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November 16

Capri Theatre
Adelaide, AU


November 18

Fly By Night Club
Perth, AU


November 19

Fly By Night Club
Perth, AU


November 22

Dallas Brooks Centre
Melbourne, AU


November 26

University of Auckland
Auckland, NZ
No other New Zealand cities/towns will be added






Picture this, Dear Reader -

You are traveling through airport security for the holidays with your 5 year-old when all of a sudden you are told that your kid needs to go through the new TSA body-scanner which will subject him to allegedly "low doses" of radiation which will allow a complete stranger to view his or her naked body privately - or if you refuse will allow a complete stranger to do a full body pat-down including breasts and genitals?

Which do you choose?

What thought is more disturbing?

Some Job Corps airport chump watching the x-ray images, getting a weeping erection staring at the images of your naked youngster? The idea that over a course of time these screenings could make your child look like a bullfrog with his new neck cancer? Or simply settle for the out-right humiliation of watching him be molested right in front of you while the other TSA goons shove you in the chest and direct you where to stand?

I can't believe this shit is going on right in front of my eyes, every fucking week I'm on the road. I can't believe that people sit there and take it.

Personally, I don't care if someone sees me naked - I've forced the image on more than should have had to see it. Nor do I give a fuck about radiation. I smoke enough that folks in Chernobyl would ask me to take it outside.

I don't even mind subjugating some dunce in a uniform to get down on his knees and pat at my asshole and sweating bag while pretending to control my libido.

I care that so many people don't care that it doesn't matter if I care or not. But that shit is turning around, at least for the moment. Ever since TSA has started the full-naked body scans with your choice of full body/genital pat-down, the public seems to show that it still has a nerve that can be struck. Some empty-chested filth at the airport with rubber gloves grappling between your grandmother's tits and colostomy bag made the idea of the lottery-odds of an underpants bomber seem insufficient to justify.

The "Let's roll" guy on 9/11 - fictional or not - would have a hard time choosing between watching his crying child look helplessly at him during a rough groping from some low-rung government flunkie or to just man-up and go down with the plane.

There are a million organizations now calling for people to opt-out of the body scanner and force TSA to either do pat-downs or allow them to go thru regular metal detectors or to not fly at all.

Opting out is one way to go. First of all, the number of people who would decide to not fly would be minimal and actually beneficial for TSA because there would be less of an evident problem. The scanners themselves are adding so much useless time to flying that throwing lengthy security rub-n-tugs on top of that would cripple air travel and be far more effective.

But don't just opt out for the holidays. Opt out every time you have the option. Opt out with a smile and a leer and groan when they slide over your sensitive parts.

Your other option is to play the part of the willing maroon who is happy to go through the scanner but can't get it right. This form of protest could be far more effective since it can prove the machinery itself to be too difficult to be useful. The body scanner requires far more nonsense to get through than normal metal detectors. Every single piece of metal has to be removed from rings to belts to random coins in your pocket. The thing will detect mercury in your stool from last night's sushi.

So all you need to do is dress the part of the turtle-necked first-time-flier with a dullard's grin and happily get into the scanner with as much metal paraphernalia on your person as possible. They will scan you and then chastise you for still having metal. Apologize earnestly, go back, remove SOME of the metal and try again. Keep Aw-shucksing, apologizing and fucking it up so that in the meantime they will divert the rest of the people through the regular security.

If people start missing their flights because of a handful of idiots, pressure will come down like a hammer from airlines and passengers alike.

Either way, remember - and remember this clearly - that to quietly accept the current TSA rules without protest is exactly the same as saying "It's perfectly okay with me for the government to ogle or fondle my child's sexual organs as well as rape my grandmother."


Exactly the same.

Now get to the airport early with a bleeding erection in thin white pants and show them how much you mean it when you scream "Freedom!"









I signed a deal with RoadRunner Records to begin their foray into
comedy. If you've never heard of RoadRunner - that's probably because nobody really hears about record companies since their was the center label of a 45 rpm spinning in the center of your turntable in 1981. But evidently they have a lot of huge bands and their check cleared so at this point it all looks good. I should have a new DVD out before your diabetes takes your legs.


Brendon Walsh is on Conan on Thanksgiving. He might be the only guy that would get me to watch a late night talk show. If you haven't seen the pic where Walsh bought a Fathead of himself, climbed a billboard in LA and added himself to the cast of some Top Chef show - well, then Google it. Or maybe I can find a link.


I'll get some kind of X-mas merch special going shortly. I mean, it's kind of a no-brainer. I don't give a fuck about Christmas either but evidently other folk have friends that require purchases so here I'll be - pulling open my raincoat to show you my latest wares. Come back soon or just do the easy thing and get on the mailing list.


Bisbee folks - Thanks for everyone who came together for Bingo's
surprise party. She's still talking about it and you guys are fucking
great. See you over the holidays.


2011 dates are starting to roll in. Get tix immediately or go stand in the corner and ponder on what you've done wrong.

Here's to a little closer to dead.





Why I do It


If you wonder why I still do this shit for a living, I'll show you one of the latest emails I got that makes me know I'm attracting the right people.

Date: Thu, 18 Nov 2010 02:40:27 -0700
Subject: will see you at Scottsdale show
From: ***********@********

Hey Doug,

Since I find you entertaining I feel like writing in hopes of entertaining you. I'm coming out to see you in Scottsdale next month. Hubby and I live in NM and we'll be driving our RV. It looks funky so I've attached a picture.

I'm a sex worker and for your show last year in Denver I dressed up a sissy in lingerie to pay for the trip. This time around I pissed in an old man's mouth to fund the RV to come to AZ. It seems appropriate to come see your act.



I've been trying to use local openers on the road when I can so please feel free to direct my attention to decent up-n-comers in places I'm playing. I'm looking for the weird guy at the local shows that the comics run in to watch but the comedy clubs seem to ignore. I could just look at people's shit online but generally the guy that is really dark-odd-vulgar funny doesn't have shit online and has to take a bus to the gig. Obviously when I ask online about new funny people in whatever town I'm going, people are quick to cough up their own name - understandably - but tell me about the guy who stares at his feet at the open mics but has all the shit that makes the comics laugh. I don't have to have an opener but I love watching those guys and it doesn't matter to me if they kill or eat shit.

I've found Junior Stopka in Chicago via comedians word of mouth as well as Warren B Hall in Indy and Steve Poggi in STL. All were really funny with really fucked stories. Keep sending me names or links - but not your own. If you're that guy - someone will speak up for you.





"This reminds me of the reason I went into rehab."

Those were the last words Greg Giraldo said to me.

It was in July of 2008 after I'd been removed from the green room of a show at the Montreal Comedy Festival. I'd had an argument with the cunty little man that ran the event - or, rather, he had an argument with me and I calmly - if drunkenly - stood my ground that essentially he treated comics like migrant lettuce pickers. Becoming increasingly frustrated at missing on all points, he had a large Negro physically remove me.

Hey, he started it. I was just having cocktails backstage with Ron White. And you will never appear correct in an argument if you are the drunk one. 2 plus 2 equals nothing if you're saying 4 with a tilt and a slur.

By the time I ran into Giraldo and a couple other comics on the street, I was a stumbling wreck; one of those drunks that hits too quick and affects all of your motor skills while leaving your brain
intact, a cerebral palsy-type of hammered or the "Muhammad Ali" if you will.

My story about being ejected from the venue came out of the corner of my mouth like stammering drool and that's when Greg made his rehab remark. I was a bit insulted as drunks tend to be when their point is over-looked because of their staggering.

And I was quite relieved when someone emailed not long afterwards that they'd seen Greg perform so shit-faced that he barely made sentences. It's nice to know that you aren't the only comedian left with a cocktail in your hand.

Prescription drugs are also a constant for me and it's bothersome when people die from them because you are never given the specific doses or combinations involved and that is information that can really be useful to other users. A heroin overdose tells you nothing since the potency or purity of the heroin can vary wildly. Prescription drugs aren't cut with baby laxative. You know exactly what strength you are taking so you can regulate with far more accuracy.

I first took Xanax at an ecstasy party in Alaska somewhere in the late 1990s. We were all coming down and someone gave me a blue (1mg) and told me it would help me sleep. Shortly afterwards, somebody else gave me another making it a full bar of Xanax where .5 mg would have been plenty.

Long story short, I pissed the couch I was sleeping on and woke up convinced (for a short time) that someone had pissed on me in my sleep. Those were the kind of friends I did drugs with - that'd  be the kind of thing they might do.

But since then I've taken Xanax more and more, occasionally at first and then regularly to sleep. I have a prescription for flight anxiety. I didn't tell my doctor that a lot of that fear comes in the form of flying in my dreams which is far scarier because you have no airplane when you fly in your dreams, just your body sailing through the air giving the finger to an angry mob of violent assholes chasing you on the ground. My regular flight anxiety as involved with traveling is mostly the fear of having some dullard next to me try to strike up conversation. Xanax and ear plugs work for that as well.

I also have a prescription for Ambien which I use less often and which can be dangerous when mixed with alcohol in that you can do really weird shit and not remember any of it. I can give you countless stories that I've heard from other people - taking it with a few whiskeys on his couch and waking up on someones lawn in a strange neighborhood - but I can't tell you stories of my own because I wouldn't remember them.

Once I took an Ambien (6.25 mg I believe) at home when my manager was at the house and I thought that I was relatively sober and went to bed. But not long after, I got back out of bed and had long business conversations with Brian who said that I was completely lucid and alert and was dumb-struck when I told him that I had no recollection of it whatsoever.

Scary - but not "die in your sleep" scary.

That's why it would nice to know what kind of pills, dosages and
combination you scrip-heads are taking generally and what mixture killed you.

Right now I rotate between Xanax ( usually 1mg, never more than 2), Ambien (6.25 mg - I don't think I've ever taken more than one) and the hugely under-rated over-the-counter nighttime sleep aid (2 pills.) I only take this shit to sleep and that supermarket stuff knocks your dick into your sleep-number bed as good as any of em. I've combined in small does - say .5 mg Xanax with an OTC or an Ambien but nothing risky.

I'll add that this is always with some amount of alcohol, from a couple drinks to a shitload. So add that into the equation and play at your own risk.

I also do a very occasional bump of coke (usually in Florida or Texas where it seems to be saturated) or ecstasy (usually in Florida or Alaska or Texas where it seems to be rampant) and sometimes acid or mushrooms if I have days off and a safe and comfortable environment.

But I don't do a lot of (illegal) drugs. It might seem like I do
because I talk about drug use a lot. If I do some coke before a show, I will invariably say that I've done coke so people will understand why I might be somewhat more erratic in my train of thought - the same as a singer might explain that they've been fighting a cold so the crowd understands why they are avoiding high notes. I also thinks it's important in that it shows that the majority of people can use drugs socially and recreationally without becoming raving addicts and lunatics.

Prescription drugs are a different animal and an openness about how people are using them would make them a hell of a lot safer for the people who use them for reasons other than prescribed. If you tell me you drank three shots of Jager and four pints of Guinness, I have a good idea how drunk you are. If you tell me you took three Klonopin and four Oxycodone, I have no idea if you'll sleep like a princess or die in your own sick.

Greg Giraldo was - as someone pointed out to me on Facebook - smarter and funnier than I'll ever be. I didn't know him well but I was a huge fan.

The last time we spoke he said I looked like the reason he went to rehab. The last thing I would have said to him would have been "Just take two of these. Two of these things is more than plenty."

The worst he'd have done is pissed the couch.