RobMaher.com

I Want To Be The Fat Olsen Twin

2007-11-02T08:09:00.000-07:00

I have made it to the finals of the Funniest Person in Baltimore Contest. Yeah for me. The finals take place Wednesday, November 7th at 8pm at the Baltimore Comedy Factory. Before I beg and plead for you to come and vote for me let me first give you a little insight as to what this contest is all about and what it can mean / do for the winner.

The Funniest Person in Baltimore contest is to comedians what the Academy Awards are to actors, what a Grammy means to a musician or what winning best group anal scene is to a porn star. It's that fucking big. This contest has launched the careers of countless comedians, entertainers and great Americans.

The contest began in 1840. Abraham Lincoln was the inaugural winner. He went on to become President and abolish slavery. In 1900, Orville Wright won the contest. Three years later he became the first man to ever take flight in an airplane.

1934 was a groundbreaking year for the FPIB contest. For the first time ever a black comedian won. He closed his set with an amazing impression of Hitler getting fucked in the ass, "D'Ass is good!" Two years later he won a record four Gold Medals in the 1936 Summer Olympic Games in Berlin, Germany in front of, yeah...you guessed it....Adolph Hitler himself. That young comics name was Jesse Owens.

1975 turned out to be the most controversial finals in the FPIB's history. As the judges tallied the votes there was speculation that not all the votes were being counted correctly and some weren't even being counted at all. Some even claimed that black voters were being turned away and not allowed to vote at all. The vote was the closest the contest had ever seen. As the winner was announced many booed and the runner up, an upstart comic named Tom Myers, was seen pointing at the winner and screaming, "Karma's a bitch Al Gore!" The rest is history.

My favorite year has to be 1986. No comic ever crushed harder at the Baltimore Comedy Factory than the winner did that night. His set was full of energy, vigor and groundbreaking racial satire. That night Michael Richards was the funniest person in Baltimore. Four years later he was Kramer. Last November marked the 20th year anniversary of Michael's superb victory. To honor that night and that victory, Michael performed at the Laugh Factory in LA doing the exact same set he had done 20 years earlier on that glorious night in Baltimore. Unfortunately, in one of life's cruel twists, things didn't go quite as well. I guess the Laugh Factory is no Comedy Factory.

Many others have won this prestigious award including George Carlin, Dave Attell, To Catch a Predator's Chris Hanson, the drummer from Hanson, TV's Benson, the fat Olsen twin, Bell, Biv and Devoe, and the guy who wrote the Greatest American Hero theme song. The list goes on and on.

Unfortunately, for every winner there are countless losers. And as uplifting the stories have been for the winners, they can be just as tragic for the losers. Take Joe Robinson for example. Joe was a great comic and an even better person. A better friend a new comic couldn't find. Joe was always there for the newbies. Always encouraging, nurturing and pleading with you to never give up on your dream no matter how shitty your act was. No matter if you work nights at 7-11 and bomb at every show. He was an inspiration to all of us. But everything changed the night of the 2005 FPIB Finals. Joe came in an oh so close second place. There's no shame in that but Joe didn't see it that way. The warm and caring Joe Robinson that we all loved and admired was no more. The Joe that would once put his arm around a fellow comedian and tell him it'll be better next time turned into a Joe that would go out of his way to shit on a comics dream. His advice went from positive to angry and unsolicited. He would often pick fights with comics and belittle them just to make himself feel good. Two years ago Joe Robinson was on his way. So where is Joe Robinson now you ask? Try, completely out of comedy! Good riddance I say. I hear he's doing midnights at some crappy radio station playing shitty Nickelback records with some co-host he'd never met before. A crueler fate I cannot imagine.

So that brings us to Wednesday, November 7th. I need your support people. The audience plays a part in the voting making it crucial to bring people. So I am begging, pleading for you to come out. Bring your friends. Have them bring their friends. I need an army of Rob Maher fans. I need to win this contest. I need the 2,000 bucks you get for winning. I need the fame and notoriety that this contest has proven time and time to give. I need the launch and boost this will inevitably give to my career and my otherwise miserable life. I ask you to please help me win. I want to be the funniest person in Baltimore. I want that list of winners to read, Lincoln, Wright, Owens, Richards, Hanson, other Hanson, Carlin, Devoe,……MAHER. I want this bad. But even more than that, I don't want to be, can't fathom being, can't stomach the thought of turning into Joe Robinson. I don't want to be Joe Robinson. I want to be the fat Olsen twin. Please, make my dream come true and my worst nightmare not. Thank you all.

....I Think I Am In Love

2007-06-21T11:53:00.001-07:00

It was another eventful Saturday for me this past week. My day went from 8am to 6am but it was well worth the lack of sleep. The day started with me having to teach my driver improvement class. It was a packed class, which means more money for me and more chances to sexually harass a student. I eat lunch at this excellent Mediterranean place right next door. I sit at the bar and no I didn’t have a drink. This girl from my class walks in. We make eye contact and then she comes and sits next to me. We make small talk until the bartender comes by. She orders a rum and coke. She orders alcohol right in front of me! And a double at that. I guess that just shows how little respect I garner if one my students is going to drink right in front me when there’s still four more hours of class to go. She told me she needed a drink to get through my boring class. She makes an excellent point, it’s an incredibly boring class and I add nothing to it. We get to talking some more and yadda, yadda, yadda I will be visiting her soon at the restaurant she works at. I bought her the rum and coke with strict instruction that she returns the favor when I come visit her. I wonder if it’s against some sort of rule for the instructor to buy the student alcohol mid way through the class? Oh well. An alcoholic who’s easy on the eyes, I think I am in love Kristin. I see sex in our future.

After class, I head over to Ned Devines to get the show started there. In classic Ned Devines fashion the crowd is sparse. Sparse is a nice way of saying shitty. To be fair, the people that were there were into it and fun. There were two girls sitting right up front. I tell them I need them to laugh and I promise I won’t pick on them. I sense a lot of skepticism from one the girls, Sylvia. She was a feisty one and I like that. I take the stage and wish happy birthday to one of the guys in the crowd. I then point to Sylvia and her friend and tell the birthday boy the strippers are here. I went up there with every intention of honoring my no pick on promise to the girls yet, literally 10 seconds in and I am calling them strippers. Classic me. Sylvia, of course, immediately calls me out. I attempted to explain that being called a stripper is a compliment because you have to be really hot to be a stripper, so… you’re welcome. Amazingly, that nugget of genius logic didn’t resonate with Sylvia. I spent my entire set hitting on/debating/arguing with her only to have her continuously reject/poke holes in/one up me. What a turn on. A feisty bitch that fight’s back and wins, I think I am in love Sylvia. I see sex in our future, just not with each other.

Moving on to the real strippers. I have to leave Ned Devines mid show in order to make it up to Baltimore where I will be emceeing an event at the strip club, Night Shift. It was the clubs 16th anniversary and the owner Tony wanted to do something a little extra. I wasn’t exactly sure what was expected of me and I didn’t really care for I was being paid and paid well to hang out with strippers and drink for free. Turns out I was supposed to hang out in the DJ booth all night and attempt to be humorous in between each girl’s dances. I knew attempting to do material would be a waste of time so I decided to interview each girl before they hit the stage and try to get some sexy, raunchy stuff out of them. Take my Q&A with Lexy for example.

Q: What’s your favorite thing to do in bed?
A: Have sex.

Q: What’s your favorite thing to do in a car?
A: Fuck.

Q: What’s your favorite thing to do in a tree house?
A: Eat pussy.

You can’t make up better answers than that people. The crowd however, couldn’t care any less about my little interviews. They just wanted nudity. I asked one girl what’s her ultimate sexual fantasy? She says she want to have sex with two guys and two girls in a giant tub of jello. No reaction from the crowd. I ask if she’s ever gotten close to that happening. She says no. I say, “What, you couldn’t find that much jello?” Now that’s fucking hilarious! No reaction from crowd. Oh well. The patrons didn’t seem to like me much but all the dancers, bartenders, bouncers and the DJ seemed to like me a lot. I felt like Tim Robbins in Shawshank. I came into this dreary place full of faded dreams and empty hearts and showed them a little life, a little spark. I imagine they are all missing me today but some birds aren’t meant to be caged. If you ever make it out Lexy, I could use a girl who can eat pussy in a tree house. Get busy stripping or get busy dying. Remember, sexy girls from Night Shift. Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies. I will be hoping that this blog finds you, and finds you well. Your friend, Rob.

OK, the Shawshank thing was a bit of a stretch. Cut me some slack. I had a great time Night Shift and can’t wait to do it all over again. Free drinks, lesbian tree house action and jello orgies, I think I am love Night Shift. I see me paying for sex in our future.

I leave the club at 12:30 AM. The night is young. I head over to my buddy Steve’s 30th birthday party which is only twenty minutes away. Steve works at 98 Rock and is one of the new friends I made while in Cancun. I was really looking forward to this party for I always love partying with the 98 Rock crew plus I was going to get hang with a lot of my new Cancun friends, like Steve’s wife Stacey, Pam, Lisa, Buzz, JT, Angela and Scott and Shannon. I hadn’t seen these people since Cancun and they are way to cool to not hang out with more often. I had heard that the Huber’s, Steve and Stacey, had an awesome party house and I was not let down. Fucking amazing! It’s more like a compound. There’s tons of yard, a basketball court, pool, beach volleyball, awesome patio area and bar, an ice luge, a petting zoo and a dolphin tank. Those last two were lies. Even though I was getting to the party at one AM I wasn’t concerned with getting there too late. I show up and sure enough the party is going way strong. The whole crew was there. It was an awesome party. I drank, played basketball poorly, drank some more, made prank phone calls, left four messages on Pam’s phone while she was standing right across from me, drank some more, talked to anyone and everyone, insulted a few people, fellated the ice luge a lot, sang Christmas carols, did three sudoku puzzles and took a class on horse whispering. It was quite the night, quite the day. At 6 AM I laid down on the couch and went to sleep the minute my head hit the pillow. I may have been extremely drunk and extremely tired but my dream was clear and focused and sober and full of energy. A girl so amazing that in a day full of interesting women and strippers, a day full of stories and memories, in a day in which I could dream about so many things yet all I dream about is you. I think I am in love Pam. I see happiness in our future.

That was my Saturday. The End.

Me, Strippers and Big Balls

2007-06-15T10:34:00.000-07:00

It is good to me sometimes. This Saturday night I am getting paid to emcee an event at a strip club, Night Shift in Baltimore to be exact. Night Shift is an excellent strip club. The girls get totally nude. I am fan of that. And if reading up on the girl’s bios on the clubs website is any indication, they are all a bunch of freaks. There were many wonderful one’s to choose from but I decided to share the lovely Nikki’s with you. Nikki is a 5’4 100 lb brown eyed brunette. I have copy and pasted her turn ons. This is exactly what she has listed on the site.

Turn Ons: Big Balls, Oral Sex, multiple cocks, anal sex, getting fucked up, having my way camping, bathing in a lake and having my bass guitar rammed up my pussy

Let’s discuss. Disgusting! Who bathes in a lake? Do you think she means big testicles or big balls like beach balls? Cus I’ve never heard of a girl who has a ball, meaning testicle, size preference. I have no concept of ball sizes. I have no clue where my balls would land in a ball size chart? If one of the three women I have ever had sex with are reading this can you please message me and give me some ball feedback? What’s average? What’s big? What’s small? Does penis size and ball size correlate? Could a guy be packing 9 inches yet have marbles hanging down there. What if a guy has one giant ball and one tiny ball? Would Nikki insist on only giving him one orgasm? Or maybe she like’s big balls metaphorically. Like if I were to come up to her Saturday night and ask her about her love of balls she would respond, “Wow, it takes some big ass balls to ask me that question. I think I will fuck you and then bathe in a lake.”

Let’s move on. Oral sex is a fairly pedestrian turn on so let’s tackle multiple cocks. That was a fun sentence. I would assume she means multiple cocks at the same time. What’s not to love about that? She lists anal sex after multiple cocks but I think it should be the other way around. If you like multiple cocks it’s a given you like anal. It’s a basic crowd control issue. She also loves getting fucked up. Well, I should hope so. You’d have to be some kind of whore to be sober and want several cocks inside you at the same time.

This next one baffles me. Having my way camping? I am not even sure what that means. I guess she is real particular about camping. Sounds like a real bitch to go camping with. “I wanted at least a three person tent asshole. Haven’t you read my turn ons? Now tell me a fucking ghost story. It better be fucking scary. You call that fire? Where are the smores at?”

All right, now for the finale. Having my bass guitar rammed up my pussy. Wow. I’ve heard of needing more cowbell but this takes the cake. This girl must really love music. A drum stick I could see. A guitar pick’s a no brainer but a bass guitar? I can’t follow a bass guitar in the bedroom. I’m not packing that much down there. If we were in a band I’d be playing the triangle.

Last Saturday night I survived a demolition derby. This Saturday night I will try to survive Nikki. I am scared to death. Hope to be back here on Monday. Big Balls Rule!

Post Demolition Derby Poker Game

2007-06-15T08:43:00.000-07:00

After my amazing victory in the Demolition Derby I went and played poker with Joe Robinson and his buddies. Joe is an excellent poker player but he has one giant tell. Whenever he’s bluffing he puts in his mouthpiece. Other than that he’s impossible to read. I figured I was running lucky that day so my chances were good. Wrong answer. All my luck was used up in the Derby. I got roughed up pretty good. Joe was kind enough to show me a little mercy so I was able to salvage the night a little and only ended up losing 110 bucks. I got unlucky several times but I also didn’t play well at all. I think my problem was that I wasn’t drinking or eating junk food. I have been trying to lose weight doing the low carb thing here recently and if ever there was a night to cheat this was it. There was free pizza available, free beer, free pretzels, free chips, free cookies, free candy and I said no to all of it. What did I splurge on? The free squares of cheese! Part of me say’s that’s responsible of you Rob but a larger part of me says that’s pretty fucking lame of you. Cheese when you could have had pizza and chocolate chip cookies? Diet Coke when you could have had Heineken? It’s real hard to be intimidating at the poker table while sucking down diet cokes and niblets of cheese. My table image was that of a nine year old boy with Diabetes. Not quite KGB from Rounders. I deserved to get my ass handed to me that night. I won’t make that mistake next time I play poker with those guys. I’m drinking Jim Beam straight out of the bottle with a beef jerky chaser. We’ll see if they outflop my pocket kings then.

I Was in 50 Car Accidents Saturday

2007-06-14T09:38:00.000-07:00

I was in 50 car accidents Sat afternoon. Actually, that’s incorrect. None of them were accidents. I participated in a Demolition Derby in Arcadia, MD with my good friends from 98 Rock. Yes, a real Demolition Derby with real cars and real lack of safety precautions. The event was made up of two teams of four, so eight cars total. Each car had all the windows removed except for the windshield. We were each given helmets. The rules were simple. The last car running is the winner. They advised us not to hit anyone on the driver’s side door in order to avoid hurting each other. That was the extent of the safety measures. My team was made up of myself, Mickey Cucchellia, Joe Robinson and some guy we just met named Don. Scott Donahue was supposed to be our fourth member but he bailed on us yet he was still at the event watching which means he had no reason to bail which leaves me no other option to forever deem him a total pussy. The other team was composed of Scott the Producer, Chris the other Producer, Kerry, who won this event last year, and Steve, another guy I just met. Our team had to be considered the heavy underdogs because we were the only team with a member wearing a mouthpiece. Yes, Joe Robinson wore a mouthpiece. And kneepads for that matter. That’s very Scott Donahue of you Joe. Joe also googled Demolition Derby Strategies the night before. How lame is that? If you google “how to be fag” a picture of Joe comes up reading up on demolition derby strategies while wearing a mouthpiece and kneepads.

We get in our cars and start to drive down to the pit. I am driving a Chevy Corsica, the Joe Robinson of vehicles. Just driving down into the pit was exhilarating. Hundreds of people were cheering, giving us high fives as we drove by. It really did feel like we we’re going into some sort of battle. There’s something about putting that helmet and goggles on that turns everything up a notch. I’m not just some idiot driving an old, beat up Corsica, I am now a racecar driver.

The event starts with us lined up on opposite sides in two rows of four. Everyone starts with the front of your car up against the wall. They want everyone going in reverse at the start so not to get up too much speed for the initial collision. The guy next to you and the guy directly behind you are on the opposite team. I am at the far end with Chris to my right. I decide that I am going to try to hold back for a second and then reverse as fast as I can and try to pummel the front of Chris’s car. That was the extent of my strategy. The crowd counts down, 3, 2, 1…. And it’s on! I hold back a second like I planned and then reverse it right into Chris’s front end. It wasn’t a huge shot by any means but it got my adrenaline going big time. The hardest part was not hitting your own teammates. There were orange numbers on our passenger side and yellow on there’s but unless you see the passenger side it got confusing as to who was who. It seemed like forever before anyone was out. I thought it would only last like five minutes but ten minutes in and almost the cars appeared to still be going strong. I had no frame of reference but I felt like I was doing well. I felt I was giving more shots than I was taking. Don’t get me wrong, I was taking some big shots and was sore the next day to prove it but my car was still handling fairly well. I started to think that I could actually win this thing. A lot of who went out when and who hit who the hardest was a blur but I do remember pummeling Scott repeatedly. He just always seemed to be in my way. At one point he stopped driving his car so I thought he was out. I had a perfect shot lined up but you’re not allowed to hit cars that are out so I pulled up. A few minutes later this bastard is blind siding me. You almost killed me you possum laying motherfucker!

Our team had the first member to go out but after that we dominated. With only four cars left we had three of them, Mickey, Joe and myself. We just started decimating poor Steve. Mickey and Joe actually knocked out there own cars while hammering Steve leaving just the two of us. My car was clearly handling better so I was getting the best of him. I hit him with a huge shot to the passenger side tire. I back up and his car isn’t moving. I look at him and ask if he’s done. He gives me the hand slicing the throat motion telling me his car is done. I look at the judges and they tell me to keep going because his car is still running. I reverse and then accelerate forward right into him again. The judges say keep going. I do this about three more times and finally they waive the checkered flag. I won a motherfucking Demolition Derby! How fucking cool is that? I got on top of my car and waived the checkered flag to the “fans.” I got on the mic and thanked my sponsors. Walking back everyone was high fiving me and my teammates. It was amazingly kick ass cool. Thank you so much to Mickey and everyone at 98 Rock for inviting me to this. I had the time of my life.

Bad Life Decision, Good Radio

2007-05-22T08:08:00.000-07:00

This is a podcast from me on the air in Cancun with 98 Rock. This was the morning we decided I should get drunk on the air. I took my first swig of vodka at 5:15 in the morning and didn't stop until 9am. I was drinking a lovely mix of warm Karat vodka and warm Orange Fanta. Karat vodka is just like Grey Goose only the opposite. In this particular 7 minute clip, I blow into a breathalyzer to check my "progress," I apologize to this girl I had offended the night before and Mickey tells me how awful I look for my age. Enjoy.
http://www.98online.com/podcasting/viewChannel.asp?channel_id=112

My Shriners Show

2007-04-26T12:27:00.000-07:00

I did a gig recently for the Shriners. The Shriners are a group made up of old white guys who also happen to be freemason. I'm not sure exactly what they do other than be old and have secret handshakes. All I knew about the show was to keep it PG. I show up and look into this giant banquet hall full of old guys in suits. I immediately evaluate the situation and determine than I am going to eat a dick. I turn back towards the lobby and see the most wondrous sight ever. I do a double take for I thought I was seeing things at first. There was this old man getting his picture taken with his arm around these two, young, beautiful, TOPLESS women. My act is supposed to be PG but I am seeing titties. Titties aren't PG, some are PG 13 but these were R titties. They had stories to tell. They take several pictures and then several more when I politely ask to see their breasteses again. Then this other old man introduces the two girls by saying these are my girls. I am thinking, holy shit, this is their father? I've got to become a Shriner. I can be old and racist. How hard is that shit? I now reevaluate the situation and conclude that I will be performing in front of dirty old men. I fucking love it! I am going to destroy. Legendary shit.
I finally meet the guy running the show. He is very friendly as he goes over the show run down. It turns out I am following a Shriner who is getting a lap dance from two strippers. Aha, so those girls were strippers and the guy who introduced them as his girls is the owner of a strip club. It's starting to make sense.
The show begins with the lap dance. I am not sure why they were honoring this guy or why he was getting a lap dance, maybe he killed a black person or something, I dont know but I didn't care. It is now time for my set. I am introduced incredibly awkwardly. I am performing in front of a podium. I am following a two girl lap dance. I am staring into a sea of, "who's this fucking kid" faces. I now re-reevalute the situation. Sarcasm can't follow titties. I am going to eat a monster dick. A viagra, tantric sex knowing, stunt cock, porn guy dick. Legendary shit.
Let the cock feast begin. I bomb as expected. Nothing works. Clean jokes, dirty jokes, crowd work, racist book jokes(don't judge me you fucks, it was rough up there), nothing works. I comment that I need a drink. In like 30 seconds I have a shot of whiskey in front of me. Then another and another and another. Fuck! I am now drunk which means I can't leave this awful place.
After my set I go sit in the lobby attempting to sober up. I befriend one of the Shriners who tells me he wants to do comedy. He starts trying out material on me which causes me to need to drink more but I can't drink more because then I have to stay here longer and hear more bad jokes and eat more dick. It's a vicious cycle. The cycle is finally broken up when talks of a poker game start up. I love poker. I can't drive yet. I should play so I invite myself to the game. I am thinking this is my chance to get some revenge.
There's six of us playing. Not including me, the average age is around 80. We are playing dealer calls his own game which basically means we will be playing all bullshit games. We played for close to two hours. I somehow found room in my stomach to eat more dick. It was old ,wrinkled up dick but dick is dick. I only won one hand and that hand I tied with another guy. When I had a flush, someone had a higher flush. When I had a full house, someone had four of a kind. When I had four of a kind, someone had a straight flush. You get the picture. I lost 140 bucks. I made 200 for the show. So essentially, I drove three and half hours round trip to bomb in front of old men and then bomb playing poker with old men for a measly sixty bucks.
I consider myself a good comic and a pretty good poker player. That night I guess I was neither. But there's always another show, another game, another set of breasts to admire, another three and half hour drive to make for virtually nothing, another story to tell. Deal me in.

A Dream I Had

2007-04-26T12:26:00.000-07:00

I wrote a bit in a dream I had the other night. I dreamed I called this girl cute and she got mad that all I referred to her as was cute. Then, in the dream, I wrote a bit about the whole thing. I woke up thinking the bit was hilarious and that I was a genius. The bit went something long the lines of her turning into Joe Peschi from Good Fellas. "What, I'm cute to you, like some little kid, I'm cute like a fucking puppy, etc...." I was patting myself on the back thinking, wow, you wrote a bit in your sleep. You are fucking amazing Rob Maher. As the day went along I slowly began to realize the bit sucked ass and was completely unfunny. I then remembered that I had watched Entourage right before I had gone to bed and the whole "cute conversation" was in that. From genius to hack in 7 hours.

ABC Family?

2006-10-29T23:27:00.000-08:00

Friday night I was flipping through the channels trying to find something to watch when I came upon Misery. Misery is a great movie but what I found odd was that it was playing on ABC Family. That’s right, ABC Family. I guess nothing says family like Kathy Bates, in horrifyingly gruesome fashion, breaking James Cann’s ankles with a sledgehammer. As if that wasn’t enough, every commercial break had promos for another Stephen King movie that was coming on the next day, It. I can just see the family now, “Hey kids gather around the TV. Stephen King’s “It” is coming on. You’re going to love it little Sarah and little Timmy. It’s about a clown that kills children. You won’t sleep well for a month and you’ll never be able to enjoy the carnival again. Hopefully tomorrow night ABC Family will be showing Jodie Foster’s “The Accused” for I know how much Mom and Granny love a good gang rape tale. Thank God for ABC Family.”

I realize that it’s Halloween so horror movies are going to be on a lot but come on! You’re ABC Family. Family is in the name of your channel! Out of curiosity, I went and looked at what was on HBO Family and discovered that HBO actually understands what the word family means. While ABC family was showing a movie about torture and murder, HBO Family was showing Duma, the tale of an orphaned Cheetah who becomes the best friend and pet of a young boy living in South Africa. That’s right, HBO, the network that has brought us such classics as Real Sex 1-47, Taxi Cab Confessions, Pornucopia and Cat House showed on its family channel, a movie about the love beteween a boy and his pet. ABC on the other hand, a network that has brought us Growing Pains, Good Morning America and Extreme Makeover Home Edition showed on its family channel a block of movies about death, torture and the terrorozing of children. I guess if “Duma” ever gets shown on ABC Family, rather than the Cheetah becoming the boy’s best friend and pet, the Cheetah will maul the child and his entire family.

I think that what we’ve all learned here is that ABC stands for Always Be Cilling. Yes, I know Killing is spelled wrong but if you are dumb enough to think a movie about a clown murdering children is family programming then you are dumb enough to spell Killing wrong.

2006-10-26T13:49:00.000-07:00

Last nights show at Gary Clark's South Beach Restaurant, went really well and will now be a weekly room. It's a free show every Wed night at 830. Special thanks to Gary Clark for giving us the venue. It was a real thrill for us to perform for Gary especially for die hard Skins fans like Danny, Adam and myself. Thank you to Erin Jackson, Adam Jacobs, Danny Rouhier, Ryan Conner and Seaton Smith for getting the room off to a great and hilarious start. Thanks go again to Danny for bringing so many people. You rock. Props to Jared Stern, Leo Goodman, Tyler Sonnichsen and Jessica Paquin for coming out and supporting. And I must send some love to my good buddy Steve Gibson for introducing me to Gary in the first place. You are the man Steve Gibson. See you all soon.

The Improv, Kissing Strangers and Battling Magicians

2006-10-23T13:47:00.000-07:00

Comedy is good right now. I have lots of cool and exciting things to report but I can’t squeeze them all into one blog so we shall make this “My week at the DC Improv” blog and save all the other good stuff for later.

This past week I performed at the DC Improv with Pablo Francisco. Pablo has this habit of destroying every show. This week was no different. He was also very complimentary of my act so I have declared him a comic genius. Now, enough about him, let’s talk about how awesome I was. I kicked major ass this past week. The crowds were amazing and were ready at the jump. Every bit worked on every show and my new closer made us all feel closer to God. I will be putting some clips from the week up soon. It is an absolute joy to perform at the DC Improv. I love being on that stage. It fucking rocks! What also rocks is all the amazing people I met over the week and all the new friends I made. Special shout out goes to Anette for I very well may have fallen in love with you. I probably shouldn’t tip my hand but oh well.

Sunday night deserves its own paragraph for it was an interesting night. There was a guy in the front row that had a two second delay thing happening. He would repeat the last punch line of each of my jokes. It was hilarious. If we were a rap group, we’d be Kid and Replay. Then came the after show hanging out in the lobby. This girl walks up to me and tells me how funny I was. I tell her thank you and then ask her if she wants to make out. She says yes. I grab her hand and lead her back behind the bar the whole time waiting for her to say just kidding. I go in slowly still expecting her to back out. Well, she was a champ. No backing off for her. Full makeout session with a stranger ensues. I give her my card and tell her to mypsace me. I get home that night and waiting for me is a myspace message. Turns out she is only 19 years old. I just made out with a teenager, a sober one at that. Sweet!!!!!!! Being a dirty old man is fun. After the making out we rejoined everyone else. Turns out one of her friends is a magician. He starts doing card tricks for everyone. I wanted him to suck ass but he was actually really good. He was taking all the attention away from me and I can’t have that because I have self esteem issues. So now I am dueling with a magician for everyone’s attention. He’s pulling the Jack of Hearts out of girls asses and I’m dropping sarcasm. Sarcasm is getting its ass beat. I just made 250 people laugh and made out with a complete stranger and now I am being outshined by a pimply faced 18 year old wearing an Iron Maiden t-shirt all because he can turn the 2 of Spaids into the Jack of Hearts. Damn him! I should’ve been a magician.

Ned Devines Is Alive And Kicking

2006-10-11T10:56:00.000-07:00

A fantastic first show last night at Ned Devines. We had an excellent crowd. Special thanks to my new myspace Sterling friends Dena and Nina for representing. Thank you to all the comics who kicked ass last night, Herbie Gill, Jimmy Meritt, Danny Rouhier, Jon Mumma, Joe Robinson, Justin Schlegel, Katie Riffey and Andy Kline. And thanks to Ned Devines for being such a cool venue. We've got another great lineup of comics next week. So be here next Tuesday at 9. See you all soon.

If

2006-10-02T22:55:00.000-07:00

If the Redskins win I am happy all week. I watch every post game show, every highlight show, read every article and every message board. I’m on cloud nine.

If I write a new bit that crushes I am giddy like a child on Christmas day. I recite the bit in the shower, in the car, anywhere and everywhere. I feel confident, successful and attractive. I feel alive.

If I discover a new song I love I listen to it over and over again. I sit in front of my computer and play it again and again. Whether the song is new or old, a dance song, sad song, a rock song or an R&B song doesn’t matter. Hearing a great song inspires me. I am ready for the world.

If I meet a girl I like then my mind opens up. I begin to tear down the walls that keep me safe/hold me back. My mind races and I imagine holding her, kissing her, feeling her naked body up against mine. I wonder if she’s the one. I wonder if she’s the real deal and if I’m even ready for the real deal. That thought scares me and makes me nervous and I am not one to get nervous. I have performed literally thousands of times in front of literally hundreds of thousand of people. I have told jokes to crowds of several hundred people and crowds of 6 people. I’ve stood on the ice 40+ times at Washington Capitals games emceeing events and hosting trivia contests in front of 20,000 screaming fans. I’ve done 2 seasons of live TV with just note cards and my memory to serve me. I have been in many a nerve-wracking situation but nothing has ever rattled me like the affection of a beautiful women. I am a champ at hiding it and playing it off but trust me its there. Please rock my world baby. I am ready and willing.

If a dream week is possible then I guess I know mine. On Sunday the Redskins win a big game. I celebrate by having a few drinks with some friends. In a drunken stooper I say something funny that I make a mental note to expand on later. I spend Tuesday expanding on that very thought and jamming to a kick ass new song. Come Wednesday I have a brand new bit to unveil on open mic night. I do the bit and it kills. My hilarity attracts the eye of quite the beautiful women. We hit it off and exchange numbers. I wait the industry standard and call her on Friday. We make plans to do dinner Saturday night. The night goes wonderfully. She laughs at my jokes and I wait on every word she says. She smells amazing and her smile, well it just does it for me. I am smitten. I awkwardly go in for a goodnight kiss and she, undeterred, follows my lead. We kiss slow, soft, passionate, just perfect. I hug her tightly and reflect on an amazing week.

I’d kill for a week like that. I long for a week like that. Maybe one day huh? A boy can dream can’t he?

10 Random Thoughts 2.0

2006-08-08T23:10:00.000-07:00

1. Why do people say "I'm probably dating myself here when I say this but....." As if I don't have a general idea how old you are already. Like I thought you were only 25 but then you tell me about how you voted for Carter and I'm supposed to be like, "Wow, you're in your 40s? The gray hair, wife, minivan and the four kids you have ranging from 5 to 17 didn't clue me in at all."

2. I hate people that have that Blue Tooth Cell phone thing that wraps around your ear. Are you that fucking busy that you dont mind looking like an idiot? If you're getting 100 calls a day I understand the need for it but beyond that get a life. All you do is end up looking like someone who's trying to look cool and down with everything new.

3. I hate anyone who reads that and calls me a hater. You're an idiot and you'll never realize why. You know who else would have been labeled a hater? People who were against things like the Earth being flat, Slavery, Hitler, the Berlin Wall, New Coke, Milli Vanilli, Star Jones, Carson Daly and Basic Instinct 2. Hating has its place. Realize!

4. You only live once. I don't understand the way people use that theory in their life. People always say, "You only live once" right before they're about to do something crazy like do their 10th shot of Tequila or bungee jump or have sex with me. My thinking is that if you truly only live once, shouldnt you be more careful with your life? Shouldnt you be like, "You only live once. I better eat that apple. You only live once. I should get to bed early."

5. Perfectionists are just people with low self esteem. If you can't be proud of something you created thats only 95% perfect then you've got some issues. Sure, we all strive for perfection but perfection is a pipe dream. It doesn't fucking exist! If you need something to be perfect to sleep at night then you are perfectly fucked.

6. Thus far, I feel this has been a perfect blog.

7. They say 40 is the new 30. That's cool and all but I think we need to talk about how 14 is the new 18. These girls today not only have breasts by the time they're 14, they also have the pierced nipples, the Kama Sutra memorized and the older sister who waxes poetic about her love of the taste of cum. Call it sexual inflation, I don't care. Whatever you call it, I have a High School girl to fuck. If only 5 inches were the new 8 inches.

8. I've been drinking that Vitamin Water stuff a lot here recently. I think it's because the word Vitamin is so powerful. If you put Vitamin in front of something it will sell. Vitamin Beer, Vitamin Bacon, Vitamin Brownies, Vitamin Heroine, etc..... Maybe I should change my myspace name to Vitamin Rob. I'm funny and good for you.

9. What are people doing at the bank drive thru that takes so fucking long? The drive thru window is for two things: depositing money and withdrawing money. Sometimes you can do both at the same time. This should take like one minute, two minutes tops. Yet I always get behind the moron who thinks the drive thru is the place to be applying for a Home Equity Loan or for opening up a new account at the bank or for getting coin wrappers and then proceeding to wrap $276 worth of nickels and pennies while still at the fucking drive thru window!!!! Stop with the 7-minute extended banking remix. I want the Radio edit dammit!

10. Isnt it time Keyboards start coming with an @ button? @ shouldnt have to share with the measly 2. @ deserves its very own button. ` has a button. * has its own button. Meanwhile poor little, used 150 times a day @ is sitting in the back of the bus secluded from the other buttons. Where;s the Rosa Parks for @? And if @ gets its own button, www. and .com should as well. Right now to type in www.robmaher.com you have to hit 16 buttons. And to email me at RobMaher@gmail.com you have to hit 19 buttons. If @ got its own button and www. and .com got its own button www.RobMaher.com would only take 10 buttons and RobMaher@gmail.com would only take 16 buttons. That;s a total savings of 9 buttons. The less time we spend hitting buttons, the more time we could spend getting our work done or more realistically looking at porn. The point is, time is money. So if we save time we save money. So with all the money well be saving we could solve some of the worlds problems. With the press of a button, no more Aids in Africa. And to think, if www.RobMaher.com was its own button and RobMaher@gmail.com was its very own button, gas would be down to a buck a gallon. Somebody notify Al Gore.

This Weekend

2006-07-26T22:56:00.000-07:00

I will be headlining Wiseacres this weekend. Be there! It will change your life.

Liquid Cocaine, Broke Neck Mountain, Skeletor and Jon Mumma

2006-07-14T11:54:00.000-07:00

Tuesday night I went to an open mic night in Westminster, MD. Westminster is to comedy what Nashville is to Hip Hop or what country line dancing is to making someone fuckable. I knew the show would be an absolute train wreck but I was going with some of my best comedy buddies so I knew it would at least be an entertaining train wreck. The show did not disappoint.

The show begins with the always promising 15 crowd members to 7 comics ratio. As the few first few comics go up it becomes painfully obvious that this is going to be a crowd work only night, meaning straight material isn't going to get a response, you're going to have to talk to the crowd. I laugh to myself as I see my extremely funny friend and Westminster first timer Jon Mumma writing up a set list. A set list at this shit hole? I'm sure Jon had written down a bunch of bits that are funny and that he's done before and a few new bits but in my mind his set list read

Joke that always kills that will induce silence and awkward stares
Smart and funny observation that will lose them at smart
Bit that won him the DC Improv contest but here will walk a table of six
New joke that would eventually kill in a real club but because it bombs so hard here Jon will lose all confidence in it causing him to prematurely retire this made for Letterman gem
Ivan Drago quote from Rocky 4 (inside joke but trust me its hilarious so laugh dammit!)
No matter how funny this joke is it will be interrupted with a chorus of "Fag!" from random frat guys

I think you see my point. Save the set list for a real show.

The show is wrapping up as just Jon and I remain to be slaughtered. Jon goes up with his trusty set list and in front of 20 people who haven't laughed all night does an hour, one whole fucking hour of sometimes brilliant, sometimes ridiculous, sometimes offensive and then sometimes brilliant again comedy that was all the time a fucking blast to see. His set list? Not once was it used except maybe as a coaster for one of the 10 shots that were bought for him. Jon isn't a big drinker at all and he's not a dirty comic at all. But that night he was both. I watched him and thought wow..... he's morphed into me, a dirty foul-mouthed drunk. God bless him. Jon did exactly what you had to do that night and that was crowd work. He talked and fucked with the crowd and he did it well. So well that one guy, who looked like Stone Cold Steve Austin but older so we called him Stone Old Steve Austin, anyways, this guy kept buying Jon shot after shot. And not the same shot, different shit, nasty shit. At one point Stone Old bought Jon this shot called Liquid Cocaine. Liquid Cocaine is a disgusting shot consisting of Bacardi 151, Goldschlager and Jagermeister. It's three things that are tough to take separately and when put together make you vomit all over the fat chick it convinced you to fuck. If Liquid Cocaine were a TV show it would be The View. But Jon's no bitch so he gladly fires the shot down only to immediately spit it out all over the floor. Now that's comedy! He then did 20 more minutes. The Kid's got heart.

This is the part of the blog that will I act like I wish Jon wouldn't have done so much time so that I would've gotten a chance to mess with these people. I will act this way for three reasons. One, I had a few golden lines that I wanted to be able to use on those fucks. There were these two old guys sitting at the bar. The one guy had this floppy cowboy hat kind of thing going on. The second guy was wearing a neck brace. There was a definite weird, gay vibe to them. I was just itching to call them Broke Neck Mountain. That's gold Jerry! Secondly, I was jealous of all the free drinks Jon was getting. I got into comedy for the free drinks. Fuck him for taking what was rightfully mine. Thirdly and by far the most important, it will make Jon's beautiful wife Amy yell at him. Amy is super cool and is hot as she is cool. I figure if he gets to sleep with her he should at least have to take shit from her as well.

This leaves us with the real star of the show. The girl with the fanny pack, the bad boob job and the crooked teeth, Celeste, Westminster's resident skank. You might have seen her trying to kill He-Man. Celeste was the butt of many a joke that night. She's usually the butt of many a bachelor party at a VFW so you'd think she would've taken it all in stride. Celeste aka Skeletor was quite the piece of work. She had that, I've been in a tanning salon for 72 straight hours look about her. And despite me saying to her face, "Cancer called and you answered in a year" she took to me. Another, in a long line I'm sure, of bad decisions on her part. She gave me her card so I could go check out her sexy pics online. Enjoy. Nudity Beware If that picture were a drink, it would be Liquid Cocaine. Ughh!!! Is that the worst fucking boob job you've ever seen? And who gets their breasts done before there teeth? Teeth trumps tits every time. The girls got this fang in the middle of her grill. Didn't Wesley Snipes kill her in Blade? She's half skank, half vampire. She's a Daystripper. To top it all off she claims she'll be in a Cinemax After Dark porno in the spring. She told me she'd be going by the name Phoenix because she's been through a lot of shit in her life and now she's finally risen above it all. Take a second to grasp that people. To most girls the act of being in porno is the going through a lot of shit part of their life. To this girl, it's validation that everything's going to be OK. Fucking a stranger on TV for money is her "Thank God I've made it" moment. Welcome to Westminster.

Comedy is a lot of things but it is never boring. I make fun of Westminster and the people there but that's what makes it all so fun. Every show is different, every crowd is a new story. So thank you Westminster for being you, thank you Celeste for not knowing any better and thank you Jon Mumma. I look forward to your next hour.

Hack To The Future

2006-07-12T00:26:00.000-07:00

It never ceases to amaze me the jokes some comics tell. More specifically, the outdated jokes they tell. I was at this show the other night at this new club in Baltimore, Rascals. The show was essentially an audition to work the room. We were told to do our best 6 minutes. I guess not every comic heard that part. This guy I never heard of goes up, we’ll call him Hack To Be Named Later, starts his set by saying he just moved to Baltimore two months ago because he got a role on Homicide. In case you’re not familiar, Homicide was a TV show on NBC that took place and was shot in Baltimore. There are a few things wrong with this “comics” claim that he moved here recently to be on the show. First thing, Homicide has been off the air since 1999! If you moved here to be on Homicide you might want to find a new agent. Second thing, you never had role on the show. Homicide routinely hired extras for the show and maybe you were one of the 1,000 that scored that sweet 6 bucks an hour for 4 hours gig in the dead of winter but you never had a role. A role means you’re character has a name and I don’t know, maybe, lines!!!! Third thing, if you’re going to lie, why not just say you moved here because you got a role on The Wire. The Wire is a show, like Homicide, that takes place and shoots in Baltimore, hires a lot of extras but unlike Homicide, its still on the fucking air!!!! Not only is it on the air but they were actually shooting two months ago. Making your lie current and almost believable couldn’t have been any easier yet you still failed to do it. Pathetic. I tried to talk to him after the show and ask him if he knew anyone that could help me get a role on Hill Street Blues but unfortunately he had left already.

That brings us to Count Hackula. This guy goes on stage and does the most outdated, ridiculous book joke I’ve ever heard. Ready? Did you hear that magician David Copperfield has Aids? He got it from doing too much Magic. Get it? A fucking Magic Johnson Aids joke! 9th grade called, they want their joke back. Come on Haq Diesel, at least say David Blaine. We are essentially on a job interview and this guy does a 15 year old book joke. You might as well show up at a real job interview and brag about how familiar you are with Windows 95. The real tragedy here is that the joke killed. The lowest common denominator always works. Welcome to the profession I’ve chosen.

My Cell Phone Sounds Like Shit.

2006-05-17T13:18:00.000-07:00

I flushed my cell phone down the toilet. I'm not speaking metaphorically here; I actually flushed my cell phone down the toilet. Allow me to explain. I'm teaching my driver improvement class this past Saturday. I am a horrible teacher and spend most of my time playing a video and then leaving the room. I do however, attempt to get back to class before the video is over with. I am a bad teacher but I'm not a total fuck up. So I have about 6 minutes to go until the videos over and I need to get back to class when I start to feel some rumblings in the stomach. I'm by no means a fan of using public bathrooms to do that deed but I am less a fan of shitting my pants. I would have preferred to wait until after the video was up and just given the class a break but my stomach was not in the mood to wait. So I venture into the bathroom to take care of business, all the while checking my cell phone to see how much time I have left, I don't wear a watch. Since I kept checking my phone this meant it wasn't securely in my jeans pocket but on the edge, not completely buried in the pocket. You probably see where this is going. I finish doing what I have to do with about a minute to spare. Mission accomplished. I dismount and turn to flush the toilet. I guess I dont stick the landing for as I turn towards the toilet my cell phone flies out of my pocket and into the toilet/its vile grave. He shoots he scores! Goal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am in a state of shock at first. I stare at my phone just inches away from me but miles to go before sleep. I have to get back to class in a matter of seconds so I have to act quickly. If I was at home I could have maybe found something to pull it out of the water and then taken my time washing it off and cleaning it with the hopes of salvaging it. But I'm not at home and have no home toilet advantage. My cell might as well have been wearing a Redskins jersey floating in Cowboys toilet. I was shit out of luck. Pun intended. I decide the only option is to end it. Dead cell phone floating! With much dismay I flush the toilet and with it I flush my cell phone, all the numbers inside it and all numbers I could have acquired with that phone down the drain.

Some might say it's a metaphor for me moving on with my life and meeting new people or maybe the lesson here is, I should just wear a watch. I prefer to blame everything on the handicapped stall. The only stall in the bathroom was a handicapped stall so dont hate on me for using a handicapped stall when Im not handicapped. Me not being handicapped is debatable by the way but that's a subject for another blog. The point is I was only in the handicapped stall because that was the only stall available. And the extra room in the handicapped stall allowed me to turn towards the toilet with enough momentum thus flinging my cell phone out of my pocket and into the Sea of Stankquility. In a regular stall I would not had enough room to turn with such force. My cell phone would have lived to have roaming charges another day.

Unfortunately for me, that's not the case. I guess it was karma in the end. For years I've made fun of the handicapped and called my cell phone a piece of shit. Payback's a bitch

Meet Brad's Cock

2006-05-12T00:50:00.000-07:00

Is there a double standard when it comes to nudity in the movies? Is it unfair that women routinely get completely naked in movies while men rarely bare more than their ass? Every women I’ve ever known would most definitely tell you there is a double standard and that its completely unfair. They’re wrong.

The only reason that women show it all in the movies and the men don’t is because men are smarter consumers when it comes to nudity in the movies. Women support shitty movies just because a hot guy is in the movie. You ladies don’t give a Brad Pitt any reason to take it all off where as guys demand nudity. No man has ever gone out and seen a movie just because there’s an attractive woman in the movie unless of course that attractive woman gets at least topless. After Basic Instinct, Sharon Stone was the biggest actress in the world so why was she not able to capitalize on that fame and star in a string of hits? Because we, as in men, had already seen the no panties uncrossing the legs shot. How was she going to top that? She wasn’t. Sharon Stone was just as hot and just as naked in Sliver, the movie she made right after Basic Instinct, as she was in Basic Instinct but no guy went out and saw that movie because it was a piece of crap. The only way men are ever going to support another Sharon Stone movie is if it’s a good movie like Casino or if she stars in a porno. But at least Sharon Stone kept getting naked in movies unlike Halle Berry. Halle Berry was just another actress until she bared all and fucked Billy Bob for ten minutes in Monsters Ball. Every guy has seen that scene and how was Halle Berry rewarded for taking it all off? By being the first African American actress to win the Academy Award for Best Actress. Pussy power at its finest. And since Halle Berry won the Oscar, how many movies has she been nude in? Zero. And since Halle Berry won the Oscar, how many movies has she been in that tanked at the box office? All of them. Penis power at its finest. Every man in the world thinks Halle Berry is super hot and we all think seeing her in a skintight cat suit is sexy as hell. Every man in the world still finds Sharon Stone attractive and every man in the world loves movies about Super Heroes. Yet, none of us went and saw Cat Woman starring Halle Berry and Sharon Stone because the movie sucked ass yet didn’t show any.

Ladies, if you want to see the Brad Pitts and George Clooneys of the world show it all then stop supporting the bad movies they make. You think Brad and George are above dropping trow? Hell no! It’s all about the money. If every woman had boycotted Oceans 12, Oceans 13 would be called Oceans 13 Inches. If you stop going to see movies like Meet Joe Black you’ll meet Brad’s cock. It’s simple supply and demand. Demand to see every hot guy in Hollywood whip it out and ladies, he’ll whip it out. Skipping a few bad romantic comedies is a small price to pay for a lifetime of dick and balls on the big screen, isn’t it girls?

Sweet Sixteen

2006-04-26T00:27:00.000-07:00

This past Friday night I performed at a 16 year old girls Birthday party. Fuck Letterman when you can perform in front of the girlfriend of a letterman. Her Mom had rented out this comedy club for the night. There was to be comedy, karaoke and a DJ. However, there apparently wasn't supposed to be any laughter. 16 year old girls didn't like me when I was in High School and they don't like me today.

The booker told me that a friend of mine had recommended me for this gig, saying I'd be perfect for it. I'm not sure what that says about me but I am sure if this "friend" of mine ever tries to tell me some girl he knows is perfect for me, I will make sure to never meet her. I was perfect for this gig in that OJ is the perfect husband kind of way. To be fair, if I was allowed to be me, to do my act and do what I do, I would have had a field day with this bunch. But that was not the case. Mom talked a big game about how any and all material was game. She even signed something that said we could say whatever and she wouldn't object. A comedy Pre-Nup if you will.

We met the birthday girl and she promptly showed us her piercings, belly button included, and her tattoos, the one right at her panty line included. I promptly felt an R Kelly moment. Maybe I'm getting old but do all 15 year old girls have tattoos and multiple piercings and do all 15 year old girls have no qualms about showing those piercings and tattoos to complete strangers? I just used the word qualms. I am getting old. Me getting old aside, I felt the birthday girl showing up wearing the Fisher Price How To Be Whore starter kit coupled with Mom signing the anything goes "Pre-Nup" boded well for the evening. Wrong answer!

The show begins with the booker/MC Kevin. He didn't bother updating his references for the crowd as he called a table full of black kids the Huxtables. The Huxtables!? These kids don't know who Bill Cosby is much less the Cosby Show. To them the Cosby Show is the show Raven Simone used to be on. You might has well of called a kid Eddie Haskell or yelled, "To the moon Alice, to the moon!" My boy Seaton then goes up. Seaton is very funny and decides immediately he's going to test out Mom's anything goes promise. One minute into his act and he's screaming at the birthday girls 10 year old brother, "So you ever fuck a bitch right and...." Classic. Between that and the anal sex references Mom had had enough. She runs up to me saying she doesn't like Seaton and that he's gone too far and for me to get him off stage. She tells me some of the other parents have complained and one mother took her daughter home. I have no sympathy for her for it was her idea to have a comedy show for a bunch of 16 year old girls who couldn't care less about comedy and a bunch of 16 year old boys who think they are too cool to laugh. By the time I get on stage the birthday girl is all about talking to her friends, the boyfriend, who I was going to fuck with, is in the back doing who knows what so essentially I'm performing for the 4 or 5 parents in the crowd. At one point I do my joke about beer goggles. The joke is about how since guys get drunk and go home with unattractive women, what do blind guys do when they get drunk? Do they go home with girls with real shitty voices? I then act this out and hilarity ensues. Except in this case, Britney, the retarded white girl says to me, "But he's blind not deaf so that doesn't make sense." Clueless. I end my set by stealing birthday girls cell phone and reading her text messages. Not groundbreaking comedy by any means but I got a kick out of it. Soon after, I end my set and me and the other comics get out of dodge.

The next night I'm back at the club to perform in front of a normal crowd. The owner tells me some of the kids had smuggled some alcohol into the club and drank up. Mom then let everyone go back to her place while she and step dad got a hotel room. Can we say teenage pregnancy? Being a good Mom is much better for the world than trying to be the cool Mom. And being a good comic is much better for the word than trying to be the comic that appeals to 16 year olds. I hope I end up being the former.

Black Girls are the New Puppy

2006-04-23T20:59:00.000-07:00

Black girls are the new puppy. That is a quote from the great African-American Poet/Author Maya Angelou. Actually it's a quote from my friend Dawn who does happen to be black and quite poetic. She also happens to be right, black girls are the new puppy. Let's explain the puppy part first. A puppy is a chick magnet for a guy. If you are seen walking some adorable puppy, women will flock to you. You walking, loving, taking care of a cute, adorable puppy scores you major points. You are now sensitive. You are now seen as capable of love. You are now everything you probably aren't but girls get caught up in the bullshit hence you're in there. You don't need a first move or an opening line when you have some puppy by your side. The puppy is your first move. It is your opening line. Having a dog allows you to be a dog. Dogs are a mans best friend for a reason.

This brings us to the black girl part. If you are a white guy and you walk into a club/bar/party with a black girl, you are gold baby. You get every positive black guy stereotype placed on you plus every great white guy stereotype placed on you. You are superman. You can dance, have a big penis, have a great job and great credit to. And most importantly, you are now seen as confident. Confidence is sexy to a girl and black guys have the confident thing down. Whether it's an act or if it's the real thing doesnt matter. A black guy in a club is one confident seeming motherfucker. A black guy will walk up to any and every fine girl, black, white, it doesn't matter and can get shut down completely by that girl and not be fazed at all. Oh well, it's on to the next girl. A white guy gets shut down once in a night and we are done! Shot down in a blaze of awkward. Our egos can't handle rejection. Our dicks get smaller after a luke warm yes. We are Pussies!!!!! But when you walk into that club/bar/party with a black girl, perception changes. You are no longer that typical, no confidence, small dick white guy. You are now insert any white guy name X. You are now Chad X or Kyle X or Brandon X. Your shit is right and you get what you want by any means necessary. You have been given the black girl stamp of approval. You are in baby! Say it loud, you're black approved and you're proud!

But fellas, you cant have the black girl you came in with be all over you. That will scare the white girls off for we all know white girls are afraid of black girls. It will also piss off the black guys fo sho. Now you got a room full of white girls who wont even look at you and a room full of black guys who are not really feeling the whole cant we all just along vibe. At that point your best bet is to be the gay friend. So in order to save your ass you gotta be the gay guy. That was funny. Now laugh. The point is, you need your sista to take on the wingman role. My girl Dawn has got this shit down. She's a closer. You can be Maverick and she'll be Iceman. Go to her page now and ask, no beg for her services, http://www.myspace.com/dawndeedawn Read her blogs while you're at it. She's quite the girl. You'll be smitten in no time.

So to my white brethren, go find yourself an accommodating, willing black girl and get to work. Walk into the club with her by your side. Have some pics of your's or someone's adorable puppy on your cell and watch the women flock. How Kyle Got His Groove Back coming soon to a club near you.

I Have a Man Crush on Janet Reno

2006-04-04T18:10:00.000-07:00

The title of this blog has nothing to do with what the actual blog is about but I felt my feelings for Janet Reno needed to be stated. Now lets move on.

As some of you know I teach a Driver Improvement class to earn some extra cash when I'm not doing comedy. I don’t actually teach, it’s more like I play videos and daydream for 8 hours. Take this past Sunday for example. I was immediately struck by this Asian guy who had real spikey hair. I instantly gave him the nickname Spike Lee. For literally an hour, I sat there and thought about how that was the most perfect and awesome nickname of all time. I started to wonder if his friends call him Spike Lee. I'm imagining them sitting around yelling at him to do the right thing, calling him Reggie Millers bitch. I've got his friends calling him Mars Blackman. "Hey man can I bum a smoke? Please baby, please baby, please baby, baby, baby, please." Then I'm like, wait a minute this kid's like 17 years old. He and his friends probably don't even know who Spike Lee is and they for sure wouldn't get the Mars Blackman reference. There's no way they call him Spike Lee. That would be funny and these kids are probably complete morons. Now I'm actually starting to get angry. I'm asking myself, "How in the hell can you have an Asian dude with spikey hair as a friend and not call him Spike Lee? What the fucks wrong with these people? I would kill to have an Asian guy friend with spikey hair. His friends suck This guy sucks. I hate this fucking dude!" Now I'm giving this kid dirty looks and insulting him to myself. "Nobody saw Crooklyn Asshole!"

The first video is about to end, which causes me to jump back to reality. I question my sanity for actually getting so angry with this guy for something I completely made up but I am still curious if his friends call him Spike Lee. I consider asking him but I decide that's just asking for awkward. I decide at that time to make it my life’s goal to befriend an Asian guy with spikey hair. I want my Spike Lee! If you're out there Spike, please add me on myspace.

For the next hour I sat around trying to come up with other ready made nicknames. For example, I would like to meet a black girl who looks like Christopher Walken, sounds like Christopher Walken, can do an impression of Christopher Walken or has been known to put things in her ass, like a watch for example. For the record, I prefer the latter. I shall call her Sistapher Walken. Secondly, I need to get to know a really stupid guy who looks like Neil Patrick Harris, aka Doogie Howser so I can call him Doogie Howser, LD or Doogie Howser, GED. This next one is stolen from my hilarious friend Mike Payne, www.myspace.com/domikepayne. I need to befriend a lesbian who beats her girlfriend. Where ya at Dike Turner? Finally, I need to become friends with a gay guy so I can call him a Cocksucking Faggot! Whoops, I mean I need to find a gay guy who really loves donuts in order to say hey Homo Simpson.

The Winter Olympics Have Jumped The Shark

2006-02-20T23:07:00.000-08:00

I’ve always liked the Olympics. I love sports in general and the Olympics, in my opinion, are sports at its most pure form. It’s running, jumping, skiing and skating. Its athletes in relative anonymity for relatively little money training hours and hours a day for one shot every four years. Its everything that’s right about sports. But I fear that the Olympics, the Winter specifically, have jumped the shark so to speak.

The X Games have taken over the Winter Olympics and I don’t like it. The only reason snowboarding, snowboard cross and the event where they ski off a jump and do 9,000 flips in the air are in the Olympics is because we, the United States, are good in these events. If it weren’t for these events the good ole US of A would only win about 5 or 6 Gold medals tops. We are average when it comes to the core Winter Olympic events and that’s not good enough. We pay the most money for the TV rights so we need to have events on TV that we can win. This bothers me.

I’m not saying it doesn’t take a lot of skill or athletic ability to compete in these X Game-ish events. I’m sure it does. It’s just that they’re not Olympic to me. Skiing down the mountain as fast as you can is Olympic to me. Sledding down the course as fast as you can is Olympic to me. Skating around a track as fast as you can is Olympic to me. Getting wicked air on a half pipe is not Olympic. An announcer that uses the word radd to describe your performance is not Olympic. An event that has Sublime playing in between every heat is not Olympic. A Gold Medallist who credits Bob Marley, Jay Z and Linkin Park as inspiration is not Olympic to me.

Most importantly, these events set a bad precedent. What’s next? If the X Games can find its way into the Olympics, so can the Circus. Is Tight Rope walking, Trapeze Swinging and shooting yourself out of a cannon ball soon to be events? Is fitting the most clowns into a car going to get some country a Gold Medal in four years? My money is on Mexico in that one by the way. Those examples might be a bit far fetched but don’t be surprised if Skateboarding is a Summer Olympic event in the near future. Get ready to hear this statement: Joining Jesse Owens, Wilma Rudolph, Mark Spitz, Dorothy Hamill, The US Men’s Hockey Team, Bruce Jenner, Mary Lou Retton, Carl Lewis, Jackie Joyner Kersee and Michael Johnson as America’s greatest Gold Medallists is, wait for it, wait for it……… Tony Hawk. Jesse Owens and Tony Hawk potentially in the same club. Now that’s Un-Olympic.

The Winter Olympics have jumped the shark people. I fear it’s only a matter of time before the Summer joins them. Maybe they’ll jump the shark by adding shark jumping as an event. I’d watch that. I’m a sucker for irony.

New and Improved Stereotypes

2006-02-16T23:47:00.000-08:00

Its time for some new stereotypes people. Its 2006 and I'm tired of hearing the same old same old. You know, black people love chicken, all Asians knows Karate, white guys cant jump and guys named Rob are great in bed. Its time we start propagating some new shit. If they make sense to you, great. If not, who fuckin cares? Read and then please begin to use these stereotypes in your everyday life. Spread the word people.

1. Black people can’t see rainbows. I don't remember any black people in The Wizard of Oz. Have you ever seen a black Leprechaun? Of course you haven’t because black people can’t see rainbows. It is declared.

2. Asians don't like Ketchup. Have you ever seen a bottle of Heinz 57 at a Chinese Restaurant? Of course you haven't. While dining at PF Changs, you've never heard anyone utter the question, "Can you please pass the ketchup?" Mustard? Yes. Soy sauce? Yes. Duck sauce? Yes. Ketchup? Hell no! What, ketchup isn't good enough for General Tso? Fuck General Tso! I call bullshit.

3. White girls can't parallel park. Be honest here. Lets say your life depends on who can parallel park the best. Who ya going to take between Stevie Wonder, an epileptic monkey, a drunk, retarded midget with one arm and a white girl? The answer is of course, anybody but Sally or Becky or insert any white girl name.

4. Jews can't draw. They can withdraw cash like a motherfucker but they can't actually draw anything. You'll never see an art Professor named Feinstein.

5. All Hispanics snore. Every last one of them. Why do you think Edward Norton left Salma Hayek? He knew he was never going to get anyone hotter but he also knew he wasn’t going to ever get any damn sleep lying next Buzz Saw every night. Being stuck in a hotel room with Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine while they sleep will actually make you wish you were stuck at a Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine concert. Nuff said.

R.I.P. Bitch

2006-02-15T00:51:00.000-08:00

Remember fellas when you used to be able to call a woman a bitch and get a real rise out of her? Ahh, the good old days. Well, those days are long gone. The word bitch just doesn’t have the same bite it used to. Women now routinely call themselves a bitch or refer to their friends as their bitches. Now being a bitch just means you don’t take any shit and you don’t let some man tell you what to do. Being a bitch is empowering.

This sucks for us guys because we need something to say to you damn bitches to piss you off. We’ve still got whore and slut but those are starting to lose their power to. Women like sex just as much as guys do and the whole if a guy sleeps around then he’s a stud but if a woman sleeps around she’s a slut double standard resonates with a lot of girls. You call a girl a slut these days and she’s likely to just laugh it off and come back with something like, “You’re just jealous I’m getting more than you.” Bam, now she’s won the argument and you look like the asshole. Damn you bitch whores!

So what are we to do fellas? I think our hand has been forced and it pains me to have to go their ladies but you’ve given us no other choice. Oh I’m sure we could try to act mature and not resort to name calling but come on, we’re guys, we have no self control. You ladies tell us that everyday. So without the use of bitch, slut and whore its time to break out, yep you guessed it, the “C” word. Time to dust off old reliable. Nothing does the trick like a well placed “Fuck you Cunt!” Anything less than that just bounces off you girls. This aint your Daddy’s female gentleman. You gotta come out guns blazin or its too late. Enjoy it while it last fellas for just like its sisters bitch, slut and whore, cunt to will one day go by the wayside. They say all good things come to an end and being able to get under a girls skin by calling her a cunt is no exception. It might be 3 years, it might be 5 years, it might be 10 years but one day in the future women will embrace cunt like they have every other insult and make into their own word. They’re a crafty bunch those damn bitch whore cunts. Today you call a girl a cunt; she slaps you in the face. Tomorrow you’re at Hallmark buying your fiancé that coffee mug she wanted. You know, the one with “Worlds Biggest Cunt” written on it. Times are a changin.

Opposites Attract

2006-01-03T22:32:00.000-08:00

I've never really subscribed to the opposites attract theory. I've always preferred to date someone who I had a lot in common with. And while I still feel that way, I think the breakup is much easier to take if you were dating an"opposites atract." When you break with an"everything in common," everything you like to do reminds you of that person. "Hey Rob. I heard you and Michelle broke up. Do you miss her?" "Not as much as I miss being able to enjoy Seinfeld. I can't eat cookies and cream ice cream anymore because of that bitch." But if Michelle was an "opposites attract," things would be different. "So Rob, how are you handling the break up? Do you think about Michelle a lot?" "No because I don't listen to Tori Amos or watch Will and Grace. I can do anything I want and go anywhere I want and not once be reminded of her. Its awesome! We should've broken up months ago." So for all you people out there that are dating an "everything in common," things might be all wonderful and happy now but you have to think about the big picture. If / when you break up, you're not just breaking up with him or her, you're breaking up with all the shit you love to do. No more going to your favorite restaurant because all that does is remind you of what you don't have anymore. That CD you two loved and would make love to, you might as well throw that shit out. Suddenly all those songs suck. It's too bad you both loved Christmas so much. You would decorate the house together every year. Cut down your own tree and make your own ornaments together. You'd get drunk on eggnog every night while singing Jingle Bell Rock over and over again. You've seen Love Actually seven times together. Well you can forget about having that Christmas spirit anytime soon. Now the sight of a Christmas tree or the sound "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire...." makes you want to puke. At least Christmas is just a small little holiday that's hardly marketed at all. Oh wait. Have fun being in a gocery store on November 17th and hearing Felice Navidad. Good luck getting that stupid song out of your head and the memories of X that follow. If you're with an "everything in common" right now you've probably convinced yourself that you'll be together forever so you feel this is all a moot point. But if you're single right now and you meet someone and they seem so perfect; you love U2, she loves U2, you love horror movies, he loves horror movies, you love Thai food, she loves Thai food. If you meet this person, run, run away from that person as fast as you can and don't look back. Trust me. I'm doing you a favor. You'll thank me in three years when you're sitting front row at a U2 concert enjoying every note. Your welcome.

The Small Penis Theory

2005-12-13T01:02:00.000-08:00

Fellas, always tell a girl you have a small penis. Whether your packing 4 inches or 12 inches, always say you have a small one. There are several reasons for this. First of all, if you tell a girl your huge down there she probably won’t believe you. She figures every guy says that. Its in one ear and out the other. But by saying your small, this peaks her interest because no guy claims that. Now she’s wondering about your penis. She’s asking herself questions. “Why would he say he has a small penis? Does he really have a small penis? Maybe he has a huge penis and he’s just saying it’s small. Maybe it is small but he just has enough confidence in himself that he doesn’t care that it’s small. Maybe he thinks its small but it’s really average.” Now she’s got your penis on your mind and that’s a good thing. She’s curious about your penis. This doesn’t mean she’s going to do you just to find out but it does help your chances, which brings us to the best part of this little theory.

Let’s say you do end up hooking up with this girl who you’ve told you’re small. Whether you are in actuality small, medium or large down there, you end up like a champ regardless. Lets say you’re a little on the small side. You go to have sex and she sees that you are in fact lacking. She’s now saying to herself, “Oh my God he is small. He wasn’t lying. He was completely honest with me. Honesty is sexy. I love a guy who’s honest. He was upfront with me the whole time. No games, no bullshit. And he had the confidence to admit he had a small penis. He didn’t care that I knew that for he knows he has so much more to offer. That’s so sexy. I’m going to go and fuck the shit out of this small penis.” Brilliant. Score one for the small guy.

Let’s say your Johnny average. She’s expecting a small penis but when she sees your Mr. Medium she’s pleasantly surprised. It’s always a good thing whenever you end up being larger than what the girl expects. She sees it and she’s like, “ He’s not small at all. There’s nothing wrong with his penis. It’s a perfectly respectable penis. I bet some dumb bitch of an ex girlfriend told this poor guy he was tiny and he’s had to live his whole life thinking that. Poor guy. Women can be so cruel sometimes. All this guy needs is a little confidence. I bet I can get him to come out of his shell. I’m going to go and fuck the shit out of this medium penis.” Brilliant. Score one for the average guy.

Let’s say your packing some extra down there. She’s going to see it and be all, “ Wow, its fucking huge! This guy was just messing with me the whole time. He knew he was hung. He’s got the confidence to say he’s small because he knows what he’s really got. That’s hot. He so surprised me. I love surprises. This guy keeps me on my toes. I don’t know what he’s going to do next. It’s an adventure being with him. I’m going to go and fuck the shit out of this giant penis.” Brilliant. Score one for Mr.Big.

So ladies, for the record, I have an incredibly small penis. I’m hung like a seahorse. Call me.

Wham, Bam.....

2005-12-05T21:20:00.000-08:00

I’m not very good in bed. Actually, it’s not that I’m not good, its that I don’t last that long. It’s OK when you’re 17. “Oh, you only lasted 3 minutes. Isn’t that cute.” Well, it’s not cute anymore. This is a problem every guy has at first. I don’t think women realize how tough it is for us guys when we first start having sex. At that age, all we think about is sex but when we first start having sex all we’re told to help us last longer is to think about something else, like baseball or whatever. My mind is like sex, sex, sex and then finally I’m having sex and suddenly its “ Will Cal Ripken ever get hurt? Die Hard is a great movie. I wonder if the A-Team is on tonight.” So the only time we’re not thinking about sex is when we’re having sex. It’s very confusing. It got to the point that I was thinking about sex so much that I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. I was having sex just so my mind could think about other things. I was having sex just so I could get shit done. I’ve got a book report to do. Whose gonna do me? I need to study for my Spanish test. I need a blow job! But after a while that stops working. I’m still finishing quickly, I’m just thinking about weird shit when I do. I’m climaxing thinking about algebra. I solved for X and X = 3 minutes. X = disappointment. X = I’ll never see her naked again. Wham, Bam, I’m sorry Mam.

This all brings us to today, 500 satisfied women later give or take 493 women and satisfied. Rather than go through the trouble of actually lasting longer, now I just spin my sexual efficiency a little better. Allow me to explain. I last three minutes, girl is bitter. I tell girl I would last longer but I’m so attracted to you. I think you’re so hot. I love your smile, your eyes, everything about you. I think you’re the most wonderful, special girl I’ve ever met. You’re intelligent, funny, honest, sweet, caring and simply amazing. Everything about you turns me on. I can’t imagine lasting any longer because of how much you turn me on. Girl says, “Wow, are you really that turned on by me?” I say, “Of course baby. What, do I think I’m 17 or something?” Girl says, “But my last boyfriend could go all night.” I say, “Well, he didn’t love you like I do. He thought you were fat.” Now girl is excited and turned on by how quick I am with her. She’s actually trying to make me finish quicker. If I get real drunk one night and make it to 5 minutes girl thinks something’s wrong. “Am I getting fat? Do you not love me anymore? Is there someone else?” Now I’m buying girl flowers. “I’m sorry for almost satisfying you baby. It will never happen again. Love, Johnny Come Early.” Wham, Bam, Your Welcome Mam!

Now ladies, if you’re reading this thinking that bullshit would never work on me, there’s only one way to find out. And if there happen to be any women out there that would’ve considered having sex with me but now won’t after having read about my lack of stamina, well, don’t believe everything you read on the Internet. God Speed.

10 Random Thoughts

2005-12-01T22:24:00.000-08:00

1. My favorite quote

My favorite quote is from Mike Tyson, believe it or not. "I'll fuck you till you love me." Now don't dismiss it as just some bad pick up line. Think about it for a minute. First of all, its kind of erotic. I'm going to fuck you so good that by the end of it you won't just love fucking me, you'll fall in love with me. Second of all, here's this barbaric, angry, confused man yelling at a bunch of reporters, "I'll fuck you till you love me." When you get past his anger and vulgarity, what he's essentially saying is that he just wants to be loved. What's more romantic than that?

2. Socks

I once knew a guy that never wore the same pair of socks twice. He would constantly buy new white crew socks. He loved how a new pair of socks felt. I thought he was crazy. The other day I bought some new socks myself. I put on a pair and was reminded of how nice and comfy they make your feet feel. Yes, I said the word comfy. I thought, maybe he's on to something. If you start every day with your feet happy, maybe the rest of you just follows.

3. Snoring

Why is that people who snore don't believe you when you tell them they snore? Why would I lie about that and how can they know they don't?

4. Chalant

How come no one ever uses the word chalant? You hear nonchalant said but never chalant. "Mam, your son was just in a car accident. Are you concerned?" "Yes, I am feeling very chalant about the whole thing."

5. Tattoos

I don't get the fascination with tattoos. I'm not against anyone getting a tattoo but I could never get one. I can't imagine there being anything I'd want to put on my body that I wouldn't be bored of in about 5 hours. I can't even wear a hat because then I know I have to wear it all day because my hair will be messed up. That's just a one day commitment and I'm out, let alone a lifetime commitment that a tattoo brings.

6. Personalized plates

I don't get the fascination with those either. See above for some of the same reasons. Also, I'm against anything that makes my plates easier for the cops to read. When I'm driving home drunk at 3am on a Tuesday night (yes Tuesday night, I have a problem) the last thing I want is the cops to be drawn to my YGR4EVA vanity plates.

7. Pineapple

Pineapple is the most underrated fruit ever. Think about it, its wonderful on its own, its great on pizza, its great with chicken and it has its own cake, Pineapple Upside Down Cake. Take that strawberries!

8. Topless hair salons

They would kick ass. That's all.

9. Shorts

I hate it when its an abnormally warm day but still not actually warm, think 55 in February, and there's some idiot wearing shorts. Everyone else is enjoying the fact that their not cold for the first time in 4 months while this moron has managed to wear an outfit that ensures, on the warmest day in months, he's still cold.

10. Life

I think life is simple but people are complicated. You love someone worth loving who loves you back. You surround yourself with friends who are true friends. You work at a job that challenges and drives you and satisfies you. You live in a home that feels like home. You do all these things and you are the happiest person alive. Its not complicated yet its so hard to accomplish. Good luck to all.

Romantic Comedies

2005-11-30T12:57:00.000-08:00

I never understood why women love romantic comedies so much. They’re always about some incredibly gorgeous girl and her plight to find Mr. Right. It’s always some girl like Julia Roberts or J Lo who you know has no problem getting a man. Some perfect 10 gets swept off her feet and every women stands up cheering, crying tears of joy. Yet, if some perfect 10 walks into the bar you’re at, every single one of you cops an attitude. You and your friends start talking about her. “Look at that bitch.” “Who does she think she is?” “Only a slut would wear those shoes.” “Fake tits.” However, if that girl’s on the big screen being chased in the rain by a guy holding a boom box playing “In Your Eyes”, she’s your hero.

If I were a woman I’d find romantic comedies depressing. Take every Meg Ryan movie for example. Meg Ryan is an incredibly attractive woman and in all her movies she plays an intelligent, successful woman yet it basically takes a miracle for her, an intelligent, successful, gorgeous woman to find a good man. She’s meeting guys through radio shows and over the Internet. She’s faking orgasms in a diner just to get attention. Then in City of Angels she falls in love with a man who isn’t even alive. He’s an angel. And no I don’t mean he’s so wonderful, he’s an angel. I mean, he’s an angel! He’s from heaven! She, Meg Ryan couldn’t get one good man who’s living on this plane. And then, to top it all off, in the movie Kate and Leopold the man of her dreams is from the year 1870. He comes through a portal of time to sweep her off her feet. She couldn’t attract one nice guy from this time period. Meg Ryan needs time travel or an act of god to find true happiness yet Cosmo tells you, Sally Average, you can go to the grocery store and find your man. He’s in frozen foods just waiting to sweep you off your feet. Your soul mate’s buying fish sticks.

I guess the moral to all this is that women are retarded or that they really feel a good man is extremely rare. I’m talking like for every 50 good women there’s 1 good man kind of rare. I don’t think that’s true but to get into all this would mean I’d have to type a lot more. We’ll save that for another blog. I will now imagine people telling themselves they look forward to reading that blog.

Hey

2005-11-30T12:54:00.000-08:00

I've been using myspace mainly to blog but I like to see my name in as many places as possible. Enjoy.