Month: July 2012

About six years ago, I made one of the dumbest decisions of my life.  No, not starting stand-up, it was buying a motorcycle.  I had always wanted one, but I made two mistakes.  One, I knew nothing about them and two, I am a dumbass.  I got a great deal from a buddy, but he asked me if I had ridden one before.  To this day, I don’t know why, but I said yes.  Probably to save face or perhaps I was counting the one time I rode a dirtbike 15 feet.

There I was, ready to try out my new ride…a 750cc street bike.  It was like never hadden ridden a horse, I decided to jump on a shark or Chimera.  Visions of street races, slutty chicks with their thongs hanging out and a life of general danger racing through my brain, I sat on it for a test ride.  I went into first gear, then pulled my wrist back slowly and released the clutch…and killed it.  Five times.  It was rather embarrassing, so I gave the gas the sixth time and watched as the raging beast flew out from underneath me and over a curb.  Yes, I had wrecked a bike standing still.  Shit, now I have to buy this thing.

I got it, but didn’t touch it for a year, realizing I was no match for a 350 lb. machine that went from 0-60 in 3 seconds.  I finally got filled with shame enough to mount my iron steed once more.  I got it going and it was the best 5-7 seconds of my life.  Then I had to turn.  I leaned into a patch of sand and cinder and went down, not helped by accidentally hitting the throttle.  The bike somehow went up over my body, ripping the helmet off (the only smart move I made) and crashing into a hill.  Sadly, this all happened in my own parking lot.  Look at me now, ladies!

As the male nurse scraped rocks out of my arm later with a wire brush pre-stitches, I realized I am an idiot (again).  The walk of shame with the bike, defeated, was nearly as bad.  Worst was the huge hit I got selling it on Craig’s List as it sat there, mocking me until some hilljack swooped it up, ready to refurbish it and sell it to a real man.  Sigh.  You know what…I’ll feel better if I buy a firearm!  Tune in next time for another horrible yet to happen regrettable story!

Yes, another emcee spot at the ol’ open mike.  There was a bevy of new talent/crazies last night.  I got there early and one guy claimed he was on BET, another did a mom is my roommate joke, but my favorite was this guy.

He showed up and went onstage.  No idea what age, but probably upper 20’s.  High shorts, oversized silk Hawaiian shirt, and ballcap.  He ran around the stage like PCP was free with every drink.  He also did three horribly racist jokes, including “This is my impression of the Yellow Pages – I can’t turn the page, I have chopsticks in my hand.”  I nearly hit the floor with shame and laughter at the awkwardness.

Upon returning to the mike, I said – “That guy reminded me of the 80’s, one for his love of Magnum P.I.’s wardrobe and two his love of cocaine.”  It got a solid laugh, but the next comic Zac topped me.  “That guy looks like a dad in a movie that switches places with his son to do stand-up.”  Nice.  He left before the end of the show, which is bad for future blogs, but good for his family’s pride.

I was digging through my embarrassingly large collection of tees tonight and found my tye dye “Beach Party 1998” shirt.  The fact I own a tye dye shirt probably is causing a stroke in someone, since my hatred of stinky hippies has been well established over the years.  You’re 65, you’re not fighting the man anymore, jackass.  Take a shower.

The nostalgia was washed away by the sadness of realizing that party was over 14 years ago.  I drank from 11 am to 4 am (thanks, Ripped Fuels!) and did donkey kicks on the roof’s edge to mess with my buddy, not realizing this is how horrible frat stories start with the ending, “Then they shut the house down.”  I was nuts before I got in, so suck it man!  Shit, now I sound like a hippie.

We had other fun ones, like “It’s 3 am, do you know where your girlfriend is?” and “You may not like us, but your girlfriend does!”  We were very original, obviously.  Ah college.  I remember the douches who wouldn’t pay dues, steal beers, and raid the kitchen for their own houses, but had every fraternity shirt!  Even more memorable are the shirts, mugs, and other frat items that I would still have, but some klepto sorority tarts pilfered from my room while I shot pool.  One young lady even turned me in to Student Life because I “stole” a mug off her…which she had stolen from me three years earlier.  How did I know?  I had written my name on the bottom.  Guess what tramp got the patented Chris Coen house ban?  That’s right, thief.  Cry and scream it’s not fair while 120 people party just through that door…the tears…they make me stronger…ha ha ha ha! (arms extended, head tilted back, lightning and smoke)

Me and my comedy pal Bob Cook were on “Good Day Columbus” to promote the Julie Speer benefit show Monday morning.  I was a little nervous, one because I knew I had to be squeaky clean and two because I’m so good looking, I was worried the hosts would fawn over me like a fat kid praises a candy bar on his birthday.  We weren’t really prepped, which makes sense as we doing a three minute spot.  Not exactly pulling all resources in…

We were ready to roll, when one of the hosts asked what it was like living in L.A.  Hmmm…I’ve never been to California…  I was dumbfounded when Bob said, “Yeah!”  Here we go!  He made a joke about living under a bridge, I tried to make a reference to being from Zanesville.  Undaunted, she then bulldozed the point and asked us more about L.A.  Now it’s getting awkward.

A few more L.A. retorts and then they asked us about Scientology and TomKat, of which I care nothing about.  We plowed through and then got to the guts of the benefit show.  Finally, a little structure!  The credits were rolling when one of the hosts said, “I may go!”  The other – “Yeah, could be fun!”  As the details went up on the screen, Cali Lady said, “I’m not going.”  Thanks for the support, Hanoi Jane.  Unbeknowest to the audience, Bob started rubbing my shoulder as I caressed his thigh.  When in doubt, go for heteros acting gay.  It was over before it started.  Well, back to L.A. for me.  I have some power deals and scripts to peruse.  Columbus clearly isn’t ready for Hollywood Coen.

Anyone in Central Ohio – today I will be promoting (with Bob Cook) the Julie Speer benefit show tomorrow on Fox 28’s “Good Day Columbus” around 9:30-10 am.  The show is tomorrow and for a great cause – www.columbusfunnybone.com for details.  I like to think once they hear my deep and sexy voice, a new career in television and radio will instantly bloom.  Of course, when I accidentally toss a nice four letter word into my discourse, it will all end.  More updates coming soon – I’m sure I will blow it with sucks for me, but makes a good blog at least.

There were too many I found out, but here is my tribute to whomever invented, or has ever contributed to, air conditioning.  Thank you, mostly for the coolness, but also for the lack of body odor (I’m pointing at you, balls and armpits).  How did people live before this?  Answer – they did horribly boring things like read books.  I ain’t gots to read no books nohow, I haves the internets.  Take that knowledge!  Seriously, when you’re wearing a full suit and it’s 99 degrees out, you sit under a tree, pray for breeze and read a book.

Even to break it down further, the sheer necessity for deodorant and Gold Bond is overwhelming.  I can’t walk to my car without the cool dryness of Gold Bond powder, let alone if I’ve been farming all day.  Maybe that’s why people died at 51, they were too damn hot and stinky.  “You have the pox, Ephraim.”  “Eh, let me die.  It’s early May and my yambag is already stuck to mine leg.”  “Good point.  Now excuse me while I knock up my wife who has never shaved anything, but in fairness, I don’t know what toothpaste is.”  Old time stuff sucks.