the US is unreal like girls cant wear shorts to school, you can literally lose your job for being gay, and unarmed black children are brutally murdered on the regular but old white ppl r still like “what a beautiful country. i can freely carry a gun for no reason and some of our mountains look like presidents. god bless”
So this is what trust looks like.
Funny, my first thought was “So this is what the patriarchy looks like.”
Yup. This is how women are supposed to trust men. With their lives.
Woman : “Hey, can we just… Drop the bow?”
Man : “WHY DON’T YOU TRUST ME I’M NOT A VIOLENT GUY, YOU ARE INSULTING ME THINKING I WILL HURT YOU!!!”
Woman : “No it’s just… Well I’m afraid.”
Man : “But why? Look at me, I’m not afraid. And we’re equal, look, we pull the bow together.”
Woman : “I think we’re not equal, you can kill me with the arrow and I can’t.”
Man : “What? So you would like to be able to kill me? You’re so agressive!”
Woman : “That’s not what I mean, we were talking about equality : you can hurt me, I can’t.”
Man : “Of course you can. You can hit me with the bow if you want.”
Woman : “That’s not the same thing, it will never kill you.”
Man : “Oh, you always complaining, stop victimising yourself! Do I talk about the difficulty of holding the arrow? Of the responsibility it giving to me?”
Every debates about gender equality, ladies and gentleman.
omg the comments. Brilliant.
Two years ago, I was performing at The Punchline in San Francisco, and Robin came to the show with our mutual friend, Dan Spencer.
This particular batch of material was the first time I had touched upon my then still-fresh divorce wounds, and big chunks of it were pretty dark. The next day, I got a text from a number I didn’t recognize. Whoever it was had obviously been to the show and knew my number, so I figured they would reveal themselves at some point and save me the embarrassment of asking who they were.
The Mystery Texter asked how I was REALLY doing. “You can’t fool me. Some of those ‘jokes’ aren’t ‘jokes.” By now I knew that whoever this was had been through what I was enduring, as no one else would know to ask, “What time of day is the hardest?”
He wanted to know how my kids were handling it, all the while assuring me that the storm, as bleak as it was, would one day pass and that I was not, as I was then convinced, a terrible father for visiting a broken home upon my children.
I am not rewriting this story in retrospect to make it dramatic. I did not know who I was texting with. Finally, my phone blipped, and I saw, in a little green square, “Okay, pal. You got my number. Call me. I’ve been there. You’re going to be okay. - Robin.”
That is what you call a human being.
Man goes to doctor. Says he’s depressed. Says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. Doctor says, “Treatment is simple. Great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up.” Man bursts into tears. Says, “But doctor…I am Pagliacci.”