Culture Schlock

In the past few days the average temperature in LA has been 87 degrees in a freezer. It's hot. It's not an Equatorial-nation swelter, it's just a heat that says "It's my job, don't bother me." The slowing-you-down kind of heat. And it's October. I'm not used to this. Normally by now I'd be scrounging for some sort of herbal anti-depressant and sleeping deeply at night. But lately, nope, it's just too frigging hot.
And Awesome.
Last night, and some of today, it rained. Just a smattering of rain, the kind LA natives probably think is a sign of the apocalypse. But for Seattlers, t'weren't nothin'. It was welcomed.

Now, RIGHT NOW, assholes across the alley from our bedroom are tearing down the party scene of a soiree at an art gallery, to which we were NOT invitees. Thus, assholes. People here work the alleyways. A lot of non-white people stroll the 'ways peering into the recycling bins to see if there's any glass or aluminum beer/energy drink/coffee cans to turn in for money. One lady who frequents the block wears jewelry on her route, or "day job." Nice touch, a little hoop action while peering into gar-bazh buckets. I am planning on rigging a bat on a string under the lid of ours, because it's private property and they shouldn't be pokin' around. Plus it's almost Halloween.
By the way... Pico Party Rentals can eat a hot plate of caca, hombre.

But, I digress...

Tuesday night I went to the H'wood Improv to meet a comic who is a friend-of-a-friend. When they say "It's all about who you know," that's only 95% true. The other 5% is luck, talent, and emotional preparedness. I say this because I've been blessed with incredibly helpful people who have "sent the elevator back" to get me. Now it's up to me to push those buttons and fig're out which floors I am getting off at. BUT, I digress...

Tuesday, I chat briefly with the intended meet-up, and think I may go home soon after, as he's off to another show uptown. Then I figure, no, I've invested too much already for one contact, let's chat. I meet another guy named Chris Millhouse, funny comic and show producer around here. We talk, he tells me about another room to work my way into. Very cool of Chris. Then... I see a line growing outside. On a Tuesday night. For COMEDY. So I check the line up.

Dave Attell.

Christopher Titus.

Two of my main influences, the latter being a major influence on my story-length material about real life, the former being simply one of the funniest jokemasters ever. I offer, from Dave Attell...
"I watched the Presidential Debates with the sound off, and it looked like a snowman yelling at a pharoah. Why is Frosty yelling at King Tut, Jr.?"

Also that same night I run into Iliza Schlesinger, winner of the most-recent season of Last Comic Standing. We talked a bit, as we both know Jeff "Jackpot" Dye and Marcus from the comedy circles. Iliza is really a cool person who loves comedy and what she's doing. Again, it's another situation of people helping out. I really hope I get to the point where I can help people on their way up.

Surreal, and yet it is Now. It IS.

And so, on Sunday, I'm off to downtown LA to shoot scenes for a feature-length film about corporate douchebaggery, trudging, and malaise. I've been in town a month, and got a part because a friend helped me out, my work was noticed, and I can DO THIS, yo.

When it comes time for you to take a swing at your dream, get both cheeks into it. The payoff, well hell, sometimes that's just a Tuesday.

Funniest thing about LA is that the entertainment industry is the ONLY industry in the world where discrimination and prostitution are legal, daily occurrences. You can be excluded because you are not the right ethnicity, age, body type, gender, or general look. You can have sex for money and as long as somebody films it, it's protected under the Constitution. Hmm. Observed.

I'll write more about Bob another time.

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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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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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SICC Again; the Comics You Know

I am a finalist in the Seattle International Comedy Competition.
It hit me last Sunday in a deluge of emails, texts, phone calls, but not a SINGLE chunky muffin basket. Nor a tastefully-shot half-nude of Geoff Brousseau. Thank you very little.

I cannot take all the credit for getting to where I am. I have had the help, support, and well wishes of my wife, my family, my friends, and many of my friends who are comics. I have felt only minor tinges of pain throughout all of this. Sometimes just gas. Sometimes emotional. Oft-times the result of seeing Integrity take a rake to the back. You can't control what everyone else does. The best you can do is control your own moments, your own performance, and dumb it down so very deeply that even the most qualified of comedy judges isn't challenged by what you're doing.

But I progress. DI-gress.

Going into this final show tonight at the Comedy Underground Marcus, an impressionist with energy to burn, is in 1st. He is a stage monster. He is a one-man, live-band karaJoke jam, audiences cannot get enough of him, and he's played everywhere you can play in this state.

Close behind is Tony Boswell, an incredible writer and comedian who reminds me of a very good whiskey, a sweet and smoky warmth that doesn't quite burn. But could. It's like watching a Miles Davis solo in comedy form, laughing when the notes trail to something you thought would go one way, and just give you the chills instead. I wish I would have written a lot of the stuff Tony is doing.

Leif Skyving has impressed me nightly since the beginning with great joke-writing, great performances, and fully embracing the entirety of his life for material. He shies from nothing, and makes it all Funny. I would love to work some gigs with Leif, but that's an awful lot of Northern European man-funny for an audience to unzip for.

Key Lewis has taken rooms over with energy, and has commanded stages with coolness. This guy's got so many talents that there's no way to tell what he can do yet. But it's big. To FINAL your first time through this thing is a Feat. And he's married. With 3 kids. And a full time job that one day had him on the road to Portland at 5am, and BACK to the Vashon show on time. Impressive stuff all the way around.

I'm in the mix as well. Placings don't matter right now. Doing the best possible set I can for the last night of the competition is all that matters.

I will summarize my own feelings throughout the entire run of 18 shows over three weeks of the waning month of November 2007. As autumn has turned earnest, my thoughts of comedy, my own and in general, have been injected with respect, drive, and a focus on Doing The Comedy I Want To Be Remembered For.

I can always write more jokes. Better jokes. Better comedy. Bigger Funny.
And I will.

Oh wait, here's that Brousseau picture!


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Sea SICC

Alright, back to the blog here for ya before I hit the rack for some pre-Thanksgiving Day sleepage. Back from Vashon Island tonight from the show. Didn't do so well. Entirely my fault.

My wife is on the homestretch of a cooking marathon. Sides are all done, just gotta get the bird in the hotbox when we wake up and hope we have enough pizza for everyone.

I'm too tired to go over it all, but I'll give ya this much...

I sucked hind teat on Vashon tonight. F'ed my setlist. F'ed myself a little. This is about not shooting myself in the foot as much as it is about delivery and jokes and originality and presence and rapport. I would go further at this time, but judges of comedy don't read my blog. The judges are a microcosm of an audience we perform for. If you don't know what "microcosm" means, odds are you could be a judge at a comedy competition.

Here's the order for the night's scoring:
5) Geoff Lott (only because there isn't a 6th)
4) Key Lewis
3) Leif Skyving (went first and killed)
2) Tony Boswell (went last and killed)
1) Marcus

Thanksgiving Night we have off.
Friday night at the Kirkland Performance Center.
Saturday night in Bremerton at the Admiral Theatre.
Sunday, the final Finals night, at the Comedy Underground in Seattle.

I want, need, must see you soon.

Count your blessings, be grateful, sleep tight.
Gloves are off.

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SICC 'em

Last night was the final show of the SemiFinals in Rochester.
Huge room. About 750 people. Flat, like a room you could have bingo, squaredancing, and/or tractor auctions in.

I'm just gonna get to the meat and give details later...

I AM IN THE FINALS OF THE SEATTLE INTERNATIONAL COMEDY COMPETITION, 2007!

That's Marcus, Key Lewis, Leif Skyving, our MC this week - John McClellan, Tony Boswell, and Geoffrey Lott.

I had a couple of great sets, but mostly just steady and consistent and knocking it out from venue to venue. I stayed true to my form, my jokes, and myself. Got rattled once in the 2 weeks, and had way more fun this time around.

I gotta get outta here, because we're going to the Seahawks game and we wanna tailgate.
I'll write more for ya later. Details, dirt, snark, critiques, fashion reports.



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