This weekend, I carried around a digital voice recorder for my stand-up class. I never knew I said such dumb stuff. I sound like I have a cold. I say, “Um” a lot. Sometimes it’s, Uuuummmm. I tried to stop and ended up saying, “And” a lot. Aaaannnnnd.

I need to work on my delivery. I sound like I’m high on the drugs. It worked great for Mitch Hedberg, for a little while, but I don’t think it fits me. If I try too hard, I end up pushing a radio voice. That’s going to get me beat up. I want to beat me up when I hear that voice.

I still haven’t written my one joke for class.

Last night I had my first class at Dad’s Garage. I’m taking Level 1 Improv. I think it’s going to be a great class. I really like the teacher. My classmates are from various backgrounds and really seem to be motivated. Everyone wants to have fun. Except the Clown that brought a machete to class. I think he wants to kill me. He said something like, “I’m gonna kill you.” Then he made a slashing gesture across his throat. It was freaky.

I almost didn’t go to class. I got scared. Not because of the Clown. He follows me everywhere. I was scared of the unknown. I was procrastinating again. I think I even missed a turn on purpose. I can’t say for sure, but I do know I’ve been very adept at sabotaging myself in the past. I’ve learned a little trick about my fear. I don’t fight through it anymore, I don’t think about it and I forget it. It got me to class on time.

Getting home was a horse of another mother. Atlanta streets are one big gigantic mess. There isn’t a square block outside of the downtown area. Making four right turns will not get you back to the same spot. Do that in Buckhead and you end up in Macon. When the blocks do even out to a nice grid pattern, all the streets switch to one way. And turning lanes… is it too much to ask for a sign by the light? Maybe a painted arrow on the street? It’s no wonder Atlanta traffic sucks so bad. The city just lets us do our own thing. Here’s a crap load of roads, but we ran out of paint. Have fun. See you at elections.

I’m sure there is a joke in there somewhere, I just can’t find it. Writing one joke is hard. I need to forget about that and just do it.


4 responses to “Funnyless

  1. amber’s your teacher, right?
    had drinks with her last night, after the class. she said it looked like it was gonna be a good class. big, but good. she had a lot of fun. and she’s a jaded ole asshole!

  2. Small Wyrld!

    Yup, Amber is the teacher. I’m glad to know she’s okay with us. She has a glint in her eye that says, don’t screw with me, I’ll gut you and use your liver as a beret. I’m doing whatever she says.

  3. Opening yourself up for criticism is so freaky. I dread the role playing exercises we have to do for the counselling training I’m doing. I always think I’ll just embarrass everyonem including of course myself.

  4. The Improv class is great because everyone is acting like a maniac. The Stand-up class is tough. There is a lot of criticism there. Constructive, but sometimes hard to hear. It’s all about polishing the act. If you are rough like me, it can be exhaustive.

    Good luck on the role-playing exercises. Break a leg. Ideally, someone else’s.

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