OLD RANT - When cleverer people get the upper hand

In my previous job, I got embarrassed by a work colleague over my use of the English language while I was trying to explain my assistance with a problem the whole company was having.

Right there, I just felt like a kid again.

In my defense, I suffer from the same type of stigma that most do: when you're in the company of people you place your trust in, in most occasions you fall back on the most comfortable form of speech that is only understood by those who work close to you. This is relevantly a form of trust you impose on the other, and in most occasions when you're being asked to be clearer, it's only that their brain isn't switched on either and they'd like to continue on with the conversation, whereupon you acknowledge it and rev the engine up to get to the destination.

But in that very moment where this person had cleverly nitpicked at my flaw and exposed it to others who laughed at my embarrassment, I felt so small and useless that my instant reaction was to hold my hands up and walk away.
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Tinder Decoder 2.0: Does she want to date you or destroy you completely?

I read a lovely piece on W24 entitled "Tinder Decoder: Does he want to date you or just sleep with you?", a wonderful example of literature lifted entirely from a Grade 10 student's essay book, the kind that sits forever under that dusty DVD copy of "He's Just Not That Into You" after you've watched it with your ex-boyfriend.

I enjoyed it, and the first line caught my eye so:

"Okay, let's face it, the majority of Tinder users are on the app for one reason and one reason only - to get laid!"

And yes, the little man brandishing his gnarled stick at the sun inside me began to cry havoc and stomp his feet, as I reacted angrily to how double-sided this article was. It's all just the men, she says, it's just them that do it, she says, men on Tinder want to fuck women and that's all they're there for. Meanwhile, the soft-padded little man inside waited patiently before reminding me:

"She's right, and you know it. But the other side of the cake has the same frosting."

So, in the interests of fair play, I've come up with a similar list of common traits I've found women to have on Tinder:
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Applying Business Practices to Stand-Up Comedy

When approaching projects in my employment, I put forth a variety of business practices that ensure I manage them on time and to budget within cost agreed to with clients and get them the product they require. But when it comes to stand-up comedy, I'm as guilty as anybody of treating it like any other hobby; whenever I get to it.

As it turns out, professional stand-ups have to treat their work like any other work: just like a business.

So, without further ado, here's the top ten practices I've learnt in business that I, as an aspiring stand-up comic, would apply:

1. It's all in the Planning
2. What are you doing today?
3. Research & Development
4. Dress for Success
5. Show up on Time
6. Create a Contact List
7. Networking, Networking, Networking
8. Marketing is Your Friend
9. Content is King
10. Learn to Fail

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VIDEO - #ThatsFunny at the All Star Theatre, Brackenfell, November 2014

Nelson's Personal Top Ten Commandments Slash Resolutions of 2015

In my vain quest to better myself, I wrote the "Nelson's Personal Top Ten Commandments Slash Resolutions of 2015", which I'm printing out and framing somewhere so it looks all cool and stuff:

1. Thou shalt be funnier
2. Thou shalt allow thyself more time for creativity
3. Thou shalt NOT be sequestered into banal activities that succumb thee to procrastination like "videogames" or "let's go visit my mother"
4. Thou shalt write some more, including another script. The wise sage Luc Besson wrote "Leon" in 2 weeks and that turned out fucking awesome.
5. Thou shalt return to a major inner-city comedy club to perform and make the proletariat laugh and giggle at new and fancy shit.
6. Thou shalt live in a palatial home with a marble...kitchen counter, and a functioning toaster.
7. Thou shalt NOT use said toaster, as thou hast denied thyself ALL carbs.
8. Thou shalt stay focused and driven...and by driven, meaning thou shall have sold thy motor-veHEEcle and opt for walking to thy abode of employment
9. Thou shalt continue to love those near thee, and remember to call at least one person a week for a chat and a debate.
10. Thou shalt love thyself...and remember that thou were the fastest swimmer out of a couple of trillion others that didn't make it.

Happy New Year for 2015, everybody.

HashtagThatsFunny - Comedy Photos from Saturday's Show

Post by HashtagThatsFunny.

Say what I mean...and mean it.

The two most terrifying things that could happen to me today are: a. getting arrested in Australia and b. a tweet from someone famous.
— Nelson de Gouveia (@nelsonscomedy) August 14, 2014

"You're really brave to say the things you say." And Bill smiled.

I read that and was amazed at that observation. Bill Hick's autobiography, American Scream, opened my eyes up a little. Has that been my failing all along, that I've not been talking about what's really inside me?

I've noticed the greats are doing that; Bill Hicks talked about his passion for an America he hated, "I'm gonna overthrow the government and replace it with a democracy.". Richard Pryor was open about his failings, "Nothing like setting yourself on fire to make you realise you're in deep shit." Louis CK, in paying tribute to George Carlin and what he learnt about being a writer, "I have to dig deeper everytime I throw away old shit to find something new to talk about."
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Saying Goodbye to Robin Williams...wish I had said hello first.

So, Robin Williams has passed away from an apparent suicide.

And we're all sitting around on our phones, our computers and our tablets on our couches, by our desks, in the car while the mom's driving you to school, or you're experiencing a near-fading experience listening to your CEO droning on about the four C's that'll drive productivity forward, as we read the how's and the why's about Robin Williams.

And Robin Williams, the human being that brought us the best version of alien you could get in Mork and Mindy, an unforgettable Genie in Alladin, the uplifting voice of reason in Good Morning Vietnam, the aspiring teach in Dead Poets Society, the deadbeat in The Fisher King, or even the creepy guy in One Hour Photo, amongst all the numerous standup routines and countless other characters per minute he portrayed, is today and for all time not breathing.
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I painted my nails pink yesterday

I painted my nails pink yesterday.

 

It started as a friendly game with my love interest as she straightened her hair, and I looked at the nail polish she had on her table. I picked it up and wondered, "What would she say if I started painting my nails pink?"

We had just returned from a brunch meeting about our relationship, highlighting our differences while keeping our emotions from flying. We intended to be upfront and straight with each other but, I'll admit, it's pretty hard. I keep everything close to me, I couldn't admit being the soft one when the man in me should be huffing and puffing his chest around like a baboon with a huge erection.

Ok, I'm not a baboon.

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I wake up to Louis CK...and I'm not ashamed of it.

For years, the sound I've used to play on my phone to wake up me up every morning has usually been the standard tones Apple adds preinstalled for the iPhones they've created...from the wistful yet semi-annoying "Bells", to the utterly annoying and relationship-destroying "Radar" that, on many an occasion, an elbow has connected with my ribcage by an irate girlfriend who has already tolerated a few hours of my awful snoring.

But then I discovered the ability to load Louis CK's "Shameless" as an MP3 onto my phone to listen to, and that's become my new wake-up call. Hearing the familiar white-noise HBO introduction, followed by a pattering of conversation before the announcer clears his throat and begins the performance with the familiar, "Ladies and gentlemen...Louis CK," to thunderous applause.

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Why I'm a Full-time Comedian...in my spare time.

You get off stage, having pummeled the crowd with joke after joke that kills, that murders, that slays. Backstage, you wipe your brow as the other acts pat your back and praise you for that quick turn when the heckler almost threw you off-course from the journey of self-exploration you were taking the audience through.

This is your job, this is what you live for.

And that's the vision I see most comedians that have pursued our line of work full-time experience many evenings as a full-time comedian.

Back at the farm, while the young comics emerging into the crowd open-mic circuit trying their luck to impress not just the crowd but the promoter in the hope they get a chance to return, some hardened comedians stand aside and watch as people below them begin to flower, while others above them live the life they dream, and I'm one of those.

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Becoming a Script-Writer

One day, in my short little life, I'd like the idea of someone saying, "Hey Nelson, I loved your script. Can I buy it from you?" or "Hey Nelson, can I produce your script for you?"

Throughout my career, I've heard of this wonderful little world where people hunched over type-writers or computers make an OK living out of ideas fleshed out in a step-by-step script that people will enjoy and, while I've dreamed of turning these ideas into reality, the truth of the matter is I don't have the time, patience or love of many friends to convert these into plausible videos or radio shows.

So I'm making them available to you for free. Here it is, there they are. Feel free to browse, read and be amused by them. Steal them, go ahead. I'll be proud to just have a credit and enjoy my work out there for people to see. Paul Arden encouraged people to give away their ideas in his book, "It's Not How Good You Are, It's How Good You Want To Be.", my motivational Bible and I'm following suit.

And if you want to buy the rights and make it the way you see fit, my contact details are right up there, go ahead and get a hold of me.

And this disclaimer, by the way, was encouraged by my comedy hero, Louis C.K.

You can find them over at my Scripts page by clicking the link, or follow the menu options above above, and I'll let you know via Twitter when new ones are available.

Did my parents teach me anything?

I'm pretty ok with money a lot of the times. When you're living by the seat of your pants every day your blood begins to boil at the sight of the petrol price rising up like cake flour, you tend to forget you have limited funds, and you venture off from the petrol station sulking that your idea of buying an iPad mini seems further and further away.

And then I thought, why didn't my parents teach me how to be good with cash? I mean, they did, to constantly save for a rainy day. In London, that's a silly notion to forget considering its island status, but the notion for never over-spending was drilled into me.

Forget that, I want to know how to invest.
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Hiding

Yes, I've been hiding.

I had a change in my circumstances so fundamental, I've just been both languishing and basking in its gloriousness for too long. I'm swimming in its rapture, I'm bathing in its golden light, and I haven't had the strength to kick just to break the surface and breathe in.
And it's been my excuse for a while now.

I'm 33 years old; it means nothing to most of you, some of you or ev en the ones that classify yourselves as "all of us", since really we're not all of the same age all at once. But I had given it up, just plopped on the couch and went, "Eh."

My dad did that and look, there he is staring at Portuguese television waiting to die.
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Remember Me?

I don't blog. I don't. A lot.

I do not so in the vain attempt that I look at my blog, stare at the screen for a few minutes, then realise I'm 4 hours into my work day and I haven't done a thing.

Today, I'm well aware I'm not done with my work, but I visited my blog and 15 people joined in to read.

Well, bully for me. Thank you.


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Armchair Sundays Comedy Show - Comedians' Photos

Post by Armchair Sundays.

To all my ex-girlfriends...(SERIOUS POST)

So, I know this will be perceived as a very narcissistic or self-effacing post, but as I struggle to understand my own hurtful behaviour, I feel I need to be brave and write it in public, not just for you, the person I wiggled my willy at, but to the public.

All this website really is, is a façade hiding a human being that doesn't know how to be with other people. I do comedy to break that barrier and promote not just the humour within me, but the exploration of a human spirit moulded into a consumer, a sponge, someone who takes and never gives back. And each day, I hate myself for doing that.

And today, I saw something specific by one ex-girlfriend that pained me, but a selfish pain, and I realised it's the same with every ex-girlfriend whose company I've had the privilege to enjoy, and I just feel that they deserve an apology.

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9 things I do when I live alone

Just discovered Lili Radloff's "9 things you learn when you live alone", a wonderful list of little things you do when you're alone in your abode. I like it, it's a wonderful piece featuring things she does which we relate to, etcetera, blah blah blah.

But my 9 things are a little different:

1. You tend to walk in after a long day at work, sit down in front of your desk, and realise...you have no internet. So you eat yoghurt and stare at the wall.
2. You switch off the geyser during the day because there's no one there...and forget to switch it on in the morning after being awake for an hour watching your favourite TV show you enjoy to forget why you're even there.
3. Your meals, that you make while naked, are increasingly simple and quick to make.
4. You forget to sleep on your own bed, with the couch increasingly convenient in front of the TV.
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REVIEW: "So...You Think You Can Love?" - Sonia Esgueira

"A Portuguese man, to the people of South Africa, is like a grizzly bear: hairy, growls and eats fish." - Nelson de Gouveia

Yes, that quote up there is mine, I'm a comedian and I'm Portuguese. I'm also a man living in a woman's world, if Sonia Esguiera's new one-woman play, "So...You Think You Can Love" is anything to go by. And it's hard to write this review objectively with my own credentials as they are, but thankfully there's no negative aspects to find in this one-hour circus; she's worked hard and the results are, well..."she's a good" as my father would say.

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What does my Dad dream?

As I hear the dragon-esque screams from the aeroplane flying above the home of my two terribly incongruent but tremendously loving parents, lying on my mom's bed as she's recovering in hospital from nose surgery and my father in the next room tucked away in his own slumber, I feel a moment of sheer terror as I begin to imagine these dark and twisted thoughts that would be running through his mind as he lays there…a man haunted by death.
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