This one isn't very good...
-I went out to dinner with Jon Mumma and his wife Amy on Monday. We had pizza. Jon asked me if I like mushrooms on my pizza. Jon, I don’t eat anything that grows on shit. You know that. It’s my only rule.
-Last night was the annual DC Improv Showcase Finals, where the winners of the previous eight showcases competed for a chance to go to LA for a week, and perform at the Hollywood Improv, etc… I hosted the show. Jon Mumma won and Justin Schlegel got second. Hooray.
This was the fourth year of the Showcase. All of them have been sold out, including last night. The crowds are usually great, because at least half of them have friends on the show. But whoever brought the most friends last night needs to get a new batch of friends. I don’t know who it was. But there were about 50-75 people who made the audiences at the Baltimore Comedy Factory feel like a Harvard crowd. They were talking freely between comics, asking questions during jokes, “I went to the store the other day…” Audience member: “What store you go to? My cousin Steve work at Target. They got er’ything. Socks, movies, pralines… You name it.” I’m not exaggerating. These people were beyond retarded. Every time I went up, between comics, I felt like Kindergarten Cop. One time I asked if they had forgotten to take their Ritalin. A guy in the front yelled out, “Ritalin fo’ ADD.” Yes, Ritalin is for ADD. That’s why I said it, you douche. At one point, I had to do a joke between comics to get the crowd back, and here’s how it went down… Ritalin guy thought he and I were having a casual conversation.
Me: A girl I know wanted to introduce me to one of her friends…
ADD: O-KAY! Nice!
Me: So she started describing her to me…
ADD: What she say?
Me: She said, “She’s smart, nice, funny…
ADD: Oh snap, you know what that means!
Then I finished the joke and tuned him out.
At the end of the show, when I was announcing the winners, this guy and several of his friends booed. I have never seen that happen anywhere, much less a comedy show. They are the type of people who go to little league games to start fights.
Here’s the kicker. Joe Robinson, a very funny comic who finished third, asked him what he does for a living. He’s a cop. There is no way that this guy’s IQ is over 60 and he’s a cop. So, contrary to popular belief, last night we found out that cops are stupid assholes. I’m shocked.
-I was at the bank last week, depositing a check. It’s a quick transaction. I don’t know what other people do at the bank, but it always takes them at least five times longer than it takes me. I’ve always wondered this. Everyone else always seems to be having some ordeal to handle. I’m just depositing checks.
Last week I got a peek at one of these long transactions. I overheard the woman in front of me say to the teller, “300 in twenties. None of the new twenties either. I don’t trust them.” Then the teller went fishing for old twenties. I didn’t know that we had this kind of power at the bank. I can guarantee that in the future, yours truly will be flexing some of his hard-earned account holding muscle. “200 dollars. All quarters. No Delaware quarters either. I don’t like corn.”
-The wait is over. I am now officially connected to the cinematic classic Soul Plane. We all wish we could say that. I can. That’s the difference between you and I. On Saturday, I opened for Kevin Hart, star of Soul Plane at Rochester Institute of Technology, which, believe it or not, is in Rochester. The show was held in their gym, which I felt weird about when I first heard about it, because of bleacher seating. But it was great. They put chairs on the floor and built a stage in the front. I was picturing it to be set up like a high school assembly/pep rally, since that was my only experience with shows in a high school gym.
It caused me to have flashbacks to high school assemblies. I think the most memorable was the one on drunk driving. A guy who was parapalegic, due to a tragic accident in which he was hit by a drunk driver, spoke to us. It really did its job, scaring us out of drunk driving. But, the thing that stood out to me was that he was parapalegic and he drove an enormous van. The gas, break, gears, and steering were all controlled with one hand. I think that sounds even more dangerous than drunk driving. So, in addition to not drinking and driving, we should also try to avoid being hit by a drunk driver. Insensitive, but true.
-I went to a coffee shop/kiosk thing at BWI airport a couple days ago. I ordered a mocha, and wanted a pastry as well. They only had four to choose from. I asked the cashier, who never made eye contact during the whole transaction, what was in one of them. She didn’t know. She didn’t even attempt to investigate either. She just said, “I don’t know. It’s got stuff in it.” I got it anyway, because I like stuff in my Danishes. Here’s the part that made we want to stab her: After I paid, still no eye contact up to this point, she slid her tip cup from the other side of the register and put it right next to my hand on the edge of the counter. So, as a notice to any coffee shop cashiers reading this, if you don’t know the contents of one of the four items that you sell, you get no tip.
-Last night was the annual DC Improv Showcase Finals, where the winners of the previous eight showcases competed for a chance to go to LA for a week, and perform at the Hollywood Improv, etc… I hosted the show. Jon Mumma won and Justin Schlegel got second. Hooray.
This was the fourth year of the Showcase. All of them have been sold out, including last night. The crowds are usually great, because at least half of them have friends on the show. But whoever brought the most friends last night needs to get a new batch of friends. I don’t know who it was. But there were about 50-75 people who made the audiences at the Baltimore Comedy Factory feel like a Harvard crowd. They were talking freely between comics, asking questions during jokes, “I went to the store the other day…” Audience member: “What store you go to? My cousin Steve work at Target. They got er’ything. Socks, movies, pralines… You name it.” I’m not exaggerating. These people were beyond retarded. Every time I went up, between comics, I felt like Kindergarten Cop. One time I asked if they had forgotten to take their Ritalin. A guy in the front yelled out, “Ritalin fo’ ADD.” Yes, Ritalin is for ADD. That’s why I said it, you douche. At one point, I had to do a joke between comics to get the crowd back, and here’s how it went down… Ritalin guy thought he and I were having a casual conversation.
Me: A girl I know wanted to introduce me to one of her friends…
ADD: O-KAY! Nice!
Me: So she started describing her to me…
ADD: What she say?
Me: She said, “She’s smart, nice, funny…
ADD: Oh snap, you know what that means!
Then I finished the joke and tuned him out.
At the end of the show, when I was announcing the winners, this guy and several of his friends booed. I have never seen that happen anywhere, much less a comedy show. They are the type of people who go to little league games to start fights.
Here’s the kicker. Joe Robinson, a very funny comic who finished third, asked him what he does for a living. He’s a cop. There is no way that this guy’s IQ is over 60 and he’s a cop. So, contrary to popular belief, last night we found out that cops are stupid assholes. I’m shocked.
-I was at the bank last week, depositing a check. It’s a quick transaction. I don’t know what other people do at the bank, but it always takes them at least five times longer than it takes me. I’ve always wondered this. Everyone else always seems to be having some ordeal to handle. I’m just depositing checks.
Last week I got a peek at one of these long transactions. I overheard the woman in front of me say to the teller, “300 in twenties. None of the new twenties either. I don’t trust them.” Then the teller went fishing for old twenties. I didn’t know that we had this kind of power at the bank. I can guarantee that in the future, yours truly will be flexing some of his hard-earned account holding muscle. “200 dollars. All quarters. No Delaware quarters either. I don’t like corn.”
-The wait is over. I am now officially connected to the cinematic classic Soul Plane. We all wish we could say that. I can. That’s the difference between you and I. On Saturday, I opened for Kevin Hart, star of Soul Plane at Rochester Institute of Technology, which, believe it or not, is in Rochester. The show was held in their gym, which I felt weird about when I first heard about it, because of bleacher seating. But it was great. They put chairs on the floor and built a stage in the front. I was picturing it to be set up like a high school assembly/pep rally, since that was my only experience with shows in a high school gym.
It caused me to have flashbacks to high school assemblies. I think the most memorable was the one on drunk driving. A guy who was parapalegic, due to a tragic accident in which he was hit by a drunk driver, spoke to us. It really did its job, scaring us out of drunk driving. But, the thing that stood out to me was that he was parapalegic and he drove an enormous van. The gas, break, gears, and steering were all controlled with one hand. I think that sounds even more dangerous than drunk driving. So, in addition to not drinking and driving, we should also try to avoid being hit by a drunk driver. Insensitive, but true.
-I went to a coffee shop/kiosk thing at BWI airport a couple days ago. I ordered a mocha, and wanted a pastry as well. They only had four to choose from. I asked the cashier, who never made eye contact during the whole transaction, what was in one of them. She didn’t know. She didn’t even attempt to investigate either. She just said, “I don’t know. It’s got stuff in it.” I got it anyway, because I like stuff in my Danishes. Here’s the part that made we want to stab her: After I paid, still no eye contact up to this point, she slid her tip cup from the other side of the register and put it right next to my hand on the edge of the counter. So, as a notice to any coffee shop cashiers reading this, if you don’t know the contents of one of the four items that you sell, you get no tip.
posted by ryanconnercomedy at 12:24 PM
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