The Dog and Kony Show.

Authors note: This piece is inspired by this article and the events that led up to it. 

Melbourne Comedy Festival Review. 

The Kony Show.

Last night I saw some of the best comedy that I have ever witnessed, in print, in person, on film, ever. Although the crowd was small the message was poignant and most importantly, devastatingly hilarious. There were four main performers, a mother and her two children, Kaylan aged 8, her brother Dylan aged 10 and someone mysteriously referred to as Katheleen. Their lines were delivered deadpan and aside from a few smiles from the kids all the actors took about their task with an enthusiastic seriousness and without a single shred of irony. There were no pratfalls, no crazy antics, no one said the word ‘zany’ and no one got hit in the face with a pie. It was just a group of people going about their business with honesty and integrity with only some t-shirts and posters as props.

I swear, I almost asphyxiated I was laughing that hard. Their delivery was so natural and earnest that I almost forgot that they were performers. They walked that wonderful line that meant that no one knew if they were serious or not and it made the absurd sentences that came out of their mouths all the more amusing. At first the audience was silent, then a few smirks began to play out across the faces as people tuned in to this particular frequency, then the smirks gave way to giggles and before we knew it we were leaning hard on each other trying to breath through the hysteria, struggling to keep our feet.

Sometimes comedy is just comedy, and then sometimes, rarely, it breaks out of its zenith and throws itself out of our sphere of reference to become something else, something almost indefinable. It is sociopolitical, moral-ethic comedy. Because we can relate to what’s happening it makes us question our own lives and circumstances, because we identify with the comedian we can also identify with the subject matter of his jokes. We were laughing not only at the act but at ourselves, laughing at our wretched pathetic loneliness and the ways we try and combat it. Clicktavism, and Social networking, our need to grab on to a cause no matter how far removed or how relevant it is because of our need to feel validated in a digital realm.

The laughter we were laughing was the cathartic. It was laugh therapy at its finest. I’ll probably never get cancer now, no matter how hard I try. The audience became one, strangers were turning to each other and exclaiming, ‘I can’t believe it, how do they keep it up?’ whilst wiping the tears from their eyes. We knew we were part of something special, we knew we were witnessing the birth of something big, the next huge movement that would pick the world up and carry it to a better place. And we were there at its inception.

Later I got to catch up with the actors and they were as funny off stage as they were on. I asked the kids how they felt being involved in the show and they said that they couldn’t be happier, that it was good for children to experience adult situations because it gives them an opportunity to see what exciting adventures awaited them in their adult-hood. I told her that I, for one, can’t wait to see them either. I asked her how she was enjoying her run at the comedy festival and she said “It's bit sad more people didn't turn up, but I feel like I am doing the right thing.” I told her that indeed she was and that I would try and encourage my friends to see what all the fuss was about. “I'm hoping a lot of people see Kony, it is really important,” she said, and I told her that I couldn’t agree more.

Missed conections.

Once again I got an email from, oh I don't know, some fuck face. My spam filter on my email is pretty shit so I get a fair few people trying to phish me. I decided to write back to this one because she sent a photo and "knew" my real name. Tricky.

From: Avrora
To: *************
Sent: Monday, 2 April 2012 2:09 PM
Subject: waiting for your reply!

Hello or G'day to you, **** *****!

In your message you asked only to send you my picture to your personal
email address. Ok, I send it. I hope you like :)

I have some questions. Besides your name, I would like to know in what
city you live. Would you like to meet me as a friend? And of course, I
will be very glad if you send me your picture!

Some info about me:

My name is Avrora (yes, it's my real name).I am 27 y. o. I am a widow.
I don't have kids. I live in the country Ukraine, city Odessa.

I am looking for friendship. I am coming to Australia in 3 weeks. I
would like to find a friend to meet in real.

N.B. I am not interested in virtual sex. I don't need any naked pics
exchange. I don't discuss any sex topics, i.e. sexual fantasies,
preferences in sex, etc. I hope you are not disappointed :)

I will be waiting for your reply. You can write me and send me your
picture to my personal email address

Best regards,
Avrora.

("her picture")




So this is how I replied:


Anal Fissure, how nice of you to write, only, the thing is, I have no idea who the fuck you are or why you're sending me pictures of yourself. You look like a whore or a Russian gangsters wife. Same difference really. You wanna know what city I live in? I live in a midgets cunt and I eat corpse fingers for breakfast. One time I got constipated from all the undigested knuckles. When I finally prized open my asshole and removed the offending matter it looked so much like salami that I cut it up and made it into a sandwich. In doing so I had both a shit and knuckle sandwich all at the same time. It was pretty amazing. If we ever meet I can promise that I will make you one.

Areola, I searched for you on facebook but couldn't find any results. It's cool though, I'll keep looking. I have no reason to stop, currently I am unemployed and besides masturbating, well, there is no besides. I literally have nothing else to do. My fucking arms are like Popeyes'. You know Popeye? You will.

Have you ever been fisted? You look like the kind of Eastern European woman who smells faintly of shit and lube where ever she goes. Like nerds smell like sweat and old cum. One time I laid a fart in my pants that hung around of DAYS but then I realized I had shit myself. Has that ever happened to you?

Have you ever fucked an old guy? I hear that's popular past time in Odessa. That and being sold into slavery. Also, I hear that the percentage of women with fake tits is higher than the percentage of women without them. What the fuck is up with that? Also, whats the deal with all the sexual re-assignment surgery that happens there? I'm pretty free and liberal thinking but I think there may be more to it than that. Perhaps there is something culturally wrong. Have you considered suicide?

I once knew a girl who's breath smelled worse than her ass and once when I was sitting beside her I could smell her vagina. I am actually not kidding about this. It was like old fish on a hot day. But with out that sexy sexy side. I mean, I'd fuck a fish quicker than you could say 'That crooked government official raped me and my sister and will escape punishment because our systems are so corrupt' but I don't live near the ocean so the only thing that I can do is buy a whole bunch of fillet'o'fish from Mcdonalds and pretend. I hate it when the cheese burns my dick though. Then I have to dunk it in cold water. And I hate cold water. It too burns my dick.

You said you didn't want to talk about sex or sexual positions or fantasies or naked pics or sex topics, which is fine, because it's actually one of my fetishes, to not talk about sex topis or preferences. Man, just now when we're not talking about sex my, well, we can't talk about it but let's just say that there was quite a clean up involved. I sure am glad I bought that dog, he comes in handy ;) I mean he eats cum. Which is good, because I masturbate. A Lot.

So I included a picture which I think is a good likeness. I hope you enjoy it. Just so you know, I can fit a whole bunch of shit in my dick. I don't carry a wallet for that exact reason. If we were to meet when we'd walk down the street I'd insist you held my foreskin because I find it much more intimate than holding my hand. Also, that way I could use my hands to signal for help because if I'm walking down the street with you then I've been kidnapped by a Ukranian transsexual and she's here to eat me and absorb my soul.

Do you know where I can find a good witch doctor?

(the picture I sent back)