Good Vs Evil

When bad brings its A game, one considers it evil. Good has its base level of good. Casual good beats the highest extent of bad.

The Good Kind of Warm

On the bubble of mid-level comic Will Noonan looked at me like I would get pissed. He said he snuck or squeezed in the open mic list at Grandma's Basement (1271 Boylston St. Boston, MA) just before my turn to perform. Maybe I would have ribbed him in the quintessential comic style if I needed to hurry off somewhere after my set, but I had time so I chuckled to myself. I chuckled to myself during the beginning part of my set because for the first time in seven years doing comedy, an audience felt warm to me. Literally warm. It had a pleasant warmness to it, opposite from that of a public pool. How did this happen? The comic known as Noonan (or just Will as he would probably say) made his seemingly off-the-cuff set from the night's topic of strip clubs. Apparently more than a few joke slingers dumped on gentleman's clubs for various reasons. Will said he did not appreciate the stigma attached to strip clubs because as the "type of guy" who liked going to strip clubs "to watch a Celtics game and see a butthole" (the dressed-down energy and delivery admittedly made me chuckle and feel levity amid tenseness), he saw strip clubs as a sort of "Cheers"y type place (he can use that if he wants). He knocked the pins in the room down by jesting strip club DJs on their sobering misfortunes and hackneyed jokes. He made the strip club atmosphere come to life with his accurate impression of a particular DJ and his interaction with an unfortunate bachelor. His performance of the situation at the club also elevated the comedic topic of strip clubs and their DJs. I heard gasps for air from the crowd amid laughter. I got slightly jealous. He damn near killed. He had to truncate his set due to time. This all benefited me (minus the truncation) in my performance because I went up, told my first joke and the crowd appeared without the usual thick black leaden sense of "turning-it-over" like a beater car engine to get laughs. I could sense warmth akin to an apple pie that Willy baked for me. I mischievously/playfully dipped my jokes into that pie and in turn they slicked from punchline to the next one's set-up with gooey delight. I do not know if I kept it warm for the next comic, Rich Karski (I must have because when Karski said Hitler, minding his evil or something, could get shit done, he got a burst of laughter) I did, however feel that set went more enjoyably, strongly, and comfortably than pretty much any other at that mic thanks in considerable part (bloggable even) to @willnoonan. 

Leftie and Rightie

"I verdantly wake to Spring's tranquil morning, ya know, Leftie?" 
"That I do, Rightie. I like it when our caretaker puts out on his Gator and trims us real nice."
"Yeah, we get some illustrious treatment, Leftie."
"Indeed, Rightie. When that stitched orb hits me so pleasantly, I just want to eat it."
"Sometimes you do, Left-Left. I don't mind the man standing on me. He treats me with respect."
"Mine spits sunflower seed shells and dips out on me."
"Can't you use that to grow?"
"I like the seeds, idk about the chaw, though, lol."
"When did you learn internet short hand, Leftie?"
"Oh, I picked it up when I got that Wrigley Left's number, 405 I believe."
"Mmmm, I'd like to play ball on that. She's American League sized if u know what I mean!"
"The lights feel soooo good on me... uh, oh, there they go!"
"I'm gonna hang back and doze off; night, Leftie."
"Good night, Rightie. Mmmmmm, sprinklers came on. Fuggyeah."
"Anyone wanna play ball?"
"Oh, Center!"

Back in Y'azz w/ the Resurrection

I started writing a comedy screenplay two years ago and fleshed out to the middle of the plot with about fifteen pages, so, naturally, it seems more like the screenplay got overstretched than fleshed. It felt too cliche in terms of plot devices and too risky to sell as a first time screenplay. However, now in retrospect and a facebook photo of the subject matter it really seems like it could make for an enjoyable movie experience. This baby gots all the makings! If you, dear reader, ever see me or have contact to me online (besides this comment section) then bug me bouts it! TY - staleface

The Gas! Gets Gassy! Maconemayerchiampapeeps

Steve Macone, man; this writer could go on for days and days about the fellow of humour. So much to write about. However the scene must get set for what could take hours regaling. The host of youth infested Allston's The Gas!, Boston comedy producer/comedian Rob Crean, kicked the show into gear with his intense pleasantness. His pleasantness turned to outrage as he went into his Boston favorite tea jokes. Found it nice to know that Rob's irritation about tea tax comes from this writer's place of employment, the Boston Common Coffee Company, which charges two dollars and an irrational three pennies extra for tea; sure to call any soul of New England to rise up in arms... or mic!  Rob-Rob got the crowd warm then the crowd burst w/ laughter when an out of place "Randy Newman" from the crowd answered Rob's quasi rhetorical question. Rob brought up charming Maria Chiampa, whose material roughly revolving around murder murdered. Her set went the full range of temp from chilly (asking, in her hostess-of-Sunday-Stand--up-at Cambridge's-ImprovBoston-show-tone, the cool kids in the back to come up only to bullshit responses) to very hot when she gave her absent, recently jailed :( sister a reality check by letting her know jail comes sparse with niceties one finds in a spa. A spa. Rob came on again and turned Randy Newman to a continuing reference. Andrew Mayer, with both adorable jokes that come sometimes with a dark tinge and seemingly contrasting tactile analyses, did very well as one could here the crowd repeat his punchlines often. Mayer made his way steadily through his set with experience and confidence to near the end where my favorite joke of the night suggested dinosaurs that discover their own fossils (presented as a web based fact by the comic) they would have an all too human reaction. The joke has a good take on human society or lack thereof through dino-relig. Ms. Kate Ghiloni came up next. She only allocated thee minutes of crowd work to herself for the set. Most of that time got eaten by a superstar wife that somehow got the show's attention by shouting she married the wrong person. Her husband who attended seemed flattered. Kate got herself out of the quicksand of drunken feelings by mentioning she started getting drunk again due to her feelings. She did her material on fantasy football which charmed the dudes. She does have above average sports knowledge, like her rag on the Bengals and how their real motivation comes from irresponsibility off-field. Sean Wilkinson, not a Bengal or father of ten, got the crowd as hot as Mayer did with material about his aesthetically unpleasing masturbation techniques and how his sex life could do plague like harm. Sounds funnier live, so go fuckin' see it! Go see Steve, too. He good.  

Ethan Marsh at The Gas! (Fa Real)

The Gas! at Great Scott sits on the corner of Harvard and Commonwealth Ave; the perfect place for a particular wayward individual to bum tobacco and beer money off of students and show his cock ring to young people. Luckily enough this has no indication of Ethan Marsh's show that took place inside! The show started off with a couple of Texan comics that mixed things up. The big bearded, thick glasses wearing Texan with a high, moderately effeminate voice used it to give his festival ready presence unto the biggest non-national headliner crowd this writer has seen in his fourth or fifth visit to the show. The crowd-pleasing Celtics shirt wearing follow-up comic looked like Mac from Sunny and had some hit-or-miss anti-jokes regarding racism and also some non-sequitor impressions. The Texan made a joke comics desire to make when he connected the forgotten mainstream event (popular at the time) to the present (where mentioning it exposes the desertion mainstream fans give their genre after the hit has gotten made). The joke connected Linkin Park and Jay-Z's collaboration to the present time. His set brought up local comics Ryan Douglass and Justin P. Drew, who did their routines to a nice reception. The show also featured a well-adjusted comic from that state NY who had a fluid set which happened to course in and out of a drunk heckler chick with a nice body. The guy nailed her pretty hard at the beginning, but lost a point when he compared her to Brittany Spears. The heckler successfully took made herself the center of attention when the host, Rob Crean, came on (as he politely catered to her). However, she treated this writer politely and even had a good point when she heckled a Domican comic for saying he "does not like being around drunk people". So, right on, Brittany, and yes, that comic did say he does not like being around drunks in a bar at a comedy show. The show did not feature any female comics so perhaps Brittany used her buzz to improperly represent her gender. She later got finished by the comic formally known as "The Shoe". Shane McHugh poetically summed it up when he bluntly mandated, "Nobody fuck this chick tonight." The laughed with agreement. Shane allowed the crowd into his life when he shared he does not have the sense of smell. He continued on with a solid performance that deprecated his position. Mixed in between the whole lead-up group of comics, a character from the Granite State (NH) had some things to say... about the no-good town of Allston, the necessity of wearing Big Dogs shirts, and an inevitable collapse into misery. The character came to life via Ethan Marsh - the man of the hour who celebrated his birthday in style with an encompassing set. It started with fresh energy of, as far as this BoCom scene regular knows, fresh material presented professionally. He hit several notes ranging from his like of super-dive bars, a personal fav Sleepy Time Tea, and using his suspicions as a hobby. The hobby served as a theme for the night. Make seeing stand-up comedy a hobby and see Ethan Marsh!