Happy my birthday to you!

In honor of my birthday in February, Side Splitters Comedy Club sent me an email offer for two free tickets to an upcoming show.

How nice of them!

I selected the show with headliner Chris Roach on Friday, February 17th at 8:00PM. But, uh-oh, I can't sit there and watch that show, BECAUSE I'M HOSTING IT! Silly me, I totally forgot!

Well, what's done is done; might as well let someone enjoy my birthday present and profit from my stupidity. Anybody who expresses interest in wanting these tickets between now and my actual birthday (Monday February 6) will be entered into a drawing to get them. Maybe leave a comment here. That seems like a good way (death threats and ads for knock-off sunglasses will not be considered for obvious reasons).
If you're the only person who does that, your odds of winning are REALLY good! If nobody does it, it'll be my saddest birthday ever and I've had some really sad birthdays. So everybody wins!! Yay!
Did I mention that these are really good seats? These are really good seats. Not in the front row, because I know some people are afraid of that, but very close to the stage.

CHRIS ROACH

(w/ your host Clark Brooks and special guest TBA)

Friday

Feb 17, 2017

8:00 PM 

(Doors at 7:30 PM)

Side Splitters Comedy Club

12938 North Dale Mabry Highway

Tampa, FL 33618

(813) 960-1197

Thank you, Burger King!

I don't know if I've ever mentioned this or not, but I'm pretty much completely off of fast food. I might not have, because I'm not one of these people who feel a need to share every last nuanced detail of my personal life. Then again, I could have posted a 700 word post about it because I'm a self-obsessed jackass who is just as prone to oversharing as anyone else. Who knows? Sure, I could do a quick search and find out for sure, but I don't want to.

The point is I don't eat food from fast food restaurants anymore. Mostly.

SOME BRIEF BACKGROUND: I lost most of whatever attraction I had to fast food (Convenience? Value? Quality? All myths) once when I was eating something from Checkers that was just awful. Three bites into whatever horrendous, hot, salted lard lump from a colorful paper bag, shoved at me through a window by some sullen teenager, I just became disgusted and threw it in the trash. I didn't ask for my money back, choosing instead to let it be a life lesson. "Man, Checkers is straight-up garbage." Since then, I cut way, way back on anything allegedly edible purchased from a drive-thru.

But I'm human and weak. And the other day, for whatever reason, I found myself craving a Whopper (with cheese), the flagship burger from Burger King. Nostalgia? Advertising? Self-loathing? All I know is I wanted one.

Here's what it looks like, according to Burger King...

That is one good looking hamburger sandwich! The perfect sesame-seeded dome on top. Sweet creamy mayo. Lettuce so healthy that it appears to be growing on the sandwich itself, like the ivy on the outfield walls at Wrigley Field. Bright, vibrant tomatoes. Cool onion slices, some crispy pickles and ketchup lying on the burger itself, all on top of a soft foamy bottom bun.
What an aesthetically inviting meat item! I wanted one!

So I went to my neighborhood Burger King and ordered myself a Whopper with cheese.
And this is the exact item that I received...

Quite a difference, eh?
Of course I was disappointed, but I thought, "Maybe they just screwed up. They just got the order wrong and slapped a piece of meat between the (deflated, mangled, fissured) buns. I know there are psychos out there who order that kind of thing on purpose. No problem, it's an error that can be fixed."
But then I lifted the top bun, and I swear to you this is true, all the stuff was there! Lettuce, mayo, tomatoes, onions, pickles, ketchup and cheese. None of it looking like anything from the top picture, though. It was all just kind of...droopy. But it wasn't an employee error. Whoever made it, did so exactly as the recipe demands. Can't blame the craftsman if all he has to work with is a set of droopy tools.

I didn't complain. I didn't ask for my money back; technically, they gave me what I ordered. Even though this isn't a burger that should be presented as the signature menu item of a successful global corporation that's been in business for decades. This is a burger that's fallen on hard times and now blows guys in the restroom at the bus station for crack money. As such, I just threw it in the trash and left.

But thanks, Burger King. Sincerely. Because of you, I think I'm finally completely cured from any desire whatsoever to visit a fast food restaurant ever again.

Why I'm not performing at any of the Presidential Inauguration festivities

Donald Trump will be officially sworn in as the 45th President of the United States tomorrow. Leading up to the ceremony and all the galas celebrating the event has been talk of all the performers who will not be participating.

I'm one of them and I'd like to use this forum to explain why.

First of all, I need to be very clear about this: I wasn't asked. Not only was I not asked, I'm sure I wasn't even considered. I'm positive of that. That's because there's no good reason that I would be. Ever. I'm not exactly a "name" and as such, I'm not showing up on any kind of radar that would make anybody consider saying "let's get this guy" for a high profile event like a Presidential Inauguration or even anything bigger than a medium-sized wedding reception. At this point in my comedy career, I am getting paid to perform but I'm also subject to being bumped by a kid ventriloquist at any given gig. That's where I am in the grand scheme of things.

"Okay Clark, you can still do 10 minutes but you'll be following Jimmy and His Pal Scratchmo."

So yeah, that's a big part of it. The biggest part of it, if I'm being honest, which I am. There was no invitation nor even a slight chance that there would ever be an invitation.

Even if I had been invited, (and barring a late phone call today, it looks fairly certain that I won't be) I would have said no thanks. That's because I simply don't think Trump is qualified in any way whatsoever to serve as the President of the United States and in no way do I want to offer anything remotely resembling validation of him assuming that role. There are dozens of examples of his erratic, ego-driven behavior, complete lack of self-control and utter resistance to being held accountable for any of it. Any one of those should give a reasonable person pause and I don't need to detail them again here. Safe to say I'm appalled at all of it and I'm horrified that he's going to be in a position to do real harm to people, not only in terms of their access to hard-earned Constitutional rights but his total lack of sound judgment in all areas.

Not me, of course. I'm a white, heterosexual male. In all likelihood, I'll be fine, as always.

Unless, you know...

I like to think beyond my own personal preferences and desires when it comes to big things that affect other people, though. And not because I believe that I'm some superior person who is qualified to look down and judge others due to the stellar job I'm doing as a human being. Far from it. I frequently wear underwear that is in such bad shape that it takes effort to determine what holes the legs go through but I don't throw them away because the waistband is intact. 

I am a severely flawed individual. 

However, I look at history and times when people fought oppression and injustice, applied those instances to me and my life and how I think I would have responded and I've always found myself on the right side of these disagreements. Every time. So I think I have pretty good discretion when it comes to knowing the difference between right and wrong.

Granted, in most of these incidents, with the benefit of hindsight, it's hard to understand why there were ever "sides" in the first place. 

It remains to be seen how this all plays out, but based on my grasp of historical context, my understanding of current events and, most importantly, my conscience, I feel good about the choices I'm making around all of this.

People have accused me of hoping Trump will fail, a foolish proposition because his failure affects us all. Well, I don't necessarily want him to fail because that is true. Anything he fucks up is going to be fucked up for everybody. It's just that he's shown me nothing to indicate that he is capable of succeeding in terms of acting in the best interest of a common good. He can't even make it through a week without getting his feelings hurt by skits on Saturday Night Live. Jesus Christ!

Also, if my ability to hope for things had any actual power behind it, I wouldn't give a shit who the President is.

Most of the people who accuse me of that also say I'm too politically correct and therefor, what is wrong with America, just because I don't sprinkle my vocabulary with words like 'retard', 'faggot', 'cunt' and 'nigger' and my belief that while life will never be completely fair for everybody, if the resources are available to help people, they should be used for that. I'm pretty okay with standing in opposition to those people.

I came across this on Facebook the other day:

"It is a mistake for Democrats to boycott Trump's inauguration. When MLK fought segregation he went TO the places that didn't want him. If you are feeling disenfranchised disassociating yourself will only strengthen the disenfranchisement. If you choose to look at Trump as the enemy it is wiser to share champagne than spit it back at him."

Okay. That's an opinion and the individual who posted is certainly entitled to it. I'd just like to point out one tiny but significant difference; when MLK and other civil rights activists visited difficult areas, it wasn't to help celebrate their accomplishments. And he sure as shit didn't drink champagne with oppressive people.

"I know guys, but trust me, the meatloaf here is terrific!"

The point is, doing the right thing not only isn't always easy, I'm not sure it ever really is. But I'm not here to tell anybody what to do or how to think or even to try to exert influence over their opinions. All I'm saying is my eyes are open, my conscience is clear and I believe the decisions I make are sound.

Anyway, that is the reason I will not be among the people performing at any of the Presidential Inauguration festivities tomorrow and this weekend.
Well, I mean, mostly because I wasn't invited and there wasn't a prayer on earth or in heaven that I would be. That's, like 99%, of it, but the other stuff too. 

Let's Fix It!

Welcome to Let's Fix It!, the show where you call in with something that's broken and we work together... to fix it! I'm your host Bob and I'm told we got a whole bunch of things that need fixing today, so let's get right to it.
It looks like our first caller is Laura, phoning in from Twin Peaks, Washington.

"Hi. Thanks for taking my call. I have a ceiling fan that isn't working right."

Pesky ol' ceiling fan, eh? Heh heh! What seems to be wrong with it?

"I actually sent over a video because it would be a lot easier to show you than tell you."

Is that right? Do we have that video? Oh, we do? Well, let's take a look-see!



Oh my.

"Yeah."

Generally, you don't see that kind of thing in a ceiling fan. They're pretty simple. You wire them into your home's electricity, mount them to your ceiling and pull the chain. If the blades spin, it's working. if not, it isn't.

"So what should I do?"

Well, I don't have a lot of experience with what appears to be some sort of otherworldly, malevolent presence inhabiting a common household appliance and somehow speaking to you through it. I guess the best advice I could offer is to set your house on fire, get out of there and never go back.

"Wow, Bob. Wow."

Sorry I couldn't be of more help. But hey, good luck Laura! Coming up after the commercial break, Carol Anne from Cuesta Verde in Orange County, California needs help with a malfunctioning television set! So stay tuned!

Plug 2 of 2 this week

Here's something I'm doing in Ybor City this Saturday (tomorrow)...

It's at Urban Phoenix Studios and it's a benefit performance, so it's going to help people.

The Not Normal Show

A benefit for the oppressed and in-crisis people of Tampa Bay

Urban Phoenix Studios

2002 E. 5th Ave #103

Tampa, FL

8:00 PM

SATURDAY!

Plug 1 of 2 this week

Here's something I'm doing in Lakeland tonight:

It's at the Pink Piano and I'm very excited about the name of the venue itself. It sounds like it might be a where Chandell hides from Batman...

Come see me and some other Tampa comics try our hand at delivering the yuckity yucks in Polk County.

The Comedy Carnival

The Pink Piano

1015 S. Florida Ave

Lakeland, FL

8:00 PM
TONIGHT!

I have nothing for you today, except this video of a dog playing the trombone. Enjoy.

Hi.
I'm sick.
Actually, I'm better. Thanks for asking. But I was sick, for, like, five days.
As such, I haven't been writing.
As such, I don't have any non-suck material for you.
Had I been writing and presented that to you here today, it's highly likely that it would have been confusing and/or disappointing, which is always a risk when it comes to this. But the difference is I'm not up to being interrogated about it or analyzing it after the fact, as though I'm presenting a thesis or releasing a Beatles album or something.

So yeah, sorry about that.

Here's a ten-second video of a dog playing the trombone to compensate you for your loss.
 If you believe a dog can play a trombone, you should have no trouble believing he can read sheet music too. Not my dog, not my trombone, not my sheet music. Don't give me any shit about that either, please.

Reactions and how to (mis)manage them

The other day, I got this message via my web site:

Name (redacted)
Email (redacted)@gmail.com
Subject writers
Message Hi Clark, I’m a comedy writer who lives in Largo. I’m touching base to see if you ever have a use for writers or cartoons in your act and merchandising. If so, I’d like to visit with you. .If you are interested, I can provide a writing resume, samples, etc. I hope to hear back from you. Sincerely, (redacted)

This message was submitted from your website contact form: http://www.clarkbrooks.com/contact.html

Hmm. I'm conflicted over how I feel about this. Here are the ego-driven reactions fighting for attention in my ego-driven head:

I'M INSULTED!
How dare someone suggest that I need anything in terms of help! I'm a home run hitter! I score touchdowns! Look at my track record! Look at my deployment of sports metaphors!

I'M ARROGANT!
This guy thinks he can offer help to me? This guy, who started a sentence with a period...

...thinks he's in position to offer guidance to me as a writer? Scoffity scoff scoff!

I'M FLATTERED!
I shared this with the unfailingly-wise Vivienne Brown, whose reaction was "Someone is looking at you like a paycheck". Gosh, me? Someone sees me as a star to which they want to hitch their wagon!

I'M HUMBLED!
Maybe I should consider hiring him. I should at least look at his resume. Am I perfect? Of course not. There's always room for improvement, after all. Even Hank Aaron had hitting coaches. Not that he ever needed to listen to them...

I'M INSECURE!
Of course I need to hire someone to help me. I suck.

I'M MISSING THE POINT!
Merchandising? Hmm. T-shirts and action figures and shit? Hmmmmmm...

Welcome back to real life in the post-holiday world!

Hey there! So how was your Christmas? Or the start of Hanukkah? Or the beginning of Kwanza?

"Oh man, it was nuts. My family is crazy! Crazy!!"

Oh yeah, I bet. Grandma is a racist. Uncle is drunk the whole time. Sister-In-Law is just an asshole. Mom and dad treat you like you're still a kid. That does sound crazy! I wouldn't know; most of my is dead, so I don't have those problems.

But it's entirely possible that your perspective on life in the rest of the world has been skewed by so much time spent in close quarters with your own bloodline. And as "crazy" as your holidays may have seemed, let me assure you that it's still straight-up insanity out here. To help you re-adjust to life in that reality, here are some headlines from Tuesday's DailyMail.com, a major media outlet that spent much of the day screaming this in our faces...

Ginger ISIS fanatic orders beheading of elderly prisoner in front of a baying crowd after accusing the pensioner of being a WIZARD

Woman 'watched her stepdaughter being molested by a man in a park - but didn't intervene because she got distracted talking to other people'

Refugee worker, 31, is stabbed to death in Christmas bloodbath in a leafy English village

Penguins prefer to eat sexually aroused jellyfish to krill and shrimp, study finds

'I warned you, do not approach the bear!' Grizzly in a ridiculous costume attacks TV presenter who got a bit too close 

Witch doctor accused of burying evil charms under the homes of his rivals is stripped naked, beaten and paraded around his village in a wheelbarrow

Worst Uber ride ever

Shoe retailer under fire for telling women to take wolf whistles as a 'compliment' and to 'cover up and wear loose clothing' while running

'Heaven has gained another angel': Heartbroken daughter pays tribute to murdered father, 43, after he was 'battered to death by a bodybuilder'

Boy, 10, has his penis sliced in half with a laser during botched circumcision operation

Angry mall elf 'MACES family who brought three-year-old to meet Santa' after they tried to take a picture of her

Teenager, 19, born without arms and legs and forced to live in a plastic BUCKET in Nigeria dies on Christmas Day

Trump adviser who hoped Barack Obama dies of mad cow disease and wanted Michelle to live with a gorilla now says he's 'not a racist' and sent the cruel jokes by 'mistake'

Chaos reigns as malls across the country break out into mass brawls

Viva Ybor!

Now that I spend a lot of time doing this stand-up comedy thing, I spend a lot of time in Ybor City. Because stand-up comedy happens in bars and taverns and Ybor is where the bars and taverns are. For those of you unaware, Ybor City is Tampa's equivalent of the French Quarter in New Orleans or Rush Street in Chicago. I'm not saying it's better than or even equivalent to, but it is Tampa's party district so maybe I am.

It wasn't always that way. Ybor was originally the first real settlement in the Tampa area, home to thousands of hard-working immigrants from Cuba, Italy and Spain who came here to make cigars. Now it's where people come to get weird. I spend a lot more time there now than I did when I was an age where getting weird is not only acceptable but encouraged. Maybe I'm a late bloomer or just slow on the uptake. That's just how it goes, I guess.

Ybor City is a strange place full of strange people doing strange things. I love it! In Ybor, you'll come across homeless people who will try to sell you a crucifix that they've made out of fallen palm fronds. Great. Religious symbols and yard waste; two things I don't want in my home. Yet, in Ybor City, this is a business somehow.

Entrepeneur

During my brief-but-anxiety-ridden tenure as a taxi cab driver, my one sure source of revenue was to make sure I was in Ybor at closing time and look for the white girls, sitting on the curb alone, abandoned by their pack, crying. "I am sooooo mad at my friends right now!" Hop in. Clearwater? No problem! What? Sarasota? Even better!

Cha-CHING!

I don't drive a cab anymore but life goes on and so does Ybor.

A few months ago, one of the bigger clubs in Ybor burned down. Why? Because a non-licensed contractor screwed up while trying to mount a disco ball.

Whoops!

At the time, I thought that was a pretty good summation of what Ybor is all about. But then this happened...

A couple of weeks ago, a bunch of dudes got into a brawl outside of a bar in Ybor at 3:30 in the morning. That ended when somebody drove their car into the bunch of brawling dudes and also into the bar innocently minding its business behind them. Here's video of that happening, followed by some observations...

• First of all, who mounted the security cameras in Ybor, Martin Scorsese? This entire thing is framed and focused PERFECTLY.
• It's impossible to tell who's on whose side here. It's six or seven dudes, all fighting each other. When are there ever six or seven sides to an argument, all worth defending by getting into a fist fight?
• Apparently, it's really difficult to stand up when you're wearing red shoes. Or wasted. Or both.
• My favorite part of the whole thing is how everybody just kind of saunters away after the crash. As though to acknowledge, "well, nothing is going to top that."
• I couldn't find the particular news report I saw when I first heard about this, which is a shame because I could have shown you the TV reporter who felt obligated to speak on behalf of the chamber of commerce, commenting "This incident doesn't represent what Ybor City is all about." Um, yes it does! It's the most Ybor thing that's ever happened in the history of Ybor. The only thing that could make this more representative of what Ybor is all about is if had been homeless drag queens fighting and not just random bro dudes. Sorry, generations of hard-working immigrants. This is Ybor today. They should figure out a way to make this video into a flag and fly it over the Columbia Restaurant (see photo at the top of this story). That's how representative of Ybor this is.

  

  Artist's MS Paint rendition of how that would look.

   
• The reporter also mentioned that the bar didn't plan on closing for repair. Well, of course the bar didn't plan on closing! Why would anybody even think that might happen? I guarantee they didn't even open late the next day. Slap some plywood up there and open the taps! This is Ybor, baby!
• The reason Tampa PD made this video available is that at the time, they were having difficulty tracking down the driver of the car, as well as the brawling dudes. This in spite of having the car. Now, I'm not a detective, but...did nobody look up the license plate? Or the Vehicle Identification Number on the dashboard? Or any of the dozen or so (I'm presuming) other ways to track down the owner of a car available to the police, especially when that car is in police possession?
• Apparently it's harder to solve crimes when the people involved leave the scene before the cops get there. I'll bet this was not received well by all the people in jail to whom it never occurred to just get out of the vicinity. "You mean we didn't have to stick around after we robbed the bank? Well, shit!". So many perfect crimes foiled by criminals inability to plan an effective escape (effective escape = going somewhere else after).

If all of this sounds like I'm bagging on Ybor and that I don't like the place, then I'm not conveying the right sentiment. I love it! The Double Decker Lounge used to host the open mic where I did stand-up for the first 30 or 40 times so it'll always be home to me. Plus, I adopted the owner's cat, Muschi.

As seen when it's time to get up and prepare her breakfast

My friend Amy DeMilo is an Ybor personality, hosting Drag Queen Bingo at Hamburger Mary's and performing at the Honey Pot and other venues.

When not modeling for book covers

I've performed and had lots of fun in other places in Ybor. Such as Liquid, a gay bar that features a stage with a pulsating column of lights throbbing in the middle of it.

You have to navigate high and narrow steps to get up there and I thought about complaining, until I thought about how many people have managed to climb up there wearing 5" heels.

It's important to put things in perspective.

And that's why I can happily say I love Ybor City.

Just some suggestions...

Hi. Let's take a look at your calendar, shall we?

Here's you:
"Oh shit, what am I gonna do for Christmas?!?"

Here's me:

Here's you:
"Whew! Thanks! But...OH NO!...What about ringing in 2017?!?"

Here's me:

Here's you:
"Okay, good. Nice call. But...DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN!!...What about exactly two weeks into the new year?!?!?!?!?"

Here's me:

"An exercise in artistic protest, The *Not Normal Show will feature the great upcoming performers in this area, featuring comedy from Becca Childs, Melissa Nicholas, Blake MacIntyre, CJ Hernandez, and Clark Brooks. Musical performances from Tory Masci, Official.DMT, and Jâŷ Çâmârø.

$15 donation at the door, the proceeds go to the Hillsborough Naacp Branch, and The Crisis Center of Tampa Bay." 

"Homesick" for the holidays

I recently came across an ad for Homesick Candles. Pretty simple; they make candles with scents that represent certain areas, presumably for people from those areas who miss them. For example, if you're from Michigan, like I am, the Michigan candle "Takes you back to The Great Lakes State, with scents reminiscent of indian summers, cherries, and chocolate".

No, it doesn't smell like rust and Flint tap water.

I don't want one because I don't really miss Michigan all that much, but it's a pretty great idea. If the concept takes off, they can boil it down to very specific niches.

For instance, lots of people who start out in stand-up comedy don't stick with it for long. They don't like the hours. They get frustrated by a lack of success. They meet someone who loves them. For any number of reasons, they decide it's something they don't want to pursue. But maybe they remember their experiences fondly and kind of miss it a little bit. Well, here's the perfect gift for them...

It's the Homesick Open Mic Comedy candle!

Shipping note: Product ships by 12/20 and Christmas delivery is not guaranteed.

* Takes you back to those Wednesday nights when you were 28th on the list of 29 comedians scheduled to do five minutes ("you'll get the light at four and don't go over, or I'll cut your mic and you'll never do time here again, you sonuva...") at a dump called 'The Fiddlestick Grill' (or something equally stupid) in front of less than 10 actual customers who all thought it was supposed to be karaoke night ("Well, fuck. We might as well stick around for a while, since we're here..."), with scents reminiscent of nicotine, beer, despair and all the shitty ideas you wrote down in your old notebooks.

Standard issue for all comedians

* Made from all natural soy wax in the USA
* Typical burn time is 60 - 80 hours (which is 40 - 60 more hours than you invested in your comedy, if you're being honest about it)
* Candles weigh 13.75 oz each
* Hand-poured

It's annual holiday extravaganza special time again!

Once again, we're smack in the middle of the holiday season and once again, that means it's time to bring back your favorite immature robot with a foul mouth in lieu of writing new stuff!

Enjoy as much as possible!



Hey, do you want to see more videos? Then click here! (WARNING: Not all of them feature profanity-spewing robots.)

Lend me your ear holes

Tired of reading my nonsense? Listen to it instead!

I will be on Rachel Rowan's "Afternoon Delight" show on WUSF radio (1620AM / 89.7FM or right here on your on-line computing device machine) today (Friday, Dec. 2) at 5:00PM!

What will we talk about? I have no clue, but that has never stopped me from talking in the past.

I'm sure I'll be delightful. Rachel is, so I'll follow her lead.

The standard for getting a town named after you has changed

I'm performing at a show in Brooksville, Florida this weekend. Specifically, this show:

Hey, Brooksville! My name is Brooks! Maybe I'm related to the person the town is named after and it'll be a big deal for me to perform there!
Well, I sure as hell hope not, because the town is named after this guy...

You don't see a resemblance, do you?

PRESTON BROOKS

"Preston Smith Brooks (August 5, 1819 – January 27, 1857) was an American politician and Member of the US House of Representative from South Carolina, serving from 1853 until his resignation in July 1856 and again from August 1856 until his death.
Brooks, a Democrat, was a fervent advocate of slavery and states' rights. He is primarily remembered for his May 22, 1856 assault upon abolitionist and Republican Senator Charles Sumner; Brooks beat Sumner with a cane on the floor of the United States Senate in retaliation for an anti-slavery speech..." - Wikipedia

His greatest achievement was beating the living shit out of a senator for speaking out against slavery, for which they named a town after him. That's equal parts badass and horrifying at the same time.

Step yo' game up and get on great-great-great grandpa Brooks' level of intolerance and hatred, Trump. You pussy.

Yeah, I think I'll just slip in, do the show and leave.

The Brooksville Comedy Show

hosted by Melissa Nickolas

Brooksville Brewing Company

1320 Commercial Way

Spring Hill, FL

Sunday, December 4th - 6 PM

Me, Tim Chirikalov, David Wayne

The year in suck

2016 is going to go down in a lot of people's books as a terrible year.
I guess that's a fair assessment if you base it on the many truly beloved, talented and influential people who died.

I miss Prince something awful.

And of course, the election ran everybody through a wringer and revealed a lot of things about our friends, neighbors and relatives that we could have lived without knowing.
Also a bunch of things that sucked that we don't need to get into because everyone already knows they sucked.

So I get it. Somebody or something needs to take the blame. That'll make us feel better. It's good to have scapegoats.

After all, an actual goat helped Cubs fans feel better about not winning a World Series for over a hundred years.

I just don't know how fair, or logical, it is to pin it on the year, the relatively arbitrary label slapped on a calendar to help keep track of passing time. Nothing really changes on January 1st, things just happen and then they just keep happening. People are going to die next year too.
Besides, it's not like everything that has happened in 2016 has been terrible. What about people who had good things happen this year? People who got well after being sick. People who got better jobs. People who had some pretty great things happen in their burgeoning stand-up comedy career as well as their personal lives?

*Ahem*

What about all the precious little innocent babies (even some human ones!) that came out this year? Do we really want to saddle them with the stigma of getting born during a crappy year?
10 years from now...

"Happy Birthday! How old are you?"
"I'm 10!"
"Oh, so you were born in... fuck you! You killed David Bowie!"

 Anyway, try to enjoy yourself during what's left of 2016. It's only a couple more weeks until 2017, when nothing is really going to be any different.

This happened: More fun with guns

As a still-kinda-new comedian, I'm continuing to cross new experiences off the list. Sunday, I was able to draw a line through "someone getting shot at a show". I wasn't there to perform, just to watch and lend support, but the people who were there to perform didn't get to, so I think it counts.

"Tampa Police investigate nightclub parking lot shooting"

This happened at the Pegasus Lounge on Sunday and calling the Pegasus Lounge a nightclub is like calling McDonald's a restaurant. The Pegasus is a dive bar and makes no pretense otherwise. They've received local acclaim for hosting "Pornaoke" (which is exactly what it sounds like; people singing karaoke in front of a big screen showing porn) every Wednesday. The most notable aspect of that is the severely low quality of the porn. The participants look like they were signed up by somebody with a clipboard at the mall...

CLIPBOARD PERSON: "Would you be interested in making up to $6.50 an hour appearing in pornography?"
PROSPECTIVE PORN STAR: "Sure! But...$6.50 an hour?
CLIPBOARD PERSON: "Up to."
PROSPECTIVE PORN STAR: "Yeah. Isn't that less than the federally mandated minimum wage?"
CLIPBOARD PERSON: "Sir, this isn't exactly the kind of enterprise that's going to send you a W-2."
PROSPECTIVE PORN STAR: "Well, all right. But I will get to have sex with a woman, right?"
CLIPBOARD PERSON: "You let somebody at the mall with a clipboard sign you up to do porn. All of a sudden you have standards?"

 I'm just saying that I don't know what the Pegasus Lounge's budget for porn is but they're getting ripped off.

Anyway, I was there with my pal Spike (of "The Spike On The Mic Show") to watch a comedy show headlined by our friend Rio Paris. It's a bar and they don't serve food so there was a guy with a BBQ grill in the parking lot. Okay, that's all the background.

Spike and I are sitting at a table waiting for the show to start. Rio comes up behind us and says "it's going down in the parking lot! Somebody just crashed into the BBQ grill". Of course we got up to go look because of course we wanted to see that. Motor vehicle vs BBQ grill melee, with sticky chicken parts flying around everywhere? Yes please! Before we can get to the door, a guy comes in yelling "He shot him in the head! He shot him in the head! I can't believe it!"

This slowed us down.

He's followed by a woman, who pulls the door shut behind her. "Get away from the door! Get away from the windows! He shot him in the head and he's still out there!"

This stopped us.

Now, I'd been to the Pegasus a couple times before. Spike never had. But somehow he instinctively finds the back door and is gone.

Maybe I should have mentioned previously that aside from the bartenders, I'm pretty much the only white person there. I'll mention that now, along with the fact that at this point, I'm pretty much the only person in there at all.

And in typical Only White Person There fashion, I'm thinking "maybe we should make ourselves available if the victim needs aid and comfort, or if the law enforcement officers need assistance with their investigation."

Spike comes back in. "Clark! What are you doing?!? We have to get out of here!!"

I snap out of it and I realize that I'm Gene Wilder in 'Silver Streak' or 'Stir Crazy'; I am hopelessly and completely out of my element, and I'm paired with Richard Pryor (Spike), who is only marginally better suited for the situation. Still: "Yes. Of course you're right. Leaving is undeniably the best approach to take at this time", I say.

We go out the back door and it's REALLY dark back there. He's running and I'm kind of tip-toeing. He looks back and asks what the hell I'm doing. I said, "I don't want to trip. What if I twist an ankle or rip my pants?" He replies, "do you want to fall down or get shot??" "Those are my choices? Fall down or get shot? That's it? I'd like neither of those things, please. Can I get a 'none of the above'?"

We make it out from behind the building and there are more police cars than I've ever seen in my life. I don't see a victim (apparently he drove himself to the hospital right after it happened) or an assailant so I'm just hanging out behind a van parked on the side of the building and watching. Spike is gone. He hopped into his truck and drove off, followed by two police cars for a couple blocks before they figured out he probably wasn't a suspect and went back. I find Rio and other friends and saw that they were okay and told Rio, "I'm going to leave before I can't." Because at that point, there was no end to the police cars pulling in. and the parking lot isn't that big. If I don't leave now, I may not be able to for some time. But I could so I did.

Bottom line: I guess I was never in any real danger (thanks mostly to the lady who was so intent on getting people away from the door and windows) but once again, I'm not a big fan of people pulling guns in my presence.