Month: January 2014

Not me, but I watched the show on TLC.  So much hate and sarcasm hit me the second the show started, I nearly had a stroke.  I recovered, and here’s the blog…

The show was about a bespectacled middle school mustachioed pedo creep who had an “emotional and sexual relationship” with his car.  How do you have sex with a car?  Answer?  A lot of rubbing.  Not much reciprocation either, apparently.  They say we have nothing to learn from history, but I disagree.  In 1300, a man smearing his crotch on a carriage would have been burned at the stake.  Today, it’s cool.  I feel the answer is somewhere in the middle as to how our society reacts, but after watching this show, I’m leaning 1300.

Second, this guy has a mid-90’s Chevy.  I had an 89 Celebrity.  Trust me, it’s not going to be around much longer.  Even weirder, the guy said he was straight…but his car was referred to as Chase and a male.  Is that gay?  Is that straight?  Does it matter?  I don’t know, but it’s definitely not normal to call yourself one sexual orientation and then bang something inanimate referred to in the other sex.  “I love women…but also my toaster Ralph.”  What?

Then he broke the news to his dad and his dad was pretty laid back about it.  Ah, nothing like father/son bonding.  “So son, how’s your family?”  “Pretty good, dad.  I dry humped my Lumina in my driveway then had Taco Bell.”  “Great!  See you next week!”  (Gunshot)  Is there a stake around here?

I had a couple shows Saturday that hit the wide range of the comedy scale.  Show one was hosted by my pal Sumukh Torgalkar – he came up with the idea to dress like a ref and have a “Laugh Rumble” with what turned out to be 18 comedians.  The five minute mark was marked by an air horn, then the next comic ran up to tag in.  I debated doing a character, but I’m lazy and didn’t have any (thankfully) wrestling tights laying around the house.  Nick Glaser went Hacksaw Jim Duggan with the American flag and a 2×4 and Dustin Meadows used a belt as an assault weapon and chugged a beer, ala Stone Cold.  If they combined those characters, the patriotism and masculinity might have created an explosion.  Close one, America.  Close one.

I then rolled down to a comedy/burlesque show.  In terms of theatrics, probably even more grandiose.  There was fire, costumes and dancing – the comics brought only jokes about alcoholism and genitals, but it’s for the best there is no crossover.  Most comics can only model for police lineups or before pictures.  I never knew until the show that there were male burlesque dancers.  Now I can never unlearn that, because I saw it and it’s burned into my cortex.  Thankfully, as I type this, the Grammy awards are on.  The combination of stuttering presenters and 75 year old musicians trying to stay relevant are doing their damnedest to wipe away my entire weekend’s memories though.  If they let Yoko Ono sing, it may work.

My lady bought tickets to the Ohio State basketball game, which was awesome, although I nearly had to set myself on fire to survive walking from the parking lot to the stadium.  The game itself was close, with lead changes and excitement.  Of course, the best part was people watching…as long as they didn’t interact with me.

One of my mysteries of life are people who wear the other team’s colors and go nuts during games.  There was a man to my right wearing a bright orange shirt (Illinois’ colors) jumping up and down for the Buckeyes, heckling the refs relentlessly.  I have more of problem with the bright orange shirt in general, but you would think someone going that ape for a basketball game would actually think about stuff like that.  Or it’s very Bravo channel of me to notice.

The guy behind me was OK, until a bad call caused an explosion of spit to hit the back of my neck.  Thanks, hope you don’t have swine flu.  That almost bothered me as much as the lady in the front row.  She watched the game only to take pictures and text them to her pals.  She was tweeting and chit chatting with everyone, dancing around, making a spectacle of herself.  The topper was when the high schoolers behind her brought some hot dogs to their seats, she turned around and said, “Watch out for my coat, it’s real fur!”  I was actually disappointed, because they were perfect gentlemen.  Kids these days.  I would have definitely smeared relish on her coat when she turned around.

Arby’s has one with a “famous detective” interviewing a fisherman.  On a boat – “Do you really get your fish fresh like this?”  Yes.  “Really?”  Yeah!  “Really?”  WOW.  That is amazing detective work.  “Did you kill that woman?”  No.  “Really?”  Oh God, you’ve broken me!  I’m guilty!

I saw a pet commercial showing a housecat, then shifting to a lynx.  Apparently, if you feed this cat, it turns into a dangerous predatory beast…not the best message.  Also, my dog sleeps 14 hours a day, I doubt Blue whatever is going to make him run up mountains.  Plus pushing the taste is a wasted effort.  I have seen my dog eat his own vomit multiple times.  Not much of a refined palette.

Any car commercial that shows someone getting a car for their significant other’s birthday or Christmas present relates to about 2% of the US population.  “Hey honey, I figured I’d sneak a $35,000 car past you with no trade in.  Good thing I started saving coupons from the Sunday paper last month or I might not have had enough pocket change to buy it.”

One of the worst things about being a comic in this part of the country is travel.  I took a gig with my buddy Bob Cook in Michigan.  Of course, hours before the show, 3 inches of snow hit the last third of our four hour trip.  Nothing like choosing between being behind a semi tossing nature’s excrement on your windshield or trying to pass, which means going across an icy patch of death to get to the left lane.  I also missed the exit, which was impossible to see, so I may have broken a few laws cutting across the highway.

We made the show, which I’ve done before.  The owners and staff were great, but of course, they send up free shots if you’re doing well.  No shots means you’re bombing, so you kind of want a few…until you realize there is no cab service in a town that size.  It’s OK, I’m sure the cops love out of state plates.  Damnit.

The show went very well, despite the weather keeping the crowd smaller.  Plus I sold one beer coozie after the show, so I’m super rich now.  I’ll probably go out and buy a helicopter to save time on my next road gig through a semi-blizzard.

It takes a special type of scumbag to heckle at a comedy show.  They are drunk, attention hungry unoriginal douchebags who don’t have the smarts or balls to tell jokes themselves.  The comedian aside, they also ruin the other patrons’ experience.  Lastly, most of them paid to get in and then get booted.  That’s just bad money policy.  I guess not everyone was held as a baby.

I had a show the other night.  The crowd was very good, which was impressive because they supported the comics and the burlesque dancers with equal energy.  Until my pal Justin’s set…  A drooling mouthbreathing lady decided to talk, very loudly, for no reason, about things other than his act.  The staff approached and told them if they couldn’t quiet down, they would be asked to leave.  Her answer?  “I would ask you to fuck off!”  Classy and intelligent, I see.

What happened next made my small and cold heart warm.  Justin addressed it, she kept blabbing.  “Well, I get it, she needs the attention.  She’s mildly attractive now, but it’ll disappear soon.”  She got rage pissed and her whole table ended up walking.  The beauty was that the insult appeared to be in that her looks would fade, but it was actually in the mildly attractive part of the statement.   The only amazing part is that she was genuinely surprised that she ruined the show for all parties, yet the guy with a microphone would dare interrupt her important conversation!  What a dick!  I can only hope a history of inbreeding in her family line has wrecked her ability to reproduce herself.