Liam Neeson is a handsome man
I’ve got just about a week and 4 days before I shoot my comedy special, so from here on out I’m going to be spending most of my writing time making notes on my act and organizing my set.
I’ll still keep up the daily blog, but I’m not gonna have the time to write up anything fancy.
Liam Neeson was on the plane back from London with us today. I awkwardly tried to say hi to him, but it didn’t really work.
He was sitting right in front of me, and as he was taking off his jacket, I said in a voice loud enough for him to certainly hear me, “I just saw “Taken”" – of course referring to his recent movie.
Now, you know when you can tell that someone heard you, but they wish you wouldn’t bother them, so they’re going to pretend they didn’t? Well, I’m pretty sure that’s what happened.
In a way I’m kinda glad he didn’t respond, because if he did I would have told him politely that I really enjoyed his movie, which of course would be a big fat lie. I really like Liam Neeson as an actor, but that movie kinda sucked.
It was a well directed, predictable action movie, and the ending seemed like it was written by a high school girl.
I would have lied, though.
I would have Looked him right in the eye and told him I fucking loved it. I wonder how many people have done that exact same thing to me about “fear factor.”
Maybe it would have been better if I said, “Hey man, I thought that movie sucked a fat one, but I thought you were the SHIT in “Next of Kin”.”
Now, that would probably sound like I was trying to be a dick, but I really do have this weird soft spot for Patrick Swayze action movies. I guess it’s maybe due to the fact that I’m a stand up comic, but I’ve always found unintentional comedy to be the best comedy, and in that genre there’s very few films that can fuck with some of Swayze’s shit. Road House of course being the king of the genre.
Now, it’s very possible that I’m being a little bitch, and that Mr. Neeson simply didn’t hear me. It’s very possible he was just spacing out thinking about the Oscar’s or some shit.
He continued to hang up his fabulous crushed velvet jacket and take his seat.
It was a really bad ass jacket, and I wanted to ask him where he got it, but that would just really make me look even more like a stalker weirdo.
Anytime you ask a man about his clothes you run the risk of appearing gay, but if you ask him about his clothes after he ignored you trying to talk to him just 20 seconds ago… well that’s just fucking pathetic.
Even if he told me, he probably bought it in France or some shit, and it would just wind up being meaningless small talk where I write down the name of the store and pretend that I’m probably going to visit Paris one day, and I’ll remember to go to the store, or something equally insincere. Then if I really wanted to hate myself, I might tell him, “I’m in show business myself!”
Actually, I would never do that. I might have done that 10 years ago, though.
You ever think back to some shit you did years ago, and you still feel pathetic from it? There are a few memories of dumb shit I’ve done in my life that just continue to haunt me, no matter how many years go by.
I know objectively that as a human being there are certain mistakes that you have to make in life to grow from them, but there’s just part of me that doesn’t want to admit that I was ever that fucking retarded.
I think that’s why some people fuck up a bunch when they’re young, and they never really get on track in life. It’s like the memory of their fuck ups are just too powerful for them to respect that who they are now is a different, more evolved person. They just think of the shame of what they’ve done in the past and get stuck with that self-definition. I think that’s one of the reasons why a discipline, especially for a man, is very important for self definition.
Whatever it is; be it martial arts, or playing the guitar, or whatever – having something that’s very difficult that you focus all your energy on can redefine your view of yourself and make you forgive yourself for the time you farted in that girl’s car.
That was one of my personal, “what a loser” memories. I farted in a girl’s car and ruined an otherwise very fun date once when I was 21. It was just such a complete rookie move on my part.
The young lady in question was this really hot girl that I had liked for a while, and it took me a while to have the balls to ask her out. We went out, and for whatever reason she was driving.
We had a good time on the date, and she seemed really nice, although it did weird me out for a second how freely she referred to herself as having a “nigger ass.” Either way, a little uncomfortable racism in no way deserves the punishment I put her olfactory senses through when I shit myself in her car.
I thought it would be a little sneaky one that I could keep to myself, which shows you what a retard I was back then. Somehow I thought that even though I was sitting in a car right next to someone, maybe I could get away with just letting a little out and perhaps she wouldn’t notice it. Well, regardless of whatever retarded logic I had for doing it at the time, the bottom line is that I cut a horrible fart in this poor girls car.
It was disgusting, it was pathetic, it was embarrassing beyond belief, but it was never discussed. Neither one of us said a word for the rest of the ride to my apartment.
When we got there I didn’t even think for a moment about asking her inside or trying to kiss her, I just stumbled out of her car in shame, and said something lame like, “I had fun, goodnight!”
The memory of that night was like a little woodpecker picking away at my confidence every time I thought about it for months after that night. It’s really funny because I really didn’t talk to her much again after that, but then 10 years later she came to one of my comedy shows and said hi to me afterward. We exchanged pleasantries, and all that, “How have you been?” small talk, but I missed my opportunity to come clean and apologize for releasing fumes in her car.
I thought about it, but I just didn’t have the balls back then.