Upcoming Shows!

In addition to what's listed, I'm always trying to get spots last minute, so you could end up seeing me anywhere! Support Vancouver's live comedy scene, and come out!

Okay, finally have set an ACTUAL return date for Amuse Bouche. Friday, December 9th, 8pm, Slickity Jim's! YAY! 

Sunday, December 4th, 10pm
Stand up set
Comedy Rehab @ The Forum Public House
1163 Granville Street

Wednesday, December 7th, 8pm
Stand up set, song, guest in sketches
TITMOUSE! @ Kozmik Zoo, 53 West Broadway

Friday, December 9th, 8pm
AMUSE BOUCHE @ Slickity Jim's Chat n' Chew
Hosting w/ Ian Boothby
Our guests - Ben Mills and Graham Clark! (Holy shit!)

Thursday, December 15th, 8:30pm
Stand up set
Do Not Apologize Comedy @ Sorry Babushka
2095 Commercial Drive

Fridays December 16th, 23rd, 30th...
8pm, Slickity Jim's.
Weekly lineups TBA!
Best little bit of backroom, mic free comedy in town!

Monday, January 9th, 9pm
Stand up set
Blind Panther Comedy @ The Prophouse Cafe





It's A Beautiful Day For A Revolution

I Occupied Vancouver today. Or is it Occupy Vancouvered?  Here are some things that happened.

First we ate at the Re:Up BBQ Cart. Pulled pork and bacon with sauce and bacon...oooh...and some sweet tea to wash it down.  After all, we couldn't protest poverty and hunger on empty stomachs.

No pictures of the food, it just got ate too damn fast.

This is my kind of drum circle.

We are protesting all kinds of things today.

They are smiling because I just told them that I will use the picture to prove to my out of town friends how handsome Vancouver cops are.

This woman is occupying some revolutionary shoes.

Waiting for the iPhone 5.

It was a VERY peaceful protest.

You can tell it's ironic because of how tight his pants are.

After I took this picture he let me cup his balls.

The soles of Darren's shoes are perfect. It's like he didn't protest at all!

Main Street Occupies Vancouver

The wind got pretty cold, so we walked down to Gastown to occupy Re:Volver for a while and have a coffee, but it was very occupied already, so we occupied the St. Regis hotel bar for a pint and a warm, leathery booth.

My favourite sign I saw all day said, "You can still be rich, just not THAT rich".  Which I think pretty much sums it up.

Good job, everyone!


What I Am Doing With My Life.

Whatever I want, no kidding. A friend and I were swigging whiskey into the wee hours at an art opening at Save On Meats the other night, (the air was full of pork), and this friend, who likes to get a bit loud and to the marrow of things, wanted to know my life's ambition. Immediately I said, "I want my own show." So we discussed ways of getting me to New York City to do it. It was exciting, and all future vision, etc. Over the course of the next bits of conversation I twice had realizations and further distilled my life's ambition, arriving finally at "I just want to do my thing." We both understood at the same time that I have actually achieved said ambition and am very happily doing my own thing. We high fived. It was probably four in the morning by then, so we ate the last remaining olives, swigged our last remaining whiskey, and swaggered on out into the Downtown Eastside night, elated with knowing we were in the right place, at the right time.


I Dream I Am A Child

This is a dream I had last night, the one just before waking, and it has not left my body all day long. It came at the end of a long night of dreams of running from riots, of constant motion to stay ahead of danger, and keep my loved ones safe. Of hiding and watching helplessly as suffering and fire erupted all around me. I woke several times, but always fell back into the same dreams. The world, I think, is on fire, and I am feeling such strong empathy for all human creation. Plus, I'm working some of my own demons out. Here is the last dream before waking, and when I woke, I was sobbing.

I am an eight year old child. A black boy. My father is dying. He is my only protection and companion in the world. I lost him, but have found him again, in a small apartment, furnished only with the skinny, wooden platform on which his body lies. There are some remnants of clothing and some garbage bags strewn about the room, the walls are white, and there are tattered bamboo blinds on the windows, which are half closed. A flickering light comes through them, which is hazy, and looks like night, though it is day, because of the smoke. All around us in the streets there are riots, chaos, danger. The shouting and screaming never stops except for the occasional moment, when it seems as if all the souls are taking a collective in breath at the same moment. A small window of opportunity for reflection. It is in one of these moments, when I am lost in the streets and desperate to find my father, that a kind woman points me in the right direction. She tells me he is dying, so I think I am prepared, and she warns me it will happen soon, and I should go straight there, as if I would stop anywhere. Suddenly I find myself in a skinny stairwell, the walls are a dirty green, and the stairs were painted black, but are peeling and rotting in some places. Then I am in his room, with the smoky, orange light, and the flickers of all the flames outside making strange shadow plays on the wall. My father is under a thin blanket, and he does not look sick, but he seems to be disappearing. For a minute I am grateful to be out of the streets, to be somewhere where no one is chasing me, where the threat of violence seems temporarily far away, a background noise. He explains to me that he is dying, that he is on fire from the inside. Then he reaches into himself and begins to pull out his bones, which are made of charcoal, to prove to me that he is burning. I take a bone he hands me and it squeaks and turns to dust in my hand as I squeeze it so tight. I keep it in my fist as my father sits up and I throw myself into his arms, screaming and sobbing, “Daddy, please don’t die. Please don’t go, daddy.” Screaming in his arms, holding his bones in my tiny frame, hearing the squeaking of him as he is turning to charcoal dust in my hands. He holds me that tight, too, and my small frame is overloaded with grief and fear, and the feeling of imminent loneliness.



I just got a new camera. To replace a broken camera. It made me think about all the electronics I have laying around. I dug deep in my brain to see if I could remember what they all are. I am thoroughly disgusted with myself.

4 digital point and shoot cameras
2 Casios, both broken (second one bought to replace first one, which I dropped the first day I had it)
2 Panasonics, one broken (first one bought to replace the 2nd Casio, which I dropped eventually, second purchased to replace the one I dropped on Christmas Day)

1 digital SLR camera, working but complicated beyond my scope and needs

1 35 mm SLR camera, broken (would still like to get this fixed, still miss 35mm)

1 Polaroid Camera (I love it, but hard to find film now, also – not useful for recording comedy sets in any way)

1 Sony video camera (great little video camera, but only has firewire output, and my MacBook does not have a firewire port)

5 (!!!) Cellular telephones
1 LG Telus phone – still works
1 Motorola Telus phone – still works
1 Pantech Telus phone – my all time favourite phone, now discontinued, and wanted to use it when I moved to Fido last month, but it started doing weird things, and then Fido said I had to get one of their phones, anyway.
1 Nokia Fido phone
1 Kyocera phone – my New York number and hands down the worst piece of electronic equipment I have ever used.

1 MacBook Aluminum – love it and excellent, except no Firewire port
1 Mac Powerbook laptop – super old but good for running Final Cut Pro
1 Mac Mini – older model, hand me down and down – ethernet ports don’t work but otherwise solid

1 iPod touch 4
1 iPod shuffle 2nd gen
1 iPod shuffle 1st gen
1 iPod mini – broken, after being dropped

Seemingly hundreds of sundry cords, connectors and chargers for various things. Miles of ethernet and phone cable.

I think that covers it. I just wanted to lay it out in my mind, before I get home and lay it out physically and take pictures. It’s incredible how much electronic equipment I have amassed. This list doesn’t even include speakers, microphones, headphones, electronic instruments…..