Month: October 2013

I have performed in Ohio more than any other state.  This is not shocking, since I live in Ohio.  Plus my car has taken an ass-whipping traveling from Minnesota to Georgia and everywhere between.  I would do every show in my basement if I got paid, but that’s not the case and I would be a crazy person…or more crazy, technically.

That said, I have never performed in Cleveland.  I apparently have as many fans in Cuyahoga County as Ben Roethlisberger.  Well, that all changes November 11.  I will be performing in the Cleveland Comedy Festival this year, competing against 48 comics for the title.  http://www.clevelandcomedyfestival.com/  There is a whole host of shows that week and it’s all found on the show tab on this very site…you should be able to figure that out, you’re already here.  Hopefully I can turn this week into something positive.  If in doubt, I can yell Lebron sucks and spike the mike down.  That would be good for top 45.  Plus this would make me the winner of every major city in Ohio’s comedy contests!  Except Toledo…and Dayton…and the Circleville Pumpkinfest comedy show.  I’ll get you someday, Pumpkinfest!

I haven’t been to downtown Cincy in a while, usually when I’m here I’m over the river enjoying a beer or twelve on the Kentucky side.  I was in town and got to enjoy the good restaurants, diverse bars and the 72 homeless panhandlers per square mile.  Holy shit, Cincy, get it together.

At one point, I went to an ATM, only to see a homeless guy pulling food out of a trash can.  We made eye contact, unfortunately, and he set up camp next to the ATM.  No cash for me today!  I came out of the garage and a man in a shabby suit, stained shirt and wearing brown boots (one pantleg in, one pantleg out) approached me.  “Hey man, my mom’s funeral had a fuse blow and we don’t know how many people were coming and I need gas money it’s in Chattanooga my wife and kids are in the car over there can I get a couple bucks for gas it’s my mother’s funeral.”  I typed it like that because that’s how he spoke.  First, there was no car over there.  Second, what does a fuse have to do with gas money?  Not sure.  Third, I have been cornered three times this morning, no thanks.  Good effort on the story, but amazingly, every other person has just run out of gas!  What a coincidence.

My time tested excuse is always, “Sorry man, I don’t carry cash.”  One guy said, “OK, can you buy me a sandwich, the store is right over there.”  Damnit!  I found the VP of sales in Homeless, Inc.  Good move, sir.  I stared at him.  “I’ve been getting hit up by everybody, sorry.”  I almost felt bad…then I walked 35 feet and a guy said, “Hey man, I just ran out of gas and…”  “NO MORE!!!”  He backed off instantly.  Now I figured it out.  Out crazy them!

I saw a lot of coverage regarding college campuses cracking down on Halloween costumes.  No longer are any references to ethnicity, even including white trash, permitted on campuses at an ever increasing rate.  I say it’s about time.  How dare someone wear a costume (definition: a set of clothes in a style typical of a particular country or historical period.  Oh wait, that’s the point) poking fun of someone who will probably never see them wearing it, unless the media scours Facebook and Instagram with their tergid hard-ons for finding news where it doesn’t exist?  With that in mind, here are more banned costume ideas.

Turd.  This is offensive to assholes, implying they stink.  Next thing you know, buttholes will strike, causing mass death from toxic shock as poo backs up in our bowels.  Ban turd costumes now!

Slutty _____.  This is clearly out of line.  Who wants to offend women who clearly have no self respect?  That’s ridiculous.  Only nuns and burkas, I say.  Oh wait, those could be ethnic.  Hmm.  Sorry ladies, only business suits with long pants, don’t want to offend anyone.

Super Heroes.  Look at all these kids, clearly offending fictional super villains.  I’m surprised the non-existent Joker hasn’t sued the unreal Batman in magicland court for a lack of fairness in the costume market.  Kids have to wear black unitards now and go as independent street performers.

There, I think that should cover it.  Good thing I’m here to set people straight.  Now excuse me, I have to put on a UNICEF sandwich board and go trick or treating as Captain Happypants.   I’ll not accept candy, only hugs and compliments.  Happy Halloween!

I went to the library the other day on my lunch to educate myself…or pick up the Walking Dead graphic novels.  They have words, so I count them as books.  I also decided to hop online and check my emails.  There was an older man exasperated talking to one the library staff, an older woman.  My inner thoughts will be expressed in ( ).

“I can’t log off my emails!  What if someone gets on here and steals my info?”  (I’m sure a 73 year old man has a shitload of relevant emails.  AARP, Viagra, Werther’s Original coupons…the chain of info is damning, for sure, if it falls in the wrong hands.)  “Well…(oh boy, this lady has no clue) did you try clicking the X?”  “That doesn’t log me out!”  She stared at him, her hand instinctively pointing at the X.  “Hmm.”  Then nothing for about 20 seconds.  “I’m sure it’s fine.  Click the X.”  I couldn’t take it anymore.  “See your name?  Click that.  Then sign out.”  (I could have helped the Somalian next to me easier than this.)

I then realized the flaw of helping a stranger as he filled my next five minutes with stories of internet fraud gone by.  He at least should have given me a Werther’s Original.  I guess I’m impressed he had email.  I gave my Grandma a 1993 unconnected desktop so she could play solitare.  She saw a story where thieves could steal your internet and freaked out, even though as I said, she had no internet connection in the entire house.  She thought they could just sneak in via magic robot energy and steal her Elder Beerman card with its $250 limit.  She also thought Mormons ran every nursing home in Ohio.  I don’t want to get old.

My fiancee flew out of town for a week, so I decided to keep a log of some of the highlights.

Day 1 – I noticed there are foods that require delicate preparation.  This is no good.  Not one can of Chef Boyardee, Hormel or Chunky Soup.  I may starve to death.  Side note: I did immediately get beer before food.

Day 3 – I did my open mike then went to see Kyle Kinane headline the Woodlands show ran by Dylan Shelton.  I’m sure at this point in the week I have forgotten something important, like feeding the dog or flushing the toilet.  Just kidding on the last one, I have been using the backyard.  It’s so liberating.

Day 6 – I have managed to eat poorly enough to wreck my insides completely.  Today, I purchased a $6 sausage pizza that feeds around five people and took half of it down.  This is the fourth time I have had pizza thus far, but I have at least added Beano for dessert.

Day 8 – Now begins the frenzied cleaning projects I have put off most of the week.  No time to blog…must clean…Wow, if I recycled my beer cans, I could probably quit working and live off the money I get from the cans.  Math wasn’t my favorite topic in school.  I now also realized I have to change my shirt when she gets back.  This one has different colored sauce stains on it.  I don’t remember eating wings…

Well, she’s coming back today and the animals are still alive (and so am I) so I think I did OK.  Good thing too, in addition to me missing her, I am out of canned meats and cheese, so I am unable to make anything other than Pop Tarts at this point.

Thanks to comedy miles beating the hell out of my car, I have had to spend some hard earned cash to keep it moving.  The latest money pit item was a control arm.  What is a control arm, you ask?  Answer – something that takes $724 to fix, apparently.  I need to learn how to fix cars myself…oh look, a beer!  What were we talking about?

I picked up the rental no problem.  Upon the return, it got stranger.  One gentlemen was trying to get a different car.  Not because of the size, fuel efficiency or something normal.  He didn’t like the color.  On a rental car.  “I’ll wait, I prefer a red one.”  I was secretly hoping he got a red car, then he accidentally drove into the Running of the Bulls and got gored repeatedly.  MOVE YOUR ASS.

After waiting behind a young lady who didn’t know who her car insurer was (that wasn’t frustrating), I finally returned the keys.  The sales rep was busy, so my new friend Brent gave me a ride back to the shop.  Brent wasn’t much of a talker.  I don’t like strangers, but it was uncomfortable riding in silence.  “Getting colder today.”  He waited about 9 seconds, then said “Yep.”  Another 8 seconds.  “Yep, maybe snow.”  Then nothing.  Five minutes passed in deafening quiet.  I had to try again because I think he was looking for a place to hide my body.  “That guy had some crazy Halloween stuff in his yard.”  Without making eye contact, he took about another nine seconds.  “Yep.”  When we pulled into the shop, I nearly injured myself getting out of the car while it was still moving and said thanks in a brisk trot.  It reminded me of my dates in high school.  One girl I took out almost lost her leg bailing out before I stopped.  Now I know what you felt like, every girl I dated 1995-2002.