Thursday, December 31, 2009

I have a new TV, and may never leave my lazy boy again

I bought a new TV because my old "tube" TV bit the dust. I couldn't even find a new "tube" TV. They must not make them any more. I decided to go flat and HD. My budget was $300... WAS!!! I was planning on buying a used set off Craigslist, but the more research I did, the more nervous I got about getting a set that wasn't reliable. So I went new. I went to Video Lonely, Best Butt, Rado Sack, even Wal Fart. The best legitimate dealer I found for what I wanted was HDTV Depot in Kent. I found them on Craigslist. They had the model numbers right there on the ad, so I could check out their reviews and compare prices on Amazon. When I went there, the guy even steered me towards a cheaper set. I settled on a Panasonic 32", 720p TV (model: TC-32LX14). What I always forget is that buying any electronics is going to go over budget by no less than 50%. I had to buy cables; I had to upgrade my Charter service; I had to hook it up with my laptop. I'm now $500 deep. But my "everything" looks better. The only thing I don't like is this right here. The screen is a little bit on the green side when hooked up to the laptop. I'll figure it out, but I was hoping it was just a natural fit.

Alright. Back to vegging.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

An Early Christmas Present To Myself

I was on my way to host the open mic at Laughs in Kirkland, driving 0n the 520 Bridge, when some woman in a piece of shit '90's Volvo cut me off. Then I watched helplessly as the same piece of shit '90's Volvo rode every car's ass that was in front of her until they were forced to get out of her way. It drove me nuts. She wasn't even getting that far ahead because the traffic was so bad. She didn't have to ride other cars' asses. She just wanted to be a douchebag. In fact, by the time we got to the junction of 520 and 405, we were at the same spot.
She was oblivious; riding some guys ass for no reason at all. There was plenty of room for her to pass him. She just wanted to be a douchebag. The 405 exit was about a 1/4 mile ahead, when Santa Clause came early this year.
She was in the far left lane, and I was in the far right exit lane. Of course, this moron wanted to merge three lanes of traffic in a quarter mile. She shot across the two lanes, cutting yet another person off, and was right next to me.
Life is almost always against me. The coin lands on heads five times in a row. It rains on my one day off in two weeks. My section at the restaurant is full of old people and Canadians. Even the world itself spins around trying to sling me into the dark vacuum of outer space. But every once in a while, the coin bounces off an ashtray; or the clouds open up, and the sun comes out; maybe a couple of lawyers who served their way through law school come in to celebrate winning a big case. What I mean is, sometimes, very rarely, I get lucky. This was one of those times.
Douchebag Volvo sped up to pass me; so I sped up. Even my little Civic has better get up than a piece of shit '90's Volvo. So she slowed down to get behind me. I slowed down to box her out. That's right! I boxed her out! I decided that I was going to deliver a little bit of freeway justice for all of us; that this douchebag wasn't going to make this exit. She slowed down to 35 mph in a 60 mph zone trying to get behind me, but I stayed right with her. It didn't take much, because the douchebag hadn't given herself much time to get over in the first place. I boxed her out like a professional, and she missed the exit. She waled on her horn and flipped me off; and I just stared blankly back at her, as if I didn't know what was going on. I watched her screaming at me through her window, as she faded away in a beautifully sloping diagonal.
I felt vindicated. I felt righteous, like only the most inbred, brainwashed religious nuts can feel. I felt satisfied for one sparkling instant during this miserable and hopeless existence.
Judge me any way you want. Give me some excuse for her: that she was late for work; that she didn't know any better; hat she was on her way to visit sick orphans. I don't care. She was a selfish douchebag, and she got what she had coming to her, thanks to me.
You are welcome.

Friday, December 11, 2009

Quit Making Out In Comedy Shows

I'm so sick and tired of couples making out in middle of a comedy show. It's incredibly disrespectful; and it happens all the time. I don't understand how some guy telling dick jokes in a dark and dirty room, is such an aphrodisiac. It only shows how desperate and co-dependant two people are. First of all, it's often a couple sitting in the first couple of rows, or in the back of the room. The couple sitting up front want everyone to see how in love they are to deflect from two things: that the man keeps trying to look down the waitresses blouse; and the woman keeps laughing a little too hard at the comic's jokes. He keeps his arm around her, and kisses her every time she laughs at a joke, that way every other guy in the room doesn't get confused and think she's alone. She holds his hand because the second she lets go, he's going to try to fuck the woman sitting two rows behind them. And if I confront them about their public displays of affliction, they always get embarrassed and suprised that anyone was watching them. No one cares about you and your woman; and no one else wants to fuck either of you. So get over yourselves for a second and enjoy a show that you paid good money for.

The other couple always sits in the back of the room, as far away from the stage as they can get without leaving the room. These two take turns sitting in each others' laps and telling each other how wonderful they are. She tells him how much funnier he is than the comic on stage, and he tells her that he would never make fun of her like the comic on stage is making fun of his girlfriend. These two can't be bothered with the show at all, and are annoyed at how loud it is. So they have to talk louder and louder themselves, that way they can hear each other. These two are cheating on other people with each other. That is why they are hiding in a dark and dirty comedy showroom instead of at a romantic Italian restaurant. This couple when confronted for bother the people around them will get defensive and belligerant. The will want to know why I am bothering them. "Just tell your jokes. We're not stopping you. You're not even that funny."

These are the same people that make out and talk during an action-comedy movie. Neither couple should be allowed to continue the behavior. They should be warned once, then sprayed with the garden hose and sent out into the dark, frozen night.

I tell you all this to premise a story that happened recently at Giggles' open mic. Here it is:

I was sitting in the back of the room at Gigles waiting to go up. I was next. Andrew Sleighter was on stage, and doing very well with some newer jokes (that I helped him work out that day). A couple came into the showroom and sat right behind me. Then they immediately started talking, kissing, and climbing all over each other. They were instantly distracting. In a matter of seconds, I was ready to murder the both of them. It wasn't even that I could hear their voices over Andrew's. What set me off, was that thirty seconds into their face suck-off party, Sleighter told a joke the crowd liked and got a big laugh; and the girl said "That's not even funny." She hadn't been listening to a word he was saying, heard a punchline out of context, saw that it was well-received, and felt the need to make a shitty, bitchy comment about it.

I was going to politely ask them to keep it down, since I didn't want to cause a scene right before I went up, but decided after her comment to flash the flashlight in their faces instead. I gave them a light, just like you give a comic to let them know it is time to wrap it up, except I was three feet away from them. It took a second for them to realize what I just did, then the guy asked out loud "Did that guy just shine a flashlight at us? Maybe we should quiet down." That lasted all of fifteen seconds, until the girl started stroking his hair and kissing him, and TALKING again. This time I did say something. "Do you guys mind taking it out to the bar where you're not going to bother the people around you?" They got instantly defensive. "What? We're not even talking that loud." So I asked them "Why would you pay to get into a comedy show you don't want to watch, and sit in the back of the room to make out? Go suck face somewhere else."

That was when Sleighter said "That's my time everyone. Your next comic is Mike Cummings."

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Another Level

Since the SICC, I've hit some sort of growth spurt. I was doing the same seven minutes for two months straight, and three shows into the contest, I realized it wasn't working. I was so stiff. I wasn't trying to have a good time; I was trying not to fuck up. That's not what I want. I want to have fun on stage.

On the fourth night of the contest, Nick Sun from Australia had a "snap set". That is where a comic loses it on stage somehow. Usually, it means they go apeshit on the crowd. For Nick, it was going really long, and making fun of the other comics in the contest. I thought it was so hilarious. There were several of us in the green room listening to Nick on the p.a. system. While he was up there, some of the comics were bitching and complaining about how unprofessional and selfish and disrespectful it was of him to do it. A couple of people, who I don't fucking like anyway, were shitting all over it. At the same time, Nick was killing. The crowd loved it. He did twice the time allowed, and got disqualified for the night. At the end of his set, he asked the crowd to "Boo" him off stage. They did, and it was awesome. Then the host gave him his outro, and the audience cheered him for an encore point; and when he came back to receive it, they booed him again.
It was great to see the participation between the audience and Nick, and it inspired me. So I decided to change a couple of jokes to what I thought is funny, instead of what I thought they would like. I went out there and had fun; and it worked. I had a better score that night. On the next night, I did the same thing: I went out to have a good time. I even shit on the junior college we were at, and made fun of them for being too stupid to get into a real college. It went great. It turned out to be the only night I placed. And even though I didn't finish well in the contest, I feel totally satisfied. I have a lot of respect for several of the comics in my week. Some, I have little or none. That doesn't matter. I'd rather lose in ever contest against them and stay true to myself.
Since the contest, I've been trying to get away from having rigid, structured sets. I've been fucking around a lot on stage. Guess what. It's working. I was able to feature two weeks ago at the Underground because of a late cancellation. I had four really fun sets, including a show in front of my parents, my sister, and my sister's boyfriend. All of the shows were good, and the late show on Saturday turned out to be the best set I've had in maybe a year. I was so relaxed and loose. Just being lucky, I happened to tape that show (the only show I taped all week). I turned it into my new promo video.
This last weekend, I got to co-headline Laughs with Andrew Sleighter. Four more terrific shows. And this time, I spent half the set each show yelling at the audience and bitching about all the things I hate about waiting tables and being stuck in traffic. It was a blast, and the crowd really liked it. I'm telling you; I'm really on to something.
Well, I hate not writing for a while, because I end up doing mini novels on here. I'll work on being a little more consistent. I'll keep you posted.