"I laugh until my head falls off..."

After spending the past year making snide comments in the paper, I had the pleasure of yelling them out, unfiltered, to the actual performer.

In other words, I got to heckle.

But first some background: This past Friday, I attended a joint comedy show venture between Students Organizing the Multiple Arts and the Full Ammo Improv. And while comedy is inherently hit or miss, I could't help but wish the balance wasn't so skewed at the HUB that night. The "hits" were just friendly jabs on the shoulder, while the misses made me wonder if the comics hadn't hit a bump and lost their punchlines while driving down Beaver Ave.

The show featured a mix of local talent, comics from Rutgers, and some people with national exposure, like comics featured on Comedy Central's Premium Blend and host Michael Showalter (Wet Hot American Summer, Stella.) But even Showalter faltered at times, opening his introduction with some d-level schlock that seemed like a desperate attempt of a failing comedian to engage the crowd.

Showalter: How are we doing, Penn State?

Crowd: (mild applause)

Showalter: I can't hear you!

Crowd: (slightly more enthusiastic)

Showalter: No, I really can't hear you. I have an inner ear disorder.

Crowd: (crickets pushing tumbleweed)

The rest of Showalter's stuff was much better, including his guilty pleasure playlist (any excuse to diss crappy music is fine by me) and a wonderfully surreal bit nitpicking on why Starbucks sells the movie Akeelah and the Bee--and only Akeelah and the Bee.

But aside from that, there were few highlights. Technical problems prevented the videos from being shown. There were at least four musicians comedians, only two of which were worth anything. Rob Paravonian probably had the best set though. His in-between song banter was better than most everyone else's stand-up, and his songs were funny and not repetitive. Best of all was a song about how he can't stop hearing Pachebel's "Canon" whereever he goes, which ends with a medley of popular songs using the same chords that had the crowd in hysterics.

But even that hit was not enough to counter the night's biggest miss. I don't know the guy's name, and even if I did, his performance was so bad that printing it in public would endanger his life (even moreso if a chunk of the crowd hadn't left two minutes into his set.) I can't repeat his jokes for two reasons:

1.) Everything that came out of his mouth was idiotic, racist, sexist, and offensive when it was intelligible (which half of it was not.)

2.) He didn't tell a single joke.

It's all a blur of bad taste, but I remember this psuedo-Dane Cook wannabe with a thick Brooklyn-Italian accent rambling on about going to the hood, getting beaten up for hitting on women of others races, and then yelling at girls at parties, or something. He went over his time limit twice. He lost at least a tenth of the crowd. His "comedy" was met with silence by everyone aside from one vocal girl in the front (clearly a plant, his girlfriend, or a planted girlfriend.)

Now, I understand comedy is a tough art. I respect anyone who gets up there and tries. There's constant crowd feedback, so the comedian is feeling it everytime a line doesn't hit. A lot of them were student comedians playing to a very large crowd so I cut them a lot of slack.

Until this clown yelled out "Yeah, you like that?"

To which someone else in the crowd replied "No!"

"Who said that?" the alleged comedian replied. "Hey, man, f--k you!"

At this point, fifteen minutes of enduring this guy had taken its toll. Without thinking, I yelled out "No, f--k YOU! Tell a f---ing joke!" I don't know if he heard me, though the amount of turned heads told me at least the ten rows in front of me did. But it still felt good to voice my displeasure at his total lack of talent. And if you're reading this, Mr. Comedian, please remember how many backs of heads you saw as you scared the crowd away. Please take my advice. Try telling a joke next time you're on stage.