THOM MILSON

I recently wrote an article for HOWL, about why HOWL do what they do. This article got me thinking about what I do, and why. I’ve never been able to really put the words together myself, but someone recently described to me what they thought of me, and what they said was perfect:

“The deeper meaning that I think lies behind what you say, think and do regarding your personal view on ‘how you live’ your life is that sadly, we all try to conform in some ways-to fit in and belong (which is one of our needs as humans) but, by ‘thumbing our nose’ at conventional behaviour, we test the boundaries of our own ‘nature’.

Ask yourself, why do your ‘experiences’ make people laugh out (or at least smile on the inside)? It’s because, your vulnerability to life and the experiences you share with your audience, make you a Human Being.

People dont like to feel they are imperfect, and constantly strive for perfection (or their perception of perfection) and by being ‘imperfect’, you touch that part of your audience that allows them to feel the vulnerability of who they are, and who we all are.

It reminds me of the quote: “to get something you never had, you have to do something you never did!” In other words, if we act, think, and say the same as we always have, nothing will ever change, and we will get what we have always had in our lives and nothing new.”

That quote was from my Mum.

Since I started doing comedy I have gained a lot of weight. I don’t know exactly how much because I don’t own scales, but it’s at least two t-shirt sizes. Why have I let this happen? Because it might have made me funnier if I was fat. I don’t know whether I just didn’t stop myself, or whether I did it intentionally. All I do know is that self-sabotage in the name of comedy has begun.

Gaining weight isn’t the only bad thing that has happened to me since I started doing comedy: I’ve started to go bald, I can’t hold my drink anymore, and I’m no longer afraid of being sick on someone. In short: I’ve come to feel at home with shame.

I haven’t even considered fixing what are clearly problems because I feel like they may lead to humorous anecdotes on stage.

I told a story on stage once about how I went on a date with a (now ex) girlfriend to a Pizza place. I’m lactose intolerant, which means Pizza makes me nearly shit myself: it’s just uncontrollable farts all night. Yet, when I went on this date I chose to eat pizza, knowing full well what it does to me. I did this, because I thought it might make a funny story to my friends.

Now I play to audiences, which means I want my stories to be bigger and funnier. Here are few examples of what I have done in the past year: signed up to charity for a girls number, consumed at least 3000 calories a day, drank myself into several stupors, talked back to abusive strangers, fallen asleep in alleys, visited all you can eat buffets on my own, bought glasses that make me look like a freak, and helped my niece cheat in a drawing competition (at least I think that’s what I was doing) and for what?

I’ll tell you what: for the sake of a joke.