Big Money, No Whammies

Hey gang. I’ll pretend you both noticed and cared that this entry is late and apologize accordingly. I just got back from a fun show at the Bucks County Playhouse in quaint New Hope, PA. I had the pleasure of working with my good buddy and frequent comedy co-star, Kelly Terranova, the funniest comedian in his price range. A good time was had by most.

Everybody dreams about having a dump truck full of cash emptied in front of their house. Sure, earning money is fine, but we’re a nation of dreamers, and dreaming takes no effort. Over the past couple weeks, I’ve missed out on a possible $1,400,001,500. Let me break that figure down for you. Many of you may have heard that Warren Buffett has offered up $1 billion for anyone who can fill-out a perfect bracket. Through the first four days of the tournament, only one bracket is still eligible for the prize. Some guy named Biff Tannen. That guy has a bright future.

I filled out a bracket, hoping to take my 1 in 9.5 quintillion shot at the contents of Scrooge McDuck’s couch cushions. My chances disintegrated after the first game, when Ohio State lost by one point to Dayton. $1 billion out the window. I’m horrible at picking these games. I had a couple 12 over 5 upsets, but those are easy to pick when 3 of the 4 5-seeds crap in their hat and get bounced. The tournament is great theater. The plucky underdog vs. the national powerhouse, over and over again. Once my brackets got busted for gambling purposes, I just started rooting for chaos. If I can’t be right, let’s see if I can be the least wrong. And sometimes it’s great to be wrong. I had Duke getting out of the first round and I’ve never been happier to watch my incorrectitude. The sun shined just a little bit brighter after the Duke, the Cobra Kai of college basketball, took a crane-kick to the mush and got ousted by a 14-seed. Yeah, so what if UMD didn’t even make the NIT? Shut up!

One digit down from the billion, the $400,000,000 was the size of the recent MegaMillions jackpot. I’m starting to think the numbers you get from fortune cookies don’t mean anything at all. And it turns out the numbers of my anniversary and my birthday aren’t that special after all. It’s hard to maintain a sense of self-importance when the universe seems so oblivious to your demands.

A couple zeroes down the line was my most realistic missed opportunity to cash in. I meant to bring this up in the previous entry. A couple weekends ago, I got a call from a comedian buddy of mine. Someone had cancelled last-minute for a show at a synagogue and he thought I might be a good fit. Unfortunately, I was already booked that night, so I told him I couldn’t do it. His reply, “That’s too bad, because they’re paying $1500 for 30 minutes.”
“Give me the number,” I said. “I’ll find a way to make it work.” I gave the lady organizing the event a call and, unfortunately, they had just filled the spot before I got to her. I was still in disbelief, so I asked her, “How much were you offering again?”
“We have a $1500 budget. Why, how much do you charge?”
“Significantly less,” I said. I told her to keep me in mind for anything they have going on in the future. Congrats to the lucky bastard who snagged it. It’s just crazy how much people outside of comedy think our services are worth is in stark contrast to the money we get at actual comedy venues. Just sayin’ is all.

 For those of you who enjoy pro-wrestling, do me a favor and mark June 19th on your comedy calendar. I’ll be opening for the hardcore legend, Mick Foley when he comes to the DC Improv. The stage will be surrounded in barbed wire. Have a nice day.

Buzzer Beaten

Hey there, ‘Redheads… It’s 75 and sunny outside and I’m 35 and unkempt inside, smacking the 57 on the side of the ketchup bottle that is my brain, hoping that something worth a quick blog will slowly ooze out. Then you can dip your eyes in it. The things I do for you.

Even if I wasn’t furiously typing, I’d be inside anyway, balanced precariously on the edge of my seat, watching the NCAA tourney on four separate channels and my girlfriend’s iPad. Some great ones just finished up, including the nail biter between George Mason and Villanova, which was made all the more dramatic by the play-by-play of Gus Johnson. That man can make CSPAN sound exciting. But even he can get too caught up in the excitement. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure he screams, “EXPLANATION POINT!” as George Mason finishes off Villanova. What say you?

That was one of the few games played today that I actually got right. I’d like to encourage all of you to text 9099 to help me recover from my devastated brackets. Paul the Octopus could’ve made better picks than me and he went to the big plate of calamari in the sky six months ago. I’m glad, though. Now the pressure is off and I can enjoy the tournament without obsessively checking to see if I got a game right. I can just assume I was wrong and enjoy my beer.

See you Monday.

Blarney and Friends

Hey there, ‘Redheads… Happy St. Patrick’s Day to one and all. The day we commemorate St. Patrick driving the snakes out of Ireland by drinking enough Guinness to float an aircraft carrier. Mine hasn’t been all that happy. I found out today that my vehicle was totaled in the accident I had on Wednesday. It’s all kinds of smashy. I’m conflicted about it. On the one hand, I’m getting a new car. On the other hand, I’m getting a giant headache dealing with the insurance and all of the other crap. We’ve been through alot together, the Liberty and I. Countless comedy road trips, through all sorts of weather, it was a trusty steed. It only ever left me stranded twice, and both times it was stolen, it faithfully returned to me. Over 163,000 miles of loyal service. Liberty, I hardly knew ye…

Well, that was somber. Let’s lighten the mood with a St. Patty’s Day favorite…

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, if that doesn’t make you smile, you’re not human.

So far, through the bulk of today’s NCAA tournament play, my brackets have remained largely unscathed. I picked the Richmond upset and I was on the right side of the hotly contested Butler/Old Dominion tilt. The one giant pockmark came when Louisville, a team I picked to advance to the Elite 8, crapped in their hat and got beat by Morehead State. The only comfort I take in that is that only two people picked Morehead State to win, Tiger Woods and Charlie Sheen. They are alumni, right? By the way, I caught some of the coverage online today at work, Leslie Visser looks like the Crypt Keeper in a pink sweater. She is not meant to be within a thousand paces of an HD lens.

See you Friday.

Slim Pickins

Hey there, ‘Redheads… And welcome to everyone who found their way here via DCBlogs.com. Stay awhile. Make yourself at home. Here you’ll find mild amusement for your momentary distraction. Give your eyes a snack. While you’re here, why not click on over to my fan page on Facebook or enjoy some of the fine comedic video sketches linked conveniently on the right.

For those of you expecting the third installment in my Mardi Gras travelogue, I’m putting that off for a day for two reasons. First, I was in a car accident this morning, involving a utility pole, so I’m not exactly in the right headspace to reminisce about strip clubs. Second, it’s TOURNEY TIME, and I want to get my horrendous picks on record before the games tip off tomorrow afternoon. I’ll get back to Mardi-blogging tomorrow, as my brackets crash down around me. Let’s get to pickin‘…

In the East Region, I’m pretty much going chalk. I’ve got the 1-4 seeds making it to the Sweet 16. However, I have UNC beating Ohio State to make it to the Final Four. With my luck, Washington will take out UNC in the 2nd round and my ACC/Big East bias will be my undoing once again (I’m looking at you, Georgetown).

In the West Region, I start to upset the apple cart a little. I’ve got Oakland barging their way into the Sweet 16, only to have their plucky little hearts carved out by Duke. But the Cobra Kai of college basketball gets theirs when San Diego State beats them to get into the Final Four.

In the Southeast Region, I’ll take Richmond over Vandy, Florida State over Texas A & M, and the winner of the play-in game over Georgetown as early upsets. All of those mean nothing in the long run, since I have the top four seeds making it to the Sweet 16. Then I’ve got Louisville taking out Kansas, then getting beat by Notre Dame for the spot in the Final Four. If you’re keeping score at home, that three #2 seeds so far.

The Southwest Region is a free-for-all. Let’s just put it out there. I’ve got Kansas State vs. Michigan State as my Elite 8 match-up in this region. That’s a #5 seed against a #10 seed. Kansas State wins which completes my Final Four.

UNC takes out San Diego State and Kansas State beats Notre Dame, then the Tar Heels win the whole shebang. Ok, you see what I did there? Don’t do that.

See you Thursday.

Mad As Hell

Hey there ‘Redheads… With all the hub-bub about the 100th post, I neglected to mention the madness of the NCAA tourney and the gambling thereon (it’s phrases like that that make me wonder if “Charlize” is a verb…it might explain why I keep thinking about conjugating her…best to just move past the parenthesis). This is the time of year that turns the average housewife into the Oracle at Delphi because they pick the perfect bracket based solely on which team’s mascot is the cutest. Amidst all of the bracketology and the in depth team by team breakdowns, the nation’s productivity levels plummet while the degenerate gambling populace check their brackets at work more frequently than I think about conjugating Charlize Theron. I filled out two brackets this year, one on paper and one on ESPN.com with some comedy friends. Looking back on it, picking Florida A&M to win it all was probably a long shot. My brackets have more ugly picks than a guy who eats his scabs.
As crappy as my picks were, I was right about the only two things that matter to me. Terps won. Duke lost. Let me say again, Duke lost. In the first round. And everyone saw it coming. On a day that saw all of the other high seeds advance, they were the lone upset. Mmmm…just a spoonful of sugar to watch the Dukies go down…Duke tears, by the way, are nature’s sweet n’ low. They’re a hateable team…it’s not news, I know but, as a UMd alum (best 7 years of my life…and no, I’m not a doctor), I take special satisfaction in watching the Dukies take a tumble while we play on. It also irks the shit out of me that Coach K looks like the mascot. It’s as if that foam rubber outfit wished it could be a real boy. In case you missed it, here’s the only minute that mattered from Thursday night…

Oh, is this a dagger I see before me? Love it.

Go Terps.

To be continued…