The Notebook

I'll admit it. I came close to tears. I felt them well up. It took every little droplet of testosterone I had in my body to hold it back. I squirmed. Thought of manly things like: beards, drinking beer through your beard, and talking about your beard with other guys with beards as you all stroke your beards and drink beer through your beards.
It didn't help. Sadness turned to frustration to anger as I pounded on the glass doors of the movie theater at midnight.

I left my JOKE notebook inside.

BEFORE WE GO ANY FURTHER ...
All comics write their jokes down. Anyone who says they don't must have never drank, never taken any illegal substances, or never aged.
So unless you're a 5 year-old comedian, you HAVE to write stuff down.

I went to go see that movie "Gomorrah". (It's not an Italian "City of God" as the trailer would have you believe, so I don't recommend it). I had just left an open mike and went next door to the movie theater since well (insert "when in Rome ..." double entendre, since I ended up watching a movie about gangs in Italy).

I never bring my notebook with me because I'm afraid to leave it behind.
So realizing 30 minutes later that I left my notebook on the seat next to me not only made me furious but made me realize that as of now, I'm a horrible dad. Because let's be real, I've been doing standup for almost 8 years. I have 8 years worth of notebooks. The one being discussed is all my thoughts since April 2008.

Now if I had an 8 year-old son, do you think he'd remember anything I said last year? Do you think he'd remember how my Irish car bomb joke ends? Would he know all the punchlines to my George Washington Carver bit?

The answer is No.
Which proves my point.
My notebook is way more valuable to me than any infantile offspring I might have.
So for that I apologize red joke notebook. I did a horrible thing. I took you for granted. You: the only one out there who knows my thoughts, my frustrations, my McMuffin Belgrande idea. I realize that leaving you there all alone may lead to abandonment issues. It's not the first time I've shown this kind of neglect. I've been irresponsibly drunk. I've been scatter-brained.

And I understand.
I understand that you may leave me for good one day.
And three years down the road when I find you, nestled in the arms of a struggling comic, and I see him make his Comedy Central debut by opening with the line, "I met a Japanese hooker who came to the United States on a bukaki scholarship", I'll know where he got that from.

And I'll weep.
Not out of anger.
But out of my own frustration. For had I been there and never let you out of my sight, that open miker douche would've never gotten a Comedy Central applause break, 10 seconds in.

Please accept my apology.

Why I Drink ...

It's only been a couple of years that I actually started enjoying drinking. Now if you scour through previous blogs, it's easy for one to assume that I perhaps "enjoy" booze "a little too much". But then that would mean that you're being judgmental and assuming that just because I enjoy something as consistently evil as alcohol that I, too, am perhaps consistently evil.

I wrote this blog to counteract such a preposterous assertion
(And to be able to type the word "preposterous". Woohoo! Did it again)

* If someone accuses you of being: a drunk, an alcoholic, a boozehound, a liquor lover, the Duke of Hurl, Sir Pukes-alot, the lost Nolte brother/sister, Beer Bong Buddha, sobriety's yang, Drunkadelic, a "danger to society", a school zone hazard, a liver quiver giver, Tipsy LongStocking, "never there for your kids", a blurred visionary, Steal-A-Tequila, Gutter Butter, a Yak-osaurus, or "in need of an intervention"

(Cut and paste what's written below to defend your lifestyle)

EXHIBIT A: I'm much more enjoyable to be around when I'm drunk.

You know this. All your friends do too. Even some of your co-workers when we went to your company Christmas party and I used some celery sticks as a microphone to sing "Don't Stop Believing". Remember the coat rack guitar solo? Leave it to hotel security to ruin what was a rockin' night for all. If you don't believe me, go to YouTube and look up "ex employee's boyfriend sings acapella karaoke".

I rest my case

EXHIBIT B: I'm pumping in money to our floundering economy.

Not only am I keeping alcohol companies in business. (Has anyone noticed that Bud Light hasn't asked for a bailout?) I make sure bartenders have enough money to maintain their meth habit, which in turn keeps Wal-Mart fully staffed. Drunks are why fast food restaurants stay open 24 hours, have dollar menus (because all you have left at the end of the night is loose change in your car) and the 2 drive-thru menu concept. The one menu that you can actually order at and the one 10 feet before where you sober up and try to practice what you're gonna say at the "real menu"

EXHIBIT C: It makes me an honest man.

When sober, I tend to bite my tongue, hold back. Those secrets? Those feelings I have for you? That hatred I have for others? Sobriety takes those emotions and locks them down in the cellar, Pulp Fiction Gimp-style. You don't want that. You can't be friends/partners/tandem bike buddies when everything is just a facade. Sobriety doesn't want you to see the real me. Sobriety's insecure. He still wants to impress you and make you think that spending time with me is like an episode of "Friends". We throw witty rhetorts at one another, sing along to 80s music on our way to Olive Garden, then cap the night by watching something you ordered off NetFlix, drinking a harmless glass of wine and enjoy suburban bliss.

When drunk, you'll see how I really feel.

Yeah, "witty rhetorts" are cute, but let's be honest: Nobody talks like that. You thought Anchorman was funny. Don't act like you know how to be hipster clever just because you have "Arrested Development" on DVD, but still don't know who Mitch Hedberg is.

Olive Garden? I know their "eggplant parmesan" is just as good as any you'll find in any high-end Italian restaurant but it's OLIVE GARDEN. Let me guess what part of town it's in ..... Ummm, next to an Applebee's, flanked by an On The Border, across from a Marble Slab?

And I do enjoy the concept of NetFlix, but really? Did you really need to see the latest Cusack romantic comedy? Wait, in this one is he ranty, mumbly, and nervous? Do tell.

Oh and I'll take that extra glass of goodnight wine just so I can tell you that another "boardgame night" with your boring friends and their even more boring insignificant others will drive me to murder. Them then you.

One more round of "Cranium" = Two more rounds of shotgun shells.

Now don't you wish you knew this about me before we started hanging out? All the more reason to be drunk at first encounter.

Now shut up, let's drink to that.