Mish-mash of Comedy Musings

I write my name on the paper strip and glance into the bucket to see if the paper strips are folded and then fold my paper accordingly. I got a tip early on that if I should drop my name into the bucket 5 minutes before the mic starts, my name would be closer to the surface. Superstition among comedians. Sure enough, I got called up first at The Hollywood Improv with this method. Most of the time I drop my name too early and then my name isn't pulled for a good hour. Maybe there's something to this. When my name is on the bottom, the host doesn’t always mix it well enough to get that baby back to the surface.

Why do I even think about this bullshit, just throw the name in.


The Devastator (a partial set)

One day she decided to meet me half way. She decided she was on board with anal sex...yeah. So that way technically she could still be a virgin...at least in God’s eyes and I would get what I want. And BOY let me tell you man, everything they say about the ass is 100% true, the tip just slides right in man and aww fuck... my asshole hasn’t felt the same since.

Scattered laughs. It’s over-rehearsed, but the joke sort of delivers. He’s wearing a loud Aloha shirt of the Weird Al variety. It feels like a put-on. He came with his friend, who of course is filming his set. He’s going by the name of Devastator. I can’t stand him and I don’t care what the fuck he’s doing. His tone is vaguely arrogant, but there’s clearly no truth behind his material and his delivery is boring.

The last girl I was dating was a fucking asshole. She made me do things I didn’t want to do. The last time I talk to her was...pretty rough. She made me stop watching black porn. Which is ridiculous man...I don’t fuck black women- I have nothing against them, I just can’t have babies with them because I have something weird called sickle-cell trait- you guys know what I’m talking about...it means my kid would come out retarded, so that’s the only reason I wouldn’t go out with them...that and cuz they’re black.

Wakka wakka. He ends his next joke prematurely, leaves the stage, putting on an air of “That’s EXACTLY how I wanted this to go down,” and exits through the side door to the parking lot.

Part of me wants to follow them down the sidewalk, close enough to hear them brag about their accomplishment,

"How fast can we upload this video?"

"That was so Andy Kaufman right there!"

Then I would interrupt,

“Excuse me, DEVASTASTOR? That was amazing man, I’ve never seen anything like that. So BALLSY and unfunny, just like you planned!”

"YO, this guy GETS ME!"


Some guy saw me standing around and introduced himself. He turned out to be the one thing that made the open mic worthwhile.


I was sitting next to a heckler at a bar while an open mic was going on. The host almost had a meltdown dealing with the guy earlier and for now it seemed like the heckler had won. He was yelling from across the room, so he clearly had the advantage over the host, who had to squint at his enemy through the lights. I was tempted to ask him for an interview, but he gave me the information I wanted pretty quick. The heckler complained to his neighbors that it was a bar, "Fuck them if they can’t handle it. Maybe they should perfect their craft first!"

Meanwhile, this guy showed up alone to drink, sharing boring conversations with like-minded idiots. I guess he perfected his craft.

(dramatic One-Up sound as if Marty schooled the man through a shitty blog entry months later)


The crowd slowly filtered out, and I recognized an elderly couple giving each other loving looks. My heart swelled. They had chosen stand-up comedy for a date night. They were laughing through the entire show and on their way out the old man excitedly explained to his wife, "It was THE WAY he made the microphone stand an extension of his penis...that's what separated him from the other comics!" For a moment, I felt triumphant, until I realized he wasn't talking about MY SET, but Jareth's...who had stolen my bit for his own selfish shot of glory. (to be continued)


I'm going to be guesting on a few podcasts:

Comedian Talk (comedians talking about comedy)

Comic Gab (comedians talking about stuff related to comedy)

Funny As *%#! (comedians talking shit about stuff and comedy)

I Can't Stand That Mother-*%@! (comedians talking shit about comedians)

Comedians That Love Cats (comedians having cat discussions with token pussy jokes)

I'm Depressed (comedians working on their openers)

Dude, How'd You Do It? (comedians begging successful friends for advice that doesn't involve actual work)

Yeah, But You're White (black comedians guilting white comedians one joke at a time)

Yeah, But White People Have Problems Too (white comedians trying to convince black comedians that they understand the struggle)

Let's Get Baked (comedians getting high and struggling to make it funny)

Comedy Club Podcast (club owners talking about comedy classes and name-dropping. They need interns!)

I Killed Last Night (2+ year comedians bragging about their amazing sets to anyone who will listen)

Too Soon? (comedians ripping into celebrities that just died, with discussion about cutting-edge comedy)

I Have A Podcast (a comedian who co-created a podcast with a guy who gave up on it after 3 episodes. Should he keep recording?)


"SO you're a comedian, ay? Tough racket. Have a seat son. How long have you been on stage? A YEAR? Wow, you're still wet behind the ears. (fondly) I remember when I told my first rape joke. Seems like the day before yesterday. I went by the name of Johnny Bonkers. I used to take a banana and stick it up my ass. Then I never addressed it- I just went into my act. I alienated millions! It was very courageous for the time. But anyway, let me give you one piece of advice. Sometimes, you'll feel alone up there, when it's so dark you can't see if anyone is out there and there's that devil of a spotlight BLINDING YOU... and you can't remember the next joke, you're covered in flop sweat, and you start to feel the old ticker head-butting your chest, trying to escape the nightmare that is taking place. But you can't just leave! Because there's always that ONE COMEDIAN out there. Watching you...and you know what? He WANTS to watch you shit your pants. So let him have it."

- excerpt from "A Stand-Up Guy" A one-act play written by Johnny Bonkers.


The laughs are not good enough anymore, I'm chasing after that laugh-clap. Am I a comedian or a bonafide junkie?


There seems to be a pattern where I bomb miserably at a show and then I hit up a second mic where I have no expectations...or hope. I'm completely numb from bombing, but I end up having a good set. Because I'm loose, relaxed, and just being myself. This gave me the idea that I would go into every mic with the mentality that I already bombed in spectacular fashion, sulking my way to the stage, but I could only trick myself so far. The moment I gained confidence, I would start mugging my way through bits and trying too hard once again. Maybe I need a little guardian angel to approach me as I'm walking to the stage- give a quick whisper,

"You suck."