Casa de Ha-haitus X 2: The Final Bead of Sweat

CANCELED AGAIN. No Casa de HOT-HOT? Fhat the wuck?!

Awright. So our venue, the A/C-less Sweat Records, is now so caliente that I can't even throw a "this place is effing hot!"-themed event there! Talk about spicy. I mean, go there and buy awesome loot... just don't pack the room with people and hot lights and expect anything other than a Turkish steam orgy.

Hell, I think jokes are funnier with a touch of heat stroke. It's like an instant bong rip! But alas, we live in such a litigious time, there would be several lawsuits for laugh-murder.

So what can we do? We can check out some other Miami comedy spots! Among them:

• Coral gable's Laughs on the Mile @ John Martin's Pub. Every Thursday @ 10pm. Free.
• Sunny Isles' Comedy Live! @ Kitchen 305. Every month. Free.
• Kendall's LaughBar @ the Sandbar. 2nd Monday of the month. Free.
• Midtown's Wanted Wednesdays @ The Lost and Found Saloon. Every 1st Wed. Free.
• Up north in Boca, the Funky Buddha every Wed. Free.

More are popping up every day... and of course there is always the Improv. So turn off Comedy Central and go see the real deal!

Also, we can party to support Sweat Records' last push to get a dope new A/C unit! There's a huge party and none-other than Iggy Pop will be there! Poppin' and lockin' with the Pop! It's August 22 @ the Awarehouse, a very cool venue where I once had the pleasure of doing stand-up at a fetish art show. August 22 - http://sweatrecordsmiami.com/2009/08/05/iggy-pop-helps-the-shop/

And we can definitely stop making "I guess that's why they call it SWEAT Records!" jokes. You think we ain't heard that ish? Fo rilz! ... As for Casa, it should be back next month.

Hotter in the shade,
Daniel

It's so hot that Mr. Sass-Pants cannot concentrate! Forgetting your material is uncomfortable for everyones.

Eulogy for a Hamster, RIP Baracky

If you haven't already heard, let me break the news. Baracky, one of me and my girlfriend's two hamsters, was found dead in his cubby hole Saturday. :'( At the request of his surviving twin brother Obamster, I'd like to take some time to honor this fine specimen of rodentia with a humble eulogy, which I will deliver now via blog entry. Please be seated.



Baracky. You were exceptionally cute and cuddly, even for a hamster. Your temperament said you were excited to be here, doing things the way only you could. With your velvety fur of brown and white, you lived up to your namesake. Baracky -- a whitish-brownish hamster for a whitish-brownish nation. And even when you would nip-nip-nip at my fingertip-tip-tip... it was okay. Can I get mad at you? Can the ocean wave goodnight? Maybe I should have apologized for invading your space with carelessness, for being unable to take seriously so cute a hamster chirping with such gusto! Chirps of gusto...

My friends, if you knew our sweet Baracky then you knew he loved his hamster ball. He would explore vast terrain of floorboards and doorways, cruising in his shiny green hamster hoopty. Clunk! Clunk! Clunk! Are you stuck under the end table? I want to help you but I know you want to do it on your own. It may have been minutes, but did you give up? Did you just sit around eating the sunflower seeds stored in your cheeks like your fat, cute but lazy brother?

No. Because Baracky, you were a hamster with a classic refinement and charisma rarely found in this generation's ham-ham.

I was looking forward to living with you and giving you more attention. Getting to know you. But I can't feel bad about the times we could have had knowing that the times we did have were so sublime. They were pure and genuine, like the working man's light beer. That simile also works in that there are millions of you that are all basically the same... but hey, you were served in a big frosty mug by a great set of cans. I mean, look at that hamster pad, your hamster digs, you had it good, dude.



You were provided the finest blends of nuts and grains, absorbent and eco-friendly bedding, and a rich selection of chewable thingies. You explored a constantly-changing Lego meets iPod hamster utopia, with not one but TWO WHEELS to run on. All of this infused with the kind caretaking of a beautiful ham-loving-lady (and sometimes her ham-loving-lover).

To feel your teeny tiny hamster feet scurrying up and down our arms, we will not forget. You live on in us, and the vibrations of your life resonate throughout the universe outside of time. You will be celebrated and given the funeral of a military Kaiser.

Thank you for listening/reading. If anyone would like to say something, please share your kind words. I'll be Googling if it's safe to flush a hamster.

Casa de Birthday!

Casa de Birthday

According the way our planet rotates, the world is in a similar state to many rotations ago, when I sprung forth from some private parts.

Daaaaaaaaamn son! I'm turning the 24. Sure, why not? I'm not going to be one of those people who lament their age no matter how old. That grass looks greener due to my poor eyesight.

24 is a cool age, sure. It carries more experience than the early 20s but also lets people know you've had time to figure out what kind of asshole you want to be.

What if every year of my life was an hour in a day? I would be asleep until 6am, then bitterly awoken to go to school. Once there, I find school isn't so bad except for most of the classes and people. It would be a long day at school, letting out at 6pm! Time to live life! Except somehow during my last class of the day I fumble my way into an after-school tutoring program. It's another four hours, but it's cool because I get to learn whatever I want. Like learning to pretend I want to do one thing for the rest of my life! I'm bored by 9 o'clock with an hour to go, so I search the internet and read the Wikipedia entries on stand-up comedy and marijuana. That explains what I do at 10pm, for the next two hours.

So I've been learning. Learning what a comedian is, and what it means to walk down that path. It means living a life both in an out of the rat race, forgoing security and stability for opportunity and freedom. It means constant reminders of the low, low chances of success. And mostly, it means having many annoying and awkward conversation with people about being a comedian.

"HEY! WHO'S YOUR FAVORITE COMEDIAN LET ME TELL YOU MINE IT IS (CRAPPY COMEDIAN)! THEY ARE SO LOLZ! YOU CAN USE THIS IN YOUR ACT!!"

No.

No I can't.



See Miami's most eclective stand-up show here in Miami, and celebrate this life that I turned out to be at:
CASA DE HAHA is June 16th, Tuesday, 9pm, @ Sweat Records.