The Daily Paragraph – Cat Show

The Daily Paragraph

Cat Show

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Ding! Pussycat penumbra. Animated. Three. No two… no… Scintillant. Ghostly matting. Tabby pelt. Bamboozled. Diversified existences… Ambitious eyeshots… Tunnel vision. Doorway bleached. Ebony borders. Characters. Life. An amphitheatre. Mitts elevated. Elongated… Joyful prizefighter. Inevitable. Patient victory… Tail or made…? Whiskey whiskers… Shadow boxing UFO’s… Targets suspended. Doohickeys… closer than they appear… Deception blemished perception. Gambits… Catcalls… This lion will become…

By: Connor McDonough-Flynn

The Daily Paragraph – Man Net Fish

The Daily Paragraph

Man Net Fish

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Rickety raft… no oar. A serendipitous surface… Eager to explore… Harmony. Effervescence. Shades. And shadows… A spindle and spinnaker… The nourishment… Sole… Natural equities entangled. Casting. Extending a hand. Natures. Spidery man. Rapturous ripples breaking the surface… Morning dew?  Or midnight mist? Liquid reflections… Wind swept lasso. Tethered. No bait… No bobber or pole… No lines or lies. What’s beneath shall suffice… Periwinkles. Pollock. Perch. And plaice… the net profits. Unperturbed. Ambition filled waters. Reaching the lazy rivers delta… with a humble appetite.

By: Connor McDonough-Flynn

 

The Daily Paragraph – Pug Hat

The Daily Paragraph

Pug Hat

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Walk the plank! A giant amongst men… Adorning his egoless crown. Addressing his magistrates. Paparazzo… Cool. Calm. Composed… His nap interrupted… Lips drooping. Characteristic wrinkles. Accentuated cuteness. Coat agleam. A rascally rebel… penguin tux… necktie… pants, unnecessary. Whiskery mustache. Lick-able nose… Strutting on all fours. A Herculean stature… Don’t mess with me sucka…! I pity the fool… Star encrusted backdrop. Universal eyes… Innocence. Majestic amazement. Man’s best friend. Enlightening man…

By: Connor McDonough-Flynn

The Daily Paragraph – 1 Guy 2 Bulls

The Daily Paragraph

1 Guy 2 Bulls

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Cascading… backdrops of slop. Erupting flooded racetrack. Sludge. Muck. Oozing wet dirt. Keys ignited… engines revving… Black bayonets on both bovines. Charging… Work. Struggle. In the end… Eaten. Orange oxen. Futures forthcoming, yet indistinguishable… Unknown. Incapable. Master… Brave soul. Dangerously living. Levitating above… His journey. Bounding forward… eyes ahead… Humans. Animals. Tied together. Chaotically composed running. Finish lines drawn. Strength. Speed. Choral-hearts pounding. Screaming. Wild meets wise. Carnal. Unadulterated freedoms. Split. Two-harsh realities. Break away. Composure. Belief. Trust. Weather the storm… Ride it out…

The Daily Paragraph – Tight Flying High

The Daily Paragraph

Tight Flying High

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Parachute…? Plummeting perilously in a suspended limbo of setting golden undertones. Zany! Weightless… lost magic carpets… a genie… Flying, in a copper sky. Tight ropes, cables… Energetic division. The bazaar is lacking restraints. Free falling dissension… Arms extended towards the brightest star. Courage. Heart. Vastly dangerous arts… Hubris has overrun the safety net… Only one-way left… The feat conquered. Fear and force… Dissolving worries… Defeated, when met with craziness…

By: Connor McDonough-Flynn

The Daily Paragraph – Fire Breath

The Daily Paragraph

Fire Breath

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Circus. Or Crusade…? Darkness. Awoken by a tense anatomy. Cave man’s glowing-glasses enlightened. Past discoveries through rapid oxidation… Yellow roses blossoming, orange spray alight. Reds. Blacks, browns and whites… Visibly alive amongst nature’s natural resources… Intense. Uncontrollable. A combustible gas cone… Spitting anarchy… Bedlam-bouquet ablaze… Respiratory revolution… Open the floodgates. Walk on… Take a breath. Quench your thirst.

By: Connor McDonough-Flynn

The Daily Paragraph – Guys and Ducks

The Daily Paragraph

Guys and Ducks

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And they’re off! I’ll get her… No I’m first! Get the… out of my way! Green bulls. Energized wings. Chasing billed sirens. Pulling at plumage. Payment will be received. Procured pints led nowhere. It’s a numbers game. A quaintly parched atmosphere drenched with angst. Chaotic quackery. Cave man tactics administered, charm to cumbersome, patience’s a vice. Spirits infused lunging. She’s mine! Birds are quacked… Guys are quaked… Shame’s no object. It’s all about the cycle… Nature. Running its course.

By: Connor McDonough-Flynn

The Daily Paragraph – Tomato Guy

The Daily Paragraph

Tomato Guy

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Oh Shit… I can’t stop…! Fired down Bolognese Boulevard. Red rum. Robust. Colonized sliding side streets, covered in vegetation; an urban sauce. Legs alluded. Takeoff underway. Wings outstretched… Hands splayed. Speechless eyes of bloodshot wonderment… Escaping the cerulean light. Racing… into oncoming traffic… Squashed! A period in time… Passionado…

By: Connor McDonough-Flynn

The Daily Paragraph – Free

The Daily Paragraph

Free

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 –

Water washes… the soul clean. Buoyant woman, eye’s skyward, descending from dreamland, untouched. Vibrantly alluring altitudes. Levitating lavishly. Her house, the vicinity, walking distance; hovering… Her cape flapping, the wind tranquil… Super… Powerful. Sun implied… Clear blue. Peaceful. Dangling amidst a playful puppeteer. Innocent shapes at sea, turquoise ripples, reflections of home, endless avenues of splendor… The fairer sex… Exhaling clouds. Vaporously. Flying free.

By: Connor McDonough-Flynn

‘Sin’ Newspaper Article Numero 2!

What IS Funny?

It took me a while to figure out what I was going to write about in this article… What do people want to know about comedy? Jokes and stuff right? Ok…

Jokes. Jokes are to comedians what a .44 Magnum was to Dirty Harry: “Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk!”

I badmouth my jokes all the time; self-deprecation is sa crucial ingredient in a comedians spice rack. It’s important to be able to pull the piss out of your self; I’ve practically wrenched out every ounce of my dignity by this point.

But what is funny?

This question rattles around in my head like a 1cent coin in a charity bucket, hopefully it eventually adds up.

Write about the topics that I find humorous and amusing you say? Ok. The hard part is figuring out a direction, a vehicle, a chariot if you will that clearly translates the madness in my head to you the audience. This can be a daunting task. Sadly, going up and lambasting the audience with all my problems and cynicism is frowned upon, and rarely enjoyable.

I know it sounds strange but jokes are personal, it’s not just writing funny, it’s taking a topic or idea from the cellblocks of my cerebral and putting my own crafty spin on it.

I have a plethora of jokes that I find hilarious, but some jokes don’t translate well on stage, or they’re simply not funny. This is a harsh realization that smacks me in the face as I tragically broadcast a disaster of a joke to an audience’s silent confusion.

My worst joke was about the cinema popcorn trick… The age-old date trick where the male cuts a whole in the bottom of the tub of popcorn and inserts a surprise for his date to discover at a, hopefully, opportune moment during the film. This joke went through the whole ordeal, and after rambling for about ten minutes, I realized the audience had not only stopped laughing but had begun to pity me. I think I put them all off popcorn for life.

I am a constant work in progress, because jokes have a shelf life. One of the hardest tasks to do is to lay a joke to bed, because a good joke, a well-constructed joke always gets a laugh, which makes it easy to hide behind, and can make a comedian lazier than a college student after a mental weekend!

I have a joke about Lassie and his utter contempt for Timmy, the numskull in the show who continually injured himself. I then distressfully suggest to the audience “will somebody please put a helmet on this kid!” Lassie has been getting laughs for almost two years, but now I am slowly coming to the unfortunate realization that it might be time to put Lassie to sleep… for a while… This is tough, because Lassie is one of my favorite bits, but like Dirty Harry, I have to continually build my arsenal and push my luck.

But the question still remains… “What is funny?”

I turn the question to you the reader, what do you find funny? I would be interested to hear what your take is. Is Lassie funny? Farts? Walking into a door? Let’s see who can come up with the funniest topics. E-mail your ideas to: unhingedcomedyclub@hotmail.com. I look forward to hearing from you.

If your looking to see some of the material I am working on live, check out the “Unhinged Comedy Club”, downstairs in The Cellar Bar, on every Thursday at 9pm. Come and see Lassie put to sleep.

I’m Connor McDonough-Flynn, love life and laugh ladies and gentleman, and support live comedy, until next time, g’luck!

 

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