Okay, so maybe my pay-per-joke model isn’t exactly delivering the punch(line) I hoped for. Let’s just say my bank account is in the red. Ever seen a red piggy bank? Me neither. I’m hoping to get it back in the pink soon—otherwise, it might end up looking more like Bacon Bits. And no, that’s not a new cryptocurrency.
There’s got to be another way to cash in on comedy. I want to laugh myself all the way to the bank—as opposed to convincing the loan officer I’m good for a laugh. I still have student loans from Clown College to pay off, and let’s be honest—not every graduate lands a golden arches deal. Some of us are just small-fry clowns hoping to ketchup.
Others wind up on the street, stuck making balloon animals for spare change. That’s inflation for you.
And don’t get me started on the looming shakedown. I’m not talking strawberry, chocolate, or vanilla—I mean the kind that leaves you with one shoe and a flower that squirts tears.
So, if pay-per-joke wasn’t your jam, I’ve got a new pitch: Gig-gles—a platform connecting comedians with short-term gigs and long-term delusions of grandeur. Turn side-splitting comedy into a side hustle. You might be thinking: “You’re joking, right?” And that’s exactly the business model. You’re joking—and getting paid for it.
Great news: you can get in on the gags-to-riches plan, because I’m looking for injesters. A fool and their money are soon parted anyway—so why not give yours to an even bigger fool?
Gig-gles is no laughing matter. Act now, and I’ll throw in my entire circus act as a sign-on bonus. Help keep my piggy bank out of the salad bar.
Disclaimer: Gig-gles is not responsible for laughter-induced side stitches, wallet shrinkage, or spontaneous pie-to-the-face incidents.
