Year: 2014

One of the perils of adulthood is that tasks come up where one has to make the decision – pay someone or do it yourself.  I am unskilled in most things, but I have yet to make a million dollars from comedy, so I choose the latter.  At rate things are going, this will be the case until 2311, when a million dollars will take three gigs to get due to hyperinflation.

My headlight went out, so I popped the hood.  Then I remembered whomever designed my car is a sadistic sociopath and I have to take the entire front bumper off just to change the bulb.  I looked at Youtube for tips and the first video was a seven year old doing it.  Well, now I have no damn choice.  Two hours later, I had sliced my knuckles open, broken three plastic pieces I hope aren’t important and went through three entire metal albums just to change a headlight.  One more headlight issue and I’m pulling insurance fraud to get a new car.

Last night, I cleaned the sump pump.  Before I moved into my wife’s house, I had never seen a sump pump.  Online, a guy showed me how to clean it.  The difference was that the one he cleaned was pristine, well lit, and accessible.  Mine was tucked in a dark corner and looked like Swamp Thing’s bowel movement.  I had to go so far as too cut the sleeve off my old King Cobra malt liquor tee to cover my face.  I could almost hear my wife, “No!  Not your 1998 King Cobra shirt!  It’s my favorite!”  Sorry, dear, I know it’s your favorite shirt of mine, but sacrifices must be made.  Sadly, I have a lot of experience cutting sleeves off.  Maybe I should make a Youtube video.

I got it cleaned and now I play the waiting game.  What will burn out or need DIY next?  If my wife sees a seven year remodel a kitchen, I am screwed.

My hair has never been on the cutting edge of style.  I had the side part for years, then one time I found some mega gel in my sister’s room and tried to style it.  I put so much in, it began flaking like dandruff when it dried as soon as I got to homeroom.  I then did the free haircut, which meant I had a high and tight for a decade.  I let it grow and found out it was curly, which means I haven’t combed my hair since.  Sweet.

I got my hair cut yesterday.  It was great – hot neck shave, no one in line, the conversation stuck to football so I didn’t have to delve into personal matters with a stranger…until it was over and he began to comb my hair up and back like I was one of the Jersey Boys.  I immediately rubbed it normal in the car.  The last barber I went cut my bangs uneven and dropped an n-bomb for no reason.  I don’t even remember how he styled it.  Hearing a random racial slur will do that.  I’ll stick with the recent barber.  The worst style though, is when the “stylist” decides to blow dry the front in a teased ball like I’m a 55 year old lesbian.

I have some advice.  I came in looking like a guy who hasn’t put product or comb to his hair since 1999.  Let me leave the same way, Vidal Sassoon.

Fantasy Football is Dungeons and Dragons for sports fans.  It’s also the longest sports bet you can do.  “Here’s $20 – now I’ll see you in five months if I win.”

If you’re watching a show asking if Bigfoot or the Loch Ness monster, I’ll ruin it for you – they aren’t going to prove it by the end.  If they had proof, it would be on the news and internet long before the show was done.

The Hallmark Channel depends more on Christmas season for profit than Best Buy and Walmart combined.  I peeked at the lineup of movies – there are more bad 80’s actors on the Hallmark Channel than in rehab right now.

College football used to have a national champion picked before the bowls.  Then it was after.  Then the top 2 played in a BCS championship.  Now four make a playoff.  Everyone still bitches no matter what.  In the future, college football teams will play three games, then 144 teams will make a playoff and people will burn down a campus when their team narrowly misses the cut at 1-2.

 

When I was in college, sadly longer ago than I prefer to admit, I had some clashes with authority.  My fraternity got a $1000 fine for blaring speakers too loudly and I was able to whittle it down to some community service with my brilliant defense in the esteemed court of New Concord, Ohio (population 1,707).  I also battled the school, overturning an alcohol violation with an even more genius oration.  OK, two of the professors couldn’t make it and I knew the students on the judicial board, but whatever.  I’m basically Perry Mason, if Perry Mason only took cases involving binge drinking.

I had a college show this week at a small college in Columbus.  I have done the show before; it’s on the third floor of a rec center.  They usually serve beers, so I went to grab one.  I was informed that they only had them downstairs this time by the pasta cook, a young, rather effeminate fellow.  Thanks, I said, and walked down the stairs.  I got a couple beers and the young lady told me since I was doing the show, I could take them back upstairs no problem.  As soon as I walked in, my once helpful friend in the kitchen rushed out.  “You can’t drink those here!  You have to go back downstairs!”  Umm…didn’t you tell me to go downstairs and get them?  “Yes, but you have to drink them down there!  It’s against the rules!”

2000 Chris would’ve chugged the beer, smashed the bottle on the ground and kicked over the trash can, but I’m proud to say I’ve really matured.  I said, “You’ve got to be shitting me.”  Then I walked around the corner and pounded the beers in the hall leading to the stairs, refusing to walk down again.  It’s not as exciting as old me, but old me probably would’ve been cuffed and stuffed about 15 minutes later, so it’ll have to do.

When I first started comedy, all I heard from other comics is that I had to be on MySpace.  I didn’t even have the internet at home, so I was unprepared for my first foray into social media.  I soon learned about fake friend requests (wow, this girl sure is wearing a slutty outfit…who is she friends with?  77 teenage boys.  Delete request.)  I also was exposed to the MySpace page themes that constantly crashed.  HOW WILL EVERYONE KNOW HOW MUCH I LIKE BUD LIGHT?  DAMMIT PAGE THEME!

MySpace was pretty good at first, but the whole “top friends” thing was the worst.  I used to get messages from people asking why I didn’t have them in the top whatever.  I ended up changing my top to about 40 people just to get everyone to shut the hell up.  I think putting together my bottom friends would be easier.  17 game requests?  You’re the worst – congrats!

Everyone I knew took part in a mass exodus in 2008ish and I soon forgot about MySpace.  My pal Dan pointed out I still had a link to it, which was humorous to me…until I went to my old page.  Holy shit, I had about 40 minutes of comedy online and it was awful.  I watched some old sets.  I made it through five and deleted the entire account before one more person had to watch me curse every 2.3 words and chug six beers in a 17 minute set.  For anyone that came to see me in 2007, you should get a purple heart or you are a sick, sick human being and you need a lot of help.  When I overcome the shame of watching myself, maybe I’ll blog about it.

I spent the weekend in Detroit with my wife, who had to work.  This gave me some free time to explore the magical wonderland that is downtown Detroit.  What’s underrated are the restaurants.  The food here is really good and there are plenty of options.  I was impressed.  This is called the compliment sandwich.  Compliment, criticism, then I have to think of something else positive at the end.

On the way to dinner, I witnessed a drunk homeless guy being held up by another homeless guy.  He fell down twice, so on the way past, I helped him up.  He then fell down a third time.  Then another homeless guy started yelling at them and they hustled away at about three miles per hour.  As a side note, I noticed some homeless guys like to yell a lot.  Those are the ones that scare me.  Anyone can ask for change, but the ones that scream in the middle of the street are legit off kilter.  I checked my  pockets to make sure it wasn’t a ruse to rob me, then washed my exposed skin completely before eating.

I got to hit the casinos, which still allow smoking.  I forgot what a treat that is until a lady in a wheelchair with four inch long fingernails blew three Capri 100’s directly into my face for an hour at the Blackjack table.  Her pinpoint accuracy was impressive.  I spent the next hour and a half looking for Febreeze on a Friday night.  I didn’t find any, so I bought two overpriced air fresheners from a ghetto pharmacy and made my clothes smell like a lavender ashtray instead.

I then saw one street was done up in beautiful lights.  This one was my favorite.

In fairness, Detroit really has a nice theater, sports stadiums, restaurants and hotels downtown, you just may run into some guy shuffling down the street screaming at the wind.  Plus I won $15 playing Blackjack, so I’m pretty much ready to retire to my Tuscan villa soon.  Thanks, motor city!