Author: Chris

If I turn on Netflix and pick “Kids”, I can get about seven or eight dozen puppy movies on a bad day.  The puppies generally cause some shenanigans (food knocked over, someone falls down, the town event is ruined – especially watch out if you’re a snooty rich person; they are guaranteed to have a plate of food flipped onto their fancy clothes.)  It’s actually much different.

We have had our pup for over a month now…I think.  Here’s a puppy’s day, in summation.  Wake up, go outside, eat.  Then bite, bite, chew, chew, bite, bite, get yelled at for biting, chew, chew something you’re not supposed to, go back to biting, break owner’s skin, get yelled at but with curse words, go to back door and pee on floor – then bark to go outside.  Nap.  Wake up, bite, bite, chew, chew up DVD, get yelled at, stranger comes over so act really cute, then chew up socks, bite, bite, bite, really get yelled at with more obscenities, eat, drink, go to back door every ten minutes and drive owner insane because he thinks you’re peeing on floor again, bite, bite, sleep.  Repeat the next day.

My wife took the stage last night in the “Better Half” show at Shadowbox – part of Tuesday with Mak & Winks (shadowboxlive.org/shows/tuesdays), hosted by Tom Plute.  The show was born of Tom’s idea that it would be a riot if the wives/husbands/etc. of comics did their significant others’ material.  For my part, I didn’t have to do anything!  Well, except the following…

This was actually harder than if I did it myself.  I had to write the material (already done).  That was easy, but then I had to type up every single word and email it to my wife.  Sounds easy, except the fact that she went full literal on me.  “You typed first off on this part of the joke, then later in the joke you list four points and say first.  It says first twice.”  Yes, I was in a hurry to get the material to you, just change one of the words, it’s not relevant to the joke.  “I need you to type it exactly.  Also, didn’t you say this joke differently?  Didn’t you say this part of the sentence before the this other part?”  Sigh.  Can I just do the show?  That would be easier.

Once the show started, it went very well.  I don’t know what was funnier, the material of the side comments from the better halves about their significant others’ material.  Hope did even better than I expected, especially since she didn’t get much practice time.  Having a kid that refuses to sleep isn’t the best comedy assistance.  I would post the video, but I don’t have the bandwidth to do so…and she may stab me, so we’ll see if I can figure out a way to do it.

Afterwards, I asked if she had fun.  “Just at the end.  (Because it was over)”  I told her she just needs to hit about 50 open mics and work out the stage jitters and was met with a slew of sarcastic comments.  Looks like I’ll be the only comic in this house going forward.  Good thing I make millions a show because the depressing thing is until last week we had the same of amount of shows this month and I booked it myself.  Comedy is great.

Let’s face it, there are probably 5000 Super Bowl reviews right now.  The game, the halftime show, the commercials…let’s talk about something else that deserves a look – the new XFL doc on ESPN.  It’s worth a view.

The XFL remains, to this day, the last challenge to the “big four” – NFL, NHL, MLB and NBA.  It lasted exactly one season.  The XFL was the brainchild of Vince McMahon, the CEO of WWE and then got backed by Dick Ebersol, the most successful television producer in history.  It was known for innovative marketing, sexed up cheerleaders and one other small thing – the worst football you’ve ever seen.

The opening game got the highest Saturday night ratings in over a decade when it came out; over 50 million viewers.  I remember I went to a buddy’s in Youngstown that weekend; we were supposed to bar hop/get shot (what else are you going to do in Ytown?), but we stayed in over my objections to watch the XFL.  I wanted it to be good.  It started after the Super Bowl, it was supposed to be more violent, more sexy and more entertaining.  The game was a hot turd with fireworks and inappropriate camera angles of cheerleaders.

Looking back, it was doomed.  The players didn’t even start practicing until less than two months before the season started, the football was so shiny and smooth that quarterbacks couldn’t throw it, and the week 2 game blacked out for two minutes because someone forgot to gas the generators for the broadcast equipment.  By week 3, it was becoming obvious as the ratings sunk faster than my interest in the band Velvet Revolver that this league was in serious trouble.

The bad product was number one why the product failed, but the second reason was tradition.  Most people start watching football as a kid with an older sibling or parent.  It’s hard to generate that.  “Hey son, let’s watch the New York Hitmen battle the Memphis Maniax!”  “Who?”  “Good point.”

Ultimately it failed and McMahon shrugged and bought the WCW.  They did leave a great legacy of camera work and player access (the skycam and mic’ing players was their idea), plus they are the only sports league that had a hot tub full of strippers wearing bikinis in the end zone during a game (yes, that really happened).  The documentary was very entertaining, plus it reaffirms my number one belief in sports: Bob Costas is a smug ass.  The self-righteous imp inserts himself into the documentary as this holier than thou guru of all that is sports and makes you wish the league took off just to prove him wrong.  Oh well, more reason to dislike the king of the inspirational story.  I dare you to watch the Olympics and not have Bob Costas blather on about a Latvian curler born with a club foot or an Indonesian swimmer that survived a Kraken attack at sea to overcome adversity and leave you with the feeling he pumped his fist in joy when he found the tale, knowing he could use it to make himself look more important than the actual person involved.  (I don’t care for Bob Costas, in case you can’t tell).

Comedians don’t ask much from the crowd – 99% of us are attention craving lunatics who do jokey time because therapy is expensive.  There are just a few simple requests we have for comedy fans.  We appreciate you coming out, we like to entertain you.  Just a few small things though.

Please talk to us – just not as we are walking up to the stage, while the other comics are performing, during our set or while we are selling stuff afterwards (more on that later).  OK, only talk to us before the show or after, basically.  I was on a show once and a guy leaned over to me while my friend was on.  “Is she funny?”  I pointed to the stage, not saying a word so as not to interrupt.  My pal said one sentence and he leaned back over.  “Hope you’re better than this.”  Well, you listened to one sentence, so I hope you give me at least three – I may have a paragraph that will grab you.

DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES body block the crowd after the show while I’m selling shit.  I have had countless times a drunk guy has walled off the exit and told me I was funny, then proceeded to tell about me about other comics they like while dollar bills are just running out the door.  There is NOTHING worse than that – I would rather be heckled.  “Oh wow, please tell me about other comics better than me you saw four years ago, while my gas money is being set on fire with every passing guest.”

For the love of God, don’t ask me how to get into stand up, then ask for advice on jokes.  Do a show, then I know I am not wasting time.  “How do you fly a helicopter?”  Are you a pilot?  “No, man – but I’m thinking about it.”  Then come back when you get into flight school.

Don’t invite me to your trailer to watch dirty movies, then call me gay for not going with you.  This actually happened to me in West Virginia.  “You’re funny.  We should go drink some beers.  My trailer isn’t far – we could watch some pornos and drink beers.”  Um, sorry, I have a long drive.  “What?  You don’t like seeing naked women?  Are you a fag?”  Yes, huge homosexual.  (He walked away, stunned.  I was equally as confused.)

Last request – enjoy the show.  I’m not everyone’s favorite comic, but I’ve done over a thousand shows in front of thousands of people for almost a decade.  I can make you laugh if you quit talking at the table, put your phone away and don’t go in pissed off at life.  And if you still hate me, there’s a completely different person on before and/or after me.  Relax and get your money’s worth.  Don’t buy a ticket to a comedy show and not pay attention, you can not pay attention for free anywhere else.

That’s about it for now.  Thanks for coming out.  Hope you enjoyed the show.  Don’t wall off my merch table.  Watch your skin flicks by yourself.  We’ll get along just fine.

I did a show this past weekend to help raise funds for Foxfire Schools in Zanesville.  They are a school for at-risk kids and have no playground currently.  OF COURSE NO ONE HELPED ME WITH MY DAUGHTER’S PLAYGROUND!  I’m kidding, sort of.  Just still have night terrors from putting that one together.

It was at the Masonic temple, which I actually had never been to in my whole life, even though I’m from the Ville.  I saw a line for the elevator and thought, “Meh, I’ll walk.”  I didn’t know it was on the sixth floor.  That was a mistake.  I didn’t know there was anything in Zanesville with six floors.  I nearly crapped out and died on the fifth floor.

The show went very well, even with two local comics with three total stage appearances between them.  Never underestimate the power of a home team crowd and the lack of fear from bombing before!  I bombed hard for a solid four straight shows at one point when I first started; kind of dulls the shine from being new.

The best part is that the Foxfire staff helped raise over $10,000 for a playground for kids that have been through horrific situations.  Believe it or not, sex trafficking and drug addiction even for some; the playground is sorely needed for kids that have been through so much crap already in life.  Plus there was beer and extra pizza, so my fat ass was appeased.  If I got paid in pizza for every show, the next fundraiser would be for a stint for me, but I think it would be worth it.

I haven’t blogged all week because I had to fly to Georgia for work training.  If you’ve ever been to work training, it boils down to one simple equation.  How much coffee do I need to chug to stay wide awake, but not have my bladder burst before the next break?  Half the people are hungover, so that makes a fun room scan also.

I flew down and a small miracle happened – almost sold out, yet I was the only one in a three seat group.  It was glorious.  I moved to the middle, put all three air fans on me and listened to my iPod with no regard for people’s arms or personal space.  I felt like with that luck a bunch of snakes were going to bust out of the baggage area.

The highlight for me was when we went to a restaurant.  They were slammed, so it took forever to get the food.  Out of nowhere a huge tray of kabobs was placed on the table.   Two of my cohorts snagged food, then the waiter realized he hit the wrong table.  He yanked the tray back and looked.  He gave a “who gives a damn” look and shuffled the kabobs around to make the plate look normal and plopped it down on the other table.  It was great.