Monday, March 14, 2011

it isn't you it's me.

Dear Blogger,

There is no easy way to say this, so I'll just say it; I think it's time we part ways.

Please don't be mad. You know it's true.

I haven't touched you since November. I didn't, then I didn't some more, and then some more, til it got awkward and then I didn't even more. Now it's March and it's just too weird. I can't start over. I'm sorry.

If you need me I'll be here Don't get the wrong idea; I haven't been blogging there the whole time. I never blogged there when I was blogging with you. It just happened. I swear. It's just a better fit for me right now. I hope you understand.

Well, okay then. Thanks for everything, Blogger.


Sunday, November 14, 2010

on to the next one...

The new ColorStruck is this coming weekend, bigger, better and coloreder than ever...

You should get your tickets now. Once it's sold out, no, I can not come to the door and get you in. Please get them now?

8:30pm Friday Nov. 19
8:30pm Saturday Nov. 20

Nick's Comedy Stop
100 Warrenton St.
buy tix here

Friday, October 08, 2010

"And get a couple of puppies, shar pei puppies, to cover my manhood. Ladies love puppies. Almost as much as The Hoff."

Thursday, September 30, 2010

this is a long one...

If my therapist didn't dump me a few months back because she didn't like my insurance, today we would be talking about my heavy sadness at the loss of one of my comedy idols, Greg Giraldo.

First she would remind me to not furiously Google all things related to his death (as part of my therapy my Googling was restricted to comedy related matters), I would say "Of course," and I would tell her about this interview with him that moved me so much last year.

I would say "That is exactly how I feel. Except for the talent. And the kids. And the success. And the Harvard. I have told you many of the same things."

She would say "Yes, I know. I have it all right here," tapping her yellow pad. She wouldn't actually, all that writing she did during our sessions was most likely "WTF??!!" and "Get me outta here!" doodles, but she would be professional enough to say that to me.

She would remind me that the soul crushing feelings of failure and dread and panic and self hatred is just the clutter of unproductive thoughts, put there by situations, events, people and stuff, held onto by me.

She would encourage me (again) to picture mean little thoughts, trying to derail me, with which I can choose, or choose not, to engage. And then she would give me a new "skill" involving visualizing a leaf floating away with the mean thoughts, or stepping out of a puddle of the antagonizing thoughts, or nodding my head and turning away from the little bastard thoughts, to help me not engage with them.

She did dump me though, so that's not what happened. After days of obsessive "following" his death, today I was downhearted, Google-abused, what's-the-point-ing and afraid to take my Xanax. Over my coffee (decaf, lest I trigger a panic attack) I remembered my little conversation with him in Montreal.

I got to perform in the Montreal Comedy Festival this year. I was waiting in line to check into the hotel, along with a dozen other comics, whom I've admired and seen on TV, when I promptly decided "I don't belong here." I hid in my room for many many hours, wondering how the hell I had finagled my way into this, waiting to be found out to be a fraud and sent home.

I did convinced myself at some point that if nothing else, I should see the city before I get kicked out of it. I went out, sight-saw, bought a wooden kitty sitting in lotus position, ate lunch in a quiet garden, and went back to the hotel, calm and resolved to enjoy whatever time I had at the festival before the revelation. I was going to go to a ton of comedy shows, and every single one that Greg Giraldo was on.

When I got to the hotel lobby, Greg Giraldo was there talking to a couple of friends. I lurched by him, smiled a spazzy smile and headed to the elevators. "You," I said to me, "are such a fucking dumbass, why can't you just say hi??!! Why do you always have to be a crazy moron?!"

"I don't." I replied. Envisioning a black hole of regret sucking on me for the rest of my life, I punched the mean thought in the face, and walked back over to him and said "Hi Greg. I am looking forward to your show tonight."

"Oh great, thanks!" he said. He saw my badge, said my name and asked what I was doing in the festival. We chatted for a minute or two about my event, his shows, the festival, and such.

"Well, nice talking to you," I said. "I just wanted to say hi and tell you that when I found out I was coming here, I was really hoping this would happen, you are who I really wanted to see and talk to."

"Yeah Right." he said.

"Yes, really. I wanted to meet you, I think you're awesome. I admire you so much, I love what you do." I said. eek. too much. such a spaz.

"Right. Of everyone here?! Me?!? Do you know Steve Martin is here!?" he said.

"I know it's queer. I'm sorry." I crinkled back into myself and headed for the elevators.

His friend stopped me. "No it's not. It's awesome," she said. "You comedians need to stop being such assholes and say things like that to each other. It's awesome that you feel that way, and it's awesome that you told him."

"I'm blown away," he said, "Thanks so much for telling me that, Bethany. I need to hear that."

"Okay, then." I said. We had a few more sentences, this time funny, not awkward, I made him a laugh a little, he made me laugh alot. I went up to my room, reveling in how I overcame my loserness enough to talk to him. I remembered the interview and thought "Omg, he'd SO get that!" He has to fight everyday to get out of his own way for him to be where he is, and he does it. I can do it too. "Maybe one day I'll open for him and tell him what a spaz I was that day."

I won't now. But I will remember that little conversation, and how it lifted me in so many ways. I'll keep getting out of my own way everyday, putting things on leaves, and stepping out of puddles. And remembering to be grateful to be where I am, and that I get to be part of this amazing thing, full of talented, brilliant, broken, warm, passionate and hilarious people like him.

Thank you, Greg. RIP.

Thursday, September 09, 2010

well, I think it's funny...

Recently I had to make a return. 2 girls in their 20's were ahead of me, with 2 enormous, overflowing shopping bags of returns. They began pulling out baby clothes, outfit after little outfit, butt loads of baby clothes, so I figured they were stylists.

The more stuff they pulled out, the slower the return-clerk moved, as if baby clothes are return-clerk Kryptonite. I had to catch a bus back to Boston for a show, and only left 1 hour to get this done, so I started to get a little anxious. Then I started to get a little ragey thinking "What kinda goddamn job is buying things and returning them, get real job, like a comedian!" which was followed by laughter, and then the absurd thought "Uh oh. Maybe they're not stylists. Maybe they just had an abortion."

I nearly choked laughing and decided I should most certainly share the hilarity with someone. The lady behind me looked like she was gonna punch me in the face, just for being there, so I called my hubby. I told him the story:

me: Isn't that hilarious?
him: No.
me: No? Why, "abortion" isn't funny?
him: No.
me: Is "adoption" funnier?
him: No.
me: Well everyone knows "miscarriage" isn't funny.
him: None of it is funny, Bethany. None of it.

Come see some REALLY funny, dressed up people tonight at
The Dress Up Show
8pm, Mottley's Comedy Club
61 Chatham St. - Fanueil Hall.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

cocktails and comedy

2 gentlemen sat at my bar the other night. One was normal, the other's social anxiety disorder, or very small penis, had him overcompensating a little.

Guy1 confidently ordered an Aviation, a classic gin cocktail.

Guy2 pulled the "What's your favorite drink?" crap, to which I always reply, "A double whiskey, neat" which isn't always true. But men who a) don't know what they want to drink and/or b) want to drink a complete stranger's favorite drink are generally candy asses who are sort of flirting, and I'm generally an asshole who thinks it's funny to see candy asses gag on warm whiskey. He didn't fall for it. He got a Comso, which is what his candy ass wanted all along.

They finished their first round, then

Me: (to Guy1) Would you like another Aviation?
Guy 1: No, it was delicious, but I want to try some other stuff.
Guy 2: Yeah, he’s getting married next week. So he wants to sample a bunch of stuff out there, before then.
Me: Oh. I see.
Me: (to Guy1) Are you marrying a cocktail?
Guy1: ahahahahahaha!
Guy2: Oh, I guess I thought I was being funny, but I guess you are.
Me: It's my day job. No hard feelings?

Tonight I'll be at The Broadway Comedy Club with some of NY funniest ladies. Come buy me a double whiskey, candy ass.

7-8:30pm Wednesday, August 25, 2010
318 West 53rd bet. 8th & 9th

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Im watching a baby sparrow eat vomit off of the sidewalk. Is that take out?
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Sunday, May 16, 2010

this is why i really need to start smoking pot again...

----- Original Message -----
Sent: Fri, 14 May 2010 19:47:23 +0000
Subject: can't edit my design [InteractionID: 9796d790-58c3-459a-851f-e1ddfb1ac2bf]

Hi, I am trying to edit the font size on my card design before I place the order, but it won't allow me to make the change.

Date: Fri, 14 May 2010 15:06:03 -0500
Subject: Re: can't edit my design [InteractionID: f4da12ec-b1bc-42fc-a78c-8221f15ee679]


You need to be in edit before you can change.

If any questions, please call 888-333-3199.

Thank you.
Brand Care Expert
Midwest Contact Center
1985 Lookout Dr., N. Mankato, MN 56003
P 877.883.2518 | F 866.486.5419

RE: can't edit my design [InteractionID: f4da12ec-b1bc-42fc-a78c-8221f15ee679]‏
From: BVD BVD (
Sent: Sun 5/16/10 4:11 PM

Yes, I can read English and I was in edit. I appreciate your vote of confidence. Is 'assumption' taught as part of your customer service training or are you just naturally condescending?

Thanks for your help.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

just so you know

The male giant waterbug will not allow the female to lay eggs on his back until he has copulated with her and she has stayed with him for quite some time.

Good for you, male giant waterbug.

Tuesday, April 06, 2010

the bit

I had a dream that I was with a group of friends hanging out on a stoop with Senator Ted Kennedy. He asked me what I do and I told him "I'm a stand up comedian. I get to say whatever I want. Kinda like you people."

He smiled a little and I said "Yup. Just like you people. But I work an hour a day. What do you guys work, 10-15 minutes a week?"

He laughed and said "Eerrrr ahhhhh, yaaahahahahahaha!"

I woke up and wrote it down and went back to sleep.

I read it this morning, it was written just like it is here, but with this heading:

"The Bit That's Getting Me On Letterman"

I said out loud to myself "I shoulda said 'Headcase'. Once I'm famous, of course."

This is really what it should have said:

"The Bit That's Getting Me On "True Life: I'm Delusional"

Baby steps.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Buy your ColorStruck tix now!!

Come out for a multi-ethnic night of laughter with these awesome ladies:

Deb Farrar-Parkman - Emmy Award Winner
Janet Cormier - Cormier's Comedy Madness
Alycia Cooper - BETs Comic View
Susan Alexander - 5 Funny Females
Esther Ku - Last Comic Standing
Sketch fro Sheila Jackson
special guest sets by up and comers Shereen & Asie Mohtarez

Get tix online at or by calling 1800 745-3000

Saturday, February 20, 2010

when you least expect it...

husband: One time, instead of putting sugar in my coffee I put salt. Do you know how shocking that first mouthful was? It was like putting your hand down a hooker's pants and finding she's a tranny.

me: Wow. You must really not expect salt.