--sent from the cell--
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Hey Hey
All right. So let's not be coy, all right? It's been a while. I wish I had some huge, awesome news to reveal here. Hmm. Well. Not so much. Alive & breathing? Yes, yes. Hasn't been entirely undocumented, yet forward we go, here or otherwise (see Facebook mobile uploads, Twitter).
=
?
I've been busy doing a bunch of standup the last two months, service industrying it fives days a week day (serving, plus bartending on one of those shifts...). Went to Atlanta to visit family. Had some friends visit, too.
How about this one? We did the research, and it turns out there aren't enough podcasts on the internet. Basically, you can listen to some of what I would maybe write right here if I had more time and/or a functional netbook (or iPhone keyboard peripheral? *fingers crossed!*). My roommate, New Orleans' own Trey Monaghan (III!), and I have started a weekly/bi-weekly podcast, Dos Cubanos. It's just us, eating lunch (two Cuban sandwiches) at our favorite diner near our apartment in Ridgewood, Queens. We chew the fat while chewing the fat over the week's events. So yeah, if you've missed the sound of my masculine voice and/or are bored, give Dos Cubanos a listen.
Have been writing more, which has been going well enough. More on that soon--or video of standup, at the very least. Next Taint Comedy Great? tentatively scheduled for Fri, November 20th... Me and Sean's weekly show at Kabin, Comedy as a Second Language, has been killin' it, which is great. New promo video exporting as I type! (edited by yours truly--ie, shitty!) Save a night or two here n' there, my hosting has improved. Besides doing a bunch of booked shows (and open mics) over the last couple months, I've also been guest-hosting a weekly show for my friend, the inspiringly talented Yannis Pappas (he was on tour in the Scandinavian countries), at a beautiful little room in Park Slope--the chilled-out lounge of the classy French bistro, Belleville. Yannis' co-producer, the nuts n' bolts fantastic, Frank "The Banterer" Gallo, has been in there week in and week out, as well, keeping things running smoothly. Out of the five or six I hosted, only a couple were light attendance-wise--overall it ended up being a very positive experience. Big up to Sunny, the bartender, too.
Was getting my last outdoorsy sportishness in before we ran out of good weather here. Despite my busted-up foot, I tried to organize a mid-week weekly game with other comics in Manhattan. My days off have been Wednesday & Thursday, creating a bizarre mid-week Saturday & Sunday situation. So on Wednesdays around 3PM, we've been playing at these courts at First Ave & 16th Street. Stuy-Town, which is basically a 1940's urban renewal, planned neighborhood, has really nice courts... not just nets (a rarity where I usually play in Brooklyn), but glass backboards! Bathrooms?? Er... surely there's a Starbucks somewhere nearby.
A few weeks ago, I was shooting around out there and my ball got stuck in the net, which I thought looked crazy.
Also, I was high.
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?So that happened. I've been enjoying the photo editor on my iPhone, no doubt (though that second pic involved iPhone, Photoshop, mushrooms, & lube). Good times playin' basketball. Have even played a couple times with Tom McCaffrey, who is one of my favorite comics. Despite the fact we're both huge ballers, we've been beaten at 2-on-2 by both a team of Black kids & Asian dudes. To be fair, our game against the black kids was after we had already played like, an exhausting three or four games, plus at least one of the two kids was really athletic... honestly, even the chubby one was hustlin'. And the Asian dudes? Well, they were pretty badass. We were dead-even matched up with them size-wise (Tom is 6'0 maybe?), but they just exploded. Whatchya gonna do?
Have also been enjoying some yoga at Yoga To The People in the East Village. Donation-based, super-chilled out. Less prone to interference from Mother Nature (seriously, it rained three or four bball Wednesdays in a row!), plus much easier on my body (esp my foot).
There are probably some other amazing things going on that I'm sure the general public is just clamoring to read. How about that "Public Option", huh? Wait, what? That's not about sex outdoors? *Yawn*
Oh,
Oh,
So I saw this guy in the Starbucks next to where I work, and there was this transient/homeless guy. Amongst all his bags n' things, including a single cup of coffee he'd been working through slowly, I assume, he had a tiny, white, portable dvd player--half-held together with duct tape-- propped up on the table... watching Aliens. The director's cut of Aliens. At first I was engrossed by the movie, then I realized it was the director's cut, and then I realized I realized it was the director's cut, and then right when the first facehuggers in the vats that Ripley & co run into in the medlab and one lunges at Burke's (Paul Riser's) face is right at the same time I realized the guy didn't have any shoes plus some sort of insane foot infection but I still wanted to sit there and watch the rest of the movie with him anyway, foot infection & table-waiting to be done be damned!
--It was at that moment that I feared that one day, if I wasn't careful, I would be this guy. Perhaps I'm really only six really bad weeks away from being the weird guy on the train who, before pooping his pants, rants about The Corporation's greedy & morally reprehensible attempts at capturing xenomorhps for its biowarfare division. Maybe five-and-a-half weeks, tops. I mean, I knew it was the director's cut, goddamit!
Halloween was crazy. More on that soon, too. Maybe-ish.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
From a rooftop in Brooklyn, er, Queens...
You said something that I've never forgotten.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
a couple new videos...
Some guys I work with at the restaurant asked me to referee a basketball game for them. Actually, Enrique asked me, because he's much smaller than the massive Dio (aka Grande). They're always talking all kinds of noise to each other in the kitchen (and as heated as the occasional uncomfortable yelling match during the rush). The smaller, faster Enrique (Hecho in Mexico) vs Grande (de the Dominican Republic). We recorded some of the pre-game predictions and highlights of the game, which I edited. Here ya go.
Also, I shot a video for HowCast, which is a site with a bunch of how to videos. I appear alongside my friend and fellow comic, Jessie Richardson, shot n' edited by the Arthur Carlson & Kurt Vegas. How To Take a Relationship Break, indeed.
Monday, July 27, 2009
What's up, people?
All right, lets be real... what's up, one person?
Fine: total honesty time... what's up, me?
Pretty cool shit, really. Was in this video with Tom McCaffrey, Carolyn Castiglia & Mara Herron. It's a hip hop video pimpin' a new summer song, Summer Jam. I'm not in it a tremendous lot, but in the dance line at the end I do the worm (not to be confused with the caterpillar), which is pretty sweet.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
anxiety-laden table-waiting dreams
__Recently I've had a few terrible service industry dreams (I can't bring myself to call 'em nightmares). Most servers have 'em, most of 'em are along the lines of "I keep getting sat with more and more tables and by the time I go to even greet the table they're super-pissed off..." And/or there's not enough support staff like bussers/runners/service bartenders, etc, that slow a server down from working at maximum efficiency. Anyway, the dreams are obnoxious and recently I've had two pretty vivid ones featuring the same horrible white lady.
__She wasn't in the first one all that much, but I was having the classic "can't get to all my tables in time" dream, every table needed something and it was impossible to reach everyone at once. I must have been tossing and turning because my girlfriend nudged me. I woke up instantly, sitting up in bed-- she was like, "Are you OK, can I do anything for you?" I thought about it for a few seconds before asking, "Could you please pour water on table 30?"
__This second one happened last night. In my dream I was "guest serving" at a family-run Cajun place (much like the one I go to here in NYC that flies up Louisiana crawfish, Mara's Homemade, but larger). I didn't know the menu, or the seat numbers, where they kept the silverware or any of the bullshit one has to be on point about when waiting tables... but there I was, getting sat, trying to wing it on personality alone. A friendly server can get away with being a dumbass (or saying some truly outrageous shit--I have another post on here somewhere about all that...), but not with every customer. Sure 'nuff, I had this six-top come in, a family, and the mother was that same woman from table 30. Taking her order took nearly ten minutes while I could see more tables getting sat all around me. Not knowing what was and wasn't on the menu required going back and forth to and from their table to the kitchen to talk to the chef for all the special, off-menu orders, modifications, etc. Chefs love it when you change their menu, too, in case you were wondering. So that was a major hassle... and then their food arrived all wrong, just a disaster. To her credit, this woman didn't send anything back, she decided to eat the food that had arrived with a passive aggressive frown, but not before saying she needed some super-specific kind of sauce and mashed potatoes (me: "We have mashed potatoes?"). Infuriated, I said something like, "Ma'am, I'm going to get what you need to enjoy your meal, but you have to understand you're being quite difficult, with all the special orders, the sauce, everything..." Her eyes started to glow bright white with unbridled anger, but I was already walking away towards the kitchen.
__Miraculously I managed to wake up right then, 9:30am. Instead of going back to sleep, I figured the most passive aggressive thing I could do was stay awake so this lady would never get her sauce & mashed potatoes, thus be unable to eat her food. So, HA! I WIN! All morning it felt like I quit a job in mid-shift, like this c-u-n-t is somewhere soooo pissed off, yelling at some poor manager like, "He was rude to me and then walked away and never came back!" Suck it, lady, suck it.
__It's true, though, that--in my experience--white women are the most likely to request some kind of special bullshit. Saturday n' Sunday brunch: filled with self-important white women. Is there a competition to modify menu items? Here's a brunch order I took from this white-woman circa fall of '08 (and then I'll end this godforsaken post):
__"Hmm, I don't see anything like this on the menu, but could you make a special omelette for me? Within reason, huh? Hmm, ok... I want a cheese, spinach, mushroom, tomato, onion omelette--but I want the onions diced and then sauteed... what type of mushrooms are those? Oh, that won't do--you don't have portabello mushrooms? Alright, alright, forget the mushrooms. Shitaake? Hmm. Asparagus, too, but on the side. Cheddar cheese, please. No cheddar? Only gruyere? I see goat cheese on the menu, I can't have that? For how much extra? Hmm... Really, no cheddar... American? Ok, I'll take the gruyere. How many eggs are in that omelette? Three? I want one more, but not a whole one, like another extra half-egg. I don't want it runny, but I don't want it cooked well-done, either. That comes with toast? No? I have to order a side? Hmm... well what does it come with? A crisp potato patty? What is that? What kind of oil do they use to cook that? Could they cook it in a different oil for me? Well then I'll just have fruit instead. I can only substitue a salad, not fruit? Ok, well then I'll have a salad instead... what type of dressings do you have? Only a balsalmic? I'll have that, but on the side. Can we please get some bread for the table? Right now I'm looking at other tables with bread--oh you bring out the bread when we're done ordering, I see. Mmm--croissant! What, the croissant is extra? Fine, I'll just have the complimentary baguette, but with strawberry jam. Only raspberry? Whatever, fine. Can I do an order of half-bacon, half-sausage? Ungh, ok--bacon then, extra crispy. I should probably eat some fruit, too... do you have a fruit salad? Ok, I'll have that, but no melon if there's melon, definitely no melon. Actually, just strawberries and blueberries, if you can, but more strawberries than blueberries. Oh, don't go, I'm not done--you do eggwhites, right? I want two of the three and a half eggs to be eggwhites and I'd like that omelette scrambled. Plus we're in a hurry and could we get that bread now?"
__Of course, I was insanely busy (and top of it until her order) so it was a hassle, and the last thing a busy kitchen wants to see is an order that looks like this:
TABLE 43 Server: CHESLEY
HAM/CHEESE OMELETTE
***NO
***HAM
***$SPIN
***$ONION
***$TOMATO
***$1 EGG
***NO
***RUNNY
***SCRAMBLED
***WHITES ONLY
***SEE SERVER
***NO POTATO
***SUB SALAD
***S.O.S.
***ONSIDE:
***$ASPARAGUS
***SEAT 2
FRUIT SALAD
***SEE SERVER
***SEAT 2
BACON
***EXTRA
***WELL DONE
***SEAT 2
I was so pissed off after taking that order that I almost broke up with my girlfriend for being a white woman.
Rant: officially over!
__She wasn't in the first one all that much, but I was having the classic "can't get to all my tables in time" dream, every table needed something and it was impossible to reach everyone at once. I must have been tossing and turning because my girlfriend nudged me. I woke up instantly, sitting up in bed-- she was like, "Are you OK, can I do anything for you?" I thought about it for a few seconds before asking, "Could you please pour water on table 30?"
__This second one happened last night. In my dream I was "guest serving" at a family-run Cajun place (much like the one I go to here in NYC that flies up Louisiana crawfish, Mara's Homemade, but larger). I didn't know the menu, or the seat numbers, where they kept the silverware or any of the bullshit one has to be on point about when waiting tables... but there I was, getting sat, trying to wing it on personality alone. A friendly server can get away with being a dumbass (or saying some truly outrageous shit--I have another post on here somewhere about all that...), but not with every customer. Sure 'nuff, I had this six-top come in, a family, and the mother was that same woman from table 30. Taking her order took nearly ten minutes while I could see more tables getting sat all around me. Not knowing what was and wasn't on the menu required going back and forth to and from their table to the kitchen to talk to the chef for all the special, off-menu orders, modifications, etc. Chefs love it when you change their menu, too, in case you were wondering. So that was a major hassle... and then their food arrived all wrong, just a disaster. To her credit, this woman didn't send anything back, she decided to eat the food that had arrived with a passive aggressive frown, but not before saying she needed some super-specific kind of sauce and mashed potatoes (me: "We have mashed potatoes?"). Infuriated, I said something like, "Ma'am, I'm going to get what you need to enjoy your meal, but you have to understand you're being quite difficult, with all the special orders, the sauce, everything..." Her eyes started to glow bright white with unbridled anger, but I was already walking away towards the kitchen.
__Miraculously I managed to wake up right then, 9:30am. Instead of going back to sleep, I figured the most passive aggressive thing I could do was stay awake so this lady would never get her sauce & mashed potatoes, thus be unable to eat her food. So, HA! I WIN! All morning it felt like I quit a job in mid-shift, like this c-u-n-t is somewhere soooo pissed off, yelling at some poor manager like, "He was rude to me and then walked away and never came back!" Suck it, lady, suck it.
__It's true, though, that--in my experience--white women are the most likely to request some kind of special bullshit. Saturday n' Sunday brunch: filled with self-important white women. Is there a competition to modify menu items? Here's a brunch order I took from this white-woman circa fall of '08 (and then I'll end this godforsaken post):
__"Hmm, I don't see anything like this on the menu, but could you make a special omelette for me? Within reason, huh? Hmm, ok... I want a cheese, spinach, mushroom, tomato, onion omelette--but I want the onions diced and then sauteed... what type of mushrooms are those? Oh, that won't do--you don't have portabello mushrooms? Alright, alright, forget the mushrooms. Shitaake? Hmm. Asparagus, too, but on the side. Cheddar cheese, please. No cheddar? Only gruyere? I see goat cheese on the menu, I can't have that? For how much extra? Hmm... Really, no cheddar... American? Ok, I'll take the gruyere. How many eggs are in that omelette? Three? I want one more, but not a whole one, like another extra half-egg. I don't want it runny, but I don't want it cooked well-done, either. That comes with toast? No? I have to order a side? Hmm... well what does it come with? A crisp potato patty? What is that? What kind of oil do they use to cook that? Could they cook it in a different oil for me? Well then I'll just have fruit instead. I can only substitue a salad, not fruit? Ok, well then I'll have a salad instead... what type of dressings do you have? Only a balsalmic? I'll have that, but on the side. Can we please get some bread for the table? Right now I'm looking at other tables with bread--oh you bring out the bread when we're done ordering, I see. Mmm--croissant! What, the croissant is extra? Fine, I'll just have the complimentary baguette, but with strawberry jam. Only raspberry? Whatever, fine. Can I do an order of half-bacon, half-sausage? Ungh, ok--bacon then, extra crispy. I should probably eat some fruit, too... do you have a fruit salad? Ok, I'll have that, but no melon if there's melon, definitely no melon. Actually, just strawberries and blueberries, if you can, but more strawberries than blueberries. Oh, don't go, I'm not done--you do eggwhites, right? I want two of the three and a half eggs to be eggwhites and I'd like that omelette scrambled. Plus we're in a hurry and could we get that bread now?"
__Of course, I was insanely busy (and top of it until her order) so it was a hassle, and the last thing a busy kitchen wants to see is an order that looks like this:
TABLE 43 Server: CHESLEY
HAM/CHEESE OMELETTE
***NO
***HAM
***$SPIN
***$ONION
***$TOMATO
***$1 EGG
***NO
***RUNNY
***SCRAMBLED
***WHITES ONLY
***SEE SERVER
***NO POTATO
***SUB SALAD
***S.O.S.
***ONSIDE:
***$ASPARAGUS
***SEAT 2
FRUIT SALAD
***SEE SERVER
***SEAT 2
BACON
***EXTRA
***WELL DONE
***SEAT 2
I was so pissed off after taking that order that I almost broke up with my girlfriend for being a white woman.
Rant: officially over!
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Four Years In NYC, a Semi-Retrospective
The incense is burning, I'm big sippin' on a nice, full-bodied Italian red (Barbera D'Alba...DOC), my busted-up foot is icing down and I still have a tiny-bit of some Dad-shwag left over from the most recent BR trip (could roll a joint of nuthin' but stems n' seeds, no shit).
Altered enough to post? Oh yeah.
Am I satisfied with all that I've accomplished in the last four years? Somewhat. I've met a tremendous lot of amazing people, comedians and civilians alike. I've been fortunate enough to meet (and occasionally share the stage with) some of my comedic heroes. I host, along with Sean Patton--one of comedy's finest, period-- one of the best downtown comedy shows in New York... I'm really proud of CSL. The blood sweat & tears of production pay off (most of the time) every Thurs, so that's pretty sweet.
I do many more booked shows than I did even a year ago--and my kill-ratio is much higher--so I feel like things things are at least moving in the right direction. If only I had the time & energy to write enough jokes to grind out at the open mics... (see physical exhaustion below)... Working on a decent video to send out for festival submissions. Apparently my comedy is much like it was back in BR/New Orleans '03-'05: my forte is still blue humor and personal stand-up tragedy, just with less politics/religion, more sex/drugs... I should dedicate time to writing something more universally palatable if I ever plan to get on... Live at Gotham! or fuckin' whatever. Any one of the late night shows. Any late night show. Cable access: technically "shows" "late" at "night"...must investigate...
I've waited a shit tonne of tables, that's for sure. Via some string-pulling I was able to land a job in the trendy/busy Meat Packing District my first week in the city. Partied hard, enjoyed what the city had to offer (sex/drugs/rock n' roll/sex/drugs/sex/sex/drugs/etc). Was still writing essays but wasn't doing much stand-up... had enough patient friends to do a bringer here n' there. After about two years I quit to day-job it out, but elected to maintain the server-status, not sure why I didn't try to go back to the temp-world--oh, right I rember--the office will suck out your soul. Waiting tables makes one feel like a dirty whore (I still oftentimes list my occupation as "Laughsman McFoodwhore"). At least one can sneak his/her own work on the side in an office--within reason--but there's certainly no rewriting bits while filling up glasses of water, reciting the specials, n' fetching pints of Stella all day. Also, it's physically exhausting to make the amount of money it takes to exist in New York, particularly as a comic--late shows in bar$ almost every night (and to make enough to keep Visa off my ass, too). Tendencies leaning towards alcoholism don't help reign the budget in either, my friend(s).
I believe that, at some point, there was a goal to wait less tables and attempt the hellish world of commercial acting...? something about needing new headshots? Oh, right-- I need new head shots. (extra points to anyone who's seen my embarassing ones from when I had long hair! 2x points to anyone who actually owns one! ha! *sobs*). Anyway, the service industry blows, especially when the economy is collapsing...
On a brighter note: my living situation is sssweet. I finally finally finally live with friends... seriously, like, five of 'em--four of which are in a band together--Vintage Villain. One of 'em, Tim (more family than most of my blood-related family) was even a roommate from back in the BR. Additionally awesome, we live in a beautiful apartment--it's farther out from all the action than I'd prefer but I have space for all my rat-packin' bullshit I just can't bear to throw away. Ticket stubs from '01 & '06? Really? (see way below)
After years of staying off the Digital Crack (with few exceptions--surely I've posted about the PSP debacle a few years back?), being good and only playing games socially at friends' places, a couple of weeks ago one of my roomies went out and bought a Wii... let the good times roll. Thankfully the Wii is a piece of shit only worth playing socially; I don't have to worry about nine-hour Street Fighter IV sessions or two-day Halo 3/Call of Duty fragfests... Although, after I finish this post, I might download some online version of Bomberman... hmm. And before I speak too soon, my rolled-up change might end up parlayed into Super Mario Galaxy. Perhaps I'll yet relapse.
This post is already too long, but I'll keep going. Anyone who's read up to this point ought to be on board anyway-ish (either you're reading because you love me or are curious as to how fucked up this is gonna get).
Was thinking I'd have done more comedic shorts up 'til now, like, online funny videos. I have primitive video-editing skills, so there's no reason why I couldn't post some more shit, but, again, time & energy. I'm all about contributing to any project as best I can, but my production time is fully-consumed by CSL......... I have plenty o' friends making short videos all the time but I don't get the hollah too too often, or ever. Maybe because I say "hollah."
Full-on comedic acting, however, hasn't gone as poorly. I was in a feature-length ZomCom (zombie comedy) film, though I'm personally claiming it's more of a ComZom, because it's more focused on the funny than on insane zomberiffic gore (though there's definitely some of that, too). The Eaters. June 26 release-- has already been accepted to a festival in Long Island in July, we'll see where it goes from there (only gonna get better approaching Halloween). Shooting it was, hands down, the most fun I've had since moving up here, nooo doubt.
Been to Vegas twice, a city I'd never visited before moving to New York. My first time: Porn Convention. Awards ceremony? Nope. Expo hall? Yep. Knee-deep in dildos, where I feel most comfortable, I suppose. Great times, though. The second time, Valentines Day weekend '09, was there for three nights of Puscifer--I definitely posted about this trip (sacriligeous/vagina-centric sketch comedy + industrial/lounge/rock = Mr.Show meets an electronic version of a sarcastic/dark & funny Cure???). Wow. I feel as though I've truly been welcomed into the family, though the peripheral it may be, and it means more to mean than I can express here with mere words. And the vino they're makin' in AZ makes the 2007 D'Alba I'm 3/5 of the way into look silly.
Not to lose my status as one of the "Great Serial Monogamists of the Early Twenty-First Century," for the last two years (this Monday, actually) I've been dating a lovely young lady. She's been 100% understanding and supportive of my constant case of artists' starvation, pushing the physical limits of hearing same/similar bits over and over and over.... She's a scientist working in the non-profit sector, helping injured dancers get healthcare, so we're broke together, which is nice.
So 5/20 is almost over--
--5/20, 2001 is the first time I ever came to New York, flying up for a Tool concert on their mini-tour, five days after Lateralus was released (and was #1 all over the world) in a tiny venue (Hammerstein Ballroom)-- DAVID CROSS & BRIAN POSEHN introduced them with a ridiculous sketch. I stayed with Victor, an artist I'd met in BR but knew more through mutual friends (as I was coming into my own there after he'd already moved to NYC). His place was in a yet-to-be-gentrified (ie terrifying) Greenpoint, Brookyln. I traded three sugarcubes doused in liquid LSD for a space to sleep on his floor.
--5/20, 2006 is also the date when I saw Tool at the itty-bitty theater here in NYC, City Center, five days after 10,000 Days was released (#1 in U.S. and other English-speaking countries, #1 on some Euro-rock charts... like it fuckin' matters).
So yeah, technically I may have moved to NYC earlier in May than the 20th, but the 20th is when I'll celebrate. This post is too long, it's five after midnight. 5/21. Here's to the next four years.
Love,
Chesley
Altered enough to post? Oh yeah.
Am I satisfied with all that I've accomplished in the last four years? Somewhat. I've met a tremendous lot of amazing people, comedians and civilians alike. I've been fortunate enough to meet (and occasionally share the stage with) some of my comedic heroes. I host, along with Sean Patton--one of comedy's finest, period-- one of the best downtown comedy shows in New York... I'm really proud of CSL. The blood sweat & tears of production pay off (most of the time) every Thurs, so that's pretty sweet.
I do many more booked shows than I did even a year ago--and my kill-ratio is much higher--so I feel like things things are at least moving in the right direction. If only I had the time & energy to write enough jokes to grind out at the open mics... (see physical exhaustion below)... Working on a decent video to send out for festival submissions. Apparently my comedy is much like it was back in BR/New Orleans '03-'05: my forte is still blue humor and personal stand-up tragedy, just with less politics/religion, more sex/drugs... I should dedicate time to writing something more universally palatable if I ever plan to get on... Live at Gotham! or fuckin' whatever. Any one of the late night shows. Any late night show. Cable access: technically "shows" "late" at "night"...must investigate...
I've waited a shit tonne of tables, that's for sure. Via some string-pulling I was able to land a job in the trendy/busy Meat Packing District my first week in the city. Partied hard, enjoyed what the city had to offer (sex/drugs/rock n' roll/sex/drugs/sex/sex/drugs/etc). Was still writing essays but wasn't doing much stand-up... had enough patient friends to do a bringer here n' there. After about two years I quit to day-job it out, but elected to maintain the server-status, not sure why I didn't try to go back to the temp-world--oh, right I rember--the office will suck out your soul. Waiting tables makes one feel like a dirty whore (I still oftentimes list my occupation as "Laughsman McFoodwhore"). At least one can sneak his/her own work on the side in an office--within reason--but there's certainly no rewriting bits while filling up glasses of water, reciting the specials, n' fetching pints of Stella all day. Also, it's physically exhausting to make the amount of money it takes to exist in New York, particularly as a comic--late shows in bar$ almost every night (and to make enough to keep Visa off my ass, too). Tendencies leaning towards alcoholism don't help reign the budget in either, my friend(s).
I believe that, at some point, there was a goal to wait less tables and attempt the hellish world of commercial acting...? something about needing new headshots? Oh, right-- I need new head shots. (extra points to anyone who's seen my embarassing ones from when I had long hair! 2x points to anyone who actually owns one! ha! *sobs*). Anyway, the service industry blows, especially when the economy is collapsing...
On a brighter note: my living situation is sssweet. I finally finally finally live with friends... seriously, like, five of 'em--four of which are in a band together--Vintage Villain. One of 'em, Tim (more family than most of my blood-related family) was even a roommate from back in the BR. Additionally awesome, we live in a beautiful apartment--it's farther out from all the action than I'd prefer but I have space for all my rat-packin' bullshit I just can't bear to throw away. Ticket stubs from '01 & '06? Really? (see way below)
After years of staying off the Digital Crack (with few exceptions--surely I've posted about the PSP debacle a few years back?), being good and only playing games socially at friends' places, a couple of weeks ago one of my roomies went out and bought a Wii... let the good times roll. Thankfully the Wii is a piece of shit only worth playing socially; I don't have to worry about nine-hour Street Fighter IV sessions or two-day Halo 3/Call of Duty fragfests... Although, after I finish this post, I might download some online version of Bomberman... hmm. And before I speak too soon, my rolled-up change might end up parlayed into Super Mario Galaxy. Perhaps I'll yet relapse.
This post is already too long, but I'll keep going. Anyone who's read up to this point ought to be on board anyway-ish (either you're reading because you love me or are curious as to how fucked up this is gonna get).
Was thinking I'd have done more comedic shorts up 'til now, like, online funny videos. I have primitive video-editing skills, so there's no reason why I couldn't post some more shit, but, again, time & energy. I'm all about contributing to any project as best I can, but my production time is fully-consumed by CSL......... I have plenty o' friends making short videos all the time but I don't get the hollah too too often, or ever. Maybe because I say "hollah."
Full-on comedic acting, however, hasn't gone as poorly. I was in a feature-length ZomCom (zombie comedy) film, though I'm personally claiming it's more of a ComZom, because it's more focused on the funny than on insane zomberiffic gore (though there's definitely some of that, too). The Eaters. June 26 release-- has already been accepted to a festival in Long Island in July, we'll see where it goes from there (only gonna get better approaching Halloween). Shooting it was, hands down, the most fun I've had since moving up here, nooo doubt.
Been to Vegas twice, a city I'd never visited before moving to New York. My first time: Porn Convention. Awards ceremony? Nope. Expo hall? Yep. Knee-deep in dildos, where I feel most comfortable, I suppose. Great times, though. The second time, Valentines Day weekend '09, was there for three nights of Puscifer--I definitely posted about this trip (sacriligeous/vagina-centric sketch comedy + industrial/lounge/rock = Mr.Show meets an electronic version of a sarcastic/dark & funny Cure???). Wow. I feel as though I've truly been welcomed into the family, though the peripheral it may be, and it means more to mean than I can express here with mere words. And the vino they're makin' in AZ makes the 2007 D'Alba I'm 3/5 of the way into look silly.
Not to lose my status as one of the "Great Serial Monogamists of the Early Twenty-First Century," for the last two years (this Monday, actually) I've been dating a lovely young lady. She's been 100% understanding and supportive of my constant case of artists' starvation, pushing the physical limits of hearing same/similar bits over and over and over.... She's a scientist working in the non-profit sector, helping injured dancers get healthcare, so we're broke together, which is nice.
So 5/20 is almost over--
--5/20, 2001 is the first time I ever came to New York, flying up for a Tool concert on their mini-tour, five days after Lateralus was released (and was #1 all over the world) in a tiny venue (Hammerstein Ballroom)-- DAVID CROSS & BRIAN POSEHN introduced them with a ridiculous sketch. I stayed with Victor, an artist I'd met in BR but knew more through mutual friends (as I was coming into my own there after he'd already moved to NYC). His place was in a yet-to-be-gentrified (ie terrifying) Greenpoint, Brookyln. I traded three sugarcubes doused in liquid LSD for a space to sleep on his floor.
--5/20, 2006 is also the date when I saw Tool at the itty-bitty theater here in NYC, City Center, five days after 10,000 Days was released (#1 in U.S. and other English-speaking countries, #1 on some Euro-rock charts... like it fuckin' matters).
So yeah, technically I may have moved to NYC earlier in May than the 20th, but the 20th is when I'll celebrate. This post is too long, it's five after midnight. 5/21. Here's to the next four years.
Love,
Chesley
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