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Another year. Another contest.

Here’s a set I did at Cap City in April 2014.
Set filmed by

Check it out:

Thanks for watching.

Generation ZZZZZzzzzzzz (snore) - May 13, 2013

I have a recent set to upload here.

Austin, TX - April 29, 2013

My set for the Funniest Person in Austin contest 2013.

Many thanks to Dustin and Jen at Voltaic Video for their great work.

Until next time.


A New Hat, Revisited - February 11, 2013

I’m re-posting this story I wrote four years ago. Some insight: I was torn over what to name this article. It was a tough fight between, “A New Hat,” and “Star Wars Forty-Four: A New Hat.”

Hope to see you all with bells and whistles on, mostly to scare away all the bears after the bearpocalypse.


The scent of pure ambrosia sang sweet melodies in my nostrils. The warm hum of the mid-morning sun sang vivaciously in my ear canals. All around me the the dew soaked blades of perfectly trimmed greenery gave way to a lust with nature I had never before realized. It was then I first discovered I would one day marry nature, and bear fourteen children with it. Proud, though I am of these accomplishments, I would never hold more supreme delight as I did the night I first deflowered my sweet Terra.

We had an off-and-on thing for the first few years. Late night phone calls that would last forever, it seemed. Unrestrained laughter at each, and every one of our jokes. With each passing day our being of pure lust grew larger, and more expansive. Finally we consummated our romance one spectacular mid-morning when I rolled over onto an aperture and dry-humped it.

They say all good things must come to an end though, and our romance was no different. It began first as a stream of lighthearted sarcastic remarks which eventually emptied into a sea of resentment, and finally followed the straits of disgust into the ocean of, “I can’t believe you’re experimenting with huffing compressed hydrofluorocarbons.” As easy going as I tend to be, I could never love anyone who disregards the payout of an old fashioned “Texas shoe shine.”

I sit here now, draped in the carcass of a freshly gutted buck. As much as the melancholy of love sits heavy on my heart, I cannot let it betray my earnest desires to experience life. I hearken the spirit of nature, and in it I hearken the spirit of adventure. My love may have scorned me, but now I am free to do with life whatever I please. With gusto I decapitated a nearby marmoset. Just once I had to do it, I had to keep the head as a trophy. Not entirely for showmanship, but because I needed a new hat.

Editor’s Note: No animals were harmed during the writing of this. In fact, mid-way through the author saved a cat from a tree, and delivered it’s kittens on the lawn of a half-way house where each recovering individual got their own kitten to help them deal with life.

God Day Afternoon - January 16, 2013

I was walking home from the store with three bottles of wine in a brown bag when the bag handle ripped and two bottles shattered in the bag. I’m not attempting to be sacrilegious here but I kind of see how Jesus Christ felt when he was on the cross. Sure, I wasn’t in any physical pain, but the Judas Iscariot who put three bottles of wine in a brown paper bag definitely had evil intention in their heart. Don’t get me started on God either, as he sat by in a cloud thinking of classic harp tunes, and probably laughed to himself as the red wine bottles broke and the blood of his Son was once again spilled upon the rocks.

This isn’t meant in offense to any one person, but if you’re the kind of person who gets offended you’ve probably stopped reading this already. If I was God I would be honored, and let’s face it, so many people have told me I’m God I might be starting to feel that way. Yesterday I was just goofing off on my way to work when I accidentally tripped and made a small lake part like the Red Sea. The eating was good that day as the fish thrashed about gasping for air in the now-dry lake bed.

I’m not big on ripping off stories so of course I don’t see myself as any God, or Son-of-God, and I still, of course, refuse to play the harp.

Let’s talk about science: I read a statistic recently that said one in twelve people are color blind. That means there’s a good chance one of Jesus Christ’s apostles was sitting at the last supper thinking, “Why do they keep calling it red wine?”

Yours in humor,

A. B.

Standing in weight (heavy, heavy weight) - December 18, 2012

Winter doesn’t officially start for a few more days, but already there’s a blizzard of unkempt ideology running amok in the United States of America. Every where I look some cloven-hooved adult male is rubbing an innocent child’s mane of hair and comforting them, “You were good this year, Santa will be here soon to reward thine glorious effort, young stallion of youth.”

I say bull-hockey!

Sure, Santa is real, but is he coming to many of these neighborhoods? The other day I saw two kids stepping on frogs. A week before that I saw a group of four children drinking blood from a pewter goblet, and while tying the tails of squirrels in knots they spoke with naive eagerness at the second coming of the Satan.

Were these events truly perceived by me? Nah, not in reality. I just wanted to offset the amount of pro-children media that is inundating America at the moment. Kids are okay unless they are poor. [Insert U.S. President’s name here] doesn’t care about poor children. LOL

While we’re talking about guns let me shoot some more ideas at you. How come no one wants gun control? If you don’t control the gun the gun controls you; Otherwise, let’s consider bullet control. From now on all bullets will be made of chocolate with a chewy caramel center. You can’t kill people, but you can give them cavities and diabetes.

Please accept any spelling errors with my sincere regret.


Self-Propulsion in Austin, TX - November 8, 2012

Time for another update here, but what to talk about? I’m shacked up here in Austin, TX with a hot mic chirping in my ear. Why are the p’s always popping? Should I have had added an apostrophe to p’s?

Recently a friend of mine was complaining about the traffic in Austin, but of course he meant car traffic. He owns a car, and hates sitting around in line with other cars. I know he wasn’t talking about pedestrian-traffic, because if he was he’d have a much better appreciation for car-traffic.

I don’t mean human -trafficking, which trumps both car-traffic and pedestrian-traffic, I mean globules of society running down a hot sidewalk. I’m talking about the steamy corporation of man trampeding nature in a common direction, that’s my traffic. Man, oh man, why are they all farting?

You think car exhaust is bad stuff, wait until you’re stuck behind a 48 year old jogger blowing exhaust on an incline. His diet probably consists mostly of cauliflower, Mr. Pibb, and deep-fried ho-hos. Hills are almost always covered in the farts of joggers. Any propulsion helps when you’re battling gravity to the top.

Speaking of which, I still don’t have a car. My road gigs are limited to where the city bus takes me. The gravity of life continues to pull at me, but the spirit of humor keeps me going.

World peace by 3012.


July Anno Domini 2012 - July 2, 2012

The change of month always reminds me I never update my website enough.

I’m forcing myself to sit here to complete this. I’m listening to “Blowin’ In The Wind” because it always reminds me about the frailty of mankind and how it’s alright I don’t update this often. At least I’m not one of those asshole musicians making it big off of hype.

People who meet me for the first time never know what to make of me. I only found this out after several hundred people told me this over the course of 26 years. I was a late bloomer when it came to social cognitive skills. April showers bring December flowers.

Recently I brought my girlfriend some flowers just for the heck of it. She seemed pretty happy and replied, “That’s so kind of you.”

This bothered me quite exceedingly, “Kind of me?” I responded. “That’s all of me, baby!” Then, thanks to the subliminal messages in “Blowin’ in the Wind” that I’ve heard since I was a baby, I took the flowers and stuck them up my ass.

Merry Christmas in July.

-Andrew Burnette

Being Alive, You’re Better Off Dead - June 2, 2012

This is only my third update this year. It’s too bad considering all the fantastic things that are happening, but maybe that is good…

I am unable to get to the phone, Ed McMahon just came to my door with balloons and a cumbersome check.

Is that dated? Is McMahon even alive? I know Carson croaked years ago.

Speaking of frogs and how they ruin a quiet night. I grew up in Florida where frogs love to live and mate. When I was in my teens I lived by a swamp in the Sunshine state and became acclimated to hearing thousands of frogs calling out to each other every night. It became almost peaceful, like when you’re sleeping in a hammock and the wind blows sand in your face. You get used to it.

What was the point of any of this? There was one. Oh yeah, things are going well. I’m involved in a few projects right now that I will soon be able to share (hopefully). One of which involves some audio I will be loading to the site.

Don’t forget to wipe your feet.


P.S. I am seriously  considering “You Get Used To It” to be my “Get R Done.”

References to (and in) Austin - April 8, 2012

Quick thing:

SXSW 2012 is long gone, but I managed to find a place in the books.

Around the 2:12 mark I make a very short appearance in John Hodgman’s SXSW Backstage Tour.

Also, if you’re a fan of WTF with Marc Maron then give a listen to Episode 266 with Jeffrey Tambor. Close the end of the podcast Mr. Tambor mentions me.

The link to Marc Maron’s website to check out his podcast:

Until later,


Just For The Folk Of It - January 3, 2012

Someone “Secret-Santa’d” me a cyanide capsule for Christmas 2011.

This is not actually true, but is important for later on in the post.

Warning: this post contains “prison language.”

By “prison language” I certainly do not mean, “prison-tea-time language” which is actually quite pleasant, and can really teach you something new about a person.

Does this warning need to be here? Not really.

Sometimes when I greet a group of people, “how are you, folks?” I really have to fight the urge to say folks, and not fucks. It’s so tempting every time, because the word folk is so easy to fuck with.

"Hey there, fucks. How are ya?"

Makes me sound like a real cool dude. A real laid-back guy. Someone you’d never suspect is smearing your name to your face. If they do figure it out I can always deny it, and if that doesn’t work I can always rely on my cyanide capsule.

Happy 2012.

-Andrew Burnette

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