HOLA, BATFUCKERS!
Hello, honored friends. If/when you go see Batman Begins (and you should--it's pretty damn good), you may be lucky enough to pick up an issue of FLIcK Magazine (available at all Loews, Cinemark and Carmike theaters), which features a gloriously stupid piece by yours truly. Or, you could just go read it online. Here it is:
LESSER KNOWN ITEMS ON BATMAN'S UTILITY BELT
Of course, the editors of FLIcK made some cuts. Here are the gems left out of the final piece:
THE BAT ALLEN WRENCH -- This is used primarily to assemble inexpensive Scandanavian furniture. You'd be surprised how often that comes up.
BATWIPES -- Batman's enemies aren't just evil--they're also dirty. Seriously, have you ever seen the Penguin's secret lair under a black light? Eww. Luckily, Batman has sanitized handwipes to rid himself of those tiny supervillains known as "germs". They also give his latex bodysuit a sexy sheen.
THE BATT-EE CUSION (they included this one in the article, but trimmed it down) -- When you spend your life living in a cave and battling the dark side of human nature, you need a cheap giggle every once in a while. So when Batman wants to lighten the mood, out comes the Batt-ee Cushion. And it doesn't hurt that Robin is so gullible. It usually goes something like, "Holy demolition, Batman! We've got to get to the Batmobile! With that much TNT, the Riddler could blow up the entire--FFRRRRRIPPPPP! ...Okay, you got me. Good one."
THE BAT GUN -- This is just a gun, basically. Not everything has to be some super-wacky gadget, you know. Sometimes Batman just has to shoot some dude.
THE BAT BAT -- For use in the Hall of Justice Intramural Softball League. Some of the other heroes have complained about Batman's high tech equipment, but until a certain you-know-who agrees to stop stealing signals with his x-ray vision, The Dark Knight ain't budging.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
MY FATHER, THE TELEVISION STAR
I know this page has been increasingly plug-heavy (and humor-light) over the past few months, but this is one thing I have to mention:
As you may or may not know, Comedy Central airs three and half hours of stand up comedy every Friday night (shows like "Premium Blend", "Comedy Central Presents", etc.). They promote this block of programming under the name "Friday Night Stand-Up"--the same way NBC used to label their Thursday night lineup "Must-See TV". Anyway, Comedy Central often has a comedian or comic actor "host" this Friday night lineup--and by "host", I mean "show up on screen for a minute or two in-between shows and occasinally after commercial breaks to do a bit of schtick". For instance, when my episode of "Comedy Central Presents" premiered a couple of days before St. Patrick's Day, "Friday Night Stand Up" was hosted by the incomperable (and very Irish) Tom Shillue. And just last week, it was hosted by the extremely comparable Cedric "The Entertainer" and Mike Epps, who were promoting their "Honeymooners" re-make (I can't wait to see it!!!!!*).
For this week's installment of "Friday Night Stand Up", Comedy Central decided to go for a father/son angle (being that it's two days before Father's Day, and all). Luckily for me, it appears that I am the only comic in New York City who's on speaking terms with his father. Three cheers for being semi-well adjusted! So a few weeks ago my dad and I were sent out to a miniature golf course in Connecticut, where we filmed all sorts of goofy shit. It all airs tomorrow night (June 17th), starting at 8:30pm and continuing on at various times up until midnight. I've seen the footage and I think it's all really funny. My dad is a very good sport and a surprisingly good straight-man.
In many ways, working on this was the greatest moment of my "career", if for no other reason than how much it seemed to delight my dad. He's always been extremely supportive (emotionally and at times monitarily), so it was cool to kind of return the favor in some small way. And I think he really enjoyed seeing how the TV world operates--granted, at the most spratan, basic-cable level. He's now a bit of a diva, to be honest--he's constantly hanging out at Bungalow 8 and doing blow with Lindsay Lohan's dad
My favorite moment: My dad was kind of overwhelmed at how many people there were milling around the "set". There were probably 15-20 people involved, which really isn't very big at all for a "location shoot". But I think my dad was just expecting it to be me, him, and some guy toting a camcorder. At one point while they were setting up for a shot, he whispered in my ear, "You see that woman who's been standing there all day? The one with the orange scarf? What is her JOB?!" He wasn't being malicious--it was just an innocent question. I then very quietly reminded my dad that he was wearing a lapel mic. We turned towards the crew and everyone wearing a headset started laughing. Sweet.
Anyway, if you's suffering some sort of head trauma and find yourself at home on Friday night, flip over to Comedy Central and check it out. I think there's some genuinely funny shit there.
* Yes, this is a joke.
I know this page has been increasingly plug-heavy (and humor-light) over the past few months, but this is one thing I have to mention:
As you may or may not know, Comedy Central airs three and half hours of stand up comedy every Friday night (shows like "Premium Blend", "Comedy Central Presents", etc.). They promote this block of programming under the name "Friday Night Stand-Up"--the same way NBC used to label their Thursday night lineup "Must-See TV". Anyway, Comedy Central often has a comedian or comic actor "host" this Friday night lineup--and by "host", I mean "show up on screen for a minute or two in-between shows and occasinally after commercial breaks to do a bit of schtick". For instance, when my episode of "Comedy Central Presents" premiered a couple of days before St. Patrick's Day, "Friday Night Stand Up" was hosted by the incomperable (and very Irish) Tom Shillue. And just last week, it was hosted by the extremely comparable Cedric "The Entertainer" and Mike Epps, who were promoting their "Honeymooners" re-make (I can't wait to see it!!!!!*).
For this week's installment of "Friday Night Stand Up", Comedy Central decided to go for a father/son angle (being that it's two days before Father's Day, and all). Luckily for me, it appears that I am the only comic in New York City who's on speaking terms with his father. Three cheers for being semi-well adjusted! So a few weeks ago my dad and I were sent out to a miniature golf course in Connecticut, where we filmed all sorts of goofy shit. It all airs tomorrow night (June 17th), starting at 8:30pm and continuing on at various times up until midnight. I've seen the footage and I think it's all really funny. My dad is a very good sport and a surprisingly good straight-man.
In many ways, working on this was the greatest moment of my "career", if for no other reason than how much it seemed to delight my dad. He's always been extremely supportive (emotionally and at times monitarily), so it was cool to kind of return the favor in some small way. And I think he really enjoyed seeing how the TV world operates--granted, at the most spratan, basic-cable level. He's now a bit of a diva, to be honest--he's constantly hanging out at Bungalow 8 and doing blow with Lindsay Lohan's dad
My favorite moment: My dad was kind of overwhelmed at how many people there were milling around the "set". There were probably 15-20 people involved, which really isn't very big at all for a "location shoot". But I think my dad was just expecting it to be me, him, and some guy toting a camcorder. At one point while they were setting up for a shot, he whispered in my ear, "You see that woman who's been standing there all day? The one with the orange scarf? What is her JOB?!" He wasn't being malicious--it was just an innocent question. I then very quietly reminded my dad that he was wearing a lapel mic. We turned towards the crew and everyone wearing a headset started laughing. Sweet.
Anyway, if you's suffering some sort of head trauma and find yourself at home on Friday night, flip over to Comedy Central and check it out. I think there's some genuinely funny shit there.
* Yes, this is a joke.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
HOT HOT HEAT (My bi-ennial TOH Posting)
Did you ever notice how short the interval is between "Boy, I can't wait for Summer!" and "Fuck THIS shit."? In New York, I think that "Hooray for warm weather" period lasted about five days this year. Now it's all just a sweaty malaise. I don't know what the weather has been like where YOU live, but here in New York City, it's been like a marathon runner's nutsack for at least two weeks. The heat makes me loathe every thing and every one. And yet I'm too exhausted to actually do or say anything about it. So I just sit around all day in a near-vegetative state, occasionally showing my faint disgust for people, places and things by rolling my eyes--like Terri Schiavo with a bad attitude.
I don't even try to look nice when I leave the house anymore, because I know that by the time I get wherever I'm going, I'll look like I just escaped a Vietnamese P.O.W. camp. Weather like this is never good for your self-esteem. You're never going to look in the mirror and say "Yes! That's the look I was going for! I want to look like I just rubbed bacon all over my face! More sweat stains, please!"
Its even worse for me because I live with my girlfriend. So not only do I have to deal with my self-loathing, I have to navigate hers as well. We'll be on our way to some sort of party or get-together in this godforsaken heat, covered in sweaty filth, and she'll give me that "I look disgusting right now, don't I?" crap. There's never a suitable answer to a question like this--your choice is pretty much "Do I want to sound like an asshole or a liar?" I wish I could just be honest and say, "Well, sweetheart. Are you more beautiful at this moment that I've ever seen you before? Well, no. ...But I'd still fuck you. Sure I would! Yeah, I've slept with lots of women uglier than you look right now!" Something makes me think that wouldn't go over too well.
I desperately need a vacation. And it just so happens that Kambri and I are going away next week...to the Caribbean. Yep, that's my solution for beating the heat: head someplace even fucking hotter! But the heat in the Caribbean is different--you're on the beach, you're drinking rum punch, you're able to convince yourself that all of the resort workers don't secretly want you to die, etc. It's hot, but relaxing--like a sauna. Not like New York, where you spend the Summer months basting in urine vapors and body odor.
I'm actually taking Kambri on this little vacation for her birthday (it's June 22nd, people--we're registered here). We went to Anguilla last year and loved it, so I knew we wanted to go back to the Caribbean, but I wanted to pick someplace cool. The Caribbean is full of cheesy shit to be avoided at all costs--limbo contests, the Buster Poindexter song "Hot Hot Hot", etc. So I started to make a checklist of all the places I defintely didn't want to go: Aruba, Jamaica, Bermuda...basically, any place that's mentioned in the song "Kokomo" is to be avoided, I would think. we ended up settling on Turks and Caicos, an island I'd never heard of and know very little about. I was initially drawn to the name because it sounds kind of Dungeons & Dragons-y. Like maybe the place is inhabited by bugbears and/or a githyanki.
Have I revealed too much? Perhaps.
Did you ever notice how short the interval is between "Boy, I can't wait for Summer!" and "Fuck THIS shit."? In New York, I think that "Hooray for warm weather" period lasted about five days this year. Now it's all just a sweaty malaise. I don't know what the weather has been like where YOU live, but here in New York City, it's been like a marathon runner's nutsack for at least two weeks. The heat makes me loathe every thing and every one. And yet I'm too exhausted to actually do or say anything about it. So I just sit around all day in a near-vegetative state, occasionally showing my faint disgust for people, places and things by rolling my eyes--like Terri Schiavo with a bad attitude.
I don't even try to look nice when I leave the house anymore, because I know that by the time I get wherever I'm going, I'll look like I just escaped a Vietnamese P.O.W. camp. Weather like this is never good for your self-esteem. You're never going to look in the mirror and say "Yes! That's the look I was going for! I want to look like I just rubbed bacon all over my face! More sweat stains, please!"
Its even worse for me because I live with my girlfriend. So not only do I have to deal with my self-loathing, I have to navigate hers as well. We'll be on our way to some sort of party or get-together in this godforsaken heat, covered in sweaty filth, and she'll give me that "I look disgusting right now, don't I?" crap. There's never a suitable answer to a question like this--your choice is pretty much "Do I want to sound like an asshole or a liar?" I wish I could just be honest and say, "Well, sweetheart. Are you more beautiful at this moment that I've ever seen you before? Well, no. ...But I'd still fuck you. Sure I would! Yeah, I've slept with lots of women uglier than you look right now!" Something makes me think that wouldn't go over too well.
I desperately need a vacation. And it just so happens that Kambri and I are going away next week...to the Caribbean. Yep, that's my solution for beating the heat: head someplace even fucking hotter! But the heat in the Caribbean is different--you're on the beach, you're drinking rum punch, you're able to convince yourself that all of the resort workers don't secretly want you to die, etc. It's hot, but relaxing--like a sauna. Not like New York, where you spend the Summer months basting in urine vapors and body odor.
I'm actually taking Kambri on this little vacation for her birthday (it's June 22nd, people--we're registered here). We went to Anguilla last year and loved it, so I knew we wanted to go back to the Caribbean, but I wanted to pick someplace cool. The Caribbean is full of cheesy shit to be avoided at all costs--limbo contests, the Buster Poindexter song "Hot Hot Hot", etc. So I started to make a checklist of all the places I defintely didn't want to go: Aruba, Jamaica, Bermuda...basically, any place that's mentioned in the song "Kokomo" is to be avoided, I would think. we ended up settling on Turks and Caicos, an island I'd never heard of and know very little about. I was initially drawn to the name because it sounds kind of Dungeons & Dragons-y. Like maybe the place is inhabited by bugbears and/or a githyanki.
Have I revealed too much? Perhaps.
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