Tag: portland
How To Drive To Portland

Dear Portland;
Here’s how it works. As you pass through the Sunset tunnel headed east from Beaverton into Portland, you may, IF YOU MUST, honk one brief, cheerful honk. Honk to let the world know that you’ve dusted off your best city-slickin’ coveralls and you’re coming into town for tapas and heroin.
Beep!
That’s it.
You do NOT honk repeatedly, nor lean on the horn. That is not cute or cheerful. It is making the other Subaru drivers jump out of their skins.
And you DON’T do it whilst traveling back westward. You just…don’t. It’s not done.
Thank you for listening.
My Prize-Winning Set
This is the set that nearly took first place in Helium Comedy’s annual Portland’s Funniest Person contest. It was shot by Randall Lawrence. Many thanks to everyone who came out to support me. It meant a lot. Thanks also to Suzette Smith for writing it up for the Portland Mercury, that was cool also.
The Agony And The Ecstasy- Portland’s Funniest Person Contest

Every year, Helium cancels its open mics for four months to concentrate on Portland’s Funniest Person. In that contest, 250 people are brutally whittled down to 8, and then someone wins, usually a white guy.
Preliminaries:
There are roughly one thousand preliminary competitions. They are judged by the audience, so it’s super important to hype up your friends and family and get them to come. I didn’t understand that the first time I competed in 2010, and never made it out of the first round.
I mean, that’s OK. Most people don’t.
The first round was 11 people to get to 3, which felt very do-able. The first round has people in it who’ve never been onstage before, people who have only done comedy on the back of a dog cart, etc. once I had my comp list filled, I was pretty secure in my ability to move on- however, some very funny people I like and respect didn’t seem to.
This show was the most fun, because Arlo Weierhauser and Adam Pasi roasted EVERY participant. The weird racist guy, the lady with the notes, and me, who they said looked like Wednesday Adams after her third divorce. Clearing this round, I was in the top 27% of participants.

SEMI-FINALS:
The next show felt intense- there were several comics I really liked on my show, and we were cutting from 14 people to 2. Me and Jeremiah Watkins made it through, and were now in the top 3% of everyone in the comp. Kyle Kinane greeted me warmly at the end, and that was nice. I’ve always really dug Kyle’s comedy and he is a mensch to boot.
The finals didn’t worry me as much as the semi-finals, although the cutoff is the same- somehow, 14 to 2 felt harder than 8 to 1. This is probably because I am bad at math.
I liked my semi-finals set tho, here it is:
FINALS:
The morning of the finals, I woke up and thought, well, whatever happens, it’ll be over soon. I had a nice day, had lunch with a friend and spent the afternoon preparing my finals set.
I turned up and sat in a green room, meeting the comics I had not worked with yet.
Then, the show started, and went by very quickly, and then it was me, and I had a good set. Everything went exactly how I wanted it to go, and that’s all I could do. For a while, I thought, well, I’ve won this thing. Nobody had a better set than me, but that’s not entirely how it works. Our hard-working host, Ben Harkins, did a stall set so the tallies could be completed.
Then, we all filed out onstage, and I got the #2 spot behind Jordan Casner, who is a nice fella and all around good guy. I was now in the top .8 of all participants.
I immediately started scheming for what I would do next year, although there is probably not a good reason to compete next year, except for REVENGE. Congrats to Brent Lowry, who also placed, and congrats to everyone who got through to finals. Let’s all go to sleep.
19th Anniversary

May 29th, 2025- it’s 19 years since my first open mic at the Boiler Room, under the kind tutelage of Kevin Michael-Moore. I met Richard Bain (rip) that night, and Kyle Harbert, and Jimmy Newstetter. They were all my close friends, who shaped my comedy.
Six years later, I moved to LA.
I did a couple thousand shows. I met thousands of people. Some of them became my friends.
I learned that when you go to a party, you have to get other people to take pictures with you. Otherwise, you’re going to see Instagram posts that make you feel like nobody likes you.
I learned that it was way better to go to shows and say hi to bookers than it was to do open mics. LA open mics are the worst places in the world, including El Salvador prisons. There’s fifty dudes in dirty hoodies who want to tell their rape jokes and hit their vapes. You won’t see any of them ever again.
I learned that you have to ask to be on shows. You have to work hard. You have to have good photos. I got good advice. I got bad advice. I got to work with my heroes. I developed something like discipline. I got an agent. I got a manager. I booked a couple small things.
But I wasn’t really getting what I wanted, which was more visibility in comedy. I wanted to do stuff in Hollywood that would make it easier to book a headlining gig in Peoria, IL.
I did more shows. Gradually, I did better shows. I got asked to do stuff.
And then, doing comedy and working full time, I was too busy to go out on auditions, so I stopped.
There is no reason to live in LA if you’re not auditioning, or sending packets for the last three writing jobs. It was time to leave.
I realized that what was keeping me there was the judgement I had for other people who had left.
Here’s what I learned. LA can get you acting gigs. All kinds. All kinds of commercials, which only really lead to other commercials, despite what the agencies tell you. Keep in mind that they make their money from you booking commercials.
I learned that the noise and busy-ness and the pecking order of comedy shows will distract you from the fact that it’s a hamster wheel. You’re trying to impress other comics.
The relationship between acting gigs and comedy goes the other way- doing more acting gets you more comedy spots. Doing comedy doesn’t usually lead to anything but doing more comedy.
Is there NO-ONE who has EVER gotten a career-changing job from a bar gig? Probably there is someone. Are you going to do a show with someone who’ll take you on the road? Maybe! And then you can come back and tell everyone about it. If someone famous really likes you and works with you consistently, that can make your career, absolutely.
If you want to act or write for other people or make TV or movies, LA is definitely the move. But it doesn’t really make a stand up comedian famous anymore, if it ever did.
The clubs will have you down to do their mics and eat food and drink drinks and pay tabs. if you’re consistently good, you will have the opportunity to host an 11:45 PM show in the main room on a Tuesday every other month. That feels really cool. But comedy clubs don’t really make comics. They book comics who are already made. When will your name get on the wall? When the 500 people more famous than you die.
Everyone wants to find the button to press that will create their career and find their audience, but that’s something we need to do on our own. Hollywood doesn’t, and increasingly, can’t do that for you.
Hollywood got a good look at me and said, hey, thanks for coming.
So I’m glad to be back, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to perform and continue to grow. I joke about being a failure onstage, but I’m not a failure. I just didn’t book TV or writing work. And that’s really ok! I mostly just wanted to do comedy, which I am, and I do, and I can, and I will.
Kickstand with Ryan Conner!

Next Friday at Kickstand, I’m opening for my friend Ryan Conner! He’s super funny and has been on late night television, and I’m super funny! Come on out and bask in our respective glory- tickets here!
I Fell Out Of Love with Los Angeles

LA, I love you so much. I didn’t think I would. I’ve had some great shows, attended some great rockshows, been out dancing, eaten all the veg@n foods, met some incredible artists and been in the room with many of my heroes. But twelve years later, tides have turned, and there’s a smell of lavender and pine needles in the air, and I gotta go back to Portland. But I’ll be back sometimes! Whenever Jarvis Cocker is in town, when goth festivals are in the offing, when a friend wants me to feature for them, I’ll return to you.

