Frances Dilorinzo: A real housewife of Orange County

The comedian gives moms a good name.

Frances Dilorinzo caught the comedy bug in college, releasing her inner goofball through a required speech class.

Image by Frances Dilorinzo

Frances Dilorinzo caught the comedy bug in college, releasing her inner goofball through a required speech class.

by Spencer Doar

As Frances Dilorinzo spins around, the audience realizes that she cleverly tucked her hands into her shirt and her sleeves into her pants pockets, giving the illusion of gigantic breasts. 

It’s the start of a joke about homemade implants, and the desire to see the results before actually going under the knife.  The joke went viral, gathering over three million views, boosting Dilorinzo’s profile. 

Born in Michigan, Dilorinzo resides in California, and has appeared on “Secret Life of a Soccer Mom,” “Real Housewives of Orange County” and “Last Comic Standing.”   She’s been a comic for 20 years.

“‘Real Housewives of Orange County’ always seemed to cut me out,” Dilorinzo said.  “I don’t think my boobs are big enough.”

Her feelings about her figure, her unwillingness to copulate with her husband—or a police officer to get out of a ticket—how the sexes differ on the phone, all are open fodder for Dilorinzo’s effusive standup. 

“I did not come out of a dark tortured past; I actually say in my act I’m so normal I’m kind of a freak,” Dilorinzo said.  “For a while I harbored a lot of resentment because my parents have been married for 50 years, there was no drug abuse, no sexual abuse. Did they not understand I wanted to be a comedian? They taught me morals and values—really screwed me up.”

She peppers her sets with “You know”s and her beaming white smile, appearing to have the time of her life each and every set.  It would seem like a practiced affectation, if it weren’t for the fact that she’s just like that in the morning without her first cup of coffee—the coffee only aids her manic delivery and presence.    

“Unlike a lot of female comedians, I’m quite physical,” Dilorinzo said.  “I’m very comfortable getting silly—looking silly on stage.”   

She points out that there was a “more cerebral trend in comedy,” where things are funny, though potentially depressing, saddening or reflective of the audience’s own demons. 

“Comedy should be fun as well as funny,” Dilorinzo said.  “If you come to my show it’s about escaping, giving your brain a break from all the negative stuff you see on CNN.” 

It all began during a required speech class in college when her professor urged students to incorporate humor into their public speaking. 

Funny bones run in the family too: her children, ages 9 and 10, already have their own standup bit; a fact that could be the starting premise of yet another reality show.