Paul F. Tompkins

If you’re not familiar with Paul F. Tompkins, ask for God’s forgiveness, because mine is out of reach!

Nope. That’s too strong. Sorry about that. If I’ve alienated you already, all I can say is I’m sorry. You’re right to be angry. That first sentence was thoughtless and overly combative.

Better?

Well, bad news. I only wanted to illustrate my reasonable nature in order to double-down on my original rhetoric. If you don’t know Paul F. Tompkins, you are beyond redemption.

Harsh, I know. But, I’m not without pity. I’m not a monster. I’ll attempt to bring you up to speed.

Paul F. Tompkins (P.F.T. to the initiated and those who may only communicate through scrabble tiles and have carelessly lost their vowels) is a professional comedian. I’ve enjoyed his standup for years.

How do I describe him? He’s a connoisseur of absurdity, but that absurdity is couched in a persona of aghast reasonability.

A lot of his bits could be explicitly or implicitly followed by the phrase “has the world gone mad?” Uhg. That description almost sounds like an insult. It’s reductive.

Is there anything worse than trying to describe why comedy is funny in writing? Probably not. Not unless you could do it in a haiku:

Mustache formal wear
Funhouse mirror to the world
Old-timey word play

Yep. I’m the worst.

I’ve lost my train of thought here.

Ok, I began (and will finish, by God) writing this in order to recommend listening to the Pod F. Tompkast.

He’s funny. It’s free. It is really the only (primarily) monologue podcast I’ve come across. His impression of John C. Reilly pretty much ruined Wreck-It Ralph for me, but I forgive him. Also, for the first time ever, I find I have an opinion on a pianist. Eban Schletter really makes the show. Check it out.

If I haven’t convinced you yet, chances are I’m not going to. Chances are you aren’t still reading this. How dare you?

Cake Boss.

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