Fuck, it’s been a while since I’ve written one of these.
I’ve been writing. Short stuff. Working on jokes. Still hitting my two mics a week. But since finishing *Loading Identity*, a lot of the comedy work has felt pretty ordinary. Got some showcases in St. Louis. Did Orlando. Kept working. Some new bits, some adjustments, a whole lot of doing the same shit until I could do it better.
I don’t always feel like writing the same post over and over.
This week gave me some things I wanted to get down.
I went to Hollywood with my Quantum Expansion group. Good trip for that alone. But I also went with the intention of doing as much comedy as I could fit around everything else.
Before I get into it, I need to thank Kimbrough.
Fucking sweet guy. I met him through PodFest in Orlando, where he runs the comedy open mic. Somehow I ended up on that comedy panel, and that put me around him and some other good people. Before this trip, I reached out and asked if he could help me find some spots.
He came through in a big way.
I got into Hollywood Wednesday around five. Had to get the rental car, find the Airbnb, get checked in, figure out where the fuck I was. By the time I was settled, it was seven or eight.
I’d done a little research. Not enough. I figured I’d get there, see what was close, and start trying. New guy in town. No reason to expect anybody to put me up.
Then I found The Hollywood Comedy on Melrose. They use Slotted, where you can book an available five- or ten-minute spot.
Well, fuck. I can buy ten minutes and know I’m going up?
Done.
Booked the eleven o’clock mic that first night.
Dark room. Late Wednesday. Not a whole lot of people. And for whatever reason, I got up there and did some jokes I hadn’t had the courage to do before.
I don’t know if it was being out of town. Being in Hollywood. Being in a little room where hardly anybody knew me. Something let me try them.
Some worked. Some didn’t. But I said them.
I gave that room the best ten minutes I could give it. Committed to the material. Had some good conversations afterward. Started meeting people.
There was a comic named George I met during the trip. Funny guy. Later, I saw him closing the open mic at the Comedy Store. I’m terrible with names, but I remembered him.
That started happening. Faces became familiar. I’d see somebody at one room and then see them somewhere else.
Thursday, I got fitted for a tux. Because apparently that was also on the schedule this week.
Did an early set at The Hollywood Comedy, went over to the Fourth Wall, then went back to The Hollywood Comedy for the eleven o’clock slot.
That late one was me and one other dude.
They weren’t really running the clock. I think I did twenty minutes. Maybe more. I got to talk through things, stretch some stories, try tags, see where I could find another laugh.
I don’t get that kind of opportunity to practice ten-minute sets over and over in St. Louis. So while I had access to it, I used it.
The Hollywood Comedy is a fucking awkward name for me to say, by the way. Every time I say it, I feel like I’ve left a word out. But I spent enough time there this week that I should probably learn how to get it out of my mouth.
I learned a lot about cutting.
That’s a whole different art form. I can tell a story for seven minutes. Then I find the actual jokes in it and realize I can get the thing down to a minute.
A good fucking minute.
I was working on that again today. Looking at something that used to take all that time and realizing how little explanation the joke actually needs.
The way I’ve been doing it starts with a real story. Something that happened to me. I tell it, and at first, sometimes I’m the only one laughing because I remember how funny it felt when it happened.
Then I start finding the punchlines. Changing things. Pushing the story around. You’re allowed to make shit up in a joke. It’s comedy.
Once I know where the laugh is, I can work backward and see how much setup it really needs. Sometimes it’s three lines. Premise, setup, punchline. All that talking I thought I needed can come out.
I still like telling the longer stories. I like the room you have inside them. But I’m starting to have both versions available, and that feels useful.
Friday, I got more stage time in before spending the evening with my Quantum group.
Really good night. Met a woman I ended up talking with for hours. Life. Religion. God. What we believe. The kind of conversation I don’t have with very many people.
She’s married. This was a friendship, and there was something about the connection that felt familiar at a soul level.
I don’t have a better way to explain that.
It doesn’t happen often.
We made plans to have breakfast before I left. That might sound like a small thing. For me, sitting down and eating with somebody can be a big fucking thing. I’ll get back to that.
Saturday, I picked up Athena at the thrift store. She found some cool Gucci stuff. She’s the one who got me hooked on Gucci.
And if you’ve heard my joke about how I get Gucci, that joke is not about Athena. Let’s get that cleared up right now.
She’s my buddy. I love that girl in a way I don’t know how to put into words without fucking up the explanation. I respect her a whole bunch. We have a really cool friendship, and I’m happy to leave it there.
Picked up my tux, then spent the day with the Quantum group at a mansion up by the Hollywood sign.
Beautiful place. We did coaching work, visualization, all that stuff. Some of it was basic work I’ve done a thousand times.
And I still got something out of it.
That’s almost annoying to admit. I coach people. I’ve built coaching programs that other coaches use. Then somebody walks me through a basic exercise, and there’s still something there for me to learn.
Fuck. Okay. Keep doing the work, Kenny.
It was good. Challenging in some places. Made some deeper connections with people. Got more comfortable with people I already knew.
We finished around nine, and I went back to The Hollywood Comedy for another set before bed.
That one was a going-through-the-motions set. Hit the lines. Made a few changes. Some people had seen me earlier in the week, some hadn’t. We talked a little about what I was working on.
Then home. Bed.
And home for the week was a little spare room up in the hills. My own bathroom and entrance. Cheapest way I could stay where I wanted to stay.
I liked it.
Driving back from doing comedy and seeing the Hollywood sign every night was cool as shit. I let myself enjoy that.
Pretty sure I saw Kevin Bacon taking something out to his trash one night around midnight.
Pretty sure. Leaving myself some room to be wrong about that one.
Sunday morning, we went to the gym.
Worked on jump rope with Jerry and learned a few things. Then I led some of the workout. Warmup, stretching, cardio, coordination work, a little core. Finished them off with a nine-minute plank.
Kohila held that fucking plank for nine minutes.
She pushed. There was some fire there.
It was fun letting my friends see me coach in that setting. Around some of them, I’m pretty quiet. Laid back. Maybe even timid. Then I’m coaching, and the energy comes all the way up.
That’s part of me too. Give me a job I know how to do, and I’m going to do it the best I can.
I’ve been thinking about how literally I take giving something a hundred percent. When I say it, I mean taking it as far as I can take it. I’m still figuring out how to explain that part of myself to people.
It’s gotten me through a lot. It’s nearly killed me a few times too.
Life has almost killed me fast and almost killed me slow. And here I am, having this beautiful fucking week.
I’m grateful to be here. I’ve got two amazing children. Beautiful in every goddamn way. Frustrating as shit sometimes. Beautiful in every way.
Sunday also included hanging out at Corey’s. Sitting in the hot tub with friends, talking about energy and healing and life.
I get to hang out with some cool motherfuckers. People doing things I find fascinating. People who know how to lift each other up. I’m grateful I get to be around them.
And the Hollywood comedy party was a blast.
Pictures. Red carpet. Interviews. Beautiful women. Working actors and comedians. People whose faces I recognized even when I couldn’t remember where I’d seen them.
They introduced me as an entrepreneur and comedian.
Fuck yeah. I’ll take that.
Entrepreneur and comedian.
That felt good coming out of somebody else’s mouth. It’s a pretty easy answer when somebody asks what I do. The entrepreneur part covers a whole lot of ground. Then we can talk about whichever part they’re interested in.
I’m still playing with it. But I liked hearing it.
The comics at that party were fucking good. I sat there watching them and thinking about my own material. I’ve got a solid ten I could do in that room. I could adjust a little for the audience and do the job.
That’s a good feeling to have while you’re watching people work.
Kimbrough closed the show. During his acknowledgments, he pointed out a few traveling comics who were there from different parts of the country.
He had me stand up and wave from my seat.
That felt really fucking good.
My friend Teresa showed up. Turns out she knows Kimbrough from when she used to do comedy. The friend I’d met Friday came too. We talked, laughed, danced. I felt like I was in high school again.
Eventually, the cops broke the party up. People were double-parked and blocking driveways. Things had gotten a little out of hand with the parking.
We gave hugs and went our separate ways.
It was still early enough to stop at The Hollywood Comedy on the way back.
So I did.
Monday started early. I’ve been taking clients again, and I had a six a.m. session. Then breakfast with my new friend.
We talked for about two hours. And we prayed together.
I don’t do that with many people either.
Thank you for the love. Thank you for the food. May there always be food. May there always be love.
Simple. It meant something to me.
I don’t sit down and have meals with a lot of people. There’s risk in it for me that probably doesn’t make sense from the outside. If you’ve read enough of this journal, maybe you understand a little.
Even talking about that connection afterward, I could feel myself shaking a little.
Breathe, Kenny.
I think there could be a valuable business relationship there. I also think there could be a really nice spiritual friendship. I hope it’s genuine. I’m letting myself accept it and see where it goes.
After breakfast, I went back to my room and took a nap. I was fucking beat.
Then it was time for the Comedy Store.
I had to try. I’m in Hollywood. I’ve been getting all these reps. I’ve got material ready. I have to put my name in for the opportunity.
Got there around 3:45 for the four o’clock signup. I was about fifth on the list.
For a minute, that felt promising.
Then people just kept coming in.
And coming in.
I couldn’t tell you the exact number. Seventy? A hundred? More? A whole lot of comics for a limited number of spots, with some of the lineup already accounted for.
And there I am, the guy from St. Louis, looking around at people who do this all the time.
My name didn’t get called.
I stayed and watched. Talked with comics. Talked about writing. Saw some people I’d already met during the week. Kimbrough came by later and found me sitting there taking it in.
I wanted that spot. I really did.
But I was still at the fucking Comedy Store, hanging out and watching people do the work. I enjoyed being there.
Stayed late, gave Kimbrough a hug, and went back to get some sleep.
Tuesday was my last full day. Client work in the morning. Started cleaning up the room. Took out trash, caught up on email, handled the ordinary work that still has to get done when you’re out of town.
Then I headed toward the Hollywood Improv to try their bucket pull.
On the way, Kimbrough texted and told me to reach out to Mary about a show. Mary was out of town, but she sent me to Chris and said she’d let him know.
So I reached out.
Told him I had a solid ten minutes. I could stretch if he needed more, but I knew I could give him ten that worked.
He had an open mic and a showcase that night. Offered to put me on the showcase.
There it was. A spot.
I still went to the Improv. Didn’t get pulled there either. But I got to see Ric Diez do a set. I’d watched him on *Kill Tony*, so that was fun. Good set.
Then I went over to Universal Bar & Grill for the Crispy Comedy Show with Chris Putro.
That show’s been running for about fifteen years. Weird room. Weird in a way I liked. Rough around the edges. A lot of writers and comics. Some faces I recognized from movies and commercials.
I had a fucking blast.
The crowd took some work, but I got them going. Did my set. Brought what I told him I could bring.
Afterward, Chris told me I was welcome back at his open mics. And when I’m back in town, reach out about another showcase spot.
That’s a win for me.
I’ve got somebody I can contact the next time I’m in Hollywood. A room I’ve performed in. A host who’s seen what I do and invited me back.
I don’t know Chris very well yet, but I appreciate the opportunity. And I appreciate Mary making the connection and Kimbrough getting the whole thing moving.
Not getting on either of those big-club bucket pulls still felt like a kick in the nuts. I can be happy about the showcase and admit I wanted those other spots too.
I emailed before I got there. I signed up. I waited. I tried.
And I got a lot of fucking stage time that week. Tried material I’d been holding back. Cut some jokes down. Let other stories run longer. Met people I’d like to see again.
By Tuesday night, I was tired.
Went back to the room. Went to bed.
Wednesday morning, did my client work, finished cleaning up, and headed home.
Now I’m back, talking through all of this and realizing how much happened in a week. It felt quiet for a while before this trip. Just doing the reps. Then I got to go somewhere else and do a whole bunch more of them, around a whole bunch of people I’m glad I met.
That was my first trip to Hollywood with comedy intention.
I’m glad I went.
Good night, folks.
I love you.
