Thursday, January 29, 2009

Douchebags who sip protein shakes in a thermos while driving to work

I'm one of them!


For anyone thinking of performing comedy at the UnUrban Coffeehouse weekly comedy open mic in West Los Angeles, let me offer you a suggestion. DON'T.

Let me be more specific.

The UnUrban Coffeehouse open mic is WHERE COMEDY GOES TO DIE.

I initially thought this low key "hipster" spot would be a perfect place to sort out the kinks in my new set before I worked it into a real show. After all it had been months since I had been up on stage.

Unfortunately, I didn't count on playing to a room of left wing vegan nutjobs strung out on methadone and ginkgo biloba. Don't get me wrong, I voted for Obama but this is the same coffeehouse where the 9-11 conspirators hold their weekly meetings.

Here are the acts I followed:

A possible homeless man who brought a puppet on stage.

A guy who spent six minutes plotting how he wants to kill Bush. (I was worried the secret service would be busting down the door at any minute.)

A strung out tweaker who spent six minutes without reciting a SINGLE JOKE. His entire act consisted of going around the room asking people where they were from. When he reached the only cute girl in the room, he followed up that question with "Are you single?" After his set, he creepily followed the girl outside who literally ran to her bike and sprinted down the street like Lance Armstrong in the final mile of the Tour De France.

So how about my act?

I think I got more laughs at my last funeral.


By popular demand...

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