Ha ha ha! Comedy Eric Schneider, Comedian

I’m headed to Sin City on Sunday to attend the non-stop party frenzy that is the RE/MAX International Conference. Five days of pure torture and an endless barrage of “I had this one client…” stories. This is truly a case of “Whatever happens in Vegas I wish would happen in Vegas without me.”

The good news is… well there is no good news, but I have a theory if I continually say the phrase “the good news is…” sooner or later I’ll think of something to say after it. I don’t believe this technique is published in any self help book nor do I know if it really works, but feel free to give it a try.

Let me ask you a question… if someone gave you $10 to put in a slot machine on their behalf, and you won, would you give them money, or would you pretend that their $10 was your $10, and your $10 was their $10 which you just lost in the machine 5 minutes ago?

Now I’m not saying what I would do, but if anyone wants me to drop $10 in a slot machine on their behalf while I’m in Vegas, let me know. Since I’m leaving on Sunday, I won’t have time to pick up the money, so just send me a message that you want to play, I’ll float you the $10, and if I lose, you’ll owe me $10 when I get back. OK? Good!

Last order of business: The Women’s PAC-10 Tournament starts on March 3rd followed by the NCAA Tourney. I need everyone to send out good ju-ju for the Lady Sun Devils. Maybe some of you gothic, witchy, weirdo types can make voodoo dolls of the other teams and stick them with pins n’ stuff. I’ll leave it up to you to decide how you want to support the team.

That’s all I have for now. Later, taters!

I’ve been such a hermit lately, I may have forgotten what’s it’s like to go outside. So yesterday, I decided to spend the whole day away from the ole apartamento. I woke up early, scrubbed the body parts, put on some clean clothes and headed down to the Tempe Lobster Festival. Can you think of a better way to spend a beautiful Saturday afternoon than to stroll around in the fresh air and the sunshine, listening to some live music, and eating tons of lobster? Neither can I.

I want you to close your eyes. I want you to imagine yourself at a Lobster Festival. What do you see? Do you see countless numbers of vendors offering up a cornucopia of delicious lobster recipes? Do you see yourself wanting to try just one more variety of lobster before declaring yourself officially stuffed? Can you feel yourself being overwhelmed by the sights and smells of great food and good music and people enjoying life? Now I want you to picture the opposite of all that. Welcome to the Tempe Lobster Festival.

Tempe Town Lake seems to be in a constant state of construction, so there was no convenient parking nearby. Instead they directed me over to a dirt lot nearly a mile away from the event, and charged me $5 to park. I then had to walk all the way back where they charged me an additional $10 to gain admission to the festival. As I passed through the entrance, I was corralled through a narrow, closed off labyrinth lined with carnival “games of skill” and various vendors where I was accosted by carnies and sales people all goading me step right up to shoot the basketball, knock down the pins, buy the timeshare, and sign up for the credit card.

After being forced to say “no thank you” repeatedly to a dozen or so persistent jackasses, I finally arrived at a wide open fairground, only to find out that there was one, yes ONLY ONE vendor selling lobster. One vendor, serving one lobster per person, one way. Boiled. They charged $18 for a small lobster and $40 for a large. If you didn’t intend on spending that much all at once on a lobster dinner or thought that you might browse around and steal some free samples, guess what? No lobster for you!

Sure I could have had a $6 cheese crisp on an 8″ tortilla, or even an $8 “Colossal” Hot Dog, which I could have garnished over by the condiment table which was completely surrounded by bees, but I wasn’t at the The Tempe Cheese Crisp and Hot Dog Festival. I was at the Lobster Festival, and I was going to eat some lobster God damn it!!!. I had been thinking about lobster all week and my brain and body were fully prepared to experience delicious lobsterrific bliss. No feelings of disappointment nor a $40 price tag was going to stop me from having it!

So, I made my way over to the lobster ticket booth and bought a voucher for the large lobster dinner. While I was waiting on line to get my food, I noticed a crowd of people all gathering around this one area. I left my place in line to check it out, and realized they had set up a lobster prep area, where, after you received your lobster, you could go and have some guys take the shell off for you. I also happened to noticed that there were flies everywhere. They were swarming all over the cutting boards, on the lobsters, around the garbage cans, and on the people waiting in line. Finally, I noticed one of the prep guys sweating heavily while he was working over a plate of lobster. Sweat was dripping off his face and onto the food and the cutting board. Although he was wearing gloves, he used his gloved hands to wipe the sweat from his brow and chin, and then went right back to touching the lobster.

I had seen enough.

I didn’t even bother getting back in line, and headed straight for the exit. I stopped a middle aged couple on my way out to give them my $40 lobster coupon. It took longer for me to convince them that I wasn’t trying to scam them or have a threesome with them than it did for me to get the ticket in the first place. Eventually, they reluctantly took the ticket. Bunch of ingrates!

The day wasn’t all bad. I ended up having a very nice lunch across the street at Monti’s La Casa Vieja, which, in Spanish, means Fuck the Lobster Festival.

After lunch, I hopped, skipped, and jumped over to Wells Fargo Arena to watch my beautiful Lady Sun Devils kick the uterus out of Missouri. They’re now 2-0 after beating #16 Vanderbilt the night before. Yes, I know!!! I’m very excited too!!!

So childrens… that’s all for me today. I hope you all had fun weekends. Until next time.

Please bow your heads.

Brothers and sisters, let us pray. Dear Lord, please forgive the New York Yankees who, yet again, failed to show up for the post season. Let your glorious light shine down upon them to reveal the error of their ways, and may they receive your grace and guidance so they may come back next season stronger than ever. Please look after Bernie Williams as he begins his journey into retirement and, if your divine holiness deems us worthy of your consideration, please let Bubba Crosby be traded to Kansas City. Amen.

And that reminds me, since the Yankee’s season is over, I’ll let you know the “mystery” song I posted for the Name That Tune game is the New York Yankee Theme Song, “Here Come the Yankees” composed by Bob Bundin and Lou Stallman in 1967.

Like the Yankees, the baseball season is over for me as well, as I will not watch another baseball game until next Spring. The World Series without the Yankees is like a sandwich without the tangy zip of Miracle Whip. Soooooo, it’s on to my next sporting passion: Arizona State University Women’s Basketball!!!

Please control your groans and gasps of disbelief, and save your played out commentary about the validity of women’s sports, because I’ve heard it all before. The women play just as hard as the men, and often with more heart. I love the game, and I will continue to support it even if I am the only non-lesbian paying money to watch it. As a matter of fact, I have two season tickets in row number one behind the scorer’s table at half court.

The only problem is I usually have no one to go with. If any of you can pass my 47 point interview process, show a genuine interest in the game, have never cut off a man’s penis and flung it out a car window, don’t expect me to put out, and can tolerate my company for a few hours, feel free to let me know. Maybe one of you can join me court-side.

Go Devils!