Scott Capurro

Comic. Actor. Author.

It went ok, thank Hillary

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So I did the 2 previews of my new show, Laughtershock, this weekend past. At the Marsh in San Francisco. The shows went well, and of course, the audience was ideal: A room full (ish) of theatre goers who are also comedy savvy. So they liked the theatricality of my pauses, which were, overall, intentional; […]

First off, I thought I’d let you know about this:

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The Marsh presents Scott Capurro’s Laughtershock Friday, January 11 & Saturday, January 12, 2008 at 8pm Banned in Australia? Booed in Brighton? Asked to tone it down at the Frog and Bucket in Manchester? What is the world of “alternative” comedy coming to? Leave it to KLLC regular and shocking comic Scott Capurro to ask […]

So here’s my November article for Gay Times, and this retard shit really happened. This sweet guy on the bus sort of harassed me, but he reminded me of some material I was trying to justify, discussing excuses, which have replaced explanations. Nobody seems to be able to explain their own behavior, and I haven’t heard anyone really apologize for anything that matters for so long. I think Jimmy Carter was the last public official to say he/she was sorry. I like Tony Blair, he’s glamorous and smart, but he’s got A LOT of explaining to do. I mean, I’m over the smile, especially now that’s he’s sort of fixed his front tooth, but not really. How hard is it to straighten a tooth? Isn’t he rich? I mean, what the fuck?

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Scott Capurro GT November 2007 Whilst heading for the last empty seat on a San Francisco bus, I stumbled over a rider’s white sneaker, and apologized. “That’s alright,” he said, “don’t worry. I know you. You’re that man from the store.” I wasn’t sure which store. I’m always in search of the perfect cashmere V-neck, […]

This just appeared in the San Francisco Guardian. I like it, it’s funny and not scary. I enjoyed this show last night, we only had 50 turn up but the weather was AWFUL and my Paul Smith trousers (new, black, gorgeous) were soaked by the time I arrived. But the crowd was mostly into it, and I did loads of new stuff; I even paid homage to Bhutto. Poor dead (CRAZY, CORRUPT but our only chance for balance) bitch. I cried all day about her death. Then I did the gay jokey dance. No wonder I’m alone. And what’s up with Catherine Tate being called a racist? How come suddenly everyone is now labeled ‘racist’, except people who actually are racist? Bush has given racism a very bad name. Comics be warned. Anyway…

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COMEDY “Scott Capurro’s Dirty Gift” Scott Capurro, a gay comedian from Daly City, probably gets his inspiration elsewhere. He is a world traveler and somehow manages to make trite subjects like mothers, hotel rooms, gangs, and being heckled seem freshly funny. When Christmas — the least funny day of the year — is two days […]

So this just appeared on line. Or at least, I’ve only just read it, and it’s dated this month, so…I think it’s interesting, because it makes me sound very dangerous. I think of my act as mainstream – set up, example, punchline – but I suppose I have to take responsibility for the subjects I cover. Although, again, I talk mostly about current events and race, so really, my subjects are pretty much front page stuff. Whatever. Comedy is personal, when it’s good.

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Oh, and this is lifted from Chortle.co.uk, a UK comedy website that’s favored within this biz we call show. And after some producers read this, it will be more clear why I never get work in Disney films. Enjoy. xxx Scott Capurro is brutally uncompromising in his attitude, defiantly challenging audiences to accept him for […]

Ok, here’s some info about my trip to Canada. Toronto is a generous town, full of hungry husbands with nothing better to do than inspect my suite. I was shocked how small and slightly snipey the comedy world is there. I mean, it’s Canada. You expect everyone to be arms akimbo, at all times, and very kind. Syrupy, to coin a Canadian phrase. But there’s just not enough work to sustain all the comic geniuses there, so things get competitive and tense and there can be tears. Not mine. Crying is a white person thing.

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Scott Capurro GT October 2007 Hotel rooms are a cock magnet. Even this traveling tanned carcass can lure away from their offices married men seeking a quick fix in innocuous surroundings. My room is a model U.N., proving the cultural diversity of Toronto is no myth: Every country, it seems, has been through my door. […]

Just read this on line. It’s my fault for looking myself up. I started with reading about a friend who’s a director, and before you know it, I’m googling me. This is one of the saddest Saturday nights I’ve ever spent alone. I’m in a hotel room in Toronto. I was here to do a festival, and the festival was basically cancelled. Don’t worry, I’ve been paid. Well, I’ve been handed a check. We’ll see what happens when I deposit it. If it bounces, I’ll think, well at least someone is using rubbers. I like the way the List calls me a ‘little bitch’. Sounds horny. Actually some guy was supposed to come over tonite at midnight and cum on my cotton-blend, but he never showed. Men are so fickle. I wandered through the gay village, but it’s far too cold here. Everyone walks around like it’s balmy because they’re not completely covered in snow, but my fingers were about to snap off. I had to get indoors. Not sure how they deal with this for six months, and in fact, i hear it gets colder. The leaves are nice…

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This appeared in the Glasgow Herald last weekend… Among the big-name comics playing Scotland this weekend, Scott Capurro is cruder than Frank Skinner, bitchier than the Grumpy Old Women, less discreet than Alan Carr, skinnier even than Mark Watson and has corresponded with more convicted killers than Ardal O’Hanlon. Seemingly driven by spite, bitterness and […]

Here’s more articles from GT, but for fucksake you cheap faggots, buy the goddamn mag. It’s really good and glossy and impressive when tricks are visiting. At least it gives you something to talk about, right before they get their cocks out. Or put them away. Either way, it’s chic on a table top. As if there are any tops, anywhere, ever! I mean, I’d let these Persians fuck me, I’m not racist, but they cum so fast, they’re so unbelievably excited that they’ve FINALLY got some cock action, that it’s over before it starts, like my adolescence. One guy, Indian, cute, married, living in Dublin, which is almost nice now, he barely got off his trousers before he rushed to my hotel room toilet and shot in my bowl. Then 5 minutes later, in my mouth. What am I, a cum dumpster? Wait, that sounds hot. OK, I’m a cum dumpster, but where’s the fun for me? I guess I could fuck an actualized, fully-fledged gay, but they’re so plucked and tweezed, it’s like humping a canned ham. I’ll stop for now. Read below, bitches!

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Scott Capurro GT September 2007 I’ve never been single. As my mother’s only gay son, I’ve been her constant chaperone, confidant and admirer. We’ve weathered job loss, divorces and drug use. In the early 80s, she was my preferred cocaine dealer. And in 1982, during my first summer home from university, Mom outed me, to […]

Lesbians in Brighton – a whinging combination

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Earlier, I did a set at the Komedia in Brighton, a venue I’ve played successfully for many years. However tonite, I was performing as part of a gay and lesbian themed evening and they asked me to go on first. Not a great idea, my act is slightly confrontational, but i agreed because I liked […]