Stick It To The Man
Last night was the first night of the Giggles Laugh-Off, and already there's drama. One of the performers, who is NOT a comic in the truest sense of the art, got pissed off about how things were set up.
This guy has been in the finals each year of the contest by loading the Seattle gigs. That is, he's not funny, but he invites an assload of his friends and family and business contacts to the shows to vote for him. There's always a little different vibe for a performer's friends when their friend is on-stage. Even if the guy's not funny, which this guy is NOT, the performer gets a bigger laugh and sigh from their friends who "cannot believe that's [idiot's name here] up there!" As long as the performer doesn't totally black out and tumble into the second row, taking out the "Babies With Rabies" section, the performer gets off scott-free with a high score from their comedy-illiterate friends. There's usually more unfunny in his "hact" than you can shake the stick at, so I am pretty happy he's gotten on with his life.
His absence legitimizes the contest a wee bit more, but still, it's a contest, and these things are so subjective when you're a moderately insecure comedian. Is it legit to even do a contest, as a performer, where you'd be judged by people who really don't know any better about how you do what you do? Come out to Giggles and find the answer!
(the performer in question is, from what I understand, now BACK in the Giggles Laugh-Off.)
Contests are the only way comics will ever know if they are truly funny. Laughter, respect, and gigs aren't good enough for some of us. No, you have to place well in a contest to be considered a comic.
GW Bush. FUNNY!
READ THIS ARTICLE!!!
That article, for those who have skipped ahead, recounts President Bush's verbal missteps in the almost comprehensible words of the President himself. He's like Yogi Berra without the pesky humanity. I worry that the President has come out to defend himself for things he has said "from the cuff," as it are. He is the President of the United States of America, the best country with America in the name, the 2nd best nation in the continent, and he's reticent over a few things he's blurbled. This is really not the time to backtrack on a few goofy quotes as if atoning for your inability to speak without Cheney's hand pulling the string. He's not a boring President, that's for sure. I don't think anybody is going to be sipping a Roofied "Vodka & RedStates" any time soon, lulled into a false sense of democracy.
Keep 'em coming, George. We'll be there to hear what you write.
Who's That... Girl?
As Madonna has crossed over into 46 human years, she's perhaps showing some signs of age. If you want to see them you'll have to get reeeeeally close to the "leftovers" tray at a doctor's office. The Material Shiksa appears to have been taken by surprise in this new Versace ad. Notice the blonder mane, widened eyes, and stronger jaw-line. Like a fine wine, Madonna is at her best right after she gets a little air.
I pondered the notion of cosmetic surgery the other day, eye's wide as I noticed a couple of now-prominent tributaries at the corners of my eyes. On Feb. 4th I'll be 31 years old, and I see pictures of myself from 5-6 years ago, and I think... "What happened?"
Comedy, for one. A trip to Ireland, for two. Mexico, por tres. I've undergone more free radical intake than a Cuban whorehouse.
Besides, if men really wanted to feel younger, they'd buy their girlfriends SMALLER boobs.
Co-worker update
~ You can't spell "No Makeup Sandie" with out "DIE, PUKE MAN."
~ The conversation two doors away regarding a mother's convo with her kid about what gender of baby the kid wants "mommy to have" this next time around is too loud, too long, and too lame to allow it to continue. I'm going to go close their door.
~ Closing a stranger's door at work will get you some funny, self-important looks. Working with women can really f*cking blow. In this office, at least, men gather around to talk sports in the lunchroom, or talk IT nerdball crap at their desks. 17 minutes now of divorces, kids, lawyers, C-sections, and nursing, and I don't mean the E.R. kind.
Cognitive Slowdown
A number of advocates... oh how I despise advocates... are asking the department of transportation to lower the speed limit on the Alaskan Way Viaduct from 50 to 35. This is after a motorcyclist was killed in a collision with an SUV this past Monday.
Lowering the limit will not save lives, as lives are taken not by speed but by careless driving. Whether the limit is 35 or 350, there will be a few people who aren't paying attention to their surrounds, lost in their own stratocruisers (I think that's Lincoln's next SUV). It provides law enforcement with more opportunities to nail speeders at 51 who are just trying to get to featherplucking work after being held up by a fatality accident all morning.
* Some people are distracted by phones or DVD players in their cars. This is going to cause a lot of accidents until we all get DVD players and learn to drive the way we will in the future: Unattentive and hungover from all the parties to repopulate earth.
* Outlaw motorcycles, unless they are in a cage going around and around to the death. Make the death fiery! Make the cage small enough to fit on top of an SUV.
I'm outta here. Have a good Friday.
Take Me Home My Non-Funny Blog.
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