…or a pie
I was going to continue my Toon game preview from earlier today, but I just got done watching The Mark Twain Comedy Award: George Carlin on PBS.
I had tears in my eyes by the time it was over.
While my earliest comedy influences were Jonathan Winters and Bill Cosby (with bits of Jack Benny, the Marx Brothers and the Three Stooges thrown in), it was George Carlin who really got his hooks into me. He was outrageous, honest, obscene, irreverent and maybe just a little nuts. In many ways, not unlike my family, but with a far superior command of the english language.
Words. If the average funny person is like a kid who can play Chopsticks with one finger on the piano, George Carlin was Art Tatum. He was a virtuoso that the rest of us can only regard in awe. Don’t believe me? Just listen to him do his bits about advertising or football vs baseball or buzzwords. Pure poetry and damned funny.
I’m funny on a pretty regular basis. Sometimes I’m very funny. I can tell stories, do jokes, riff on a great many subjects, pop off one liners, make faces, change voices, wait for the laugh, do wild takes, make wry observations and perform acts of satire and parody.
But even when I’m at my very pants wetting funniest, I’m still a pale shadow of a pimple on the ass of George Carlin.
Fuck, I miss ya, George.
The Dociverse Blog 
Haven’t seen it yet but I had my wife record it for me while I was out. I still remember my first encounter with George Carlin. I was in 3rd grade visiting a friend’s house from school who had two much older brothers they used to play it and smoke pot while we would just laugh and get a contact high.
“Just keep being yourself and have fun with it.”