There are a lot of phrases I have learned since starting standup oh so many years ago. Here’s some inside baseball for the lay persons out there.
“I have a rock solid 25 minutes.” Translation: “I have a decent five minutes, five acceptable minutes, then some rambling incoherence I sprinkle around those ten minutes.”
“You should do this room, the crowd buys a lot of merchandise!” Translation: “There’s no hotel and the pay is shit, but I’ll try to entice you with the false promise of merch sales.”
“I slayed that room.” Translation: “Were you at the show? No? Then I’ll tell you I slayed the room.”
“I’ve done corporate gigs.” Translation: “I once did a joke in my office break room. It was someone else’s joke.”
“That wasn’t my crowd.” Translation: “Those people were normal humans, not complete degenerates like I need for my horrific set.”
Last weekend I did a show hosted by Joe Horan called Horan’s House Party. He used to call it something else, but some group of corporate comedy scumbags threatened to sue. Suing a comic is like pissing into a hurricane; save your battles douchebags. Suing a comic is one step away from bringing class action against panhandlers.
The show was fun – marketed as comedy meets drinking game. The audience had to drink when the comics said certain words or topics. Drinking games usually go one of two ways – the people that are all in drink no matter what and other people play for about six seconds and quit. The crowd was game though. Luckily, the comics’ participation was much more limited; I’d rather not drive into the side of the Horseshoe in my upper 30’s.
I did however have to shotgun a beer with a crowd member before my set. Nothing says get ready for laughy fun times like hammering down a room temperature PBR (the show’s sponsor – thanks team Pabst). I destroyed my competition. Still got it, everyone! …and by it, I mean a drinking problem. This was the exchange after. “Did you teach your daughter that skill?” “No, babies can’t shotgun breastmilk very well.” “True, you can’t shotgun breastmilk.” “I said babies can’t, not me!” There was much laughter and I did my set stuck to the floor of the biohazard known as a house full of college guys. It went well, but I have been in quarantine for four days. I should be able to reconnect with my family once I get CDC clearance on the battery of communicable disease tests I took over the weekend. Wish me luck!
Caffeine free pop is useless. If it doesn’t have the juice, just give me a beer.
If a sporting event starts after nine, there is a 99% percent chance I will fall asleep watching it. (In other words NBA, I have a real job – start the damn game at 8)
Every six months I notice something with my body that severely disappoints me. I hurt my foot a year ago turning around, but without taking a single step. That’s a low blow.
As a comic, I write less than I did when I started, but when I do, it’s a lot better than when I was younger.
No matter what you say or do, you will be unable to keep up with music. Perfect proof – see a 55 year old DJ in action. No Diggity is the newest dance song he’s got in the holster. No doubt.
You realize half the stuff from your childhood is awful. Don’t ever go back and watch your favorite shows or movies. Leave them in 1988 where they belong. I’m looking at you, Alf. My college roommate Camp and I watched Alf on TV Land in the early 2000’s. He called his dad to apologize for making him watch it with him as a kid.
New parents: “I heard there’s something going around. Lock the doors and seal the windows. Shoot any people that approach the house.”
Seasoned parents: “I think I have the flu.” “Well, it’s your turn to watch the baby, suck it up I’ve had to pee for three hours.”
NP: “Get the organic food and clean the veggies, then steam everything. Don’t let it sit for more than 33 seconds or it’s contaminated.”
SP: “I think our kid is eating dog poop.” “Just don’t let her eat any more. Dinner’s almost ready.”
NP: “Wow, that’s a somewhat mildly stinky diaper.” (Pre-real food)
SP: “Give me the scuba mask, baby girl had asparagus for lunch and I think the poop is between her shoulder blades.” (After they start eating real food)
NP: “If anyone wakes the baby up, make them disappear.”
SP: “If anyone wakes the baby up, make them disappear and go after their loved ones also.”
– Sports talk radio call in guy. There is no more tunnel visioned person on Earth than sports talk radio call in guy. Your team loses? Screwed over. Wins? Best team in history. Lose two? Fire all coaches. Win two? Extend every contract for 10 years. Take some Prozac and a deep breath.
– Person who prioritizes outrage. Believe it or not, things can all suck. Your hot button issue doesn’t mean other things aren’t shitty too. You’re outraged a gorilla got shot. I get it. 19 people got killed that weekend in Chicago. That’s worse. but it doesn’t mean both don’t suck on some level. That said, don’t read one story a week on your favorite website and act like you’re a social activist because you put up a Facebook post about it. OK, change this category, don’t be fake social activist on Facebook person.
– “I ask questions, then shit on answers guy/gal.” Hey what pizza do you like? Sausage. Sausage?! Pepperoni is the best you weirdo! OK, then you eat it, dickhead. More sausage for me.
– Our cat. I should say my wife’s cat. I know that’s not a person, but the cat has a personality and she is pure evil. Everyday she meows and nuzzles me to get her morning food…exactly 10 minutes before my alarm is set. That’s just wrong.
I’ve heard that people used to live before air conditioning. When I see pictures of people in Latin America wearing suits in the 1800’s, I assume that there was an Ice Age going on or people were cold-blooded back then, like reptiles. There’s no way that’s possible.
This past weekend my air began faltering and I realized things were now different. I first did my will, because it would be irresponsible of me to leave my family without my final wishes. 77 degrees? I better hurry this along… I did learn some things though that may help you survive.
All you have to do is get a fan, preferably one the size of a garage door and sit directly in front of it. Then don’t move, blink, or breathe excessively. Get a cold drink and take off as much clothing as you can without scaring anyone. If none of this works, throw away everything out of your fridge and crawl in. You may die, but you won’t be hot. I think that’s a good trade off.