Stuff

-There are three kinds of comedies being made now. There are good ones. And there are movies with all white people, in which any black character is an over-the-top stereotype, and there are movies with all black people, in which any white character is an over-the-top stereotype. These movies suck. I don’t care that they suck since I don’t watch them, but the trailers are really annoying. Every trailer for a “white comedy” features Ashton Kutcher, or someone like that, falling down multiple times… hitting his head on something… getting hit by a baseball… running after his girlfriend and slipping on something. It’s always some stupid physical gimmick. And the “black comedies” always have use weird catch phrases. Someone will walk out of a store carrying stuff in his hands, Steve Harvey looks at him and says, “Ain’t you gonna put that in a bag?” Then it cuts to a woman in short shorts, whose legs are glistening for some reason, and they both say, “DAAAAMMMMNNNN” in unison, then the other guy says, “I’d like to put that in a bag.” Then they do the handshake du jour. I’m not a fan. Also, the white guy in the “black comedy” would say things like “handshake du jour”.

-My insurance company is Kaiser Permanente. If you’re looking for a healthcare provider, look elsewhere. I feel like it’s my duty to let people know about this. When I tore ligaments in my ankle a few weeks ago, the doctor said she thought I had between one and three breaks, and would let me know in about 10 days. That actually happened. They could have just looked at the x-ray then, but for some reason they thought a 10 day waiting period would make more sense. Also, I ordered a new batch of contacts two months ago, and requested a free pair because my last batch contained a torn lens. The girl asked which one was torn, then said she would replace that one. One contact isn’t going to do me any good. I’m not a pirate. Anyway, two months have passed and I still haven’t received my contacts. Why? They said they are backordered. How do you run out of contacts if you’re a company that only makes contacts? You don’t. It’s ridiculous. It has been two whole months. The world could throw away all of its contacts, destroy all technology used to make contacts, and kill every person who knew about contacts, and still manage to reinvent them from scratch in less than six weeks. But, apparently my minor stigmatism is throwing them for a loop.

-Here’s a joke my friend told me that I don’t understand. “What do football and Star Trek have in common? The neutral zone.”

See? No one gets it. Why? Because people who like football think Star Trek is stupid and people who like Star Trek are too busy organizing their fanny packs to watch football.

-I saw one of those $10 budget commercials last night for a company called “Loan Max.” It was for people who need a loan but have bad credit. Cool. It’s a product that should sell itself. But they didn’t think so. Instead of the service selling itself, they decided to get Al Sharpton to sell the service. That’s right. Al Sharpton. In a commercial that was shot in someone’s basement. The problem was that when you’re watching, you’re so shocked that Al Sharpton is in the commercial that you spend the rest of the time the commercial is on calling your friends to tell them to turn to channel 61 because Al Sharpton is doing a commercial in someone’s basement instead of going to their website or calling them. This was a poorly written paragraph.

-Today I was doing my monthly ritual of Googleing myself. I came upon a couple quotes that I liked.

This is from the Washington Post: DC'S YOUNG BUCKS OF COMEDY -- Today at 7:30 p.m. Stand-up from local comics Sampson, Keith "The Comedian" Dent, Ryan Conner (who doesn't believe in pirates) and Seaton Smith. DCAC, 2438 18th St. NW. $10. 202-462-7833..

I like that they referenced one of my jokes in the Post. But at the same time, I hate doing that joke. Come on Post, pick a joke that I like. How about Ryan Conner (who doesn’t sell tacos out of his driveway)?

This one is from some other website: Ryan Conner has a pair of beautiful wide hips that give way to a plump juicy ...

Honestly, I don’t know if that was about me or Ryan Conner the porn star ( www.ryanconner.com ), but I’ll take what I can get.

The Bureau @ UMD

If you go to UMD -College Park, check out one of the following shows by The Bureau. They are an on-campus comedy troup. I've never seen them perform as a troup, but I've seen a couple of the guys, Matt and Matt, do stand up and they are funny. Seriously, check out these shows. They are free.

Sketch Comedy
Wednesday, December 7th
Colony Ballroom
Stamp Student Union
6:00 PM (you will be out in time for basketball)
Free Admission

Standup and Improv Comedy
Thursday, December 8th
Atrium
Stamp Student Union
8:00 PM (you will be out in time for pre-gaming … for the bars)
Free Admission

Angst

I have not written anything today, but will tomorrow.
In the meantime, I have asked comic/friend Jay Hastings to write a guest blog about his experience at an open mic last night. I have to warn you that it is rated R. I did not edit anything either.
Enjoy.

IPR: 2001 (I'm Passionately Retarded)
1 message

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Jay Hastings	Tue, Nov 29, 2005 at 12:13 AM
To: Ryan Conner
Ryhan (you should spell your name like that) - You can be the editor if you need to, because this thing ran a little long. I had a blast writing it and I'll bet a dollar we get at least two responses. Just to let you know, if your Web Blog isn't going to except my short story, I have been shopping it around to other comics who will be more than happy to put it on their blog. Let me know what you think of it, seriously. Jay Hello, I'm Jay Hastings (read it how Johnny Cash says it). Anywho, Ryan Conner, the talented comic who's web blog your reading, has been gracious enough to share his World Wide Web space with me so that I may educate young comics, like myself, on how to handle assholes who should have been wet dreams and aborted early by their stupid ass daddies back in middle school, when they Heckle you at Soho Café in Dupont Circle on a fucking Monday night. This guy was made of the first sperm a ball ever produced and the first egg ever dropped from a whore. I don’t like this person if it hasn’t become obvious, and here’s why. First, I can admit when I’m not doing well on stage. And tonight I wasn’t “killing” as they say in this “bizz.” But, I also don’t think I was verbally shitting in the audiences ear, and deserved to be heckled. But not according to Mr. Catch a Rising Star sitting at the second table from the window next to the cash registar wearing a LRP: 2001 hat. I opened the show and started my set with a new joke I have been playing with. It’s about fat people and discriminating against them. I know what you’re thinking: “Why does that joke not kill everytime? Fat people are gross. And I like potty humor.” Well, that’s what I thought too. As I was bombing two dudes right next to the stage are talking their asses off and I politely ask them to shut the fuck up. I was not aware of the SoHo rule that comics cannot heckle the crowd, because that’s when old Filibuster Phil started flapping his cocksucker about how shitty I was. (I do not know this assholes real name but tonight, it’s Phil.) Phil says, “You can’t make fun of us. Your job is to entertain us, and not to make people walk out the door.” Well, thanks for clearing up the obvious asshole. That caught me off guard. **note to the reader: it’s all a little foggy from here on out because my brain no longer had the gigs to process any short-term memory because it was overloaded with white hot haterd. Phil, says a couple of other things just digging at me. Well, I did the classic, "Guess what asshole, I've got the mic and I'm gonna be louder than you so you don't fucking win," routine. And then I believe it was around 9:17 eastern coastal time the spirit of Bill Hicks and Judge Judy’s love child came out of my mouth. Once I started yelling I couldn’t stop. I felt like I was in that radical Scream Theropy. It felt really good. I’m talking bloody murder, “My childs in that car!,” type screaming. My set was basiclly me screaming profanities at this boob milk stain until I ran out of breath. Then he would fire back, “Your still not funny. You don’t know what comedy is.” Really? I beg to differ. While some people might have seen terrified, frightened faces in the crowd I saw comedy. Because I was unleashing gold. There was a lot of “motherfuckers”, “assholes”, “I wish you had been an abortion,” type humorous insults. I think I said some things that Andrew Dice Clay would be ashamed of. I just continue hitting below the belt. It’s like Phils balls were a speed bag and I had the sweetness. That eventually led to Phil challenging me to, “Say that shit to my face.” Which led to my, “Why don’t you just call my mom a whore, and push me down on the playground at recess,” childish playground fight retort. I was failing fast. Screaming hatred at people is very hard. It takes endurance. I don’t know how Hitler did it. So since I was feeling the burn I pulled out my comedy Gatorade and tried to get the audience reading for the fourth quarter. But sadly, not even the “Do you think herpes sores have ever spelled out “herpes” and saved a blind person a lot of trouble?”, could save the crowd. It was a lost cause. As soon as I stepped off stage my mind was put to rest because I received a few congrats from some people, but more than anything I got thank yous. It turns out Phil is a goddamn douche bag to everybody. Apparently, Phil is the fly in a lot peoples soup. And now that I know that I don’t feel bad. I feel even better. Because what I said to him tonight, a lot people have been wanting to say. I set some things straight tonight. I wasn’t the asshole comic who can’t take the high road. I was the good Karma that floats around and bites dickheads like Phil in the taint. So, in closing I just want to say, “Your Welcome Soho and I’ll see you next week.” P.S. I’m gonna kill that motherfucker!

Two Turntables and No Microphone

If you want to be cool, I have some shows this week that you can check out. Wednesday I will be at Willie and Reed’s in Bethesda. It’s a benefit for a local theatre. Tickets are $5 and there will be some great comics on the show. Thursday I will be at Wiseacres performing on my friend Rob Maher’s cd release party/show. The show has a great line-up, including Rob and Andy Kline. And it’s only 6 or 8 or ten dollars. On Sunday I’ll be doing a guest set at the DC Improv with Mike Birbiglia. Mike is a comic genius and he’ll be recording his new cd this week for Comedy Central Records. COME TO THIS SHOW! It’s only $15 and Mike is going to be huge in the near future, and I can probably talk him into allowing you to touch him.

Now, onto other things, tidbits if you will…

-This is a weird tidbit. I have a cat named Spiderman and sometimes I try to confuse it by meowing. Usually her ears perk up when I do this, which has always led me to believe that I can speak cat. But it just occurred to me that maybe her ears are perking up because I sound like the equivalent of an American person pretending to speak Chinese, which usually just sounds racist. So she may think I’m racist against cats. I’m going to keep doing it anyway.

-I don’t watch much TV. I don’t listen to the radio. I only watch a movie if I know it’s going to be good in advance. So, if you make a pop culture reference, chances are I’m not going to get it. If that happens, don’t think you should explain the reference to me. That’s something called “annoying.” This happens all the time. I’ll be hanging out with someone and they’ll say something like, “That’s just like in “Parent Trap” when the parent sets the trap… you know?” No, I haven’t seen the movie. “Well it’s pretty good. Underrated, to say the least. It’s basically a story about a…” Shut your face. If I didn’t see the movie, the explanation is just going to make your reference suck even worse. Don’t do it.

-Last night I was a part of two things that happened for the first time ever. First, at my show at the DC Arts Center, there were only 12 people in the crowd. And there was a DJ with two turntables. That’s a six to one, audience member to turntable ratio. There’s no way that has ever happened before. There also was no microphone. We went a capella.

-Second, I went to the Improv after the show to hang out with some friends. As I was leaving I went to shake Rob Maher’s hand. I have a good, firm handshake, but I will admit that my approach is a bit slow. So, oftentimes, people will go to shake my hand and before I can get my hand in position they’re just squeezing my fingers, which makes me feel and look like a loser. This happened when I was shaking Rob’s hand. Now, I’ve known him for years, but I don’t think we’ve had that many handshakes, so I didn’t want to leave him with the fish hand, so I asked for do-overs. And we re-did the handshake and it was marvelous and firm. No one else has ever asked for handshake do-overs. It was amazing that I had the courage to request do-overs.

-On Friday, I went to one of those Japanese restaurants where they cook on your table. It was there that I realized that the chefs at those restaurants are the best comics in America. They kill every show. All of the material is clean. No easy sex, drugs or race material. They do use props, but no one is perfect. The opener who came to get our drink orders wasn’t very funny, but she was likeable and fused the crowd so that we would be engaged when the headliner, Soshimu, came out. All I’m saying is that ten years from now, people will be like, “Richard Pryor? Who? You should see Soshimu.”

If you haven’t been to one of these places, you should know that in order to fill every table, they seat you with total strangers. My favorite moments of the night were provided by another guy at the table. He was wearing a red mock-turtle neck and a white sweater vest decorated with poinsettias, and was killing Mai-Tais like they were the Viet-Cong. He seemed a bit too gay to have a wife and kids, but nevertheless he had them. By the way, I’m not saying he was too gay to have kids. Gay people can have kids. I just think it’s weird for gay men to have wives. A wife is a very hetero thing for a guy to have. It’s actually second to a motorcycle in the hierarchy of straightness. Anyway, he was yelling at his daughter, Julie, to make sure she got all of the jokes. Julie was only eight, and she was watching Soshimu, not Sinbad, so she wassn’t going to get all the jokes. One time, Soshimu made a row of sesame seeds on the table and said, “Look! Sesame Street.” It killed, of course. But little Julie didn’t get it. So King Mai-Tai turned to her and yelled, “Get it? Sesame Street? Because those are sesame seeds… Yeah, they’re in a row… like a street… Sesame Street…. Yeah, like Big Bird!!! HOLY COW… WOOOOO!!!! Yeah. [Looking at everyone else at the table] DID YOU GUYS SEE HER FACE WHEN SHE GOT IT? WOOOOOO PRICELESS! Julie, slow down on your Shirley Temple. Daddy isn’t paying for refills tonight.”

Tomorrow, I will post my opinions on movie trailers.

Cranberry Sauce

I went to the Bright Eyes concert at Constitution Hall on Friday. The music was amazing, of course. However, concert etiquette needs to be established. I don’t care if you stand the whole time. You can dance. You can pretty much do anything except two things. One: Don’t get up from your seat and push your way down the aisle every 15 minutes. If you do this, everyone will hate you. Two, and most importantly: Don’t yell out the names of songs. If you paid more than five dollars to get in, the band is not taking requests. Even if you got in for free and it’s at a 3,500 seat theatre, the band is not taking requests. They are beyond that stage. If you realize that and you still yell out song titles, you are an idiot. People do it though. They compete to see how obscure they can get. Great. You have Kazaa. We’re proud of you.

I had my first On-Demand experience on Saturday night when I watched Ammityville Horror. That movie was stupid. If you’re looking into utilizing the On-Demand this weekend, do the universe a favor and don’t watch this movie. It will only anger you, and then you’ll complain about it to your friends, which will make them complain that you’re whining to them. It will be a vicious cycle. Don’t watch it.

I did an open mic at Soho in Dupont on Monday. The crowd was dead. One funny thing happened though. A homeless guy sat next to a girl and talked to his imaginary friends for over an hour. She just sat there, staring into her laptop (laptops enhance the comedy experience), pretending she wasn’t terrified. But she was because she was trapped in a corner. The only way she could get up was by asking the homeless guy to move. But the homeless guy didn’t want to get up because he didn’t want to inconvenience his “friends” Diane and Ramone.

I was recently reunited with the sunglasses that I’m wearing on my homepage. We were separated for several months, but now we’re back together. So, you don’t need to worry about that situation any longer.

I’m performing at the AOL Holiday Party on 12-3 with Adam Ferrara. If you work there, I’ll see you then. If you don’t work there, I think their application process takes longer than a week, so you may be out of luck.

Have a great Thanksgiving.

Catching up...

Here is what has happened in the last five days.

Frank Hong and I drove down to Blacksburg, VA to perform at Hokie House, which does weekly comedy shows on the fringe of Virginia Tech’s campus. It was a long drive. Halfway through the drive, we stopped at an independent record store to buy an album that had just come out. I mention that it was independent for a reason. As I finished my purchase, the sales clerk took a call… “Plan 9 Music, this is Buzzsaw…” Buzzsaw? Is that really your name? Only at an independent record store would a sales clerk find it appropriate to have stage name. “Jeremy sounds too corporate.” Yeah, but Buzzsaw sounds retarded.

The show that night was very cool. The booker/host, Pat Miller was cool and a good host. The crowd was great, with no real dips during my 45 minute set, and it felt like a real college show even though it was off-campus. And, for some reason, people think that comics are alcoholics. Some are, but not most. Sure, we love PCP, and other drugs that I don’t actually even know what they look like. I bring this up because after the show, the bartender slid two double shots of Jager to Frank and I. I looked at her like, “Have you noticed that we’ve both been drinking water all night?” You don’t go from water to Jager. Frank ended up doing his shot and splitting mine with a girl. And for some reason I’m a loser for not drinking licorice flavored motor oil. This reminds me of when I went out with Dave Attell and Sean Rouse after a show at the DC Improv. Everyone in the bar wanted to buy Attell a shot of Jager because he drinks a lot on his show. He drinks a lot without cameras too, but if he actually accepted all of the shots that were offered, he would die of alcohol poisoning every night. But people don’t understand that, and when he turns down the shot, they look at him like, “Attell is so Hollywood.” Some people just don’t want to die. Calm down with the Jager shots.

I headlined the show at Hokie House. The next night, Thursday, I was to headline a showcase at Wiseacres. Usually, when someone asks you to headline, it means that you are doing a lot more time than everyone else, usually 45 minutes, and it means that you will get paid a lot more than everyone else. However, sometimes, as I learned at Wiseacres, it can mean that you’re going up last and your picture is the largest on the flier. On a show where six comics are doing twenty minutes each, last is the worst spot to be in. However, that was my position as headliner.

Before it is misinterpreted, I want to be clear that I love the staff and love performing at Wiseacres and always have. I'm also thankful that Clay Miles asked me to be on the show. This was just an odd night because of the crowd.

Before getting into the details of the show, I want to make a proposal. The government should issue some type of id card that must be worn around the necks of people who think it’s funny when someone says things like, “White people don’t eat biscuits, but black people… we love some biscuits.” As humans, let’s not divide ourselves over biscuits. Everyone loves biscuits… and chicken too. I don’t know where the chicken stereotype came from either. I’ve never met a non-vegetarian who doesn’t love chicken. Anyway, the deal with the comedy ID cards would be that if more than 40% of the crowd has them, the show is cancelled. If more than 70% has them, they should all be forced to eat chicken and biscuits until they no longer think the stereotype is funny. As an added bonus, if you screech like a pterodactyl, like a woman at the show, whenever someone says something stereotype related, especially if it is a black comic doing a joke about getting the light and it reminding him of being interrogated, you would get a forced lobotomy under my new plan.

The fun, during this show, was happening in the back of the room. My friend Quincy, Jared Stern, Sean Gabbert, Tim Miller, Jerry Thomas, Herbie Gill and I were hanging out. The highlight was when Jared (white guy) said something to Herbie (black guy) and Herbie responded, “I can’t talk to you Jared. We’re too different.”

I had planned on going up and saying something like, “What is up with Whitney?” or “Hey, Hey , Hey,” or “2005, lot of crazy stuff going on.” I decided to go with something that I actually thought was funny though and talked about the backdrop on the Wiseacres stage. It’s a silhouette of the DC skyline, but the guy on the capitol is standing like Dolemite. The crowd liked that.

For the next 20 minutes, I lost 75% of my soul. If my ID card plan was in effect, I could have been at McDonald’s at that point, eating a McRib and talking about how I was glad we didn’t have to deal with and pterodactyl laughers. But no… I had to go on. They were weird. A couple jokes killed. They liked some setups on others, but didn’t understand sarcasm. And some things just bombed. I don’t care if something bombs because it’s not funny, or because I delivered it wrong, but when it’s a proven bit that always works, and it bombs, I begin to memorize the faces of everyone who didn’t laugh and mentally file them under “People I Hate.” Most comics don’t care enough to do this. But I care. And I hate. Twice, I got really annoyed with the crowd and let them know. The first time I said, “Okay, that bombed. Cool. 50,000 people who have laughed at that joke must have been wrong.” Then, a couple minutes later, after another proven joke ate it, I took a sip of water and paused for at least 5 seconds, and said, “Okay, I think it’s unanimous that no one wants to be here. I know I don’t. Pteradactyl doesn’t. Let’s just leave and pretend it didn’t happen.”

I finished my set though, and it went pretty well after they knew that I didn’t want to be there. But something happened after the show that’s annoying. A guy came up and said, “I really liked the joke about the gay horse.” I don’t have a joke about a gay horse. No one does. I have a joke that contains the words “gay horse,” but the joke has nothing to do with a gay horse. That’s like going up to Spieldberg and saying, “I really like the movie that you made about the car.” What? “You know, Schindler’s List.” Well there was a car at the end of the movie, but I don’t think that was the point of the movie. Comedy ID cards need to happen.

Wiseacres, Dancing and Twinkles

Before we get to the funny, I have an announcement. If you go to Wiseacres (http://www.wiseacrescomedyclub.com/) in Tyson’s Corner, Thursday at 8, then I will get money. I am headlining and get paid according to how many people come (door deal). Not many comics are that up front. I am. Show up and I get money.

The show will be very good. Jared Stern (who has a funny blog) and Sean Gabbert (who has a deceptively accurate jump shot) are also on the show. They are hilarious. If you go to Wiseacres’ website, only do so for directions. Don’t bother looking for the show. It isn’t listed. That is also how I roll. I refuse promotion. They asked if I wanted them to dedicate a separate website to the show, and go to college campuses to give out sno-cones shaped like Jesus, in my name. I said no. I’ll just put it on my blog the day before the show. That should pack the place. We’ll see.

If you read the blog regularly, you may recall the Geek Comedy Tour 3000 debacle that went down on November 6. If not, several friends and myself created a very uncomfortable environment at this show. It was during Jon Mumma’s set at the end of the show. Several of us went on stage with him after getting into the wardrobe room. Everyone was shirtless. Rory Scovel had a rubber chicken in his pants. I had a guitar, a straw hat and a fake tattoo that said, “CMT.” There was man-on-man dry humping (not me). Mumma was wearing a kimono, which he removed at the end of his set to ensure that no one would ever return to the Comedy Spot. It was delicious.

Since then, I have seen images of the show everywhere, like an oasis in the desert, but hadn’t revisited the real thing… until tonight. Rory and I decided to watch the video of the incident. It was just like I remembered. Chris Barylick yelled out, “What the hell are you guys doing?” in the middle of the set. James Jones rode out on a hobbyhorse to really confuse people. Justin Schlegel and I clearly decided that the whole thing was a horrible idea about 30 seconds after it started. Rory was pretty straight-faced the whole time. And I have no idea how Mumma kept his composure. But it was exactly like I remembered, until we noticed something that probably should have triggered the end of the world. Jon had invited Chris Barylick onstage with us after he yelled at us. Chris obliged, and took off his shirt for good measure. Then moments later, and I have no idea how this went unnoticed during the show, Chris stepped forward and began to dance. He danced with his hands over his head, stripper style, with an ass smack and everything for a good 10 seconds. The only person on stage who appeared to notice it was Rory, who jumped back as if someone was trying to shit on him. The funny thing is that we rewound the dvd at least 10 times to try to figure out what prompted him to dance. There was nothing. We pinpoint an instant when Chris’s eyes began to twinkle, then he just started dancing. There will be clips of this on my website, as long as it’s cool with Chris.

Another Geek Comedy Tour tidbit: I am a loser. I did a post last week about my web stats, which a few other DC comics did after me (I was the first). I also have a tendency to google myself when bored. When doing this, I stumbled upon a preview for that show in the Washington Post. Here it is:

Sunday, Nov. 6
We only got one of the sci-fi inside jokes on the announcement for the Geek Comedy Tour 3000, so if you recognize slogans like "The Geek Comedy Tour 3000: Comedy that KNOWS Han shot first," you've found your stand-up nirvana, fanboy. (And yes, we know what that one refers to.) One dozen comics are heading for the Comedy Spot tonight, where we expect to hear at least one bad William Shatner impression and one guy lament how his mom threw away his "Star Wars" action figures. On the other hand, Erin Conroy, Ryan Conner and Frank Hong have actually made us laugh in the past. The show is free and runs from 8 to 10.

First of all, I have to admit that I didn’t get ANY of the sci-fi jokes, as I think science-fiction is incredibly gay. Yes, that includes Star Wars. It also appears that they are complimenting me. But not really. “Have actually made us laugh” isn’t the strongest compliment one can receive. That’s like a restaurant review reading, “On the other hand, I didn’t throw up the tater tots.” That’s not exactly a ringing endorsement of tater tots. They just won’t make you sick. This makes 5-10 times I’ve been mentioned in their weekend preview. All of the other mentions have been even more vague, such as, “We don’t know what to expect from most of the acts, but we have seen Ryan Conner.” And my favorite, “Ryan Conner is like a nice, cool cup of silly!” That is a compliment, but I can’t put that in my bio. People would expect me to hit myself on the head with a rubber hammer between jokes. Get your act together Post. I need a line for my bio. For now I’m going to put in “[has] actually made us laugh” and hopefully bookers won’t think that I took it as a genuine compliment. Write about the Wiseacres show or something.

If you haven’t read the previous post, do so. Then read the comments that were left by the same idiot that I was talking about in the post. I have nothing to say about it. Just read it and you’ll see what I mean.

My show at TPC at Avenal (really nice country club) this Friday has been cancelled. So, to all of my rich, country club going readers: Grow up. This site isn’t for you. I just wrote about man-on-man dry humping.

If you aren’t busy this Friday, trust me and get tickets to see Bright Eyes at Constitution Hall. I don’t care if it’s sold out. Scalpers will be there. Make it happen. They are amazing.

If you live near Virginia Tech, I will be headlining Hokie House tonight at 8, with feature act, Frank “The Hilarious Asian” Hong.

Misc...

Quote of the week: “That kid does Emo Phillips better than Emo Phillips does himself.”

-Jay Hastings referring to an autistic, and more than likely, retarded kid doing comedy. It’s actually a compliment to the kid. Then the kid said something about the ACLU, which made him a lock for the world’s smartest retarded kid.

I saw a couple movies this weekend: The Aviator and Jarhead. Neither was what I was expecting. The Aviator was great, when I thought it was going to be a little boring. Meanwhile, Jarhead was a huge lump of crap. I was expecting Platoon, but what I got was Varsity Blues with guns. The same thing happened last year when I saw Ladder 49. I was expecting a Backdraft caliber movie, but instead it was like Will and Grace with fire. Both were equally horrible life decisions.

I saw Jarhead at night, even though I swore off going to theatres at night a while ago because there are so many idiots there at that time. Most people are normal, however theatres at night are usually about 10% idiot. During the day, there usually aren’t any idiots at all. Sitting to my left was the perfect example of an idiot. She had been talking to herself throughout the movie, saying nothing but the obvious, such as, “That’s his foot!” and the occasional, “mmmm… camouflage… ohhhh … football.” The topper was at the end of the movie. It cut to a guy’s funeral, IN A WAR MOVIE, and she loudly said, “What happened?” Now they didn’t show how he died, but we were at the same movie. We gathered the same facts. It was pretty easy to figure out. Don’t be a movie theatre idiot.

My friend, Glen Quesenberry, and I are pioneering a new sport that we’re going to call “Hurricane Quesenberry.” Here’s how you play: Get a leaf blower, and not one from Big Lots. You need a strong industrial sized one. Glen’s has a backpack. It looks like something from Ghost Busters. It actually blows 180 MPH. I don’t know how much horsepower that is, but my car doesn’t go nearly that fast. So if it hits you, it’s like getting hit by a fast car that’s made out of air. That’s all the equipment you need. You need at least two players. One at a time, they stand six feet in front of the leaf blower, and you turn it on 180 MPH. Every couple seconds it’s a good idea to throw some sort of debris into the gusts so they get the full hurricane effect. Whoever can stand in front of the “Hurricane” the longest wins.

The part that I like is that I have no idea how long people can last. It could be like bull riding where you’re thrown off in a matter of seconds, or it could be something that takes hours. And if that’s the case, it becomes just as much a sport for the person holding the leaf blower as it is for the other person. Then the sport has both offence and defense, which would ultimately force people to choose which aspect they’ll focus on. Of course the kids will all want to play offense (holding the leaf blower), but the older people respect defense more. And after about 40 years people will have endorsement deals with Skilcraft, John Deere and whoever makes trailers. But then everything will go downhill because Sportscenter will only show the fancy offensive highlights, which will cause all of the sports’ rising stars to do unnecessary behind-the-back hurricaning so they look like their heroes from the Dayton DustDevils. Pretty soon, all Americans will be focused on looking good instead of playing right, and the American team will get crushed by Argentina in the World Championships, because Argentina still focuses on the fundamentals and rewards good defense. What I’m saying is Stephon Marbury shoots too much.

On Friday I wrote about something that annoys me, but was still an obviously sarcastic post. It was about people who have never done comedy or have only done a couple open mics, but actually have a website devoted to their comedy “career”. It was not in reference to anyone who actually does shows around DC, as it referred to people who have never done it, but call themselves “rising stars.” They aren’t people I’ve met, since they don’t even do shows. They are just people whose websites I’ve found because I’m a loser. Somehow this ruffled some feathers. And I only use that incredibly gay phrase because it matches the gayness of the comment left by the anonymous comic whose feathers I ruffled.

Here are excerpts from what I wrote:

Here are guidelines for comedians’ websites, as defined by me:

- If you’re funny, but have been on stage less than 10 times, don’t get a website. It’s stupid. What are you advertising? Other than SIDS, nothing is sadder than reading a comic’s bio that covers all facets of his or her comedy “career” when all they’ve done is two open mics at a butcher shop.

- Your website isn’t really doing anything for you if you tell people to check you out at www.websites.com/leftfoot/grimlockhungry16%/pump/tutelidge.htm. We aren’t all Stephen Hawking (or someone with a great memory). Pick something a little easier to remember. “But I’m left-footed and I love Grimlock!” No one cares. Use your name, you stupid whore-faced whore. (Editor’s note: I’m not actually referring to anyone’s sexual lifestyle. It’s just a generic negative adjective.)

- Don’t have a blog if your entries all read, “Last night I had a show. It was pretty cool. More later.” If you do this, I will hate you.

- Don’t include a bio that begins with the following: “One of the best comics working today…” No you aren’t. Chances are, if that were true, people wouldn’t have to read it in your bio. They would already know about you if it were true. Don’t do it especially if any of the other conditions that I listed apply to you.

I noticed a link on a good comic’s website to a comedians message board called nobodylikesme.com. I checked it out and it seemed like a cool site, but it is [infested with] the people that I mentioned. This is an actual post:

“What i notice in this business is that you have to have some sort of gimmick to make it to the top. Like some catch phrase or something like that. Get r done. Tool time what ever. Does anyone have a gimmick. Besides short bus. We know his. Or do you think that is not the way to go. that not having a gimmic is the best way not to be lame. But, if you don't have a gimmic. In a way. That is your gimmick. any thoughts.”

– User from nobodylikesme.com

If you have to ask people about “developing a gimmick,” don’t do comedy. Juggle or do magic or something.

I haven't updated my links in a while, but if you want to check out cool comics' websites, here are a couple that I still need to add to my page:
www.marshallhenry.com
www.tdcpresents.com

Somehow, someone was very offended by that, when it clearly does not call out anyone who actually does comedy or even tries to do it. I have an equal level of respect for someone who does one show per week and struggles through his or her set as I do someone who kills every night. Comedy is a hard thing to do, and it takes a lot of courage to get up in front of a crowd and not know if they’ll like you or not. Now that’s out of the way, here is what Faggy “Left Foot” McGay said:

Anonymous said...

Ryan you are an asshole. Who cares what you think about other comics. Don't be a prick, that won't get you anywhere.

12:31 PM

I have a few issues with this:

-Why remain anonymous? I’m stating my opinion on a website that bears my name, so why did this person remain anonymous? Because his feathers were ruffled.

-Punctuation. How about a comma or a question mark? You could probably split up the run-on too.

-Who cares about what I think? Obviously this person cares enough to not only read it, but to also leave a comment.

-Prick? I stated that it’s annoying when people are delusional. I guess he’s right. That’s a prickish stance to take. Delusion is charming.

-Grow up and don’t insult people through anonymous comments on a blog. That’s very gay. Not in a homosexual way, but more prison-rape gay, which is very unnecessary.

Cingular

A Tale of Two Lives

At 7:40 PM Tuesday night, I was sitting around my apartment, waiting for several friends to show up at nine to play basketball. My phone rang. The opener had cancelled on Adam Ferrara’s show at Lisner Auditorium (1500 seat theatre at GW). I said I would love to host, but when is the show? In twenty minutes? I’ll be there. So, I rushed there, arrived in time, did 18 minutes and left to play basketball. On my way home I received a call informing that GW would like to pay me a massive amount of money for the show. I chose to accept their offer, as it was massive. The show and the money made two great things in about an hour. Then we started playing basketball. My team lost the first game, which we shouldn’t have. Then, in the second game we crushed them 11-0, with me hitting 8 consecutive shots to win the game. How could the night get any better? It couldn’t. During the next game, I came down on someone’s foot and my ankle twisted sideways until my toes touched my shin. Ouch.

I was carried to my apartment, and decided to wait until the morning to get it checked out. I was able to get an appointment at 1:00PM. I was kind of nervous because I didn’t want the injury to affect my weekend in Cincinatti. However, when my ankle twisted, I heard a series of pops, which is bad. After x-rays, the doctor came in and told me that the ligaments on the outside of my foot are all torn. Not one, but all of them. Also, she said there appears to be at least one break, and could be up to three. She has to review the films with an orthopedist and will know by Friday. Meanwhile, my ankle may or may not be broken. So, I was given an Aircast and crutches and told that if it isn’t broken, I have to use the crutches for a week and the Aircast for four weeks, and stay off my foot for another two weeks after that. If it is broken, once the swelling has gone down, I get to get a cast. Remember when having a cast was cool? It’s not cool when you’re 24.

The doctor also told me that I shouldn’t drive anywhere, much less Cincinatti, which is about nine hours away. So, the doctor cancelled my weekend at a club that I was really looking forward to playing. So, I called my friend who set up the week for me to tell him my situation. I was still considering making the drive against my doctor’s advice, so I told him I would call him back to let him know if I would make it. Then, I swear, no more than five minutes later, my BlackBerry just died. It’s new and it just decided it was finished. No explanation. So I went to the Cingular store (I get $2000 each time I mention them), where they told me it was a “freak accident,” and everything would be lost. Everything includes my address book, my calendar of shows and all of the jokes that I have written in the last six weeks.

I now have a broken ankle, a broken BlackBerry, and a broken spirit.

On the bright side, I went on stage at Dremos with crutches and had a great set of new and newer stuff. That should at least outweigh the broken ankle.

This entry is depressing. My bad. Pretend it was peppered with smiley faces.

Stats

I was doing some research of statistics for my site and discovered a few things. Here they are:

- Only 8.1% of people who have been to my site this month use Firefox. If you’re still using Internet Explorer (82% of all users), get with it. Firefox is great and never locks up like explorer. Sometimes I entertain. Other times, I inform.

- I can see what people have typed in to search engines that brought them to my site. Suprisingly, there has been nothing related to porn star Ryan Conner. By the way, why is everyone in porn a “star”? No one in porn is just a character actor/sexer. I don’t know if a lot of them are delusional, or if they all really are stars. If you need a self esteem boost, get into porn. Everyone is a star.

- One phrase that yielded results for my site was “Wet chest.” I think that might have been a porn-related search, but I can’t imagine why someone would look up the words “Wet chest.” Who is in to wet chest, and would phrase that fetish as “I’m into wet chest.”? A weird person, that’s who.

Those words were on my site in a previous blog entry when I was talking about doing a show at University of Maryland and I poured water all over my chest on stage.

- This phrase also directed someone to my site – “denis leary on conan o brien and the music he mentioned”. I have no idea why.

- I have evidence that there are some sick people out there. Over 40 people have searched for the words “dilf hunter” and saw my site as a result. I mentioned the dilf hunter as a sketch idea, born from the mind of Larry Poon. If you are seriously looking for dilfs, you are a weirdo. You shouldn’t be on my site. And what is desirable about a guy with a kid? Nothing. Stop searching for them. You’re sick.

This blog entry gets a c-minus. I will pick it up tomorrow.

Because some things just need to happen

If you were at the Comedy Spot last night, I’m sorry. Also, if you weren’t there, I’m sorry as well. You missed a train wreck. We all had decent sets, but here are some of the things that happened:

1. Justin Schlegel made fun of someone in the crowd who was talking. I think he even used the word “retard,” only to find out that the kid was actually retarded. Very retarded.
2. Rory Scovel, Justin, Jon Mumma and I all decided to wear mesh vests (no undershirt) that we found in the greenroom. One person backed out, so we scrapped the idea.
3. Toward the end of my set, I heard a sound from the greenroom, which is just to the side of the stage,that sounded like a raptor or something. I tried to ignore it, but after about 15 seconds I caved in and started laughing. The crowd didn’t hear the noise, so I just looked like an idiot. Also, during my set, I got a visual confirmation for Justin that the kid was in fact retarded. When he laughed, his body bobbed up and down like those bird things that dip into water. That was a vague reference. I found out that the squawk was a rubber chicken.
4. Rory was next. I waited until he got going, and decided to go to the edge of the stage and squeeze the rubber chicken. I didn’t know how to make the sound stop and it squawked for a good 10 seconds, thus further derailing the show.
5. In the greenroom, after Rory’s set, Jon Mumma got into the costumes. He found a kimono, stripped to his boxers and put it on, along with huge black framed glasses and a Crocodile Dundee hat. Rory, Justin, James Jones and I decided to join in on the fun. Guerrilla comedy was to ensue.
6. Jon’s set started. None of us were wearing shirts, but we were wearing scarves. I had a guitar. Justin and Rory were holding 3 feet tall spoons and forks. James was riding a hobby horse while yelling, “trot, trot, gallop, trot, trot, gallop.” We basically had no idea what we were doing. It was so hilarious in the greenroom though. While reading from a DOH pamphlet on abstinence, Jon point at a woman with a walker and said, “You know what I’m talking about.” At one point, the show’s organizer, Chris Barrylick, screamed, “What the hell are you guys doing?” No more than 20 seconds later, we had a shirtless Barrylick on stage, dry-humping Jon with an incredible amount of fury. Things got pretty uncomfortable and we had no idea of how to end it, but had to figure something out. Our solution: dead silence. Jon took off his kimono, and stood in his boxers for a few seconds. Then we walked out to the funeral-level silence. Other than a few comics, and big comedy fans that were applauding, it was scary silence.
7. The good thing is, like the Holocaust, now we know what humans are capable of doing, and history will never repeat itself. If you’re wondering, “Most of those guys are in the same sketch troup. Is that what their sketches are going to look like?” NO.

NAILS

I have several shows to update on Monday. For today, Daniel Tosh is at Lisner. He’s great. Check it out if you can. I’ll be at Cantina Marina in SW tomorrow, which will be a great show. And Sunday night, I’ll be at the Comedy Spot in Arlington as part of the Geek Comedy Tour 3000. There is info somewhere on my site about these shows.

I went to the Nine Inch Nails concert with my friend Allyson on Wednesday. Either John Coltrain or Miles Davis said, “There are only two kinds of music: good and bad.” I agree and NIN would be considered good. We also agreed that our mothers would not have like the concert.

-I’m not really a NIN fan, and had never listened to them until a year ago. That’s when I heard a Johnny Cash cover of their song “Hurt.” It was a great song so I got one of their albums and really liked it. I’m just letting you know that so you don’t think I’m one of the NIN freaks.

-They have a unique sound. Most bands are very dynamic, and the shows have the peaks and valleys of a movie. NIN was non-stop intense. It was like the battle scene in the beginning of Gladiator for an hour and a half.

-As we walked up to the arena there were a lot of guys selling products. Some were selling tickets and some were discreetly selling whores. The problem was that the guys who were doing this all wore similar clothes. Can we please pass a law that makes it a requirement for pimps to wear red velvet suits and carry canes? I don’t need to go to jail for solicitation of prostitute when I just want to see a Wizards game. Both scalping and pimping are illegal, so they are never direct in the transactions and I don’t want to accidentally buy a hooker. “I’ll take the best you have.” “This here is Minh-Li, she’s from Taiwan.” “Is she going to show me to my seats or something? What’s going on?”

-People mosh at NIN concerts. That’s stupid. “How was the NIN concert?” “It was awesome. I broke some guy’s nose.”

-I only know the names of about 5 NIN songs, but they had one that should have been called, “Robots Sound Like This.” You can’t say that about many bands, except maybe Mannheim Steamroller.

-Most white people would have no problem clapping in time to any song. However, stereotypes come from somewhere. That place: NIN concerts. The clapping was all over the place.

-Also, it’s 2005. Aren’t we, as people, beyond holding up a lighter whenever a soft song is played. It really doesn’t enhance the experience at all. It just let’s you know who is a loser.

WNBA star Sheryl Swoops held a press conference last week to announce that she was lesbian. Sheryl, you’re a WNBA star, we assumed you were lesbian. If you play in the WNBA and want to hold a press conference, only do it if it’s to announce that you’re straight.

Topaz was great last night. There was a loud woman whom Danny handled. He’ll probably write about it on his site, www.funnydanny.com .