Christian will appear with Rachael Harris & Paul Scheer on the Today Show tomorrow at 7:40 AM.

Also, if you read today's NY Post, you'll see a spread about "indie" comedy which features some quotable quotes by Christian with his pic on the internet version. Unfortunately, they give the wrong credit for the photo, but I'm not too miffed by it because, hey, they included his pic in the first place!

REVENGE OF THE SITH & FLIcK MAGAZINE

With the premiere of Revenge of the Sith, came the launch of FLIcK Magazine with a column by none other than Christian Finnegan. Pick up your *free* copy at any Loews, Cinemark or Carmike Cinemas or avoid the geek scene altogether by downloading the whole darn thing here. Don't want to sift through the whole thing? Well, I'm all about choice, so here's another option: get only Christian's contribution by clicking here.

I'M SO 'TARD

There are so many things I could post right now, so many things I want to write about. And yet, all of my weak-hearted attempts at artistic excellence seem so pointless in the face of...this.

Click on rosie. You know you want to.

DARN TOOTIN'!

I recently saw a guy purchasing a copy of Playboy. In itself, not so extraordinary--Playboy has a large circulation, and that means that somebody somewhere is buying it. But it seems like if you're buying Playboy nowadays, you probably are reading it for the articles. Why else would you bother? Christ, now that we have the internet, the idea of buying a nudie magazine seems almost, I don't know...quaint. Old-timey, even. Like you'd walk a three miles down to the general store to buy some sasparilla, a container of Ol' Doc Haggerty's Purifying Hair Tonic and a copy of Hustler Magazine. And yet, I'm old enough to remember a day not so long ago when a lad's nudity choices were limited to scrambled Cinemax After Dark and said nudie magazines. It makes me feel old. It makes me worry that, one day, I'll be siiting down some young whippersnappers and saying something like:

"You know, back when I was twelve years old, we didn't have this whole worldwide interweb of yours. No, if we wanted to look at naked girlies, we had to go over to T.J. Ethier's house and sneak them out of his older brother's closet! You kids just give your mousies a clickety-clack, and you gots a whole treasure trove of naked boobies and behinds to slap your baloney to! But back in my day, you had to learn how to beat off with one hand and flip pages with the other! It was hard work--something you kids wouldn't know nothin' about! We didn't have no "MPEGs" and "Quicktime". The best we could do was when you'd flip the pages really fast, like it was one of them cartooony books! But that wat okay by us--we got along just fine. What you kids got goin', it just ain't special no more! These days, any Tom, Dick or Harry can have himself a live, one-on-one chat with a horny sorority slut in his area. In my day, we had to read about other people doin' it. It was a little something called "Penthouse Forum"--something you wouldn't know about, since kids these days don't like to read!"

This really is the kind of sparkling insight that makes me one of comedy's brightest minds.

YES, I'M NOW THAT ASSHOLE

A couple of weeks ago, my palm pilot shit the bed on me. So in order to prove to the world that I am an extravagant douchebag, I purchased the Treo 650, which is a Blackberry kind of thingy. Now I can look important by obsessively checking my Email in all sorts of awkward, hassle-inducing situations. God forbid I go twenty minutes without knowing that one of my friends has sent me a picture of his baby son wearing a Burger King crown. Anyone need a stock quote? Anyone?

I really have no idea what this damn gadget is capable of--no shit, the user's manual is 349 pages long. How am I supposed to get the most out of my impulse purchase and stick to my strict no-reading regimen at the same time? Well, I've broken down and started to plow through this ridiculous tome, and it's pretty amazing, all of the things my new phone/calendar/web browser/dick compensator can do. For instance, I can take up to twelve minutes of goddamn, bonafide motion picture footage on this thing. Eventually, I'll figure out how to post these mini-movies on this site, and then you'll get the pleasure of watching my girlfriend making a drunken 311 call to complain about some guy who was driving a Hummer and talking on his cell phone. Here's a teaser quote: "What do you mean he's not being reckless? He's driving a Hummer? Do you know how much fuel a Hummer uses...? He's endangering the lives of everybody!" Slur every third word and throw in a few hiccups and you're halfway there.

I also shot some footage just last night of Unchained, the "Mighty Van Halen Tribute", who were performing live at my favorite shitty bar here in Astoria. You may be saying to yourself, "Wow, you really got lucky, going to a bar where there just happened to be a cheesy cover band playing! How gloriously kitschy and ironic!" Truth is, this is the third (yes, third) time Kambri and I have gone to see Unchained (It should be noted that this was the first time the band actually played. The first time the show was cancelled because the bass player broke his ribs and the second time there wasn't enough of an audience, so they bailed.), and there was absolutely no ironic distance involved. These guys totally rocked, in a way that only four dudes from Jersey ripping through "Ain't talkin' 'Bout Love" can. Pseudo Eddie Van Halen totally knew his shit and Pseudo David Lee Roth was spot on--the voice was perfect, he did all the wonderfully silly kick moves and he had that weird David Lee Roth yelp/shriek thing down pat. The audio on the footage I have is pretty unintelligible, but it's still pretty sweet. Sadly, I accidently deleted the crown jewel of my digital collection: a bit of between-song banter, where Pseudo David Lee Roth exhorts the crowd to take advantage of the bar's drink specials.

...Okay, maybe there was a little bit of ironic distance involved.

Point is, aren't you jealous of my stupid new phone?