Why I love failing.
…also known as “Bombing”, but that would’ve made for an awkward title.
“Bombing” is the worst thing that can happen to most in Stand-up or pretty much at any Social Event that has a large crowd paying attention to what you’ve got to say, it is also the worst thing that can happen during War.
I on the other hand, absolutely love it..
…because I’m a lunatic.
I hate it when it’s done to countries.
…because I’m human.
It reveals a lot more about the audience than one-sided laughter.
I’m laughing, they’re not.
They’re laughing, I’m not.
I prefer the former.
I took inspiration from comedians who said things that made absolutely no sense; Don Rickles, Andy Kaufman, and Norm MacDonald.
Because they were having the last laugh at the audience’s, by not giving them what they expected. It wasn’t mean spirited; it was entertainment.
The audience laughing at a failing comedian, a comedian purposely pretending he’s failed.
Unmasking a nervous train-wreck, yet remaining completely in control of the chaos that ensues.
Much like the Banksy painting that self-destructed at an auction, “It’s just a prank, bro!”
I’ve learnt this skill helps me deal with painful things too, it’s uncomfortably cathartic.
Norm MacDonald, when informed by an audience member that he keeps making jokes about Hitler in the present tense— but he’s dead.
Norm responds, “Oh…I didn’t know he was ill!”
I’ve been cheated on, and it kinda sucks.
But there’s no way on earth I’m letting that moment crush me.
Instead, I want to make the situation as awkward as possible.
Follows a conversation I had with my ex-girlfriend in my early 20s after she cheated on me because I was at work and couldn’t attend a party with her.
The premise is she explains to that she cheated to get my attention and in part was angry at me for refusing to show up to the party, because I had work.
Knowing no sense of logic would bring catharsis to the situation, here what followed.
“Was he good looking? I hope he was, that’d be a downer.”
“…that’s not the point”, nervous ex.
“Oh yeah…sorry. You recon anything will come of it? Did you guys exchange numbers at least?”
“I don’t think…it was just a one-night thing.”, she gasps.
“Let’s stalk him on facebook. What’s his name, oh he’s cute. That’s a solid make-out. Look he’s all buff and looks like his dad has a yacht. I could be friends with that guy.”
“Are you seriously that fucking emotionally dead? I don’t care if he has a yacht!”, she yells out.
“Hey umm…Scott (my room mate) is sleeping, let’s keep it down.”, I whisper.
She doesn’t respond just does that weird thing with her neck which I can’t quite decipher if it’s a nod or a disappointed expression.
I sit and stare too…
…and then suddenly I realise I kinda feel like hamburgers.
“How do you feel about hamburgers? I’m craving them for some reason. Wanna go get some?”
“You want to go get hamburgers? I’m trying to have a conversation here about what happened and you’re thinking of FUCKING HAMBURGERS!”, She explodes and barges out of the houses.
She slammed the door so hard, it woke Scott up.
Poor Scott.
Eventually Scott asked why the door just got slammed, I told him my ex girlfriend just stormed out because I said I like hamburgers.
Scott, being the mate that he is, decides to join me on my hamburger endeavour.
Months would go by and I guess I kinda just forgot about it all, because the relationship was going to end anyways, I knew I was a lousy boyfriend because I didn’t put in the time into our relationship, I had three jobs at the time; so really — in a demented way, I was happy she cheated on me; because I didn’t want to be the one to break her heart. How selfish of me.
Years have gone by and times have changed, she tells me now how our relationship was the best she’s ever been in — sobbing over the phone; since the yacht guy never responded to her and the few boyfriends that followed never really stuck around.
It’s been 5–6 Years since we’ve properly spoken, and yet when she decides to confess all this to me — all I can think of is…
“...man those hamburgers were great!”
