Friday, April 30, 2010

You, get off the stage. You, get on the stage.

I did stand-up tonight for the first time ever while sober. I thought I'd be all like "Wow, I'm so much better sober!" Or maybe, "Wow, I'm better at this drunk!" No, it's entirely the same. And I'm entirely the same guy.

I didn't get into a habit of doing comedy drunk because I needed alcohol for courage. It just happens to be staged at a bar, and I lived down the street from that bar and could walk home. So getting drunk was just easy. Now that I live 25 minutes away from the club, getting drunk is not an option. But being funny was just as easy. I'm not saying I'm great. But I'm self-aware enough to know I can tell a dick joke and usually get the reaction I intended. That being said, let's get away from me and get to the others. Here's some crap I hate about the comedy club on each and every open-mic night.

First off, a lot of these guys who perform every week sit at the bar while the other comedians are performing, and they hold a pencil and stare at a paper and scribble over their own comedy notes. They had a freakin' week to prepare! If you feel the need to bring a Number 2 and yellow pad, then you shouldn't feel the need to get up on stage. You're not ready. And besides, it's just downright rude to be staring at a paper full of your own ideas, while ignoring a colleague who is making a fool of himself on a stage 20 feet away. In fact, I time my smoke breaks and piss breaks around guys who do this. If they can't watch some other guy, I can't watch them.

I also cannot stand these nerds who work their act out on me without my permission, while I'm sitting at the bar trying to drink and watch the guy on the real stage. I don't do that to my friends. Don't do it to me. I can understand running a joke by someone to see if it bounces; but to actually perform your act like you're on the stage to me, when you're not on the stage, and some other guy actually is, is fucked up. And I certainly wouldn't do it to other comics... especially while at the comedy club! That's like a musician singing a song to another musician in his dressing room, when the other guy didn't ask. Gay. Cut that shit out. Plus, my fake laughs are obviously fake. Don't make it awkward for both of us.

About half of these dorks base their whole routine around how they can't get girls. Let me tell you: if you can't get girls, then I can promise you one thing: you're not funny. It's a myth that funny guys don't get laid. Funny guys get laid all the damn time. In fact, some only ever get girls because their ugly ass is hilarious. Maybe they don't plow every girl on earth, but by at least some girls on earth. Give some ladies some credit: some of them are ready to wiggle, just so long as you make'em giggle. So if you really can't ever once land a woman, then get off the stage.

The other half of these dorks base their whole routine about how much pussy they get. That's even less funny than a guy who talks about how he perpetually strikes out. No one finds a guy funny who is up there talking about random girls. Don't get me wrong: dirty can be funny. I'm always dirty. But a guy who gets up there acting like a conquestor of coochies is boring. Not just to me, to everyone. The guys that do this are actually usually pretty good looking guys. They should realize that is why they get laid. Not because of their stagecraft. Get off the stage, you unfunny Adonis.

Some of these tards get up there every week and do the same five minute routine. Look, if you make a living at this, or are trying to perfect your act, I can understand that. But, if you're gonna do that, shop that shit around to different clubs. Don't do it to the same audience at the same club, every seven days. If you ignore my advice and still do, 1/3 of the people will step outside to smoke, another 1/3 will sit there and ignore you, and the other 1/3 will fakely polite-laugh. If you have lived your entire life and can only find five funny minutes of your existence to talk about, please get off the stage.

Now, by my bitching, you'd think I'm a rude asshole to other comics who struts around the place like I'm some big shit. Not at all. I'm actually one of the nicest people there. And I know I'm not big shit. I mean, it's jokes, man. Jokes. There's no need to be petty. I only ever compliment the other guys or keep my mouth shut if they blew chodes. But some of them, some of them, are catty little girls. If you do well, they will ignore the shit out of you or even try to make you feel unwelcome at the club. They do this to me all the time. I've even been shoved by other comics who acted like they didn't know they were doing it. How silly. I want all these dumbasses to do well. But many of them think that if one guy does well, that will dig into their own success. Not true. And if you think that, well, I won't ask you to get off the stage, since some of the petty little bitch boys are actually the funnier ones. But seriously, grow up and cut that junior high shit out.

The final person I hate is the guy who week-in and week-out tells me how good he'd do if he got up there. Fine, I believe you. (Not really.) Some non-performers show up every week and brag about how great they would be if they ever felt the need to share their fucking amazing observations. To these over-confidant armchair-comedians, I beg you: Please get on the stage.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Blowing Blows.

New Post: The entire story is fictional. Totally fictional. So let's just go with that one, okay? Otherwise, I'm not writing the shit.

A certain dumbass went to the Down/Melvins show back in September. The show took place in Myrtle Beach 1.5 hours from the dumbass's home in Wilmington, North Carolina. Due to the fact that he lived in a tourist town, Dumbass forgot that this was a holiday weekend. Shit - every weekend is a holiday weekend in Wilmington. Dumbass also forgot that the authorities announced they'd be doing DWI checkpoints all over the area.

So the show was great. It was great because Down rules, the Melvins rules, and Dumbass drank about 2 vodka tonics and 7 Miller Lites in three hours. The amazing thing about this dumbass is that he can drink a lot and not become legally drunk. (Two or three police tests over a lifetime have proved his incredible alcohol processing abilities.) Unfortunately, this streak of incredible metabolism was going to come to an end... by a hair.

Dumbass and his co-hort, Girl Who Knows She's Always Safe When He's In Control Of Anything Including A Car, saw a checkpoint at the state line. They dodged it. Unfortunately, another tinier, po-dunkier town was running a separate checkpoint. Dumbass wisely tried to turn around and hide at the Food Lion, but a more pussified citizen got behind him and wouldn't agree to turn around as well. This forced dumbass to go through the checkpoint.

Dumbass was the last person to get arrested. And arrested he was! And the chivalrous cops packed up and left the girl sitting alone in a dark parking lot in the woods by herself! Real men. Who wouldn't leave a skinny young blond girl in a skirt and tank top all alone locked out of a car and refuse her a ride to a safe place?

Dumbass doesn't regret driving. Dumbass regrets getting caught. The world was not spared an unsafe person that night. He even told law enforcement he could do backflips during their stupid test that he was ace-ing, despite the fact that he had never done a back flip in his life. Despite his bravado, Dumbass was charged with being .01 over the limit. (An amount that used to be legal to drive under.)

Fast forward 7 months later.

At court date 3, Dumbass's Attorney said to him, "You know that female officer that wrecked her car hot-dogging at 100 mph when she was trying to race her fellow officers who were on duty about two months ago?"

Dumbass said he was familiar with the woman.

The well-connected Southern Attorney said, "Since she administered your blood test, and now she's out with serious injuries and probably has lost her police career, I'm going to ask for a dismissal."

Dumbass said, "A woman never tested me. A big fat guy did."

The Attorney said, "Yes, she did."

Dumbass privately asked his passenger (who came to court) if she remembered the woman giving him a test. She said, "The only woman there that night was me. A big fat guy tested you."

Then dumbass realized that his attorney had a scheme that he needed to not sabatoge. Dumbass also noticed that the other officer in the case had suddenly disappeared from court... for the day. He said he "had a meeting he forgot about." And then the judge made jokes about the female officer's driving skills and dismissed the case while everyone in the court laughed (except the lone female officer who barked out defenses of the woman.)

Then dumbass realized that his expensive attorney's fees were being spread around. Thank God that some officer who couldn't drive and wasn't there to testify was the convenient excuse for everyone in the court system to distribute dumbass's money to each other and let him go free.

Acquitted and enlightened. Dumbass will never again bitch about dirty attorneys - they'll keep you clean.

Friday, April 2, 2010