Once upon a time, in a mythical land named New Mexico that no one seems to know is one of the 50 states, I dated a starry lass who became upset by my exaggerations and fabrications. For example, I drove her clear across Albuquerque to a specific emergency room at a very speedy clip. The velocity was well over the posted speed limit and the resultant elapsed time was much shorter than typical.

The true velocity was roughly 85 mph. The time was roughly 15 minutes.

The next time I told the story it was 100 mph and ten minutes.

The next time I told the story it was redlined the speedometer and in the blink of a hummingbird’s eye.

The next time I told the story it was broke the speedometer cable, warped space time, and a grumpy hemorrhoidal dragon spitting acid chased us the whole way.

And that’s what stand up comics do. We exaggerate, we fabricate, we flat out lie to tell an engaging story. Truth told, I consider stand up comics the modern purveyors of the cherished American tall tales. Comics carry on the American tradition of spinning shaggy yarns.

If Paul Bunyan was alive today (because Paul Bunyan was a real man with an intense thyroid imbalance as I would tell it) it would be his preferred pronouns that became increasingly further from the source material, whatever that means. And Paul Bunyan would ironically wear flannel thick as a Trumper’s disinformation, whatever that means. And Babe the Blue Ox would be an emotional support animal companion, whatever that means. And Babe the Blue Ox would be Paul Bunyan’s equal and not an oppressed blue minority victim class, whatever that means. And Babe the Blue Ox would trample to death all of MAGA, whatever that means. And Paul Bunyan would hug old growth forests and not murder the elder trees with a murderous axe, whatever that means. And all the woodland animals would join wings and paws and hug Paul Bunyan back, whatever that means.

This is how I would spin the tall tale of Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox, because those who know me best know I’m the woke-est man in the land. And those who know me best know I lie in the service of mirth and joy. And those who know me best know I just really like lying for my own amusement.

Yeah, I lie all the time. Put that in your organic hemp pipe and smoke it, you disgusting capitalist patriarchal colonizers!