Friday, November 21, 2003  

Sweet Merciful Fuck

Let me say this one time, out loud, for everyone to hear. I want this read into the record, signed, sealed, and notarized: fuck Plum Island, and fuck people from Plum Island.

Last night's show at the Wine Cellar was full-on combat comedy at its most tiresome. Our hecker-cum-comedienne was there, and she brought all her friends, who, as it turns out, were exactly the same people from Plum Island who made my life so miserable last time I saw them. They were annhiliated on cheap booze before the show even started, and by the time I got up, their heckling had been reduced to mooing like cows, raspberries, and drunken outbursts like, "You know why I had to do the thing I say FIVE!" To top it off, they took up the entire center of the room like a black hole of alcoholic heinousness. Dealing with them wasn't so much comedy as it was riot control...I was the verbal equivalent of a character in a James Ellroy book, breaking in teeth and smashing kneecaps. And all I wanted to do was do a regular comedy show!

To top it off, the owner paid me IN CASH ON THE STREET IN FRONT OF THE BAR! Great...now I can suffer through a miserable comedy show AND get jack rolled.

TIP FOR NEW COMICS: Do not, under any circumstances, confuse doing your dumbass jokes to your dumbass friends for actually being a comedian.

Fucking Plum Island, man.

Show Tonight: Wine Cellar in Beverley, MA

Hey, all...

I'll be headlining the show at the Wine Cellar in Beverley, Mass tonight, along with Todd Andrews, Rob Steen, and the aforementioned heckler-turned-comic, whose last name I forget, so I'm sticking her with her title instead. Mea culpa. Showtime's 9:00, and I plan to swing for the fences as I need to sell some CD's because due to a combination of ATM fraud (some cocksmear has cloned my wife's ATM card and cleaned out our checking account) and inane bank policies (our replacement bank doesn't let you touch your dough for 10 days after opening a new account) we are having what I think a corporate type would call "liquidity issues," and we need some cash money stat.

Dentyne FIRE, My Ass

How am I supposed to stay on the straight and narrow, tobacco-wise, if NOBODY makes a decent cinnamon gum? Orbit Cinnamon tastes like the inside of a Hot Tamales box, and Dentyne Fire is an insult to cinnamon everywhere. Extra's flavor lasts an extra long time, but that's not a positive, in this case. Anyone have any hot tips? Get it? HOT tips for CINNAMON gum?

Wakka wakka wakka!

Heckler Haunting

How weird is this? One of the worst hecklers I ever had in my nearly 11 years in comedy (pause while my stomach churns at THAT figure) has gotten into comedy and was one of my opening acts at Chops Lounge on Saturday night.

[cue wavy lines for flashback sequence]

I first met her in the town function hall in Plum Island, Massachusetts, where Dave Rattigan booked a BYOB show, and man, did these people B a lotta B's. Dave did well, as I recall, then Tony Moschetto went up and killed so unbelievably hard that when he was done, people put on their jackets to leave because they felt the show must be over. It's always great to be brought up to, "No, wait, there's another guy! No, he's good! Stick around!"

So needless to say, I went up and began chomping it hard. HARD. The table up front was building a pyramind between me and them out of empty Bud cans (equals classy!), and trust me when I say there were so many empties, they coulda interred Ramses in the fucker. Needless to say, I commented on it, whereupon the drunkest of the bunch lit into me. She was blonde and hammered, and was so brutal, that I eschwed clever banter and went for plain meanness. I still feel bad about what I said to her...and no, I won't write it because SHE IS NOW A COMIC AND SAYS SHE LOVES READING MY BLOG. Who knew I'd ever see her again?

Goddamn, this is a strange world.