Hi. Thanks for taking a sec to read this.
Long story short: my last full-time writing gig ended a few weeks ago, and I’m having trouble nailing my next job down. I’m doing freelance stuff + expect something to fall into place soon, but I have a crazy number of financial responsibilities (I have 2…
Substance over style is no longer up for debate. Comedic expertise funds 100 percent of my annual income. I even know how to behave in public. January marked my 10-year anniversary of professional journalisming, and in that decade, the way I define, experience and process stand-up has changed dramatically.
Example: Back in 2003 and 2004, hanging out at shows meant hitting the Comedy Cellar once a week or so, usually weeknights, when you could easily score those free online reservations that now only seem to pop up on the website for Sunday and late Wednesday shows. I’d sit right up front and sob into my two-drink minimum over how fucking funny Rich Vos, Mike Birbiglia and Lisa Lampanelli were. Then thunder up the stairs two at a time, throw open the door, process the weary faces populating the back table simultaneously processing whoever’d just come in, and spend the rest of the night at the Olive Tree bar, bugging the everliving shit out of Robert Kelly, Dan Naturman and Dave Attell. Nachos were typically involved. Each and every time I’d holler joyously about how the chips and cheese not only came on their own platter big enough to serve a Thanksgiving turducken, but all the salsa, guac, sour cream, lettuce and jalapenos came on a whole other plate altogether. There was also alcohol. So, so much alcohol.
I’d only started following stand-up a few months before I started visiting the Cellar regularly. Once I discovered Jerry Seinfeld’s 2002 documentary Comedian—and understood how he’d in part filmed there to extol the sacrosanct/volatile vibe, thank owner/father figure Manny Dworman and pay homage to the West Village’s indelible role in shaping music/literary culture—fuggedaboutit. Somewhere between 2 and 4 a.m. I’d be sobbing again, this time over the lovingly chalked-up slate tables, the Charlie Chaplin projecting silently overhead, the serene portraits sketched in pencil, framed on wood panel, glowing dimly beneath stained-glass lamps. This was ground zero for the absolute best comedy in the world, man! This was beautiful! This was the heart and home of the truest, most honest expression of humanity anyone could possibly…yes, I would love another Blue Moon, thank you very much!
One of the comedians who helped me at the beginning was a fellow Chicagoan named Jimmy Pardo. Here he is in a really funny piece from Conan, where he also works as the warm up comic for every episode they shoot.
We see each…
This is a show I’m hosting, made a flyer for, taking tickets at, and stirring nacho cheese for the stoned friends of the comedians who’ll be attending. You should go to it?
One time I was hitchhiking and this guy who gave me a ride said, “I’ll give you twenty dollars if you let me blow you”. I didn’t let him blow me, but the fact that he used the word “let” flattered me way more than the offer of financial compensation. I’ve never been with a girl who said, “Hey, do you think it would be possible for me to please suck your dick? I want to cherish it in my mouth with some reverence and respect.”
According to some of our well-informed sources (Yes, we do have sources. We’re a bureau for goodness sake), we have a list of who will be taping half hour stand-up specials for Comedy Central this year and, looking over the names, we’re going to go ahead and say all of it is fully Comedy Bureau approved.
JANUARY 1973 - THE GEORGE CARLIN TALK SHOW - LOST PILOT
For the last several years, the only thing I’ve really cared about is doing comedy (stand up, improv, whatever) There is nothing that makes me happier than doing it.
I look like a cat burglar in this picture, but it’s the only one I could find of me smiling.
That being said, it’s amazing…
GEORGE CARLIN’S TELEVISION DEBUT - BURNS AND CARLIN ON PLAYBOY’S PENTHOUSE, 1961/1962
|—||Alan Watts (via biscodeja-vu)|