The Blog About Why I Was Up All Night

Last night's comedy pursuit quantum-leapt me to Marysville. This city is weird. It's got all the small town feel of Hoquiam, sans history. Do they sell drugs in Marysville? Can't say, didn't buy any there. Do the MAKE drugs in Marysville? Can't say, didn't swap recipes with the locals. What CAN I say? How about this:
When in Marysville, you can drive to a local convenience store and buy a scale. Saw it on the way out of town. Yeah. Not a bathroom scale. Not a produce scale. A druggin' scale. And yet, like so many of their mysteriously "late" girlfriends, nobody in Marysville acknowledges the issue.
Shawn Cain MC'ed the evening, dressed like a Shaolin Monk. I had to snatch the mic from his hand to do my set. Bob Lindsey did 3 minutes that did really well. Bob's biggest snafu is not knowing how to get off stage. Not that he's a stage hog, but he truly says "Okay, I guess I'm done, so I should go now and yeah, okay, thanks for laughing, okay... Shawn?" To that effect. I hope Bob keeps it as his calling card. It's actually pretty funny. I feel bad for saying "How about Bob, huh? I used to buy crank from him" when I got on stage, because that's NOT FUNNY. Bob, white pants? You're not supposed to wear white pants after Labor Day of the year 1926.

I had a good set at JR's Steakhouse. As good as it's gonna get there, from what I was told. I realized that when I am performing in a room that serves as a pool hall, dance floor, and vomitorium it's best to stick to the joke material, and not the story-line jokes. At least for me. The crowd that listened was with me. The ones who talked were, at first-through-15th glances, the kind of dudes who "ain't gonna listen to nobody no how, got it, FAGG*T???" I closed on 8 minutes of religion and politics, getting 3 applause breaks during one new bit on Advertising and Christianity. That's one I will have to deliver with a wrinkly brow and winky eye. People tighten up around the Lord.

James Inman headlined and did a great job, resurrecting his Wal-Mart bit that I friggin' love. It's one of the first I've ever heard him do. Yeah, uh huh, you don't hear THAT at Wal-Mart DO YA? NO! Nice work James, for the 20 minutes I saw of it. Then I had to go and comparison-shop the scales. I got some product to move.

Of course, it would have been GREAT to get home and fall asleep. Aaah, yes, that would be the way it's supposed to work out, no? Get home and be lights-out at 12-ish. SUPER. Couldn't happen though. Nope. Started getting really tired about 12-ish, get in bed to read... upstairs neighbor's TV is on. But I figure it'll go off in a bit. 1:30am, I'm knocking on the hog's door to get her to turn it down. Nothing. No answer. Lights on and all that. 2am, back up there, knocking. 2:30, knocking. Leave a note to let her know
A) She's ugly
B) Her TV is too f*cking loud. I even wrote down what show she was watching, and two lines from it. Does "Matlock" EVER go off the air?
5 minutes after my last trip upstairs, I hear her galumphing over to the front door. She likely got the note. The TV was off 5 minutes later. Silence at nearly 3am. Either she was stone-walling me or she's half-deaf. I once fell asleep listening to Metallica's "And Justice For All" on 8 in my headphones, so my hearing isn't THAT sensitive. Then again, I'm getting older and would prefer to not "nap" when my body demands 5 - 5.63 hours of sleep each night.

Some woodsy, tie-dyed sandal jockey is wearing toe-bells at work today. This also the same woman who raises llamas. Llama pictures at her desk. Llama sweaters, shirts, kerchiefs. To each their own, of course. But wow, it's unhealthy. It's not a hobby, it's an obsession. TINA, COME GET YOUR MEDS!
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"Can you turn off 'DAT FAN' ovah dayuh?"

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