i will be so good at comedy that i will be willing to try new jokes in the middle of showcase sets because they will be strong enough to work out there. i can’t wait for that day to come. i have so much new material that just needs to be worked the fuck out of, and no showcase audience should be subjected to it, but i am a self-conscious idiot doing it for the same 15 people that are at every open mic.
if i could have any superpower, it would be the power to give none of the fucks what people think about me.*edited to add: while i was in the shower preparing for my show tonight, it dawned on me that louis ck takes a year to come up with an hour and i am mad at my idiot brain for not being able to develop what turns out to be 30 solid minutes in the first 8 months i have been doing this. i really need to lighten up sometimes.
driving to work at 730 this morning, i see a man stumbling across my block with a ziploc bag containing an ice pack held up to his face, obscuring his left eye. he’s late fifties, early sixties and sporting disheveled hair with a mean 10 o’clock shadow.
me, yelling from car window as i slow down: sir, are you okay?
him: (continues to stagger, zig zagging across the street, not responding to my inquiry)
me, now stopped 10 feet away from him: sir, ARE YOU OKAY??
him, looking up at me confused and irritated as he pulls the bag away from his face: what???
me, perplexed by his anger: i was wondering if you were okay? do you need help?
him, even angrier than before: yeah, i’m fine. do YOU need help?!
me, as i realize it is not an ice pack in the bag but his fucking cell phone and he was in the middle of a call: no, i’m okay, thanks (hits accelerator hard).
immediate internal monologue as i drive away: it’s 65 degrees out and sunny. why is your cell phone in a plastic bag? ugh… i am an idiot.