throughout the scene.)
HARRY: Alright kid, I don’t have much time here. I’ve got a meeting with the newest Deschanel in ten minutes and I’ve heard she’s even more “adorkable” than Zooey. What do ya got?
RICHARD: Well, you know how we’ve been having trouble figuring out who to cast in the upcoming soon-to-be classic New Line’s New Year’s Eve?
HARRY: Yeah.
RICHARD: What if I told you that the solutions to all our problems were under this sheet?
HARRY: Richard, offering your wife to me isn’t going to solve our problems!
(Laugh track)
RICHARD: Not my wife, Harry…this.
(With that Richard removes the sheet, revealing the Cast-Bot 4000. It looks like a robot.)
HARRY: Good god! What is that?!
RICHARD: It’s the Cast-Bot 4000. All you’ve got to do is tell it the kind of demographic you’re trying to reach and the Cast-Bot 4000 tells you exactly who to cast according to their earning capability, availability and amount of their soul remaining.
HARRY: Does it work?
RICHARD: Well, give it a shot, silly!
HARRY: Okay…(Harry takes out a sheet for casting. He puts on his old man reading glasses and pours over the sheet.) First off we just want somebody to let people know that it’s a fun, light rom-com with a splash of heart. Just to get in the regulars.
(The Cast-Bot 4000 begins to whir about with plenty of bells and whistles.)
CAST-BOT 4000: Katherine Heigl.
(Harry’s cigar falls out of his mouth. He instantly sports an erection.)
HARRY: That’s perfect! Why didn’t I think of that?!
RICHARD: Try another one.
HARRY: Alright…how about a sassy lady for the over 45 crowd. The kind of lady who’s all “Devil May Care” that the housewives can live through and feel like they’re not dead inside.
CAST-BOT 4000: Michelle Pheiffer…Sarah Jessica Parker.
HARRY: Perfect! What about somebody those same housewives can swoon over?
CAST-BOT 4000: Jon Bon Jovi.
HARRY: Jon Bon Jovi? He’s not an actor!
CAST-BOT 4000: He plays a rock star.
HARRY: Amazing! We can get rid of our whole casting department with this thing! Now we need somebody to get the minorities in the seats but won’t scare away the housewives…
CAST-BOT 4000: Halle Berry.
RICHARD: He’s done it again!
HARRY: People who like “Who’s the Boss?” and being sexually aroused?
CAST-BOT 4000: Alyssa Milano.
RICHARD: People who loved Raging Bull and now suffer from dementia.
CAST-BOT 4000: Robert De Niro.
HARRY: Fans of long-haired beardos who don’t act like long-haired beardos?
CAST-BOT 4000: Ashton Kutcher.
HARRY: What about teenage girls and closeted men in their fifties?
CAST-BOT 4000: Zac Efron.
HARRY: I can’t believe it…it’s…too good. You don’t even need me anymore.
RICHARD: Sure, we need ya.
HARRY: No, I’m useless. Yesterday’s news. I don’t even have a reason to live. I might as well just…
(Harry looks at the window. He sprints right through it.)
HARRY: (While he’s falling) WE NEED ANOTHER BLACK PERSON…!
(Richard runs to the window. He looks at the audience with tears in his eye.)
RICHARD: Nooooo! How could he die in vain?!
CAST-BOT 4000: Ludacris.
(Richard whips back at the Cast-Bot 4000 in a fit of rage.)
RICHARD: That’ll never work! We’ll lose all our other demos!
CAST-BOT 4000: Call him Cris “Ludacris” Bridges.
RICHARD: That’s perfect!
(Richard kisses the Cast-Bot 4000 right square on its robot mouth.)
RICHARD AND CAST-BOT 4000: Yay!
(Lights Out.)
-
An Email to Her Friends from the Lady Who Claims to Have Seen Ghosts Fucking in Her House
Hey y’all,
You aren’t gonna believe what’s going on over at my place! I know nobody’s been over ever since I had that wine and cheese party then spent the whole time trying to sell y’all Tupperware, but believe me when I tell you this is something you gotta see! (Besides, I pretty much sold all the Tupperware. How could I not when it’s such a great offer!)
There are ghosts fuckin’ in my house! I know it sounds crazy, and NO this is not like that time I told you I saw the Virgin Mary in my bathroom then tried to sell everybody Virgin Mary wallpaper. This is the real deal!
It all started a couple weeks ago. I was having my nightly vodka and vodka (Stoli grl 4 life!) and I just heard this gruntin’ and this moanin’. At first I thought Henry was just doing his Nautilus, but then I went to the stairs and I saw two ghosts doin’ it! Then the next night I saw them fucking doggy style in the laundry room! I mean I can’t see any penises or vaginas or anything, but there’s totally some little wavy things rubbing up against each other. Looks like Phyllis and Jerry! (Just joking, Phyll! You know I love ya!)
So, I figured you girls should come by this week and check out this love show. I don’t really know when they’re gonna start doin’ it, but I figured while we were waiting we could just drink some white wine, gossip and maybe talk a little about this great new weight loss balm I’ve heard about. Just in time for sweater season! LOL LOL LOL!!!!!!!
See you bitches this week! Bring your wallets!
Tami
