Jackass Time

I can’t believe it’s already Friday. Where does all the time go? I haven’t been able to get up in almost a week and I’m missing the stage. I spend most of my day in front of my computer working for the man and my nights, well, that’s when I get an opportunity to get up in front of people and act like a total jackass — and I’m missing it.

You see, I’ve had to put away my comic card this week because I’ve been busy on another endeavor. It’s a lawsuit against my former employer and it’s not looking good. Basically, I’m suing the CEO personally instead of the company, on grounds that the company is not legitimate. The Judge kindly reminded me that she’ll “…be the judge of whether the company is legitimate or not.” Ouch! I also kept referring to her as “ma’am” instead of “Your Honor.” I’m not scoring points with the Judge at the moment.

I spent the past week preparing for this case, which has left absolutely no time to write jokes. Well, I’ve written a few jokes that I liked, but I haven’t had my jackass time and it’s killing me.

I like calling open mics my “jackass time,” because it gives me a chance to make noise and create stupid analogies all while wearing a silly face and dancing a little dance. Just kidding, I don’t actually do that sort of stuff in my act, but I’d like to. I probably should. Shit, it’s my jackass time.

All kidding aside, I’ve spent way too much time getting this stupid case together – which, at the end of the day, was a complete waste of time. The good news is it’s all over. Starting tonight, I will reclaim what’s rightfully mine, and that is any stage with a microphone and an amplifier. If I ever go homeless, I will have to make sure my shopping cart is equipped with plenty of notepads, pens, a microphone, amplifier and a diehard battery to power it all.

I think one of the reasons why I’m so attracted to standup is that it helps me keep my head straight. I really hate my day job. It robs me of all my time and energy and my will to live. You see, I log reality TV footage all day. The life of a reality star is simply too boring and is completely influenced by writers, editors, producers and network heads. Sometimes, I watch the footage and ask myself, who has it worse?

Michael Vick

The neighborhood I now live in is, by far, the nicest neighborhood I’ve lived in since I moved to Los Angeles. It is quiet. Not too many hobos pissing on the buildings. Just a few Armenians. I should love it but I don’t. They say that you don’t know what you don’t know so I shouldn’t beat myself up over the fact that I did not foresee just how annoying living among Hollywood hipsters would be. Relax, I am not going to write a column about hipster clothing. No point in beating a dead horse on how I feel about Ed Hardy T-shirts. I want to write about a growing trend I have been seeing in the hipster community. A trend which, if allowed to go on unchecked, could lead to a major problem. What is this growing trend, you ask? What could Hollywood hipsters possibly be doing which is so dangerous? Well I’ll tell you. Pet Adoption.

That’s right, I said it and I’ll explain it too. But before I do, I should preface my explanation by saying that I own two dogs which have been adopted. I like dogs. In fact, I like a lot of animals. I can’t call myself an animal lover because calling yourself an animal lover implies that you love ALL of them. I look at animals much in the same way I look at Rush Limbaugh fans. For every friendly, agreeable one you meet, there are a hundred others that, if provoked, would eat your testicles. My dogs are friendly. My dogs are small. My dogs were free. The way adopted pets should be. I wouldn’t pay for a pet if you paid me. If the hipsters in my neighborhood went my route I wouldn’t say anything. It’s not so much THAT they are adopting, it’s WHAT they are adopting.

Ever since Michael Vick was cast into the media spotlight for running a dog fighting ring, there has been a pouring of public outcry for the dogs in these rings. Organizations have been set up to take these pit bulls out of that lifestyle and send them to the home of a family looking to add a little love and a lot of adrenaline to their drab little lives. It’s one of those ideas that look fantastic on paper; like communism. Unfortunately, also like communism, it’s not very practical for a twenty-five year old living in a one bedroom with a guitar and a dream to be on American Idol.

These are trained attack dogs. They’ve tasted blood. They smell fear. They’ve killed. And they’re being walked by a 110 lbs lady boy on an iphone. Do you know how helpless it feels to be in the kill zone of Cujo-on-steroids and the only thing holding him back is an effeminate neo-emo douche bag trying to display dominance? “Casper, sit!” Fuck you, McKenna! That’s too much dog for you! Just because you want to feel good about yourself by thinking you can rehabilitate these dogs, doesn’t mean I should have to feel like Andy Dufrain walking through Shawshank. These dogs need wide open spaces where they can run and play and kill things that don’t have social security numbers. They don’t belong in Hollywood.

And don’t give me the old, “they’re misunderstood! They love people,” spiel. These dogs have seen some shit. These dogs are disturbed. They’re like the Vietnam vets of the animal kingdom. Do you know what went on in that dog fighting ring? The things they saw? They’ve seen bitches getting strapped in rape stands as the males took turns pounding that ass and that was just Michael Vick’s parties. Imagine what he did to the dogs! POW! (I couldn’t help it)

Now don’t get me wrong here. I don’t think they should be put down either. In fact, I think the whole Humane Society is bullshit. There is nothing humane about it. Most shelters hold the dogs for about 5 days before they’ll euthanize them. That sucks. Basically, it means that young dogs and cute dogs will get a reprieve through adoption but the older, less attractive ones get the needle. Imagine if Hollywood worked like that. Imagine what casting calls would be like with that standard. 5 days, that’s all you get. If you’re not cute enough to get a role, “sorry, there are just too many actors in this town and we’re overcrowded.” I’ll bet you would want to be let out to fend for yourself. Maybe take an Improv class. And that’s exactly what I think we should do with these dogs. Let ‘em go. Animal Planet is always pulling at our heart strings telling us about the endangered North American wolf population. Well, let’s see what nature can do. Domestic dogs have the same DNA make up as wolves. Send these dogs into the wild, see what happens. Is that cruel? Fuck no it’s not cruel. You were going to kill them anyway and you know what? Some will make it. I love the idea of seeing what a couple generations of wolf / chihuahua fucking would breed. Sing that fucking song, Sarah McLachlan.

Ladies Duck

Misogyny in comedy. It exists. Some may even argue that it’s prevalent. Sure, it doesn’t parallel gangsta rap, or even old school Country-Western music, but sit through any random open mic and it will eventually surface. Whether it be in the form of an ill-conceived rape joke, a strangled hooker joke, a joke that implies that women are ignorant, or just a passive-aggressive exhibit of blind anger toward the opposite sex- I’ve seen it all in my many months of stand-up. Usually, the comic in question is as comfortable around a vagina as John Wayne Gacy. There is a fine line between taking a “taboo” topic and exposing the absurdity in it and using the stage as a platform to maliciously attack a group of people that you happened to be frustrated with. The latter sounds a little Klan-ish.

Personally, I love women. Almost everything about them. I am by no means a playboy. In fact, I can count the number of women I have slept with on one hand. A hand that has been maimed in a band saw accident, at that. Which baffles me, because I’m hung like a horse. A horse that has also been maimed in a band saw accident. I have a gap in my teeth, so cunnilingus is usually preceded by a half an hour of convincing the girl that her clit will not be in danger. Point being: I’m not deprived, but I’m not immersed either. I think my point of view is rooted in mutual ground.

Furthermore, I’m not completely innocent of pushing the envelope, as far as the subject goes, with my own material. I have a bit where I declare that “I refuse to hit women…unless they’re pregnant. I’m all for child abuse, and I likes to get a head start. I walk around Target, crushing stomachs whack-a-mole style. “Pardon me, Ma’am. Nothing personal. This is between me and the little pretard inside of you.” I’d say about thirty percent of the women I have done this bit in front of look at me like I just took away their right to vote. The rest of the ladies, and most of the men, just chuckle at the absurdity of the premise. I’m not talking about specific jokes. Jokes are harmless. I’m questioning the attitudes and personalities behind the comics that have a visible chip on their shoulder.

I swear, some of the open mics that I have done must have been located next door to a court-ordered anger management class. I don’t like feeling like I have just witnessed a fraternity style gang rape being committed against an imaginary girl. A lot of these angry comics end a typical night by relieving their sexual frustrations into the still-moist sock fresh off of their foot (a surefire way to contract Athletes Cock, by the way) and they use the stage, a stage intended for comedy, to vent about the hand they were dealt in life and what they chose to do with it. If any of these Romeo’s were to go through with the rape that their act revolves around, they would probably pay their victim afterward out of force of habit. When Andy Kauffman wrestled women, it was so bizarre and subversive that it came off as purely entertaining. A far cry from the hostile overtones of an all male open mic. Some bitter, creepy, awkward-vibe producing antagonist with a grudge against the no-financial-strings-attached pussy that has always eluded him is seldom funny or entertaining. This isn’t as much of an issue on the professional level. It’s hard to be main-stream when you alienate half of your potential audience right off the bat. Also, this isn’t an issue that exists solely inside the walls of the comedy club. Society as a whole has a concerning tendency to look the other way when shitty behavior is exhibited; a diminishing concern for human decency, if you will.

Kobe Bryant commits anal rape, but C’mon! He’s the best player in the NBA. Sometimes you have to break in the back door, we understand. Chris Brown goes off on his girlfriend like a startled chimp. Beats, chokes and bites her before dumping her on the side of the road like she was an old sofa. Are women outraged? Probably, but not like they should be. One sixteen year old girl told me that Rhiana had it coming. Dumb bitches still show up in droves to Brown’s concerts and they still support his albums to a fanatic degree. As one enlightened lady put it, “any girl ignorant enough to buy a Chris Brown record deserves to get slapped with it.” Thanks for the line, grandma.

I will never understand our contradicting morals and standards. I cannot help but to let out a long-winded “what the fuck?” (Not WTF. Outrage is too combustible for abbreviation.) If Tiger Woods would have beaten his wife, rather than cheating on her, his character would have been demonized to a much lesser extent and he would be able to come out of hiding and get on with his life already. I’m not going to lose any sleep over the any of this; I just wish that we could all come to a consensus. That we could all agree that what’s right is right, and what’s wrong (i.e. women-beating, non-consensual penetration of any orifice, war, Republicanism, etc.) is wrong.

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Conan & Jay

Pun perfected. I wouldn’t normally say this about a privileged wonder(bread) kid that has spent the better part of the last two decades raking in gross amounts of money in a dream job setting, but Conan O’Brien deserves better. Better than a beaten up, out of touch, spineless banality factory of a network. NBC, which apparently stands for Never Be Comical, is abandoning all faith in a performer that has performed consistently excellent year in and year out. The Peacock is in last place, and they are exerting the type of attitude that might lead one to believe that that’s right where they should stand. Shit belongs in the sewer, if I recall the popular nursery rhyme correctly. When you strategically produce mediocrity in favor of an alternative that is purely and undoubtedly better, when you operate under that type of ass-backwards mentality, you cannot expect extraordinary results.

In the family of Tonight Show hosts, integrity must skip a generation. If Johnny Carson lacked charisma and relevance, and had been asked to step down “early”, I confidently speculate that he would have taken a gracious bow in lieu of lurking in the shadows of Prime-time like a crazed jackal. We’ve all heard the story of Jay Leno hiding in the board room closet, eavesdropping while NBC executives discussed the fate of the show. Almost twenty years later, and Jay is still in that closet. With all due respect to Mr. Leno, he is resembling less a seasoned stand-up comedy veteran and more an attention starved, network poster-manchild Mongoloid that houses an extra chromosome in his abnormal chin. Nevermind the fact that Jay has all but buried the very platform that he built his career with, essentially cutting the rope that he climbed to the top with; but the man just isn’t very funny anymore. He’s like what Bob Sagget would be if Bob had completely said “fuck it.”

For years, I would reluctantly catch snippets of Leno pandering to his vanilla audience while awaiting a more honest comedic effort in O’Brien. When the planned switch was announced in 2004, I was elated to see someone genuinely talented being awarded for all the right reasons. The time came and all seemed right. Conan’s Tonight Show was the double shot of Listerene that I needed to get the bad taste of Leno’s Tonight Show out my mouth. Five years and seven months of being mislead to the notion that the World was going to make sense. A hope that has been aborted by what has unfolded over the last couple of weeks. The ratings are in. It’s official. Up will be down, once again. I admire Conan for refusing to move the Tonight Show into a morning time slot. He seems to care more about NBC’s history than NBC does.

Conan will be out of the picture and Jay Leno will swoop in to transform the Tonight Show into the Good Night Show. A fitting metaphor, considering the age demographic that comprises Leno’s core audience. Older, calmer, less-impulsive, set in their way, less likely to be responsive to new advertising. Got to keep a group like that appeased. Not only is it an issue of pissing off the kids that buy the shit that is being peddled, effectively losing the respect of a new generation, but I notice that the smarter audience tends to be down with CoCo. His line of humor is very much appreciated within the alternative comedy scene. A more likely Leno viewer is a guy that doesn’t like to reach too far for his punch lines; or an overbearing housewife, with too much pent up energy, that laughs and makes annoying facial expressions every time she is even remotely kidding. You know the type. The “I’m just trying to keep shit off of my mind” type.

The Jay Leno Show didn’t fail because it wasn’t right for Primetime. It failed because it wasn’t right. It was uninspired. I dare you to watch it without once rolling your eyes. Jay’s going through creative menopause. His comedy eggs are drying up. The very idea of having respected professionals earn their plug is a pretentious idea that puts Jay and his show on some undeserved pedestal. The very idea that a guy that screwed David Letterman coming and Conan O’Brien going wants anyone to “earn” anything is suspect, to say the least. The main reason that Leno scores better numbers than Conan is pretty cut and dry. In a society where mediocrity is exalted, there are simply more people content with Leno’s C game than there are purists who desire a more deeply-layered talent like O’Brien. America is pumped so full of vapid horseshit that passes for entertainment, many people begin to prefer it. Further evidence that we are in a constant state of arrested development: Arrested Development was cancelled. Cleared out to make room for such programming as Are You Smarter Than a Cheese Grater? David Cross, no. Jeff Foxworth, yes. That is what the majority of the viewing audience wants. When, if ever, is the majority right about anything?

Anything that challenges the intelligence of the double digit I.Q. median that stays glued to the tube is feverishly swept under the rug. Meanwhile, a bi-polar teenager with wig lice and her dullard daddy pimp our youth with substandard, watered-down pop music and a television show that is “good for kids.” Just because a program is devoid of colorful language and hooker spit, doesn’t automatically make it good for kids. It just ensures that a new generation will pass down paralyzed standards to their shallow children.

So, that’s all that’s at stake here. The future quality of our art and entertainment. That’s all. NBC, the good folks that told us that Norm MacDonald isn’t funny (a claim made by Dickless Ebersol and backed by the network), will ring the last few years out of their comedy workhorse until any alternative with a credibility factor removes themselves from the equation. I’m sure big name talent will be bursting through the doors down at NBC Universal now that everyone has witnessed how team players are treated. The integrity of a storied franchise will be compromised for the sake of one man’s inflamed ego. So it will be. If all this is indicative of how things are going to be at NBC, then their immediate future is looking pretty bleak. On the other hand, the rainbow after the storm might prove to be worth all of this trouble. In the wake of such an onslaught of bullshit, it’s good to see it have the right effect on people. The outcry of support for the good guy is reassuring. So often, mediocrity triumphs quality and it goes virtually unnoticed. Maybe The Tonight Show with Conan O’Brien will serve as a martyr, perhaps it will not die in vain after all. Conan may end up with a product that is truly his own. He might take over Letterman’s spot in 2012 and make things interesting for all of us. Any business that would screw a good man so blatantly, doesn’t deserve good people in the first place. I cannot think of any puns that involve NBC and First Place.