Tuesday, September 30, 2003


As I'm sure you know, cell phone plans are getting more and more specialized--some companies give you unlimited off-peak minutes, others let you call your friends and family for free and a couple have begun letting you rollover your unused minutes from month to month. Well folks, that's just the tip of the telecommunications iceberg. Check out some of the new cell phone plans that will be offered within the next year:

The Sprint PCS "Reach Out and Stalk Someone" Plan
Key feature: All calls to ex-girlfriends/boyfriends between the hours of 1-5am are free, provided that the calls are "just to make sure everything is okay". (Additional feature: Phone is Caller ID-proof)

The Cingular Wireless "Get Back Into the Will" Plan
Key feature: Unlimited minutes alloted for calls to elderly parents, grandparents or anyone else nearing death who you've drunkenly alienated in the past five years.

The T-Mobile "Talk Shit About Rob" Plan
Key feature: Free conference calling, designated explcitly for discussions about how Rob Faber of Goffstown, New Hampshire is a total fucking a-hole. Did you hear what he said to Amy at Smitty's party last weekend? What a dick.

The AT&T "Gun in Mouth" Plan
Key feature: 1200 free minutes a week to wonder what the fuck you did wrong while your girlfriend sighs audibly, threatens to hang up, and sobs quietly to herself.

The Verizon "No, my name is not Homo Homostein" Plan
Key feature: Upon activation, your phone number will be given a random group of 14 year old teenage boys, who will prank call you incessantly for upwards of three months. On the upside, these minutes will be free.

The Nokia "Stabbing Pain to the Abdomen Whenever You Answer Your Phone" Plan
Key feature: 800 anytime minutes and unlimited nights and weekends, all for the cool low price of $39.99 per month!

Monday, September 29, 2003


We're all headed to Carson City, NV on November 2nd!

There's so much to love about this site, I don't know where the hell to begin.

Sunday, September 28, 2003


I'm writing this from the rather nondescript Concourse Hotel in Columbus, OH. Earlier this evening (yesterday, technically speaking), I did the first date of the Comedy Central "No Class" Comedy Tour with Ed Helms and Doug Stanhope at Ohio University. I had a really great time at the show--nothing feeds the ego like performing for 1800 entertainment-starved kids. Afterwards, we drove the 90 minutes back to Columbus (where we're flying out of tomorrow) and sat in the hotel bar and we drank ridiculously cheap beers until Last Call. There was a reception here earlier in the evening, the evidence being the gaggle of fat dudes in formalwear downing Coors Lights with their doughy baby-machine wives.

Perhaps the strangest and most wonderful moment of the hotel bar experience: We were sitting in a booth chatting and At one point, someone at our table mentioned the word "midget", and a way-too-old-to-be-dressing-sexy woman with a defiantly non-ironic mullet wheeled around and shouted, "THAT MIDGET IS A FUCKING ASSHOLE!" Then, after noticing that we had no idea what she was talking about, "ARE WE TALKING ABOUT THE SAME MIDGET? THE ONE FROM FROM BEFORE?" More silence, then the bizarre kicker, "HE TOOK A PISS ON MY LEG!" We all just stared at her awkwardly, until she turned back to her friend and starting babbling about something else. It was like the lamest "Twin Peaks" episode ever.

At least five times in the 12 or do hours I've been here, I've thought to myself, "Holy shit...people live here." I mean, college kids living here I can understand. Most schools are in shitty little one horse towns, and that's one of the things that makes college...well, college. Granted, I went to NYU, so I don't really know what the fuck I'm talking about. But it seems to me that for most kids, college towns are like strange little suburban vortexes where drunken 18-22 year olds get to make all the rules--kind of like Lord of the Flies with midterms. But the locals? Egads. I'd rather take an icepick to the eyeball once a day for the next forty years than to actually try to make a life here. After all, there's apparently an incontionent midget terrorizing the Columbus area--best to get back to NYC, where I can keep my legs urine-free.

Okay, I'm not even making sense at this point. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go crawl into my crappy little hotel bed and watch Sportscenter until I pass out.

Friday, September 26, 2003


Lest ye forget, tonight marks yet another sure-to-be-magnificent installment of PORTABLE COMEDY at the Gershwin Hotel! Now, as most of you are probably aware, tonight is Rosh HaShanna. But seriously, think about it--what better way to spend one of the holiest days on the Jewish calendar than with a guy with the word "Christ" in his first name? So get your repenting done early and come on on down and witness the comedy magic of:

ANDREW DONNELLY (He's appeared on Comedy Central's "Premium Blend" and in countless national commercials)

JONATHAN CORBETT (He's also appeared on "Premium Blend" and has appeared at the prestigious Montreal Comedy Festival)

AMANDA MELSON (A favorite all over NYC, especially at Portable Comedy)

OPHIRA EISENBERG (She's had her own half-hour special on Canadian television)

BRETT GELMAN (He's a member of "Mr. A$$", one of the most popular sketch groups in residence at The Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre)

DAN ALLEN (As seen at Carolines and The Comic Strip)

And, take a walk down memory lane with TOZER & STU!

You want details? I got details for you:

7 East 27th Street
(b. 5th and Madison)
And, don't forget: FREE FRAT HOUSE VODKA!

Come on down. Attendance will be taken.

Christian Finnegan,
blowing a horn in the name of comedy

Thursday, September 25, 2003


For some reason, today is one of those days where my lack of funds/career/healthcare doesn't get to me so much and I'm just blissfully happy that I'm not stuck in Cubicle Hell.

With the exception of a three month temping stint last fall, it's been over two and a half years since I worked in an office. This is probably best for all involved. I was advised by a physician to avoid any line of work where people need to depend on me. For anything. Whenever I work in an office type environment, people always badgering me with questions. Christian, why are you late for work again? Christian, why did you throw my mail in the trash can? Christian, why aren't you wearing pants? It's exhausting, I tell you. They get all up in my grill and I just have to give them 'the hand' and say "Whatever, bitch." It's just not good for my constitution.

I once temped at some 'dot-com' that had a condom machine in the bathroom. That's odd, right--a condom machine in an office bathroom? Because I'm telling you, I've had some pretty good days at work...but none so good that I thought I might be calling on "Trojan Man" in between meetings. I imagine that has to be one damn impressive Powerpoint presentation you put together. How does that ever come into play? Some woman walks into your office, closes the door behind her and whispers, "Phil, I really loved your choice of font. Was that Helvetica...bold?" Dress drops to floor, cue funk music.

the one thing I truly miss about working in offices is all the free shit you get. Office supplies are like corporate booty, man. I still have about 87 Post-It pads, if anyone needs one. Hanging folder or two? Paperclip holder with magnetic rim? I temped for a very long time, and I worked in probably over 50 different offices. And every time I'd be set to complete an assignment, I'd lock myself in the supply room and it would turn into an epsiode of "Supermarket Sweepstakes"--a manic 60 or so seconds of me cramming my bag with anything and everything that would fit. And when you're stealing office supplies, your idea of what's "necessary" changes a bit. You find yourself saying things like, "You know, I really could use a backup 3-hole punch. Because, you know--what if my other one breaks down?! Then, there's be no hole-punching! It would be a hole-punching catastrophe!"

File this all under "Why never to hire Finnegan".

Wednesday, September 24, 2003


Intro to Recreational Bulimia

The Safety Dance: Cold War Paranoia in 1980's Synth Pop

Racist Party Clowns III

Fundamentals of Atomic Wedgie

German Vacuum Cleaning, 1950 - 2000

Fart History*

Comparative Genitalia: How You Stack Up Against Prof. McDaniels

Yogurt Studies

From Meanbeats to Raving Bill: The Films of Martin Slorcese

Cooties in American Folklore

Abel Was a Douchebag: Re-Evaluating the Old Testament

Screech, Urkle and the Rise of Italian Facism

Chlamydia Appreciation 101

Inverticles, Multigentricity and Hyperbovian Thinking: Principles of Quantum Ambiguity

Intro to Jeff

* Sometimes a joke is so obvious, it's genius. This is not one of those times.

Monday, September 22, 2003


I have lots of crap to do today (I have a cucumber wrap and Brazillian bikini wax at 4pm), so that means no hilarious, holy-crap-how-did-he-come-up-with-that-surely-he-must-be-some-sort-of-genius-I-just-hope-someday-I-can-learn-to-be-a-bit-more-like-him Tower of Hubris entry.

In the meantime, have fun playing this little film game I've been obsessing over lately. If it's not self-explanatory, it's a bunch of film stilld where the peoples bodies have been digitally erased. Have fun procrastinating!

Sunday, September 21, 2003


Remember, Cancer patients: nobody likes a whiner!

Thursday, September 18, 2003


As many of you know, the New York City has been chosen to host the 2004 Republican National Convention. People are making a huge deal about this, as if it's something really special. But the truth is, New York plays host to a number of political conventions every election year. Sure, they may not have the politcal clout or name recognition of the Republicans or Democrats, but they are nonetheless part of the fabric of our great republic. Let's meet them:

PHILOSOPHY: Freetopians are vehemently opposed to government infringements on personal liberty at all levels. Among the things Freetopians are opposed to: streetlights, child safety caps and minimum height requirements on roller coasters.
SLOGAN: "Libertarians are a bunch of Communist pussies!"

PHILOSOPHY: The AWR endorses a number of controversial social policies, all of which are very ambiguous in their intent. Are they trying to help the less fortunate? Or are they horrible racists? Hard to say. Proposals include a plan that would require teachers in predominantly Black schools to learn how to rap, a "Tortillas-for-Guns" program in crimeridden Latino neighborhoods, and The Goldstein Foundation, which helps Jews pass the bar exam.
SLOGAN: "Working towards an America where men and women of every race are valid."

TGL (Total Government Live)
PHILOSOPHY: TGL wants to offer America a more direct approach to Democracy, whereby policy would be created via "shout outs" by average teens who happen to be congregating en masse outside the House of Respresentatives.
SLOGAN: "Hi, I'm Tracy Meloni from Merrick, Long Island and I want to give a mad shout out to tax code reform for working families and small business! Ashton Kutcher, I love you! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!"

PHILOSOPHY: Founded by prominent economist Ronald Fingerfuck, The Fingerfucks are the "no nonsense" party of fiscal responsibility. They believe budget cuts are necessary in both social programs and military spending if we ever hope to reign in our ballooning national deficit.
SLOGAN: "The era of false promises is over. America deserves honest and sober fiscal leadership in the face of a ever-evolving global economy. Vote Fingerfuck."

PHILOSOPHY: This group believes that the 'passive-aggressive girlfriend' is the perfect model for good government. If voted into power, the PAG will exert its influence on foreign and domestic policy through an intricate combination of awkward silences, vague expressions of disappointment, and occasional crying fits.
SLOGAN: "So...you don't want to increase farm subsidies? Um...okay. No, that's fine... (sigh...) ...Listen, I think I'm just going to go. No. I'm fine. Obviously, you're not interested in what I have to say, so... You just do whatever. I said, I'm fine. Really. (sigh)"

PHILOSOPHY: This party is dedicated to promoting the family value of cool, refreshing Pepsi cola. Look under the cap of your participating Pepsi product for a chance to become Secretary of Health and Human services, or any one of 150 other rad Pepsi prizes! The PG hopes to rebound after months of infighting between potential nominees Shakira and Beyonce.
SLOGAN: With a smooth taste and less than 100 calories, it's clear that Pepsi is the choice of a new voting demographic!

PHILOSOPHY: If voted into power, this group will see to it every American citizen would be able to throw a kick-ass party. Funds will be allocated for beer, potato chips, crepe paper streamers and totally awesome '80s music mix CD's. A special congressional task force will be formed to make sure that "Jeff" doesn't show up.
SLOGAN: "Dude, you are so wasted! We are so getting your vote!"

Wednesday, September 17, 2003


You know, since he went off to the great Regal Beagle in the sky last week, John Ritter has been the subject of many a sanctimonious "Access Hollywood" tribute. I think that's just dandy, as I've always felt the dude was a grossly underrated physical comedian. But I just wanted to state, for the record, that I have been preaching the Gospel of Tripper for years now, even on this very page (see March 29th). Say what you want about the bad clothes and predictable plotlines of Three's Company, no one in TV history could do a backwards pratfall over a sofa quite like John Ritter. And please, don't give me that tired Lucille Ball shit--I'll take Jack Tripper getting hit in the face with the swinging kitchen door over that "classic" wine stomping scene any day.

An bizarre piece of Ritter-related intrigue: Like pretty much every other newspaper in the country, the New York Daily News publishes daily syndicated horoscopes, theirs written by "celebrity" astrologer Joyce Jillson. In addition to the usual short blurbs relating to each zodiacal sign, Ms. Jillson usually includes photos of a couple of celebrities who are celebrating birthdays that week. Each is accompanied by a short paragraph explaining how the particular star's sign relates to whatever piece of shit album, movie or TV show he's working on at the moment. In September 11th's edition of the Daily News, Ms. Jillson surmises that Moby's business acumen in licensing so many of his songs to advertising campaigns is a direct manifestation of his Virgo-ness. Fair enough, I suppose. The other celebrity featured on this particular day? That's right, Mr. John Ritter. No, I'm not joking.

It gets better. Get a load of this line: "Having a Virgo sun sign helps keep his career ticking". I will remind you that John Ritter died of...yes, a massive heart attack. Well done, Ms. Jillson.

Look, I know astrology isn't a perfect science. In fact, it's a not a science at all. And even if I did buy into that horseshit (I don't), I wouldn't expect that even the most gifted astrologer would be able to predict the exact day someone was going to die. But is it too much to ask that someone who purports to see the fucking future might have the ability to pick out one of the 364 days this year when John Ritter was not going to kick off? I mean, all she had to do was pick a celebrity who wasn't going to suffer a fatal heart attack a few hours before her column went to press. I'd like to think even I could avoid dropping the astrological ball like that, and I'm not exactly what you'd call the Delphic fucking Oracle.

All I can say is, if I were Moby I'd be shitting my pants right now.

Oh, and if there does turn out to a "heaven", I'd like to think John Ritter is up there, overhearing an innocent conversation between Ghandi and Joan of Arc and mistakenly placing it in a sexual context.

Tuesday, September 16, 2003


I just mistakenly deleted a semi-long post I was writing. I am very angry. It was kind of funny, I think.

God fucking damn it, I'm a moron.

I no longer have time write the whole damn thing again, as I have yet another commerical audition to underperform at.

Jesus H, man. This sucks dong.

For now, just enjoy this.

Shit fuck.

Monday, September 15, 2003


Apparetnly, Blogger is letting people upload photos now (you used to have to pay for that honor). Let's give it a try:

Success! This opens an entirely new timewasting vista!

Saturday, September 13, 2003


There comes a time when the desire to succeed is overcome by the fear of not succeeding as the prime motivating force in one's life.

Enjoy your Saturday!

Friday, September 12, 2003


Portable Comedy. Tonight. At the Gershwin Hotel.

You will be there.

My very talented guests and I will attempt to make you laugh.

No less than 50% of the time, you will comply enthusiastically. "Holy crap," you will say to yourself, "I can't believe how funny this show is! And for so little money! I am genuinely flabbergasted!!"

Of the remaining 50%, you will smile comfortably 25% of the time and think to yourself, "Hey, that was sorta funny, kinda."

Of the remaining 25%, you will smile not-so-comfortably 15% of the time and think, "Hmm. Not so funny. But I guess it's not my place to judge. I'm sure the next joke will be funnier."

Of the remaining 10%, you won't even be able to force a smile 5% of the time. You will think to yourself, "Okay, that just sucked. This guy's a dick. At least there's free vodka."

And of the remaining 5%, you will spend roughly 3% of that time plotting my demise. "Ohhhhh. Ohhhhhh," you will moan to yourself. "I would rather take a cheese grater to my face than spend one more minute having my ears assaulted with the inane buffoonery of this jackass host. I must murder Christian Finnegan. I must. Die. Die. Die."

You will spend the remaining 2% of tonight's show thinking about Scott Baio. Not sure why.

No matter how you slice it, though, you're in for a great night of comedy. So come on out and enjoy:

ED HELMS (He can be seen every weeknight as a correspondent on "The Daily Show with Jon Stewart")

JACKIE KASHIAN (She has her very own episode of "Comedy Central Presents" and will be seen this Monday on "Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn")

JON FISCH (Recently chosen as one of Comedy Central's "Fresh Faces" and a finalist in last year CC "Laugh Riots" contest)

STEVE DAY (This well respected British comic and Edinburgh Festival alum is in America for one week only)

BRIAN KENNEDY (A regular at world-famous Carolines Comedy Club)

MATT GOLDICH (He plays all the great rooms in NYC, including "Eating It" at Luna Lounge, and was a semifinalist in Comedy Central's "Laugh Riots" contest)

BRENDAN GALIVAN (After a long tour of duty with Austrian death metal band, "Lungstabber", Brendan returns to the cozy confines of the Portable Comedy stage)

And, the pertinent info:

7 East 27th Street
(b. 5th and Madison Ave)

You should show up. Comedy is good for you.

Christian Finnegan,

Thursday, September 11, 2003


At last check, yesterday's entry had 63 comments and counting. VICTORY IS MINE! I thank you, the TOH readership, for providing such a glorious glut of needless verbiage. Viva overkill! And to celebrate this wondrous feat, I present:


STING "Sacred love" -- Sometimes the plight of the world's poor weighs so heavily on me, I just get in my SUV and drive, drive, drive.

JACK JOHNSON "On and On" -- Finally, artistic validation for my burnout, going-nowhere lifestyle!

IGGY & THE STOOGES "Raw Power" -- Hey, you kids! Get off of my countercultural lawn!

JOHNNY LANG "Lie to Me" -- I don't care what people say; Dan Ackroyd is still the funniest man alive.

JAMES TAYLOR "Sweet Baby James" -- Prepare yourself for a long night of cuddling and blueballs.

KINGS OF LEON "Youth and Young Manhood" -- I am the product of what happens when irony falls into the hands of the witless.

JOSH GROBAN "Josh Groban" -- Help! I'm trapped under a pile of PBS totebags!

SPIN DOCTORS "Pocket Full of Kryptonite" -- My investment banker husband has no idea that I once took on seven guys at a Sigma Epsilon kegger.

AMY GRANT "Legacy Hymns & Faith" -- My investment banker husband has no idea that I once took on seven guys backstage at an LA Guns concert, whacked out of my gourd on coke.

KENNY CHESNEY "No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problems" -- Hope you enjoy my assortment of patriotic and/or sexual innuendo-laden bumper stickers.

BERNIE WILLIAMS "Journey Within" -- 1918!! (clap, clap, clap-clap-clap) 1918!! clap, clap, clap-clap-clap) 1918!! (clap, clap, clap-clap-clap)

ASHANTI "Chapter II" -- I'm looking for a true "thug" to call my own--preferably one in sixth grade, like me.

THE MARS VOLTA "Deloused in the Comatorium" -- Sit down and I'll spend 40 minutes telling you what an intellectual I am.

MICHAEL BOLTON "Vintage" -- Yes, I like Michael Bolton. Yeah, I know: ha ha fucking ha. So sue me! What the hell business is it of yours what kind of music I listen to in my own goddamn home, anyway? I mean, christ, can't a guy just relax with a glass of white zin and enjoy a little soulful R&B crooning once in a while? You'd think I'd fucking killed somone...

ROCKAPELLA "In Concert" -- It's okay to be confused--even I'm not sure whether I'm gay or straight.

Wednesday, September 10, 2003


Yes, ladies and gentlemen: the comments are back. YACCS, the site that runs them had a major server meltdown last week, and things finally got back up and running yesterday evening. So how good is this new server, you ask? Let's find out. I would like each any every person who visits this site for the next 24 hours to leave a comment. It doesn't have to be witty or insightful. Hell, just mash your hand on the keyboard, if you want to (example: rnfbjipaehipab). I'm going for quantity, not quality. As far as I know, I've never had more than 25-ish entries on any one particular entry, and most of those were just my friend Todd Levin's readers writing to tell me what an asshole I am (for those of you who are new to TOH, it's a long story). Today, I'm aiming for fifty. Fifty comments, people! Think you can hack it?

Just in case you need a little inspiration, feel free to answer any of the following questions:

* Who's the person in your life most likely to punch you in the face?

* How much money would it take to convince you to perform cunnilingus on syndicated gossip columnist Liz Smith? Once. With no one knowing. But with the lights on.

* Coolest word in the English language? Other than 'jackanapes'?

* Of all of the Hanna Barbara cartoon characters, who'd be the best lay?

* Where do broken hearts go?

Remember, you don't need to answer any of these--they're just there to motivate you. The important thing is: comment, mo-fo! If only five people end up following through, I'm going to be rather embarrassed, so don't fuck me on this, yo.

Tuesday, September 09, 2003


Earlier today I had yet another sure-to-be-unsuccessful commercial audition. One of the odd things about this process is how I invariably end up sitting in the waiting area with people I think I recognize. I'll walk in, make eye contact with someone I'm 100% sure I've met before--didn't I use to wait tables with that guy? Or was he in my Civil Liberties class at NYU? Or maybe he's a second cousin I haven't seen since I was 12. I definitely do know him, though--I'm sure of it. So I'll say something noncommittal, like "S'up, man", and throw him one of those little head bobs that we dudes are so fond of. In response, the guy will either awkwardly respond in kind or quickly pretend to be reading the paper. And it's at this moment that I realize that I don't receognize this guy because he's part of my everyday life, I recognize him because he's Beecher from "Oz".

This morning's audition was sort of a banner day for marginal celebrity watching. In addition to Beecher, the waiting room included the guy who played A.J.'s high school principal on "The Sopranos", a former member of "The State", the guy who played the Best Man that Sarah Jessica Parker had sex with on Sex and the City, and Britta Phillips, co-star of the 1988 Justine Bateman-Julia Roberts vehicle, Satisfaction and current bass player for Luna. "Daily Show" correspondent Mo Rocca was also there, but I don't count him becuase I've actually met him a bunch of times (I'm very important, you see). But Beecher is the only one I made the awkward head bob at. To his credit, he casually said "Hey," before pretending to make a phone call. He was much more laidback than former Gremlins star Zach Galligan was at last week's Verizon audition. He seemed to be making a distinct point of not making eye contact with anyone in the room. But then, if I went from starring in one of the most popular films of the 1980's to competing with a room full of nobodies for the honor of shilling wireless DSL, I'd probably want to keep a low profile, too.

The funny thing is, this marginal (and in this case there should be a word that's a whole lot stronger than "marginal") celebrity shit has actually been happening to me, lately. Yes, me--the guy who's barely done shit with his career and who, for the past two weeks, has spent every night lying awake in bed wondering how the holy fuck he's going to pay next month's rent. I get stopped on the street at least once a week because of that "Chappelle's Show" sketch I was on last year. And just like me at these commercial auditions, it takes these random people a solid 10 seconds before they decide that I am in fact not their upstairs neighbor, childhood classmate or ex-girlfriend's brother's co-worker. It's very odd. And how do I respond when someone looks at me with that tentative how-the-hell-do-I-know-this-guy expression? I toss them a casual head bob and then desperately pretend that I'm reading a newspaper. Smooooooth.

Mr. Demille, I'm ready for my marginal celebrity close-up. But in the meantime, can you loan me a few hundred bucks so I don't lose my cell phone service?

Sunday, September 07, 2003


I was walking through the East Village last week and I saw a young hipster wearing a t-shirt with the word "DEMILITARIZE!" across the front. Um...okay, I'll get right on that.

I wasn't exactly sure how to go about demilitarizing, but after a few days of silent contemplation, I knew I needed to make some changes. So from this day forward, I will no longer shop at Old Navy.

Friday, September 05, 2003


Hello, friends. I'm writing to you from my new hard drive. It works very nicely, but then so did my last one (snif sniff). I want to write a bonafide TOH entry (I will write a eulogy for that damned drive sometime over the weekend), but I just got banging out my silly Portable Comedy promo Email and I'm too damned exhusted to be creative for one moment longer. So, it shall have to do for today. If you live in NYC, you should definitely consider coming out to the show tonight--it's gonna be a good 'un.

And with that...


Greetings, friends. Tonight's installment of Portable Comedy is damn swell and, now that the Summer has officially come to an end, I am confident that you will choose to spend your Friday evening in the cozy bosom of the Gershwin Hotel.

But first, being that this is "back to school" week, I will now perform a dramatic transcription of character actor Mark Metcalf's opening soliloquy from Twisted Sister's seminal music video, "I Wanna Rock". Enjoy.

(SCENE: A high school class room. Students are laughing, high-fiving, trading bawdy stories of fast cars and summer romance. They are embracing the very essence of life itself.)

SFX: Door slam

(The students immediately cease conversation and direct their attention to the door. The TEACHER enters, grinning devlishly. He surveys the scene.)

TEACHER: Hello, students. School has begun, the summer is over. I am in command.
(The students collectively groan)
What was that? For that little outburst, each and every one of you will spend three hours in detention, today, immediately after school, in the BASEMENT!!

(We see a particularly rotund young student. There is a text book on his desk, the cover of which has been decorated with an expertly rendered "TS" emblem. The teacher approaches, nearly overcome with rage.)

What do you think you're doing? Twisted Sis-ter?! What kind of a man desecrates a defenseless text book? I've got a good mind to slap your fat face! You are destroying your life with that...that...that GARBAGE! All right, Mister Sister, I want you to tell me -- no, better yet, stand up and tell the class...

(The portly student ambles to his feet)


(The cherubic young Twisted Sister fan gathers up his courage. This is the moment he's been waiting for his entire life.)


(The boy instantly mutates into a freakishly tall 1970's-era Bette Midler drag impersonator.)


With that out of the way, let's check out tonight's fantastic PORTABLE COMEDY lineup:

CHRIS REGAN (Emmy award winning writer for "The Daily Show with Jon Stewart" and Comedy Central's "Premium Blend" alum)

TODD LEVIN (The man behind the oh-so-very-popular Tremble.com and a contributing writer for Jest Magazine)

DAN NEWBOWER (Former finalist in Comedy Central's "Laugh Riots" contest)

PEGGY O'BRIEN (Co-creator of "The Rules of Engagement", perhaps the greatest movie trailer parody of all time--go watch it at www.peggyandsteve.com!)

JUSTIN JAY (I used to know this guy simply as my former downstairs neighbor. Then, one day he starts in with this "I do comedy now" thing. And wouldn't you know it, he's funny as all heck. Seriously.)


And here are the details:

7 East 27th street
(b. 5th and Madison Ave)

Show up and get schooled.

Christian Finnegan,
Professor of Comedy

Wednesday, September 03, 2003


Let's all take a moment of silence for my computer's hard drive, which was pronounced dead earlier this evening, after slipping into a coma this past weekend. A proper eulogy will be given sometime over the next couple of days, once my new hard drive has been installed. Until then, I'm going to try and not think about the fact that I've now lost every bit of writing I've done in the past three years (other than what has been posted on this blog, obviously). And please, no sanctimonious lectures about "backing up". I don't think my heart can bear it right now.

Anyway, sorry my entires have been sporadic over the past week or so. Once this shellshocked feeling wears off and I get back up and running, I'll re-dedicate myself to the glorious and poignant inanity that is Tower of Hubris.

Tuesday, September 02, 2003


First of all, 'big ups' to the various people who wrote me with advice on what to do with my asshole of a computer. Nothing has really helped, leading me to believe that I may have gotten myself into some major league Tekserve hell bullshit. And comments are still down, goddamn it. But I'm not going to deal with that right now. For the time being, I'm just going to sit here in front of my girlfriend's computer, pet her dog, and try to figure out how I'm going to explain to her why I decided to break through her living room window while she was at work, just so I could write a blog entry.

Okay, that's not true--I didn't break any windows. I jimmied the door.*

It's odd being in someone's apartment when he/she's not there. I always get this strange urge to pull some mischievous shit. Nothing evil, of course--just rearrange little things, leave notes in odd places, etc. I mean, I'm over here at Kambri's all the time, so it's not really so big a deal. But I have this strange urge to take all of her socks and put them in the refridgerator. Or replace the contents of her medicine cabinet with those of her spice rack. Or leave a beautiful cake on the coffee table, on which something cryptic is written in frosting, a la, "Happy Hunting, Merlin!" Just something harmless that would make a person stop and say, "Um...what the fuck?".

Now in case my girlfriend is reading this, I'm not saying I actually did anything like that, but you may want to stand back a few feet before lifting the toilet seat.

* Also not true. No need to call the cops.