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Weekend Comedy Recap – Sick in Saratoga

This weekend I had, what appears to be my final gig of 2015, in Saratoga Springs, NY. And like the race horses that have run there, my career has been begging to be euthanized.  On top of that general malaise, I also was (and still am) in the midst of the worst cold I have had in many years.  But it was with the warrior’s determination of a vagrant participating in a bum fight that I boarded the PATH train to Hoboken to meet up with Usama and Dan, another comedian on the show and the show’s producer, respectively, to ride up to Saratoga.  Usama, who turns out was going to go to medical school before discovering comedy, or as I call it, “the poor man’s def poetry”, showed off his brains and wit quickly, as he pick 6’d one of my jokes in our initial conversation (a “pick 6” is a term I coined for when a comedian telegraphs his (sigh… or her) punchline so badly that were it a football pass you could intercept it and take it in for a touchdown.  In this case it felt more like I had been picked off by Richard Sherman or Darrel Revis (like when I anticipated a Bill Burr punchline correctly at MSG – sometimes a brilliant comedic mind can make a great play without it being the QB/joke teller’s fault).  In my case, Usama and I were looking at the Freedom Tower from Hoboken (a Bangladeshi man named Usama and a bi-racial Egyptian-looking giant surveying the Freedom Tower from New Jersey – I am scared and angry that we weren’t profiled) and I said, telling him it was a joke (instead of being one of the comedians who pretends like his organic conversation just naturally morphs into well constructed bits), that it is a good thing we didn’t have cell phone cameras on 9/11 because nothing would have been worse – and he interrupted me and said “People shouting world star as the towers fell!”  And at that moment I realized either I am losing my fastball or Usama is a sharp dude/comedian.  Needless to say both my comedic instincts and my self preservation instincts compel me to choose the latter.

So Dan showed up shortly after Usama and I met and we got into Dan’s Subaru. Dan is Italian, but also has a Mediterranean skin tone that could easily be construed as Middle Eastern, so basically we had a sleeper cell headed to Saratoga, with much worse funding.  Usama fell asleep in the backseat for just about the entire ride up, which allowed me to eat horribly at rest stops without the skinny dude body shaming me. #DoveSoapAd

We arrived at the venue, The Parting Glass Pub, at around 7, just in the nick of time for the 915pm start time.  There were just as many headhsots of horses as there were of entertainers, or maybe Tony Robbins used to do comedy.  I sat in a half coma sounding like Stephen Hawking with a stuffy nose, hacking like I was in the last stages of Ebola, which allowed me the isolation I needed to prep for my set.  The show went really well with Usama really impressing me (he did use the “soul bounce”, generally saved for black comics in all white rooms (trademark pending), to point out he was a real outlier compared to the crowd, whose racial makeup was somewhere between albino and bleach, but his set was really great).  I did well with my 40 minute set (my timer after read “40:07” which proves that even when sick I am a well-oiled machine of struggling comedy) despite my cold and the local guy taping the show was nice enough to tell me he was a huge fan of my appearances on The Adam Carolla Show.  Basically this was like Jordan’s flu game against the Utah Jazz, but for upstate NY comedy shows.

We then departed back for Hoboken, stopping just once at a Roy Rodgers where I got a burger and fries just to ensure that death would come swiftly. We arrived in Hoboken at 3:00 am and Usama took the PATH back to the city.  I got home at 3:45 and celebrated a good show with a chipwich and 4 hours of sleep.  For one little show the money was good, though I did the math and if I had simply worked on my legal assignment for the entire time I spent on the Saratoga trip I would have made triple the money.  When you are willing to sacrifice comfort and money for comedy that is a sign of dedication to your craft.  Or a sign of masochism.  Either way, looks like that is the last road update of 2015.  Thanks for the least productiv & least lucrative year of comedy road work for me in 7 years comedy biz! #Blessed

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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Weekend Comedy Recap: FInally, J-L Has Come Back to…

This weekend took me to Bethlehem, Pennsylvania – birthplace of Jesus Christ and high school football location of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.  Well, major events happen in threes, so you can officially add my stand up performance to that historic duo.   I was scheduled to headline a 7pm show at Broadway Social and because of my extensive fan base (consisting almost exclusively of friends from college and law school) I knew I would have 2-10 “fans” in the crowd.  To get to Bethlehem I had to take Transbridge bus line (“I took Transbridge bus to get here, so I guess now buses can identify as whatever they want in this post Kaitlyn Jenner world” was my first joke on stage and it bombed), which is all part of my “Not Even Good Enough For a Greyhound Depot” Comedy Tour of America.  At only 3 hours, the bus ride was not quite long enough to cripple my bum knees, but I still had a limp for about a half hour after arriving in Bethlehem.

When I arrived I was greeted by my buddy Scott, Scott’s brother and a friend of theirs.  It was also confirmed that many years ago I coined a term called “Weinberg” that has become very popular in their circles in Bethlehem.  Like many funny things I have forgotten I told Scott that whenever someone tries to shift blame on someone out of nowhere it is like when Col. Nathan R Jessup in A Few Good Men asks Daniel Caffey who’s going to protect the country, “You (Caffey?)” *turning unexpectedly to Kevin Pollack’s character with a hint of Antisemitism “YOU Lt Weinberrrggg?”  So at some point in my storied career of unpaid humor I referred to someone as totally “Weinberging” someone. And for many years that has become a thing in Bethlehem, PA. #Legend

When we arrived at Broadway Social I saw that it was a pretty nice bar/lounge so I took in the surroundings, went over my notes for what I wanted to do on stage and set up my camera that I lugged from NYC.  After several local comedians went up I went up and had a very strong set.  The lounge had a clear VIP lounge area for private parties or something so it got a huge laugh when I said after a sort of dirty bit got less laughs than others “Oh please we are in a club with a VIP rape room right over there!  So don’t act too uptight when you know that visiting stripper porn stars probably come here to fu*k who ever is the important business man in Bethlehem.”  I was extremely happy with the set and knew that I had at least 2-3 quality YouTube clips ready from the set.  On top of that I also was paid $5 more than the agreed upon payment.  So let that be a lesson to you young comics – if you do things right, work hard and professionally you will reap tremendous, unexpected benefits.

Sometimes your talent and height are too big for a normal spotlight.

After the show I went back with Scott to his house, but his three kids and wife were at the in-laws, which led to two benefits: a late night viewing of John Wick on HBO and a free child’s twin bed for me to sleep in (I think I secretly hoped that Scott’s family would arrive before I woke up just for the potential Goldilocks/Home Alone level humor of a 4 year old finding a giant in his bed.  Of course it probably ends with the child standing his ground and killing me in a perfectly legal shoot (especially considering my black father/ISIS eyebrows), but still pretty funny.

The next morning, before catching the transbus (Its momma named it bus, I’ma call it bus!), I was asked to stand as Godfather to Scott’s youngest child (After Mel Gibson and Stephen Colbert I might be the third most famous Catholic in entertainment).  I then slapped him and told him he should act like a man!  So, just another typical road comedy gig for me – bus travel, lucrative cash bonuses and providing spiritual guidance.  And then I got home and accidentally deleted the set from Friday night. #Blessed

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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Weekend Comedy Recap: Casino Normal

I was at the Mohegan Sun in Wilkes Barre, PA this weekend, so I guess my Cal Ripken-esque gig-less streak has been broken, but rest assured I am a fierce competitor and am committed to starting a new streak this week.  I love the Mohegan Sun gig because you always get a great room, and it is like a mini-legit casino (the title is supposed to be a James Bond pun on Casino Royale, since the new Bond film opened this week). The comedy club is nice and I have generally done well so nothing to fret.  I will just give you a few small highlights before sharing some clips of new bits that went well over the weekend (FYI – this is going up on a Sunday because Monday will be the all out blitz for my Trump-Sanders-Obama video – this week’s podcast will go up Wednesday instead of Tuesday:

  • Jokes about every group went well except one: women. Now I made jokes about big women, but this line, that attacked women’s overall role as financial beneficiaries on dates, fell flatter than anything I said all weekend: “Valentine’s Day is sort of weird – in honor of boyfriends and husbands paying for dinner all year, they should pay more money for extra date – that is a weird way of saying thanks to us. I mean do you ask your Mom to cook you an extra special breakfast when it’s Mother’s Day?” – It felt like Daffy Duck following Bugs Bunny on stage. Crickets.
  • Got to earn extra loot by doing a firehouse gig before Saturday’s show.  Took my first Uber ride and despite making 2 wrong turns the guy still asked for a 5 star review.  I was leaning 4 stars, but the guy was an African immigrant living in Donald Trump-loving Pennsylvania country so before he gets shot by police or chased out of town by a mob I figured I could give him a charity 5 stars.
  • Got paid in cash for all my shows and some Uber reimbursement, but still managed to walk by all the tables without plopping it down and seeing if I could leave with headliner money.  So thanks to my caution I still have cell phone, Con Ed and health insurance money for the month. What I am saying is that I am a rock star.
  • OK, so without further adieu here are 3 bits from this weekend that I am very proud of. Hope you enjoy them, share them and subscribe to the channel:
Big Girl Selfies
Magnum Depends

Utility Son

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

 

Essential J-L Reader

Why We Should Treat the Girl Scouts Like Old…

Yesterday I went to The Late Show with Stephen Colbert and it was every bit as awesome as I hoped.  As if blessed by the comedy gods I ended up lining up in an aisle seat (about a 1 in 20 chance) so I could stretch my Wounded Knees (my Native American name and condition) and had a great time.  The band was great (though seeing the tambourine player break his tambourine because he was “feeling the pretentious musical spirit” too much was pretty fun and Colbert was tremendous.  Missed Bryan Cranston as guest by a day, but Daniel Craig the week of a new James Bond film is not too shabby.  So, while I wish I could provide more details and emotions about the big day something much more pressing emerged in my life that I need to talk about.

The Food Emporium near my apartment (along with the whole Food Emporium franchise) is closing and it makes me sad.  In a city where neighborhoods don’t exist in the old sense (my old neighbors are nice, but then they die, and everyone under 40 appears to be buried in their phone and be uncomfortable with acknowledging another human being), the supermarket, along with pubs and diners are the only place to feel like familiar faces and smiles still exist in making Manhattan feel even slightly like a community.  Well the silver lining of the Food Emporium closing is that there are big sales on all items, including cookies.  However, all the Nabisco, Entenmann’s and Pepperidge Farm products were very quick to go.  By the time I went for my Cookie Looting Keebler was the only major brand still available in bulk.  Not only are Chips Deluxe incredible (flour, a stick of butter and chips per cookie), but there were tons of them left.  But then I noticed large stacks of cookies called Coconut Dreams.  My date to the Food Emporium (taking a chick for a Fage yogurt and ziploc bags is not so much my “Netflix and chill” as it is my “steak dinner and vacation” – times are lean with my comedy bookings/income) then said words that may echo the death knell to the cartel of cookies known as the Girl Scouts (ahem – cisgender girl scouts as they may later in life identify as something other than girls/women – WAKE UP CISGENDER GIRL SCOUTS – IT IS 2015!):

“Aren’t those Samoas?”

 

Much like the earthquake that sounded when Jesus Christ took his last breath, all sound stopped when I heard this question.  As you can see from the picture on the package, they are awfully similar to Samoas, so coupled with the discount being offered I bought a package of them.  25 minutes later the package of Samoas masquerading as Coconut Dreams was gone, vanquished to my belly, the same way the Girl Scouts’ monopoly was vanquished.

They are identical to Samoas, the cost less per package and there is no office guilt to support your co-worker’s daughter, who cannot even be bothered to make the sale attempt herself, and no wait time (if you are going to make the argument that I can order them on-line).  Samoas are the best cookie, possibly ever, and now, like Palm Pilot and Blockbuster video the antiquated and lazy monopoly of the Girl Scouts is over.  However, there is a problem:

The Girls Scouts are not old black men.

Yes, you read that correctly.  In our culture black people are stolen from constantly, from their bodies to their physical attributes to their artistic contributions. But stealing the inventions of black people, men especially, is part of American tradition.  But stealing from little girls, especially white girls, is pretty much the exact opposite – it is never done and almost certainly Keebler would be treated like Elvish Hitler if these cookies become more widely known.  That is why, in a Matthew McConnaughey-esque, A Time to Kill moment, we must imagine that the Girl Scouts are old black musicians.  Now, instead of thinking of the Girl Scouts as chaste angels worth our protection, think of them as old black blues singers that are road bumps on the way to our favorite white musical heroes!  No one wants to buy cookies from Muddy Waters, especially when the white Keebler Led Zeppelins rock so much better!

So go to a supermarket and buy yourself some Samoas – I mean some Coconut Dreams – the tasty white shreds from the old brown casing – HOW SYMBOLIC! They are delicious.  And someone informed me on Facebook that I was years behind in this discovery, but sometimes it takes a blogger/comedian of huge relevance to make it known to the wider public. You are welcome world.

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

Politics

Time Magazine’s 2015 Person of the Year: The Scared…

This year there has been no shortage of big stories, controversies and entertainment and it would seem that Time’s board would have a tough task choosing its 2015 Person of the Year.  There’s news makers like Pope Francis, Vladimir Putin and President Obama to name a few.  There’s Lin Manuel Miranda, whose Hamilton on Broadway is basically what would happen if Alexander Hamilton re-wrote Biggie’s Ready to Die about his own life, but without Puff Daddy “uh-huh”-ing throughout.  There’s Donald Trump or Bernie Sanders, both of whom have shaken up their respective ends of the political world.  But I think at this point the person of the year should be clear.  2015’s person of the year has been overdue for a few years, but now with the ascendancy of Donald Trump and the success of Jurassic World, this year’s person of the year must be:

the scared white person.

Exhibit A – Donald Trump

No one has given voice to the scared white person, and has allowed them to flex their collective muscle like Donald Trump.  He became a front runner, with remarkable staying power considering his lack of substance and our collective ADD, on the strength of demonizing Mexican immigrants and touting his own vague prowess at everything.  And his nearest challenger is from Dr. Ben Carson, a man who finally started to climb the polls by criticizing shooting victims and demonizing his brown people of choice, Muslims.

 

Exhibit B – Jurassic World

No movie hit bigger in 2015 than Jurassic World, which is now a top five grossing film of all time.  I thought it was much more Jurassic Parks 2 & 3, than it was the excellent original, but pretty white people running from dinosaurs was enough to destroy even The Avengers (confident white people/superheroes not as popular this year).

 

Exhibit C – More Mass Shootings, Less Gun Control

Scared people (probably of all races, but come on…) had to deal with a few more mass shootings in 2015 and as usual found comfort in boosting gun sales to combat their fear of being victims… not of being shot (then gun control might be their preferred approach), but of having the scary black president taking unprecedented action and “Taykin’ they guns!!!!”

Exhibit D – Ashley Madison hack

Nothing sent shock waves throughout the white male community like the Ashley Madison hack.  As we learned from the (edited) viral street harassment video, men of color don’t need a secretive website to holler at women.

Exhibit E – Benjamin Netanyahu 

Exhibit F – Unreasonably nervous 911 callers continue to get black people shot  

Watching the video today of the police officer brutally assaulting a misbehaving black girl in her classroom reminded me of something – many of the cases involving shot/murdered unarmed black people by law enforcement involve a call to police from a nervous (white) person. At least in the classroom case it was a nervous (but more likely annoyed) black person calling on the police (the teacher), but the result was the same: a black person violated at the hands of a police officer.  But in so many of the cases in the last few years I always wonder “what scared white person reported this?”  Because in all fairness to the cops, even the ones who have taken excessive action, I have to assume getting a call from 911 saying “there’s a (black) guy with a gun” will heighten the officer’s tension and preparation for danger, more than a call less soaked in fear (or, obviously, if a call never comes).  But in reality the officer was just doing physically what one-half of Republican primary voters have been supporting from Donald Trump and Dr. Ben Carson verbally – the abuse of people of color.  So for all these reasons, both serious and humorous, Time’s 2015 Person of the Year is the Scared White Person.

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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Weekend Comedy Recap: Fire and Rain at the Hoboken…

This past Friday I had a gig that might be summarized as the perfect gig for me.  I was part of the Hoboken Comedy Festival (obscure comedy gig – check!) taking place at a movie theater (movie venue – check!) in a comedy competition of roasting/saying cruel jokes about another comedian (cruelty/trolling/insults – check!).  I was slated to go against Dan Frigolette, the founder of the festival.  So in preparation, I ended up listening and watching over 10 hours of on-line content in the two weeks before the roast to obtain any small fact or stories I could to cultivate a killer set of roast jokes.  The battle could not have gone better.  I won all three rounds and objectively had the best set of anyone involved in the show.  At one point I felt like Drago verbally beating Apollo to death in Rocky IV.  A highlight for me (other than getting paid $50 because I just assumed it was in keeping with my career of unpaid greatness) was having one of the judges of the competition, comedian Robert Kelly, tell me that I did a great job and also that he then realized I was the guy behind the Comedy Academy web series and told me that he loved the Dane Cook, Louis CK and (especially) the Gary Gulman impressions.   Felt good to get some validation from a big time comic.  Of course I anticipate this translating into zero dollars and zero club spots.  Before getting to the bigger stories of the night here are the jokes I used to win. Enjoy:

  • Dan says he gets mistaken for many different races.  Sorry to break it to you Dan, but “rapey douchebag” is not a race
  • Dan has been on a comedy tour called “The Best Kept Secret Tour”.  But the secret is out – you’re a terrible comedian
  • Dan admitted to keeping a photo log of all his hook ups.  He’s like a sexual version of Memento – he constantly has to remind himself that he is a scumbag.
  • Dan started doing comedy in 2001, a year of another American tragedy as well.  Not only does he look like he could be the 20th hijacker, but his comedy has lasted 14 years. 9/11 had the decency to only be one day.
  • Dan has 18 subscribers on YouTube, but he has only been on YouTube for 9 years so the jury is still out.  His on-line content is like kiddie porn, except more uncomfortable and with a lot fewer fans.
  • Dan’s big credit is that he appeared on the Artie Lange show – making heroin track marks the 2nd worst thing to appear on Artie Lange
  • Dan teaches improv classes for kids, so If you ever wondered “is there anything worse than Improv?” there is being taught improv by Dan Frigolette while he tries to fu*k your mom.
  • Dan appeared on the HBO show Boardwalk Empire, but only lasted a few episodes because he was deemed too unfunny to star in a show about murder and corruption.
  • On a podcast interview Dan claimed to masturbate 6 times a day.  With all that time spent jerking off it is quite impressive that he still manages to find time to be irrelevant
  • Dan says that his favorite sound is the sound of someone trying to hold in a laugh.  His least favorite sound is someone telling him what the definition of trying actually is
  • Dan’s favorite comedians are Louis CK and Bill Cosby.   One has been rumored to make women watch him masturbate and the other is a serial rapist.  Just imagine how much Dan will like them once he starts listening to their comedy!
  • Dan said he would try porn but he is afraid to do porn because he could be tempted to do gay porn if the money was good enough.  Breaking news from the Hoboken Comedy Festival – for for a case of Axe body spray Dan will suck your dick on camera.
  • Dan once wondered on a podcast “what if women found it sexy for men to taste their own cum?”  Women responded: “If you taking your own cum in your mouth would stop you from telling your jokes, then yes it’s a turn on”

So after I went up the main event featured two other comedians roasting each other, but it turned out they were a mix of drunk (I think) and unprepared, so they began to riff and roast the room.  Things were going OK (I think the burning embers of my performance were still making things difficult) until the comics turned their attention to a man who looked like a smaller, lighter skinned Richard Sherman.

I could not hear all that went on, but it seemed they wanted to engage the audience member in roasting – he launched some insults (called one comic a “milk dud head” and called the other comic garbage, but then after some more chatter I heard Light Sherman yell “ask your mom about my big dick motherfu*ker!”) At that point in comedy, when things get testy (PUN) with an audience member two things are possible – event staff remove him or, because it sort of happened at the comedians’ prompting, use humor to diffuse the situation and move on.  Neither of those things happened. Instead one comic elevated the hostility with a lot of “shut the fu*k up”s and “get the fu*k out of here motherfu*ker”s.  Granted one of the ways Light Sherman defended himself was with “I got 30,000 followers on Instagram!” which definitely deserved to be mocked, but he also said in the stream of expletives “y’all are wasting my money” (tickets were $20, though my performance was worth at least $25 by itself), which may have been valid considering that he was just being told to “shut up motherfu*ker”, which would feel like a poor usage of $20.  At this point I started to feel sort of bad for Light Sherman (I always assume the defense of comics in situations like this, but it felt like both sides elevated the situation to where both parties were wrong). He had  his girlfriend or wife with him, who was embarrassed by his antics and was probably the biggest factor in getting him to leave peacefully, but it felt like the largely white crowd was just petrified of the angry black man at this point, even though he never got physical and was definitely insulted outside the bounds of humor at least as much as he responded in kind.  He ended up leaving and the show ended without law enforcement.

After the show, I was was surprised by a buddy from law school, Jim, (once again law school always giving me the most consistent support for my comedy career) and went to a bar with his buddies after.  After getting complimented and doing my Donald Trump impression I went out in a cold storm to catch the bus to NYC (the PATH train, which seems to shut down anytime the weather veers from 68 and sunny, was shut down due to weather).  I reached the corner across from the bus stop and saw the bus there.  I got into the middle of the street and waved the bus down before it pulled out but it didn’t matter – he left.  Apparently he did not know that I was a Comedy Roast Battle Champion.  Well, turns out it was the last bus of the night (hey dude – if it is a hurricane, the train is shut down and you are the last bus of the night, try not to be a dick next time).

So I ran back to the bar to catch my buddy who would be heading back to the city later.  I reached the bar freezing and drenched and the bouncer informed me the bar was closed and I could not re-enter (the bar was a small neighborhood corner pub, not some douchey club FYI).  I said my friends were in there and I missed the last bus so he told me he would tell them (I didn’t want to flex my muscle and tell the guy I was a roast champion – no need to humiliate him for his obvious oversight).  He came back a minute later and said they were closing their tab and finishing their round and they would be out.

28 minutes later my buddy Jim emerged and we got in his Uber back to the city.  For those of you wondering why I didn’t get a cab home – cabs from Hoboken to the city are always insultingly expensive and I did not want to spend the lion’s share of my surprise $50 on a cab (and I don’t have Uber on my phone – UNION MAN).  So I got home around 3:15 am and went to sleep a champion. #Blessed

Blog

Some Thoughts on Another Shooting

These are just a couple of long-winded Facebook posts I put out, but for those of you not on Facebook here they are:

Post 1:

A year ago I was performing in the middle of Pennsylvania. In my set was a joke about guns. Four white dudes between 25 and 35 came up to me after. They said in the middle of the conversation that they were hunters but then three of them made fun of the one of the four of their group who was an “Obama gonna git my guns… 2nd Amendment is the 3rd part of the Bible” style “thinker.” Seems about right based on polls that a majority of them, though liking hunting, would find that guy absurd.

Free speech has limits that everyone accepts (no threatening the president, no yelling fire in a crowded theater, etc.), but over the last decade stupid people (or disingenuous people interested in selling guns or denigrating the left or both) have convinced enough people and politicians that guns are less dangerous than words and that freedom requires less gun restriction, not more.

It should be surprising to no one that it was Clarence Thomas of all justices who, in a footnote to a late 90s case (US v Lopez I think) started the Supreme Court’s path towards enshrining a ridiculous reading of the 2nd Amendment.

But Obama is black and Newtown was a fake so let’s “wait for all the facts”

Post 2:

Laws are not just about criminalizing an activity immediately and like a magic wand all is right. Laws, for good and bad, can dictate and cultivate changes in culture that may not always materialize over night. And I do believe there is WAY too much violence in our popular culture (exception – John Wick – that dude can’t be violent enough – HE RULES)

So of course for some shootings, laws may not have stopped them, but 20 or 30 or 50 years from now if we are a country that treats guns like dangerous weapons as a last resort (like the way countries view nuclear weapons) instead of accessories or extensions of genitals we may see a shift that cannot be easily quantified by a simple signing of a law.

But the left recently is always stuck having to tell a dumb and increasingly impatient ADHD populace that things like gun violence, universal pre-K, affordable housing, family planning, environmentalism, etc. are for the best, which they are, but they take time and require patience and a little less self-interest and a little more common interest. But for people who will say “laws could not have changed this” think back to legislators around the country that wanted to limit assault weapons or magazine capacities after Sandy Hook. They either failed, or the legislators (in places like Colorado) were voted out., even though if the Sandy Hook killer had not had access to high round magazines (either because of scarcity or illegality), some of those slaughtered kids would be alive.

We have too many guns and are too violent a culture. Everyone should take some responsibility. TV and movies, legislators who limit funding for mental health services, but most of all gun lobbyists who fear monger (the NRA is a gun seller lobbying group masquerading as a gun rights group) and people who oppose sensible legislation. We need to make changes now so that immediate changes take place, but more importantly the culture is given the chance to change long term.

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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Blood Transfusion Is the Next Great American Show (and…

Last night I watched the Emmys and immediately felt accomplished because I had seen almost all the shows referenced in the opening dance number by homeless-man’s Adam Sandler, Andy Samberg.  Ten seconds later I felt shame realizing that my studio apartment really is a binge watching bunker.  Samberg went through his monologue, which although full of bombs, did have the gem, that based on new classifications in the nominating categories “Orange is the New Black is now a drama, and Louie is now considered jazz.”  I laughed out loud when I heard that.  But then it was time for the awards.  I gave a detailed preview score sheet on Facebook that proved mostly correct, except for a few pleasant surprises and a bunch of losses to something called Olive Kitteridge.  So here is my Emmy recap and a quick preview of what I think will win Best Drama at the 2018 Emmys.

Veep scores the most important win of the night. Veep is a great comedy that scored its finest season this year (the addition of Hugh Laurie aka House was tremendous – like if the Golden State Warriors had added Lamarcus Aldridge this off season). I believe Veep was the 2nd best comedy of the year (after Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt), but more important than who won, was who lost, namely Transparent.  I had a genuine fear that the hip, politically timely, offensively hipster led (look up director/creator Jill Soloway at last night’s ceremony – all that was missing was a bonnet made out of kale), and incredibly unfunny (though Jeffrey Tambour is an excellent actor and gave a good, mostly dramatic performance in the show) show would score a victory for politics over actual humor.  With Veep crushing it in most comedy categories, the Emmy voters (which were recently expanded from its usually high brow “blue ribbon panel” voters) send a resounding message that comedy actually matters more than political winds in the comedy category.

Game of Thrones and Peter Dinklage get rewarded for Season 4 by winning for Season 5.  Game of Thrones is a masterpiece of film making on TV screens and Peter Dinklage is tremendous.  I believe that Better Call Saul and Jonathan Banks should have won these awards, but Game of Thrones and Dinklage were both my 2nd place choices in their respective categories.  However, I really think Game of Thrones and Dinklage hit their high water marks in season 4, so this may have been a make-up call for when Breaking Bad is not eligible (Hi also to Jon Hamm – the Hakeem Olajuwon of the Emmys – winning his titles in the absence of the GOAT – i.e. Bryan Cranston)

Olive Kitteridge.  Fine HBO – I will watch it. Thanks for keeping it On Demand.

Inside Amy Schumer  hit its peak at the right time. SNL has been in a low not seen since the Goat Boy era and IAS is both qualitatively good (though the last couple of episodes ran out of steam in season 3), as well as politically well suited to spearhead the “women in comedy” cacophony/movement.  Cool to see someone I did bringer shows with a decade ago get an Emmy.

Kimmy Schmidt Gets Nothing.  I was stunned that Titus Burgess did not win for Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt.  Legitimately shocked (though Tony Hale is great on Veep, and he gave a shout out to the creator of Arrested Development in his acceptance speech, which always gets my respect).  Also Jane Krakowski continues to go home empty handed.  Then it dawned on me that the lead actress was not even nominated.  I hope the show gets more respect for its second season next year.  On a tangential note – I do not believe shock and tears from winners who already won a year ago for the same exact role – I am talking to you Uzo from Orange is the New Black.

Viola Davis gave a great speech and inspired the next great American show.  Inspired by the Emmys, the speeches and the winners I began feverishly writing the pilot for my new series that will be a diverse tapestry of all things gritty and progressive.  It is about a member of the Bloods gang in LA who is a ruthless killer and has 5 kids by 4 different women, but is really acting like the world’s worst inner city nightmare because he is transgendered and is merely overcompensating for his crippling fear,  The show will be called Blood Transfusion and I expect it to get a 2 season pick-up from Netflix or Amazon.

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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Road Comedy Recap: Killing and Getting the Death Penalty…

This weekend was Labor Day weekend, but in one of the great ironies of my comedy career in 2015 it was one of the few weekends I found myself working in a comedy club, instead of at a computer doing legal work.  I was in Timonium, Maryland at Magooby’s Joke House featuring for Rob Maher (he is the guest on this week’s podcast).  So, continuing one of the most revered traditions in all of stand up comedy, here is another road recap for you to enjoy:

Thursday – Small Crowd, Smaller Laughs: I arrived in Baltimore with The Wire theme song repeating in my brain and got on the light rail to Timonium. From there it was a .6 mile walk to the Red Roof Inn Plus, where I was staying. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I arrived at the RRIP for a few reasons: one – I have stayed at some very pleasant, well-attended Red Roof Inns; two – this was a Red Roof Inn PLUS so it was probably better than that and three – I paid $159 (including taxes and fees) for three nights. So those are two reasons it could be good and one that could mean I would get raped and murdered by Waingro from Heat (an analogy I have made too many times to the various lodgings in my comedy career).

 

That night there was only one show. The crowd was light and for me, the laughs were lighter.  It was one of those crowds where way more people came up to me after to tell me variations of “really funny,” and I always want to reply, “Yeah, I know, but it would have been cool to laugh out loud during my set so that I didn’t get the universal sign for “not funny at all.”

After the show Rob (the headliner) and I were caught in a conversation with a 5’7″ busty blonde from Bel Air, MD who taught special ed kids (what’s not to like?).  Now on a quick biographical note, I dated a 5’7″ busty blonde from Bel Air, MD for three years so perhaps engaging in any conversation with her was an attempt to re-capture a pleasant moment from my past.  However, that lasted about 20 seconds. Why?  Because the woman at the club was kind of racist and might have been looking to cheat (two of my three rules with hooking up are 1) must not be racist and 2) must not be in a relationship – the third, which does not apply here is 3) must not be someone a friend dated). Well this woman was regaling Rob and I with stories of how she has relationships with women, that her husband was away for the weekend and how she gave her 1st BJ in 7th grade.  She had an accurate count of how many black men she had made out with in her life (“three”) and many other odd statements that might have made her super progressive during the Civil War, but felt uncomfortable in 2015.

After leaving the club and bisexual, racist version of my ex, I stopped by the gas station across from the RRIP, bought a pack of Soft Batch cookies and a 1% milk (an old road tradition of mine) and went to cross the street when I saw a young 20-something woman in a low cut tank top and shorts holding a sign that indicated that she was hitchhiking.  Needless to say that this empowered woman was just another in the quietly dignified group of “sex workers” in America who, despite a 99.9% correlation of being victims of sexual trauma and/or parental neglect, she seemed like the exception to the rule and just making sound life choices to augment her entrepreneurial life.  But since my room had two beds and I felt bad I asked the woman three quick questions…

Washington had Mt Vernon. Jefferson had Monticello. J-L Cauvin has the Red Roof Inn Plus

Friday – J-L is Back! (but still not selling much merchandise): Friday I spend about 5 hours in a Panera Bread reading (FYI – the best chocolate chip cookies available from a chain are Panera Bread’s. They are awesome).  Message to any men over the age of 60 in Timonium, MD – there is an oasis of senior citizen vagina in the Panera Bread.   I also tried to watch a movie through Amazon Prime in my room, but Red Roof Inn Plus has the WiFi equivalent of 1997 dial up.  I also noticed that there were a lot of ants in  my bathroom area so I did buy a can of Raid-Ant Killer and proceed to become the Bashar-Al Assad of the Timonium ant community.

That night I had two strong shows, but sold almost no merchandise.  So instead I bought two packs of Soft Batch, one for each CD I sold. I would have given the local prostitute a pack, but she was not out on Friday night.  I then got home in time to catch an amazing fifth set between Rafael Nadal and an Italian dude named Fabio Fognini. In addition to upsetting Nadal, he also led to the greatest tweet in US Open history when I wrote “Fognini looks like the hot member of an ISIS boy band.”

Saturday – Kill on Show 1, Get the Death Penalty on Show 2: One of the things I have learned recently is that even as I get better at writing and performing my comedy I will still alienate some crowds, even when I am on my game. Generally it will be a combination of easily offended and mentally dumb that don’t get or like me.  Well Show 1 Saturday was NOT that crowd. I murdered as hard as I ever have with that crowd (video clips coming to the YouTube channel soon).  I really had a terrific set and felt great.  I had earlier watched Northwestern upset Stanford on TV (my brother went to NU so they are the college program I root for/follow) and had had another Panera chocolate chip cookie that day so with a great first show the day had the makings of perfection.  Then Show 2 occurred…

I felt good going into show 2. My friend Marie, from law school, showed up with her husband so I thought – “I am killing with strangers – now the crowd has people I know – THIS IS GONNA ROCK.”  What followed for the final show of the weekend was nothing short then capital punishment.  Awkward silences to the early litmus test jokes I have (early set jokes I use on the road that always kill so I can gauge the crowd) and then when discussing Latin women and working in the Bronx an audible “Wow… wow” from an unhappy women. That wouldn’t be so bad, except that was the only sound.  In 3 of the 4 shows before the laughter may have drowned the feigned shock of this woman, but the late Saturday crowd’s silence provided her with an audible spotlight.

The best thing about doing comedy long enough is that you really don’t feel badly after a tough set (they did lose it to a 5 minute bit about being blamed for other people’s shits in public bathrooms – not surprising).  I think they could tell I felt mentally superior to them, which may have hurt my chances of regaining their affection (which I never actually had).  Oh well, 3 of the 5 shows went great, one went so so and one was a bloodbath (with me as the sole victim).  But it is weird that in the same town, on the same night one crowd of residents can think you are the greatest thing ever and then the very next crowd hates your guts within ten minutes.  But that is how real life has been for me so at least my comedy appears to be true to myself. #Blessed

Off to Los Angeles next week. Stay tuned.

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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Weekend Comedy Recap: Moroccan Restaurant Domination

Last night I was booked on a show at a Moroccan restaurant (little known comedy fact – Kevin Hart, Louis CK and Amy Schumer all got their big breaks at Sunday evening shows at basement Moroccan restaurant shows) and it did not disappoint. I arrived around 7:45pm for the 8pm show and was greeted by an Eastern European 9.7/10 who, surprisingly had never heard of me (she offered me a table, when I was obviously there for comedy, she must not be a fan of Comics Unleashed) or the comedy show (an older woman informed her that the comedy show was inside).  On a side note I was not sure what was sadder, me at this stage of my career or this super attractive young woman working at this restaurant, probably via shipping crate, when she could be attached to a millionaire within 6 months with a little bit of hustle and missed birth control.  The bottom line is we are both way too talented in our respective areas of strength for that Moroccan restaurant.

Well the ambiance was very relaxing, dim lighting, friendly staff and music that sounded alternatively like the the call to prayer in a Muslim country and the ominous music before something bad happens on Tyrant on FX.  I sat in a table in the back waiting for people to show up sitting next to a guy with a huge beard (devout messy, not hipster messy), wearing sunglasses, smoking a hookah and eating a large meal by himself (#LoneWolf).

The booker for the show showed up next and we had a nice laugh at the zero audience members, and I requested that “Although I am a professional failure, please let it be known that I am professional,” given my early arrival.  The last time they had the show it was well attended, which just confirmed my status as Comedy’s version of The Nothing in The Neverending Story.  A couple more comics showed up shortly after 8 and we say and chatted til about 8:40. It was like how comedians sit around at the Comedy Cellar, except none of us had professional opportunities or advice to offer each other, but we also were not in denial about our comedy industry 1% status.

The show was officially cancelled at around 8:40 pm, but that was OK by me, because you can never bomb the sets you don’t do.  Let that be a lesson to any young comedians reading this blog.  Then I walked across Manhattan with comedian Sergio Chicon, discussing all the great things that come with a career in stand up comedy, departing on 2nd avenue for him to catch the bus home and me to drown my comedy sorrows in a chocolate milkshake at Baskin Robbins.  So I finished the night with a non-show only costing me $4.67.  Based on my 12+ years in this business that is definitely one of my more lucrative nights. #Blessed #ComedyMogul

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!