Live Free Or Blog Hard
July 13-14 @ the Funny Farm in Youngstown, OH
July 19-21 @ the Baltimore Comedy Factory
July 27 @ the Mid-Atlantic Comedy Smorgasbord in Frederick, MD
August 10-11 @ Cozzy's in Newport News, VA
August 24-25 @ Banana's in Hasbrouck Heights, NJ
Follow me like Phish...I'll try to fit in a 30 minute jam session somewhere during my show.
Where do I begin... Well, let me start off by saying to anyone who was on I-95S between Delaware and Baltimore on Sunday night, FUCK YOU, YOU BRAKE TAPPING WINDOW LICKERS. Allow me to elaborate. I was on my way home from an extended visit with my impossibly cute nephew, Mo (pictures soon to follow) up in Philly. I was caught in the expected snarl of traffic that bottle necks at the toll right as you get out of Delaware. I was passing the time by doing shadow puppetry on the tailgate of the truck in front of me (that's what YouTube was when I was a kid...damn whippersnappers). Y' know that feeling of liberation as you get out of that kind of traffic? You pay the toll and there's nothing but open road in front of you....BOOOOOOOOOORNNNN FREEEEEEEE...you hit the gas and you feel like Chewie just made the jump to lightspeed as the lane lines blur past you. Cruise control is set, you're ready to make up some lost time, and then you SLAM ON THE GODDAMN BRAKES because some doddering shmuck is doing 65 in the left lane. Hey, putz in the Chevy Impediment, move over or I'll find a way through you. If you're going the speed limit in the left lane of a major thru-way, you're a hazard. And what's worse, is these puttering malignancies don't look in their rear-view mirror, because objects are larger than they appear and they'll just look like a bigger twit, so they can't see me closing in. Now, I'm pretty mild when it comes to highway driving...my rule of thumb is 10mph over whatever is posted...not life-threatening. I'm happy to abdicate my patch of pavement if someone is coming up behind me at a faster clip...it's the courteous thing to do. You move over, the flow of traffic keeps flowing, and everyone's happy. Instead you get these rolling blockades that tap their brakes like Savion Glover on meth with nothing in front of them but their own bleak futures.
Aaaah...catharsis. Here's a double dose of cute to take the edge off of that bit of road rage...
Seriously, you can't dispute the cute of this particular patootie. Much peek-a-boo was played. I got so good at it, that even I didn't know where I was. For a little while, my parents and I were left with the task of feeding the little guy while mom and dad ran a couple of errands. A sumptuous meal of strained sweet potatoes and vitamin-enriched yogurt was on the menu. We put on his bib and put him in his baby butler and proceeded to make a complete mess trying to guide the nummy nummy airplane into the hangar. We thought we were doing pretty well...until Mo decided it was time to get cranky. Wow, did he pitch a fit...contorting his little face into something out of an Edvard Munch rough draft. So, off with the bib and I picked him up to calm him down...as soon as he was up, he started smiling. The little faker was playing us like a fiddle...or a rattle anyway. So it went. We'd put the bib back on, get a few more spoonfuls in, then he'd wig out and I'd pick him up again. I like the kid's policy...eat 'til you cry. Try it sometime...it takes longer as an adult.
Before I forget, I'd like to extend a big thanks to the fine folks at the DC Improv for including me in their first ever Variety Showcase. It featured stand-up, improv, sketch, and multi-media comedic endeavors. They showcased two of the videos that I did with comic compadre, Chris White. It was very cool to see Never Can Say Goodbye and Good Directions (both conveniently linked to your right) played in front of a nearly packed house and hearing them laugh loudly. Warmed my cockels. The evening was hosted by international raconteurs, Larry Poon and Jim Marsdale. Good guys. Larry had a bra thrown at him. It was that kind of night.
Also, please join me in wishing a bon voyage to the man of 1000 voices (and at least 5 kinds of facial hair), Danny Rouhier, who's heading off to seek his fortune in the Big Apple. Fear not, though, he'll be popping back up in the area...like funny herpes. The DC area will get flare ups over the coming months, but shouldn't stop us from canoeing or hot-air ballooning or biking. Although, we should be more careful, seeing as how we just gave him to NY. We're a dirty dirty comedy community. Supportive, but dirty...we should get checked out. I had the pleasure of seeing Danny off at a little not-quite-surprise get together over the weekend. Jay Hastings, Kojo Mante, Larry Poon, and myself represented the comedy circle of Danny's massive Venn diagram of friends. One of the larger circles in there was of chicas mas caliente. In a sea of hot ladies, we were an island of awkwardness. It was like a study in social dysfunction. We just found a patch of floor and huddled around it while we drank and talked shit. Somebody intervene.
By the way, if you're not busy this Thursday night, go check out the debut of a brand new comedy showcase in Adams Morgan, cleverly titled The Bomb Shelter. It's at 18th & Red. It'll feature 4 or 5 of the area's best doing solid 15 minute sets. I'm not sure what time it starts, but 8 is a safe bet. Best of all, it's FREE. So, your good time is guaranteed or...your...time back. I'll get to work on the flux capacitor, you just go have a good time.
That's all for now. I'll try not to keep you waiting for the next one. If we don't talk before the holiday, may the 4th be with you.
To be continued...