She So Funny

 

beheaded; or worse, condemned to a season of continuously unchanging, uneventful weather.

                                                                                     next election.

Yes, I ate all my snow snacks 

But they could be wrong.

So make your reservations now 

See me singing & slinging jokes

4 PM Sunday Feb. 1 at Don't Tell Mama

Can't make the show?

Tweet &/or Post My Hashtag:

#GiveRhondaHansomeALineInGhostbusters



The Divorced Divas of Comedy is having a Valentine's Day show.  Folks, the pressure of holidays like this can get crazy.  People feel like they are inadequate if they aren't someone's Valentine and all that shit.  Get dressed, give yourself a hug, look in the mirror, tell that person "I love you," and take yourself out to the show.  You will have a good time.  Everyone who was at the last show had only one complaint -- their laugh muscles were hurting. 

 

 

My earliest Valentine's Day memories were with my mother.  She brought home construction paper, white lacey paper, and all kinds of fun materials for us to make cards.  I feel the thrill even now when I remember how I felt then.  I miss her so much.  She was my first and best Valentine I ever had.

 

I was with a wrong man for a long time.  Each year on Valentine's Day, I received something special within his means.  Then he got me pregnant.  I needed medical coverage for me and the baby.  I married him.  On my first married Valentine's Day, I received nothing.  Not even a card.  He was an artist, by the way, so he could've folded a piece of paper and made something impressive in minutes.  But he chose to be hateful now that he believed he "had" me.  I remember saying, "I'm not your Valentine anymore?"  He said, "I wasn't near a store."  Less than two months before, I spent 13 hours in labor.  But walking across the street and two blocks to Rite Aid was too much for the man.  My value plummeted after having our baby.  I would not understand the pathology behind that for many years.  After that, I didn't care what he gave me in future years for Valentine's Day.  It had no meaning anymore.  I'd even suggest he not bother. The best gift would be he leaving.  The year I needed love most since I was pumping it out anywhere from 19 to 24 hours a day to our colicky baby, he showed his self.  But he wouldn't leave.  Didn't want to leave a space that might allow someone else to actually love me.  Staying in my apartment married was his stalking style.  His "love" was an act of hate.  It caused a lot of misery.  Finally many years later, on a Valentine's Day, he moved out. 

 

Having a Valentine's Day comedy show is probably the best way I can spend it.  I hope you'll be my Valentine and come to the show.

 

From the first Divorced Divas of Comedy show: 

 

 

 

 

Like the Sword of Damocles, suspended by a horse hair over Dionysius 

Valentine's Day looms over February. 

I ask you Dear Reader, what does this impending celebration of love really mean to you? 

All I come up with is 

                                                       &                   Dopamine

DRUGS!!!

Dionysius thought it was great being in the shoes of Damocles, until the horse hair shifted slightly in the breeze. Is love a double edge sword, a poet's rapture or the loneliness of the long distance runner? Have I left out any pertinent cliches? Speak on LOVE here Dear Reader(s) and let me walk a mile in your shoes.

Sun. Feb. 1 @ 4 PM I sing & sling jokes at Don't Tell Mama with Ann McCormack & Woody Regan  * Sat. Feb. 14 @ 8 PM it's stand-up with my She So Funny sister blogger, Mindy Matijasevic & other Divorced Divas of Comedy. Get there early for wine & you just might find... LOVE! Whatever that is...

                                                                                                                             Mindy Matijasevic

 

 

Rhonda Hansome

 I saw the news today. 

I don't think I'll ever get use to death notices on facebook. 

One minute you're laughing while watching an octopus sexually harass a dolphin and the next moment your heart stops.

Amy Daulton

R.I.P.

Like the row upon rows of police backs turned to Mayor DeBlasio, my leaving stand-up was an over reaction, but at the time it made sense. 

Stand-up was an exquisite, challenging, oft fickle lover I'd unceremoniously dumped.  A decade later, I was trying to wriggle, wrangle and wish a return to her good graces after giving her my back.

Amy was one of the original 7 here.  Samantha DeRose asked us to be on She So Funny, a new humor site she was launching. In less than a heartbeat I said yes. I was delighted to be the old crone blogging with a bunch of hilarious up-&-comers. I needed to wade in the water of social media which, during my hiatus, had become a tsunamai. Now I'd have 6 pairs of hands to hold. One pair belonged to Amy...

     Win-Win!   

I came to She So Funny, pining for comedy's touch, her kiss, her rolling thunder. I thought with the heft and wit of 6 other funny women writing here, I might recapture comedy's favor, or at least her ocassional nod of recognition. 

I'd like to say that Amy and I were fast friends, who hit 6 PM open mics in tandem and guffawed over coffee at my place. But with sadness all I can say is,

        Amy was here. 

                Young, funny and beautiful.

                                                   Now she's gone.

And Taylor Negron also...

We'd be in a few clubs at the same time. I doubt he knew me, but I knew him; an ever present face on screens both large and small, an always unique voice in our comedy wilderness. I can never not laugh at words he carved into my head. 

                    "Area rug"

Here's his 1 man workshop in story telling:

California Gothic

Here's my pal Nancy Lombardo in an informal chat with Taylor

Nancy Lombardo Tribute to Taylor Negron

Taylor I miss you already. You and Amy have fun. Tell Joan and Robin I said, hi.

4 PM Sun. Feb 1, at Don't Tell Mama I'm singing & slinging jokes with Woody Reagan & Ann McCormack Join us!

Well 2015 has shown all the promise of continuing mayhem & blood letting. 

NYPD doesn't even bother to keep statistics on the number of unarmed civilians they kill. 

A certifiable loony chose to "Give pigs wings." at THE OPTIMAL MOMENT to short circuit the potential of a monumental multi-ethnic, cross-generational, inter-religious movement poised to demand equal justice and accountability in police practices. 

                                              

                                             As in comedy, it's all in the t-t-timing.

Insert here your own conspiracy theory related to the heinous murder of officers Rafael Ramos & Wenjian Liu...

1 week later I have to shake my head when NY police are again targets.  Thankfully they survived the gun shots of fleeing bodega bandits. 

Unfortunately, a blood soaked blue line does not foster good will nor rational communication with NYPD union reps. How the NYC Patrolmen's Benevolent Association flipped a responsible father's caveat to his son, 

"To be careful around police."

into a Mayor's blanket castigation of the entire police force; takes mental jujitsu and a not well hidden agenda*.

This week in Paris, cartoonist were massacred by the dozen. As far as endangered species go, journalist are gaining on young black men.

Because airplanes continue to inexplicably fall out of the sky, I wrote a joke:  For Christmas I gave my ex a lifetime of travel on Malaysia Airlines. It's a 1-way ticket. 

                                                                             Too soon?

Today's temperature is 9°, but it feels like -12°.

                                                                           Is perception reality?

It feels like we're going to hell in a hand basket... So sit back, relax.

Have a sip of gasoline.

*Make logical connection to conspiracy theory you inserted above.

4 PM Sun. Feb. 1 at Don't Tell Mama

I'm telling jokes & singing with Ann McCormack & Woody Regan