To Standup or Not to Standup

Recently I did a silly thing and now I'm beginning to blame my friends and family for it. I'm not used to putting blame on other people. I fuck up far too often to spend half my life pointing fingers. But this time I am. Sure, their hearts were in the right place, but perhaps their brain cells weren't. A shower of well meaning bastards, if you like. So what is this silly thing that I've done? Well, it's to enroll on a stand up comedy course at university. Look, if you can get university courses on Britney Spears and The Simpsons, then you sure as shit should be able to get university courses in Dennis Leary and John Bishop.

"That's the Way to Do It"

You see, people have long given me the impression that I am funny. That I am somehow amusing. That I make people laugh. That I'm like some kind of clown. Like some desperate, crack-addled homeless clown. What I don't think my friends realise is that people don't laugh at me. They laugh at me, which is completely different. Sometimes in bemusement, but most often in pity. I can't lie I'm excited, but I'm also hesitant at the prospect of making even more of an arse of myself than I already do. It's not the fact that it is taking place in a university that makes me nervous, afterall I've been to university before. Once you've sat in one hall full of people who thought they were complete smartarses, you've sat in them all, so nothing new to me there. No, it's the prospect of something else entirely which makes me nervous.

One of the things which makes new stand ups most nervous is the thought of getting a heckler in the audience. That doesn't bother me so much because I am quite adept at criticizing people. If they dare to be a smartarse then I'll verbally destroy them. Or failing that I'll just tell them to fuck right off. No, what terrifies me is not getting any laughs at all. Not one. No matter what I say the crowd just sit in complete silence as one joke bombs after another. Now that fucking terrifies me.

Would the Real Kieran Please Standup?

As I write this my first class is a couple of hours from now and I am sitting having a cup of coffee in some place belting out 1980's power ballads like there's no tomorrow, not knowing what to expect from tonight. And so I'll sit there and take it all in, the pearls of wisdom from a teacher who has been there, seen it, done it and bought the T-Shirt. And maybe one day I can buy a T-Shirt, but for now I'll sit here and sip this coffee, continue writing on this tablet thingy and try not to break down and cry when it's eventually my turn on stage.



***Update***
The night went very well indeed. The teacher Viv Gee was nice and encouraging. My fellow classmates were friendly, funny and supportive. I even felt comfortable enough telling everyone that this afternoon was spent explaining to my family priest how when I was 8yrs old, I once peed in my mum's kitchen bin when she was having friends around for drinks (but that's another story for another time).

Kieran x