Austin Incidental

Every time I get back from Austin I feel like I'm on the precipice of an untimely and shameful death. I've come to expect it. Neighbor Dave didn't have the same road history so when, after the flight to Tucson and the 90 minute drive home to Bisbee, he still felt like there was an alien partying under his breast-plate, he did what lots of people with health insurance might do and went straight the the ER.

I updated about Neighbor Dave before the road trip HERE.

 

We met Dave and his wife Evelyn several years ago when they lived right next door (they've since bought a house a few blocks away.) Bingo and I were ripped out of our sombreros day-tripping with Tom Rhodes and Jobi when we decided we HAD to have pizza.

Nobody was in any condition to work a cigarette lighter much less drive a car and nobody in town delivers no matter how much we tried to bribe them over the phone. There isn't even a taxi here. It was around dinner time and I decided that the best thing to do would be to walk down to the main road and wave money at passing cars until somebody picked us up. 

It seemed very reasonable in the moment. But as soon as I got outside of the fence, I was in a completely foreign and unsafe world where arrest was as imminent as pizza was necessary. We should definitely not stand on the roadside dressed like idiots flapping cash at traffic.

Just then Dave pulled up in front of his house. We'd never met Dave and Evelyn aside from a nod and a wave when we were both checking the mail at the same time. This neighborhood is more quiet than still-birth with the glowing exception of our house where it wasn't uncommon to have a full slate of comics and other friends hopped up for days without end or a then-bald and poorly medicated Bingo wandering down the street naked talking on a cordless banana. 

We just assumed that neighbors would probably not like us much. I introduced myself nonetheless. 

"Excuse me... I know this might sound weird but um... we're fucked out of our heads on mushrooms right now and we really need a pizza. We'll give you 50 bucks to go to Bisbee Beverage and pick one up for us. Hate to ask but no one here should really be driving."

Dave smiled like the Saturday Evening Post. "Oh, that's alright, you don't have to pay me. That's what neighbors are for!"

Not long after, Dave came back with Evelyn and pizza and we shared beer and stories and have been the best of friends ever since.

Cut to: Neighbor Dave and Stanhope do Texas.

Dave told me he'd love to come on the road sometime when he had vacation just to see what it was like. It just so happened that his time off lined up with my Houston & Austin dates - favorites of mine without question.

Evelyn couldn't get out of work to come - if she had it might have toned down the three-day trip enough to save Dave and excruciating hospital stay and invasive exploratory heart procedures. But hindsight is 20/20 no matter how much of it you blacked out.

Houston went by smoothly enough after a day of airport drinking - my favorite place to drink, expenses be damned and we got to Austin with only a mild hangover in time to do the Alex Jones radio show.

I haven't seen Alex since the infamous night of the "Austin Incident" many years ago, still probably one of my favorite shows ever caught on tape. Alex Jones is just a vague rational thought ahead of David Icke in the world of frenzied, paranoid conspiracies shot at you like a Gatling gun of Armageddon. 

Neighbor Dave is the antithesis of Alex Jones. Dave has no political or religious affiliations, no cares about the government, pro or con, much less an overwhelming fear of a coming police state or FEMA prison camps.

Alex was in full fever pitch when Bingo, Dave and I got to the studio. New World Order secret eugenics plots, insidious government schemes to tamper with inoculations, Obama being a secret construct of Mitzi Shore whose real name is Ned-something and is really German and Honduran... all like a PowerBall hopper of seemingly disconnected conspiracy blasted out in an enema of fear.

Shortly before, Dave had given us a short synopsis of his American Idol prognostications without irony or passion. Having the two of them in the same room was like having Timmy from South Park visit Abu Ghraib.

The Irresistable Madness vs the Immovable Apathy.

I lean on the side of Dave. As much hate as I may have against the powers that be, the more aware I am of my mortality, the more enjoying my day comes before changing the world. 

If MLK had just found a few like minds and fell into the cracks away from these douche-rockets who claim the majority of the planet, he might still be alive and fucking white women.

Some people are actually enjoying their day. Dave is like that. Dave could listen to 1,000 hours of Alex Jones with his eyes held open like Clockwork Orange and still die happy.

He thought he might after three days in Texas.

After Alex Jones, we went to the Yellow Rose for happy hour - two must-see attractions in Austin. Dave was out of money quickly but even a man of his considerable width will not leave the Rose sober if Don King is in the house. DK is an Austin legend and poured shots until we had to beg for a cab.

What DK couldn't do to Neighbor Dave on Friday, the audience made up for on Saturday. They'd even put Neighbor Dave on the poster under "Special Appearance by..." - an appearance he made several times to giant screams of applause.

After the show he was signing titties & t-shirts, taking pictures with folks and generally roaming the roost like a big, round Hugh Hefner of the Average Joe.

I don't think I've ever seen even a comedian have that much fun after a show.

Our flight was early and Bingo and I didn't sleep - staying up with Monkey n Meatsticks and the rest of the gang until it was time to leave. Neighbor Dave slept an hour or two and looked like a hemorrhaging plague on the wake-up call.

Nobody talked much on the way home, on the plane or in the car since we all felt raped and unpleasant. We were only a few miles from town when Dave spoke up quietly that his chest hadn't felt right since he woke up and that it might be safe to stop by the hospital before we went home.

Evelyn took the rest of the day off and stayed with him while they ran tests, decided to send him back to Tucson and keep him overnight for more tests before finally sending him home with a diagnosis of Too Much Fun on a Fat Stomach. 

I know. This update would have been a lot more fun if Neighbor Dave died at the end. Don't think there wasn't a little tiny chunk of me that thought the same thing. He did get an extra week off from work and has made Evelyn crazy listening to the stories from the road.

Evelyn made good use of our time away by completely redecorating our bathroom in a children's theme with cartoon penguin towels, bath mat and shower curtain, sippy-cups, kiddie potty seat and 25 toy boats for the bath tub as well as a good-touch, bad-touch kids book called "It's MY Body!"

I just got back from Montreal where I couldn't walk outside to have a cigarette without someone putting a key under my nose or a pill in my pocket and - fuck yes, it was a great time. This week I'll have Bingo and I will have fun with Evelyn and Neighbor Dave cooking shit in crock pots, walking the dogs and watching Idol to see how Dave's predictions turn out.

It all balances out and we'll all be dead in the end.

Doug Responds to Emails, And A Canadian Tour

Let's start with the emails. That's always fun.

This guy irritated me especially because he's one of those cunts that... well, you've been to my show. He's one of those cunts. I've deleted the unnecessary opening "I first heard you..." type shit to get to his point, which still takes a lifetime.

A lot of your appeal and characterization and persona and whatnot is associated with your drinking habits, with which I also relate. But to be quite frank with you sir, you drink like a pussy. No offense. I've noticed in many of the video performances I've seen that you primarily consume beer. Occasionally if I'm doing yard work, which is very rare as I have no yard, but maybe if I'm with friends that are not as hugely alcoholic as I, then I will enjoy 1 to 4 beers. But when it's time to get down to business, it's straight sour mash... Usually on ice. But I've seen recent performances, or video pieces rather of you with what looks like a screwdriver. Really? You pride yourself as being a hard drinker and somewhere around 40 you upgraded from high school juice to suburban mom juice. I'm not saying this to be mean. Like I tried to state in the beginning, it seems that we are similar rags cut from the same asshole cloth, except you're funnier and probably smarter for making a living out of you vices. I just think that, for your image, as a surly and comedic gentleman, maybe you should drink like one. Also, and this is not a challenge unless you want it to be, I'm pretty sure I can drink you under the table. Choose your weapon, unless that weapon is maddog or nighttrain or some other fucked up sauce, because I just can't go there.
 
Anyway, I didn't mean to sound negative, but you probably will never read this, and I think that's something we'll both appreciate. But to recap and close, I love you but sincerely think you should get some scotch or bourbon or bottom shelf whiskey and enjoy it you pussy.

Sure, it's not hate mail by any stretch but maybe you're not reading the inherent cunt in this guy. This is one of the many "Drink it, pussy!!" yay-hoos that regularly fuck up a punch line because they think a 9 dollar investment in a shot that I don't want, at a time when I don't want it gives them right to override my show in progress.

Any faggot - and I use that word with 6 cocks in my mouth - who thinks being a drunk is an image should be at Mardi Gras, not my show. If you are concerned with the type, flavor or brand of alcohol you - much less anyone else you stare at on Youtube - is drinking as opposed to why you are drinking or what the ramifications are... well then, you are a stooge.

You'd be a guy watching "Intervention" and saying "That hobo is drinking Scope? Why not just drink a grasshopper, you fairy!"

I am guilty of using the word "alcoholic" in the same way I use "god" - the fact that it is so commonplace makes the fact that I don't believe there is such a thing, a moot point. Regardless, you calling yourself an alcoholic is a slap in the gut to any conditioned, long-term drinker like when a white rapper says they're a straight-up gangster. We're cut from the same rag? Yeesh.

And there's a lot of you at my shows. When I get emails from drinkers who are worried about how often they consider suicide or concerned about organs not functioning properly anymore or even if it's normal to never have a solid stool, I know those are people I can drink with.

You fucking puddle-deep turds that say you can drink someone under the table when BEING under the table is the whole point... you guys I'll see at the merch booth.

*Sips Mimosa and hits send*

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Okay, these emails aren't as annoying as they are retarded. And it's a sort of retarded that isn't uncommon in my inbox. The kind of retard that had the snot washed off of it and now just wants to give you a brainless squeeze around the rib cage.

Here's one from Cincy.

So I am sure this message will go un-noticed due to how busy you are but I figured I would at least ask. Almost two years ago my boyfriend and I came to see you on our first day. We celebrate our anniversary on April 11th. I know you will be at the club Go Bananas April 9th and 10th but saw on your page your next stop is in TX on the 16th. So my question is this due to both of my boyfriends and my working the days you will be here and they have no head liner that compares to you on the 11th if I could beg and plead for you to consider staying and extra night and doing another show on the 11th. I was trying to plan the night for us of like our first date which would include you. I realize that you wont most likely be able to but I thought I would ask at least. Our jobs have become very demanding on us lately and we don't see each other as much as we used to so I thought I would at least reach out and see if there was a change that could be made! Thank you for taking the time to read this! I hope to hear from you soon!!

Thank you,
Ashley


No, thank YOU, Ashley. You made me smile all disabled-like, open-mouthed with chicken salad spread across my teeth. You are right, it never hurts to ask. Unless making fun of you hurts, which it shouldn't. Maybe you asked something like this one time and it worked so you keep trying. You told the movie theater that it was the anniversary of your first finger-banging and wondered if they wouldn't mind replacing "Hurt Locker" with "Alien vs Predator" for one showing and - Miraculously - they DID IT! Giving you a false sense of security in asking similar bonehead questions.

What I'm trying to say is Happy Anniversary and thanks for thinking of me on your special day - even if it's not so special that you'd take a night off of work for it.

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This email came in on April Fools Day making me initially suspicious but it's way too soft to be a prank....

contact_comment: (boring stuff deleted)
I found out your doing a show on June 12th at the Highline. I wanna attend, but I had to talk my wife into it. See, I'm arab/italian hardcore athiest from Brooklyn, who enjoys dark comedy such as yours, and she's a Black Baptist from Georgia who's easily offended. How we co-exist is a miracle, but we respect each others beliefs. Anyway, to make a long story short, she saw your Showtime special and thinks your the evil. But she's willing to go with me because it would be the highlight of my year. I wanna ask if you have any ideas on how to make her feel comfortable because she doesn't drink or get high. I was hoping like a lil' shout out before the set. If not, I understand. If you have any suggestions , get back to me.

Jamal


Jamal...

Another great email and I'm glad you took the time. Lets see... what ideas do I have to make her feel more comfortable? Let's brainstorm on this... shoot it around the room. No, it's cool - I spend this much time with each and every audience member to make sure the show goes perfectly.

Wait, I think I got it! Don't bring her! No, seriously... this has
worked in my own relationship on occasion. Like your religious/athiest situation, my girlfriend doesn't like sushi. So if I decide to eat sushi, I don't bring her. Because she doesn't want to go. Because she's is an adult like me and can feed herself. And she'd prefer to eat something she likes rather than get a "shout-out" from the cook while she chokes down shit I know she hates. Sometimes she doesn't want to sit in front of my laptop and pump off to cake-smearing porn. So what I do is not make her sit on the toilet next to me.


I could go on. Todd Barry has the perfect bit about dumb emails you get as a comic that is so good that just breaching the subject feels derivative. So go buy Todd's CD and find a relationship where you can go out alone every now and then.

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Hold On, Canada. I'm Coming!

I've finally responded to your e-mails, texts, phone calls, Facebook posts, screams, carrier pigeons and formal charges. I'M COMING TO CANADA!

From July 17-July 25 I'll be tearing through The Great White North on an extended journey. If you're in Canada, or love visiting Canada, come find me in any or all of the following spots:

July 17
Halifax, NS, Canada
Jokers Comedy

July 18
Winnipeg, MB, Canada
Royal Albert Arms

July 20
Regina, SK, Canada
JD's Nightspot

July 21
Saskatoon, SK, Canada
Roxy's on Broadway

July 22
Edmonton, AB, Canada
New City

July 23
Calgary, AB, Canada
The Distillery

July 25
Vancouver, BC, Canada
The Bourbon

Neighbor Dave Update

Neighbor Dave will be in Houston & Austin. Dave is my neighbor - hence the nickname - and has been one of my best friends in Bisbee since I met him here a few years ago. And although we hang out all the time and watch football religiously when I'm in town, until December 2009, Dave had never been to my show. That's my favorite part of Neighbor Dave. He never really gave a shit what I do. He's just a happy 57 yr old fat guy who runs a route for Frito Lay, has a fantastic wife Evelyn, loves the Colts, always smiles and wouldn't give a shit if you were a celebrity or an emergency room ball-shaver (which I do as a volunteer across the border in-season.)
Like I said - until December when he came to the Hotel Congress gig in Tucson after 15 hours of work and a 110 mile drive. So I made some references to him and our relationship and kinda made him the focal point of the show. You guys - as much as I love to insult, berate and complain about my audience - you came up strong after the show and made Neighbor Dave feel like the coolest guy in the room.

People bought him drinks and took pictures with him. They had him signing my merchandise. I've never seen anyone more happy. Neighbor Dave was beaming like Bob's Big Boy.

A week after he was home, Evelyn said that they were gonna have to widen the door frame to get his head out. To help, she made up a few "Neighbor Dave & Stanhope" t-shirts for us and got him a Neighbor Dave baseball hat.

Neighbor Dave has vacation in April and it turned out to be when I'm in Houston and Austin. I told him he could come along but I warned him that these towns are waaaaaaay more fucked up than Tucson - with all due respect to the Hotel Congress but I never thought my life might end there every single time I came to town.

Keep your eye out for him at the Houston and Austin shows. Here's his picture or - if your memory is as poor as mine - he'll probably be wearing his Neighbor Dave hat. make him feel famous.

Some people have children to remind them of the small joys in life that they themselves have started to get bored with or take for granted. I have Neighbor Dave.

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The London dates at Leicester Square Theater are the only overseas dates this year. Get your tixquick and stay at your gay friends bathhouse.


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The feedback about the bowel-stain swamp-lord Saints fan in Tampa was incredible in that he is just some random shitbag with a lot of money and a ridiculous fan bus from a very small town in Louisiana. By the amount of email I got from people in that town that knew him, you'd have thought he was Rush Limbaugh.

I guess being an awful dick makes you a de facto celebrity - at least for the people who have to suffer through you on a daily basis. Because 99.5 percent of the people agreed with how rotten the guy was, most people said he was far worse of a human being than I even know and one person agreed that the guy was a squat but offered that he had done a few good things after Katrina - bringing it down from 100 to 99.5 percent.

If you haven't read the story, it's HERE.

And if you see Jay in Luling, LA - remember that sometimes buying your own beer is less expensive in the long run of your soul.