Archive for the ‘comedy’ Category

This will be a hodgepodge post. I’m sitting here waiting for the next batch of whoopie pies to cook, and I started to think about tomorrow. Really think about what I’m thankful for, and the answer that came to me was so damn cliche. 

I’m thankful for my family and friends. But this year I’m super, uber, ginormously thankful for my mom.

If you keep up with my posts you’ll know that my mom had a stroke this year. Out of the blue, and so sudden it knocked me down. I never ever thought something would happen to her. She is the strongest person I know. 

If you didn’t figure it out, I’m a huge ball of anxiety with a heaping side of neurotic. Every night, I go over what I’m going to do the next day. When my day is thrown off or doesn’t go according to plan I have a HARD time adjusting. Change freaks me out. Things I can’t control freak me out.

Now that I’ve confessed that you can imagine how much my world went into a tailspin when my mom, my rock, had a stroke. I hadn’t even thought to plan that would happen. 

My mom always has a way of going with the flow. To this day and beyond I wish I could be more like her. She is amazing. She never seemed to have anything faze her. Why couldn’t I have inherited that gene?

Even with all my weird and sometimes (all the time) over exaggeration my mom accepted me. I never worried about her love faltering, even on my worst of freak outs. The thought of losing her tore me up inside. I couldn’t lose the one person that truly understands me. Who won’t turn away from me because my brain never stops and I want everything to work out the way I created it in my imagination. Who understands my need to stress about the most minute thing. 

Yes, I know that sounds selfish. I don’t care she’s mine. 

When my mom was in the hospital her sisters were there. My mom has 6 sisters and 2 brothers. Even with some strain they were there for me when it counted. And for that I’m thankful. My aunts kept saying that it could be worse and she was lucky she pulled through ( there was some religious talk, but I’m glossing over that because I don’t want that argument. We do not see eye to eye on that, but I digress.) I know they werw trying to make me feel better, but I didn’t want to hear it. I wanted my mom safe and healthy. I didn’t need this scarr to appreciate her. My mom is my best friend. Hell, look at my Halestorm posts. I’ve taken my mom to two concerts. We have so much fun together.  When we see each other we stay up until all hours in the morning talking. Het stroke was just a cruel twist that I could have happily lived without.

I’ve been feeling like I’m on the verge of going insane since August 23. She had to have surgery again yesterday. I didn’t know about it until my dad told me as she wad going into the OR. Talk about throwing my whole day off its axis. They added more coils andd another stint, and she is doing amazing, but…IT WASN’T PLANNED…

So this rant was just to show how thankful I am to have my mom. I wouldn’t have survived with another mom. She is my soul mate. She was supposed to guide me through this life, and I still need her.

Now because I don’t need anyone butthurt ….

I’m also very thankful for…..

my dad. He is the best grandpa I could ask for. He gave me my crazy brain. I realized this even more when we were up all night in the ICU while my mom slept doing crossword puzzles.

My brother for hugging me when I wanted to scream

Johnboy for being the best hubby ever. He is seriously the most supportive person in the whole world. When I told him about the books and comedy he pushed me to do it. I could keep going. He is the best.

My boys for driving me crazy and making me proud. They taught me so much. Especially how to go with the flow. I’m still trying to learn. They make me laugh and I adore them 

My second set of parents. They have helped and supported me. I can’t express how much they mean to me. They have given me a safe place to become myself, and my successes could not have happened without them.

My sisters for being there for me. For letting me pretend I’m a rebel and standing behind me being the true rebels. 

My niece. They are amazing. I wish I could have been as strong as they are when I was their age. They are going to make this world a better place with their strength 

My nephews for showing me there will be good men in this world. They will make someone so happy and I know they will help me with my book characters.

My friends. They have been so supportive also. I can’t believe how many people I have in my corner. 

Thank you everyone.

 Hug your loved ones tight and let them know you love them….

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This is a my story of how I ended up in Facebook Jail. I didn’t realize how many people have similar stories, but this is mine.

Let’s start from the beginning….

I met Mr. Facebook years ago. I was a stunned by Mr. Facebook’s good looks. His dazzling blue eyes (get it? Facebook’s logo is blue)and his immense social media presence. I wanted to be a part of Mr. Facebook’s tribe so I timidly joined in.

Wanting to be in the Facebook family I hastily checked the, I Agree, button on the large contract that was thrust in my face. Admittedly, I didn’t read the fine details on Mr. Facebook’s firm rules of conduct. Even if I did I would have still signed on.

Mr. Facebook lured me in. Asking me about my day. Asking me what I was thinking. He encouraged me to share pictures of my loved ones, of my ups and downs, and allowed me to connect with people in his tribe so easily it was mind boggling.

Throughout our relationship I started to notice that Mr. Facebook had some dominant tendencies. There were times he would hide my pictures and my posts. He also was known to hide my friends posts from me as well. It started to get really fishy when Mr. Facebook asked me for money in order to show my posts to the people who would enjoy them the most.

Mr. Facebook isn’t alone in his reign of control. He employees ugly smelly trolls to search for things that Mr. Facebook would deem wrong in his pristine little community.

On Halloween I felt the full extent of Mr. Facebook’s wrath. I posted a picture of a weenie dressed as a ghost.

 

No longer was I in Mr. Facebook’s good graces. No longer did he want to know what was on my mind.I was summoned into Mr. Facebook’s lair to receive my sentence. His right hand man pulled me into the room and threw me on the floor scoffing at me in disgust. I’m not positive, but I think Mr. Facebook’s henchman’s name was the notorious Grammar Nazi.

Mr. Facebook came in wearing low slung jeans and no shirt (a la Christian Grey style) The troll that turned me in was lurking in the shadows to remain anonymous. Only their putrid smell was present.

“What should we do with her?” Grammar Nazi hissed kicking me with his steel-toed boot.

“It was just a joke. The weenie was covered. There are worse posts than that. Hell, look at the nasty political posts, and pictures of abused animals,” I cried wheezing on the floor.

“Silence,” Mr. Facebook roared. “Solitary confinement for four days.”

I opened my mouth to fight for my right to publish what I wanted to on my own account. To explain I was a grown woman that had grown out of time-out. Before anything could leave my mouth, Grammar Nazi stuffed a ball gag in it.

I was hefted up and dragged down a dark dank hall kicking and screaming. I heard Mr. Facebook and the troll cackling over my gurgled cries.

Grammar Nazi pulled me through a cement room where women of all shapes and sizes were pressed against the wall throwing him the evil eye. A single light bulb hung in the middle of the damp room. Before being thrown into a tiny room in the corner, Grammar Nazi wrapped my wrists in thick black tape behind my back. He forcefully pushed me into the little room and locked the door, telling me he would be back in four days.

Tears raced down my face, running around the ball gag. The salt coating my tongue.

“Psst, don’t cry doll,” a woman whispered to me.

Even though I was locked in a little room, I was still able to see the people surrounding me. My eyes locked on a woman with a sad smile trying to soothe me.

“We’re all in here because we did something to piss off Mr. Facebook. I’m Sydnee by the way.”

My eyes looked down at her trying to figure out what she did wrong. She must have been able to read my face, because you answered my silent question.

“I liked too many things. Mr. Facebook took away my ability to like anything for three days. I get my thumbs back tomorrow.”

My eyes widened in horror when I she raised her hands up so I could see them, and noticed her thumbs were taped to her hands.

“It’s not so bad. I could have been, Greta.” She pointed to a woman trapped behind a glass partition. Her hands were pressed against the glass as she stared longingly at the women in the room. “Greta,joined too many groups too fast for Mr. Facebook’s liking. She can’t join a group for seven days. Poor girl.”

The woman shook her head as she pointed at another lady leaning against the wall. “That’s Susan.”

The woman Sydnee was pointing at raised her hand in a wave. Half of her fingers were taped down at the knuckles, her thumbs visible.

“Susan posted too many posts for her book. Mr. Facebook took away her ability to post. She can still like things and comment on others posts.”

My mind spun as I looked around at the women stuck in the jail cell. There were so many all of them stifled in different ways, because they did something to anger Mr. Facebook.

Now as I sit here in Mr. Facebook’s jail. I watch other people post pictures and jokes and have no means of communicating with them.

Be CAUTIOUS of Mr. Facebook’s rules, or you can end up in jail.
AND

BEWARE OF THE TROLLS. THEY LURK ABOUT EVERYWHERE………

Hello,

Remember me?

Yeah, me neither.

I have been telling myself that I need to write a blog post. I guess I’m finally taking my advice and doing it. I’ve become rather bossy inside my head.

Life has decided to give me a big middle finger.

I’m going to try and make this short, and see where it gets me. My kids are also on fall break. What does that mean? It means I’m secretly writing this on my phone hoping to get through it before someone gets hungry or hurt.

Aug. 21st I went and preformed at the Hollywood Improv. I was trying to juggle everything so blogging kind of went on the back burner. Also I had a book coming out Sept. 13th that I was getting ready for.

How was your set, you ask…

https://youtu.be/TGEOSsFCo1k

It was amazing. The audience seemed receptive to my brand of Jackassness. I’m pretty sure I floated off the stage.

That was on a Sat. Three days later the foundation I was firmly standing on shook. I’m still trying to recover my footholds and feel secure in day to day life 

I received a text from my dad saying that my mom…MY MOM…had a stroke. If you have been one if my loyal followers you would know how special my mom is to me. She is the one I take to Halestorm. She is the one I word vomit all my problems to 

My dad is the worst at relaying information. Hell, he’s the worst at answering the phone. I’m pretty sure when he sent me the text he pressed send looked down at the electronic rectangle, shrugged, thought I don’t need this any longer, and chucked it into a magical ocean that appeared to take the only form of communication I had with him. Suffice it to say it was the longest three hour drive of my life.

When I got to the ER my mom could only say Hi and I love you. She kept repeating it over and over again, while internally I was begging myself not to have a complete break down.

In the ICU she was only allowed to have two visitors. I convinced my dad and brother to go get some rest. Here is the thing about ICU they don’t want you to stay. I had one hard chair and nothing else. It didn’t matter I wasn’t leaving her.

That night she was woke up every hour. I was with her throughout the whoke thing. It was also the night she looked at me and said, “I love you, Joy” then turned aroud and corrected herself to,  “I love you, Sissy.” Yeah, the tears flowed.

The second night they realized I wasn’t leaving and a nice nurse brought me a blanket and pillow. 

My mom had a stroke that was caused by a clot breaking free from an aneurysm. Aneurysms run in my family. My grandma and aunt had one both at 56. (in about 10 years I suppose I’ll go get checked) Her aneurysm didn’t bleed or burst. It just had a piece break off. Of course my mom doesn’t do anything half assed. She had a huge aneurysm in the front of her brain in the middle of where the artery branches. 

She had surgery where an amazing surgeon and team placed a coil in the aneurysm and two stints on each side. 

I’ve never understood people wearing sports jerseys, but I can tell you I would proudly wear a jersey with her surgeons name on the back. Also her PT, Norman. He was a PT god, I watched him use PNF stretching where she moved her leg for the first time. He also let me do the PNF on her. Yeah, always the teachers pet. Or at least my mom teased me of that. 

Keeping myself busy in the hospital

Every day my mom improved. She was in the hospital for a month. I’m so proud of her. She is now home. She can walk without her walker ( I named it, Paul) She still gets frustrated, but it is amazing to see her get better and stronger every day.

 

Also during that time I pushed my book release back to Sept. 27th. I worked my ass off to get everything done but I had a lot on my plate. 

I made teasers and banners of my beautiful book cover. I ordered paperbacks for the signing I have on Oct. 22nd. On my release date I was so damn excited. Until around 11 o’clock when I got a message asking if I meant to spell Survivng wrong.

Nope

No

I sure did not

I looked at that damn cover over a thousand times and not once did I recognize it was wrong. 

Ughhhh

I called my printer but it was too late to find out of theg had been printed yet. The awesome customer service lady said she would email me if she was able to pause the shipping. Imagine my hysterical laughter when she sent me my tracking number. 

I owned up to it live on Facebook. Explaining that Surviing Faith paperbacks will be at the signing because I didn’t have time to order another set.

Readers were supportive and understanding. Some even saying they wanted the misspelled cover. The cover is now fixed so any other books I order will be spelled correctly.

So that has been my life lately. I’m still crusing along. I have a paperback giveaway going on right now. To enter all you have to do is add a review of Surviving Faith to amazon. I’ll pick the winner live at the author by the beach signing Oct. 22Nd. Also keep an eye out for the costume I’ll be wearing. 

Hollywood Improv

July 14th, my birthday. I went live and embarassed the hell out of myself. In Surviving Faith I wrote a song. Now when I wrote the song had the JackholeS in mind. So vocals in my head were done by Kill. Van would be on drums and D and Jet would have bass and guitar. 

The song in my head had some awesome solos in it to display the talent of all the band members. So me. A woman singing it doesn’t do it justice. Also I don’t have the greatest singing voice. So be nice when watching. I screwed up one of the lasr verses and my youngest son walked in at the end. I haven’t watched it yet either, but I heard at some point it glitches and my eyelids start fluttering. 

It took us three times to get Facebook to cooperate with us. It kept kicking me off. Most likely because it hated my singing voice 

Broken Faith

Ok, here is the link to my set at the Hollywood Improv.

I had so much fun, and I can’t wait to do it again. It sucks because I got some bad advice right before I left for the venue. My sister told me I needed to keep my hair down. I never ever ever leave my hair down. I told her I didn’t want to because I would fuck with it. She said it would be ok because then I wouldn’t be messing with the microphone. Well stupid me I left it down. I was nervous on stage but my hair playing made me look even more nervous than I was. The cardinal rule is to not do anything out of the norm when you are doing something new. Well I didn’t listen to myself.
I hope you enjoy the video. I can’t wait to do it again. I know with more practice I’ll be able to get my timing down.
The whole class was amazing by the way. I was so proud of them. Everyone of them brought their A game and I was excited to be in the same show as they were. Our teacher wrote us after the show, and complimented us even more.
This is a piece of the email he sent us.

“Great job on Sunday! How do I know it was a great job? Because the sound guy at the Improv said this was the best class show he’s ever seen and even better than some of the shows he’s seen booked at the Improv. This guy has been at the Improv for over a year and is also a stand up of 10 years and probably has seen more shows than you can imagine, so this is a helluva compliment!”

So here you go. If you enjoyed my performance I would appreciate you sharing the link.

So I did stand up tonight and I think people laughed. I will put the video on YouTube under Joy Eileen as soon as I can.
I have to say it’s like a tattoo, it’s addicting. I can’t wait to do it again. Here is proof until I get the real proof.

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Soooo….if you’ve been reading my blog, you know I have a weird desire to do comedy. In fact I did it once two years ago for my birthday. Here’s that link
Birthday Disaster
I have a friend (actually my first professional massage) that does a lot in the comedy world. He is hilarious (so is his adorable girlfriend that is an amazing photographer also. Jenny’s website)
While Derek Derek’s IMDB was being tortured by my elbows. We were talking about how he got into comedy. He told me about a class Tom Clark (Tom’s website) taught that he had taken. Long story short, he got a hold of Tom and coincidentally he had just started a class. I missed the first one, but I jumped right in.
This class was a big step for me. I battled my anxiety the whole time. Thankfully, not only was the teacher supportive the rest of the class was as well.
It was hard walking into the class because the rest of the students were on a whole other level than I was.
A lot of them have acting or comedy experience, podcasts, spots on a sports team, or just confidence up the ass Then there’s me. But I did it and not once ended up in the fetal position crying. (That pose is difficult with boobs)
Monday was my last class and it was bitter sweet. Everyone was so good, and I even got a couple of laughs.
So this Sunday my class and myself will be performing at the Hollywood Improv at 5pm. At the door it is $5 if you give the secret word (class) it is a two item minimum (food, drinks, handjobs) Someone from my class told me to tweet about it so I felt the blog would be a good way to get this out there.
Anyways….I have no friends so if anyone who wants to come and support me and laugh at the rest of my class I would love to see you there.

Yes…I went to The Comedy Store again. I absolutely love that place. I’m telling you one day I will be on that stage making people groan from my raunchy humor. It will happen.
We were supposed to go see Anthony Jeselnik, but JM bought the wrong tickets. So instead of going into the Main room at 8pm we were scheduled to go to the Original Room at 9pm.
JM was so upset that he ruined Valentine’s day. Seriously I was out of the house I didn’t care. With the extra time we decided to walk to Pink Dot to get something to drink. Now I had been fighting a migraine so before we left I took a migraine pill. (this will mean something later in this story) I’m not a big drinker. Honestly, I have a couple drinks show my boobs and pass out, but I wanted to have fun so I decided to let loose and hopefully the girls would stay put.
I bought a little bottle of vodka and poured it into my diet Pepsi. We went back to the Comedy Store and people watched while I sipped on my drink. JM left me to go pee so I did what anyone would do I made friends with the bouncer. I was asking him what I needed to do to sign up for open mic. We talked about what I needed to do, and we are now Facebook friends. Yay me.
JM came back and soon my drink was empty, and my bladder was full. When I came out of the bathroom Anthony Jeselnik was standing right in front of me. I debated for a second or two if I should fangirl decided against it and went back to JM. By coincidence he followed me to the front of the building.
I walked up to JM and told him that Anthony Jeselnik was behind me. JM looks over my shoulder and looks at me saying, “he is looking at you. What did you say?” It makes me sad how hard I had to convince him I was good and didn’t say a thing.
So Anthony made his round probably looking at the sold out line and went back behind the building.
Flashfoward it is now close to 1 in the morning. I have dutifully finished my two drink minimum. Now my bladder is full again. I stood up and realized I was buzzed. I didn’t take in the fact that I had taken a migraine pill earlier that day. I was standing in line doing the pee-pee dance when one of the waitresses told me I could use the Main Room bathroom. I was so afraid I was going to get lost, but I made it safe and sound.
While I was walking to a stall I saw someone out of the corner of my eye. I started to tell them “I’m sorry” for cutting them off and came face to face with my reflection.
Yes..I was talking to a mirror. That was when I realized I was more tipsy than I thought. I don’t know about men but when you have been drinking more than you usually do women will actually get board while peeing. While I was sitting down laughing at how stupid I am another woman walked in yelling that she had just got kicked out of the men’s bathroom. She was pissed (pun intended) because she was just going to pee in the urinal. This made me feel better because I may have been talk to your reflection in the mirror drunk but I wasn’t pee in a urinal drunk.
The rest of the night went by with tons of laughs. One comic dubbed me Big Tits McGee.
I just realized most of this post was bathroom related. Sorry about that.
I hope you all had a fabulous Valentine’s day.

One of my favorite posts was stories that happened while I was in my massage room. I haven’t posted Tales from the Table is awhile. I’m sure most of you have figured out by now that I have a talent for sticking my foot in my mouth. In fact i do it so often I have contemplated on many occasions if i should stick my feet in chocolate before leaving the house.

I have had two encounters lately where I wished my little tootsies were bathed in chocolate because I shoved them down my throat without any foreplay.

#1 Fruitcake oops

Normally when I walk into the room while I am adjusting the sheet and making sure everything is ready for the massage I will ask the patient if there is anything new I need to know about. This is the time they will tell me about any aches or pains they would like me to work on. Sometimes I will get some inappropriate responses. This was not one of those times.
I was massaging a patient who I have been seeing for many years now. The first time I massaged him I thought he was gay. I was super excited because I figured we would become the best of friends, and he maybe he would give me some fashion advice. Sadly he wasn’t gay but just a really amazing dresser. He is actually married with five kids. (Someday my gay prince will come and rescue me from Batman t-shirts and jeans)
Usually he will tell me everything hurts and to just fix him before going quiet. It sucks so much when a patient is quiet. I usually use the time to fix plot holes in my books. This particular time (right after Christmas) he told me that he ate way too much fruitcake. So much fruitcake he felt his muscles were full of the dessert.
Anyways… at the end of the massage as I was walking out of the room I turned to him and said, “I think I got all the fruitcake out of you.”
Our eyes locked in shock and I slithered away to wash the lotion and fruitcake embarrassment off my forearms.

#2 Starbucks and handjobs

If you have seen the movie Idiocracy the title will be hilarious. If you haven’t seen it I highly recommend it. I will warn you and say it is terrifying because it is something that could happen very easily.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0387808/?ref_=nv_sr_1

Anyways… I was once again in my dark little room with a naked man face down. This patient is also a long time patient of mine. He is a tad bit of a perv but I love him anyway. I try not to say things that he can use against me. I’m going to claim tiredness and allergies to the slip I made a couple of weeks ago.
When I walked in he was in position face down ready for my hands to do their magic, but I had yet to touch him.
Patient…I already feel the tension going away.
Me…(Smartass remark ready for fire) Well then you lay here for an hour and I’m going to go get a Starbucks.
Patient…No wait I still need you.
I start the massage and the conversations stops for a minute or two.
Patient…would it be better if I brought you a Starbucks?
Me.. No because then I would want to drink it and I would end up massaging you with one hand (As soon as the words left my mouth I wanted to grab them back. I had just given him ammunition and the massage was only five minutes in)
Patient… Well I don’t see a problem with that. Hell I will bring you three so you can massage me with one hand for the full hour.
Me…I don’t think you would be able to last the full hour. Just bring me a tall.

We both ended up bursting into laughter, because hell sometimes things are too funny not to laugh.

If you need some more cringe worthy moments please feel free to click the link below to read some of my other Tales from the Table.

https://itsjoysworld.net/2014/06/23/tales-for-the-table/

As some of you know being a stand up comedian is one of my goals in life. I tried it a couple years ago for my birthday and had the time of my life. I have wanted to go back but I haven’t had the opportunity as of yet. Here is the link to that one time

https://itsjoysworld.net/2014/07/27/it-was-my-birthday-and-i-will-embarrass-myself-if-i-want-to/

Weeks ago JM and I found ourselves kidless. When this rare occurrence happens we end up at The Comedy Store on Sunset.
Close to the end of the night Sunset Strip Jesus came in. Glided in? Walked on a really long sandbar? ( I didn’t have the balls to do that joke in front of him)
Anyways…Don Barris was on stage closing us out (the Sam Kinison set) when good ole Jesus struts in. People stopped listening to Don to Snapchat Jesus. Don stopped his set to bring him up onstage to get pictures. Since it was close to Christmas Don asked Jesus what he got for his birthday? His answer was candles. Which was hilarious.
It’s now 2:30 in the morning. On the way out of The Comedy Store I asked Jesus if I could get a picture. This man is huge. Case in point look at my shoulder and my hand. They look miniature.

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Sunset Strip Jesus asked if we come to The Comedy Store often. JM explained every chance we get because I want to pursue comedy. This giant turns to me and says, “let’s here it.”
So this is how I end up at 2:30 in the morning on the sidewalk in front of The Comedy Store on Sunset Strip doing a bit for a man dressed as Jesus.
I was stupid nervous. I tell him the first thing he needs to know about me is I’m a massage therapist. So to make things even more awkward he holds out his gargantuan hand. And what do I do? I start massaging it while I go into my happy ending set. At some point he grabs my hand and I watch as it becomes encompassed in his large hands. This is when I realize I’m getting a handjob by a man dressed as Jesus while talking about jerking someone off. According to JM he knew when this thought went through my head because I stuttered and my ears turned bright red.
Anyways I finished my bit and was told I was funny and should try the open mics. He did say I went too fast, but fuck (one T not two) I was nervous.
I told him I want to do the comedy university, but $470 is not available to me right now. Maybe I should start a kickstarter. Kidding.
So there you go. My Jesus Hand job story.

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