LCS 2010: New York Day 2

This week's sponsor: Hebrew National Hot Dogs. Because we're in New York? And a housepaint that eliminates odors you don't even know you have. At last I have something to cover up the smell of that dead squirrel behind the paneling.

This week's montage: Jew jokes, from humdrum stereotypes to the anti-Semitic. These seem to be told mainly by gentiles, and Andy no like. I'm more or less with Andy. Ethnic/racial humor told by people within the ethnicity/race can be funny and sharp. (It can also be lazy and trite.) Told by people outside the group, such humor trends offensive.

We're shown a few people who audition but don't make the evening show: a comedy robot (who probably deserved better; he seemed to have at least as much potential as the gorilla-costumed Mel Silverback from a few years back); a mock religious couple whose ironic gag triggers the montage described above; and a couple of other forgettables. On to the evening show!

Kyle Grooms auditions with an OK Obama impression, but he's better in the evening show, making fun of his own name ("Kyle" is not a name to intimidate anyone) and glasses. He gets a ticket to the semi-finals.

Nikki Glaser tried the show four years ago and wasn't ready. This time she brings some pretty good relationship humor. She tells about public displays of affection making her jealous; one time she was getting seriously cheesed off with one couple—the guy was carrying the woman—until she realized he was putting her into a wheelchair. Nikki gets a ticket.

Jerry Rocha, a Latino from Dallas, lays on the ethnic humor. He says he's thirty-two and dating a twenty-year-old girl, which makes him older than her parents. Which is both offensive and pretty damn funny. He goes to semis.

Traci Skene goes with the relationship jokes. In her audition she suggests that if hair care products are meant to attract men, they should smell like meat. (Maybe "bacon" would have been a funnier word choice for her.) In the evening show she tells about doing a comedy gig during a snowstorm. The audience is all married couples who have nothing better to do; all the unmarried couples are at home having sex. No ticket for her; I have to believe she just missed the cut.

Ryan Hamilton from Idaho jokes about New Yorkers' ignorance of the interior; anyone not from the East or West coast must be from the Midwest. He gets a ticket.

Calise Hawkins talks about being a bad single mother—she has a three-year-old. Unfortunately the bad mother slot has already been filled, so Calise is done.

Myq Kaplan's boob joke is apparently enough to get him to the semis.

Brian McKim has a funny/gross bit about his flu shot giving him license to, say, lick the buttons in an elevator. He gets a ticket. By the way, he's married to Traci, who didn't get a ticket. No sex for him tonight.

Carmen Lynch tells about her therapist warning her not to regress, saying as illustration, "After all, you can't put the egg back in the chicken." Now she's obsessed with getting a chicken and trying to shove an egg into it. Her deadpan style is very funny, reminding me of Aubrey Plaza of Parks and Recreation. She goes to semis.

Mike Vecchione tells sports jokes. We think of drugs and sports going together, but cocaine and fishing is a no-go. He also has a funny observation about the fencing uniform (something about beekeeping). He gets a ticket.

Rob O'Reilly probably thinks too much. His audition is about puns, and in the evening show he insists you can compare apples and oranges—they're both fruit, after all. Not funny enough for the semi-finals.

Jason Weems questions Magic Johnson's claim (at Michael Jackson's memorial) that eating chicken with Jacko was the best moment of his life. He gets a ticket. That makes two comics using Michael Jackson's death as a career stepping stone. Such a brutal business.

Adrienne Iapalucci portrays herself as a kid-hating racist, but in a funny enough way (she avoids blacks on the street, which is a problem when she runs into her black boyfriend; she doesn't beat kids, but she can make 'em flinch) to move on to the semis.

Nick Cobb's audition (whispering is creepy) is as funny as his bit on the evening show (for men, getting down on one knee is good; two knees is bad; with many illustrations), and he gets a ticket.

That's eleven winners tonight. On to the semi-finals next week.

I had thought there would be a show devoted to auditions by special invitees (people not from Los Angeles or New York), but apparently those folks were seeded into the LA and NY shows (hence the comics from Texas, Idaho, and other parts). I wonder if the show paid for their transportation. Or perhaps they were told they had a very solid shot at the semis if they brought something close to their A games.