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True Lies

True Lies

Painting With Fire

April 13, 2014

“The painter has only to create one masterpiece, himself, constantly”

–Yves Klein

So much to do so little time.  I find myself at times paralyzed with indecision. Then the fear of missing out creeps into the back of my mind. It sucks. You want to accomplish so much, yet it takes a lot to do what appears to be so little. By doing one thing you got to pretty much drop everything.

I keep on thinking about artist Yves Klein. Yves was a big figure in the Post World War II art scene in Europe. Klein had naked female models covered in blue paint laying on canvases to make the images. He was constantly on the go. Not only did he create art,  he was an accomplished judo master who spoke many different languages, and he even painted with fire.

Rumor has it, he never slept. Then one day he had a heart attack and died.

Note to self, get some sleep. Work will get done. Be patient.

Featured, Lifestyle, True Lies

Embrace The Heckler

February 10, 2014

On a long enough timeline, we all get heckled. It doesn’t matter whether it’s a paid gig, a comedy contest or an open mic. Heckling is an occupational hazard in the ‘world’s greatest job’.

If you’re brave or foolish enough to step onto a stage and string together some jokes to a point of view, heckling is inevitable. Like everyone working on their stand-up craft, I take my lumps of abuse. My attitude towards heckling is to learn from it and move forward. What else can one do? Let the heckler win, cry myself to sleep, quit doing comedy and crawl into a tear-drenched fetal position of defeat.

I assumed I experienced heckling in all its craven forms, then life proved me wrong.

I’ve experience everything from a random punter in the back yelling out ‘You suck!’ to the misguided patron attempting to ‘enhance’ the show; from bottles being thrown at me to an internet troll posting that my act is ‘rubbish’ from a comment card proclaiming, ‘A case of herpes is funnier’ than me to the disc jockey hosting a comedy contest getting an entire audience to boo in unison.
Saturday night, I head to the local supermarket to buy some fried chicken and coffee. When I get back to my truck, I notice a hand written note on my windshield left for me to read.

You

‘YOU’RE NOT FUNNY!’ proclaims the handwritten note on the back of a receipt with a heart at the end of the exclamation point.
At first I was angry and quite pissed off. Why of all the nerve! I look around and scan the parking lot to see if anyone is watching from afar trying to gauge the impact of their personalised comment.

I flip the receipt over and learn at 11 am they spent $7 for three tacos at El Rey Taqueria, a fast food joint. They spent seven bucks of their own cash for tortillas, cilantro, meat, lettuce and tomatoes. Then I started laughing uncontrollably.

It’s hard for me to take anyone that spends seven bucks for three tacos in Houston, the Tex Mex capital of the world, seriously. That’s like paying £10 for fish and chips in Cardiff. Not only was my heckler afraid heckling me at a proper venue, they are also afraid of real Tex Mex cooked by real Mexicans/Hondurans/Salvadorans. Seriously, what a cowardly douche bag.

Then my mood changed from laughter to pride. I motivated someone. Forget motivated, I moved someone. I actually moved someone to do something beyond yelling ‘Boo!’

They took time out of their lives and noticed my truck. Then they found pen, a scrap of paper and left a personalised handwritten note on my windshield. And they used correct grammar. Great Xerxes’ Ghost! I am motivating people to learn how to read and write!
Instead of funneling their hatred onto something as random as my ethnicity, creed or faith, they took the time to hate me for who I am on stage. I feel like I am living Doctor Martin Luther King’s dream. They say the opposite of love isn’t hate, but indifference. It feels good to be loathed, loathed by cowards.

Featured, True Lies

The Further Adventures of Al B & Zach Dickson!

February 5, 2014

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“I’m going to punch him!” the drunk fat stripper slurs at me.

“You want no part of this! Now go on and get going!” scolds the grizzled old door guy.

She listens, steps away and stumbles to her truck. Only to turn around, raise her fist at me and slur, “I’m going to punch you!”. Then she almost trips over the chihuahua tied to the chain link fence on the way to her pick up truck.

I take a step toward the strip club’s red door. The door guy takes a step between me and the door, “You don’t want to go in there!”

“I know. I don’t want to go in there. And I know I don’t want to call the cops. I just want my phone. “

“So what happened again?”,he asks me for the third time.

“I was eating wings and your friend grabbed my phone when I wasn’t looking. In fact I was shown video of your friend in the khakis and light plaid shirt doing it.”

“How do you know the phone is here?”

Zack Dickson who’s been standing besides me the entire time pulls out his phone flashes the screen with the GPS signal.

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“According to this my phone is here. I don’t want to call the cops or go inside I just want my phone.”

The door guy disappears behind the big red door. “So what now?” Zach asks.

“Now we play the waiting game.”

We then hear the door guy yell at the guy who stole my phone.

“Look he’s got the tracker! And he has video of you taking it! Give it!”

The door guy emerges from the door with my phone in his hands. “Is this it?”

I type in my password, “ Yup!”.

Zach shake his hand and palms the guy some money, ”For your troubles,”.

We then head back to St. Danes to tell jokes.

A week later, I tell another friend what happened. “Al, that wasn’t a strip club. That was a hooker.”

True Lies

The Tooth. The Whole Tooth. Nothing But the Tooth.

January 5, 2014

I found a human tooth on the table.

At first I wasn’t so sure it was really a tooth. I sat down and stared at it for what felt like a good while.  Maybe it’s a messed up mutant popcorn kernel? Maybe it’s candy? I tilt my head to change perspective.

Oh crap, it’s a tooth.

I wiped my tongue inside my mouth to check if I had lost any of my own teeth .

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True Lies

The Tooth. The Whole Tooth. Nothing But the Tooth.

January 5, 2014

I found a human tooth on the table.

At first I wasn’t so sure it was really a tooth. I sat down and stared at it for what felt like a good while.  Maybe it’s a messed up mutant popcorn kernel? Maybe it’s candy? I tilt my head to change perspective.

Oh crap, it’s a tooth.

I wiped my tongue inside my mouth to check if I had lost any of my own teeth .

Hey James, have you lost any teeth?

“Recently?”, James asks in his Yorkshire accent.

I knod, ‘Yup.’

Can’t say I have. Why?

I point at the tooth on the table.

James’ eyes perk up and he asks his wife, ‘Jen honey, have you lost any teeth recently?’.

Does that look like a human tooth to you? I ask.

‘It might be candy,’ James  then pauses as he recognizes it.

‘It’s a human tooth, Al have you lost any teeth?’

‘No.’

‘So what do you plan on doing with it? Are you going to hide it under your pillow for beer money?’

‘I was thinking about burying it and growing a beanstalk that cuts into a dimension of where rich cannibal giants live.’

‘Perhaps the bartender has a lost and found?’

‘Good idea.’

‘You can’t be serious.’

I pick up the tooth with a napkin and head to the bartender.

‘Do you have a lost and found and have you lost any teeth?’

‘Why?’ asks the bartender.

‘I found this on my table. I open the napkin and show him the tooth.’

‘Maybe it’s candy corn? Yup, it’s a tooth. So do you want to keep it?’

I stare at the napkin for a while to think it over.

I crumble up napkin and throw the tooth in the trash.

Two days later, my Mom calls and tells me she lost a tooth. A couple later James and I collaborate on our first short film together.