Most of the time the second performance is the better one, for two reasons: The comic has already done the first one, gotten the nerves out, and in their mind that one is in the can and they’re done. Now they can go out there and just have fun. And generally the later audience just has more energy. They’ve had a couple drinks. It’s always a more exciting performance.

💥 : “We’re all unpaid interns for Mark Zuckerberg now!”

The comedy club owner asked why my ticket sales were low and I didn’t really have a good answer. I texted back:

I think I may be one of the last comics who doesn’t pay a PR company, or pay for social media management or pay for Meta boosting right now. It helps to pay to be in your followers’ feeds. My managers suggested I hire a company to geo-target ads on Meta to sell more tickets now that everyone is doing stand-up comedy/touring.

My fan base could be struggling to pay their bills and gas? Who knows maybe they were putting it off for the last second? Or they can’t afford tickets?

💥 Jordan Klepper, Ronny Chieng Think Satire Is the ‘Responsibility of the American Comedian’ [via The Jokebook]

💥 YouTube revised payment structures and does the math revealing your potential reward of 30 cents an hour.

500 views per episode × 52 episodes = 26,000 views a year.

At $3 RPM: $78.

That’s the year. That’s the check. Seventy-eight dollars.

To put it another way: if you and your friend spend 5 hours a week on your show — filming, editing, uploading, writing descriptions — that’s 260 hours of labor a year. Your YouTube ad revenue works out to about 30 cents an hour.

💥 Don’t bomb without a fight. “That just means that’s the show. Make the bombing the show,” says Rory Scovel to Neal Brennan on Blocks. Full interview:

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“I’m not offended by all the dumb blonde jokes because I know I’m not dumb — and I’m not blonde either.”

“People always ask me how long it takes to do my hair. I don’t know, I’m never there.”

“It takes a lot of time and money to look this cheap.”

She was quick on the draw too:

RIP.

Alice Fraser: I want comedians to go deeper than the ultra-processed infoslop of internet opinion. [Chortle]

I have developed a suspicion, and it’s growing, that I can identify what podcasts a comedian is listening to within the first five minutes of watching their set…The thing that makes me think I have this magical sorting power is the premises. Or the pre-premises. The starting points feel familiar.

…

I want acts who read. Who watch old things, or unpopular things, or consume only beat poetry for six months before they write their show. I want mixed-up digestion of half-baked ideas, and exciting stuff being explored on stage.

…

I want comedians to think about their intellectual diets; to refuse the temptation to have their thoughts pre-chewed and spat into their mouths. I want acts who are able to function as fully-formed whole human beings in a world where every single one of our most basic human impulses are being machinegunned by ultra-processed infoslop and frictionless consumption-hacked dopamaxxing scrollbait.

The existence of algorithms have us all fooled into thinking we can know what we’ll like based on stuff we already like. In a world of AI and prediction markets, I think maybe the only way to make stuff is to get unpredictable, unprecedented, glitchy. Wipe your cookies and start a new path through everything…Surprise me!

Read the rest here.

P.S. Back in Narrowsburg, NY on Tuesday, September 1st (with Mark Normand). Tickets here.

Comedians test our hypotheses (joke ideas) and collect real time data (laughter) and then share our findings with the world (specials)…so we are scientists in a way.

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The Imperfectionist: The freewriting way of life

Freewriting challenges the yearning for control in a rather obvious fashion. It requires you to abandon the method of “figuring out something good or clever to say before writing anything down” and to replace it with “writing things down without knowing if anything good or clever will come out.”

🔌 Support this thing. Get the paid plan. You get bonus stuff too. Cool.

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The basics of freewriting, from Peter Elbow’s 1973 book Writing Without Teachers:

1. Choose an idea you’d like to explore, a problem to solve, or a piece of writing to work on; or maybe you lack one, in which case the goal of this session can be to come up with one.

2. Set a timer for a short period. Ten minutes is more than enough to begin with.

3. Write without stopping or deleting. There’s no need to go especially fast; what matters is simply that the process is continuous rather than halting. If you can’t think of anything to write, write that.

4. Undergo a massive existential crisis as the freewriting process collides with your preference for staying in control, performing for others’ approval, and never making an embarrassing mess. (Elbow doesn’t exactly put it this way, but he certainly anticipates such reactions.)

5. At the end of the session, discover – almost always – that the chaos on the page contains at least a few decent ideas, insights or turns of phrase you could never have arrived at by any other means.

Related:

P.S. Come see me headline in Arlington, VA on Friday, August 21. Tickets here.

Comedy Means Business (a great comedy newsletter from Deadline by Matt Grobar) has another edition of Back of the Room, “a new regular column of observations on comedy from stand-up Matt Ruby” (subscribe here).

Excerpt:

• The wisest path to standup success now: Start a beef with someone in the Rogansphere and hope one of those YouTube gossipmongers clips it along with some spicy commentary. That’s because YouTube vids gossiping about comedians now get far more views than actual standup specials. It’s the Bravo-ification of art. It’s all gossip about the show. Same thing with “First Take” and Pat McAfee’s arms taking over ESPN. People want charismatic personalities gossiping about the thing more than they actually want to watch the thing. Tech promised us software would eat the world. Instead, tea-spilling did.

• Broke crowds are way more fun than bougie ones. Rich people live in fear – anxious about status, who’s watching, and if they’re a target. Poor people don’t give a damn. They just wanna have a good time.

• The problem with all ages comedy shows ain’t the kids, it’s what they do to the room/vibe. Parents will explain, “I’m fine with my kids being there.” That’s not the issue. The problem: The rest of the crowd is gonna act weird when some guy onstage is talking about his junk and your 12 year old is in the front row.

Read the rest.

We talked to multiple creators who landed spots at the Netflix Is a Joke Fest, and one pattern kept coming up: the shows that break through often combine two ideas that don’t normally go together…If your show feels interchangeable, it’s easy to overlook. If it has a clear identity, it’s easier to book.

Examples given:

• stand-up with live wrestling

• comedy with game show chaos

• stand-up with themed audience games and cultural bits

Ok, I gotta gently rant on this…

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I’ve published a bunch of good comedy-related stuff coming from writing guru (and standup fan) here before…

Here’s a new one: interviewed , former editor-in-chief of The Onion, for his “How I Write” show.

Before the episode, I went up to Scott and said, “I have one goal for this: I want to start writing funny. You know how to do it. Can you teach me everything you've learned?"

David Perell's How I Write

Scott Dikkers: 11 Ways to Make Your Writing More Funny

Big thanks to Alpha School for being the presenting sponsor of this episode…

Listen now

a month ago · 8 likes · David Perell

For those who won’t go all the way, here’s a quickie summary (via ChatGPT):

The core idea

Comedy isn’t mysterious talent—it’s a craft. Dikkers argues that humor can be learned through repeatable techniques, deliberate practice, and a systematic approach rather than waiting for inspiration.

Key lessons

• Everything starts with point of view (POV). Funny writing isn’t just about jokes—it’s about having a clear opinion or perspective. Comedy comes from how you see the world.

• Write a lot. The biggest mistake beginners make is not producing enough work. Instead of polishing one piece forever, write hundreds or thousands of jokes, headlines, or short pieces. Quantity builds quality.

• Start with opinions. A practical exercise: write down ten opinions about anything. Most humor grows from an observation or judgment, not random silliness.

• Notice what’s “off.” Great comedians constantly observe everyday life and record small inconsistencies or behaviors others recognize but haven’t articulated.

• Push ideas further than feels comfortable. Once you find a funny premise, exaggerate it. Half-committing usually isn’t funny; fully embracing absurdity often is.

• Use “funny filters.” Dikkers identifies 11 mechanisms for generating humor:

  • Irony

  • Character

  • Shock

  • Hyperbole

  • Wordplay

  • Reference

  • Madcap (wild physical absurdity)

  • Parody

  • Analogy

  • Misplaced focus

  • Meta-humor

  These are tools you can consciously apply to an idea.

• Keep the premise simple. Beginners often cram in too many jokes. A single clear comedic idea, explored consistently, is usually stronger.

• Layer your humor. The broad joke should be accessible to everyone, while deeper references or subtler ideas reward attentive readers. The Simpsons is cited as a model for balancing mass appeal with intellectual depth.

• Context matters. Comedy works better when there’s a “straight” frame that contrasts with the absurdity. The Onion‘s newspaper style makes its ridiculous headlines funnier because the presentation stays completely serious.

• Stay in character. Especially in satire, don’t wink at the audience. The funniest Onion articles read like genuine news reports about impossible events.

• Separate creation from editing.

  • Clown brain: Generate ideas freely without judging them.

  • Editor brain: Come back later and refine ruthlessly.

  Mixing the two too early kills creativity.

Practical takeaways

If you want to become funnier as a writer:

1. Keep a notebook of everyday observations.

2. Write ten opinions whenever you’re stuck.

3. Pick one idea and exaggerate it.

4. Apply one “funny filter” instead of many.

5. Write frequently rather than endlessly revising.

6. Draft without self-editing, then revise later with fresh eyes.

The overall message is that professional comedy is less about innate wit and more about developing a disciplined process: observe carefully, generate lots of ideas, structure them around a strong point of view, and practice until the techniques become instinctive.

Consume the full thing here.

Some thoughts on standup:

1. The wisest path to standup success now: Start a beef with someone in the Rogansphere and hope one of those YouTube gossipmongers clips it up.

2. “The lottery is a tax on the stupid” is one of the finest jokes ever written.

3. Ever spend your entire life seeking validation based on childhood trauma only to realize it decades later, but at that point it’s too late, so you just say, “Whatever, might as well keep it going?”

4. Standup is crazy because you can spend decades doing it, yet the drunk “it’s my night without the baby” lady in the front row who keeps shouting stuff gets the same level of respect from the audience.

5. Broke crowds are way more fun. Why? Rich people live in fear – anxious about status, who’s watching, and if they’re the target. Poor people don’t give a damn and just wanna have a good time.

6. Sometimes I watch bad comedians and I’m like: Just talk about something you actually care about. It’d be infinitely more interesting than this.

7. The problem with all ages comedy shows ain’t the kids, it’s what they do to the room/vibe. Parents: “I’m fine with my kids being there.” That’s not the issue. The rest of the crowd is gonna act weird when some guy onstage is talking about his strange kinks and your 12 year old is in the front row.

8. “This didn’t have to be a song. But if I had just said it, it wouldn’t be that funny.”
   -Musical comedy

9. I wonder if TED Talk speakers get nasty comments saying, “Nice standup special.”

10. Me, to myself, while bombing:

10 more thoughts below…

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Chris Gethard had to follow Nikki Glaser and Dan Soder at the Cellar. Here’s how he did it (below). In the caption, he offers advice on how to follow heavy hitters “especially when your energy is different.”

So how do you follow two heavy hitters, in a room where the crowd is thrilled to see them, especially when your energy is different, you tell longer stories, and you aren’t nearly as much a name on the tip of this audience’s collective tongue? You come out with energy to match theirs. You grab their momentum to further it instead of stopping it. You self-deprecate to verbalIze their thoughts before they can fully think them so you are the one controlling the dialogue. While self-deprecating you list a credit they genuinely care about, in my case an appearance on The Office. And before they can ask themselves “wait who was he on the office?”, you make a joke about it while giving them info. Show your confidence in the moment while telling them you’ve done some shit too. Stay a step or two ahead of their judgment. Answer their questions before they can ask them. Embrace the challenge. Wrangle the energy - they are euphoric, don’t fear it. Turn your usual energy level up. Do your thing. And do all of that instinctively in the first 30-40 seconds so you can throw down with your material. Happy to report I crushed this set. (I don’t always 😀 )

A lil’ something from me…

Related:

Vaguely similar thing seems to be happening in publishing: 80% of debut novels are written by women. Only 20% by men. Also: LGBTQ characters are way more represented in movies and TV too. So shouldn’t activists be celebrating all that?

comments…

You are entitled to think [80% of debut novels being written by women]’s a good thing, I hear you. The problem for modern progressivism is that people within it can’t admit that it happened. It’s not that you have to say that change is a good thing; it’s that you can’t acknowledge that the publishing industry did the very thing it spent a decade pledging to do and for which we now have good quantitative evidence it did. Just like New York magazine goes on pretending that there’s no LGBTQ characters in movies or TV in 2026, despite the absurdity of that contention; modern progressivism has no tools for navigating victory. The whole culture is built on grievance and so they don’t know how to accept victory. If you’re someone who thinks that it’s good that men don’t get book deals for novels anymore, that’s absolutely your prerogative. But just take the W!

💥 On voice:

💥 on road comic financial dos and don’ts. Here he preaches refundable tickets:

Refundable travel is more expensive! It *is* more expensive, but I find it to still be worthwhile just for the sake of ease of cancellation if you need to change your travel plans. The extra $20-$40 you spend in booking refundable travel is well worth it to never put yourself in a position to have to eat the cost of a $400 flight that you no longer need. Stand-up comedy is so fickle, whether it be venues moving stuff around, unpredictable weather, or changes to your personal schedule. I only book refundable travel now, and I’ve never once regretted it.

💥 Jason Zinoman on unenthusiastic delivery.

While low-energy comics draw an initial chuckle of surprise, this kind of muted stand-up has a much more difficult challenge ahead, since the crowd wants to know the performer is in charge. Loud, gregarious charmers have more tools than monotone deadpan artists.

Take away emotional variance and the showmanship of act-outs, and all the pressure is on the writing, the language, the precision of the jokes. You might call it a purer style of comedy. You can’t coast on charm.

💥 Mel Brooks: The Founding Farter from . [via ]

You once described your comedy as midnight blue, not black. What’s the difference for you between those two hues?

Brooks: I’ve never been hopeless, I’ve never been despondent, but sometimes I will hit tremendous lows. And I feel that I’ve got to show that in comedy. I need to show that characters can be despairing but not suicidal. They can be agonizingly despondent but they never quit. They will always go on to the next step; they will always get back up the ladder. Midnight blue is that thin brushstroke. It’s not pitch black. It’s the color just before darkness comes at sunset. Or just after the lightness arrives after sunrise.

Good stuff. It's like a Rothko painting in words. (Though Rothko committed suicide so maybe the blue turned to black eventually, eh?)

Up ahead: My fave Onion article, Ira Glass wisdom, Ramy on the Saudi Comedy fest, CK on prepping his latest hour, and the ways Trump and Bill Maher are the same.

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Punchup’s blog has good stuff like When do fans actually buy tickets? and Facebook Ads: A Guide for Comedians.

Here’s an interesting excerpt from “When do people buy tickets to shows” Punchup sent to its email list…

What a guaranteed sellout looks like

• 46% of tickets sell on the day the show goes on sale - the single biggest burst

• 51% within the first 3 days

• 58% in the first week on sale

• 63% within two weeks of announcement

→ See this pace? Add a second show. The demand is there.

TYPICAL SHOW

What a normal show looks like:

• Only ~17% of tickets sell a month out. A quiet start is normal

• Just 5% sell two months ahead, the early sales stay flat

• 58% sell in the final week

• 21% sell on the day of the show, this is the single biggest day

The curve is the mirror image: slow and quiet for weeks, then a sharp spike at the very end. These buyers are procrastinators, and create stress, but they do show up!

→ Run ads in the final 14 days (with the majority of the budget spent in the last 7 days). Post the day before, and the day of, that’s when these buyers decide. Make sure you email/text when the show is announced, a week out and the day of the show!

Comedian Ben Rosenfeld typed up a bunch of quotes he underlined from The Comedy Bible by Judy Carter.

A lot of Judy’s tips are basic and formulaic, and this is just a starting point. But you have to know and understand the rules before you break them.

Parts one, two, and three.

Some highlights:

• “Comedy performers and writers can no longer afford the fantasy of waiting to be discovered. Instead they need to discover themselves and become masters of their craft, so that when opportunity knocks they are ready and able to deliver the goods.” (22)

• “The more pages you have, the more likely you are to hit on some truly inventive stuff… it’s a numbers game. The more darts you throw, the more likely you are to hit on something.” (38)

• “After ten years of teaching, I’ve learned that it’s not always the person with the most talent who succeeds – it’s the one with the most endurance.” (51)

• “No one is a natural – you have to work at being a natural.” -Greg Proops (71)

• “Thinking in terms of what is weird, stupid, scary, or hard, rather than thinking about what is funny, will free your creative process.” (78)

• “A premise is not a description of what happened. It’s a cut-to-the-chase, get-to-the-point, original observation.” (79)

• “Comedy isn’t meant to be read. It’s meant to be performed. The laughs are in the execution of the act-outs.” (99)

• “No matter how relatable your topic is, if it doesn’t resonate with you, it probably won’t resonate with your audience either. Passion about a topic can’t be faked. The audience can sense if your topic is authentic for you or if it isn’t.” (104)

• “Do ten or fifteen minutes up front of likeable material and then go to your vile self.” – Greg Proops (140)

• “Rehearsal tips:
  – Never rehearse your act without emotion
  – Always picture what you are talking about. Visualizing who and what you are talking about makes material more dynamic and immediate
  – Don’t practice in front of a mirror or video camera. You won’t be looking at yourself when you perform, so don’t do it while you rehearse.” (154)

• “Mind Mapping topics: Write your topic in the middle of a page and draw a circle around it. Then quickly draw other balloons containing elements of this topic until your entire page is covered with words having to do with your topic. Then focus on each balloon and write offshoots containing the specifics of that topic. Don’t judge, just draw as quickly as you can.” (183)

• “Honing Your Act:
  1. On each card, circle one topic.
  2. Make sure the topic is relatable.
  3. Write an attitude word on each card.
  4. Is that attitude expressed by any of the following words: stupid, weird, hard, bugs me, scary?
  5. Does each topic have a premise that is written out?
  6. Does that premise answer the attitude-topic question? (“Do you know what’s weird?)
  7. Do most topics lead to an act out?
  8. Does the act-out have the same cast of characters as the setup?
  9. Does the act-out exaggerate the attitude?
  10. After some act-outs, do you have a mix?
  11. Do you follow the mix with another act-out?
  12. Do you have a lot of hits on most topics (topic run)?
  13. If you have a list of three items, is the third one a turn?” (191)

• “To get the spontaneity back into your material, picture what you are talking about and feel the attitude as if the event just happened and this is the first time you’re mentioning it.” (192)

• “There should never be even one moment when you are onstage and attitude-free. It’s the kiss of death because audiences respond to emotions, not words.” (195)

• “When a mishap occurs, such as the mike stand breaks, the lights go out, or there is a puff of smoke from the grassy knoll, acknowledge it. When you call the situation, it puts the audience at ease.” (198)

• “If it’s a small crowd, less than fifty people, talk to them because they’ll tend to laugh more in their heads than out loud. That’s especially true if they are spread out in a room. Involving the audience in a conversation reminds them that they aren’t watching TV – you can hear them, and it’s appropriate to laugh out loud.” (198)

• “I sit down and write crap for forty minutes. Everybody thinks that they have to write funny, every line. All you have to do is pick a subject and write about that and then pick another subject and write about that. I guarantee you that at the end of forty minutes, you will crank out a funny line because it takes forty minutes for your brain to click over from the dealing-with-life side to the creative side. Then go back to what you wrote and fix it. And the more writing sessions you have, the quicker your creativity will click in.” – Chris Titus (204)

• “What often keeps a script from becoming great is that the writer is married to things that are just OK. Just as in writing stand-up, you must be willing to dump not only the things that don’t work but also the things that are just adequate. Adequate won’t get you a job. Only brilliance will.” (261?)

• “I fell into the trap of equating fame with success. For so many years I felt like a failure. It didn’t matter if I got a standing ovation, had a great writing day, or even pulled in some big bucks doing comedy – I wasn’t a household name. It took me a long time to realize that success is a state of mind. My critical voice that nagged, “But you don’t have a sitcom,” quieted down as I started focusing on small triumphs – like finding a great premise, writing new material, having a great set. Today I enjoy my career. Only about 1 percent of comics are famous, yet there are a lot of us out there making a fine living from the road, corporate gigs, TV appearances, writing for other comics, speaking, and of course, writing books. Enjoy where you are – today.” (276)

• “Be willing to throw out material – even if it kills. If you get a chunk that kills and you do it every show, soon you will depend on that piece. You may even become frightened to perform without it. Take a courageous step and toss it out for a few months, to make room for another piece to add to your stockpile of killer material.” (283)

“I’d imagine if I were sitting where you are right now and I bought a ticket to a Tony Hinchcliffe show, I’d probably be thinking to myself, ‘Tony, where are those Jew jokes?’ Well, I’m averaging about four specials a year with Netflix right now and I’m not in the mood to make Jew jokes anymore.”

Alright, let’s talk about this, um, anti-joke?

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Louis C.K. did a deep dive on standup with Rick Rubin on the Tetragrammaton podcast.

Some of the best bits below…

On not being attached to laughs:

“I don’t think any more — and this has evolved over time — in terms of success or failure on stage. I’m not attached to either outcome. There’s many in between. If you have this idea of laugh no laugh, you’re stuck in two things. It’s like if you are just doing A and F and ignoring all the notes in between. There’s a lot that can happen.”

On bits that kill right away:

“There are some bits that kill right away and I throw them out because I’m like, ‘Yeah, that’s killing because I know how to do this and because that’s pretty down the middle.’ Most of the bits that I have that have turned into bits that people come back and tell me they loved — most of those started in deep disturbed silence. The first times I did them, people were like, ‘No, we don’t want you to do that.’ I’m gonna have to do this bit and fail with it for the next three months before it turns into something. But I already have the nose. That could be a great bit.”

On jokes as seeds:

“Jokes are seeds. Sometimes they just polish and harden and stay the same size and you end up with a nut, and sometimes they sprout and grow roots and all kinds of crazy shit.”

On detaching from validation:

“If you can detach from the personal and the judgment and the feeling of validation, you can get so much more done. It’s not saying like fuck them or I don’t care. It’s saying if you can just detach from the moment of validation meaning so much, then you can really hear that there’s a lot in silence. There’s a huge range.”

On observations vs. opinions:

“An opinion is a closing. An opinion is like, ‘That’s it. That’s the verdict. That’s how I feel.’ Well, that’s a shame. Like what’d you do that for? Now you can’t see anymore. It’s blinding. An observation is an opening. It’s opening your eyes.”

On saying the unsayable:

“It’s like you’re going to throw up. And the joke being the vomit. There’s great potential in sticking with it and sticking with it and sticking with it and not letting it go. There was just a massive amount of treasure on the other side of that line.”

On playing adversarial rooms:

“If you’re having a good time on stage, especially when you’re developing, go find somewhere else to work because you’re not growing. You have to try to win over an audience. Going into a room of people that think what you think is cool is cool, then all you have to do is lead them around and they’ll cheer you on. But I just think you get better at it if you’re in adversity.”

On upsetting audiences:

“The problem is that when I do a bit where I’m like, I’m going to introduce this, they get upset. Okay, so here’s, let me find a road to it. Trust me, I know you’re upset, but it’s okay. And then they get it. They start to get it more and more. And then the bit starts killing. It starts killing. And then I just get off on that. It kills because I’m so good at this, like I know how to do this. And then my feeling — the conveyance of a feeling during the bit, which is a big part of it — instead of it being like, ‘Look, I know this is a tough subject but I’m asking you to open your mind to a new thought about it,’ I’d started doing the bit like, ‘Here comes the next killer, here comes the next killer, but this bit always kills, you’re going to love this, everybody loves this one.’ Thank god I did it in Houston because as I was starting it, this woman in the colorful hat was looking at me like, ‘That’s fucking horrible. Why are you talking about that?’ And I looked at her and I realized I forgot this bit’s offensive to anybody. I forgot. And I’m doing it with like a smug bravado because I’m given to that. I’m fucking funny. Fuck you. And so I started looking directly at her and I let her lead me and I went back to like, I know, just here’s an idea, just — like she’s pointing a gun at my face and I’m like, listen, just take a breath and listen. And she’s like, mmm, kind of like okay. And I go, how about this? She goes, yeah, that’s true. And I go, how about this? And she goes, that’s actually interesting the way you’re saying that. And then I go, how about this? And she laughs. And I’m like, let’s fucking remember that. And she was in my head. She was in my mind every time I did that joke for the rest of the year, including when I did it for the special.”

Related: Lots more CK stuff in the archives.

I keep posting stuff (see above) from , “The Writing Guy,” here on Funny How because he’s got a sharp mind for writing, loves comedy, and asks good questions.

His latest comedy-focused interview is with Tom Segura: “How to Tell Jokes.”

It might sound silly, but I believe the best thing a comic can do is simply talk a lot. You’ll naturally say more funny things if you’re talking more. It’s a version of trying things out. You obviously try material on stage, but even off stage, you have certain friends you just bounce ideas off of. The more you do that, the more you develop a skill over time.

You’ll recognize when you’re in conversation and you say something that just has legs—something with potential. That becomes the biggest muscle of all: recognizing, “Oh, that’s something,” versus just casually shooting the shit. Sometimes, something just clicks, and you develop the skill to know, “That’s a thing.”

…

My friend, Jeff Tate, a great comic, advised, “Just do them all. Write down all your thoughts, even the dumb ones, and take the dumb ones on stage. Just say them all.” I realized that was the best advice: don’t try to filter through, thinking, “That’s not good enough.”

It’s a good convo. You can watch the video here (or there’s a transcript too).

Subscribe now

Below is a quickie ChatGPT summary of 10 takeaways for comedians but it’s worth consuming the whole thing.

1. Talk more.
   “The best thing a comic can do is simply talk a lot.”

A young comedian’s instinct is often to sit alone and “write jokes.” Segura’s point is that comedy usually comes from interaction. Conversation creates material. The more you talk, the more premises, reactions, rhythms, and observations you uncover.

2. Learn to recognize what’s funny.
   “You develop the skill to know, ‘That’s a thing.’”

Comedy is pattern recognition. Great comics train themselves to notice strange behavior, awkward moments, contradictions, and tiny details other people ignore.

3. Have opinions.
   “What isn’t funny is lacking an opinion.”

A weak comedic voice usually comes from neutrality. Funny people care too much about something. They’re annoyed, obsessed, judgmental, confused, fascinated. Strong perspective creates tension, and tension creates comedy.

4. Pay attention to ordinary interactions.
   “Those little interactions have always been something I’ve reported.”

Some of the best material comes from completely mundane experiences: ordering coffee, talking to strangers, hearing somebody say something bizarre in passing. The key is noticing what everyone else filters out.

5. Say the thing everyone recognizes but nobody says aloud.
   “We’ve all experienced this, but that person was the first one to actually say it.”

That’s the core of observational comedy. The audience laughs because they instantly recognize the truth of it — and because they can’t believe someone finally verbalized it.

6. Don’t kill ideas too early.
   “Just do them all. Write down all your thoughts.”

Young comics often try to sound polished immediately. Segura’s advice is the opposite: generate volume first. Most ideas won’t work, but filtering too early prevents you from discovering the few that do.

7. Jokes evolve on stage.
   “Something magical happens when you get on stage.”

Material changes in front of an audience. A line that seemed weak suddenly works. A clever idea dies instantly. Stand-up isn’t just writing — it’s live experimentation.

8. Surprise is the engine of comedy.
   “The best feeling of a joke is always the element of surprise.”

The laugh comes from the turn. The audience thinks they know where you’re going, and then you redirect them somewhere unexpected.

9. Reps matter more than inspiration.
   “There’s no substitute for performing numerous sets.”

Segura talks about doing “200 to 250 performances” to shape an hour. Great stand-up is usually built through repetition, refinement, bombing, adjustment, and repetition again.

10. Don’t fear silence.
    “Good, seasoned performers are not afraid of silence.”

New comics rush. Experienced comics understand that pauses create tension, emphasis, rhythm, and confidence. Silence can actually increase the laugh when used correctly.

Bonus:

“The best mindset for me to go on stage with is silliness.”

That may be the most important line in the whole interview. The best comedians often look relaxed and playful because they are. Audiences can feel when someone is trying too hard versus genuinely having fun.

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Some quotes from Fleming below…

How did he go from struggling to being successful?

Doubling down, I think. And I think just tuning out other trends also, I think is really good. Keeping your head down. And kind of just really, really being like: I need to say this. And also doing things that are really frightening and really feel like pushing yourself and counterintuitive. Destructive sometimes. Self-destructive. In terms of saying things where people are like, “Whoa.” Talking sh*t in certain ways. Just kind of letting it out and truly trying to get honest with them. You can talk to your audience the way that you talk to your high school friends.

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Feeling can be more important than the words:

I’ll get closer and closer to truly entertaining myself on stage and being amazed that people are with me on something. It’s always shocking. And I think that after enough time, comedy often — language is really limiting and things that don’t make sense. But if there’s a feeling behind it, or if it represents something, then the words aren’t even as important as the feeling.

Why he sometimes films first versions of jokes and posts them on Instagram:

There’s something so animal about an audience, and that’s what’s terrifying. They’re, like, smelling the freshness. The first time you do something. That’s why, at Largo, I filmed the first bit. The first time I’m doing a bit and put it out. Because sometimes like the second through seventh time, it’s like terrible.

On prioritizing clarity:

Chris: [Rick Jenkins] was like, ‘Well, yeah, you can get as crazy as you want up there, Chris. But you know what you’re talking about. But if they don’t know what you’re talking about... all you got to do is let them in and be really clear. And then you can get as crazy as you want.’”

Mike: “That’s super smart...I got a similar piece of advice when I was starting out... where he goes, ‘A lot of times you’re not conveying the thing that’s in your head exactly, and that’s why they’re not laughing. You just need to explain it better.’”

Chris: “Yeah... they simply don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

Here are a couple clips from comedy docs directed by the masterful Matt Salacuse. He’s always grabbing good stuff behind the scenes.

First one is Mark Normand’s “Page to Stage” (ep 2) where I’m helping him crack a joke. The whole thing is a great look at the writing process and all the little tweaks that happen along the way.

The second is from my “Substance” special/experiment where I performed sets high, drunk, on 🍄, and sober. Which one is the real “act” though?

You can find both on YouTube and you’ll totally enjoy/guaranteed. 👍

P.S. Catch Mark Normand and I performing on HOT SOUP every Tuesday night at 10:30pm at Comedy Cellar.

That word you’re using because it’s “more polite” is actually just erasing meaning.

Reminds me of how the term once used for this kinda fool was just “Polack.”

Q: How many Polacks does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Three – one to hold the bulb, and two to turn the ladder.

(My mom used to have “moron” jokes that were all the same kinda thing.) As a grown up, this feels astounding since the Polish people I’ve met have largely been software engineers, chess champions, and linguistics professors. Meanwhile, the vast majority of Americans are a bunch of, well, morons.

Which brings us to George Carlin…

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George Carlin to Vulture:

The first time I write it down, it makes a second impression, a deeper path. Every time I look at that piece of paper, until I file it in my file, each time, the path gets a little richer and deeper so that these things are all in there.”

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Eric G. Reid: “Anyone can build a note-taking system like George Carlin.”

Excerpt:

• When you see, read, or think of something interesting, write it down. Don’t assume you’ll remember It later.

• Record your notes regularly AND in one place. That way, they’re easy to find.

• Review your notes every few days, rewrite them, and expand them. Write about what interests you.

• When editing your notes, consider how note A connects to note B, B connects to note C, etc.

• Practice turning notes into a public-facing work like a Twitter thread, blog post, article, newsletter, or other content type. Don’t let them sit on your computer or notebook.

More:

He’d write a note about something interesting. A few days or weeks later, he’d rewrite and expand on that note into pithy observations. He’d also figure out how his notes connected to each other.

Then, he’d turn them into bits for his shows. The result sounded like an off-the-cuff riff to the untrained listener… a riff months or even years in gestation. Carlin said,

“ I’m drawn to something and start writing about it, and then you really start writing, and that’s when the real ideas pounce out, and new ideas, and new thoughts and images, and then bing, ba-bam ba-boom, that’s the creative part.”

Bunch more Carlin stuff in the archives.