Highlights from a recent show.

I did a Make a Wish benefit. The show was good. The crowd was good. We raised a lot of money. I have to say that before I make jokes about it.

It was at a college in Boston. I just hosted, did about 15-20 minutes of stand-up throughout, while the show was a student talent show. All of the acts were good at what they were doing, but a few things did stand out.

1. I only had a list of performers' names, not what they did. When I introduced the second act, and two "assistants" wheeled out a table of magic tricks, I almost lost it. I managed to make it off stage without laughing. Quincy, my roommate, came with me and was watching offstage. I walked up to him and said, "You don't like my illusions...my illusions... A trick is something a whore does for money... or cocaine." (Arrested Development) This was great to see in person because there's been a magic renaissance on TV lately. He and I watch whenever it's on. I can't think of anything funnier than a guy dancing around to Yanni, with a serious expression on his face, before pulling a dove out of his jacket. Just pull out the dove. Dancing not necessary. So, we're watching this student magician, I mean illusionist, with the hopes that she'll have a similar presentation. We looked up, and she sure enough did. She did the whole GOB thing, running around the stage while Pink's "I'm Coming Out" was blasting, and she was doing this shrug thing with her shoulders, which I took as, "I can't believe I'm doing this either."

I'm not going to knock the tricks, only the presentation.

The best part was between tricks, she threw a bunch of metallic confetti into the crowd, then danced around with a "Yeah, bitches... confetti!" look on her face. It was great. It looked like she thought the crowd didn't know what confetti is and didn't know where it came from.That's the magician.

2. I didn't realize that I shouldn't have said this until I told my friend Chris, and he started laughing really hard, saying, "Tell me you didn't really say that."One of the acts wasn't really an act. She just told of her experiences of working with Make a Wish. It was a really sad story, obviously. It's Make a Wish. The story was about her meeting a lot of kids... and then they die. Nothing is sadder than dead kids. Also, nothing brings a talent show to a grinding halt like someone talking about dead kids. I was listening to her story. She was crying and shaking. I was in the moment, pretty shaken up, until she said, "... when I look up at the stahs..." What the fuck is a stahs? Then I realized that's how people in Boston pronounce "stars." It really threw me off. It was like if I was watching Hotel Rwanda, and all of a sudden they cut to a bear on a tricycle. It's hard to get back in the mood after that. Anyway, I had to go back on stage after this speech, and introduce the next act, but I'm not supposed to do jokes, thank God. So I went up and said, joking, but I guess it's still not good, "Good thing I don't have to do jokes after that[nodding toward where she stood]... Awkward... Dead kids and stuff... Alright guys, who wants to hear a joke about lemonade? No one. Good. Well I hope you're in the mood for dancing then, because the next act..." About 10 percent of the crowd laughed at that, but it was obvious that they were trying not to laugh, because the other 90 percent were crying, as they should have been.

3. Because students were performing, their families came. There were kids in the audience. Not high-schoolers. Kids. Like 7-year-olds. And it turns out, a baby. I was doing the joke about the porn star Ryan Conner, and during a pause, a baby started to cry. That was a first. I was doing a version of the joke that's clean enough for network TV, but I'm not sure if it's clean enough for infants. The other bad joke choice of the night, which I did on purpose, was after a gospel choir, I did a joke called "Deez Nutz." The crowd got that I did it then on purpose.

4. When the school was presenting the check to the charity, Quincy and I were standing off-stage. He was stretching or something - his hands were above his head. So, while his arms were in the air, and we were just barely off of the stage, I lunged at him with my hands doing a tickle motion, and said, "Who's ticklish?" It's my new favorite thing to do. I was not prepared for his response. He jumped and let out a soft screech, then ran, while saying over and over, "Don't do that. Don't do that. You didn't know I'm ticklish?" The people on stage could hear this, I think, because I noticed some looks. Now, I didn't know whether or not he was ticklish. How would I know that, unless I had tickled him in the past. I hadn't. Plus he's 28-years-old. You'd think he could handle a good tickle. He can't. Like a child.

This is unrelated, but one of my little brothers used to be so ticklish that he would pee in his pants whenever tickled. This earned him the nickname (from my dad) Chief Pees-a-lot.

5. Oh yeah, there was a dance troupe and a big girl's ass crack was sticking out the whole time. That's all I have to report on that.