comedy – Page 3

The Ficus is Dead

November 25, 2012 by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

drawings by lex millena

Him: Oh hey.

Me: What? Shit. Hey! Happy Thanksgiving.

Him: Happy Thanksgiving sweetie. Are you here alone?

Me: Yeah. I went to a few friends. Now I’m here. I don’t know why. Where’s Jason?

Him: He went to get cigarettes, he’ll be back in 20 minutes or so.

Me: Ugh. You guys are still smoking? I thought you almost kicked that when we were together…

Him: I never really stopped. I just only had 2 or 3 a week.

Me: I know. I smelled it on you, from time to time. I didn’t always mention it.

Him: I knew you knew.

Me: I knew you knew I knew.

Him: I knew that too.

Me: We were very passive aggressive towards each other.

Him: We were. You are.

Me: Okay, okay. Thanks for saying hi!

(pause)

Me: I understand you and Jason bought a car and a house together.

Him: I guess word travels fast.

Me: I hear things. We’re both in comedy. People talk.

Him: It’s funny, I’d never think to say that. “I’m in comedy.”

Me: You are. The bulk of your money comes from comedy.

Him: I think of myself more as a writer.

Me: Yes. You’ve gotten very good.

Him: Oh, have you read?

Me: Yes. I follow you online, here and there, when I can stomach it.

Him: Ouch.

Me: Oh stop. I’m sure you don’t read my blog.

Him: That’s correct – I don’t.

Me: Okay so, fine. Well I read your stuff sometimes. You’ve gotten quite good.

Him: I’m glad you think so.

Me: I mean, I’m not nuts about reading about myself, but it’s very good writing, so that’s flattering, I guess.

Him: I don’t write about you. I write fiction.

Me: But some things are based on me.

Him: Some elements of some of my characters share parts of your behavior patterns or point of view. But I wouldn’t say I’m writing about you.

Me: No, of course you wouldn’t. But even so, it’s funny that as soon as I start recognizing myself in your writing, the very next thing I notice is an attitude of contempt from the narrator toward the ‘me’ character. It’s not my favorite thing in the world.

Him: You’ll never believe this, but I don’t write about you.

Me: I don’t write about you often, either. It’s good writing, Carson. Congrats on getting published. That’s huge. And I heard about the grant too.

Him: It’s political. I’m good at politics.

Me: You’re a good writer.

Him: Well thank you.

Me: You’re welcome. And you’re right. I’ll never believe that you’re not writing about me. We lived together for 8 years. I worked you through grad school.

Him: Let’s not start down this path again.

Me: Of course not. It’s a holiday, and in any case I have no regrets.

Him: I’m glad to hear that. Neither do I.

Me: How big of us.

(a very long pause. we stare across the bar and survey the crowd. we don’t make eye contact)

To Be Continued…

Vote for Mitt Romney

November 6, 2012 by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

It’s Election Day.

You should really vote.

I don’t care for who, but if you don’t vote for the robot black man who married a drag queen then I won’t give you any pie.

But, if you disagree, you’re not alone.

Here’s a song from my friends Ryan Dunkin and Lorraine Cink, who think you should definitely vote for Mitt Romney:

Showtime

November 4, 2012November 4, 2012 by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

Her: But he always does that. Haven’t you noticed?

Me: Does what?

Her: Won’t say yes to your idea. His is always better. You haven’t noticed that? He has NO RESPECT for the work. We’re trying to improvise a show here! Doesn’t he? I mean… Fucker. I know he hates me.

Me: Of course he hates you.

(long pause)

Her: What?

(long pause)

Me: Nothing.

(long pause)

Her: What’s that supposed to mean?

Me: Nothing. He’s Kyle’s best friend. He thinks you’re the devil. You can see that, right?

(pause)

Me: Let’s just get ready for this show. Huh? He’s funny. You’re funny. No bigs, right? Let’s change the subject.

Her: Let’s go into this grocery store.

Me: Why? Do you need something?

Her: I’m a little hungry. We’ve got 20 minutes to kill before we warm up. Come on.

(we enter the store)

Her: Ooh! Look at this. Marshmallows! Yummy right? Pretty. Don’t you want to eat them?

Me: I’m full, but you should get some if you’re hungry.

Her: No. They’re made of cow hooves. I just remembered. Don’t you think he’s a little bit of a steamroller? I mean, he just powers through scenes. There’s no subtlety.

Me: He’s a big player. He plays big. What do you want? He’s fucking hilarious.

Her: See. That’s what bugs me. He gets rewarded for doing bad improv. He doesn’t support. Oooh! Look at this melon.

Me: It’s a watermelon.

Her: But doesn’t it look great? He’s a dick.

Me: He’s not a dick. You can’t buy a whole watermelon right before we do a show.

Her: Why not?

Me: You won’t be able to cut it open. He’s just super aggressive with his moves and so are you. It can cause friction.

Her: I’m not aggressive!

Me: You are. It’s a good thing, remember?

Her: I’m not aggressive like he is.

Me: I mean…

Her: I’m not! Am I?

Me: Yes. You’re aggressive. We all have our shows where we’re barreling through. I have to remind myself to slow down. What about a granola bar?

Her: I don’t want a granola bar – ooooh, look at these pickles! They look so good!

Me: When did pickles become 11 dollars?

Her: They’re artesianal.

Me: They’re cucumbers. Are you hungry or what?

Her: Whydoyouask?

Me: Jeez. I dunno, Ellen. I guess because every time you’re stressed out over a show you take me to a grocery store and look at food items you don’t purchase.

Her: Is that weird?

Me: A little. I mean, especially knowing you had an issue with anorexia.

Her: I usually eat some bread and cheese in the morning to make sure I have some protein inside me.

Me: That’s not reassuring. I’m sorry to tell you this, but yes, we’re all aggressive sometimes. And yes, Carl hates you. You broke his best friend’s heart. You had an affair with one actor in the show, and then you had an affair with another, and you expect everyone to just get along, when both men loved you.

Her: I LOVED THEM TOO. I’m not a monster in all this!

Me: I’m not saying you’re a monster. I’m saying, people can’t always put their feelings aside and do the show.

Her: I can.

Me: Can you?

Her: YES. I’m a professional. He’s not. I’m only aggressive in scenes with him!

Me: That’s not true, but even if it was – how is that you putting your feelings aside?!

Her: He hates women! He doesn’t do that with you, does he? He can’t stand an assertive woman improviser, that’s what it is.

Me: That might be part of it. You’re aggressive onstage.

Her: Assertive.

Me: AGGRESSIVE. And yes. Comedy is full of immature boys that condescend to women. Please don’t start crying. We have to do a show in ten minutes. Come on. Let’s go.

Her: (still crying) Why does everyone hate me?

Me: They don’t… because they’re jealous of you. You have a big talent and it’s intimidating to them. They probably don’t even know they’re jealous of you. You’re a force to be reckoned with. Look, we all love each other, even when we get jealous. We all love being here, and respect each other.

Her: How do I know you’re not just saying that because we’re going onstage right now?

Me: You don’t. You just – we have to trust each other. I’m on your side. Okay?

Her: I guess.

Me: I’m sorry I brought this up at the wrong time. I was a jerk for doing that. Will you eat something?

Her: No.

Me: Okay. Let’s go. It’s showtime.

A Special Man

October 24, 2012February 27, 2013 by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

erwin caluya

Her: Hey. I read that.

Me: What?

Her: That book. Are you reading Bossypants?

Me: Oh! Yes. I love it. I think Tina Fey is inspiring.

Her: Yes. It certainly seems like she’s carved out her own path. So what are you doing here, at a bar, in the middle of the afternoon?

Me: Ha. Good question. I was just thinking the same thing…

Her: Ah. But that’s not an answer.

Me: I’m waiting for a date.

Her: Oh. Very nice.

Me: That remains to be seen.

Her: Oh? First date?

Me: Yeah. First date. I’ve never met him.

Her: Is it a blind date?

Me: Sort of? I don’t think people do that anymore. I met him online.

Her: That sounds so exciting. The prospect of meeting a stranger online in real life. That’s not something someone from my generation does very easily. It seems scary.

Me: It’s not. You chat with the guys for a while before you meet up. Just to be sure they’re not a crystal meth addict or anything.

(pause)

Her: What do you do for a living? I’m sorry. That’s a cliche question. I’m not from New York, and when I come here I often wonder how people survive.

Me: Uh… I teach improv classes mostly, and do comedy gigs.

Her: Oh! I love improv! I just LOVE it. It’s magical.

Me: Really? Most people just tolerate it.

Her: No, it’s truly a wonderful thing. So glorious to see people working together, and agreeing. The spontaneity. There’s a real connection between the audience and the actors.

Me: That’s true.

Her: I really love it. I was very fond of a man who did improv – a long time ago…

Me: Did he? Was he good?

(pause)

Her: He was great. I like to think I’m kind of responsible. I took him to his first ever show at the Groundlings. He jumped up on stage with them and started playing.

Me: Wow. Really? Were they weirded out?

Her: No. You’d think they would be, but they weren’t. He was so good at it, even before he took any classes. He was such a natural.

(long pause)

Her: I was married to Phil Hartman.

(long pause)

Her: I was his first wife. He married a few times.

Me: Oh. Okay. Sorry. I thought…

Her: You thought I was the woman who shot him.

Me: For a second, yeah.

Her: No. I’m not. But I know her.

Me: I… That must be horrible. She must be very disturbed.

Her: She was very disturbed, and I can’t say that I’ll ever forgive her. But I’ve gotten to the point where I feel sorry for her. She was a very self-absorbed, very selfish woman. She was like poison for him, but he was so drawn to her.

Me: It can be hard being with funny people. Being their partners.

Her: I’ve heard that, but that was never the case with Phil. He was so loving, and such a wonderful man. He loved making people laugh. It was his reason for living.

Me: I get that. I do get that for sure.

Her: I know you do. I love improv. I love people that can just do that. It’s a gift. You have a gift.

Me: I’m trying to think of something self-deprecating to say, but who am I to argue with Phil Hartman’s wife?

Her: Exactly. Except I’m someone else’s wife now.

Me: That’s good. So you’re happy?

Her: I am.

Me: Good. Hey –

Her: What?

Me: Did it hit you hard? When he was killed?

Her: Yes. Yes it did. He was my best friend, for a long time. Even after our divorce he and I were very close.

Me: I’m so sorry. He’s one of my idols. He was a great man.

Her: That’s a good way to put it. Can I tell you a secret?

Me: Okay.

Her: The night that he died, I had a dream. I hadn’t thought about him for such a long time. But in my dream I was getting ready to go somewhere, and I was late. And I was annoyed. And my husband was nowhere to be found. And suddenly Phil appeared in my bathroom, where I was putting on my makeup. And I was shocked. And flustered. And he was the last person I wanted to see. But then he put his hand on my shoulder, and all I felt was calm, and warm. I felt loved. And he said, “So many people love you. I love you. And this is all gonna be okay.”

Me: Wow.

Her: I had this dream almost exactly the time he was shot. Very near to that time.

Me: Wow.

Her: I feel like it was him visiting me, one last time. I feel like he wanted me to know that he loved me. And I do. I know he loved me.

Me: That’s amazing.

Her: I feel like a shot. Should we get a shot? What do you drink?

Me: Bourbon. But I don’t –

Her: Can we have two bourbons? I have to leave to make dinner with my husband, but can we?

Me: Yeah. We can.

(pause)

Me: Hey. Thanks.

Her: What?

Me: Thanks for being open. That felt really good. Thank you.

Her: Thank you.

Me: For what?

Her: For being funny. Thank you.

Me: I wasn’t being funny.

Her: I know. But thanks for being a funny person.

Me: You haven’t seen me perform. What if I’m not funny?

Her: I know – but what if you are?

Me: That’s even more scary.

Her: Exactly. That’s even more scary. But that’s a whole other conversation.

Chasing Waterfalls

September 28, 2012 by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

eryc perez de tagle

Him: Hey. Come in. Sorry it’s so sparse.

Me: Wow. This apartment is amazing.

Him: It’s sparse. Furniture is coming next week.

Me: It’s still amazing. What a great place!

Him: I dunno. I liked my last apartment better. It was bigger.

Me: It’s a good size for one person – there’s a bedroom over here, right? And you have a waterfall in your lobby! That’s my measure of whether or not someone lives in a nice apartment building.

Him: What? I don’t get it?

Me: You don’t live in a nice apartment building unless you have a waterfall in your lobby.

(long pause)

Him: I’m sorry, I don’t think that’s true.

Me: It isn’t. I was just joking. Nice place.

Him: Ugh. I drank so much scotch last night.

Me: Oh no! That’s awful.

Him: It’s okay. Let’s have a drink. That will fix my hangover.

Me: I dunno – I gotta do a late night comedy set later.

Him: It’s just one drink. Don’t act like it’s the end of the world. Do you want a drink or not? Have one.

Me: I…

Him: You’re having one.

Me: I’m having one.

(long pause)

Him: Yeah so… This is my place…

Me: It’s very nice.

Him: Yeah. My last place was bigger, but I’m only here on the weekends, so…

Me: Where are you during the week?

Him: I work in California.

Me: Really?

Him: Yeah. I usually fly out on Tuesdays and work a four day week, and fly back on Fridays.

Me: That sounds exhausting.

Him: It’s just an airplane ride. I take my laptop and get work done.

Me: What do you do? For work?

Him: I consult with hospitals on how to get their operations to run more efficiently.

Me: That sounds fascinating.

Him: It’s boring.

Me: You’re right, that sounds boring.

Him: Come lay on this rug with me.

Me: What?

Him: I don’t have a couch and I just bought this rug. Come on. Do it.

Me: Okay…

Him: Let’s make out.

Me: Okay?

(we make out. it is awkward.)

Him: Wow. You’re really making me horny. We better stop this. What are you trying to pull?

Me: Nothing. You wanted to…

Him: I should have jerked off. Should we have sex? That would solve the horny problem.

Me: It said on your profile that you wait for 6 dates or more before you have sex.

Him: Yeah, that’s why we shouldn’t be doing this. You’re making it hard for me.

Me: I’m… sorry?

Him: What are you anyway?

Me: What?

Him: Sexually. Which position are you?

Me: Oh… Wow. I’m versatile. I do both.

Him: Okay. Good to know.

Me: What about you?

Him: What about me what?

Me: Are you a top or a bottom?

(he shoots me a disdainful look)

Him: Well if you must know… I’m a top.

Me: Haha!

Him: What’s so funny?

Me: You just asked me out of the blue if I was a top or bottom, and when I answered and then posed the same question to you, you acted like I was violating some sort of etiquette. That’s kind of funny, right?

(long pause)

Him: What else do you do. Besides comedy. What do you do for money?

Me: I do comedy gigs and teach improv classes.

Him: What do you do for a living?

Me: I do comedy gigs and teach improv classes.

Him: What about that site? I went there. I looked at the pics.

Me: Did you read it?

Him: No, why?

Me: Just curious. I do that too, but that’s not for money. That’s just for me to record awkward dates.

Him: What?

Me: I post anonymous dialogues from really awkward dates on that site.

Him: I think it’s time for you to leave.

Me: Seriously? I told you to check out my site before we met. It’s listed on my OkCupid profile.

Him: I really need to get some laundry done, and didn’t you say you have a gig to go to?

Me: In a few hours, but I can meet up with friends beforehand.

Him: Okay. I’ll walk you out. You should walk in front of me. I don’t want you walking behind me.

Me: What? Why?

Him: I don’t want you checking out my ass. It should be the other way around. I believe I told you I’m a top.

Me: Oh that’s right! I believe I DO remember you mentioning something like that.

(long pause)

Me: Well. It was lovely to meet you. You have a lovely apartment, and there’s a waterfall in your lobby.

Him: My other place was bigger. We should hang out again.

Me: What should we do, go to the park?

Him: Yeah. Or I could top you.

(long pause)

Me: You’re a very charming man. I’ll walk out in front of you, so you don’t get ass raped by my eyeballs.

Him: Okay. Let’s try and hang out again. Shoot for next week?

Me: Definitely! This was amazing and not at all horrible!

Him: I feel the same way. Text me.

Me: Count on it!

(surprise ending – i did not text him the next week)

Video From RISK

August 21, 2012 by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

Here’s video of me telling a story at Kevin Allison’s RISK LIVE show in New York City.

Kevin, I’m honored, and I’d do it any time. It was a blast.

Thanks, buddy.

Text Message

August 19, 2012 by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

RISK podcast

August 11, 2012 by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

I got to tell a story at the RISK storytelling show a few weeks ago.

It was fun, and full of awesome, interesting people – including handsome, hilarious comic Sheng Wang.

I was worried about how my story would go, because it involved running around naked with my brother in a rain storm, and giving myself an enema in the front yard after taunting the neighbors. But the audience loved it – it killed!

RISK! is a live show and podcast “where people tell true stories they never thought they’d dare to share in public” hosted by Kevin Allison, of the legendary TV sketch comedy troupe The State. The award-winning live show happens monthly in New York and Los Angeles.

Notorious Rice Queen Kevin Allison

It’s featured people like Janeane Garofalo, Lisa Lampanelli, Kevin Nealon, Margaret Cho, Marc Maron, Sarah Silverman, Lili Taylor, Rachel Dratch, Andy Borowitz and more, dropping the act and showing a side of themselves we’ve never seen before. The weekly podcast gets hundreds of thousands of downloads each month. Slate.com called it “jaw-dropping, hysterically funny, and just plain touching.”

I’m on this week’s podcast with one of my heroes – comedy goddess Kerri Kenny-Silver. She is hilarious and if you don’t know of her, you’re an asshole.

You can download my episode of the podcast here.

Just to warn you, I do talk about giving myself an enema in public, and shooting a turd out of my butt like a poop cannon. You’re welcome, Mom and Dad.

Enjoy the RISK podcast.

Jerks.