I was one of three guests of host Sandra Risser, a very experienced and world-traveled comic. The other two were Alex M., a performance artist poet, and Alex White another comic. I may get into more details later, but here's the bit.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
3/20 Variety Radio
I did a 2-hour podcast on 3/20. Enormous fun. I'll attach only the 5-minute bit I performed live, but it was all fun.
I was one of three guests of host Sandra Risser, a very experienced and world-traveled comic. The other two were Alex M., a performance artist poet, and Alex White another comic. I may get into more details later, but here's the bit.
I was one of three guests of host Sandra Risser, a very experienced and world-traveled comic. The other two were Alex M., a performance artist poet, and Alex White another comic. I may get into more details later, but here's the bit.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Good set tonight
I gave a good performance tonight. I didn't win this round of the competition, but I pleased with the job I did. Here's the script. Nearly everything worked. They didn't like the Santorumpty Dumpty pun (my favorite new bit!) but they loved "hippocrit," which I thought was weaker. Oh well.
One more time for Brendan Lynch.
Thank you for coming out to support live comedy. We know you could be home watching TV [p] or Internet porn [p]. [That's what I'd be doing.]
My name is Rich Orwell and I'm old. This is not a disguise.
How old ? I don't try to pick up women any more. When *I* get lucky, I find the car.
A brain illness is killing my memory. If you have elderly parents or grandparents... Now I say, "Don't worry, be funny," with *Notes.* By applause, are we ready to laugh? Let's do it.
Can you believe these gas prices? To get here tonight I had to go on craigslist and sell a kidney. OK, my wife's.
Once in a great while [p] I can remember having sex. The nicest woman I ever dated was a school teacher. She never complained about "premature ejaculation." She called it "an Incomplete."
I changed some AA batteries today. One faces one way. The other faces the other way. They're right up against each other. By applause, who knows that position?
Here's a tough one. A married man's lover is his "mistress." What's a married *woman's* lover called? I asked around. A man has a mistress. A *woman* has [p] an "orgasm." As in, "This is my orgasm, Roberto."
Disneyland's having trouble with the first ride in its new area, Vaginaland. The men say they have to wait too long for it and the women say the ride's over too quick.
I gotta do this.
Yesterday was Stupid Tuesday. Yawn.
Mitt. Newt. Who was the other one, Shrek? And that nursery rhyme character, Santorum[p]pty-Dumpty. After a rough spring and summer, if *that* son-of-a-bitch gets elected, Santorumpty Dumpty had a great fall.
The symbol for the Republican Party shouldn't be the elephant or the rhino. It should be that *other* pachyderm, the hippo- hippo-what's the word? hippocrit.
I've been married 30 years, but now *I've* got a mistress. Very sexy. She has a 'tramp stamp.' I bet you've seen those. A lower back tattoo just above the butt crack. You know, they can be anything. Words, artwork. My gf's tramp stamp says, 'Do not over inflate.' Did I mention she's an *inflatable* girlfriend? ... she's in my bag
I was reading to my granddaughter. "4 and 20 blackbirds, baked in a pie." She likes that one. But do *you* think "blackbirds" when you hear "4-20?" In 1967 in S.F., I was a hippie. Yep the real deal. You just have to imagine the long hair. Now, [point] Mohawk. I know most of you have never seen a real hippie, so if you like after the show for the price of a gallon of gas you can have your picture taken with me. I'll be pushing my car to the Arco station.
Thank you. I'm Rich Orwell.
Monday, March 5, 2012
What am I missing about Occupy?
Gandhi was a strong leader who had a just cause. He made demands and when they weren't met had a plan. He protested in a non-violent way until he won.
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was a student of Gandhi. He used the same strategy and he won.
It seems to me Occupy has no leaders, has no plan, makes no demands, and cannot win. Please, somebody, tell me how and why I'm wrong.
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was a student of Gandhi. He used the same strategy and he won.
It seems to me Occupy has no leaders, has no plan, makes no demands, and cannot win. Please, somebody, tell me how and why I'm wrong.
Friday, March 2, 2012
Rooster T. Feathers competition
I have the preliminary round of a competition next Wednesday, 3/7/12. Here are some notes I'm using to get ready. Two are just Titles, the rest are full text. There are a LOT of new / topical / political bits. I like to live on the edge.
Cracker
==============================
Lots of places in the country are experiencing an unseasonably hot winter.
Coming this April, H&R Sunblock.
==============================
Here's a question. When was the last time you changed AA batteries? One faces one way. The other faces the other way. They're pushed right up against each other. Am I the *only* pervert who's thinking 69?
((((((((((((((((((( recognizes that position? [p] Horny little bastards. I envy them. Their sex life is more energetic than mine & lasts longer, too. They just keep going and going. Like bunnies. Those Lithium-Ion guys. Keep me awake all night. ))))))))))))))))))
==============================
Disneyland has opened the first ride in its new area, Vaginaland. Nothing but trouble. The men say they have to wait too long and the women say the ride's too short.
==============================
First, thank you for coming out to support live comedy. We know you could be home watching TV [p] or Internet porn [p].
My name is Rich Orwell and I'm old.
Ever lose a lot of weight - donate your fat clothes to charity - put the weight back on? [point] Sweat pants.
How old am I? I don't try to pick up women any more. When *I* get lucky, I find the car.
Almost didn't make it here tonight. These gas prices! I had to go on craigslist and sell a kidney. OK, my wife's.
Once in a great while [p] I can remember having sex.
When I was young, the nicest woman I ever dated was a school teacher. She never complained about premature ejaculation. She called it "an Incomplete."
(((((((( I was reading to my granddaughter. ))))))) "4 and 20 blackbirds, baked in a pie." Who thinks "blackbirds" when you hear "4-20?" If you don't know "4-20," go back 45 years.
1967, San Francisco, . I was a hippie. Yep. The real deal. I used to have a *full head* [shake] of shoulder-length hair. I know you've probably never seen a real hippie. So, if you like, after the show, for $5, you can have your picture taken with me. For just $5 more, you get a signed, "That guy was a hippie" certificate of authenticity. Suitable for framing.
I've been married 30 years, but now *I've* got a mistress. Very sexy. She has a 'tramp stamp.' I bet you've seen those. A lower back tattoo just above her butt crack. You know, they can be anything. Words, artwork. My gf's tramp stamp says, 'Do not over inflate.' Did I mention she's an *inflatable* girlfriend? ... she's in my bag
==============================
You may have noticed I don't smile much. Comics are supposed to smile. Look good. Make friends with the audience. [p] My mother never taught me how to brush my teeth. I know. Thanks, mom.
They're stained the color of every entrée on an Indian lunch buffet. Some of you know what I mean. Brown and gray and yellow and green and red.
I bought the strips. I'm going to whiten my teeth. I'm going to whiten my teeth [p]
with Photoshop.
Vote for me. Keep me out of the rest home, please. I'm Rich Orwell.
#################
Republicans are angry that blacks got an extra day for Black History Month. If they win in November, they plan to cut February to *21* days. [p] Add a one-week mini-month called either: Mitt-ember, Gingrich-uary, or Santorum[p]pty-Dumpty. (the other nursery rhyme!)
After a rough spring and summer, Santorumpty-Dumpty wants to have a great fall.
##############################################
I don't think we can ignore Super Tuesday.
Did you watch those debates? I *know* for an old man to talk about politics is boring and sex is *creepy*. I'll see if I can de-creepify it. Those Republican candidates are like dildos. Anatomically correct but inanimate objects always ready to screw us.
And you ladies understand this ... Democrats at least will talk to you, maybe buy you dinner. Afterwards stroke your hair. Call you. Have the courtesy to vibrate. Republicans don't do that.
The symbol for the Republican Party shouldn't be the elephant or the rhino. It should be that *other* pachyderm, the hippo-crit.
##############################################
That's all for politics. I promise.
==============================
Here's a tough one. If a married man's lover is a "mistress," what do you call a married *woman's* lover? A man has a mistress. A *woman* has [p] an "orgasm." "This is my orgasm, Roberto."
==============================
Or down in San Jose, watching that troupe of masturbating french-canadian acrobats, circle jerk du soleil.
==============================
????? I took my cane to the movies. The couple behind me was talking, so I turned around and said, "Please ...?" The guy had a pistol in his belt. Fixed *him*, though. Made him leave. He couldn't *stand* the smell of asparagus. ?????
eieio
My friend David is a Pyromaniac. Yes, he is. Looking for a date. Not on chemistry dot com or eHarmony dot com. Pyromaniacs prefer [p] match dot com
==============================
Yeah, I'm getting older. I went to the doctor Monday. The receptionist said, "He's running behind." I said, "I know all about that. I'm taking Imodium AD."
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Quiet for a while
I've been busy lately. I'm getting ready for a comedy competition on 3/7 at Rooster T. Feathers in Sunnyvale and I've been honing material like crazy.
The biggest concern is that my memory fails unpredictably. No amount of rehearsal guarantees I can get through a 5-minute set -- or even 20 seconds of it.
My advice to you comics is: Skip diabetes. Skip degenerative brain disease. But if you get it, tell club owners. They tend to be considerate and view using notes on stage as an adaptive remedy for disability.
I'm in touch with the "Comedians with Disabilities Act." They're all comics with physical issues. If it works out, I'll begin touring with them.
I'm not sure about bringing notes onto the stage (on paper or my Kindle) on March 7th. If I do, should I mention the reason why in the beginning of my set or wait until I need to use them? Talking about it is a huge time killer.
I've been able to get through 5 minutes or more by sticking to long stories (2 or 3 minutes each), typically from my life. While I don't have access to the actual memories (and haven't had access to those for many, many years now), I generally can remember what I heard other people say about the events. Most of the time.
I also do well with brand new material. It seems to go into a different spot in my mind than "tried and true" material -- it goes into a spot I can reach. Maybe there's excitement in having written something new.
But I admit I'm far more comfortable doing a 10th or 20th rewrite than sitting alone, running through my set and finding myself suddenly unable to remember what to say. And then I read it from the computer to myself or aloud and try again. And the same thing happens, maybe in a different spot. I get depressed. I know I didn't used to be this way. I'm losing my identity.
It isn't *physically* painful, but the distress is real.
As it is, I'm working with 11 new and 7 older bits. A few are political (and one of those is effing brilliant -- destined to be repeated in print and internet newspapers), more are sexual (but crafted to *not* be "old man" creepy), and there are a very few "get to know me." My mission is to edit it down and make it cohesive and well-timed.
The biggest concern is that my memory fails unpredictably. No amount of rehearsal guarantees I can get through a 5-minute set -- or even 20 seconds of it.
My advice to you comics is: Skip diabetes. Skip degenerative brain disease. But if you get it, tell club owners. They tend to be considerate and view using notes on stage as an adaptive remedy for disability.
I'm in touch with the "Comedians with Disabilities Act." They're all comics with physical issues. If it works out, I'll begin touring with them.
I'm not sure about bringing notes onto the stage (on paper or my Kindle) on March 7th. If I do, should I mention the reason why in the beginning of my set or wait until I need to use them? Talking about it is a huge time killer.
I've been able to get through 5 minutes or more by sticking to long stories (2 or 3 minutes each), typically from my life. While I don't have access to the actual memories (and haven't had access to those for many, many years now), I generally can remember what I heard other people say about the events. Most of the time.
I also do well with brand new material. It seems to go into a different spot in my mind than "tried and true" material -- it goes into a spot I can reach. Maybe there's excitement in having written something new.
But I admit I'm far more comfortable doing a 10th or 20th rewrite than sitting alone, running through my set and finding myself suddenly unable to remember what to say. And then I read it from the computer to myself or aloud and try again. And the same thing happens, maybe in a different spot. I get depressed. I know I didn't used to be this way. I'm losing my identity.
It isn't *physically* painful, but the distress is real.
As it is, I'm working with 11 new and 7 older bits. A few are political (and one of those is effing brilliant -- destined to be repeated in print and internet newspapers), more are sexual (but crafted to *not* be "old man" creepy), and there are a very few "get to know me." My mission is to edit it down and make it cohesive and well-timed.
A rerun
I put this out on Facebook tonight. It's a bit from a coupla years ago, but I love it.
I'm currently in an intense relationship with the accessories hose of my vacuum cleaner. She likes to do what I want *all* the time and she's so easy to turn on -- it's like a switch. Also, I find it exotic that she's black. When I was younger, all I only used to date *white* hose. [this works a lot better when I bring the hose on stage with me]
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
COBO 1/28/12
This is the set I did at Comedy Off Broadway Oakland on 1/28.
thank you for coming out to support local comedy. if you're looking forward to some fun this evening, give yourselves a hand.
If you're thinking, "I can't believe how old that guy is," me, either.
not an old pro. only been doing this a couple of years.
Let me tell you a bit about me.
Times were simpler when I was a boy. There was no Attention Deficit Disorder, A.D.D. There was "Go to the vice principal's office." I did that a *lot.*
In 1965 heard a bill cosby album and said that's what I want to do Parents, "You're 15. Go do your Homework." Slowed me down.
I'm a native San Franciscan. (others. worst = zombies - awful) In 1967, we had a little event called "the summer of love" and when I say "we," I mean me. I was a hippie.
Before you shout "Bullshit," take off 45 years and *65* pounds. Add bell bottom trousers, red eyeballs, a shit-eating grin from smoking dope *and* a full head of shoulder-length brown hair [tilt & shake head]. [p] Was I not splendid? Lemme hear you. I know most of you have never seen a hippie, so if you want, after the show, for $5 you can have your picture taken with me.
Only $10 more gets you a signed "That old guy was a hippie" certificate of authenticity, suitable for framing.
Impressed with our hosts, b/c they are each fluent in at least 2 languages
I am no language slouch either. I'm fluent in Ten, I say again, 10 languages of menu
65 pounds.
I want lose weight this year so I changed my diet. Any vege here? it's ok. there's nothing to fear. I won't let the carnivores harm you.
This is my 28th day as an ovo-lacto vege. means I eat eggs and dairy products as well as fruits & vegetables. as opposed to vegans, who eat ONLY fruits and vegetables. There's one other kind, the ovo-lacto-fisho-chicko-turko-beefo-porko-sheepo vegetarian, who eats everything but ducko.
new year's eve, wife wanted us to get prime rib. my last meat meal. btw, "Meat Meal" is a great exercise to learn to touch type. we had to wait for the table. *very* "romantic." One votive candle on the table. *Really* dark. suitable only for moles. Waitress asks, What can I bring you to start? I said, "a LANTERN" (backed up a step, says "What?") hadn't eaten. a little surly. ... "or a menu in BRAILLE." after short talk w/the mgr, made a *new* resolution...in 2012 I will not abuse waiters & waitresses.
one other resolution this year. to make my wife happier,[p] by buying something electric to use in bed. no, not that. illnesses and meds are messing up my memory and my neurologist says it will only get worse. wife has always liked it when I say her name in bed. but sometimes I forget her name. It's true. So now, before we start, I have to take a magic marker -- and write it -- on her forehead. she says it "ruins the spontaneity." Lemme ask you, do you all know the Star Wars character Jabba the Hut? To read her name I have to leave the light on. *She's* looking at Jabba [p] in a nightcap [p] and reading glasses. And then she doesn't want to have sex any more. she'll be happier now. I ordered her name on a neon sign.
thank you for coming out to support local comedy. if you're looking forward to some fun this evening, give yourselves a hand.
If you're thinking, "I can't believe how old that guy is," me, either.
not an old pro. only been doing this a couple of years.
Let me tell you a bit about me.
Times were simpler when I was a boy. There was no Attention Deficit Disorder, A.D.D. There was "Go to the vice principal's office." I did that a *lot.*
In 1965 heard a bill cosby album and said that's what I want to do Parents, "You're 15. Go do your Homework." Slowed me down.
I'm a native San Franciscan. (others. worst = zombies - awful) In 1967, we had a little event called "the summer of love" and when I say "we," I mean me. I was a hippie.
Before you shout "Bullshit," take off 45 years and *65* pounds. Add bell bottom trousers, red eyeballs, a shit-eating grin from smoking dope *and* a full head of shoulder-length brown hair [tilt & shake head]. [p] Was I not splendid? Lemme hear you. I know most of you have never seen a hippie, so if you want, after the show, for $5 you can have your picture taken with me.
Only $10 more gets you a signed "That old guy was a hippie" certificate of authenticity, suitable for framing.
Impressed with our hosts, b/c they are each fluent in at least 2 languages
I am no language slouch either. I'm fluent in Ten, I say again, 10 languages of menu
65 pounds.
I want lose weight this year so I changed my diet. Any vege here? it's ok. there's nothing to fear. I won't let the carnivores harm you.
This is my 28th day as an ovo-lacto vege. means I eat eggs and dairy products as well as fruits & vegetables. as opposed to vegans, who eat ONLY fruits and vegetables. There's one other kind, the ovo-lacto-fisho-chicko-turko-beefo-porko-sheepo vegetarian, who eats everything but ducko.
new year's eve, wife wanted us to get prime rib. my last meat meal. btw, "Meat Meal" is a great exercise to learn to touch type. we had to wait for the table. *very* "romantic." One votive candle on the table. *Really* dark. suitable only for moles. Waitress asks, What can I bring you to start? I said, "a LANTERN" (backed up a step, says "What?") hadn't eaten. a little surly. ... "or a menu in BRAILLE." after short talk w/the mgr, made a *new* resolution...in 2012 I will not abuse waiters & waitresses.
one other resolution this year. to make my wife happier,[p] by buying something electric to use in bed. no, not that. illnesses and meds are messing up my memory and my neurologist says it will only get worse. wife has always liked it when I say her name in bed. but sometimes I forget her name. It's true. So now, before we start, I have to take a magic marker -- and write it -- on her forehead. she says it "ruins the spontaneity." Lemme ask you, do you all know the Star Wars character Jabba the Hut? To read her name I have to leave the light on. *She's* looking at Jabba [p] in a nightcap [p] and reading glasses. And then she doesn't want to have sex any more. she'll be happier now. I ordered her name on a neon sign.
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