Erich Stauffer

Tag: comedy

  • Things People Say in a Hotel Room

    This video is about the things people say when they spend the night in a hotel room from “can you please turn the fan on” to “we need more towels” to “who is going to go get ice?”

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5FaicI7RXUo

  • YouTube Simulator

    I recently started making funny comedy skits on YouTube. In this video, I act like I’m playing a YouTube simulator game.

    In this interactive-fiction type game, I act like I’m playing a game on the computer, which is really my son, Kevin.

    YouTube Simulator Shirts on Amazon

    Shirts from the video are available on Amazon.com here (affiliate links):

  • 16 yo Tries to Wake up for School

    I recently started making funny comedy skits on video and posting them to YouTube and Facebook. In this video, I act like I’m Jordan, the 16 year old who rode an Uber. He is obsessed with chicken nuggets and although he just bought a car, he still has to take the bus to school because he can’t afford to register it.

    This is continual build-out of the universe that contains The Substitute Teacher, The Driving Instructor, and most recently, The Principal. The one thing they all have in common is that they all love chicken nuggets and McDonald’s.

    Jordan, the 16 year old, shirts on Amazon

    Shirts from the video are available on Amazon.com here (affiliate links):

  • The Principal

    I recently started making funny comedy skits on video and posting them to YouTube and Facebook. In this video, I act like I’m Merv, the school principal. He likes to collect McDonald’s Happy Meal toys, make dad-jokes, and do bad impressions. The only thing he loves more than his students is his master’s degree.

    This is continual build-out of the universe first created by the 16 year old who rode an Uber, followed by The Substitute Teacher, and The Driving Instructor. The one thing they all have in common is that they all love McDonald’s.

    Shirts from the video are available on Amazon.com here (affiliate links):

  • The Driving Instructor

    I recently started making funny comedy skits on video and posting them to YouTube and Facebook. In this video, I act like I’m Gary, a driving instructor who is “only doing it for the money” because it is better than mowing lawns and weedeating.

    This is the second video in a series, the first being 16 yo Rides an Uber, in which the 16-year-old Uber rider asks his friend about whether he took Driver’s Education this summer and if he had Gary as a driving instructor. They both love McDonald’s.

    My daughter, Magdalena, is coincidentally in Driver’s Education right now and so she actually did the student driving in this video. My son, Kevin, did the videography. Kevin has his own YouTube channel where he covers video games, The Game Boys.

    Shirts from the video are available on Amazon.com here (affiliate links):

  • Phone Number Rhythm

    Most everyone knows how to say a phone number: you say it in sections, area code, prefix, then the number (sometimes called the “line number”). Kevin James if famous for the phone number rhythm, “Bum bum bum, bum bum, bum bum.”

    Anyway, I thought of him when I saw this sign in Elwood, Indiana: Home for Sale, but see if you can figure out what the actual phone number is.

    Phone Number Rythm

  • Every Vote Counts

    A guest post by Joe O’Banion.

    I was in a public office for almost 20 years, which necessitated the running for office every so often.

    During one campaign, I was greatly embarrassed with one episode concerning the placement of some of my yard campaign signs. I asked a good acquaintance of mine if he would place one of my signs in his yard. He agreed and even asked me for four signs so that he could place them in other peoples yards that he knew would be supportive.

    I told him that I was going to go to the local cemetery to visit a grave site and that when I finished, I would drop by his home and leave the signs for him. He told me that he also, was going to the cemetery as well and that he would meet me there.

    I put four of my signs in the back of my car and drove to the grave of my youngest son, Kevin.

    As I was getting out of the car, my friend with his pick up truck pulled up behind us. As I was unloading the signs from the back seat of my car, I had removed two and rested of them against my car and went about getting the remaining signs out, when another friend of mine, happened to be driving by as well.

    He stopped his car, rolled down his window and yelled, “Joe, how many votes do you think you will be getting from here? This is not Cook County Illinois.”

  • Hard Times at the Claypool Courts

    Many years ago, the Claypool Courts Hotel, located on the Monument Circle, in Indianapolis, Indiana was one of the finest hotels in state. The coffee shop was very first-rate. In this story, the hotel was the central location of the events that follow.

    The weather was extremely cold, below zero and early in the morning of this particular day, a fine glaze of ice and hoar frost was on the landscape. My wife, Helen, had gone to Shreveport, Louisiana to visit her family and had taken my youngest son, Kevin, with her. Kevin, who was under five years old at this time, often stood behind the bus driver on the trip from Shreveport to Indiana. Kevin would tell the driver that he was going home because his father was missing him.

    It was a Sunday and there was a strong sun out which was dissipating frost and ice. The bus was to arrive in Indianapolis around noontime and Rosemary, a woman from my work and friend of the family was with me. We had left early in the morning, taking time to avoid any mishap because of ice that was still in many places on our route. We arrived almost two hours before the bus was to arrive so I parked the car on the circle near the Claypool Courts, and both of us went in and entered the coffee shop and for some coffee and sweat rolls.

    An hour had passed and we decided to go to the bus station, which at one time was Indiana Urban electric traction terminal, to check on the bus arrival.

    cigsOn first entering the Claypool Courts on our arrival in Indianapolis, the weather was still below zero, and when we took a breath, the mucus in our nostrils froze a little. At this time, I was smoking menthol cigarettes and I knew that going outside in the extreme cold would cause a coughing spell. I had just lit a cigarette upon leaving the coffee shop and not wanting to smoke on the way to the terminal, I was looking for a place to extinguish it. The entrance to the hotel was a revolving door. Near the entry door were two elevators, which had a cigarette urn between them. I stopped at the urn and put my smoke in the sand.

    We walked to the bus stop that was one block away, and I went to the dispatcher window to check on the arrival. The dispatcher told me that the bus would be late by one hour because of the road conditions. The bus terminal was really not a place to spend an hour; it was much cluttered with debris, dirty, and was not heated. Because of this, the two of us decided to return to the coffee shop.

    On re-enterring the hotel, we saw two couples waiting by the elevator. They were dressed nicely, and being a Sunday, there appearance was more than proper. I also noticed that my cigarette was still in the urn. Therefore, when Rosy and I were abreast of the elevators, I stopped between the two couples, stepped between them and said, “Excuse me please,” and retrieved my cigarette.

    Rosy was extremely embarrassed and continued into the coffee shop, leaving me way behind her. In a way, I do not blame her.

  • Sameness…Differentness…Humor.

    I have such an unusual fascination with being different.  (At least, I think that it is unusual)  I want to feel like I am truly unique.  But, I still have a considerable desire for other people’s approval.  I want others to connect with me in some way and say: “Yeah, him and I are the same in that way.”  How can both of these be true at the same time?  Is there one that I truly want and the other is fighting me?  Or do I need both sameness and differentness to achieve some sort of “balance”?

    Comedy and Humor

    That seems to be what makes stand up comedy work. Somebody says something, and we say: “Yes, that is true! I see it the same way!”  And we bond to them.  We connect with them.  This (I’m learning) is why I always used humor as a defense mechanism in school growing up.  Some kid would call me a name, or make fun of my clothes, somehow to point out how I was “different”, and I would look for some way to get attention from others so that I could feel “the same” again.

    Think about it. This is why we have “inside jokes”…and why they piss off the people who aren’t “inside”.  We are connected with someone in some specific way.  We share the same ________ (house, class, team, tribe, etc.), and it is only funny to those who share it with us.  We enjoy it because we are the same.  Others loathe it or avoid it because they are not the same, in respect to whatever is being joked about.

    So, why be different?  Why do we have Carrottop, Seinfeld, Chappelle, AND Ellen?  That’s what I’m trying to figure out!  Is variety a virtue unto itself?  Help me out here.