Cohen the Cicada: Good evening, ladies and bugs. My name is Hallel Cohen, and I’m happy to be here!
Though, you know, my luck is not so good. I met this zaftig female— such gleaming red eyes and what a tuches! But oy vey iz mir! She’s just a common annual Okanagana rimosa rimosa. As you can see, I’m a glorious Brood XIV Magicicada septendecim, and this match can never be. It’s like West Side Story, am I right?
At least I didn’t fall in love with a tick, like my cousin, Noam. What a shanda!
Heckler (a Straggler Cicada): So where are the jokes, already?
Cohen: You try being funny when you’re a lovesick, one-winged cicada. May your next trip to the dentist make your teeth rattle like a Purim noisemaker!
Hey, what did the dog say to the flea? You bug me!
OK, all you Brood XIV Magicicada cassinii in the audience, raise a wing! Give yourselves a big round of applause. Each one of you— except you, Mr. Straggler— is a mensch for sticking out this rainstorm just to see the show. I don’t forget the Brood XIV Magicada septendecula. Strike up your tyndals and make a little noise for yourselves. That’s right! And the Brood IV Magicicada septendecim-- what a class act!
So…I fly along the sidewalk, well, hop, really, because of my rat-bitten wing, and I see, usually, only the front pages of discarded newspapers. It’s frustrating, of course, if the paper is torn. I read the headline “What Are Eco-Friendly Ways to Control Backyard Bugs?” But half of the article is missing, and, oh, how it makes me verklempt. Then a fire-ant acquaintance of mine tells me cicadas aren’t mentioned in the article, and we live above ground for only two weeks, anyway, so not to worry.
Speaking of life above or below ground, I think it’s fakakta that we seventeen-year cicadas miss out on our bar mitzvahs.
A cicada turns into a bar— and stays that way! Get it? He’s like a magician, this guy!
Heckler: You stink!
Cohen: May you win the lottery so your widow’s new husband never has to work a day! Why don’t you schlep yourself over here and try stand-up?
How is a calendar like a cicada? Both their days are numbered. Hey-oh!
Le’Chaim!
Though, you know, my luck is not so good. I met this zaftig female— such gleaming red eyes and what a tuches! But oy vey iz mir! She’s just a common annual Okanagana rimosa rimosa. As you can see, I’m a glorious Brood XIV Magicicada septendecim, and this match can never be. It’s like West Side Story, am I right?
At least I didn’t fall in love with a tick, like my cousin, Noam. What a shanda!
Heckler (a Straggler Cicada): So where are the jokes, already?
Cohen: You try being funny when you’re a lovesick, one-winged cicada. May your next trip to the dentist make your teeth rattle like a Purim noisemaker!
Hey, what did the dog say to the flea? You bug me!
OK, all you Brood XIV Magicicada cassinii in the audience, raise a wing! Give yourselves a big round of applause. Each one of you— except you, Mr. Straggler— is a mensch for sticking out this rainstorm just to see the show. I don’t forget the Brood XIV Magicada septendecula. Strike up your tyndals and make a little noise for yourselves. That’s right! And the Brood IV Magicicada septendecim-- what a class act!
So…I fly along the sidewalk, well, hop, really, because of my rat-bitten wing, and I see, usually, only the front pages of discarded newspapers. It’s frustrating, of course, if the paper is torn. I read the headline “What Are Eco-Friendly Ways to Control Backyard Bugs?” But half of the article is missing, and, oh, how it makes me verklempt. Then a fire-ant acquaintance of mine tells me cicadas aren’t mentioned in the article, and we live above ground for only two weeks, anyway, so not to worry.
Speaking of life above or below ground, I think it’s fakakta that we seventeen-year cicadas miss out on our bar mitzvahs.
A cicada turns into a bar— and stays that way! Get it? He’s like a magician, this guy!
Heckler: You stink!
Cohen: May you win the lottery so your widow’s new husband never has to work a day! Why don’t you schlep yourself over here and try stand-up?
How is a calendar like a cicada? Both their days are numbered. Hey-oh!
Le’Chaim!