Fat, Sweaty, Drunk Man Teaches You How NOT To Perform Standup

This six-minute clip, taken roughly seven years ago, represents my last performance as a stand up comedian. After watching for about five seconds, you will understand why.

I've written about my adventures in standup here in the past. I started off trying gonzo bits, like painting FUCK ME on my chest and then having an audience member whip me with my own belt. Then I bought a big black dildo and instructed the women in the audience on giving a handjob. Then I made a ham sandwich for a guy in the audience. If you weren't there to see it, I can assure you weren't missing out on anything special. You probably already surmised that.

Steve Martin wrote that, of the eighteen years he spent doing standup, ten were spent learning, four were spent refining, and the last four were spent being successful. This isn't a job for pussies. You have to love doing standup enough to go to some shithole comedy club night after night after night, surrounded by dozens of other bitter, asshole comics who fucking hate you. And if it took Steve Martin fourteen years of that to get it right, imagine how long it would take the average person to perfect it, if they ever do. You get five minutes and a spotlight to stare at. You hear nothing but your own inner monologue, telling you not to fuck up. It's not a terribly relaxing experience, and doing it over and over is never a guarantee you'll be any better the next time you do it.

Anyway, this video. Goddamn, I am fat. If you want to do standup, you probably shouldn't be fat. Only Kinison could get away with it. If you're a fat comic and you aren't Sam Kinison, that means you're basically Ralphie May. That's not good.

Also, if you're gonna do standup, you probably not spend your entire set staring at the floor. Or doing tired jokes about Trent Lott (timely!), or talking about your wife's poop while she's sitting in the audience, apologizing to her as you're telling the joke. Those are all no-no's.

But hey, that's standup. You live and learn. Or you abandon the practice altogether to become a full-time drinker. I don't regret choosing the latter option. Do your worst, commenters.