February 16, 2011

Fixing Business with Pleasure

I’m a comedian, I tell jokes, I make money for it, sometimes. There is a certain level of professionalism, yet I still I can perform my job while drinking, and I get to talk about penises and minorities. I am single, I’m not lonely, but I am in my thirties, which in my hometown would have me between my third and fourth wife by now.

It takes a special person to love a comedian. We travel alot, and when around we are sarcastic, jaded a-holes looking at life as material. It takes a special person to love a comedian.

Some comedians/ comics go the simple route, they date within the clan. It makes sense, they are around. They likely “get” you, and you have similarities.

One problem, when you break up and likely date another comic, you start to get a reputation, I’m not saying it’s valid, but you get one. So, yeah you kind of have to own it.

Quick story.
I worked at a gas station chain back home; loved it. There were like 60 stores in the city, we worked hard, worked jackball hours, and partied a lot. Often fellow employees would wind up hooking up. It was no big thing. However, once you hooked up with a with a second employee, the guys and gals were both looked as sluts. (However in Oklahoma, you can be considered promiscuous, for having killer dance moves , and yes I do have them)

Being looked down by your coworkers can truly fuck you up, and put in you in a socially awkward state and possibly affect your job performance.

The only advantage to being a skanky convenience store employee over a skanky comedian? We had health insurance at the gas station.

February 8, 2011

You can find me in da club...

Comics that talk shit about porn stars, Jersey Shore and Ke$ha but are afraid to talk about Industry are more pussy than doing black and Mexican jokes in Beverly Hills. I have always thought staying with safe topics is as appealing as having sex while wearing a T-Shirt. I’mma talk about comedy clubs.

Comedy clubs are in business to make money; which is sort of expected. What really is sad for comedy is some clubs get so focused on short term profits; they forget that it’s a million times easier to get a person to come back, than come out once.

If you are friends with a comic, and they are relatively new, they will invariably invite you to a shitty show. I did it, and yes I apologize. These are shows that no one wants to see and are usually in real screwball time slots. These are Bringer shows. They are godawful and the only reason anyone goes is because they are somehow friends (at least until this night) of one of the comics.

Ever been to a comedy show and only one section of the crowd is laughing their balls off, to a mild chuckleworthy joke? Yup, that was a bringer.

Bringer shows are full of cute names like “emerging”, “developing” “bursting” comics that could just all be easily called na├»ve. They don’t realize they are doing the producer and promoters job for them all in the name of premature stage time.

To their credit, it is HARD to produce a successful show in Los Angeles. I have done it with a moderate amount of success.

There are a handful of comedians in Los Angeles I have seen that know how to get an audience, and most importantly, get an audience to return. I tip my cap to the comics that book their own shows full of hot comics : Mark Fry, Sam Tripoli, Jonny Loquasto, Justine Marino, Jimmy Talerico, Chris Millhouse, Rudy Moreno, Amir Kamyab, DJ Cooch to name a few. You know something else? They are all funnier comics, because they surround themselves with the best comics they can find.

If you look at consistently hot shows, Tiger Lily, 12 Shiny Nickels, Comedy Juice, Punk House, Refried Fridays, Mo Better Mondays, Comedy Revival, Comedy Meltdown, Chocolate Sundays, Comedy is Dead, etc, you see the top shows have all two key elements, repeat patrons, and top comics

What these faggot producers don’t realize is it fucks the game up, by ear-raping a casual audience.

For example, you and I both open a restaurant on the same street; I do regular stuff, you sell your pasta for a nickel a noodle and have people lined up around the block. It’s great until you realize people find out your cooks don’t wash their hands after squeezing one off and your meat came from Sub-Saharan Africa. Botulism spreads, people leave, don’t return and no one wants any Italian food.

And now I’m going broke because you chose to be a faggot. Gay people shouldn’t be upset when I say faggot; faggots should be though.