by Matt Mayer

I Liked Speed Racer ... A Lot

2008-10-02T16:47:00.003-04:00

I feel like nobody gave the movie Speed Racer a chance. Nobody said word one about it. Nobody saw it.

I saw it. Rented it on Blu-Ray. It was awesome. The visuals were innovative. The plot was strong. The movie was fun.

My one complaint was Speed's younger brother. I cannot tell you how annoyed I was by that kid. I want to say he kinda had to be in the movie, but I can't. I can't prove it. I never watched the TV show, so I don't know if the little bro was important or used the same way. He was a pudgy little loud-mouthed brat. He was essentially me when I was his age. I'm not saying I hate my younger, previous self. I'm saying there's only allowed to be one of me! I shall find him and kill him, and I shall get off because he is me, and I'm still alive. You see? The plan is bulletproof!

BULLETPROOF!!!!!

Bulletproof is another movie I thought was pretty good when I saw it even though people didn't really care about it. What can I say? I loved Adam Sandler. Somehow I doubt this, but hopefully I will have a similar post to this one about Don's Mess With The Zohan.

My gf's reaction blog!

2008-09-08T16:33:00.003-04:00

Ummm...so, my girlfriend thinks it is lame that I blog about my boring life. So, she has started a blog that makes fun of my blog posts.

She has also decided to start all the way at the beginning of my posts and catch up to me. Who knows when that will be? But, she's going for it.

I don't know how to feel about it really. I guess I could let it upset me, but I feel like she's just busting my balls, so no big deal, right?

Let me know if I should like stand up to her or something. They're a little mean so far, but also it's nice that she cares. I feel like she's sort of always looking out for me somehow. It's in my links to the right and this blog's title links to it, so help me have feelings towards this. Is it nice with a coating of mean? Or is it just mean?

Note to self

2008-09-05T12:48:00.002-04:00

Bodily functions are more important than checking email.

I wake up from a serious need to pee, and I walk straight to my computer and hit the space bar so it wakes up and I stand there waiting for it to do so. What is wrong with me that I don't just go to the bathroom first? What is this obsession with checking the email?

I also check it often right after sex. "Oh, baby, that was the best sex we've had in a while ... any facebook notifications!?"

Inspiration comes when you most expect it

2008-09-04T00:29:00.004-04:00

Went to see 2Square today. Lutz. Grosz. Genius.

I went in expecting a lot. I had been meaning to see 4Square, then 3Square, then finally 2Square for almost a year now. 4Square inspired my favorite '06 DC Comedy Festival show, Chuckle Sandwich. Chuckle Sandwich inspired one of my original favorite groups, Dr Fantastic. So I felt I had to see and would likely love the group that brought on so many other favorites for me.

It is a rare occasion when anything at all meets expectations after it has been hyped up: a Five Guys burger; Ender's Game; The Dark Knight. It is even rarer when that hype has been built up by you yourself.

2Square met, shook hands with, and had meaningful intercourse with my expectations. Afterwards, my expectations took 2Square home to meet the parents and siblings (of which there are many ... Mr and Mrs Expectations get frisky, often), and 2Square had meaningful intercourse with every last one of them. Even Elvin Expectations, the bucktoothed, acne-riddled virgin (no longer) of the Expectations clan. My goodness, I've never seen so much meaningful intercourse, metaphorical or otherwise, in all my life. It was like watching every wedding night in America happening simultaneously in one house.

To say the least, I am inspired. And I expected to be, as sad as that sounds. People were right. I was right. They are amazing.

Go see 'em.

need to kill an hour?

2008-09-02T15:21:00.003-04:00

Go to youtube, and look up the video "MJ - Smooth Criminal (Complete)" posted by josedek. Play this on silent as you play ANY OTHER MUSIC while watching the video.

Start both at random, or from any place within them, and be amazed as the video for Smooth Criminal has so much movement in it that it can sync up with any other music.

Successes have included:
Torn - Natalie Imbruglia
Spanish Flea - Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
The following theme songs - Perfect Strangers, Airwolf, Chip 'N' Dale's Rescue Rangers, Saved By the Bell
The Banana Boat Song - Harry Belafonte
...the list goes on

The Most Charitable of Beggars

2008-08-21T10:00:00.004-04:00

A woman walked onto a crowded subway car. Wasting no time, she was already speaking highly of The Father, The Son, and The Holy Ghost as she cleared the closing doors, blessing the entire car. She placed her laundry bag on a clear section of bench; one can only assume the clothes in the bag were as ratty and torn as the shirt on her back.

Boisterous and lightly coated with a veneer of joy, she offered up a unique rendition of This Little Light of Mine peppered with interjections of "Holy Ghost!" and "Church!" The woman made sure to sing loud and proud towards both the north and south ends of the 4 train.

Predictably, at the end of the song, she reached into her own back pocket and pulled out some change. With the mineral-colored pieces of metal in her hand, she walked swiftly from one end of the car to the other, requesting more pieces of metal. She rattled off generic labels like an auctioneer to get the attention of innocent bystanders: "Young man, young lady, thank you young man, young lady, young lady, mister, thank you ma'am, young lady, miss, young man, mister..."

As she completed her collection of payment for services rendered, she picked up her laundry bag and paused to make one more charitable contribution. She made sure to lose her temper at a man near the door who had ignored her entire show, like so many others had. He now knows how hard it is to do what she does, how long she was in the military, and what kind of a person he really is. She's got a little light, and she let it shine all over the unsuspecting man.

Coming 360

2008-08-19T13:02:00.004-04:00

Sometime in 1995 or '96, I made the conscious decision to become my own polar opposite. Uncomfortable with my body, my friends, and (most significantly) my social status, I wanted to be a different person. I wanted to crawl out of my own skin and find somebody else's to live within.

This is the thing that has affected my life most, both then and now: my self-loathing in middle school; my love for who I am now, peppered with an understanding that I could love myself more if I were more like the me I used to despise. Essentially, I was two completely different people for the first and second dozen years of my life, and now I am moving back towards center.

A chubby, intelligent and diligent child, I played videogames, read comic books, and did my homework. Sports were a weak spot for me. I always wanted to be better at them than I was. Food was a weakness. My room a safe haven. Sweatpants were my only clothing bottoms. I ate my boogers.

Plenty of fodder for the average, or even below-average bully. I had them all trying out their best stuff on me. All I wanted was for people to like me. That made it worse. I would go home crying every day. I would constantly be putting myself into situations where I would be harassed or attacked. I became indignant. This couldn't be my place in life.

So, I changed. I changed everything. I stopped reading comic books (and regular books too). I stopped doing my homework. I started playing more sports. I cut my hair. I wore jeans. This didn't matter. My place in the Mahwah school system was forever etched. I had been too resistant to accepting my fate and had thus sealed it in the school scriptures. This change did not matter to the outside world until I entered ninth grade and left everything I knew by going to a different school system.

(On a side note: I am very glad that my change did not grant me entrance at The Cool Kids' Table, because it was not my place. I didn't know at the time, but it was the wrong thing for me to try to do. I'm glad my experiment failed. Because of its failure, I ended up where I did for high school. And for that I will be forever grateful, for reasons that will not be explored in this blog.)

Nobody at Bergen Academies knew the former me, except my current roommate and best friend, Mark, and a small handful of others. So, I was able to trick myself into believing that the new me was the real me. My shallow choices called for a mutiny and left the actual real me on a desert island with a pistol and a single bullet. The first mate became the captain, and the ship took a whole new direction.

I went from the top of my class (or near it), to the bottom of my new class. I cared about clothes and lacrosse and having crushes on girls (but never doing anything about that because deep inside I was still shy Matt). I feigned confidence and acted popular. I was a social climber. I was the opposite of who I had been 3 years before. The 180 was complete.

I lived my life in that way to some extent for the next 8 or 9 years. I was an attention whore; I wanted to be friends with the popular people; I spent more time getting ready to go out at night than I actually spent out. There were parts of me that resisted. Parts that were still me, the real me. I did community service; I didn't drink until I turned 21; I definitely still played videogames; I was really shy around girls, even ones who liked me; I was picky about my real friends, the ones who I let really close. But mostly, it mattered more to me that I got an A in Cool than an A in English 101. I got a C- in that, by the way. Somewhere inside, I knew all along that I was doing the wrong thing, and the parts of me that were deep down underneath this new outer coat were trying to escape to the surface. I started out one way, made a U-turn and have been slowly turning the car around ever since.

The real movements back towards the original me started happening around the time of two major events. I started dating my current girlfriend, Sarah, and I started doing long-form improv.

Sarah is a grounded, intelligent, beautiful girl. She represents both sides of the spectrum well. In many ways, though not in all ways, she is where I want to be. I know that more and more everyday.

Improv comedy, more specifically long-form, and even more specifically the UCB community drew me in. I was and continue to be compelled by the art. I believe that that is significant to this story: the beauty of loving the people you're working with for everything they do, not just the stuff that immediately SEEMS brilliant on the surface. The more easily recognizable thing to me in terms of how it plays into my current pitch towards the past, is that that person I used to be would be 100% accepted by this community. If I had not changed one bit from before I got indignant and had found long-form some time along the way, I would still be as accepted in this community as I am now (if not moreso ... but that's a blog for another time). The most important part to recognize in all of that is that this is the community I most want to be in, period. I spent so much effort trying to be somebody I am not only to end up in the same place I would have wanted to anyway.

I am not going to give up everything that I have become since that fateful 3-year transition, as there are positives I have found, but I am happy to find a place where I feel comfortable picking up things I used to love. I dropped those things for the wrong reasons, and now thanks to this community and how accepting it is and how it's made up of people who I believe I really relate to deeply, I don't have to be afraid. Afraid to read comics, or obsess over a videogame, or geek out about books for a while. I'm doing all of those things right now, for the first time in a decade.

Thanks. Seriously. Thanks.

volleyball gripe

2008-08-09T15:44:00.002-04:00

stop interrupting my volleyball games because you want to play. i don't want to play with you. unless, of course, you're good.

i'm okay at the game. i played around with it for a couple years in college. i'm not amazing, but i can bump, set and spike. and, in my opinion, that's the only way the game should be played.

i hate it when people see that you're playing volleyball and just assume you can stop the game you're playing to let them play. the worst is that they get mad when you make them wait, for any period of time. i guess they figure since the play stops every 30 seconds or so that it would be easy to let them hop in. and i'm happy to do it, if they're not going to ruin the game.

i'm usually pretty nice and relaxed about stuff like that, but not during volleyball. because the difference between the two kinds of games is absolutely massive. it's like having a hamburger from mcdonalds or a hamburger from five guys. when you know that five guys is available, you will NOT settle for a mcdonald's burger.

it's a really interesting thing. you're so dependent on the play of the other people in the game to make it fun WITH you. a lot of sports you can just play one on one and have fun. or play with almost anybody because it's just fun to use your own skill set. hockey, basketball, soccer to think of a few like that. just a couple other bodies and you'll have a good time because you can see how you're shooting it or handling it. in volleyball, if you like to hit, you can't do it if nobody can set. if you like to block, you can't do it if nobody on the other side can hit (and therefore have a second person who can set).

in that respect it's like improv. it is way more fun to improvise with people you can trust to play well with you. improvising is only as fun as you and the people around you make it. you can't just ignore other people you're doing it with and be a ballhog. it just doesn't work. you need to set each other up and work together to have fun.

i love both things for that reason.

although, i will say that i enjoy jamming and playing with new people in improv, no matter how long they've been doing it. so in that respect it is very different. but, i guess i don't want to do that all the time.

ucbw

2008-07-25T17:16:00.002-04:00

I just debuted with my tag team partner Patrick, as our character tag team Locke and Key last night at cagematch at UCB. It was a lot of fun, and I'm really excited to be a part of it.

I want to be like 100 characters though. And I want to get as wrapped up in the wrestling and doing crazy kick-ass moves as I am the comedy, maybe even more so. I already submitted a second character idea called Atmosphere. I feel like I should calm down. I've got more brewing, constantly, but I think I can only be one at a time. So who knows if I'll ever be anybody but Locke. I've got a lot of ideas for it, and I know Patrick does too, and I think people are excited about it, but we'll see.

I'm definitely just pumped to be involved and now I'm going to be a little bit on the inside maybe, help with fight choreography and special moves and whatnot. Here it comes.

eat at Five Guys

2008-07-21T11:23:00.001-04:00

Five Guys is the correct answer to the question "Hamburger?"

a second bout of inspiration

2008-07-20T02:45:00.002-04:00

I love it when a friend's mass "Lemme Update You On My Life" email can inspire you and remind you of great things you can be doing too.

Thanks Kelaine.

i knight thee...

2008-07-20T01:33:00.003-04:00

In keeping with my most recent self-assertion to follow through, here I am. One-thirty in the morning. The night I saw the movie. THE movie. And I shall share with you my feelings.

My first impression of Christopher Nolan's reminder to the American people that comic book movies can be more than just action-packed popcorn sellers was that it was my favorite movie, ever. This is a feeling that I had before the end of the film; in fact, I had it with about an hour to go. After talking it over on the car ride home with my lovely girlfriend I realized that perhaps there are some flaws, but we'll get to them later.

Heath Ledger's portrayal of the Joker as a manipulative psychopathic genius is so stirring that I truly believe it will cause a character actor boom in a few short years. It is inspirational. It will remind people why actors are artists. He chills to the bone, with mannerisms that are bursting with history, a voice with a four-octave range, and a posture that is somehow disturbing all on its own. This inhumane depiction of absolute evil and terror is more human than Nicholson's almost cartoonish work as the same character in Tim Burton's less recent reboot of the Batman film franchise in 1989. The job well done will go down in history for many reasons, some related to the actor's performance in the film and some related to his death in life. I will remember it for how it somehow helped me believe that there are people like that in the real world. Comic inspiration or no, Ledger made me understand what it means to be evil just a bit more than I did. It also reminded me why I am interested in acting.

In fact, Heath Ledger's work as the Joker reminds me of the small part inside me that wanted to play parts like that. It has awoken in me the formerly napping desire to reach inside the depths of my own mind and pull out a part of it that I had placed under lock and key, in a trunk, surrounded by lots of styrofoam cushioning due to its volatility. I remember wanting to take it out of its little padded home and throw it against the floor then clean up the mess. I feel a little disturbed by my own desire to do this, but it was what drew me to acting to begin with: the chance to play a part of my id that no one (not even me) gets to see. It's there inside all of us. I know it's in me, and I deny it for the good of myself and everyone around me. I don't have to do it often, but every now and again it wants me to step over the rail of the stairwell and hang from it just to do it; to crash my car into that other car whose driver is being too erratic because he needs to learn a lesson. That little part of me and many others want to get out and wreak havoc, or at least get a smell of the fresh air, on a leash, at the dangerous end of a motion picture camera.

Despite all the other things there are to say about this movie, good and bad, the deep-rooted questions about humanity, society, trust, love and fear, and every other thing there is to say, I only really wanted to talk about Ledger's performance, one that I believe deserves at LEAST a posthumous Oscar nomination. It would be an insult to actors everywhere if he did not at least get the nod. My lovely girlfriend will have to wait for another post to see her opinions on Harvey Dent's subplot and themes featured on the blog.

Thanks for reading. Nobody.

howabout a little follow-through

2008-07-16T09:39:00.003-04:00

Man alive. I am fantastically amazing at doing things I say I'm going to do in my blog.

Sarcasm over, at least momentarily.

I feel like I don't have enough follow-through these days. Something has happened to me between college and now that I don't just get off my ass and do things like I used to. Interestingly enough, I think I've written some iteration of this blog post every other time I sign on. There's irony there, in that I'm only blogging to talk about how I don't follow through on things like blogging.

I think I expect too much from myself off the bat. I expect to be able to hit the first pitch out of the park every time. While making goals and creating expectations for yourself is good, there are times when I won't even swing for fear of not hitting that homerun. I resolve to be better about that. This paragraph will forever be proof of my being willing to write something public even if it's not amazing before I even put it down. It's still not amazing, but I'm leaving it as is, damnit. Even if that means it'll haunt me for about three days until I've forgotten again that I even have a blog.

Failure is proof that you gave it a shot. If this were a hand-written blog I would put a red circle with a capital F inside it on the top of the blog as a symbol rebellious to my over-thinking, perfectionist self. Take that.

P.S. Going to be Sho'nuff, the Shogun of Harlem for Halloween.

news

2007-11-13T15:01:00.000-05:00

Nobody reads this except you, but know this: I will be blogging more in the voice of a newspaper from here on. I might not even use this blog (though I may). I insist that nothing be set in stone or defined regarding this launch of my newspaper, which may read more like a magazine.

Be ready, or just show up empty handed. Either way, you should be fine. Or not.

NYC Gave Me PinkEye and OCD

2007-09-10T12:13:00.000-04:00

I think this city is going to give me OCD. Not just any run of the mill OCD. Not that paranoid - lock - and - unlock - the - door - 8 - times - and - step - 4 - times - on - either - side - of - my - slippers - Jack - Nicholson - in - As - Good - As - It - Gets sort of OCD, but rather the germophobic type. I washed my hands already 3 times today (it's just past noon) and I haven't yet gone to the bathroom (just saying you can't say one or two of those don't count because I went to the bathroom).

Why? Why now? Because I have pink eye (I think). And I'm pretty sure it was caused by the old NYC germ delivery service known as my left hand. I have allergies, and my eyes itch, and I'm pretty sure I must've caused the inflammation of my left vision organ by inadvertently rubbing my eye repeatedly. Maybe one or more of those times my hand was carrying something that needed not be on the moist and vulnerable surface of one of my (mostly) internal organs. Other (mostly) internal organs include the nostrils and the belly button (it's deep). But I woke up with some crusties and pinkness and some swelling of the eyelid. I look like Rufus Sewell, which isn't so bad because he's sort of foxy with the ladies. But in my case it's a sign that something's not right.

It always bothers me when people have one eyelid more closed than others in pictures. Not in like family pictures, but in print. Most specifically when you're on a larger-than-life GAP ad, where your face is literally shown at 6 feet tall by 4 feet wide. That the photographer and printer had the nerve to choose a photograph that will be that large of somebody's face when one eyelid is clearly in the middle of a struggle, well it just burns my biscuits, that's all.

Maybe those celebrities have pink eye because they live in NYC and they're not paying attention like me. I'm paying attention now, NYC. You happy? Are you? Are you not entertained? Apologies for slipping into Russell Crowe for a minute there. His acting has always compelled me to quote him ironically.

Wash your hands people. But don't forget to use something like Aveeno Active Naturals Daily Moisturizing Lotion (fragrance free) afterwards, otherwise your hands will dry up like a salted slug.

That's all.

Labor Day! YAY! ...gay.

2007-09-04T15:36:00.000-04:00

Labor Day Weekend
by A Guy Wearing a White Shirt

Don't watch "The Ex" ... but watch "Hot Fuzz"

I reprised my role as Testudo the Terrapin this past weekend at the University of Maryland's sporting contest against Villanova (a.k.a. 'Nova) University. The sport, I believe, was football. I donned my outfit of fur and pleather, fiberglass and foam, and I showed the new members of the flock how it's done. I had forgotten how much I loved to go around in my shell and just let loose. It was really one of those cases where you don't know what you've got until it's gone and then you get it back again.

Life's been good to me lately. Other than hating my job of course. Can't win 'em all.

This is the dawn of a new era. I'll be blogging more regularly if I can just to keep myself writing. Because I can be a real slacker, and I should not slack at all let alone how much I do.

Much love.

private?

2006-07-16T21:28:00.000-04:00

I want to start blogging, but for myself. I never blog because it's for other people, and when I do it, I think I try too hard. In order to get better at this writing thing, I think I have to start writing for me, and only for me. Work out jokes, write babble, just write it. Get it out onto the papernet. So, goodbye.

Long like distance-wise on your screen, pt 1

2006-04-24T09:48:00.000-04:00

There is so much to say that I haven't been saying recently because I had been so swamped with organizing the TICKLE. It went well and is over now, so I can focus on other things. For example, I can focus on writing in this blog, which I can FEEL excites the masses. Masses, are you excited? ...That was where you were supposed to exclaim "YES!" with the understanding that the millions who are also reading this blog with you have done the same. Glad we're all together on this.

Allow me to begin (again) with a pat on my own back, along with a slap on my comrades' butts, and a thank you to more people than I can name. The Bureau, just yesterday, received two student group awards from the University of Maryland's Student Government Association. We were the only group on campus (out of over 400) to receive multiple awards. The awards we received were for "Best Performing Group" and "Best Program of Events". Allow me to clarify. Performing groups include any group that performs, not just comedy or theater groups, so I'm quite proud of us there. And the Program of Events award goes to the one group (again out of over 400) that has the best year-long schedule of events. We have had 6 independent programs so far this year and have two more before the year's end. Add to that countless appearances at the events of other groups and tack on a couple off-campus events, and you have a good reason for us to win this award. I couldn't be more satisfied with the recognition. I like to tell myself I don't need the recognition for the work, but damn it sure is nice. So thanks to everybody who's been a part of The Bureau's success in this inaugural year. We couldn't have done it without everybody's support.

Let's move now onto improv. I'm obsessed with long-form improv. I want to jam and play and exercise whenever I can. I first saw JACKIE perform with the Washington Improv Theater (WIT) at Flashpoint in downtown DC. It blew my mind. Then I caught so many more performances at the DC Comedy Fest and I had to become a part of it. I started taking a class on Wednesday nights, which has thus far gone incredibly well. For anybody that doesn't know what long-form improv is, please check out www.washingtonimprovtheater.com and get yourself to a show. These people have changed my life. This is something I want to do all the time now, and I'm very excited about it constantly. It has opened my eyes to a new world of performance. It is the freest and purest form of creation I've seen in all my days of performance and visual art. It forces/allows you to create art and comedy out of thin air. It's quite amazing. I would like to thank all the WIT troupes for really doing great things and being extremely open to conversing about what they do. That has added to my interest, the interest of getting to know the people who do the improv themselves. I can really see learning and participating in this opening me up to so many great experiences, and I believe that anybody and everybody should look into it.

I'm going to go for now, but only because I have a project to do and then work to go to.

But, before I do that, I have to tell you all to go out and get Coheed and Cambria's fourth album, entitled "Good Apollo, I'm Burning Star IV, Volume One: From Fear Through the Eyes of Madness". I have been listening to it nonstop for almost a month with no regrets and no sign of slowing down.

TICKLE

2006-04-18T20:28:00.000-04:00

Thanks to everybody who came to the TICKLE event at UMD. To all 3 of you who read this, thank you.

Thanks to all the comics who performed. We really had a great time. It was especially awesome because we were able to make happen all the different things we do. Sketch, improv, standup, music, and alternative comedy were all performed on the same stage in the same show. And I thank everybody who was a part of it. It was a first annual event, and for the first year, having 20 outside performers, and Daniel Tosh, it was great. Thanks again to everybody who helped out and were a part of it. You know who you are.

I will write in this more now that I have time since TICKLE's over. Now is not that time, but ... deal with it. Nobody reads this but me anyway, so it doesn't matter. That won't always be the case, but for now, to you (me), farewell.

jersey

2006-03-14T19:36:00.000-05:00

I'm a proud resident of the state of New Jersey. I love it there. I was lucky enough to get the chance to go up there this past weekend. I got to see my older sister, my parents, some friends. I didn't have to get out of my car to fill up my tank. I didn't have to roll my windows down if I didn't want to, but if I did, I could've smelled the sweet aroma of industry around exit 13A on the turnpike.

The thing I enjoyed most about New Jersey is just the sense of home for me. Of course, it is my home, and this would most likely be true about any other state if I had been raised there. However, the truth is that my home is in New Jersey, and is not in some other state. But it FEELS like home too. The big malls, jerk drivers on the road, late-night dining with friends when you're not hungry and have no money, the valet parking everywhere you go, the random Ferrari passing the vagrant Pinto in the shoulder on the highway, the fine dining establishments found even in a crappy and run-down mini-mall shopping center. In my heart and my head, these things are irreplacable.

Not often can you go home to your friend's house (whose dad is a multi-millionaire) and have him be at a serious low that night because he spent the night before in the woods of a New York state park on mushrooms and then left the park for a local strip club where he got free VIP treatment including lap dances (yes on 'shrooms) and came home with one of the stippers who happened to be tattoo'd from head to toe and then have him decide he can't go to the diner to chill out tonight (Saturday) because he's got a long work week in the city starting on Monday.

Okay, so I embellished a little bit. But it's true that you can't have that happen often.

Hopefully I get back to posting interesting things soon.

not as lonely as it seems

2006-03-14T19:30:00.000-05:00

I've received a comment of concern on my last posting about real friends. Andy thought I was lonely when I wrote it. The truth is that I was not lonely at all.

I wasn't lonely because I had those real friends. I am really pretty stoked to have them. I know some people don't. Some people never get the chance to make that same connection I've been able to make with them and keep it strong enough over the years.

This post is lame.

the never-fails

2006-03-11T03:12:00.000-05:00

friends. that's what i'm going to talk about right now. friends.

i'm at home in new jersey right now. just drove up from UMD today. of all the "friends" i have at home, i legitimately made contact with two of them, both of whom were ready to hang out with me at the drop of a hat. gets me thinking about who my real friends are. ...those two are my two real home friends, from my town at least.

sure i've got other friends at home or from home, but those two are my instants, my never-fails, my boys. i've got plenty of people who i can run into, or with whom i can spend a night out. but i've got those two who i can count on to be cool just sitting at home, talking, or just watching infomercials or maybe watching whatever hot new comedy series we've got on dvd (make yours Arrested Development ... and expect many shameless plugs for that show on this blog).

there's a distinct comfort in the never-fails, in the bests, in the bff's as the online ladies call it (those're best friend forevers, to clarify). weed out the rest, people. the rest are nothing to the n-f's, to the b's, to the bffae's (and evers). i mean, spend your time with whoever you want, but make your life happen with the people that count. make it happen specifically with the people that call you when they're home for just a night.

Desperate = Sexy? Um, nope.

2006-03-10T01:24:00.000-05:00

Thursday's always a good day. No classes on Thursday. That's good. Know what else is good? Eating two full dinners back to back at different restaurants. And also volleyball. And a Diamondback interview. Things could be worse.

It's a beautiful night to end a beautiful day for the first time in many weeks. I spent it inside though, oddly enough. I was planning on going out and doing what I do, but last night was odd, and made me never want to go to a sorority dated party as the date of one of my little sister's friends ever again. ...not that I would have been doing that tonight, but ... it put me down for at least a night.

I go there, with a very cute young lady, but we're hanging with separate people. My little sister tells me about 40 minutes into the night that a different young lady, by the (changed) name of "Larissa is going to ask you to dance. Just so you know." No response from me but "okay" because it's no big deal, right. Oh, how wrong I was.

Larissa finds me, says (as fast you as you can imagine being able to utter something intelligibly, so fast I couldn't get a word in edgewise) "Hey, Matt, you look bored. You want to go get a drink and then dance? Okay let's go. Are you okay? What's wrong, something bothering you? Are you all right? What's up? Areyouhavingagoodtime? Issomethingwrong? Tellmewhat'supwhat'supwhat'supDoyounotwanttodance?What'swrong?" To which I was finally able to respond, "Nothing's wrong, I just have no time to respond."

This sort of conversation continued at the bar over what to drink, "You want a Kamikaze, Red-headed Slut, ItalianSurfer,Blowjobshot,Butterynipple? ..." You get the picture.

We finally get to the dance floor and we're dancing within each other's vicinities for a few minutes, and then she says to me. "Okay, I'm going to dance with you now. Are you ready?" And she like takes my hand like we're about to go sky-diving or something, like my life's about to be at risk. Let me say, the contact offered me no comfort. I interject, "Haven't we already been dancing together?" She says nothing but instead turns around and shoves her ass into my crotch. I almost dropped my beer. This Larissa girl meant business. I had no idea what was going on, but I can tell you my associated feelings. Weird. Awkward. Mildly Aroused. Actually, I wish I could say I was mildly aroused. More like mildly intrigued at this young woman's warped sense of what a guy wants.

So, amidst my confused mindstate wondering if I should alter the gyrating of my pelvic zone to be in some sort of synchronous motion-pattern with her pelvic zone, she just up and walks away. My mindstate reset itself, now focused on a more "what the eff just happened" process. So I ask Kevin, "Kevin, what the eff just happened?"
"I don't know, dude, that was weird"
So I stayed in my little dance spot for a while, still confused, and still gyrating, but on my own terms.

About 10 minutes later, I see my date across the bar and begin to walk towards her. I am intercepted by Larissa who is barking. At least it sounded like barking. Not like a dog barking, but like a drill Sgt barking orders at his mini-cadets. "Why did you walk away from me?" SHE says. Not me, I repeat. She barked it. "Why did you walk away from me?"
"Larissa, I didn't walk away from you."
"Yes, you did. Why would you do that?"
"That's not how I remember it. This is so stupid. You walked away from me."
"No, I didn't. I obviously have a crush on you, so why would I do that?"

All of a sudden the DJ halted the music he was playing on the LP which made a really perfect stop-short record scratch sound. At least, if it were a prime-time teen soap opera on the WB (which is what it felt like), that's what would have happened. I started creeping away slowly as if she were looking in the other direction and I was being quiet and sneaky and successfully sneaking away unscathed, but she was looking right at me. So she says "Fine, walk away now then"
"Okay" And the sneaking continued, but with an added hand gesture. ...Not the finger, you jerk, I'm not that mean. The peace sign. And my eyes were wide like I was saying "You should seek help." And I returned again to my original spot of dance and gyration, never having made it to my date.

Then I see my date walking towards the bathroom. Oh, wow, that girl she's with is crying. Is that? Oh, my, good, lord. Larissa was CRYING. I spent the rest of the night talking to a very lovely 26yr old Princeton grad/Columbia med student. That was of course after being ordered to dance again with Larissa by my date. That should have been obvious though, right? A given.

The moral of the story? Go to the bar with freshmen girls, because you'll meet cool, smart, successful women in their mid-twenties when you're avoiding all the drama you caused.

Dane Cook's Tourgasm

2006-03-04T19:42:00.000-05:00

For all those who are Dane Cook fans, his Tourgasm documentary is coming to HBO in April. Watch it.

For all of you who are Matt Mayer fans, watch it. He's in it. In fact, he should be a featured part of the episode that includes the University of Maryland show. So, just get on it.

If you have any questions, please feel free to contact Matt Mayer at mbmayer@umd.edu. I can't post the information here.

Chicken and Waffles

2006-03-04T19:35:00.000-05:00

Life is but a walking shadow ...

Friday night's antics were so good, I couldn't bear (bare?) to write about them until Monday. Let's just say the night started off with some Chicken and Waffles.

I had never had Chicken and Waffles before. In fact, I had first heard of them in a poorly made sci-fi Ice T movie starring Ice T and a plate of chicken, underneath of which were waffles. But I was out with my black friends on Friday, so they egged me on, and chicken and waffles found its way into my life (I say "its" instead of "their" because chicken and waffles together are a singular entity, so stop complaining about my grammar you pompous twit). Sweet and salty people, sweet and salty. I would in fact recommend chicken and waffles.

So I ordered my chicken and waffles at a bar called Common Share (18th and U) in DC. This bar had a larger black population as compared to the white folk, who were all upstairs in the corner by the jukebox, huddled together for warmth (so it seemed). Their level of comfort was so low they appeared to be multiplying like wet mogwais. Every time I looked over there were more white people in that jukebox corner, even though they didn't take up any more space. The population was just more dense now. They remained uncomfortable and awkward, shooting the occasional "do the black people think we're cool" glance our way. The cornered white folk were so uncomfortable, they were making me uncomfortable. Here's the kicker. The music selected by the juke-hoarding population was all Kanye West, Outkast, and James Brown, which in our minds told us they were trying to impress us with black people music that white people know about. Let me say, I was not impressed. But with a few more drinks in me, I was swimming through popped collars to play "Bombs Over Bahgdad" and "Papa's Got a Brand New Bag." Yay for cultural ignorance!

We walked back towards the metro station, drunk, freezing, laughing like school girls at a cockfight. And we stopped, of course, at the Jumbo Slice to get the largest, worst-tasting slice of pizza this side of the Potomac. Though enjoying this horrible piece of pizza, my enjoyment was furthered certainly with the realization that there was some serious making out happening on the television just above me. I took another bite of my pizza. Then I looked up again and felt like I saw some nipple ... Nah, couldn't have been. I took another bite of my pizza. I look up and definitely see nipple, so without looking back down, I take another bite of that disgusting pizza, and all of a sudden, these two people are having sex!

Why was there softcore porn on the TV at the Jumbo Slice? My friends were like "I can't watch this while I'm eating." I couldn't hear them though because I was busy rounding up the troops. "Check this out! Softcore porn!" ...Who needs oregano when you can have softcore porn? The second half of that pizza was delicious.

I'm Matt Mayer, and here's my Thursday

2006-03-04T17:20:00.000-05:00

5pm - wake up to a phone call (yeah, I said 5pm, because I took a 3 hour power nap on a couch in a strange apartment until 8am, which is when I began walking back to my place, all the while trying to uncrick my neck without snapping it, so by the time the pain subsided and I fell asleep for real I had already missed brunch.)

Let me start over without the interruption.

5pm - wake up to a phone call offering me a free Coldplay ticket WHAT.
5pm and 3 seconds - accept free Coldplay ticket
7pm - leave for DC to do standup at Topaz with Andy
8pm - do some new jokes and some old jokes in a new way to mixed responses
830pm - peace out to see coldplay at the MCI center
9pm - arrive at the administrative entrance, question my friend as to why we're not going in the main entrance
901pm - my friend flashes the tickets at me. I see the words "executive suite" on them. WHAT?

you get the picture.

So Coldplay was pretty great. They put on an awesome show, sweet effects, big screen, great music. I don't usually go to the big venues for concerts. I usually check out the underground stuff that hold like 2000 people at MOST in a venue, with no seats, that sort of thing. I only saw one other arena/stadium venue concert, and let me tell you, NSYNC was incredible. I'll tell you why I went. My aunt bought me a ticket, and I went with my sisters. Oh, and because I asked my aunt if should could get me tickets, and my sisters said "Hey, I kinda would like to go ... not quite as much as you, Matt, but I wouldn't mind seeing them ... Matt, the concert's not for 3 weeks, you can take off your 'I HEART JC' shirt."

I come home, hang with Andy for a few and get a call from a freshman friend of mine, somebody who I met through my younger sister. She asks me to come out to the bar, so I do (of course). I get there and can't find her, but I find her friends, also freshmen. so we hang out for a bit, dance, then I notice an individual named Chris is hanging with them as well, and suddenly I'm in a quarter-life crisis. I will tell you why.

Chris is at least a year older than me (6th or 7th year at Maryland) and is notorious for being a sketchy (but sexy) goon who hangs out on the freshman side of campus and in the dining halls to pick up freshman girls despite the 5 or 6 year age difference. By all accounts and by my personal opinion, he is scum. And yet there I am hanging out with the same freshman girls as he is. I started to question myself, started to go through existential trauma. I was forced to ask myself questions I never thought I'd have to ask. I was no faced with the question "am I a scum-sucking, freshman-loving, 5th year sleazebag?"

I thought about this for a while, thought of lots of arguments for either direction; complicated, detailed explanations for either side of the coin. But I'm not telling you any of them. I will tell you that I've decided I'm not a scumbag.

So I take the drunk freshmen home, and one of them pukes in my car, in the trunk of which is my "I HEART JC" shirt. Full circle. Sweet. End of story, goodnight.

My First Ever Post ... Since Livejournal

2006-03-03T12:23:00.000-05:00

Let's start this off by posting about the topic on which I just made a comment on Danny Rouhier's blog and was henceforth required to create this account. (grammar WHAT WHAT?)

To those seeking advice on stand-up comedy, opportunities on a personal or intimate level are few and far between. The best we can do is often reading books or studying tape of the greats. Every now and again, somebody with more experience than you will take you by the set list and walk you through, listen to your stage time and give you notes afterward, make a suggestion or two about what you should do your next chance at 7 minutes on stage, which isn't coming up for another 2 weeks.

Thank you to those who speak up. Thank you to anybody EVER, with or without experience in the field of stand-up comedy, who offers their honest and sincere thoughts, criticisms, and comments on my stand-up comedy. I love it, and baby I want some more of it.

I've been doing this comedy thing on and off for a year, totaling maybe only 6 months of actual time hitting stages and writing. That doesn't mean I can't tell when or why something I saw on stage was or wasn't funny. I've made comments and suggestions; I've helped other comics' writing; I've written my own shit. All of which has been met with both failure and great success.

I will offer my advice to anybody who's willing to listen. Now, that doesn't mean you are going to or should listen to every word I have to say. What it really means is that I love it when somebody will give me the choice of whether or not to listen to their advice. At least it's there for me to decide, and at least it's honest.

So, anybody who has ever offered me help personally or in a blog in terms of stand-up comedy, you all know who you are but just in case you dont I'll list you in a second, shortly after I'm done completing the longest run-on sentence in history short of any Bills past (they're all one sentence for those who don't know politics ... isn't it funny I'm writing something about politics when I know nothing about it ... them? Is it "it" or "them" because it's politics, like plural but it's just one subj..[got shot in the neck with a blowdart]). Thanks.

Danny Rouhier, Rory Scovel, Ryan Conner, Andy LoPresto, Matt Liebman, Demetri Martin, Jon Lovitz, and anybody else I forgot to mention. This Oscar means a lot to me.