"Goin' to the chapel, but first squeeze out a baby."

Don’t know where this is coming from. I’m no prude. I’m not a traditionalist. So I thought. Lately, our culture has been inundated with celebrities. The celebrity couple is at the forefront of all of this type of “news”. As if two people getting together on a set (or through a pre-arranged meeting), fucking and falling in love is any sort of “news”. Even so, the press is all over the prospect of wedding bells for the latest celeb hook up. Does anyone have wedding bells? Can you imagine, just beginning to date someone and your friends and family start asking about marriage? Any person with any semblance of good sense and that possesses knowledge about what it takes to be in a successful coupledom knows goddamned well that you DO NOT say forever and make forever commitments within the first six months of a relationship.

Don’t even say, “My great grandma and grandpa met as teens and it was love at first sight…” Yeah, it was also 1915 and they just wanted to get it on, but back then you had to get married first. Odds, people, it’s about odds. Odds are, in the first three months you will be blinded by passion, in awe of this magical love you have found. Yay for you. After three months the descent from ecstasy filled dances on the clouds begins. Oh, SNAP, that pedestal is gone. Reality sets in and you begin to see each other for who you really are and it dawns on you that relationships require work. It can be disappointing to come to terms with the fact that things just aren’t the same as they were. If you’re not a weak ass load, you will see that perhaps the person that got you all hot and bothered was simply a good lay. There is nothing wrong with that. You may even have loved that person. Falling in love or as I say, falling in lust, for a brief time is fine. It’s not a failure to not have worked out. It’s a blessing.

I’ve observed that women have a lot of trouble in the letting go area. They feel like failures and think that they’re worthless and “Oh, why, oh why, when it was so good?” Whatever. Shut up. (I’m married and all of that, but I’ve been here, so I can totally talk shit.) Society has conditioned women to get a man and hang on to that motherfucker for dear life. I think women in 2006 should know better than to buy in to that old school jargon, but then again, when I see television, newspapers, the internet beatify celebrity couples I can see how it would be very hard to escape the notion that there is no need to race to the alter or at least to start a famdamily. I think Paul Anka says it best:

You’re havin’ my baby.
What a beautiful way to say
How much you love me.

Brangelina. You thought it before I even wrote it. TomKat. I just vurped. There are the lucky few, and I know some personally, who end up in the family way with the right person, the one they wanted to work a relationship/family with anyway. BUT…odds, people, it’s still about odds. Oh, and kids. Oh, the miracle of the baby. It can fill one with such a sense of purpose and accomplishment. It’s like your own tiny human trophy. Except you have to share this trophy. I do not advise sharing trophies if you do not fully know, trust, and understand the person you’re sharing it with. If you’ve seen Family Guy, you may have glimpsed the horrific consequences of trophy sharing. Jealousy, envy, and lack of trust drove the gang to turn against each other until Brian the dog made them take a look at themselves and see just how retarded they were being. I’m totally simplifying and generalizing, but ODDS people ODDS. Try NOT to get knocked up in the first few months of blissful coupledom.

No one knows what will happen to the celebrity families in the making. Honestly, we don’t care, but if their influence penetrates society and plants the seed (punny) that love at first sight and baby at first (fill it in), is the hot new thing to do, then I will personally go and replace all of their celebabies with actual trophies. The kind you’d get at the little league awards banquet. You know a fake marble base with a gold painted plastic dude holding a bat. Most Valuable Baby.

Do NOT even THINK about burning them. EVER!

Request. Ladies of the comedy world, I implore you, no matter your size or your shape, please, please, please take care to wear proper undergarments when you are performing. By proper I mean one that fits well and provides a lot of support. You never know what is going to happen on the stage; running, jumping, dancing, etc. In your mind, you’re prepared for anything. Your breasts should be prepared for anything too. Many a show have I seen where there have been a woman (or women) with improper under attire on. By improper I mean unsupportive, ill-fitting and perhaps the wrong color. There is a Chicago improviser whom my husband and I call “Floppsie”. She’s hilarious, but what’s the FIRST thing that pops into our heads when we see her?

I saw a show last night where one woman in particular not only had a white shirt with a black bra, but the black bra was not up to task to handle the job, unless the job was to get her boobs as close to her belly button as possible. As an audience member it’s terribly distracting . Everyone notices and everyone looks. This takes away from the scene. It’s gross and unnecessary to be subject to the embarrassing results of what is simply an oversight on the part of the performer. Oh, and lady teammates, if one of your fellow female performers is lacking proper undergarment awareness, help her, unless she’s a bitch.

Along with wearing a proper bra or other such item, it is crucial that the female performer avoid wearing those spaghetti strapped, stretchy tanks with built in bras. Cute, sexy and practical off stage, but (aside from a mini skirt) one of the worst possible items of clothing you could wear on the stage. They offer very little support, offer up tremendous views of cleavage, and even if you’re not terribly well endowed, these little numbers offer NO protection from a sudden nipple outburst. I’ve seen a lot of shows and for the majority of female performers, this doesn’t seem to be an issue. That being the case, all the droopy, floppy, nipply, ladies stand out all the more. So please, fix yourself. Don’t make me give you a nickname.