BANG! YOU'RE DEAD!

so, i am in the backyard of a friend's house, shooting the breeze, communing with mother nature and, surprise, telling stories...when my phone rang; i did not recognize the number nor the area code.

me: hello.

voice which i also did not recognize: let me ask you a question: if you had a full grown male monkey, how many times during the day could you make the monkey cum by blowing him?

me: how many times could i make him cum?

voice: that's right, full climax, no dry runs.

me: only by blowing him? i can't use, say, manual stimulation?

voice: only by blowing him.

me: hmmmmm.....hmmm......20

voice: i think you are in the ball park; i thought i could get as high as 16 myself.

me: i'm very oral, so i may have a head start on you, so to speak.

voice: (laughs) this is ken rogerson, in case you didn't recognize my voice.

me: (laughs) oh, kenny, i figured out who it was by the synchronicity of the thing: i am sitting here with winston o'roark from catch a rising star and i was just telling her about how you and i met.

winston: oh my god! is that kenny?

me: of course it is.

kenny: hope the cia isn't taping this, i would hate to have to explain all these words.

me: there will be headlines in all the right wing press and on right wing radio: OBAMA SUPPORTERS SUCK MONKEY COCK!!!

and winston o'roark just screamed with laughter.

(my wife said don't post that. i asked why and she said it was obscene and i said, i don't care and then she said it was in bad taste, i said i don't care about that either; is it funny? and she said yes. and there you go.)

winston and i had been talking about ken rogerson right before that phone rang. here is the story i had just finished telling her.

kenny and i first met in 1985 where i was middling for him in birmingham, alabama. it was probably the last time i middled and it was, for sure, the last time i played birmingham. we hit it off immediately, birds of a feather and all.

there is a little side story here; the guy who booked this used me in several of his rooms but only as a middle. i had called him and told him that either start headlining me because i was not going to middle anymore and besides, says i, the headliners you are working can't follow me. i am blowing these hacks off the stage and you want me to fucking middle??? he tells me i have to middle one more time and then he gives me some headliner dates. i tell him, well, i am going to blow whoever your headliner is off the fucking stage, i am going to embarrass him, i am going to clean his clock and so on and so forth.

i was wrong on that, kenny could follow jesus christ, but that is not what this story is about, just a little showbiddness sidebar for you and an example of don't let your alligator mouth....

i digress. back to the story.

for whatever reason and under the influence of whatever drugs we happened to be doing at time in the 80's, rogerson and i decided upon a lifetime pact of that whenever one of us could sneak up on the other one unawares and shoot them with our finger and shouting BANG! the shootee must fall to the ground as if he were shot. once again, why we thought this up, i have nary a clue nor excuse; it just sounded good and had probably come as the result of a 'what if' scenerio story...

that was early in the week and now it is friday evening after the first show. i see rogerson over across the room engaged in sincere conversation with a good looking young woman. being an observer of human nature and a reader of body signals, i deduce that young kenny is putting the move on young lady. i manage to get to a table behind and off to the side so that neither is aware i am there and i can now hear how they are going to meet for lunch and at what time and where. the where is pretty close to our hotel.

you know where this is going by now.

i have hid in the back of the cafe and sure enough here comes ken and the young lady. soon they are engaged in conversation; leaning forward, looking to each other's eyes, the move is on. that smooth ken is obviously working on closing this deal, food is ignored, they have eyes only for each other which explains why they do not see me rapidily approaching. coming up behind kenny, i pull my finger out of my shoulder holster and go BANG! YOU'RE DEAD!

without missing a beat, ken tries to get up, clutches his chest, goes aahhhhggrr, and collapses onto the table tipping it over and spilling the drinks, the meal and crashes to the floor. the girl screams and i run laughing out of the place. he never did get that girl.

but he did get me; fifteen years later. i am working at the trop here in vegas and i am getting ready to go out for the final bow and as i go through the curtain onto the stage, ken has positioned himself right at the edge of the stage where i am to enter and as i hit the stage, he stands up, pulls his finger out of his ankle holster and BANG! YOU'RE DEAD! i, of course, fall to the floor. management was pissed....but they got over it.

and that is one of the many reasons i love being a comic....hanging out with other comics.

p.s. if you ever get a chance to see kenny rogerson...DO IT. he is one of the very few comics i would pay to go see. he is absolutely brilliant and is, in my opinion, one of the best that has ever graced a stage.