I laugh at people that claim that black women aren’t funny. Seriously it makes me fucking lol. In my mind someone that says some lol-centric garbage like that should not be taken seriously. Ever. Things like that- “Women aren’t funny.” “Black women aren’t funny.” Etc. Garbage. Etc. Reeks of laziness and ignorance and of the 1950’s. I am not here for them. I am too grown for that. Comedy is so incredibly subjective it seems so stupid to argue about it.

That being said the recent conversations regarding black women in comedy have been a hot topic for the last 3 months. The statement of one person has sparked a “conversation” or a need to “prove” that “black women are funny” to idiots that don’t need our worth proven to them in the first place.

Now there are so many blog posts and news reports and articles on the internet discussing and analyzing black female comediennes. There are articles along the lines of  “Black Female Comediennes That You Just Need to Get Behind!!!!” or “Women of Color That, Because of their Skin Deserves To Be Known!!!!!” And while I am sure many people mean well, a large part of this conversation seems forced and insincere. That’s kind of the side effect of the media getting a hold of something. Keep in mind that a part of me is grateful to be a female POC that is sometimes considered “funny”. PLEASE understand that. But do you see how this conversation can also be seen as negative? Putting us in a separate category because of the color of our skin? The underlying tone of these articles trying to “prove” that black women are funny? The suddenness of this “conversation” yells “See! Here’s a black girl! Here’s one! See?! See?!” I’m just- I am so tired of it. 

And I know that I am black and a woman and a comedienne but often times I just want to be known as a human doing stuff. I am so many things. I want to be known as like, a person. Not as a “trendy” topic of conversation. Put me out there with everyone else. Like- with all of the other humans. Do you get what I am saying? 

-Jessica Williams

A Note About Last Night:

Last night it was so surreal and exciting to see J.O. host the show last night. Apparently a temporary host used to happen a lot more in the good ole’ days but I’ve never seen it- I was probably off farting somewhere in my parents’ house while listening to “The Writings on the Wall”.

Anyway, the air last night at work was excited and nervous, but also like excited and nervous, but still excited and stuff. I mean, I knew Oliver could do it, but I didn’t know exactly what to expect. And he ended up being awesome and charming and sarcastic and silly and very very British. And watching someone who I REALLY look up to step up and fill in for another guy who left a VERY big role to fill was fucking inspiring. Like, on some Oprah-vision board shit. 

And I hate to sound cheesy but whatever I’m 23 and I have a severe vitamin D deficiency so I get emotional easily but doing that second act where we all razzed the shit out of J.O. felt right and was very very fun. It felt a lot like all of us were pulling together. And I don’t live by my family anymore so yesterday I got a pretty wicked case of the “feelies”.

Here’s to a great summer, my nerdz!

Hey peeps! I had a field piece air last night! In case you missed it, here it is! 

HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS I JUST REMEMBERED I HAD THIS. THIS IS ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL. Gonna keep posting these little gems until the weight of them opens up a wormhole in the world that can suck these dudes into a dimension where bros aren’t allowed to be both racist and flirtatious. HOW IS IT EVEN POSSIBLE TO HAVE THOSE QUALITIES AT THE SAME TIME? THANKS BUT LIKE, BRO AT THE VERY MINIMUM PLEASE GO EAT A BAG OF DICKS. PLEASE.




rehearsal was good. lots of stuff going on. the set looks incredible. and that’s saying a lot because it always looks fabulous. Nice to see everybody suited up and ready for action. been a long day at work. An insanely long amount of time to anticipate doing a live, half hour show. Found out that the show will be broadcasted on the jumbo-tron in Times Square. I won’t be able to see it, but like, watch out Ryan Seacrest on New Years Eve I’m coming yr ass. there’s been an absurd amount of food lying around. Some people from dunkin donuts brought us a shit ton of donuts so of course i went downstairs and really ripped them doniez a new one. About an hour until showtime. Wearing lipstick tonight because it’s a very special occasion. in an ideal world i would wear lipstick more but like, also no because that would imply a huge amount of time where i wonder if:

a. My lipstick is faded.

b. there is lipstick on my teeth.

i’ll go find some other writers to bug right about now. probably call my mom.

thank you for giving me a pass to write like this because it is a mental exercise. I appreciate you letting me take a dump on yr internet.

(p.s. Thank you for all of the love. I really, really appreciate it. And I would totally rub butts with you if it was

1. Possible. 

2. Safe.)

A Normal Day at Work:

A lot of people ask me what a typical work day is like. Here we go:

8:00am- wake up: Listen to some Aaliyah tuneage while getting dressed. Turn on Fox news. Then get mad because I’m watching Fox news.

8:45- Walk to the subway station while thinking about how hott Eddie Murphy was in the eighties.

9:15- Morning Meeting w/ the writers and Jon. Talk about what topics we want to cover. Find out I’m going to be on the show that day.

10:00- Head over to my office. Turn on Fox news. Mute it after 10 minutes because I remember that it is my nightmare.

10:15- Read the news blogs. Head on over to Michael B. Jordan’s twitter to see what he’s up to for the day. He tweets about something sort of lame like sports. Head over to Drake’s twitter. He tweets about things that are always out of context and that also seems like he is from another planet. Get annoyed that his tweets never make sense. Remember that I’m distracted and head back to the news blogs.

11:00- Field meeting where we talk about the pieces we are working on. Some people somewhere want to pass this law that is weird and unreasonable. We pitch ideas for packaged pieces and update everyone on what is going on with what we currently have in edit.

11:45- Head back to my office and call my mommy in California. She asks me if I am taking my vitamins that she sent me. I say yes, but really it’s a no because I don’t like to swallow things that taste gross.

12:30pm- Walk around the office to grab some coffee from the K-cup machine. Run into Wyatt. I reach over to high five him and he says “No way that’s lame.” Then he hands me a very thoughtful housewarming gift. A print by one of his favorite artists. It’s framed and everything. I say thank you but he’s already walking away and says, “Don’t mention it, Ding Dong.” I remind him to never call me Ding Dong and that my name is Jessica. He responds with, “I call you Ding Dong because that’s your name, Ding Dong.” Then he walks into his office.

12:45- Walk over to Sam and Jason’s office. Sit on Sam’s couch and she tells me very funny stories about her kids. Sam hands me some mint-chocolate out of her purse and asks me how my new apartment is and how my parents are doing. I tell her my apartment is lovely & that my mom sent me vitamins but I’m not taking them. Sam tells me I should probably take my vitamins because being sick and having to work is awful. I agree with her because she is Sam and not my mother. Walk out of Sam and Jason’s office feeling even better than I did when I went in. 

1:00- Two words: Catered. Lunch.  

1:30- Ugh I guess I take my vitamins.

1:55: Pet one of the dogs walking around the office. Wished that one of them belonged to me. Then remembered that I don’t like poop and have already killed several of my new houseplants. Decide, nope.

2:00- Head back to my office. Reflect on how hott Eddie Murphy was in the eighties. Think about how dope his outfits were in Raw and Delirious. Think about how those outfits reminded me of Elvis. Remember that part in that SNL book that I read where it talked about how Eddie Murphy would sometimes just watch old tapes of Elvis performing. Wonder if, by proxy this means that I also think that Elvis is hott. Decide that this is too much to think about right now.

2:30- Get the first draft of the script for the show tonight. Break down the chat. Run my lines.

3:00- Hair, makeup, go downstairs for rehearsal with Jon in the studio. A little worried because my business suit makes me look like a corporate mom. Then remember that I’m about to perform on a show that sometimes does political-butt jokes. Feel good about everything again.

4:00- Rehearsal. Talk to Jon who is in his usual good mood. He does a very goofy dance and I join in. Then, as a joke, he fakingly throws out his back. Then he tells me that I should enjoy my youth now, because one day I will become his age and I won’t be able to dance as liberally as I used to. I quietly note that when I’m Jon’s age I hope that I’m able to dance around at work and fake throw out my own back. We proceed with rehearsal. Jon gives me and writers some notes to make the chat better.

4:30- Head over to one of the editing rooms to record voice overs for a field piece I’m working on. Try to knock out the my news-anchor lady voice in one take. Do. Not. Accomplish. This.

4:45- Re-write of the first draft of the chat with the writers.

5:30- Get called into another re-write room and talk to Jon about the chat we’re doing tonight. He looks through everything and then asks me if I’m okay with the piece. I’m like, “yeah dude of course this is amazing and this is funny and you’re my boss duh.”

5:50- Backstage. Running lines. Get incredibly nervous as I make my way into the studio. Backstage I can hear the roar of the audience and the opening of the show. Starting to get some anxiety and hope I don’t mess up. Before I head out to the studio I close my eyes, put my hand over my heart and whisper: “For Eddie Murphy in the Eighties.” 

6:00- Showtime.

6:45- Change out of my correspondent clothes and think about how much my life rules. Go home to watch re-runs of Living Single and then meet some buds later at the bar on my block.

-Jessica Williams

In Case You Weren’t Clear On My Feelings About Hair:

She is wild. She is free. She is mine. And like the woman whose head she sits on she will do whatever she damn well pleases whenever the hell she wants to. I mean, how disrespectful of me to even try to keep such a wonderful and fabulous force of nature contained?

Growing up I always got scolded and teased for being a black girl that did not have permed and tidy hair. You know why? Because I HATE getting my hair done. That shit is my nightmare. Now I keep up with it somewhat because, like, I’ve got a job to do as a mature, well-spoken correspondent. But please believe that I will always wait until the last possible minute to get it done. 


Int. Hair Salon- Day

Hairdresser: It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.

Me: Yeah, well you know I hate it here so- I mean it’s no personal offense to you, I actually just like hate hair salons.

Hairdresser: Let me take a look at your head- Good God what did you do?

Me: Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Hairdresser: Seems pretty par the course. You gonna to be on t.v. soon?

Me: Yes.

Hairdresser: Ah fuck. Well, let’s get to work.


Also, there’s this: