Happiness Isn't Funny

Moving to Substack

2021-10-20T07:21:00.001-07:00

Just wanted to let the few readers who forgot to unsubscribe to this blog know that I am back. But not here. I started a substack. Substack pretends it's a newsletter but if you're old enough you know the truth. It's a blog. So go here https://gabrielrutledge.substack.com/ and please subscribe. It's free by the way. My first post is an exerpt from my new book that will be out someday. I'm going to try and post something a couple times a month.

I wrote something, just not here

2020-07-14T17:12:00.000-07:00

Hello! (dust flies everywhere) I'm writing a book this year. Another "year in the life of" book like my last one Happiness Isn't Funny:True Stories of a Roadcomic. It's print on demand so there are plenty of copies of that book still available https://www.amazon.com/Happiness-Isnt-Funny-Stories-Comic/dp/0692276378 It came out in 2014, but most of it was written in 2010 so I figured it was time for a 10 year update. It's been quite a year. It's probably my fault, I was afraid I wouldn't have enough drama to make the book interesting. I posted an excerpt of one of the entries that will be in my new book on Medium just to give people a little taste of what doing comedy in the middle of a pandemic is like. So click this link!
https://medium.com/@gabrielantelope/on-the-road-performing-comedy-in-the-time-of-covid-5ec977815856

Medium says it's a 6 minute read, but don't feel pressured. You read it in the amount of time most comfortable for you.

Missed Connection

2017-10-22T20:08:00.000-07:00

I posted a Craigslist Missed Connection today

Get Off My Lawn

2017-08-26T14:37:00.000-07:00

I remember the day Kurt Cobain died pretty well. Not the actual date, I just had to Google that. April 8, 1994. I was 20. I played drums in a band called Mushmouth at the time. Great band if you like your punk rock songs to be loud, fast, and unnecessarily complicated. In our youthful arrogance we thought we should have been more popular, but in hindsight we were probably exactly as popular as we should have been. Our friend Kristi was at almost all of our shows. She later became my wife, so I guess she likes her men to be loud, fast, and unnecessarily complicated too. If you were a part of the Olympia punk rock scene like we were, everyone had Kurt Cobain stories. He lived there pre-fame so a lot of the people a few years older than us knew him personally. No one in Olympia talked about Nirvana or Kurt with a sense of awe, it was mostly who Kurt used to date in Olympia, who was taking care of the turtles he left behind, and how they liked Nirvana's first album better. So for the wannabe cool kids like we were, we sort of felt like we had to pretend we weren't impressed with his rock stardom either. If I was cool (or at least aware) a few years earlier I could have seen Nirvana in a dorm room at Evergreen State College, but instead the only time I saw them was at Key Arena in Seattle with 15,000 other people, and the only time I met Kurt was at a storage unit our band practiced in. I'm still waiting for the episode of Storage Wars were they pull the door up to reveal a band.

"Sorry folks looks like there's nothing of value in this one, let's move on to our next unit!"
*door shuts
Singer looks at rest of band "Guys that's it! This band is called...Nothing Of Value!

The lady who managed the storage units had told us in hushed tones that Kurt Cobain rented a unit there, but we didn't really believe her until he and Courtney Love showed up one day to collect all his stuff about 5 doors down from our unit. Kurt was nice enough to invite us over and offer us some of his crap. A lamp, a broken stereo, that kind of stuff. Courtney was grumpy. "You guys aren't writing a book are you?" I think at the time some sort of unauthorized biography had come out about them. No, I wasn't writing a book. I wasn't really writing anything, which is why I was in the process of flunking out of South Puget Sound Community College.
On the day he died I remember a friend texted me and told me people on Twitter were saying Kurt Cobain died. Grandpa's kidding of course, there was no texting or tweeting in 1994. Someone called and I turned on MTV News. That's right kids in the 90's we had to grieve without hashtags. It was a #SimplerTime. Mushmouth had a show that night at a house party in Portland. We were sad about the news of course, but in a weird way it was almost like since we weren't supposed to be impressed with his rock stardom, we also couldn't admit the significance of his death. I don't remember thinking any American Pie "This is the day the music died" thoughts. It was more like "Oh, he used to be close to my friends sister, I wonder how she's holding up today?" It was a surreal day for sure, and the house party we played at had a weird "Nobody lives forever, so maybe lets drink an extra 40oz of Olde English 800" feel to it. I remember walking out of the party and seeing two people fucking on the grass next to the sidewalk in front of the house. We all grieve differently I guess. It shocked my 20 year old brain to see it. Partly because in '94 you couldn't just do a porn search for "Punk kids have sex in lawn", but also because I had just lost my virginity 2 months earlier. February 8th to be exact. 2/8/94. #NeverForget. I had built sex up in my former church kid virgin brain to be this life altering event that could only be achieved after completing a spirit quest to find a Coitus Wizard who gave you the magic key that would unlock the vagina of the woman who was wearing the other half of the penis locket I'd never noticed I was wearing. But then I had sex and... it was great, but also...not nearly as life altering as I thought it was going to be. And now a few months later I was watching two drunk idiots on a lawn do the thing that I had built up in my head to be so important. It was like they were mocking me. It's weird when your life goal is someone else's rock bottom. I feel like that now when I see celebrities headlining comedy clubs because their TV/Movie career isn't going well anymore. I'm hanging out on the 1st rung of the show business ladder on purpose. They fell there. Stand up comedy now actually reminds me a lot of the punk rock scene of the early 90's. Except the 10 people sleeping in the "punk house" were in their 20's, the 10 people sleeping in a "comedy house" are all 36.
Anyway when people talk about the day Kurt Cobain died I always think of people banging on a lawn. Not the best tribute to Kurt or my young adulthood, but you can't choose your memories. I wonder what the 2 people I saw having public sex at a party think when someone asks them if they remember the day Kurt Cobain died. "Well no...not really, but according to witnesses I had quite a night." Hopefully they didn't make a lawn baby that night. If they did it's 23 now. #HappyBirthdayLawnBaby

Footprints In The Sand

2017-06-09T15:59:00.000-07:00

One night I dreamed a dream.
As I was walking along the beach with my Lord.
Across the dark sky flashed scenes from my life.
For each scene, I noticed two sets of footprints in the sand,
One belonging to me and one to my Lord.

After the last scene of my life flashed before me
I looked back at the footprints in the sand.
I noticed that at many times along the path of my life,
especially at the very lowest and saddest times,
there was only one set of footprints.
"I don’t understand why, when I need You most, You would leave me.”

The Lord said "Sorry about that, I stopped to pet a dog."

Still Got It

2017-03-25T16:21:00.001-07:00

I did a show at a bar last night. No stage, so I'm performing on the floor close to the bathroom. (I'm a pretty big deal.) About 20 minutes into my show a woman comes out of the bathroom gives me this folded up paper towel note says "bye" and leaves.

It says "I'm a labor nurse. Some people should have to have a license to procreate!"

I know a lot of comedians who have gotten phone numbers from audience members at shows, but I think having someone slip you a note that asks you to stop breeding shows real game.
I added it to the family picture wall.

Tasmanian BDevilSM

2016-10-26T15:19:00.000-07:00

This was some of the reading in my daughters 3rd grade homework. Tasmanian Devils are into some next level shit. If my wife ever leaves me I think I'll use this as my Tinder Bio.

My Safeword Is Meatloaf

2016-08-19T13:00:00.000-07:00

I made more things people can buy! Or not. Sometimes I feel proud and productive when I think of the albums and book I've created and sometimes I feel like I'm just adding to the pile of shit people can ignore. Jesus that's a little negative for promotional blog post. I apologize. I'm out on the road right now and I'm typing this from a Motel 6 in Medford Oregon, I'm not feeling like my most positive self. Motel 6 is really proud of themselves for remodeling their rooms, but they haven't remodeled their clientele. Sketchy people are loud and they like to get up early. And they have dogs. I'm exhausted. You can set up an IKEA bedroom in a Greyhound bus station, but it's still not going to be a great place to sleep.

Let's start over. Hey everybody! My new album "My Safeword is Meatloaf" is now available!

On iTunes and everywhere else you can buy and stream digital things. You can buy the actual CD too.

But wait there's more!! My new DVD "My Safeword is Tucson" is also now available.

Actual DVD is $15 plus shipping or you can rent or buy the digital download. $3 for rental $7 for purchase. I know it only costs $5 to buy Louis CK's specials, but it only takes him a year to write his. This one took a lot longer than that so it's $7. The DVD and CD are not the same recording, but it's mostly the same material. OK, I'm going to try and nap while my hotel neighbors are out foraging for meth. Also here's a silly video my son and I made to promote the album that you can watch. Or not.

Cool Ranch

2016-06-10T12:00:00.000-07:00

Sleep must make me optimistic because I'm always a little overly excited for my first email check of the day.

"I bet the president of show business emailed me in the middle of the night!"

Nope, just my friends at Amazon with an early morning fuck you.

Jesus Amazon. Truthfully, I've never not been at least a little interested in Cool Ranch Doritos, but what recent activity let you know? I think the last thing I bought from you was a shirt. Was it because it was a 2XL so you made some assumptions about my diet? Or maybe it's because I ordered a XL first then sent it back and got a 2XL? Why not just say

"Based on your recent inactivity, we thought you might be interested in this."

Algorithm's can be cruel. So can genetics. Also $12.30 for an 11oz bag of chips? I blame the legalization of marijuana in my state. Even if you think I'm the kind of customer who wants to get into the chip shipping game Amazon, why not let me know I can get 64 1.75oz bags of Cool Ranch Doritos for $51.76? At 80 cents a bag with free shipping I can't afford to not be interested.

Plus, the reviews are really good.

Most of them anyway.

I think if Charlene was being honest she would admit she felt completely crushed the day she ordered them too.

*Edit

The day after I posted this blog Cinnabon followed me on Twitter. Not sure why the cyber universe is giving me this message, but it doesn't feel good. Maybe it's time to go offline and find a safe space. Like a treadmill.

Oh, and don't bother sending me an email about it Amazon, I already checked.

Beer Hero

2016-06-04T11:05:00.000-07:00

I recently did a show at what I'm just going to call "a casino." I've done the show 4 or 5 times over the years (Okay 9-10) and not only does this casino offer table games, slot machines, a regrettable seafood buffet, indoor smoking, and a free comedy show in the sports bar; it also has a movie theater. The comic I was traveling with Matt Eriksen and I decided before we even got there, that not only were we going to the 10:05pm showing of Captain America: Civil War, but we were going to sneak beer in. I mean we had to right? We are both fathers of 3, making sound well thought out decisions is how we got this far in life. I was thinking I'd stick a couple cans in my pants (Hey Oh!), a couple in my sweatshirt, waddle into the movie theater and call it good, but luckily Matt Eriksen is not such a small thinker.

"Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity."
-Greek Philosopher Seneca

"What if we snuck the beer into the theater in my CPAP machine?
-Matt Eriksen

"Holy shit, are you serious?"
-Me

"Yes."
-Matt Eriksen

"That would be amazing! Also, you have Sleep Apnea?"
-Me

"Yes."
-Matt Eriksen

Anyone can turn lemons into lemonade, but when life gave Matt Eriksen Sleep Apnea, he filled his CPAP machine with a 12 pack of Busch beer and snuck it into a movie theater. That's way more impressive.

And yes of course it was Busch beer. What were we going to sneak a grapefruit infused micro brew into a rural casino movie theater? Not in my America. Besides this guy looks like a Busch drinker.

He also looks like Bane's asthmatic younger brother, but the point is who's going to question this guy on what's inside the bag connected to his breathing machine? Especially at a casino where a lot of people are carting around oxygen tanks. I guess someone else with Sleep Apnea could have seen him and recognized it as a CPAP machine, but even then they probably would have just thought "Jesus I'm glad mine's not that bad, this dude snores when he's awake." Matt got way into character. Put on some sweatpants, made a big production about saying he didn't want Dr. Pepper when we where buying tickets, he went full method actor and it was impressive. I wanted to play along, but all I could do was barely not laugh. When we finally got into the theater I laughed until tears streamed down my face. I am 42 years old and I laughed like a 10 year old who's friend just farted at a sleep over. I felt high before I even started drinking. Luckily Captain America was a good beer sneaking movie. Plenty of on-screen explosions to time our beer openings with. I'm glad we picked that one, we might have really upset the other movie goers with the ill timed crack of a beer during a pivotal scene in The Angry Birds Movie. How was Captain America: Civil War? I gave it 6 beers which means I'm not really sure. It's a little fuzzy. I do know that night in a casino movie theater I learned something. I learned that not all heroes wear costumes. Some heroes don't need a cape and a shield. Sometimes they wear sweat pants and have snoring issues. God bless you CPAPtain America, and may God bless us all.