Month: November 2014

I partook in the Great Debate again this year, which is a great fundraiser run by the Rotary Club in Hilliard, Ohio.  Four pro-Michigan debaters battle four Buckeye debaters to see who can win the argument before “the Game.”  Since it’s in the greater Columbus area, guess who always wins.  This year, I was asked to take on the role of closer for the Michigan Wolverines.  I duct taped a vomit bag to my chin and began writing.

It’s a task beyond the fact I like Ohio State – Michigan is 5-6 right now.  They’ve lost a player due to domestic violence, their athletic director got canned, and if their coach doesn’t get fired, I’ll shave a block M in my ass if he makes it through the year.  I thought of some really good jokes about useless the team is this year, then I remembered I’m on that team in the debate.  However, from doing comedy, I have learned to enjoy being hated by the crowd at times and it’s a fun challenge, so I was happy to do it and will be doing it again next year also.

Here’s the audio link – hopefully video is coming soon, but this is what I did this year.

Here’s the link for next year’s event.  https://www.localevelevents.com/events/details/694

Comedians are supposed to relate to everyone or bring up points that people wish they had thought of – as long as they get laughs.  Current events often bring a slew of jokes to open mikes, clubs, bars and the like, but the more serious the event, the riskier the joke attempt.  I hate to blog about serious stuff anymore, because after all, my website lamely says “comedy” in the  URL, but the Ferguson business has made it impossible for me to blog about anything else today.

Some of my friends have pumped my social media feeds with things about how vile cops are.  I have noticed that most of my friends (in fairness, mostly white) who don’t like cops are probably doing something illegal.  Example – “These cops keep pulling me over when I drink!”  They’re supposed to, dumbass.  I know, because I was that guy when I was younger, complaining that I was being harrassed.  What a tool I was.  Cops put their lives on the line to protect us.  Granted, there are dick cops and they are very poisonous as they can strip your freedom away…but so can scummy politicians, judges, lawyers, government officials, powerful business leaders…you get it.  Can we stop with the all cops are Satan posts?  A lot of cops get killed in the line of duty – just roll down a highway sometime and realize the name of that lonely stretch of road named after a trooper or cop is a human.

Calm down, those on the other side of the issue – if you think the fact that Michael Brown stole some Swisher Sweets makes him a justifiable homicide, you’re useless.  Does it help his perception after this tragedy?  Nope.  Does it justify it?  No way, and I’m exhausted with people thinking it does.  If he assaulted the cop, that’s straight up crazy (if that’s what happened), but yet again, doesn’t ease the blow for his mom.  Something to think about – a man died, whatever the chain of events.

Finally, I’ll wager about 99.9% of the douches that foul social media with incendiary posts about how blacks are violent by nature or white cops are out to kill minorities didn’t sit on the grand jury, take any legal courses, hear the eyewitness accounts, or even care about the facts.  I will bet most made up their minds before the facts even came up.  Sad.

Whatever happens, I won’t be touching this one at all.  It sounds like a mother lost a son and a cop that decided to tell a guy to get out of the street will have a target on his head forever, while the media rakes in the ratings and the commentators and shit stirrers rake in the cash watching the town burn.  Last I checked, no matter what your politics or race, we are all just trying to pay our bills, enjoy the company of family and friends and perhaps drink a cold beer at the end of the day.  Perhaps we should cut out the horseshit, flip off the 24 hour newstream and quit being dicks to groups of people we’ve never met.  Well, that was sanctimonious and now I’m the pretentious POS.  Oh well.

One of life’s biggest deceivers is memory.  I fondly remember TV shows from my youth, like Alf.  It was basically a shitty Rodney Dangerfield knock off, but in alien form and he tried to eat the cat all the time.  When it came on TV Land when I was college, it was so bad my roommate called his dad and apologized for making him watch it on the one family television.

It was a terrible TV night the other night so I busted out the Wii and went through old games.  I found Excitebite and eagerly purchased it.  I drove through three boards and there was no excitement to be had.  I tried Ninja Gaiden and couldn’t get past the second board.  Finally, I went over Super Mario and had a game over in about 16 minutes.  I realized while I’m doing this, I have a Playstation 3 in the basement shaking its virtual head.

OK, so maybe those weren’t as fun as I remember or I have lost the patience and skill I had as a ten year old.  The more I thought on it, I remembered that I used to have about 28 hours of video game free time on an average weekend in the late 80’s.  I was probably much worse back then, but it was either keep plugging away at video games or read my sister’s copy of Ramona and Beezus for the eighth time.  No wonder I was better.  I even beat Bible Adventures about six times.  It was a game where you ran around as Noah and picked up cows and tossed them in an ark.  I haven’t brushed up on Genesis for a minute, but I’m pretty sure Noah wasn’t military pressing livestock while jumping over a snake pit.

Nothing will invoke the rage of strangers like playing blackjack wrong.  I was enjoying a game the other night when a guy at my table was lighting up the dealer.  He got at least ten blackjacks in an hour – good for him, bad for everyone else, since he was blowing the table up.  The house would show a ten, he had a 13 and would stay.  Next hand, he had a 12, hit, got a 2, then stayed.  This would be smart, if the dealer stuck at 13.  They don’t, but if anyone finds this casino, please let me know, I’ll drive to Alaska to gamble there.

Erratic play is one thing, but being a table douche is worse.  The guy who is drunk and can’t focus, the player that asks the dealer what to do every hand…once I had a person at my table ask the dealer if they should hit on a nine.  21-9 = 12.  There is no 12 in the deck.

The number one ass of all time?  A guy came to my table and laid out $75 in ones.  The dealer had to count them out one by one to get his chips.  It took over ten minutes.  The second he got his chips, his cell rang.  He began talking, which is a no no at the table.  The dealer stopped the hand and told him so.  He got up and left, never to return.  I hope the call was to tell him his car was getting repo’d because his payment was one dollar short.

Some comedians make the leap to booking shows to make sure it is run the way they want, get stage time, or make some money.  I used to run a couple different shows – one was at a an Elks Lodge, one at a Moose Lodge, one at a bar that was a strip club the other six days a week.  In other words, I’m an expert.  (No one is buying it…)  I am here to tell everyone how to run a perfect comedy show.

1) Make sure the sound equipment works.  Then pray the band the night before doesn’t steal the cords, spill a beer on the soundboard, or break the mic stand.

2) Promote the show on social media, local papers, by calling your friends, getting radio time and distributing flyers.  Then remember that the favorite local sports team has a playoff game or watch as a freak snow storm comes in.  Poop.

3) Book good comics and make sure the emcee (if not you) runs a good show.  Then sit back and realize the bar wants to delay the show 45 minutes because the owner’s buddies are late, which pisses off the people already there.  Watch as the emcee forgets to light people or does seven minutes between comics, one of whom decides to try new stuff at a paid show.  Lastly, the owner’s buddies whom you delayed the show for are drunk and are mad that someone is taking away the spotlight. They begin heckling, no matter how well the show was going.

4) Against all odds the show is a smash hit.  Then the venue’s owner gets sent to jail for tax evasion or drugs and you start all over.  Then you should learn to sing or juggle.

One theory about drunks is that they are children, just older and horny.  I think I witnessed this at last night’s show.  I arrived before the open mike portion was over and a guy in a Marlins hat was yelling at the bartender that he had some important knowledge to tell him.  This went on for about two minutes until he gave up or forgot this crucial message.  He must have lost focus thinking about how long he’s been a die hard Marlins fan, like everyone in Ohio.

Then two very intoxicated ladies came up and virtually screamed how much they like comedy, then proceeded to yell talk through the rest of the show.  Big fans, indeed.  What happened next was classic.  A younger gentleman decided to buy these hens some shots, but leaned in first.  The bartender then made some bottom shelf $1 shots – smoothness!  Get credit, but don’t waste that sales bonus from selling the scratch offs last month.  They tossed down the shots like they were trying to forget the 2000’s and didn’t pay him a second’s more notice.

Finally, I went up and did my time.  I probably could’ve done better doing my shorter material right out of the gate, although it went OK.  After the show, Marlins fans yelled, “Now it’s my turn!” but his friends had bailed, so no one heard him but me and the dozen that stuck around that late.  He realized this and left, presumably to ram his car into the side of a Taco Bell.  Then a drunk girl on crutches started yelling at a patron and the bartender.  I wanted to tell her that her future former husband just left, but I passed.  I have to get home before that drunk ass shuts down the road with an accident.