Comedian
by Scott Hardie on May 25, 2007
The bad news: I have a miserable cold (thanks Charlotte) and I slept for an hour last night.
The good news: I had to speak in front of a hundred people today.
Why is that good? Because every once in a while, my company asks me to host an event, and I get to boost my stature while doing something I love, which is making a crowd laugh. Today's occasion was a roast for the longtime HR director upon her retirement. Nothing is more fun than getting to rip into the senior executives in public and getting laughs instead of worrying about a pink slip. And when it's a roast, there's no such thing as too mean. Let the individual speakers pay the compliments and go for the warm fuzzies; I'm there for the zingers.
I was afraid having a cold was going to sink it at the last minute, since I can't talk for long without having a coughing fit. Instead, I talked my kind coworker Marlon into reading the speech from a sheet of paper while I pantomimed next to him, and damn if that didn't work out to be even funnier.
What a great way to spend a birthday.
One Reply to Comedian
Logical Operator
The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »
Nuts and Veggies
If you haven't heard, VeggieTales is coming to NBC. Without reference to God. And the creator feels duped. Go »Roller Coaster
Our lives have had lots of ups and downs lately. I'd blog about each of these separately if I could. DOWN - Kelly is laid off again. Go »Over and Out
"How's the week treating you?" "Like I slept with its wife." I've had better weeks. Go »24 Hours in Orlando
Recent conversation with Brenda: me: "It's nice to meet you!" Brenda: "It's nice to meet you too!" As Steve mentioned, Kelly and I drove up to Orlando on Friday night to have dinner with the vacationing West family. Go »R.I.P. Mom
You were so still in your bed when I could finally sit down beside you, a few hours after the facility notified me that you had died. I hadn't seen you be that peaceful in years, your eyes not scanning the room for clues, your hands not turning over each object in front of you for endlessly repeated examination. I whispered to you the most urgent and most precious things I had to say, the secrets and atonements and wishes foremost on my mind. Go »
Jackie Mason | May 27, 2007
[hidden by author request]