Tag: Comedy

I Will Maim Teenagers Drinking At Playgrounds

To The F*ckstain Who Smashed Beer Bottles at the Kid’s Playground:

You must be a teenager or somebody else with a very minimal view of the world. You cannot possibly be a good human being at this point in your life, but it will get better if you decide it will.  Until then, you are the reason there are cameras popping up at every street corner and playground.  Big Brother ain’t watching, YOUR BROTHER is watching.  And I’m pissed.

I did plenty of dumb stuff when I was young (as recently as last week in fact).  Fine.  Happy?  Good.  But the fact that you drained a couple Coors Lights, in BOTTLES I might add, which means you have no idea how to properly drain the Silver Bullets, is only the beginning of your idiocy. These are probably your step-dad’s garage beers, or something left behind from a July 4th BBQ your mom threw up after.  This isn’t an adult’s beer, a discerning man’s beer of choice.  Then, as if drinking the last of it, probably with a blossoming young lady who thinks you “bad” or “dangerous” because she doesn’t yet understand Life, as if the last sip was a 3-yard dive for a winning touchdown… you spike the bottle into the cement, shattering it.  Shards left behind in the high-traffic area of an elementary school playground. 

And you blue-ball it all the way home, smug and buzzed on watery beer and Axe bodyspray.  We’re watching.  We’re carrying stun-guns.
And dustpans. 
Decide right now which you’d rather have.

0

OK, Co-Worker… You’re a Nicehole

He comments on what you’re eating, then backs it up by saying he can’t eat that because he has a medical condition that prevents issue-free digestion of said food.  Then pounds SILK Soy Creamer into his tea.  Dude, it’s chicken, broccoli, and almonds.

He eats 4-8 pieces of fruit per day, spending about 30min washing it in the workplace kitchen sink.   

He wears black undershirts, under his work shirts.

He wears pleated pants.  For the love of Claude…

He walks by people in conversation and throws in a “Hey guys” as though they had acknowledged his approach and passing. 

He doesn’t wear a wedding ring, so he’s either divorced or one of those married assholes who doesn’t wear a wedding ring. 

He is monotonous, which comes across less “cool” and more “condescending.”

I may be reading something into this, but I wouldn’t drive to a gig with this guy, so he gets the Nicehole* award.

 

 

————————————————

*nicehole – n. – Any person who doesn’t overtly act in a manner that warrants being thrown to the ground, yet drives you up the wall.  Ex; Starting conversations they want to dominate. Comparing their troubles as a pet owner to yours as a parent.  Unable to take a visual or verbal cue that you’d like to end the interaction.  Pestering in a “Oh come on, you’ll have fun” kind of way. 

If you have seen the movie “Extract,” David Koechner’s character “Nathan,” the guy across the street is a perfect example.

 

0

Everybody’s The Smartest Dumbass, Dumbass

The internet is not just a giant suckhole of your time, sanity, and sanctity, it’s also where dipshits, tardloads, and the occasional thick-skulled seat-sniffer volleys a shot at your intelligence from their dandruff and sebum-grouted keyboard.  Everybody’s a tough guy until they get punched in the mouth.  That’s why they never show their mouth.  You can’t punch an internet tough-guy (a.k.a. “keyboard warrior”) in the mouth because theirs is full of a brain-frying energy drink and microwaved snacks.

A few months ago there was a “highlight” circulating of a high-school football scrimmage, wherein a running back takes a pitch-out around right-end and heads up-field.  He makes a “spectacular flip” over a defender and heads for the end-zone. I saw it and thought right away how the back made a full spin in the backfield (takes eyes off defense), the defense seemed really soft, the blocker falls down, and the safety from the middle of the field doesn’t even try to tackle the kid.  It looked staged.

Why stage it?  Hell if I know.  But it looked staged to me.  And I said as much in the comments.  And wow, did the dipshits come out of the basement jerk-closets!

Image

My name, GLRules is there.  My comment at the top.  I had 12 thumbs-downers, so a dozen people thought I was a complete asspipe.  Fine.
Then an anonymous user misspells “obviously” while making an assumption about my football-playing past.  He’s wrong. I did play football, I study it, I love it.

Then “ManU” chimes in stating that it’s a scrimmage so OF COURSE nobody’s trying… except the kid risking knee ligaments to flip over somebody, while the scrimmage just HAPPENED TO BE CAPTURED ON VIDEO BY SOMEBODY?! Which most coaches would rather you NOT F*CKING DO. Plus, ManU is the moniker of a popular British Soccer squad, so their knowledge of full-out sporting is suspect.

Isn’t my primary comment my way of tossing my TapouT hat into the “Ring of Tards”?  Sure.  I know it may get comments and those comments may be from idiots.  But when you call it out, and it’s faked, and people defend it, and 2 weeks later it’s A COMMERCIAL FOR A WIRELESS CARRIER… then yeah… you get to walk out of the tard ring knowing that you weren’t crapping on some kid’s dream of being a getting a full-ride Parkour scholarship.  So what do you do in that case?

Image

Ya just keep throwing.

Never let dipshits get the better of ya.

0

Gimme Moore: I Opened For Bob Saget

I recently had the privilege and pleasure of opening for Bob Saget’s TV Special taping at The Moore Theatre in Seattle.  Before I go any further I must tell you that I was recently told to not be so humble or self-deprecating when it comes to my achievements.  I honestly have to be, because I’m just not a guy who can toot my own horn too loudly.  Those who toot the loudest usually are off-key and poorly trained, so I keep my tooting down a bit.

But opening for Bob was awesome.  Really, really fun.  First, Bob Saget’s one of the nicest guys I’ve met in comedy and show business.  Truly a sweet guy who has a comedic dark streak and embraces it.  His history as a TV host and the TV dad (possibly the only one they ever had) to the Olsen Twins belies the fact that his act is “dirty,” hilarious, and unflinching.  And it’s not “in your face,” it’s just there to be laughed about.  I was really happy to work with him again, and he was very gracious in meeting my wife and good friends backstage.  He’d met some of my buddies earlier this year at the Snoqualmie Casino show we did in March, and was just as cool.  Consistency is truth.

 Second, and screw the humility a moment, there’s a point in every comedians dreams where a full club is roaring with laughter and screaming and you can’t hear yourself think because your last words got ‘em frothy.  That happened for me a few times that night.  Having over 1,000 people go nuts like that – AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TO SAY ‘WHAT’S UP SEAATTLLLEEE?!?!?” was a huge moment in my comedy career.  It was a wall of appreciation, laughter, and good taste.  I took a moment to take it all in. 

 Finally, in this market it’s tough to build on that success because there’s not too much else to do.  BUT, I have been bugging Bob about doing some work in Vegas.  He likes my stuff, I show up and do my work and get his crowd amped, and we get along greatly.  So we’ll see what else happens.  In the meantime I’ll be at my desk working on my Project Management certifications, hearing some new blowhard talk about all the things wrong with Project Management in America, wondering if this guy understands how loud his tooting is. 

1

Nobody Cares, Burnout

Did a show last night for about 300 people in a large casino North of Seattle.  Most everybody seemed to like me.  Not everybody’s always gonna like me.  Not on-stage, not on the roads, not in the aisle of a grocery store when I’m putting stuff in their unattended carts.  I’m okay with that. 

After my set last night, the headliner’s on-stage, and I am standing near the entrance and a guy walks out, passes me and the MC, and stops to tell the room manager “At least this guy’s (the headliner) funnier than the other two.”  This is a free show, BTW.  Zero fiscal commitment from the patrons.  It’s all on the entertainers.  Gas money.  Time spent driving, etc.  But apparently this guy wasn’t getting what he wanted until 5 minutes into the headliner’s act, and loved it so much, in fact, that he waited all the way through my 40min set to get up and hit the men’s room.

10 minutes later I am leaving, and the Unhappy Methadoner isn’t back yet.  I bump into a group of 20-something gals who are dressed like it’s Vegas night-out, I appreciate the enthusiasm.  They were in the show and thought I was “Hilarious” and “Awesome” and I think a “hella” was in there.  They want a picture with me, I say “Sure” because it makes them look more attractive since I’m a mess.  As we stand there waiting for a stranger to hit the button…. hit the button… just hit the red… it’s the button on the phone, here let me show you…

And here comes The Critic, strolling by our picture.  All of the best critics of stand-up comedians with acts based on their microcosmic extrapolation from personal to societal ills can be spotted because they know SO MUCH about comedy and what FUNNY is, that they wear cargo shorts and socks with their tactical boots because fashion takes a backseat to breaking down joke and act structure.  Guy knows his stuff.  And as he walks by, we finish the picture, and the critic pauses… to say something in passing.  Not even a Stop, Say It, Move On.  He’s kind of walking by at the same time.  And he says “You were okay, this guy’s funnier.“

My response?  “Yeah? Fuck off.” That got his attention.  He stopped and looked at me the way all shitdogs do, like his feelings were hurt for having had his opinion challenged.  You’re free to express yourself.  As am I.  And that’s how I expressed MYself.  He didn’t like what I had to say (contractually obligated) for 40minutes.  I didn’t like what he HAD TO SAY (as if it mattered) in a split second.

The laughing reaction of a crowd of strangers tells me I did my job properly.  Don’t like my act?  Find something else to do IN A CASINO.  If you’re at a show and hate me, you probably don’t “get me,” but that’s verrrry rare, and I barely ever intend to totally bore and offend an audience (unless I’m at the dayjob).  But if you make a point to voice your negative opinion about my act, or any other comedian’s act after they had 8 applause breaks and 4 jokes with over 10seconds of laughter from 275+ people, the only punchline you’ll understand is…

Fuck off.

4

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started