Hey there ‘Redheads… Blogust is just about over and, once again, I’m just about overdue. But, since we had a clog in the blog supply lines, there’s been a build-up of content…a bountiful corny-copia of anecdotes and witticisms await you. Sound the feasting horn. I’m just getting back to the grind after six straight days of shows and roughly 1300 miles driven.
I’ll get to that timeline in a bit, but first let’s wind the clock back 10 days to tell you about the show I did in Indian Head, MD with my good buddy, Chris White. I don’t know if you realize this, but Indian Head is a place of great historical significance. Maybe you read the book when you were a kid. Indian Head is where the sidewalk ends. There wasn’t much out there, except for the building excitement for the comedy cluster bomb we were about to drop.
We descended upon the Black Box Theater armed with good intentions and middling expectations. The place seated 85. We drew 23, elevating the show to rumor status. Those in attendance saw the premiere of our latest video sketch, which, if you’ll dim the lights at your desk, I’ll now show you. Enjoy The International Guilt-Off…
Please to make us viral. Or at least bacterial. Make it worth a handi-wipe.
On to my week-long mild amusement tour of North Carolina. My trip was kicked off by my truck’s air conditioning compressor going kablooey, costing me roughly what I’d be making for the week. Good thing I don’t do this for the money…oh wait. With the repair done just in time for me to make the initial 6 hour schlep, I made my way to the first stop, Lake Norman. The show was above a fun little Irish pub called The Galway Hooker. Located directly across the street was a pole dancing school. There’s a recital I want to attend. I peeked in the window to take a gander…very clean mirrors. We had a surprisingly packed house for a Tuesday night. Good times. After the show, I got to talking to one of the hostesses at the bar downstairs. The conversation turned to future plans and she mentioned that her dream was to be an underwater welder. Add a midget playing bocce ball, and that would be an actual dream I once had. Apparently, underwater welding is a highly paid vocation. Probably because they know how to light a torch underwater. It makes me wish I had pursued that underwater basket weaving degree…to have a skill to fall back on.
Wednesday was a night off from the slate of shows, but I still wanted to be comedically productive. Luckily, my buddy John Betz Jr. lives in Raleigh and was able to to get me on a showcase he was headlining at Charlie Goodnight’s. When I got to Raleigh, I had some time to kill before meeting John at the club. Turns out, Goodnight’s is a stone’s throw from NC State, so I figured why not take a stroll through campus and see just how tough it is for a 33 year old to blend in. It’s back to school time, so there was a huge outdoor poster sale going on for the disaffected youth to adorn their dorms. I took a look at the selection. They were the same goddamn posters they sold when I was in college 12 years ago. Reservoir Dogs, Scarface, Pulp Fiction…don’t these kids have any cultural references of their own that’re worth slapping on a wall? After about a half hour of walking around in the heat, my ass crack became more of an ass creek, so I retreated to the car for an much needed blast of air conditioning. I scanned through the local radio stations and landed on a gospel station. They went to their station meteorologist for a weather report. I half expected him to say, “Whatever happens, it’s God’s will. Back to you.” It finally came time for the show, which was an open mic all stars show. A collection of the club’s finest regular local comics…and me. If you’ve never had the pleasure, do yourself a favor and get down to Goodnight’s. The Wednesday showcase was sold out and the crowd was amazing. Can’t wait to get back there.
After basking in the warm glow of Raleigh, it was off to Greenville for a show at the Comedy Zone. I’m a big fan of any place where you perform in the same location as your accommodations. It makes it easier to stumble to bed without risking injury. Good thing, because in Greenville I was introduced to sweet tea vodka. Holy crap, could I get into alot of trouble with that stuff. Not since somebody gave a baby a hand grenade has a combination been so dangerous. My one complaint about this trip through NC was the lack of sweet tea guzzling. The last time, with all the sweet tea I drank, I brought home a great souvenir of the trip…diabetes. The show went ok. A bit too much slack-jawed gawkery for my taste, but they can’t all be winners.
The rest of the trip went great. I’ve exhausted all the major tidbits, and I’m a smidge exhausted myself. Before I finish up, I’d like to unabashedly plug a few local shows I have coming up…
Friday, Aug. 28th – I’ll be making my return to the late night Bar Bacon Fun Time Comedy Show up in Baltimore. The line-up is pretty stacked… Andy Kline, Hampton Yount, Aparna Nacherla, and possibly Dr. Doom…you heard me.
Saturday, Aug. 29th –
Sept. 13th – I’ll be opening up for the musical comedy duo, God’s Pottery, at DC9…more info to come, but mark your calendars accordingly.
To be continued…
A typo? At a Hooters? I’m shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on in here. Either it was a typo or there was a Mothers Against Drunk Driving event going on. Everybody else seemed all for it, however.
I call this one, “Sweet Victory, Sweet Tea.”
Here’s a creepy wall of puppets I found at J*R Discount Outlet that should adequately haunt your nightmares. 
No comment.
Here’s a receipt I got at a Donato’s in Lake Norman, NC. Check out how the girl behind the counter chose to spell my name. JARADD. I don’t mind that she mixed up the vowels, but what’s up with the double D? I’ve never seen anyone stutter at the end of someone’s name before. It looks like I’m a henchman in a skateboard gang. I’ve seen many misspellings of my name, but I’ve never seen it turned into a Picasso like that before.
And, finally, here’s a prize that was available at the North Carolina State Fair. A stuffed Michael Jackson. Let’s get beyond the irony of winning a stuffed MJ for your child to cuddle with. I’ve never seen a stuffed version of an ACTUAL PERSON. Characters, sure, but last time I checked, Michael Jackson wasn’t fictional. Happy Black History Month, by the way. Stay classy, North Carolina. Sheesh.
JARED STERN'S ONLINE COMEDY CUBICLE 