James, Danielle and I go to Mainstage. Travis Simmons has a show on Tuesdays now and we're not sure if it's an open mic or what so we show up. James has been jonesing to do more stand-up since he popped his cherry. We go. Travis doesn't have a list he's just bringing people up out of the crowd. There's a small audience there and the show opens with a conversation between him and a Canadian lady breaking down the five important questions for a woman to ask a man before performing oral sex. It's then decided to be a dirty night. Travis does his dirty material. Everyone else does too. Danielle does her "vagina" bit (really funny by the way). She kills. I go up. I do the new porn bit. Makes people laugh/uncomfortable. Then I do the new and improved neuva ring bit with "miscarriage closer". Wow. The power of horror. It's such a rude bit that people can't help but react to it and it ranges from disgust to gut laughter. I'm starting to get addicted to that reaction and that could take my comedy down some dark corridors where no jobs shall be. This opens up the question of what do I want? Jobs or personal satisfaction. Well, so far my answer has always erred to creating the work I want to, so I should buck up for a career of being notorious and not paid.
The only tragedy of the night is that James didn't get to go up. He ran some new stuff past us and it sounded good. He'll be up soon.
P.S. Got a gig in Centrailia thanks to Danielle. My first road gig. You'll here more soon.
Lesson: Dirty crowds still have a limit
Backup lesson: If I'm going to martyr myself, I better come up with a good excuse.
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1 comment:
From the audience, the "miscarriage closer" sounded like it went over a little better than what you heard.
Oh, course, that may have been the sound of myself, James, and the comics next to us fucking DIEING of laughter.
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