MORE

Kevin Hart Cracks Up the Fillmore Before Hitting King of Diamonds

Kevin Hart isn't that cool. With four sold out shows at the Fillmore for the South Beach Comedy Festival, the man may be popular, but he's definitely not that cool. He started his performance last night by grabbing the mic and pulling the stand down a good two feet to accommodate his tiny stature. He then proceeded to describe how he kowtowed to a man in a Spongebob suit at his daughter's fifth birthday party, how much of a baller he's not, and how he dropped his mother's coffin at her funeral.

While comedians who opened for Hart talked about eating assholes and choking bitches, Hart recounted in detail how many sexual positions he is not comfortable with and assured the crowd that his average sexual performance lasts no more than 23 seconds. To illustrate, he went on to hump a stool for 23 seconds.

This fast-talking, wounded little

comedian may not be the first to invite people to laugh at his pain, but

he does do it well. The mostly-black crowd at

the Fillmore was young, happy and eager to laugh, a condition only

helped along by the tall-ass beers and cocktails the concession counters

doled out.

Four comedians performed before Kevin Hart took the stage.

The emcee talked about Miami's big bitches, a phenomenon we Miamians

more commonly refer to as "drag queens," and reminisced about the good

ol' days of piss-colored Listerine.

The next guy staggered in toting a

keg-party style red plastic cup and started a drunken rant about how

little time he had to perform. "I only got four jokes for y'all," he

slurred. "Show started late, so I'm gonna do these four jokes and get

out of here." He made some poignant observations about men's jean

choices on South Beach. "Every time you walk, you bust a nut because

your tight ass jeans be rubbing up against you. If you need to arch your

foot to get it into the pant leg of your jeans, you need to get a

bigger pair of jeans!" He talked about how fiendishly men protect their

cell phone privacy, and why. "We can't just put in a name of a girl. We

gotta put in something like 'Big Titty Keisha,' so when the phone ring

your girl sees the caller ID and she'll be like, 'Who the fuck is 'Big

Titty Keisha!?'" "He so right!" a woman in the audience exclaimed. 


Up next, Na'im Lynn's

greatest contribution to the show and perhaps to mankind is a plan by

which men performing oral sex on women can make sure that they never

accidentally lick an asshole again. "You stick

your finger in it and rest your chin on your hand," he said, completely

deadpan, demonstrating the technique for the audience. 


The

raunchiest opener of all, Corey Holcomb, was saved for last. Holcomb

seemed sloppy drunk when he stumbled onto the stage, but at least he

warned the audience of what to expect. "I'm only gonna talk about some

fucked up shit," he said. And that he did. 


He

talked about a pool party at Magic Johnson's house. "He's standing in

the pool with a big ass cut on his leg, and he's like 'Come in!' I was

like, you're gonna  have to put some more chlorine in the pool." 


Then on to vaginal rejuvenation surgery and other fun female topics. "Getting'

your tubes tied is for girls who refuse to give up raw dick. They could

just ask guys to wear a condom, but they're like 'Fuck that.' They

wanna get skeeted in." He slowly looked around at the audience before continuing.


"I

see some of you girls getting upset at my jokes," he said. "That's

because my show is a reflection of your life. And you hate yourself." Fellas, don't worry. Holcomb had some wisdom for you too. "Never

let a year go by without choking your bitch," he explained. "I don't

care if it's New Year's Eve. 'Four, three, two, one...'" he said, and

then seized the mic stand, miming a pretty convincing choking.


Holcomb

left and a black box on the stage opened to reveal two female dancers

in red one-piece bathing suits, tuxedo jackets and bow ties. Dry ice

clouds floated across the stage, and the dancers moved around awkwardly

for a few moments before the door of the box opened again, and out

walked little man Hart. 


His comedy was a lot

more subdued than Holbrook's babble about abortions and STDs. It was

also a lot more personal. He talked about how he had tried --- and

failed --- to hang with (read also: spend money like) the big dogs of

the NBA. He told a lot of stories about his coke-head father, like the

time daddy he came into Hart's spelling bee competition, late, high as

hell and shouting inappropriate cheers. "My son's spelling the shit out

of those motherfucking words! Awright awright awright!" Hart shouted in

imitation.  


From start to end, the audience

laughed nearly non-stop. These guys knew what they were doing, and the

audience was on board for every joke. Hart earned his place as the

celebrated headliner by bringing a host of stories with substance, a

little bit of sadness, and a lot of hilarity.

The show ran pretty late

for a Sunday (supposedly it started at nearly 11 p.m., and audiences

weren't standing up to leave until 1 a.m.), but the laughs were worth

sacrificing a few hours' sleep over. For those who braved the after

party, Hart tweeted that he and his "plastic cup boyz" shut down King of

Diamonds strip club.

Follow Cultist on Facebook and Twitter @CultistMiami.



Sponsor Content