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Preview: Humor, Comedy and Other Random Neural Firings by Joseph Simmons

Joe Simmons. Comedian. Humorist. Loserist.

Random thoughts from a guy who thinks he's a great stand-up comedian.

Updated: 2018-03-06T21:08:48.046-05:00


Bill Cosby Teaches Jared from Subway


"Hey Jared! Good to see you! How are you?" "Bill---Bill Cosby? What are you doing here? Wait, where the hell are we?" "My boy, this is a place called the Public Consciousness. It's not fun, but don't worry, it's very temporary." "The Public what? Look, I have some commercials to tape, I have to--" "Hahaha," Cosby laughed. "Jared, trust me, all that filth flarn filth in your career just came

An Unexpected Message from my Mom


My OCD got sick and tired of seeing the big red “347” over the Google Voice icon on my iPhone a few days ago.  Yes, that means I had 347 new messages.  Well, maybe “new” isn’t a good description for them.  Some of them were from 2011.  Clearly, I hate voicemail. But feeling under the weather and having nothing better to do, I decided to log into my Google Voice account on a PC and undertake

My Mom, My Hero


When I was a Verizon rep in Florida, every once in a while another rep would catch me at my desk without a customer, seemingly doing nothing, with a big smile on my face. "Dude, why are you smiling?" He asked once. "No reason. Just to smile I guess." "Well, you look like a serial killer. Stop." My smile turned into a laugh, then back to a smile. I never really put that much thought

Mom and Dad (and Cell Phones)


Mom was in the passenger seat of Dad’s pickup truck.  She was playing with her brand new BlackBerry while Dad was driving. “Great,” he said sarcastically.  “Now you’re going to become one of those damn ‘BlackBerry Zombies’.” To this day, Dad hates cell phones, and only has a little flip phone because I got him one and made him promise to always leave it on.  That wasn’t the easiest rule to

Should I be Fired?


“My son just wants to take a look at iPhones,” said a middle-aged woman who hurriedly walked in our store on the Upper West Side. She wore very expensive clothing and was talking on her cell phone. She gestured at me to go away. Over-entitled Upper West Side bitch. I turned to the boy. He was about 17, also well-attired, but not wearing it well. He was overweight, had thick glasses, Has Nothing on Me


I have a rule that I never post about my social life on the Internet. I know that may sound weird coming from someone who has no qualms sharing the most embarrassing things about his life online and onstage, but we all have to have a line, and that’s mine. It’s mainly out of respect for the other party. But, I love this story too much to keep it to myself. So this one time, I’m making

The Subway


I was down in the 15th St-Prospect Park subway terminal seated on a bench, waiting for the F-train, pretty much pissed off that I had to go in to the city on my day off for a last-minute breakfast with the Regional Directors of my company. As it always does on weekends, the F-train was taking its sweet ass time getting there. A 20-ish girl walked up to sit next to me. She was heavy-set,

Vote "Yes"


Lady yelling at me from across the parking lot: "Would you like to sign a petition to legalize medical marijuana?" Me: "Hell yeah. Bring that over here." Lady: "Medical marijuana has many medical benefits such as--" Me, signing: "Lady, you had me at 'marijuana'. Here you go." Lady: "Thank you very much." Me: "So you got any?"

Store Story #662


Recently, an elderly couple came into our store in Naples, Florida to discuss some aspect of their account. The lady, somewhat heavy-set, moved quite well and set in her seat with ease. The gentleman, skinny and slightly hunched over, with wisps of gray hair futilely covering his balding head, struggled to his chair. I asked how I could help. She began discussing her issue, but soon

Store Stories #829


It caught me off guard when the door chime rung. Its beeping is usually unnecessary, since sales reps in our stores generally see our customers coming from their vehicles in the parking lot. But I never saw a car pull in. A short, older gentleman with thinning salt-and-pepper hair walked inside. He was probably in his 70s. I’m trained to give a warm greeting when someone comes in, but

Father's Day


My earliest memory of my father is when he was in his late 20s, and took me with him to pick up a new 1974 Chevy Impala. I was three years-old at the time, so the memory is not much more than an image and an emotion, but the image is of me looking out the front window from the passenger seat, and the emotion was pride—as if I had bought the car—and seeing Mom come outside as we pulled into

Where's my Dos Equis Tryout?


I've written for a blog that had thousands of readers. I've worn the UPS uniform. I've gotten on stage in front of hundreds of people, with a lone spotlight on me, and made them all laugh. I've seen the Latvian National Latvia. I'm on a comedy podcast. I once carried on a three-hour conversation with a Russian fashion model who couldn't speak English. I've written freelance

Mother's Day


About five or six years ago, I was riding as a passenger in a car where the driver noticed an immigrant-looking woman walking with two small children on a long, empty sidewalk. The three of them were by all indications neither near their starting point nor their destination. The driver made a joke. I didn't laugh. I immediately thought of my mom. She’s Filipino, having moved to the

NYC Trip Update II


I'm posting this from the train station in the Woodlawn area of the Bronx, sitting on the steps pretending like I'm a New Yorker. Everyone here seems to be coughing, sniffling and hacking, so I fit right in. This Goddamn cold hit me the day before I left for the Big Apple, and hasn't left me since. It's been more committed to me than any of my last three girlfriends. I'm starting to fall in

NYC Trip Update


I'm currently at about 30,000 feet in a Delta airplane the size of a tube sock. I hate everybody in here. I'm sitting on the aisle and fantasizing about tripping everyone that walks by. If we crashed it would suck because I would die, but everyone else getting killed would take the edge off. Okay, I know I sound bitter. I'm on three hours of sleep. Plus, I have not been sick in two years



Facebook looks back at me in grayed-out words and and asks "How's it going, Joseph?" like it gives a shit. It doesn't. It just knows that getting you to post something--anything--is the key to facebook. Heck, it's more than the key, it is the everything of this "social network". Facebook produces no content, it just organizes billions of megabits of keyboard diarrhea into easily

Comedy vs. Cancer vs. Local News


Two years ago, I was asked to perform with a few other comics at a charity event for cancer. Well, I guess it was against cancer. Or something. It was one of those "Relay For Life" things where people trek around this high school track for hours, and I was to perform on a stage right in front of said track. First off, I've never understood how people walking around in circles fights cancer.

Comedy is...Different


When I decided to become a comic a little over two years ago, I had no idea what kind of world I was entering. Up until that point in my life, I had always been employed in some kind of profession that required you to be, you know, professional. This meant there were certain assumptions about the way you behaved and just generally ran your life.   Just to cite one small example, in my previous

Anthony's 4/21/11: Avoiding the Chokehold


The caller ID said Bryan Hamilton was trying to reach me.  I don’t like answering the phone when I’m driving, but if you send too many of Bryan’s calls to voicemail, you run the risk of a rear naked chokehold the next time he sees you.  I hit the “answer” button. “I’m featuring at Anthony’s tonight,” said the fellow comedian.  “And I got you a guest spot.  Be there at seven.” Notice that nowhere

So, uh, this is it…


  It took about two days, but my new(ish) website and blog are just about complete.  I’ve known I’ve needed a web presence for a long time, but there’s a lengthy list of reasons why I had not gotten it done: 1. Websites cost money. Okay, so maybe “lengthy list” was a slight overstatement.  Call me a cheap ass*, but I’ve adapted nicely to the prevalent Internet marketing thought that every

He’s Ba-aaack!