Blog

Hipster Pancakes, Testicle Jokes & Jared from Subway –…

Last week I toured some of the South with members of Comedians at Law.  We never officially decided on a name for our Southern tour stops, but since we were visiting clubs in Nashville and Atlanta and Vanderbilt Law School I had thought that perhaps “Southern Places with Teeth Tour” would have been a solid choice.  I was closing the show at Zanies in Nashville on Wednesday, going up first after the emcee in Atlanta on Thursday and middling at Vanderbilt Law School on Friday.

Wednesday, after the smoothest flight I have ever been on, the three of us went to see Mama.  There were four of us in the theater.  Three comedians and a random guy who came into the theater and sat 4 seats away from me.  I know this pet peeve has been beaten into the ground, but seriously, why in a theater of 500+ seats would you have to sit within the top .5% seats away from me?  The movie had a good premise, was scary for about an hour and twenty minutes and then fell apart in the last twenty.  This is also known as JJ Abrams-ing something.

The show at Zanies was solid.  The green room was stocked with lots of delicious candies, at least before I arrived.  I ate so much candy my set list got diabetes.  The crowd was medium sized, both in quantity of people and waist-line measurements.  I had a very good set and sold a couple of CDs and a couple of “LiveANGRY” wristbands.  And the night ended with me getting a bed to myself in a two bed-three comedian situation (this was the case for two of the three nights, but when traveling with two Jews who have a combined weight of less than one massive gentile, getting the bed to yourself is a perk).

It should be noted that with two Jews and a man of (some) color driving around the South I thought “Mississippi Burning” would have been a decent name for our Southern Tour, but the other guys thought it too offensive.

The next day we headed to Atlanta for our gig at The Punchline.  We stopped in Chattanooga, TN for a late (1pm) breakfast and it was delicious.  Chattanooga, TN, as we would surmise from our two trips through the town, is basically the Williamsburg, Brooklyn of the South (they hate black people ironically).  In all seriousness it seems to be a growing town with a mix of Williamsburg and a generic college town.  The only disappointing thing about the place where we stopped, the Bluegrass Grill, was that they were out of biscuits.  We felt it was our obligation to eat some biscuits in the south and were denied.  That is like walking into a NYC steakhouse and being told they are out of rich, fat white men.

The Show at the Punchline went well, as far as I could tell.  But that is because I did my set, left to laughter and then went to IHOP on an immediate solo mission.  I was starving and the other two guys had already made their IHOP hatred known, so I knew a post-show trip was unlikely. I sat down in IHOP and ordered my usual (milkshake, sausages, pancakes and an extra large casket).  The food came and I ate happily until, towards the end of my meal, the waitress asked me something that only one other human had ever asked me:

“One of the guys wants to know if you are the guy from Subway?”

Sadly they did not mean Justin Tuck or Michael Phelps.  This mystery person meant Jared.  Fu*king Jared.  One other person has ever come up with that comparison.  There are certain factors that contribute to these rare instances:

  • I have to be wearing my glasses.
  • I have to have grown out my hair – no buzz cut
  • The person who makes this observation is incredibly stupid.
  • The person who makes this observation has nothing to live for.

So for only the second time in my life all four of these factors must have been satisfied.  So after two good shows in the South (which is now my personal record for most good consecutive shows in the South) I was immediately put in check by IHOP.  It is not enough that they kill me physically with a heart disease-diabetes 1-2 punch, but now they have brought the fight to my emotional doorstep.

But Atlanta was not quite done with their punishment.  I sold a couple of wristbands after the show, no CDs, but got a piece of incredible advice from a patron:

Patron: That was a really great set.  I  mean really great.

Me: Thanks so much. Glad you Enjoyed.

Patron: But if I can suggest one thing…

Me (internally): Fu*k.

Patron: When you do the Lance Armstrong thing, say “He didn’t have the ball…” you know… because he has one testicle.

Me: Ohhh, hahaha, ok ok.

My eyes: I will fu*king end you.

He liked my set a lot, but thought I could have used a little bit more nuance with an original take on Lance Armstrong’s one testicle.  Comedy rules!!!

The next day we left back for Nashville to perform at Vanderbilt Law School.  We stopped back in Chattanooga for lunch and went to another web-recommended spot called Aretha Frankenstein’s.  We were greeted by a short Indian woman in a knit hat and thick black glasses, a red-headed waitress with a short haircut and several neck tattoos and a cashier with a beard big enough to book him two Comedy Central specials.  The food was delicious, the biscuits (we got them!) were large and tasty and the food only took 50 minutes to prepare.    They literally took up our entire time difference in the Atlanta-Nashville time zone change with their hipster pancake tardiness.

The Vanderbilt Law show was awesome.  I have destroyed in my life, but this may have been a top ten performance by me.  And it was a good thing too, because just before the show I overheard a law student say (not recognizing me from my poster on campus), “This better be funny.” Right, because you are drinking a free beer at a comedy show that you have paid zero dollars for at your law school on a Friday evening, so if anyone is entitled to be demanding of excellence it is you.  I started my set by reminding the students that I went to a higher ranked law school and I now tell jokes and wear $50 New Balance sneakers so they should not feel too hopeful.  The show was really great though and I sold some more CDs afterwards.

And then I went back to the hotel to watch Bill Maher on HBO, to find out that that the La Quinta Inn we were staying at gets only Showtime.  That is like walking into a restaurant to find out they only serve Hunt’s Ketchup.  Other than sharing one hotel room with two other men, including one with IBS, this was the low point.  But like any comedy trip, no matter how good it always ends badly.  Either you are saying goodbye to a nice club, or being called a homely sandwich spokesman or someone is trying to insert hackery into your joke or you just sit on a bed watching Fox News for laughs because Bill Maher is not available.  But we made money, we made people laugh and did not get murdered and that is what I call a successful trip through the South.

Blog

Chicago Trip – Part 2

Well after an odd start to the week, Thursday and Friday turned out to be fantastic comedy nights in Chicago.  Let’s start with Thursday night:

Thursday – Great Set, Awkward Sexual Encounters

Thursday was the first show I would give myself an A or an A+.  I felt great, consistent energy throughout the set and great crowd response.  Then the awkward after-show activities began.

As people were leaving the club I stood by the exit handing out my cards.  I try generally not to be too intrusive – sort of a mild encouragement to take one, rather than an automatic hand-off to everyone so that I guarantee at least the people who take one had some affirmative desire to get my contact info.  And sometimes comedy show attendees want to take a picture with you – perhaps it’s my borderline circus height in some cases, other times it might be because they want to remember a comedian they liked or some just want masturbation material.  Well, the only person who asked for a photo after Thursday’s show fell into this third category.  And yes, it was a dude.

During my set, a gentleman raised his hand during my set and attempted to ask a question.  It was rather bizarre since stand up comedy is not usually a Q & A, unless you are some douchey college comedian who tries to “engage the audience with post show discussion on social issues” so that you seem like more than a third-tier college grad who tells base fart and race jokes under the guise of relating to young people.  The guy seemed nice enough so I did not mock him too much for his raising his hand. (by the way I am in the process of trying to do exactly what I just criticized two sentences ago with a couple of racially ambiguous comedians – what a fu*king sell out!)

Well after the show this man, although slightly drunker at this point, came up to me and told me how great I was and asked for a picture.  Now at this point, based on his slight handshake, effeminate facial expressions and erection poking from his khakis I was able to surmise he was gay.  But since I don’t discriminate when it comes to people who like my comedy I said sure.  Well, as his partner tried to take the photo there were some malfunctions which allowed my new fan to keep his arm around me for what would be an uncomfortable amount of time had he been a large breasted women, let alone a dude.   But I had reached a point of no return.  I just had to bear a creepy hand on the small of my back for about 15 seconds or 45 minutes in creepchill factor.

The photo has not been tagged on any Facebook pages yet, but if anyone sees my face in any gay porn photos they are photoshopped.  I am not homophobic, but I am homophotophobic.   An ex of mine once said to me that she thought every straight man should have to hang out in a gay bar so they can experience what women go through with men (because every man apparently wants to alter the sexuality of a woman with an act she finds contrary to her very being? just more dumb woman logic from someone who thought herself smart).  Of course this is the same woman who defended her having had HPV by saying that “all women get it” (official stats – 25% of women contract it, which is only slightly above “all whores get it”).  Needless to say I disagree and won’t be hanging out in any gay bars unless they start buying my CDs.

After the show I went to a local bar with the headliner Jimmy Shubert.  At the bar we were greeted by some fans from the show.  Lets just summarize that part of the evening by saying women take rejection a lot worse than men.  I have a girlfriend and have no intention of coming back to NYC with anything, but a bunch of unsold CDs and 5 more pounds of fast food body weight.  A man has no problem with rejection because, like a sexual terrorist, we only need to be right once.  If a guy hits on 100 women in one night and one of those women agrees to have sexual relations the guy calls the night a huge success.  For a woman, the name of the game is national defense.  Reject everything until she decides that someone is worthy of a vaginal green card.  But if a woman tries to throw herself at a dude and he is not interested for any number of reasons, she is almost invariably a rude nightmare for the rest of the time that you are in the same room.  In this day and age of sexual equality (which is a myth – it’s just women wanting more money at work, less pressure to have kids (which is sometimes a sour grapes reaction to men getting to have more pre-martial sex than earlier generations) and still wanting the man to provide and pick up the tab like it’s still the 1950s) women need to start getting better at handling rejection.

Friday – 2 Great Shows and a Card in the Snow

Friday’s shows were awesome.  Same as Thursday, but even more people in attendance than on Thursday made these shows even more electric (please gay dude from Thursday’s show, if you are on this blog, do not read anything into me using the word electric in my description.  The Rock referred to himself as electrifying and if a buff dude running around in tights on a stage isn’t the model for heterosexuality than I don’t know what is).  Then some fun things after the second show

I have a bit about Big and Tall Stores –

Well, a “rather robust woman,” to quote Shallow Hal,  came up to me with a look that was either “I think he’s funny” or “I fu*king hate him” and said “Just to let you know I give great head to my black boyfriend.”  Only in comedy or pornography could you have done your job well and hear something like this afterwards.

Leaving the club I observed one of my cards on the ground in the snow.  Maybe that woman came back from “Chicago Trip Part 1” came back for revenge.  So no matter how well a night goes in comedy, there is almost always a chance for something to ruin it.  Last night it was seeing my picture on the snowy ground of Chicago.

3 big shows tonight at Zanies – 7, 9, 11 pm

My final Chicago write up will be Monday when I return to NYC.

Blog

Chicago Trip – Part 1

On Tuesday I departed JFK on Jet Blue for a 6 day stint in Chicago.  The trip got off to an inauspicious start when the pilot came out to address the passengers in person before the flight.  Here is basically what he said:

(grim face) Hey everyone – we’re getting set to take off soon and I need to let you know that it is going to be pretty bumpy up there, not just taking off, but basically the whole way to Chicago.  We are passing through a pretty bad storm and the weather in Chicago sucks ass and to the tall fu*k in seat 4B who decided that he would leave his parka at home and just bring a thin jacket because it looked less bulky and would be more comfortable – you are an idiot and you should listen to your mother.”

And the pilot was not lying – the flight was moderate to heavy turbulence for about 100 of the 130 minutes of the flight.  As someone who pees a fraction of an ounce every time a plane hits a bump it was a tough flight, but about halfway through I think my system just overcame my brain and said, “you cannot physically sustain this much pussy-ness for the whole two hours so just relax and read your Adam Carolla book (great read by the way – “In Fifty Years We’ll All Be Chicks”).

So I arrived in Chicago with just over 10 hours to spare so I wandered the city, looking like either a terrorist or a homeless person, but I scared no one as much as I did the parents at the 420 pm show of Tangled at the AMC Theater off of Michigan Avenue.

I am a movie buff, some might say I have a “problem,” but those people suck.  I also really enjoy animated movies.  Some might call me “immature” but those people suck.  But it dawned on me that I am not just a “sir” or a “man” or a “sexual deviant” to small children, but to the entire world now.  I may look slightly young for 31 (I can pull of 26 to some drunk girls), but I certainly don’t look 19.  And the worried looks from the parents who saw a guy the size of an NFL defensive end plop down in front of them wearing 3-D glasses to see a princess with long hair sing about how her life sucks may have been justified.  In any case, great movie and for the record – I was masturbating to the hot, evil step mom in Tangled, not to any of the theater patrons.

So after catching pneumonia during the day in Chicago it was finally time for shows.  Here’s my review of my performances and the Chicago crowds Tuesday and Wednesday nights:

TUESDAY

Packed house.  My first joke – a bit about big and tall stores started strongly, but faded quickly.  My entire set was a masterwork in getting an audience to laugh and then giving them an opportunity to show what great people they think they are as the “awwwwwww”‘d several of my jokes.  I believe a decent amount of the awwwww’s came from women under the age of 27, who anyone knows, are the worst people on Earth.   So they let me know that they did not approve of my humor every other joke.  I would give myself a B, but the crowd a C-.  But weirdly enough, after the show I was getting a lot of enthusiastic praise from most of the people there.  Weird.  Lots of people took my cards, none were found on the ground outside and one guy even tweeted that people should go see me.

Sidenote – I did not “retweet” this tweet, because I believe people who retweet compliments so their followers can see that someone complimented them are narcissistic, even for Twitter, and should be hit in the face with a shovel repeatedly.  Seriously.

WEDNESDAY

Smaller crowd, twice the laughter from Tuesday.  This crowd was the opposite of Tuesday – show was amazing and I give myself an A and the crowd an A- (a little chatter from… you guessed it – a table of chicks under 27, stopped them from getting the 4.0).  The set went well, I could not even do all the jokes I wanted because there was more laughter than anticipated.  Great feeling.  And then after the show it all went to sh*t.

Some people were complimenting me – felt good, but then three things occurred that just left me feeling weird and wishing I had gone to teach high school right after college:

  1. Several people asking me “how tall are you?” after a show.  I don’t mind the callback to my joke – it is a nice compliment that you liked or at least re-called one of my jokes.  So thank you.  But please don’t give me a look like you want me to laugh super hard at a joke I wrote and have told 500 times.
  2. A woman shook my hand and said, “You were hysterical” so I handed her one of my cards with all my on-line content links on it (they are really nice – shout out to Steve Axworthy of Worthy Concepts Inc.) and she took it, walked two steps and then walked back and said, “To be perfectly honest, I will probably just throw this on the ground outside.”   Perfectly honest would be, “Im going to throw this out so don’t waste it.”  Being perfectly cu*ty is saying you will throw it on the ground.  Even in hypothetical situations you can’t have manners or decency – you both disrespect me and litter in your imagination?
  3. Last group of people leaving the show were a group of women in their mid 40s to mid 50s.  The first 5 said, good job, really funny, etc.  Then the last one walks up to me and says nothing about the show.  She asks, “have you been tested for (name of disease I cannot remember)?”  You have long legs and long arms and are very big and it affects men, like that basketball player who died (not sure who she meant)?  You should really be tested for it.”  And then she left, without comment on the show.

So I finally ended a show with the will to live restored only to have some lady from Chicago tell me I’m going to die anyway.

Shows and adventures continue tonight at 930pm at Zanies.