Tag Archives: Stand-Up

Breakdown or Breakthrough?

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I am a tad worried. Today has been my second bad day in a row. Not entirely sure as to why, but usually I might have one, then plough on through it and be fine again. Two in a row leads me to believe that a third one tomorrow, could lead me to having a nervous breakdown, it is unchartered territory that I would be heading into, oh dear Lord.

Being honest, I am not entirely sure why the bugging/fed up/annoyed feeling is coming on all of a sudden. It might have something to do with small things building up, slowly but surely. For example, my iPod froze today out of the blue and has yet to unfreeze. That got my eye twitching and had me counting to ten for a good few bouts of ten seconds. Or the fact that it seems to me that I am the only person in my house who knows where to empty all the bins when they fill up, or that bins even have to be dumped when they are full to the brim. But that is maybe just me being picky. Maybe, for some reason today, the number of blog readers dipped and this annoyed me? Who knows? All trivial. 

However, I don’t think that was it today. Perhaps it has to do with me getting little sleep the past few days. I have it well highlighted and documented within this blog, of how my brain does not seem to work, or want to work for me anyways, during the day. Instead, the past few nights, it has taken up the nightshift, kicking into overdrive the minute I turn off the light and try to go to sleep. A flood of ideas for stand-up, scenes for the sitcom, songs to try out for DJ’ing, and potential websites have being coming to me in the past few nights. Unfortunately, I have taken to writing down every one, just in case one of them could seems good again when I wake up the next morning. In the light of day, meh, perhaps and ehh are my reactions at best, so far. Some sort of compromise will have to be agreed between my brain and I, us working different shifts and seemingly against each other will put an end to the relationship soon.

This morning I got about 10.30, shattered, but determined to be productive throughout the day after the bad day I had (or think I had anyways) yesterday. I made out my daily to-do list, and this is what set me off on the wrong note, I think. This was my actual list for the day…

1. Make out DJ playlist

2. Watch Champions League

3. DJ in the gym (it’s been a while, needed to keep the free buzz tipping over)

4. Do stand-up show

5. Buy birthday card for my Grandad

6. Go to the gym

7. Write the blog

8. Sleep

After re-reading this list, I got highly annoyed. Would you not? To me it was a fine to-do list you might have for a Saturday, or a day-off. However, not really a great one when you’re in L.A on a mission, not a Tuesday-I-must-be-productive to-do list. It is a list of hobbies, the only productive thing really is sending the birthday card home. The rest do not include me working in exchange for money, writing my sitcom pilot, or improving my acting. They are simply a list of things I could do to pass away the day. My view today in my grumpy mood anyways.

Got through the first two things fine, I didn’t really need my brain for them. I then realize I couldn’t squeeze in the actual DJ’ing in the gym part due to a lack of time. Thats ok, it’ll give me more time to get ready for the stand-up. However, my brain takes a nap, and I decide last minute that some toast would be nice before I head off. Already slightly behind schedule somehow, even though I had given myself two extra hours? Then I almost burn my hands on my George Foreman while waiting impatiently for the toast, which I can’t wait for, and end up running down the road with warm bread in my hands. I am sprinting to make the stand-up at this stage, I can’t be late and miss the signing up part.

As I belt across the street to the comedy club, warm bread in hand, shouting and waving the bread at cars to get them to stop and let me cross, it hits me that I have seen people, supposedly crazy, doing this sort of thing around L.A, and particularly in San Francisco. Am I losing my mind? No, no, it’s just an off day, I convince myself. I get to the club, and there is a swarm of people outside, the door is closed, place has yet to open, I made it on time! So I sit down outside the club, and enjoy my warm bread, waiting for the door to open so I can head inside and sign up.

When the door does open, I realize that the person coming out has a sheet of white paper… the list of who has been chosen to go up! The reason everyone was outside was that inside was so packed, it had been open all along, I had just wasted my opportunity by staying outside eating my horrible plain warm bread. Gutted, I head in, decide I’ll try to look for the manager from last week who said he would hook me up with a better time, presuming I would at least have signed up. Found him, gave him my spiel about running late, so sorry, I will be going home to Ireland next week, any hope of getting up one last time? Ok, he said, he’ll put me on first before people notice that I am not on the list, be ready.

I barely had time to get nervous, it was about a minute before I was good to go on. There were a few faces I recognized in the crowd, maybe from their photos being on the wall, but this could be a chance at a breakthrough! Time to focus, whereas last week I was just pumped to go up and in a great mood, today, however, my head was all over the place so needed to get back on track. Name gets called, big enough crowd (as in maybe 50 other comedians? big for my second time) and up I go. Being honest, I get a few cheap, easy laughs to begin – thanks for all coming to see just me, I’m Irish, then more hooting and clapping when I told a white lie and said it was my first time ever doing it (my second time didn’t have the same ring). After that, some jokes were misunderstood and not laughed at, other parts which weren’t meant to be jokes got laughs for some reason, and when I heard one person saying “That’s funny” instead of laughing, I got good mileage out of mocking the comment. 

That was the first two minutes anyways, which flew by, I used up what I had thought would be about 10 minutes of gold, ha, no it was not. I told a joke that turned into more of a rant, and made up a new punch line on the spot when the first one wasn’t recognized, it got a whimper. Finally I finished up with a quick one liner joke, and walked off stage. It was only about half an hour later that I realized the reason nobody had laughed at the joke, or heckled me for it being so bad, was that I had forgotten to give the punch line. I think I said it in my head, then my brain took a quick nap, and it forgot to come out. Mighty work. 

Overall, I could take bits away from the material, and leave the rest of it on stage. When I went up to the manager to thank him for hooking me up, and then to tell him I would see him next week, he cut me off right in the middle of my sentence, right at the “and then” part above. This is when he said “No problem, have a safe trip home, enjoy the next few months back in Ireland.” Balls, my spiel beforehand to ensure I got on had come back to haunt me, so soon! Eh, cheers man, I’ll see you when I’m back, in a few months, just like I said.

At least it’ll give me time to work on material for the next time I come back to this club! After the elation of the stand-up debut, I could tell from my act this week, what parts exactly need a lot more work. Some of the jokes I tried to tell, were ones which needed a lot of background info, situation and location knowledge, or prior reading of the blog to get the laughs which I desire. I shall have to fine tune them, a lot. Still though, the guy I thought was the funniest of the show came up to me afterwards for a high five, wuu.

Numbers 5 and 6 on the list were going to be put off until tomorrow but I managed to get them in tonight. Only number 8 to do now, and I will have had a productive day, list wise at least. Although it is a big holiday here tonight, and the place is rocking! Cinco de Mayo, never really heard of it (my last stand-up joke was related to the name, I’ll save you heckling material, horrendous). I decided I will stay in though, have a quiet one with my brain. We have a few bridges to build. If we don’t, expect a few more bread and traffic stories.

Earlier today I had a break through, mentally at least, I think I know now what I must do next. I’ll see if I still think it tomorrow. Song of the day, not the easy option of a Doors song but… Until We Bleed by Kleerup with Lykke Li

Good Hair, Bad Hair Day

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The reason I’m going with the good hair comment is because two random girls, one walking down the street, the other in a cafe, complimented my bird’s nest. I personally think that it was looking no different from yesterday, or as it will tomorrow. Being honest, neither compliment really improved my mood for more than 10 seconds. For some reason, the rest of the day has been weary and dreary. Not really sure why so. The sun was shining, one pretty cool thing did happen today, but I was feeling wrecked from the minute I woke up. Little b***ch mode was on for the day.

It might be something to do with the fact that I felt mugged in certain ways over the weekend. On Saturday, there were cleaners in our house to do a deep clean kind of thing. They seemed sound, I had an hour to kill, so I ended up helping them out, hoovering downstairs and the likes. I did notice yesterday that they did not clean any part of my room, or most of the rest of the house. I am not sure what they did being honest, brought the rubbish out maybe, not enough to warrant getting paid all that money. Presuming they were coming back to finish off, I find out today that they are not, they were just crap and did a runner. Annoying enough.

Last night I was meant to be doing stand-up again. Yesterday I spent the day battling my hangover trying to think up new material for the 3 minute slot. It was on in a supposedly well known comedy club, the iO West Theatre in Hollywood. I had never heard of it either. The manager had emailed me telling me I would be given a slot at some stage, so make sure to come along. When I arrived, I noticed the comedian Andy Dick in the crowd, apparently he was watching out for new talent. I think he is involved with the place. Maybe that the section where it was on being called the Andy Dick Black Box gave me the clue.

iO West Improv Theatre

So, I was pumped to get on stage and try to impress him, could lead to the big break, sitcom, movies etc. Obviously, ha. Plus my buddy came along with a friend, I would know people in the audience, added pressure. Then I get informed that the 3 minute slot was actually more like a 5 minute one. Only 2 minutes extra I know, but still, a long time on stage. The song “I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight” by Cutting Crew randomly started to play over in my head, and weirdly settled my nerves. I had thought up of a load of crap jokes earlier in the day, at least I think I thought them up, couldn’t decide if I maybe just heard them years ago or not. If worst came to worst, I’d pull a few of them out.

However, I had no need to think of any of this. Seeing as the b*****d didn’t call me out to go up on stage. Supposedly, you wrote your name on a slip of paper, the host then pulled them out randomly up on stage to see the order, and everyone gets a go. Nope. All his buddies got hooked up. I am no buddy of his though it seems. Maybe because I didn’t laugh at his horrific jokes when he did a bit before the night got under way. I am no expert, but you would be surprised at how crap some of the stand-up comedians are in Hollywood. I know its only open mic and no-one is getting paid for it, but some of them are absolutely horrific. To top it all off, they are highly delusion, not realizing the sound they seemed to think was laughter was actually silence. 

Sitting there from 10, until 12, gradually realizing that the names were not, in fact, being called out randomly, was highly frustrating, especially when some of them were so, so, so bad. At least I can cop on to when I tell a bad joke, that is most of the angle I was going to use, but these people don’t let it go. There was actually an Irish woman who got to go up about halfway through. Jesus, she was brutal, ruined any hope I would have had at playing the Irish card, just kept shouting at herself. Leaving there with my buddy and his friend, after having not going up, was a great buzz, chump and an ape all rolled into one.

All of the above, plus the let down of the fight on Saturday night, I think contributed to me feeling weary and beaten today. Although, I should’ve been upbeat. I had a meeting with a committee member of BAFTA, to see if I could impress and get accepted into a newcomer’s program which they have. The meeting was arranged in Urth Cafe on Melrose, which is right next to the BAFTA office. When I arrived there, I immediately recognized the place. It is always shown on the likes of Entourage, photos of L.A, all that jazz.

Urth Cafe

People must just sit here and wait for celebrities. Going in you can feel eyes on you, until you take off your sunglasses and people see that, no, you are not someone they recognize, how you’ve let them all down, it is ridiculous! Speaking of which, I think Lenny Kravitz was at the table next to me today, but he never took of his sunglasses so I wasn’t 100% sure, ha, 99% say.

This is where I got a hair compliment, unusual seeing as usually it is a hair complaint. I was looking sharp for the meeting, as in the sense it was a rare day I wore a shirt, 3 times a year roughly, so the shirt, and not me, was looking sharp. The compliment was given as I ordered a coffee. That was until I actually took off my sunglasses, which is when the girl didn’t recognize my beautiful eyes and walked away. I might as well have taken off my shirt and revealed a set of man boobs for the look of disappointment on her face. I am sure that she sincerely meant the compliment though. Sure.

Anyways, ordered a coffee, waiting for a Larry David lookalike to show up (the man from BAFTA’s own description), and tried to figure out if it was Lenny Kravitz next to me without staring, ha. An uncanny Larry David lookalike walks up the steps, recognizes me from the photo I sent in and makes his way over. I stand up, knock the table with my knee, spilling my coffee down my shorts, people turn to look at the commotion, Lenny doesn’t, coffee is hot enough on my thighs, great funking first impression. Seriously, what an ape.

Luckily, the man I meet with was born in Cork too, and we get on great. The meeting goes well, I spread out my 3 minutes of doing something good in one day to last the meeting, and as he leaves he tells me that he will be giving me a glowing recommendation to the board. Happy days, wuu.

As I walk home, I start to think today isn’t too bad after all. I am going to be recommended to the BAFTA committee board for membership, how could this not be a good day?! I mean, this now means that…ehh. This will mean that I now can, emm. What does this mean? Turns out, I have no clue what this actually means. I still can’t figure it out. I am presuming it is a good thing, I just have to find out why and what the benefits will be. However, lets not forget, all my presumptions so far, have usually turned out to be horrendously wrong. Great day.

Song of the bad hair day… Lisztomania by Phoenix

Stand Up, Knocked Down

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With my stand-up debut looming tomorrow, I decided I would spend the entire day, gathering and putting together all my random notes and material, for my 5 minute act. It was going to be a productive day. Until I started to realize a few key aspects. First one, and I think this could be crucial to my success as a stand-up comedian, is that I am fairly brutal at telling jokes. As in horrific. This is what my usual two line joke turns into… I start off telling my great joke. Which is then greeted by silence, a lack of laughter. So, I presume that the person did not hear me the first time around, or wasn’t paying attention. So I tell it again. They actually did hear me first time, I am told, they just didn’t get it/didn’t think it is funny. I plough on, determined to get a laugh, so I explain out the joke, why it actually is funny, highlighting the important words, catch phrases and key aspects of the two line joke. And the whole thing ends with just me laughing at the joke, on my own. I personally think all my jokes are brilliant. Then again, every mother also thinks their baby is beautiful, no matter what.

Another stumbling block is the time frame. The above scenario usually lasts 5 minutes, so time wise it is spot on. However, I am looking for laughs, so I must make sure I move swiftly on and have enough material to cover myself if and when the first signs of bombing occurs. Thankfully, I now have a back-up plan – singing the Irish national anthem, should kill a few minutes at least, and how many people in the crowd will actually know Irish anyways. Actually, with my luck, it’ll be Irish night so they all will.

I decided to test out two potential opening lines on my roommates. At least I got a consistent response. First time around, I could see that they did not understand one word I had just wasted on them. Apparently my comedic accent descends into complete gibberish to the untrained ear. Secondly, after I re-told them the jokes, I could see them still actively listening, waiting for me to tell them the punch lines. The ones I had already delivered. Oh Jesus. So, to finish off the three stages of my joke telling process, I explained why they were actually funny, only to be told “Oh God, don’t use them, try something else”. Oh yeah, I have a cupboard full of great opening lines, let me just fish one out! Looks like I’ll be opening with my line about having sex with a pig on Spring Break in Mexico. That snippet reads far funnier than the joke actually sounds. Actually, that’s it, that is the whole joke. Oh Jesus.

If only I could bring situations, and daily encounters with people, up onto the stage with me, at least they provide some humour. Earlier this morning, while making some coffee, I realized I had ran out of sugar. Luckily for me, my ridiculously hot neighbour, the Neighbour girl, was walking by my window with her laundry. Superb, I’ll ask her for some sugar, she’ll invite me over, sparks will fly and Bob’s your uncle. Out I rush, hi, sorry, excuse me, can I ask you for a favour? Going well so far, I hadn’t mentioned s**t or rubbish yet, unlike the last time I tried my luck. At this point, I should perhaps mention that I am a weird old ape when it comes to eating healthy, so I in fact don’t use sugar, but the healthier, more womanly sugar substitute known as Splenda. This was to be my downfall… Any chance I could borrow some sugar from you please? I’ll pay you straight back, I swear, haha, I’m so witty… “Yeah, sure, no problem, just come over to my hous…” Actually, I meant Splenda if you have that, I don’t actually use sugar, do you have Splenda? “Splenda? Haha, no, sorry, try the two guys in there” and nods towards where two gay guys live. The job. The haha was not with me either, it was more down and at me, with a shake of her head, and a look of “What kind of woman are you?” I’ll be the one laughing in the long run with my no calorie sweetener! And yes, the answer to your look is that I do have womanly attributes.

Needing to get out of the house after that, and away from my little hub of stagnant comedy, I hit the gym. Started off well in there. In the bathroom beforehand, seeing as all the stalls were taken, I knocked on one of the cubicle doors to see if someone was actually in there. I was greeted by the reply of “Occ-u-pied” not by one, but two guy’s voices, lovely. At least I figured out why I like to DJ/Genius in there too even though I don’t get paid. 5% of the reason would be that I actually like playing the music to an audience, of some sort. 95% of it though, is down to the fact I love compliments! Who doesn’t? Even if I get heckled off the stage tomorrow, I’ll take it as a compliment that they at least understood my accent well enough to decide that the jokes were horrific.

So, when a girl (makes a pleasant change) came up to me in the gym today saying that she loved the music I played the other day, what was the name of the Spanish song I played (I didn’t play any Spanish song but we’ll ignore that minor detail), and I was way better than the DJ playing right now, my head swelled up nicely enough for me to want to go back this week and play a few more gems I am after finding. I had not even realized there was a DJ playing at the time, bland enough if I do say so myself. However, he did have a mountain of equipment set up in front of him, as opposed to my all-in-one equipment of my laptop, so he did look the part. Dodgy remixes over bland any day of the week though!

Enough of that side-tracking so I can tell you how I think I am better than DJ Bland, I presume he is getting paid to play gigs elsewhere. It was on the way home where the fun happened. As I am coming up to the major intersection between my house and the gym, I saw my buddy, the homeless dude who makes more money than I do, with his back to me, shouting and ranting at the traffic. Seeing as we were now buddies, I presumed he would find it funny if I played the old school boy trick of tapping his right shoulder, while standing behind him to his left. He would turn and look to his right, only to have been fooled by me! Silly him! No, silly me.

I tap his right shoulder, and stand to his left. How he knows, I don’t know, but he instinctively swings to his left and clocks me in the right ear. I was not expecting this to say the least, so stumble back a bit, reeling from the shock. Full on belt too, painful enough. Although, the sheer embarrassment far outweighed any pain. When he realizes he is not being attacked, he stops the ranting and shouting he had continued on from the cars. He starts to apologize(ish), thought he was being attacked. I start to apologize for scaring him, meant to be a joke, nice right hook you have, sort of thing. I blame the blow to the head for my next action, as when he rattles his tin bucket at me, I end up giving him the only bit of money I had on me, trying to buy his forgiveness? Either way, it was a $5 note I could’ve done with, thats $6 he owes me now! Not sure if I’ll get it back though, here was his reply when I broached the subject…

 

Homeless Buddy

Hopefully the audience tomorrow won’t give me the same response during my debut! Stand-up on!!!

Here’s a song to get me pumped for it before I go on!!! Chelsea Dagger by The Fratellis