How Dare You

I have wasted a lot of my life saying “I’m sorry” when I really wasn’t.

I’m the peacemaker who never wants to hurt anyone’s feelings, even if they hurt mine. I try to be honest, but I’ll pull a punch if it will keep you from killing yourself.

When I was younger, it was really important that people thought I was funny. I needed to hear it. “Tell me I’m funny, please. Tell me!” When I would have a bad set (notice I said “when” instead of “if”), I’d wear the shame like a scarlet letter. Most comics believe you’re only as good as your last show. Uh-oh.

I used to equate that bad show means bad person.

Nowadays, I don’t really care so much. I say what I want. If you’re with me, that’s great. If not, that’s fine too, but I’m still going to say it. And if you’re offended, well, then I’m offended that you’re offended.

I’ve said all that to say this: my mom is mad at me because I said “balls” on television.