#timikahall

[martywurst]

YEAR 2: The Worst Comedian (Part 2)

I had an encounter with former Comedy Store talent coordinator, Tommy, who was fired just months prior and was working on developing another home base where he could still play comedy godfather. The Vaucluse Lounge was a mere two blocks away from the Comedy Store and now Tommy was recruiting comics that were still loyal to him and putting on shows. They were calling this place Chaplin's House, but I don't think there was anything historic about it.

It really was an impressive bar/lounge, but management was falling apart. It was a ghost town. I ordered their onion rings and got a pile of American cheese on a couple of turd circles (psst, I'm not really a writer). I ordered something disgusting and got so much more.

"Ooh, that looks good, I'm gonna get that!" one comic said, pinching and stretching some cheese off my plate.

A couple of nights the place was locked up unannounced, black curtains drawn, even though a show was supposed to be going on. Headliners were bailing before their sets.

There were a couple of open mics going on there, too. Tommy would play some acoustic guitar for 30 minutes to get the room warmed up. He played the same three songs over and over. Or maybe it was just the same three chords, I can't remember. He was like one of those dudes that destroy a party by forcing us to listen to a cover of Hotel California. Strictly Hollywood Blvd quality. Then he would hang out for the mic and occasionally give advice to some lucky comic.

After one of my sets, he was suddenly next to me, talking into my ear like David Blaine.

"There's something that's still missing, but I don't know what it is."

"I'm not connecting with the audience?" I asked.

"There was just something missing. Try sitting on a stool and just saying your material, so it's not so (in-your-face gesture) forced. Your material is good, it had an intelligence and you have a good look. It's not about how you look on stage, it's about how you look on camera....really. But I think you just need to say what you have to say- I took it in. You'll get there, I enjoyed it."

Then he patted me on the shoulder and walked away.

Maybe if I worked hard enough I could become a Vaucluse regular! I honestly thought it was cool to get advice from Tommy, despite him being a reputed racist douchebag. I mean, he was once the apprentice of The Comedy Store owner Mitzi Shore, so his opinion has to count for something, right? A racist's opinion is still an opinion. Plus, he really wailed on the guitar!

One night at Vaucluse I waited around for 2 hours to do a 10 minute set. That's actually a good set for that kind of wait, but this night was excruciating. There was a line-up of all male comics that had plenty to say about the opposite sex: Stories varied from "This bitch was sucking my dick," to "I wanted to give her brown eye a black eye!" and so forth. I remember hearing the bartender making pained noises behind the counter, like some victim of a stabbing. left for dead. She had to just stand there and take it...every worthless comedian. Worst of all, EVERYONE got 10 minutes. When the first 30 seconds are torture, the next 9 1/2 feel like a lifetime. When they finally got to me the host said,

"Uhh, you get 2 minutes."

I've never been that pissed at an open mic before. Mother...FUCKER. They were letting the worst people host, nothing ever started on time, the food was godawful, the bartender wanted to kill herself, and no one seemed to give a shit that the place was falling apart. I was mentally trying to stay positive and tune out all the negative shit I'd been listening to, but now I wanted to douse myself in gasoline and tackle the host into the fireplace--that would be such a great closer. My stomach was turning from the onion rings, so I opted for my shitty set instead.

But hey, it's 2 minutes so I did it. I got through a joke-and-a-half. Once I left, I cursed and muttered angrily all the way to the bus, letting the "cocksuckers" and "motherfuckers" fly.

I went home and looked at their Facebook page and saw this ridiculous post,

"Chaplin's House is being called the New Comedy Store...no joke."

Nobody's laughing.

Anyway, that place folded and Tommy moved on to another space where he still occasionally gives out his comedy pointers.

Also in my second year I was doing fewer bringer shows, but I still got roped into a couple more at Flappers. I would quickly get stressed out again and moan to my girlfriend about why I put myself through this. Just reading the emails made me want to puke:

Respond to this email with a head count of how many audience you expect so that we can properly staff the room. 

It takes everyone involved to have epic shows--we do ask everyone to always aim to have at least 5 people per show.  If you are unable to get anyone out please let us know and we will re-schedule you for a date that is more convenient for you to support.

Like I said before, they only want me back when I make some fucking friends!

I decided to not show up at all and go to the Rebel Bite open mic in Long Beach instead. An open mic at a pizza joint was better than doing a bringer show, at least in my head. I wrote back:

Sorry for the delay,   I wanted to get a more accurate count of zero confirmed.    I think my friends tapped out months ago.  Let me know if you want to reschedule or give me the boot.  Or I'll audition again once I have a little fanbase I can depend on instead of wasting everybody's time. Nothing personal.  Thanks.

I shouldn't have felt bad about it anyway, since I bought 4 of my videotaped sets from them.

Then there was the Formosa Cafe. I did it because I was told it wasn't REALLY a bringer show...just sort of. Uggh. I won't mention the names. I can still hear the producer pretending to laugh at other people's sets--so forced and obvious, trying to get the crowd on our side. He'd be looking down at his phone and let out a

"BWAHAHAHAHA!"

Then I'd have to listen to some jerk-off host do his Family Guy impressions for 15 minutes. Then the producer would go up and do the most dated material--many of these bringer show people stick to their one routine. Anyway, what do I know, they're the ones cashing in, right?

I had friends show up for my first and second show, then the third time none of my friends came out and the producer stopped booking me. During past shows, he was blowing smoke up my ass and said all these nice things about my particular brand of humor, but he was only thinking about the head-count. He was a phony just like his forced laughter.

 There were some nice moments. My blues buddy, Street Slim invited me to do a set at The Rainbow Bar and Grill, a really cool rock bar on The Sunset Strip. Just to do something outside the ring of comedians that I was usually bumping heads with felt really special.

My friend Donald and I rented out a black box theater and produced a variety show. It ran 2 1/2 hours and half the audience left, but we had a great time.

I co-produced a comedy show with Jeanne Whitney and Timika Hall at Echoes Under Sunset. We only did 3 shows, but it was a fantastic experience.

I remember bombing at the new UCB on Sunset and when I was walking back to the car, a couple I've never seen before starts yelling at me from their car.

"Marty, you were funny!"

"What?"

"We were inside."

"Really? Thanks, it felt like death in there."

"We thought you were funny."

"Working on it, working on it."

That blew my mind. Who does that? And they remembered my name!

One time they moved a Comedy Store open mic into the Main Room and after we finished our sets, Bill Burr dropped in and did 15 minutes to an all-comic crowd. It was awesome.

Another time I was waiting around for Tony Bartolone's Hat Show to start and the great Rick Shapiro was outside with Rick Wood and Jeremy Bassett. Shapiro was making fun of the Oldtown Pasadena scene and he suddenly gets a glimmer in his eye and this evil grin,

"Let's go to the Mac Store and jerk off!"

It was said with such demented glee. Later we went to get him some Starbucks and he told the barista that his name was Johnny Two Chicks. He was so excited to hear the name called out, but it didn't get the reaction he wanted.

 Then there was the time that I was waiting in the green room for another possible Kill Tony episode at the Comedy Store. Dom Irrera comes in and sits down across from me. It's silent, it's uncomfortable, the guy is amazing, so I'm a little in awe. He asks me if I'm a comic and how long I've been doing it. Very friendly, but I just gave him short answers. Meanwhile, Pat Regan was on stage singing about how much he misses getting jacked off in San Francisco, and Dom and I are just sitting there while this song is in the background. Dom turns to me completely serious and says,

"This song brings back a lot of memories." I barked out a laugh.

I started making goofy set-lists and posting them online. Just a good way to vent about the shit I'd seen at open mics during the week. Here are a few of my favorites:

The usual variety of homophobic/misogynistic shit I'd hear on any given week.

 My second Kill Tony appearance went a little better, but only because I managed to get a few laughs. It was a unique situation because I brought my buddy Dakota Freeman with me, but he was under 21 and wouldn't be allowed inside the club unless he was called up to perform. So I stood outside with him, listening through the door every few minutes to see if we'd get called.

About 30 minutes into the show I got called, but I couldn't open the door from the outside. For a second, the hosts thought I had flaked, but a couple of my friends were in the audience, telling them I was behind the door because I was with a minor. They opened the door for me and at this point there was some confusion because the hosts were under the impression that I was the one underage. Then when it was cleared up Tony says,

"Oh, you're hanging out with underage boys. Ok!"

Before I've even started my set, another pedophile joke had been spiked over my head. You can probably see where this is going.

I didn't gain any Twitter followers this time--in fact, I think I lost a couple.  They probably thought I was really a pedophile.

 Gradually, I found some open mics down in Long Beach, where I had moved in with my girlfriend. There was the SOM open mic at the Rebel Bite pizzeria, The Library Coffeehouse, Blacklight District Lounge and Makai Coffee.

Now if I wasn't feeling the LA scene that week, I had the option to hit some mics in my neighborhood. Rebel Bite, Makai, and The Library were just a mile away. Long Beach was also calmer. I could do longer sets- I did my first 15 minute set at Rebel Bite. I met some nice people. It's funny how these two coffee shops were the polar opposite in terms of an audience--take a look below.

I was also hearing some positive feedback for a change. Sometimes my conceptual ideas would play well and even if they didn't, I'd still be writing the kind of stuff I wanted to try. The support I was getting from my new friends gave me the confidence to try bigger ideas. Showing up to mics and finally having a group of friends to talk to was a nice break. I was so used to being the creeper that was eavesdropping outside a circle of comedy nerds or asking Dean Delray stupid questions in the Comedy Store hallway. Complimenting comics on their podcasts, or a joke that I liked, thinking I always had to go in with a compliment or they'd hate my guts. Then I would fuck up their name anyway, which made the compliment null and void.

I'm still learning to relax, but I'm usually amped up whenever I'm in Los Angeles. I feel the cutthroat competition and that air of judgement. Mostly because I'm carrying it around with me--turn that shit off Wurst, these are your friends! I don't have to prove anything to these comics, we're all showing up to the same mic. Charles Disney was just saying how we ask questions that we want to be asked in return,

"You got any cool gigs coming up? No? NOW ASK ME IF I HAVE ANY COOL GIGS! THANK YOU, I DO! SLEEPAWAY CAMP BABY-MARGARET CHO HEADLINING! ENJOY YOUR SHOW AT P.F. CHANG'S, YA ASIAN FUSION COMIC! "

There's usually 4-5 standard questions (How you doing, got anything coming up, you hitting another mic after this, you ever go to Marty's?) and if there's no conversation beyond that, we're not really friends. It's just surface level pleasantries for insecure comics.

Then there are just genuinely great dudes like Spencer Kalendar, who's never putting on airs and makes me feel like I can just be myself. I think the very first thing he said to me was,

"I remember you from Kill Tony, you're the pedophile guy!"

[martywurst]

My First and Worst Year: Producing A Show

I get caught up in the gossip. Shitting on comedians that I barely know. I'm trying to stop that. Early on, I was one those guys that would say something negative because I was trying to start a dialogue and reinforce any negative feelings I had about someone. Usually based in nothing; maybe one lousy first impression or through the grapevine on Facebook. Unfortunately, talking shit is a major way to bond with other inexperienced comics. A lot of miserable, sarcastic, unmotivated, boring comics. Or 10+ year comics that bitch about how unfair everything is. They can't talk to you for 30 seconds without shitting on something.

Now I know that's not me. I never feel good about it and it never helps.

The comics I look up to are modest, rarely say anything bad about anyone because they're just focused. They don't feed the fire. I'd rant about something and they wouldn't have anything to add to it. Maybe something along the lines of,

"Yeah, that can happen," kind of response.

I'd see the look on their face. I'm the problem.

I was the same way in Junior High. Picking on the popular kids and being obnoxious because I was so desperate to be a part of their circle. Afraid to be myself. Afraid to put in that kind of work.

I'll be obsessed with some idiot for hours on a Facebook thread, so tempted to participate in the attack, but where is it going to get me? Fuck, I could've written something. I should be writing jokes now, but I think I know something about blogging and comedy! I feel like I'm just regurgitating boring opinions that have been voiced on hundreds of podcasts already, I'll try to pepper this section up! Check out this sweet ass pimp kitty vest!

 I always want to prove myself to other comics. An audience of strangers is always amazing, but I do feel the pressure of an all-comic mic. It's way too important to me. I don't want to be written off, I know I can be funny. Maybe not the last 20 times you saw me, but I'll get there, don't write me off!

When I had a decent set in front of someone I respected, I felt like I could check that off. Okay, that person doesn't think I'm a piece of shit anymore. I proved myself. Getting closer to being an actual comic! Every good set is a stepping stone. My bad sets would just temporarily render me useless. Instead of doing my homework and adjusting, I would just write something new or beat a bad joke into the ground. Maybe it'll work the 27th time.

"The people that go to Burning Man only need these two words to communicate: Burning...man!"

*crickets slashing wrists*

I bombed in front of Sean Conroy and took it kind of hard. Intimidating dude, (like the Ron Perlman of improvisation) he was sitting in the front row at Echoes Under Sunset with his arms crossed, waiting for his set and just watching me hang myself. He'd probably seen a thousand variations of the heckler character I was doing. I picked on him in character, but he wouldn't roll with it. Why would he? It was more fun to watch me squirm.

Every time I asked him a question he would answer,

"Sure."

Which is sort of the "fuck you" version of "yes and,"  It's an improv thing.

I was berating the audience for being a bunch of hipsters. Yelling out,

"Well I got something for ALL OF YOU!"

Then I started handing out free coffee coupons from a local coffee shop. Sean politely declined.

I had my bombing routine where I would call up Claire afterwards and tell her I just ate shit. Or who I ate shit in front of. She would convince me that it was okay, everybody bombs, and remind me that I'd had good sets before. She would tell me that she loved me and make me feel better about what had happened. Oh, there is life after tomorrow, I forgot! Thanks, baby!

Claire understands the grind. She's a fan of a lot of the people I look up to and we listen to a lot of the same podcasts now. She got into Jen Kirkman and The Longshot Podcast early on and now she subscribes to more comedians than I do. We went to Power Violence and a number of shows at The Improv. Pete Holmes, Todd Glass, Ron Lynch, Eddie Pepitone, Maron, Sebastian, Ian Edwards, and Tig- we love Tig. She pushed me to go on the road. She encouraged me to stop using the train and take her car instead. She makes this all possible. It's unbelievable. She even made cookies when I produced my own show.

I'd done a couple of shows at The Lexington with Tony Bartolone where I did some character stuff. I played a wrestler, a heckler that takes on Mr. Goodnight and a squarish Steve Allen type talk show host. Anyway, the owner liked me enough and said if I ever wanted to use the space, hit him up.

Tony was nice enough to help me too, he ran sound for me. Uggh, I didn't even give him a fucking spot and he ran sound for me- that's how great a guy he is and how SELFISH I can be.

 I think the best thing in comedy after doing standup is booking your own show. Reaching for the stars, pulling in friends, what a great position to be in! Compiling a fantasy list of mostly male comics and shooting them a message on Facebook.

So if you're a new comic wondering, how the hell do I get booked on a show?

Well, a moron like me could accidentally see you at an open mic and then end up liking you! And I'm the guy who did a shitty set before you, remember? You never know who could be running shows.

Most people got back to me pretty quick. Comedians love a full calendar. 

I adored The Walsh Brothers. So original and twisted. They blew my mind at TigerLily and I finally met the guys through a mutual friend.

Brian Scolaro was someone I had talked to outside of The Comedy Store. He's one of the first comics to give me any kind of advice,

"Don't move To Long Beach."

I was a fanboy of Dean Delray. I heard Matty Goldberg on Danny Lobell's podcast and dug his book about his friendship with Angelo Bowers. Ron Babcock was one of the friendly guys on the scene, loved his standup. I'd worked on a webseries with Paul Danke. Just met a lot of the other comics at open mics. I worked with Jeanne Whitney at Arclight Hollywood and we started standup around the same time. I watched Timika Hall do her first set at Echoes Under Sunset and she was great! Ester Steinberg cracked me up at The Palace and then I wanted to book her after I saw this sketch. She just happened to be hanging out with Neel Nanda when I was booking him, so I got both of them right then and there.

Robert Vertrees was brand new like me, but I just dug his story.

I knew I'd never have to worry about Ken Garr.

Just read his awesome blog entry "One Year Later and Why I Should Quit"

I should've taken note and made my blog shorter! That dude is a complete professional and will never hesitate to give you his tour dates at the MGM in Las Vegas.

Jak Knight was edgy and exciting. Jon Durnell was the best thing about a bringer show I did at the Formosa. I didn't even know Lisa Landry, but Brian asked if she could be on. Same thing with Kevin James Moore, a buddy of Matty's.

  Maagic Collins is one of the kindest souls I've ever met. I love his standup. He would show up to my afternoon Tribal mic on Saturdays. Very supportive guy.

I think I saw Rick Wood at Power Violence and he just blew me away.

Anyway, you get the fucking point, this was just an excuse to drop everyone's links. Jesus Christ.

One time I made the amateur mistake of messaging too many people at once and then having to tell one comic I'd put them on the next show. I got a lot of grief for that and I was pulling my hair out. I was getting a guilt trip from the disappointed comic and now I didn't want to book him at all. It was totally my fault, but I was just getting through the learning curve. Book carefully, and wait for your damn responses.

Another recurring thing that kept coming up is a comic wanting to bring a friend for a guest spot. It's a good rule of thumb to keep a spot open for a possible drop-in. Or just book less comics Marty. Aren't you glad you paid $200 for this helpful comedy workshop tip?

I was also planning on doing all these wacky sketches and transitions that had nothing to do with the stand-up comedy. I wanted to make it an event. I asked Chris Walsh if we could have an extended dialogue where the Walsh Brothers get in an argument with me and then pretend to shoot me from the audience...so now I'm suddenly on the level of The Walsh Brothers! Proposing bits. Chris was really nice about it and declined in the best way possible. He made me realize that I should only work on the hosting- not all this extra dressing. I'd be stressed out enough. Plus, The Walsh Brothers have their own thing going on and it's hilarious.

Claire helped me with some basic PR stuff; shooting out emails to various websites with LA calendars of events. Lot of people check online for free entertainment. I hit up LA Weekly early enough to get this delightful blip:

Did I pay anyone? I paid Dean Delray. I paid Brian Scolaro. It seems a little unfair now, I had The Walsh Brothers, Ron Babcock, Paul Danke, and Matty Goldberg, who all have a shitload of experience.

I got this dumb idea that I should write thank you notes to everyone else. Looking back, I gave comedians false hope of money in those envelopes, only to find a badly scrawled "thank you" with some shitty stick figure doodles. At least there were cookies at the gig.

Brian mentioned the 50 bucks onstage and I was really embarrassed. It exposed the inner-workings of my inexperience and that I was holding out on everyone else. I think I would do it differently now, but it was a free show.

Tony watched me have a mini-meltdown. I was stressing out because there was a band that was booked on a show immediately after and it was clear that I was going to run over their time. I thought if I gave up my own set and kept bringing the next comic up, we'd finish on time without cutting anyone's sets down.

Tony explained to me that I shouldn't of worried about that, that it was worse to bring the comics up cold. It's better to keep the audience warmed up, but I was hopping back on stage saying,

"Give it up for Ron Babcock, and now let's keep it moving- Matty Goldberg!"

I didn't get it. I thought running over my time would fuck things up and I'd never get to do a show again. I shouldn't of booked so many comics anyway- Paul Danke was going on dead last, and he'd been waiting around so long, I felt horrible. I should buy his album.

So don't sacrifice your time for the sake of the next show- be a good host, Wurst.

But that first show had a great turnout, especially for The Lexington. The comics were kind of impressed. That extra leg work paid off.

I remember I wanted to bring Dean Delray up to a Led Zeppelin song and I kept bothering Tony about it when the order changed. Then when the music came up, Dean was clearly stoked and that little moment meant a lot to me.

On his way out he yelled,

"Congratulations on your 1st year of stand up!"

Speaking of which, I asked Melina Paez if I could be in her "DropTheSoapTV" series, where comics do stand-up in her shower. It was a fun way to cap off my first year.

Okay, that was rather manic. Just a couple steps away from Denis Leary- uggh. Anyway, I STOPPED doing that. Here's a message to myself as I time-travel back to the shower,

Horrible jokes, asshole! Your taint is hilarious by the way.

I just want to thank the people that encouraged me or gave me useful information when I started bumbling my way through open mics that first year (July 2013-2014)

Brett Gilbert, Ric Rosario, Matty Goldberg, Tony Bartolone, Jason Van Glass, Ron Babcock, Dean Delray, Chris Walsh, Matt Walsh, Danny Lobell, Mollie Gross, Melina Paez, Brian Scolaro, Jamie Flam, Jeremiah Watkins, Mike Celestino, Justin Alexio, Neel Nanda, Mikey de Lara, Paul Danke, Ari Mannis, Lydia Robinson, Ryan Doolittle, Maagic Collins, Don Barris, Elissa Rosenthal, Rob Antus, K-von, Jarrett and Emily Galante, Christiane Georgi, Hiro Matsunaga, Greg James, Carly Craig, Matthew Hilton, Sally Mullins, Matt Sauter, Matt Gamarra, Donald McKinney, Ryan Kain, Jeremy Fultz, Del Weston, Derick Armijo, Alisha Morine, Nicole Malina, Devon Schwartz, Andy Salamone, Barbara Gray, Sean Conroy, Myles Weber, Ricky Winston, Frankie Ma, Rishi Arya, Brandon Birckz, Sean K., Mike Menendez, Jamar Neighbors, Mr. Goodnight, Erica Rhodes, Matt Champagne, David Gerhardt, The Martin Duprass, John Silver, Ryan Pfeiffer, Kevin Anderson, Whitney Melton, Kym Kral, Jared Levin, Kenneth Lion, Alex Croll, Adam Carr, Trevor James, Deon Williams, Amber Brashear, Pat Regan, Brad Silnutzer, Rob Weissman, Marty, Graham Curan, Eddie Pepitone, Quincy Johnson, Blythe Metz, Willie Dynamite, Freddy Morales, Marcela Perdomo, Nick Kaufman, Atelston Fitgerald Holder The 1st, Bruce Boiman, Tom Allen, Melissa Villasenor, Maria Bamford, Todd Glass, Lou Perez, Allison Anders, Jeremy Bassett, Tony Alfieri, Laura Niles, Tamoy Sherman, Chaliss Robinson, Eddie Whitehead Jr, Brent Weinbach, Jill Maragos, Jodi Miller, Luz Pazos, Brianna Murphy, Sasha Kapustina, Alain Villenueve, Brad James, Lauren Kiang, Yoav, Ken Garr, David Gregorian, Jordan Leer, Stefano Della Pietra, Down Under Comedy Club, Mike Garrison, Brad and Sara Harris, Thomas Hussey, Harold, Chino, Tiffany Gomes, Simon Gibson, Joe Wagner, Scott Luhrs, Jay Weingarten, Joe Kardon, Pedro Salinas, Willie Dynamite, Robert Vertrees, Amber Kenny, Karah Britton, Alison Tafel, David Hill, Andy Kosec, Micah Lile, Chris Putro, Kris Rubio, Jade Thom, Brodie Reed, Ryan Talmo, Kevin Lee, Kellie Ann, Jeanne Whitney, Jake Kroeger, Nikki Riordan, Tim Mars, Christian Chavez, Jake Adams, Louise Hung, Michael Donato, my Geffen peeps, all my Arclight friends, Stella friends, childhood friends and family that came out to support.

Or if you're just generally nice to me thanks. You gave me the strength to go out and bomb one more time.

Shout out to Mike Celestino's great documentary "That's Not Funny".

and finally To Claire:

For every time I called you up to moan out my discontent, only to be dissuaded from my stubborn misery because of your constant light, love, and gentle reasoning.

For those open mics you'll never be able to unsee.

I love you more than open mic comedians love pussy jokes.

And as you know, that's a hell of a lot.