CHRIS COEN

For the first time in my life, I blocked someone’s feeds on FB.  Trust me, there have been a lot of close calls.  “My political party is flawless!  Yours are Nazis!”  I have no cult of personality delusions – shut up about your pristine b/s political hero.  I also hate the “I had tacos!” person.  Who gives a shit?  I had a sandwich.  Tell me when you eat a bullet, then I’ll care.

The offender, though, drove me over the top.  My number one enemy (and I post too much, trust me) is the “reposter” that basically takes chain letters/spam email and reposts them.  After 12 posts in 24 hours, I had to block this chick.  “Some little girl died in 1997…Support the troops…I like pudding…REPOST THIS!!!”  Let me tell you something, gnat.  Posting stuff on FB DOESN’T ACTUALLY HELP THE VICTIM!  What???!!!  If you have time to repost 57 chain letters a week, then get your stupid ass out there and volunteer.  I hate when people pass info and act like they did something important.  “Did you hear about 9/11?”  Yes.  “Well, I told you about it.  I practically saved New York City.”  These people are almost as unbearable as the slow “sexy” shots of the Kardashians on E! commercial breaks.  Ooh, it’s Khloe!  In slow motion!  Vomit ensues.

After the alumni game, my lower back was so stiff, I couldn’t take off my cleats w/out sitting down.  Here’s my arm –

My arm was lumpy and red from field turf scratches.  So I did the smartest thing I could.  I went to Eaglesticks bar and drank 20 beers.  When I woke up, I was in a hell of a state.  My girlfriend, a physical trainer, had to “release” my back and hips b/c I couldn’t function.  If you’ve never been “released” (no happy ending jokes, please), it’s like Spanish boots or being put in an Iron Maiden.  I realized therapy is like a tube of toothpaste.  The hurty part gets fixed, but the pain just leaked into my neck and shoulders.  I am fine now, so her snake oil worked.  Perhaps drinking on top of dehydration is not the best course of action…

I realized that I need to pull rosters and find a backup center if this alumni game goes down again next year.  If not, I have to put razor blades in my wristbands and hope for the best.  Sportsmanship is for those who are athletes.

Kickoff and the game was underway.  I was playing center only.  When one of my teammates dislocated his kneecap early in the second half, I was glad I made that decision.  The first half for our offensive juggernaut produced four turnovers and zero points.  I didn’t blow any plays, but a linebacker came from nowhere and blasted me.  My cheating instincts were still sharp, though, b/c I grabbed his jersey and pulled him down.  Offensive linemen under 200 lbs. do what we have to do.

On one pick tossed deep, I immediately put my head on a swivel.  If there’s one thing I learned, it’s that defensive players are filthy scumbags and they love to cheap shot people on turnovers.  This linebacker took off for me, but I got lower and even though he had momentum, I knocked him on his back.  Since it was 40 yards from the action, no one saw it and the DVD didn’t film it.  I might as well mention this, b/c I know not a soul will believe this.  Unfortunately, I think this is where my back started to hurt.  At least this action shot was taken which looks cool (I’m in the middle, blocking).

The second half we got the ball and thanks mostly to our 19 year old, still in shape, former all-league receiver, we scored.  I ran into the end zone, mostly b/c I knew the DVD would capture the shot and I wanted to appear like I did something.  Of course, the PAT was blocked.  Although they made it interesting with a late deep ball, that was it.  Maysville wins, 6-0, in a game with 10 turnovers, pass drops, missed blocks, injuries, late hits, and missed calls.  I was too f/n tired to really enjoy it, but it’s in the books.  This is the real shot of my contributions to the game…

Saturday the day of my alumni football game finally arrived.  So powerful were my nerves, I actually woke up about 10 times before getting up for good.  Because I am stupid, I had mini-burgers and fries for breakfast, following up that garbage meal with pizza for lunch.  I drove in for one final walkthrough at 2, then we broke.  I realized I needed more food, so a bunch of us went to Tat’s and I topped my nutritional nightmare w/ a salad w/ about two handfuls of cheese and spaghetti w/ meatballs.  At least I didn’t drink beer (they didn’t serve beer, thank God, or I probably would have).

Back at the HS, I had to get equipment.  My huge melon and virtual mullet barely fit into a large, but I got it.  I also hadn’t worn a cup in quite a while, so that was a hoot.  Mushing my junk into support shorts and a plastic banana was quite the life experience, but it beats getting a cleat in the jumblies.  I went out to the field for a look.  It was weird, b/c I had never actually been there.  They built the school and field after I graduated.  Nothing like defending the “home” turf.

The pregame involved me snapping (the other emergency center forgot to come out for pregame activities until half over).  My hand began to ache after about 40 snaps due to arthritis from punching a lot of things.  The other linemen came out and for the first time since my freshmen year in college (Fall 1997), we did some hitting drills.  My technique was a little off, but so was everyone else’s.  Finally it was go time.  We had to line up on the 40’s facing the John Glenn Fighting Muskies.  They introduced us w/ year of graduation, number and name.  I, of course, did the double hand motion for the championship belt b/c I am a huge douche.  I felt better, though, when they announced the oldest player on the field was our backup guard, a 1984 grad.  Mid-40’s?  Maybe 32 is not so bad, after all.  Now for the game…

Had my showcase at the Cbus Funny Bone tonight – ladies and gentlemen, I am in the ol’ loop.  I have passed the test and will get 1-3 weeks in 2012 somewhere in the United States.  Hell yeah.  My foot is in the door.

Maybe five years from now I will have 47 kids or be dead, but right now, I’m the happiest princess at the dance.  Chris Coen on the move.  Thanks to everyone that came out tonight, I don’t have time to tell the tale, but you guys rock.  I will pour out a beer at your funerals.  Enter Bone Thugs N Harmony – I miss my uncle Jah Jong!

In all seriousness, I had buddies drive from Kentucky, Zanesville, Logan, and everywhere.  Plus my family made it.  My dog stayed home, he’s a jealous dick…oh well.  He always wanted more bones.  My family and friends rock – God Bless America.  Thank you all!  (Especially my g/f Hope.  She bought me a watch and a t-shirt with Captain America on it.  I now have to kidnap her, she is a national treasure.)

Last night, for the first time in a while, I reverted back to my roots of preparing for a show and walked around endlessly with the remote in my hand practicing my set for tomorrow.  I haven’t done that in over a year.  12 mins, 15 mins, and 20 mins – I have no idea what I’ll have to do.  I am ready to roll.  Tonight is my “showcase” show where it is determined whether my act is OK to present as a feature (the guy before the headliner) at clubs across the fruited plain.  I am ready.

When I first started comedy four + years ago, it was for fun.  Now it is becoming something more…or not.  Whatever happens tomorrow, I believe that life sucks.  Your reaction can be, “Oh well!” or it can be “Get the fuck out of my way, I will kick your ass, life.”  I have rewritten jokes, typed every line and reworked it, videotaped my stupid ass, voice recorded myself and spent HOURS listening to every tick.  I have done anniversaries, HS reunions, dive bars, strip clubs, clean corporate shows, parties, movie theaters, clubs, benefits, and God only knows what else.  I am tired of doing shows to fill the gaps for $20 and an “atta boy!”  Daddy is angry and motivated (I think that’s what I should say).  My hand motions are down, my eye contact perfected, my material stage tested, and my attitude razor sharp.  If I blow it, it’s my fault.  I don’t care if the crowd is straight or gay, old or young, white or black, Christian or atheist…OK, Christian might be a problem…I love Jesus, but I am not in the business of telling “Kids are funny!” jokes or magic.  Come out to the www.columbusfunnybone.com and see me tell jokes like a gun is to the head of my wife and kids (I don’t have a wife or kids, use your stupid imagination).  AMERICA!  (Cue heavy metal).  If I do well, awesome.  If not, I will probably murder someone at the alumni football game this Saturday at Maysville HS.  Then I will try again and light it up.