Comedy

In the early 2000s, there were several shows on MTV that shaped my weird sense of humor. Andy Milonakis and Tom Green are the first that come to mind.

Here’s the thing:

Neither of them are what I’d call comedy legends. They had their moments of fame, and now they’re floating around with the other ghosts of the forgotten.

But here’s why I respect them so much:

They just didn’t give a fuck. They had creative control over their shows (I assume) and told everyone else to fuck off. “It’s funny to me. Screw everyone else.”

I truly admire that - and I’ve adopted it as part of my awkward charm.

The truth is, I always wanted to do stand-up, be an actor, and work on sketch comedy. I just…never did.

When I first started using TikTok, it was only for comedy. I ended up deleting those videos and leaning more into my writing. I also made a few TikToks about social awareness that people didn’t care for. Actually, they hated them. It was like being the opposite of an SJW, calling people out on their bullshit. It’s not worth it. People got big-time mad.

That’s part of why I wrote Random and Coffee or Whiskey. I wanted to test the waters of self-publishing with something that wouldn’t destroy me if people rejected it. Both books received horrible reviews, even from close friends and family.

But it’s funny to me.

I don’t really care. I had the time of my life writing them.

There probably won’t be sequels, although I’ve thought about it. It’s just not worth the effort, and it distracts me from my main projects.

Charles Bukowski has a famous poem called Bluebird, about suppressed desires. Comedy is my bluebird. “He’s singing a little in there. I haven’t quite let him die…”

I still don’t have the balls to do stand-up, but I’m somewhat satisfied slipping comedy into my novels.

“Why don’t you crawl back into the dumpster where you found those clothes.”

God, I laughed so hard when I wrote that line. It’s in Apocalypse Manifesto. The character says it to his superior at the worst possible time. Hopefully people laughed as hard as I did, and if not, fuck ‘em.

The current book I’m writing is loaded with comedy. I have to balance the macabre, gruesome nature of the character with something. Comedy acts as a palate cleanser; it makes it all more digestible. You’ll see.

There’s something I’ve noticed about myself: I tend to write more comedy when I’m not doing good. I wrote both Random and Coffee or Whiskey after I got laid off and spent three months depressed on unemployment. I even wrote a cookbook I never published, but I seriously doubt anyone cares about that.

My partner at the time got upset with me for obsessively writing. I’m talking 12 hours a day with no days off. Obsessive.

“Dude, just take a day off and have a beer. Put your computer down and go do something outside.”

“No.”

And I didn’t. When I’m avoiding something, hurting, or need to escape - I write. And if I’m hurting bad enough, I write comedy. My best guess is…I think I can’t be sad if I’m laughing. Right? I don’t know.

Shit.

What else am I supposed to say here? I was always the class clown growing up. Even at work I’m constantly distracting people with dumb shit only I find funny. And somehow, I manage to do this while being the most serious-looking guy in the room.

I’m certain people don’t know what to make of me. I’m either the silliest goose in the pond or a silent, stoic statue who refuses to involve himself in any shenanigans.

It probably depends on my mood and energy levels. Or maybe I’m bipolar. idfk. As long as I’m authentic and comfortable with the man staring back at me in the mirror, I don’t care what anyone thinks.