Amazing shows tonight. I should’ve taken pictures since they’re worth a thousand words and I don’t even know why I started writing. Let me explain. One day my son had a tee ball game, and he hit the ball so hard that it line drived right into some kid’s gut. (I’m the Coach) We stopped game and made sure the other child was alright. He was and we continued the game. What we didn’t do was checkout my guy to make sure he was alright, which he wasn’t. On his next at bat, everyone’s yelling to move back, “remember what happened last time!” Everyone is ready for him to crush it, then he hits this little dribbler and I could tell he didn’t try his hardest. I called a mini timeout and pulled him to the side. In our conversation, he reveals to me that he was afraid that he would hurt someone again. I told him that I know it doesn’t feel good to hurt anyone, but you work on this everyday, so you have to accept this greatness that you’ve created. Sometimes, I want things for others, but it’s my son who help me understand that I’m working everyday and that’s why the gates are open. It doesn’t Just happen, and you can never be afraid to accept that keys to the path that you created. AND when you have a gift, it’s your duty to nurture it.
I performed tonight and it went really well. Signed a few autographs for ppl who simply believed in my future. They didn’t care about credits, they just decided they wanted me to sign stuff for them. I don’t think all the people really wanted autographs, I think the others saw what was happening and decided that made sense for them as well. Nothing is weird to me anymore, I’ve had people wait outside to “accidentally” run into me for a conversation. I’ve had people flag me to pull over in traffic. Tonight a woman asked was my mother a comedian b/c she thinks she knows her. I said I don’t think so, unless my mom is touring behind my back. Most of the time, the world moves too fast for me, but anything comedy related goes really slow. Sometimes I feel like I’m wasting energy trying to figure out the world. Doesn’t matter, I’m living off of so much love that comes to me constantly. I’m incredibly grateful, and still trying to figure out why. Why?
I’m having a conversation in my twitter DM w/ a woman who I believe to be a prostitute, b/c well, she told me. She says she lives in Reno and would love to ‘Cum see me at my show,’ and afterwards I could come to the Dennis Hof Love Ranch North. Should I offer free tickets in hopes that I don’t have to pay to get in the Ranch? #TheBarterSystem She keeps emphasizing that I don’t have to party, I can just come have a drink. Is it possible to go to the Ranch and just have a drink? Thoughts?
Ish is crazy sometimes. One night I had this dude host one of my shows. Anyone whose ever been to one of my shows knows that I’ll have a t-shirt planted on stage prior to my walkup so I can have my hands free to hold a latte or a sharpie, you know, star shit. At the end of the show, I showed the audience the shirt and left it on stage and walked off like a champ. I found out later, so did he. (FastForward 20 min in the lobby) I see him and I’m like, “Oh yeah, what happened to that shirt?” First he stared, then he looked behind himself like the answer was back there, and then he gave me that laugh, you know the one… the one that means, “Damn, he remembered.” This dude dug in his pocket and pulled out $30. I was like, “You Sold My Shirt?!?!?” Not only was he a thief, but a dishonest bastard. I was only selling them for $20.
Wait… I can get $30 for them?
The homie used to mess with this ghetto ass stripper he met at Showgirls on Auburn. She was a blonde white chick w/ a Mexican accent. She was still dancing as an Amateur so she didn’t have a stage name yet. One night I was sitting on his stairs and he wasn’t answering his phone, and she didn’t have the apartment gate code, so she climbed the wall (8 ft) to get in his apartments. I was like, TF!” She had on her stripper clothes and a beige trench coat like a stripper Inspector Gadget about to solve a sex crime. Then she jumped and nailed the landing like she had done this before. I just remembered that for some reason.
Everyone thinks they have the most difficult life, you wake up believing you have the most problems. You wanna hear about problems… well in 1993 Michael Jordan retired temporarily and poor Pete Myers had to live in his shadows. Every game, fans watched him and said, “You are not Michael Jordan.” Pete couldn’t miss a shot without someone yelling, “Pass the fuc%$*g ball Pete!” You know how bad it was? Nobody bought his jersey, companies never offered to make his shoes, spelled his damn name wrong on his own trading cards. They say he was known for inventing the saying, “My bad.” Pete taught me that sometimes doing your best is not enough. It’s ok to quit if no one notices you. #MEWHistory
This happens to me quite often, so I decided to share it. I was sitting next to this lady with a young toddler in the airport, and the kid keeps coming to me to play, he’s cracking up having a ball, while I’m just sitting there straight faced not saying or doing anything, but he’s having the time of his life. I assume it’s because I look like the real live version of one of his favorite morning cartoon characters. This kid had amazing energy and the Mother was clearly running out of patience, trying to keep him from bothering me. I’m not saying I’m always like this, but this time I wasn’t bothered and I said, “He’s fine.” When he came over to hang out with me, I could tell she could use a break, and I also understand she didn’t want to be bothersome. Is it out of line for you to hold strangers kids?
Silence really speaks volumes, but I don’t really trust anything. Colin Kaepernick begins his style of protesting, and strong feelings are felt on both sides. There’s people in disbelief that black people are treated differently from other US citizens, and then barely two games into the season two more black men are murdered at the hands of the police. The timing is too coincidental and overbearingly numbing. It feels like a narrative that’s being created by something using low mental capacity as pawns. I’m far from a conspiracy theorists, I’m just an observer of life, and all this feels designed, orchestrated, and terrifying for black skin.
I’m mad at the lady from Delta who told me my carry-on bag wasn’t gonna fit. I knew it would fit b/c I was counting how many people were bringing on bags, and I just knew it. I allow them to take it from me b/c I don’t want to be a problem being black and all, and then I get on the flight and there’s all kinds of open bins. Now I’m heated, but I’m not gonna express my anger b/c the most important part is the safety of the flight. To be honest, I think Delta is up to something sneaky. They’ve done this to me twice in my last three flights, but whatever.