Last night I went with a few peeps to see a work friend of theirs try his hand at standup for open-mic night at the new Pittsburgh Improv. I've never been to an open-mic night before, and it was interesting, to say the least.
First of all, a lot of the people were FAT! The emcee, most of the guys, etc. We're talkin' BIG. I felt bad for most of the comics, because the crowd was pretty lifeless. I think they should make those amateur nights a 5-drink minimum, instead of two. And they have to be shots. And everyone has to finish their shots before the first person goes on.
All the first-timers were clearly nervous, so I give them some slack, but a lot of them were just bad. Same tired jokes you hear everwhere; my wife this, masturbation that, blah blah blah.
One or two of them were fairly clever. There was one big fat guy (who was a dead ringer for Horatio Sanz (at least Horatio Sanz in that Christopher Walken "Cowbell" sketch)) that had some good jokes, and a good sense of timing along with a deadpan delivery.
"I like to use lubricated condoms 'cause I'm lazy."
(patting his ample belly) "Don't worry ladies... it's mostly backed up cum. A few loads and I'll look like Freddie Prinze, Jr. Okay, Freddie Prinze, Sr."
There was only one girl, who told a long, rambling and extremely un-funny story about getting drunk with two of her friends on the south side, which probably would have only been interesting to her and the two friends she got drunk with. I'm sure that guys at parties that were trying to sleep with her were telling her "Oh, man... that is the funniest story _ever_. You should go to a comedy club and tell that story. Wow, you're really hot." (which she wasn't, by the way...)
One guy got up and did some really awful jokes about Loony Tunes characters, and completely crashed and burned. I guess when your first joke is about having anal sex and turning your ass into a pile of chipped ham, there's nowhere to go but down from there. Thankfully, since he was talking so fast, he ran through his 5 minute act in about 2 1/2 minutes, and said "that's all I've got" and stepped down. Cue the uncomfortable silence.
The friend of a friend we came to see went on near the end of the night, and he pretty much killed. He told a funny joke about how the Red Cross could find bin Laden if they wanted him to volunteer for a blood drive, as well as a litany of cursing at the end to fit in with the other comics, all of whom were "working blue".
The last guy was something else, entirely. He wasn't scheduled; apparently he was a friend-of-a-friend of the emcee guy, so he just did a "walk-on". He went up and did a joke or two, I can't even remember what they were about. Then he did this weird Mr. Rodgers bedtime story thing, but it was the Starr Report that he was basing it on. It was like listening to a letter from Penthouse Forums written by a mental patient... all sorts of stilted references to various womens' private areas, nasty jabs at Bill/Hillary/Monica, etc. This guy was clearly crazy.... like black government helicoptors crazy. Thankfully the emcee guy forced him off about half a page into it, but you could see that he had at least two full close-lined pages of his manifesto, written in penmanship even worse than my own, which is pretty damn bad. After the show I went and talked to the emcee about it a little bit, wondering who the hell that guy was, and also to say that the comedians of 1999 called, and they want their material back. Sheesh.
Some excitement for the lunchtime hour today. I went out and grabbed some Boston Market, and when I got back Pat and I were going to go up to our little "outdoor cafe spot":http://feralboy.textamerica.com/default.asp?r=15904 behind the building. I approached Pat, who was smoking by his car.
bq.. "We might want to eat indoors today."
"Oh, why's that?"
"Well, because it looks like it might rain, and there's a 4 foot snake up there."
Saturday night both of my sisters and I went down to Philly to visit Ryan. We went to the scary bar right across the street from 
On Sunday I tried the whole 
