standup-routine

Sure. Here's a 3-minute stand-up bit without puns:

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You ever notice how nobody tells you when you’ve become an adult? It’s not your 18th birthday. That’s a scam. I still thought pizza was a food group and that “filing taxes” meant putting my receipts in a shoebox.

The real moment you become an adult is when you get excited about a new sponge.

I bought a sponge last week and I was like, “Ooh, it’s dual-sided!”
My ancestors crossed oceans and fought wars so I could stand in my kitchen like, “This one’s for scrubbing and this one’s for caressing the plate.”

You know you’re an adult when you have a favorite burner on the stove.
Don’t act like you don’t.
You’re looking at the stovetop like, “Front-left, you and me, we’ve been through some things.”

And what is it with “adult” dinner parties? When you’re a kid, you go to a friend’s house and it’s pizza, games, screaming, maybe someone throws up.
As an adult, it’s like: “Let’s gather around the charcuterie board and discuss real estate and gut health.”

Some guy is swirling wine going, “This has notes of blackberry and oak.”
Meanwhile I’m in the corner like, “This cheese cube tastes like feet and joy.”

Also—can we talk about how nobody knows how to say "charcuterie"?
Everyone says it like they’re casting a spell.
“Sharka—shkoo—chew—whatever, the meat tray.”

Dating in your 30s is wild too. You used to ask, “What’s your favorite band?” Now it’s, “What’s your relationship with your mother like?”
And you have to be honest.
Like: “Well, she’s alive. So that’s complicated.”

I went on a date recently and the guy said, “I’m just looking for someone chill, no drama.”
Sir. That is code for: “I want zero accountability and I ghost people when they express emotions.”

If you ever hear someone say “no drama,” that is the drama. That’s like someone saying “I’m really humble.”
No, you’re not. You thought about saying it out loud. You rehearsed it in the mirror.

Anyway, thanks for listening. I gotta get home. My sponge misses me.

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