Katie Compa: Comedian

Eurotrip Stories

I had a great time during my month in Europe. I went to five countries and used twelve public transportation systems. I did a bunch of standup. I’ve had to unearth my old jeans to be decent in public, thanks to (among others) butter, pancakes, more butter, croissants, bread, cheese, pasta, and more cheese. Also, beer. Holla! I lost my internal fullness meter somewhere in Amsterdam under some pancakes. If you see it, please destroy it because I never want to see it again.

I’m just going to post random stories at random times, out of order, because if I try to go chronologically my brain will implode and no one will ever hear anything about this trip.

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Where the f@!# is Katie?

Dear you all:

On Wednesday I will embark on a month-long trip to drink most of English-speaking Europe dry. And also standup. More details below. If you can, come and see me! If you can’t come to a show, let’s still totally maybe hang out or whatever!

xoxo

Katie

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Our Little Theater Discovers Truth

• Bayou Bob: Does that work?
• Katie Compa: Being a white woman? Yeah. It's f*ckin' great.

Never noticed how cool this building is. Probably bc it’s next to a strip club. (Taken with Instagram at Market Street)

Inside Weird Al's Comeback

seankeane:

This article claims Weird Al is suddenly cool again - but stopped being cool from 1999 to 2006. This is a common theme in Weird Al journalism, and a similar story is written every time he releases a new album. People notice one of his new parody songs, and feel like he’s having a revival, when he’s actually just releasing an album every 2-3 years, just like always. And his primary fan base is still exactly the same - teenage boys - so it’s a constantly regenerating fan base. He’s like the Wooderson of novelty music - he gets older, but his fans stay the same age.

What brought Weird Al back in 2006? A parody of a Chamillionaire gave him street cred again:

“In 2010, a white guy rapping has become stale. It’s been done so many at time this point that it’s beyond cliché; it’s just annoying. But in 2006, the gimmick was still, well, gimmicky, and Weird Al used it to his benefit.”

White guys rapping was still novel in 2006? Fifteen years after Vanilla Ice - and even six years after Dynamite Hack - it was still hilarious. But now it’s played out. Unfortunately, the author does not weigh in on the pressing issue of whether rapping grandmothers are still fresh, but I have a feeling he’s a fan of incongruous profanity from old people.

Aside from his Lasik surgery and hairstyle, Weird Al is exactly the same as he’s ever been. He’s not really defined by the rules of cool or uncool; his entire career exists outside of that, like Leslie Nielsen’s acting career. That is, until he follows his destiny and finally writes a Broadway musical. It would probably have to be about a singing food critic, but it’s no dumber than a musical made up of Billy Joel songs.

No filters on this one, just what it looks like. (Taken with instagram at Pier 7)

Happiest bar on on Earth (Taken with instagram at Rolf’s)

THIS IS BEAUTIFUL.

missconceptions:

Blouses!

(Source: digisnax)

Stay classy, San Francisco! (Taken with instagram)

mikemonteiro:

They’re amassing their army and coming for me at a very slow speed. (by Mike Monteiro)

emilyheller:

Katie Compa and I have been naming our Scrabble games after the punchlines of SF comics.

Moving East: Too close for comfort.

So, I waited to break the news to my mom that I’m moving back to the east coast— or so I thought.

I had what I considered a foolproof plan. I’d call her, open with, “Okay! I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?” Obviously, she’d say bad news, because everyone says bad news, and I’d say, “Well, I won’t be able to come home for Thanksgiving this year. Sad, right? BUT, I’ll be home for Christmas, and then FOREVER!” Joy would ensue.

That’s not what happened. Instead it went like this:

Me: “Hi, Mom!”

Mom: “Hi. I’m driving around Santa Monica right now looking for parking so I can have lunch with Beth.”

Me: “Oh, that sounds fun.”

Mom: “Yep.”

Me: “So! I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”

Mom: [pause] “You’re moving back to New York.”

Me: [F***.] “…Did Beth tell you?”

Mom: “Yes. Thanks for keeping your Mom informed… although I guess that would mean you have to talk to me.”

Me: [pause.] “Well… I wanted to wait until it was for sure.” [Sidebar: You’re right.  I can’t imagine why I don’t talk to you more frequently when our interactions are this great. I certainly can’t wait to have 3,000 fewer miles between us.]

Mom: “Okay. Yeah. Can I call you back? I need to look for a parking spot.”

Me: “Sure.” [You are so going to get talked about onstage for this, and you’re going to deserve it.]

No joy ensued for either of us, I’m pretty sure. I did, obviously, gchat my sister in the middle of this with a hearty “WHAT the F*** were you THINKING?” Her response of “I didn’t know it was a secret” is flimsy at best. Still plotting retaliation.