Last night I was mistaken for a crazy person. I was standing in front of the hotel waiting for my ride to the show, and I was thinking about a new joke I wanted to try out at that night. So basically I was talking to myself. Not really audible, just sort of under my breath muttering. I thought I was alone, but then I turned around and saw a teenage girl sitting in the passenger seat of a car. As soon as she saw me I heard the click of the automatic door locks as she tried really hard to make eye contact. I scared the crap out of a teenage girl. I was wearing a black suit with a white shirt and black tie too, I must have looked like a schizophrenic Mormon. Then to make it even worse I started laughing. Nothing is scarier then smiling at inappropriate times. George Bush has taught us all that lesson. "We're going to war." (Smile)
I really need to start wearing a blue tooth, so I can pretend I'm having a conversation. When I first started comedy, I was still delivering Mexican Food during the day, so I'd drive around all day working on my material in front of my imaginary audience. For some reason back then I had to hold my fist up to my face, like I was holding a pretend microphone. If you saw me in traffic it probably looked like I was smelling my thumb and talking about it. I also used to use a little cassette recorder at home. I have all these tapes somewhere of me saying not very funny things while I practiced in front of the mirror. It used to drive our cat Rufus crazy for some reason. Most of those tapes he's howling the whole time in background like a feline heckler. Rufus was the dumbest cat. He sat on a lit candle once. He didn't even move either. Kristi and I smelled his burning hair and moved him. He had this perfect little circle burnt into his ass hair. Rufus died, but every year on his birthday I take out a Bic lighter and burn my butt hair in his memory. We have a cat named Don now. He's not dumb, but he is an asshole. Seriously he's a prick. If he was a human he's be that blond guy in Karate Kid. The whole family has scars and scratches thanks to this son of a bitch cat. He serves a purpose though. I get to say and do things to him, that I'm not allowed to say and do to my children. I spend all day trying to be patient with my kids, and as soon as their asleep that cat pays for it. "Oh really you're gonna meow now you shithead! Yeah well guess who gets to spend the night locked in the laundry room!." Have you ever seen that youtube video of that guy yelling at his cat? I bet he has kids too.