I started doing comedy all the way back in 2007, not counting the one open mic I did years before. I didn’t know what I was doing. My timing sucked, I wrote way to much in the shock category and not enough in the funny category and I was very limited in what crowds I could do well in front of.
I really enjoyed comedy, when it went well and I hated when it didn’t. So I worked at it. I worked hard – I typed up every single joke I had written and rated them 1-5 to rank jokes for performances and sets. I then moved them into categories like family, drinking, clean, etc. I recorded sets on a shitty recorder I could barely hear and listened to up to a dozen times. I took shows in horrible parts of town and did every open mic, whether four people were there or forty. I worked on my timing and practiced telling jokes to my dog with a TV remote in my hand as a faux microphone, pacing around my condo like a loon. I got better.
By 2010, I had won my third comedy contest at a major comedy club. I was working for half a dozen booking agents and put 40,000 miles on my car in one year (some for work, but still). I started a website shortly after and began posting on Twitter and a Facebook fan page. I passed a feature showcase test to work at comedy clubs across the country and was even getting some headliner work.
Something most people don’t know though is how completely exhausting it is to do all this. I was blogging five times a week to get my web hits up and realized I wasn’t putting good stuff online. Most of my blogs still are written off the cuff and very late the night before. I have had to work full time, 40-45 hours a week or more the entire time, plus traveling on weekends for one night gigs that barely pay gas, missing time to catch up on house projects, watch the game with your buddies or just recharge your batteries. I used up all my vacation for three years traveling to gigs. You get to the city and the bar forgot to book your hotel room. The crowd doesn’t like you, but the other comic who sings parody songs kills it and you hate everyone. Your GPS can’t find the gig and you have a stroke trying to get there on time. Oh and the whole time you’re supposed get Facebook likes and retweets on Twitter, after all, that’s supposed to be important. Oh and the booker that said they could use you hasn’t returned your last five calls or ten emails. Sometimes you get shows booked and have to go on when you don’t want to. My first ever comedy club hosting week? My grandpa passed away. I went onstage the day after the funeral and had to act like I was happy to be there.
That’s a long way to go, but this week, some insignificant internet troll decided to attack me on Twitter. No profile pic, no name, no info, because he or she is such a brave warrior that hides behind a fake identity like a nipple baby. I’m not looking for sympathy, trust me and I am actually pretty sure it’s another comic, which is even more pathetic (they went after another comic also in the past with this profile and another one that hit us both a few months back).
I could have blocked them, reported them or ignored them, but I’ve worked too damn hard and put up with too much shit to lie down and take it, so I went after it. If you care to see it, check me out at chriscoencomedy on Twitter. Or not. In all honesty, I’m too tired and have a family and a job, so I don’t spend 3 hours a day working on my Twitter game or posts for my Facebook fan page (search Chris Coen, it’s the one with the caricature picture). If you like a laugh, I always try to be funny and try to post to both once a day. If you don’t like my humor, don’t check it out. I appreciate those that follow me and don’t give a red shit if you don’t. It’s free either way. If I worked through lunch, came home and did two loads of laundry, balanced my checkbook and then put a mildly funny post or tweet at 11:00 pm, I’M SORRY I RUINED YOUR LIFE. Also, no one gets booked from Twitter likes. Hate to break it to you, worm.
And to the person trolling me, and other good comics, while being a vag boy, I will just say this. If you are such a great humorist, why do you have one follower and zero likes on anything? Do you have a real profile? One thing you learn about wrestling a pig in the mud, after a while you find out the pig likes it. Be a big boy and show your identity or sulk back behind mommy like you’re used to doing your whole pathetic life.