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Geoff Lott: Comedian, Writer, Philosoteur. I am here to amuse you, not entertain you. If not now, later. If not you, somebody else. If you can't laugh at yourself, that's just fine, too. I will do it for you.
Showing posts with label Last Comic Standing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Last Comic Standing. Show all posts
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Saturday, November 08, 2008
Blog 600! Gotta Do What Ya Gotta Do
There was a time when I thought to myself, "there's no way he's going to make it to the next rooftop." He did, by the way. I still can't believe he did, but squirrels are very athletic, with high degrees of Athleticism, which is a word a sportscaster made up to sound as though he had a high level of intelligism.
Life, as I've learned, is not a lineal path from Point A (your mother's "baby garden") to Point B (3rd Grade) to Point C (Cryogenic Head Reanimation). Oh no, it's not. It's lot of twists and turns. Like a river, filled with some rocks, some rolls, some backfat, some babyPhat, and some bodies. And I'm the water. In MY life, I mean, I'm the water, you are your own water.
Whatever it is you're planning on doing, stop planning and start doing. PLanning is NOT work, mmkay? It's been documented frequently - and perhaps to my detriment - on how many issues I had in corporative Americanus. Meetings, for one, were rarely places that work got done. They usually set up other meetings because some dipshit who called the meeting "Necessary" didn't make it. Likely in another meeting about their love of eating crapwiches and mustard shakes.
I now embrace my personality and creativity. For a looooooooong time - longer for my teachers - I was told to sit on those things, take them outside, or disallow their development. Well, NOW, I get to use them as a way to make money. A lot of money, I hope. Money's just a tool to build other things with, don't frown upon my desire to prosper and develop a robot to crush the dreams of my foes. Both of them.
So whatever it is that feeds your Zen belly, get the heaping handfuls you want and cram them inna yo face. I, at times, have to remind myself that "this is water," for you D.F. Wallace fans, and that I'm where I'm s'posed to be at this point in life. No, the money's not rolling in right now. There aren't agents knocking at my door. I don't have a big deal to sign tomorrow morning. These aren't things to discourage me, however. These are MOTIVATORS. And if I do what I'm supposed to do, which is different for everyone, then it will happen. And if it doesn't, so help me Bob Bledsoe, I will call a meeting.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Life, as I've learned, is not a lineal path from Point A (your mother's "baby garden") to Point B (3rd Grade) to Point C (Cryogenic Head Reanimation). Oh no, it's not. It's lot of twists and turns. Like a river, filled with some rocks, some rolls, some backfat, some babyPhat, and some bodies. And I'm the water. In MY life, I mean, I'm the water, you are your own water.
Whatever it is you're planning on doing, stop planning and start doing. PLanning is NOT work, mmkay? It's been documented frequently - and perhaps to my detriment - on how many issues I had in corporative Americanus. Meetings, for one, were rarely places that work got done. They usually set up other meetings because some dipshit who called the meeting "Necessary" didn't make it. Likely in another meeting about their love of eating crapwiches and mustard shakes.
I now embrace my personality and creativity. For a looooooooong time - longer for my teachers - I was told to sit on those things, take them outside, or disallow their development. Well, NOW, I get to use them as a way to make money. A lot of money, I hope. Money's just a tool to build other things with, don't frown upon my desire to prosper and develop a robot to crush the dreams of my foes. Both of them.
So whatever it is that feeds your Zen belly, get the heaping handfuls you want and cram them inna yo face. I, at times, have to remind myself that "this is water," for you D.F. Wallace fans, and that I'm where I'm s'posed to be at this point in life. No, the money's not rolling in right now. There aren't agents knocking at my door. I don't have a big deal to sign tomorrow morning. These aren't things to discourage me, however. These are MOTIVATORS. And if I do what I'm supposed to do, which is different for everyone, then it will happen. And if it doesn't, so help me Bob Bledsoe, I will call a meeting.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Feels Like I'm Losing It Sometimes
Lately, without a dayjob and getting every other thing in order in life...
such as registering a car in a new state, getting smog-checked, taking a driver's test, handling insurance, handling renter's insurance, calling after jobs, handling investments, etc...
I have to spend a lot of time on the phone. Supposedly that is to make life more convenient. But I have a network or a phone or a connection or a bunch of people on the other end that are seriously malfunctioning. And that lack of ability to communicate with one's mouth and brain in full connection is incredibly widespread, and causing me to understand how our economy could very well be undermined by people who finance their clothing.
When I think of having to call an institution about an account change or anything that will cause me to change anything at all... which means i have to talk to a person!!!!!!!... I cringe. I don't want to hunch up, but I do. It's a gut reaction, as my gut churns while I think of the menu I have to negotiate (these will soon be a thing of the past, BTW, if we really want to stimulate the economy), leading me to a complete stranger. So every call is another communication style to learn and adapt to. And if the person on the other end of the phone is pissed off or underpaid or self-righteous, I'm in for an overly long call. Just read my previous entry on Lingo.com. That company can suck it with their eyes open.
I am who I am, a good guy who is doing the best he can to get in and get moving in his career, meet people, and be the kind of guy I would want to hang out with. There's no horn-tooting there, I have had to TRY very hard to make that happen every friggin' time I leave the house. It gets easier and easier each time because I have a clean slate of interaction where ever I go now. Nobody knows me. So I can joke around and chat it up and be as cordial as I want to be. Maybe I'm the only person in that person's day who didn't tell them they should go back to furrier school. I am who I am. And if you hung out with me for a while and had some beer, I think you, too, would like me. If you replenished the beer, that, too, would be nice of you, but no pressure.
LA is bigger than Seattle. It sprawls. It's got more of everybody, every color, every background. So by sheer numbers of people, there are more people doing dumb things and rude things and dipshit things, and those always stand out. Example... Stopping at a red light doesn't make nearly the impact as running a red light and T-boning a car ALSO running that red and making a left in front of the hitter. It's rampant here. I don't even chance that water. And these people aren't ever going anywhere. If it were that important, they'd have left their shit-tents much earlier.
So today, I'll chalk it up to heat and frustration and get it out of my system. Writing and a good hard workout later. I am going to a church service tonight, also, overdue for us. I knew it was bad a few weeks ago when we attended a church service and all I could think was "this pastor can't preach for shit. This guy's awful. I've heard more passion in a Little League dugout." Then his pushy wife went up and had the full-pew press about getting people to attend, you BETTER attend, DON'T THINK ABOUT NOT ATTENDING, YOU SINNERS, for some Halloween thing she wanted to do. And I sat there and judged them like they were dancing their way across the floor for my amusement. So I need something bigger than Me right now to focus on.
Today I walked by 17 people. I counted them, because I wanted to do an experiment on how people react to strangers on the street. Of the 17, 14 were wearing sunglasses. Of those 17, 2 were on bikes. Of the 17, 4 of them and I traded "Hello"s or "good morning"s. All 4 of them were white. The other 13 were all non-white. No eye contact, no recognition. Just a fact, that's how it went for me this morning. But, hey, I'm not shutting off or down. Next time, however, maybe I shouldn't dress as a cop.
On the bright side, it's nearly 80 degrees already, no clouds in the sky. I got calls to make.
Hello, Xanax?
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
such as registering a car in a new state, getting smog-checked, taking a driver's test, handling insurance, handling renter's insurance, calling after jobs, handling investments, etc...
I have to spend a lot of time on the phone. Supposedly that is to make life more convenient. But I have a network or a phone or a connection or a bunch of people on the other end that are seriously malfunctioning. And that lack of ability to communicate with one's mouth and brain in full connection is incredibly widespread, and causing me to understand how our economy could very well be undermined by people who finance their clothing.
When I think of having to call an institution about an account change or anything that will cause me to change anything at all... which means i have to talk to a person!!!!!!!... I cringe. I don't want to hunch up, but I do. It's a gut reaction, as my gut churns while I think of the menu I have to negotiate (these will soon be a thing of the past, BTW, if we really want to stimulate the economy), leading me to a complete stranger. So every call is another communication style to learn and adapt to. And if the person on the other end of the phone is pissed off or underpaid or self-righteous, I'm in for an overly long call. Just read my previous entry on Lingo.com. That company can suck it with their eyes open.
I am who I am, a good guy who is doing the best he can to get in and get moving in his career, meet people, and be the kind of guy I would want to hang out with. There's no horn-tooting there, I have had to TRY very hard to make that happen every friggin' time I leave the house. It gets easier and easier each time because I have a clean slate of interaction where ever I go now. Nobody knows me. So I can joke around and chat it up and be as cordial as I want to be. Maybe I'm the only person in that person's day who didn't tell them they should go back to furrier school. I am who I am. And if you hung out with me for a while and had some beer, I think you, too, would like me. If you replenished the beer, that, too, would be nice of you, but no pressure.
LA is bigger than Seattle. It sprawls. It's got more of everybody, every color, every background. So by sheer numbers of people, there are more people doing dumb things and rude things and dipshit things, and those always stand out. Example... Stopping at a red light doesn't make nearly the impact as running a red light and T-boning a car ALSO running that red and making a left in front of the hitter. It's rampant here. I don't even chance that water. And these people aren't ever going anywhere. If it were that important, they'd have left their shit-tents much earlier.
So today, I'll chalk it up to heat and frustration and get it out of my system. Writing and a good hard workout later. I am going to a church service tonight, also, overdue for us. I knew it was bad a few weeks ago when we attended a church service and all I could think was "this pastor can't preach for shit. This guy's awful. I've heard more passion in a Little League dugout." Then his pushy wife went up and had the full-pew press about getting people to attend, you BETTER attend, DON'T THINK ABOUT NOT ATTENDING, YOU SINNERS, for some Halloween thing she wanted to do. And I sat there and judged them like they were dancing their way across the floor for my amusement. So I need something bigger than Me right now to focus on.
Today I walked by 17 people. I counted them, because I wanted to do an experiment on how people react to strangers on the street. Of the 17, 14 were wearing sunglasses. Of those 17, 2 were on bikes. Of the 17, 4 of them and I traded "Hello"s or "good morning"s. All 4 of them were white. The other 13 were all non-white. No eye contact, no recognition. Just a fact, that's how it went for me this morning. But, hey, I'm not shutting off or down. Next time, however, maybe I shouldn't dress as a cop.
On the bright side, it's nearly 80 degrees already, no clouds in the sky. I got calls to make.
Hello, Xanax?
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Taking A Break From the WebFilth, Are We?
The internet, or as George W. Bush once called it, "Library TV," (unconfirmed) is nothing if not full of pointless ramblings. Like this blog, now nearing 600 posts. I have totaled, between this one and my MySpace blog, nearly 1,000 posts. I have no idea if anybody actually reads these on a regular basis. But if you do, I cannot thank you enough, nor legally within the laws governing the sovereign state of Cambodia. I love writing, being creative, and expressing my views on lighthearted issues, like heroin use and terrorism, and the hard-hitting topics like what food is truly unacceptable to offer publicly at work.
Goldfish Crackers? Somebody once put the little Pepp'ridge Fa'm happy fish snacks... INTO A COFFEE FILTER-AS-BOWL... onto the counter in the kitchen at work. As though it was a viable snack option.
"Hey," th'idiot thought, "I like these crackers! I am a good person! I will share my crackers I like with work people I like!"
REALLY? Then why leave them anonymously?
Is this a day-care or a place I go to between "fun" and "sleep?" Next time, just blow gas in my cubicle and leave the culinary insults in your desk drawers. Get the trots on your birthday, jackload. Those are a third-tier salad topper AT BEST. Eat a fart.
Is this a day-care or a place I go to between "fun" and "sleep?" Next time, just blow gas in my cubicle and leave the culinary insults in your desk drawers. Get the trots on your birthday, jackload. Those are a third-tier salad topper AT BEST. Eat a fart.
So, the internet gave each of us with a computer and an internet connection, or access to our friend's resources so that we couldn't be tracked by the Gub'mint! when reading Chow Mein Kampf: Cooking For Facists, the ability to connect with data we never knew existed. Information. News. Sports records. Urban legands. Keith Urban. John Legend. Keith Stubbs. Celine Dion's clothing designer, who may be blind. And pictures that, as a society, we have absolutely no need to see, no use for, nor should be judged for looking at.
But there's now a visibility into human lives which was not likely anticipated by people willing to open their lives up. In other words, people are putting their lives on display, and it's as fascinating as it is frightening. I am both embarrassed and empowered by what I see.
The truth is that we love the gossip, the dirt, the dredged-up hintings and naughty bits of a person's life, words thrown into the webosphere for our consumption...
AS LONG AS THE DREDGINGS AREN'T FROM OUR EMOTIONAL SINKHOLES. As long as we aren't the subject of the dirty whispers, we're usually okay with the whispers existing. Truly, they've always existed. But this netosphere gives people a key element that previous generations lacked: The assumption that people give 2 hard pushes about what they have to whisper about.
I include myself in that realm. I write to entertain myself as much as I think there are people actually WAITING to read this, like they have NOTHING to do all day long except pine for my brain droppings here. I do thank you, Dear Reader, for ever and forever, for staying with me this long. I will write this forever just so that people will continue reading (P.Diddy's fans now just go with the Video Blog), and so that anybody who can't read will stop trying to be my friend.
The web gives us a place to air our grievances, among other things in need of airing. I have been in a number of on-line squabbles, and found them as exhilirating as they are dumb, if not totally pointless. The internet is the ultimate in Passive Activity, if there is such a thing. Doing "something" from a chair, or a Kentucky Gropin' Hammock if that's your thing.
But one's heart races when all of this visual and aural stimuli rushes into our sensors, and perhaps it feels like we're doing somethin'.
The internet can be used to do things, like order items, pay for ordered items, and then report the ordered items as "missing" when she shows up and runs away from you because AGAIN, you must stop ordering brides on-line.
Or STALKING! You can find somebody to be obsessed with for whatever reason, and spiral completely out of control. And you'll swear up and down that they just aren't getting the real YOU, and they need to meet you in order to find out that you are NOT stalking them...
you're just hacking their email and phone records to make sure that nobody is, indeed, stalking them. Cyberstalking is still stalking. Sorry.
Online gaming is another way to use the internet while pretending you've got a life.
Overall, this is a necessary and wonderful tool that has been sullied by perverts, pre-verts, awful bands, unsightly "models", and the government. Please do not think that the internet is an evil machine. It is a reflection of the makeup of humanity.
And all that has been going on within the Webosphere, the degradation, the love-sharing, the snakeoils, the snake handling, the purchase of kidney-extraction forceps, has forever been happening. Recipe trading, cake making, and people sneaking in to love-make to the cake (You Google that on your own!). It's all been happening prior to the internet.
But thankfully, with technology in our lives, all the good people have a place to watch the pervs from a safe distance. But we are NOT stalking them! Really, who has the time?
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Blinded by the Right
The other day at work I heard an idiot talking about how we ought to stop complaining about high gas prices. Echoing what many hacky comics have said in between bong rips (I'm not down on bong rips, just hacky comics), th'Idiot piped up with...
"Well, I mean, GAWSH, it seems like gas prices are probably so high because, I don't know, um... maybe it's all the way deep under ground and you have to dig for it? And then, um, like, you have to make it into GAS?"
First off, it took them a LONG time to say that. Brevity is the soul of wit, and can be a violent wolverine-like animal when stretched over an imbecile's rack of torture known as their "attempt at humor and/or social commentary."
Secondarily, but most importantly, is that this approach to the issue of gas prices either denies or is ignorant to the fact that oil companies, in the past year, have posted ANOTHER year of record-breaking profits. Revenue topped $377,000,000,000 (BILLion) at Exxon in 2006. Profit was around $36BILLION. All this in the face of Hybrid cars, solar energy, global warming, a deteriorating economy, ugly people, and the end of "Arrested Development."
So, if somebody says "Hey, gas is expensive because a lot of dinosaurs had to die for it," remember that many dinosaurs (including that Dick Cheney, George W. Bush, and Steve in accounting who never brings donuts in) are still living in the glow of gasoline. All while making a gigantic, steamy, ozone-eating profit.
I gotta get oil stock.
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"Well, I mean, GAWSH, it seems like gas prices are probably so high because, I don't know, um... maybe it's all the way deep under ground and you have to dig for it? And then, um, like, you have to make it into GAS?"
First off, it took them a LONG time to say that. Brevity is the soul of wit, and can be a violent wolverine-like animal when stretched over an imbecile's rack of torture known as their "attempt at humor and/or social commentary."
Secondarily, but most importantly, is that this approach to the issue of gas prices either denies or is ignorant to the fact that oil companies, in the past year, have posted ANOTHER year of record-breaking profits. Revenue topped $377,000,000,000 (BILLion) at Exxon in 2006. Profit was around $36BILLION. All this in the face of Hybrid cars, solar energy, global warming, a deteriorating economy, ugly people, and the end of "Arrested Development."
So, if somebody says "Hey, gas is expensive because a lot of dinosaurs had to die for it," remember that many dinosaurs (including that Dick Cheney, George W. Bush, and Steve in accounting who never brings donuts in) are still living in the glow of gasoline. All while making a gigantic, steamy, ozone-eating profit.I gotta get oil stock.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Monday, June 09, 2008
Comedy For Reals
This past weekend I performed 4 times at Laughs Comedy Spot in Kirkland. Every show was good, if not great. Grrrooood. Twice we had some chatsters off to stage left, including one group who, when admonished, responded with "Is that us?"
Yes.
The voices you hear coming out of the mouths of your friends whose mouths are moving 2 feet from you is ALL Y'ALL.
Working with Phil Palisoul, I learned a lot this weekend. This guy gets going and never lets up the entire hour. Joke after joke after laugh after laugh. That's hard to do as a comedian, and he was FRIGGIN' AWESOME. "Chicken Potpie..." A little reminder for those who made it.
I know, beyond a five o'clock shadow of a doubt, that Making People Laugh is my Purpose. However I can, where and when I can, it's what I Do. This is how I do.
It's how I do it, when I do it, when I'm up in tha club.
Day job. Commute. Etc. E. t.... c... I actually do really like my day job, for one I must have, but it's surely not The Goal.
A booker recently, upon my turning down a gig in Soap Lake, WA, remarked that "it's hard to take (me) seriously as a comedian," since I wouldn't schlep out to Nowhere for $200 and a motel room for 2 nights. Soap Lake, WA, I retorted, is not a serious gig. I aim higher. Gas at $4 a gallon (remember when?) 220-mile round trip, day off of work, eating on the road, I would actually be losing $38 on the show is what it came to. The gig, came to find out, was canceled. Not enough tickets sold.
It's hard to take seriously anybody willing to sell out talent for an extra little cheddar.
That being said, some great things are in the works right now, moving forward with a serious momentum shove by myself, Lovely Wife, great Friends, Faith, and Fate. I can't make it on my own, but I'll show up and kick ass when I get the shot. Everything else is small potatoes. I want the sustained, throbbing Big Time, folks.
Ready.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Last Comic Standing, Season 6, Recap 1
Well then...
I sat through all 90 minutes of LCS6e1 last night. Here's my recap...
A lot of the funniest, best comics you've never seen did NOT make it on TV nor into the next Round for the Las Vegas show.
A few guys made me laugh a little.
Esther Ku did not. The audience - the camera shots of the crowds were very telling about a comic's rapport - sat rapt with indifference. She's not only hacking every Asian comedian, she's one "I date losers" joke away from hacking every female comedian, also. But I'm sure she's super nice!
Marcus, you silly, sweethearted son of a goat... I'm happy for the guy. I don't even wish I could dislike the guy, but hey, crowds like, if not LOVE, him and the way he presents his material. He gorilla-stomped the Seattle Comedy Competition last year. I genuinely wish Marcus a great run in this thing. Don't F up.
Phil Palisoul, this guy made me laugh. Clever, goofy, smart. I think I work with him next month, too. Regardless, it's good to see some frustration on stage, instead of the smiles and the "gee-whiz" crap up until then. Phil's got a new fan in the Geoffer.
Anybody watching the show, please go see a live comedy show at your nearest club. Get perspective. Understand that stand-up comedy is one of the last places for spoken word entertainment that isn't about verbal masturbation and is about entertaining the audience, primarily. If, from that, the comedian feels good about what they perform on stage...
See... as I begin to write stuff like that, I feel less like a comic and more like I have to defend the art. I have jokes about weiners in my act. Art. Right.
Funny is subjective. A sense of humor is like a sense of smell; some folks have a more attuned sense, but we all know when somebody tracked in doodle. Don't accept the crap, folks.
I'll talk more sauce as the season goes on, if I can stand to watch it.
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I sat through all 90 minutes of LCS6e1 last night. Here's my recap...
A lot of the funniest, best comics you've never seen did NOT make it on TV nor into the next Round for the Las Vegas show.
A few guys made me laugh a little.
Esther Ku did not. The audience - the camera shots of the crowds were very telling about a comic's rapport - sat rapt with indifference. She's not only hacking every Asian comedian, she's one "I date losers" joke away from hacking every female comedian, also. But I'm sure she's super nice!
Marcus, you silly, sweethearted son of a goat... I'm happy for the guy. I don't even wish I could dislike the guy, but hey, crowds like, if not LOVE, him and the way he presents his material. He gorilla-stomped the Seattle Comedy Competition last year. I genuinely wish Marcus a great run in this thing. Don't F up.
Phil Palisoul, this guy made me laugh. Clever, goofy, smart. I think I work with him next month, too. Regardless, it's good to see some frustration on stage, instead of the smiles and the "gee-whiz" crap up until then. Phil's got a new fan in the Geoffer.
Anybody watching the show, please go see a live comedy show at your nearest club. Get perspective. Understand that stand-up comedy is one of the last places for spoken word entertainment that isn't about verbal masturbation and is about entertaining the audience, primarily. If, from that, the comedian feels good about what they perform on stage...
See... as I begin to write stuff like that, I feel less like a comic and more like I have to defend the art. I have jokes about weiners in my act. Art. Right.
Funny is subjective. A sense of humor is like a sense of smell; some folks have a more attuned sense, but we all know when somebody tracked in doodle. Don't accept the crap, folks.
I'll talk more sauce as the season goes on, if I can stand to watch it.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Last Fool Standing
Perhaps it's the tang of sour grapes, or the wet-end of reality's towel-snap to the bared buttocks of my hopes...
But Last Comic Standing can suck it with their eyes open. And I better get a finger.
I, along with a number of other Seattle-based comics, hit San Francisco, CA on Friday morning with an invitation-audition spot for the show. After reading updates from around the nation, it is apparent that the producers of the show - all of whom are possibly brain dead - are looking for a particular type of person to put on the show:
1) Young.
2) On the 7.5+ side of Attractive.
3) A lot of time to update their MySpace pages.
From what I can tell, this is shaping up to be something akin to "Road Rules vs. Real World + Who's Line Is It Anyway?" There's an entirely tangential discussion about whether or not REALLY attractive people can be, or are, truly Funny. But then it goes back to the argument that "Funny is subjective," and you have to make YOUR point about Comic X and I tell you why they are NOT funny, and then you tell me to F off and you stomp away in your DUMB-looking boots and your butt looks big and there's a cloud following you that smells like bad eggs and gasoline because you fart-smell all the time even when you don't fart because YOU SUCK for liking dumb comics.
For a recap of the San Fran audition, and a list of who made it through to the LA/SemiFinal show, check out THIS LINK RIGHT HERE.
The odd thing is that I feel like I was fooled this time. Like I had a shot at it. Nope. And not to diminish others who DID make it to the next round, but damn, when a guy as funny as Dwight Slade cannot get any love, then you KNOW the show isn't about Comedy. It's about trying to find sexy people who can be "funny enough" to be on a show where stand-up comedy is part of the equation. Dwight Slade, btw, is inarguably FUNNY. You cannot deny that. Try it.
So NO, I won't try out again.
I'll make my fame the old-fashioned way: COATTAIL RIDING. I will get some famous comic everyone else loves to love MY comedy, and I'll open for that guy for 5 months on the road, and get rich that way. Famous, too, but rich, mostly.
Every year, people tell me they watched LCS and then say "Yeah, the guy who won? He isn't funny. I didn't laugh once when he was on stage."
Well, my goal this year was to be UNFUNNY enough to win. I failed. Sorry, I guess I'm just too funny to win.
So if you decide to spend some time this Summer watching LCS on NBC, remember, it's not a show about stand-up comedy. It's not cast with the best-available comics, so how could it be? In the meantime, I'll be writing more and better jokes, writing more scripts, and getting emotionally ready for the grind of... well... that's for another time.
Rest-assured, my comedy will be on TV within a year. Tune in to COPS around next Valentine's Day.
One last thing...
TWO people from Seattle made the LA SemiFinal show, Jeff Dye, and Andy Haynes. I really like each of these guys and wish them only the best of luck. I did 2 weeks of comedy with Andy Haynes during the competition, and was impressed nightly with how far he's come as a comic. Jeff Dye has made HUGE strides in comedy since he started, and gets better all the time. They're both funny, they're both good looking, and they are both going to do very well, I hope. If Andy gets that mean mug off his face. Guy always looks like he just lost a bet to a blind man and has to eat what's in the bag.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
But Last Comic Standing can suck it with their eyes open. And I better get a finger.
I, along with a number of other Seattle-based comics, hit San Francisco, CA on Friday morning with an invitation-audition spot for the show. After reading updates from around the nation, it is apparent that the producers of the show - all of whom are possibly brain dead - are looking for a particular type of person to put on the show:
1) Young.
2) On the 7.5+ side of Attractive.
3) A lot of time to update their MySpace pages.
From what I can tell, this is shaping up to be something akin to "Road Rules vs. Real World + Who's Line Is It Anyway?" There's an entirely tangential discussion about whether or not REALLY attractive people can be, or are, truly Funny. But then it goes back to the argument that "Funny is subjective," and you have to make YOUR point about Comic X and I tell you why they are NOT funny, and then you tell me to F off and you stomp away in your DUMB-looking boots and your butt looks big and there's a cloud following you that smells like bad eggs and gasoline because you fart-smell all the time even when you don't fart because YOU SUCK for liking dumb comics.
For a recap of the San Fran audition, and a list of who made it through to the LA/SemiFinal show, check out THIS LINK RIGHT HERE.
The odd thing is that I feel like I was fooled this time. Like I had a shot at it. Nope. And not to diminish others who DID make it to the next round, but damn, when a guy as funny as Dwight Slade cannot get any love, then you KNOW the show isn't about Comedy. It's about trying to find sexy people who can be "funny enough" to be on a show where stand-up comedy is part of the equation. Dwight Slade, btw, is inarguably FUNNY. You cannot deny that. Try it.
So NO, I won't try out again.
I'll make my fame the old-fashioned way: COATTAIL RIDING. I will get some famous comic everyone else loves to love MY comedy, and I'll open for that guy for 5 months on the road, and get rich that way. Famous, too, but rich, mostly.
Every year, people tell me they watched LCS and then say "Yeah, the guy who won? He isn't funny. I didn't laugh once when he was on stage."
Well, my goal this year was to be UNFUNNY enough to win. I failed. Sorry, I guess I'm just too funny to win.
So if you decide to spend some time this Summer watching LCS on NBC, remember, it's not a show about stand-up comedy. It's not cast with the best-available comics, so how could it be? In the meantime, I'll be writing more and better jokes, writing more scripts, and getting emotionally ready for the grind of... well... that's for another time.
Rest-assured, my comedy will be on TV within a year. Tune in to COPS around next Valentine's Day.
One last thing...
TWO people from Seattle made the LA SemiFinal show, Jeff Dye, and Andy Haynes. I really like each of these guys and wish them only the best of luck. I did 2 weeks of comedy with Andy Haynes during the competition, and was impressed nightly with how far he's come as a comic. Jeff Dye has made HUGE strides in comedy since he started, and gets better all the time. They're both funny, they're both good looking, and they are both going to do very well, I hope. If Andy gets that mean mug off his face. Guy always looks like he just lost a bet to a blind man and has to eat what's in the bag.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Carpe Frigging Diem!
In my life, I'm pushing myself harder and further than I thought I could, or should, or wanted to, at times. Because it's for things I love, like Comedy, or Writing, or my Marriage and Wife.
And every single time I do, I know it's because I have had, and will have more moments where I have to step up and get both cheeks into it, and just power one into the cheap seats.
If y'ain't heard of Paul Potts, now ya heard.
Paul went on to win the competition and a lucrative recording contract and, I hope, the respect and admiration of a good people, and some serious hawt ass.
SEIZE.
YOUR.
MOMENT.
Run that show, baby.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
And every single time I do, I know it's because I have had, and will have more moments where I have to step up and get both cheeks into it, and just power one into the cheap seats.
If y'ain't heard of Paul Potts, now ya heard.
Paul went on to win the competition and a lucrative recording contract and, I hope, the respect and admiration of a good people, and some serious hawt ass.
SEIZE.
YOUR.
MOMENT.
Run that show, baby.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Friday, April 06, 2007
The Last Time This Comic Stands For That
The growing popularity of self-empowerment and needing attention has caused far too many people to stand in line for a shot at fame. This is true with American Idol, Presidential Elections, and for Last Comic Standing. Remember the old days, where talented people really stood out from the crowd and were immediately snatched up to sleep with assistant director’s assistants for a spot in a commercial for used cars? Aaaah, the early 2000’s.
The last and latest open call audition for a shot at the NBC show “Last Comic Standing,” now entering season 5-ish. The line started, from all reports, around 36 hours ahead of the auditions. I was still at home in the Seattle area when I got the call at 2pm that the line was already nearly 100 deep. I almost cancelled my ticket, but seriously, how many chances will I get in life to have a dream shot of sleeping outside and standing in the Arizona sun before having a dream crushed on TV? None, because those dreams were not going with me. They had other work to handle at home. LCS is a chance for a comedian to quantum-leap in their career. It means TV, great managers and agents, more money, and also a lot more road time and chances to build a career. It is a shot worth taking, just make sure the aim is true.
I got to the Tempe Improv around 9pm, and got in line with Travis Simmons, and we were numbers 94 & 95. We walked up and down the line to find people we knew, and chatted a while. I cannot give enough Thanks and Admiration to the lady who started the list of names and numbers so we could flow freely to and fro in the line. It saved a lot more headaches the following day. And to the comedians, the campers, the hopeful in line who worked together to make sure nobody had their stuff stolen, and nobody lost their place in line. We policed our own, and it worked out greatly.
The end of the line, at 9:30pm, was #171. In 2006 I got in line at 10pm and was 75th in line. Why would the line have grown so much in the past year? Please see the opening line of this entry. There are barely 171 funny people IN THE WORLD, I guarantee you that they were not all congregated on the sidewalk and lawn of a strip mall in Tempe. Funny is, of course, subjective, and it would be subjected to many twists and turns over the next 20 hours. The line would swell to over 200, which was small compared to other places.
So let’s get to the highlights:
1) The San Antonio fall-out helped the line have more comics than expected, and those guys are very dedicated. Check out THIS entry at SheckyMagazine.com for why that was so. The producers of the auditions appeared to have handled things poorly in TX, causing a rumored 50 comedians to head for Tempe.
2) Rumor had it that upwards of 20 spots in the front of the line were claimed by students of the local university. Not sure if that’s true, but if so, it kills 20 spots in line for people who may have had legit shots at having impressive auditions. Not that college kids aren't funny, but, by tradition, people aren't funny when they still have hope.
3) Open calls are not for the faint of heart or weak of ego. Hell, there were people I have seen on MAD TV, MTV, working comics and touring acts and commercial actors IN LINE for this thing. It matters a lot to some people. Those 20 spots matter a little more now.
4) There was one guy in particular in Tempe who kept trying to cut in line, a guy with a chain going from his ear to his nose, wearing blue and red, and everyone kept an eye on him. He was roundly booed and chastised for lying about purchasing a spot from a woman who had moved for a moment.
5) As the day moved on, people were buying spots from comedians near the front of the groups that were being herded through. The biggest buyouts were $400, the lowest I know of was $250 for a spot 4 ahead of mine, which was #87 when all was said and done. Attrition, heat, reality check, people left for whatever reasons.
6) While people complained about how long it was taking to get through the appointments of comedians who got a nod from an agent or booker so they didn’t have to wait in line, I reminded a few people that having an appointment doesn’t mean that person’s a better comedian than anybody else, or that they’ll have a better shot at getting through. The bigger issue for many people, that one could sense from the fact that so many people were saying it, was that a lot of the line were “headliners” and “road comics” and “veterans” and waiting in that line can be a gut check as much as a career check. It was for me.
7) A friend of mine, Andy Peters, had an appointment and did a joke that they said they couldn’t use on TV. I’ve heard the bit, it’s hysterical, and it’s far less offensive than a Gollum impression, how black people differ from white people, or having one premise about how your mother from another country says things funny because she’s, you know, from another country. To me, anyway. Andy is a very good comedian and is on his way up, so I told him not to sweat blowing the biggest opportunity of his comedy career.
The last audition to be seen was probably # 80 in line. Prior to that, there was zero line movement for about 2.5 hours. I did not get to audition. At that point, I don’t even know that I would be ready to go do jokes, just basically go in and talk about the humanity and the weird coolness… cool weirdness… of the phenomenon of fame, lines, and people who need hugs from their parents. I suspect next year people will camp out in line again, and some of them will be there with a plan and a dream. Some will be there with a price tag on their spot, camping out merely to sell it off. The best suggestion I heard was to have the producers call the clubs of cities near or in their audition spots to pick 20 comedians, have them compete for 5 or 10 appointment spots, (so you could get 30 to 50 appointments from a city and it’s neighboring metropolis, plus whomever else got a slot from outside sources), and then let the open call be for people who have no idea that their city even has a comedy club or a scene, or people not up to snuff for one of those spots. It’s a plan that favors the best of the bunch, and I’ll always support that.
So next year, would I do it again? Not without an appointment. Which means the next year requires that I keep working to evolve as a comedian and a person and get my act together, in all senses of the phrase. I actually got to meet and talk with a guy who is an active, working writer for TV and commercials, which is where I want to get to, soon. His insight and attitude and buddy-ship were worth every penny I spent on the trip.
Also, my buddy Ryan Hamilton made it through the first selection round, so he’ll be getting some TV time very soon. Watch him and vote for him every chance you get. He’s a great comedian, a great human being, and has absolutely no chance of helping my career, so you know what I say is sincere. I wish those comedians with established careers and Comedy Central Presents: specials all the best as they move towards getting more MySpace hits.
Back to the funny.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
The last and latest open call audition for a shot at the NBC show “Last Comic Standing,” now entering season 5-ish. The line started, from all reports, around 36 hours ahead of the auditions. I was still at home in the Seattle area when I got the call at 2pm that the line was already nearly 100 deep. I almost cancelled my ticket, but seriously, how many chances will I get in life to have a dream shot of sleeping outside and standing in the Arizona sun before having a dream crushed on TV? None, because those dreams were not going with me. They had other work to handle at home. LCS is a chance for a comedian to quantum-leap in their career. It means TV, great managers and agents, more money, and also a lot more road time and chances to build a career. It is a shot worth taking, just make sure the aim is true.
I got to the Tempe Improv around 9pm, and got in line with Travis Simmons, and we were numbers 94 & 95. We walked up and down the line to find people we knew, and chatted a while. I cannot give enough Thanks and Admiration to the lady who started the list of names and numbers so we could flow freely to and fro in the line. It saved a lot more headaches the following day. And to the comedians, the campers, the hopeful in line who worked together to make sure nobody had their stuff stolen, and nobody lost their place in line. We policed our own, and it worked out greatly.
The end of the line, at 9:30pm, was #171. In 2006 I got in line at 10pm and was 75th in line. Why would the line have grown so much in the past year? Please see the opening line of this entry. There are barely 171 funny people IN THE WORLD, I guarantee you that they were not all congregated on the sidewalk and lawn of a strip mall in Tempe. Funny is, of course, subjective, and it would be subjected to many twists and turns over the next 20 hours. The line would swell to over 200, which was small compared to other places.
So let’s get to the highlights:
1) The San Antonio fall-out helped the line have more comics than expected, and those guys are very dedicated. Check out THIS entry at SheckyMagazine.com for why that was so. The producers of the auditions appeared to have handled things poorly in TX, causing a rumored 50 comedians to head for Tempe.
2) Rumor had it that upwards of 20 spots in the front of the line were claimed by students of the local university. Not sure if that’s true, but if so, it kills 20 spots in line for people who may have had legit shots at having impressive auditions. Not that college kids aren't funny, but, by tradition, people aren't funny when they still have hope.
3) Open calls are not for the faint of heart or weak of ego. Hell, there were people I have seen on MAD TV, MTV, working comics and touring acts and commercial actors IN LINE for this thing. It matters a lot to some people. Those 20 spots matter a little more now.
4) There was one guy in particular in Tempe who kept trying to cut in line, a guy with a chain going from his ear to his nose, wearing blue and red, and everyone kept an eye on him. He was roundly booed and chastised for lying about purchasing a spot from a woman who had moved for a moment.
5) As the day moved on, people were buying spots from comedians near the front of the groups that were being herded through. The biggest buyouts were $400, the lowest I know of was $250 for a spot 4 ahead of mine, which was #87 when all was said and done. Attrition, heat, reality check, people left for whatever reasons.
6) While people complained about how long it was taking to get through the appointments of comedians who got a nod from an agent or booker so they didn’t have to wait in line, I reminded a few people that having an appointment doesn’t mean that person’s a better comedian than anybody else, or that they’ll have a better shot at getting through. The bigger issue for many people, that one could sense from the fact that so many people were saying it, was that a lot of the line were “headliners” and “road comics” and “veterans” and waiting in that line can be a gut check as much as a career check. It was for me.
7) A friend of mine, Andy Peters, had an appointment and did a joke that they said they couldn’t use on TV. I’ve heard the bit, it’s hysterical, and it’s far less offensive than a Gollum impression, how black people differ from white people, or having one premise about how your mother from another country says things funny because she’s, you know, from another country. To me, anyway. Andy is a very good comedian and is on his way up, so I told him not to sweat blowing the biggest opportunity of his comedy career.
The last audition to be seen was probably # 80 in line. Prior to that, there was zero line movement for about 2.5 hours. I did not get to audition. At that point, I don’t even know that I would be ready to go do jokes, just basically go in and talk about the humanity and the weird coolness… cool weirdness… of the phenomenon of fame, lines, and people who need hugs from their parents. I suspect next year people will camp out in line again, and some of them will be there with a plan and a dream. Some will be there with a price tag on their spot, camping out merely to sell it off. The best suggestion I heard was to have the producers call the clubs of cities near or in their audition spots to pick 20 comedians, have them compete for 5 or 10 appointment spots, (so you could get 30 to 50 appointments from a city and it’s neighboring metropolis, plus whomever else got a slot from outside sources), and then let the open call be for people who have no idea that their city even has a comedy club or a scene, or people not up to snuff for one of those spots. It’s a plan that favors the best of the bunch, and I’ll always support that.
So next year, would I do it again? Not without an appointment. Which means the next year requires that I keep working to evolve as a comedian and a person and get my act together, in all senses of the phrase. I actually got to meet and talk with a guy who is an active, working writer for TV and commercials, which is where I want to get to, soon. His insight and attitude and buddy-ship were worth every penny I spent on the trip.
Also, my buddy Ryan Hamilton made it through the first selection round, so he’ll be getting some TV time very soon. Watch him and vote for him every chance you get. He’s a great comedian, a great human being, and has absolutely no chance of helping my career, so you know what I say is sincere. I wish those comedians with established careers and Comedy Central Presents: specials all the best as they move towards getting more MySpace hits.
Back to the funny.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
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