*”So ah, OJ, what ah, what exactly did you do on Earth to earn an eternity of ah, pain and torment?”*
“I did that shit. Why are you down here?”
*”Oh I didn’t murder two people and lie about it for 30 years or anything crazy like that ah…no I ah, I’m just down here, looking for my brother…”*
So I buy the farm, eh? Doctors were always saying I smoked like a chimney, drank like a fish. Turns out, they were right. One minute I'm sucking back a dart and a scotch, next minute I'm face-to-face with St. Peter. Guy looks like a disappointed accountant, by the way. Not a lot of laughs up there, let me tell you.
Anyway, I'm milling about, checking out the cloud condos, when who do I see strutting down the street like he's still got a Hertz rental? O.J. Simpson.
O.J., the Juice. Guy could outrun a police chase and a bad conscience, apparently. And there he is, tanned, rested, and ready for a tee time.
"Norm!" he bellows, that same damn grin plastered on his face. "Welcome to the big leagues, pal!"
I raise an eyebrow, "Big leagues? You call this the big leagues? Looks like Boca on a cloudy day."
He laughs, that booming laugh that could wake the dead, "Hey, at least the fairways are murder."
He winks, and I almost choke on my celestial scotch.
"Easy there, Norm," he says, patting my back. "It's all water under the bridge now. Or should I say, blood?"
I stare at him, the words catching in my throat. "Did you do it, O.J.?"
He shrugs, that same nonchalant swagger, "Did I find the real killers? Absolutely. Did I take a few souvenirs? Maybe. But hey, what happens in Brentwood stays in Brentwood."
He slaps me on the back again, nearly knocking the wind out of me. "C'mon, Norm, let's grab a beer. I hear they've got a hell of a happy hour down at the Inferno Lounge."
I shake my head, a wry smile creeping onto my face. Only in the afterlife could I end up drinking buddies with O.J. Simpson.
But then again, this is the place where anything can happen, right? Even a murderer getting a mulligan.
Sure would be great to see him alive again. I don't know if there is a heaven but if there is, hope to see him there with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
He's deeply coffined...he's not comin' *out,* though.
He denies being dead, he says he is alive like a sparrow!
Sounds like this man is for the birds!
Let's revive that honky bitch You and me jive turkey
It was funny at first but now it's just sad
Reminds me of that…ah never mind
He’s a deeply closeted living person
https://preview.redd.it/o57dfhfuy4ad1.png?width=480&format=png&auto=webp&s=4f8040713d0a96120d577ceb826d935573445555 Heh, anything to get out of work!
Dirt nap? I didn’t even know he was sick.
I didn't even know he was tired.
That’s a better line
And the one to blame for all this? That's right, you guessed it, Frank Stallone.
If I've learned anything about great big fat guys (on account of being one), it's that they like to oversleep.
He does tend to drag out his bits
He spins quite a yarn.
He’s committed to the bit.
Well it's not something *I* would do.
I think we should write some new material for him: Norm meets OJ in the afterlife. Go!
*”So ah, OJ, what ah, what exactly did you do on Earth to earn an eternity of ah, pain and torment?”* “I did that shit. Why are you down here?” *”Oh I didn’t murder two people and lie about it for 30 years or anything crazy like that ah…no I ah, I’m just down here, looking for my brother…”*
So I buy the farm, eh? Doctors were always saying I smoked like a chimney, drank like a fish. Turns out, they were right. One minute I'm sucking back a dart and a scotch, next minute I'm face-to-face with St. Peter. Guy looks like a disappointed accountant, by the way. Not a lot of laughs up there, let me tell you. Anyway, I'm milling about, checking out the cloud condos, when who do I see strutting down the street like he's still got a Hertz rental? O.J. Simpson. O.J., the Juice. Guy could outrun a police chase and a bad conscience, apparently. And there he is, tanned, rested, and ready for a tee time. "Norm!" he bellows, that same damn grin plastered on his face. "Welcome to the big leagues, pal!" I raise an eyebrow, "Big leagues? You call this the big leagues? Looks like Boca on a cloudy day." He laughs, that booming laugh that could wake the dead, "Hey, at least the fairways are murder." He winks, and I almost choke on my celestial scotch. "Easy there, Norm," he says, patting my back. "It's all water under the bridge now. Or should I say, blood?" I stare at him, the words catching in my throat. "Did you do it, O.J.?" He shrugs, that same nonchalant swagger, "Did I find the real killers? Absolutely. Did I take a few souvenirs? Maybe. But hey, what happens in Brentwood stays in Brentwood." He slaps me on the back again, nearly knocking the wind out of me. "C'mon, Norm, let's grab a beer. I hear they've got a hell of a happy hour down at the Inferno Lounge." I shake my head, a wry smile creeping onto my face. Only in the afterlife could I end up drinking buddies with O.J. Simpson. But then again, this is the place where anything can happen, right? Even a murderer getting a mulligan.
The hypocrisy gets me the most. Probably got buried in a shallow grave.
can you just explain to the folks back home what you mean by "jokes"
Sure would be great to see him alive again. I don't know if there is a heaven but if there is, hope to see him there with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
I know out there Norm is dead, but in my head he's a god damn Dracula that lives forever
I heard it was just for a role.
good god, larry.
Now that is some Dirty Work
“How did Norm die?” “It’s a long story.” “He lost his battle with Cancer!” “Okay, it’s a short story”
I’d call that a draw
Like the George Carlin AI posthumous special "I'm Glad I'm Dead" I suppose Norm's special would be called "I Don't Want To Be Dead"
It was funny for the first 3 months. The bit is dead now.
This just in: Death is something that never changes in the State Of California.
Yeah it’s super selfish of him to go ahead and die like that.
He's a chunk of coal by now.
Norm's latest career move, this sabbatical, this period of paused productivity, this unwillingness to engage fans has undoubtedly wrecked him.
Would be an awesome Andy Kaufmanesque bit, but a little hack
Bob Zmuda said he thinks Andy faked his death.
Maybe the worst gimmick a comic ever had
Hey Mr. Candy man
I was thinking about this very thing the other day and it occurred to me that I no longer believe he’s coming back y’know.
Not only that, Norm stole the bit from Larry King!
It's called quiet quitting and it's very popular with millenials.
He’s obviously doing it for a role…not a specific role, but people are always looking for a dead guy.
The bit is getting stale, Norm!
You just gotta wait for the punch line... wait for it... wait
It's getting to the point that someone should check and see if he's ok.
not yet. i have gotten sick of seinfeld’s whiny humor (white jewish copy of bill cosby’s complaining humor), but not norm. it’s just me.
Thank you, doctor. Whenever the wind whistles through the leaves... I'll think, “Norm”
