It is 3:47 p.m. I have just returned from vacation in the Dominican Republic. My body still smells of after-sun coconut and my back stings so much that I want to scratch it with every corner of the wall I come across. I’m sitting in the hotel room where I slept after my show in Donnacona, I’ll be heading to Thetford Mines in a few moments to do another show. I hesitate to write this text. I wonder if it’s relevant to give even more visibility to those who have insulted me for a few days…
“No class Criss, you’ll never have a career. »
“There’s a limit to assuming your body, you look like Bonhomme Carnaval. »
“Disgusting, you are pathetic. There were families in the crowd! »
Some time ago, I went to sing a song with Les Cowboys Fringants at the Bell Centre, right after my show in Brossard. As I jumped all over the stage, dressed in oversized sweatpants and a sports bra, the people in the crowd were shouting and singing. THE fans Cowboys are the best. The Cowboys are the best.
I was in the euphoria of this overflow of adrenaline which makes me happy and grateful. Karl, the singer, and I sang while looking each other in the eye, sometimes laughing, sometimes being in our characters of the song merchant navy. The story of this song is based on a couple who no longer feel face and have to move away. The girl is mean. The guy goes into the merchant navy.
It was the only duet of this intoxicating evening, which the fans filled with love and energy. As I was screaming into the mic that I hated him, as the song states, my wet, leaky pants decided to fall off my hips and suddenly the song hit a slower tempo, before the final punch where the girl in the tune says she cheated on her boyfriend while he was gone.
At that precise moment, a flash of madness grazed my brain and caused my two hands to pull down my pants. I found myself in panties in front of 16,000 people who were screaming and laughing. Karl turned to me and laughed, along with the rest of the band. I was hot, the song was funny and hop there, in underpants.
A few days later, after I replied to several messages telling me that I was a nice surprise during this evening, that I was funny and that it was liberating, the hate messages began to surge following several articles relating to my performance.
I’m not angry reading the comments.
I’m sad. I am sad for people who still take the time to tell me that I will never have a career.
I’m sad for humans who take too long to insult someone who has too much confidence to feel attacked and who doesn’t regret for a moment having entertained thousands of people who smiled at him.
Sad to see that it is only adults who write this kind of comments. Young people seem little upset by this celebration of joy. Of freedom.
I am sad for all those who insult me by telling me that my body is disgusting, big, greasy and repulsive.
I did not reply to any of the messages.
But I use the platform given to me by The Press to meet the whole gang at the same time.
My name is Mariana Mazza. I am a comedian who fills her theaters with people who want to laugh and who have been following me for 12 years now. I love my body as I love the life I lead: with gratitude and care.
I invite you all to try to be like me.
Free yourself from your bitterness which hits the wall of my indifference.
Happy new year 2023.
P.S. If it had to be done again, I would have launched myself into the crowd.
joke.