CHRIS COEN

I went to watch some pals tonight in a comedy contest.  It was the newbs that brought some chuckles to me, for the wrong reasons.  The first guy had never done comedy before and did about 2 and half minutes of a 5 minute set.  He probably said “fuck” or a version thereof at least 35 times.  Mistake, especially for a sober crowd.  Another comic did a joke about a man consumating (with?) a horse.  Mistake, almost always (I leave the possibility that somehow people would laugh at that in a normal comedy club).  The other new guy did jokes and then said he wanted to vote for Obama b/c the country was going great right now.  While you’re at it, do some pro James Buchanan bits and fyi, wait until gas is under $3/gallon, unemployment is under 9%, and we’re not in three wars…just a thought.  I HATE political humor.  If I have to hear a George Bush is stupid, Bill Clinton got a blow job, or fill in the blank joke again, it’s too soon.  That’s what Jay Leno, Jon Stewart and every other late night hosts are for.  It’s usually pretty far past the point when stand-ups do political humor.  What’s next?  A timely Charlie Sheen joke about “WINNING?”  How about a Tiger Woods sex joke or another relevant joke about Lance Armstrong’s ball cancer?  Hey, did you guys hear that Mel Gibson hates Jews?  Let me drop this gem on you…

Just watched The King’s Speech, good movie.  I am completely fixated, however, on the abdication of George VI’s brother Edward.  The King of England really hasn’t had to do much since the 1800’s anyway.  “What’s on the schedule, Jeeves?”  (All servants are named Jeeves, it’s a fact)  Well Sir, today you play polo and meet the King of Siam.  “What about this Hitler deal?”  Churchill’s on it, your Majesty.  “Oh God, that bloody sucks, I can’t handle the stress.  I quit.”  Plus that chick he married was a skeezer.  She was still married and possible nailed Joachim von Ribbentrop.  Everyone knows that dude got around.

My Grandma loves cheesy gifts.  I once got, as a birthday present, a pirate head that spit water when you walked past it.  If it makes noise and is made of plastic, my Grandma is on it.  Apparently this has passed on to my Mom, b/c yesterday she got me a chicken that you fill with gumballs, wind it up, and watch it hobble around and lay the gumballs as eggs.  Somewhere in a third world country the locals have a shrine or statue of my Grandma (and maybe soon, my mother) that they bow to as the great benefactor.

I have a show Saturday in Sugar Grove, Ohio, a town outside of a town of about 8000 people.  Small town shows are good for me, b/c I’m white trash, so I and the crowd relate to one another.  Plus, you’re usually up against McDougal’s dart tourney or a fish fry at the local VFW so the turnout is decent, despite the fact they spelled my name wrong on the “flyer”, which is a neon yellow piece of paper.  The downside is I usually end up talking to the town drunk after the show who is either going to say something extremely racist, homophobic, or equally as bad for me, bounce truck stop humor off me endlessly until his insatiable lust for another shot of George Dickel whiskey allows me to slip out to my car.  I also get hit on by a drunken woman who is dangerously close to retirement age while her biker boyfriend stares me down, as if I’m actually going to follow through with his upper 50’s great-grandma girlfriend.  No need to stir, Hoggy, I’m somehow going to resist the siren’s call of your mullet haired beauty and her sexy mom jeans.  Now someone buy a t-shirt so I can feel better about my set tonight.

I am not tech saavy.  That said, I loathe tech morons.  We’ve all worked with someone very recently that couldn’t use a fax machine.  I had a job where this knuckle dragger asked me how it worked.  “Put the paper in, then dial the number like a phone.”  His response?  “Do I have to dial the parenthesis?”  I offered to transfer someone to a voice mail since they were in another state.  He asked if I would instead pass on a message.  I told him that was what this magical new invention called voice mail was specifically built for!  Sarcasm is lost on the stupid.  My favorite was a customer that complained about being billed for fuel when I worked at a truck rental facility.  She went 300 miles and put five gallons back into the 24’long 25500 lb. diesel moving truck.  She wanted a refund and I said I was calling her a liar.  I did no such thing.  I called her a dipshit.

I did one last night for the first time in a while.  When I was short on cash, I did them a lot.  The prequalifying is the most annoying by far.  They ask 40 questions then ask your name and number and address, etc. at the end.  You called me from a database.  Didn’t you have that, you know, WHEN YOU LOOKED UP MY INFO (I’m serious, b/c I used all caps).  My other issue is when at the end, they say – “Thanks!”  “When do I get paid?”  “Oh, this was just a survey, unpaid.”  “I hope you die!”  Click.  That said, it pays about the same as comedy.  Maybe I should put these on my schedule.  Come hear the hilarious Chris Coen riff about fast food, SNUS, and corporate advertising, this Tuesday, live!