Morgan O’Shea, “One More Before I Go”

Being dead inside is important when you’re a stand-up comic. I feel like Morgan O’Shea pulls this off with immense conviction. The Boatman and I saw Morgan O’Shea in Halifax during his maritime tour, “One More Before I Go.” The show was at Halifax’s Carleton Music Bar and Grill. That night, the Boatman’s camera had seen better days and failed to capture the delightful spectacle of Morgan’s H&M garbage shirt.

Oh well. Here’s what we got:

Morgan O'Shea

Morgan O’Shea at the Carleton

At least you can see all the creases, still fresh from the dumpster, four years later.

Due to the lighting and sad, dying camera, the pictures of Morgan O’Shea’s host and special guests were sort of terrible. I sketched a picture of Morgan O’Shea’s special guest Stephen Kinch and it looked a little bit like Jesus. Or like my father. Like my father, or like Jesus, with red hair.

You’ll have to imagine it for yourself.

The Halifax turnout for the show was rather pathetic. There was probably room for everyone in the audience and all their second cousins to unroll their yoga mats and lie down and masturbate. Morgan had an even worse turnout in Cape Breton where everyone was busy tapdancing and listening to fiddle music. At least Morgan and his host got a chance to try the seafood chowder.  They said it was delicious.  If you factor in bus tickets and hotel stays, the seafood chowder cost 500 bucks.  Obviously, it was delicious.

The people who did make it to the show at the Carleton had piss-your-pants hysterics, as I’m sure everyone else who caught the tour was.

I don’t know what happened to everyone in Halifax. Morgan O’Shea said that he saw a bunch of us  at our Crackhead library that afternoon. Morgan saw them get high and into a big fight with a bunch of pigeons over a pizza crust. Such battles can take a long time.

Host Kris Dulgar’s shirt was not as exquistie as Morgan’s but it had one of those alligator symbols which meant it was from Lacoste which is apparently trendy these days. Kris Dulgar’s Lacoste shirt wasn’t a garbage shirt. That said, it came from a yard sale for only five bucks. I suggested that Kris stretch out this victory by ripping off the label and re-sewing it to his shirt every morning. Kris is strongly considering my excellent suggestion.


Who loves alligators? Source

Although they were hardly as dead inside as Morgan O’Shea, the special guests are funny people. Ryan Fried is Halifax’s only “openly Jewish” comedian. He also boasts mushroom cloud chest hair. The ageing process has not been kind to this late-twenty-something-year-old comedian. The poor guy suffers from mild balding, grey hairs on his head and thick, obnoxious black hairs on his ass. I’m sorry our photos didn’t turn out.

Stephen Kinch, the guy who looks like Jesus and my father, sort of, has an excellent voice and compelling delivery. He tells a story about watching hot sex with his parents. He is fun to listen to, but afterwards the Boatman points out that fighting a boner in the presence of your mother is an absolutely impossible premise. I don’t get boners; however, this makes sense to me. Each time I visit my mother, my sex life is destroyed for at least two weeks.

After Stephen Kinch it is time for our headliner Morgan O’Shea. Once upon a time Morgan O’Shea tried to be a normal human being.  He set out to lower his blood pressure, but the Canadian avocadoes were too hard. Then they ripened too fast and turned rotten and brown. Now his only hope is adding flaxseed to cocaine.

When you’re dead inside, normal things that make everyone else happy don’t work for you. Not even porn. Morgan O’Shea doesn’t watch porn. I don’t like porn either because I find that the butts are too shiny and large. Morgan’s reason for abstaining is more interesting. Porn shattered and ostracized him at the traumatic age of twelve.

Thirteen or fourteen years later, Morgan ended up having an unlikely good time at a party. This was doomed to be shortlived, and Morgan wet his pants. On his way home, well, I’ll let him tell you the whole story next time you go to see him.

Please go if you get the chance.

While I was watching Morgan, I got the sense that everything in his life was entirely fucked up and yet despite this, he was exactly where he was supposed to be. Onstage, doing comedy. The kid’s got talent. He was bleeding and puking and pissing all over the stage, and making everyone laugh like crazy.

Look out for Morgan O’Shea..

He’s the real deal.

May there be many more...

The End.

I Facebook Stalked Morgan O’Shea and I found this photo of him pretending to smoke a cigarette and wearing a shirt other than the H&M garbage shirt.

He looks quite nice, doesn’t he? Also, I also ran into Morgan in front of the liquor store and it was very exciting.

And that’s about it.

Twitter: @mypelvicfloor

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About Author /

Boss Erica Schmidt a.k.a the Exuberant Bodhisattva led an active childhood in Perth Ontario, where she once won a lookalike contest with her goldfish. After high school, she moved to Montreal in search of Jesus and other sources of pelvic floor wisdom. Last summer, she relocated to Halifax, Nova Scotia to live with her love the Boatman, a man she met on a Boat. Erica also blogs at and recently self-published a digital “self-help” book called “I Let Go.”

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