Dane Fucking Cook!

(Original Post: April 14, 2006 - Friday)

The weekend has arrived! I am driving with two friends to Boston tomorrow to see DANE! He is filming his HBO comedy special and I'm going to be there. We bought these tickets three months ago and the day has finally arrived.
I am of course going to the mall today to buy a new shirt. Why? It's not like Dane is going to see me in this new shirt, and go ... wow! Did you see that girl in the 68th row? That must have been a new shirt because she just totally caught my eye and I could barely continue my act. He will of course manage to get through it, but not without subliminally sending me a message with his eyes that says, "nice shirt. Is there a coat that goes with it? Cause I'd like to shit on it."
I also got my nails done, and my toes. I got my hair done a week ago. My toes are blue, my nails are pink, and my hair is red. I'm thinking about wearing green and just looking like a poster child for the Irish. Needless to say I'm a plethora of colors. And speaking of things that are needless to say, why the hell do we say them? Life is a mystery.
I'm reading this book about how to be a stand up comedian. It says that you should begin your act with a total obvious observation. Like, if you have a big nose, you should come out and say. People call me gonzo. I can't figure out why. Or if you have crazy hair, just come out and say, Needless to say, I hate my hair. Or something to that effect. So one of the exercises is to write out very obvious things about yourself that you can point out on stage. Something the audience can see for themselves right away. I'm single. That may work.
*That reminds me of a joke real quick. A woman is in the checkout line buying a carton of eggs, milk, a loaf of bread and yogurt. The man behind her says, you must be single. The woman replies, yes, how did you know? He says, because you're fucking ugly. (it gets funnier every time.)
Now back to the obvious observations. I could say, I know you are wondering if they are real. No, they are fake. But I paid good money for them and I can polish them a different color every day if I want. (They would be thinking I was talking about my chest, which would be a little funny seeing as though that is probably the last thing someone would notice about me.) Ok, if I have to explain it in a blog it probably isn't that funny.
Regardless, I'm enjoying the book. It is putting me in touch with things that I hate. Like seafood and cheese. And putting me in touch with things I worry about, like dying in a dream. And things I've been taught to be afraid of, like all the articles of the UCMJ.
I guess what I'm trying to say is comedy is therapy. And this is the fourth time in the past year and a half that I've gone to see Dane. He is the only cure for my subscriptions.