Happy New Year! What's happening beautiful people? Hopefully all is well and your starting the year off with a bang. The last week has been hectic because I was getting ready for knee surgery next week, but the date got pushed back till February 7th, so now I have some time to breath so I figured I'd drop a little note on you.
When I was 11 years old, I was at a friends house who had an older brother that was a heroin junkie. We'd be there practicing Karate forms and the brother would show up stoned and beat us both up. I really didn't like the guy but before he would nod off into palukaville, he would play a particular album and break down the whole dynamic of the bands music, believe it or not it was pretty amazing. From Led Zeppelin 2 to Earth, Wind and Fire, this guy knew his music. After being at his house I would always go out the next day and buy the album he was talking about.
One day I went over there on a Saturday morning and he was high as fuck, nodding and drooling. We, as young kids started to laugh, the older brother woke up and asked us, what the fuck we were laughing about? We shit our pants. Then by some miracle of God he said, I know what you idiots are laughing at, he walked over to the record player and flipped the side of the album over. He said he was sorry. Whatever he was listening to when he passed out must have had something funny on it because he thought we were laughing at the record playing but the side had ended.
He put the needle on the record and sat next to us. I heard some applause then a man introduced someone and after a few minutes a heard a joke, then laughter. This wasn't a band playing music, this was something else. I asked him, what was this? In his haze he looked at me and said, Richard Pryor now shut the fuck up. I'm listening and now I'm laughing, then Pryor starts to curse and I'm loving it then I hear his "Dracula meeting The Wino" bit and my head almost EXPLODED! I started crying because I was laughing so hard but I was crying because I was truly blown the fuck away. Whatever he was doing was brilliant. I went to the store and immediatly bought, "The Nigger's Crazy", the album I had listened to and "Is it Something I Said". I listened to them day and night. I would have sleep overs and listen. At that age it was tricky, you had to put the Pryor album on the turntable, then get a album ready to fall in case an adult walked in. Those early Pryor albums were no jokes, there some real blue material on those albums. He was taking people on some wild rides and I really loved that. I can't remember the emotion it struck but I remember feeling free, I can't describe it.
When I first got in to comedy, I always thought of those albums and felt that I would never be good enough to put out an album, I could only dream. Then in 2000, the CD boom started, every comic started putting out CD's on a label. Then comics figured out they could get a taping device and make CD's on their own and sell them after shows. A few people approached me but I would always say no because of some reason or another, but deep down inside it was because of my insecurities. I would tell myself that when I got as good as Pryor, then I'd make a CD but I knew that would never happen.
Cocaine changes people in weird ways because your forced to do things you wouldn't do under normal circumstances. In 2002, with all my insecirities and an addiction, I was talked into taping a CD. The deal included money up front, and you know me, money talks and bullshit walks. I recorded it at The Icehouse Comedy Cub in Pasadena for this company out of Vegas. When I heard it I cried, it was horrible, who cared? I wasn't going to sell it on the road anyway, that was their job. I snorted the cash they gave me and moved on.
In 2007 my buddies from "National Lampoon Radio" put me together to tape another one. I'm not sure if I was sober when I taped that one, its called, "Live from the 3 of Clubs". It was a good CD, but not my best stuff. I coudn't tap in to my certain patua that night, not to mention that I still felt like shit for taping it because I still wasn't as good as Pryor but I had to put something out there.
I started thinking about my insecurities and Pryor and what it would take to be as good. One thing for sure that was different about him at that time was his writing and the subjects he touched on, they were real. Listen I'm a good comic, my material is so-so but I'm great on my feet, what that means is that I can come up with a funny joke or saying in seconds and hit hard with it. Its a gift that I was depending on too much, yes I had a few 2 line bits, but I couldn't control what I did on stage, it was always a dice shoot, and yes when I killed, I killed, but when I died, I died hard because there was nothing there. I felt I was better than that. Now I knew why I didn't have a career.What good is it if I was funny, if I couldn't express the real me.
Last year," Beauty and DaBeast Podcast" had a show and I figured I'd give it another try at a CD. I wrote a little, I prepared a little and what was the result....pure garbage. That was about the time I started interviewing at different car dealerships. I was going to quit and get a job, then I thought about Pryor. I thought about what he had gone through, the drugs, the women, the trouble but he always prepared. He wrote, others wrote for him and he would put it together. I had been clean off the blow for 3 years at this time and I couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong. You know what it was? The writing! Its everything.
I started writing everyday, not jokes but a biography of sorts because the only way to get water is to open the faucet. Its not writing, its the discipline of sitting down and shutting yourself off to the world, its a different high. From the wrting, I started remembering stories that were buried in my soul by the pain and the drugs. Those are the stories you guys hear today. I was embarrased of them but I started bringing them out and for the first time in my life I felt like a real comedian because I gave light to a situation, no matter how bad it is, and in reality, thats what a comedian does.
So what I'm getting at is this, even though I'm no Pryor at this point in my life, I felt that I could record something that I could be proud of so in December, Lee Syatt, the "Director from Isreal" and myself rented a recorder and taped a show to see what would happen and all the hard work and writing paid off, it's called, "It's Either You or The Priest". It's not bad, I laughed listening to it and if you know me I can't stand listening to myself or seeing myself, so that means a lot.
I'm charging a fin for it and I get about 3 dollars and change so I'm not looking to break nobody, we're just looking to get income to shoot other projects in the future like an upgraded Madflavor'sWorld. The documentary we shot will be released March 17th, and we're trying to make you proud so we're shooting some more footage and taping a 1 man show to surround and give life to the interviews. Lee is a genius and he never disappoints, so strap one on, 2012 is going to be huge ball lickers!
Thank you for reading and for all the love and support. I write these things because at times I wish I could get back 10 years of my life but I can't and I don't want you guys to feel the same way! Go out there and rock your dream, you never know what could happen if you try!
Don't forget! From January 17th -26th, turn on your DVR's I'll be on "General Hospital" and look for me on, "Children's Hospital" on adult swim. Have a great week and remember......STAY BLACK!
P.S. Here is the link to buy and download the CD.....Thank You!
http://store.payloadz.com/details/990138-music-comedy-its-either-you-or-the-priest.html
About Me
- madflavor
- I'm a Comedian who loves to write blogs about my past experiences, no matter what they are.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Thursday, December 29, 2011
WHEN I SEE KIDS LAUGHING.......
What's happening you filthy animals? Hope all is well and your ready for the New Year. Remember, Saturday night is not only the end of the year but its also Knucklehead Central! Every fucking idiot comes out to party and goes home with stitches. How do I know? Thirty years ago, I was one of those fucking idiots, and I saw some bad shit and one night I got the shit knocked out of me so please, be careful, I need you cocksuckers around for 2012, when this party either stops or it ends.
Last Sunday night, Xmas day. Felicia Micheals and her two young boys accompanied me to The Ontario Improv to watch Gabriel Iglesias perform. Felicia approached me about two weeks ago and asked that when I attend Gabriel's yearly Xmas party to do her a favor and get his autograph for her boys that they were fans.
When I arrived at the bash I saw a lot of old friends and after a while I bumped into Gabriel and I thanked him for inviting me and also for what he did for me by putting me on his show. In mid conversation I remembered Felicia's request and I asked him for the autographs, I told him that they were big fans which the kids really are, Felicia told me that they were reciting his jokes and his noise effects. As we were looking for something to sign he said to me, I've got one better. Why don't you bring them to my show in L.A. on the 30th of December and I'll let them come back stage and get Cd's and shirts and stuff? I told them they'd be out of town but why didn't I bring them down to the Xmas day show. I ran it by Felicia and it worked so we went down as agreed.
We got there and within minutes, Gabriel showed up. The place was packed. After the show started, I asked Gabe if I could bring them back now. He said yes so I went and got the boys with Felicia. They were excited. They took pictures and met the other guys, it was great. We waited till Gabe went up on stage and caught his first half hour, it was amazing. I kept watching the boys for there reactions to the jokes, they were loving it. I mean, there on stage was their favorite comic. I felt so happy for what I was watching. These guys were really having a fun. Then I thought, its Xmas day, did I ever do anything like this at that age. The older boy is 12. What did I do for Xmas when I was 12? I couldn't remember. Then I thought to myself 13? What did I do for Xmas for entertainment that particular year?
I was in the 8th grade at McKinley School in North Bergen New Jersey. One of my teachers that year was a cool motherfucker named Wally Lindsey. He was our math teacher but he also doubled as the Mayor of Weehawken, New Jersey. That the town you see when Tony Soprano's car is coming out of the Lincoln Tunnel and its going around the ramp. Anyway, Mayor's usually have suit wearing, College educated guys around them giving them advice and what not and one guy to do his dirty work, Mr. Lindsey's guy was a man by the name of "Turk Jordan". I have no idea what his first name was and I didn't give a shit. He wasn't a big guy or a flashy guy but I knew because of the way I had grown up that this guy had seen some action. Weehawken, at the time was quiet in a way but rough and tumble type place which has some fucked up bars that border the Hudson River. I went to a few of the bars in the area to cop in the early eighties and they weren't fucking around in there. It was just a dark place.
Mr. Lindsey did a lot of good things for us. He really liked me and he knew that the kids I hung out with and myself loved basketball. One way or another he found out that a few of us were looking for tickets for Xmas day when the Philadelphia 76's with Dr.J, played the Knicks with Bernard King. It was going to be great. I didn't get high at the time, I was still in my athletic phase and the kids I was going to the game didn't get high either. Anyway, he suggested that we talk to Turk because he knew certain people that could get him tickets. With that, I contacted Turk and told him about my dillema. He said no problem, he was going to the game anyway so we could ride with him, it was great. We had met him at a couple of school functions with Mr. Lindsey, and he always seemed cool.
Xmas day had finally arrived. I didn't give a fuck about Santa! I was going to see Dr.J! I call Turk bright and early, you know me, I get no answer. An hour later, I try again, and again and nothing. At 5:30PM, my phone rings, its Turk. He said he had a problem with his car, that he was going to meet his friend for the tickets in front of the Garden at 7:00PM, to meet him there. I call Chucky Mac and Whitey O'Donnel and tell them both the situation. Whitey's Grandpa will drive us. We decide on who's going to bring what, a shirt to get signed, a basketball, a picture or poster, that type of shit, we're 13. I do remember that even at 13, we put in like a five time bet to split which was 25 dollars to win or 30 dollars to lose between Whitey and myself.
The whole ride we're super excited, we're yelling about dunks and shots and who's going to guard who. We get there and we see Turk shaking his head. We ask him what's the problem? He tells us his friend didn't show up but that he knew another guy that would let us in for 10 dollars a head then we were on our own. We looked at each other and thought, fuck it, we'll get a seat. We walk up to the doors, Turk knocks, and an old white guy comes out and tells us the deal. We give him the cash and we all start running in like a bunch of mo-mo's with our parka's hoods over our heads and whatever bullshit things we were going to get signed under our arms.
We walk in and Turk knows the drill. He says we can't sit on the floor because people will come and we would get thrown out. He took us to the third level of the place which at the time was pretty empty and we found a row where we could all sit together. The game starts, and nobody shows and we got the row to ourselves. The second quarter starts and thats when the drama started and we got to see the real Turk in action.
Some nice white suburban family decides to sit next to us. Before the game starts he tells us that he bet like 5 grand on the game. I can't remember who he picked but they came out strong. He was already talking about taking us for steaks after the game. After a few minutes, his team starts to lose and he starts yelling, Nigger this, and you cocksucker that, and that white family is turning purple so are the two kids I'm with, I'm a little embarrased but I was a use to it. As a child I went to Met games with my mother and it was just as bad, not the racial slurs but the yelling and cursing, it was terrible.
The Father must have had a problem with his bladder because he kept getting up to go to the bathroom. After the third get up Turk told him to go to the YMCA because he could've gotten more exercise. Then he motherfucked the guy and called him a schlep rock because he was loosing. He told the guy his family was bad luck, they got into a pushing match but security came and broke it up and put the family in a different section. I almost forgot the main component to this story, it didn't matter that Turk was a little drunk or that he was cursing or being of obnoxious what really got me about all this was that he wore the worst tupee you had ever seen in your life. If I had something like that on my head, I wouldn't say a peep!
Not this guy. At half time he tells us he's going for a walk because he saw better seats that were open. We get to the red level which was I think the second level above the floor seats. We find a few chairs and we sit. He's loosing going into half time and he's still fuming. The 3rd quarter starts and he's yelling and screaming, finally security comes over and taps him on the shoulder and tells him to calm down, so what does Turk do? He makes a big deal about the guy touching him and his Amendments and what not. By this point of the night, Chucky and Whitey head's looked like they were about to explode. Again they tell us to move. This time we walk around the whole place in circles while the game is being played. Turk's telling us why he doesn't let or like people tapping him on the shoulder that its rude and if somebody does it again, he's going to knock him out. Finally, we find a space to stand under this taller type partition that people were sitting behind. We're there 15 minutes with no drama. There's like 2 minutes left in the game and Turk is loosing and he starts yelling again. Its a 2 or 3 point spread, a free throw or 2 can win the game and its the last 2 minutes which is like foul central. Its usualy quiet when they shoot, their missing shots now Turk is yelling and cursing at the top of his lungs. I knew someone was going to say something but I really wanted someone to tap him on the shoulder, in a way, we all did.
Not 2 minutes after that, a guy reaches down and taps him on the shoulder, to us 3, it was like time stopped. He grabs the guys fingers and starts cranking them around. Now the guy is yelling, Turk's yelling, its classic. At this point I was scared but at the same time I wanted to laugh because you could never write this shit. Turk lets the guys fingers go and its on, security is coming and we ran out of there all the way to Port Authority. We lost Turk along the way but we didn't give a fuck. We got on a bus and went back through the Tunnel back to Jersey. We were scared at first, then we laughed it off on the bus. When we went back from our school break, we all laughed about it with Mr. Lindsey. He asked us what we were thinking going with Turk? We told him that he had givin us the number but he said he didn't think we would go on with it. At that time is when Mr. Lindsey told us Turk's claim to fame, he once punched Red Auerbach, The Coach of the Bosten Celtics in the face and did time because of it. He was a sports freak. I never saw Turk again till we graduated from the 8Th grade when he brought an old washed up stripper from the roaring 30's to our basketball courts to see if any of us wanted to fuck her as a graduation present. We were all horny, but we all declined. He made her pull up her shirt and show us her fucked up tits and we all ran home crying.
I never forgot that night, and sitting there watching Felicia's kids laughing gave me hope that one day when they're my age, they'll think about the night with Gabe and laugh like I did by myself tonight. I mean the night wasn't as crazy, but laughter is laughter, so who the fuck knows. Here's the strange twist, I haven't spoken to Whitey in 4 years, but Chucky, I spoke to on Sunday and we're going to hook up in Vegas tonight because he is a Head coach of a Men's college team that is playing in a tournament there, fucking fate, did we love hoops or not? I'm also going to try and interview him about this story and put it up on the Beauty And Da Beast Podcast on one of the future episodes.
When we spoke Xmas day, he said he was thinking about me because he was watching the Knicks on TV and he remembered, obviously he remembered the night for different reason, I remember it for what it was, a guy being himself and giving me a memory I never forgot.
Thank you very much for reading, and do me a favor, Have a Happy and Healthy New Year, without you guys, 2012 isn't going to be shit. Much love and remember......Stay Black!
Last Sunday night, Xmas day. Felicia Micheals and her two young boys accompanied me to The Ontario Improv to watch Gabriel Iglesias perform. Felicia approached me about two weeks ago and asked that when I attend Gabriel's yearly Xmas party to do her a favor and get his autograph for her boys that they were fans.
When I arrived at the bash I saw a lot of old friends and after a while I bumped into Gabriel and I thanked him for inviting me and also for what he did for me by putting me on his show. In mid conversation I remembered Felicia's request and I asked him for the autographs, I told him that they were big fans which the kids really are, Felicia told me that they were reciting his jokes and his noise effects. As we were looking for something to sign he said to me, I've got one better. Why don't you bring them to my show in L.A. on the 30th of December and I'll let them come back stage and get Cd's and shirts and stuff? I told them they'd be out of town but why didn't I bring them down to the Xmas day show. I ran it by Felicia and it worked so we went down as agreed.
We got there and within minutes, Gabriel showed up. The place was packed. After the show started, I asked Gabe if I could bring them back now. He said yes so I went and got the boys with Felicia. They were excited. They took pictures and met the other guys, it was great. We waited till Gabe went up on stage and caught his first half hour, it was amazing. I kept watching the boys for there reactions to the jokes, they were loving it. I mean, there on stage was their favorite comic. I felt so happy for what I was watching. These guys were really having a fun. Then I thought, its Xmas day, did I ever do anything like this at that age. The older boy is 12. What did I do for Xmas when I was 12? I couldn't remember. Then I thought to myself 13? What did I do for Xmas for entertainment that particular year?
I was in the 8th grade at McKinley School in North Bergen New Jersey. One of my teachers that year was a cool motherfucker named Wally Lindsey. He was our math teacher but he also doubled as the Mayor of Weehawken, New Jersey. That the town you see when Tony Soprano's car is coming out of the Lincoln Tunnel and its going around the ramp. Anyway, Mayor's usually have suit wearing, College educated guys around them giving them advice and what not and one guy to do his dirty work, Mr. Lindsey's guy was a man by the name of "Turk Jordan". I have no idea what his first name was and I didn't give a shit. He wasn't a big guy or a flashy guy but I knew because of the way I had grown up that this guy had seen some action. Weehawken, at the time was quiet in a way but rough and tumble type place which has some fucked up bars that border the Hudson River. I went to a few of the bars in the area to cop in the early eighties and they weren't fucking around in there. It was just a dark place.
Mr. Lindsey did a lot of good things for us. He really liked me and he knew that the kids I hung out with and myself loved basketball. One way or another he found out that a few of us were looking for tickets for Xmas day when the Philadelphia 76's with Dr.J, played the Knicks with Bernard King. It was going to be great. I didn't get high at the time, I was still in my athletic phase and the kids I was going to the game didn't get high either. Anyway, he suggested that we talk to Turk because he knew certain people that could get him tickets. With that, I contacted Turk and told him about my dillema. He said no problem, he was going to the game anyway so we could ride with him, it was great. We had met him at a couple of school functions with Mr. Lindsey, and he always seemed cool.
Xmas day had finally arrived. I didn't give a fuck about Santa! I was going to see Dr.J! I call Turk bright and early, you know me, I get no answer. An hour later, I try again, and again and nothing. At 5:30PM, my phone rings, its Turk. He said he had a problem with his car, that he was going to meet his friend for the tickets in front of the Garden at 7:00PM, to meet him there. I call Chucky Mac and Whitey O'Donnel and tell them both the situation. Whitey's Grandpa will drive us. We decide on who's going to bring what, a shirt to get signed, a basketball, a picture or poster, that type of shit, we're 13. I do remember that even at 13, we put in like a five time bet to split which was 25 dollars to win or 30 dollars to lose between Whitey and myself.
The whole ride we're super excited, we're yelling about dunks and shots and who's going to guard who. We get there and we see Turk shaking his head. We ask him what's the problem? He tells us his friend didn't show up but that he knew another guy that would let us in for 10 dollars a head then we were on our own. We looked at each other and thought, fuck it, we'll get a seat. We walk up to the doors, Turk knocks, and an old white guy comes out and tells us the deal. We give him the cash and we all start running in like a bunch of mo-mo's with our parka's hoods over our heads and whatever bullshit things we were going to get signed under our arms.
We walk in and Turk knows the drill. He says we can't sit on the floor because people will come and we would get thrown out. He took us to the third level of the place which at the time was pretty empty and we found a row where we could all sit together. The game starts, and nobody shows and we got the row to ourselves. The second quarter starts and thats when the drama started and we got to see the real Turk in action.
Some nice white suburban family decides to sit next to us. Before the game starts he tells us that he bet like 5 grand on the game. I can't remember who he picked but they came out strong. He was already talking about taking us for steaks after the game. After a few minutes, his team starts to lose and he starts yelling, Nigger this, and you cocksucker that, and that white family is turning purple so are the two kids I'm with, I'm a little embarrased but I was a use to it. As a child I went to Met games with my mother and it was just as bad, not the racial slurs but the yelling and cursing, it was terrible.
The Father must have had a problem with his bladder because he kept getting up to go to the bathroom. After the third get up Turk told him to go to the YMCA because he could've gotten more exercise. Then he motherfucked the guy and called him a schlep rock because he was loosing. He told the guy his family was bad luck, they got into a pushing match but security came and broke it up and put the family in a different section. I almost forgot the main component to this story, it didn't matter that Turk was a little drunk or that he was cursing or being of obnoxious what really got me about all this was that he wore the worst tupee you had ever seen in your life. If I had something like that on my head, I wouldn't say a peep!
Not this guy. At half time he tells us he's going for a walk because he saw better seats that were open. We get to the red level which was I think the second level above the floor seats. We find a few chairs and we sit. He's loosing going into half time and he's still fuming. The 3rd quarter starts and he's yelling and screaming, finally security comes over and taps him on the shoulder and tells him to calm down, so what does Turk do? He makes a big deal about the guy touching him and his Amendments and what not. By this point of the night, Chucky and Whitey head's looked like they were about to explode. Again they tell us to move. This time we walk around the whole place in circles while the game is being played. Turk's telling us why he doesn't let or like people tapping him on the shoulder that its rude and if somebody does it again, he's going to knock him out. Finally, we find a space to stand under this taller type partition that people were sitting behind. We're there 15 minutes with no drama. There's like 2 minutes left in the game and Turk is loosing and he starts yelling again. Its a 2 or 3 point spread, a free throw or 2 can win the game and its the last 2 minutes which is like foul central. Its usualy quiet when they shoot, their missing shots now Turk is yelling and cursing at the top of his lungs. I knew someone was going to say something but I really wanted someone to tap him on the shoulder, in a way, we all did.
Not 2 minutes after that, a guy reaches down and taps him on the shoulder, to us 3, it was like time stopped. He grabs the guys fingers and starts cranking them around. Now the guy is yelling, Turk's yelling, its classic. At this point I was scared but at the same time I wanted to laugh because you could never write this shit. Turk lets the guys fingers go and its on, security is coming and we ran out of there all the way to Port Authority. We lost Turk along the way but we didn't give a fuck. We got on a bus and went back through the Tunnel back to Jersey. We were scared at first, then we laughed it off on the bus. When we went back from our school break, we all laughed about it with Mr. Lindsey. He asked us what we were thinking going with Turk? We told him that he had givin us the number but he said he didn't think we would go on with it. At that time is when Mr. Lindsey told us Turk's claim to fame, he once punched Red Auerbach, The Coach of the Bosten Celtics in the face and did time because of it. He was a sports freak. I never saw Turk again till we graduated from the 8Th grade when he brought an old washed up stripper from the roaring 30's to our basketball courts to see if any of us wanted to fuck her as a graduation present. We were all horny, but we all declined. He made her pull up her shirt and show us her fucked up tits and we all ran home crying.
I never forgot that night, and sitting there watching Felicia's kids laughing gave me hope that one day when they're my age, they'll think about the night with Gabe and laugh like I did by myself tonight. I mean the night wasn't as crazy, but laughter is laughter, so who the fuck knows. Here's the strange twist, I haven't spoken to Whitey in 4 years, but Chucky, I spoke to on Sunday and we're going to hook up in Vegas tonight because he is a Head coach of a Men's college team that is playing in a tournament there, fucking fate, did we love hoops or not? I'm also going to try and interview him about this story and put it up on the Beauty And Da Beast Podcast on one of the future episodes.
When we spoke Xmas day, he said he was thinking about me because he was watching the Knicks on TV and he remembered, obviously he remembered the night for different reason, I remember it for what it was, a guy being himself and giving me a memory I never forgot.
Thank you very much for reading, and do me a favor, Have a Happy and Healthy New Year, without you guys, 2012 isn't going to be shit. Much love and remember......Stay Black!
Friday, December 23, 2011
HOLIDAY LESSONS!
What's happening beautiful people? We have arrived, the season is right up on us. By tomorrow night you'll be sitting at someone's home or they'll be sitting at your's and after the hugs and the bullshit and a few eggnogs you're thinking, What The Fuck! Another Xmas added to my resume and in the words of John Lennon, what have I done? This is fucking amazing. I have a family and a job and a life and a few skeletons but who cares we're still here! So what we're broke and in the daily grind, this is why we do it, for times like this. I never understood that early on in my life, I thought it was about money and presents, then something happened on the way to the dance that I'll never forget.
As you know, I did a little time in my youth. Sometimes if you're lucky, you get to spend it inside during the holidays. I sat there the beginning of November thinking, Thanksgiving is going to suck but it turned out to be all right. We had turkey and what not and the meat was dryer than a motherfucker but since it was minumin security, we were allowed to bring in food, so I got together with some other invicts and we had our own little party, Nutter Butters and Tamales and home made nacho's with the cheeses that gets melted by the hot bar in an iron, Yummy and fun, I made it and it made me forget about what I was missing but I still dreaded Xmas, what will I do. I would cry to myself like a little bitch at night. By that time the death of my mother was starting to sink in and I felt guilty about where I had ended up. I had let her down, not to mention myself.
It was 88' and Aids was spreading like wildfire. Rock Hudson had givin it light but no one really knew much about it. By that time the government was getting slack for proper housing and facilities, so one of the things they had to do was to segregate prisoners with the disease in prisons, so one of the facilities they had set up where at our prison. They housed about 6 guys in there own barracks that was beautiful. We all lived in old barracks but they one they had for them was spotless, the walls were painted and they had a couple of microwaves which at the time were gold in a place like that, new furniture and a huge color TV.
I had met a couple of the guys in the gym and they would always invite me over. I can't lie, I was apprehensive because like others, I didn't know the limitations of the desease. I think four of them were heroin addicts and the other two were gay but they were Gangster gay. The one dude ran a national drug ring that supplied heroin and something like Ecstacy. Finally an Italian mobster guy from Cleveland named Serafino took me over there. He liked to cook and as long as the guys got food, they didn't care. He was a bookmaker that also ran his action out of the Aids unit. He really loved those guys. On Sundays, he would cook and we'd watch the games, then we'd go back to our units and rest a while and come back to watch, Married With Children and America's Most Wanted and we'd cheer for the bad guys, it became a weekly ritual.
It was Xmas eve and I was down in the dumps. I hear a knock on my window and its Serafino telling me that theres going to be action at the Aids unit to come by. I told him I wasn't in the mood. He said that they were making a spread and that one of the guys had smuggled in a couple of gallons of wine. The Guards were really scared of the gay guys so they would never come over, and since it was a Holiday, no one would test us for alcohol for a couple of days. I told him I would be over in a few. I got a good cry out, wiped my eyes and thought to myself, why not? Let me walk over and say hello.
When I walked in the place was decorated to the nines. They didn't have a tree, so the made one from branches and what not. They had music blasting and there was food everywhere. Cold cuts, cookies, Tamales, nachos, all homemade. They got a VCR and had movies and a few pornos. They were singing and laughing. There were no drugs and I didn't drink but a half hour in, I sat down and looked around, these guys were having fun, especially the guys with Aids. Here I was feeling sorry for myself and I was surrounded by men who had a death sentence on them, and didn't exactly know there future and to boot, were locked up but they were celebrating like they were getting out, I was blown away!
It got late and I remember saying my good bye's and the guys hugging me and telling me it was great that I had come over, that I had made there night but walking out I started to think that these guys had made my night go by painless but that they had also givin me a new outlook on life and that was that no matter how bad life gets, one person could make it better and that person is you. These guys didn't give a fuck about there situations. There were no gift exchanges, there was no fancy wine or fancy silver ware or people talking about there vacations, the only thing that was in that room was happiness and in reality, that was the last place I would look for it or think that I could find it.
Thank you very much for reading and from the bottom of my heart have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and thank you for the love and support you've shown me in the last year, its the reason I wake up some mornings! Much Love and STAY BLACK!
2012 is going to be beautiful!
R.I.P. James "Fat James" Price.
As you know, I did a little time in my youth. Sometimes if you're lucky, you get to spend it inside during the holidays. I sat there the beginning of November thinking, Thanksgiving is going to suck but it turned out to be all right. We had turkey and what not and the meat was dryer than a motherfucker but since it was minumin security, we were allowed to bring in food, so I got together with some other invicts and we had our own little party, Nutter Butters and Tamales and home made nacho's with the cheeses that gets melted by the hot bar in an iron, Yummy and fun, I made it and it made me forget about what I was missing but I still dreaded Xmas, what will I do. I would cry to myself like a little bitch at night. By that time the death of my mother was starting to sink in and I felt guilty about where I had ended up. I had let her down, not to mention myself.
It was 88' and Aids was spreading like wildfire. Rock Hudson had givin it light but no one really knew much about it. By that time the government was getting slack for proper housing and facilities, so one of the things they had to do was to segregate prisoners with the disease in prisons, so one of the facilities they had set up where at our prison. They housed about 6 guys in there own barracks that was beautiful. We all lived in old barracks but they one they had for them was spotless, the walls were painted and they had a couple of microwaves which at the time were gold in a place like that, new furniture and a huge color TV.
I had met a couple of the guys in the gym and they would always invite me over. I can't lie, I was apprehensive because like others, I didn't know the limitations of the desease. I think four of them were heroin addicts and the other two were gay but they were Gangster gay. The one dude ran a national drug ring that supplied heroin and something like Ecstacy. Finally an Italian mobster guy from Cleveland named Serafino took me over there. He liked to cook and as long as the guys got food, they didn't care. He was a bookmaker that also ran his action out of the Aids unit. He really loved those guys. On Sundays, he would cook and we'd watch the games, then we'd go back to our units and rest a while and come back to watch, Married With Children and America's Most Wanted and we'd cheer for the bad guys, it became a weekly ritual.
It was Xmas eve and I was down in the dumps. I hear a knock on my window and its Serafino telling me that theres going to be action at the Aids unit to come by. I told him I wasn't in the mood. He said that they were making a spread and that one of the guys had smuggled in a couple of gallons of wine. The Guards were really scared of the gay guys so they would never come over, and since it was a Holiday, no one would test us for alcohol for a couple of days. I told him I would be over in a few. I got a good cry out, wiped my eyes and thought to myself, why not? Let me walk over and say hello.
When I walked in the place was decorated to the nines. They didn't have a tree, so the made one from branches and what not. They had music blasting and there was food everywhere. Cold cuts, cookies, Tamales, nachos, all homemade. They got a VCR and had movies and a few pornos. They were singing and laughing. There were no drugs and I didn't drink but a half hour in, I sat down and looked around, these guys were having fun, especially the guys with Aids. Here I was feeling sorry for myself and I was surrounded by men who had a death sentence on them, and didn't exactly know there future and to boot, were locked up but they were celebrating like they were getting out, I was blown away!
It got late and I remember saying my good bye's and the guys hugging me and telling me it was great that I had come over, that I had made there night but walking out I started to think that these guys had made my night go by painless but that they had also givin me a new outlook on life and that was that no matter how bad life gets, one person could make it better and that person is you. These guys didn't give a fuck about there situations. There were no gift exchanges, there was no fancy wine or fancy silver ware or people talking about there vacations, the only thing that was in that room was happiness and in reality, that was the last place I would look for it or think that I could find it.
Thank you very much for reading and from the bottom of my heart have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and thank you for the love and support you've shown me in the last year, its the reason I wake up some mornings! Much Love and STAY BLACK!
2012 is going to be beautiful!
R.I.P. James "Fat James" Price.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
KILLING TIME
What's happening beautiful people? Hope all is well in your lives. I'm sorry I haven't written much but I've been busy. Can you believe there are only 6 more shoplifting days till Xmas? I can't believe the season is upon us, all you can do is sit back and enjoy.
I was sitting there yesterday looking at the calender and I noticed it was the 16th. As usual I thought about the date, it didn't ring a bell but the 18th did, its my friend Devo's birthday and also on that date in 83', I burglarized some chic dealers house in Aspen for a score but there was more, what was it? It was the night I won the Beck's Comedy Competition in Boulder twenty years ago, in reality, that was the turning point in my life.
The first time I got on stage in a legitimate comedy club was July of 91'. I tried it because I wanted to see what it was like. I asked around and it seemed like it took a while to get established and there was a lot of starving involved in the process. At the time I had a wife and a child and I had been out of prison about 18 months and it just did not seem viable. It was a rush though, the lights, the people laughing, the applause, you walk off stage feeling like Superman. I was 28 at the time and I had done every drug but that feeling that stage had givin me was mind boggling, then you come down and you think about your past and your family and the people around you at the time and say, fuck it, I'm a loser, I could never do that and there you are.
The next day I went back to my job and my life and that was that. At lunch that week I picked up a local paper and in the entertainment section there was an add for a Comedy Contest that was going to be held at this Bar-Restaurant that I had been to in the past called, The Broker, they had a tremendous Sunday brunch and the place was kind of fancy. I made a mental note but in my heart because of my situation I would be wasting my time.
That September I took a trip back to New Jersey alone to see some friends for a few days. While I was back there, I decided to go into The City one night and watch an open mike where comedians would go up. It was in a Bar in Hell's Kitchen and it lasted till about 3AM. I remember walking out of there and deciding that when I would return to Boulder, I was going to try that contest, regardless of my situation.
I got back to Boulder and immediately called the club and tried to get on the contest, they told me no, I had to have some type of reference or a tape or some shit so there went my dream. But before I could mourn it I ran into another problem, my wife and I decided that it was best if she moved out for a while to give us a breather because we really were unhappy together. I was looking for something but I didn't know what it was and she was in the same dillema. We had a child together but something was definately missing, I was sad but at the same time I knew this could be the answer to my problems.
A few weeks later I'm at a friends scoring coke or someshit and I'm telling him about this contest and how I couldn't get into the contest because this or that and he stops me and says, that guy is my buddy, I'll give him a call on Monday and I'll ask him, in the back of my mind I'm thinking, this is the coke talking, so I took it with a grain of salt. Monday night my phone rings and its my boy telling me to call the guy and he'll put me up. I get the number and call, he answers and tells me to come by the next day. How much time do I need to do? He tells me five minutes and I almost shit myself, it would take me all night to write five minutes, I thanked him, hung up and got to work.
The next night I show up with a suit and some fucked up material about Godzilla attacking New York and believe it or not, I won, not the contest but an opportunity to come back and advance to the finals, which were in December on the 18th to be exact. At the time it was the beginning of November so I had time to prepare.
For months I watched every stand up tape I could rent. I wrote with out knowing anything and I got on stage whenever I could, bombing and getting stared at and boo'd at every shit hole venue I would go up at. The only place I did half way decent were the poetry readings at the hippie joints in Boulder because they were stoned and would just sit there and smile, it was a nightmare.
Finally the night came. I showed up nervous as fuck. There would be four other comedians and myself and they all looked better than me, in more ways than one. My insecuritie levels were higher than usual. I couldn't think from the fear. I didn't have a wife or a child anymore, I had no job because it was working with her brothers, I had no formal training in anything but crime, I had no savings, I had no family, I was an ex convict and in reality, I had nothing but myself and the sense of humor that kept me from blowing my fucking brains out at the age of sixteen when I realized I was alone in this world and right there at that moment I thought to myself, I'm going to be alone up on that stage, thats my specialty. I could do this and with that some fucking magician comes up to me and says, your next!
I don't remember what I said on that stage but those fuckers were howling for five minutes straight or at least thats how it seemed to me. When I got off the stage by the looks of the other comics faces, I knew I had won. The judges had to count the votes and then they would announce it but there was drama. One of the comedians told one of the judges that I wasn't an open miker because I had gotten paid to do a gig months earlier. I was in shock! The gig in question was an open mike in some shit hole bar in Greely were the booker would give you five dollars for gas because of the distance. They decided I wasn't a professional and I won the contest and the Five Hundred dollars which at the time felt like a half million because I had earned it without a gun or a scale. It was all me. I made copies of the check and stapled it to my Comedy resume at the time, I was such a fucking geek!
That dumb night made me realize that I was something more than a junkie thief. I couldn't believe I could get paid for making people laugh. I decided to give it a year until something else came along and nothing ever did come along, but here I am. Its so stupid to think that a contest decided my fate and set the path to who I am today. Even if I wouldn't have won that night, knowing who I was back then still would have made me a winner because I went out of my comfort zone, I had nothing and I had nothing to lose so I went for it and what I really got wasn't a career it was a purpose, which in turn overcame all the stupid shit I was doing and the purpose won. That's the real reason I'm always in a good mood in the morning, because I know things could've turned out a lot different.
Thank you very much for reading and thank you for all the support and the love. I hope you and your families have a great Holiday! I love you all of you ball lickers......Stay Black!
I was sitting there yesterday looking at the calender and I noticed it was the 16th. As usual I thought about the date, it didn't ring a bell but the 18th did, its my friend Devo's birthday and also on that date in 83', I burglarized some chic dealers house in Aspen for a score but there was more, what was it? It was the night I won the Beck's Comedy Competition in Boulder twenty years ago, in reality, that was the turning point in my life.
The first time I got on stage in a legitimate comedy club was July of 91'. I tried it because I wanted to see what it was like. I asked around and it seemed like it took a while to get established and there was a lot of starving involved in the process. At the time I had a wife and a child and I had been out of prison about 18 months and it just did not seem viable. It was a rush though, the lights, the people laughing, the applause, you walk off stage feeling like Superman. I was 28 at the time and I had done every drug but that feeling that stage had givin me was mind boggling, then you come down and you think about your past and your family and the people around you at the time and say, fuck it, I'm a loser, I could never do that and there you are.
The next day I went back to my job and my life and that was that. At lunch that week I picked up a local paper and in the entertainment section there was an add for a Comedy Contest that was going to be held at this Bar-Restaurant that I had been to in the past called, The Broker, they had a tremendous Sunday brunch and the place was kind of fancy. I made a mental note but in my heart because of my situation I would be wasting my time.
That September I took a trip back to New Jersey alone to see some friends for a few days. While I was back there, I decided to go into The City one night and watch an open mike where comedians would go up. It was in a Bar in Hell's Kitchen and it lasted till about 3AM. I remember walking out of there and deciding that when I would return to Boulder, I was going to try that contest, regardless of my situation.
I got back to Boulder and immediately called the club and tried to get on the contest, they told me no, I had to have some type of reference or a tape or some shit so there went my dream. But before I could mourn it I ran into another problem, my wife and I decided that it was best if she moved out for a while to give us a breather because we really were unhappy together. I was looking for something but I didn't know what it was and she was in the same dillema. We had a child together but something was definately missing, I was sad but at the same time I knew this could be the answer to my problems.
A few weeks later I'm at a friends scoring coke or someshit and I'm telling him about this contest and how I couldn't get into the contest because this or that and he stops me and says, that guy is my buddy, I'll give him a call on Monday and I'll ask him, in the back of my mind I'm thinking, this is the coke talking, so I took it with a grain of salt. Monday night my phone rings and its my boy telling me to call the guy and he'll put me up. I get the number and call, he answers and tells me to come by the next day. How much time do I need to do? He tells me five minutes and I almost shit myself, it would take me all night to write five minutes, I thanked him, hung up and got to work.
The next night I show up with a suit and some fucked up material about Godzilla attacking New York and believe it or not, I won, not the contest but an opportunity to come back and advance to the finals, which were in December on the 18th to be exact. At the time it was the beginning of November so I had time to prepare.
For months I watched every stand up tape I could rent. I wrote with out knowing anything and I got on stage whenever I could, bombing and getting stared at and boo'd at every shit hole venue I would go up at. The only place I did half way decent were the poetry readings at the hippie joints in Boulder because they were stoned and would just sit there and smile, it was a nightmare.
Finally the night came. I showed up nervous as fuck. There would be four other comedians and myself and they all looked better than me, in more ways than one. My insecuritie levels were higher than usual. I couldn't think from the fear. I didn't have a wife or a child anymore, I had no job because it was working with her brothers, I had no formal training in anything but crime, I had no savings, I had no family, I was an ex convict and in reality, I had nothing but myself and the sense of humor that kept me from blowing my fucking brains out at the age of sixteen when I realized I was alone in this world and right there at that moment I thought to myself, I'm going to be alone up on that stage, thats my specialty. I could do this and with that some fucking magician comes up to me and says, your next!
I don't remember what I said on that stage but those fuckers were howling for five minutes straight or at least thats how it seemed to me. When I got off the stage by the looks of the other comics faces, I knew I had won. The judges had to count the votes and then they would announce it but there was drama. One of the comedians told one of the judges that I wasn't an open miker because I had gotten paid to do a gig months earlier. I was in shock! The gig in question was an open mike in some shit hole bar in Greely were the booker would give you five dollars for gas because of the distance. They decided I wasn't a professional and I won the contest and the Five Hundred dollars which at the time felt like a half million because I had earned it without a gun or a scale. It was all me. I made copies of the check and stapled it to my Comedy resume at the time, I was such a fucking geek!
That dumb night made me realize that I was something more than a junkie thief. I couldn't believe I could get paid for making people laugh. I decided to give it a year until something else came along and nothing ever did come along, but here I am. Its so stupid to think that a contest decided my fate and set the path to who I am today. Even if I wouldn't have won that night, knowing who I was back then still would have made me a winner because I went out of my comfort zone, I had nothing and I had nothing to lose so I went for it and what I really got wasn't a career it was a purpose, which in turn overcame all the stupid shit I was doing and the purpose won. That's the real reason I'm always in a good mood in the morning, because I know things could've turned out a lot different.
Thank you very much for reading and thank you for all the support and the love. I hope you and your families have a great Holiday! I love you all of you ball lickers......Stay Black!
Monday, November 21, 2011
KIDNAPPING
Hello beautiful people! Its a great week for a holiday. I can't wait for Thursday, I'm not doing dick. The usual, a little exercise in the morning, stop by the reefer store, some turkey with my wife, some football, then I make my rounds. To boot, I'm staying in a mile radius this year because I don't want to be in a car all day like a cab driver, no drama!
Anyway, last Friday I wrote a post about me kidnapping that poor bastard 24 years ago. When I looked at the calender that morning it dawned on me like it does every year. Its a scary day for me, thats why I post it, a day that I will never forget because of the good and bad that came out of it. For years I would look at the date and cringe, for years I never mentioned it. This all went down in 87, I went to prison in 88. After I got out besides the people that were close to me, I told no one. For reasons I didn't understand, I think the main was my embarrassment. I always thought I was a street smart guy and a little intelligent, how could this and how did I let this happen?
I could've blamed it on the blow and my childhood but I didn't, I knew what I was doing. I look at a lot of people and I could tell if their bullshitting about a situation or if their bullshitting themselves, the latter is the worst because its not confidence, its a voice. How can I tell? That was me, bullshitting myself . When I look at a guy like Chris Brown for example. I knew he was bullshitting before the incident so when something happened I wasn't surprised because he didn't know who the fuck he was. He's on TV talking about growing up watching his mother get beat up, he hates this and he hates that but I knew he was just talking, Bamm! A year later he's beating up the singer and now he's in the public spotlight again and he still ain't right so he'll fuck up again, give him time.
I know these things because that was me at 26, talking shit about what I was going to do with my future but deep down inside, I didn't know who I was. At the time, this kidnapping fell in my lap, I was doing fine with my life. I had a great job, I was making great dough. I had a great place to live and a nice girlfriend and for the first time in years, peace! Why would I try to rob two kilo's of coke with two knuckleheads to boot? I figured I could make a score and go back to Jersey to do what the fuck I was doing before....Nothing! Why?
In my mind I guess I had no purpose. I always thought I would end up in jail and when I did I realized, that wasn't the life for me. I remember towards the end of the afternoon with those two idiots that I got involved with. There was a point that I had decided that this was a mistake and I was going to get caught. I went out to the trunk to get a peice I had hidden and I was going to shoot, the both of them, I remember hearing the buzzing in my ears and feeling my blood pressure rising but till this day I can't explain the energy that stopped me. At first I thought I was weak and I pussy but I figured out I was there so I wasn't a pussy, that thought, that minute was what made me change my life, not the prison, or the time inside or the confusion, but the reason why I didn't shoot those two, my heart wasn't into it but I thought it was. I thought because of this death and that death of my family and close friends and the other things I saw my step dad do as a child, like shoot Nico on 148th Street, and the things I saw and was exposed to in my mothers bar were enough to pull but it wasn't because I had never bought into it fully in my heart, that wasn't who I was and thats why I'm here today.
There is a scene in the movie "Scarface" when Tony tells Sosa that he never fucked nobody over that didn't have it coming to them. I could say that for the victim Vella but I can't. He was involved at some level but he didn't deserve the things that happened to him that afternoon. Unlike myself, he didn't learn. After our situation he got involved in a different robbery and this time they gave him a beating. I saw him last in 93' in Boulder when I was trying to cop some coke in some bar. I apologized, and he accepted but he was mess, don't get me wrong, I was fucked up, but he was gone. I always thought about him after that. So when I found him on Facebook last year and tried to reconnect, he didn't respond.
I don't want to break his balls I just want to let him know that I'm sorry. I paid my debt to society, to myself and now I just wanted to let him know, the bigger the man, the bigger the mistake. I hope you guys don't read me wrong, as a comedian, I had to give this light. It was killing me inside and confronting it made me a better man. The events that led up to that and how I was never going to get myself in a situation like that again were the emphasis of the lesson. I never knew I was still going to be learning from it 24 years later. Sometimes something bad is something good, you just have to wait and watch it unravel, thats the only reason why I mention it!
Thank you for reading and for all your support. I'll be at The Madhouse Comedy Club in San Diego this weekend 2 shows per night @ 8pm and 10pm call 619 702 6666 for reservations. I'll also be taping a CD @ The Brea Improv on Tuesday December 6th @ 8PM 714 482 0700 come on down.
I hope you guys have a safe and great holiday! Much Love but most importantly......STAY BLACK!
Anyway, last Friday I wrote a post about me kidnapping that poor bastard 24 years ago. When I looked at the calender that morning it dawned on me like it does every year. Its a scary day for me, thats why I post it, a day that I will never forget because of the good and bad that came out of it. For years I would look at the date and cringe, for years I never mentioned it. This all went down in 87, I went to prison in 88. After I got out besides the people that were close to me, I told no one. For reasons I didn't understand, I think the main was my embarrassment. I always thought I was a street smart guy and a little intelligent, how could this and how did I let this happen?
I could've blamed it on the blow and my childhood but I didn't, I knew what I was doing. I look at a lot of people and I could tell if their bullshitting about a situation or if their bullshitting themselves, the latter is the worst because its not confidence, its a voice. How can I tell? That was me, bullshitting myself . When I look at a guy like Chris Brown for example. I knew he was bullshitting before the incident so when something happened I wasn't surprised because he didn't know who the fuck he was. He's on TV talking about growing up watching his mother get beat up, he hates this and he hates that but I knew he was just talking, Bamm! A year later he's beating up the singer and now he's in the public spotlight again and he still ain't right so he'll fuck up again, give him time.
I know these things because that was me at 26, talking shit about what I was going to do with my future but deep down inside, I didn't know who I was. At the time, this kidnapping fell in my lap, I was doing fine with my life. I had a great job, I was making great dough. I had a great place to live and a nice girlfriend and for the first time in years, peace! Why would I try to rob two kilo's of coke with two knuckleheads to boot? I figured I could make a score and go back to Jersey to do what the fuck I was doing before....Nothing! Why?
In my mind I guess I had no purpose. I always thought I would end up in jail and when I did I realized, that wasn't the life for me. I remember towards the end of the afternoon with those two idiots that I got involved with. There was a point that I had decided that this was a mistake and I was going to get caught. I went out to the trunk to get a peice I had hidden and I was going to shoot, the both of them, I remember hearing the buzzing in my ears and feeling my blood pressure rising but till this day I can't explain the energy that stopped me. At first I thought I was weak and I pussy but I figured out I was there so I wasn't a pussy, that thought, that minute was what made me change my life, not the prison, or the time inside or the confusion, but the reason why I didn't shoot those two, my heart wasn't into it but I thought it was. I thought because of this death and that death of my family and close friends and the other things I saw my step dad do as a child, like shoot Nico on 148th Street, and the things I saw and was exposed to in my mothers bar were enough to pull but it wasn't because I had never bought into it fully in my heart, that wasn't who I was and thats why I'm here today.
There is a scene in the movie "Scarface" when Tony tells Sosa that he never fucked nobody over that didn't have it coming to them. I could say that for the victim Vella but I can't. He was involved at some level but he didn't deserve the things that happened to him that afternoon. Unlike myself, he didn't learn. After our situation he got involved in a different robbery and this time they gave him a beating. I saw him last in 93' in Boulder when I was trying to cop some coke in some bar. I apologized, and he accepted but he was mess, don't get me wrong, I was fucked up, but he was gone. I always thought about him after that. So when I found him on Facebook last year and tried to reconnect, he didn't respond.
I don't want to break his balls I just want to let him know that I'm sorry. I paid my debt to society, to myself and now I just wanted to let him know, the bigger the man, the bigger the mistake. I hope you guys don't read me wrong, as a comedian, I had to give this light. It was killing me inside and confronting it made me a better man. The events that led up to that and how I was never going to get myself in a situation like that again were the emphasis of the lesson. I never knew I was still going to be learning from it 24 years later. Sometimes something bad is something good, you just have to wait and watch it unravel, thats the only reason why I mention it!
Thank you for reading and for all your support. I'll be at The Madhouse Comedy Club in San Diego this weekend 2 shows per night @ 8pm and 10pm call 619 702 6666 for reservations. I'll also be taping a CD @ The Brea Improv on Tuesday December 6th @ 8PM 714 482 0700 come on down.
I hope you guys have a safe and great holiday! Much Love but most importantly......STAY BLACK!
Monday, November 7, 2011
THE MESSAGE
What's happening beautiful people? Another fun filled week is upon us. I'm happy I'm not that busy this morning so I could write and fullfill one of my weekly obligations. Can you believe Thanksgiving is in two weeks? Between you and me, I'm excited! Fuck it Turkey and reefer, who's better than you.
I was telling you last week that November has always been my month of knowledge. The biggest lessons that I've learned have come from this month in the weirdest ways, kind of in a karmatic sense. Lessons that have always made me stop and think about what is really out there. Have you ever watched a movie or TV show and right before a person dies he'll tell you his or her dying wish or in a sense, a meaning of life as they see it in their final moments on the planet. In the real world, its that DMT going to work and I appreciate that, but I had those experiences happen to me, in a different way.
Marylin Martinez was a dear friend and a great comedian. She wasn't known and didn't have her own TV show but she was very funny when she got on a roll. I met her in 95' at The Laugh Factory, but we tightened our relationship at The Comedy Store. I was great friends with her husband also. We spent holidays together and we'd be on the phone busting each others balls in the day time.
Marylin was diagnosed with Cancer in March of 2007'. They put her in the hospital and she went in and out of there until she died on November 3rd of that year. I went to the hospital a few times but when she went home I visited more because I felt more comftable there. I'm not crazy about hospitals is the reason. One day we're chatting about this and that. I could see the death in her eyes in hindsight. It was a few months before she passed, she's telling me that if she were to beat the cancer and get on stage again that she would never work dirty, with that she turned her attention to me, looked me in the eyes and told me to please stop doing cocaine. That I had a lot of things going for me and that I should stop so I wouldn't end like her. I could feel the goosebumps when the words came out. I was stunned, she knew all my intimate secrets. She would hold the powder for me when I first started dating my wife Terrie. Marylin knew how bad my habit really was and in all those years she never mentioned it. Here she was not really on her deathbed but she had one foot in a grave and the other on a banana peel, if you catch my drift and she's telling me to stop.
I stayed a while, kissed her and left. I saw her a few times after that and she never mentioned it but believe me, because of my past and how I was raised, I knew right there at that moment that I had to stop but I didn't. It was about 4 months later that I quit, the week she died. If thats not a message, I don't know what is. Today I miss her dearly and she is someone I pray for and to on a daily basis. Happy 4th Anniversary in HEAVEN Cocksucker!!! Thank you for what you did. I have to wipe my face now and get it together.
Thank you for reading. If you ever get a message, follow it to a T! Its coming from a different level! Much Love but most importantly.....Stay Black!
I was telling you last week that November has always been my month of knowledge. The biggest lessons that I've learned have come from this month in the weirdest ways, kind of in a karmatic sense. Lessons that have always made me stop and think about what is really out there. Have you ever watched a movie or TV show and right before a person dies he'll tell you his or her dying wish or in a sense, a meaning of life as they see it in their final moments on the planet. In the real world, its that DMT going to work and I appreciate that, but I had those experiences happen to me, in a different way.
Marylin Martinez was a dear friend and a great comedian. She wasn't known and didn't have her own TV show but she was very funny when she got on a roll. I met her in 95' at The Laugh Factory, but we tightened our relationship at The Comedy Store. I was great friends with her husband also. We spent holidays together and we'd be on the phone busting each others balls in the day time.
Marylin was diagnosed with Cancer in March of 2007'. They put her in the hospital and she went in and out of there until she died on November 3rd of that year. I went to the hospital a few times but when she went home I visited more because I felt more comftable there. I'm not crazy about hospitals is the reason. One day we're chatting about this and that. I could see the death in her eyes in hindsight. It was a few months before she passed, she's telling me that if she were to beat the cancer and get on stage again that she would never work dirty, with that she turned her attention to me, looked me in the eyes and told me to please stop doing cocaine. That I had a lot of things going for me and that I should stop so I wouldn't end like her. I could feel the goosebumps when the words came out. I was stunned, she knew all my intimate secrets. She would hold the powder for me when I first started dating my wife Terrie. Marylin knew how bad my habit really was and in all those years she never mentioned it. Here she was not really on her deathbed but she had one foot in a grave and the other on a banana peel, if you catch my drift and she's telling me to stop.
I stayed a while, kissed her and left. I saw her a few times after that and she never mentioned it but believe me, because of my past and how I was raised, I knew right there at that moment that I had to stop but I didn't. It was about 4 months later that I quit, the week she died. If thats not a message, I don't know what is. Today I miss her dearly and she is someone I pray for and to on a daily basis. Happy 4th Anniversary in HEAVEN Cocksucker!!! Thank you for what you did. I have to wipe my face now and get it together.
Thank you for reading. If you ever get a message, follow it to a T! Its coming from a different level! Much Love but most importantly.....Stay Black!
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
DIAS DE LOS MUERTOS
What's happening beautiful people? I'm back! Midweek like a motherfucker but what can you do? Like I said I'm trying to write a couple of blogs per week because I'm having a hard time writing comedy so if your stuck remember, if you want the water to flow, you have to open up the faucet, so here I am.
November has always been a fucked up month for me because its the month that changed my life in so many ways. My mother passed in November, so did a good friend named, Marilyn Martinez. I commited my biggest blunder of my life in 88' when I kidnapped Vella in November and I also stopped doing coke after 30 years of action in November, you catch my drift? Good and bad has happened. All of it came with a lesson so I wonder what lesson I'll learn this year.
Anyway out of respect for "Dias De los Muertos", I want to tell you guys a story about a friend of mine who passed about 11 years ago that I think about everyday of my life, his name was Darren Rago.
I met Darren when we were both in the 8th grade playing CYO basketball. I played for St.Michaels of Union City and he played for Our Lady of Libra in West New York. He was always sweet, loud and crazy, a hell of a combination. He was five foot two, what do you want to do! He would fight anybody. We both went to North Bergen high where we just became tighter as we got older. We both lived with pain at an early age. Darren's parents had split up and it really bothered him, I on the other hand had just lost a mother, I was confused and scared so it made for a perfect frienship, we watched each others back.
We hung with each other everyday but ran with different crews, it didn't matter because by the end of the night we would always end up together, in the city, or at someones apartment snorting up a storm talking about our dreams and the things we wanted from life. In reality, we were two kids on the wrong path but it didn't matter, we had each other if shit ever got crazy.
The other day while I was on the JRE podcast I spoke about my fear of blood and in the car on the way home I remembered a night when we were seniors in High school. It was the night of the senior awards, you know, best looking, best dancer, that shit. While most kids were preparing for the big night we were putting together dough to get a quarter ounce of coke, sell an eightball and snort the rest. There were four of us involved, Glen Conty, Fernie Basulto, Roger Holloway and myself.
We went into Harlem to get the quarter, from ther we went back to Jersey to meet a friend of ours Sabatino. His father owned a huge liquor store and Sabo would steal the extra set of keys and when the store closed, we'd be there ten minutes later getting are ammunition for the night. On that particular evening we decided on a few cases on Lowenbrau and a huge bottle of tequila, we were going for broke.
I forget but we ended going to someones house to get the party started, then we were going to go by the High school, catch the award show and head to some after party at a bar somewhere. We got so fucked up that we missed the show. We ended up going to a bar in Union City on twenty second street. I can't remember the name of the place, what I do remember was that the bar was across the street from Rehman's Funeral home. At the time it also doubled as the County morgue and thats where I had to go to pick up my mom's body so walking into this joint gave me the creeps as it was. Not to mention years earlier I would come to this same bar to pick up THC Crystal, the designer drug of the time. What I'm trying to say is that this bar was the real deal.
I get in there, order a drink, and I see Darren. He's fucked up and ask if I'm holding? I say yes, we go to the bathroom and do a few bumps. On the way out he told me he could get me a few qualudes, I agreed, gave him some dough and now it was really on! We walk back into the crowd and I loose Darren. I go back to hanging with my friends and before you know it the lude hits and I'm gone. Its last call and a fight breaks out. It was two guys no worries, I forgot where I was within minutes, everybody was fighting, glasses are breaking, chairs are flying, its on!
I remember throwing punches, I remember getting hit, I remember being on the floor, then I remember getting cornered by a guy holding me at bay with a broken Heineken bottle, thats when I woke up out of my haze. The guy is swinging this bottle at me and its coming close. I'm up against the wall with my back, his next swipe would definately cut me, then out of nowhere I see Darren come flying and he tackles the guy. We both get him down take the bottle from him and smack him around a little.
We see the cop lights so we decide to get out the back way. As were walking out, we both look over at the bar and its packed with cash that the people left on the bar when they ran out. We took what we could then went outside. The cops had people in handcuffs and they were trying to get the story of what had happened? I had no idea.They told me to get the fuck home as I started to walk away my shoe was making a funny noise like it was wet, everytime I stepped it made a squishy sound. I hobble to the car as I'm taking off the shoe I could see that my sock was red! The whole bottom of the sock was covered in blood. I looked at Darren and told him I was going to faint, he laughed and told me to do a bump that the coke would kill the faint. As I was going to take the coke out of my pocket I felt my legs going and that was that, I went down!
Minutes later I woke up to Darren telling me it was going to be all right. As I was coming to, I noticed that Darren was doing a bump of my coke. I looked at him and asked him what he was doing? He said a bump, I ain't fainting like you. We both laughed, walked to the car and he drove me home in his car with no heat that we called the icebox and that was that.
That is just one of our any stories which I will cherish for ever especially today. I look at Darren's picture every morning and think about the great times we had. He's been gone for 12 years now but he'll never be dead to me because in a way he lives in my heart. Thats how I feel about everyone who has passed and was there for me in one way or another. My day is always better because I know there with me looking over me, I know it sounds stupid but its my inspiration everyday.
Sit and think about someone who was special to you and is gone now. Today is there day. Light a candle, say a prayer and smile, there right next to you! Thank you reading and have a great week.
November has always been a fucked up month for me because its the month that changed my life in so many ways. My mother passed in November, so did a good friend named, Marilyn Martinez. I commited my biggest blunder of my life in 88' when I kidnapped Vella in November and I also stopped doing coke after 30 years of action in November, you catch my drift? Good and bad has happened. All of it came with a lesson so I wonder what lesson I'll learn this year.
Anyway out of respect for "Dias De los Muertos", I want to tell you guys a story about a friend of mine who passed about 11 years ago that I think about everyday of my life, his name was Darren Rago.
I met Darren when we were both in the 8th grade playing CYO basketball. I played for St.Michaels of Union City and he played for Our Lady of Libra in West New York. He was always sweet, loud and crazy, a hell of a combination. He was five foot two, what do you want to do! He would fight anybody. We both went to North Bergen high where we just became tighter as we got older. We both lived with pain at an early age. Darren's parents had split up and it really bothered him, I on the other hand had just lost a mother, I was confused and scared so it made for a perfect frienship, we watched each others back.
We hung with each other everyday but ran with different crews, it didn't matter because by the end of the night we would always end up together, in the city, or at someones apartment snorting up a storm talking about our dreams and the things we wanted from life. In reality, we were two kids on the wrong path but it didn't matter, we had each other if shit ever got crazy.
The other day while I was on the JRE podcast I spoke about my fear of blood and in the car on the way home I remembered a night when we were seniors in High school. It was the night of the senior awards, you know, best looking, best dancer, that shit. While most kids were preparing for the big night we were putting together dough to get a quarter ounce of coke, sell an eightball and snort the rest. There were four of us involved, Glen Conty, Fernie Basulto, Roger Holloway and myself.
We went into Harlem to get the quarter, from ther we went back to Jersey to meet a friend of ours Sabatino. His father owned a huge liquor store and Sabo would steal the extra set of keys and when the store closed, we'd be there ten minutes later getting are ammunition for the night. On that particular evening we decided on a few cases on Lowenbrau and a huge bottle of tequila, we were going for broke.
I forget but we ended going to someones house to get the party started, then we were going to go by the High school, catch the award show and head to some after party at a bar somewhere. We got so fucked up that we missed the show. We ended up going to a bar in Union City on twenty second street. I can't remember the name of the place, what I do remember was that the bar was across the street from Rehman's Funeral home. At the time it also doubled as the County morgue and thats where I had to go to pick up my mom's body so walking into this joint gave me the creeps as it was. Not to mention years earlier I would come to this same bar to pick up THC Crystal, the designer drug of the time. What I'm trying to say is that this bar was the real deal.
I get in there, order a drink, and I see Darren. He's fucked up and ask if I'm holding? I say yes, we go to the bathroom and do a few bumps. On the way out he told me he could get me a few qualudes, I agreed, gave him some dough and now it was really on! We walk back into the crowd and I loose Darren. I go back to hanging with my friends and before you know it the lude hits and I'm gone. Its last call and a fight breaks out. It was two guys no worries, I forgot where I was within minutes, everybody was fighting, glasses are breaking, chairs are flying, its on!
I remember throwing punches, I remember getting hit, I remember being on the floor, then I remember getting cornered by a guy holding me at bay with a broken Heineken bottle, thats when I woke up out of my haze. The guy is swinging this bottle at me and its coming close. I'm up against the wall with my back, his next swipe would definately cut me, then out of nowhere I see Darren come flying and he tackles the guy. We both get him down take the bottle from him and smack him around a little.
We see the cop lights so we decide to get out the back way. As were walking out, we both look over at the bar and its packed with cash that the people left on the bar when they ran out. We took what we could then went outside. The cops had people in handcuffs and they were trying to get the story of what had happened? I had no idea.They told me to get the fuck home as I started to walk away my shoe was making a funny noise like it was wet, everytime I stepped it made a squishy sound. I hobble to the car as I'm taking off the shoe I could see that my sock was red! The whole bottom of the sock was covered in blood. I looked at Darren and told him I was going to faint, he laughed and told me to do a bump that the coke would kill the faint. As I was going to take the coke out of my pocket I felt my legs going and that was that, I went down!
Minutes later I woke up to Darren telling me it was going to be all right. As I was coming to, I noticed that Darren was doing a bump of my coke. I looked at him and asked him what he was doing? He said a bump, I ain't fainting like you. We both laughed, walked to the car and he drove me home in his car with no heat that we called the icebox and that was that.
That is just one of our any stories which I will cherish for ever especially today. I look at Darren's picture every morning and think about the great times we had. He's been gone for 12 years now but he'll never be dead to me because in a way he lives in my heart. Thats how I feel about everyone who has passed and was there for me in one way or another. My day is always better because I know there with me looking over me, I know it sounds stupid but its my inspiration everyday.
Sit and think about someone who was special to you and is gone now. Today is there day. Light a candle, say a prayer and smile, there right next to you! Thank you reading and have a great week.
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