Monday, October 30, 2006

To My Neighbor in 3B - A Haiku

I really don't care
Get as drunk as you want but,
dont shit in the hall

Rock On,


Monday, October 23, 2006

The Hits Just Keep On Comin!

So on Saturday at 5 PM, The Comedy Village has an open mic where the comic judged the best gets a spot on their 8:30 PM pro show. Cool, huh? I have never gone before because, well, it's Saturday at 5 PM...not the greatest time to hang out for two hours watching a bunch of open micers. And because if I won, I would have to clear any Saturday night plans for my spot.

Anyway, I went this week because, well, I had nothing better to do.

There were only about 12-13 comics there...none very experienced (I'm being kind). So I won.

It was about 6:30 at the time. What to do till 8:30? Not enough time to go home and go I went to another open mic at a bar that was around the corner. It was just finishing up but I got to go and performed my lil act in front of the four comics that remained. Good times. It was 7 PM.

I got a coffee and strolled around the village, checking my watch every two minutes. Eventually, 8:30 came. I went into the club...watched about two-thirds the show, and then asked the manager when I'm going up. He said in a couple more comics...I was psyched the the crowd was really hot - laughing at a couple more comics go - I'm checking my watch, getting a lil worried, thinking, hmmm, they're running out of time...eventually, the manager comes up to me...

"Bad news, Mike Epps came in so we don't have time for you tonight. You can either come back tomorrow night or next Saturday night."


Friday, October 20, 2006

The Author Posts Another Blog Entry...

As those of who have bothered to read my stories published on the Internets know, there is a "contact the author" in my bio on the bottom to contact me if anyone so desires.

This weekend I got two. Both were "fans" of my stuff (I was a little worried before I read) I am happy to report and interestingly enough, they found me on different sites.

Granted, one fan sounded about 15, but it's her kinda grass root support that will undoubtedly catapult my name in the echelon of writers in history. At least she didn't write "lol" at all.

The other fan is an author of several short story collections, a man who has a column on one of my favorite sites (McSweeney's), a teacher at local universities in Florida and is even running for Congress.

Well, let me tell say that I was difficult to live with yesterday is a bit of an understatement - here's a sample of dialogue between my girlfriend and myself on way home from Central Park -

Her - What should we eat tonite?
The Author - The author thinks pasta
Her - Oh brother
The Author - Hey, don't be all jealous cause YOU don't get fan letters
Her - you're an idiot

here's another as we lounged on the sofa -

Her - What's the weather gonna be tomorrow
The Author - The author senses rain
Her - You're an idiot

Anyway, our evening basically went like that - a lot of playa-hatin', a lot of eye-rollin', etc

I decided to check out the dude's website - i found a few interesting nuggets...

1. When running a few years ago, he came out in support for reparations for slavery
2. he ran once while advocating giving horses the right to vote (he pledged to vote "neigh" on every issue) - he got 26% of the vote btw
3. in 1984 when he ran for president (yes, THE president) , he wanted to move the nation's capital to Davenport, Iowa, make El Salvador the nation's 51st state, and have Jane Wyman as his running mate since she has experience in dumping Ronald Reagan.

So doing a straw poll (whatever that is), it appears my fanbase consists of 15 year old girls (at least I hope she's 15, she certainly writes like it) and the insane.

Rock On,


Wednesday, October 18, 2006

I Hate to Sound Like Everyone Else but....

So I went to this open mic competition at Sal's Comedy Hole last night. Actually, I thought it was an open mic type competition but someone told me that they have ringers in the finals (Ted Alexandro won last year).

Anyway, I hate to sound like everyone else but, the other comics were pretty bad. A couple were worth noting...

One guy came up to the stage wearing a cloth sack over his head with the eyes and mouth cut out. He had buttons sewn onto it and wearing a headband. Tucked into the headband were limp corn husks, which dangled around his head. He stomped on the stage and in a loud and extremely hoarse voice declared himself an alien that came here around the time of the Incas (or the Mayans, I forget, but does it really matter?). He took out a chocolate bar, claimed to have invented it and started eating it. He announced his intention to sing "The Chocolate Song," imploring us to sing along if we knew the words.
He started to stomp on stage while chanting "Chocolate!" every so often (I knew the words after one refrain). When not staring at him in shock, the other comics were glancing at each other with an "Is this fo' real?" look. time you see me, ask for an impression...the dude who sits next to me cracks up every time I do it (and I've already done it 30 times this morning).

This other dude gets up...I know him from the scene. He's been at it for like 4 years or so - not passed at any major clubs, but he's generally somewhat funny. Weird guy though, sometimes he's cool, sometimes he's a ...well, not cool. Last night? Not cool.
After a couple of his jokes are met with blank faces (it's a freaking open mic, what does he expect?), he started berating the other comics.
"How dare you unfunny muthafuckers stare at me!"
"How many people come to see YOU perform?"
"This is have no idea how funny this is...YOU people staring at ME! This is a joke!"
"I don't why I do this shit!"

He went on for like half his allotted five minutes...just berating the crowd of comics for not laughing at his jokes. Couple of things here - 1) You'd think that having done this for several years he'd be used to the open mic scene. It's miserable, but whatever...we do it to get comfortable on stage. 2) If he was really good, he wouldn't have to do open mics...methinks someone's really just angry for not being funny enough, and best of all (to me) 3) After his harangue, he continued to tell some jokes...and the comics laughed! some self-respect. I don't laugh anyway, but if I was a laugher, there's NO WAY I'd let him intimidate me into laughing for him. Yes, it actually pissed me off that people started laughing for him.

Long story short (I know, too late), the MC, this really young, absolutely atrocious "comic" (he prefaced every joke he told with "I know this jokes no good, but I'm gonna tell it anyway" - at least he warned us)...he was the judge to pick the finalists. He picked two guys who worked at the club, one guy who was really funny, and one guy who MUSTA been a regular at their open mic cause I have no idea why he was selected. Absolutely brutal.

And to top the evening off, the rain soaked my pants...yes, the very pants I was bringing into the cleaners. Nevermind.

Rock On,


Thursday, October 12, 2006

Hot Yoga

So last night, instead of watching the World Series, I contorted my body into a variety of poses for 90 minutes while in heat that approximated 110 degrees (and I'm not exaggerating). That's what Bikram Yoga is (well, except for the missing the World Series part).

You know how every five years or so scientists change their mind about whether certain items are good for know, things like coffee, dark chocolate, and Woody Allen movies? Well, I wish there were odds I can get that one day a study will announce that Bikram Yoga should be avoided at all costs. In fact, I think the press release will read something like, "We have no idea why anyone thought that standing on one leg while twisting your arms and legs into a a room where temperatures approach 110 degree was good for you, but thanks to this study, it's been confirmed. It's not. Not at all...Serious damage to your heart brain, liver, kidney's, sweat glands and spleen may occur. That is all."

So I started sweated after three minutes. Within ten minutes my face was red, after twenty it was purple and after a half-hour, my skin was bubbling. Several of the poses I couldn't do under normal circumstances, nevermind having to concentrate while sweat burned my eyes.

As we moved into a pose, the instructor (about 5'5" 120 pounds) announced it by name. Here are some of them...
Dandayamana Bibhaktapada Paschimottanasana
Arda Chandrasana Padahastasana

ok..two is enough - I felt like saying "bless you" each time but it didn't seem like the type of crowd that would get, or appreciate it - besides, I had to save my strength.

After class, while still dripping (in fact, I'm still sweating), I asked the instructor how many times one should do it a week to get a benefit out of it.
He replied, "Good question!" and then he thoughtfully continued, I'd say five times."
I laughed. When I noticed that he wasn't even smiling, I stopped.

I'm fairly certain that this Yoga is prohibited under the Geneva Convention and if it isn't, it should be.

Rock On,