Tacky Bitch

I am in a weird place in my life. Yes, I am still young. While not as painfully stupid as I used to be, I can still be so stupid I chew pebbles and wonder why they are crunchy. At the same time there is a lot I still do not know. Since moving to New York at the young age of eighteen, I have done a lot. My name is still not front and center, but I have done a lot.

I am what they call a Z lister. Sometimes I get recognized on the street. Yes, they know me as The Puppet Girl from TV. Sometimes they even have gotten a singing telegram from me. Sometimes they have seen a youtube video. Sometimes they have seen me onstage. Sometimes they have even read my book. Yet my bank account indicates none of this mind you. Anyway, I had a long weekend and found myself grungy and scrungy running around Times Square in my sweats. In this daring ensemble I found myself wandering aimlessly in Forever 21.

I looked at all the young people buying clothes and did like some of them. While I am not terribly young, I am not terribly old either. It’s a weird netherworld. Riding the escalators I thought of some of the theatre people in my home town because I will be doing a signing there in a week.

One was a production company that did musicals. The alumni of this place has gone on to national nonunion tours of various shows for low pay, and to stomp and whistle on various cruise ships around the world. Some have even worked at Disney. For the most part they are at the top of the small time. I remember one mother always had this painted on tan and wore these tacky high heels and sequin tops. She always looked like she was going to dance at a low class strip club where she would probably receive her paycheck in slimy quarters. She was a choreographer of some sort. Her daughter finished high school to work on a cruise ship and now is married with a kid. She still follows her dream by being the lead singer in a wedding band. I don’t know. She was always nice. Just never understood her mother’s fashion choice. A lot of the rinky dink musical theatre people were like that in my town. None of them ever worked in Vegas. None of them had ever seen Hollywood except for the sign in the movies. None of them had ever been on Broadway except to walk on it as a tourist in my fine city. The question is, why do they feel like they need to wear the costume pieces on the street? Not judging. Just don’t understand. Actually fuck it. I am.

One of my favorite dance teachers in college always looked sweaty and like she was worn out from a long day at the studio. A former Rockette who worked on Broadway, I don’t think I saw her in sparkles once. I also have met and known my share of famous people and worked with a few too. For the most part, on the street they are low key. It’s jeans, ball cap, sweats. They don’t have to announce their presence as performers. They don’t have to look like they walked out of the life story of Gypsy Rose Lee. Maybe it’s because they know they have made it and don’t need to prove their identity to the world.

As a Z Lister, someone who isnt quite invited to the party’s yet, which way should I go? Do I wear the ball cap and secretly rely on my own inner self worth to guide me? Do I assure myself that I am a good enough writer and comedian? Do I tell myself the sweats I wore to the studio all winter/spring to feel comfy in the cold to record my audiobook was good enough? Yes, the place where women came in dressed for the jiggle fest for the most part? Sweats and the ball cap make me take myself seriously when I wanna feel comfy.

On the other hand I show up relentlessly for my career. As a woman comedian, I work ten times harder than my male peers and only get a third as far. Not to mention I am only taken an eighth as seriously. Despite all my hard work, sometimes I am shafted because I am a woman or whatever else. For as hard as I try, sometimes things just don’t fall into place. Nothing is ever released on time in my time. As I get older I see the clock ticking. Yes, I have some fans who will live and die for me but I am not a household name. Do I break out the tacky outfits? Do I bedazzle myself? Do I get my high heels and paint on tan, strutting around and pretending to be a big star?

Today a barker for the club that fired me stopped me on the street. He tried to sell me comedy show tickets to the shit hole that fired me. An alum from a show I did a cameo on that has been cancelled was headlining. I remarked that her career has certainly nose dived. The barker didn’t know how to take my cynicism except to deny he was working and affiliated with the biggest shithole ever. Of course the barker kept saying this chick was on this show and that show which was a lie. Maybe she should invest in the tacky outfits, the bedazzler, the high heels, and just spray on that damn tan. Or maybe not. I heard through the grapevine she is nice. Too nice for that shiteous wardrobe choice. I will shave the skin cancer look a like contest for those I hate.

There was a part of me that when this idiot asked who I was, I wanted to reply, “Don’t you own a TV?” Part out of my still raw resentment from a club that worked me to death, got the best publicity from me ever, and then kicked me out like a homeless man camping out in the bathroom.

And when the barker asked my name. I told him April. He asked my last name. I told him April was fine. I should have said, “The name is April, but it is Ms. Brucker to you, Sir.” That is when I decided to walk away. While I am a Z Lister there is room to move up. I am not ready for the skin cancer looking spray on tan. I am not ready for the high heels that no one can walk in. I am not ready for the bedazzled sequins and bad hair. I am not ready to rip off my wardrobe from a Las Vegas show girl. I am not ready to pretend that I was something great, when I could still be something great. I know in my heart I am the real thing.

Yes, the sexism is stifling as the men step on my bones and the women stab me in the back making them feel equal. Yes, the male world makes me feel like I am not enough while the female world excludes me because apparently women who look  like me have some in. Yes, it is just another excuse to have a terrible attitude and to be a professional victim. Maybe I need new comedy friends, but the idea of friends is so foreign since I started to see some success. When the idea of support from my so called amigos was to spread rumors about how I got ahead, and throw all I had been through in my face. Who knows? Who cares? I know I am a smart, capable, career orientated woman.

Either way I am not ready to be a tacky bitch. So what I might walk around in sweats? If I am recognized by a fan they will recognize me because they like me, I am enough. If I feel like dressing crazy that is my business too. Yes, I am enough. That is my message to young people, especially young women. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You are enough.

Love

April

I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl

www.aprilbrucker.com

I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl

Download my audiobook https://itunes.apple.com/ne/album/time-i-was-nearly-white-slave/id727756232

Copycat

This is about a girl who makes things up in order to get people to read her shitty poety and listen to her shitty singing. She thinks it's turning heads but she has literally borrowed her life from TV movies and books. I know, because I know my TV movies and books. I have never met anyone more pathetic and phony in my life. So I wrote a poem about her, actually all the wannabes I ever met rather. Here it is.

A wannabe artist

Who owns a cat

One has a litterbox

Sincere it it’s feline exploits

The other insincere

Not real, pure fiction

Science fiction

An experiment gone wrong

A sad, long funeral song

To an identity she never had

And now wantonly steals

First a blonde

Now a red head

Whatever gets you in bed

With the phony man

Who gives you the phony lie you desire

Will you be the beautiful lady you desire?

The girl they all admire?

As you make up another tale for sale

With the angst you claim you have

With your made up backstory sans publicist?

What is this, the bipolar mother?

The lazy genius father?

Not true, why bother

To clear up the inconsistencies

In your story?

My family insanity you whine

As you down it with another glass of wine

Maybe you will drink yourself into obscurity

Because it takes talent to write poetry

Something you don’t have

You pray it will make you a popular writer

You hope it will make you a popular singer

As they say you are a dead ringer

For that girl and her style

Perhaps the next big thing.

Maybe it will make you popular behind the mic

Telling jokes, slamming words

Whatever you like

To boost your lack of self worth

But that too involves talent

Picked on in school, now were you?

Despite being tall and modelesque

That was your fate

You never struggled with your weight

This too is your borrowed tale.

What about your blemished skin?

Unless it was a blotchy disgrace

As you covered your face

But you are as smooth as a baby’s bottom

Actually, you are an ass.

Rough neighborhood oh you did that too?

I guess there were a thousand tales like it

Then there was you

Rich friend let you borrow her address

And then gave you money like Pip in Great Expectations.

A life put together like a trash novel

Ready to sell for a dime on the shelf

Borrowed stories from others

Because it is too hard to be yourself

In this mish mash called life.

A guy who chews you like gum because that’s all you are

Spits you out like dollar store food because that is who you are

Once Coney Island White Trash

Always the member of the lower class

Always on the bottom of my boot like soot

And we all know it including your man

Dirtier and more useless than old cleaning socks

Stomp you into the litter box

As you try to be like Robert Frost

Now go die a borrowed death as he rolls in his grave. 

April's Weekly Countdown

Okay, time for April’s weekly Countdown

Loser of the Week

This title goes to Tracy Morgan. Mr. Morgan, black hack and star of the NBC sitcom Thirty Rock made some homophobic comments onstage. He claimed he would stab his son if he ever told him that he were gay. Some comedians defended this as hyperbole. What I saw was pure hate. He would not have offended people if the energy behind what he said was not so nasty and hateful. Also, this is not Tracy’s first homophobic comment. A number of years ago it was reported in the Advocate that he said homosexuality was a choice. I have a large number of gay friends and am very protective of them as they were protective of me during one of the roughest times in my life. I have but one question for Tracy, why the fuck would you insult the people who run Hollywood. Yes the gays run Hollywood. They produce, direct, and run the networks. Not to mention they do your hair and pick your clothes. Why would you insult a group of people who controls who gets hired and fired and could make you look like dog shit if they wanted to. Now thanks to your big mouth Mr. Morgan, you will forever look like shit when you are on camera. Mr. Morgan, you have also had your issues with chemical dependency. What I am trying to say is ASSHOLE LAY THE OFF THE CRACK PIPE BEFORE YOU GO ONSTAGE. JUST A FUCKING THOUGHT!

A hateful moron in his natural state. Smile for the cameras your untalented crackhead.

Winner of the Week

Leonard Pope of the Kansas City Chiefs takes the winner of the week title by far. This NFL player was at a house party when a child was swimming in a pool. Suddenly, he heard the child’s mother screaming because the child was in distress and she could not swim. So Lenny was in the house chowing on some BBQ when he heard the screaming and sprung into action. Without hesitation, he scooped the drowning child out of the pool and made it possible not only to avoid disaster, but for a mother to continue to tuck her child into bed until he reached the ripe old age of eighteen and no longer wanted to sleep with his teddy bear. We love you Leonard Pope xo

Awesome work saving the drowning child. You may never get a superbowl ring but I will always be rooting for you.

Comedian of the Week

This award goes to Whitney Cummings. She is a former model and she is hot as hell. And not to mention funny. Whitney, I have a confession to make. I would want to beat your ass and rearrange your face except I love you and respect your work too much to do so. Therefore you are the comedian of the week.

Hot as hell and funny in the fuck me shoes. Love you much on this blog Miss Whitney

Song of the Week

Racks by Young Chris. I love that song and could hear it all freaking day. Not to mention it is catchy in a good way. Not like Katy Perry who makes me want to kill myself everytime I hear her on the radio. Russell Brand, you deserve better. But back to Young Chris, I love him and want to adopt him as my baby brother. May mentioned wanting to sleep with him. I think there is something we could work out.

MWAH! May wants to sleep with you but who would you choose Young Chris? She comes with handcuffs. I dont.

Guilty Pleasure of the Week

Okay, the title goes to Ke$ha. She is the poor man's Lady Gaga. In  a universe where McGaga would be coke, this bitch is cheap assed freebase crack cocaine. But who doesnt like a good crackhead missing a few teeth straight out the ghetto. I know I do. Gosh I love me some McKe$h Ke$h

It is appropriate your song is called Blow because I can't stop fucking listening. You are like a drug darling. Wrecking my hearing but I love every second

 Positive Step of the Week

This goes to comedian Andy Julia, my buddy and compatriot who recently signed to 222 Talent Agency proving perseverence and hard work as well as talent do pay off. Remember us when you are a big star Andy!

Go Andy, we love you!

Crazy Bitch of the Week

This weeks is a two way tie

I recorded a rap song not so long ago. It is about an ex of mine that has a new girl who tries to look like me, act like me, yet the bitch throws shade everytime she can. I saw the cunt rag the other day, yes the one who ripped my posters down, and she looks more like me than ever. Oh and she continues to say McNasty things about me. She claimed I was trying to break her and her boyfriend up when I don’t talk to her or that reject she shares a bed with! Oh and word on the street was the song made her cry. I hope she goes to the nearest bridge and jumps. I really don’t like her. She makes me ill. But the good news is the Ms. Wannabe video now has close to 700 hits and it keeps climbing. And I saw her too and she gained weight! I mean she was hanging over those pants. Maybe she will record another youtube video of her covering someone else’s song over the vocals because she can’t fucking sing. Or maybe she will have another brownie. Either way, here is the link to my diss song. Hey, it’s not easy being me. That’s why psycho bitch wants to do it.

Link to the Miss Wannabe video. Lets keep those views going up and the confidence of that dumb bitch going down shall we? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-VVnNNUvXSQ

Oh and the tie is another woman I know and dislike. She thinks she is hot shit because her man is big in the theatre. She goes to all these functions with him and talks about herself in third person. That wouldn’t be so bad except she acts like she is hot shit all the time and throws shade my way whenever she sees me. I have done nothing to this woman. Oh and did I mention she pulls out her titties and breast feeds her damn children in plain site? I have nothing against children needing to eat, and I have nothing against a woman’s choice to breast feed, but do it tastefully. Don’t whip your titty out, show us your aerola, and then let us see your little bastard guzzing titty juice. I do not want to go to second base with you and neither does the rest of the world you stupid, dumb bitch. Then she puts this video on the internet of her child swearing because she thinks it is cute. I would call child services but I think it would be fun to see how her kid grows up to be a hooker.

Hey bitch, this is what we all see when you whip your titty out. Did I mention this woman is hotter than your skank ass?

Loser Man of the Week

Okay this dude that I messed around with a few years ago is now kissing my ass because I have some TV time. Meanwhile this moron didnt treat me well when he had me and told me that my children and I would never have a chance at becoming famous with the art of ventriloquism let alone successful. Well now he is eating his words and kissing my ass. Sorry pal, I dont care if you have all the money in the world. When you dont tip a waitress I write you off FOREVER!

Of course it is. Why did you crawl back the second I got on the Today Show?

Favorite Comedy Bookers of the Week

Keith Godwin and Mike Parenti of ComedyToGo. They are not only good guys, but they give great oppertunities to new comedians in order to get stage time. Also, they have respected and funny headliners with plenty of TV creds on their shows. In addition Keith, who is in recovery, brings comedy shows to rehabs and Therapuetic Communities, the people who need to laugh the most. Not only are these shows fun, but they show that these two books don't just want to profit from comedy but truly love and respect the art form that they dedicate their time to.

Doing comedy for all the right reasons and being the best comedians to your event. Watch these guys rise and get in with the winners now!

New Friend of the Week

Nicho Mendez

Baby, I loved our jog in the park. Lets have some more. You are an inspiration and a positive force of life. Love you much xoxoxo

xoxoxoxo

Quote of the week

“I have so many girlfriends I am starting to wonder about my sexuality. Maybe I am a straight man in the closet.” Max Yochum.

You da man, quote of the week!

Fave new pic of myself of the week

Oh Octavia St. Laurent, if only you could see me now!