I'm offended by "fat chicks". The term, not the fat chicks...err women of large build.

One week remains until the Last Comic Standing auditions in Minneapolis, and last night I gave my final open mic performance in preparation for my attempt in front of a crowd consisting of four teenage dudes smoking Marlboros and seven other comedians. Optimum conditions for comedy. I had a few new jokes I gave a whirl and the teen smoke patrol liked one of them. Here it is:

I rarely have a girlfriend because when it comes to relationships, I'm very picky. Please notice that I said relationships and not relations. When it comes to relations my motto is Carpe Diem...which translates to "Seize the Fat Chick."

Note to all girls I've ever been intimate with: that is just a joke. Each one of you is special.

I was a little distracted during my act because one of the kids up front kept reminding me of someone, but I couldn't figure out who it was. It was his hair that did it. It was really weird. Then I finally figured out who it was:

Now an option at SuperCuts

I got some advice from a friend who already auditioned for Last Comic Standing in Los Angeles. She wrote that I have to hit it hard and fast and that I'll be lucky to get more than one minute onstage. Well, that's good news since I only have four total minutes of material...and three of those are fat chick jokes. She also told me that the producers are looking for certain "types" of people. This is perfect for me. I'm hoping to fill the obese Vietnamese angry Black woman type...or possibly the soft edgy guy with the hard heart of gold. America will love me.

There was a high percentage of smokers in the crowd last night. Did you ever notice that whenever cigarettes are mentioned to a smoker that they immediately light up? You can talk about a monkey you saw at the fair that smoked through his asshole, and they will light up a cigarette. You can tell them about a gruesome Public Service Announcement on television about smoking and the thousands and millions of people that die horrible, painful deaths each year due to lung cancer, and they will go for their pack with a quickness. You can talk about an orphanage that burnt to the ground killing scores of innocent children all because of an evil spinster that managed the orphanage fell asleep while smoking in bed, and they will light three cigarettes at once, one for the mouth and one for each nostril. Did you know that Pavlov's dogs had a pack-a-day habit?

Every smoker that read the last paragraph just lit up a cigarette.

I was surprised at how many people in Chicago didn't smoke. It must be all the kickboxing. I should start an anti-smoking/kickboxing campaign. Kickbox the Habit! Man, I have good ideas.