i can commit

i can i can i can!!

so the Bay-Ron (that's me) has been on the road a lot the last few months. Going back and forth to NYC. this is the first FULL week I've had in the city in a few months. feels nice having some down time.

i'm doing a lot of research right now to write some new jokes. Does that makes sense? Any at all? I mean I'm a guy who refused to write research papers in high school. Refused! (hence my lack of knowing how to put ideas into words - even this parenthetical is flawed! i don't know where the punctuation goes!)

I failed an English class because the paper was a huge part of my semester grade. I didn't want to write it. I mean, come on, there were reruns of the Simpsons on! (ended a sentence with a prepostion) Now, when faced with making drunken people that don't really know how to deal with their own existence laugh, I'm like, "I best hits them books!" ...And by books I mean the internet.

--i watching a movie right now called Running Scared - here's the info from cable...
3 stars. '88. Two cool Chicago undercover officers try to put a drug lord permanently out of business. Starring Gregory Hines, Billy Crystal, Jimmy Smits, Steven Bauer, Darlanne Fluegel, Joe Pantoliano, Directed Peter Hyams-- Does it SOUND like there can ever be a better movie?

My relationship with stand up is tumultuous at best. Right now we're having some issues. I've been spending a lot of time with her lately, but that STILL doesn't seem like enough. I just want her to be good to me sometimes. I know she has been and will be, but right now it seems like she wants me dead.

Pilot Season

Its pilot season people! I, Baron Vaughn, actor, have been going out for a lot of audition as of late. With that comes reading a lot of scripts. Since I've started to write more and more of my own stuff the structure and tricks of a script are more apparent to me then they've ever been. Especially if I keep seeing the same thing used in the same way.

Me:
in every sciprt EVER
there's someone that's a high powered something
whether its a man or woman and they're trying to be a good parent
and they ALWAYS promise their son/daughter
i'll MAKE it to your recital
kid goes "you sure mom/dad?"
yes, yes i am.
why do all these kids base so much of how they love their parent on coming to recitals? don't they watch movies in movies? it never works out.
you fucking can't play the violin

why is it important to you for rich dad to see you suck

Josh: hahaha

Me: i'd be like please DON'T come
i don't know how to tune this thing
go make money
and buy me something so i'll feel better about how much i suck

Josh: haha

Me: Ice cream and a car can take away the pain of playing the theme to Jurassic Park off key

A New Line I've Been Using

I said it onstage for the first time the other night. Originally I thought it needed something else, but people get it. Well, at least the ones who are gonna get it get it. Everyone doesn't. But that's ok.

I know you all can tell by looking at me, I'm related to Thomas Jefferson.

Virginia

So i'm doing this little tour with American Eagle right now in which I've gone to a few colleges. Tonight I was at James Madison University in Harrisonburg, VA. I heard there's a Purina factory near here and it usually smells like rotted chicken. It didn't tonight. That's a good sign. Driving thru the snow on the way to Kent State tomorrow. Blog? I'm back. I guess.

Christmas Eve Eve/ Someone to Watch

I got a phone call about 11:30 on friday night.
"Baron?"
"Hey!"
"I'm in Vegas."

For those of you who do not know, Las Vegas is my hometown and I'm here for the holidays. I was chillin out maxin, relaxin all cool and all shooting some b-ball outside of the school when I got this call. A friend of mine, the lovely and talented Tracie Thoms was on her way back to Baltimore from LA with a connecting flight through Vegas. Her flight was 45 minutes late getting to Vegas thus she missed her connecting flight home. The next flight wasn't until 4:30 the next afternoon.

I stayed on the phone with Tracie while she narrated her journey on the shuttle from the airport to her "hotel." The Super 8 Motel. Now when you're in Vegas and you hear the word hotel, you might get a little excited. This was - how do you say - a kick to the balls. Yeah that seems to capture it. Needless to say, tracie was taken aback by how "real" everything was. Oh Indeed. That was the word she kept using "real."

She went into the casino next door to the Super 8, Ellis Island, which is a small place right behind the strip. Behind the Bally's And Caesar's Palace. Its a part of Vegas that lives in the shadows of what you see on TV and in the movies. For a reason. Tracie narrated her journey into Ellis Island continuously reiterating how "real" everything was. There were a lot of bikers in the bar singing karaoke. By the way, when I say bikers, the stereotypical image you had in your head? Worse than that. Tracie decided not to stay and sing her showstopping rendition of "Free Bird."

Tracie found something in her room that was very telling. They gave her a care package of pills that prevent hangovers called Chasers, eye drops to prevent red and skin conditioner. Not Soap. Skin Conditioner. Apparently it's a post shower cream to put on your skin. Yeah, it was confusing to me too. Its somewhere between soap and lotion. With those items the hotel is assuming a lot about why you're there.

"Hey come on in! So we got you some things for the reason you're probably here. That's right!! we got you Chasers to cure the hangover you'll get from your current drunken daze, drops for those weed soaked 4am eyes, and skin conditioner so your wife won't be able to detect the smell of that street skank whose bottom lip you're chewing on. Leave a tip!!"

Tracie is on the rise. She's a dynamic performer that you may have seen on TV in "Cold Case," and the hilarious but short lived "Wonderfalls." She's currently working on Quentin Tarantino's new movie, was in "The Devil Wears Prada," and played Joanne in the movie version of Rent. She's a focused individual on and off stage and can only be described as a force. I mean the woman went to Howard and Juilliard so she got the chops. Razor sharp.

So you 6 people that read this. Go and support Tracie.

Oh yeah...Check out this video. It's like a messed up Rat Pack. Its the brainchild of Trevor Moore from the Whitest Kids You Know.

Played by a Drumstick

OK OK OK. This is my favorite new commercial. Really people, watch commercials. You will learn so much about where our interests as a culture lie. Or at least you'll see what the "big wigs" think we care about which most of the time become true since we were told they were. (end diatribe). In a KFC commercial, a black family (you know they just looove their chicken) passes around a bucket at a dinner table. The youngest son sitting there overshadowed by his older brothers and parents watches them take out pieces of chicken and says to himself, "Don't take the drumstick." He says it again hoping that someone, anyone will leave him that most coveted part of the foul. Of course, he sees someone take out the 2nd drumstick and deflates with defeat. The bucket gets to him moments later and his mother pulls out (wait for it) a DRUMSTICK! She places it on the boy's plate and he exclaims with happiness "Another drumstick?!" He. Is. Dumbfounded. His mother smiles as if to say I got your back and says, "Special Bucket." Something like that. OH FRABJOUS DAY! CALLOO CALLAY! He chortled in his joy.

HA! My first thought was don't eat that! That came from a MUTANT chicken with 3 legs!! You were right! There should have only been 2 drumsticks, but no, that bucket is special. Knowing the practices of KFC, I'd be relieved if it was a 3 legged chicken. That would be the least altered thing they have on their farm/factory/slaughterhouse/laboratory. Most likely the leg came from a genetically altered chicken that was nothing but legs. Just a meaty legged deformity with limbs coming out all sides making it look like a feathered tetrahedron. No head. No wings. Just legs. Eyes embedded in one of the legs and a slit that works as a mouth. It makes only one sound and its not a cluck by any means. Just a shrill high pitched shriek. A sound akin to a bomb dropping in a cartoon, or a imprisoned banshee locked in a withered castle 2 miles north of Glasgow, or a shitty car with a shitty engine driving down a ghetto street at 3am making everyone sit right up in their bed thinking their time has come. When the noise of the "chicken" hits the ears of any other being it makes them think "My God! Hell is on earth and I am burning!"

After a week of rolling from limb to limb questioning its own existense after having realized that it looks nothing like any thing else around (they're all aberrations - veritable snowflakes of malformation), it sees something its never seen before. A man. Towering over the mutant in red boots and a red apron. Both of which did not come in the color of red. Oh no, they turned that color in time due to his line of work. And what's that in his hand? Its oh so shiny...and thin. CHOP. Suddenly the prism of drumsticks line up. After the leg that functioned as the head is separated and fed to the 5 winged chicken breast sloth which sweats sugar, the other pieces are shipped away to be served to the complacent public.

Its just a wild guess, but when the word Special is uttered, make sure to get a very clear definition.

and i'm back!!!

I'm at home in vegas right now for the holidays. Chillin out maxin relaxin all cool and all getting familiar with my new laptop that i'll never EVER lose. word

this is a section from a documntary a comedian i know named Steve Stover is making check it out

Well...

My laptop was stolen recently. On the road to getting a new one. Stay tuned.

Moment of Clarity #35

Its not that I like giving money to the homeless as much as it is that I like to see the guilt in the faces of the people that don't give.

Maybe...

if i went to bed sometimes before 2 in the morning, I wouldn't find the Sun such a God forsaken intrusion on my slumber. "Damn Helios!!! Tyra and I were naked in a pool of jello together! Now I'll never know the 3rd act of my dream!"

What I'm Watching Right Now...

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!!!

Live Life like is was Life Like

I saw an ad for the new Bose headphones on the subway today pictured to the left. These fit comfortably in your ear and have "life like sound." How appropriate. If I was walking through a crowded street, I could put on these headphones, turn my iPod to the track "Street Sounds" and have real "life like" sounds around me. So much more "life like" then the sounds that are like life. THANK GOD I've got an effective way to drown out everything around me and really plunge deeper into the self isolation that New York makes you crave with "life like" sound. Taking in the streets and people around me is just WAY TOO MUCH for me and my hearing. I've already mastered physically and emotionally avoiding any sort of situation. Now my dulling of my senses is almost complete. If only there were sunglasses that showed "life like" high definition digital pictures on them while I walked down the street, then I could take in almost nothing. I wouldn't have to see, hear, touch or feel anything around me. OH sounds like a dream come true. Hooray!! Yippee! Huzzah!

Now if there was only something I could do about smells.

Maine and back

I'm in Maine. Maine. Orono, Maine.

Its nice up here. The air is clean. I live in New York so its very odd for me to be in a place where the air does not always smell faintly like pee or worse. Also it was interesting to see that from Portland up to here every public restroom is bigger and cleaner than any NYC apartment under $5000 a month. Back in New York on Sunday.

Come to this show on Tuesday if you dare...

"Shades of Black"
Tuesday Nov 14 @9:30pm
Mo Pitkins - 34 Ave A between 3rd/2nd St
Elon James White, Michelle Buteau, Larry Bailey and Baron Vaughn do long sets.
Word.

I Voted...

I did my little part to loosen that diabolic stranglehold that conservatives so obviously have over New York. Now I wait and watch and the Senate results come in.

Moment of Clarity #34

Movies like the Ring and the Grudge have made me racist. I am now specifically afraid of small Japanese children.

a scene based on a sentence i overheard

WOMAN
you have my phone?

MAN
yeah. here.

WOMAN
why do you have my phone?

MAN
you gave it to me.

WOMAN
no i know i did. i was asking myself. can't remember why i gave it to you.

MAN
oh ok. you didn't tell me.

WOMAN
no i know. i said i was asking myself.

MAN
ok. so that was embarassing.

WOMAN
it was?

MAN
uh yes, kate. I proposed to you and you got up a walked out to have a cigarette. that's embarrasing. i'm embarassed.

WOMAN
sorry.

MAN
so i guess i jumped the gun or something, right?

WOMAN
no no no. i just...i don't know, i'm feeling a lot of pressure. everyone i know is getting married and my mom was asking me about you in that way last night.

MAN
in "that way"? what? you can't even say it?

WOMAN
yeah you know what i mean

MAN
i know i love you. haha. yes that came out in a cilche' moment, but fuck. i'm sure everyone is in there wondering what the hell is going on. we're out here on the street. its 3 am and i'm now uncertain on the future of this relationship.

WOMAN
look. i just need to think ok.

MAN
no i don't think you do. you're going to overthink it until you have no more feelings for me. just...whatever. i'm going back inside. you coming?

WOMAN
no.

MAN.
huh. great. goodnight then.

WOMAN
hey...

MAN
no i don't want to hear it. goodnight.

This post was written at 3am

What a long winding journey i had to get home last night. After doing "Crash Test" I was suppoed to hang out at a bar with A. Ansari, N. Kroll, J. Mulaney, C. Peretti and J. Carlos. It was like one of my dreams when I was in 3rd grade: I turned around and everyone was gone. I had no clue where they went. I just knew the name of the bar: "Half King." My phone was dead, so I couldn't call anyone or receive info that was being transmitted to me. So I walked around just looking for the place before remembering a bar at which people from the UCB hang out. I thought "that must be the place" and headed over there to find out it was not the right place. It had a different name. I went in and asked for the phonebook. I found the address for "The Half King" and made my way over there. By the time I got there everyone was gone. Of course they're gone, I was 30 min late.

I walked down 23rd St. from 10th Ave to Broadway. Something is wrong with the train there so I walked down to Union Square and waited waited waited. I finally got on the train and for some reason the air conditioner was blasting cold air. Ridiculous. Its cold fall outside, but it was winter in that car. Eventually we slowly made our way through the system. A homeless man complete with a cart full of bags and a hunchback mades his way onto the car. Somehow I ended up being the person closest to him. This next sentence is not an exaggeration. He smelled so bad my balls began to hurt. That doesn't even make sense. I got a whiff of his odor and my balls began to ache. A pulsing ache that i'd never experienced. I wasn't sitting strangely nor did I have a pencil mistakenly jabbing into my scrotum. Just the odor of pee and failed aspirations. Maybe the smell was so bad that my sperm were trying to retreat from it. It was the sperm version of Chernobyl or Pompeii and they were all trying to escape, but, of course, there is no escaping my testes.

I think I might have a serious sleeping problem.

Randomness

There's something about seeing someone that's very "alternative" doing something normal. Its just such a blunt object taken to my sense of reality. It doesn't add up in the equation of my implicit association with them. Sure you've got red leather pants, a original Rush World Tour T-shirt, and a Mohawk, but you're on crutches. Sure you've got a eagle tattoo with the face of Lincoln across your chest, but you're taking out the trash. Sure you've got a tattoo of every Pink Floyd album cover all the way around your neck and a nose ring that has a chain attached to your nipples, but you're pushing a baby carriage. And your wife looks like a manager at an Arts and Crafts store in Duluth. Its just disorienting.

What was it like to dream before TV and Movies? The perspective of those mediums have become so ingrained in our heads people dream and imagine thing as if they were a movie. But before those mediums people had only first person perspective. Maybe also the occasional look in a mirror. The average dream now consists of a dozens images and ways of experiencing those images that you'd find in any movie. Its very common to dream that you're not inside your own body. And their are shots that are framed like movie scenes (at least in my dreams). I assume when there was less distraction, the average dream was "My my my I was standing on a hill looking into a river. It was the Most Chilling and Introspective dream I've ever had." Is there anyone out there that just dream simple things? I've been having a lot of dreams that are only about things that are happening. Dreaming about sleeping. Ugh. I must be very disturbed.

The Greatest Sales Pitch Ever

I'm tired of being nice to people. I want to start being a dick. Cuz then when people are shitty back to me they have a reason. Also there's too much responsibility in being nice. Once you've been nice to people they expect you to do shit. Like say hello, or come to their birthday parties, or buy them a meal when they're broke cuz you "don't want to see them starve." When you're an asshole and you don't go to someone's birthday party, no prob, you're just being consistent.

On my way to my show which used to be in the East Village, I witnessed the best sales pitch ever. I was being pitched. I was walking down East 13th St. while little kids played in the street with some sort of inflatable ball. I was texting or looking at the time or just not paying attention to my path. A kid yelled in the street so I turned to see the commotion. I realized again that there's no difference in the scream of "I'm having a great time" and "I've just had my leg run over and broken by a Dodge Ram" to a child. When I turned back around I was in front of a woman sitting at a table with a stern face. I looked to the side and the sign said Psychic. She pointed at me and with an intense calm said the words "You." That's it. "You." The first thought I had was "Oh man. She's know some shit!" I almost talked to her but thought better of it and walked away.

There's always a fear for me in going to psychics. I'm afraid the first thing they'll say is "you masturbate a lot."

And even if they don't think that first, the whole time I'll be trying to not think about them telling me I masturbate which of course will make me think about it harder until the word "Masturbate" is just repeating loudly in my head. The psychic will sense the word and say "Masturbate?" I will then throw over the table and scream "How dare you, sir?! HOW DARE YOU?" Which is weird because it'll be a woman. She'll say "Sir? I am no man! Ah! You've ruined my vase!" But of course she'll have said it "vahz." I'll be like "vahz? vahz? It's fucking vayss you ass!" She'll say "No one insults Madame Beniot!" Suddenly I'll be cursed by the shemale psychic and all because I succumbed to the greatest sales pitch I've ever known.

Moments of Clarity #32 and #33

The problem with movies about Martial Arts and Breakdancing is I walk out of them thinking I can do both.

My least favorite response from a girl to the question "Why do you find him sexy?" is "He reminds me of my dad."