Month: August 2012

I emceed the open mike again.  I came to a profound realization.  Open mike comedy with pros, touring comics and vets is just like the MLB home run derby…if they let anyone swing the bat for bringing a couple fans.  “Next up, Prince Fielder.  On deck, Jimmy the parking lot attendant.  He has nine people here to see him.  He actually has a problem with relationships, may truly be on PCP, but Prince didn’t bring anyone, so deal with it.”

Last night, seven new comics brought people and that is the key.  The bigger the crowd, the better.  As a side note, though, you get a ventroloquist, a guy flopping around on the ground talking about jerking off (in front of strangers) and “edgy” jokes that are just plain racist to 99% of America.  Then I realized I get a free blog every single time someone does something moronic.  It still is weird.  Let me explain…

Last night a comic (not new, btw, but usually pretty solid) got onstage.  “Keep clapping!  If you don’t, I going to rape all of you!”  Ah, the classic get ’em on your team by threatening rape!  As if it actually happened, everyone would just stick around for the rapin’.  “I was offended, but rules are rules…I hope he finishes quickly!”  At least his material was strong.  Did I mention the other new comics?

I, for some reason, signed up for a Hell Run next month.  Over 3 miles, with something like a dozen obstacle courses.  I should probably look up the details or train or something.  I currently run or do the elliptical about five days a week so I’m sure I’ll be fine.  I also drink and the drinking is a great way to preserve my organs, plus flush my system out regularly.

I realized this race is coming up soon, so I have to fatten up my lady because I can’t lose to a woman.  I am man, damnit!  I conquer worlds (in video games)!  I build things (like my drinking game washer boards…it took me two hours to pull that one off)!  I am tough (I fell asleep on the floor watching the Olympics and couldn’t sit upright for three days)!  Now that I think about it, I fell down the last two times I went to the movies.  My back slipped out once jogging with my dog.  I pulled my groin running to first in field three softball slow pitch this year.  Well, that settles it.  I am going full Tonya Harding.  If she gets a lead, I’m going for the knee.  Does anyone know where I can score some HGH?

Once my show started, all the problems seemed to melt away.  I got some chuckles and we were moving.  What was funny, though, was the fact that every time I asked a question (classic comedy move), the students actually raised their hands and answered.  It was strange.

I asked, who in here likes sports?  A girl raised her hand and said, “I like one.”  I knew she was dying for me to ask which one, so I did.  “Cheerleading!”  Not the answer I was expecting.  Don’t you think it’s ironic, I said, that the one sport you like exists only because other sports are around in the first place?  She didn’t get it, and proceeded to tell me about competitive cheerleading until I zoned out and did the whole, “Let’s move on!”

I also asked about majors, to which I received nearly a dozen students, one by one, relaying that info back to me.  Sounds like you young adults need to know what “rhetorical question” means.  Oh well.  I also asked as a prelude to a joke if anyone had ever been really drunk and observed something so crazy, it sobered them up.  Another hand shot up – “My buddy was drunk and tried to talk to a beaver.”  I have nothing for that.  Nothing at all.  Good story.

Finally, what made me happiest was the sign up sheet outside the room.  They had a sign up list for several events.  In big, bold colors on individual signs were “PAINTBALL!” “COLUMBUS ZOO!” and yes, “WALMART!”  Ah, Walmart.  Every 18 year old’s perfect Friday night.  I brought this up and one the student guides was offended.  “It’s a great program for kids that don’t have cars!”  I agree, but putting Wal-Mart in the same category as rock climbing and an amusement park?  Come on, now.  She was back on board.  Then again, the Wal-Mart was in Appalachia.  Forget the laser tag, let’s roll.

I remember when I first started comedy, I mentioned to an open miker that I wanted to get in with my old college to do a show.  That was a huge mistake, because he asked me to book him on a “college gig” every single time I saw him for the next three years until I blew a gasket.  Well, I did one this weekend, so take that, guy I haven’t seen in 18 months!

I got to the show and of course, the event list had the wrong room down.  Once I found the correct room, there was no mike, no chairs were set up (I did that myself) and there was no sign or any normal indication of what in the hell was going on.  I secretly pined for a paid show where I didn’t have to do anything, but students walked in, ruining that pipe dream.

My favorite student was a girl who mumbled, yet asked me 20 questions. Her: “aldjflkjadl;fkj alkjflaj”  Me: “What was that?”  Her: “Is this open to other people?”  Me: “No.  I’m the comedian.”  Her: “FLKJWOEJROJFLKL”  Me: “What?”  Her: “Are you funny?”  Me: “No, I suck.  You’re probably going to be really disappointed.”  This went on for five minutes until I said I had to check something and walked out to nowhere in particular just to break the question cycle up.  Miraculously, about 25 students (I almost typed kids, but that made me sad to think I am that old) showed up and it was go time…20 minutes late, of course…in a conference room…with angry looking students staring at me, wishing they got more pizza before the show.  Comedy time, future dropouts!

– Any time a story starts off with “I woke up naked”, I’m all ears.  I have heard two this week and both were fantastic.

– Any time I see someone ordering food in front of me and it takes more than 25 seconds, I approach the level of rage that causes a stroke.  It’s McDonald’s, stupid.  It’s not that hard.  Plus I see your huge arm hanging out of the window.  You’ve been here before.

– Kobe Bryant’s wife said this week that for all the road time he is gone, she can’t be with someone who doesn’t win championships.  One, I guess only married guys can win a title.  Two, you might want to worry about something other than that…I don’t know, like your husband banging hotel employees.  You are a dunce.

– I am so bad at parallel parking, I would rather park a mile away and walk than park in front of other people.  I see your judging, old lady with the Bischon Frische.  I see you.  At least I still have a driver’s license!

– Preseason football is so exciting, then so disappointing, it’s like watching Kate Upton take her clothes off and finding out she has no vagina.

– I found out one of my pals has epilepsy recently, so for her birthday I sent her a shirt that says (in shaky font), “If you have epilepsy, clap your hands.”  I may not have a pal when UPS delivers today and yes, I am dirt…but it’s still funny to me.

The best advice I ever got doing comedy was to record my set.  There is no substitute for listening (or viewing) after the fact.  I wish all comics did this.  I emceed last night and a new comic went up.  He said “like” at least 40 times during his set.  Probably more, but I lost count.  Example: “Like, my girlfriend and I like went to Cedar Point and like, it was cool, but like I wanted to like ride the Milennium Force and she was like, no way, like I’m scared.”  It was so distracting, like, I almost like forgot about the like rides and stuff.

Of course, in fairness, I tried out a new joke.  Here’s how it happens.  I wrote this premise a few weeks ago about how no matter what opinion you have, someone will agree with you and it makes you embarrassed that you hold the opinion, because they’re so stupid.  Sunday I honed it, typed it out and walked away.  Monday I hated it and rewrote it.  Tonight I changed it again.  I did the joke and recorded it.  I was pleased…until I listened and realized it was a three out of ten.  Actually, now that I think about it, maybe I should never record anything ever again.  That was depressing.  It killed!  New hour long special coming up called “Delusions of Grandeur: How my jokes secretly suck!”  Damn you, comedy.