If you have any interest in seeing me perform live this weekend, get your ass on a plane and come to Caroline’s Comedy Club in New York. Here’s what I can promise: I will be there, I will be telling jokes, alcoholic drinks will be served, at some point during the weekend I will give an audience member cash money, and I will introduce a brand new joke about the country of Ghana. Furthermore, I can pretty much guarantee that I will be the only comedian in America making a joke about Ghana this weekend. So if your taste in comedy runs towards jokes about small West African nations, this is the show for you.
For those of you wondering how The State reunion went in San Francisco last weekend, I can pretty much sum it up in two words: good. I realize that “good” is only one word, but that’s because I was playing a mental game of “Name That Tune” with myself while typing that last sentence, and so I decided to see if I could do myself one better than the aforementioned “two word” summation. Turns out I could.
It was great getting together with The State for a weekend of eleven-way-restaurant-check-splitting, awkward group photos, and dick jokes. We did two performances of our new hour of comedy, concluding each performance with an acoustic encore of “Porcupine Racetrack.” The audiences were very kind – not so much because of their abundant laughter, but because before the show they helped an old lady across the street.
Janeane Garofalo did a fantastic job moderating a discussion between the eleven of us the day after our shows. We talked about all manner of things State, including our break-up and Kevin’s fire engine red pubic bush. That night, Stella hosted a night of comedy featuring State member Thomas Lennon, Eugene Merman, Tig Notaro, Seth Herzog, Nick Kroll, and Janeane, plus a special appearance by Michael Showalter’s musical duo, The Doilies. There was also a midnight screening of “Wet Hot American Summer,” with many cast members on hand to field random catcalls and incoherent drunk slurrings. Which is always a pleasure when you are jet lagged and wanting nothing more than to curl up in bed with a warm Ambien.
Now I’m home in Connecticut working with Michael Showalter on the project that I blogged about before but which I was then told not to mention again because it hasn’t been made public yet, but which has its own myspace page, and which may or may not be on a prominent comedy network sometime this summer.
And I read this somewhat awful thing about myself on the web. If you don’t want to bother reading it, a guy describes a girl reading a book on the subway; the basic gist is that he would have considered her to be attractive were it not for the fact that she was reading my book. My only consolation is that I think I am the only person who read this guy’s blog. If that besmirched girl is out there, please contact me. I want to assure you that you're beautiful not in spite of your literary choices, but because of them.