Michael was thinking of something nice and

Michael was thinking of something nice and exciting thing to do on weekend when suddenly

a certain valley which will remain nameless. The limitations on the computer's power made it go for plan "b" which was to become a stand up comic. So it fought for 5 minutes at

The Purple Onion, but the audience was surly and jeered, "binary freak", "Windoze-cleaner" and threw old computer chips, and Thermisters. The thermisters were the last straw.

The comedian reached under the floorboards into a hidden stage compartment and pulled out weaponized Apple laptops. He threw them wildly into the crowd, the razor-edged weights

cutting the filthy ponytailed wannabes right in the face. Enjoy your stupid Apples, hipsters, the comedian thought. First a bunch of crappy poetry-reading beatniks, then stand-up.

What's next, politics? If there's one transferable skill I've got from comedy, it's making stuff up on the spot. They either believe me, or laugh. I'll miss assaulting hipsters.

Then again I won't miss the oversensitive macho boyfriends who don't get that a joke is a joke. Doubt I'll have problems with them once I leave comedy, but then as a politican I

can pass a law banning machismo in boyfriends. Forced by the the fear of penal servitude to reveal their sensitive sides my ex-boyfriends would at last

say why they left, not the "it's not you, it's me" crap. They squealed, "It's not me, it's you" and said I crushed their dreams of strong, independent womanhood. Jeez, grow a pair!