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7/29 - Broadway Comedy Club NY, NY 10p.m.


Hot Dog? I'd Settle for a Warm Dog.

It's ten degrees tonight. It's that kind of weather where neighbors worry that their pipes will freeze, their windshield wipers will snap, and their perennials won't come back. But then you always have that one asshole in the neighborhood who could give two shits about his dog and leaves him outside. Like all of a sudden every breed turns into an Akita and can brave a frozen flippin' tundra because he has a three-sided plastic dome that looks like an igloo. It is driving me crazy because this barbaric crap is all legal. A dog needs two things: shelter and thawed water. There is no attention to type of dog. A short-haired pug has the same requirements as a Saint Bernard. Amazing right? So throw your Shih Tzu outside folks. That dog is descended from wolves pal. 

I think I finally found a scenario that I can't make funny. Bring your freakin' dog in. So I can get some sleep.

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"Let us always meet each other with a smile, for a smile is the beginning of love." - Mother Theresa

I saw a Mo Rocca interview Jon Stewart on CBS's Sunday Morning show. When asked what he would be like if he hadn't married Tracey, Stewart replied, "I'd be much unhappier. She has the capacity for real warmth and love. She's able to help me experience that." I know what he means. I now live vicariously through a more evolved person as well. 

My Valentine made wonderful plans for us today. Then I got two gigs. Then I gave her the puppy dog eyes. Then she said "I will be there. Loving you. Supporting you. And spending time with you. Besides the one at night sounds fun. I like the vibe at the Irish Pub." What? That's right. No pouting. No eye rolling. No "I can't believe..." It was at that moment that I realized that I had found my girl. Because listen to me fellow comedians. When you find someone who is willing to let you get out of a wine tasting in a Victorian town to go into the hood where the specialty of the house is Irish Car Bombs, on Valentine's Day, hold on with all your might. Also if you are dating someone who doesn't know what an Irish Car Bomb is, dump them immediately. They don't understand you.

In my defense. We did meet at one of my gigs. So she knew upfront that I had the sickness...I mean the calling. For anyone normal reading this you might not know. When you have the performance bug, when you are a true artist, you want to do your craft more than anything else. I left a cocktail party at the Palm restaurant with free top-shelf everything once just to drive an hour away, in the snow, to do my friend's radio show at midnight in East Jabip, for free. I mean you heard banjos outside of this Fotomat-looking radio station. Believe me the  bum panhandling outside restaurant at the party that night had more listeners than this show did on its best day. But that didn't matter. Not at all. The person I was with didn't understand how I could leave the Palm with the Grey Goose a flowin'. That's not wrong. She just doesn't have the sickness...I did it again...the calling.

My wish for everyone in my life is that they find their person, the one that understands them, their soft place to land. The one that gets why you do all the stupid shit you do. I did. I even found someone who understands the sickness but doesn't have the calling. That's a lottery win for me. She bought me head shots and a web designer for me for Christmas for Christ's Sake. That's right. She bought me a person. And if that isn't love, I don't know what is. 

Happy Valentine's Day Baby.

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Cleveland, Melbourne, Sri Lanka In That Order!

I hate to give them a Google hit. So I won't use their name. Yes. I am well aware that the 19 people who read this will not bring down an evil empire. But still. Principles man. Anyway when I was little I was amazed at the bags I saw leaving the gift shop of this famous oceanic theme park that was 20 minutes from my house in the burbs in Ohio. The bag had the three locations of sister parks: California, Florida and Solon, Ohio. Huh? It just looked so weird to me. The other places seemed like such paradises compared to my modest East Coast existence. 

Well that same feeling happened again via the Facebook news feed (Thank you cousin Sherri). Buzz Feed has a post of 16 Spectacular Places To Travel In 2015. And there was Cleveland at #10. Ranking after Singapore and China's Silk Road. But solidly edging out Oman and Guadalupe Valley. So proud.

When the Travel Channel is full of exotic places to visit and we fill our vacation fantasies with far away port of calls, it is easy to forget what is right in front of your face. I remember being at Squire's Castle with my friend Jennie when we were in high school. I wonder if she has been back. Our Metro Parks system rocks! As does the rest of Cleveland. I always tell my NYC friends that they would love Cleveland. It is a tiny, clean, and friendly version of their beloved metropolis. We have all the major sports teams, great dining, water and even casinos. Cleveland to New York City is as Monopoly is to Atlantic City. Go Browns!

Unfortunately right now my family is enjoying another landmark - University Hospital. It is there that my dad is recovering from a stroke. Thanks Sherri for helping out my mom while I am in Jersey. Like I said. It is easy to forget the good things that are right in front of your face. This is the upside to being Catholic. When the shit hits the fan the cousins come out of the woodwork. Thank you family.

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Oh, You Didn't Specify.

So I am sitting here Bally's having a bite to eat. When thought crossed my mind. You need to be very careful what you ask the universe for. Because baby it delivers. But I am also learning to respect the deep sense of humor with which it opporates too. Now we have all heard the phrase "Be careful what you wish for." I know. But it is really true. Plus the universe loves irony like I love a single malt with a side of jalapeño poppers. The kind with cream cheese not cheddar.

Ask for travel? My dad had a stroke today in Cleveland and I may be leaving. Ask for more exposure? I just got a call from a radio show host who booked me on Saturday thus thwarting my Valentine's Day plans. Luckily for me I was born with the comedian gene. Which means I would rather work than go out like a normal person. I remember seeing a clip of Jerry Seinfeld saying how he and Jay Leno were laughing at a comedian who said he needed a vacation. What? The idea was ludicrous to those two. 

It's weird to me to think that Jay and Jerry are pals. Talk about opposites. The funniest man in America hanging with the unfunniest man in America. I'm not going to say who's who either. Because I have been asking the universe for a mentor forever and I don't want to burn any bridges. I know from experience. The only thing you need to be more careful of than what you ask for is what you put in writing.

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A Perfect Match...3

Hi. I'm Michelle. And I'm a Crushaholic. That's right. Level 471. You are only as sick as your secrets. 

I had what I thought was going to be a lasting intervention when the Heartbleed virus prevented me from connecting to Facebook...oh sorry I meant the Kingdom. It was just what I needed. I was out. I had moved on. No more. But I just could not delete the app. All that progress. Down the drain. I couldn't do it. I justified it. What if someone else wants to play the levels I unlocked? What if I get stuck at the airport? What if my friends need a ticket? It made sense at the time.

So after months of being on the wagon, I'm back. The worst part about it is I know the secret. No not The Secret. Well I know that one too. Think positive blah blah blah. I'm talking about the secret that all these flippin' games are the same! Whether it's butterflies, or gems or you guessed it, candy. You match three things and they disappear just like CC, sweet vermouth and a cherry on my birthday.

It makes me angry to think about it. How mindless do we want our entertainment? Apparently a lot. The "genre" if you can call it that is called Match 3. There is even a! The App Store has 129 of these addicting mind melters. What parts of our brains are still alive enough to demand such variety? What is going on? Although I gotta tell ya'. It is nice to hear a deep-voiced stranger call me "divine" in the middle of the day. AHHHHHH! I can't stop. I need help. Somebody send me a life...and a ticket.

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Blog Author

Michelle Tomko's comedy is a fervent blend of tomboy sensibilities courtesy of the older brothers she grew up with in the Midwest and the barrage of perimenopausal chaos the East Coast world has heaped upon her. She pulls her humor from everyday observations and classic stories of family, travel, pets, and adversity. With razor-sharp crowd work and improvisational skills to the rock-solid timing of a veteran performer, Michelle’s act is not to be missed!

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