30 Days of Rust

Comedy is like riding a bicycle. After you lost your license to a DUI and have no other mode of transportation. And you live 14 miles from work. In the Appalachians. With gout and a prosthetic lung and a fat girl is riding in the basket and she won't stop ringing the bell. Etc, etc. That's how it felt doing comedy after a month off. No CNN to fuel my hate and the internet porn kink of "cock-fingering" isn't popular enough to get laughs.

15 years in this business and every time your head goes dry you will swear it's the end. I'll never be funny again. 1,000 times you go through it but every time seems like the 'one'.

CNN fueling the hate

Sometimes it seems like you're just re-writing the same shit over and over, change a name and a place and add a new bodily fluid or sexual act and call it the new stuff. You bring it out and sell it with the confidence of a man trading puke for new shoes and go home knowing that this time you really have lost it.

I'm a fraud, I'm a loser and every word that drops from my tongue is dogshit. 1,000 times it's happened and every time you find that joke, that moment or topic or simple phrase and all of a sudden you can't get out of a notebook. Everything is gold and you are so excited just to say it out loud that you even book Dayton. It's coming. I'm sure of it. It better because I already booked Dayton in anticipation.

"Charlatan!!!"

~ stanhope