The Daily Derenger

7/27/2002

Waking up hungover on the floor of a senior citizen housing community. That's my story for this Saturday. I did a show at The Washington County Fair just north of Milwaukee last night. There are no accommodations but luckily the headliner, Rob Brackenridge, has some connections. His best friend is from here and owns a house on the lake nearby. Great, we're crashing with him then, right? Wrong. His friend is out of town and his mother-in-law is staying at the lake house. We're staying at her place which she's not even totally moved in to yet. I get the spare room with no bed ... but a TV, the only one in the place, too.

As we were walking to the car last night, we saw a couple of ladies. We had been drinking and wanted to hang out. We grabbed some beers from the radio station's cooler who sponsored our show. We then appproached the ladies and asked, "Hey ladies, wanna go drink free beer at an old person's home?" So as Rob and I drank alone later that night ...

7/25/2002

Check this out. My friend Marcus Driggs is a stand-up comic in Los Angeles. He heard about a talent consultant and author named Dave Schwensen who would review Driggs' tape for $10 and send back some in-depth feedback. Driggs sent the tape and Schwensen replied.

(I know, where are the jokes, Scott?) Well I bought the book 4 years ago that Schwensen wrote about how to get work as a stand-up comic. When Driggs told me about what he had done, a light came on in this sick and twisted thing called my head. I'm going to send the dude my tape and $10. He'll watch it and really enjoy it. Why? Because the tape won't be of me getting laughs. Rather, it will be of me having sex. ( I will admit that they are interchangeable at times.) The kicker is that there will be some lube sitting atop Schwensen's book which will also be a top astack of Playboys, Penthouses, and Swanks. The camera will focus on the sex but will zoom in on his book off to the side serving as an AstroGlide coaster. In addition, instead of me talking dirty, I will quote randomly from the book and the girl will ask for more punchlines and less set-ups. I'm willing to bet Schwensen will laugh, book me in his Ohio club, and send me $10 for the porno I sent him.

So ... whadda ya think? It's great to be a professional pervert. I get paid to think up this shit!

7/22/2002

Last night I was an asshole. And not in the usual sense of the word either. I played the card game Asshole and lost big time. The first game I was vice-asshole. Clearly my card skills are lacking. I really am bad at cards. I've just never played nor learned how to. Aside from Uno and Go Fish, I'm useless when people bust out the cards. All I can do is be the funny guy who watches.

In being the typical asshole, the other players wanted to see me drink - early and often. I had no problem with that since it was 304 degrees with 4000% humidity in Chicago yesterday. But I drank too much too fast. I felt it coming back from where it went in. (I don't know what it's been with me lately and my vomit-laden posts. Read the ones below to find out.) It began as a small cough and then quickly escalated into yakking my bratwurst and burger all over the place. It happened on the second level of my friend's back porch; Her neighbor's place was just below. I'm quite sure the sight this morning was something for the cameras. Let it be known that it was her first weekend in the apartment. And it may have been her last. Sorry Jenn and Jamie.

I almost made it completely off the deck. I guess they gave me an A for effort. So with some of my 'cookies' in plain view, I began to wash away my barf. I wasn't sick so I was able to do so without a problem. I scooped out the water surrounding the isle of the Miller Lite keg. This took way too long and interrupted the on-going game of asshole. They didn't flinch at the site of my puking or the remains. They had business to attend to. Another asshole was to be crowned with my sudden and entertaining departure.

There was quite a number done on the keg by this point in the night - around 3am - and about a quarter of it was left. I yanked it out of the garbage can leaving only the beer-and-water concoction left. I dumped the entire can of that brew in the direction of my mess. It flowed down the steps and out into the yard. Witnesses say it was the single best job ever done by someone cleaning up his own puke. I kind of feel special now.

I then put the keg back in the can. But it would get warm. That's alcohol abuse. So realizing that they just moved in and hearing someone suggest it for some reason, I tried to put the keg in the fridge. This move may have secured my asshole status for months. I shoved what food they had in the bottom drawer and on the shelves of the door. Still didn't fit. I pulled off the things on the door to try to make it fit. Nope. Now I just looked like a complete idiot who had puke all over his shirt. Out came the keg and back into the empty can it went. And probably still sits. With that effort falling short, I called it a night. But not before they made an annoucement: It's official. I am truly an asshole ... who cleans up his barf.

7/22/2002

You've seen Lilo and Stitch. I'm looking forward to Dildo and Snatch. They'll be the best tandem since Starsky and Hutch.