“Here you are Ronald. So you want to be a famous comedian? Then why do you sit on the couch doing nothing? Watching Wipeout. Then following up with some night time cop drama thinking, “Sure is easy to catch a criminal in 30 minutes.””

“But you sit. You’re scared. Why?” I don’t like to fail. I don’t like to bomb. 

“You bomb. Everyone bombs on stage. Why should you care?”

Probably because that crowd I bombed in front of gets together every Friday and goes, “Remember that faggot who got on stage five weeks ago and choked on his own mother’s breast milk?  Gosh he was terrible. It was like listening to a crow’s shriek mixed with a cat scratching a chalk board all while being repeatedly pelted with stones from David’s sling shot.  He should hang himself. No we should hang him because he’d probably suck at that too and just get rope burn.  I love meeting with you guys. Talking about how terrible this one comedian was all that time ago. I’m glad we do this every Friday.  We should do it twice a week instead of once.”

Bombing is a lesson.  Like a good friend of mine said, “How are you going to know it works if you don’t try it on stage? And who cares if you bomb. It’s an open mic.” Or something along those lines. 

Then I think to myself while I’m home alone with my thoughts, while the opportunity of a life time passes me by everyday, “Why are you here at home? You could be having fun at the open mic.” Well because it’s hard to fail in front of a group of people. “So what? Is it harder to fail in front of 30 people you don’t know than in front of no one?”

It’s interesting to think that no one will know that I failed at a dream or to take the opportunity to chase the dream if I stay home. I would know though.  That’s all that matters.  I know. I get to live with it. You don’t give a fuck whether I succeed or not.  Well maybe you do because you don’t want to hear shitty comedy every night. And besides, you have your own life. You are following your own dream.

If I was 16 again I’d say to myself. “Shut up pussy. Get the fuck up. Go do something with your life. Yeah it’s easy to keep a day job, but it sucks going. Maybe you should stay home and jerk off a few more times. Three in an hour isn’t enough because you’re so useless you need more self-gratification. Fuckin pussy. Go. GO. GO NOW. You used to play basketball for 6 hours a day because you were chasing a dream and you can’t stand in front of people for 5 minutes and entertain them? Pooooooosssssssaaaaaayyyyyy. Quit crying. No one wants to hear it.”

 Quit sitting, stand up, Stand Up. The stage is only as empty as you make it.

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