Yes, that is correct. I, the Infamous Lord Veltha, Prince of Paradox, Dastardly Deviant of Dis-Illusion, and maker of dangerous cheeses, have joined the likes of great stand-up comedians such as my idol Dr. Victor Von Doom (Orbital death rays don't always work their way into the economy of an Eastern European nation stuck in the middle ages, so you gotta do a little somethin' somethin' on the side. A good dictator understands this.)
This weekend was a great success in an already astounding line up of achievements by yours truly, and was kicked off by a victory over my eternal nemesis, Portland Oregon. This wasn't exactly THE victory over the city that frequently thwarts my desires for a fulfilling life, but I was able to claim high scores for Vampire Savior, Asteroids, and Bust-A-Move at Ground Kontrol if only because the scores are reset daily and nobody plays them. This was quickly followed up by a bacon maple bar at Voodoo Doughnut II and a trip back home to the local soda shop for some entertainment.
For roughly eight months (judging from the hastily browsed "Past Events" section on Facebook. I have no idea or care whether this is an accurate count. I have more important matters to attend to, like embedding stupid videos.) the Hilarious Six have been regaling audiences at Pop Culture every second Saturday of the month with their witticisms and songs. I have only had the pleasure of seeing them once before, and have since been thwarted by Fate in my attempts to not be too busy to come.
The evening contained commentary on viral videos, songs by Steven Lynch, re-dubs of "A Charlie Brown Christmas," and facts about horses I didn't even know could be compared to myself (I too can be measured with a hand, where each hand equals four inches.) Before the commencement of the festivities, I was asked by ally and TAD henchman, Kameron Foster, if I would like to participate on stage. I was also assured by Jason Nguyen that I could not possibly bomb as hard as he had in the past, which was perhaps the best possible ego pandering an overlord could have asked for given Jason's comedic aptitude.
I have since learned that KKK jokes do not go over as well for Vancouver audiences as jokes about masturbation. My leading sociologists are currently reviewing statistics now in order to conclude why exactly this is, but my tentative hypothesis is this: Vancouvians are perverts. The rest of my set involved various social shortcomings I face, including a story of bitter-sweet success from a previous blog posting.
I eventually had to be played off with music like an Oscar winner that simply won't shut up, and they couldn't have done it a moment too soon as I had managed to cover my entire life experience in the span of five minutes. I was rewarded with hugs from the other comedians and a strong burning sensation in my stomach similar to my gastric reaction to karaoke.
Stand-up comedy is the most productive form of self-deprecation, and when it burns it burns good. Time will tell if the infection can be cured.
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