Silence: My Worst Stand-Up Comedy Performances and Experiences

By Tim Boyle

Silence is said to be golden. When it comes to comedy though, silence can be deadly.

Tim Boyle began performing stand-up comedy when he was in high school. It didn't take more than a few seconds after entering a comedy club for the first time before realizing you need a thick skin to survive. Open mics, free bar shows, and New York City comedy clubs, Tim has failed on stage at them all. He’s been booed, banned, and had 200 high school kids throw gum at him.

Silence: My Worst Stand-Up Comedy Performances and Experiences chronicles his most cringe worthy stories about the times when things in his comedy career didn't go as planned. Honest, mean-spirited, and sometimes embarrassingly sad, this collection of stories is about one man's failed attempt at bringing joy to the world. Who said the pain of others can’t be funny?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tim Boyle
• Release date: Apr 19, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301597376

Tim Boyle

With a unique world perspective, a head filled with strange opinions, and a dark sarcasm in everything he does Tim Boyle is must read. In the summer of 2012 he published his first book, a humorous fictional tale titled "Satan: Little League Superstar" about Satan joining a little league baseball team. In November of 2012 he published his second book, a short diary based story about a man's outlandish battle with mother nature during Hurricane Sandy called "Surviving Sandy: A Battle Against That Deadly Whore Mother Nature." So far in 2013 he has added to his collection "Silence: My Worst Stand-Up Comedy Performances and Experiences." Unlike the previous two published works, this is autobiographical. Tim recounts his days as a stand-up comedian and as the title suggests, he covers some of the most cringe worthy moments he during his stint in the business. In addition to writing books, Tim Boyle is an aspiring screenwriter. Since 2011 he has been writing a [mostly] humor blog which can be found at http://mooselicker.wordpress.com Stay tuned for more works from Tim Boyle in the coming months.

Book preview

Silence: My Worst Stand-Up Comedy Performances and Experiences

By Tim Boyle

Dedicated to every brilliant, funny, and hardworking standup comedian I have ever met. Just because the world doesn’t appreciate you, doesn’t mean you haven’t made an impact.

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Blog: http://mooselicker.wordpress.com

Silence: My Worst Stand-Up Comedy Performances and Experiences

Published by Tim Boyle at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Tim Boyle

The Opening Act:

By no means will I claim to have had the funniest, most exciting, or dangerous experiences as a stand-up comedian. I probably should not start this off with such a negative endorsement. I just want the reader to know there are thousands of stories comedians can tell about different adventures they had in what can be a grueling business. A lot of comedians are also illiterate or too lazy/caught up in addiction to ever write a book about those adventures, so at least I have one up on them in that aspect.

At my peak in the stand-up comedy world I would classify myself as an expert open mic specialist badass motherfucker. That’s the long way to say I was good but never really deserved more than what I ended up getting. Perhaps I’m being humble. I never think of myself as a humble man though. Self-hater sounds much more accurate to my personality.

With that said I still believe even during my short time as a comic I had enough terrible moments on stage worth sharing. I got into comedy partly because bad luck and awkwardness seemed to follow me. Deciding to stand on stage with a microphone to elicit a specific response, laughter, seemed completely fail proof. What could possibly go wrong? Silence.

*****

First Time Failure:

The first time you do anything you’re supposed to fail. The first time I had sex I killed the girl when I drove off the road into a tree. Luckily no one passed away the first time I took the comedy stage. Although, a part of me wishes I had.

I had been writing down any jokes I could think of for almost a year when I finally decided it was time to pursue stand-up comedy for real. I’m not sure why I thought I would be good at it. I guess I was funny back then.

When I was 17 I enjoyed coming up with jokes more than actually caring whether they were funny or not. There’s a thrill I would get whenever I came up with a good joke. I still get that same feeling whenever I write something clever. In a strange way it’s a sexually gratifying feeling I get in those moments. I’ve never actually gotten an erection from landing a funny joke. I still have time. Don’t men in their 50s get boners completely at random? I cannot wait for my twilight years.

I went online to search how a comedian becomes a comedian. I read eHow articles for advice and even checked a book out from my school’s library on how to be funny. As usual, they told me things common sense did. Write down as many jokes as you can, Test the jokes out on family and friends, and Watch other comedians were all I kept reading. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten valuable advice from anything on the Internet. Even when I tried to hang myself and looked up how to tie a noose things were way too confusing. I decided to give up and live a miserable life. There’s nothing more embarrassing than having someone find you hanging from a poorly tied noose asking for help to get down so you can try again next week.

The biggest part of my research involved finding clubs. Having grown up about an hour away from New York City meant there was a giant hub of comedy clubs only a train ride away. I began looking for the perfect place. And by perfect I meant easiest show to get on.

My mistake was agreeing to perform on a bringer show rather than an open mic. Essentially a bringer show is a comedy show where in order to get on stage you must bring a specific amount of people to see you. These are notoriously known for being bad shows because the audience only wants to see the person they know. It’s like going to your daughter’s dance recital. As soon as she finishes up her lousy tap dancing routine you want to whip out a joint and forget there are three more hours of other people’s daughters and gay sons dancing. The same thing happens in comedy; except I don’t think anyone would stop you from lighting the joint.

I didn’t know the difference at the time between a bringer show and an open mic. Plus, I was new at comedy. In my head everything I said was going to kill anyway. It didn’t matter if I was performing in a basement to three people or in a stadium. I was a funny bastard and my presence alone would make people laugh. I miss those delusional days sometimes. I’ve become such a pessimist thanks to bad things happening to me. I think this is why old people are so mean and are always running down people with their cars.

I went to a few comedy shows as an audience member before settling on a club to perform at. The club I chose had a five person bringer show Wednesday nights. I called the booker on the phone which was tough because I have a phone phobia which is the second wimpiest phobia next to fear of baby penises. I got over my disease and managed to book myself for an upcoming Wednesday about a month into the future.

The first trip I took to the club was a week before my debut. I went to a New York Rangers hockey game with my dad even though neither of us are Rangers fans. Go figure.

After the game we took a cab ride over to the club to check things out. I went inside and was hoping they would make a big deal about me. I was expecting to be welcomed. In my mind I imagined when I told the man working the door that I would be performing at the club he’d ask me I if I wanted a tour or a chance to take silly pictures of myself standing on stage holding the microphone. It didn’t happen. He looked at me like I was a jerk-off. My dad and I went outside and grabbed a cab to head back to Penn Station. Basically my dad spent $10 on two cab rides to find out nothing new. I am a bad son.

The night of my first performance came. Attending the show would be my dad, his girlfriend, my two sisters, three friends from school, my older sister’s roommate, and possibly my younger sister’s black boyfriend, I can’t remember if he went to this particular show or not. And I only mention he’s black so you think I’m cooler than I really am.

One piece of advice I would like to give anyone considering stand-up comedy, don’t invite more people than necessary to attend your first show. You’re going to suck and never want to see them ever again. The fewer people you want to cut out of your life, the better.

I rode up on the train with two of my friends from school. To give you a precursor to how well the show went, I stopped talking to them completely a year later. These two facts are actually unrelated but I wanted to point out how lonely I am to make you feel better. You’re probably reading this book alone. It’s okay, I’m probably sobbing into a pillow right now wondering why people don’t like me.

I thought I had my material down pretty good at this point. I had practiced it over and over again in my kitchen. I even timed it out to make sure I could fill 5-7 minutes, the allotted time I would be given. I had a