Everybody fancies themselves as some sort of wizard that can conjure up laughter by a few strokes of a keyboard, but only a few tweeters are truly worthy enough to have all of their witticisms transmitted to you, the ever busy comedy fan trying to navigate through an increasingly congested internet. Every Friday we'll make your life a little bit easier by introducing you to an individual that you might not know about who consistently makes us laugh and momentarily forget that other days of the week exist.
(If you're reading this from an RSS feed, jump on over to the website where you can actually view the tweets for an optimal level of enjoyment.)
Patrick Walsh (@thepatrickwalsh) is a man who doesn't let The Vatican dictate how he spends his days, no matter what.
If I lived in Vatican City, I'd walk around noisily eating a bag of Sun Chips asking everybody "Wait, what's going on?" But if someone has an unfortunate opinion it can throw Patrick off immensely.
Never really liked SEINFELD, huh? (throws hot soup into date's face, sprints from restaurant, tosses cell phone into ocean) He's a naturally good pitchman.
Hugh Jackman...makes robots fight...to earn the love of his...son? Sorry, I don't have a pitch prepared. Wait, you want to make it?!? Walsh's closet can talk.
"I'm...STORING! All ya clothes. Ya hats...ya scarves? They're...all here. In-SIDE me, baby." - a Walken closet His apartment is perverted and over, though.
My apartment is so hot John Mayer just lazily fingered it while yawning. Patrick is Facebook friends with some characters from high school.
Nice Gandhi quote on Facebook, girl who routinely used the "N word" in high school. Walsh blacks out sometimes.
"You there, boy! What day is this?" - Ebenezer Scrooge or me any morning when I drank the night before Patrick has always gotten things done.
I used to sneak my Jehovah's Witness friend out trick-or-treating with me. I was basically the Harriet Tubman of the mini-Twix circuit. Unless that thing was choosing where to eat lunch.
Bring the cash to the mall food court or I kill your son. I'll be at Panda Express. No, Steak Escape. Ooo...Sbarro! Lemme call you back. Walsh is a multi-tasker.
"Be there in 5," I text, though I am 30 minutes away, completely nude, and engaged in a fist fight with a neighbor. But don't invite him to your friend's improv show.
When improv teams ask for suggestions, I like to yell "Learn a trade before your father cuts you off financially!" Patrick wants to be loved for the right reasons.
I'm a great juggler, but I never do it for the girls I date. I need to make sure they're falling in love with ME and not my juggling. And not for his lovemaking with frustratingly ambiguous endings.
Sex with me is like INCEPTION. Long, confusing, needlessly complicated, but ultimately quite beautiful & worthy of major awards. Or for not taking a loss too badly.
Harrison Ford seems like the kind of dude who wouldn't speak to his wife for days if she beat him at putt-putt. Or for his pillow talk.
I use a white noise machine to sleep & when I turn it on I say "Make some noiiiiise!" Some nights it's funny, some nights deeply sad. Women need to love him despite his many glaring flaws.
When I fast-forward commercials & I go 5 seconds too far my girlfriend reacts as if I've just shot her in the face. 10 years ago today I married my best friend. My wife was furious. Patrick can be inconsiderate.
I throw you onto the bed and rip your blouse open. You're mad. The blouse was a gift, and rather expensive. We quietly split a Coke. Otherwise it's over.
I think we should be other people. It's for the best. He was in an abusive relationship to begin with already.
It'd be hypocritical of me to hate on Rihanna and Chris Brown's relationship because I've been with Time Warner Cable for 10 years.
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