United We fall
7102 Views

I scanned my United Airlines itinerary and saw that my trip to El Paso, the first of a three-pronged trip, left LaGuardia at 9:07. My gut told me this was wrong, that I'd arranged to leave earlier but I couldn't find an earlier time on my itinerary sheet. My gut is always right, except for the time it assured me I could drink an extra-large Baskin Robbins frappacino and not shit myself on the subway. Turns out I'd missed my flight to Denver, (where I was to connect to El Paso) and had to wait 3 hours for the next one. So I took out my 30th Anniversary paperback edition of "Rise and Fall of the Third Reich" and began to read. This is a hard book to read in public as it’s a small black paperback with a large swastika on it. Historians consider it the preeminent book on Nazi Germany but to passersby it looks more like a training manual. I decided that eating a yogurt with granola mixed in will make me look more collegiate and less S.S. Clearly, no self respecting Nazi would pay $4.50 for yogurt and granola.

Deep in the world of Nazi Germany and enjoying my hippy breakfast, the 3 hours whizzed by in what seemed like 9. I finally got on the plane and slept for most of the 4 hours to Denver. Here began my 2nd 3 hour wait. I landed at gate B-23 and was excited to see my next flight was leaving from gate B-96, a mere 73 gates away. I could almost hear my 35 lb carry-on bag laughing at me. As luck would have it there is a Starbucks opposite my gate. I settled in for my now 2 hour 41 minute layover- it took me 19 minutes to walk to my new gate. I took out my training manual and ordered a peppermint mocha latte. No self-respecting Nazi would drink a $4.50 Grande Peppermint Mocha latte, right?

The 2 hours and 41 minutes went by faster than a glacier. 19 minutes until take-off and it appears no one told me there’d been a gate change. The walk to the new gate took the exact amount of time I’d allotted to pee. I decided to wait and pee on the plane. The plane is small, only two seats per side. I don’t like flying on small planes as they seem to have more problems with turbulence, (or “chop” as the pilots like to say). I sat at my window seat and waited with legs crossed until the captain announced we could pee. I hate having to annoy the person sitting next to me by asking them to let me up. I find it embarrassing and frankly, I’d rather have a catheter stuck up my ying-yang. I decided to see if I could hold out for the 90 minutes to Denver. Besides, my kegel muscle could use the exercise. 9 minutes later and I was about to piss myself. I think my prostate needs a replacement. And I’m also feeling gassy now. Two reasons to use the restroom immediately. I turned to ask the old lady next to me if I could get up. Apparently she’s psychic as she is sitting with her blanket completely over her head. She looked like a blue pima cotton ghost. Now there is no way I can pee, and the turbulence is throwing the plane around like a turd in a wave pool. 14 minutes later she took the blanket off and I excused my self for sweeeet relief! My apologies to the cleaning crews of United Airlines but urinating standing up in heavy “chop” has its drawbacks. That said, there is nothing funning than peeing and farting standing up in serious turbulence. With my bladder empty and the tiny restroom smelling like the backside of a Grande Peppermint Mocha latte, I opened the restroom door. Who was waiting to use it next- my old ghost lady! How embarrassing that she’d have to sit in the cloud of Starbucks induced trauma I left hovering. Even better, she gets to enjoy it in heavy chop. The gigs in El Paso went swimmingly. I couldn’t visit Juarez, Mexico as they’ve had1400 murders thus far this year, (roughly 3 a day), and even Juarez-born Mexicans urged me to avoid it. My flight from El Paso to Denver was fine, but now began my third 3 hour lay over. I pulled my Nazi book out of my bag and ordered a Starbucks Vente Eggnog latte. If our sexuality was defined by our Starbucks purchases I'd be a lipstick wearing bottom prag. On the other hand, what self-respecting Nazi would order a $4.50 Vente Eggnog latte?

As I read my book and drank my beard I watched two women enter my gate area; a milf in a tight brown dress and an obese woman I’ll call Orca sit on the floor, (she probably couldn’t fit on a bench), with her t-shirt riding up and her pants dipping low enough to show some tasty ass-crack. If I were president I’d outlaw obesity and force Orca to diet until she looked like the milf. However I am not the president so I continued to sip my Vente Eggnog latte and stare at her ass-crack. 35 minutes until my flight leaves and I’m gonna pee. Not taking a chance here. I also happen to know that on my next flight I have a window seat-in an exit isle! Wahoo! There is a sign stating that the restrooms also double as tornado shelters. Now its decision time- do I call in a fake tornado so Orca has to run in and watch me pee? Imagine the delicious awkwardness.”Hi I’m Kevin,…There’s a tornado?!? Really?!? Have you ever seen one of these?” Or do I wait and call in the bogus threat when Milf is peeing? I could run into her stall and say, “I’m really sorry but there is a tornado. Mind if I hide in your toilet?”

Time to fly. I slid into my EXIT AISLE window seat to enjoy some yummy legroom and maybe even sleep a bit. But the travel gods are still angry and have more fun in store for me. Orca’s bigger brother, whom I’ll call Grimace, is sitting in the middle seat next to me. The thrill of snagging a rare exit aisle seat is now overshadowed by the humanity that slogs over the arm-rest and onto my body. I am now sandwiched between Grimace and the wall of the plane. I am so snug against this man I feel we are dating. No need to buckle up, I am going nowhere. Why watch the emergency video? If we crash Grimace will flatten me before I can open the emergency door. The stewardess asks us, “In the event of an emergency are you willing to help open the emergency doors?” I want to say, “I’m gonna open them at 30,000 feet and get sucked out because I don’t see me getting blobbed on by Jabba the Hut for 2 hours”, but instead I sat in my seat and got blobbed on by Jabba the Hut for 2 hours. Fortunately I can feel that Vente eggnog Latte stirring up some sweet revenge.

Atlantic City
7412 Views

There should be a sign on the the Atlantic City Expressway that says, "Welcome to Atlantic City- it Ain't Vegas". Travellers flying to Las Vegas are merry. The wastrels on the bus to AC scratch festering wounds, and the air is redolent of jerk goat sandwiches.

I chose my seat on the 4:00 bus. In an effort to have no one sit next to me I attempted to look crazy, but trying to out-crazy these reprobates is like trying to out-sexy Manuel Uribe. I am but a punk.

MANUEL URIBE

God/buddha/allah has heard my plea and no one sat next to me. I was foolish enough to leave my ipod at home and thus was subjected to an old black guy's threats against the Atlantic City establishment, including such hits as, "Mutha fuckas goin lose they asses ta-day!"and "Cock-suckas gonna suck my mutha-fuckin' cock this time".

I spent my time reading WWII magazine, (which is retarded as I know who won the war). When that wore thin I attempted to use my blackberry to watch youporn.com, (didn't work). Ennui was taking it's toll and I was only 70 minutes into a 2 and a half hour ride. I fruitlessly attempted to recall my password on thickchickz.com and met with another dead end. I kinda had to pee but judgementally wondered how dedicated the Acadamy Bus bathroom cleaning crew are to their jobs and decided a trip to the restroom was an invitation to an infestation of Atlantic City super-crabs.

~FYI~ my internet crashed at this point in my writing and I had to start over. I think the original was funnier. Maybe~

I'd decided it was nap time but the bus gods disagreed. Maybe I'm just more polite than others but I think talking on a cell phone whilst on a bus is rude and should punishable by mouth-rape. A chunky, Jersey-type man across from me decided to make rendezvous plans with someone surely called "Jimbo". Fortunately he was loud enough to make sure the people in the car next to us were apprised. I'm guessing Jimbo is a little slow on the draw as Jersey man had to bellow, (in his best, "I wish I coulda been on the Sopranos voice), "What are you fuckin' deaf? Meet me at Bally's at 9:00" Je-zus!".

Now that Jimbo knew the plan the bus was quiet again. I closed my eyes to take a nap and two minutes later heard a loud "THUMP".

I opened my eyes and looked out the window in time to see a large male dear sureallistically rolling through the grass and back toward the trees it never should have left and would never leave again. It tumbled in slow motion away from the road. I've seen a ton of dead deer off to the side of the road and wondered how they got so far away after being hit. Now I know. It's a matter of simple physics- when a deer travelling at 5 miles an hour hits a bus full of stinky gamblers at 70 mph, the deer will make a final defication and be hurtled 25 feet fron the point of impact as ghetto-types and a comedian look on in shock and/or amusement.

The 4:00 Acadamy Bus arrived 2 minutes ahead of time. I can tell we've all been on this trip before as no one rose from their seats after we stopped. We waited for our casino host to step aboard and annouce that our bus coupons were worth $21, (the ticket was $35)! The older black man let out a giddy, "YEAH! Mutha-fuckas gonna give me more beofre I'm done".

I cashed in my coupon and headed for the Tropicana for what would turn out to be a great week of shows. I also visited my fave gambling vice, the Liberace slot machine at the Trop. Liberace burned me for $20 in the first 3 days but would pay me back $70 before I left. My parents showed up and Liberace gave my dad a $150 kiss as well. My parents left about $1200 up.

For an alcoholic trips through AC, visit www.drinkingon11.com The Update will be added Nov. 3.

Travel is sometimes fun
6052 Views

Comics have to travel. We log more miles than a dead-beat dad on the run. Travel is drag but at times it's a hoot.

I was driving my rental car to JFK for a flight to Vegas. I was stopped at a light in NYC. The driver-side back door of the Prius in front of me opened and a 50 year old woman stuck her head out and spit, then paused. I wished Santa Claus had been in my car so I could jump on his lap and ask him to make the lady puke. Sadly there was no Santa in the car and the lady closed the door. 2 seconds later she opened it and began power vomiting, much to my glee! I'm not sure if the vomit was reflecting the color of the Prius or if the lovely harridan had just eaten a bucket of pea soup. She closed the door and my fun was over,...or so I thought! Moments later she flung the door open for an encore power-thrust! How much pea soup can one woman eat? I laughed until I cried. The light changed green, (matching her vomit), and I actually steered clear of driving through her tummy-scum. Thank you Santa!

An hour later I was on the Vegas-bound plane, sitting in seat 14F. Each seat has a screen allowing the passenger to watch movies, choose music, or play trivia. I decided to play some trivia. The screen asked for a name. I didn't to use my same old same old, so after much deliberation i decided I'd just call my self Homey. How funny for the other passengers to see that "Homey" was playing some triva. What I didn't know was they not only post the names of the players but their seat numbers as well. There it was, SEAT 14F HOMEY. I was slightly panicked. I looked at the list of players and saw the closest to me was in seat 14A. He called himself PATRON. I looked down the isle to see a stalwart negro looking back at me. The trivia battle ensued. Needless to say PATRON kicked my lilly white one in sports but I dominated in history and geography. We both tanked the Art questions.

Carry onward brave travellers. or check out my site, www.drinkingon11.com where I travel to the country's diviest bars and try to get drunk on only $11.

Bloody Kansas (Members Only)
6913 Views

I dont "blog" because who cares about my day, political beliefs, or anything else. However, my new website (www.kevindowneyjr.com) has a space for a blog and I dont want to leave it empty. So I've decided to use it to talk about hell gigs. No one asks about the gigs where we kill a theater of 2000, then watch women fist-fight for the pleasure of licking our asses. People wanna hear about the ugliness.

Sept. 3 - Hays, KS

Blessedly this gig was cancelled. I lost a couple of bucks but I learned on Friday that this gig doesn't even have a microphone. Comics bellow jokes at cornstalks posing as humans. Sept. 4 - Fredonia, KS White Buffalo Saloon

What Fredonia lacks in traffic lights, (it has none), it makes up for in meth labs. One has to drive 30 miles to find a theater, mall or sense of humor. The owners and staff are great. The bar is trying to bring something new to a town that has nothing but a Dollar General store. The opener was a great guy but he closed with, "the arms" which makes him a hack or a genius, I'm not sure which. he had a great set. I went on stage and was stared at for 5 straight minutes. i finally said, "My hair makes me look gay, right?", and the place went crazy. Then I continued to bomb like Enola Gay. I attempted a little crowd work. I found a guy that reminded me of a Confederate soldier taken prisoner at Gettsyburg, (the guy on the far right), though his beard was bigger. He left after 20 minutes. You know you're sucking when people leave in a town that doesn't have the internet. I wanted to bail at 30 but decided to punish them for the full 45. the opener sold 6 t-shirts to my 1. which is fine as I dont want the local over-developed, slow girl looking up at my t-shirt every time a Fredonia Bud-chugging yay-hoo gives her Scooby-doo stickers for a blowjob.

Sept.5, 6 - Topeka, KS Jeremiah Bullfrogs

FRI. One show each night. Dave Beck is opening. He's really funny and I haven't seen him in a decade. The gig is in a nice room at the back of a sports bar. The booker told me to be there at 7:00 for an 8:00 clock show. The show starts at 8:30 so I had an hour and a half to kill, so I went to my rental car to watch women throw themsleves at the outdoor cover band, and wonder how I was gonna get to the last $3 in my bank account. 40 people showed up. The room was built to be a jazz club but all the jazz fans in Topeka moved to Lawrence, KS or were shot. The showroom was hot as ass and smelled like the green room for Thunder from Down Under. I mentioned this on stage and the MC turned the AC on 40 minutes into my 55 minute act. The show went swimmingly but the opener sold 5 t-shirts to my 1. SAT. The gig is sold out but this could be because the outdoor cover band moved indoors due to the rain. I had a killer set and sold some t-shirts. A cop asked me to roast his friend, a former K-9 officer that had made detective. i texted 15 comic friends for jokes. I got 2 jokes back and 5 responses telling me various ways to go fuck myself. Did I mention there is a 10 minute intermission between Dave and me? Afterward a bacherolette with flavored condoms pinned to her shirt gave me a penis straw and a vanilla flavored condom.

There was a time when I'd leave a gig with a pocket fill o' cash and head to the local strip club. I LOVE strip clubs in small towns. The women they hire to strip couldn't get a job in New York City as a bag-lady. But those days are gone. I now look for hillbilly bars.

Gage Bowl Nothing says hillblilly like hanging out in a bowling alley bar at midnight on a Saturday. This bowling alley features "Cosmic Bolwling" which means the balls glow in the dark. Red laser lights illuminate the bowlers, who seem to have just come from a gingivitis convention. Half the people here are women and yet I am the prettiest in the place. Gage Bowl offers breakfast at 8:00 a.m. and I decide to show up for breakfast and bowl a quick game

Sept. 7- Gage Bowl Pt II. I realize the holes in bowling balls are breeding grounds for disease so I avoid Gage Bowl at the last minute.

On the positive side, I've been looking for a Members Only jacket from the 80's. I found a burgundy one in my size, (42) for $15 in Lawrence.

Next stop is Syracuse, NY. I'll only write about gigs if there is pain involved. Good night

Me in my new Members Only jacket, looking up to hide my Chin menagerie;

Dont you know me?
5197 Views

I have nothing interesting to say. Who cares if I like bulldogs, good scotch, double-espresso vodka and the Detroit Red Wings? If you're reading this you probably didn't pay your cable bill.