The extent of my 2008 political material was simply a joke about how if you really look at the TV all you have is an old white guy and a young black guy arguing and that hasn’t been on primetime since the 70’s when we had All in the Family.  Now the election is over and once again the old white guy looks like an ass, I can retire this material and move on to discussing things I actually know something about.  But before I do, here’s where I stand on a few of the issues I heard during the past election.

Free Shitty Healthcare

Aren’t we the same country that thinks our healthcare sucks?  We can’t rid the earth of cancer, AIDS, or Crabs?  We can wipe the plague from the face of the earth but we still have crabs hiding in hotel room sheets (I swear that’s where they came from)?  If we don’t believe it’s working properly, why does it matter who pays the bill?

Pry it from my cold dead fingers

I’ve read more NRA propaganda saying that in 2009 they’re going to take away the guns.  Here’s an idea assholes.  Instead of preaching to the choir, how about educating politician who may not be aware of how gun control effects the masses.  The smartest thing I ever heard Obama say on gun control was a statement he made admitting he was wrong in supporting a shitty IL gun control law.  The smartest thing I ever heard an NRA spokesperson say is…

Joe Biden is an asshole

Dick Cheney shot a guy in the face.  Ah…Shhhh.  In the damn face.

 

After you’ve been a comic for a certain period of time, you loose small parts of your personality. You’ve heard every silly joke/premise that it takes some people 20 years to catch wind of. Most things no longer make you laugh, they simply make you jealous you didn’t write them. And some of us loose the filter in our heads that says, “don’t say/do that.”
The other day I saw a retarded girl sitting on the floor in the mall chewing on a cell phone. I took a blurry picture because I was shaking from laughing and while I was emailing it to every comic I know, my wife asked me what I was doing. (Silence, try to explain)… “being an asshole.”

In the last 14 months I’ve had an accidental house fire, accidental child, and someone accidentally totaled my truck while it was parked. My new dog eats it’s own shit, my new daughter shits more than she eats, and my old neighbor’s wife won’t keep her nose out of my shit. We painted our red house grey, traded my brown truck for a blue car, and my liver may be the reason I’m yellow. My wife got nicer, my act got meaner, and did I mention my neighbor’s wife is a cunt? My mother-in-law claimed her shortness of breath was a heart attack, a bruise on her head was a blood clot, and I’m an asshole (that one she got right although I’m surprised she didn’t call me rectal cancer). My wife got her 2nd college degree, my daughter started kindergarden, and I got kicked out of the PTA. I paid for tubes to be tied, nuts to be cut, and still got told nothing is 100%. I bought a scooter and wrecked it, a go-cart and flipped it, and a 26′ couch and fucked the wife on it. Four of us lived in an 800 square foot house for 8 months, two of us drove 800 miles to perform for 12 people, and one of us calls the cops every third day at 8:00 to claim his neighbor’s wife may have died in her sleep. I started adding faces to my book, I use tweetdeck and twinkle for my twitter, and I pressed some words to create this very useless blog.

When I was 15 my step father gave me the most influential piece of advice I’ve ever received. There have been other statements that helped me make more money, or kept me out of jail (with only two exceptions), but this single statement is the one that effected the way more decisions have been made throughout my entire life. He simply said, “Guys like that grow up to fuck fat ugly women.”
Why don’t more people give honest direct advise like that? I would have been much less of a fuck up as a child if people would have just stuck to the point when trying to tell me what mistakes I was making. Don’t say she’s not the girl for me. Tell me she sucked you off in a subway bathroom. Okay, bad example, but you get the point.
And the point behind this blog is once again my stepfather’s prediction has come true. Friday night the wife and I went to a local bar to meet up with some people I went to high school with. For the most part the evening went much like it would have 16 years ago (I was drunk) but I did enjoy catching up with a few people I’d lost track of. One is a photographer and from what I remember probably a pretty good one. Two others fly dirigibles (blimps, if you have to ask like I did) which for some reason I find fascinating. And then there are the people who live less than a mile from me and I haven’t seen them in 10 years. But my favorite is a guy who walked in the back and stood at the edge of the crowd all night. In grade school he was the first to introduce me to the word nigger (the first sign of my step father’s prediction) by explaining to me informing me “we don’t eat with them.” In the 7th grade he constantly felt the need to analyze the status of everyone’s pubic hair (not included in the prediction, but still really fucking odd). And for some reason once a year for the last 15 years, someone comes up to me to let me know just how much this guy despises me. We’ve never fought, we’ve never even confronted each other, yet he still finds the time to converse about his hatred for me. About 10 years ago I got fired from my job for 5 minutes (the subject of another blog, I promise). The VP who felt the need to fire me, also felt the need to discuss it with his family at the dinner table the night before. The VP’s son informed the gentlemen in question and for 6 months after that I heard stories about how happy he was that I’d lost the job (that I didn’t loose). Each time I’ve heard these stories I’ve been a little miffed about them as most people would be. Then this past Friday night came along and my step father’s advise/prediction turned my head towards the door. I saw a bald middle aged man (easy assholes, I’m bald by choice) walk in a bar, grab a water, and stand at the edge of a crowd trying to talk his way into the pants of girls 15 years younger and 50 pounds heavier. The only way I could have been happier is if he had a hair piece that was slightly askew, and plaid pants. Well, I would have been happier if he was still asking to see everyone’s pubic hair but that would probably take place behind the bar instead of in it.
Thanks Pops. If it weren’t for you and a subway bathroom or two, life might have been different for me. Instead, so far I’ve lived it to the fullest and all the fat ugly women I’ve nailed have been by choice and not necessity.

I’ll preface this blog by stating I’m completely aware I’m not at a gleaming example of good health. I eat and drink in excess more often than a should and about once a month I make a life decision to loose 20 pounds which sticks for as long as it takes me to find a bar that serves a good stout. That’s why today I was eating a plain grilled chicken sandwich for lunch when I looked up and saw a 350 pound asshole eating a cheeseburger bigger and greasier than any deep fried pig you’ve ever come across. As I’m watching this overindulgent dip-shit eat three times the equivalent of my daily calorie intake I’m thinking to myself, “I never want to be that guy.”
Then I took a closer look at the guy and the burger and thought, “I might want to be that guy.” That guy is happy. He has a 10 pound fist and a wife that listens. He has a $500 truck and a $50 couch, both almost paid for. He isn’t worried about the economy because his worst financial problem is how to buy a WWE pay-per-view with the money he was supposed to use to pay the cable bill. I think I have a new outlook on life and if I play it right I’ll be the biggest bad ass in the trailer park.

As much as I’m a fan of Russell Brand and all the shit he’s pulled, today he’s pissing me off. Russell Brand has approached a studio to remake the Dudley Moore classic “Arthur.” Why? I certainly understand why some comics take a movie just as a paycheck. If someone offered me the lead in Benji for 10 million I’d practice humping legs for a year. But, if I was starving in a ditch I wouldn’t shit on another comic’s masterpiece. Does Russell want to remake Arthur because it doesn’t hold up anymore? I still spit beer watching the skeet shooting scene - BANG “Pull… hit the bullet, hit the bullet!” The Arthur movies were not about a funny drunk, they were about “the” funny drunk. Over 20 years later when an impression of a drunk male is performed, it’s 100% Arthur. They will not be made better, so why bother? The only thing that would make this movie acceptable is if he is planning on doing a CGI remake where the only change is Russell Brand replacing Liza Mennelli.

There are pros and cons to both small town and big city life. In the city I can get fried chicken and chocolate milk at 4:30 in the morning, but in a town that’s only 8 blocks long it’s only takes about 5 minutes to catch the assholes who hit my truck.

I am the proud parent of a special needs child.  She needs me to make sure she doesn’t shit, and then get back into the bath to clean her ass.  This is what I found my 5 year old doing last week as I walked past her standing in the bath tub.  I started to ignore her stance but something told me to investigate further.  As I looked in the toilet I found a present similar to those I’ve left in friend’s apartments, only this bowl was missing something… toilet paper.  When asked what her reason was for not wiping her ass, she politely informed me she was in the process of completing the process in question.  I then noticed her bath sponge wedged between her butt cheeks.

This obviously doesn’t make my kid retarded, and based on the fact that she was cleaning it and not smearing it on the wall I’d say she’s not Brazilian.  She could have just been taking my constant advice on time management, however I’m not convinced on that one because she wasn’t texting anyone during the incident.  I’m going to justify the situation by saying she’s a budding environmentalist.  Her refusal to flush the toilet was a stance on water conservation.  Obviously someone with such green ideals would also be concerned about the fact that none of our toilet paper is made from recycled materials (I like the stuff with the lotion).  Her age limits her finance and transportation options so purchasing her own recycled tree bark isn’t a choice that’s available to her.  With a bath tub already full of water less than three feet away, and a biodegradable bath sponge suitable for the task at hand, my daughter made the only decision her morals would allow.  She stood up for her beliefs society be damned.  She fought for change.  And then she changed her sponge and bath water and washed her little filthy ass again.

 

 

Anyone that’s followed my career the last few years knows that I try to work at as many of Matt Davis‘ Sin Shows as possible.  They pop up in various cities around the country, sometimes in a comedy club, some times a rock venue, and if the economy doesn’t swing up in the near future they may become a place where comics fight to blow CEO’s for gas money.  As for now though they seem to be doing well and I enjoy stopping by to drop vulgar rants in front of the staff of the local Hot Topic and a the occasional rehab drop out (thanks for coming by Joe).  There are always two constants at any Sin Show:

1.  There will be vulgar comments made about our friends in the room.  My worst was probably when my sister decided to stop in and was greeted with “for those of you who only banged her twice, her name is Heather.” 

2.  Someone who’s going up is getting thrown to the wolves… whether they like it or not.

You see, the Sin Show is about showcasing the material of a certain group of comics.  Most of the time this is material that won’t normally fly in a comedy club for fear that comment cards may affect our house payments.  The only rule is that there are no rules.  None.  Say what you want, but remember it’s still comedy so make it funny or suffer the consequences.  Okay so there is one rule but since we’re comics and not toastmasters we’re supposed to know that shit going in.  The problem with designing a show around material that doesn’t normally work in a comedy club, is that most comics don’t write material unless they can perform it in a comedy club.  There are a few exceptions like Matt, myself, Kerry White, Josh Goguen, Mo Alexander, Paul Hooper, Jason Barnes (whom I’ve just met and is very promising), and a few others who will be pissed I got tired of adding links.  The guy that I’m talking about however is does not write like we do.  Not yet anyway.  But Matt puts him up.  Either to watch him sweat, to make us laugh crowd be damned, or maybe just to give him a shot which the first time he will normally blow (like we all have).  

The best of this bait set is most likely Joe Zimmerman.  Joe is not a vulgar comic, and certainly can’t be described as energetic.  But, he’s funny as fuck… sometimes only to other comics but the crowds are quickly catching up.  His crowd is not a Sin Show crowd yet time after time when Matt has put him up he has held his own.  He stands there confident in his material, and creeps the crowd out until they give up and admit he’s funny.  I highly recommend anyone that reads this track down some of Joe’s videos and watch them.  Then go back a few days later and watch them again.  You will understand by then.

So if you see a Sin Show on my schedule or anyone other comic, stop in.  You can be assured that you’ll hear things you cringed just thinking about, you’ll see things difficult to describe, and one comic just won’t fit.  He’s usually my favorite.

My wife is a sparkling jewel that has risen atop a steaming shit stained pile of white trash.  That’s the first line of the blog I wanted to write at the end of last week.  But I didn’t, at least I didn’t post it.  I wrote it, oh I wrote the shit out of it.  But I didn’t post it because I didn’t want to hurt my wife’s feelings.  Better yet, I didn’t want her to think about the situation that led to the first line of this blog anymore than she had to.  

Five hours after closing two bars in Reno (yes, it’s possible) my wife called to tell me her mother was in the hospital because her brain was bleeding.  Most of her family was telling her it didn’t look good, and she should get up there as soon as she could.  Two hours later I got another call to let me know the bleeding had stopped, but now there is a blood clot in her brain.  Whew, that was close… wait, um, I think.  

Like any sensible husband who’s never been on TV, at this point I’ve changed my flight and heading home.  Within an hour or so, I’m sitting in a leather seat trying to figure out if US Air will catch their mistake of only charging me an extra $500 to change my ticket.  Suckers.  When this thought fades away (who am I kidding, I’m still fuming about that shit), I get another call to inform me, false alarm, she’s fine.  The nurse has explained to my wife that her brain was never bleeding, she never had a clot, she only had a small knot on the back of her head.  Aren’t we happy she’s okay?  Yes, we’re just as happy as we were two days after our house burned when instead of figuring out if we should buy underwear or food first, we were listening to this same woman tell us about her brush with death.  It appears she had a massive heart attack but they said it was okay for her to go home from the hospital.  When my wife got there to pick her up she witnessed her mother arguing with the doctor about the validity of this supposed heart attack.  It appears that death did not touch her.  It didn’t even whisper in her fucking ear.

This is what I have come to know as normal behavior for my mother-in-law.  It’s actually normal behavior for everyone in my wife’s immediate family.  It’s odd that even though the rest of her family lives on the same road, only my mother-in-law’s house trailer has been stricken with an inability to avoid ignorant and sometimes felonious behavior.  Even as I write this I feel sure the idiot in question is attempting to convince someone that with her heart attack, bleeding brain, and lack of my love she probably won’t make it until the end of the year.

There are many more details to this store that infuriate me, but I’m forced to omit them out of respect for my wife.  It amazes me how she was able to escape this vacuous chamber of disrespectful moronic behavior and become the levelheaded wife and mother that she is today.  Her mom has contributed to the ruin of at least 3 lives that I’m aware of, isn’t my wife obligated to inherit at least some of that crazy and pass it on to our daughters?  Shouldn’t she at least fake a hernia surgery?  If she’s hiding the crazy, she’s been doing it for 10 years.  So again, out of respect for her I won’t mention the other issues with her immediate family.  Her grandparents are lovely people so there is no reason to mention that her mother has actually told people I’m going to murder my wife and make it look like an accident.  Every aunt, uncle, and cousin I’ve met have been nothing but gracious towards me and my children so what reason is there to bring up that my wife’s sister allegedly contracted herpes at age 15 while living in an abandoned school bus.  My wife has been the perfect companion for a very long time and because of that I don’t think it’s right to tell the entire world that I’m pretty sure her niece hasn’t been able to walk across a parking lot since age 13 without sucking a dick.  I keep all these secrets to myself, because it’s the right thing to do.