I'm backstage at the Orange Peel, which is in Asheville, North Carolina. Showalter is on the stage yelling at the audience as usual. He's literally up there, and the quote that's coming out of his mouth right now is, "You fucking dick! Don't tell me what to do!" He's obviously endearing himself to them. Most of Showalter's act these days consists of the audience yelling at him and him responding. Is it funny? To him, yes.
As for me, I'm probably going to go on in about forty minutes. At that time, I will probably talk about my movie bombing, soft serve ice cream, and Christian rock. I might also get into strangers who don't find me funny and I will probably conclude with an old reliable - "A Series of Letters to the First Girl I Ever Fingered."
Last night we were in Covington, Kentucky, which seems to be an appendage of Cincinnati, Ohio. It looked like a nice place, but the biggest laugh I got of the night was when I said that Covington, Kentucky looked like a nice place. Roars. I guess that goes to show what the locals think of their hometown. I asked why they lived there if they hated it so much. They told me they stayed for the booze. That's a good sign. I had to explain to them that they've got booze in other places, too, a concept they didn't quite believe. Nice people. Good people. Drunk people.