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Okay… So It’ll Make Sense a Little While Later…

Well, poop. I’m a loser.

I got so worked up and nervous about remembering my standup material (you know, the nonsense I posted earlier?) that I went and forgot the stupid videocamera. No tape, no clip, nothing to show other people’s grandkids. Bupkis. What a friggin’ tool.

So, none of what I listed is gonna make any damned sense anytime in the immediate future. And for that, I’m truly sorry. (And embarrassed. And chagrined. And — how freaking brain-dead does a guy have to be to write about something he’s got to record, and then forget to take his camera an hour later? Bitches.)

Anyway, I apologize. My standup show at the Times didn’t get taped, so you won’t be able to see right away what all the ‘Frozen. Powdered. Dip‘ hoohah was all about. On the ‘silver lining’ tip, we comics were plying our trade tonight in front of approximately eight people, so the set wasn’t quite as smooth — or guffaw-riddled — as I might have liked. Still, a tape of playing to an almost-empty room would be better than no tape at all, right? Well… again, sorry. Maybe if I hadn’t made the shit so complicated, my brain would’ve had the extra bandwidth left over to remember the goddamned camera.

(I know. I’m a douche. I’ve got no excuse.)

Here’s all I can tell you, and then we’ll speak no more of this debacle — I’ll do the exact same set on February 4th at the Emerald Isle, and there will be more people there than tonight. And I’ll have lots of time to practice between now and then, so hopefully you’ll enjoy it more, anyway. You’ll just have to wait nearly two weeks to get it.

(Eh. In the meantime, I’ll hopefully get clips from Sunday’s ‘Two-Minute Marathon’ at the All Asia. Maybe that’ll tide you over. And actually, if I can cut away enough fat from tonight’s set, I may even be able to do the bit that requires memorizing all the shit I posted about earlier, and squeeze it in under two minutes. We’ll have to see.)

So, sometime soon my last post will make some sense, after all. (And hey, that’s more than most of my posts get, so that’s gotta be worth something.) Until then, make up your own explanation for the madness, or write a little vignette that includes it, or — you know, like a sane person — just forget about it until I can manage to get a relevant video clip online. *sigh*

Look, nobody ever said comics were smart, all right? And I did have some fun tonight, and got to hang with some really cool friends, standuppers and non-standuppers alike. So not all was lost, at least from my perspective.

But of course, that doesn’t change the fact that I’m an empty-headed brainless cod-weasel. And I don’t even know what that means, but I think it fits. So I’ll wear the ol’ dunce cap tonight, and can hopefully appease you soon with something amusing, either in print or video format. Hang in there. I’m sure something funny will show up here soon. Really.

(Hey! Stop looking at your watch, dude. That’s just damned rude!)

For now, I’m off to bed. I guess I’ll leave the ‘dead’ links up to shows that I can’t tape — I’ll even go back and add the last show at the Times that didn’t get recorded. (And at least that one wasn’t my fault.) Anyway, the presence of those grayed-out, inactive links just might shame me into never forgetting the videocam again. And maybe it’s not so important to you, I dunno — but I’d like to see how it went tonight. There’s really no way to tell when you’re onstage, with all the lights and adrenaline and the rotten fruit flying to and fro. (But mostly ‘to’, I’m sorry to say.)

So, I’m disappointed. The crowd was sparse, and the mic didn’t work quite right, and in the end, I didn’t quite get the sequence down the way I listed it earlier (though I was damned close, and nobody but you guys would know the difference). But it was still a ‘show‘, and so it’d be nice to have, even if it were a primer in ‘What Not to Do Onstage‘. I’m just starting out, folks — I can learn from anything, particularly mistakes.

Let’s just hope I learned something tonight, and duct-tape the frigging camera to my forehead the next time I head out the door to a club. Jeez, I really am a numbnuts. Sheesh.