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    Showing posts with label Amy Daulton. Show all posts
    Showing posts with label Amy Daulton. Show all posts
  1.  I saw the news today. 
    I don't think I'll ever get use to death notices on facebook. 

    One minute you're laughing while watching an octopus sexually harass a dolphin and the next moment your heart stops.

    Amy Daulton


    R.I.P.

    Like the row upon rows of police backs turned to Mayor DeBlasio, my leaving stand-up was an over reaction, but at the time it made sense. 

    Stand-up was an exquisite, challenging, oft fickle lover I'd unceremoniously dumped.  A decade later, I was trying to wriggle, wrangle and wish a return to her good graces after giving her my back.

    Amy was one of the original 7 here.  Samantha DeRose asked us to be on She So Funny, a new humor site she was launching. In less than a heartbeat I said yes. I was delighted to be the old crone blogging with a bunch of hilarious up-&-comers. I needed to wade in the water of social media which, during my hiatus, had become a tsunamai. Now I'd have 6 pairs of hands to hold. One pair belonged to Amy...

         Win-Win!   

    I came to She So Funny, pining for comedy's touch, her kiss, her rolling thunder. I thought with the heft and wit of 6 other funny women writing here, I might recapture comedy's favor, or at least her ocassional nod of recognition. 

    I'd like to say that Amy and I were fast friends, who hit 6 PM open mics in tandem and guffawed over coffee at my place. But with sadness all I can say is,

            Amy was here. 
                    Young, funny and beautiful.
                                                       Now she's gone.
    And Taylor Negron also...


    We'd be in a few clubs at the same time. I doubt he knew me, but I knew him; an ever present face on screens both large and small, an always unique voice in our comedy wilderness. I can never not laugh at words he carved into my head. 
                        "Area rug"



    Here's his 1 man workshop in story telling:
    California Gothic

    Here's my pal Nancy Lombardo in an informal chat with Taylor
    Nancy Lombardo Tribute to Taylor Negron

    Taylor I miss you already. You and Amy have fun. Tell Joan and Robin I said, hi.

    4 PM Sun. Feb 1, at Don't Tell Mama I'm singing & slinging jokes with Woody Reagan & Ann McCormack Join us!


    Posted by RHC at 2:30 AM | Labels: , , , , , | 5 comments | |

  2. My (not so) Charmed Life

    Sunday, September 2, 2012


    When I was younger, whatever I auditioned or tried out for I got.  I was a prima ballerina, cheer captain, gymnastics team co-captain, select chorus member, student council member …whatever the awesome people did, I did it and was probably the head awesomeness.  My, how times have changed.



    I believe that you are born with a limited amount of luck which should be evenly dispersed throughout your life.  I, unfortunately, did not get that life memo and used up all of my audition/try out luck before age 18.  I have not achieved anything of importance since then (because being captain of the cheerleading squad is EXTREMELY important).

    I have had the worst luck when it comes to comedy.  With auditions, with agents, with casting directors, with club bookers…I have stepped in shit all over the comedy world.  While trying to get booked at a particular club, I sent the booker a link to one of the best sets of my life.  After viewing the link, he told me that my comedy “tape” looks like I was “doing comedy for [my] friends in my basement”.  That particular set was taped at The Metropolitan Room during a sold out show.  I knew all of 10 people in the audience.  That booker is/was a fucking prick (to put it nicely).

    I have been called “fucking insane” by a casting director and an “insane Molly Shannon type” by another.  During another audition, a casting director said, “Are you fucking insane?  You aren’t supposed to touch the props!” (the props were a stuffed animal and a Santa hat).   I used to be a fairly level headed person; however, after being not casted because of my “insanity” by every casting director that I have ever come in contact with, I now have actually become insane.  Kind of like how Denzel is now always “The Hunt for Red October”.  Right?  Or is he always more Melvin B. Tolson from “The Great Debaters”?  Either way.

    As far as comedy club auditions go….getting passed in a major club happens as often as Lindsay Lohan doesn’t crash a car.  I have watched my friends have AMAZING sets at clubs around NYC and no one gets passed.  Fucking bullshit racquet.

    Am I pissed about all of this shit?  Fuck yes!  I have worked my ass off to fail.  I have:
    1)      Booked a national commercial that never ran because the product caused people to stroke out.
    2)      Gotten casted in a Saturday Night Live commercial parody for it not to run because it was too racist.
    3)      Landed a voice over for the Master Card “Priceless” ad that only ran in Dallas.
    4)      Auditioned for Mad TV and the casting director “showed me the door”.
    5)      Auditioned for the remake of “In Living Color” in a closet (I’m not sure it was actually an audition, but more of a private dance class for the casting director).
    6)      Not gotten into COUNTLESS comedy festivals.
    7)      And many other fantastic, fantastic opportunities where they were looking for a small blonde…but a sane small blonde.

    Success at Failure!


    Posted by Amy at 7:31 PM | Labels: , | 2 comments | |

  3. Amy Loves Condiments

    Sunday, August 5, 2012



    The inside right door of my refrigerator is completely stocked.  So much so, that by looking at my condiment door, one would think that I was a millionaire.  I have every condiment known to man.  I have about 4 different types of  mayonnaise, 5-7 types of mustard, hot sauce galore, salsas, chutneys, ketchup (yummy), a plethora of vinegars, BBQ sauce, steak sauces,  wostershire sauce, horseradish (well, all of the makings for a Bloody Mary), of course some packets of duck sauce, and finally, my all-time favorite  - salad dressing. 

    I have always loved salad dressing.  I started out my salad career with ranch dressing and quickly moved over to blue cheese.  I dabbled a little in French, honey mustard, creamy Italian, creamy parmesan, Poppy seed, etc.  However, once the delectable taste of vinaigrette hit my tongue, I never turned back.  Vinaigrette is the greatest culinary creation ever.  Balsamic vinaigrette, red wine vinaigrette, Greek vinaigrette, artichoke vinaigrette, lemon – garlic vinaigrette, shallot vinaigrette, Caesar vinaigrette….I can go on and on by putting any word in front of vinaigrette.  I enjoy a good salad and understand the health benefits, but there is nothing I love more than a soggy vinaigrette salad.

    Ted Nugent getting ready to shoot me.  It makes him very happy.
    Let’s be honest here…I drink vinaigrette.  I can’t get enough of the shit.  I used to hide my disgusting habit…actually duck into the women’s bathroom at my day job, to have my salad dressing time.  Now, I wear it proudly....on my face.  My favorite is Pret a Manger’s Balsamic Vinaigrette.  I could drink vats and vats of it….maybe even bathe in it.  Sometimes, Pret’s vinaigrette is the best part of my day.  I could be run over by a taxi, hit in the face by a homeless person then shot in the knee by Ted Nugent …but, follow that up with a cup of vinaigrette, suddenly everything is better and all is forgotten.  Vinaigrette is my Calgon.




    In conclusion, give me vinaigrette, or give me death!

    Posted by Amy at 4:34 AM | Labels: , | 0 comments | |

  4. Heck-lahs

    Saturday, July 28, 2012


    TheFreeDictionary.com definition:

    heck·le  
    tr.v. heck·led, heck·ling, heck·les
    1. To try to embarrass and annoy (someone speaking or performing in public) by questions, gibes, or objections; badger.
    2. To comb (flax or hemp) with a hatchel.
    n. heck*ler
    1. Someone who tries to embarrass you with gibes and questions and objections.

    Now, from UrbanDictionary.com:

    heckler
    a person who says shit while someone is trying to do stand-up comedy to screw him up cuz he's an asshole or if the act completley sucks.
    *”completely” was spelled incorrectly on the site. I made no changes.*

    Either definition works for me.  I love hecklers.  I will explain.

    I am a very aggressive person and I don’t get around to psychotherapy as much as I should.  I have no problem taking out my shit on someone who wants to “help out” my act from their seats.  I love it when I confront a heckler after a show and he/she will say, “I was just trying to help you out”.  I DON’T NEED ANY FUCKING HELP…thank you anyway.  I can be mean…really mean.  I grew up in a very mean family.  I have mean running through my veins and am always waiting for an opportunity to spray that mean all over anyone who may or may not deserve it.  Sometimes my response is funny, sometimes awkward…either way, I feel better.  

    My hecklers are not limited to one gender.  I have had one older woman stand up and say, “you depress me!!!”, then she stormed out of the venue (I was talking about how I wish that I had a ballsac, so I could star in teabag porn.  I think “depress” was not the word she was looking for).  I had another woman tell me that I “make her not proud to be a woman” (I think I was showing the cellulite on the back of my legs from eating fat free hot dogs 5 times a day).  I’ve had a man say, “Yo, you is stupid”.  He got me with that one.

    I am also known to turn a possible non-heckler into a heckler.  If an audience member is having their own conversation while I am on stage, I want to be a part of it.  It usually ends with me saying, “shut the fuck up!!’ and the audience member leaving the show.

    In conclusion, if you ever see me perform, please, feel free to join in.  I’m sure that I will have missed therapy by a couple of months at that point.  Yo, my shrink is expensive and shit!

     Bring it on, you weird looking old men.  I would say something like, "what the fuck is wrong with your faces and shit?".  Golden.

    Posted by Amy at 5:52 PM | Labels: | 0 comments | |

  5. Amy Loves Ambien

    Sunday, July 22, 2012

    Everyone always tries to blame Ambien for horrible mistakes.  Kerry Kennedy, for example, was recently charged with driving under the influence of drugs, after she hit a tractor trailer on I-684.  She claims that Ambien "made her do it".  Tiger Woods blamed Ambien for all of his affairs (actually, he only blamed Ambien his "car accident").  In 2008, a securities firm's CEO blamed Ambien for his car accident (his blood alcohol level was over .08 - which is legally drunk in New York).  I blame Ambien for a lot of things - like, helping me mistake my closet for my bathroom while in an Ambien sleep walk. Or, waking up in the morning with an empty casserole dish of last night's lasagna beside me - after an night of Ambien eating.  But, I don't blame Ambien for bad or reckless behavior.

    This is an example of an Ambien conversation that I had with my husband one night (he told me about it the next morning):

    My husband came home from work to find me asleep on the couch. He said, "you should be in bed". To which, I sat upright and began bawking like a chicken.

    Husband: For real, go to bed.

    Me: Bawk-bawk-bawk.

    Husband: Go to bed.

    Me: Bawk-Bawk!! Oh wait, I got a check in the mail today.

    I ran to the kitchen table, picked up a pile of papers, ran into the office and threw them (like a bowling ball) under the desk. Then proceeded to bawk the remainder of the way to bed.

    I received no check in the mail that day.

    Posted by Amy at 5:32 AM | Labels: , , | 1 comments | |

  6. Amy Loves Divorce Court

    Saturday, July 14, 2012

    I LOVE daytime television.  Especially judge shows.  I can name the bailiff on each of the court shows.  Is that a marketable skill?  I think so.  This is the summary of a recent case on Divorce Court:

    Tracey Jones vs. Lachester Jones - Judge Lynn Toler presided.

    Tracey sued her estranged husband, Lachester for 6 months rent ($2460). Lachester asked Tracey for a divorce because Tracey "don't got it no mo". Hence, the couple ended up in Divorce Court. By the way, the couple have one child together.

    When Judge Lynn asked Tracey if she agreed with Lachester about her "having it", Tracey replied "of course I still got it", and paraded in front of the Judge's bench with a shopping bag (a prop that Tracey brought into court to help prove her point). Tracey said, "see Judge? I still got it. This is how I look when I shop". Point Tracey.

    Lachester said that he had to divorce Tracey because "she nag and ain't cute no mo".

    Tracey said that she doesn't nag. She taught him a lot. Like how to wear his pants. She bought him a belt. He was wearing shoe strings in his pants to keep them up. Point Tracey.

    Lachester then stated that Tracey tricked him into marrying her by telling him that she had just won $50K in a sweepstakes and the check was coming. Point Lachester.

    Tracey said that Lachester would leave for 6 months at a time and shack up with other women. So, Tracey cut up all of his clothes and threw them in their front yard. Lachester said the reason why he left was he didn't have a key to his house. Point Tracey and Lachester.

    Lachester's sister, Doris Kimmons, testified on Lachester's defense. She said that Tracey was always on the chat lines looking for "thug boys". Point Lachester.

    By this time, Judge Lynn was tired of all of the foolishness. She awarded Tracey $2050 (5 months rent) and told her to "handle (her) business like (she) can handle her business". Sound advice, if I have ever heard any.

    She then told Lachester, "don't have no babies until you are stable. The last thing that we need is baby mama drama". Well put, Judge Lynn, well put.


    My scoreboard

    Tracey - 3 points
    Lachester - 3 points

    Results: Even though the scored was tied, Tracey presented her case with more finesse.

    Judgment

    I agreed with the judgment.

    Posted by Amy at 8:17 PM | Labels: | 1 comments | |

  7. Amy Loves Her Husband

    Sunday, July 8, 2012

    As I am sitting here trying to come up with something brilliant to write, all I can hear behind me is my husband slurping his cereal.  I am incredibly annoyed by this.  He eats so FUCKING loud!  Why does he make so many noises when he eats?  Oh, and the spit strings.  Let me tell you about his spit strings.  He'll eat ice cream (very loudly, I might add.  How does one manage to eat ice cream loudly?) and creamy spit strings will start forming in the corners of his mouth.  It is so gross.  My gag reflex goes into overdrive when I see that.

    I made him go into another room so I could concentrate.  I can still hear him!!  I want to punch him in his throat.

    Marriage sucks.

    Posted by Amy at 5:26 AM | Labels: , | 1 comments | |

  8. Amy's First Time

    Saturday, June 30, 2012


    Amy’s First Time.

    The date was November 10, 1998, the place, Buzz Coffee, Los Angeles.  That was the day that my stand up cherry was popped.

    I had just moved to Los Angeles from Charlotte, North Carolina in June 1998, and had given myself 3 years to become “famous” (like Madonna famous).  As I look back on my original plan, I realized that was one of my funniest jokes ever. …”Madonna famous in 3 years”…hilarious.

    I was taking improv classes at The Groundlings School and met a girl named Rylee Newton in my Level 2 class.  She was thinking about doing some open mics and asked if I wanted to come along.  “Fuck yeah”, I said.  Well, maybe it was, “Hell yeah!”, or possibly even, “I’m feeling thin, want to get a burrito?”.

    For a couple of weeks, I painstakingly watched Rylee suffer through her 5 minute sets – literally reading her jokes off a piece of paper (by the way, Rylee is an AMAZING comedian.  She has performed on Comedy Central, etc.  She is living in Portland, Oregon now.  If you ever have an opportunity to see her perform, do so.  It will be worth your while).  I finally grabbed my lady balls, and decided that it was time to do the do.

    I had written material for weeks…and all of my jokes were BRILLIANT, of course (see below for an example of on of my brilliantly written jokes for my first set.  Get ready to be blown away by my comedy genius).  Sunday came around and it was time to do an open mic and get famous.

    Once at Buzz, I signed up for a spot and nervously awaited my turn.  The night slowly dragged on.  Finally, Joe Wagner was on stage and I was on deck – ready to blow people’s minds.  During Joe’s set, he either accidentally or purposely poked fun at an old man in the audience, which didn’t go over well.  All hell broke loose.  The old man jumped out of his chair, rushed the stage and took a swing at Joe.  The old man’s wife jumped on her husband’s back and tried to restrain him.  Chairs and lattes were a-flying.  It was like a fucking Wild West saloon fight.  All of the excitement was moved outside so the show could continue.  Most of the audience followed the chaos outside.  So, 3 people remained inside to watch my set: Hal Sparks (only because he was going up after me), Rylee and Adam Gropman, who was running the mic.

    I walk up on stage and begin my set with (hold onto your pants…shit is getting ready to be brilliant), “I hit myself in my face while I was doing Taebo and my roommate asked how I got my black eye.  I told her that my boyfriend hit me.  She said, ‘I didn’t know that you had a boyfriend’”.  HILARIOUS.  I stood there waiting for a glorious outbreak of applause.  Instead, I heard crickets and saw three blank and confused faces.  I blacked out for the remainder of my set.  I have no idea what I said, or how I said it.  Whatever it was, didn’t lead to a development deal from NBC. 

    14 years later, I’m still “pushing the rock up the never ending hill” and trying to lead myself to the promise land.  I have a huge fan base that consists of my two dogs.   Living the dream, people.  Living the dream.

    Posted by She So Funny at 9:00 PM | Labels: , | 4 comments | |