This
week, what a cunt.
On Sunday Luka, Blake and I drove out North in search of an open mic music room that was supposed to be on but turned out to be a jam rather than performers taking turns on stage, so we couldn't do comedy there. Then we came back down to Richmond to find an open mic that no longer existed at some random cafe. No gigs on Sunday.
Monday I went to the clinical trial place and took a blood test (I fucking HATE needles), which I would subsequently fail after testing positive for opioids (apparently Codral contains codeine). Then I went to the Penny Black and had what I will hereafter rank as my worst gig ever in which I pointed out a chick who wasn't facing the stage at the start of my act, and spent five minutes dying, only to find out afterwards that everyone else in the room knew that she was blind except me. Cool.
Last night (Tuesday) we had our worst turnout at the Rochester in a few months, and also had a band playing upstairs which, while not ultimately detracting from the night, gave me a great deal of stress beforehand. My parents were in the audience and saw me bomb for the second half of my set after I tried telling the blind girl story with little preparation. After the show the girl I had made a few increasingly overt failed advances on in the weeks previous professed her equally overt desire for one of the other comics' semen, and also, the weather was shit.
That's the bad things, I guess. The list got a little petty towards the end, but in for a penny, in for a pound, as the saying goes. I could list all the good things that happened, and there were a few, but I won't, that much is clear from this juncture. Now I just need to figure out why.
The thing that stressed me out the most was the poor turnout at the room – why was last week slightly below average (our hypothesis was the rain), and this week even lower? Uni holidays not being on? Maybe? We flyered just as much as we ever have, and the lineups are only getting better with a few quality acts dropping in regularly asking for spots. I'm hoping that once summer really kicks in, the room will kick off... but last night was not what we needed the week before what we have been saying is going to be our best week yet. November 5th, I only discovered last week, is Melbourne Cup Day... fuck I hope people still come out. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck.
Still stressing. Yep. I'm not going to start making lists, I promise.
I have organized, in my mind, a better way of telling the blind girl story, which I intend to try tonight at Station 59 granted I can get a spot. Schuster gave me a few helpful tips about storytelling on stage after his KILLER MC spot last night: “everything I say has to have one of three purposes; it either endears me to the audience, advances the story, or is funny – and funny is the most important one.”
I'm really fucking shaken after the last few days. I think I'm going to have a lie down now, actually. God damn it, I thought I was past this for a while.
Taking it easy, not thinking too much. Looking over the edge somewhat.
Peace, Taco.
On Sunday Luka, Blake and I drove out North in search of an open mic music room that was supposed to be on but turned out to be a jam rather than performers taking turns on stage, so we couldn't do comedy there. Then we came back down to Richmond to find an open mic that no longer existed at some random cafe. No gigs on Sunday.
Monday I went to the clinical trial place and took a blood test (I fucking HATE needles), which I would subsequently fail after testing positive for opioids (apparently Codral contains codeine). Then I went to the Penny Black and had what I will hereafter rank as my worst gig ever in which I pointed out a chick who wasn't facing the stage at the start of my act, and spent five minutes dying, only to find out afterwards that everyone else in the room knew that she was blind except me. Cool.
Last night (Tuesday) we had our worst turnout at the Rochester in a few months, and also had a band playing upstairs which, while not ultimately detracting from the night, gave me a great deal of stress beforehand. My parents were in the audience and saw me bomb for the second half of my set after I tried telling the blind girl story with little preparation. After the show the girl I had made a few increasingly overt failed advances on in the weeks previous professed her equally overt desire for one of the other comics' semen, and also, the weather was shit.
That's the bad things, I guess. The list got a little petty towards the end, but in for a penny, in for a pound, as the saying goes. I could list all the good things that happened, and there were a few, but I won't, that much is clear from this juncture. Now I just need to figure out why.
The thing that stressed me out the most was the poor turnout at the room – why was last week slightly below average (our hypothesis was the rain), and this week even lower? Uni holidays not being on? Maybe? We flyered just as much as we ever have, and the lineups are only getting better with a few quality acts dropping in regularly asking for spots. I'm hoping that once summer really kicks in, the room will kick off... but last night was not what we needed the week before what we have been saying is going to be our best week yet. November 5th, I only discovered last week, is Melbourne Cup Day... fuck I hope people still come out. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck.
Still stressing. Yep. I'm not going to start making lists, I promise.
I have organized, in my mind, a better way of telling the blind girl story, which I intend to try tonight at Station 59 granted I can get a spot. Schuster gave me a few helpful tips about storytelling on stage after his KILLER MC spot last night: “everything I say has to have one of three purposes; it either endears me to the audience, advances the story, or is funny – and funny is the most important one.”
I'm really fucking shaken after the last few days. I think I'm going to have a lie down now, actually. God damn it, I thought I was past this for a while.
Taking it easy, not thinking too much. Looking over the edge somewhat.
Peace, Taco.
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