I will say that if you ever have a chance to do it, and have the ability to come up with even bad jokes, try it.
You’ll suck. Everyone sucks early on, even and especially the really big names. All of them bombed early on, and many have bombed after they had their craft honed.
It’s terrifying, even if you think you’re going to be fine. You’ve got your tight 5 or 15, you nailed all your public speaking classes, you’re the one people invite to parties because you’re that guy that can tell stories and keep a room laughing and having a good time all night.
Then you step up into lights, with whatever crowd is there, watching you, waiting for you to entertain them, waiting to decide if you’re funny or not. Yeah, it’s open mic, you aren’t getting booed off stage unless you’re a dickbag. They’ll clap politely at the end as long as you make an effort. But the crowd isn’t going to fake laughing, and they can’t fake being bored.
And you will fuck up. You’ll stumble over words you practiced a dozen times. You’ll fuck up the punchline. You’ll fuck the timing up. Something is going to go wrong.
But guess what? You’ll fuck off the stage, and you’ll be okay. It ain’t the end of the world. Maybe you’ll even like it all, bombing and all. Maybe you’ll run and never come back to try again. But you did it. You got the fuck up there, you did your bit, and all that fear and belly clenching is a memory you’ll never lose. It’s one of the most unique experiences you can have without being arrested.
If you decide to try again, you’ll have learned from it. You’ll do better, even if it’s only a little. But all those nerves, you know how to handle them. If you still bomb, who the fuck cares, it can’t be as bad as that first time.
Now, me, I fucking tsar bombad my first try. Like, even the polite clapping at the end was scattered and done out of pity, not because I tried. It wasn’t even that the jokes were bad, they get laughs elsewhere still. It’s just the nature of the new. Every speech I’d given, every class I’d taught, it didn’t matter because that stage was an alien world. I fucked every single one up.
But the second time? I got laughs. Didn’t win over everyone, I went with some absurdist stuff and was over the top, which isn’t for everyone. But the ones that did get it, loved it. Standing up and clapping at the end. One dude spilled his beer laughing at my bit about a horny bull fucking a fence post. He was the only one laughing at that part at first, but after he went, it spread.
Never did it again lol. Only reason I did it twice was because of how wrung out I was the first time. Anything that terrifying, that mind fucking, I couldn’t run away from. It’s one of those things where I had to do it again so that I knew I could rather than saying that I just didn’t have fun the first time, and didn’t do well, so it wasn’t worth doing again. I was finding excuses in my to not do it again, even though I had never originally planned to. I can’t leave shit like that in my head unless it’s a physical risk. My first time tumbling down a trail on a bike because the trail wasn’t meant to be a bike trail was enough. No need to risk paralysis or death when it went wrong, you dig?
But if I didn’t plan on a second open mic night, and my brain is whining about why I shouldn’t go again, that’s a sign of something I can’t leave be. So I had to go again.
See, I’m country enough I’ve seen cows fuck more than I’ve fucked.
Y’all may not know this, but a bull will fuck anything. If you’re a bull, the world is your vagina. Small animals, drunk women, drunk men, frat boys that think cow tipping is a thing, cars, a tree stump, a fence post.
You ever hear a bull get a little closer to heaven? They raise a racket.
There is where I do my bull coming impression. Picture in your head a big dude, slightly balding, just a tiny bit chubby, humping a stool on stage making mooing sounds while mimicking orgasm.
Now, that’s a happy bull!
Well, until he runs into a fence post with barbed wire. Then it’s a bit less happy.
And there is where I do the same basic gag, but end up doing a big shocked face, and the moo turns into a mooing screech. I do the bit, fall over on the stage and fake cry while mooing.
Then I start saying, but you know bulls, they’re stubborn.
I stand back up, but stay bent over a little, cupping my junk, and approach the stool by circling around it, then butting it with my head a little before lining up like I’m going to hump it again.
I stop, look at a dude in the front row that’s already busting a gut and ask him if he wants a turn.
Big risk, I know. But the guy plays along and says he isn’t dumb enough to fuck barbed wire. I say, you think the bull is going to share? Bend over, big guy, here I come!
That’s followed by the loudest roaring moo I can pull out, while I charge the end of the stage and do a fall in front of the guy.
So, not a joke really. Just turning a story I tell at parties into an even more over the top stage gag. It’s all about the absurdity of this beefy guy that looks like he has more muscle than brains acting like an idiot in a bit of controlled chaos.
I actually saw a bull mount a fence post that had barbed wire. It ended essentially the same, with a sad bull and a goofy bastard laughing. Like in the gag, the bull came around for another pass, but it veered at the last second.
It’s one of those things that kills in person at a party because you can use a couch, the host, a table, a lamp, whatever. You turn a fairly dumb story into a spectacle, and because you can change up exactly how you deliver it, nobody knows how it’s going to play out.
Making it work on stage though, that was a little scary. You’ve got the mic making the sounds louder and more tinny. You don’t know the audience, so you might end up with a bunch of people that aren’t really looking to laugh, they’re looking more for something to laugh at. But that dude in front, he was fucking gold. He got the bit, he was all in on it by the time I started making hooves with my hands and mooing, before I approaches the stool.
I paid his tab lol. I doubt i would have gotten crickets, the bit is ridiculous enough someone would have laughed a little. But him just rolling with the absurdity and enjoying it carried over to the majority of the room.
Open mic nights are great, and horrible.
I will say that if you ever have a chance to do it, and have the ability to come up with even bad jokes, try it.
You’ll suck. Everyone sucks early on, even and especially the really big names. All of them bombed early on, and many have bombed after they had their craft honed.
It’s terrifying, even if you think you’re going to be fine. You’ve got your tight 5 or 15, you nailed all your public speaking classes, you’re the one people invite to parties because you’re that guy that can tell stories and keep a room laughing and having a good time all night.
Then you step up into lights, with whatever crowd is there, watching you, waiting for you to entertain them, waiting to decide if you’re funny or not. Yeah, it’s open mic, you aren’t getting booed off stage unless you’re a dickbag. They’ll clap politely at the end as long as you make an effort. But the crowd isn’t going to fake laughing, and they can’t fake being bored.
And you will fuck up. You’ll stumble over words you practiced a dozen times. You’ll fuck up the punchline. You’ll fuck the timing up. Something is going to go wrong.
But guess what? You’ll fuck off the stage, and you’ll be okay. It ain’t the end of the world. Maybe you’ll even like it all, bombing and all. Maybe you’ll run and never come back to try again. But you did it. You got the fuck up there, you did your bit, and all that fear and belly clenching is a memory you’ll never lose. It’s one of the most unique experiences you can have without being arrested.
If you decide to try again, you’ll have learned from it. You’ll do better, even if it’s only a little. But all those nerves, you know how to handle them. If you still bomb, who the fuck cares, it can’t be as bad as that first time.
Now, me, I fucking tsar bombad my first try. Like, even the polite clapping at the end was scattered and done out of pity, not because I tried. It wasn’t even that the jokes were bad, they get laughs elsewhere still. It’s just the nature of the new. Every speech I’d given, every class I’d taught, it didn’t matter because that stage was an alien world. I fucked every single one up.
But the second time? I got laughs. Didn’t win over everyone, I went with some absurdist stuff and was over the top, which isn’t for everyone. But the ones that did get it, loved it. Standing up and clapping at the end. One dude spilled his beer laughing at my bit about a horny bull fucking a fence post. He was the only one laughing at that part at first, but after he went, it spread.
Never did it again lol. Only reason I did it twice was because of how wrung out I was the first time. Anything that terrifying, that mind fucking, I couldn’t run away from. It’s one of those things where I had to do it again so that I knew I could rather than saying that I just didn’t have fun the first time, and didn’t do well, so it wasn’t worth doing again. I was finding excuses in my to not do it again, even though I had never originally planned to. I can’t leave shit like that in my head unless it’s a physical risk. My first time tumbling down a trail on a bike because the trail wasn’t meant to be a bike trail was enough. No need to risk paralysis or death when it went wrong, you dig?
But if I didn’t plan on a second open mic night, and my brain is whining about why I shouldn’t go again, that’s a sign of something I can’t leave be. So I had to go again.
What’s the bull joke
Not a joke, per se.
It’s a story.
See, I’m country enough I’ve seen cows fuck more than I’ve fucked.
Y’all may not know this, but a bull will fuck anything. If you’re a bull, the world is your vagina. Small animals, drunk women, drunk men, frat boys that think cow tipping is a thing, cars, a tree stump, a fence post.
You ever hear a bull get a little closer to heaven? They raise a racket.
There is where I do my bull coming impression. Picture in your head a big dude, slightly balding, just a tiny bit chubby, humping a stool on stage making mooing sounds while mimicking orgasm.
Now, that’s a happy bull!
Well, until he runs into a fence post with barbed wire. Then it’s a bit less happy.
And there is where I do the same basic gag, but end up doing a big shocked face, and the moo turns into a mooing screech. I do the bit, fall over on the stage and fake cry while mooing.
Then I start saying, but you know bulls, they’re stubborn.
I stand back up, but stay bent over a little, cupping my junk, and approach the stool by circling around it, then butting it with my head a little before lining up like I’m going to hump it again.
I stop, look at a dude in the front row that’s already busting a gut and ask him if he wants a turn.
Big risk, I know. But the guy plays along and says he isn’t dumb enough to fuck barbed wire. I say, you think the bull is going to share? Bend over, big guy, here I come!
That’s followed by the loudest roaring moo I can pull out, while I charge the end of the stage and do a fall in front of the guy.
So, not a joke really. Just turning a story I tell at parties into an even more over the top stage gag. It’s all about the absurdity of this beefy guy that looks like he has more muscle than brains acting like an idiot in a bit of controlled chaos.
I actually saw a bull mount a fence post that had barbed wire. It ended essentially the same, with a sad bull and a goofy bastard laughing. Like in the gag, the bull came around for another pass, but it veered at the last second.
It’s one of those things that kills in person at a party because you can use a couch, the host, a table, a lamp, whatever. You turn a fairly dumb story into a spectacle, and because you can change up exactly how you deliver it, nobody knows how it’s going to play out.
Making it work on stage though, that was a little scary. You’ve got the mic making the sounds louder and more tinny. You don’t know the audience, so you might end up with a bunch of people that aren’t really looking to laugh, they’re looking more for something to laugh at. But that dude in front, he was fucking gold. He got the bit, he was all in on it by the time I started making hooves with my hands and mooing, before I approaches the stool.
I paid his tab lol. I doubt i would have gotten crickets, the bit is ridiculous enough someone would have laughed a little. But him just rolling with the absurdity and enjoying it carried over to the majority of the room.
this is an awesome story, thanks for sharing :)