A real, actual stand up bit! Good for me!

What's important to me? What do I want to talk about when I go on stage with a mic in my hand and 5 less dollars in my pocket?

I need to discover how to unlock this part of my brain that will allow me to be a good stand up comedian. I want to create material that is relevant, honest, intricate, and fun. Let's start with smash.

I'm not sure if anybody cares or knows this, but I am a competitive video game player. I travel around the country competing in a video game for money. The game I play is the ever popular, best seller, Super Smash Brothers Melee for the Nintendo GameCube. I'm pretty good at it too. I am not exaggerating when I say that Smash is one of the top 3 most important things in my life, the other two being my immediate family and eating pussy... everything else is pennies. Smash is not just a hobby it is a lifestyle and some of my best friends are fellow smash brothers players. Look me up on youtube if you want, Poonslayer7 is what I go by. My gamertag.

If you don't know exactly how ridiculous that is, synonyms include "Vaginakiller" and "Boxdestroyer."

I like the tag, but "The Poonslayer" sounds like a creepy super villain. I feel like I need a counterpart. My arch nemesis, the "G-spot Guardian" . I try to slay, he Deflects away. I try to slay, he saves the day.


Why did I pick that name, well, Poonslayer is because I'm an irresistible man of many sexual talents and 7 because it's lucky. It may seem Ironic that a man who travels around to smelly card shops playing a video game claims such an illustrious title as "Slayer of Poon." But I truly identify with that name. I whisper it to myself on many occasions just as a little ego boost. like -

"Ah man, failed a test? Keep your head up, you're the god damn poonslayer7."



And I feel way better!


The name has caught on, which I admit is pretty uncomfortable. Some of my Girlfriend's sorority sisters call me "Daddy Poon" which is... A dream come true, honestly. Within the smash community there are probably 50 people who know me by no other name than Poonslayer. I hope that never bites me in the ass, you know? I have this feeling that I'm gonna be applying to a promotion in 10 years. I'm one of 7 people for this 1 spot in the company. It's the spot of my dreams, one might call it a G-spot. I have my suit and tie on, I'm sweating, this is the most important moment of my life. I open the doors into the conference room in front of a whole panel of executives when I see one man's eyes brighten. Beaverknight10. He stands up and loudly proclaims to the room of people with complete control over my professional career and yells "POONSLAYER!!"

"The G-Spot Guardian"

Ok, that's definitely a solid bit right there. Now is just the issue of memorizing it, which has always been a problem with me in the past. I can memorize this in two weeks no problem, perform it at the open mic, and see where it goes from there. It's something I care about, so I can definitely see myself working with this until it works.

My sister called me that once, I'm like "Relax Cersei." 

When something's missing and you don't know what

I had a bit of an epiphany over the last couple of days. It's going to sound completely redundant with just about everything else I've written in this blog when I go a long time between entries, but this time it didn't let me sleep.

Maybe it started with this weekend. St Oney's day I had the time of my life at this kid's house that I know. It started off like any other party, except for maybe the fact that a band was playing. The basement was completely packed so I didn't try to see them so I just hung outside with a few friends and drank casually, Alex being one of those friends. When I hang with Alex it's always a good time, and about half an hour into I busted out into a freestyle that was actually pretty freaking good. I think,"I'm going to incorporate as much freestyle rap as possible when I'm in front of people or a camera. This is fun!" Or something along those lines that's less coherent.

Around that point the band stopped playing, but in their dust was a drummer and a bassist. Alex pushes his way to the mic and starts busting out in some song he made up on the spot. I came on after and free styled for a little bit. We alternated, went outside, got bored, then went inside again for round two. This time Alex got on the bass and I was spitting for about 20 more minutes. It was pretty sick, and a crapload of fun. Entertaining like that fills this void in me that constantly refreshes itself and seeks more attention. Lately this yearning has been satiated by the show, and once that ended I allowed myself the spring break (and consequent snow days) to relax and drink and have fun with Ashley. Then this weekend was another party weekend, and then Monday and Tuesday presented some work I needed to do. Tuesday had an open mic (my first time performing stand up in months) and I was unprepared so I had to bust out my poem from sophomore year. When I got home that night I felt strange. I tried to sleep but couldn't and all I remember was plenty of joke ideas entering my head that I was dying to sit down and write about but I didn't and I laid there and wrote nothing, not even a premise or a simple idea. It bothered me. I really need to write again and make sure that my opportunities are not wasted.

I think the weirdest thing about this weekend was my willingness to get a tarot card reading from a girl I knew from the theater department. I was definitely in a hazy head space so maybe my participation was based mostly on that but I want to think that I had a breakthrough away from cynicism long enough to indulge in printed spirituality. Apparently I had an amazing reading, and it gave me some insights to things I already knew. I'm not sitting here advocating for mediums or any voodoo stuff like that, but I definitely liked getting the card reading. It requires cognitive dissonance for sure, but when you believe that the cards will tell you something it's allowing for an outside perspective into your own thoughts and ambitions. That's incredibly valuable, I think, and even more so that the girl giving me the reading stressed the point that I want to travel and that I need to write more. I agree on that front, I seriously need to get back on track and work on some goals.

And that, also, is the scary thing about improv. I love that I have a crew of people that will do improv comedy with me twice a week for a few hours and I think that it's helping me build valuable skills as a comedian and actor, BUT, it's satiating that void with little or no results. I'm having fun, fostering relationships and gaining experience but I have no piece of work that can be shared week after week. That's my big problem right now. Writing material for stand up.

But I've been trying for years now, I should be able to do it. I have been surrounding myself with writers and performers and actors throughout my college career and have made my comedy somewhat of a priority for a long time and I seriously think that I can come up with good material if I stop being such a lazy asshole and really sit down to write. I mean, look at this post right now. I have had a lot of this saved up for a while. My creative stomach has been making noises for months now.

So when I was tossing and turning last night I had to really think about why I couldn't fall asleep. I tried eating and brushing my teeth, that didn't work. Maybe I need to exercise more or drink more water. Maybe I was just uncomfortable or wanted sex. There's a good chance, though, that I just needed to get some of these thoughts on to paper and begin really talking to people when I go on stage. That's what I noticed with Jared, he really wants to tell people his perspective. You really gotta admire that in him. I hope to learn a lesson from him when it comes to telling an honest story and writing as often as possible.

Today is as good a day as any to get back on track. I think I'll continue in this blog today and try to figure out exactly what I'm dying to talk about. Be back soon.



Words I learned to spell: Cynicism