Okay, this blog entry is fueled by pure rage.
Question: What's the difference between tonights late show audience and the studio audience at the Jerry Springer Show?
Answer: Jerry Springer's audience is slightly more sophisticated.
Here's how the show went this evening.
I won't tell you which state I'm in, but it's one of the states that's closest to Cuba.
Me: Here's a terrifying statistic.
Audience: (Talking loudly to each other)
Me: Each year, 27 people are killed by soda vending machines.
Audience: (talking loudly to each other)
Me: The scary part, we don't know who these people are going to be. Could be you!
Audience: (looking drunkenly up at me) "Huh?"
Audience: Did he use the 'F' word?
Audience: He sucks.
Audience: Yeah. We're F-in' funnier than him
Audience: (resumes talking loudly to each other)
Tomorrow, they will remember nothing that I said; only that they didn't like it.
Audience to Friends: We saw a lousy comedian last night.
Friends: What did he say.
Audience: No idea.
Friends: You are so cool.
I've had bad audiences before. They weren't the best bad audience I've ever had. I've had much better bad audiences. If you're striving to be an excellent bad audience, you have to work as a group. Collectively you must endeavor to break down my spirit. It can't be done by simply ignoring me during my set.
At one point in the show, I suggested that they all go next door and buy movie tickets then stand around in the lobby and have a conversation during the film. Then they could go to work and talk about the movie.
Audience to Friends: We saw a lousy movie last night.
Friends: What was it about?
Audience: No idea.
There was a table of about 8 drunk guys right next to the stage. They didn't think I was very funny and basically informed me of that. I can't tell you how important it is to me to have the approval of eight drunken strangers. They don't like me!? I'll have to change my whole act!!!!
Here's how this is all going to end up.
I've got a wife and four kids who absolutely adore me. I make them laugh regularly (granted, sometimes I have to resort to tickling). My real friends are still going to call me and ask me to go eat Chinese food with them. When it's all said and done, the blood of Christ is going to buy me a ticket to heaven for all eternity.
...and then when I'm asked what all the rage was about, I'll say:
I have no idea.