Career? I'm Just Here for The Beer!
By John Saleeby
"Have you been talking to my parents?" - John Saleeby
Before I became the incredibly successful comedy writer I am today, I was a stand up comic in New York City. Used to M.C. in this crummy folk club called The Chameleon. Oh, yeah, sure, if I had spent more time hanging around the big time comedy clubs like Catch A Rising Star or the Comic Strip I would have made the kind of business contacts which might have lead to a glamorous career in the Wonderful World of Entertainment, but screw that; at The Chameleon I could get shitfaced drunk for FREE!
If that doesn't make sense to you I guess you're the kind of person whos spent a lot of nights sitting at a TV set watching David Letterman and thinking "God! I wish I could have my very own late night talk show!" and cheers to you. But if you're the kind of person who's spent most of his nights sitting at a bar counting spare change and thinking "God! I wish I had enough money to get another beer!" you know just what I mean. And if you're the kind of person who's spent his nights sitting at a bar and watching David Letterman you must be Jon Stewart or a writer for Conan O'Brian, and give me a job, you ass-kissing punk.
Far as I know the only folk singer from The Chameleon who ever went anywhere in the Godawful music biz was the Internationally Beloved (In every nation but Saleebyland) Beck, whose big record Loser had every Chameleon regular going, "Did he write that about me? Huh?! Did that little bastard write that song about me!?! He wrote that about me!!". It never really bugged me cause, as an authentic loser, I know that when you've truly experienced loss, you don't have a "baby" around to say "Why dontcha kill me?" to. If a true loser had written that song it would go "I'm unemployed, lady, so why dontcha pay me ten bucks to wash your car?", which isn't very catchy but that's why I'm washing cars for a living instead of writing pop music like some half-talented... well, loser.
Every show I M.C.'d at The Chameleon followed the same basic format: in between folk singers I'd get up and tell jokes like: "I'm addicted to peanut butter. I've got a monkey stuck to the roof of my mouth," and: "I drink too much coffee. My teeth are so brown that when I rinse and spit I make espresso." Then I'd bring up a folk singer and have a couple of drinks with the bartender while they sang a couple of songs.
"It's interesting how European countries have specific names for their citizens. The Irish are Gaelic, the Germans are Teutonic, the Italians are Neapolitan, and the Swiss are Pussy." |
After they finished I'd get back onstage and tell another couple of jokes like: "I never get to be with the girls I want to be with. I like girls with red hair and fair skin. My girl has fair hair and red skin," and: "It's interesting how European countries have specific names for their citizens. The Irish are Gaelic, the Germans are Teutonic, the Italians are Neapolitan, and the Swiss are Pussy." Then I'd bring up another folk singer and have another couple of drinks with the bartender while they sang another couple of songs.
After the second folk singer was finished I'd get back onstage and ad-lib a couple of jokes like: "Hey, let's hear it for the Goddam bartender, eh!? Yeah! He's the greatest!! You maggots aren't good enough to kiss his ass!! Yeah! Whooo!!!" and: "Oh man, have I gotta take a piss!! Anybody gotta take a piss!?! Not like I gotta take a Goddam piss!! Stay the hell outta my way cause I'll piss all over your dumb folk singin' ass!!! Yeah! Whooo!!!" Then I'd bring up another folk singer and have another couple of drinks while they tried to sing over the bartender and me doing our impressions of Jack Klugman as Oscar Madison in The Odd Couple.
Halfway through the second song I'd jump up onstage and do a little improvisational comedy sketch with the folk singer in which Oscar Madison (played by me), gets fed up with that big douchebag Felix Unger (played by the folk singer), and smashes a chair over his big douchebag forehead. Folk singers have this really funny comedy routine they always do when you smash chairs over their heads: they howl a little bit and blood comes out of their ears and they fall down and flop around on the floor for a while. Me and the bartender thought it was funny, anyway.
I M.C.'d at The Chameleon until, I don't know, either the bartender got fired, or we ran out of chairs, or we ran out of folk singers, I don't know, my memory is shot. I can't remember my mother's birthday, but I'll probably go to my grave knowing which one of The Kids In The Hall was gay. Blame it on the punk rock records I listened to growing up. What's made Seattle famous has made a loser out of me.
"But comics always have a hard time with drugs, folks - First Jerry Lewis fell down trying to get a cheap laugh, hurt his back, and got addicted to Percodan. Then Chevy Chase fell down trying to get a cheap laugh, hurt his back, and got addicted to Percodan. Shit, I'm already addicted to Percodan; why should I bother falling down trying to get cheap laughs out of you bastards? And now, let's have a really big hand for Hey, where'd everybody go?"
Main Archive Table of Contents
July, 1999 Issue Table of Contents
Future of America Midget Convoys Career?
Month In Pictures Moon Over...
Declaration Join The FBI Tips For Living
The American Jerk™ and all contents © 1999 - 2005 by Rob Reuter and Paul St. Fakename, Esq., © 2006 by Rob Reuter.