I am writing this in a bar (Kitty O’Shea’s) in Chicago.  At the table next to me sits a woman and her 7 year-old son, Mark.  Mark has a signature move – throwing bread at people as if they were seagulls.  It’s adorable to everyone in the bar except for me and the busboy – Mark’s primary target – especially after he overheard a request from the mother for a new loaf of bread.

It's been a month since I left my job in search of something (I think is) better.  The good news is that it's not in Cleveland -- I can cross that off the list.  Sometimes, people will send me emails asking to hear more about what happens behind the scenes.  Just like their support for the trip, either they mean it or they don't.

The road has been good to us. I've figured out how to set up my equipment on stage without too much of a delay, when to call bookers to land shows at good clubs and what jokes will work in certain areas of the country.  We've avoided federal prosecution after an incident at the post office and have been greeted in every city by a blizzard.  We’ve established a routine.  Sometimes, though, when I wake up disoriented in a new hotel room or when we're all in the car silently watching a sunset as we drive through some desolate part of the country, I'll think of my ex and all of our secret moments and wonder what the hell I'm doing.  I’m sure Pete and Torio are experiencing something similar. 

And then, something will happen – I’ll hit a pedestrian or someone on the radio will talk about the unrest in Egypt – and we’ll laugh again. 

I like to drink with strangers -- audience members, comics, locals, even hotel groundskeepers -- because they're always polite and eager to share their stories without a fear of judgment.  They're foolish because I do judge them and it's awkward when I laugh at their dreams. Still, it's freeing to spend time with people for a brief amount of time; you can say or do whatever you want without having to worry about apologizing for your actions.

I must go.  I have to craft my latest missive about Rosie O’Donnell (and Mark just received his loaf of bread), but I will keep you posted.

Best,

Joe

P.S. Happy one-month anniversary, readers.  I didn't get you anything.

We're 17 days into the trip and I've already received a stream of criticism.  According to Conan or Bust followers (comprising creditors and telemarketers) I am emotionally unavailable, inscrutable, and downright cold.  Apparently, people want to know about the real me and my take on the trip. Fine.

Well, let me dispel a few myths for you upfront.

Myth # 1:  "Must be nice!  Leaving everything to hang out in differnt cities drinking, hitting on girls, and telling jokes."

Fact: Let me paint a picture: right now I’m sleeping on couch cushions in the middle of a kitchen floor.  Many things occur to a person when he finds himself at the age of 32 waking up in the middle of the night clinging to the oven drawer that holds pots and pans.  Those things include but are not limited to the following: How did I end up here?  I wonder who will accidentally step on my face first?  At what point will the dog go to the bathroom on me?

Luckily, I don’t have time to worry about such trivial matters as my mind is focused solely on the couch cushions that continually separate about every 30 seconds creating a sort of trap door for my stomach.

Myth # 2:  "You guys are having so much fun entertaining me, I don't need to be a FB fan of the site."

Fact: If you're not a fan of the site, I can't spam you with information for you to instantly delete or ask to allow me to crash on your kitchen floor.  Remember when I signed up for your boring fb groups or went to your dad's funeral?  It's payback time.

Myth # 3: "You must meet all sorts of interesting characters on the road!"

Fact: Nope.  Except for this guy.  He's a dire warning for us all. This is the face of Bristol, PA.  I put it on a T-Shirt and tried to sell it at the Bristol show.  I sold them all.

Myth # 4: "Why do you always have skits where a minority gets shafted?  Why are you an awful person?!"

Fact: Stop projecting.  I am king of the minorities.  After I write the sketches, we post ads on craigslist for actors.  The only people who show up happen to be minorities.  And we all have a great time.  Or at least that's what I force them to say.

Breaking news update: It was a contractor performing work on the house that stepped on my face.  He later apologized, which was nice, but to be fair I'm not sure what etiquette dictates when it comes to finding someone sleeping on a kitchen floor, who happens to be a houseguest and not a vagrant.  I've already sent in a query to Martha Stewart Living. I'll keep you updated. 

It seems like every time you turn around James L Brooks is releasing new laugh-riot movies like How Do You Know?  That's why I want to devote some time to the little guys like Kevin James and Vince Vaughn.  Their latest effort, The Dilemma, focuses on the problems that arise when a guy discovers that his best friend's wife is cheating.  Then, hilarity ensues! 

When I heard the premise -- man struggles with whether to tell his friend about his wife's devious ways -- I immediately thought of some sequels showcasing other "hilarious" dilemmas.

The boys are back.  After evening the dilemma score last time (James' wife was a cheater, Vaughn lost his legs) the guys decide to run a daycare.  But just when things start to settle down, they're thrown a hilarious curve ball.  Turns out the janitor at the daycare is a sex offender.

Should they turn him in or continue to let him read to the kids during the day?  He's a great janitor and is really, really good with kids! 

Fun for the whole family and your court-appointed attorneys!

The Dilemma 4
 

Premise:
Simply a recut of the classic film Deer Hunter intercut with a laugh track and shots of Kevin James getting hit in the groin. 

So many comedy bullets in every chamber, you can't lose!