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Considering my ongoing feud with bobcats, I'm thinking of starting a stand-up comedy school exclusively for bobcats. I mean, why not? They clearly have strong opinions about comedy, so why not teach them the art of it? Imagine a class full of bobcats trying out their best knock-knock jokes or attempting observational comedy about life in the wild. Picture a graduation ceremony with diplomas handed out by a wise old mountain lion. It's a wild idea, but hey, it might just bring peace between comedians and bobcats.
I can already see the promotional posters: "Bobcat Stand-Up Comedy School – Where the Roaring Laughter Begins!" Just hope they don't bring their claws to the open mic nights. It could get real catty in there.
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You ever have a heckler during a comedy show? It's annoying, right? But nothing compares to a bobcat heckler. They don't just boo; they growl. And let me tell you, getting heckled by a bobcat adds a whole new level of pressure to your performance. I had this one gig in the woods – very exclusive, only the finest woodland creatures invited. I'm in the middle of my set, and this bobcat starts heckling me. I try to reason with it, like, "Come on, I'm just trying to make a living here!" But no, it wasn't having any of it.
The worst part is, the other animals joined in. Squirrels chattering, owls hooting disapprovingly – I felt like I was in a nature-themed episode of Comedy Central. I guess the bobcat had a point; my jokes were a bit "wildlife inappropriate.
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You know, the other day, I had a run-in with a bobcat. Yeah, a bobcat! Now, I don't mean the construction equipment; I'm talking about the wild, ferocious feline. I didn't even know bobcats had issues with stand-up comedians until then. I thought they were more into lurking in the woods and looking menacing. But no, this bobcat had a bone to pick with me. So there I am, minding my own business, trying out some new jokes in the great outdoors, thinking nature would appreciate a good laugh. Suddenly, this bobcat shows up, giving me the stink eye. I'm like, "Come on, Mr. Bobcat, I'm just trying to make people laugh, including you!" But apparently, my comedy doesn't translate well to the animal kingdom.
Now I have this recurring nightmare where I'm doing a set in the forest, and the only member of the audience is a judgmental bobcat. Comedy is tough, folks, especially when your toughest critic has claws.
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I've been contemplating getting therapy lately, you know, to deal with my bobcat-induced trauma. I mean, who wouldn't need therapy after a wild cat stares you down like you owe it money? I can just imagine my therapist's reaction: "So, tell me about your issues." "Well, doc, it all started with a stand-up gig and a disgruntled bobcat." I can already see the therapy animal they'd assign me – not a dog, not a cat, but a full-on bobcat. Imagine trying to share your deepest fears with a therapist while there's a bobcat sitting there, judging you silently. "Am I doing this right, Mr. Whiskers? Does my trauma amuse you?"
I swear, if therapy doesn't work, I might have to switch to clown school. Maybe bobcats love a good clown routine.
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