Posted tagged ‘comedy’

Penguin Gangsta Rap

April 21, 2013

Last Tuesday, I performed another DJ gig at The Peacock Room, an Orlando bar.  During my gig, a guy named The Shinobi MC was scheduled to perform.  Truth be known, I was expecting another MC with the name Shinobi.  Yet, this Shinobi’s performance did not disappoint.

white nerdcore rapper


The highlight of the evening was his performance with MC Shammers, an MC whose performance I witnessed before at a nerdcore event.

white nerdcore rapper

As the instrumental of Notorious B.I.G.’s “Ten Crack Commandments” played, the two rhymed about being gangsta penguins.

Bad Santa and the Angry Elves Return

December 23, 2012

Last Saturday night, I witnessed another Bad Santa and the Angry Elves show.

Bad Santa and the Angry Elves Drum

This event happened at The Hideaway, a bar and grill located on Orlando’s Virginia Drive.

Like I mentioned in a previous blog, I blogged about Bad Santa last year.

Also, my DJ set at The Peacock Room was before them.  Due to personal matters, I couldn’t stay and watch.

At The Hideaway, I missed the first set, an event that happened outside.  Boy, was it cold too.   Too cold for Florida.   In fact, two outside heaters warmed patrons.

outside heater


A fund raiser and toy drive for kids with cancer took place too.

Kids Beating Cancer

The Hideaway 12-22-2012 017

Bad Santa


The second set took place inside.

From left to right: Christian Kelty, Tom Castiglia and Debra Myers.

Christian Kelty, Tom Castiglia and Debra Myers


Matt Myers

Matt Myers


Stephanie Brabec

Stefanie Brabec


Some songs are profane.  Some are traditional mixed with rock.  Also, Bad Santa always mixed with the crowd.

Bad Santa 2

Bad Santa 3

Bad Santa 4

Bad Santa 5

Bad Santa 6


My hat even wound up in the act.

Bad Santa and My Hat


Matt took over the drums from Stephanie.

The Hideaway 12-22-2012 060


Stephanie sung a number with Debra.

The Hideaway 12-22-2012 061


I think this was their last performance of the year.

Bad Santa 7

Bad Santa 8

Bad Santa 9


For next year, I promise myself to witness and photograph the fun and entertaining event again.

Fuck 80s Night!

October 4, 2012

Next time someone tells me they love 80s music, I’m cursing them the fuck out.

Why am I so bitter?  After hearing people requesting 80s music all the time during my DJ gigs, a night dedicated to the 80s happened last night.

And few people showed. For the few who did attend, they have my deepest appreciation.

Yet, what really pulled my testicles was this: the ones declaring their love for the music didn’t show.

Now, I’m beginning to see the light.  When folks say they love 80s music so much, they really just want me to cater to them all night. To make the evening theirs, they snatch the 80s out of their ass.

Truth be known, this could have been any genre.  Folks could have easily pulled the same shit about 70s music.

I wonder if younger DJs receive requests for 80s music.  Or is 80s requests something older DJs like me receive.  Older people aren’t the only ones who ask for it.  Younger people do too, especially the women.

To be fair, the Presidential debates happened last night.  Although we didn’t watch it in the bar, I later read on the Internet about Romney fuckin’ with Big Bird.

I hope Big Bird kicks his ass.


Also, the rest of our small downtown seemed slow too.

Who knows? Maybe, we just picked the wrong time to choose an 80s night.  Next month, we’re going to give it another go.  If that fails, I don’t want to hear no more shit about loving the 80s.

Some Friends and Relatives Ain’t Shit

September 5, 2012

“It seems as if once you get your foot in the door, the more bullshit you have to deal with.”

I never forgot those words from my buddy Keith.

Me and Keith

For DJs wishing for friend support, some friends you don’t want coming to your gigs. Understand this isn’t a complaint blog.  It’s an observation.   As I blog about people pissing me off during my DJ gigs, I realize a little more than half are people I know personally.  Most I knew before my DJ career.  Some I met during my DJ career.  Yet, both tend to be fucking annoying, especially when they start dictating my song choices.  (Let it be known all of my friends don’t behave this way at my gigs, just the few who need to stay home.)

Recently, I’ve been reading about friends and relatives of lottery winners.  After winning the state lottery, one man’s brother attempted killing him.  Also, after she won the lottery, one woman talked about friends taking advantage of her.  She would go out to dinner with them.  Then, when the bill came, friends claimed they didn’t have any money, something that never happened before the woman won the lottery.  Because of that, the woman stopped going out with them.

As I read books about making money, I realize I may lose friends on my way to success.  Isn’t that some shit?  All because you got off your ass and made some money for yourself, folks resent you.  I read one book forcing me to confront that ugly reality: Friends and relatives resenting you for becoming successful.   If I want to become a rich nigger (see previous blog), this is what I have to deal with.

I don’t know about becoming a rich DJ.  Yet, I read about DJs making a thousand dollars per gig. These aren’t the producer people we hear on the radio, folks like David Guetta.  No, I’m referring to non-producers who DJ weddings and other events.

Still, no matter what happens, I shall remain persistent in becoming a rich nigger.  I know there’s something out there that can load some Benjamins in my bank account, a bank account currently at minus five dollars.

As I travel the road on becoming a rich nigger, should I allow resentment and jealousy to block my path?  Should I waste time worrying about player hating relatives and friends?  Fuck no.  I would be a damned fool doing that.

Mr. Pierre’s Hump Day

August 9, 2012

Because I usually DJ on Wednesday nights, I almost didn’t attend Mr. Pierre’s Hump Day, an event involving erotic spoken-word and burlesque dancing.  Yet, because my Wednesday night venue is temporally closed, I headed to The Peacock Room where Hump Day took place.

First came the readings.

Michael Pierre, the host.  Michael is the Vice President of Suzi Fox Fashion, a fashion line creating costumes for burlesque, fetish and theater.

Pappa D (Michael Pappademos):

Matt Kelland, a reader from the UK:

Michael introducing Anna Maya:

Anna’s Ferox shows presents burlesque entertainment in the Orlando area.

Deena Velvet:

Jesse Bradley. Currently, he runs a story telling series every Tuesday at ReUrban Think, located in Downtown Orlando.

Mark Parchman.  He read a story about pegging.  If you don’t know what that is, Google it.

Me.  I hadn’t read poetry in months. It felt good to read it again.

Photo by Anthony Bonilla

Reno Mussatto. He performed the drums as we read. Currently, he performs in The Bird Dog Bobby Band.

After the reading, two members of The Big Bang Boom Cabaret performed burlesque.

Gams Dee Vyne:

Kissa Von Addams:

In another room, Scarlet Lush and Deena Velvet performed fetish on two dudes.

The battery on my Canon Rebel died.  So, I used the camera setting on my Toshiba camcorder.

Tod Caviness. By reader’s choice in The Orlando Weekly, he was chosen as Orlando’s number one poet.  He read first that night.  Yet,  I didn’t like the picture I took of him reading.

For those of you believing fetish is just a Caucasian thing, think again.  Check out brotha man suckin’ some toes.

The Big Bang Boom Cabaret returned with another performance.

At least for the moment, my DJ venue closing temporarily may have been a blessing in disguise.  Oh well, I know I had fun.

Photo by Michael Pierre

One of Those Shitty Nights

July 8, 2012

Last night in Orlando’s Milk District sucked something awful.  Well, at least for me and another person it did.

First, I headed to Bull-N-Bush.  No real problem here. An open-mic Comedy event happened to a packed house.  I enjoyed the hell out of the comedians.  Yet, my main reason for attending was to support my friend, Trevor Fraser. Tonight was his first night performing stand-up. At a table, I sat with Trevor and other friends.

Because I had a gig at Sandwich Bar, I couldn’t wait for Trevor’s performance. So, I left.

At Sandwich Bar, I realized I lost my car keys.  First, I headed to the automobile. No keys. Then, I headed back to Bull-N-Bush.  There on my friends’ table sat my keys.

Sandwich Bar wasn’t ready for me to start yet. Last night, the bar hosted a huge house music event, a very successful one I was told.  At the moment, borrowed sound equipment was being loaded in a van.  Because Sandwich Bar wasn’t ready, I was able to watch Trevor perform.

After his performance, I headed back to Sandwich Bar.  After setting up my laptop, someone helped me with hooking up to the sound system. No fuckin’ sound came out. My RCA chord died on me.

Yet, after about a half-hour’s worth of frustration, another chord was found. By this time, folks who came to see me had already left.  Soon, the only people left in the bar were me and Ginn, the bartender.

Three, cute, Asian women showed up. All three looked be in their early or mid-twenties. At the moment of their entrance, I was playing an 80s, hip-hop song.  The next song was 90s soul.  When I finally played M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes” (a recent hit), that got a happy reaction from one of them. She started moving her shoulders to the beat. Yet, after they finished their food, the three women left as the song continued playing.

After that, the night continued to suck. No one else showed up. Ginn told me some of her friends promised to show. I saw the frustration in her face over this.

I told Ginn my views concerning friends and events.  When it comes to hosting events, friends are the last ones to rely on.  You appreciate the other things they do for you, like picking you up when your car broke-down on you. Or providing a shoulder to lean on when life kicks you in the ass time and time again. You appreciate those things and love your friends for it.  Yet, you never ever expect friends to show up at your events. It isn’t anything personal. Your event just may not hold their interest. After watching Trevor’s performance, none of my friends I left at Bull-N-Bush showed up at my Sandwich Bar gig. Yes, it annoyed the hell out of me. Still, what the fuck can you do?

Fed up with the no-attendance, Ginn closed the bar around one, an hour earlier than the usual closing time. I didn’t blame her.

Still, the way I see it, shit happens. You take your lumps and try again. If folks talk shit about your unsuccessful events (and they will), you ignore them.  At least, you attempted something.  Only thing some folks are good at is complaining all the time and following what everyone else is doing. Sometimes, you see these types writing for the local hipped press.

After fifteen years of hosting events, I’ve learned the tried and true. First, an event must be consistent. Either hold it every week or hold it on a particular day of the month. An event won’t have much success with having it the second Saturday this month and the fourth Saturday the next.  Second, an event must be planned and advertised weeks in advance. Part of this, I blame on myself.  Instead of holding out, I accept gigs at the last minute. By this time, folks already have plans for that evening. Third, you have to provide a huge want or need.  When I first hosted poetry readings years ago, there was a need for an uncensored, weekly, open-mic night that exclusively caters to poets. At the time, many didn’t exist in the Central Florida area, which made my nights more attractive.  Fourth, it’s all about location. Being in Downtown Orlando also contributed to my poetry night’s popularity. Hate or love it, if it isn’t in Downtown Orlando, many Central Florida people just won’t show. Fifth truth? Successful nights depend on the hosting establishment’s reputation. Sometimes, slow nights aren’t about you personally. The hosting establishment could be pissing patrons off: shitty service and/or overpriced drinks.

As I look over the five truths, I already see what may have contributed to our shitty Sandwich Bar night. Including accepting gigs at the last minute, other parts are my own damned fault. Instead of moaning and groaning about things sucking, the best thing to do is attempt fixing the mistakes and try again.