You're not Doug Stanhope or Dan Bialek so shut your rubbery, foetid trap about how you are going to book your own stand-up tour or how you are going to get 50 fans to pay 10 bucks to see you at a bar, whatever.
I'm all for talented people doing this. People with discipline who have a voice and impressive stage presence. A point of view.
But no one wants to toss any smackaroons your way to hear your jibber jabber about how Williamsburg is annoying or how many Sylvester Stallone films you saw this morning. I'm a recovering Marxist materialist, so the last thing I want to tout is individuality or having a soul.
But could the reason you tell so many alterna-hacky robot sci-fi jokes be that you are, indeed, a robot? If so, I have news for you: you won't make money off anybody. American Apparel and Vice Magazine are reaping glittering fields of lucre off your android ass.
Seriously, are you a fucking replicant? Did you ever have your heart broken? Does anything upset you? Are you really so oblivious about the impending recession that you think people will temporarily put aside their fears of finding affordable housing or having bad credit so you can act out a scene from Styx's "Mr. Roboto?"
It's alterna-clones like you that will lead to the alternative comedy bust. What was meant to allow comics with unique voices a chance to be heard will eventually become a hipster circle jerk.
So think twice before you spam all fifty of your fans about your upcoming show at some faux-dive with a $10 cover. The "fans" may really be blade runners.
NOTE: This is not directed at anyone reading this through FaceBook.