Reasons I don’t do standup:

I was born with a nuchal cord times 4 that means umbilical cord wrapped around my neck 4 times. So really if you think about it, I’ve been trying to kill myself longer than I’ve been alive.

So I figured if they were gonna be like that they were at least gonna give me some Ativan, so I… earned me some Ativan. And Benadryl. And haldol. In the industry this is referred to as a B52 as in, Benadryl, 5mg of Haldol, and 2mg of Ativan. I did not get a B52, I got a B 10 and 4 (I really earned it) and woke up on the floor of (State hospital) with my back seized up from the haldol and ~*that’s how I found out they were hiring!*~

And after that I just kept working in mental health because I figured if I was going to be stuck in psych hospitals for the rest of my life I might as well have the keys.

And now I have ten more years of jokes like that. Many of them involve feces and I often forget not to tell them over dinner.

Cloony The Clown by Shel Silverstein

I’ll tell you the story of Cloony the Clown Who worked in a circus that came through town. His shoes were too big and his hat was too small, But he just wasn’t, just wasn’t funny at all. He had a trombone to play loud silly tunes, He had a green dog and a thousand balloons. He was floppy and sloppy and skinny and tall, But he just wasn’t, just wasn’t funny at all. And every time he did a trick, Everyone felt a little sick. And every time he told a joke, Folks sighed as if their hearts were broke. And every time he lost a shoe, Everyone looked awfully blue. And every time he stood on his head, Everyone screamed, “Go back to bed!” And every time he made a leap, Everybody fell asleep. And every time he ate his tie, Everyone began to cry. And Cloony could not make any money Simply because he was not funny. One day he said, “I’ll tell this town How it feels to be an unfunny clown.” And he told them all why he looked so sad, And he told them all why he felt so bad. He told of Pain and Rain and Cold, He told of Darkness in his soul, And after he finished his tale of woe, Did everyone cry? Oh no, no, no, They laughed until they shook the trees With “Hah-Hah-Hahs” and “Hee-Hee-Hees.” They laughed with howls and yowls and shrieks, They laughed all day, they laughed all week, They laughed until they had a fit, They laughed until their jackets split. The laughter spread for miles around To every city, every town, Over mountains, 'cross the sea, From Saint Tropez to Mun San Nee. And soon the whole world rang with laughter, Lasting till forever after, While Cloony stood in the circus tent, With his head drooped low and his shoulders bent. And he said,“THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT - I’M FUNNY JUST BY ACCIDENT.” And while the world laughed outside. Cloony the Clown sat down and cried.

Open mic nights are great, and horrible.

I will say that if you ever have a chance to do it, and have the ability to come up with even bad jokes, try it.

You’ll suck. Everyone sucks early on, even and especially the really big names. All of them bombed early on, and many have bombed after they had their craft honed.

It’s terrifying, even if you think you’re going to be fine. You’ve got your tight 5 or 15, you nailed all your public speaking classes, you’re the one people invite to parties because you’re that guy that can tell stories and keep a room laughing and having a good time all night.

Then you step up into lights, with whatever crowd is there, watching you, waiting for you to entertain them, waiting to decide if you’re funny or not. Yeah, it’s open mic, you aren’t getting booed off stage unless you’re a dickbag. They’ll clap politely at the end as long as you make an effort. But the crowd isn’t going to fake laughing, and they can’t fake being bored.

And you will fuck up. You’ll stumble over words you practiced a dozen times. You’ll fuck up the punchline. You’ll fuck the timing up. Something is going to go wrong.

But guess what? You’ll fuck off the stage, and you’ll be okay. It ain’t the end of the world. Maybe you’ll even like it all, bombing and all. Maybe you’ll run and never come back to try again. But you did it. You got the fuck up there, you did your bit, and all that fear and belly clenching is a memory you’ll never lose. It’s one of the most unique experiences you can have without being arrested.

If you decide to try again, you’ll have learned from it. You’ll do better, even if it’s only a little. But all those nerves, you know how to handle them. If you still bomb, who the fuck cares, it can’t be as bad as that first time.

Now, me, I fucking tsar bombad my first try. Like, even the polite clapping at the end was scattered and done out of pity, not because I tried. It wasn’t even that the jokes were bad, they get laughs elsewhere still. It’s just the nature of the new. Every speech I’d given, every class I’d taught, it didn’t matter because that stage was an alien world. I fucked every single one up.

But the second time? I got laughs. Didn’t win over everyone, I went with some absurdist stuff and was over the top, which isn’t for everyone. But the ones that did get it, loved it. Standing up and clapping at the end. One dude spilled his beer laughing at my bit about a horny bull fucking a fence post. He was the only one laughing at that part at first, but after he went, it spread.

Never did it again lol. Only reason I did it twice was because of how wrung out I was the first time. Anything that terrifying, that mind fucking, I couldn’t run away from. It’s one of those things where I had to do it again so that I knew I could rather than saying that I just didn’t have fun the first time, and didn’t do well, so it wasn’t worth doing again. I was finding excuses in my to not do it again, even though I had never originally planned to. I can’t leave shit like that in my head unless it’s a physical risk. My first time tumbling down a trail on a bike because the trail wasn’t meant to be a bike trail was enough. No need to risk paralysis or death when it went wrong, you dig?

But if I didn’t plan on a second open mic night, and my brain is whining about why I shouldn’t go again, that’s a sign of something I can’t leave be. So I had to go again.

“Kid’s an incredible actor. It looks like he’s legitimately having a panic attack on stage. I need his agent’s number”

I saw a video years ago of a stand-up show where they gave different amateur comedians a shot on stage, one guy did exactly this. Didn’t look like he was faking.