Never Miss Out On a Good Time Because of a Little Self-Respect

For me the funniest bit was when I said the first time I masturbated was May 15th at 3AM.  Some one in the audience went, "Seriously?"  At the time I thought she reacted to the fact that I knew the exact time and date(which I really don't).

Watching the video, I now realize she said, "seriously" because I forgot to say May 15th of what year!  She probably thought I meant last May 15th.  I'll either have to correct that or use it.

I hope no one judges this set on crowd response.  There were maybe ten people in the bar at the time of my performance.  Once upon a time, performing for a crowd that size would have made me more nervous than playing to a crowd of fifty or a hundred people.

Lately, I've been feeling the honey badger-like apathy toward getting laughs.  A lot of people don't laugh at my material.  A LOT!  Some boo, some cringe, some scowl.

No one looks bored.  No one ignores.

I'll take that.

Oh, and speaking of honey badgers.  You remember when I did that set about a friend of mine who was suffering from breast cancer.  Of course, you don't.  No one saw that.  Well, here it is again.

I would just like to say that my friend, who has been nicknamed the Honey Badger ('cause, in case you hadn't heard, the Honey Badger just don't give a FUUUUUUCK!), is no longer a breast cancer victim, but a breast cancer SURVIVOR.

She had her surgery this past Monday and is now cancer free.  Two hours after her surgery she woke from her drugged-out, post-op haze just long enough to flash a crowd of friends and family a doofy two thumbs up and a big shit eating grin before passing out again.

I know people say this all the time, but after the last seven months of hell that girl has been through, watching her smile like that at that exact moment...well, you really, really just had to be there.

Thank you for getting through this, HB.  The world is so much more interesting with you in it.

New Segment Titled "Here's How Big Of A Piece of Shit I Am."

This may not be my best work, but I'm proud of it anyway.



This, on the other hand, may have been my finest hour. Or finest five minutes. Whatever.



If you like what you see here and you're in the area come out to Eastside Tavern in Columbia, MO. It's technically an open mic night, but with the regular comics we have it's more like a fucking SHOW. So get your ass out there. Free show. Cheap drinks. Solid comics.

And if you're not in the area go check out Bill Donald's Youtube page and see some of the other comics I work with.

Or don't. See if I care.

I heart whiskey. I heart whiskey all over whiskey's face.

So...me and a buddy are at a bar swilling whiskey with our beers and, like a couple kids asking for five more minutes to sleep before going to school, we decide to beg the bartender for one more shot even though it's well past the cut off point and the bartender announces, much to our manly pride, that even if she could serve us we have already drank all the Jameson in the establishment.

Last thing I remember I'm berating the owner of the bar for his failure to appease the needs of his Irish-American patrons and outlining the possible downfalls of his clearly racist behavior while using a Marine Corps issue K-Bar fighting knife as a visual aid.

I get the impression that my point of argument is taken with begrudging respect just before I black out.

I regain consciousness three days later to find myself with a bloodstained sheriff's badge pinned through my nipple while I'm urinating into the upturned vagina of a Kappa Kappa Ki sorority girl with a tattoo on the small of her back that read, "This Too Shall Pass." Meanwhile, I'm thinking to myself that I understood why there was a goat in the hotel room, but who was the sick bastard who nailed all the gerbils to the wall?

Ahhh! If only I could be as young as I was.

As young as I was earlier this afternoon.