May 12, 2012 set
I’m always nervous when I do stand-up comedy. More nervous than the Romney dog when it’s time to go on a family vacation in Canada. Barack Obama’s new campaign slogan is, “A chicken in every pot and a drone strike in every Pakistani village.” The Obama campaign is raising money by selling Barack Obama dildos. They’re long on promises and short on deliver. Obama promises to get even tougher on terrorists in his second term. He’s even going to hunt down hope and change and kill them too. He just got rid of Bo, the Portuguese water dog in the White House and replaced him with Mo, the CIA waterboarding dog. Hilary Clinton has written a sequel to her book, “It Takes a Village.” The new book is called, “It takes a drone strike to wipe out a village.” Hilary wore a bracelet in India to support the war against sex traffic: “Real men don’t pay for sex.” Bill Clinton wore a bracelet that said, “Real men pay for cigars.”
How many dead Muslim terrorists does it take to screw in a light bulb? That’s a trick question. They’re all died in a drone strike. A Muslim terrorists, a Christian terrorist and a Buddhist terrorist walk into a bar. The bartender asks the Muslim terrorist, “What’ll you have?” The Muslim terrorist says, “Death and destruction.” The Christian terrorist says, “Death and destruction.” The Buddhist terrorist says, “Death and destruction.” That was not a joke. That was a public service announcement promoting tolerance brought to you by the Columbia Broadcasting System. CBS cares. The only problem with underwear bombs: the skidmarks.
They found a finger in an Arby’s sandwich. In other news, they found two penises in a Kim Kardashian sandwich. Oh, wait a minute, that’s not news. Insert your own joke here. I want to be the first man to put his penis in a VCU football cheerleader’s vagina - because that would be the Richmond equivalent of being the first man on the moon. You can now buy a Justin Bieber singing toothbrush for $9.95 at Walgreens. Now you AND Selena Gomez can have Justin Bieber in your mouth.
The prophet Muhammed had a nine-year-old wife. This inspired a knock-knock joke. “Knock, knock?” “Who’s there?” “Muhammed.” “Muhammed who?” “Muhammed who’s a sex offender.” “Knock, knock.” “Who’s there?” “The Olsen Twins.” “The Olsen Twins who are too old for a Muhammed sandwich.” “Knock, knock.” “Who’s there?” “Miley Cyrus.” “Miley Cyrus who?” “Miley Cyrus who’s middled-aged.” What do you call a Texas Muslim who’s on a Holy War? A Yee-hadist.
My mother just died. I want to say she’s in a better place but she’s in Alabama. Mitch Hedberg came to me in a dream and told that joke would be too soon? My name is Chris Martin. Be sure and tip your bartender.
May 5, 2012 set
I’m always nervous when I do stand-up comedy. How nervous? More nervous than a prostitute on a date with a Secret Service agent. A Confederate Secret Service agent got in trouble with a Columbian prostitute - he paid - but with Confederate money. What’s worse, he kept saying he would rise again - but he never did. Newt Gingrich promised to put a base on the moon but he dropped out of the presidential race.
I’m still running for president and I promise to put a base on Mars - with three-breasted prostitutes, the way God and Arnold Schwarzenegger intended. Three-breasted prostitutes - no wonder the Secret Service is willing to take a bullet for me. Barack Obama was in Richmond today to unveil his new campaign slogan, “A chicken in every pot and a drone strike in every Pakistani village.” Obama promised to get even tougher on terrorists. In fact, he just got rid of Bo, the Portuguese water dog in the White House and replaced him with an CIA waterboarding dog.
I watch a lot of insurance commercials on TV. It’s hard to say which would be worse to sit on your face, the Elephant from Elephant Insurance, the AFLAC duck, or Flo from Progressive Insurance. I want to be the first man to put his penis in a VCU football cheerleader’s penis, because that would the Richmond equivalent of being the first man on the moon - or the first Secret Service agent to sleep with a three-breasted prostitute on Mars. I got a email from Playboy and the subject line read, “Sexy Playboy girls want you,” which piqued my interest. But when I opened it, it said, “to stop paying for Hugh Hefner’s Viagra.” Kind of a letdown - like Hugh Hefner’s penis - and mine.
It’s a second anniversary of the Gulf oil spill. I’m an eco-terrorist so I retaliate by jerking off in BP bathrooms. A guy named Mr. PeePee plans to masturbate in all 298 New York City Starbucks. I won’t be impressed unless they’re double shots. Looks like I’m going to have to have a root canal. I’ve already spent $3,000 on dental work. For that kind of money, I want Scarlett Johanssen in my mouth, not some middle-aged guy from Federicksburg.
What’s the difference between a tramp stamp and a sleeve tattoo? None, they’re both right next to assholes. What’s the difference between a horse’s tail and a pony tail on a middle-aged guy. None, they’re both right next to assholes.
Thank you. It’s been a gas. Be sure and tip your bartender, ____. Welcome back to the stage, …
Saver: Mitch Hedberg came to me in a dream and said that joke would suck.
[video]
My April 2, 2012 set
This is an audience participation set. After I say a joke, I want you to say, these are new jokes, people. Everyone enjoy Saint Patrick’s Day? Saint Patrick drove the snakes out of Ireland. Sadly, he was unable to drive the Roman Catholic priests out of the altar boys’ anuses. Guinness says it’s ale is brewed in Dublin. That explains why it tastes like priest penis, willful ignorance and ancient hatreds. You can now buy Justin Bieber singing toothbrushes for $9.99 at Walgreens. This means you AND Selena Gomez can have Justin Bieber in your mouth.
Janeane Garofalo made a movie in Ireland called “The Matchmaker.” Like the movie, this joke isn’t funny. Janeane also starred in a movie called “Ratatoulle” about rats cooking in a French restaurant. To get into character for the movie Janeane had a rat live in her public hair. The good news: the rat ate all the crabs.
I just got back from a rally for women’s health in front of the Supreme Court along with a group from Planned Parenthood. I’m glad Planned Parenthood is fighting back because I was beginning to think they were a bunch of pussies. The FDA has banned the use of Avastin to treat cervical cancer. Which is confusing, because I thought Avastin was used to treat erectile dysfunction in pirates.
I used to think Louis C.K. was a faggot because he kept talking about faggots. Now that he dropped out as host of the White House Correspondents’ Dinner because he he said nasty things about Sarah Palin, I just think he’s a pussy. The Western Black Rhino is officially extinct. Cause of death: too many assignments to Starship Enterprise landing parties. Support the troops. Kill an innocent Afghan civilian. “The Hunger Game” is a very popular movie. I’m thinking about moving to Somalia because I understand they play the hunger games for real.
That title is a Firesign Theatre reference. Although not as famous as Monty Python, the Firesign Theatre was just as brilliant if not more so They were a San Francisco comedy collective in the sixties and seventies who made a series of brilliant albums. Sadly, Peter Bergman of the group just died. While going to Knox College 1967-1971, I had all their records.
OK, I promised I would send this newsletter out on a monthly basis. So much for that. At this point, I’m just going to try to put it out whenever I can. The big news is that I’ve shifted my emphasis, focusing less on maintaining an online presence and more on performing and writing. Right now, performing is my first priority and writing, second. If I can find time to post some video and audio, that’s fine but lately I haven’t. Right now, most of my online effort goes into my Twitter feed, with an emphasis on comedy but I also throw in some politics as well. There is a school of thought that says three-year open micers shouldn’t have a web site or a CD. I’m a two to two-and-half-year open micer, depending on how you calculate it. I have a web site but that has more to do with the fact that just about every project I’ve been involved with I start a web site as a matter of reflex. I occasionally post transcripts of sets but that’s pretty much limit of online efforts these days.
In my last newsletter, I speculated that last summer may have been the high water mark for Richmond, Virginia stand-up comedy. Once again, my forecasting abilities leave something to be desired (I once predicted that Steve Jobs would fumble his second coming at Apple based on his dismal performance at NeXT). Since I wrote that, three open mics have started up, all of them running every week, a blistering pace for Richmond, which is used to open mics twice a month. One is at Daddio’s in Henrico County every Tuesday, the Current restaurant in the Hat Factory every Wednesday, and the third at Pie in the Fan every Saturday. A weekly show at the Republic has also started.
Three years ago, I went to my first open mic, which had just started, at Sticky Rice in Richmond’s Fan District. There were about ten regulars. It has reached the point where it’s getting difficult to keep track of who’s involved in the scene and what they’re up to. It’s not that I’m not interested in what other people are doing, but I don’t have the time to spend on Facebook following what everyone, time that I could spend performing or writing. So I have to rely on gossip at open mics to stay abreast.
This is going to sound like heresy, because the conventional wisdom is to get up on stage as much as possible, but it has reached the point where I’m going to have to pick and choose which open mics to go to. I don’t want to be one of those comics who shows up and drinks water, and there are plenty of those - you have to wonder how they got so morbidly obese, because they never eat anything at these shows - because I know that bars and restaurants aren’t doing this out of altruism.
That’s it for now. I’ll try and pick up the pace in future newsletters.
My February 29, 2012 set
I’m always nervous when I do stand-up comedy. How nervous? More nervous than a U.S. Navy delphin searching for mines in the Strait of Hormuz. More nervous than Janeane Garofalo walking by a Brazilian waxing salon. I miss the good old days of the Oscar red carpet when Joan Rivers slagged Janeane Garofalo for looking like a thrift store explosion survivor. Zach Galifianakis says in a red carpet interview that his Oscar pre-show ritual consists of Janeane Garofalo massaging his prostate with a strap-on. The great thing about Tim Gunn kissing Jennifer Lopez’s ass is that there’s so much ass to kiss. An ABC red carpet analyst says Michelle Williams’ look “just killed it for me.” So that’s what happened to Heath Ledger. Bradley Cooper on the red carpet. Cooper’s girlfriend’s nickname for his penis is “Mini-Cooper.” Nick Nolte was a walking testimonial for the health benefits of peyote.
If rubbing two sticks together makes fire, what does rubbing two assholes together produce? Answer: an Oscar award presentation team. Angela Jolie presented the Oscar for best adapted screenplay. I love the smell of Botox in the evening. The Oscar-winning documentary shows plastic surgeons rehabilitating hideously scarred women in Pakistan yet Angela Jolie still walks the surface of the planet. Hard to say who’s more draggy, Emma Stone or Ben Stiller. Still waiting for them to present the Oscar for best anal penetration in a VCU coed. I want to be the first man to put his penis in a VCU football cheerleader’s vagina, because that would be the Richmond equivalent of being the first man on the moon. Another presenter: Gwyneth Paltrow. Is it wrong to imagine Gwyneth Paltrow being gang-raped by the cast of “Caged Heat”? I always thought the best “Mission Impossible” was the one in which Scientology tried to turn Tom Cruise into a heterosexual.
Another presenter was Milla Jovovich. Whoa, I thought Milla Jovovich was filming “Resident Evil 12 - I slept with the director and all I got was this lousy movie.” Nobody stands in better for Hollywood’s self-congratulatory mediocrity better than Tom Hanks. The camera picked out James Earl Jones in the crowd. James Earl Jones is one damaged chromosome away from becoming the next Roger Ebert. Another presenter was Natalie Portman. Her best performance was as best child actress abused by Hollywood for the amusement of Roman Polanski in “The Professional.” Another presenter was UVA grad Tina Fey. I’m looking forward to Tina Fey’s sequel to “Bossy Pants,” “Incontinent Pants.”
WTF?! The French recognize Jerry Lewis and we honor the director of “The Artist.”
OK, Glenn Close playing a man was a big fake-out but not as big a fake-out as Barack Obama as hope and change in the 2008 election. The Mentalist is so perceptive he can actually tell the difference between Glenn Close and Meryl Streep. Meryl Streep won best actress for her role at Margaret Thatcher in “The King’s Baitch.” Who says it doesn’t get better? Maya Rudolph and Kristen Wiig trade dick jokes during presentation of best live action short film award. Woody Allen wins an Oscar for “Midnight in Paris.” Whose 16-year-old adopted daughter do I have to sleep with to win an Oscar? Melissa McCarthy was up for best supporting actress in “Bridesmaid.” You could heat a city if you burned Melissa McCarthy’s brown fat. Octavia Spencer won best supporting actress in “The Help.”If I wanted to watch a liberal white guilt trip, I’d pop in a DVD of “The Tim Kaine Story.”
Did someone win an award and thank their cat? I’m nodding off like Janeane Garofalo after a heroin overdose. One hour Oscar time equals 99 years in “Inception” dream time. Billy Crystal’s joke are so corny. I haven’t seen anyone hacking this badly since Janeane Garofalo’s smoker’s cough. Nicolae Ceaușescu’s fate would be too kind for the joke writers for the Oscars. Ellen DeGeneres talking about a really bad smell during an Oscar commercial is giving me Portia de Rossi yeast infection flashbacks.
I don’t have a big closer so I’m just going to open my zipper and expose myself, Be sure and tip your bartender.
February 16, 2012 set
I’m always nervous when I do stand-up comedy. How nervous? More nervous than a U.S. Navy dolphin looking for Iranian mines in the Strait of Hormuz. More nervous than Janeane Garofalo walking by a Brazilian waxing salon.
My penis sent a card to my hand on Valentine’s Day but my hand tore it up — so my penis cut him off. I want to be the first man to put his penis in a VCU football cheerleader. That would be like being the first man on the moon.”Virginia is for lovers” is the state slogan but the state practiced eugenics, prosecuted mixed race couples and enshrines gay discrimination in constitution. But what really gets my blood boiling about Virginia’s puritanical laws is the ABC’s rules against nudity and touching in strip clubs. I had to call the cops at 4 in the morning the other night. Apparently they’re filming an episode of “Real Hot Mess Housewives of Richmond, VA” in the apartment below me.
Support the troops. Shoot an innocent Afghan civilian. Supreme Court judge gets robbed. Earlier nine thieves dressed in black broke into Florida and stole Al Gore’s presidency.
Number of “Houston, we have a problem” jokes on Twitter: 7,843,265. I would say that Whitney Houston is in a better place but she’s in New Jersey. Bobby Brown immediately called Chris Brown for his list of beat freaks. Chris Brown was all over the Grammys like bruises all over Rihanna. Chris Brown won the Grammy for best Rhythm & Black & Blues album. Rihanna performed with Coldplay. Who says it doesn’t get better? After Chris Brown, Rihanna needed an ice pack. Now she just needs a Coldplay. The award for Best Rehabilitation of a Woman Beater goes to the Grammys. Watch your Grammy, people. She may be shitting herself.
I watched the Grammies Sunday night and I still don’t know who won for best comedy album. Presumably because no one gives a shit who won. What, no wardrobe malfunctions, potty mouth or artificial controversies which fill the coffers of the American Family Association at the Grammys? Fuck my life. After this year’s lackluster Grammy Awards, host LL Cool J should not only go back to Cali - he should go back to Mali. I’m losing interest in the Grammy Awards faster than Tony Bennett loses an erection.
Paul McCartney performed at the end of the Grammy Awards. He hasn’t been this excited since stabbing John Lennon in the back. Diana Ross hasn’t been this excited since she stabbed another Supreme in the back. Speaking of has-beens, I saw a commercial about a movie with Jennifer Aniston. Jennifer Aniston is still making movies? I thought she was now a full-time celebrity.
I felt that Lady Reconstruction should have presented the award for Best Record of the Year instead of Lady Antebellum. Heavy D won a Grammy for Best Tweet from Beyond the Grave. Nicki Minaj’s performance at the Grammys was vomit-inducing. More proof there isn’t a God: Nicki Minaj is still alive and Etta James is dead. I thought Drake was going to reveal who shot Tupac Shakur and Biggie Smalls. What a letdown.
Jay-Z and Kanye West couldn’t accept their Grammy for best rap single. They were too busy counting their money. Alicia Keys announces the latest winner of the Ric Ocasek Award. If you got that joke, you’re the most culturally literate person in the room. Bruno Mars was all up in Uranus. Apparently that thing on top of Donald Trump’s head has reproduced and attached itself to Bruno Mars’ head.
To get into the spirit of Katy Perry’s performance at the Grammy Awards, I strapped on my fake breasts. The Beach Boys Grammy tribute put a Woodie into a Surfer Girl. Is that legal? It just isn’t a Beach Boys reunion without their father, Murry Wilson, taking a belt to one of the boys. Wikipedia that joke. Bruce Springsteen asked the musical question, “Why don’t I give all my money to the poor and STFU?”
Jack Black was outside the Grammys talking about indie cred. WTF. Jack Black has indie cred after “Gulliver’s Travels”? Jack Black has indie cred after “King Kong”? Who says the American Dream is dead? Even mediocre garage bands like the Foo Fighters can grow up to play and win at the Grammys.
Stand-up comedian Chris Martin’s set at the 9:55 Comedy Club’s open mic February 6, 2012 and Daddio’s, the Current, McCormack’s Irish Pub and Pie in Richmond, VA:
Our next comedian refuses to watch any Super Bowl that doesn’t have a team playing with a derogatory Native American nickname.
I’m always nervous when I do stand-up comedy. How nervous? My mouth is dryer than Betty White’s vagina.
The Mentalist is so perceptive he can actually tell the difference between gladiatorial combat and football. I’m trying to decide which is more homo-erotic: “Spartacus,” the Super Bowl or the H&M David Beckham Body Armor ad. I got into the real spirit of the Super Bowl by holding my tailgate party at the traumatic brain injury unit of the Mayo Clinic. I really wanted to be at Charlie Sheen’s Super Bowl tailgate party, snorting cocaine off the whale tails of porno stars.
I don’t know about you, but the most exciting moment of the Super Bowl for me was when a Miami Dolphin ran onto the field, raped Tom Brady and then ran up into the sky boxes and raped Giselle Bundchen and Rush Limbaugh.
I kept waiting for the commercials to end and the football to begin so I can take a leak. I had a Super Bowl movement or as I like to call it, spiking it in the end zone, if you know what I mean. David Beckham appeared in an ad showing a lot of skin for H&M Body Armor. Finally, an asshole with more tattoos than Janeane Garofalo. I want to apologize for calling David Beckham and Janeane Garofalo assholes. I meant to call them douchebags. Godaddy’s Super Bowl commercial had a semi-nude Danica Patrick shooting an elephant, Kim Dotcom and founder Bob Parsons in the foot. Great Apple Super Bowl ad with Steve Jobs in gym shorts running through a Chinese assembly line, throwing tiny hammers though iPad screens. The Apple sky box at the Super Bowl has spicy hot chicken wings with hexane. They’re hawwt. Clint Eastwood did a commercial for Chrysler, driving around Detroit in a Gran Torino with Clyde the Orangutan riding shotgun. Holy crap, did Clint Eastwood get a tracheotomy and a lobotomy? He’s one vocal cord away from sounding like Robert Kennedy Jr. I live in Byrd Park and I heard someone screaming all the way over in Carytown. It was just Ray Bullock having an orgasm during “The Marvel Avengers” Super Bowl ad. Ad for “John Carter,” the movie about the Edgar Rice Burroughs character on Mars. I’m really psyched about the special guest appearance by Jar Jar Binks.
Super Bowl half-time shows were a lot better when Leni Riefenstahl directed them. A last minute addition to the Super Bowl half time show: George Orwell and GoDaddy founder Bob Parsons in an elephant shooting contest.The most exciting moment during the Super Bowl half time show: Madonna’s wardrobe malfunction when her hip replacement popped out. Madonna has a new designer perfume which smells like wrinkled labia and creative exhaustion but they love the smell of it in Hollywood.
Singer Seal spotted on the sidelines of the Lingerie Bowl scouting for his next wife. To honor Mitt Romney, all participants in the Lingerie Bowl wore sacred underwear and only ran plays in the missionary position.
Eli Manning is going to Disney World. All those NFL cheerleaders who moonlight as strippers are just going to Orlando.
Saver: Mitch Hedberg came to me in a dream and said that joke would suck.
January 25, 2012 set at Comedy @ the Current in Richmond, VA and various other places:
I’m always nervous when I do stand-up comedy. How nervous? More nervous than a ham hock around Paula Deen. More nervous than Sandra Bullock on an Italian cruise. More nervous than a U.S. Navy dolphin looking for Iranian mines in the Strait of Hormuz. More nervous than a 10-year-old boy in a Penn State locker room shower. More nervous than an Afghan in a United States Marine Corps latrine. But I’m also excited. How excited? More excited than Herman Cain on a date with John Huntsman’s daughters.
Newt Gingrich is surging - IN HIS PANTS. Newt’s second wife claims he wanted an open relationship. For years, Newt Gingrich stayed away from WiFi because he thought it was short for Wife Fidelity. Gingrich will leave Florida January 31 but plans to return during Spring Break to do a “Candidates Gone Wild” video. Ron Paul doesn’t expect to win the Florida primary. However, he does plan to issue a position paper on the role of the early bird special in Austrian economics.
Mitt Romney raised more money from billionaires than Barack Obama. Finally, he can afford days-of-the-week sacred underwear. Nightline says Mitt has a bank account in the Cayman Islands. I have a piggy bank buried on Brown’s Island. The other candidates have criticized Romney for being a venture capitalist. You know you’re a vulture capitalist when Newt Gingrich, Rick Perry and Montgomery Burns call you a vulture capitalist. Romney auditioned for “Undercover Boss,” but no one wanted to watch an episode in which everyone got fired in the end. People criticize Romney for driving to Canada with the family dog on the roof of the car. The final straw was when Romney drove from New Hampshire to South Carolina with Newt Gingrich strapped on the hood. Romney observed Martin Luther King Jr. Day by driving from Memphis to Myrtle Beach with a striking sanitation worker on the roof of his car.
Florida strip clubs observe MLK day, which gives a whole new meaning to the phrase, “The South will rise again.” King would be spinning in his grave but he’s too busy getting a lap dance from Rosa Parks. Mitt Romney’s opponents beat up on him so badly he’s asked his relatives to smuggle him into Mexico. Michelle Obama appeared on iCarly. Romney retaliated by appearing as an extra in “I, Robot.” Romney compared to a robot; Obama compared to Spock. I can’t tell whether I’m watching CNN or the Syfy Channel. Romney uses Kid Rock’s “Born Free” as his campaign song. If he were an honest politician, he would have chosen “Fuck You Blind.” I want to apologize for saying Romney changed positions more often than Pamela Anderson. He’s changed positions more often than Jenna Jameson. Romney says he’ll do well in Florida because the state has always welcomed flip-floppers. Romney’s plan B is he’s not elected president: marry the Huntsman girls and star in a reality TV version of “Big Love.”
Porn sites don’t black out to protest the Stop Online Piracy Act like Wikipedia. Instead, they doubled their buffering rate. The difference between cable tv and internet porn: with cable tv, you pay for shows you used to watch for free. With internet porn, you watch shows for free that you used to pay for.
I don’t understand the outrage over U.S. Marines urinating on Taliban corpses. They were just peebowing. That was a piss-poor pun. I’m sure the same thing happened in Vietnam. They don’t call it triple-canopy jungle for nothing. This leaves a stain on the Marine Corps but I’m sure they’ll be able to shake it off. Committing atrocities in Iraq, descrating corpses in Aghanistan. The USMC is adding a verse to their anthem, “from Haditha to uretha.”
A lot of hand-wringing and second guessing at MTV executive suites - sending the cast of “Jersey Shore” to Italy but failing to book them on a cruise.
The FDA says Avastin doesn’t work on ovarian cancer… which is confusing, because I always thought Avastin was an erectile dysfunction drug for pirates.
Thank you. My name is Chris Martin. Don’t forget to tip your bartender, Shane.
[video]