At the risk of spoiling the brilliance of my perfectly constructed set and depriving you of a once in a lifetime chance to witness my hilarity first-hand, I'm going to take you on a whirlwind tour of my groundbreaking stand-up act.

Because you need to win the audience over as soon as you step on stage, I approach every gig with an energy that could best be described as Dane Cook meets more Dane Cook. This means I'm not afraid to fully commit myself to a bit, often rolling around on the stage or making wild exaggerated movements to emphasize my point. I'm not ripping anyone off! Sure, the act is inspired by some great comedians, but I pride myself on writing fresh material.
   
For example, I start with a bit about how my ex-girlfriend was totally crazy. Sure, I embellish some of the details and outright lie about others, but that's what comedy is. Plus, I'm self-deprecating. I segue from talking about my fictitious ex into some jokes about how I'm single now and not quite sure why. These always seem to kill.
   
Once I have the crowd eating out of the palm of my hand, I ease my way into some of my edgier material. This is the part where I turn into a Chris Rock/Richard Pryor type, and while continuing to bring the funny I also start bringing the think. Just because I'm white doesn't mean I can't talk about race. I always like to "flip the switch," if you will, and point out some of the stupid things white people do that make us so lame. This is where I tear into topics like smooth jazz, and the weird fascination my parents have with Law and Order reruns. I'm so clever.

Talking about my parents provides an excellent opportunity to discuss my childhood and make some revealing observations about growing up in the suburbs. I talk about getting picked on in school, having a crotchety bus driver named Bernie, and the awkwardness of puberty. Whenever I discuss these topics, I can't help but think how unfair it is that I'm white. If only I had grown up with Asian parents...my material would have written itself.
   
But, with my razor wit I make due with what I have. Just because I'm white and privileged--and as previously discussed therefore, pretty lame—it doesn't mean I can't still extract little observational nuggets of gold from my everyday life. I pepper the audience with a buckshot of relatable brilliance when I give them my take on going to the grocery store, eating at trendy restaurants, and the numerous joys of airline travel. (Have you noticed how the food usually sucks?)

I bet you're wondering if it's even possible to step it up another notch and go out on a high note. Well, if you'd ever seen my act you wouldn't have to.

Comedy is a lot like sex, and the audience a mysterious and beautiful woman. And after poking and prodding her funny-bone for about 20 minutes, you have her begging for that last rapturous laugh; the comedic equivalent of an orgasm. That's right: Impressions.

I always close with impressions everyone can enjoy, and I spice them up by putting these well-known people in outrageous what-if scenarios. What if Bill Clinton was a guest judge on American Idol? What if Jack Nicholson had been in Mrs. Doubtfire? And what would happen if William Shatner suddenly lost control of his bowels?

"I...uh...appeartohave...shat...uh...myself."

As you can see, this also overlaps with my subtle observational style—since I cleverly made a play on Shatner's last name. And, this last impression always brings the house down.

If only Star Search were still on the air...you could tune in and watch the magic happen. But for now, you'll just need to free up a Tuesday night and mosey on down to Hardy Guffaw's for open-mic night. I'm always there, front and center, ready to entertain. I promise you won't be disappointed.