There’s a myth in comedy that you want to follow the worst comic on the lineup.

“You’ll look amazing.”

No. You won’t.

A bad comedian doesn’t just bomb — they damage the room.

They make the audience nervous about laughing. They make people check their phones. They remind the crowd they could be at home watching Netflix. The trust between stage and audience cracks. And once trust is cracked, laughter doesn’t flow — it leaks.

When you follow that?
You’re not doing comedy.
You’re rebuilding confidence.

You’re proving it’s safe again.
You’re convincing them this won’t be painful.
You’re dragging the energy back uphill.

It’s exhausting.

That’s why I’d rather go before the bad comic. I want the audience fresh. I want their attention sharp. I want to be the one who sets the temperature in the room.

Because here’s the real goal:

I want to be unfollowable.

Not controversial. Not offensive. Not reckless.

Unfollowable because the set is so strong you can’t go after it.

Unfollowable because the bar is now too high.

I even posted once that my goal was to be “unfollowable” — and Adam Carolla liked it.

That meant something to me.

Because being unfollowable isn’t about ego. It’s about standard.

It’s about doing so well that the next comic feels the pressure — not because you’re mean, but because you’re sharp. Because you prepared. Because you respected the craft enough to bring your A-game.

Here’s the hopeful part:

You don’t become unfollowable overnight.

You become unfollowable by bombing, learning, rewriting, trimming, testing, tightening.

You become unfollowable by taking the long road when shortcuts are available.

So don’t fear the bad comic.
Don’t resent the dead room.
Don’t panic when the crowd is cold.

Just keep sharpening.

One day, someone’s going to say, “I hate going after that guy.”

And that’s when you’ll know — you’re not just on the lineup.

You’re setting the standard.