This is the first episode of the BroJob Podcast. Aaron, Ty and Brandon bring their ridiculously inventive humor in this episode while discussing sports, video games, Ty’s attempt to buy a Ferrari and TJ Venn’s uncontrollable sphincter. The content of this podcast is wildly amusing and somewhat crass. It’ll have you laughing off your ass. Enjoy!
http://www.ourmedia.org/node/325668
Podcast: Play in new window | Download (30.3MB)
About a year ago I decide that I hated my job and that it was time to follow my dream. I quit my job and wearily began practicing and performing as a comedian. With the support of my family and friends, it became easier to commit. I made significant progress in experience but not financially. Without a “real” job or prospects of quickly becoming a rich and famous comedian I had to revisit my priorities.
I reluctantly accepted a part time job and then a full time position. My brother convinced me that if I was truly passionate, I could work hard at my job and advancing my performances to satisfy both needs. It was a nice sentiment.
I stopped writing. I stopped performing. I started complaining…a lot of complaining. It’s been six months and the funniest thing I’ve done lately is to give a nonchalant wet willy to a guy in front of me at a Green Day concert. He was pissed. It turns out that nobody likes Green Day.
No matter what shenanigans I’ve gotten into, comedy still weighs heavily on my mind. The more I think about it, the more scared I get and the more excuses I come up with to stay away. I feel I don’t have time. I’m scared that I burned bridges and if I go back people will hate me. I feel like my jokes will suck worse than before. I fear that I’ll repeat the same pattern I’m in now in six months time. This list goes on.
Attempting to regain motivation for my passion, I read this book called The War of Art by Stephen Pressfield. In the book, Pressfield talks a lot about Resistance blocking the way through creative battles. Resistance forms as procrastination and excuses and many self destructive behaviors.
Recognizing Resistance is only part of the problem. Success is a result of moving past the bull crap, sitting down and doing the work. As it turns out, doing the work, the part I’ve neglected and feared, is the one thing that will get me over this hurdle. The excuses are not the problem…I am.
My priorities are the same as they’ve always been. I’m still working but I’ve started writing again. I’ve toned down the complaints. The next step is to get back on stage. I’ve done it before and I can do it again and again and again. After all, it’s what I want to do. As long as I remind myself that it’s easier to just do the work rather than resist, I’ll be fine.
Here’s the problem with laptops.
Here’s the sitch. Family’s away for a short while. Spouse, parents, live-in life partner, master, whoever. You’re alone. You’re thinking, maybe I’ll have just a quick jerk. (Ladies, maybe just a quick flick.) Your fastest release…Internet PORN!
You strip down to your skivvies and, even though you know there’s no one around, you sneak your way over to the laundry hamper and grab an old sock for cleaning up. You scurry to the bathroom and lotion up. When you realize your wonderful circumstances, you instantly “perk” up. You prance and spin and dance your way over to your laptop. When you approach your laptop, you see that it is still in the computer bag. “No problem,” you whisper dismissively, “I got this.”
And, in your complacent attempt to gingerly open the bag’s zipper without leaving a shred of evidence revealing the act of masturbation, you drop your clean-up sock. As you go for it, you forget about the lotion on your hand and spill it all over the computer bag. Now the zipper is slathered in Jergen’s and you panic. You try and wipe it up by salvaging as much lube as you can. Your hands occupied, you start wiping excess lube with your hardened penis.
You freak when the zipper proves to be too abrasive on your tender flesh. You yelp in pain. Instinctively, and as not to disturb anyone (as you would under normal rub-your-chub circumstances), you cover your mouth. In doing so, you transfer lotion from your hand to your mouth, you look down to see your penis is bleeding. You also see that in your frantic struggle you shed pubic hair all over your work files and fallen sock.
You tell yourself, “F*ck it, I started this and I’m gonna finish.” You reach for the computer and manage to open it and turn it on with your non-lotiony hand. The computer is password protected and you type out what you think it is. You kick yourself as you remember inventing a password that not even the world’s top hacker could crack. A breeze for you any other day but, in the chaos, you panic. The letters alternate lower case and capitals. A percentage sign? You press the keys with your cleaner hand, using your tongue to press the shift key.
You finally log on and run the Internet with no luck. The router for the internet isn’t working. You run into the other room and unplug the router, wait 30 seconds and plug it back in. Fully erect, you sprint back to the computer. Realizing your alone time is diminishing, you grab your penis and single-handedly type the name of your favorite X-rated website (the only form of multitasking a man is capable of). You scroll over a video clip and watching a random preview of two Russians prod and poke each other, you bust a load of your future’s best, brightest and whitest directly into your belly button. No time for the clean up sock.
You relax and laugh at the mess you’ve created: The lotion covered computer bag. The blood. The semen. The porn site. You fall asleep. You wake up to your wife screaming at you for scarring her children for life. “No child should see her step-father this way!” she screams.
Laptops are the worst.
The old saying used to say that “you should smoke ‘em if you got ‘em.” There’s no worse advice in the history of all of the things that have ever been advised. Smoking is gross.
If you got ‘em, you should just shoot yourself. This is to say that even a dead and rotting corpse is more attractive than a smoker. If you smoke, you’re dead to me. If you don’t smoke, then we should hang out. If you don’t hang out, then you should. I’m a lot of fun.
By the way, don’t think that you can hide your nicotine addiction by chewing your smokeless tobacco around me either. That’s gross, too. It’s all spittooning your chaw into the empty water bottles in my car. You don’t deserve bottles. You deserve cancer. If you chew, then you should put fire ants in your eyes and cayenne pepper in your pee hole. That’s right. Pee hole.
Oh, and another thing; pull my finger. Smell that? Old wet newspapers and canned, creamed corn. You are that smell to me…completely disgusting. If you’re going to insist on riding your premium, menthol-flavored cancer pony to your grave, please, count me out. I don’t want anything to do with you. Now will you have sex with me?
Dickey Bill hosts Open Mic Comedy
Fort Collins CO 80526 (map)
(970)226-1212
DBW contact info; (970)231-1639 richardwwagner@gmail.com
Open Mic Comedy at the Cork on Wednesdays is a great place to introduce new material or tighten up a set order. The crowd varies depending on who is rumored to show up. There are about 8 local comics that routinely get stage time. There is always someone new trying to break in to the comedy scene. We have had some comedians travel up from Denver for a new audience to entertain. Experienced comics can get ten minutes stage time. New comics rarely go longer than five. The beer is cheap, the food is good and the entertainment is FREE.
See you soon ot there in comedy land.
Dickey Bill
This review was written by the incredible Richard “Dickey” Bill Wagner, a comedian and humorist located in northern Colorado.
What’s your favorite bar named after a bird? No, it’s not Boozie, the foul mouthed parrot you keep in a cage. It’s the Meadowlark, silly! Come down Sunday to the Meadowlark 2701 Larimer and see Denvers best comics! Aaron Maslow (me), Alicia Jacobs, Brent The Great, Rob Gleeson and hosted by the wonderfully talented, Tim Coleman! No cover! 9pm. I’m guessing that hands down you’ll have the best time of your entire life, ever (not an understatement).
What’s the difference between a good comedian and a not-so-good comedian? Jokes, folks. A comedian without jokes is like a cat without claws and eyes. It’s not much of a cat, really. If a comedian is going to survive and (potentially) thrive, he’s got to develop jokes.
As I’ve mentioned before, the quality of a comedian’s jokes aren’t nearly as important as the quantity. Quantity begets quality. This evolution is a byproduct of successful and productive time management (that’s right, I went straight to middle management jargon). Simply put, a good comedian has discipline.
Writing good jokes is a process. It starts with an idea that is written into a joke. The joke is performed and then tweaked over and over and over and over again. The final product is a fine gem: a joke that sounds so fresh, you’d think the comedian just came up with it.
Realizing this process, however, we can make the assessment that a good joke is stale to the comedian (and his wife). He has said it so many times that the words have lost meaning yet, he continues to fill the words with significance. He tries to mold his creation further even though he has exhausted any and all fresh permutations. He fully commits to the joke and sells it each and every time he performs; at every dive bar open mic, every comedy show and every event. To him, it’s a painstaking process, yet he sticks it out. This is discipline.
The benefit for a comedian is that he has an endless stream of thoughts and ideas that can make this transformation. As a joke loses its appeal, a comedian can hang it up and repeat this process on something new. Once again, it takes a certain amount of discipline to get sucked into that void. Some people dig it, though.
Good comedians are those that enjoy the process and regularly take the time to transform their material. It’s the only profession I can think of where hard work and commitment are laughable.
Thus far, I have managed to accomplish some work in the field of stand up comedy. By “some work”, of course, I mean “I have made a complete ass of myself”. In any case, it’s hilarious…here, have a listen:
If you don’t understand the part about Tourette’s Syndrome, you’ll just have to come out and see it.
Buckin’ Harley’s is an open mic comedy show on Monday nights, located at 1451 Cortez St, Denver, CO, 80221, (303) 487-0020.
THE GOOD:
Buckin’ Harley’s has an excellent stage: it’s well lit and has lots of space to roam around.
Buckin’ Harley’s gets out just in time to make it to the Lion’s Lair for a second set for the night. If you’re looking to rack up the stage time on a Monday night Buckin’ is a great first show to hit.
Buckin’ Harley’s is very new-comic friendly. This is not a stage where you have to worry about hecklers. If you’re new to comedy than hitting one of the late-late shows with a drunken audience might be daunting. None of that going on here. The audience is very supportive of new comics and first timers still trying to work out kinks in their material.
All the comics I’ve met at Buckin’ Harley’s are very friendly. This is not a ‘clicky’ venue where you won’t feel welcome if you’re not on the in-crowd. It’s an excellent place to network. Many comics will hang out after their set, drink, smoke on the patio, and trade stories.
There’s a great mixture of seasoned comics and newbies. This is good for the audience as well as the comics. If a comic bombs than you can be sure there’s a seasoned comic who’s ready to get the show back on track.
The audience isn’t roudy. The show starts early, so you won’t find drunk audience members shouting during your set. Even the people playing pool on the other side of the room don’t get out of hand.
The number of comics per night is usually low. Many open mics you might end up number 20 on the list for the night. By the time you hit the stage the audience is exhausted (if they stuck around at all). There’s usually between 5-8 comics on a given night here, so the audience won’t be sick of watching comedy by the time you hit the stage.
The producer is very relaxed about stage time. He’s not going to cut the lights off on you if you go a little over. Since there’s few comics he’ll usually work with you if you want a longer set (as long as you keep the audience laughing).
The show ends with a headliner. Audience members rarely leave before the show is over. So no worrying about a comedian bringing 10 people who all get up and leave before you get on stage.
It’s a true open mic. You don’t need to know anybody and there’s no signing up in advance. Show up and you will get some stage time.
THE BAD:
Audience dynamics can get a pretty tough at Buckin’ Harley’s. Audience members tend to spread themselves out in this large venue. The audience is situated on a large dance floor with a couple audience members per table and lots of empty space inbetween. Making a connection and engaging the audience can be difficult. If you’re not careful you can lose the audience to table talk.
The laughter can disipate quickly, making it tough to figure out just how many laughs you’re getting. This is because Buckin’ Harley’s has one giant room instead of a seperate room for shows. There are always several people way in the back of the club listening, but you’re never going to hear them laughing cause they’re simply too far away from the stage.
There’s no light to let you know you’re running out of time. The producer usually makes an “X” with his arms to let you know your time is up. This is very easy to miss. So if you’re use to longer sets make sure you keep an eye out for the producer.
This review was written by Drew Volle, comedian and host of www.creativestandup.com and author of the book, The Making of Great Comedy which can be found on his website.
I’ve wanted to be a comedian since as far back as I could remember. There were two distinct moments in my life that initiated my desire. When I was in preschool, I vividly remember two teachers discussing the difference between the spelling of a male “comedian” and a female “comedienne”. One of the teachers made a joke about how comediennes sound like Canadians but are less funny. She proceeded to spell out the words in her explanation of the joke. It wasn’t very funny after that, thus, proving her point. Even though I had no idea what they were gabbing about, I felt intrigued just by the word. I think I may have rounded out the day by stealing some communal Legos and taking a nap.
The second instance was in the second grade. I remember this kid named Mark Melchior who would suck the on the neck hole of his Ninja Turtle tee shirts and get spit all over himself. He always looked like he had just finished jogging. He has nothing to do with my memory other than he was in the class.
My realization to become a comedian came when my very Korean teacher, Mrs. Simpson, asked the class to define what it meant for the dinosaurs “to go extinct”. I was leaning back in my chair like a cool kid and just shouted out, “It’s when they just said, ‘See ya’ later. We’re outta here, and we’re not coming back!’”. Comic genius. My response was perfectly timed and my demeanor was so confident that the class laughed out loud. It felt good.
Up until that point in the second grade, I was kind of a bully. I didn’t have many friends and I pummeled the ones I managed to keep. I remember being sad a lot and having long awkward talks with my cat, Max. I felt I had purpose after that and made the most of my natural ability. I started gaining weight make my wit less intimidating and more accessible. I was the funny man in and around school. I was voted the runner-up class clown my senior year of high school.
It wasn’t until the end of my collegiate days, however, that I vocalized my interest in becoming a performer. The idea festered in my mind. The fact that I never acted on the urge to try stand up burned me out mentally. No job ever seemed good enough for me because I was limiting my creative capacity. It led me to belittle myself. I thought the fact that I hadn’t tried it, made me too old to start and made the idea too unreasonable.
After quitting an extremely stupid job, I got fired up about trying stand up comedy. I was scared. I didn’t (and still don’t) want to fail. It’s equally frightening to think that I might succeed. I’m a funny guy and I work hard. I have a shot at a career. I’m scared that I might not be able to keep up the discipline that’s required to become successful.
Even with those fears, encouragement from my friends and loved ones helped me (even after the pummeling). A few months after quitting my job, I wrote some “jokes” and got on stage. I’m glad I tried. I’ve got a long way to go and a lot of work to do. I’m certain that I’m going to do it because I want to do it. This isn’t just a dream; it’s a feeling…and it feels good. I recommend it.
The Blue Moo’d is a jazz bar located in Littleton at the cross streets of Platte Canyon and Bowles (map). The open mic is hosted by Sean (something, something) and starts around 8pm. Get there a little early for sign in. The stage is set up for bands and accommodates performers with a spot light and a great PA. Comics get two free drinks. Check out their acoustic open mic on Tuesday nights as well.
Come one come all to the most thrilling live comedy event there’s ever been. If you want to come, the show is in downtown Littleton at a little bar called Karma. It’s this Saturday (4/10) at 8:00pm…there is a $10.00 cover. If you say you’re with me, your cover will only be $10.00. I will be performing. You’re welcome to come and laugh/hurl rotten fruit.
You’ll often hear that quality is a better attribute than quantity. For most things this is true. While eating my weight in Snickers sounds heavenly, my waistline and wallet are better off if I just savor one or two.
Quality often supersedes quantity but not within the realm of comedy. This sounds counterintuitive. It seems that the comedian with quality material is a better comedian. What gets overlooked in this example is that comedic material takes time to develop.
Rarely is a good joke written. Usually a good joke is one that is rewritten and rehearsed over and over. With time and practice, a joke can evolve into a prized piece. As a series of jokes take shape, a bit forms and soon a comedian might have a decent two minutes.
Of course, not every concept makes a good joke. A comedian must note each idea and invest time and energy turning that idea into a joke. Dozens of ideas a day run a gamut of tests to prove their hilarity. Some make laughs while others find their way into the ever growing pile of bad ideas/my jokes.
It is for this reason that quantity is of the utmost importance in comedy. The more ideas that a comedian has, the more opportunity he has to create quality material. Quantity leads to quality.
So, the next time you hear a comics’ great joke, take a moment and think of the process. Realize it is the quantity of ideas, time and effort that made you giggle and then tip accordingly.
These damn mutts are so wet
If you’ve been following this blog (and there is no doubt in my mind that you haven’t…Google Analytics tells all!), then there is a good chance you’ve noticed a lot of bullsh*t. No, this blog doesn’t answer life’s little riddles and it doesn’t try to sell you something that you really need. What it does is entertain in the most absurd way. Nearly everything you see here is an invention of my scattered brain or a fantastic reaction to the world around me.
The trouble with maintaining that schematic is that while ideas for content are seemingly limitless, for me, they flow like mud. It occurred to me that I can counter my lackluster approach to content entry by adding a series of themed posts. I call it “Quip & Quote” and I will post it as often as there are days that I post.
I will create a quote like quote that will become an instant classic and then explain it with a short quip or cutting jest. It might be as profound as it is profane or not. It’s going to be something that you’ll think you’ve heard before, but will be as original and fresh as store bought bananas. So sit back, open your eyes and your heart. I’m about to take you for a ride.
Quip & Quote:
A person with a negative attitude is attributed by a unwillingness to change and the title of Douche Bag. That is why in this instance, we say:
“A wet stick is not easily broken.”
There comes a time in every relationship when the love is strained. Every couple has their way of managing these shaky times. One of my favorites and usually the subject of many daytime television talk shows is when a couple thinks it’s appropriate to add another person. I’m talking about threesomes or menage a trois. Mixing it up a little seems to be a good treatment for an ailing partnership. I’m here to tell you that it is not.
The game of ‘plus one’ is dangerous. Men think that a shaky relationship can only be saved in the bedroom. His mindset is that if he can get her to “Oh face” one more time, things’ll be saved. But that’s the tricky part. Women think outside the box spring. A woman would sacrifice somewhat on the lovemaking side if it meant a man would treat her right.
But, a man thinks the word threesome automatically assumes that the girl he’s been fantasizing about at work is going to magically accept his gracious offer to sleep with him and his girlfriend or wife. Wrong. A man’s best chance at attracting another woman to aid his failing relationship is probably going to begin and end with a hooker. Like picking a puppy from a pet store, this method will most certainly bankrupt your budget and leave many piss stains on your rugs. Once you bring your new friend, Cinnamon, home to meet the fam, I’m sure you’ll find that things have already gone awry.
I must say, that nothing makes a woman feel more special than a spin around the bed with some other chick driving. Psyche. Women hate that. A girl wants to feel like she’s the only one in the world. Sleeping with you and your wife doesn’t accomplish that goal. Sleeping with you and another girl doesn’t do it for your wife either. My advice: don’t do this, you can’t make the bonds of love stronger by adding another person; it will only strain things further.
For women, however, salvaging a union with a threesome takes on another meaning entirely. Similar to men, the conquest begins in the bedroom. When women think threesome, they think baby. As wonderful as a bundle of joy can be, this is disastrous. For women, a baby signifies a milestone in life and shows the world that they’re fertile and responsible. This is a strong message to send to the bitches from high school. For men, however, a baby means extra expense. The man must work harder and more often to provide for his partner and his newly fashioned love child. As a result, he fills all of his time working and seldom sees the family he fights so hard to preserve. My advice: don’t do this either. Once again, adding another person to a strained relationship will only hurt your chances of sanctity.
A threesome in a strained relationship, no matter how you describe it, is tricky. If you’re serious about an open relationship or having a baby, make sure that the lines of communication as well as the bonds that tie are solid. It’s not a tool for fixing or enhancing. Threesomes are meant for ruining lives. That’s why the only threesomes you know of are from the porno you watch. If you’re having difficulties with your relationship, talk it out. Touch and feel and listen. If that doesn’t work, cut your losses. Chances are there’s a couple of baby makers out there looking to mingle.
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