Nashville wind monsters and fuck freaks

It was right after the nice lady with the lovely Nashville accent handed me my ticket that the warning blasted from the airport’s loudspeakers, “Ladies and Gentlemen, the sky has turned into a scary monster, and it’s headed this way. Everyone please move deeper into the building and get the fuck away from the windows. May God bless your souls.”

Ho-leee shit… a mother-fucking real live tornado was coming this way.
I may have chosen the wrong time to take my herbal glaucoma medication.
I looked around at all of these equally concerned fellow travelers and I felt a real bonding moment with them. We made eye contact and nodded in confirmation. We all realized that we were a bunch of strangers, stuck in this terrifying mess, and to get through it we were going to have to stick together and support each other.
Like Jack says on Lost, “Live together, or die alone.”
Indeed. We can get through this.
We were all huddled together in the hallway like scared dogs until some of us realized that starbucks was still open, and that it was right around the corner inside the airport. If we were going to hide from death at least we could do it as Joey Diaz would say, “like gentlemen,” with coffee and wifi.


What was truly remarkable was how unfazed the folks who live there were about this funnel cloud of incredible destruction just a couple miles away.
I asked the young girl giving me my coffee if this happened all the time, and she said, “Yeah, it do be happenin’.”
It’s kind of freaky to think that you can get so used to something as crazy as a tornado, but I guess that’s just what happens. People are creatures of habit, even if that habit is hiding from fucking cloud monsters.
What’s even freakier was that even though I know for a fact that tornadoes exist and that they fuck up hundreds and thousands of random homes and people every year, in my mind they didn’t exist.

I mean, I know they’re real, but since they’ve never been a part of my life, I don’t have a place for them in my mental model of the world. It seems like there’s only so many things about our natural environment that my mind has the resources to provide consciousness coverage to, so anything that I haven’t actually seen with my own eyes in my 41 years of life gets put into this “does not apply” category and becomes almost abstract.
It’s sort of like the role asteroids play in our daily life.
We all know that they’re out there, and that they can fuck us up, but we don’t really think about them day to day.
It’s just too out there. The idea of them possibly hitting the earth just seems something less than real.

If you were going to pick a place where you would be trapped with people and hiding from the wind, Nashville is as good a place as any.
You really couldn’t ask to be around any nicer people.
People are beyond friendly there, and despite the fact that we were under siege from none other than the sky herself, nobody panicked. People are so cordial down here. Everywhere you turn you hear nothing but “sir” and “ma’am.” I use those words occasionally myself, but Got Damn if I don’t catch myself using them at least twice as much when I’m around Nashville. The shit is contagious.
It’s southern hospitality in the truest sense of the word.

I’ve had two awesome stops on the road in the past week, doing a sold out weekend in Philly at the Helium comedy club, and then another sold out show Tuesday night at Zanies in Nashville. I’m starting to put together some new material and new ideas for my next set after my spike special airs, and to get all geared up for that, I’m gonna resume my daily blogs again starting this week. This time I’m gonna just take off the weekends, because really my writing then should be all just working on my act since I’m usually performing on the weekends.

I’ve been threatening to put up some video blogs for a while now, and I think this week is when I kick that off. I’ve got a plan for my whole youtube page that I’m gonna get cracking on. I did those daily blogs for a while when I was preparing for my spike show, and I can’t tell you guys enough how cool it was to get all the positive feedback on them.
It really means the world to me that so many of you out there enjoy them.
I started realizing that this blog isn’t just a place for me to express myself and fuck around, but it’s also the purest form of creative expression that I have in my life.
I don’t make any money from it, and in fact it costs me money to operate it, but I feel like not only is it something that I love to do, but I also feel like it’s an obligation that I have to you guys. I’ve gotten offers to put ads up my site, but that always just seemed gross. Even if the ads could pay for maintaining the site, and they didn’t distract from the content, it would still feel weird. I like it the way it is.

To me it feels like the proper exchange. I’m honored and humbled to have so many cool people that come to my shows, so my contribution back to you is not just to write and perform more shows, but to keep you entertained and connected in between shows here. This is my best, most direct and honest link to all of you, and the freest, purest thing I do. I love stand up comedy, but as an art form it has that one restriction in that you have to be funny. It’s definitely my favorite art form, both to watch and to do, but some ideas that are very much worthy of discussion and consideration simply aren’t funny. They just are what they are, like this blog. Sometimes they’re funny, sometimes they’re weird, but ultimately they are what they are, and that’s how they should be. Here on the blog I can let them take whatever shape they wish.

It’s a great writing exercise keeping these blogs up, because it forces me to think. I find myself going through my day searching for possible topics. Fortunately for me, I live a pretty fucking weird life, so there’s always something interesting happening, often times when I least expect it.
Like for instance, before the cloud monster attacked in Nashville, a guy that I had spoken to for a total of 10 minutes in the 2 days that I was in town asked my friend Ari and I if we wanted to go to a private swingers club with him and get our freak on.

We were headed to the airport, and just saying good bye to this guy we barely knew, when out of nowhere he invites us to join him and his wife at their swingers club the next time we’re in town. At first I had to pause, because I really thought I MUST have misheard him.
The guy seemed about as nice and normal as could be, and his nervous, clumsy invite to this house of fuck all came completely out of left field.
I just didn’t figure him for that kind of guy. From our interaction with him over the last 2 days he seemed like the kind of guy that would invite you to a church social or a community barbecue, not some free-spirited fuck-freak that lets guys bone his wife.

Now, don’t get me wrong because I’m certainly not judging him or looking at his situation negatively at all, because like I said he was a really nice guy, and he seemed genuinely happy, so it’s all working for him. I mean, who the fuck am I to say what’s normal or acceptable? Let he with out sin cast the first stone, and all that good shit…
The way he described it – he and his wife both love each other very deeply, and they know they’re coming home to each other, and that’s the most important thing to them. Their relationship is true love, and what they’re doing with these other people is just having fun, and they were both comfortable with it.

I can totally buy that, but then he also said something I that found very fascinating; and that was that they both had veto powers – meaning that either one had to approve their sexual partners before they were allowed to participate in any fucktuals.

I thought that was pretty interesting, because I thought the whole thing with this swinger stuff was the idea of having sexual freedom. You’re in a committed relationship, but you’re allowing each other to have fun with other people’s bodies. Your husband or wife having veto powers tells me that you’re still dealing with the sting of those primitive emotions. I mean, for the most part to be that guy you must have a pretty good grip on your jealousy, but I guess every man has his limits so he’s reserving his option on anything that registers over a certain number on his freak-o-meter.

“So like, you can deal with some guy like a nervous and slightly feminine accountant with the nice hair giving your wifey an excited, but ultimately sup-par boning, but you’ll put the kibosh on some wild-eyed Melvin Manhoef looking motherfucker itching to stuff his fat, black dick into your wife’s tight, white ass.

“Yeah, exactly. That’s too much. I can’t follow that.”

That’s got to be a weird little balancing act of emotions when you’re hearing your wife moaning with delight from another man’s cock. On one hand, you should be happy for her because you love her, and she’s obviously enjoying herself, but on the other hand… what… the… fuck?

I really wish we didn’t have to run, because I would have loved to sit down and pick this dude’s mind for hours.
This man was a God damned, real life sexual rebel. He’s bucking the conventionally accepted dick and pussy distribution system, and he’s doing it in Jesus loving Tennessee no less.
Guys that let other guys fuck their wives are rare freaks, probably one in a 100,000 or less – so when you come across one you really have to take advantage of your good fortune and fire off as many questions at him as you can.
I didn’t get as much time with him as I would have liked, but at least I got enough for this blog.