A personal taste of comedy

Tag archive

work

What I do/don’t want from Comedy

in Comedy by
want from comedy

I think about what I want or don’t want from comedy, and I find that I do this little thing and enjoy the standing up in front of a strange crowd, telling jokes about my past awkwardness and misadventures, while at the same time edge quietly towards being edgy as a host, but I’ve got the feeling my public persona doesn’t fit a profile that either hits the mainstream hard or swims in the obscurity of cult status.

So, to explain my motives, here are my ambitions and avoidances of Comedy:

  • DO: want to eventually be performing in front of big crowds. I feel at home with a lot of people warmed up to the idea of a stock comedian making them laugh.
  • DON’T: want to continue into my 70’s performing in front of tiny open-mic crowds.
  • DO: want to work with talented people I gel with, to brainstorm awesome ideas and create a semblance of community that serves the general public in many forms of entertainment.
  • DON’T: want to work with guys looking for a quick jump-start to short-term fame.
  • DO: want to develop television or radio schemes with others and be part of a creative group with resources to turn it around in a short space of time. I’ve already written a few, need to start pitching it to a talented guy I’ve recently met.
  • DON’T: want to agree to flimsy promises that never take fruit thanks to ignorance.
  • DO: want to write for a magazine, newspaper or website that accepts my unexplored views on everything from life, love to laundry.
  • DON’T: want to be limited only to this blog.
  • DO: want to make the people I love proud, to show that their support for my abilities aren’t unfounded and that they can share in the fruits of my efforts in hichever way they wish.
  • DON’T: want to be told I’ll never make something of myself because I’m white, single, foreign or never attained a degree/diploma (that one was based on funds).
  • DO: want to “stand before kings, and leave a name to be remembered.” – Benjamin Franklin
  • DON’T: want to be forgotten.

Going Offline: Day 54 – Going Online

in Life by
going online

I know, I know, ironic huh? Nelson harped on for ages about his addiction to going online on Facebook and wanted to get off it as it was so time-consuming and affected his relationship with other people, his performance in work, and wrote a few short blog-posts bleeding his heart to the wide world of human beings about his fragile ego needing a rest from a virtual fashion show of people’s lives.

And then he’s back on it.

Well, if you haven’t seen by now, I’m in South Africa spending time with la familia, my dad having been ill for so long and me wanting to be around him before time runs out. But since 2 weeks ago, this I can see will impact greatly on my career in the videogames industry, fragile and precarious as it once was before.

And now, I need Facebook…to contact people.

For all my good intentions of shooting the proverbial shit with my dad and the rest of his brood, no one needs a producer in little ol’ Cape Town, and I found that out the hard way after 2 months of being strung along by someone. It’s time to step up, get off my bum-bum, rewrite my Curriculum Vitae and become a full-fledged rat-race chaser, doing whatever odds and ends necessary to pay for petroleum for a run-down ve-HIC-le that will take me places for work purposes AND for comedic endeavours.

In terms of Facebook, that means being exposed to people again, promoting comedy shows and varying my repertoire, talking to long-lost “pals” and convincing them that I’m a gorgeous good-looking, charming little piece of ass-et that you can’t do without.

AND THEN I’ll be offline, keeping my head down.

So, you can call me a hypocrite for being weak-minded…OR you can stand-up and say, “Nelson…there’s a guy that needs a handyman, I’ll send him your number.”

Yes, yes you can do that.

Cape Town Blog – Waking up to a brand-new world

in Life by
And a wonderful to you all from a finally overcast Cape Town, South Africa.
From my little room I share in my brother’s wonderful house in the suburbs, I woke up dazed and confused early this morning to find two things that perplexes even the most astute of single gentlemen that walk the earth as directionless as I am:
1. A phone call from my sister demonstrating a cheap car on Gumtree called a Ford Lazer (yes, I write this wishing I could show my fingers making the Dr. evil signature move)
2. A black cat called Peanut licking itself in area devoid of appropriate testicular contents.
It’s been a surreal week and a half getting to know my family once again, regaling them with wonderful anecdotes of stories from the colonial master land that is the United Kingdom, and wishing them health and love as best I can without sounding TOO droll. As yet, I have not had the chance to meet up with old friends due to a distinct lack of transport (public utilities usually consists of a man driving a van with a monkey-wrench for a steering wheel) but when I do, I hope it will be fun and interesting.
And yes, hun, I’m still waiting for you to answer.
Monday night saw me perform my first set for over a year at a lovely little bar in Rondebosch, expecting droves of UCT students eager to giggle their sides, and to be fair the 10 guys staring at me gave me the challenge I wanted most: a chance to test my mettle as a all-round entertainer.
And true to their word, they tested me.
Still, it was nice to walk off stage and blokes coming up afterwards saying, “China, you was ace, eh?” followed by a handshake and a shoulder-bump, a clear sign of me being accepted into the audience acumen of approval.
Ever been shoulder-bumped? It’s like an audience Jay Leno nodding and saying you’ll go far.
So today I’ll be setting up a portfolio of shots thanks to a wonderful photographer I know, looking for menial work, openings up the money-grubbing bank account and reading up on the day’s stories for new and exciting material, to mold and shape it into wonderful jokes that will leave them thinking that their lives can be for the better if they look past the errors of yesteryear and just accept that inside, we…are all…pink.
Cape Town, bring it on.
See me Thursday night at the Chilli Bar in Southfield where I’ll be sweating it yet again.
Go to Top