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.
Tag: gay comedy
WednesDATE: INTERMITTENT
Me: Hey.
Him: Oh, hi.
Me: I noticed you from across the room.
Him: Oh really? Is that so?
Me: Yeah. I was looking at you, here and there, when I was chatting with my friend.
Him: Intermittently.
Me: Yes. Here and there… intermittently… Same thing.
Eryc Perez de Tagle
Him: You were looking at me? Weird.
Me: I think we were looking at each other. You kept making eye contact with me.
Him: Shut UP! I did NOT make eye contact with you!
Me: Oh, okay. I must have misread it. I was trying to make eye contact with you because you’re cute. I thought you were making eye contact. My bad. Cheers.
(I turn to go)
Him: STOP IT!! I was looking at you.
Me: Oh. I thought so… But then why… never mind. How are you tonight?
Him: Whatever. This bar is whatever, don’t you think?
Me: I can’t disagree, given the vague parameters. This bar IS whatever.
Him: “Vague parameters??” Who talks like that??
Me: I do… intermittently. (pause) Get it?
Him: No. Was there a joke?
Me: You made fun of me for using a complicated, pedantic word phrase, and I brought up your earlier use of the word ‘intermittently.’ I thought it was funny.
Him: It wasn’t funny.
Me: It wasn’t funny, ‘haha.’ It was funny, ‘ironic.’ In any case, I have to keep trying.
Him: Oh? Why’s that?
Me: I just do.
Him: What do you do? For a living?
Me: Uh oh. This never goes well.
Him: Oh, come ON! It can’t be that bad. Are you a prostitute?
Me: At my age? No. I’m a comic.
Him: Oh, I don’t like that at all. But what do you do for money?
Me: That’s what I do for money. I’m a comic. I book gigs at colleges and regional theaters and I perform around town doing various stuff, and I teach at and direct the musical program at The Magnet theater.
Him: Magnet Theater? Never heard of it.
Me: It exists. I promise.
Him: How old are you?
Me: Oh man. You’re young aren’t you? I hate answering this question. I’m 36.
Him: That’s okay. I meet old people all the time.
Me: Thank you. We all thank you for charitably spending time with us.
Him: Oh it’s not charitable. I’m charging.
Me: Isn’t that cute? Do you remember seeing me take my heart pills? I can’t seem to remember if I took them or what…
Him: I don’t want you telling jokes. I’m not sure I see myself spending time with a comic.
Me: Right. That’s the second time you’ve said you don’t approve of my occupation. I get it. You don’t like it. What do you do?
Him: I go to Pratt. I’m a visual artist.
Me: Oh, that’s really cool!
Him: No, it’s not. I hate art.
Me: You do? Why would you devote your life to it, if you hate it?
Him: It’s not who I am, it’s just my work, you know?
Me: Not really. Comedy is a lot of who I am. I have my days where I am good at it, but I don’t particularly like doing it, but those days are rare. Usually I really like doing it. I’m not getting rich here, so liking it is pretty important to me.
Him: Yeah, I just don’t like the idea of me becoming friends with a comic, you know? Doesn’t really fit in with my view of what I should be doing with myself.
Me: Thanks for your honesty. I am going to walk away now.
Him: WHY?? Stay here and talk to me!!
Me: I don’t know why I should. You’ve gone out of your way to insult my profession three times. You’ve called me old, and you’ve expressed doubt that you’d even like me much, if you got to know me. I might just quit while I’m ahead. You’re super cute. Have a good night.
Him: Let me buy you a drink. Will you drink a gin and tonic with me?
Me: Um… I mean usually I wouldn’t, but I want you to have to pay money for this conversation to continue, so yes. I’ll have one.
Him: Two gin and tonics, please. Let me explain myself. I think you’re attractive – that’s why I’m standing here. But my worldview is complicated and I don’t define myself by being an artist or a Pratt student so I don’t know why you have to run around going ‘I’m a comic’ all the time.
Me: You asked me about it. You asked what I do.
(pause)
Him: Even so. I don’t like comedy, and I think it’s uncool and annoying, and I’m trying to counterbalance my attraction to you with your age and choice of profession.
Me: Honesty. I like that. Keep going please.
Roger Wingfield
Him: Also, to be perfectly honest, there’s a boy here tonight that I’ve been working for a few dates now, and I want to try to seal the deal with him. Talking to you might not be the smartest thing.
Me: And yet here we are. Okay. Did you pay for the drinks?
Him: Yes.
Me: Thanks for the drink. I’m going home. I should have gone home an hour ago. You’re a real charm boat.
Adam Gardiner
Him: Don’t leave like that.
Me: You’re super cute, but you’ve been pretty rotten to me. I’m going to bed. Have a good night.
Him: Come ON!!!
(surprise ending: I do not come on. I go home alone and sleep like a baby.)
Kristen Yoonsoo Kim
SaturDATE
Him: Come over.
Me: No. You come over here.
Him: No. You come over here.
Me: Noooo… I have writing to get done, and I should bake and photograph stuff…
Him: Your stupid blog….
Me: Yes. And I have to re-write the show. It got picked up for a run.
Him: Come over!
Me: No. Come over.
Him: Come over.
Me: How was your week?
Him: Come over, it was fine.
Me: I have to write.
Him: You’re always writing!
Me: Tell me about it. Plus remember last time? You kept shushing me, even though it was the middle of the day. You were worried that your landlord was listening to us talk.
Him: He is stalking me, I think. I think he’s listening to me have sex and hang out with my friends.
Me: I didn’t know that. I only knew that you wanted me to whisper at 3pm.
Him: Come over. I won’t shush you.
Me: Of course you will. It’s 1am. Is your roommate home?
Him: Yes. We’ll have to be quiet.
Me: No. No way. I’m not coming over. I live alone for a reason. One of those reasons is, I don’t like to tiptoe around after 11:30pm. Come here.
Him: No….
Me: Every time I come over there we make out for a while and then you send me home. I tell you you’re pretty over and over again and you roll your eyes at me. Then I go home with a boner. I think you’re playing games.
Him: I’m not playing games.
Me: I know you are, but I like you anyway.
(pause)
Him: If you come over, we can talk about how good your show was. Plus, I’m really in the mood for sex.
Me: What’s your address again?
Him: Hahahahahahaha!
Me: Ugh. I’m such an ego maniac. Fine. I’ll come over.
Him: Don’t expect me to gush about your show if you do.
Me: You just said… okay fine….
(20 minutes later, at his place)
Me: You still have crates of Honest Tea in your kitchen. That’s the real reason I came over, you know, because I knew you had at least 75 bottles of Honest Tea lying around, and maybe you’d give me one.
Him: SHHHHHH!!! Do you want some Honest Tea?
Me:
#1) Do I want some Honest Tea? No. It’s waaaaay to late for me to have caffeine. I’m like an old lady – can’t have it after 8pm.
#2) Do I want some Honesty? No. We live in a Society. Things grind to a halt if we start being honest with one another.
Him: I hope that joke’s not going into the show.
Me: It wasn’t, but now I’m going to put it in, just to be willful.
Him: Nice. Good luck making it work.
Me: Thanks for all your support.
Him: Will you come over some time and help me hang things?
Me: Pictures and stuff? Sure. Although I kinda dig the minimalist vibe going on here. Also, won’t you just shush me when I bang nails in the wall with the hammer?
Him: SHHHH. No. I will take a break from shushing you.
Me: Well, I suppose it would be wrong of me to deny you help. I’m so tall and you’re such a cute shawtie.
Him: Never mind. I have Architect friends that will help me hang my pictures.
Me: YOU’RE FRIENDS WITH ARCHITECTS???? Wow. I should network more.
Him: Great. Everything’s a joke with you.
(we kiss for a while)
Me: You’re super pretty.
Him: You always say that.
Me: It’s annoying?
Him: It’s manipulative.
Me: I know.
Him: See? You’re being manipulative.
Me: Of course I am. Everyone is. At all times.
Him: What a terrible view of the world.
Me: Not at all. An infant can manipulate its mother, and the mother can manipulate the infant. Every relationship is a negotiation. If you behave this way and say these things, I behave this way and say these things – and so forth.
Him: It just sounds terrible, manipulation.
Me: It has a terrible connotation, the word. But what’s wrong with manipulating someone to feel good about themselves, especially if it’s true. Especially if they really are pretty as hell?
Him: Nothing, but I don’t manipulate people.
Me: Yes you do. You manipulated me into coming over by promising sex and an ego stroke about my show. BTW, I haven’t gotten either yet. You look super sexy in those shorts.
Him: You’re doing it again. I don’t want to feel like you’re part of a movement. I don’t want to be part of a movement.
Me: Well then don’t hang out with a bunch of other Asians who feel like sitting down in front of a tank.
Him: Oh wow. The jokes never stop.
Me: They never do. They never ever do.
Him: I just don’t want to be part of a movement where we all sit around and compliment each other all the time.
Me: Yes. It sounds awful. Look. It’s not damn movement. I just think you’re attractive and I say so. I give compliments, when I think a show is good, or a comic is funny, or a guy i kiss is pretty… Can we just kiss? I want to kiss you.
(we kiss for a while longer)
This isn’t going to escalate to sex, is it?
Him: I don’t really feel like it tonight.
Me: You’re the one being manipulative, I think. Who booty calls someone and then no booty?
Him: Don’t say that! My friends always say that about me and it drives me nuts.
Me: Your ARCHITECT friends? They’re probably right. But you’re still likable.
Him: Stay over.
Me: Writing. I have to do my writing.
Him: Okay. I’ll walk you out.
Me: Can I have some Honest Tea for the road?
Him: Sure, do you want one?
Me: No. I just think it’s funny you have crates of it in your kitchen.
Him: Thanks for kissing me.
Me: Thanks. You’re sweet, and kind, and I’m lying. I barely like you, but there’s something about you I can’t get away from.
(pause)
Me: Will you say it?
Him: Me? Sure, I guess. Right now?
Me: Yeah. This has been going on for a while now. Just try to fit it into the narrative.
Him: How’s this?
(pause)
Thanks for coming over.
Jerk.
Me: That works.
Feel Better, Japan
Oh Jesus. Are you kidding me? A BENEFIT? I have to make and DONATE a pie? Why?
Oh. Japan. That’s right. Sorry. I’m self absorbed. It’s a real problem.
Of course I’ll make a pie for a benefit for Japan. What am I a monster? Yes. But I’ll do it anyway.
My friend Kirk pretended to go to Japan. About four or five months ago he started telling everyone in the New York sketch and improv communities about how he booked a show in Tokyo. He was going to play a role in Picasso at the Lapin Agile. It was an elaborate ruse. He stopped coming to The Upright Citizen’s Brigade where he performs regularly while he was ‘in Japan.’ He even set up a sham tumblr where he photographed food and tried to convince people that breakfast can talk.
Sidebar: This is Corey. I know, right? DOING!! He’s a really nice guy and he helped me make the pie for the Kettle of Fish Benefit for Japan.
He’s a dancer. He just got back from doing a dance show in Pennsylvania, and now he’s traveling around the country, judging dance contests. That’s what he does for a living. Pretty cool right? He’s been asking to be on the blog for a while, and what am I stupid? Of course he can. He’s successful and beautiful. (doing!)
So, back to Kirk – he claimed to have a friend from school who runs an ex-pat theater company in Tokyo. Also, he claims that the show was written by Steve Martin, which doesn’t make any sense because why would Steve Martin write a play about a guy who’s obsessed with cake puppets and female roller derby.?? But we all went along with it. We joked to each other things like “Oh me too!! I’m going to Afghanistan to star in Sylvester Stallone’s performance art installation piece about British Colonialism. He’s not even known as a movie star there! It’s where he gets the real work done.”
We made a triple berry pie. It had Strawberries, Blueberries and Raspberries. I found all of them cheap and ripe at the local Korean market. People always ask me to post recipes, but I don’t. Mostly because I improvise a lot of my pie fillings. Here’s what I did: An assload of strawberries. Like, Two big things. A titload of blueberries: two small things or whatever. and a little penisload of raspberries. One tiny thing. They’re tart and they can take over. I stirred all that together with a couple of tablespoons of corn starch, and a couple of heaping tablespoons of sugar. I put some powdered ginger to brighten up the tartness of the berries.
“Oh, I’m leaving town too!! Me too!! Carnie Wilson wrote an opera and we’re doing it in Dresdin in this huge bomb shelter that’s been converted to an ampitheater. It’s about the Irish Potato Famine and Feminism. She’s real down to earth. I hear she might bring her dad, Brian Wilson, but that’s just a rumor.”
We dotted the filling with butter. About two tablespoons, give or take. I eyeballed it.
I put an egg wash on the pie too – just the whites, because I’m racist. Then I sprinkled it with cinnamon sugar.
There was a really funny improv team that performed at the benefit. They’re called Thank You Robot. They had a great set. I kept mentioning to one of the team members (who I don’t know at all) that Kirk was the absolute wrong choice to host a show, and didn’t anyone realize how he was just milking this earthquake benefit to call attention to his tumblr about his fake trip to Japan. The guy kept talking about how great Kirk is and asking me if I’d been drinking a lot. I told him that I was totally sober and didn’t anyone realize that Kirk keeps bidding on the prizes where you get to be alone with girls?
Anyway. I was just joking, guy from Thank You Robot. I think Kirk was a funny, charming host. I just like to break balls. It’s the only real way I can show affection. Well, that, and… ‘pie making.’
That’s Kirk and Poupak. Poupak runs the UCB Difference Tumblr. They both helped organize the benefit.
Corey was fun and easy going. It has been a while since I’ve seen him, and we had a good time together. I’d have him back anytime.
And guys, listen. Kirk’s not a bad guy. He’s funny and charismatic and charming. So he made up a theater gig in Japan, and created an elaborate hoax to support that theory – so what? He’s my friend. And listen, if you’re in the New York sketch/improv comedy community – I say, let’s just humor him about it, huh? Let’s all pretend that he actually went to Japan, and actually lived through the earthquake there. What’s the harm? Becasue the end result was a great, fun, funny benefit. A good amount of money was raised to help Japan, which is a real place (I checked).
I mean look at that face. You’re not a monster are you? Yes, of course you are, but why spoil Kirk’s fun? He doesn’t read this blog (he thinks it will make him gay), so if we all agree, we can just pretend that he went to Japan. That will make us kind, benevolent friends… Because what are we, without our delusions? We’re nothing. Artists are nothing without their delusions.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go back to being an internet superstar. Jerks.
PIEFOLK 