Tired

I’m officially tired… sorry for the delay in writing this blog but I’ve been busy. I’ve been to Melbourne to visit the Melbourne International Comedy Festival. Festival time is always a tough time for a comedian. There are shows and drinking and reviewers and drinking and audiences and drinking and other stuff and most importantly there is a little drinking.

The Melbourne festival is like all other comedy festivals in the world in that it has THE hangout that you totally have to go to. It’s normally a particular bar or gig that everyone who’s anyone goes to on a nightly basis to party. I shouldn’t go to parties as a rule anyway. This isn’t because I don’t like parties; it’s because every party has at least one absolute dick-weed that I always end up stuck talking to. It’s my own fault. I start talking to them by accident and after realising that they’re a dick-weed I like to see how long I can be flat out rude to them before they notice. Normally they don’t notice.

That’s the thing about a dick-weed: their immense ego precludes them from immediately thinking that someone thinks they’re a dick-weed. The larger the dick-weed the longer it takes for them to look past their ego and realise I think they’re a dick-weed. Luckily a comedy festival has enough ego on display for someone like me to be an absolute asshole to pretty much everyone without anyone thinking much about it.

I would love to tell you stories about how I told that untalented guy who’s on TV all the time how much everyone (and by everyone I mean me) hates him. But unfortunately I didn’t do that this time. I didn’t go to THE bar for the entire time I was there. I didn’t get involved in all of the ego stroking and drug taking. Instead I had a good time.

I sat down in a quiet hotel bar with a handful of my favourite comedians, none of whom are untalented nor are they on TV as often as they should be. We drank, not excessively but consistently. We went and had average Chinese food at night and a rather scrumptious hot chocolate during the day. We chatted about life. Sure we chatted about the festival and about each other’s careers but we cared about what the other person was saying and honestly asked for others opinions. Dull hey!!!

It’s not that I didn’t want to tell the dick-weeds that they were dick-weeds. I wanted to, a couple of times I was just drunk enough to tell them what everyone (and again I mean me) thinks about them. But I didn’t. I didn’t spend any time with anyone that I didn’t genuinely like. I have spent all day today trying to figure out why and I have just worked it out. I am at the same stage with comedians as my parents are with me.

There is a point in every parent’s life, and my parents are there now, where they realise that they no longer have to give a shit about the crap that their children are saying. Sure they’ll listen, but it’s clear that it’s not all going in. They still care about certain things but on a whole they have stopped pretending to give a shit about things that they don’t give a shit about.

That’s where I am with other comedians and people in general. Mostly I don’t give a shit about them. I have my friends and I’m making new friends with new people but only the nice ones. If you’re thinking, ‘we talk regularly it must be because we give a shit what the other person is saying,’ you’re probably right. I probably do care about what you say. Although I might not. It’s entirely possible that you’re a massive dick-weed. But luckily for both of us, you’re probably too much of a dick-weed to notice.

Google update:

I failed. I don’t know how you did but it wasn’t until writing this blog that I remembered I was going to avoid google and all search engines for a week. I don’t think I can do it. I avoided all the dick-weeds and dick-weeds tend to google themselves a lot so I guess I avoided a lot of google based ego… surely that’s a little victory.