Disclaimer: I ate 3 pounds of bacon this morning. That's not the disclaimer. The disclaimer is please excuse the lack of grammar and utter disregard for proper spelling while reading this. I can't help it. I eat a lot of bacon and sometimes it affects the way I think.
Last week I had the good fortune to do another amazing bar gig. Now I've said before that bar gigs can go one of two ways: amazingly awful or please let my car hit a barrier on the way home awful.
The show was in the banquet hall of a bar in Baltimore that we will call the Kingdom of Fun for the sake of protecting the innocent. Actually the venue wasn't bad at all. The room was nice. The sound system wasn't bad. The clientele were attentive and appreciative. So you're probably thinking Larry, what was the problem then? There were 9 people there. Nine people in a banquet room that holds about 80. If you have nine people and they're all laughing it still doesn't feel like you're doing well. In fact it doesn't even feel like you're doing a show. It feels more like a relaxed work meeting and you're making everybody laugh by poking fun at Steve from logistics.
[Hit the jump people! Rednecks inside!]
After the show a guy came up to me to offer advice on how I should end a few jokes. Luckily the 9 PBR's this guy had during the show really cleared his head so that the creativity could flow easily. He basically told me to end a joke that I do with a racial slur. The joke is about horoscopes. It doesn't even involve people.
(Thanks for the tip Bad Teeth guy)
I'm going to give this show an amazingly awful rating because I didn't have an urge to drive into a concrete barrier on the way home. Sure I left the Kingdom of Fun questioning what I'm doing, but I can't lie and say that I didn't somehow have fun. It's one of those shows that while you're doing it you are saying to yourself "this is awful, but I'm liking it" and then you immediately ask yourself "Am I retarded?"
By the way...with Christmas on the way pick yourself a gift that keeps giving this holiday season. The Larry Poon Doormat. The description says it all.
"Poonified" Doormat --- $39.99 "Some pompous douchebags may also be selling doormats, but none of their doormats have the heavenly vision of Larry Poon smiling up at them while they wipe the dog shit off their feet. This is most likely your only chance to run your shoes, sandals, flip-flops, or your bare genitalia on Larry Poon's face, so take advantage of this item while it's in stock!!"
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