Smoke Clearing...

Oh man oh man oh man. I bombed tonight. Golly. Everyone else did great, but whew. I bombed so hard the children in the town are going to start developing deformities. Jesus Fucking Christ. What a Three Mile Island that show was. Godmotherfuckingzilla should arise from the ashes of that epic implosion. The crowd hated me. They loved everyone so much, when I got on stage, they stared at me like I had just Rickrolled them. And, baby, they did not want some Rick Astley in their business tree.

Mark Normand, cleaning up the stage after my set.

Mark and Alex were right that I chose the wrong jokes. But it's disheartening when the jokes with the hardest laughs are the hackiest ones in the set.

The good news is, I tried to apologize to many people as possible before I left. I think I did a good job of that. I'm good at apologizing. I'm sorry. See? Fucking smooth like brandy. The singer. Is she the one that killed a guy while driving? I think so. Oh man. Awkward.