Pretty absent minded

I was waiting in line to use a bathroom at a Sheetz, recently.  It was me, two other guys, and one of the guys' wife.  Eventually one of the guys gets sick of waiting so he goes into the women's bathroom rather than continuing to wait for the men's. 

All this time I'm completely spaced out, having only gotten about four hours of sleep, and having just made a two hour round-trip.

The lady starts gawking like someone just had a revelation.  "You know what that is forward thinking!"  She goes on to say "whenever the women's bathroom isn't free, I just go ahead and use the men's room!"

And me, wanting to contribute, just kind of woozily blurts out: "yeah same." 

Grow up...wait no don't

My last post was a verbatim copy/paste from a facebook conversation with one Joseph Kurczewski, I was not attempting to be artsy.  I feel like I need to let all two of my readers know this, just so your opinion(s) of me will not drop.

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Kids are a lot more forgiving than adults are.  The shit we used to get away with doing to our friends as kids, and still keep them as friends, would never fly as adults.  For example I punched my best friend in the dick when I was in 4th grade.  We still talk.

If I punched my friend Jessi in the dick, her and I would totally not be friends anymore.

Everything in cycles.  The means are different, but the ends are the same: babies shit their pants and then start crying.  As opposed to some sixteen year old emo kid that cries so hard he shits his own pants.   

We turn eight, and for ten blissful years until we are 18, we can basically take any amount of shit from our friends and still be friends with them.  Then, as "young adults" something happens: we start to think highly of ourselves, develop self-esteem, and that fucks everything up!

I lost a friend because people told him that I said, behind his back, that he is creepy at clubs.  If we were twelve, I could walk up to him, twist his nipples, call him a shit-faced cunt-stain to his face, then call his dead mother a whore, and the next day we'd play Street Fighter Two together and his biggest complaint would be that I abuse jump kicks.

As kids we don't read anything into actions, we just accept it.  We didn't waste our time getting pissed about "could be"s.  If I don't reply to a text from some girl, she will get all worked up making assumptions like I'm mad at her, or ignoring her, and get all indignant.  You know what she'd do if we were kids?  Get distracted by Rug Rats and instantly forget.  It would be AWESOME if that worked on women at my age.  "Well yes I know that I forgot your birthday but hey look Rocko's Modern Life is on!"

New strategy

Me

im going to change my approach

on my blog im going to write short punchlines, no longer than 2-3 sentences per joke

im going to build around it as i speak

when i practice

that way i won't get too detailed

and the delivery will be more natural

so ill have raw jokes written out, but ill develop the delivery as me

not as the written me

which i think will work a whole lot better for finding my own voice

Dissecting the Routine

I realize that my writing style does not translate very well to the spoken word.  I attempted to speak out my routine from yesterday, and it isn't that it wasn't funny, its that it wasn't funny often enough.  Typically a story-routine has a big build up, and that climax either delivers or it doesn't.  My story has several build ups that are worth a chuckle, and a couple more that may be worth slightly more than that.  

What does this mean for the routine?  I need to be less wordy.  Not the "using big words" type of the wordy, but the "taking more than one sentence to say I need to be less wordy."

I went through the routine and broke it up from paragraphs into shorter "idea segments" that seem to work better as tangents for the sake of a crowd.  I've had my writing style complimented before, but the issue here that I have a difficult time keeping at the forefront of my material generation, is that audiences have a much shorter attention span then someone who has committed him/herself to reading an article.  

No one is committed to laughing at me, I have to sell them on it as soon as I can.

Fat Kid Disease

[Potential Bit]

I did not always have this svelte physique that you see towering before you, right now.

No, for the longest time I was a fat kid.  I think this is something a lot of you can identify with.  I bet, also, that you were fat for the same reason I was: your metabolism was slow, and genetics were not on your side.  So what the hell, knowing that, it is ok to eat three pounds of hot wings for dinner and wash it all down with a pizza.

It was also ok to melt down star bursts in a bowl and then sprinkle skittles in it to make what I affectionately refer to as "skittle soup."  *Wait for disgust* I know, it's completely unacceptable!  But after all that, it must have been the metabolism.

Everybody is a nutritionist.  Ever notice that about people?  How they love to give unsolicited advice on most things in spite of having no knowledge on those things?

When I went on the Atkins diet in college, I heard the same thing: "you can't get skinny on that diet."  Oh yeah, stranger?  Why is that?  "It isn't healthy!"  The validity of that diet notwithstanding, guess who would bestow this insight?  Don't actually guess, the question is a rhetorical set-up:

Some pale soggy land-beast, exactly--he would take a moment to stop eating doritos to fill me in on how unhealthy I was being.

Not that I don't appreciate free diet advice, but I'd come to that person for some pointers on how to squeeze large objects through small openings, not healthy eating.  Although I'll never have the large-in-small problem in the future (*ba-dom-chi*).  For those of you that don't get it I'm making fun of my own penis.

If someone approached me and said "hey man, I'm thinking of going out into the dating world."  Which is improbable in the first place, since when I'm not at work I can be found in my parents' basement organizing Magic the Gathering cards, I would not, unprompted after his statement, say: "cool man, but you'll never get anywhere with the opposite sex by being handsome and financially successful."

Because then he would stand there glowering at me, in his nice tailored-suit, fiddling with the car keys to his new BMW, smelling like a man who showers, the nerve, and think to himself "look at this smug bastard over here!" 

Thankfully most of my close friends have liberal arts degrees, so being financially successful is not something we will ever have to concern ourselves with.

Would Donald Trump ask a homeless guy how to invest his money?  Decidedly not!  Would a homeless guy offer Donald Trump advice?  Hell no!  Even though, in this economy, boxes are becoming much more viable options than houses.

Growing up fat has made me privy to certain "diseases" that many of you are not aware of.  Ha-ha, no; not diabetes!  There is no walk-for-awareness for these diseases.

I'd like to make you aware of them, though.  To raise awareness of what fat-kids have to suffer through in this obesity epidemic that our country is binge-eating its way through:

Bacon lung.

You heard me: bacon lung.  It is a debilitating condition that occurs when a fat kid gets over-zealous about eating bacon, eats it too fast, and literally breathes the bacon down his wind pipe.  Oh God, the price of our chubby little hubris is so high...The following several minutes are a depressing display; the fatty will hack and wheeze, shooting half-chewed bacon every direction.  His eyes a-water with a combination of sweat and tears.  The cure in the event of a baconocalypse such as this is to drown the problem in chocolate milk.

I had an awful case of the bacon lung, once.  After I finished choking my life out, I returned to the table to finish the rest of the bacon.  

Gooseitis.

The grand big-brother of asthma, the slayer of fat kids. Picture this: you're playing kick ball on the playground, you and all your friends finish your game, and everyone runs inside to get to the water fountain first.  You're all panting normally.  You know "hu hu" panting, like people pant.  Then you hear it..."HOOOOOOOOOOONK."  Everyone looks around, perplexed.  "What in the fuck is that?"  Then you hear it again: "HOOOOOOOOOOONK."  It is the way Sammy pants after exercise: "HONK HONK HONK."

I have absolutely no formal education in physiology, but I'm fairly sure that it's just a fat-person mating call. 

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Transition to another line of joke from here.  Two examples is enough.
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Great Innovators

[Potential Bit.  This one is more than likely going to make it into my act.  I first used it completely on the fly in an Irish Pub in Boston while my friends and I were taking a break from a video game convention.  I do not know how it came up, but the premise was so amusing to me that I just ran with it.]

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New innovations are completely befuddling.  Who would have thought, before Thomas Edison, of using light bulbs rather than candles?  The theory of relativity?  That is some out-of-the-box shit if I ever did read it.  The thing all of these past innovations have in common is that they have somehow benefited mankind, and advanced us as a species.  So I would just accept the innovation and blissfully employ it to enhance my life, never considering for a second: "what was this person thinking that led to this innovation?"  The marvel of thought behind these innovations has been beyond my grasp. 

I guess what I'm building up to is: has anyone ever motor-boated some titties?

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Curve ball!  That is what we call it, in the biz, where I completely misdirect my audience.  Other examples of misdirection are that you probably think I'm retarded right now.  Guess what?  I'm not.

I'm sure you've all heard of it, but just in case you haven't: the motor-boat is a deft sexual maneuver where, during a heated moment of passion, the guy, or guy-identified girl (lesbian) plunges head-first into those boobies and just goes like "agubububububu."  Imagine me doing my best impression of a guy motor-boating some big'ol boobs.  I assure you it is a spectacle.   

Who thought this was a good idea?  Is there some guy named Chet Snider, which by the way is the best most-stereotypical dude-brah name I could throw out there spur of the moment, anyway though: is there some guy named Chet Snider who will go down in the history books as the first innovator to think: "You know, what the hell, I'm gonna polish these tits with my face?!"  I take issue with this line of thought for several reasons:

First and foremost: what in the hell, Chet?!  Excuse me, ma'am *speak at a female audience member* assume that you find me attractive and we are in the bedroom doing what I like to call: "kissing a lot."  You're obviously into it.  Like, I'm doing the thing with the tongue where I'm like "glomp momph" and you're saying things like "oh God this is so much better than the Lifetime station," a compliment that, by the way, I never get tired of hearing when I'm kissing a girl a lot.  So say I'm thinking like Chet, and I just go for it.  I break from our kissing and I just dive right in there, all "agubububububu" on your boobs.  Would you instantly stop the fun kissing time or would you let it awkwardly drag out for a few more minutes before having a surprise-period and asking me to leave?

That is basically the worst idea since me asking my girl friend if she wants to role play as a wizard and an apprentice.  Wizard role plays are ripe with innuendo.  I digress, though.

The motor-boat is not conducive to future sexual experiences, and it is certainly nothing to brag about later.  Guys brag.  We do.  I hate to tell you women our secret, but we will often go to our friends and point out attractive women we both know and say.  "Hey man, guess what I did to her?"  It's not as lewd as you all think.  We give multiple choice options.  "Did I: a. Bone her, b. Lick her face, c. Massage her feet, or d. Shave her rampant back hair with a shard of glass?"  Ok I guess it is as lewd as you think.  

What kind of bragging rights does a guy who motor-boats have?  "Hey guys guess what I did?  I head-banged between that girl's tits and babbled nonsense while I did it!"  Even all the other guys will look at him like he is nuts.  Don't get me wrong, we will all think it is hilarious because, well, it is.  But we would all be thinking "why on earth would a person..."   

And do you know why we would think that?  Because there are so many more actually awesome things that a person is in a position to do if they have the opportunity to motor-boat!  The last thing I'd be thinking about if I see a pair of orb-like ta-tas is: "I wonder what it would feel like if I hit those things with my face."

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I really need to prune this skit a bit, and figure out which gags I want to keep and which I don't.  This is so much better when spoken aloud.  I have rehearsed it over and over, and I think that it won't really be allowed to shine until I actually interact with the audience when I do it.  

It's probably the first stand up "joke" I came up with, and its the one I'm most familiar with, but at the same time I think it will be the hardest to do correctly.  Because everything has to flow perfectly with the audience interaction, and if it doesn't, I'll have to improvise. 

Ghosts!

[The following is my first potential bit I've posted, here.  I'm flushing the subject matter, not writing it as I would say it.  This is to serve as a reminder to myself of something I could use, and as practice.  Constructive criticism welcome (use your discretion), but do not tell me what you would add--it's not that I don't have faith in you, it is just that at that point it has become your joke, not mine]

Ghosts are hilarious.

There is a comedic television show that I've been peripherally aware of, but never actually sat down and watched until tonight; it is called "Ghost Adventures." It is about three fraternity guys who walk around in places at night, record random noises, video tape things with no lighting, and then extrapolate that these things are ghosts and other super natural occurrences.  Now I use "comedic" loosely, as many of my more astute readers are no doubt aware, so since there is an absence of proper alliteration in the written word I'll go right ahead and say that this show is meant to be documentary in nature, and not hilarious.    

I honestly do not know where to get started making fun of things.

The show almost makes fun of itself to the point where I think it is nothing but one big prank on society.  Like one day the cast is just going to start an episode where they stare straight at the camera and say: "A-are you kidding?!  You're still watching?  Holy..."  When I say "makes fun of itself," I do not of course mean that when they take a picture of a bicycle leaning against a wall and claim it is a hell hound, then jovially chuckle about that and say "whatta bunch of knuckleheads we are, to assume such a thing!"  I mean they position themselves as ghost experts and then say things like, and I quote:

"You have to understand, when you're dealing with ghosts, you're dealing with people who were once alive."
~Zak Bagans, ghost expert.

If this is all it takes to pass as an expert in one field or another (rephrasing what something is and then attempting to make a poignant point about it), then consider me an expert in just about every field known to man:

"You have to understand, when you're dealing with cars, you are dealing with boxes that people sit inside of to get from one place to another efficiently."
~Matt Caron, car expert.

"A vagina, after we break it down to its essence, is really nothing more than a hollow emplacement that one can put one's penis into.  Please do your best to understand this."
~Matt Caron, vagina expert.

"You have to understand, when you're dealing with me, you're dealing with a person who I am."
~Matt Caron, Matt Caron expert.

I think three examples is enough, but know that I could go on with this.  So, regarding my question of a prank on society: are the creators of the show the ridiculous ones for creating this, or are we the ridiculous ones for watching and believing it?  This question is rhetorical but I'm afraid there are some people that watch the show reading/[listening], and so: us, we are ridiculous.  We could be doing any number of things; reading books, playing video games, listening to music...fuckin', we could watch our dogs lick themselves and walk away from the experience wiser and more well-rounded than we would if we watched Ghost Adventures!

I do want put more in here, but I have other obligations tomorrow so I have to take off.  Other topics include: method of investigation, validity of claims, integrity of crew.  What I'd ask from you all, assuming I provide a good description of the show and what happens in it, what is the identifiability of the show to the average crowd?  A joke is only good if the crowd cares about the subject matter.  So perhaps I'll have to focus on something more vague and use Ghost Adventures as a means to highlight that?  Let me know.

And like a jackass...

I have committed myself to doing stand-up at Magooby's Joke House on the 29th of July.  I have a little over a month to ready my routine.  You know all that stuff I said about not being that worried about bombing?  Complete lie.  I am a liar, and God has called my bluff.  Which God?  The right one, obviously.

Here is the deal: it is a "bringer" show, so I have to bring people with me in order to stand up on stage.  It is actually a pretty sweet system.  I get to go on stage without paying for anything except two drinks, and all I have to do is bring at least five people with me, and those people need to order at least two drinks.  This means that even if I bring all my Indian friends my most cheap friends, the club is looking at making around 15-20 bucks a person without actually charging anymore than $7 per ticket.  

In the interest of full disclosure I will say to you all that this would probably be more of a favor and less of a fun trip.  Steve Gimbel, a comedian who has done a couple of shows at this same location put it better than I would: "family and friends will only be excited the first time to drive to Baltimore, pay a good bit of money, and sit through several hours of people trying (most unsuccessfully) to be funny."  Stu, this being the case, I will pay for your drinks the entire night if you spring seven bucks to attend.  This is a once in a please-come-see-me-be-funny-I-will-beg-forever-for-this opportunity.

See what I did there?  Me either.

Ack oh goodness! (Also seen in this post: I abuse parentheses)

I'm probably going to regret this, massively, in the biggest way, but:

"Magooby's Joke House Presents Our "New Talent" Showcase And Competition

Are you brand new to comedy, a seasoned "open miker" or just starting out as a paid pro? Maybe you're the funniest guy or gal in your office. Whatever your level, Magooby's Joke House wants to see what you've got!

On Thursday, July 1st we'll be holding another NEW TALENT SHOWCASE AND COMPETITION. The funniest performer of the evening will win a $100 cash prize plus a booking for one of our regular weekend shows. Judging will be based on a combination of audience vote and jury panel.

Doors open at 7:15, show starts at 8:00 and tickets are only $7.

There are only a limited number of performer spots available and bookings are first come first served. Email bernie@magoobys.com for more details."

I have e-mailed Bernie, and I have requested information.  Stand back, because I'm pushing the envelope with my brash actions (next I'll wear a yellow shirt).  Now, I don't know whether or not this is the best idea (setting a date as soon as July 1st), but I think that it would give me the extra push that I need.  I thrive on pressure, and as such I always do my best studying with a fat person sitting on me.  I am a literalist.  

If Bernie gets back to me as says "sure thing, you can come," then I will probably sign up and damn the torpedoes--"damn the torpedoes" is a saying that I use without fully understanding its meaning, but I do the same thing with other figures of speech like "full of beans, gimme a break," "forty winks," and the less well-known "ha, of course I don't have herpes you crazy bitch."  I don't know if I'm ready, but at this point I am having a difficult time caring.  I've talked about this for so long, and I feel like I'll just keep on talking about it unless something jolts me out of my comfort zone and forces me to muster my funny and go for it.

All my life I've needed someone to keep on my back and either encourage me, or drill me, until I actually do something.  I want a dead-line, I want something [other than new Magic the Gathering cards] to look forward to while I write my routine.  Before I saw this, I thought "sometime by August I guess," but now I'm entertaining the idea of starting sooner.  Why wait?  After all, I'm already hilarious depressed hilarious! 

Overcoming "The Bomb"

Something that I've read a lot of comedians have to learn to deal with and overcome is the inevitable "bombing."  Some people have different terms for it ("dyin' out there," etc.), call it what you will: bombing is when you screw up.

Either because the crowd isn't on your side, you are having a bad night, or your routine simply isn't funny, whatever the reason for your bomb, it equates to one thing: you are getting booed off stage, or walking off to crickets.  Apparently this is something that needs explanation to aspiring comedians.  I can't remember where I'd heard it, but at some point in my life the word "bomb" came up in a negative context:

-"You bombed that soccer game;  A little more hustle and we could have had it!"
-"You bombed that first communion;  A little more hustle and we could have had it!"

I'll probably rethink my stance on this once I actually have to step on stage, and have to take stock of all my preparation in the moments before I do so.  Right now it's easy to think to myself, "I've fumbled in front of audiences before, this will not be a problem," but forgetting my violin part to Colors of the Wind, as made famous by the movie Pocahontas, when I'm in third grade, is worlds different than this.

Methods of preparation to prevent a bomb:

1. Tape my performance, verbatim, and rework act repeatedly before ever actually performing for an audience.
2. Construct and memorize a thorough routine with multiple avenues per joke.
3. Practice practice practice.

Honestly, I think that if I put enough work into my act I'll be able to have a pretty good idea as to whether or not it will succeed.  I'm sure I can make my routine work, and I'm prepared to bomb to do so.  It would be neat to say I never did, though.

"What's the deal" with this blog?

My name is Caron, and I'm an aspiring stand-up comedian.  I don't know when the time came that my token response of: "My ideal job is to be a stand-up comedian" changed from a half-hearted joke to a sincere expression.  Ever since it has, however, I've fostered the notion that with enough hard work, tenacity, and tear-soaked blowjobs I could actually stand-up on stage and be laughed at.

Making people laugh has always been a priority of mine when I've interacted with others.  Right up there with making eye-contact and shifting at awkward angles to conceal my inexplicit erections.  I love the satisfaction of making a good joke, and the feeling I get when other people agree that it's good (resulting in a chuckle, laugh, snicker, stifled whimper, etc.).

This blog is here to tell the tales of my successes, failures, and to be a testing ground for my routine(s).  Don't laugh at me; not yet, anyway.  Wait until I'm on stage, in front of you, like I want to be.