July 31, 2013 Open Mic, Foxworthy Starbuck's and Tortuga Lounge, San Jose

Foxworthy Starbuck's and Tortuga Lounge at the Super 8 Motel, San Jose

Tried some new stuff tonight. I'm pleased with my writing, but I need work on my performance, but I'm going to stick with it for a few months and see if I can draw out a superior performance out of the same or slightly improved version of what I have.

At the Starbuck's, Sylvia, Joseph and Brooklyn were very supportive and Sylvia found my new material to be fox worthy. The Tortuga Lounge crowd was restless. I was on late and I read from the script, because I wanted to see if it was working. The crowd wasn't extremely responsive during my set, but I got some positive comments afterwards. Goes to show that people are listening even if you don't get that impression from the stage.

One of the guys, Dan, was amazed at how organized my material was. Most of these guys work from crib notes on paper pads or iPhones.

I've posted the text below.

Like my air guitar? ...I got it for $99.... and that just covered the first session with my psychiatrist.... Next week, we’re moving to the hard drugs....

Now, you might be asking yourself, just how crazy do you have to be to get prescription hard drugs? ...Looking around the room, seems like many of you are well on your way there... But, it isn’t easy out there, getting along, getting ahead. 

Here I am a white guy trying to fit into San Jose society and you’d think that’d be easy but it isn’t. See this scar here? Got that from wearing the wrong hair net to the gang meeting.

You’ve seen these guys cruising the shopping malls wearing hair nets, right? Am I right?

So, when I first got here, I was pretty lonely. I called my mother and she said, “you know you had such a nice gang of friends here in Canada, why don’t you see if you can find a new gang of friends in San Jose.”

So, I joined up with a new gang of friends. The Cucarachas. I said, “cucarachas? are you a musical group like the Beatles?” For that remark, I got this scar right here.

They said, “no hombre, the beetles, the escarabajos, are over en el norte, we’re en el centro. You’re not Escarabajo, are ya, Blanco?”

“No, no, no, no Escarabajo, Cucaracha. Si.”

“Blanco,” that’s what they call me, Blanco, like I’m their pet dog. Well, a few months ago, I was late for the gang meeting and, once again, I grabbed the wrong hair net out of the dryer before heading out.

“Blanco, how many times we gotta tell ya, Not the Carl’s Junior hair net, we wear the Weinerschnitzle hair net hombre! Now man up, this is gonna hurt!”

What? Isn’t this the gang symbol for Weinerschnitzle? What am I signing here? Some guy in the back is looking at me like he’s gonna get whacked.

It’s OK, I’m white, no one takes me seriously that way. And, yeah I know, like who launders their hair nets. But, what can I say? I’m a white guy from Canada.

You know I am pretty white. It’s like God pulled me out of the great cosmic toaster a minute before the timer bell went off.

“OK, man, that’s it. You’re done.”

“Dear Lord, I’m barely singed, couldn’t I stay a little while longer?”

“Hey sorry, man, but it’s late Saturday night and I’ve got stuff to do tomorrow.

“Well couldn’t I have a few more seconds of growth radiation on my pickle down here? If I’m going to be circumcized, at least give me a kosher dil, right now I’m looking at a baby gherkin.”

“No, sorry no, you gotta go now. You’ll be fine. People will know when you’re glad to see them. Now where did I put my hymn book?”

Yes, I imagine that God keeps a hymn book. Are you surprised? I’m not saying He doesn’t know His hymns. I’m just saying I imagine that He likes having His hymn book handy with Him on Sundays. I imagine that His hymns give Him comfort.

I have no idea what I’m talking about, I just like the sound of that last sentence, ... his hymns give Him comfort.

I also imagine God listening with great pleasure and interest every Sunday when people sing their hymns in church. I also imagine looking at Pope Francis’s travel photos on the Vatican’s new social media site, Faith book. Had you heard about that one?

Last, I was at the Poor House Bistro. Cajun style menu. Blackened seafood and chicken, right? ...That’s what I said to my wife when I burn the pork chops, “they’re not burnt, I blackened them Cajun style.”

Blackening... sounds like what happened to my buddy’s high school when they started bussing black kids there back in the day. ...Yes, their high school blackened up quite a bit once that started. ...Put it this way,

Overnight, they went from being a pretty new school TO being Old School

Overnight they went FROM Wonder Bread to Stevie Wonder

Overnight,they went from reading Longfellow to seeing foot longs.

And I’m not talking about foot long hot dogs for lunch here either. I’m talking about that bulge in guys’ shorts that’s always there whether they’re happy to see you or not! Know what I mean here?

And we had this math teacher back then, Harold Katz. Everyone called him Harry Pussy behind his back. Everyone except my idiot friend, Ralph Bouquet.

Now’s there’s someone who’s well disposed to make fun of someone else’s name, Ralph Bouquet. Anyway, one class, Ralph calls out, “Hey Pussy, show us your straight edge.”

Now, I’ve got the teachers in the audience saying to themselves, “ooh, math porn, bring it on, ooooh, bring it on.”

Ralph spent a long time in detention for that one. Became expert in fractions. Now he’s a tax accountant. Funny how life works out.

And you know, the language down here has taken some getting used to. Before I moved here from Canada, I thought that weeding was something you did in the back yard with a garden trowel.

Here, weeding is done with a bowl in the parking lot.

“Well, yeah man, we take a little weed, put in a bowl and burn it.”

“You set fire to your weeds.”

“Yeah man, it’s cool”

“And nobody complains about the smoke?”

“Man, it’s cool”

“By this time the THC has kicked in and my buddy’s answer to everything is “Man, it’s cool.”

So, then I say to him, “if I pissed into a shopping bag and then poured it on your head, would that be cool?”

“Man, it’s cool. I’ve got the munchies, let’s go to Weinerschnitzle and scarf down some dogs.”

Another term that got me was Def Jam.

What’s that, rap music done in sign language?

You already got the signing going when you rap. You know, like, I’ve got the munchies, goin’ a the Weinershnitzle, scarf some dogs, dawg... Oh man, who’s getting whacked now. I gotta be careful signing that stuff.

So, if you’re rapping in sign language, I see how you would sign smoking weed.

But, how do you sign, weird sex? Anyone? I’m guessing you just do the facial expression of the one on the bottom. Something like this.

See, nobody tells me anything, I gotta figure out everything for myself. It’s the curse of coming out of the cosmic toaster too soon.

And there are so many different cultures here and I’ve figured out a lot of useful stuff.

For example, I like my spicy meals with a Mango Lassie. That’s an Indian drink, and they’re good, aren’t they?

It also sounds like that famous dog’s name, as in “Mango Lassie come home.”

Come to think of it, Mango Lassie sounds like what people from India would call a remake of the Disney classic, Old Yeller.