A run for your money

Today felt like any other Monday.  I woke up around 11:30.  I had a bowl of cereal. I watched the news.  I surfed the internet.  I went for my daily run. That's when things got... interesting.  

Like I said, it was a pretty normal day.  I was jogging my normal route making great time.  Beats were blasting, my stride was strong and my breathing was controlled.  I was feeling good.  As I push through the half way mark of my route I look down and spot something out of the ordinary.  A discarded wallet!  I immediately stop running to investigate the contents of this mystery wallet.  And wouldn't ya know it, it's STUFFED with cash!  So much so, that the wallet itself couldn't fold in all the way.  STUFFED with cash! 

Hmmm, what's Plan "B" to do????  Should I leave the wallet where I found it in hopes that this person might come back to look for it???  Should I pocket the cash and leave the wallet??  I decided that I'd take the wallet with me for "safe keeping"and I'd make my decision after I gave a thorough count of the money. 

The rest of my jog went like a breeze.  My mind was focused on the dilemma of finding a cash filled wallet and not on the pain of running.  "Is this a sign from God", I thought?   "A gift perhaps for his favorite struggling comedian.  Surely he knows my plight, it must be!  That's it! I'll keep the money!  But wait... what if it's a test of my moral character?  Taking the money could lead to a disastrous wave of bad karma, that's the last thing I need!  No, I'll return the wallet because its the right thing to do!"  

Finally I get back to my workout center and start to riffle through the cash.  First count totaled $680 and was confirmed after my second count.  I couldn't believe it!  I checked the rest of the wallet.  Driver's license, credit card, BJ's card, some bullshit papers, 2010 NYC PBA cards, a card with contact info.  

This type of situation isn't new to Plan "B".  A few years ago I was in Atlantic City with a bunch of goons and found $800 in a bank envelope on the floor of the Tropicana.  I kept that shit and BALLED OUT in AC!!  Another time I was getting food at a Taco Bell in NYC and a person forgot $200 on the counter.  I bagged that shit too!  I never gave a fuck about the person who's money it was.  I need money!  If someone is careless enough to lose/misplace/forget their money in a public place then they deserve to get GOT. That's just the natural order of life! 

But this wasn't the same kind of situation.  In those situations the money was faceless.  I didn't know who's it was or where it came from and I didn't care.  This time the money had an identity.  A latino man named Erik. Who was Erik? A stupid muthafucker who dropped a wallet with $700 on my running route, that's who!   Maybe he was some jackass mexican landscaper who just got money from a client and was on his way to give it to his boss but the wallet fell out of his pocket.  There was no way of knowing.  I was going to have to make a decision.  

I placed a phone call to a number that was listed on the contact information card inside the wallet.  Erik picked up the call and I told him that I found his wallet.  He sounded relieved.   We agreed to meet at his house because it was close to where I lived and I knew the area. 

As I pulled up to the address I immediately began to regret my decision.  Erik had a nice home on a quiet street with a small sail boat in the drive way and a great view of the Hudson river.  Definitely not the type of house where you'd find a mexican day laborer and 14 of his family members living in.   "OK, whatever" I thought.  A minute later Erik pulls into the drive way in a shinny new Lexus.  "you gotta be fucking kidding me!".   He greets me with a hand shake and sings my praises for returning his wallet.  I tell him through my forced smile that he's lucky and next time he should be more careful with his cash.  Turns out he owns a successful restaurant in town! "Grrrreat!!" He offers me some cash as a reward for finding his wallet.  I declined his offer, "Erik, if I wanted your money I would have taken the $680 in the wallet."  Again, he thanked me and I got into my car.  As I'm about to drive off he comes to my window and tells me that any time I go to his restaurant he'd 'take care' of me.  He also insisted I take a 50 for my trouble.  I couldn't even look at this guy.  I just took it and bounced.

Yes I returned the money and yes I feel like an asshole.  How do you give away $700!?!?  Especially when you have no job!?  This guy was no mexican landscaper struggling to feed his family! He was an affluent latino restauranteur who drives a lexus!  I'm the struggling mexican!!!

Comedy Swag

..., Oh HI!  Plan "B" here with another super blog update!  I'm sitting on my deck on a beautiful afternoon watching TV.  That's the ultimate goal for anyone in life, outside TV.   Its like you can be lazy but also feel like you're getting something accomplished because you're not indoors.

It was an interesting week of standup comedy for The Plan.   Comedy swag was at an all time low after a BRUTAL set the week prior.  I don't know what happened but I just went Michael Richards on a majority black crowd.  It started with a stereotype and ended with an N bomb!  Wow.  I had a set list ready to go but it was unusual that there were so many black people in the crowd so I made a reference to it and it DIED.  I got boo'd!  Boo'd!  I've been doing standup comedy for 7 years and i've NEVER been boo'd.  Amazing right?  Once that happened I got thrown off, stunned, like a boxer who gets caught with stiff jab.  I staggered around and went into 'heel' mode, where I just want to be the villain and make everyone hate me.  And they did, deservedly so...


{how perfect is this pic??}

Bombing like that is equivalent to being a hiker who gets stranded in the woods because he fell off a cliff and broke his leg.  The break is so bad that bone is piercing through the skin.  At first you're disoriented, like 'what happened?',  then you become aware to the fact that you're injured but you don't know how bad it is yet.  The adrenaline is flowing so you cant really feel the pain... but when it starts to dull and you look down at your mangled leg the pain is INTENSE!  It sucks.

Bombing is a part of comedy and you'd be a fool to think that you can ever avoid it.  The only way to get over the feeling of having a dog shit set is by getting up and having a good set.  or a mediocre set.  or a set where you don't get boo'd.  The point is, dont give up... but if you're going on stage alot and getting boo'd, give up.


So my comedy swag isnt at full capacity but its crawling out of the basement.

Plan "B" would like to take a moment out right know to acknowledge another fellow freedom fighting comic.  A like minded gent who is anti NWO.  My dog Johnny T!   The past few weeks when I see Johnny T at the Village Lantern after our show, a few comics get into heated NWO conversations that gets loud and animated!  It's awesome.  If you think Plan "B" is on some next shit then Johnny T might scare you!  He's like Plan "B" but actually backs up his rhetoric.  For instance he's going to a rally near Columbia to protest Obama's citizenship, I'm going to the driving range!

WTF?????????

Smells like a blog

Whatup.

Plan "B" laid up on a friday night with the crazy nasal congestion.  I don't know if it's a 'cold' or allergies but my snotbox clogged up!  It's such a pain in the ass.  Superman has kryptonite, Werewolves have silver bullets, and Plan "B" has nasal congestion.  Not being able to breath through my nose is maddening!!  It frustrates me so much!  There's nothing I enjoy more, then a good deep breath of fresh air... aaaahhhhhh....Shout out to the city of San Francisco, some of the best 02 (oxygen) these lungs have ever tasted! 

I can remember have nostril issues since back in the day.  I got hooked on nasal spray early.  It was clear that remedies like Vicks, or humidifiers were useless against this impenetrable wall of mucus... so I stepped to the spray.  Started out with Neosenepheren original, then moved up to the longer lasting 6 hour spray, finally graduated to the 12 hour Afrin where I remain to this day.  My nose is mad hollowed out from all the years of that shit and I know its not good for me but I NEED IT!!  I'm a fiend for that nasal spray when the time comes.... I'll suck yo dick! 

I feel like the sense of smell is highly under rated as a sense.  Everyone wants to See, Touch, Taste things but Smell some how gets over looked. Even Hear gets more love then Smell which is ridiculous! What good are all the spices of Life if you can't smell them??  Think about the smell of buffalo wings, mmm. Did your nostrils flare? Mine did! Think about the smell of fresh cut grass...ahhh.  Think about the smell of a pair of brand new Jordans... marijuana, a pizza place, an orange, a crisp fall night, horse shit, the ocean, a dollar bill, dirty pussy, your breath, blacktop, a stripper, your bf/gf, popcorn, your own ass!  Smelling things is awsome guys! The whiff of a certain smell can spark a cherished memory or ignite a dormant emotion.  When something like that occurs, its what i call "aromatic".   That's the combination of "aroma" and "cinematic".  GET IT???  

Hmmmm ???

I see these things all the time!!! Not sure whats going on here but i intend to find out!

Rebel without a job

Helloooo all! 

Plan "B" here, off a fresh fantastic week of weather!  I'm really loving the warm weather NY's been having, its a relief after that crushing winter we just had.  word.  

Could that have been Plan "Bs" last NY winter??????????????

Sorry for the recent blog delay's but these days are just too nice to pass up!   As much as I love to sit in my dark apartment writing blogs about my pathetic life or half baked conspiracy theories I'd much rather be doing something out doors.  Plan "B" advocates that all his readers stay physically active.  Some of you readers are getting too fat!  You sit on your computer all day, constantly checking my page, waiting for me to update the blog. (Steadmans Army)  I love you but you're pathetic!  Go outside!  

Plan "B" is physically fit.  If I'm not jogging in 3 miles through rough terrain, I'm exercising my rock hard core.  On the days when I'm not sculpting my greek god like body, you can find me on the golf course.  Golf is cool because its the only sport where you can drink, smoke and gamble while you play! 

Golf is fun but its expensive!  Recently, I've been playing golf like I'm the CEO of a corporation and not like an unemployed comedian.  Not a care in the world!  Most people would be out looking for a job but not me!  Nope!  I'm on a golf course shankn balls and pointing out the massive chemtrails in the sky.  Not a care in the world!  Loving life!    Plan "B" stays living above his means!  I aint joking!   Today, I played a round of golf and had a lobster dinner! BOOM!  I can't even pay my rent, but that lobster was succulent!  People often wonder how I live a Justin Beiber lifestyle on a Corey Haim budget.  Easy. It's a simple a term called "credit card debit".

Having a job would be nice but that would totally get in the way of all the other cool shit I'm doing.  I look at it like this....I'm getting paid to play golf, thanks to Obama and government cheese!   It's kind of ironic that an anti-government, conspiracy theorist is reliant on a government hand out.   Plan "B" OUT! 

Oh really??????