Spontaneity: In Doses

In beginner improv, we seem to preach spontaneity.

But spontaneity can be dangerous. Let me explain.

So I'm standing in the bathroom. I'm looking at my chest in the mirror. I say to myself:

Damn. That's one long nipple hair.

Now I know nipple hair can't possibly be sexy. Especially wild, untamed nipple hair. I think to myself, I gotta cut this. That just doesn't look right. I look in the drawer for my electric razor. Oh yeah, I haven't unpacked that since the wedding I went to on Saturday... I'm getting a nasty pervo moustache from not shaving...

So anyway, I look for anything. Scissors, something that cuts. Anything!

And then I see the lighter.

Someone who's never done improv would not consider burning their nipple hair off instead of cutting it. I mean, that's quite possibly the stupidest idea I've ever had. But I had it. It was my idea.

Luckily, that little voice in the back of my head, you know, the one that says stuff like "Now now. Stop staring at that guy's hook hand" or "Whoa back, sonny. Don't you start a fight with that drag queen", that little voice kicked in. It said "Hey there, sport. Fire Bad."

Indeed.

PS-- Sorry to Arlen and Kevin. I totally didn't know you guys were going on "Hey Ma! I'm on Sonic!". I submitted the first Generalizer Sampler last week as a playlist, and Adam said "I'm on the pile", which I guess means the good pile, not the bad pile... I hope you don't think me the copy cat.