Jeff and I are finally done with our tour of duty as MCs of the comedy tent at All Points West. It was a very stressful, very wet, very fun few days and I hope we get to do it again next year.

The best thing I saw the entire time - besides the beautiful face of Vinny Chase backstage - was a woman so fucked up that she dropped a cigarette in a pile of mud, water and goose shit and still picked it up to keep smoking.  That bespeaks equally the power of whatever drug she was on and also the power of nicotine addiction.  I also saw that amazing Jesus tattoo which I’ve posted below.

We also got treated pretty well by the festival.  Our wristbands gave us access to pretty much anything we wanted (except the VIP tent) and we tried to make liberal use of that.  I watched a few bands from backstage even though it sounds far worse, just to be able to say I did it.  The last day we also found this secret artist’s area that had real food and free drinks galore.  All of the bands were set up back there in a little “village” but Coldplay had their own town of trailers a few yards up the path.  I guess it’s good to be the headliner.

And speaking of good, every comic that went up on the comedy stage did amazing.  The crowd went from huge to small, from happy to angry, it really changed by the minute and each comic read the situation and killed.  It was at once inspiring and intimidating to see how Judah Friedlander or Todd Barry or Jim Jefferies could go on stage to a wet, pissed off audience and have them screaming with laughter in a minute flat.  And speaking of Jim Jefferies, that dude is the coolest.  Really, the coolest.

However, the main theme of the weekend was not comedy, it wasn’t even music, it was mud.  The mud there was insane.  Jeff made a funny observation about how our parents would be so disappointed in us for all our whining about the mud.  When they had a big concert and it turned into a mud-pit, they rolled with it.  We tweeted our dissatisfaction.  Each day on the way into the festival there was a trail of discarded sandals, sneakers and jeans.  It was like following a trail to the greatest orgy on earth except when you reached the end there was no orgy, just a two-square mile field of cow shit stinking muck.  Oh well, if my shoes had to die so that I might have enjoyed the Grey Goose tent, so be it.

Here’s my sister, enjoying the mud.

At the end of the day, despite the delays and the rain and the often poorly comminicated plans (Jeff and I would have been screwed were Jess, our producer, not there to sort out all the bullshit), I thought it was a blast.  I don’t often get to feel important and this weekend gave me a tiny glimpse into the life of what being in a famous band is like.  After all, the security and staff at this place had no idea we were comedy so they just treated us as if we were in one of the bands.  Let me tell you, I could get used to it.  So I will announce now that I am leaving behind my career in comedy to pursue one as a famous musician.  I need to lose about 120 pounds, start growing my hair and go shopping for new, tighter clothes.  Would anyone like to be my heroin dealer?  Email direct if so.