Old Time Bar Ick
I went to this open mic/competition thing tonight at the old time bar. Someone has to go on last, but it always sucks when it has to be you. It was me. Going on last doesn’t equal headlining. Not only that, but the sound system sucked balls. Maybe that’s what was wrong with it: someone’s testicles got stuck in the amp. No wonder it couldn’t amplify the high frequencies. Gotta cut the balls off. I saw a wifi router on the ceiling, but no one who worked there knew the password. I should have just reset that shit.
I didn’t have my camera so I should have just left anyway, since it broke my streak of taping every set. It didn’t matter though. I got two jokes in and these heckler cunts started in telling me they were telling my jokes to each other. I asked them why and they wouldn’t say, so I kept on them for the rest of the time to tell me why. I told them I was a healer. This bitch was like, “you’re not funny.” No shit, I’m a healer not a comedian. That’s what they needed more. I’m whatever the crowd needs me to be. A heckler is like a wart on a crowd. You can’t tell your jokes because this wart keeps distracting you. You have to heal the wart.
This place sucked in a lot of ways. The sound system didn’t work, they didn’t know their own wi-fi password, the bathroom was out of paper towels, they made me go last, I didn’t win the competition, and I didn’t think it would be so long since it was shorter than shit last time I was there. So I hadn’t eaten yet and I had to wait around to go on last, so I got white people problems hungry. Oh yeah and then I missed out on the Pine Cove competition and On the Y karaoke.
On the plus side, I got a connection for a guest set next week, and I got to try drinking orange juice from concentrate mixed with horseradish.