I enjoy the comedic things in life. Some, in fact, might call me an aficionado of comedy. I wouldn’t necessarily encourage it, but if presented with free t-shirts and other swag, I think it’s fair to say that I might do a little research into legally adding a title to my name… Perhaps something to the effect of “Vickie, aficionado of comedy”- pretty sexy, eh?
So, you see, I’m a person. I have hopes… I have dreams… In the end, they’re not all that much different from Dr. Martin Luther King’s. I would like to entertain people. Regardless of their ethnic background and how they like to eat their hot dogs, I would like to help them laugh. It’s not just some sort of power- tripping, megalomaniac desire to derive pleasure from causing others to laugh. I would even go so far as to call it altruism. Comedy is the ultimate sacrifice.
At any rate, much as a young shepherdess is wont to spend uncountable hours laying in the hay of the barn, dreaming of becoming princess of the realm (this is, of course, before being accosted by Fernando the goat boy and ending up on MTV’s critically acclaimed show 16 and Preggers), I too once had dreams of becoming a comedienne in Korea: a gagwoman (개그우먼). Cradling such dreams close to my bosom, my sufficiently ample bosom, I auditioned for Gag King (개그킹), a special edition of Star King (스타킹) with my friend, Nevada, and was given the opportunity to join a ragtag group of gagmen hopefuls, performing short, individual acts.
Together, we were 딸랑개그팀. Swathed in aluminum foil, I was Lady Gaga ~ 레이디가가!
In the original audition, my friend was a translator, and I was Lady Gaga, who upon visiting Korea, found fashion inspiration at a galbi restaurant. After waxing poetic on the beauty to be found at the intersection of galbi and fashion, I proceeded to dump leaves, garlic and kimchi all over my aluminum-foiled self. Perhaps this was too daring – too avant-garde! Mayhaps the thought of a galbi dress was too scandalously risqué and ahead of its time for present-day Korean tv. In any event, the writers deemed it best that for my impression on the show, I should restrict my performance to a couple of dance moves. Then, during rehearsal, the dance moves were downgraded to walking across the stage, which, I’m not gonna lie, ain’t my forte. I shall not be adding “walking across the stage” to the skills section of my acting resume next to the other skills I proudly lay claim to a godlike mastery of, such as “bear handed shark wrestling” and “flammable gymnastics”.
“Oh well”, I thought to myself after the downgrade of my performance, “At the very least, I can still be funny and witty within the parameters of the self introduction and interview! Life does not always take the course one expects, but in a very daoist fashion the water runs as the water runs and the man floats in a boat to the opposing shore”.
WRONG. It got cut! Just like in prison! I’ve never been to prison, but I know what it’s like now! It’s shank or be shanked out there! My glorious couple of minutes in the recording studio got sliced down to a mere couple of seconds. Excuse me while I go drown my frustration in green tea flavored ice cream!
