Driving back from the comedy club on Monday night, I passed a building called the ‘Kolache Factory’. Kolaches, for those even less knowledgeable than me are sweet pastry rolls filled with savory or sweet stuff. They started out in Czechoslovakia, which used to be a country, and and are pretty popular in Texas. The Kolache Factory of Austin produces millions of Kolaches every day and provides employment for hundreds of former Communist orphans who would otherwise be destitute.*
There’s a sign on the wall outside the Kolache Factory:
The sign isn’t very wide, creating the somewhat confusing 4 line message. I’m most concerned by ‘apple rific’, which isn’t even hyphenated. I presume the owner was wittily trying to play on the word terrific in describing his baked goods but you could just as easily assume he meant horr-ific and anyway terrific can also mean ‘to bring terror’ and other hideousness. And horrifically terrifying caramel apple Kolaches would only be suitable to sell at Halloween and would probably mean they had maggots crawling in them and so wouldn’t really sell at all. But I suppose at least the Czech orphans would get a meal that night. I would suggest apple-licious as a less ambiguous alternative or just ‘our caramel apple Kolaches don’t contain maggot’. Like me, you may also be puzzled by the ‘Now Hiring’ line, given there aren’t that many more jobless former Communist orphans in Austin, but maybe the KF people realise this too and are using the sign to to see who they can lure from their competitors. If I were looking for factory work I’d probably prefer to make Kolaches with no shoes on than mulch up curd at the Cheesecake Factory to serve to fat people with no personality.
So I made it through the prelim round of the Funniest Person in Austin contest. I wasn’t particularly happy with my set, it was neither brilliant nor terrible. I was more nervous than usual going into the contest because I’d hypocritically changed my mind about doing it and knew I’d look like a right twat if I didn’t at least make it to the semi-finals. My decision to stay away was in part a protest at the Comedy Central judges who didn’t put me into the finals last year. Once they noticed my absence this year they’d feel great remorse and do everything in their power to change it. But, I had some small niggling doubt over the success of my plan. The only surefire option was to do the contest and change the system from the inside. Yes, I’ve become a comedy revolutionary.
The semi-finals are a way off. Before that, I’ll have been to England, competed in 2 triathlons and, well that’s it really. So much for the comedy rule of three. It’s rubbish. At least there’s plenty of time to kid myself that I’ll write some brilliant new material that will propel me into the finals. In reality, I’ll develop this fantasy in my head until the night before the show when I’ll discover some scribbled joke ideas on a napkin in my jeans pocket, drink some more wine and play another game of Brain Academy on my Nintendo DS.
* Statement has not been verified.