Archive for the ‘comedy’ Category

I wrote this in 2014 for a friend going through some stuff. Today this felt like something I needed to hear
Don’t lose hope especially on the days that seem hopeless.
Life is messy.
You will be the lone article of clothing in a wash machine. A single sock…being agitated, rinsed, and spun. You will feel beaten, turned upside down, and inside out.
You will find a rhythm.
You will find a routine.
You will adapt.
You may not be as productive as you have been. Mr./Ms I need to do this or that
You will find a routine.
Just a warning.
When your routine gets comfortable the wash machine will start again.
Once again you will adapt.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
You will find time for your passion. Even if it is snippets. It may even help keep you sane.
Keep the hope. This may all be for nothing.
Take care of yourself. That is important.
DON’T STOP LAUGHING.
DON’T FEEL BAD FOR LAUGHING.

Sooooo.. I started a podcast. I’ve been beyond busy. What can I say? I’m a big girl of course my plate would be full

Don’t worry, Leap of Fate is on its way. Van and Jessie are almost ready.

Happy Endings is a podcast where I massage comedians and other entertainers while they answer questions. I have 18 episodes ready to post. I posted 2 and will post a new one every Monday.

Right now they are available on Soundcloud and Stitcher. Itunes and I are not on speaking terms. Hopefully they get their act together soon.

At first started asking the comics about comedy, but after editing them to get rid of the long pauses I decided to change the format. Like all good things this podcast will evolve into something better.

It’s a unique idea why not be a unique interview?

The podcasts I have done obviously are not going to change, but I think the podcast is starting to find its legs. I can’t wait to see how the podcast will grow.

Enjoy listening!!!

Candice Thompson

Sam Tripoli

night-vintage-music-bokeh.jpgIt recently came to my attention that myself and another comic are in fact using the same me too joke.

Because this person has a bigger career and they did it on TV they’ve claimed it. And that’s….Hollywood.

They beat me in the equivalent of, I licked it it’s mine.

And through this whole thing all I could think is, damn I wish they would have jerked off in front of me and came on my face. It would have hurt less.

Now, I will go on the comedy record and say, I’m not accusing this person of stealing. It was a very easy set up and punchline. Butt fuck (two t’s on that butt) it hurt.

This is my goodbye to that joke. I refuse to be labeled a hack by using others jokes.I just hope my tongue is quicker next time

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….

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.