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Road Comedy Recap: The Pitts-burgh and ChicaGOAT epic

This week I hit the road again for a Thursday gig in Pittsburgh (at this point, based on my three shows in Pittsburgh since 2021, my next audience may actually contain a negative number of people) and a Friday/Saturday in Chicago, with the Friday show being a live Making Podcasts Great Again and Saturday being a headlining stand-up set.  Following our great live show in NYC for MPGA and wanting to keep working out my new hour, this was a week I was looking forward to for a while.  Unfortunately, I have not been this disappointed in Pittsburgh since I heard racial slurs yelled at a Steeler game in 2009. However, I have not been this happy with Chicago since Karl Malone won game 5 of the 1998 Finals with 39 & 19 to send the series back to Utah (in Game 6 Michael Jordan shoved Bryon Russell).  So let’s get into it, as I sit in a downtown Chicago Starbucks waiting for my 6:40pm train back east.

Days 1 & 2: Pittsburgh

The toughest part of any road trip is leaving and having my dog Cookie give me a sad look (she now understands that suitcases mean the big man is going to deeply betray her for 2-5 days).  I made my way to Newark Penn Station and hopped on the Pennsylvanian which runs from NYC to Pittsburgh. It is a cozy 9 hour ride, during which I read the newspaper, the New Yorker, The Atlantic, a little bit of a book and watched a couple of episodes of a Paramount+ show (FYI – Paramount+ is the single worst streaming app and it is not close, in terms of app crashes/failures/etc).

I arrived in Pittsburgh and went and checked into the nearby Hampton Inn.  The woman checking me in was extremely hot, but something about a folksy Pittsburgh accent makes even the hottest woman both approachable and reprehensible.  I mean it isn’t a Philly/Baltimore level accent atrocity, but it is a real boner killer, which does help when you have to walk away to the elevator to go to your room.  I then walked briskly to the Capital Grille before the closed, because I eat for the ticket sales I want, not the ticket sales I have.

I got a decent night’s sleep and then in the morning, after a 2 Belgian waffle breakfast (I have told people that I was made to be in the Midwest – *Ric Flair cadence* I’m a Church-attending, flannel wearing, cheesecake factory eating, fat son of a gun and I’m having a hard time keeping this cholesterol down… WOOOOOO!”) I checked out of the hotel. Now I took a long, thorough shower late that morning because I would have to appear on TV in Chicago before I might be able to shower again. I will explain later…

The show was at Club Cafe, which is a perfect place for someone possessing my apathetic fan base.  It is small enough that 50 people would feel like a crazy party, 40 would feel like a sold out club and 30 would give a feeling of pride.  How many people did I draw? 16, which is a number that gives “Joker origin story, pre-musical.”  The fans that did show up there were great and I am appreciative of their time, money and support and I think I gave them a strong show (it was always meant as a tune up for Chicago), but all I kept thinking toward the end of my set was “the stage is a little hotter than I expected – I hope this sweat doesn’t create a funk that lingers for TV tomorrow.

I said hi to the fans after the show (my third straight show where my opener’s fixed pay was higher than my ticket sales-dependent pay. This is known in the industry as “fucked.”  I then got on the midnight train to Chicago (the Capital Limited featuring the train attendant Carlos, a railroad joy well known to my Patreon subscribers).

Day 3: Trump Arrives in Chicago

When I woke up we were in Indiana, home of gay political icon Mike Pence. And also Pete Buttigieg.  We arrived in Chicago on time and I had a few hours to kill before Windy City Weekend. Now for the promised explanation:

Since the pandemic, Ryan Chiaverini, a TV host in Chicago (think if Ryan Reynolds were the Mario Lopez of Chicago), has been a big fan of my work, but unlike my other fans and my friends, he actually backed up that verbal support with action!  When I told him about my show, he told me he would be unable to make it, but could book me for a segment on Windy City Weekend.  I said yes, of course, and then the producer told me that I would need to arrive TV ready. Well, I was sleeping on an Amtrak on my way into Chicago overnight, so I guessed I would be TV ready, if the show were “Real Homeless Housewives of Chicago.”  Now I have been told that there are shower facilities in the Amtrak first class area of Chicago Union Station and I will leave the mystery of how I cleaned up for TV as a cliffhanger until I post video clips of my set in Chicago.

                                                    Ryan, Val, Amtrak Hobo

I arrived at Windy City Weekend 10 minutes early and met Ryan’s co-host, the lovely Val, then Ryan and then Ryan’s friend who I had done a cameo for a year or two ago (seriously folks – I am the cameo GOAT).  My segment went great (watch HERE) and then I met film critic Richard Roeper who was there for his usual segment and we shook hands, Twitter follower a Twitter follower.  I then made my way to Oak Park, IL to check into my hotel.

I killed some time, got some BBQ with my MPGA co-host, Jay and then we went over to the club. The club is new (and the town feels very new or refurbished) and really nice.  The show went great and it will be up on podcast platforms this week.  Without giving anything away, I believe the loudest laugh in show history may have been to Trump’s answer of “Narcan” to a question that was asked.  I then went to have a beer with some fans (the trio of gentlemen Andrew, Aaron and Kevin (gents – please correct me on names if I am wrong) who I met after my St Paul shows and they said they would be at an Oak Park show. They showed up 10 or so deep!  Promises Made – Promises Kept!) before retiring to my hotel room to watch Bill Maher complain for an hour.

Day 4: ChicaGOAT

When you have God and Trauma-given talent you can always be assured of delivering a good performance.  But you aren’t always guaranteed to set a suburb of Chicago ablaze. Well, Saturday night, Oak Park, Illinois was blessed to have me at my best.  The new hour of material killed (and I finally did the huge chunk on the NHL that I have been dying to do and it crushed) and the fans were great (i.e. no one had tips for me on how to improve jokes, but they did have money to buy merch!).

Nothing to see here – just a comedy icon taking the train like non-iconic people in Chicago

Opening both nights in Chicago was my friend, comedian Nick Cobb, who I probably have not seen in somewhere between 5 and 10 years, so that was a nice added bonus to working Comedy Plex.  Sadly, weekends like this are rarer than I would prefer (meaning I am not getting the bookings I desire), but they are so great when they happen that it keeps me going on my quixotic journey for sustained comedy success.

I felt especially generous complimenting the Chicago crowd on being home to the second best basketball player of all time #KingJames

Day 5: Mass and the Midwest

After a rise n grind meal of bagel, chocolate long john (the more homoerotic, the better the Dunkin Donut – hence why my favorite is one I have only found in Boston – the “chocolate glazed stick”) and coffee from Dunkin Donuts before walking to St Edmund’s for 9:15 Mass.

I will say this about the people of Chicago. More immature J-L would often comment that downtown Chicago just felt like a land of 5’7″-5’8″ 8s (in other words, if there were a draft of men for cities, like they were sports teams, Chicago would have me high on their draft board as someone who would fit in perfectly to their system of Midwestern values and breeding nice looking power forwards and left tackles).  Now while this remains more mature J-L’s assessment of the women of Chicago, he also noticed that people just seem friendlier here than in New York and New Jersey (not a big surprise I am sure, but it is deeper than just a cliche). Strangers of all races and genders said hello (to be fair this was also the case in St Pete’s Beach, FL). A woman broke off from her husband to ask me how I liked the book I was reading and told me the author has a new one out.  And the husband did not even ask to watch while we made love! Midwest values!

That said, it was not all perfect. When I went to see Smile 2 on Saturday afternoon, the theater machines would not let me order a milkshake, so I had to settle for a popcorn and water – disgraceful.  And the man sitting next to me in the theater was eating his wings  in a manner that led me to believe he was told it is rude to close your mouth while you chew.  And he went “mmm mmm mmm” every time something suspenseful happened, which in a two hour horror movie is pretty much all the time.  He would have been the worst, but for the woman who had her baby at the hard R-violent horror movie. Naturally, the baby cried at multiple spots until she finally stepped out of the theater (its almost like a baby instinctively recognizes that a woman having her eyeball cut out with glass is a “bad boo boo”).

But all in all, I had a great time on this trip and gave three good performances for 2.2 audiences (yes Pittsburgh – you are the 0.2).  I guess come see me in Emporia, Virginia or Princeton, New Jersey if you want to experience the same!

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The Best Trump Comedy Hour That (almost) No One…

Last night I had a live recording of Making Podcasts Great Again in Rutherford, New Jersey.  Making Podcasts Great Again is the show I have done for 6 1/2 years every week without missing a week as Donald Trump.  In 2020 we saw exponential growth commensurate with the exponential exposure I got for my viral videos of Trump and other political figures.  Over the last couple of years I reluctantly continued the show as Trump maintained his stranglehold on American politics and culture, but I decided 2024 would be the last year of the show.  As part of the farewell me and my show co-host, Jay Nog, scheduled a few live shows around the country.  This is the recap of the New Jersey show.

I arrived at the venue in my suit at 725 (my Lyft driver took a wrong turn or I would have been there earlier) for the 745 show. Fortunately Jay had gotten everything set up and our opener and friend, Chris Lamberth, was there. He would be doing double duty as both our warm up act and our special interview guest mid show.  I had messaged a NJ celebrity who follows me to be our guest but got no reply. A prominent NJ politician spoke with me on the phone but politely declined to be our guest.  So Chris stepped up to fill the gap (and for his efforts and the lack of attendance would leave the show as its highest paid participant).

Halfway through Chris’ twenty minute warm up set I threw on my red tie and blonde wig and began meandering around the theater lobby.  An older woman working there had the following conversation with me:

Woman: You’re playing Trump?

Me: Yep.

Woman: Are you voting for him?

Me: Nope!

Woman: oh, you’re not voting?

Me: Oh I’m voting. Just not for him.

Woman: Have you read his books?

Me: Nope!

Woman: His books show you the real him. You can’t trust the media… (trails off)

Then it was time for me to enter the theater to YMCA.

Now I had conservatively hoped that for my show which had once clocked 20K listens and downloads a week, plus my status as a New Jersey Q-list celebrity since 2020, would get us a minimum of 50 sales, but was really hoping for at least 100, especially given that we are a month from a consequential election.  I clearly was not conservative enough, because I think we had 25 audience members (with an additional 5 seats bought by a big fan for us to donate to listeners of the podcast – zero listeners requested any of the 5 free tickets).  I quickly shook of my disappointment and what transpired over the next hour was the best episode in the show’s history and the best personal performance of my career in any way, with the exception of the first taping (album version) of Half-Blackface.  It was that good and I was that good.

Despite the show, I have been in a funk most of today because I have reached the undeniable conclusion that my time has come and gone.  When I asked the audience last night how many people there listened to the podcast, exactly zero said yes.  So a Trump impression that has garnered about 40 million views has led to a microscopic percentage becoming listeners of a free Trump podcast.  And of that percentage, none appeared to attend the show last night (though, from a just received email it seems one listener did attend).  I have friends, family and a lot of fans in New Jersey, but whether it is bad luck, a loss of heat (though not of talent or new content), a changing culture of entertainment or some other reason, the career I have built and the audience I have attracted are not conducive to selling tickets (St Paul, MN appeared to be an outlier earlier this month).

But last night felt different.  The tragic irony of last night was that I really did have one of the greatest shows of my life in front of that small, but appreciative audience.  The episode should be up later this week when we get the audio, but the “Black Panther endorsed me” rant which was either 2 minutes or 20 minutes long (I really lost myself in it) might be the funniest thing I have ever done.  The greatest reward was probably seeing both Jay and Chris busting up laughing during the improv.  But the frustration that has set in today is something beyond the usual “post show crash” that can happen.  My biggest fear for many years has been making good work that does not get seen or heard.  This has nothing to do with fame or money.  But when I did not make some Internet “Top 10 Trump impressions” earlier this year it dawned on me that both the consumption and recognition I admittedly crave are not coming.  And the irony is that the better the shows I have, the more disappointed I am.  And last night was an absolute masterpiece.

The show was going so well I did the thing I am often incapable of doing: held my tongue in the face of blatant disrespect. One audience member, who was with a very supportive fan (which I learned after the fact) was doing fairly loud commentary throughout the show.  It was often repeating punchlines or simply proclaiming his enjoyment loudly, and that would have only registered as annoying.  But at one point a phone went off.  I made a passing comment (always in character), but then it went off again. I then said something again, to which this audience member said, “there’s like 15 people in here.”  Now having a great show is always a challenge. But having a killer show while fighting off the deep disappointment of subpar ticket sales is an even greater victory.  Apparently this person felt that a small audience was not worthy of respectful behavior. Conversely, I think that the fans who did show up deserve even more respect because their individual presence is that much more essential and appreciated.  So I let it slide again to not ruin the show. And mind you, when not offering snide comments or echo responses he was laughing hysterically.  However, the worst was yet to come.

At the end of our live shows we do a Q&A (not for tik tok content BS, but because people want to interact with the impression(s)). The rude audience member asked a question, but then towards the end (two questions left) I heard him say “OK, this is done.”  Now everyone was laughing still, but it took everything I had not to hurl the microphone at this person and choose violence. In fact, I stayed in the green room after the show because I would rather miss fans and avoid being enraged than thank my fans and risk losing my temper.

So if any of my fans who were there read this or end up listening to the podcast, thank you for being there.  I have the type of career where I have hundreds of thousands of followers (the most passive level of fan), but far fewer real fans.  I did not have a real choice in who followed me and I am grateful for all the exposure, but I have a deep appreciation for the real fans I do have.  I just wish their support could be rewarded with a more successful comedian.

Last night’s show was like that old “if a tree falls in the forest , but no one is around, does it make a sound?” saying.  What I can say is that last night a couple dozen people saw that best Trump parody that has ever been.  I am certain of that.  So it may not make a blip on Hollywood’s radar, but it certainly made a lot of sound last night.

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Road Comedy Recap: Thirty Thursday in Philadelphia

On Thursday I had my show in Philadelphia, at what I hope will become my new Philadelphia home for stand-up, Punchline Comedy Club.  I have performed in Philadelphia for 13 years, with over a dozen appearances featuring, headlining, recording 2 albums and doing a corporate event for Comcast (now Xfininty?) at Helium, then a nearly packed show at City Winery last year (but my paltry ticket sales at their Pittsburgh venue a few months later appeared to bury me for future shows with the chain – but thank you to my fans who wrote after that they should have gone…).  So I then went to the other club in Philly (thanks to comedian Chip Chantry for making the introduction).  Last week I was told that I had sold 14 tickets.  Not that day last week. In total.  So I proceeded to make every social media post I could in the remaining 6 days before the show and turned to God, the only agent I need (or apparently can get).  So here is how my one-nighter played out in Philadelphia.

Rise n Grind n Stress

I woke up at 5:30am because I have not slept well in over a decade.  That combined with being 6’7″, overweight and filled with an ever-present rage should make the next 5-40 years a real Russian Roulette for survival.  I ate breakfast, read the New York Times and then began my day job work (when you sell 45 tickets WITH a co-headliner in Pittsburgh leading to a $37 cut after City Winery’s costs are taken out, you need another stream of income.  I took a break to have an intense workout in my building gym during my lunch break (every workout tends to be intense when you are 65 lbs overweight – who needs deadlifts when you need to get up from the couch?) and then caught the 2:10 NJ transit to Newark Broad Street.

in pants and a long sleeve shirt I trudged through downtown Newark to Penn Station with a brief stop at Starbucks for tea, a cookie and an AC break.  I then arrived at Newark Penn Station (its motto is “we’re here to make New York Penn Station look safe and clean by comparison”) and went to Track 3 for my Amtrak to Philly. I discovered for the first time that the platform for Amtrak has an air conditioned seating area which helped dry the Patrick Ewing-at-the-foul-line amount of sweat pouring from me. Then my train arrived and I headed for the business class car (I have so many upgrades that I am going to be using them on every trip for the next year). Me below entering the car:

My seat was next to a nice looking woman who appeared in her late 50s (sadly, despite that being my prime demo from YouTube, she did not seem to recognize me.  When I arrived in Philly I had 3 hours before showtime so I decided to head to the Cheesecake Factory, a mile away. Begin sweaty walk 2.

I finalized my set list over a salmon dinner and then, to calm my nerves which were frayed to say the least (new club always stresses me and 14 tickets sales were making me stressed and embarrassed – a place I did not expect or want to be in at 45 years old), I dug into a coconut cream piece cheesecake slice.  As the cheesecake high washed over me I felt calm and prepared for my set so I headed to the train to make my way to the Punchline.

I got on the Market-Frankford line and I had 7 stops to go. I quickly noticed that the Philly subway is very different than New York’s. New York’s subway has plenty of unsavory types on it, but usually they are outnumbered 40 to 1 in a typical NYC subway.  As I looked around the Philly train car I was in I thought, “hey, where are all the normal people?” I arrived at my station safe and walked about 7 minutes to the club, which for a while I thought was a trick, like Tommy DeVito getting made in Goodfellas, because it seemed to be an abandoned area of Philadelphia, until like a gentrification oasis in the Philly desert, a collection of new, hip buildings emerged in view.

You Can Find Me in The Club (Can you find my fans?)

I made my way into the club about 40 minutes before showtime and saw less than ten people in the crowd.  Anxiety level 10.  I chatted with the emcee and the feature before the show where we discussed how terrible the stand up world is and how I should definitely not ride the subway back to 30th street station after dark.  The staff at the club treated me really well and that was nice – so what if you draw worse than a 4 year old in art class, you are the headliner and will be accorded that respect.  But then a miracle happened about 20 minutes before I went on stage. The manager, who told me “Welcome to Live Nation” (the club is a live nation venue), which made me feel like Sean Connery has just said “Welcome to the Rock!” asked me if I did any media the day of the show. I said no (despite me begging every club I work to go on the radio). He said, “well you sold 30 tickets today, which is a bump that usually only happens with a media appearance.”  Anxiety level 5.

Now to be clear, I have given myself the nickname “league minimum,” because no matter how good my comedy and how large my social media following, most venues I perform at end up paying me the minimum agreed upon terms and the Punchline would be no different (if I had sold 3 more tickets I would have moved into the additional payment level, but I think it would have been more embarrassing to have to be paid an additional 13 dollars on my check).  In fact the last time I did an August weekday show in Philadelphia it was 2018 and I sold 70 tickets at the venue (with 30 additional comps) for a very respectable Wednesday showing.  But after multiplying my following by 40x since then I was not able to reach that number.  Seems to defy logic that a comedian could become 40x more popular and sell fewer tickets, but here we are.

                                It was a long, anxiety-inducing journey to this show, but it was worth it

That said, those thirty clutch purchasers (which is at least as much the work of the Punchline who do a commendable job promoting shows, which I cannot say for all venues) bolstered an audience that were great laughers and good merchandise purchasers.  I left The Punchline exhausted, sweaty and satisfied (and hope The Punchline at least gives my stage and box office results a passing grade).  I opted to take a Lyft to 30th street station, which got me there with minutes to spare. I got on the train, sat in my leather business class seat and exhaled.

Heading and Sweating Home

We arrived at Newark Penn 8 minutes early (I could tell the Amtrak was going “opening scene of Unbreakable” level fast but I exited the train before I had my superhero powers put to the test.  But with no light rail headed to Newark Broad and no bus leaving until midnight I decided to walk the 25 minutes through Newark at 11:30 pm.  The last time I did this walk was leaving an Elton John concert at Prudential and it did not feel safe (if you recall that blog – the lack of police presence was clear from the drug users and homeless in the street (not sidewalk, the street) and the fights over drugs we witnessed, until we saw two police cars guarding… a film set.  This time I felt safe and like I had finally burned off half of the coconut cheesecake.

I got home at 12:15 am and ate a piece of my girlfriend’s Fudgie The Whale birthday cake (she’s in her 40s, but is 8 in cake choice years) to make sure I added those walk and sweat calories back.  I took a quick shower to get the day’s work off of me and crawled into bed thankful for a good show and those 30 late comers who helped make it so.

For a fun clip from the show (and a lot more bonus material) head to www.Patreon.com/JLCauvin (or the tab above).

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Road Comedy Recap: House of the Mohegan Sun

Last Thursday I performed for the first time in 11 years at Comix Roadhouse, the comedy club located at Mohegan Sun Casino in Uncasville, CT.  Here is the blog I wrote after my performance in 2013  Despite my optimism I was never booked again at the club until last week.  It was a live Making Podcasts Great Again episode and, as always, I delivered a masterpiece. But like so much of my comedy career, the show was only a part of the story. So here we go!

For the trip I had to pack my suit, props and overnight stuff, which was more cumbersome than the usual overnight comedy gig. So with a small bag and a garment bag I lumbered to the 4:43pm NJ transit after a full day of remote legal work and then made the 5:49 train to Valhalla, NY, with only a few minutes to spare, to meet my show co-host, Jay.  He picked me up at the train and we made the 2 hour and change ride to Mohegan Sun.

When we got to the casino at 8:50pm I checked in to the hotel with my hips killing me (like most big dogs I am having hip pain as I deteriorate rapidly) and made an incredibly long walk to the Earth tower.  I guess it’s called Earth, because it… kept me grounded:

I got to my room, which was nice and proceeded to change into my Navy suit.  In addition to being in terrible shape (which as an unintentional method actor, makes for perfect role play as Trump), I also am conscious to commit multiple fashion faux pas as Trump (my Black shoes and belt with my blue suit). As I stared at myself in my numerous hotel room mirrors I had an ever more commonly occurring thought, “what the fu*k am I doing?”

Once I arrived at the club I ordered a chicken fingers and Pepsi backstage because I am a 6’7″ 300 lb child.  I put my wig on, ran through some segments with Jay and then went out on stage after our comedian opener was done.

The live Trump shows have really been some of my best work as a comedian and performer

As I discovered in Vegas in March, I am even better doing the Trump show live than I am on the podcast.  You will be able to listen to the episode this week and watch it (if you are a Patreon member of the show).  We had some fans at the show and many casino attendees just looking for something to do.  After the show a woman who was in Trump attire and a huge MAGA fan told me she loved the show (my politics are clear, but some MAGA folk still find the show funny). I then shared a drink and cheesecake with a fan named Bruce (I had a slice of cheesecake and he had a beer) after the show.  My fans know that the sad state of my career has a distinct benefit – more attention to individual fans!

I bid Bruce adieu and then went to sleep in the Earth tower at around 1 am.  And then at 3 am my TV turned on by itself to the welcome screen. It was so disorienting that I assumed that it was daybreak. But after my old man piss I stumbled back to the bed and looked at the clock and realized I just had horrible luck. Despite the comfort and pitch blackness of the room, the TV must have decided that my diet and stress were not enough to guarantee a heart attack – I need horrible sleep every night as well!

I woke up at 730 the next morning, checked out and had some Starbucks burnt-ass coffee before ordering my Lyft to the New London, CT Amtrak station.  We had a pleasant ride for the most part and I learned that 24 hours earlier, my Lyft driver had found out that he had a son he had never known about. Through 23 & me he found out he had a son with a one night stand in California when they were both 16.  His son is now in his 30s, was a military veteran, cop and retired MMA fighter, at which point I said, make sure he knows that you had no idea he existed!  And also please make sure he doesn’t know I exist because that is an aggressive pro-Trump triple crown.

Eventually I got home at 140pm that day and was greeted by Cookie with the usual smattering of whimpers and tail wags.  Unlike 2013, however, despite an even better performance this time, I am guessing this is my Last of the Mohegan.  Head to the calendar to get tickets to our NJ and NYC shows this Fall.

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Road Comedy Recap: Larchmont Legend

This past weekend I found myself performing in a co-work space (is that what they are called?) in Larchmont, New York. The location, I learned when I was booked, is called The Idea Kitchen, which made me think it was a bar or restaurant, a more normal place to perform for comedians.  But it turns out that only thing cooking at the Idea Kitchen are ideas!  Well, sometimes the strangest places to perform end up being some of the best shows. Was this such a case?  Keep reading to find out (*clicks out of blog because more than one paragraph feels like homework*).

Animals and Dogs on Metro North

As I waited for the train from Bloomfield to Manhattan on NJ Transit I noticed that waiting for my train was one of the most attractive women I have ever seen.  Imagine if Megan Goode were 5’9″, wearing a Houston Texans jersey tied up Men on Film style, with short jean shorts and a prettier face than Megan Good.  If this sounds like fantasy that is why I kept pinching her on the platform to see if I was dreaming (it turns out I am supposed to pinch myself, lesson learned).  It is not low self esteem for me to wonder what the hell this woman was doing (and presumably living?) in my town.  Perhaps she heard in 2020 that it was a place of entertainment superstars (true), but since 2022 the clout and value of those superstars has plummeted and she can’t yet get out of a long term lease.

When I arrived in Manhattan I made my way to Grand Central for a 6:36pm train to Larchmont.  I arrived 25 minutes early and since I had burned at least 100 calories on my walk there I figured I had earned a 690 calorie milkshake and 450 calorie hamburger from Shake Shack.  As I finished I walked on to my train to see in my car:

  • a mother and daughter combo with their bare feet on their seats
  • a man and woman with their large dog (65+ lbs) on a seat eating dog food off a plate on another seat
  • a woman with her large dog lying in the aisle (the least offensive but still impeded someone from going into another train car

I sat down and read my book and fortunately only had to shut out two different cell phones blaring mindless content.  Of course, just like Michael Jordan needed angry motivation before games, boiling with anger at the lack of manners and decency in society always puts me in the right frame of mind for a comedy show (to my comedically challenged fans – that is sarcasm)

The Idea Kitchen

When I arrived at the Idea Kitchen is when I realized it was a co-working space and not a restaurant.  It was basically a full house (I would guess over 50 people) in the area and the show went great.  I continued working on my new material, which may be ready to be my 9th stand up album at the end of the year (tentative title: With Fans Like These, Who Needs Euthanasia?). The crowd were great laughers and picked up on almost everything I was putting down.  I left shortly after my set because I had to coordinate the right Metro North train so as not to miss the 2nd to last train to my town on NJ Transit.  Here’s a quick new bit from the show (others are on my patreon *stop reading, block J-L on all social media*):

Lovely Ladies of Metro North

When I got on my Metro North train I noticed our train had a petite, very cute  Latina ticket taker.  if there is an indicator that the Biden economy is not working it is hot women taking the train and working on the train.  What is this World War 2?! Of course I immediately thought, “how is that woman going to protect herself if an unruly passenger does not want to pay?”  I got my answer in the more brash, older Latina woman who was also working the train. The woman who could have been her mother in terms of age difference and similar size, got on the PA system about 10 minutes into the ride and said the following (I am closely paraphrasing): “I want to go through a few of the rules with everyone as we ride. Smoking and vaping are not allowed on this train since forever. Please don’t do it. Be courteous of your fellow travelers. And the seats are not footrests (this is where I got slightly aroused. And by slightly I mean fully). if you can see it, feel it or smell it you have probably stepped in it (bars) and we don’t want that on the seats. Please be courteous and have a great trip.”  At this point I realized that my love of trains, manners and Latin women had just gelled on this one soft core porn train ride back to the city.  But then my integrity was tested and I failed.

When cute Latina ticket taker took my ticket she went to the woman behind me (I could only hear her) and asked for her ticket. The woman in a “I am usually entitled but I am putting on my most submissive voice” said she had come from a different car and forget to take her ticket marker with her.  Now I spotted a lie in her description because I knew she had come from the other side she was claiming.  Cute Latina ticket taker was not convinced and had her own sweet voice she threw back at her but accepted her explanation. Meanwhile me listening to this conversation:

When we were close to the city the woman behind me got up and my usual impeccable, integrity-filled disgust at someone trying to sneak a train ride completely dissolved.  Rocking a sort of 2015 Demi Lovato haircut and filling out a jumpsuit in a way that I had never seen in person before, I immediately offered to pay her ticket and her rent for the next 6 months.  Once again, this was supposed to be something I merely thought and made a joke about, not a literal offer to be made out loud.  Lesson learned.

The Way Home

With some time to spare I walked from Grand Central to Penn Station. Feeling both elated from a good show and the vitrual 4some on the train (the older ticket taker would be invited simply because her wit and integrity is always welcome to be in the room, but only as support/personal assistant for cute ticket taker and jumpsuit Lovato) I did what I always do when I am depressed or happy – I got a milkshake.

It has been years since I had a Mr. Softee milkshake and I spotted a truck by the 42nd street library.  I ordered a chocolate milkshake and when Mr Softee said “twelve dollars” I instinctively blew on my rape whistle and ran to Penn Station.

I got on the 11:11 train home and was happy for a great night when a man dropped his beer as he fell asleep and some of it splashed my jeans.  Did he apologize? Of course not. Did it conveniently mask some of the stains on my pants from earlier train rides? A gentleman of the rails never tells.

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Road Comedy Recap: Berkshires Brilliance

This past weekend I travelled to West Stockbridge, MA in the Berkshires to perform at The Foundry, a wonderful and intimate (when comedians cannot sell a lot of tickets we use intimate to make it sound like it was a choice) venue.  As a distinguished alumnus of Williams College, the most notable landmark in the Berkshires, I expected a hero’s welcome.  The Prodigal B Student has returned!  Well, this was more like The Good Samaritan, where the people I expected to show up did not, but many people I did not expect to did and made for a really great show.  So without further delay, let’s get into it!

Big Comedian, Mini Cooper

I made my way into south Harlem to get a ride with comedian and show producer Kevin Bartini.  To kill some time I wandered Frederick Douglass Blvd, just one bi-racial legend crossing literal paths with another. I also noticed a lot more of the people walking the streets had more of a resemblance to Douglass’ father than his mother.  If I can paraphrase the great Gary Gulman, “There’s Malcolm X Blvd, I live more int he Malcom Gladwell section of Harlem, but not the Malcolm in the Middle section.”

I met Kevin at his apartment and he pointed me to a Mini Cooper. When I saw the car I assumed Kevin would sit in there and a horse trailer would be coming for me to load myself into.  But alas, it did not arrive so I folded myself and my bad knees and my increasingly bad hips for the 2.5 hour drive to West Stockbridge.

We Sold Tickets? We Sold Tickets!

When we arrived at The Foundry (which based on its regal name and its small capacity feels like a perfect place for me to record a special – I began my path to humor as the joker on the Williams College basketball team (not joker as in Jokic, but joker as in makes lots of (too many) jokes) and perhaps it could end in The Berkshires as well.  At the front desk we realized we were going to easily clear 50 tickets sold (this may not seem impressive, but we were at 4 tickets sold five days earlier).  The one thing I have experienced trying to transition from middle act to headliner (I have always identified as a headliner, but over the last few years, thankfully, I have been able to express my comedian identity and live my low-ticket-selling-truth) is that for most shows, because most of my fans stink and my good fans are procrastinators, I am stressed on ticket sales instead of mentally prepping for my set for most shows.  It is really taking a lot of the enjoyment out of it for me, but that is the important “business” in showbusiness.

Kevin opened the show and was followed by a regional radio personality Steve Nagle and both set the table wonderfully.  I then took the stage and had a great time. Working about 75% new material, so much worked, the crowd was great (it skewed older, but I am realizing that just like with porn, I am starting to really warm up to the 60 and older crowd) and I was feeling that dangerous thing that has teased and tortured me throughout my almost 21 years doing stand-up comedy: hope.  I sold a decent amount of merch after and just felt good.  But the Lord giveth and he taketh away.

                                                                                        King of The Berkshires

New Jersey Transit Can Ruin Anything

We got back in Kevin’s Mini Cooper and made our way to NY Penn Station for my train back to NJ.  I figured I would get the 1:19am, which is the last train to my town on a Saturday (or first Sunday technically), but as Kevin made good time, I realized the 12:34am train was in play.  I have enjoyed the extra money, extra space and extra quiet in my move from NYC to NJ.  But living your life at the whim of NJ transit is not a good way to live. It is the worst.  Metro North and LIRR are Uber Black compared to NJ transit in terms of service.  And here is where the great day, or technically it is the next day, gets ruined.

Kevin dropped me off with 7 minutes to spare.  A homeless man in a wheelchair asked me to buy him something from a food truck.  I walked a few steps away and then my guilty conscience, which almost never shuts off, said “give him some money.”  I handed him a $5 and he then began to ask me if I could get him something from the truck. I felt bad, but told him I was sorry and had to run. Hopefully someone facilitated the purchase.

When I got to Penn Station every 8th avenue entrance was closed (of course, why should I be able to get my train at the train station) so I power walked (bad hips and knees) to 7th avenue and got in with 2 minutes to spare to see a huge crowd of people waiting for trains.  Of course the trains were all delayed.  In fact, the 12:34 never arrived and I got a 1:01am train to Newark to then get a Lyft back to my town.  And while waiting for that 1:01 train I saw thousands of Morgan Wallen fans arrive (his audience appears to be 17-20 year old white trash for whom (who or whom? Can never figure that one out) the N word is not a deal breaker in 2024) in Penn Station.  Why do I mention that? Because a lot of Morgan Wallen fans then turned right around to get on trains back to NJ because they are as dumb as you might imagine.

i arrived home at 2am to be greeted by an ecstatic Cookie and could only sleep 5 hours before going to early Mass and a book event at a Manhattan Holocaust Museum, which was still uplifting compared to NJ Transit.

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Speakerphone: The Sound of a Failed Society

I can admit that I am a bit old fashioned when it comes to cell phone etiquette, if cell phones are even old enough to have an old-fashioned division.  I think a phone should be on silent or vibrate.  I think if you watch shows or listen to music on your phone you should use headphones. And phone conversations in public should be like abortion for Democrats in the 90s: safe, legal and rare.  I know… real Puritanical shit on my part.  But as the smart phone midwifes society to engage and augment humanity’s worst impulses, I have noticed the speakerphone conversation becoming almost ubiquitous (not that everyone does it, but that at least one person will always be doing it no matter where you are).  While I wallow in my post concert come down (last night was Bruce Springsteen in Vegas – no more details until the April 4th Rain on Your Parade podcast) I thought why not write this week about the most recent bane of my existence.

Many of us remember Nextel’s walkie talkie function, which allowed attention and cashed starved teens to engage in loud, public conversations with the added pleasure of walkie talkie beeps.  But speakerphone, like so much tech, used to be something to enhance productivity (and the great sin of modern life – convenience).  It would allow you to do something manual while also having a phone conversation (someone with what Mike Pence would call “broad shoulders” could always rest the phone in between your head and shoulder, but speakerphone was much more comfortable).

But as cell phones became more and more common we found new ways to be discourteous.  I did an entire episode of Rain on Your Parade about smartphones, but regretted afterwards not even bringing up speakerphone.  Walking and texting, ADD, using phones during movies, not silencing phones during theater, diminishing people’s abilities to have conversation or eye contact – the jury is in and smart phones are a net negative for humanity, aided in part by a generation of ruthless, manipulative billion dollar companies.  But speakerphone?  That’s on us.

A switch was clearly flipped during the rise of the smart phone.  Rarely anyone, save the Radio Raheems of the world, listened to music out loud in public on their personal devices.  Headphones and the more recent advance of wireless earbuds make it clear how you are supposed to listen to music in public. But perhaps with that advent of Tik Tok and streamers, people view their phones more like their TVs or computers and don’t instinctively reach for ear buds.  I am sorry – let me correct that – stupid, fu*king, rude people view them that way.  But J-L, it feels like you are calling a sizeable part of the population “stupid, fu*king rude”?  Yes. Yes I am.

The inspiration for this post came yesterday as I took a Greyhound bus from Los Angeles to Las Vegas.  The bus driver made an explicit message at the beginning of the ride that phones should be used silently for the convenience of the passengers.  I looked around and realized that I, in fact, was included among these “passengers” whose convenience was being protected.  What occurred was a level of diversity that would make the most hard core progressive’s heart swell with pride and a rudeness display that made this less hard core progressive want to steer the bus into oncoming traffic.

First was the Latin couple who had a series of incredibly loud speaker phone conversations (when their stripper daughter picked them up at the bus station I felt a swell of forgiveness for them). I’d say it was a total of about 50 minutes.  I had Beats noise cancelling headphones on (I gave up on reading on the ride due to the noise) and yet Beats has clearly never tested their merchandise on a crowded Greyhound bus.

The real MVP of the trip was the Black woman behind me who, after we left Barstow, California, proceeded to have a 2 hour loud, vulgarity and homophobia-laced conversation on speakerphone.  If you follow me on Twitter or Instagram you can hear a short and full version of some of the audio I was able to capture, under the guise of recording video of America’s beautiful landscapes.

When I left Barstow the signs were all there that the ride was about to get a lot worse

And perhaps in the spirit of When in Rome, or in a more spiteful, MAGA-esque “why do the minorities get to have all the stuff?!” an elderly white woman got on a speakerphone conversation towards the end of the ride for 15 minutes.  Now full disclosure, my mom is an 80 year old white woman with diminished hearing and this is how she prefers to use her cell phone.  Now, based on both my sympathies for older people and the fact that they make up a majority of my fans based on YouTube algorithms, I often carve out exceptions for them with issues related to tech.  But today is not that day.  My Mom often says “I hate this thing” of her cell phone.  Well to the Moms and Grandmothers of the world I say put your money where your hate is – no more speakerphone in public.

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Road Comedy Recap: The King of Princeton

This weekend I returned to Catch A Rising Star in Princeton, New Jersey for a pair of shows.  It has been far too long since I did a road recap blog, but there have been good reasons why I have not written a road recap blog in a while. The first is that I did not have as many gigs as I would like. The second is most of my fans seem to detest reading.  The third is I did not want to.  But other than those three small impediments, I was pumped to write! And now, with part of my New Year’s Resolutions was to resume blogging once a week, here we are!

Friday was a surprise sell out (usually Saturdays sell out but Fridays can be a tough draw) and the crowd was superb (good laughers, hecklers that were brought to heel easily, and big merch purchasers).  After the show I rewarded myself with a Haagen Dazs ice cream bar and a smart water (better known as “the gentleman’s threesome”)  and fell asleep. Here’s a fun clip from the Friday show:

I woke up Saturday with a full day ahead of me in Princeton, but I opted to catch up on a lot of writing that I needed to do (these brilliant, lightly-viewed sketches do not write themselves folks!).  So I was holed up in my room in the Hyatt and managed to write so much I had no time left for the gym (nothing like avoiding something to make me productive). I did make it out for a brief meal at PF Chang’s, where I received the most J-L on brand fortune cookie of all time:

It’s good to know that my 20 years doing stand-up will pay off somewhere

The show Saturday night was a sell out as well, but the crowd had a few more annoying people in it than Friday  And though they did not buy merch, several people expressed their disappointment that my merch cost $20 (one guy said “Hey I gotta be honest.” Really? I mean you can offer me your unsolicited opinion, but I don’t think you were subpoenaed. You always had the option of saying nothing. And with the prices of hats right now, I am not sure $20 is the sticker shock for the rest of the country (or the show 24 hours earlier) that it was for the trolls on Saturday.

Despite having a hotel provided for another night I went to the Princeton NJ transit station to go home that night.  I  Shortly before midnight I was greeted by my dog Cookie with whimpers and spins because my 30 hour absence felt like a month to her.

Tell your friends in the Tampa, FL area that I am headed their way! Because what comedy fan wouldn’t want to be part of comedy blog history?

 

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Road Comedy Recap: New England, Old Problems

This past weekend I made my way to New England for shows in Boston, MA and Fairfield, CT.  The gigs featured trademarks of J-L Cauvin comedy shows: A+ material, small crowds, meager profits and travel discomfort.  I cannot think of any other witty things to put in this intro so let’s just get into it!

Boston

I made my way to Boston on the Acela, the northeast Amtrak line that gets you to Boston 20 minutes faster for only $8000 more. Unfortunately and unexpectedly, the seats on the Acela were uncomfortable for me due to my never-ending recovery from shoulder surgeries. The only comfort I had for most of the trip was the knowledge that I was not traveling with the poors.  But then I noticed the man sitting adjacent from me was watching season six of Billions.  As you should know, if you are reading my blog, which you are if you are reading this, I was in episode 5 of season 6 of Billions and I realized that this man was on episode 3 of the season.  With 3 hours until Boston I realized he would get into my episode if he continued watching.  Well, after taking a break in the snack car, I returned to my seat to see him in episode 5.  I got out my phone (what is a better photo than taking a picture of someone watching your show while you sit behind them?) and was prepared to tap him on the shoulder when I appeared on screen and say, “THAT’S ME!” in the worst Make-A-Wish ever.  And then, with less than 5 minutes before my first scene, he closed his tablet because he was getting off at the Rt 128 stop, a stop about 20 minutes before downtown Boston.  Classic J-L Jinx.

The man on the train missed out on this and other moments!

Before going to City Winery I checked into the hotel, the Boston Wharf Hotel.  My friend and opener for the night, Joe Pontillo was arriving later, but given the weather I changed my hotel from a (Tall) King bed to a Yassss Two Queen beds room. When he arrived I learned the first of many sad truths about the Boston Wharf Hotel, a hotel that looked like a million bucks and delivered 5 dollar service.  $50 parking for the night!? I asked if that came with a hooker/sex worker/vaginal entrepreneur and they said no.

Joe and I made it to the venue around 6:15 and with no one helping us get the car into the parking lot I made my way into the venue and asked for help. They told me I could go to the parking lot and buzz him in.  I went into the parking lot and no one answered the buzzer. Then some turd kicked the door stop, which left me in a cold parking lot unable to get Joe’s car into the lot and unable to get back into the venue. It felt like I was rebooting Spinal Tap into a depressing 10 minute drama.  Nothing makes you feel like a headliner than being your own, inept parking attendant.  But then, in a Shining like experience, an older Black man opened the door and let me back in (he must have sensed my despair). Once someone let Joe in we both ate some delicious pre-show salmon (my reminder that it was a Friday during Lent guilted Joe into ordering the same) and took some photos in the room posing as our green room.  Then Jocelyn, our great handler (she was guiding the ship on my last trip to Boston as well) said they wanted to delay the start of the show because a lot of ticket purchasers had not yet showed up.  Some little inside industry info – when a show has to start late because of lack of audience, that is not a great thing.  But then a bunch of people actually started filing in and I felt temporary relief.

Chairman of the City Winery Board

The show went really well (for the unvarnished truth listen to this week’s Righteous Pk Podcast) and I met several people who had come to the show just looking for comedy and thought I was great (in my years long struggle to woo comedy fans and not just bored people who like impressions, gaining people who only know me for stand up is a Godsend).  After the show Joe, my college friend Duane and I went to a nice Italian restaurant for some drinks and bites and then left to go back to the hotel.  And like a movie that you think is about to end, but then goes on for an hour more, the Boston Wharf Hotel front desk and valet now had their time to shine.  I don’t want to bore you with the details, but at 1115 pm at a luxury looking hotel, with no other customers at the front desk and no other cars seeking valet service, 40 minutes is a long time to have to wait.

In the morning, Joe and I made our way home with a stop in a Connecticut IHOP for a breakfast where Joe marveled at the speed with which I inhale 5 pancakes, 4 sausage links (insert Mike Pence running gif here) and a partridge and a pear tree.

Fairfield

After a restful Saturday it was time to perform in Fairfield. Having not seen my Mom in a few weeks I met my Mom in midtown before catching a Metro North to Fairfield.  We went to Shake Shack, at which point she handed me a stack of money to take a cab home to NJ… from Fairfield. “There’s a lot of shit going on in the subways,” my Mom told me at which point, her 6’7″ son with money and anger issues channeled Walter White said, “On the subway, I am the shit!” Like so many of the people hearing my jokes, my Mom did not get the reference.  After Shake Shack I made my way to a packed train (I wish John Wick existed and the only people he went after were people who put their feet on train seats and people who listen to music and videos on their phones in public spaces without headphones). We arrived at the station at 7pm and it was literally 50 steps from the theater.

The small theater was great and the theater said they could tape our sets on their brand new, state of the art video system.  I had brought my camera, but when I saw their set up I said I definitely wanted them to video tape on their system.  We had 25 audience members, but at least half of them appeared to be actual fans or friends of mine (thank you!) and my pay was not contingent on ticket sales, so no pressure!  I ended up having an outstanding set with all new material for my next hour and a lot of good ad libs.  And just to be safe, 15 minutes before my set I went to the video guy and confirmed that he was recording the sets.  You know where this is going…

On the train back at 1015 pm (a 90 minute train ride sitting next to a mother-daughter combo listening to loud music on one phone for the entire ride – teaching the next generation to be inconsiderate assholes warms the heart) I got a text from the show producer saying, “You are really jinxed – the theater forgot to turn on the video recording system). At this point I spiritually gave up on my comedy career.  It is not the big things that break you folks – I am still performing and keeping up hope for my special(s), despite 501 days and counting of abject despair. But when pressing record proves too big a lift for a show? – that is the stuff that breaks me.  I eventually made it home (only had to take a cab home from Newark, so “unnecessary cash from Mom” proves to once again be one of the most profitable sources of money in my stand-up comedy career – $120 profit on cab money from Mom compared to $170 profit on gig in Boston, which was a lower profit margin than my opener Joe).

Thanks to everyone who came to the shows, but more importantly, thank you to everyone who did not.  In the words of George W. Bush after a different tragedy, “I hear you!”

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Road Comedy Recap: Destroying York and Nyack

I am sitting in my old midtown Starbucks writing this in between another day at the law firm and before getting a haircut at my old barber shop before heading downtown to do a show at a restaurant for no money before returning to NJ for the night. So if you thought anything in my career or life had changed, it seems it has: I have a much longer commute home.

This blog is delayed by about 3 days because I was sick on Sunday, the Lord’s blogging day, and could not hammer this out.  And then I had a busy week of podcasting and day jobbing and insomnia-ing.  So this brief moment in between work, chores and unpaid comedy is when I can recount for you the absolute comedic destruction I delivered on Friday and Saturday.  At this point, my comedy career feels like Neon in Blue Chips if Nick Nolte (and no one else) had ever discovered him in a small gym in “ALGIERS?!” He’d still be giving people work, but spending the rest of his days in business casual attire looming over a bunch of co-workers.  So let’s get to it before this Starbucks closes…

Friday in York – Jean Betterman

I was picked up by friend and comedian Chris Lamberth from my apartment Friday afternoon for our journey to York, PA.  We discusses movies and comedy for three hours and then got to our hotel. It was not a Hampton Inn so I cannot mention it as I try to preserve my potential future as a Hampton Inn spokesman (they get a solid shout out on my seemingly never to be released special Half Blackface, for which there will be a live memorial service on Sunday with my Patreon – if you want a ton of exclusive sketch videos, podcasts and more from me for very cheap you can join – just kidding! If you are a #fan of mine reading this, the last thing you want is to pay me for comedy).  We then went to the Appell Center for the Arts in downtown York, and to my surprise the show was a sell out (I think lots of people just go to whatever is in town, but I did have plenty of fans there as well).

Daphne London led off the show with some funny musical comedy and then Chris did his thing from the middle spot.  And then I killed it.  There’s really nothing left to share.  I had a set that was so strong with 80% new material since the two tapings of Half Blackface that I wish I had recorded it on high quality video and then thrown it out just to replicate the feeling from my greatest set ever in October 2021.  I felt great after, sold a bunch of albums and then went to Iron Horse York for a post show meal celebrating my triumph.  I ate a delicious piece of cake and went to sleep.

Saturday – Raising Money for Democrats in Nyack

Chris and I left York at 730 the next morning (or thereabouts) and made it an hour or so before stopping at an IHOP.  After crushing that we went all the way back to NJ.  But it was a quick turnaround for me because I had to go to Nyack to headline a small fundraiser for Democrats in Clarkstown, NY.  Because NJ transit is dumb, here was how I had to go:

  • 5:05 train to NY Penn Station
  • Walk to Grand Central
  • Get the 6:45 express Metro North to Tarrytown
  • Take a Lyft across the Mario Cuomo (birth name Tappan Zee before it wanted to play boys’ sports) Bridge to the venue in Nyack

But J-L, why don’t you get a car?  BECAUSE I AM NOT AN ENVIRONMENT DESTROYING LAZY PIECE OF SHIT. I LIVE NEAR THE TRAIN AND BUS AND FOR THE 2-3 DAYS A MONTH WHERE A CAR WOULD MAKE A DIFFERENCE IN MY LIFE IT IS NOT WORTH THE INSURANCE, PARKING AND COSTS OF MANUFACTURING!  PERHAPS IF MORE AMERICANS WOULD STOP LIVING IN NAVEL GAZING BUBBLES WHERE THEY BELIEVE THEIR ACTIONS HAVE NO CONSEQUENCES AND THEIR CONVENIENCE IS NOT ALWAYS WHAT IS BEST FOR THE WORLD THEY MIGHT STOP BITCHING ABOUT GAS PRICES AND TAKE PUBLIC TRANSIT OR WALK INSTEAD OF BEING A BUNCH OF FAT FUCKS ASKING ME WHY I DONT JOINT THE CARBON PARADE!

When I got there I finished mapping out my set in the green room and then proceeded to do an entire set of political material and impressions, about 2/3 of which I had written that day.  It went over very well.  Here is a clip:

I then mingled with people after, ate a brownie (an actual brownie, not a mini girl scout – I only respect Armie Hammer, I am not actually him) and then Pete Dominick, the comedian who organized the event, drove me to the Tarrytown Metro North at barely safe speeds allowing me to make the train back to the city by a minute.  I then walked from Grand Central back to Penn Station in time to get a 12:20am to Newark, from where I procured a Lyft to take me home. When I arrived I ate a pint of ice cream while watching SNL. I fell asleep and when I woke 5 hours later I had such a bad sore throat that I was gagging on my phlegm and thought for about 10 minutes I might die (when my life flashed before my needlessly paranoid eyes – my two thoughts were that my special really was going to come out after I was dead and that my girlfriend and dog would be upset discovering my body, primarily because of how difficult it would be to move).  For more on that fun experience – check out my podcast this week – just kidding, if you are a #fan I know you won’t!

Next road gigs?  PRINCETON, NJ the end of the month!