Down With Bears! Vote Colbert!

Steven Colbert is running for President! In one state. I'm moving to South Carolina to vote for him. For one, he's the only Presidential candidate who understands the danger bears pose to our homes, our families, and our way of life. I'm looking at you, Sugar Bear. Two...there is no two. Bears are the gravest threat to humanity in the world. Reason number one is reason number enough to vote for Steven Colbert.

Colbert's presidential announcement

Update: Uh oh. He's already involved in his first scandal.

Four Stages of Pop Culture Savviness; Turtles

Four Levels of Pop Culture Savviness
An arbitrary list, although nowhere near as arbitrary as most of the lists, or anchors, on VH1 shows.

1. You find out about the latest trends directly.

2. You find out about the latest trends from your hipster friends. Not that anyone in this stage uses the word hipster.

3. You read about the latest trends from television shows or newspaper articles.

4. You see headlines about the latest trends from newspaper articles or your kids, and don't care enough to pay attention.


I have sunk to level 3. I was never cool enough to be at level 1. Level 2 used to be my home, but now my friends have adult lives and must not have time to keep up. For how else to explain the lack of notice about the "I Love Turtles" kid?

I heard of him from my new source of coolness, The Washington Post Style section (article link). The story is one of the WP's semi-annual "What hath the Internet wrought?"pieces.

I fear though that I am on the beginning of spiral to level 4, a abysmal pit sheltered and disconnected from anything cool. I don't get the I Love Turtles kid. The only thing humorous about it is that it vaguely echoes the "I Didn't Do It" episode of the Simpsons.

If that doesn't sound cranky enough (level 3 people have gobs of self-awareness, clinging to it as our way of staying the irreversable descent into uncoolness), here is why I don't think the clip is funny, at least on the first viewing: it's too fast.

There isn't enough time to let the mind process the absurdity of the situation and laugh. It's a 20-second joke compressed into 17-seconds. Watch it first, then imagine the clip with a pause after the reporter asks him the question, and another pause after the boy answers. Old Man Walther would find that funnier.

That's why I enjoyed the description in the article more than the video. The article teases and extends the funny details of the video that fly by upon the first viewings. The timing of the video may also be why it became a viral video. The details fly by so fast that one may have to watch it several times to find it funny, incorporating another detail into the jokework after each viewing until they gain a familiarly in the mind so we can process everything all in one moment and laugh.

If you watch the video once and didn't think much of it, watch it a dozen times and let me know if/when it becomes funny.

There are a few mashups of the video, which I find funnier than the original, partially because the timing is expanded. The Bill O'Reilly interview is one of the funny ones.

Trashy Celebs

Two friends of mine, Amy and Lori, have a very funny blog called Trashy Celebs. Where else are you going to find headlines like "Joey Lawrence’s Man Boobs are Blossoming?"

DC Comedy Fest 07 and WoW

The DC Comedy Fest started last Thursday and ends tonight. I volunteered to take tickets and got a nifty T-shirt and a staff badge. On the badge is the customary comedy festival "I have to pee" icon, with the American flag waving proudly in the background. "Oh, say can you see..." Every time I see that bladder controlled-challenged, unisex hermaphrodite, a tear wells up in my eye. God bless comedy.

Watching stand-up comedy makes me long to get back into the scene and regret the time I wasted away playing computer games alone at home. I got sucked into World of Warcraft, a popular online game, for the past two months.

This is true: I have a half-written post about WoW making fun of the game, while I was playing it during a trial period. I didn't finish the game because midway through writing it my rogue reached level 20 and got the ability to apply poison to his blade. Then me and a raiding party killed Lord Meneon, and after a successful greed roll on the loot, I got the Tunic of Westfall, and then Lady Elvira flew down on her magical Griffin, and...

I need help. Help rescuing the Prince of Stormwind, who was absconded by a band of bandits and taken to...

No! I need real help. This game is addicting, and I have no self-control. This is also true: I canceled my account over a month ago because I felt I was wasting my life away on the game. On my last paid day, I killed a Feral Rage Scar Yeti (just keeping it real, people). and the monster drops an extremely rare, 1 in 10,000 chance sword. It's the WoW equivalent of kicking a bear and having the Hope Diamond pop out of its ass. Well, maybe I can renew for one more month...

Days later, I was killing Primal Oozes while yelling, "You ooze, you lose!" I got a few game pets, a cat (named him Dog), a bear (Unbearable), a boar (I'mBoard), and a crab (CrabbyMcClaws).

A few weeks after that, the start-up screen hint started displaying, "Do everything in moderation, even World of Warcraft!" You know there's a problem when your computer tells you to take it easy.

I got to the point yesterday where I opened up the parent control panel and limited my play time during the week. 10 p.m.-12 a.m. on weekdays, early in the morning on weekends to motivate me to get up and after 10 on weekends so I'm not tempted to stay home and play.

It's working well so far. Technically, there is nothing stopping me from disabling the restriction, but that extra step is enough for now to get me to stop. If I find myself slipping back, I'm going to put a random password in the Parental Control account so the change will be permanent.

Which means I'll be writing more posts, and doing other creative activities like taking photos and posting them on my Flickr account. Even if this break ends up being short-lived, a small break is better than no break. Which is also the motto of my Orc character, Sir ThugALot.

Random Roundup

• I haven’t read it yet, but I glanced through Dave Barry’s “2006 Year in Review” column. The Washington Post Magazine highlighted some of the sentences in yellow. Look, I like Dave Barry, but highlighting a Dave Barry joke is like putting glitter on a stripper.

• I’m writing a few proposals to companies about my ideas for new products. One of them is to Hostess, for “Hostess $$ugh Balls.” A box of miniature doughnut balls. Most of them are filled with a delicious lemon custard, but a few are filled with real dough!
  
  I’m picturing on the box the Twinkie Cowboy kicking his heels while holding two fistfuls of cash dough. This is the only relation cash has to the product. The winning balls will just be filled with regular dough, so not only will the consumer be confused, she will also be disappointed, as the regular doughnut balls are inferior to the custard-filled one.
  
  

• Ever since the advent of cell phones, I have been tempted to ride up and down in an elevator and have fake phone conversations when people walk in.

"He’s all whiny, like ‘You can’t fire me, I have cancer.’ So I tell him, ‘No. What you have is no job. Now get out of here, baldy.’ What? [...] Well, he wasn’t completely bald. But he was going to get there in a few weeks, so I went with it.’ "

"How should I know where to put the body?" [notices other riders] “Hey, call me back in a few minutes.” [...] “I’m in an elevator.” [...] “They didn’t hear anything.” [...] “Are you crazy? I’m not killing someone else.” [...] "They're not even on the elevator anymore." [mouths to other riders, run]

Funny Onion Story

I missed this when it first came out:
Kevin Federline, Wife Divorce

The Washington D.C. version of "You Know You're A Redneck When..."

You know your legal defense is is trouble when...

Your supporters defend you by using a video clip from the Colbert Report.

Stephen Colbert's Speech at the White House Correspondents' Association Dinner

It took a lot of guts for Stephen Colbert to attack President Bush and the press when they're right in front of him. It's on-target and hilarious (video) [about 50 min in.]

Conan O'Brien Predicts the Future

Very funny.

SM Looking for SN. No smokers, please.

A Ninja Pays Half My Rent (thanks Chad). A short, funny, work-friendly movie.

You know, the appellation work-friendly is misused. I've seen web log entries like: "This 35-minute movie is hilarious! Best of all, it's work friendly."

Actually, a 35-minute movie is very work unfriendly. In fact, it is the antithesis to work, unless your computer is powered by a treadmill or needs to play videos to run Excel. The movie may be inoffensive, except that there are probably a few people in your office who get offended watching your lazy ass indulge in net videos and other time wasters, while they're stuck at their computers, work piled up around their monitors, and forced to play Solitaire.

Before the graveyard...

I wrote a skit and later realized that the premise is inherently flawed. The premise is that Rush Limbaugh, Bill O'Reilly, and a helium balloon are competing for the 2005 Gasbag of the Year Award.

Funny idea, right? But it didn't work, and several drafts and comments from friends later I've come to realize that the premise has contradictions in itself that make it almost impossible to convert into a great skit.

I'm still working the contradictions out, but one of several that I thought of so far is that I'm trying to parody two things at the same time: the personalities of Rush Limbaugh/Bill O'Reilly, and right-wing talk radio. Writing skits with more than one subject just doesn't work.

There is also the choice of the game show format, which requires lots of short responses, and trying to parody Limbaugh and O'Reilly, which I believe requries them to speak for several sentences at a time.

It's an odd notion to me--that a skit can be flawed just because of a poor structure. I've always worked under the idea that in sketch writing, what is important is how the concept is done, not the concept itself. That a truly creative person could find a way to make any premise work. Now I think the premise is at least as important as the writing, possibly more so.

Okay, enough self-absorption. Here's the skit. You may find it amusing, may not.

HOST: "Welcome to the finals of the 2005 American Gasbag Competition. I'm Chuck Sewer. By the end of this night, one of these three talk show hosts will be America's Gasbag of the Year. Let's meet the finalists."

HOST: "A titan of radio and TV, and guardian of the No-Spin Zone: Bill O'Reilly."

O'REILLY: "I'm going to lecture you like I've never lectured before."

HOST: "Always right, never wrong, he puts the left where they belong. Rush Limbaugh."

LIMBAUGH yanks out a bottle of pills and tosses back the whole bottle. As the pills fall, he snaps at them like a mad dog tearing at a piece of meat. Most of the pills miss his face and fall on the floor.

HOST: "And give it up to our returning champion, helium balloon!

BALLOON: "EEE-EEE-EEE."

O'REILLY: "Hey!"

HOST: [laughing] "No win zone, indeed. First up is the lighting round. You will be given a series of topics. Whoever makes the most outrageous statement about it wins. Hands to the buzzer!

BALLOON: "EEE-EEE-EEE."

HOST: "Just vibrate then. First topic. ACLU."

O'REILLY: [buzzer] "Hitler would be a card-carrying ACLU member."
LIMBAUGH: [buzzer] "Hitler? If Hitler had sex with Satan, their baby would be President of the ACLU."
BALLOON: "EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE."

HOST: "Judges? Helium balloon by a nose!"

RIMBAUGH: "Come on! Who are the judges, the New York Times?"

HOST: "Sorry Rush, but two-headed Hitler-Satan baby that pees evil is the winner. Next topic: The Clintons."

LIMBAUGH: Last week, Hillary Clinton had sex with the two-headed Hitler-Satan baby, "Hitlan".
O'REILLY: "Then she brought a catapult to Iraq and flung aborted babies at our troops.
HOST: "Wow. Helie is stunned squeak-less. Well, let's see who the judges [sees Balloon shaking] Yes?
BALLOON: "EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE."
O'REILLY: [angry] "Mmph!"
HOST: "Ohhhhhh, my! Can you say that about a woman and a water hose? Another one for H.B. Final topic: the torture at Abu Ghraib."

LIMBAUGH: "It's amazing to me how outraged the libs are about this "scandal." I mean, you ever hear of needing to release some steam?
BALLOON: "EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEEE.

O'Reilly thinks for a moment.

O'REILLY: "EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE."

HOST: "This round: O'Reilly!"
BALLOON: "EEE-EEE-EEE."
LIMBAUGH: "Yeah, he just repeated what he said!"
HOST: "Welcome to the right-wing echo chamber, guys."
O'REILLY: [mocking contestants with echo] "You suck…you suck…you suck…"
BALLOON: "EEE-EEE-EEE."
O'REILLY: [covering his chest] "You smear merchant!"
HOST: [laughing] "Oh, Helie. I'm sure O'Reilly has the same number of nipples as everyone else. Let's check the leader board. H.B. is on top with 20, O'Reilly has 10 and Rush is dead last with 0."

HOST: "Next is the all-important skills competition. Your task today is to get our mystery guest to shut up as fast as possible. Let's bring him out. Coming all the way from a back alley behind the CVS down the street. It's…a homeless person."

ELDERLY MAN creeps on stage with cane.

ELDERLY PERSON: "You told me you had food."
HOST: "That's hilarious! Bill, you're first. Go!"
ELDERLY PERSON: "Dear sir, do you have any food?"
O'REILLY: "Who is this joker?"
ELDERLY PERSON: "I'm elderly and cold."
O'REILLY: "Somebody shut his mike off."
ELDERLY PERSON: "I'm so hungry. I wish I had a doughnut."
O'REILLY: " Listen, buddy. You're in the No Spin zone. The only thing you're eating is the truth."
ELDERLY PERSON: "Can I have gravy with the truth?"
O'REILLY: "That's it. Cut his mike. This interview is over. I'm not going to dress you down anymore, out of respect for your father."
ELDERLY PERSON: "My father's 93. He was a pirate. Where is the food? I'm--(mouths rest of sentence)
HOST: "34 seconds! That might be good enough for first place. The mike cut-off comes through again."
ELDERLY PERSON: "But my name is Henry."

HOST: "Isn't he adorable? Rush, you're next. You'll need to be 34 seconds for a chance to win. Go!"
LIMBAUGH: "Woah, woah, woah. Hold on here. What on God's Earth is a "homeless" person?"
HOST: "It's a person without a home."
LIMBAUGH: "Well, what's he doing here? Tell him to go home."
ELDERLY PERSON: "Can I have an orange?"
HOST: "He can't. He's homeless."
LIMBAUGH: "Huh?"
HOST: "He's HOME-less."
LIMBAUGH: [long pause] "I don't get it."
HOST: "Mmm…I'm going to have to disqualify you. Sorry, Rush."
ELDERLY PERSON: "I have scurvy."

HOST: "Maybe our reigning champion can help you out. Helie, are you ready?"
BALLOON: "EEE-EEE."
HOST: "Go!"
ELDERLY PERSON: "My stomach is eating itself."
BALLOON: " EEE-EEE."
ELDERLY PERSON: "Really? You will?
BALLOON: " EEE-EEE."
ELDERLY PERSON: "Thank you! He's going to buy me dinner."
BALLOON: " EEE-EEE."
ELDERLY PERSON: "You love me?
BALLOON: " EEE-EEE."
ELDERLY PERSON: "[tears up] Oh! You want to give me a hug! Thank you! It's been so long.
BALLOON: " EEE-EEE."

ELDERLY PERSON shuffles over to balloon. When he grasps the balloon for a hug, it attacks the elderly man, beating him senseless.

ELDERLY PERSON: "AHH! AHH!"

HOST: "[horrified] Helie. You…killed him. In cold blood. You just killed him…and beat out O'Reilly time with 33 sec.! Helium Balloon retains his crown! This has been the 2005 American Gas Bag Competition. Good night!

When Car Ads Go Warped

Ford should buy this fake Volkswagen ad and show it nationally.

Mix O' Stuff

* God: the first activist judge.

* People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. If you're rich enough to own a glass house, don't sully your hand with a dirty-ass stone. Have the maid do it.

* When a sports announcer says, "How do ya like that?" I usually don't.

People did a lot of drugs in the 60s...

...and then they made Superman comics.

"Jimmy, this gift you got me for Father's Day makes me sorry I ever adopted you as a son."

Stop Me If You Heard This One Before

I went to a stand-up comedy show a few days ago and one of the opening comedians did a joke I've already heard from at least one other comedian. But right as he said it, I got hit by a form of cognitive dissonance and forgot who stole it from whom. I think he stole it…or maybe it was the hack at the Chuckle Hut last week…or that other dude last month at the Fun Factory.

If I had to pick him about of a police lineup, I fear I would let society down.

OFFICER: "Sir, can you pick out the comedian who stole the joke?"
ME: "Um…#2?"
OFFICER: "The guy in the yellow jump suit and floppy red shoes?"
ME: "Yes…no, wait. It's not him. He sells fries. #4? Maybe if I heard him?"
OFFICER: "#4, please step forward."
#4: "What the deal with sleep medications? I'm taking this new one, Sleepitor. There's a list of side effects on the bottle. You know what's the first side effect listed on it is? Drowsiness!"
OFFICER: "Thank you, that's enough."
#4: "I mean, what's next? A warning on heroin? 'May cause irritability'."
OFFICER: "I said, that's enough."
#4: "Speaking of irritability, let me tell you about my girlfriend. Boy oh boy. Here's the difference between men and women."
OFFICER: [pulls out gun] "I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH!" BAM BAM BAM [comic collapses and crumbles in a ball] "…Oh, no. What have I done?"
ME: "Justice, my friend. Justice."

But maybe I'm being too judgmental. I'm not a stand-up comic. Is joke stealing even a crime? Perhaps standup has a service similar to the Associated Press, a common pool of jokes any comedian can use when he or she is short on funny material or doesn't have the time to fly to Florida and write his or her own jokes about old people getting flu shots.

Or maybe, similar to the Illuminati, there are only 12 funny joke writers in the world, and they supply materials for all of the comedians. To maximize their efforts, they'll send the same jokes to different regions of the country and require comedians to take a blood oath promising to work local. But the oath is occasionally broken and the comedian travels, revealing the flaws in the system before he can be silenced and sent back to waiting tables (hence the high turnover rate in both industries).

Need...More...Turkey

Zombie Jason...needs more turkey. With stuffing. And graaaaaavy. Only Ramen at home. Turkey-flavored noodles...not same thing.

I had an eventful week. Last Tuesday, I went to a meeting of a sketch comedy group that arose from the primordial comedic ooze a few weeks ago. I am usually uncomfortable around new people, so I was forcing myself to chat and ask questions. Everyone was friendly. A good time was being had.

So it's near the end of the meeting. They had a show this upcoming Sunday and were doing group readings of the scripts so the director could cast the show. The last script had eight people in it, and everyone was tired of reading, so I thought: "I'll help out with the reading. I have a severe stutter, so it's not like the director is actually going to cast me."

I picked a small part, read it. On the second go around, I picked another small part no one wanted to read.

The next thing I know, the director says to me, "Okay, you're Swami. Meeting adjourned. Everyone, see you this Saturday at rehearsal."

What the f---? Hey, crazy director. I don't like performing. During periods, like the past few weeks, when my stuttering is very severe, I don't even like speaking. I hide under the covers when the phone rings and let my roommates answer it. Read my alpha waves: cast someone else. Like a monkey. Monkeys are funny. Everyone loves monkeys. Monkey monkey monkey monkey....

Alas, as it has been the fate so many times in my life, there was no monkey to be found.

I'll compress the rest of the week. In short, having to perform turns out to be very good motivation to work on one's speech. Confronting some of the avoidances I let develop in the past few months helped my feel better than I have in a long time.

The performance was yesterday, and it went very well. I made stuttering part of my character and made it part of the joke. We filmed the performance and ran it twice, asking the kindly audience to be a laugh track if they had to.

I got almost no laughs the first time around because, to both my pleasure and disappointment, few people laughed at my stuttering. After the first show, we introduced ourselves and I said I'm a real-life person who stutters. I think that made it okay for people to laugh because I got a much better response the second time around.

Overall, it was worth the stress and I'm happy that I got drafted into doing it. I might even do it again, if I can come up with a character who stutters.

Of course, this is assuming the circus still won't loan me the monkey.

Onion Flashback

This is the article The Onion wrote about Bush's inauguration four years ago. At first I thought they rewrote it a few months ago. It's that prescient.

Random Thoughts

* I saw a video clip of Britney Spears after her knee injury. Britney Spears is the only person in the world who can wear a full-leg cast and still show some butt cheek.

* I stutter a lot on vowels. I'm the only American who wishes he was born in a better place: Kyrgyzstan. Maybe the two countries can set up an exchange program with me and a stutterer we know loves apple pie, aspires to assist others, and absolutely hates the KKK.

* In my sketch writing class yesterday, we each made a list of three emotions, three professions, and three physical deformities. We put each word on a separate slip of paper, organized them into three piles, and picked one from each pile to generate a character. My list is "confused, carpenter, no hair". At the end of the class, the instructor asked three of us to hold onto a pile for next week.

I got the physical deformity pile. When I woke up today for a walk, I found out that the slips of paper fell out of my notebook and were scattered on the ground. I wonder what people walking by thought of seeing a pile of paper with words on it like "deformed head," "No Leg (amputee)" and "dozens of ears."

Sketch Writing

The DC-based Theater Lab is offering a six-week sketch writing class. The class is $180 and starts this Sunday. I took it when it was last offered, a year and a half ago, and I'm taking it again. If you want more info about it, see the hyperlinked word "class" up above? Don't click on it. Click on this link instead.

Steven Wright

Steven Wright is performing at DC's Warner Theater on Friday June 18, 2004. Tickets are $30.50, not including Ticketmaster's well-deserved $7.20 convenience fee. I didn't know Steven Wright was still performing. The ticket price is on the edge of how much I'm willing to pay and I'm thinking of going. The only caveat is that I hear he turned into a prop comic.

Funny Personal Story

From crazy liberal Adam Felber.

Comedy Compacted in List Form

My friend Amy and I combined the amazingly creative powers of our brains to build this Tower of Comedy for your enjoyment.

The Different Types of Baseball

Union baseball: Three strikes and you're in.
Shakespeare baseball: A comedy of errors.
Alcoholic baseball: They keep bringing out pitcher after pitcher.
Straight man baseball: Hit the ball, jump on home plate for 30 seconds, take a nap.
Straight woman baseball: Run to first base, then second base, then first base, then second base, then first base, then second base, then third base, third base, third base, third base, then run home and cry out the umpire's name.
Gay baseball: You're out.
Lesbian baseball: No balls.
Conservative baseball: If you strike once, you're just going to strike again and again.
Liberal baseball: You get five strikes, and if you still can't hit the ball, we'll pay for batting practice.
Clinton baseball: Swears it never got to third base.
Cheney baseball: You never know where the ball is.

Al Franken

Quote I never expected to see in an article about Al Franken:

"His butt was like a cut basketball. Which, you know, you don't normally see in comedy writers.''

The New York Times has a lengthy feature on Al Franken. I found the depth of his involvement in politics interesting, such as when he organized a meeting with influential members of the media and John Kerry in his house early in the primary season.

Also, the four-page spread on his dunkable ass didn't hurt.

Triumph's Best Triumph

Conan O'Brien said it was "probably the funniest ten minutes on television that's been on the air in the past five, eight years." Triumph The Insult Comic Dog visits that Star Wars geeks. (18 megs)

Questions Someone Else Asked Stephen Colbert

Dallas, Tex.: Why is it the Daily Show takes an overwhelmingly liberal stance when it comes to the elections and Democratic candidates? Shouldn't the Daily Show be a little more unbiased? The Daily Show can still be funny yet fair at the same time.

Stephen Colbert: First, we are not news. We are under no compunction to be fair or balanced or any other thing other than funny. Second, satire always attacks the status quo. The status quo is presently a Republican executive, legislative and judicial branch. There's hardly a liberal target left. Third, we throw hay makers at the Democratic candidates across the board. Fourth, I hope Bush loses.

(chat transcript)

Questions I'm Asking Stephen Colbert

I made a smiley in your likeness. I call it "The Stephen Colbert Special Edition." Will you use it?

?`:|

-----

***Hope***, Michigan

I applied to be a PA for The Daily Show last month and I got a form letter saying there are no positions right now but my resume will be kept on file. Can I have my resume back? That was my only copy. I wrote it in crayon to show my sense of humor, but my friends don't believe me. It's eight pages long and has a picture of a green sun at the end (I THOUGHT GREEN WAS MORE CREATIVE BUT EVIDENTIALLY YOU GUYS DIdn't.) (Ignore all the caps after "thought".) You can COD it but please mail it under my roommate's name (References, #7). His mom is always shipping him stuff COD.

----
Dundalk, Detroit
The site says we can submit questions before or during the discussion. This isn't a question. I just wanted to say we could send questions after the discussion if you had a time machine, jack ass.

(I started reading his chat, and I'm chagrined for sending these questions. His answers to regular questions are hilarious. I feel like the wanna-be trying to upstage him.)

Jon Stewart Comes to D.C.

Have $60 you don't need? Then maybe you'd like to see Jon Stewart on February 27th at Constitution Hall. Available tickets: $52. Service charge: $8. I'm a huge fan of Jon Stewart, but the only way I'd pay $60 to see him do stand-up is if he were firing ping-pong balls out of his ass at Carrot Top. "Here's something you can use in your act. [pop]"

Two things

1. This week's The Onion is quite funny.

2. Flowers.

Good News!

I love the Weekly World News. I buy it several times a year and have never been disappointed. This week's story about Hillary Clinton's continuing relationship with alien hunk P'Lod sucked me in. The WWN is funny, and intentionally so, although I'm not sure all of its readers get the comedy of this week's horoscope for Sagittarius: "Avoid root vegetables."

Even the classifieds are funny. Under Money Making Opps.: "HOW TO get one million people to send you $2.00. Learn my easy method! Plus receive proof this method works. Rush $2.00 to..."

Dave Barry, Olssen's Bookstore in Arlington, Wed. 24

He is reading from a collection of his columns. (Olson's Bookstore is by the Courthouse Metro stop. For those of you who aren't familiar with D.C., I will put this in perspective: the Courthouse stop is next to the Roslyn stop.)

My love of Dave Barry, combined with my greater love of free stuff, means I'm going. If anyone is interested, I'll post details a few days before the event.

(Actually, I love Dave Barry in the same sense that I love The Simpsons, meaning it's something I used to be fond of but rarely keep up with anymore. But who knows what havoc "font size=+1" after the second "love" in that sentence would have played?)

FOX News Loves Al Franken

Stories like this make me happy to be alive. This lawsuit is almost too funny to be true.

Mysteries of the Universe

How does Colin Quinn get work? I ask this question seriously. It keeps me up at night. I can speak better than him, and I stutter. Someone should give him a medal for being brave enough to write his own jokes, and them whack him with another medal to make him stop. What does this twitchy ball of energy do before delivering every one-liner, snort one?

If C.Q. were a magazine, it would be written in crayon, a third of the pages would be numbered, and every issue would have a 16-page photo spread of three chimpanzees and a movie monkey flinging crap at each other. Mysteriously, it would only sell four issues a month but still be published for three years.

Last night in his monologue, he complained that he has never gotten invited to host an awards show. How about instead being grateful for the existence of inertia? Colin Quinn should hire a conceptual artist to make a statue representing inertia and one-up the Muslims he makes fun in every show by kissing its ass six times a day.

Okay, my crankiness is over. Thanks for reading.

My Mom, Stealing Laughs

My mom was born to be a professional heckler. A sample of her comments Wednesday night at the comedy club:

COMEDIAN: "I haven't been doing well lately. My girlfriend broke up with me."
MOM: [to us] "Lucky her."

(in the middle of the act of one lame comic)
MOM: [loudly] "Let's go!"

During the last comic, Michele kicked me to get my attention. I turned and saw my Mom, pretending to be asleep. The comic saw her and had a sad look on his face.

After the show, Mom found a youth group having a late pizza dinner in the hotel. She and Michele barged into the room and zeroed in on the pizza. One of the adults asked her if she was part of the group. I forgot what answer she said she gave him, but whatever it was, it had absolutely no effect on them each walking out with a slice of pizza. The two of them then badgered Evan (Michele's boyfriend) to steal them some more pizza.

M & M then prodded me for the next five minutes to show my blood allegiance by stealing a slice. Keep in mind, neither of them were the least bit hungry at this point. They just wanted to make sure I was still committed to the clan. Now, I have no moral problems redistributing free food. It makes me feel like Jesus. But I was tired from pre-performance stress and I have a knee-jerk reaction to peer pressure, so I picked this as my one monthly fight I get to win.

Eventually, their chicanery-induced adrenaline highs subsided and they let up their attack. We ended the night sitting on the curb outside eating slices of a decent vegetarian pie while Mom gave us tips on how to eat for free if we ever become homeless.

Ah. Family.

Acres of Hilarity

I just got back from doing stand-up at WiseAcres. My confidence was shaken from a couple bad experiences I had in a row, so I wrote and practiced my routine every day for the past week, stacked the audience with my family, and went up hoping for the best. I'm happy with how it turned out. Most of my material got a great response. I stuttered more severely than I would have liked, and it got in the way in a few places, but I did a decent job making jokes about it with the audience.

As much as I hate bombing, at least those times give me funnier stories to write.

I'm not planning on putting an mp3 of the performance or any ones in the near future. It's kind of like the fifth kid in the family who gets screwed with the baby pictures. Wow. Another baby. Woo. Take it to Sears for a family photo once a year and be done with it. But if you still want to listen to it, I'll digitalize it and email you a link.

Tonight's Peformance Magically Cancelled

I'm skipping WiseAcres tonight. On an unrelated note, my sister Michele brought home the new Harry Potter book. I'm not supposed to tell anyone since she promised Tina, sister #2, that she would get it first. But Tina never reads my web page, so I'll be able to finish it in the next two days and she'll never know. Assuming I don't call Tina and read the first page to her over the phone. Which would be a very bad assumption to make.

My decision to skip WiseAcres actually has nothing to do with Harry Potter. Last night, my act--five minutes of me saying non-sequiturs in the voice of George Washington--bombed. It turns out, predominately black audiences don't like dead slave owners talking to them. Who'd had thunk?

It turns out white families don't like G.W. jokes either. I did my routine in front of my family. They had to open the windows to let out the stink. In the words of Michele: "This sucks! And we're your family."

So the G.W. stuff is permanently buried, I'm putting my experimental comedy phase on pause, and working on a normal routine. I have no regret about doing this. It's too frustrating going up again and again and getting no laughs.

GET OFF THE STAGE!

I'm going to an open mike Tuesday and Wednesday. This is an open invite to anyone who wants to come and share the laughter...at me. A few caveats. It's all new material (read: some good, some bad.) I'm not sure I'll get stage time either day. And I'll be talking in the voice of George Washington for most of the time. But read this rave review of a rehearsal of my act from my friends Sean and Deb:

Sean: "It sucked less than last time."
Deb: "Oh, yeah. It definitely sucked less than last time."
Sean: "I mean, last time REALLY sucked."
Deb: "Remember when he tried to do an impression of the Dalai Lama, but he forgot his lines and farted?"
Sean: "Do I? I watch the video every time I'm plagued by feelings of inadequacy."
[Sean and Deb go on to reminisce for five minutes on my last act.]

Where At?
Tuesday: 8:00, The Cave (Washington D.C.)
Wednesday: 8:00, WiseAcres (Tysons Corner, VA)

My stand-up show last night...

* It didn’t go so well.
* I ended my set by saying, “Please don’t shoot me.”
* The show was running late. I promised the MC I would wrap it up in 5 minutes. He thanked me and said he would flash a light to let me know when my time was up.
* I went 8 and ½ minutes. I didn’t see the MC madly waving the light until I cried, “Somebody shine the light, please!” Which is somewhat ironic because, as you can tell, I really wanted to get off the stage.
* If you didn’t infer this yet, a lot of my material bombed. Also, there were many long pauses where I forgot what I was going to say. I blamed it on the stuttering.
* I did better than two of the comedians that night.
* There were 17 comedians.
* The two I did better than were bigots.

On the plus side, I learned many valuable lessons:

1. I’m not one of those comedians who can “wing” it. I can’t even “leg” it. I need to memorize my act like a monkey memorizes the drawer that the researcher hides the bananas in at night.

2. Audiences don’t like George Washington penis jokes.

3. I am what I despise. I would rant internally whenever I saw an amateur comic bash himself on stage or become defensive when the audience doesn’t respond to his material. Yet there’s something about being on stage that breaks down my defenses and allows this vulnerable, self-doubting part of myself to come out, cringing, as he expects to be stabbed. If this part of myself could tell good jokes it wouldn’t be an issue, but unfortunately his timing is a little off.

Almost finally, thanks to Sterling Krauss, a friend and very funny comedian, for giving me a little pep talk and some pointers after the show.

Finally, after listening to the whole tape, here’s a clip of one of the good parts (must…resist desire…to put good in quotes...damn it...Playdoh irony too powerful..."good" "good" "good" "good"...):

(I was holding a dollar bill)
A few words of wisdom from George Washington

Ahh. Now my shame is public. I feel so much better.

Ehhh...

I went to another open mike tonight. I was Da Bomb. Or, if you want to be anal about it, I bombed. My subconscious must have expected I was going to suck because I forgot to record my act, a mistake that saves me from having to burn the tape afterwards. Midway through my act, I thought, "This is really rough. I better skip the new stuff and go to the A material." Then I thought, "This is my 4th time on stage. I don't have any A material." I used to be annoyed at comics who took up their set lists with them on stage, but after forgetting two of my bits, I may take mine up with me next time.

Although I didn't do well, I'm still glad I went. The more experience, the better.

The Bat Cave

I went to the open mike at “The Bat Cave” at the DC Arts Center today. Once a month, a lovely woman named Dee Synder (she introduced herself as just “Dee”, which threw me off because I was expecting "Dee Dee" and I kept waiting) runs a free-for-all session where almost anything goes—stand up comedy, serious poetry, acoustic music… Okay, that’s not almost anything, but it’s a few pant sizes wider than most open mikes.

The audience (about 15 people today) is supportive and the atmosphere is very low key. Anyone in the D.C. area who has thought of doing any type of performing should give it a try. It’s a good, low-stakes way of gaining experience. More info here.

I tried a few new jokes and read Lying About Robots College, an essay I wrote months ago. The new jokes went great, but the essay only received chuckles. I’m chalking it up as an example of something that's funnier read than spoken (you’re welcome to tell me it’s not funny read either).

Next month, I’m going to either do stand up or write something specifically to be spoken. If you’re interested in either watching or performing in the show, send me an email and we can meet up.

Stand-up, Take II

Yesterday I did my first stand-up act at a comedy club (WiseAcres in Tysons Corner, Virginia). I was more nervous going up in front of 50 non-stutterers then I was going up in front of 300 people who stutter, but once I got up on stage I felt fairly comfortable. It went poorly, okay, pretty good, lousy, so-so, and not bad. Not bad is where I am after listening to it a half-dozen times. I wasn't feeling that good right after I got off because, as much as I tried to prepare myself, I got angry at the audience members who laughed at me instead of with me. Then, after listening to my performance a few times, I felt better that my material did get some laughs and that I got up there and did it. I was also pleasantly surprised that most of my words were intelligible. I talk fast and don't enunciate sometimes in everyday speech, and I was expecting this trait to be much more prominent on stage than it was.

Another surprise is that I came in at 5 and a 1/2 minutes, in the range of the right amount of stage time (5-7 minutes). I cut some material I didn't have faith in before I got on stage and was expecting to come in a few minutes shorter (even with the stuttering).

You can listen to my act here (5.5 mb). I put it up more to share my experience with friends and families than to provide laughs to the Internet universe, but I figure a few other people might be interested in the novelty of a stuttering comedian.

I'm looking forward to an open mike next week where non stand-up comedy, like story telling, is accepted. I'm going to read one of my posts from the web page.

If you have comments or constructive criticism, go ahead and send it. I'll probably give it another try in a few weeks. And thank you to everyone who congratulated me for doing stand-up last weekend. The encouragement meant a lot to me.

Hi Ya

For 7 years, I had a dream to do stand-up comedy, but I never got beyond the stage of fantasizing about it because I stutter, sometimes severely. Besides the fear of stuttering in front of a large group of strangers, I couldn't see how I could be successful in an art where timing is everything.

Well, I still stutter, but I decided to practice a short stand-up act and perform it at the National Stuttering Association convention (a.k.a. "Stutterpalooza") in Nashville. The extremely bare-bones version of the story is that I performed my routine at the closing ceremonies in front of a few hundred people. I told myself before I took the stage that just getting up there, no matter how it went, would be a success. Just between you and me (okay, and Tibor too) I also secretly wanted to make their spleens explode from laughing. I got nowhere close, but I got enough laughs and compliments afterwards that I'm thinking about giving it another shot.

I have a lot more to say about the experience, and the conference itself, but after replaying a tape recording of my act several times and watching the emotion and memory bleed away from it with every playing, I'm not sure I want to replay it again, even if the replaying is in a different medium.

Stories That Start Off This Way Usually Aren't Very Good

On the toilet today, I had a vision of Carrot Top in court, charged for crimes against comedy. He lost. The judge grabbed his oak gavel, leaned over the bench and said, “Mr. Top, before I sentence you, do you have anything to say for yourself? Carrot Top looked at the gavel and thought, “I could use that in my act. I’ll call it ‘Ghetto pest control’. ” Then he broken down in tears and sobbed, “Oh, god. I need help.” A trail of mascara fell down his cheek. Then I wiped my ass.

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Mo Roc