I'm trying to decide if I should make this sound biographical or autobiographical. I know me, and it won't sound like either. It might sound like whiney arrogance or false modesty. It's not that. It simply, IS what it IS...and if I had to do it all over again...I'd change a lotta shit! I started in the '80s with a group called ComedySportz and I'm still with them. We're Milwaukee, Wisconsin's oldest improvisational group and probably the longest-running improv show in the country, if not the world. I realize the arrogance of that statement, but I don't think I'm that far from right. We've been at it for 23 years and, in spite of the inevitable, we're still standing and expanding. I was there when we were paid with attention, not a check. No complaints. Any expertise that I convey onstage is directly attributable to ComedySportz and the thousands (yeah, thousands) of shows that I've done with them. No one could ever put a monetary value on this. But I wish they'd try! My progression from group comedy to stand-up was natural enough for me, and I've had my share of struggles, both personal and professional, but I don't feel rained on. If you don't recognize falling, you won't recognize flight. I won't bore you with the litany of "one-nighters" and clubs..in short, I may be new to you, but not this. When I'm on stage, no one is thinking "Where's Dane Cook?" Or maybe I am delusional and that's ALL they're thinking, but they told neither me, nor the club owners. I've worked with comics such as Nick DiPaolo, Anthony Clark, Will Durst, Happy Cole, Larry the Cable Guy, Billy Gardell, and Lewis Black, all of whom will speak favorably of me (or I'll never be in a position to pay back the money I owe them). A'ight, nuf-sed, if you want to see me or know my whereabouts, check out the dates listed on this page or on my website: briangreencomic.com. If you want to do more than kick my comedic tires, you can reach me through Barbara Christensen on her myspace page. (She's in the "number one" position of my "Top" Friends.) She'll see to it that you can see me with my game-face on. May God bless her for putting up with my past and future crap..there will be plenty. Gotta go, this crowd ain't gonna disappoint itself.
Who I'd like to meet: I'm Brian to my friends, Brian Green to aquaintences, Dad to my daughter, Uncle Brian to my nieces and nephews. I'm that guy sitting next to you in church and court, smiling, for the most part, in either case. I'm the one in front of you in line at the supermarket that you think looks familier, but you're not sure where from enough to strike up a conversation. I'm the one that you looked at coming out of a movie we saw individually, but laughed mutually, at inappropriate times. I made eye contact with you when you slipped on something in the darkness of the marsupial house at the zoo. I too hate possums. We glared at each other, inadvertantly,during a traffic jam when we discovered it was just a car pulled over. Remember the look on your face when you ate that "we-dare-you-to-taste-it" flavored ice cream, I do. I touched your hot dog at the Cubs game. You made faces at my daughter in that restaurant, she lauhged... I had the curious urge to hold your hand on the elevator and my face said as much. I held the door while you took out your garbage. When you were walking toward me in the mall and I stared, briefly, at your t-shirt trying to decipher it...I was looking at your breasts. I also checked out your butt. Nice! I noticed that tear in your eye at the Humane Society. That's the only time puppies and kittens make us sad. You gave me the nod on the pair of black jeans when indecision was keeping me company... I'm Brian, and we've already met.
Hey Brian, How's it going? Hopefully, you kicked off the New year right! Anymore news on the baby-mamma drama? How about next time you're in court, you bring a Ouija board and channel the ghost of Johnny Cochran s your lawyer...see what kinda rhymes a dead-guy can bust out...'see, the woman has a bit of a glitch/turns out she's quite the...' ya know, can't really think of a rhyme for the word glitch that might describe certain types of females. Well, now I can fully understand why i wasn't allowed to join NWA!
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