I Should Be Grateful, I Suppose, And Compare You To A Summer's Rose.

One of the most appealing aspects of religion is the way that shitty events get explained away as "God's will," or "the Universe trying to teach us a lesson," or whatever.

It's kinda true, though. Well, I'm not going to go on record either way on the whole is-He-or-isn't-He (or She or It or Them) question, but I have found that shitty events can be made to serve us. Buddhist thought, for instance, finds reasons to be grateful for failure, persecution and violent tragedy, and not just because those experiences help to burn away bad Karma (or sin, if you will). They help individuals to reflect on themselves, their past and the Universe in general. Pretty neat, huh? Most of your non-Odin-based religions have similar tenets, and I'm honestly torn from day to day as to whether or not the lemonade is real or just a means to keep chumps under control.

I got a chance to test it out last week, though. It was Wednesday, and I was on my way to the Loony Bin for the evening show. It's my first time hosting a normal Loony Bin show, and I want it to be great. Part of my ritual, when I can do so, is to feast upon a falafel and hummus from Gyro's Etc. in the shopping center across Rockwell from the Loony Bin. Best falafel ever.

Seriously.

Only sometimes they have trouble with my debit card, and I'm left with no way to pay for said delicious falafel, as I usually don't carry cash (note to muggers: I'm not worth it!). So, I decide to stop at a nearby ATM to get some cash. Now, I'm not going to name the financial institution, so let's just say that their name rhymes with "CHASE RANK." I pull up to their outdoor ATM, put my card into the green blinking card slot, and wait. For those of you curious about what blinking green lights mean, let just tell you, they don't mean "happy to serve you, sir!" The actual meaning is closer to "I'm hungry! Give me your fucking debit card now, asshole! Mmm... yummy debit card! It's mine now, fucker! HA HA HA HA HA!" Some of that is a little idiomatic, but you get the drift.

I am now sans card. I have already established I have no cash. So, I'm left with my checkbook. I might as well be paying people in fucking Confederate Dollars, because the thing has an address from two homes and one city ago. So, great. Thanks CHASE RANK! You guys "rock!"

By the way, if a machine grabs your card and won't give it back, that shit is GONE! No way you will get it back, it gets shredded immediately.

So, I drive to Wal-Mart, where I bank ('cause I'm a high-fuckin' roller!) to cash a check so I can, you know, pay for food and gasoline. I order a new card while I'm there, expecting that I'll have it by the end of the week. No, 5 to 7 days I am told. No, wait, 5 to 7 BUSINESS days. Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?! How hard is it to stamp out a damn card and put it in the mail? Are these things hand-crafted by a one-eyed master back in the Ozarks somewhere? Like, it's just him, a whittlin' knife and a big 'ol block o' plastic, perhaps? Because why else in the world would it take one of the biggest banks in the area a fucking week and a half to replace one lousy DEBIT CARD?!

But I digress.

I get the cash, I get the information, and more importantly, I get a nice dose of hate. It pushes out the nervous, the anxious, the oh-boy-I-gotta-do-good-tonight vibe in my head and replaces it with icy hot anger. I turned in a great performance that night, and like a good little method actor I had that nugget of hate at my disposal for the rest of the week, just smoldering in my back pocket where my debit card used to be.

So thanks, CHASE RANK ATM, you malfunctioning piece of shit. I hope you get struck by lightning.

And It Gives Me Something To Laugh About, 'Cause My Real Life Ain't Fucking Funny.

Nathan told me recently that comedy at the club level is all about selling beer.

There's something disturbing, yet comforting about that idea.

When I think about the performances of great comedians like Lenny Bruce or Richard Pryor, I focus so much on how groundbreaking they were and how amazing their material was that I forget the rooms were full of people who just wanted to have a good time. They didn't necessarily care about changing the rules of our culture or shining lights on the dark, hypocritical corners of society. They wanted to laugh, be with their friends and have a drink. If they weren't there buying tickets and booze and shitty, stale bar food there wouldn't be a club in the first place. And Lenny and Richard would just be some really funny homeless guys.

So thank you, beer-swilling crowds. You make it possible for me to do something I love. No matter how much you may suck, nor how much you may hate everything I say or do, I will always love you, just for showing up and spending your money.

Next week will be my one year anniversary of doing comedy, and I'll be hosting at the Loony Bin all week, doing my level best to sell some beer.

Come see me.

In the meantime, check out my set from Tulsa last week.



Or download

There Are Worse Ways For A Guy To Spend His Time

My blog turns 150 posts-old today.

Hoo. Ray.

I've been at this since January 11th, 2005, which means my relationship with bible belt babylon has outlasted any job I've ever held and any relationship I've ever been in. That's kind of sad. A friend of mine said that I should do it for a living if I really liked it that much. I'd really like to, I think. If I were to do that, I'd have to shy away from the pointless self-indulgence that I've come to rely on. I would need content, at regular intervals, and it would have to be good. Well, I'll give it a shot.

Also, I've decided to add advertisements to the site. I'm such a whore.

To make up for that bit of unpleasantness, I'm holding a contest. I recently commissioned some silicone bracelets with an inspiring message, and I'm going to give some away. If you can guess what number I'm thinking about, post it as a comment. You'll need to leave your email address, too. Winners will be chosen, like the number, completely at random. I'll probably give out three or four. And you don't have to actually guess what number I'm thinking about to win. Just, whoever asks, basically. Or whoever is closest.

Finally, some housekeeping: I will be performing 2-3 times next week.
Tuesday is Open Mic Night at Othello's in Norman, again from 9:30 - 11:30ish. Bradchad will be hosting! It's free!
Wednesday, if all goes well, I will be at the Loony Bin's Open Mic for the triumphant return of Joel David. Call ahead if you're going! 405.293.4242! Tell 'em you want the Myspace promo and it's free! Tell 'em you want to see me and it will make me happy!
Thursday I'll be the first act at the University of Oklahoma's Comedy Fight Night at the Union. It starts at 8:00 and runs until 10:00. It's free!
It's going to be a busy week.

But inexpensive, at least.