Last night we recycled last week's list for open mic. A bunch of people didn't show, so Jeff threw up a bunch of people who weren't on the list. The crowd was weird, a kind of talky that goes beyond annoying but doesn't quite reach heckling and therefore require removal. Paul Harris did get "kicked" in the stomach though, apparently because he claimed a woman's pants were pink, she claimed they were red. Fair enough, I've seen people killed over that same issue. In the streets.
My set was fine, I'm still tinkering with the ending to that smoking joke (tinkering means I am trying the same line over and over again and hoping it will work better this time) and my Shoes joke. Gabe Kea said he liked my energy level; he said that I started out kind of low, but brought it up to the right balance of excited and relaxed by the middle of my set. After the show, Gabe and I picked up Sarah and we saw Tropic Thunder, it was pretty decent; very over the top. I kind of liked it, but probably not enough to warrant buying it.