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September 27

Plaza Hotel & Casino
Las Vegas, NV


October 8

El Paso Comic Strip Comedy Club
El Paso, TX


October 9

Albuquerque, NM


October 10

GoldenLight Cantina
Amarillo, TX


October 13

Outland Ballroom
Springfield, MO


October 14

Deja Vu Comedy Club
Columbia, MO


October 15

Jukebox Comedy Club
Peoria, IL


October 16

Rock Island Brewing Company
Rock Island, IL


October 17

Reggie's Live
Chicago, IL


October 18

Reggie's Live
Chicago, IL


October 20

Dr. Grins @ The BOB
Grand Rapids, MI


October 21

Pittsburgh Improv
Pittsburgh, PA


October 22

Snickerz Comedy Club
Fort Wayne, IN


October 23

Cleveland Improv
Cleveland OH


October 24

The Machine Shop
Flint, MI


October 25

The Token Lounge
Detroit, MI


November 11

The Greek Club
Brisbane, AU


November 12

Venue TBA
Canberra, AU


November 14

UNSW Roundhouse
Sydney, AU


November 16

Capri Theatre
Adelaide, AU


November 18

Fly By Night Club
Perth, AU


November 22

Dallas Brooks Centre
Melbourne, AU



Happy New Year, Dopes.

And thus begins the journal on this site, one I plan to keep up regularly - just like i plan on losing weight and cutting down on the smokes and exercising and getting younger.


I spent the week up to New Years as I often do, blown out of my tit on a wide assortment of narcotics in the Great State of Alaska. I got to Anchorage X-mas night around last call, making it the only night I didn't go to sleep reeling in intoxication. More on the drugs and cruel sodomy later.


The Year In Review, 2001, was more good than bad, even taking into account the death of my father and that this is the first year I got a sunburn on my scalp. Betsy gave me an overdue out of our relationship in June just in time for that old Renee to come creeping back around. I always fall madly in love with her and she's not nearly as into it as I am. You all know what a drag that can be. She still comes around and gives me false hope and I still bite but in the meanwhile it ain't like I kept my dick in a jug.


The break-up left a brief lull for a short while like they always do followed by a multi-state pooning spree that made me think comedy was actually fun again. Thanks to all those involved. Every time I fuck myself into a relationship, I realize that I'd had the perfect life all along. I have met and now know some of the most incredible women you can imagine and occasionally we fuck. Never an argument, never the stink-eye, never a problem. No judgments or jealousy. Perfect. Until some Renee shows up and takes a gorgeous dump on the whole idea.


Taped a new CD in October which should be ready in February, although it'll be with a temporary cover. The artwork won't get done til April. Title is "Die Laughing". Fuck off if you don't like it. In the meantime, buy my old ones here or, if you're a cheap fuck and have time, you can usually grab tracks off of Morpheus. If you don't have it, it's better than Napster. Get it at Music City.


I was returning from a Tribble run in Montana with Mat Becker, proof positive that you can't go home again, when I heard about the WTC attacks. Wild shit but after the last year or two of reading alternative press and, for lack of a better term, conspiracy theorists, it is impossible for any sane person to jump on the flag-happy mongoloid bus.


If you do anything worthwhile today, order "You Are Being Lied To" from Disinfo. It's a compilation of essays from 40-some authors ranging from Zinn to Chomsky regarding the disinformation you're fed daily from Jesus to OKC, from the public school system, mass media to the war on drugs and much more. It'll fuck up everything you thought you knew about. Then keep reading from there. Educate yourself.


Back to Alaska. I've being going up to Anchorage for 6 years now, every year for the holidays as well as other trips during the year. The first trip will have to go in a story by itself. Most of the good Alaska stories I don't tell without witnesses present, as they seem to far-fetched. It really is the last frontier.


Every year since '95 we've had a traditional ecstacy party during Christmas week, about 12 - 15 of us that get together at a house and boil our brains with drugs, love and partial nudity. It's what I look forward to every year.


Last year we had to skip it, too many of the main players having personal life-shit going down. This year we doubled up. In six days I polluted myself with coke, x, shrooms, pot, xanax, loritab and more liquor than a dozen sweatshop livers could process in a Jakarta workweek.


I'm not a big drug guy during the year, mostly just a drunk. Rules don't apply in Alaska and it's funny, I always feel better after a drug binge than a regular night on the sauce. The later parts of 2001 brought a nice run of mushrooms, though, and I would do mushrooms any day of the week without hesitation. Was eating 'em right on stage in Vancouver where they make em into chocolates. Nice trip that night, building fires on the waterfront with some hobo.


So I thought it would be fun to do shrooms on stage in Alaska for New Years Eve. The crowds I get there are small, room only seats about 60-70, and most of them are familiar with what I do so I didn't see where it could go that wrong. Of course, I never took into account New Years Eve crowds. Although the room I play at Chilkoot Charlies may be small, the bar itself is a combination of 8 different bars under one low ceiling and people will wait in line at 20 below on weekends to get in. Add New Years Eve and you have a mass wandering pig sty of losers and rookies wandering in and out, blowing horns and not ready to accept that this is just another night in their miserable lives. Mushrooms are not the right drug for this night. Other drugs make YOU fucked up. Shrooms make other people fucked up to you. And these people didnt even try to disguise it.


Becker is shrooming too but can't tell anyone cuz he's gotta bartend there after doing the show. He goes up to do his 20 minutes, freaks out after two jokes and bails. I go up and freak out after about four jokes but am forced to suffer thru another hour with the owner and his Mom sitting right up front. Talk about buzzkill.


I eat another big cap and stem right after I get off stage and head for the loft bar above the south side where my friend Colleen's disco band is about to play. The place is a wall-to-wall nightmare. I sit in the far corner with a few of my friends who are stuck being go-go dancers for the band and are as thrilled as I am to be there. Some are X-ing, some are tripping, others just getting sauced. All of us are waiting fro the countdown so we can get the fuck out. At some point I had to piss violently but couldn't bring myself to make the long walk from the loft bar thru the maze of jugheads to a bathroom. JJ, the world's greatest lesbian and her galpal Jax, trippers on the pro circuit, said not to worry and produced a plastic party hat and held it for me at groin level so that i could empty off the urgent part of my bladder. Never batted an eye. Just handed it to Bart behind the bar and asked him to throw it away. Bart used to trip before the cunt got married. He knows how things go, scowl or no scowl.


One little girl with a pierced tongue who has been hanging out all week is liqoured up and dancing all over me. She screams "victim" and I tell her so. She just smiles and writhes some more.


At midnight we all hit the stage and yell an uninspired happy new year and I grab this girl and head for the door. My friend Longo is fullfilling her go-go obligation and says she'll meet up with us at my hotel when she's done firing off the toilet paper cannon into the mob.


I eat a few more stems into the room and start making a subtle play for the victim girl, who tells me "Stop acting like you've never done this before " as she starts undoing my pants. She's got me there.


My bags are packed for my flight that leaves in about five hours. One of those bags was filled with a full inventory of smut-shop sex toys, the bag that I'd packed and purposely brought up as a carry-on hoping to make a spectacle of airport security. It hadn't been searched but it was certainly gonna come in handy now.


The girl tells me she wants to be tied up and I was glad to oblige but I was just too fucked up to figure out all the clasps and ties and whatnot so I eventually had one hand in a wrist-to-thigh restraint and the other wasn't tied to anything so I jut held it behind her back. Nothing Houdini couldn't get out of, but then again, Houdini wasn't getting fucked in the ass during any of his escape attempts.


I spend some more time stuffing different latex items in different holes, more out of high amusement than anything else, when there's a knock on the door. Longo! I open the door spook-eyed with a boner and a smile. "You gotta watch this!" and I know if there's some who like to watch , it's Longo. Unfortunatley she has her drug-buddy Dean with her which instantly robs me of a nice Viagra-free hard-on.


They aren't so fucked up and agree to take over the duty of tying up this poor youngster. Nobody bats an eye at this shit in Alaska. Just another weird day. They start twsiting up bed sheets and pulling out television cables and before you know, girlie is pinned wrists and ankles, butt naked and spread out like a snow angel.


"I wanna watch you fuck her." says Longo, more like she's studying apes than in any sexual way but a turn-on none the less. Unfortunately Dean does too and he's a big goofy Flounder from Animal House and he's ruining it.


I try jabbing her once or twice but I cant get past the audience and I'm laughing too much so Longo and Dean head to the after-party at Colleens and I dump one off in this sweet young girls rectum, re-pack and head for the party.


Happy New Year


It might help to know that a couple days prior this same girl drove me and Becker to get colonics after doing morning radio. We'd met a girl at the Thursday show who, after I complained yet again about my pained liver, suggested we come to her work for a nice, detoxifying colonic. We obliged and I had the victim and Becker both in the room when I was told to "Lift your cheek, you're going to feel some pressure." They laughed for the next 45 minutes and I was violated and pumped free of "toxins". When it was Mat's turn to go, straddled and sweating on the table in his gown, the fucking hot water heater had gone south and they couldn't do it. Motherfucker. never let Mat Becker go second.


Point being, it was a nice feeling when I eventually said to the victim girl, "Lift your cheek, your going to feel some pressure."


We go to Colleen's where its always very mellow and suck down a handful of nitris hits to take the edge off. Whippits on shrooms are a beautiful near death experience that can't be good for you at all. I did all I could.


I got out for my 6 am flight and it was all I could do not to just turn around, get in a cab and stay in Alaska forever. It's harder and harder to leave that place every time I go.


I took a Xanax and a half before I got on the plane and didn't wake up til the plane hit dirt in LA.


I never felt better.


My New Years resolution had been to try and save more money but i think I may try to do more drugs as well. Maybe spend more time in Alaska in the summer.


In the meantime, I'll be heading to Costa Rica on the 16th with Becker for a week.


Remember, it's not whether you win or lose - as long as you wake up with a good story.




Epilogue To Sicko

Thanks for listening to SICKO. SICKO was taped live in November of 1998 at the Laff Stop in Houston. It was actually my second CD. The first, THE GREAT WHITE STANHOPE was done through Uproar records in 1997 and was an all-around steaming piece of shit. I had no hand in the producing of the first album and it suffered as a result. SICKO is what the first album was supposed to be and it includes all of the better material from that album. The majority of the material on SICKO you won’t hear me do on stage anymore.

I’m working on my new album to be taped in May of 2000.Stay tuned. In the meantime, here’s some interesting facts, insights and updates regarding SICKO, track by track..

First is the only credit I forgot to put on the CD and that is the voice introducing me. That, ladies and gentlemen, is Sean Rouse of Houston, one of the funniest new comedians I’ve worked with ever.

NO HOLDS BARRED. If you hear me opening with this chunk of material anymore, you know I’m playing scared. Not that I don’t think it’s funny but to hear body piercing jokes today is as easy as (insert euphemism here).

MOM. Mom, while no longer living with me, still lives off of me. I’ve moved two apartments down in the same building, so she can shuffle in four or five times a day for no particular reason. I still can’t jack off without someone standing lookout. Mother is like a stalker girlfriend that I have to support financially. She tried her hand at stand-up comedy but quit before she was forced to stop by Amnesty Int’l.. She’s getting into acting and actually doing quite well. Watch for her in an upcoming Suburu commercial, and watch for me pissing all over myself not having to pay her bills that month. Two of the cats have died with one on it’s way out. That will leave only four to go.

SOMEONE’S BEEN SLEEPING IN MY BED. A true story about following Jason Stuart into the St.Louis Funnybone condo. I told Jason about the bit and he didn’t seem overly amused. Either way.

FUCKIN TRUCKERS. This bit was absolute therapy when I drove to most of my gigs. If you can’t do the speed limit, get off the fucking road. I stopped doing the bit when I started flying everywhere. I can’t drum up the necessary anger to do it anymore but thought it belonged on the CD for those listening on the road. A CB radio is always nice to have too, so you can tell them when they’re driving like cunts.

ECSTASY. The only bullshit story on the CD. It actually happened in Sacramento and there was no melon involved. I’d done ecstasy once around 1988 and had the best time of my life but could never find it again until 1993 or 94 when I was working at Knuckleheads in Sacramento and met a guy who had some. I was so excited that I took it on the spot, ignoring the fact that I had no one to talk to, much less get touchy feely with. So I went back to the condo, burned out my prepaid calling card and then masturbated in the most inventive and shameful of ways. I changed the bit to Alaska out of respect for the small group of friends that I still do Ecstasy with every year at Christmas, about the only time I do drugs at all anymore. And in a controlled environment with the proper planning, X is the one drug to do when you’re doing only one.

FOR THE MAN WHO HAS EVERYTHING. True story. Stuck my dick in a lot of other sex toys since. Rubber Vagina, Life size latex head with open vibrating mouth (another gag-gift, this one from comic Tim Mitchell), a blow up doll. Save your money. None of them work. You’ll just end up jacking off the old fashioned way and feeling dirty in the morning.

THE PERFECT GIRL. The perfect girl you may know as Khrystyne Haje or as Simone, the character she played on the t.v. show Head Of The Class. We finally broke up for good in July of 99 and she’s now living with some unemployed scientologist.We are still good friends and I still talk to her occasionally when she can sneak away from him and use the phone (he’s a tad jealous).And she wasn’t completely perfect. She may have been one of People Magazines 50 Most Beautiful people but she had an ass that couldn’t get day shift in a bad tittie bar. (only trace bitterness)

TITS ARE ILLEGAL. A bit that I still do frequently, as it is a subject (vice laws) that I’m very passionate about. Maybe that’s why I’m always whipping my dick out in public. But then again, probably not.

SMOKE THIS! Smoking is the only thing I’ve done that I can really say that I regret. I quit and made it 12 days at New Years but I’m right back up to two packs plus a day. And I will continue to hate non-smokers until I can finally become one of you. Pricks.

TERRIBLE PIECE OF ASS. I’ve since tried Viagra and it cures whiskey dick like a finger in the ass could only dream of. And you can order it right out of those ads in the sports pages. They ask you a couple of medical questions, bang your credit card and in a few days, as Captain Rowdy says “you can drink a bottle of formaldehyde and still knock a hole in a tree with your dick”. I strongly recommend it.

THE BANANA LADY. Absolutely true. And still working as far as I’ve been told. I’m scheduled to go back there in June 2000 and will check in on her.

SICKO. Yes, I fucked a midget. And it was a midget, not a dwarf. Midgets are proportionate although I still call dwarfs midgets, too. I met her after a show at the Knuckleheads in Phoenix and took her out drinking. We ended up at her place but were far too drunk to even bother trying so we just passed out. The next morning I woke up and looked at her and thought “Well, I’ve come this far just to get the story...”. So I fucked her in that on-our-sides-from-behind morning position so there’s no morning breath involved. It was pretty icky. She had no hips and little prepubescent nub titties, so it looked like fucking an awkward ten year old boy. I wouldn’t recommend it unless you’re in love.That was around 1992 and I remember her name was Linda.

THE TRANSVESTITE HOOKER INCIDENT. Again, true down to the dialogue. What can I say?

BIG DICK DREAMS. My brother is the only one I know other than myelf that commonly has these dreams. Maybe it runs in the family. It’s not Martin Luther King’s dream but it still sucks to get woken up from.

$5. All right. Maybe it was one true story too many. But you gotta close on something. All in all I like the way it came out. A little too rushed, maybe. I think I say “ya know” more than I say “fuck”. The next album will be a little less frenetic. But it will be just as honest.

My new girlfriend has given me shit about claiming such brutal honesty but exaggerating on how small my penis is. My penis is about 5 and 3/4 inches whilst erect, depending on how much I’ve had to drink.

There, now I’ve cleaned the slate. Thanks for listening.


Apology to David Rothenberg

So, I’m at the Improv in L.A. one night, half in the bag and waiting for my late night spot in front of the twenty or so tired people left in the audience.

I’m sitting in the back with a few friends when I notice a guy at the table next to me wearing a WW1 style leather aviators cap with the goggles on the top.

At first glance he appears to be a hundred years old but then I realize he’s not old, he’s a burn victim. I’m’ not talking about a hot cup of coffee in the groin, either. There was nothing left of this kid, no digits, no features.

It’s my turn on stage and, as the MC introduces me, the entire group of twenty people left in the front of the room decide it’s time to go home. They’re all walking out as I get to the microphone and, without thinking, I yell “Hey, you can’t all leave now! The only person left is the burn victim in the aviators cap and the only reason it looks like he’s laughing is ‘cause he’s got no lips!”

Needless to say, it didn’t get a laugh, along with the rest of my set, and when I got off stage the manager read me the riot act. Evidently this kid, who was a regular at the Improv, walked out crying. It turns out that this is the same kid who made national news back in the early eighties when his father set him on fire in a hotel room to get back at his mother.

I tried briefly to defend myself, saying that anyone who doesn’t want to draw attention to themselves doesn’t walk around wearing a leather skull cap with goggles, especially in a comedy club. If you’re going to show your tits at a Stones concert, be ready to fuck the band.

Had he laughed, that might have made it all right. But he didn’t laugh. He cried and for that I’m an asshole and I apologize.

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