(Photo by MJ Kim/Getty Images)

For the past year or so, in and out of @midnight episodes, I’ve heard him mention it, ”Come see me on the Funcomfortable Tour!”

Hitting just about every major US city and then some…but not mine. I started to wonder if our 4^th largest city had fallen shadow to the quirky and offbeat spots surrounding us and assumed we’d been overlooked for the tour. Finally, I heard those magical words on my DVR recorded episode, commemorated from days earlier….”Texas, I’m coming to you!” Surprised and excited, I quickly did my research. Performing at the UH Cullen Entertainment Center? Huh…interesting venue choice, but fine, we’re on it! Chris Hardwick AND April Richardson? Definitely….please! I pressed The Woodlands Journal’s editor quite a bit until I finally retrieved approval to reach out and ask if we could cover it. When you find the voices behind your spot on the generation calendar, you just relate. Nothing more, nothing less, just a comfortable place to be.

Lucky enough to have had my tall, dark and handsome hubby at my side for this one, we set out on our journey to downtown from our quaint little township north of the city. The University of Houston is a mere 30 miles away from The Woodlands and remarkably, not much longer in actual clocked minutes of transit once rush hour had cleared out, despite the comedians’ experience earlier that morning in our big city. As Chris eloquently put it, “….Houston, Texas, a city whose freeways are made oddly shaped like a butthole…”

We arrived to the University campus quickly, but not pain free. I was informed that there was no music available in our car at the moment, so my so very sweet and enthusiastic husband insisted on filling the silence with repeated outbursts, “watch me whip…..watch me nay-nay!” Days later, this ridiculous anthem still has its magnetic, torturous hold on my brain and like a bad habit, I can’t shake it. (and I think I kind of want to hear the original again, just one more time?!)

Upon landing in the vast and spacious territory of the campus, we were pretty much confused on where the theater was and where to park our car. Had I thought a bit more ahead, I would of clicked on any of the various, helpful “PARKING” or “VENUES” tabs located at the top of the UH Entertainment webpage. There were literally people flowing from all directions making their way to their own happy destinations. Most were young, athletic and looked absolutely in place, while some wondered around as if they were transplanted from another space in time, appearing to be equally confused about their whereabouts as I was. We asked random people for directions and got random answers. Finally, using our very own impressive scouting skills, we found the one and only place to park for off-campus visitors and we shuffled quickly towards the theater.

Almost in, we were immediately stopped by security with fierce urgency about the camera we were wielding. Understandable, we hadn’t yet been granted permission for  a photography media pass to accompany our tickets, but we hadn’t yet been told no either. We knew we’d have to jump this hurdle, but weren’t so much ready for all of the yelling and intensity. This very major offense ramped up the dead eyed security guards as they shouted across the way at each other to let us in or not. (Given my husband’s ethnic background, I’m sure there’s a clock bomb joke in there somewhere, but I’ll move along.)

Our next step was to acquire the tickets from the will call booth and inquire about the photography pass. More questions, more scrutiny….ended with a bargain of management holding on the camera for the duration of the event. Don’t get me wrong, I totally understand the situation and we were more than happy to comply. With that being said, the following photos of the comedians have been created by yours truly and my husband, the ever inventive photographer, to replace those possible photos from the show.

Ahhh….finally safe in our comfy, red, worn theater seats! Grunge anthems from the 90’s played in the background with staples like Smashing Pumpkins, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Blind Melon and the likes. It was a comforting and soothing break from the “watch me nay-nay” rotations that were circulating in my head. The guys next to us casually spilled a beer down the sloping theater floor and played it off like nothing happened. The liquid finally reached the feet of some folks who immediately tried to locate the source and I gave my best “I didn’t do it!” look and adverted my eyes sideways to point them in the direction of the culprits. I looked around to find various types of people in all age ranges eagerly waiting the show. There were a few unjustly empty seats still available behind me, and I found myself actually getting upset about it. (Those dummies don’t know what they are missing!) The lights dimmed and a voice that “is most certainly not Chris Hardwick’s” addressed the crowd and introduced the charming April Richardson to the stage.

Immediately, I loved her outfit. I really dig her ‘casual pin up, crossed with thrift store finds’ style and totally related as she constantly pulled and tugged at her bright red pencil skirt. She opened up with a little bit about herself and where she’s from(Georgia) and continued with relatable quips about Southern Moms and how other geographical spots in our country view us in all of our Southern glory. She noted that the heinous act of wearing white after Labor Day, a crime in which I had committed that very night, is pretty much the worst thing a Southern woman can do. I had confessed my atrocity to my husband earlier who was now laughing and pointing at me. (He’s just the best!) She continued to spend plenty of time talking about her Mom and Step Dad and his magnificent “mouth curtains” and we all felt right at home with her.

She explained how they aren’t really fans of her particular style of comedy, quoting, “You’re no Jeff Foxworthy!” after she inquired if they would come to her show when she was in Georgia. Evidently her Mom is still having a hard time accepting her career choice, meanwhile I wonder what would we do without her? I always perked up when I saw her on the Chelsea Lately and @midnight panels and now I can proudly say I’ve seen her stand up in person. Her direct and personable brand of story-telling comedy resonated with the crowd and there was definitely no shortage of laughter.

Before she closed, she spent a good 10 minutes talking about “dude” who she recently broke up with due to his infidelity. The entire story was beyond  entertaining as she walked us through the different stages from finding out about it to working with the other girls in the love polygon to gain conquest over the two-(four, maybe more?) timing impostor. Apparently this guy was in the Army-Special Ops, someone who is “trained specifically in secretly killing people” and the fact that he is technically “an assassin for the government” thwarted their opportunity to publically embarrass him for his crimes. The jaded girls conspired to shame him, creating a fake Match.com account of the most imaginary girl ever, “a hot red-head….lawyer by day, who plays upright bass at night,” and tricked him into a meeting at a local bar with plans to eventually storm in and take him down.  She noted after a bragging call to BFF, Mr. Hardwick himself, he warned, “Hey, maybe you guys don’t back a trained killer into a corner?” Oh yeah….why didn’t we think of that? I really wanted this bastard and his misshapen penis to go down!  They eventually just watched the humility from the windows of the securely confined metal safe room in the parking lot as he stormed out of the building unable to locate his new side piece.

I think we can all just be thankful she’s still here to tell the story.

Her set seemed over too quick, but it had reached the time for our beloved headliner to grace the stage. Chris bounced out excitedly and I was a bit taken off guard by his high energy. On TV, he seems fairly mellow, although I have now pieced together those silly random outbursts from @midnight to be a pretty good representation of his stand up style. He immediately dove into jabs at Houston, which we could all agree were 100% legit. After the hilarious aforementioned anal-ogy of our freeway system, he went on to describe his nightmare of transitioning from the airport to the rental car facility in which employees seem to roll in and out on their own accord, paying no head to pesky schedules. He made reference to our absolutely awful radio stations (not you, Boom 92, you keep on keeping on!) with their equally awful music selections, attributing late 90’ rock bands like Staind to the sound a penis would make if it could sing.  He moved on to talk to about children and his lack of desire to have any and even those of us with children could definitely relate. He explained how he might describe the birds and the bees to a kid with a rant that ended in “warm vagina bath.” Oh, you just had to be there. The girl in the front row with a recent hysterectomy was and that made for some great improvisation as he chatted with her throughout the show.

Chris had now moved on to talking about his relationship with new fiance, Lydia Hearst, whom is of wealth that “us mouth-breathers don’t know that kind of…..it’s a sick amount of money.” I won’t lie, I had to google her to find out more. (Yes, I am happy under my rock so back off!) Okay, got it….”heiress of great grandfather Hearst’s publishing fortune” (thanks Wikipedia!) but more importantly, philanthropist, model, actress, blogger (lovelydiahearst.com) and all around nice, girl next door type…..if your door is on a house in Beverly Hills. He continued with stories of overseas travels with his bride to be and poked fun at the worldly accents they encountered ,which led him to a hilarious bit about his own genetic background.

His mother is half Italian and half Cherokee, but he “somehow ended up looking like a tumblr page of ranch dressing recipes.” With “white, Tennessee redneck hobo-billy” genes coming from his Dad, Chris explained how he ended up so fair skinned. “So the white genes in me do what white genes do best, which is suppress all of the minorities.” Oh my God, brilliant. He bridged over to his issues with anxiety by explaining how his has mother instilled fear in him, leaving him with a “crippling fear of heights,” that could have possibly driven his beautiful lady away if she wasn’t so damn cool. “Panic attacks are not good foreplay.”  Apparently they are just fine with Lydia, she did say yes after all.

Here it came in, like a breath of fresh air, he begun to talk to about his Dad. His dead Dad. This was unexpected, and I was eager to hear where he would go. For one reason, I have also lost a parent and struggle with how to talk about it and others no doubt, struggle to mention anything related to it around me. It’s not a great place to be on the ass end of pity. The other reason being that I was sitting there, no DVR this time, it was as live as it could be reaching from LA to Houston, when he told to Walking and Talking Dead fans all over of his Dad’s passing. I remember my heart breaking for him, and now here I was, reliving that day along with him.

“We gotta talk about it….people fucking die….it’s alright, you can make fun of it. It’s the only thing we can do, that’s why we have a sense of humor. You know, I don’t really feel like anything’s offensive, it’s how we deal and process the world and it’s okay, it’s okay.”

He goes on to note his anguish on the day he found out, but only to set up his next joke in which he was hoping for sympathy butt sex from his girlfriend at the time. (The male libido never ceases to amaze me). He talked about how people process death with the survivors and the awkward moments when folks don’t know what to say, as well as the outrageous costs of funerals, illustrating verbally and with undulation much more fitting ways to send his Dad off. One favorite suggestion was using the 20 grand to run a Mercedes carrying his deceased Dad, with a cinder block on the accelerator, into a shack of fireworks. Sounds pretty epic to me. The audience was then treated some really great stories about this “super fun guy,” and it was an awesomely hilarious tribute to the man that helped mold Chris Hardwick into the damn fine comedian he is today.

The last leg of the set was dedicated to a collection of poop and urinal jokes, Walking Dead fans, social media and audience interaction. Eventually he actually jumped from the stage to the pit section, talking to fans and climbing from vacant chair to vacant chair when he noticed an entire row of unoccupied seats. “Look at this, I shouldn’t be able to do this! Where the fuck did these people go?!” I was left with wonderment as well, and my own brain hit the Rolodex of saved favorite jokes and selected a Mitch Hedberg joke about a missing family for a bonus laugh.

Without our knowledge, he began to wrap up with bits about generational humor explaining the gap between Generation X and the Millennials and finished with the very best Tom Hardy as Baine impression ever. Already introduced earlier in the set, he hits it home with a complete rendition of “Wanted Dead or Alive” as sung by his new character, Jon Baine Jovi and it’s just as awesome as you could imagine. The crowd showed their excitement and appreciation with a much deserved standing ovation.

Once the music had faded and Chris made his exit from the stage, we made our way out of the theater doors to collect precious photography equipment and prepare for our journey back to the now fan-ridden, humid and steaming parking lot. The irritating process of escaping that concrete sauna hardly killed my comedy-induced buzz and I was still smiling and content as we made our way back home in our quiet car on our taint-ed highways.

“…watch me whip, watch me nay-nay.”

Dear God, help me.