Tuesday, December 13, 2005

It's A Small World (with at least one really bad MC)

So I did a show last night at Stand Up NY. It was supposed to be an "HBO Aspen Callback Show" meaning that a lot of the comics performing were auditioning for The Aspen Comedy Festival. Needless to say, I was not one of them...

The reason that I was invited was to bring five people to the show since it's tough to get a decent crowd on a Monday night (esp in the winter). So I get there and check out the list of performers....it's so long that they needed two pages....I hate when they book like that...it means everyone's getting only five minutes.
When the show started, there were more comics by the bar waiting to go up than audience members.

Anyway,being one of the "bringer" comics, I know that I'm going on close to the end (I know this because they told me - the dude who booked me apologized and told me he'd get me a "real prime time slot next month." I nodded as I watched his nose grow another inch.)

The MC gets on...this chick who's prolly 10 years younger than she looked. She starts doing some crowd work...fine...that's what MC's do. But she's bad at it...really bad. And it's worse when there's little crowd. She starts off merely boring but quickly takes a right turn into insulting territory. There were Indian (from Bombay...not a casino) people sitting in the front who she made fun of...fine. But not only did she keep going but she started doing an Indian accent when speaking. It got uncomfortably quiet, until she picked on some girl who said, "You're not funny," which greatly displeased the MC. She went off on her...telling her how rude she was, blah, blah, blah.

There's a simple rule for an MC - or any comic - when dealing with an audience member. If yer gonna go after them, make sure the crowd is on your side. This crowd - and I use the word "crowd" loosely - wasn't. They hated her more than the crowd hated me on Friday night. The funny thing (to me anyway) was how the situation kept repeating itself. The comics were by and large excellent...then she'd come up to the stage and absolutely kill the crowd (not in a good way). Watching them, I noticed the other comics getting pissed, especially when they were about to go up. The situation actually got even more bizarre. She must've started drinking while other comics were up because she kept missing her cues to get back onstage, leaving the comic up there at the end of his/her set waiting for her...sometimes they didn't wait...they left the stage leaving it empty until she made her way up. She also kept either mispronouncing, and sometimes forgetting the comics' names...in fact, I was worried that she was gonna get me beat up cause she's an idiot (explanation in next paragraph).

The dude who went on before me didn't do well, in fact, he told some rather off-color jokes about blacks (he was Irish...not the black kind) who elicited some boo's. One big black dude in the crowd looked especially perturbed. When the MC went on, she naturally forgot screwed up, and said, "Keep it going for Harris Bloom!" She did this while the black dude and his party were leaving, so they didn't even hear her correct herself. If I get hate mail, I'm forwarding it to her.

I did well...well, as well as one can do in front of the minimal crowd that stuck it out to the bitter end.

Speaking of bitter, the last dude that went on must've been a deranged homeless man who wandered in. He just kept ranted with no apparent puchlines in sight, at times threatening the audience with the mic stand. It really was a fitting conclusion to the evening.

Really weird sidenotes: One of the people who came to see me actually taught preschool to the only other comic on the bill that I knew. Also, one of the other comics on the bill said I looked familiar...he then remembered that we did jury duty together a few months ago. Too bad he didn't stick around to see my act, he could've seen me joke about it.

Rock On,


Monday, December 12, 2005

A Tale of Two SHows

So, as y'all know, Friday night was my first paid gig ever. I was to perform at a fund-raiser for the Hunter College Women's Basketball Team. For some reason I wasn't really nervous going on...maybe I was maturing as a comic...better prepared...more confident in my material. Yes, that must be it!

So when I go in, I find out that the other two comics are Modi, who performs all over the city and, in fact, the country (I've seen him before...he's awesome) and some other dude who I never heard of but has been on Comedy Central and Letterman. I started to get nervous.

Modi, who hadn't arrived yet was gonna go on as soon as he got there because he had another gig that night. I told the MC that I didn't care when I went on since the only plans I had for later that evening involved General Tsao and his lovely chicken. When Modi arrived in time to go on first (after the MC did his thing), the MC asked if I minded following him since the other dude didn't wanna. In the worst decision since that Best dude left The Beatles, I agreed.

First of all, most of the crowd were minority college kids...not really my target audience. I scrapped the idea of doing my jury duty and work related stuff. My nerves increased.

I started getting REALLY nervous when Modi was onstage. . He was killing (that's "doing extremely well"). By the time he left, the crowd was in his hands...laughing even before he got to the punchline. Then it was my turn.

I tell my first joke...a joke about my poor basketball playing ability in an effort to get them on my side......nothing.
I tell my second joke....starting my own material....nothing.

And it went downhill from there.

Not only didn't they laugh much, but I swear, they wanted to beat the crap out of me. The biggest laugh I got was when I said, Thank You," after I told a joke that was met with complete silence. Long story short, I stayed on for about 10-12 minutes but it felt like 30.

(by the way, after the MC introduced the next comic, he saw me in the hall and said, without a trace of irony, "Good set.")

I went to bed that night - after eating a Snickers bar, a Boston Creme Dunkin' Donut, a Toasted Almond coffee from said donut emporium and my General Tsao's - wondering why the heck I'm doing this...and kinda dreading my show planned for the next night at Gotham Comedy Club...where, by the way, Bronwen's parents would see me perform for the first time.

So I was back to my nervous self before Saturday's show. Maybe cause I bombed the previous night, or maybe cause I couldn't remember the wording of my first couple of jokes.

Anyway, I went on fifth. My first joke did well. My second joke did well also. Then, I kicked it up a notch and even got some applause. Though I remained nervous throughout my set (dunno why), the audience was definitely diggin' me. I'm still at the stage where if my first couple of jokes don't do well, I lose confidence up there and I think the audience smells that (well, that and when I piddle on myself up there).

Anyway, I have another gig tonight at Stand Up NY (9 PM)...my fingers are crossed.

Rock On,


Friday, November 25, 2005

I'm Ugly and I'm Not Funny

So I'm at my usual Tuesday night Opne Mic at Stand Up NY on ummm, Tuesday, when the MC decides to chat me up while she's on stage.

"Harris always has these hot women with him."

It's true...she's seen me at a show with Bronwen....Deeanna came with me last week to check out the open mic...and that day, I was sitting with Elaine and Jackie, a couple of pretty comics.

Apparently thinking of things that would attract women to me, she continued, "What's your secret? Are you rich?"
"Ummm, no."
"Are you are really nice guy?"
"Not really."
She then moved on to some other topic.

Walking home later, it hit me. Not knowing me very well, she asked about two things that someone who doesn't know the person might think. However, she does know two things about me...my looks and my act....two things that obviously she thought couldn't be the reason.


Rock On,


Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Restaurant Week with Mom

I decide that I would be a good son and invite mom to Lutece for lunch on Saturday
during Restaurant Week.

First of all, being that Lutece is around the area of the World Economic Forum thing at the Waldorf, mom is concerned about being in the vicinity. I tell her if she's scard, don't go. She says that "it's not a matter of being scared, it's just a matter of getting hit in the head with something". She ends up throwing caution
to the wind and accepting my invitation.

While walking to Lutece, I see that I'm gonna be early so rather than get there too early and be forced into more conversation than I had in me, I decide to stop a few
blocks away and just stop to smell the dog shit. Of course as I'm standing
there who walks towards me but "Mom!". I tell her I saw her coming and

Lutece is very nice (a little stuffy for my taste but food is obviously great...on a scale of 1 to 10 with 1 being the best, I'd give it a 2). Favorite part of meal as far as y'all will be concerned (least favorite for me) was when the waiter comes by asking if we want coffee and mom asks, "Is that included as part of the deal?" Of course upon hearing no, mom says that she's fine. Bad enough but ya gotta love her next line...

"I'll just get the .50 senior citizens coffee at McDonald's on the way home. I could only nod outwardly whilst my tongue was bleeding from my bitemarks.

Rock On,


Monday, November 7, 2005

My Screenplay is Writing Itself

As a sidenote, it's bizarre to me how many people tell me that I have great stage presence. I actually feel weird telling people that I have a fear of public speaking, like they won't believe me or something. I wish that I had a copy of my Blind Date interview to show them.

But unfortunately, no one will remember my performance from that night. No sirree.

THE act of the night was this dude who went on like, 13th. He walked up to the stage with a discman in his ears and an unlit cigarette in his hand.

His opening line? (And I've cleaned it up...)

"This effin' sucks! Putting me up like 13th...I effin' hate this club! I effin' hate stand up comedy!"

and it went downhill from there.

At one point, he asked where his friends were. They shouted out to him, and then he said, "This is for you guys...the rest can go eff themselves!"

He then proceeded to maintain that he doesn't even need a mic, so he stepped away from it...but kept talking. I couldn't hear a thing he said for at least a minute.

Jessica, one of the club's bookers, was standing next to me. As the dude was doing this, she was seething, and under her breath whispered, "He is sooo banned!"

I was surprised she didn't get him offstage earlier but then again, she may've been afraid of what he'd do.

He was either on drugs, or forgot to take his drugs.

Either way...he was awesome (in a train wreck sorta way)

Rock On,


Thursday, November 3, 2005

Define "Insane"

One of my favorite movie quotes is from Con-Air. In it, Nicholas Cage's character (Cameron Poe) says something about not being insane, like the others. Steve Buschemi's character (Garland something), who is a complete lunatic answers...

"Now you're talking semantics...what if I told you that insane was working 50 hours a week in an office for 50 years at the end of which they tell you to pi** off. Then you spend the rest of your life in a nursing home, hoping to die before suffering the indignity of trying to make it to the toilet in time. Wouldn't you call that insane?"
An excellent point Garland makes...but I thik I have a new definition thanks to my 4 month old hobby....

Every Wednesday, I travel half an hour to wait on line for a half hour (because it's first come, first serve) at the Comedy Cellar....after getting in, I sit, have a drink (one drink min), and watch other comics tell jokes for five minutes apiece until it's my turn. I pay my 10 dollars ($5 bucks to gt onstage, one drink, tip) and take the train a half hour to go home. (by the way, a lot come in from Jersey or Conn, so they're even worse off))

Let's summarize -

Time Spent Overall - 2.5 hours
Time Spent on Stage - 5 Minutes
Time Spent not laughing at other comics on stage - 1 hour 15 minutes (I'm allowing for 10 minutes of good stuff)
Money Spent - 10 bucks (not important. but still)

That's my usual Wednesday night...

Wonder what Garland would say about that?

Rock On,


Tuesday, October 25, 2005

The Dude Sitting Next To Me Just Passed Out

So i'm doing my usual Tuesday AM thing here (i.e. finishing up football pool work, surfing the net, and writing and receiving e-mails) when I look to my left and see the Serial Killer who sits next to me is leaning back in his chair and looked white as a Patrick Swayze's character after he got shot in that movie; the one where Whoopi Goldberg got an Academy Award.

Anyway, I called out to him. "Ken?"
No response. I get up.
Not knowing what to do, with my arms flailing, I run into my bosses office.
"Vinny...come out here...something's wrong with Ken!"
By the time I get back, Steve ((dude in middle of divorce) is poking at him, while calling his name. (I'm surprised he wasn't telling him how his ex is brainwashing his daughter against him). After calling his name and receiving no response, Vinnie runs away (presumably to head of HR).
I start calling 911...of course I dial "911" first - busy - because I didn't dial "1" first - so I dial "1911" - busy signal - I panic.
"What the eff?!?" I exclaimed as I realized that I was sweating (what else is new?)
Ken comes to at this point as I continue to dial "1911" to no avail.
I asked if he wanted an ambulance. I was hoping he wouldn't want one since I couldn't get through.
Vinny comes back, explaining that the head of HR called an ambulance.
I asked what do we have to dial to get "911?"
As if I were an idiot, he said, "91911."
I am an idiot.

When we were waiting for the ambulance to arrive, he got better (he explained he gets these episodes due to vertigo), and I said, "You know, there's no reason that you cant do some work while you're waiting."
The head of HR said with disapproval, "That's not funny."

When the EMT's took him off, they asked if there's anything else to bring. I said, "He should bring his laptop so that he can do some work in the ambulance."
They all laughed.

One minute. I'm an uncaring idiot...the next, I'm a comedian.

Anyway, his vitals are fine and he's off to the hospital. So far, I've been explaining to people that I'm a hero, since I discovered his state first. So far, my cover hasn't been blown.

Rock On,


Thursday, October 13, 2005


I dunno how, but I forgot to mention this 60+ year old woman, Sandy Kane, who was one of the open mic'ers at Stand Up NY this past Tuesday.

She has her own public access show on cable

Her outfit -

Fishnet socks, up to her knees
TIGHT shocking pink jogging pants
TIGHT low cut knit sweater.
Makeup that suggests she learned makeup application At The Tammy Faye Baker Makeup Institute

If you want to see pics of her, go to sandykane.com

Her voice -

Think The Nanny combined with the nanny's mother

Her act -

Bluer than blue - in fact, she kept repeating her favorite phrase, "It's not who you know, it's who you blow."

She stopped in the middle of her set to have someone in the front row take her pic (yes, she completely stopped to pose)

Anyway, she took down several of the comic's phone numbers to perhaps have us/them appear on what I thought was her show - I signed up for a goof.

Well, she just called me - kept me on the phone for 20 minutes - I don't think it's for her show, but for another - an interview type cable access show (she did say I should bring a clip of my act with me - I should bring one of me forgetting my lines)

I tuned out at one point (I think she was babbling how she used to date Jackie Mason, whose daughter looks just like him...whatever), but I when I regained consciousness, she was telling me that she thought I was wonderful and that she hopes to be my agent.

I could only think of one thing....forget a book chapter - this is a movie...and it's writing itself.

Rock On,


Tuesday, October 4, 2005

Open Mic at The COmic Strip/Apollo

So I had what I thought was a "bringer" show on Friday eve at Comic Strip Live. I get there and the guy charges me 10 bucks (4 to perform and 6 as a drink voucher). I pay but I'm suspicious; usually at bringer shows, the comic doesn't have to pay, unlike open mics.

I walk into the room and see about 10-11 comics...all black or hispanic.
(Eventually a couple of older white comics walked in.) I immediately dumped my "wine tasting" bit from my routine...but I didn't dump enough.

I thought about bailing (I really didn't think this audience was gonna be into my "sucks working in an office" material) so I waited outside for Kim, my bud that was meeting me there. We decided that at the very least, it'll make a good story. During the show, Deeanna and her friend Mary showed as well. I apologized in advance (in fact, I offered Mary her money back after).

This 50 something year old Jewish woman sat right in front of the stage. He went on around 3rd. She brought her purse onstage so that no one would steal it. I don't remember any of her routine, just that she had lipstick all over her teeth. She spent the rest of the show eating an apple that she brought while watching the comics with what can best be described as an angry confused frown (I actually cracked up watching her more than the other comics).

Other "highlights" included...

A guy who sat there doubled over with his head in his hands during my entire act....and he was a comic. Naturally I sat stone-faced during his set.

Another older guy doing jokes about his "honeydew list" - as in "honey do this and honey, do that." Kim thought he was gonna tell us that he's on the Seafood diet. After he finished his set, the MC, this annoying short woman scolded him from the stage for leaving the mic stand in the back of the stage.

A Dominican dude who barely spoke English (I felt like I was in my Gotham Writing class). One of his jokes went like, "Who here pay rent. I no like.
It period...bloating, crampy." He came up to me after the show to tell me that I did well...or at least that's what Deeanna told me that he said. I had no idea.

As I thought, this dude who asked the crowd, "Who here lives in the projects?" got more response than I did when I asked, "Who works in an office?" Oh well...My set did "eh"...some laughs, but not nearly as much as I deserve (HA!).

Rock On,


Saturday, September 17, 2005

An Open Mic

The Harris Bloom Open Mic Tour touched down on the Upper West Side last night - here's how things went down...

Here's the deal - ya pay $5 for 5 minutes of stage time...the "crowd" (10-15 people total) is all comics waiting to get on stage - most left after they did their turn - you can imagine what a great crowd that is

Jessica at Gotham even warned me that it's tough to get a laugh at these things (partly due to comic egos - everyone thinks they're funnier than everyone else).

One comic seemed a little "slow" - I later found out that he was hit in the head a few years ago and has some brain damage

One guy said he's finally found The One - and it's himself - he then proceeded to spend five minutes about going out on a date with himself - yes, five minutes

We had the black dude talking about white people and the chick talking about how tough it is to be single (note: I wonder if I'd roll my eyes if I saw me due my Internet Dating stuff - nah! MINE is clever!)

Almost everyone brought notes up with them...one actually read his act from a notebook

I, in an effort not to repeat what happened last week, actually taped a piece of paper to my hand at work with keywords on each bit on it (dog, heat, work, etc)

when i got to the club, the paper was gone - gulp

Long story short (I know...too late) - I was up 8th - I did my whole routine...didn't forget anything...good pacing - got a couple chuckles but that was pretty much what everyone got (which was ridiculous since I was SO much better than everyone else! - Actually there was one surfer/stoner dude who was awesome...by far the best)

I have another similar thingy tomorrow at NY Comedy Club - I wonder if a few weeks of these open mics with no one laughing will affect my confidence. I guess we'll see.

Rock On,


Friday, September 16, 2005

Yesterday's Audition

So I left work at 2:30 for an audition yesterday at New York Comedy Club. If you've never been there, it's kinda like being in CBGB's in teh mid-70's... Though it sounds like a great name for a great comedy club in a great city, you'll feel like getting a tetanus shot after leaving.

Anyway, there were 5 or 6 of us waiting outside for them to open. I wondered aloud if heckling would be allowed - I mean, we WERE competing with each other for a real gig - imagine how great it would be if we were allowed one "YOU SUCK!" per comic.

Finally, we go in and are instructed to go into the #2 room (the #1 room was being used), which is rather appropriately named since it's a piece of crap. It's like performing in the middle of a subway car. Seriously, 1/2 the audience is looking at my bald spot at all times.

Funniest thing to me was how I noticed the comics - including me - watching the manager out of the corner of their eyes when someone else was on stage to see if he was laughing. The only time I saw him laughing was when he made his own joke.

As people trickled in I went on. I did okay - a little more nervous than I'd like, but I got some laughs. He took everyone's number. No call yet.

Some of my favorite auditions...

One guy's whole set was a retrospective of Wil Ferrell's career on SNL - doing one character after another (with wardrobe changes) - nothing funnier than seeing him do schtick with a white wig on and no one laughing

Another guy's CD didn't work so he did his parody song accapella...but he told us everyone once in a while that "this is where the music goes, 'Bum, dum, dum, bui DUM!"

Another guy took off his shoes before going onstage - I have no idea why - didn't figure into his set at all, but I did notice the manager staring at his feet. Personally, I would rinse my feet in Drano if they touched the floor in this place.

Things that annoy me that I can't do anything about, Part 2 (One was the Stand Up NY incident from Tuesday night) - After it was over, the guy that runs the open mic at NYCC walked over to the guy who was sitting next to me. The guy next to me is running a big show at NYU, where he hopefully will make it into a series and the comics will get paid. The open mic runner pleaded his case for being on the show to NYU guy. NYU guy ended up performing at his open mic - I found out this morning that NYU guy "won" a spot at NYCC as the best open mic'er of the evening. The winner was chosen by the guy who runs the open mic. Hmmmm

Rock On,


Wednesday, September 14, 2005

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Went to an open mic at The Comedy Cellar, a mic that I was warned was pretty brutal - was it? Read on and find out.

It was brutal (I'm not gonna string along my readers).

Big turnout, about 25 or so comics. No one laughed. Seriously. Some comics did their whole set in complete silence. A few are the type to laugh at their own jokes which just made it all the more painful to watch. Several comedians moronically commented, like, "C'mon guys, that was a good joke," as if we'd realize the error of our ways and start laughing hysterically.

One comic appeared to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. After every few poor received jokes, he said (apparently to himself), "That's okay, that's okay, just keep going." His entire act was recounting an IM conversation he had with a girl. Any word stronger than "brutal" would describe it. He kept going, "And then I said....and then she said....and then I said..." and of course, none of it was remotely humorous.

One older guy kept having to pull up his pants. If his shirt wasn't as long as it was, the evening might've been even been Uglier.

That was The Ugly.

The Bad was that I forgot a joke midway through. Thankfully, I had my noted with my onstage (as a lot of comics do) since I haven't done my "work stuff" in a while, so I just consulted them and carried on.

Also Bad (maybe Ugly) was that I went towards the end...by the time I got onstage, there were maybe 8 people there.

The Good? I got about as many laughs as anyone (not saying much). My new "Vegas stuff" is a good opener and my "job/daughter/stripper" bit got decent laughs (which means at least two people laughed).

Rock On,


P.S. Funny sidenote to my TV appearance the other evening. I had told people at the dog park to watch for it on channel 35. Bronwen went to the dog park yesterday and one older guy told her that he turned it on and saw naked women. He said he turned it off immediately but wondered if I was doing porn.
(okay, he didn't say that,...but he prolly thought it)

Life on the Z List

So last night I went to an open mic and was interviewed LIVE on a cable show - how did they go? Do you have to ask? Read on....

So I've become a bit of a regular at the Tuesday night Stand Up NY open mic; so much so that the woman who runs it calls me Monday night to see if I'm coming. The problem is that she calls me at work...at 9:30. She'd have a better chance of catching me at Marquee dancing on a table, sandwiched between Paris Hilton and Tara Reid.

Anyway, I forgot to call but do so on Tuesday, middayish. When I arrive at Stand Up, she informs me that I called too late...all the spots have been filled, but she would put me on the "alternate" list if someone doesn't show.

Now, while I understood that stuff happens, I didn't understand why she didn't call me back to let me know this. Perhaps I'm cynical, but I have a suspicion it has something to do with the fact that she wants to have alternate's. Anyway, without saying much (I'm in no position to youknowwhat anyone off...yet), I left. It's bad enough that I have to pay $5 to get onstage for these open mics, I ain't gonna sit and watch 20 comics perform not knowing whether I'm going up.

(Since I had nothing to do until later, I went to The Moth show at the Nuyorican, where I chatted for a minute with host Dan Kennedy of reallyasmalltalk.com. I almost didn't recognize him as he has grown a mustache, which he terms as "ironic" but if you ask me, he looks like he could star alongside Steve Buschemi in a Coen Brothers film. But I digress...)

Following the instructions I received from the show, I made sure that my hair, makeup and styling was already done before going. Thankfully, they also gave subway and walking instructions on how to get there (I guess not many of their guests arrive by limo or even taxi).

So I was told that even though the show starts at 11 (LIVE!), I had to be at the TV studio at 9 so that they can cut out a piece of the DVD of one of my Gotham performances as a clip for the show. So I walk in...and there are about six black people sitting in folding chairs staring at me. (Apparently that was the "green room.") For some reason I just stood there in silence until one of the women pointedly said, "Good evening."

"Ummm, hi," I replied, before finding out that I was in the right place.

Eventually I made my way back to the engineer's room. Gave him my DVD and was working with him in cutting out the clip I wanted for the show when one of the producers, a really short 50-something year old Joe Pesci sounding wannabe with his graying hair slicked back, came in and yelled, "You're supposed to bring it IN already cut!"

"Ummm, I called...they said I could bring it in as is."

"WHO said that?!?

"Ummm, Lenn Cooper?"

"Look, we have no time for this!" He instructed the engineer to start working on something else while I fought back tears.

I saw the person who got me on the show. She had seen me at StandUp NY the previous week.

"I'm sure you'll do fine,"she said, "I don't remember any of your act but I'm sure it was funny."

Thanks. Then I asked her how I looked.

"You look fine, besides, believe it or not, everyone looks better on TV. Trust me."

Anyway, at 11 the show started.

I was watching on a monitor in the green room. Some of the guests included...

- A singer who finished 4th in Star Search five years ago

- A guy who did a documentary about suicide bombers

- The host's friend (I assume) who brought newspaper clippings and read them

- A red-headed 20-something year old guy who spoke about mysticism and the wonders of smoking and eating cannabis. He had a hand written "Proud to be Poor" sign hanging off of his shirt pocket. He was insane.

- A salsa singer whose clip had him singing solo in front of a blue florescent backdrop. His voice was barely audible over the music. If Pedro from Napoleon Dynamite ever decided to sing salsa, I think he should study that performance.

- A 40-something year old stripper who's trying to make it as an agent.

The stripper told me that New York really sucked her in when she first arrived.

"It was crazy. like heroin...as soon as I got here, it was in bloodstream...I was hooked. I haven't left since."

"Where did you come from?" I asked, expecting to hear "Kansas" or perhaps "Bulgaria."

"New Jersey."

The show went on and on and on and on - finally around 12:30 AM when cannabis boy went on, I knew I was next. How? BECAUSE THERE WAS NO ONE ELSE THERE! (On the bright side, it was my first gig as a headliner).

I got on around 12:40. Interview lasted about 10 minutes, which included a clip...I have no idea if it was the right one though. I have no idea because not only couldn't I hear the clip while in the studio but when I got home to watch the tape, they musta forgotten to start taping until half way through the interview. Morons.

The host seemed intent on asking me boring questions, like asking in-depth questions about my accounting gig and whether I think companies still cook the books (when I replied, "yes," he reacted as if I told him where Hoffa is buried.) He also kept cutting me off, making sure that the spotlight was on him as much as possible (I'd prolly do the same if I were in his shoes). Overall, I did okay, though not sure the whole thing was worth getting home past 1AM.

I did get some revenge though: I stole a pen. It wasn't engraved with the show's name or anything. But it wrote well. That'll teach 'em.

Rock On,


Monday, September 5, 2005

Now Cut That Out!

If yer wonderin' how a neurotic jewish accountant type (okay, not "type" - i AM a neurotic jew accountant) acts in a doctor's office when he's got Mole Issues, read on.....

So I went for a physical a couple months ago. The doc noticed a mole around my right shoulder blade that looked "suspicious." He asked me if it had changed in appearance at all.
"How do I know? It's on my back."
"Good point. But in that case, guess we'll just have to take it out."

It took me two months, but I finally made an appointment to see the dermatologist. I saw her two weeks ago.
She looked at it and said,"Yup...gotta come off."
"Tell it to me straight doc...How long do I have?"
"You?" she said, sizing me up, "Prolly about fifty years. You're mole has two weeks. See ya then."
(Ed. note - she didn't really do or say it like that but it woulda been cool if she did...btw - her 5 minute appraisal cost me 10 bucks and Oxford 190)

So two weeks later, there i was...the nurse called my name in the waiting room and placed me in one of those cold sterile exam rooms.

The nurse came in, putting a filled needle, knife-like object, napkin-like thingy and cotton ball on a tray.
"What are those for?" I asked.
"For you."
"I don't think those are mine. I asked for spaghetti Bolognese."
"Nevermind...just a little joke." "Very little." She smiled weakly and left.

She came back with a form for me to sign.
"What's this?" I inquired as she handed it to me with a pen.
"Just a consent form."
"Oh...In case my spleen gets perforated and I start gushing blood? I guess ya want my next of kin too?"
"No, no, no - you'll be fine. It just tells you that there will be a scar and you're okay with it."
"That is unacceptable! My face is how I make a living! It cannot be scarred!"
"I thought the mole was on your back?" the nurse said, while peaking at my chart.
"It is."
"So why would your face get scarred?"
"That's what I'd like to know."
"It wont."
"Oh...well...I'll sign it, but I'm not happy about it!"
"You're too much," she said taking the form, and then left, shaking her head while smiling.

So the doc comes in and greets me, taking a look at my mole.
"I hear yer making trouble," she said.
"Moi? Has the mole changed?" I asked.
"From two weeks ago?...uhhh, no."
"Cool! Then we dont have to take it out! Right?"
"Umm, no...still comin' off...You're not scared, are ya?" she asked incredulously.
"Who? Me? Scared? Why, no...thats so funny...not funny, ha ha or anything, but funny, like 'odd'...what would make you think I'm scared?
"You seem slightly nervous...and you're back is sweating." Shocking.
"Nah, not nervous, I mean, what do I have to be nervous about?"
"You're just gonna gimmee an injection in my back."
"It'll only sting for a sec."
"Right...And then yer gonna take a knife and cut out a piece of me."
"You wont feel a thing."
"Of course...And then yer gonna put needles and thread through my skin to bind it together."
"Again. You wont feel a thing."
"Naturally...all i know is I'm getting woozy just thinkin' about it."
"Would you like to lie down?"
"No, I'm okay. If I do feel the sudden need to faint though, would you recommend backwards or forwards?"
"Maybe you better sit."
I sat down while she got the equipment for the job ready. I looked over her shoulder and saw a cotton ball soaked with a reddish liquid."
"Umm, why's that cotton ball dipped in blood?"
"That's not blood," Dr. Rabbin said laughing, "That's disinfectant. Just gonna clean the area with it."
"Oh...I thought you were re-using cotton balls."
"You really thought that?" she asked incredulously (again).
"Well, in this economy, we're all cuttin' corners."
"You're insane."
"You say that like it's a bad thing."

She instructed me to lie down and turn on my right side. My already clammy skin immediately stuck to the paper on the "operating" table. She picked up the needle. I sprung up.
"That's a, quite a..a needle ya got there."
"I swear. It won't sting but for a second."
"Well, usually when a doctor tells me somethin' wont hurt at all, it means it's gonna hurt a bit. When y'all tell me it's gonna hurt a bit, it means I better use a mouthpiece so I dont bite my tongue."
"Seriously. This wont hurt. Yesterday, I had two thirteen year old girls having this done."
"I get it. Yer tryin' to shame me into not whining....Or are you offering them to me if I shut up?"
"You are seriously insane."
"One more question before we start."
"What were they wearing?"
"Lie down...on your side."

"So, yer an accountant, huh?" she said, in an obvious attempt to take my mind off what was about to occur.
"Yup. What do you do for a living?" I asked
"Very funny. You should be a comedian."

A few seconds pass. I thought about what's goin' on behind me. The silence was painful.

"It's a good thing I have no backbone. I'd prolly be worried that you'd scrape it with the needle or knife. One less thing to worry about."
"You're doin' fiiiine," Dr. Rabbin said slowly, concentrating on her work. I felt sweat dripping down my forehead but I dared not move to wipe it...not while she had a knife in my back. I felt tugging from my back....stitches.
"Sooo, are these stitches the kind that evaporate or what?"
"You mean dissolve? No, you're gonna have to come back in two weeks to have them removed."
"Super." I slightly lifted my head in a futile attempt to create some separation with the paper...my head was glued to it with sweat.

"All done," Doc said, "Sit up for a few minutes. I'll be back." I peeled myself off the paper. She turned on the fan, directed it at me, took my mole (I assume) and left.

She came back with "care instructions" and told me to make an appointment for two weeks to get them removed. She shook my hand and turned to go.
"I actually do have one question for ya."
"Is there any way to get the mole back from the lab after they're done testin' it?"
"That's a new one. Umm, no, I don't think so. Why would you want it?"
"Well, I'm gonna be a famous writer pretty soon, so I thought I might be able to sign it and sell it on Ebay."
"You're absolutely insane. Seeya in two weeks."

Rock On,


Monday, August 22, 2005

Scraping the Bottom of the Taco

(This one's too funny) -

Thanks to my dog's poor sleeping habits, I hadn't slept much this past week, so I decided to skip the open mic Friday that I was planning on attending, sit at home and watch the Mets. However, my "eh" show at NY Comedy Club on Thursday left a sour taste in my mouth, so I made the last second call to refresh my mouth with a trip to Maui Taco's (?).

Located on 5th Avenue btwn 32nd and 33rd, Maui Taco's in a two floor fast food taco place with a bar. I walked downstairs - as the bartender instructed - to greet the six or seven comics sitting around, eating tacos. There was one other table with about six people.

Long story short, we started the show, the MC talks to the only patrons there, asking them where they are from. In heavy accents, they replied...


"Wow, that's weird," she said, "And I assume you're all together." They looked at each other before nodding. "So what brings you here?"
Again, they looked at each other before the MC simplified it.
"Why did you come to Maui Tacos?"
Someone spoke. "We take Engrish crass next door at Empire State."

So, yeah, we started performing for the six tourists who didn't know English. Actually, only the first comic did, since they got up and left after he was finished.
It was worth it though just to watch their faces as the 55 year old comic joked that to him safe sex means "having a defribulator handy." They all sheepishly looked at each other, shrugging their shoulders as if he was speaking a foreign language. Good times.

I made it through my set without any miscues...though man, these open mics are tough...very few laughs...I have to admit, even though I was warned about this, my confidence is slowly eroding.

We'll see...

Rock On,


Monday, August 8, 2005

How'd My Second SHow Go? Not So Good

You know that nightmare some of you may have where you're onstage or in a boardroom, or wherever, and you're unable to speak while dozens of people watch you sweat and stammer?

Well, I had that nightmare Saturday night.

Except I wasn't sleeping.

I was onstage.

Yup, IT happened. Every comic's worst fear (no, not being hit on by Roseanne) was realized when one minute into my set, I froze. Totally incapable to remembering any of the rest of my act, I stood there for at least a minute and a half, trying to say something (anything!) while also trying to remember something (anything!) from my act.

I say "at least" a minute and a half, because I could've sworn it was four hours, but others present claim it was a minute. I have yet to view the tape because my VCR is broken (just not my weekend), but that's probably for the best as I could've seen me sitting on the floor all day Sunday, with my knees on my chest, rocking back and forth.

The ironic thing is that one of the producers told me that since I brought so many people that I was able to spend more time than normal on stage. If I were on any longer than I was, I may've electrocuted myself with the sweat that was dripping onto my microphone.

Everyone afterwards (friends and comics) told me afterwards how I recovered so well, but in truth, I would've had to walk off the stage if it weren't for Bronwen, who started shouting out my own bits to me.
"Where do you work?"
"Do you have a dog?"

I'm serious. (Thanks Bronwen.)

Even then, I was so flustered that I ran through them as if there was a buffet waiting me backstage.

The only person laughing during my set was my bro, and that was when I went blank. In fact, I don't think he was happier when his own baby was born. It was like the penultimate scene from Carrie. After the show, he took my tape from me for safekeeping, till I assumed him I wouldn't him it.

After going out to celebrate, I went home to cry myself to sleep. I woke up the next day to the sounds of my own screaming.

So anyway, thanks to all that came (all 28 - jeez!) of you...and I know you'll all disappointed (esp Rich) when I say this, but that's all for me. If it were fun, I'd do it again, but my extreme nervousness (including, but not limited to, shortness of breath, tingling sensation in my back, frozen extremities, profuse sweating, etc) makes it dumb and even perhaps detrimental to my health to continue.

If you'll excuse me, I've got some spreadsheets to fill with numbers.

Rock On,


Monday, July 11, 2005

As Well As I Coulda Hoped For...

I assume those that couldn't make it haven't been sleeping in eager anticipation of hearing how my stand-up debut (and finale?) went so here goes...

Since I wanted to check out the room and all before the big night, Bronwen and I went on Friday night. A few comments...

1. The stage was much smaller than I recalled...Since I paced over a much larger swath when rehearsing, I was afraid I might actually fall off the stage if I spaced out trying to remember my routine.

2. The room fit about 150 people...there were 20 in attendance - super

3. The third comic up was retarded...no, literally! Okay, actually he gad cerebral palsy (one of first jokes was "People used to look at me like I was wearing a helmet at all times...then I realized, I was!" - that was my fave joke of the night) - His voice kept going in and out as he only ha use of one arm to hold the mic, and it constantly swayed back and forth...He brought back fond memories of The Facts of Life.

4. The seventh comic (or eighth..or ninth..whatever) was introduced as "The Best Triangle Player in New York" - and yes, he spent seven minutes playing his triangle - he did half of Kiss's "I Wanna Rock and Roll All Night" and 1/2 the way though "Light My Fire," he actually pulled a kazoo out of his arm (musta been taped there) with his mouth, and finished it playing the kazoo and the triangle - he wasn't bad actually - I liked watching the crowd's bemusement

All in all, it made me slightly less nervous (for a minute).

Then it was Saturday.

I awoke at about 6:45. As soon as my eyes were half opened, that was it. No more sleep for me.

My day was spent...ahhh, screw it....

Notes from The Show

The "comics" were herded downstairs. One of the Gotham employees explained to us that they'll come up with the lineup AFTER THE SHOW STARTED.

Say what?

I assume they were waiting for others to show, but I REALLY woulda liked to have known when I was going on, ya know? Anyway, she tells us that at the six minute mark, a red light goes on in the back - that means ya got one minute to finish up...at seven minutes, the light will flash...that means "Get off IMMEDIATELY" - she was quite stern about it and even mentioned that the MC will come out and embarrass you. Naturally, I panicked and cut out a few jokes right there...which only made me more nervous because I had to remember not to do them.

After she went upstairs there were about seven of us there (there were about 12 comics on the card)...all silent. If they were like me, they were trying to remember the first line of their act. After a few minutes, I spoke up.
"Anyone know any good jokes?"

I talked to a few guys...i was the only first timer going - btw - they also had all taken stand-up classes. ack!

When the show started, I went upstairs to see when I was going on....seventh. They had a few tables in the back, for us comedians to watch from - I sat for a second (about 50 people there...of which 25 were for me) but couldn't sit still, and walked out to pace some more by the bar.

After his third or fourth time out. the MC came back and complained , "Man, this crowd is brutal." He actually sounded pretty pee'ed off. I expected everyone to look at me (It was common knowledge that everyone was there to see me (succeed or fail miserably).

I was introduced thusly..."Now we have a special treat for you...making his FIRST EVER stand-up appearance, let's give a warm welcome for HARRIS BLOOM!"

walking up on stage, I fainted

just kiddin' - I did alright - other comics said that if they didn't know it was my first time ever, they wouldn't have known. I can't say that I remember anything while onstage, since it's all a blur. I was never comfortable, but I also dont think I was panic stricken either. While I sweated profusely, I was never even close to vomiting (or passing out).

Of course, after I was finished I couldn't get the mic on the stand and ended up having to just hand it to the MC...I also forgot to take my water that I brought up (which stayed there for two more comics).

I got me an Amstel Light (performers get a free drink) and watched the rest of the show (seated). My fave part was one comic who used a slang for rooster and the male organ (I dont want this e-mail to get stopped) at least 10 times in a 30 second span. My mom was sitting with my bro, his wife and our friend Vic. While the joke wasn't that funny, but watching my mom shake her head with disapproval was. Sherry, Rich and Vic were doubled over.

Backstage, I asked one of the organizers how many of these I have to do before getting a sitcom - without missing a beat, she replied, "Three."

At the Afterparty, my mom, aka, Ms. You Can Do Anything You Can Put Your Mind To, confessed that a couple of people from her office wanted to come but she didn't want them to, "in case I bombed."

Thanks to Mom, Rich, Sherry, Bronwen, Vic, Rob, Jennifer, Jennifer's friend, Deeanna, Deeanna's friend, Ann, Stone, Stone's niece, Matty (Wooo!), Matty's girlfriend, Kim, Amanda, Shirley, Luis, Patty, Gary, Ed, Ed's friend, Mike, and Stacey for all coming.

Next show will be in a month or so if anyone cares - 1/2 new material - and I dont care if you didn't like the homeless joke, it's staying!

Thanks everybody...You've been great!

Rock On,


Friday, July 8, 2005

Counting Down to Standing Up - Part 5

First of all, since I woke up on Thursday, my palms have been sweaty and I've been shaking like an autumn leaf. Either I'm in panic mode...or I've got pneumonia. In fact, I'm writing this final "progress" report on Thursday because I'm afraid that I'll be catatonic by today...and only able to press

(writing this Friday - my "rehearsal" last night went so poorly, I may take a half day today to do it aloud more - it's a totally different ballgame than repeating it to myself))

A few thoughts...

After hearing how many of y'all are attending, I have come up with an idea....instead of doing my lil act at Gotham, maybe I can do it in the "Party Room" at my apartment building - Instead of spending the probably $30 bucks (cover + two drinks) per person that will only go the club, I'll charge you each $20 bucks, and I'll supply all the Diet Coke you can drink - its a win/win for all

When the person in charge called me to confirm my appearance, she told me to bring a VHS tape so they can record it for me - like it isn't bad enough that I'm not getting paid to bring in all you people, but I have to pay for my own recording...rats!

If anyone knows a bar near Gotham we can hang out at and laugh at how I totally spaced for an excruciatingly long ten seconds lemmee know - or think about it

Finally, I'm asking you guys for a few favors as it pertains to the show...

If I happen to make a joke about my mom not being there, don't yell, "What do you mean,,,she's right here!"
If I happen to mention that I recently got a dog, don't yell, "Stewie!"
If you get hit with sweat, saliva, or vomit during my act, please don't make a big deal about it - I'll reimburse you for your dry-cleaning after
In fact, if I happen to say or do ANYTHING don't respond at all (besides with unbridled laughter and applause) since it'll throw me off my carefully memorized script.
This is mainly for my mom (even though she doesn't have Internet access) - If other people are talking during my set, don't angrily "shhh" them and start an argument. (Also for my mom) And don't call over the waitress to complain. (Ditto) And don't tell the unhelpful waitress that you want to speak to management.

Until Manana (gulp),


Tuesday, July 5, 2005

Counting Down to Standing Up - Part 4

In the old daze, whenever I saw someone talking to themselves in the street, I thought they were crazy...then, a few years ago, they invented those hands-free cell phones, so I assumed they were talking to someone else. Now, I assume they may be practicing for their first-ever standup routine - or maybe that's just me

So I made reservations to attend Gotham's New Talent Night as a spectator on Friday night -Though I'd been there before, I wanna re-check out the "lay of the land" so I can judge the best possible places to put my props when I'm on - you know, the watermelons, the monkeys, the guitar, the unicycle and the bread maker

btw - it's THIS SATURDAY NIGHT, so if ya haven't made resies, do so now (212-367-9000) - make sure ya tell 'em you're there for me

by the way, if you're planning on gettting there early to sit in the first few rows, you may wanna bring a pancho - my guess is you're bound to be hit with some combination of watermelon, sweat, and vomit.

Rock On,


Friday, June 24, 2005

Counting Down to Standing Up - Part 3

Remember when I tried to go on Blind Date and I was so nervous once the camera was turned on that I actually forgot my name? Well, for the last few daze, I can't seem to remember the first line of my act without looking at it in writing.

I'm also worried that since I'm practicing with a pencil instead of a microphone, I wonder if I can actually electrocute myself with my own sweat. Man, would that be an embarrassing way to go, or what?

Rehearsing the same lines over and over again into a pencil has proved exhausting. Seriously. After pacing around my desk at work, silently repeating my set all day, I rehearse in front of a live audience at home. Stewie, my dog, doesn't seem to get most of my jokes, but the ones he does like, he really likes. By 9 PM, I can barely keep my eyes open.

So what I'm tryin' to say here is, if you wanna be able to say, "You remember that time you actually vomited on stage?" - you really ought to come out on July 9th...since like Rocky once said - There aint gonna be a second show - (Okay, he said "rematch," but you get the idea).

Anyway, I called Jessica (again) the host, to confirm my slot and to ask her how will I know when my 7 minutes are up.

"At six minutes, you'll see a light flash," she said.
"Really? Will it be blinding?"
"Umm, no, I don't think so."
"What color will it be?"
"But won't I see white light anyway?"
"Yeah, but this will be flashing."
"What if I'm not looking forward?"
"Don't worry...you'll see it."
"So then I get a minute, right?"
"Is there any other warning?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, like, another, maybe differently colored light flashing at the 30 second mark."
"Ummm, no."
"Can you have one for me?"

Anyway - make reservations - it's for the New Talent 6:30 show, Saturday July 9th

Rock On,


Monday, June 20, 2005

Counting Down to Standing Up - Part 2

So Saturday morning I realized that I wasn't nervous about my upcoming gig.
It took me about five minutes to realize that I wasn't nervous because one doesn't realize when one is not nervous, only when one is. It probably would've taken longer except for the fact that I think about the gig every few minutes of my waking existence.
But I knew that I wasn't nervous.
To be honest, it scared me.
Why wasn't I nervous?
I should be.
I couldn't even memorize my first joke (true). And after reading it 75,000 times, it wasn't even funny anymore.
And yet, I wasn't nervous.
But why?
The more I thought about it, the more I wondered, "Why?"
I mean, nothing about me's changed.
Friday, I was actually stumbling just telling someone at the dog park about my gig.
Soon, I had this feeling of impending doom, probably what Wile E. Coyote senses, when he's looking at the camera as the shadow of a huge boulder becomes larger and larger, just before he looks up.
My lack of nerves unnerved me.
What if I didn't prepare enough because I didn't fear failure?
How can I be so blase just three weeks from a potentially sweat-drenched humiliation?
What's teh heck's going on here?
A minute later, I felt a tingling sensation in my neck - a common psychosomatic ailment of mine.
Much better.

Confidence Builder #1

So I read what I thought was gonna be my "act" to Bronwen. After finishing, I asked her what she thought.
She replied, "I have a headache."

Confidence Builder #2

"Are any of your friends coming?" I asked Bronwen.
"Yeah, I asked a few. I know Julie's coming."
"Cool, you told her that she has to laugh, right?"
"You don't have to worry about that," Bronwen answered, "Julie laughs at everything!"

Confidence Builder #3

After telling my mom a few jokes over lunch, she said, "That sounds good, and even if you don't do well, don't be discouraged, a lot of comics do poorly their first time out."

Rock On,


Friday, June 10, 2005

Counting Down to Standing Up

Quick progress report on my attempt to get on stage and tell jokes to people that I don't know on july 9th -

When I called the New Talent person to announce that I will indeed be performing on July 9th, she said, "Okay, you really didn't have to tell me this soon but...okay."

I told her that I know that I need to bring four people, but I should have more - in fact, I asked, "Do i have to get a headcount for you?"
"Well," she replied, "they can make reservations through the regular number...but I don't even think they take reservations for that date this early."
"Oh, okay, well maybe I should call back every day to see which day they will take reservations - I wouldn't want anyone to miss out."

That last line was a joke

New Gimmicks that I have already Shelved...

1. Berate the audience for not laughing - Insist that I am much funnier than the previous two "losers" - throw grapes at them if necessary

2. Do the whole act as an impression of Chris Rock, including using his material - I figured, hey, if they laugh at him doing it, why not me?

3. Bring Stewie on stage, and perform the whole act with me holding a biscuit over my head as he constantly jumps on me to reach it - end the show when he quits and starts whimpering

I am still a month away and I cant sit still much less sleep, my stool is loose and I'm suffering from mild TMJ pain - by the time this thing happens, someone's gonna have to roll me out in a wheelchair and i'll tell the jokes through a computer like Stephen Hawkings (you know, the guy from The Simpsons)

Rock On,


Tuesday, April 5, 2005

Quick Mom Story

Through her job, my mom met Donna Murphy, two time Tony Award Winner for Leading Lady in a Musical and now star of Wonderful Town - she hasn't been in touch with her for a few years, but when Wonderful Town opened, my mom called to wish her well. She wasn't able to speak to Donna (only got her assistant) on the phone, which my mom figured was because she was so busy.

When my mom got tickets to see the show, she made arrangements, with Donna's assistant, to go back to the dressing room after to visit. Fine.

However, since the show was so long, my mom didn't wanna wait and get home after dark so she just left.

I just got a call from my mom. The conversation went like this...

"Do you wanna hear what an impression I leave?"
"Not really."
"Well, you know how I was sposed to see Donna after the show?"
"Umm, yeah, I was there."
"Okay, well, I just got a call from Donna Murphy's assistant. telling me that Donna was worried when I didn't show."
"Umm, okay."
"See how people, even famous and busy people like Donna are concerned about me?"
"Why are you laughing?"
"No reason."
"Well,stop it."
"Okay, tell me, why are you laughing?"
"Donna was so concerned that she told her assistant to call? Are her nails permanently drying?"
"Well, she's just busy. You wanna hear something else?"
"Her assistant left a number for me to call...it was Donna's HOME number."
"Go ahead, make fun. I just assumed it was the assistant's number."
"Her home number?"
"No, you idiot. Her office number."
"Stop laughing. That's it. I'm hanging up."

Thursday, March 17, 2005

A Night in Atlantic City

Went Saturday morning - Rob picked me and Aussie Rich us up at the ferry in Weeeeeeeehauken (I have to say it like that...same with Seeeeecaucus!) in his brand spankin' new Audi TT. Now, I dont know if any of you know what this car looks like,
but it is for all intents and purposes a two-seater (unless you have a
couple of friends with no legs). David Blaine could do a special with him
trying to get in and out of this thing. After making a meager attempt to
get in the back seat, Aussie says there's no way we can do it, and he's
going home (he did manage to get in but was situated so uncomfortably that
I almost threw up laughing). I volunteered to try after actually having to
help him get out. Using Rob's advice of going in butt first, I managed to
squeeze my way in, and though far from comfy, I took one for team. (Very
selfish of Rob by the way to not think of me when buying his Mid-life
Crisis car.)

ANYWAY, We got down there and checked in to our hotel which should be called The Last
Hotel on The Left (raise your hand if you know the movie). It really is
the last hotel on the left and away from all the action, well, the casino
action at least. While we are there a cop car rides up and when the cops
enter, the desk chick sez, "Hi Randy, room 1606." Now, it's bad enuf that
they had to call the cops for something but as Rob says, its even worse
that she's on a first name basis with them. I half expected to have to
walk around a chalk outline to enter our room (if we were in room 217 or
237, I woulda been outta there - raise your hand part two). The room was
fine and there was no other hotel drama.

We got to the Taj Mahal around 2:30 and immediately sit down at a black
jack table. A couple of observations off the bat. One, the economy must
be killing these casinos as there was no problem getting a $10 table (and
it stayed like that for hours eventually moving to 15 and then 25). Two,
there are no caucasian dealers there. All asian males. Three, A/C does
NOT get a good looking crowd. Not only is it ugly but it's very white
trash. A mullet hunter would have a field day there. We ended up sitting
there till 10:00 (I got up once to hit the restroom). We started drinking
as soon as we sat down (Bloody Mary for me). In fact, we were drinking so much that
the waitress not only kept bringing us more drinks before we asked but she
brought us any drinks that she had gotten for others who musta left the
table (Vodka and Cranberries, Malibu whatchamacallit's, etc) . Hammered quickly, we went into Obnoxious Drunken New Yawker mode (Note to Brian: If ya ever film a movie and need a few extras who will be in credits as "Morons Playing Blackjack #1,2, and 3 you know where to look...esp if it's a skin flick). One dealer was named Soe (who I'm still not sure spoke any English...none of the dealers did...or maybe they did
but didn't wanna encourage us) who had to endure me yelling "Say it aint
So!!" after every poor hand and Aussie singing "Sew...a needle pulling
threeeead". He didn't even seem to appreciate my attempt at small talk,
like when I asked him what he does for a living. We kept bugging the pit
dude to hook us up with some comps since we were playing soe long (i
believe the exact words were, "C'mon Dennis...throw us a free
burga...that's all we're askin' fer!" repeated seven hundred
times...yup...we're pathetic). Though we started off poorly (was down more
than $200 fairly quickly) we rallied and in fact went on a fairly extended
good run where the dealer got very few blackjack's and in fact, busted a
lot when he was sposed to. Whenever the dealer had a "busting hand" (i.e.
3,4,5,6) we were yelling, "TEN!! TEN!!! TEN!!!" and it seems like more
often than not, it worked out (I may write a book on this method). Rob and
I ended up there up about $400 on the day. Aussie was not as fortunate as
he gave up on BJ and moved onto roulette where he lost more (question for
y'all - What's more annoying than someone at your table who HITS on a hard
SEVENTEEN as Aussie did...twice? Answer: Someone who HITS on a hard
SEVENTEEN twice and gets a three and a four - I woulda said, "I too, like
to live dangerously" - movie?). Another funny part of out table (at least
to us) was how due to the fact we were doing well, Rob and I were trying to
chase away any new players by claiming the table sucks or how hot the
dealer was whenever new blood walked by - I recall at least one person not
sitting down and even funnier, noone else appeard to win dough but us and
one Eeeenormous chick sitting there with us. This chick by the way came
down by herself (I think she ate her friends) and since we were rather
drunk and in a good mood, invited her to the dinner buffet
(mmmm...buffet...mmmm) we went to armed with comps.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, ya just can't beat a buffet
(mmmm...buffet...mmmm). Though I really wasn't that hungry (by this time I
was drunk and my voice was bad and my throat was scratchy from laughing and
yelling), I ate my fair share...and a couple other peoples. After the
buffet (mmmm...buffet...mmmmm), my companions wanted to hit a strip club
(personally I was ready to hit the sheets for a few hours and then get up
and play some more as I was kinda nautious). We ditch the chick and head
to a Bikini Club - we thought we were going to a topless place but they
never even took off their tops! Some fairly hot chicks though they looked
about as interested in it as the backup players in those old Robert Palmer
videos looked.

Got up fairly early - checked out - drove back to the Taj - had the
Breakfast Buffet (mmmm...buffet...mmmm) - and hit the tables - Rob and I
played more BJ (both down a little) and then joined Aussie at Roulette
since he was doing well and we thought we'd ruin it. I dont like the wheel
but played a bit cause Rob and Aussie were doing well - I was breaking even
until I remembered the immortal words of Richard Bloom and Wesley
Snipes..."Always bet on Black" so I placed one last fidy dollas on
black...and lost. Aussie made up for his losses from Saturday and Rob
made more money by listening to me (i'm still awaiting my share). He's
never played before and asks what numbers to play...I'm a Piazza man so I
say 31 and then realizing he's a Yankee fan, I tell him to play 22 for that
bleep Clemens. First ball ends up whereever...second 22!...third 22
again!!! Ya just can't beat that. We then went for a stroll on the
boardwalk arm in arm in arm (ok, they refused) We tried the "Make a Basket" game which resulted in one fo the most pathetic exhibitions of free throw shooting (and I use that term loosely) that I've ever seen. I threw up an airball (i was on target though... I WAS!!!) - Rob clanked it against the backboard not touching rim either and Aussie hit the top of the backboard, also hitting the "prizes" above it and it flew right back in his hands....pathetic doesn't describe it.

I saw some great outfits in a window and suggested that to fit in more we
all buy a velvet jumpsuit and a couple of chains to wear to the casino next
time (it's funny when you picture it)

Rob then drove us back to Weeeeehauken where we got the ferry and subwayed
it home, as I had no money for a cab.

Rock On,