Month: September 2011

There are a lot of strange people at my gym.  Here is a list of the loons.

Guy who talks to you, even though you have an iPod.  Why are you speaking?  I can’t hear and I’m in the middle of a set.  Lady who wears a button up sweater and jeans.  Please tell me you shower before just riding the day out with sweaty clothes.  Guy who wears a purple sweatband that is at least 15 years old.  It’s old and purple.  Here’s a dollar.  Get a new one.  Girl who wears too little.  You’re cool, continue.  Old lady who does 50 reps on every machine with no weight.  You’re 70.  Why are you working out?

Others include “my outfit completely matches, bro.”  Right down to your black Nike socks and wrist bands!  You and your hair gel annoy me.  Probably the most hateable douche except…eat food in the locker room man.  Your body can go 7 minutes without protein, veiny forearms guy.  Stop eating your tuna spread and wheat crackers in here.  Finally, that’s enough old guy who is way too cool talking to others while naked.  Put on your discolored undies and get the hell out of my zone of non-male nudity.

This phrase is said a lot at shows, but it has a pretty deep and meaningful purpose.  I did an open mike at Surly Girl in Columbus last night.  I used to do every open mike every night when I first started and I would like to do more, but the strain of working full time, plus the lateness of the shows kill my ability to do them sometimes.  Plus, as you get a solid act, it’s mentally tough to try new stuff for various sized, usually smaller crowds, that could bomb.

That said, every great comic has to figure it out.  The only way is try new material until you get some good stuff, plus all the other ancillary things.  For example, when I first started, I was so nervous, I would stomp all over my punchlines by starting a joke when laughs were still going on.  “That’s why I never get laid.”  (Laughter)  My brain immediately said -NEXT JOKE!  NEXT JOKE!  Plus I used to take a drink of beer after every semi-supposed to be funny line.  I watched my first feature set (I had put it on MySpace) and I drank a bucket of beer in 22 minutes.  That’s not distracting at all.  Or helpful for my legal driving status.  By the way, I deleted that stream due to extreme humiliation at my unfunniness in 2007.  It made me feel terrible watching it alone.

Most importantly, if there’s no audience, there’s no comedy.  I did a show early on where the bar owner was pissed that only four people showed up.  He told me if I didn’t do 45 minutes, I was not getting paid.  The bounty?  $40.  That was the longest night of Andy DuFrain’s life.  So thanks for coming out and watching me in the past and other probably not that funny or horribly awkward comics stumble around their acts like drunks during Mardi Gras.  That said, if you don’t laugh, we may attack you.

Side note – check out www.columbusisfunny.com for local Columbus shows.  Unless you don’t live in Columbus, Ohio…then I have nothing for ya, man.  Flava Flav’s got problems of his own.

The biggest/most pointless news of the week was the final release of two Americans (the other one got released earlier) from an Iranian prison after two years.  Oh joyous day!  How did they get there, pray tell?  They were hiking…on the Iraq/Iran border…in 2009.  Then they got out and trashed American prisons also – citing the Iranian guards’ propaganda.  This requires a few points.

First, who the blue hell hikes in general?  What a dumb idea.  I don’t like hiking in Ohio.  Let’s travel to a small mountain and walk around until we pull a muscle, get jean rash, contract lyme disease from a deer tick, and possibly fall off and die or lose a limb that guy in 127 Hours who sawed his own arm off with a pocket knife.  Wheee!  More importantly, who hikes in the Middle Fucking East?  To the west, Iraq, site of two American wars since 1991.  To the east, Iran, which is run by radical Islamists and a bearded midget who denies the existence of gays and oh by the way, says the Zionist state of Israel should be eradicated, due to the Jews.  Who else said things like that…oh that’s right, Hitler!

Finally, why trash America on the way out?  Have you been to Gitmo or did you take that nice religious fascist guard’s word for it as he butt stroked your sissy ass with a Soviet era assault rifle?  I’d listen to that guy, he clearly knows human rights like the back of his hand, which will be cut off if he pilfers a loaf of bread.  You know what?  You’re dumber than the chick who just had Kevin Federline’s 48th baby.  Shut your dirty hippie mouth and enjoy the free country you have so much disdain for.  (Fireworks in background, bald eagle flies overhead, craps on picture of Ahmadinejad)

All – my show at the Columbus Funny Bone show this Thursday just moved to Sunday.  Same time, different day.

I had rough run last week.  Wednesday only 9 people showed up.  Friday a table of 70 year olds wouldn’t even turn around to look at me.  I love doing comedy for senior citizens.  We have so much in common.  Saturday was the revival.  I went up, laid it out and did 32 minutes of jokes.  The front row was dying laughing, but no one else was on board and I was getting frustrated.

I left the stage, annoyed.  I listened to the headliner for a few, then hotboxed a cig.  As I came back in, I realized the mike or back spearkers were off the whole time I was onstage because everything was loud and clear.  I wasted 32 minutes of my time and the audience’s time.  Deep sigh.

Most uplifting, somehow my resume made the promo at the restaurant, not my bio.  This means anyone walking past could easily write down my home address, cell #, email address and check out my comedy references.  That’s nice.  Maybe I’ll get some home visits from psychos!  Come on in, random person from random show!  Want to stay in my guest room?  Don’t rob me blind, tee hee!

I had a show Friday night and it went well, considering I took a back way and got stuck for nearly 40 minutes for the Bowman fair.  40 minutes, staring at my steering wheel hoping against hope that these dumb hillbilly rugrats grabbed all the caramels and mints from the back of the fire truck and got the hell out of my way before I could no longer control the urge to mash the accelerator and ruin the day for the town of 22 people.

After the show, I was selling t-shirts and a rather old woman came up to me.  “You’re good, but you need to drop the joke about the retarded kid.”  I don’t do any jokes about retarded kids, but I relay a true story about an older mentally challenged man that shook his enormous penis at me.  “Yes, well that cut to my heart.  I have a retarded kid.”  I was volunteering at a field day for the mentally handicapped.  That’s not offensive, the joke is about how they don’t care if you use the word retarded…which you are tossing around liberally.  I think retarded people are great.  They’re always happy and nothing gets them down.  “Well, you need to drop that.”  I was very gracious, but as she walked away, I got madder than a nest of hornets.

One, you didn’t even listen to the joke.  If you did, you know I’m complaining about you and your PC ilk.  Plus, I said retarded is not an offensive term – you must agree, b/c you called your kid retarded on multiple occassions.  Second, when you said “retarded kid” you made it about YOU!  I never mentioned a retarded kid, but YOU threw yourself into my joke, you selfish ass.  Are you ashamed of your kid?  Regretful?  That offends me, you needy leech.  Third, I once had a guy with a retarded brother tell me that joke made him cry laughing, b/c his brother used to pull his wang out all the time.  Well, sir, you are insensitive.  This lady in Southern Ohio is offended, so we ALL need to be offended.  Fourth, I CLOSED WITH A JOKE ABOUT SEXUAL ASSAULT.  This didn’t bother you, but me telling a whimsy about a middle aged man shaking his mule in broad daylight, well, I better keep that to myself.  What could possibly be funny about that?

In summation, joke Nazi, I didn’t go to a human zoo and poke the mentally disabled with sticks.  I was volunteering (that means free community service) and helping the lugs when most people fire up Two and Half Men reruns.  Something funny happened.  You should be proud that you raised a challenging, but loving kid.  You should be able to laugh that they are different from you and me.  If you don’t like the joke, fine.  Don’t you dare make it about you.  I would be downright offended.