Hi everyone, it’s me, Daniel, your mentor or enemy (those are the only two options). Here are some cool things I’ll be doing next week. Please come and see but not touch me.
On Tuesday, 10.29, your favorite internet comedian Michael Swaim will be hosting and performing in a new rap variety show under the guise of his rap alter ego, MS Werd. Cody Johnston will also be doing some comedy songs and so will Zach Sherwin, whom some of you may know as MC Mr. Napkins or as a writer/performer for Epic Rap Battles of History.
I’ll also be doing… something at the show. I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s stand-up; I didn’t want to do stand-up at this show because it’s a music show, and music is a “feel” thing and comedy is a “think” thing. I’m doing something that’s more like storytelling (with a few jokes). It’s different from anything I’ve done before because the focus is more on story than jokes-per-second, and I’m nervous but still excited about doing it.
Also I will be beatboxing. I am not nervous about it. Tickets are available in that link above.
It’s the third annual Comikaze Convention and I’m psyched to return. We always have a good time at this crazy parade of freaks. Here’s where you can find us:
11.1.13- After Hours Panel: Join me, Soren Bowie, Michael Swaim, Katie Willert, Cody Johnston and Jack O’Brien as we workshop an After Hours episode in real time! We’ll hang out, talk about the show, answer questions and do a live-reading of an unreleased episode. This is one of my favorite things to do. We’ll be in room 304ABC at 6:00pm for this thing.
11.3.13- Cracked Screening Room: Me, Abe Epperson, Michael Swaim, Katy Stoll, Adam Ganser and Cody Johnston are going to screen a bunch of videos (including some that haven’t been released!) and answer questions about jokes and videos. We’ll be in room 304ABC at 3:00pm for this.
Whenever we’re not on a panel, we’ll be wandering around or hanging at the Cracked booth, signing stuff and giving away free copies of our new book, The De-textbook (out October 29th!) and (big secret announcement) advanced copies of my book, How to Fight Presidents! I have 25 uncorrected copies to give away and I want you to have them! Because I love you! (Reminder: Please don’t touch me.)
This week, Ashly Burch, Keahu Kahuanui and Michael Swaim join me to play one of my very favorite RPG-in-a-box games: Betrayal at House on the Hill.
I’m a hugefan of Ashly’s work in Borderlands 2, and after I met her at Valve last year, I became a huge fan…
SWAIM HUNG OUT WITH WIL WHEATON!
Swaim made everybody play this game in Santa Barbara. Then I made everybody play it in New York. It’s great! Try it!
I love board games. Michael wouldn’t shut up about this freaking game and brought it to our super best friends Santa Barbara trip and stopped all of the fun best friends action to make us play it. I had one turn where I moved two spaces, then I was frozen for three rounds. The round after that someone stole the only thing I had (a parachute). Then I went to the bathroom and by the time I got back, the game had ended and I died (a giant bird came, picked up the house and flew away with it and only the people who had parachutes survived).
It’s a stupid fucking game and Michael’s a loser; please watch him on Wesley’s nerd show.
LOOK AT THAT YOU STUPID BASTARDS IT’S A BOOK WITH MY NAME ON IT. I freaking MADE IT with my HANDS and BRAINS and BUTT and it’s a thing that exists and my name is RIGHT ON THE FUCKING FRONT in BIG, HUGE-ASS LETTERS and NO ONE CAN TELL ME THAT IT ISN’T. Pre-order it if you’re not a useless coward.
Newsflash you fat ugly jerks I wrote a book DOUBLE-FUCKING-NEWSFLASH it’s mine not yours. Guuuuuun Fingerzzzzzz.
This is it, you despicable clods who aren’t me. Here we are. Here I am. Here is a book I made. I’ve been waiting a looooong time for this, so listen up, you stupid boners, because it’s on. It is on. There have been a lot of haters and doubters throughout my life and now I can finally say some things I’ve always always always wanted to say. Strap in, you swampy, store-brand versions of normal people, because this is going to get mother-goddamning real:
Dear Bullies Who Picked on Me in Middle and High School,
Hey, kid who stuck gum on the back of my neck at freshman orientation? Hey, all of you kids who made fun of me for how I dressed or how bad I was at sports? Hey, kid who one day for absolutely no reason wouldn’t stop pushing me, causing me to run home crying and ashamed? Hey, kid who gave me so much shit in Geometry class that I wanted to drop out of school? Guess what you greasy, unlovable chumps? I motherfucking forgive you. In retrospect, you were likely lashing out at me as a result of some issues you were having at home. I didn’t understand it at the time. You were angry at the world, you felt sad inside and the only way you could make sense of anything was by making other people also feel sad inside. You wanted to break nice things so everything matched, because the alternative was that you and you alonewere broken, and you didn’t/couldn’t face that. I can’t imagine what that must have been like, and I hope you found some peace and happiness and removed yourself from whatever situation drove you to bullying in school.
Dear Girls Who Didn’t Go Out on Dates/Make Out With Me in Middle and High School,
What’s that? I wasn’t your “type?” Oh, you didn’t want to “change our friendship?” I was “too weird?” Well fast-forward to the future and this “weird kid” has a bunch of books with his name on them so guess what, you prissy, stuck-up assbutts: I apologize for being sad and angry with you when you turned me down. You didn’t owe me anything and your refusal to go to Chili’s with me was neither an attempt on your part to intentionally hurt me nor was it justification for me to lump you together with all women into an invented category of “crazy bitches.” That was reductive and insulting. At the time it was much easier for me to pretend that all women were nuts than it was for me to look in the mirror and figure out what I could work on in the direction of making myself attractive to the kind of women I was attracted to. I created expectations for you and then reacted poorly when you didn’t conform to them, you worthless freaks, and to do life over again I would have shown you more respect.
Dear High School Teachers Who Gave Me a Hard Time,
Listen up, you shit sacks, you sacks that people put shit in; you didn’t want me to settle for doing work that was beneath my level of potential and I appreciate that very much because it has driven me to work harder all my life. I never would have even considered the fact that I might even HAVE potential if you hadn’t given me Ds for not reaching it. Between the lines of every page of this goddamn book with my fucking huge-dicked name on it is a 15-year-old kid who is still trying to write something that will make his foxy sophomore English teacher laugh and a 17-year-old kid trying to write something that is up to the high standards of his hard-assed, senior English teacher so she’ll finally get off his case. I hope this book is goddamn good enough for you, Ms. Crayton, but I’m going to pretend it isn’t so I have motivation to work harder on my next one you fucking maniac.