My new stand-up comedy album Hunter Collins Goes To Hell comes out tomorrow and let me tell you, I really tried.
I tried to make an album that pleases everybody and their grandma. Which is why the last twenty minutes is just grainy covers of Gene Autry ballads.
I tried to make an album for the little guy. And his teeny wife. And their puny children.
I tried to make an album that my dead dad would like, just in case they have Spotify in hell.
I tried to make an album that reminds you of your youth, especially if you were raised in a comedy club surrounded by 300 drunks and an owner who refuses to give you free soda.
I tried to make an album that if played in reverse, sucks.
I tried to make an album that leaves you feeling braver than you believe you are, smarter than you think you are and stronger than you seem. The perfect gift for any cowardly idiotic wimp.
I tried to make an album that makes conservatives froth at the mouth. And makes the far left’s eyes water. And gives everyone else mad cow disease.
I tried to make an album reminiscent of George Carlin’s early work, before he became a comedian and worked as a pig-shit delivery man.
I tried to make an album that’s carbon-neutral. This killed a thousand carbon mining jobs and the miners union has vowed their revenge.
I tried to make an album that punches up. And also karate chops sideways and commits vehicular manslaughter to the southeast.
I tried to make an album that puts the “ire” in “satire”, the “rev” in “irreverent” and the “puke” in “I’m gonna puke”.
I tried to make an album that uses the super goodest words and rocks so goodly that you have to look some of the words up because you’re not sure if they’re fermunculous.
I tried to make an album that serves as an homage to my comedic idol: Odie from the Garfield comics.
I tried to make an album that paints me as a humble man. Ideally, the appeal of my unparalleled humility will help rake in millions, so I don’t have to talk to the likes of you anymore.
I tried to make an album that speaks to paranoid schizophrenics, even hours before they put it on.
I tried to make a feel-good album, which is why every physical copy is coated with a thin layer of codeine you can lick off (it might taste like mad cow).
I tried to make an album that makes you want to call your mom, because isn’t that the same voice that keeps leaving her lewd anonymous voicemails?
I tried to make an album that makes Drew Carey look like Hannah Gadsby. I guess it worked.
I tried to make an album that slaps, but Apple said the cost of updating every phone with a foam-rubber hand on a spring that shoots out to assault you would bankrupt them.
I really hope you guys like it.
Hunter Collins Goes To Hell hits every streaming platform August 12, 2022 on Comedy Records
Hunter Collins is a retired bomb defuser who spends his free time huffing white-out behind your apartment.