MORE TOUR DATES
Hello, Tower of Hubrites.
As you know, I just started up a fancy-schmancy college tour sponsored by Comedy Central. Rather than me blathering on about it (again), check out this little clip:
Kind of cool, huh? Anyway, the tour brings us to NYU tonight (1/25) and Northwestern on Saturday (1/27). If you live in NYC or Chicago, come on out to the show. I promise nothing less than excellence! Both shows are open to the public--for ticket info, check out the main tour page at comedycentral.com.
Also, to reiterate: this Friday night Comedy Central will be airing a number of short promotional spots for the tour from 8pm to 11pm, as part of their Friday Night Stand Up lineup. I dare say they're pretty funny. Here's one of them:
That's all for now. Check back here for more details.
Thank you for your continued support.
Monday, January 22, 2007
MY BIG VIACOM-APPROVED TOUR BEGINS!!
Friends, Well-Wishers and "Other":
Comedy Central, in its infinite wisdom (well, except for "That's My Bush!"), has decided to sponsor a college tour featuring yours truly. In fact, in honor of my debut cd (available in stores and online, btw) they're calling it:
COMEDY CENTRAL ON CAMPUS: CHRISTIAN FINNEGAN'S "TWO FOR FLINCHING" TOUR
Pretty sweet, no? Over the next three or so months I will be heading to 20-30 fully accredited institutions of higher learning, articulate dick jokes and ill-informed social commentary at the ready. There's so much I want to mention about the tour, but I'm having trouble organizing my thoughts. So I'm going to turn these random items of interest into thoguhtful answers to questions I'm going to pretend you've just asked me. Such as:
WHY ARE YOU BRINGING THIS UP TODAY?
Well I'm not sure I like your tone, but I'm bringing it up because the VERY FIRST SHOW of the tour takes place tonight at UMass Lowell. Also, there are huge shows later this week at NYU on Thursday 1/25 and Northwestern on Saturday, 1/27. Dates are still being added, so make sure to check back with the main tour page every once in a while..
HOW DO I KNOW YOU'RE TELLING THE TRUTH ABOUT THIS SO-CALLED TOUR?
Thanks for asking. Starting this week, Comedy Central will be airing a couple of kick-arse commercials. Want to see one? Your wish is my command.
IS THAT IT?
Not even close. This Friday 1/26 from 7pm to 11pm, Comedy Central will also be aring a bunch of short interstitial clips we shot, as part of their "Friday Night Stand-Up" lineup, from 8pm to 11pm. As a teaser, here's one of the spots we shot: a cautionary tale about the dreaded Dorm Wanderer. I'll be including more of these clips on the site over the next couple of months, but try and tune in Friday so you can see them all in their true TV glory.
WILL THERE BE OTHER COMEDIANS ON THE BILL?
I'm not good enough for you? Well then, you're in luck. Among the comics scheduled to appear at one point or another: Zach Galifanakis, Charlie Murphy, Greg Giraldo, Tracey Morgan, Nick Swardson, Nick Thune, Jesse Joyce, Nick Kroll, Joe DeRosa, Andres DuBouchet, Eric O'Shea and more!
CAN REGULAR FOLKS LIKE ME ATTEND THIS SUREFIRE COMEDY EXTRAVAGANZA?
Um, I can't tell whether or not you're being sarcastic so I'll take your question at face value. While some tour dates do appear to be "students only", others are indeed open to the general public. For specific ticket info, head back over to the main tour page.
ANYTHING UNUSUAL ABOUT THESE SHOWS? YOU KNOW, 'QUIRKY'?
Funny you mention it. Every show on the Two For Flinching tour will culminate in two students locking horns in fierce intellectual combat, live on stage. At stake? Lots of fun prizes and...THE COMEDY CENTRAL FOURTEEN DOLLAR SCHOLARSHIP! That's right, I will be awarding fourteen American dollars to one lucky student at each school, helping make his or her career dreams become a reality. No, don't thank me--charity is its own reward. Think you have the brains, charm and poise to score this once-in-a-lifetime prize? Come out to a show and make sure you fill out an entry card.
WILL THERE BE WACKY BEHIND-THE-SCENES FOOTAGE? BECAUSE I LOVE WACKY BEHIND-THE-SCENES FOOTAGE!
I'm quite sure you do. Yes, we will be shooting some footage whilst out on "the road", but I cannot promise it will be wacky. I am aiming for "amusing" and "worth blowing off five minutes of porn for", though. More to come on this.
WILL YOU BE BLOGGING ON THE ROAD?
Dammit, haven't I told you a million times I can't stand it when you use the word "blog" as a verb? Please, try and avoid that. But I will writing wrap-ups of each and every tour date and, yes, I will be posting said wrap-ups on this blog under the heading, "THE TWO FOR FLINCHING TOUR DIARIES". This sojourn is not exactly what you might think of as a "tour", in that we won't be living on a bus for long stretches of time, a la Motley Crue. The Two For Flinching dates are spread out over a few months, so I'll be out on the road for a few days, back home for a while, out again for a couple of days, etc. So on the days I'm "touring", I'll be posting the tour diaries--the show wraps-ups will appear a day or two after each gig and will no doubt include lots of dispraging remarks about whatever part of the country I happen to be in at that moment. Otherwise, it will just be the random e-nonsense you've come to tolerate from me.
I suppose that's enough for now. If you come back to this site on a regular basis (and if you don't, you really should), you'll be hearing lots more about this. Thanks for your continued support. You are, each and every one of you, my hero.
Friends, Well-Wishers and "Other":
Comedy Central, in its infinite wisdom (well, except for "That's My Bush!"), has decided to sponsor a college tour featuring yours truly. In fact, in honor of my debut cd (available in stores and online, btw) they're calling it:
COMEDY CENTRAL ON CAMPUS: CHRISTIAN FINNEGAN'S "TWO FOR FLINCHING" TOUR
Pretty sweet, no? Over the next three or so months I will be heading to 20-30 fully accredited institutions of higher learning, articulate dick jokes and ill-informed social commentary at the ready. There's so much I want to mention about the tour, but I'm having trouble organizing my thoughts. So I'm going to turn these random items of interest into thoguhtful answers to questions I'm going to pretend you've just asked me. Such as:
WHY ARE YOU BRINGING THIS UP TODAY?
Well I'm not sure I like your tone, but I'm bringing it up because the VERY FIRST SHOW of the tour takes place tonight at UMass Lowell. Also, there are huge shows later this week at NYU on Thursday 1/25 and Northwestern on Saturday, 1/27. Dates are still being added, so make sure to check back with the main tour page every once in a while..
HOW DO I KNOW YOU'RE TELLING THE TRUTH ABOUT THIS SO-CALLED TOUR?
Thanks for asking. Starting this week, Comedy Central will be airing a couple of kick-arse commercials. Want to see one? Your wish is my command.
IS THAT IT?
Not even close. This Friday 1/26 from 7pm to 11pm, Comedy Central will also be aring a bunch of short interstitial clips we shot, as part of their "Friday Night Stand-Up" lineup, from 8pm to 11pm. As a teaser, here's one of the spots we shot: a cautionary tale about the dreaded Dorm Wanderer. I'll be including more of these clips on the site over the next couple of months, but try and tune in Friday so you can see them all in their true TV glory.
WILL THERE BE OTHER COMEDIANS ON THE BILL?
I'm not good enough for you? Well then, you're in luck. Among the comics scheduled to appear at one point or another: Zach Galifanakis, Charlie Murphy, Greg Giraldo, Tracey Morgan, Nick Swardson, Nick Thune, Jesse Joyce, Nick Kroll, Joe DeRosa, Andres DuBouchet, Eric O'Shea and more!
CAN REGULAR FOLKS LIKE ME ATTEND THIS SUREFIRE COMEDY EXTRAVAGANZA?
Um, I can't tell whether or not you're being sarcastic so I'll take your question at face value. While some tour dates do appear to be "students only", others are indeed open to the general public. For specific ticket info, head back over to the main tour page.
ANYTHING UNUSUAL ABOUT THESE SHOWS? YOU KNOW, 'QUIRKY'?
Funny you mention it. Every show on the Two For Flinching tour will culminate in two students locking horns in fierce intellectual combat, live on stage. At stake? Lots of fun prizes and...THE COMEDY CENTRAL FOURTEEN DOLLAR SCHOLARSHIP! That's right, I will be awarding fourteen American dollars to one lucky student at each school, helping make his or her career dreams become a reality. No, don't thank me--charity is its own reward. Think you have the brains, charm and poise to score this once-in-a-lifetime prize? Come out to a show and make sure you fill out an entry card.
WILL THERE BE WACKY BEHIND-THE-SCENES FOOTAGE? BECAUSE I LOVE WACKY BEHIND-THE-SCENES FOOTAGE!
I'm quite sure you do. Yes, we will be shooting some footage whilst out on "the road", but I cannot promise it will be wacky. I am aiming for "amusing" and "worth blowing off five minutes of porn for", though. More to come on this.
WILL YOU BE BLOGGING ON THE ROAD?
Dammit, haven't I told you a million times I can't stand it when you use the word "blog" as a verb? Please, try and avoid that. But I will writing wrap-ups of each and every tour date and, yes, I will be posting said wrap-ups on this blog under the heading, "THE TWO FOR FLINCHING TOUR DIARIES". This sojourn is not exactly what you might think of as a "tour", in that we won't be living on a bus for long stretches of time, a la Motley Crue. The Two For Flinching dates are spread out over a few months, so I'll be out on the road for a few days, back home for a while, out again for a couple of days, etc. So on the days I'm "touring", I'll be posting the tour diaries--the show wraps-ups will appear a day or two after each gig and will no doubt include lots of dispraging remarks about whatever part of the country I happen to be in at that moment. Otherwise, it will just be the random e-nonsense you've come to tolerate from me.
I suppose that's enough for now. If you come back to this site on a regular basis (and if you don't, you really should), you'll be hearing lots more about this. Thanks for your continued support. You are, each and every one of you, my hero.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
RANDOM MUSING THURSDAY:
HALF-ASSED CHALLENGE OF THE DAY!
Your challenge: At some point today, try slipping the word 'merriment' in conversation without being looked at like a weirdo. The only rule is, you must use the word in the proper context, and with complete sincerity--no air quotes or ironic eyebrow raising.
This has been your Half-Assed Challenge of the Day.
HALF-ASSED CHALLENGE OF THE DAY!
Your challenge: At some point today, try slipping the word 'merriment' in conversation without being looked at like a weirdo. The only rule is, you must use the word in the proper context, and with complete sincerity--no air quotes or ironic eyebrow raising.
This has been your Half-Assed Challenge of the Day.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
SELF-ANALYSIS MONDAY:
SELF-PIMPING AIN'T EASY
Okay, here's the deal: Comedy Central is once again running it's "Stand-Up Showdown". This is where CC pits comedians against eachother to see who...well, who's fans have the most amount of free time to sit in front of the computer and click "VOTE FOR ME". If you were reading this site last year, you'll remember I flogged this competition rather tirelessly. I'm not going to do that this year, mostly because I found the whole "scrounging for votes" thing a tad undignified. Oh yeah, and I'm incredibly lazy. But I will probably mention it a couple of times over the next few weeks, starting right now.
So if you're so inclined, please do put in a vote for me by clicking below. Remember, every time you vote for me, a Malaysian sweatshop worker gets a pack of SnackWell cookies. You wouldn't want to deprive a young boy of his SnackWell cookies, would you?
SELF-PIMPING AIN'T EASY
Okay, here's the deal: Comedy Central is once again running it's "Stand-Up Showdown". This is where CC pits comedians against eachother to see who...well, who's fans have the most amount of free time to sit in front of the computer and click "VOTE FOR ME". If you were reading this site last year, you'll remember I flogged this competition rather tirelessly. I'm not going to do that this year, mostly because I found the whole "scrounging for votes" thing a tad undignified. Oh yeah, and I'm incredibly lazy. But I will probably mention it a couple of times over the next few weeks, starting right now.
So if you're so inclined, please do put in a vote for me by clicking below. Remember, every time you vote for me, a Malaysian sweatshop worker gets a pack of SnackWell cookies. You wouldn't want to deprive a young boy of his SnackWell cookies, would you?
Thursday, January 04, 2007
RANDOM MUSING THURSDAY:
HOW TO BE A GOOD TOURIST IN NYC
So the holiday tourist season is officially over and I feel like I have to take a moment to apologize to all of the Midwestern housewives, Arizona fratboys and acidwash-clad Europeans who were jostled, bumped and otherwise abused by us 'rude New Yorkers' over the past month or so. It is true--we can be a tad abrupt in this city. But I ask you to consider this: many of us are very busy and you guys do tend to get in the way a bit.
You have to understand, New York was planned very poorly. For some reason, the two most scenic neighborhoods in Manhattan (Times Square and Rockefeller Plaza) happen to be littered with high-rise office buildings. So the people who 'rudely' bump into your church group as you try to decide between Planet Hollywood and the Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. are not just scurrying along to piss you off--they're trying to get to work. Imagine if you went to work one day, only to find they'd opened a petting zoo in your office. Would you keep an even temper if everytime you went to the fax amchine, there was some fat little kid in the way hand-feeding a llama? Sure it might be cute at first, but by Day Nine you'd be ready to take a life.
This is not a hopeless situation. We can all share this beautiful city--natives, transplants (like me) and visitors alike. I would only ask you to obey the laws of traffic. Remember, New York is a pedestrian city. Think of the subways as interstates and avenues (like Broadway) and cross-streets (like 42nd st.) as highways. If you really want to stop and marvel at the sights of Times Square ("Ooo, a really big Toys R Us!!"), pull over. Imagine if, as you were on your morning commute, some asshole stopped his car dead in the middle of the highway so he could admire an overpass ("Hey, lookie here--Rob loves Gina!"). You'd be a bit peeved, would you not? Perhaps you might even seem a little bit...rude?
Look, I'm not saying New Yorkers can't be dicks--we/they are huge assholes in a number of ways. But the next time someone "accidently" shoulder checks you outside of the Today Show or scowls as you jockey to have your picture taken with the Naked Cowboy (New Yorkers loathe that fuckwad, by the way), don't assume we're just determined to kill your buzz. There's a good chance we're just trying to get through the day without strangling a Missouri housewife with her fannypack strap.
I guess this is the kid of shit that makes the rest of the country hate all of us 'coastal elites', eh?
HOW TO BE A GOOD TOURIST IN NYC
So the holiday tourist season is officially over and I feel like I have to take a moment to apologize to all of the Midwestern housewives, Arizona fratboys and acidwash-clad Europeans who were jostled, bumped and otherwise abused by us 'rude New Yorkers' over the past month or so. It is true--we can be a tad abrupt in this city. But I ask you to consider this: many of us are very busy and you guys do tend to get in the way a bit.
You have to understand, New York was planned very poorly. For some reason, the two most scenic neighborhoods in Manhattan (Times Square and Rockefeller Plaza) happen to be littered with high-rise office buildings. So the people who 'rudely' bump into your church group as you try to decide between Planet Hollywood and the Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. are not just scurrying along to piss you off--they're trying to get to work. Imagine if you went to work one day, only to find they'd opened a petting zoo in your office. Would you keep an even temper if everytime you went to the fax amchine, there was some fat little kid in the way hand-feeding a llama? Sure it might be cute at first, but by Day Nine you'd be ready to take a life.
This is not a hopeless situation. We can all share this beautiful city--natives, transplants (like me) and visitors alike. I would only ask you to obey the laws of traffic. Remember, New York is a pedestrian city. Think of the subways as interstates and avenues (like Broadway) and cross-streets (like 42nd st.) as highways. If you really want to stop and marvel at the sights of Times Square ("Ooo, a really big Toys R Us!!"), pull over. Imagine if, as you were on your morning commute, some asshole stopped his car dead in the middle of the highway so he could admire an overpass ("Hey, lookie here--Rob loves Gina!"). You'd be a bit peeved, would you not? Perhaps you might even seem a little bit...rude?
Look, I'm not saying New Yorkers can't be dicks--we/they are huge assholes in a number of ways. But the next time someone "accidently" shoulder checks you outside of the Today Show or scowls as you jockey to have your picture taken with the Naked Cowboy (New Yorkers loathe that fuckwad, by the way), don't assume we're just determined to kill your buzz. There's a good chance we're just trying to get through the day without strangling a Missouri housewife with her fannypack strap.
I guess this is the kid of shit that makes the rest of the country hate all of us 'coastal elites', eh?
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
WEDNESDAY IS LIST DAY
NEW YEARS' RESOLUTIONS OF THE RANDOM AND NOTEWORTHY
To welcome in 2007, let's take a look at the New Year's resolutions of some of my personal friends, such as:
SOON-TO-BE-TRADED YANKEES PITCHER RANDY JOHNSON
1) Steal money from homeless person
2) Punch baby in face
3) Re-grow kick ass mullet
RECORDING SENSATION AND PEE FETISH ICON FERGIE
1) Remember to always tinkle before heading to the stage
2) Find ways to plaster face with even more makeup
3) Enjoy seven remaining minutes
INTERNATIONAL MEGASTAR JACKEE
1) Inject even more sass into everyday interactons
2) Upload "227" clips onto YouTube
3) Contact Rodney about "Ladybugs" sequel
FORMER GENERAL ELECTRIC CEO JACK WLECH
1) Apply "Welch's Rules" to illegal cockfighting industry
2) Spend more time with Jermaine Jackson
3) Schedule ten minutes a day to tuck penis between legs and stand in front of mirror
IRAQI CLERIC MOQTADA AL SADR
1) Stop making excuses and get sock puppet business off ground
2) Get abs totally ripped in time for Ramadan
3) Conquer "GTA: San Andreas" side missions without using cheat codes
MOVIE STAR SISTERS DAKOTA AND ELLE FANNING
1) Poison neighbor's dog, blame it on Asian kid down street
2) Arrange joint interview on Access Hollywood, reveal Holocaust as hoax
3) Enact "Operation Viper"
NEW YEARS' RESOLUTIONS OF THE RANDOM AND NOTEWORTHY
To welcome in 2007, let's take a look at the New Year's resolutions of some of my personal friends, such as:
SOON-TO-BE-TRADED YANKEES PITCHER RANDY JOHNSON
1) Steal money from homeless person
2) Punch baby in face
3) Re-grow kick ass mullet
RECORDING SENSATION AND PEE FETISH ICON FERGIE
1) Remember to always tinkle before heading to the stage
2) Find ways to plaster face with even more makeup
3) Enjoy seven remaining minutes
INTERNATIONAL MEGASTAR JACKEE
1) Inject even more sass into everyday interactons
2) Upload "227" clips onto YouTube
3) Contact Rodney about "Ladybugs" sequel
FORMER GENERAL ELECTRIC CEO JACK WLECH
1) Apply "Welch's Rules" to illegal cockfighting industry
2) Spend more time with Jermaine Jackson
3) Schedule ten minutes a day to tuck penis between legs and stand in front of mirror
IRAQI CLERIC MOQTADA AL SADR
1) Stop making excuses and get sock puppet business off ground
2) Get abs totally ripped in time for Ramadan
3) Conquer "GTA: San Andreas" side missions without using cheat codes
MOVIE STAR SISTERS DAKOTA AND ELLE FANNING
1) Poison neighbor's dog, blame it on Asian kid down street
2) Arrange joint interview on Access Hollywood, reveal Holocaust as hoax
3) Enact "Operation Viper"
Saturday, December 30, 2006
SATURDAY MID-AFTERNOON SPECIAL
WHAT YOUR HOLIDAY GIFTS SAY ABOUT YOU
So it's a few days after Christmas and it's time to take inventory of all the junk you received. Here's a little something I taped for the Best Week Ever website.
Enjoy!
WHAT YOUR HOLIDAY GIFTS SAY ABOUT YOU
So it's a few days after Christmas and it's time to take inventory of all the junk you received. Here's a little something I taped for the Best Week Ever website.
Enjoy!
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
HEY, FLORIDIANS!
Just letting all of you Sunshine Staters know that I'll be performing at the Ft. Lauderdale Improv this weekend, from Thursday 12/28 to Saturday 12/30. So put down your brand new Nintendo Wii or "Grey's Anatomy, Season Two" DVD and come out to a show. I promise to say lots of very funny things and that those funny thing will be properly amplified via microphone technology. And think of the added bonuses:
1) The Ft. Lauderdale Improv is adjacent to the Hard Rock Seminole Hotel and Casino, so after the show you can win back all of that holiday cash you wasted on your family.
2) You'll be able to cross "See the world’s most scintillating stand-up comedy show not involving watermelons" off of your New Year’s resolutions before the New Year has even begun!
3) I'll be selling and signing copies of my new CD, "Two For Flinching". What better way to try to make amends for the semi-degrading lingerie you bought for your wife?
4) Feeling a bit porky from all your yuletide binging? Well laughter burns up to 85 calories a minute! Where do I get that statistic, you ask? I made it up, fuckface! But laughing at my highly articulate dick jokes ain’t gonna make you any fatter--that’s the Christian Finnegan guarantee.
Please don't resist--you'll just end up embarrassing both of us. Here are the details:
Christian Finnegan @ The Ft. Lauderdale Improv
December 28 -30
5700 Seminole Way
Hollywood, FL 33314
Click here for tickets and stuff
See you there, friendlies.
Regards,
me
Just letting all of you Sunshine Staters know that I'll be performing at the Ft. Lauderdale Improv this weekend, from Thursday 12/28 to Saturday 12/30. So put down your brand new Nintendo Wii or "Grey's Anatomy, Season Two" DVD and come out to a show. I promise to say lots of very funny things and that those funny thing will be properly amplified via microphone technology. And think of the added bonuses:
1) The Ft. Lauderdale Improv is adjacent to the Hard Rock Seminole Hotel and Casino, so after the show you can win back all of that holiday cash you wasted on your family.
2) You'll be able to cross "See the world’s most scintillating stand-up comedy show not involving watermelons" off of your New Year’s resolutions before the New Year has even begun!
3) I'll be selling and signing copies of my new CD, "Two For Flinching". What better way to try to make amends for the semi-degrading lingerie you bought for your wife?
4) Feeling a bit porky from all your yuletide binging? Well laughter burns up to 85 calories a minute! Where do I get that statistic, you ask? I made it up, fuckface! But laughing at my highly articulate dick jokes ain’t gonna make you any fatter--that’s the Christian Finnegan guarantee.
Please don't resist--you'll just end up embarrassing both of us. Here are the details:
Christian Finnegan @ The Ft. Lauderdale Improv
December 28 -30
5700 Seminole Way
Hollywood, FL 33314
Click here for tickets and stuff
See you there, friendlies.
Regards,
me
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
TUESDAY NEWSDAY:
DAYS OF YORE
This morning, the St. Petersburg Times pulled a 2002 quote from this very blog for an article about Paul McCartney's holiday dickpunch, "Wonderful Christmastime". In honor of this little bit of media love, I've decided to re-post the entry the quote was pulled from. Reading it back, there are a couple of innacuracies (1. Bowie's blazer in the Bing Crosby special appears to be sharkskin rather than velveteen, and 2. Sir Paul is singing "sim-plee", not "seeeem t'be"), but in general I think it all still holds up. One thing, though: I'm kind of embarrassed for having said that "Do They Know it's Christmas?" has lyrical heft. As my friend Andres rightly pointed out, maybe these poor Africans don't know it's Christmas because...well, they live in fucking Africa, you condescending Imperialist bastards.
Still, enjoy:
TOWER OF HUBRIS RATES CHRISTMAS CAROLS OF THE MODERN ERA
* "Do They Know it's Christmas" (Band Aid) -- Sure, you can name all of the soloists in "We Are the World", but can you do the same for "Do They Know it's Christmas"? In case you aspire to my level of utter dorkiness, it goes: Paul Young / Boy George / George Michael / Simon LeBon / Simon LeBon and Sting / Sting and Bono / Bono / everyone / Paul Young again / everyone. Why a pathetic 80s also-ran like Paul Young got two solos, we'll never know. I will say this, though--Paul Young wins the award for "Most Inappropriate Use of a Sitar" hands-down for that song "Every Time You Go Away". As far as the Band Aid song goes, I actually kind of love it. It's actually got some musical and lyrical heft to it, unlike that USA for Africa horseshit. GRADE: B+
* "Little Drummer Boy" (Bing Crosby and David Bowie) -- This song was, of course, recorded as part of a famous '70s Bing Crosby Christmas special and I defy any of you to watch the little opening "scene" acted out between Bowie and Bing and tell me it's not the first three minutes of a gay porno. "Percival lets me use his piano...may I come in?" Percival?! Then, Bing awkwardly sidles up to the baby grand and makes "small talk" as Bowie teases him with his Aladdin Sane-era shock of red hair blue velveteen blazer, while nonchalantly thumbing through some sheet music. The sexual tension is almost palpable. And then...song. Ladies and gentlemen, the gayest moment ever on television (that didn't involve ice skates). Bowie was in fine voice, by the way. GRADE: B
* "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" (Elmo 'n Patsy) -- The very sound of Down Syndrome. Even sadder: I absolutely loved it when it came out. I would sit patiently by the radio, listening to Dr. Demento (as was my Sunday night ritual), anxiously awaiting the "Funny Five" countdown. "Coming in at #5: "Yoda" by Weird Al Yankovic, #4: "Fish Heads" by Barnes and Barnes, #3: "They're Coming to Take Me Away, Ha-Haaa!" by Napoleon XIV, #2: "Dead Puppies" by Ogden Edsl", and the #1 song of the week, dementoids and dementites, is Elmo 'n Patsy!!! Hoo-raaaaay!" I think I stopped listening to Dr. Demento the day I touched an actual boobie. Thanks, Nicole Guttenberg! GRADE: D
* "Fairytale of New York" (The Pogues) and "2000 Miles" (Pretenders) -- I shan't joke about either of these songs. GRADE: A
* "Christmas in Hollis" (Run-DMC) -- I think of Run-DMC a lot around this time of year, every time I get together with my friends and "bust Christmas carols". I did so love this song when it came out, wlthough I had no idea where "Hollis, Queens" was, nor what "collared greens" were, nor "cold hundreds of G's". Looking back, I think you can pinpoint "Christmas in Hollis" as the precise moment when Run-DMC stopped being taken seriously by black people. I think it may have has something to do with the "mischievous elf" in the video. It's probably difficult to come off as "hard" once you've appeared on film with a dude in tights and pointy shoes. I still get psyched when it comes on the radio or MTV, only to disappointedly turn the station two minutes in, once my "Irony Meter" starts dipping into the red. GRADE: B-
* "Wonderful Christmastime" (Paul McCartney) -- Sweet Christ, if this is the worst song ever recorded, I'm not sure what is. Recorded in the early days of synthesizer technology, this little yuletide ditty (or don't-y) now reminds one not of the Beatles' majesty, but of a rejected theme song for some cooking show on Queens public access television. Every time I hear that "seeeem t'be haaa-ving...", a little piece of me dies. I will always love Sir Paul, but I fully expect that "Wonderful Christmastime" is what's piped through Hell's stereo system while Satan pierces your genitals with burning rods. GRADE: F-
* "Backdoor Santa" (Bon Jovi) -- Insert joke here. GRADE: D
There are, of course, dozens more ("Happy Christmas (War is Over)" by John Lennon and Wham!'s "Last Christmas", to name but two), but I'm getting tired and it's not like anyone going to be checking in here today, anyway. And if you ARE, go wrap some goddamn presents, or something!
DAYS OF YORE
This morning, the St. Petersburg Times pulled a 2002 quote from this very blog for an article about Paul McCartney's holiday dickpunch, "Wonderful Christmastime". In honor of this little bit of media love, I've decided to re-post the entry the quote was pulled from. Reading it back, there are a couple of innacuracies (1. Bowie's blazer in the Bing Crosby special appears to be sharkskin rather than velveteen, and 2. Sir Paul is singing "sim-plee", not "seeeem t'be"), but in general I think it all still holds up. One thing, though: I'm kind of embarrassed for having said that "Do They Know it's Christmas?" has lyrical heft. As my friend Andres rightly pointed out, maybe these poor Africans don't know it's Christmas because...well, they live in fucking Africa, you condescending Imperialist bastards.
Still, enjoy:
TOWER OF HUBRIS RATES CHRISTMAS CAROLS OF THE MODERN ERA
* "Do They Know it's Christmas" (Band Aid) -- Sure, you can name all of the soloists in "We Are the World", but can you do the same for "Do They Know it's Christmas"? In case you aspire to my level of utter dorkiness, it goes: Paul Young / Boy George / George Michael / Simon LeBon / Simon LeBon and Sting / Sting and Bono / Bono / everyone / Paul Young again / everyone. Why a pathetic 80s also-ran like Paul Young got two solos, we'll never know. I will say this, though--Paul Young wins the award for "Most Inappropriate Use of a Sitar" hands-down for that song "Every Time You Go Away". As far as the Band Aid song goes, I actually kind of love it. It's actually got some musical and lyrical heft to it, unlike that USA for Africa horseshit. GRADE: B+
* "Little Drummer Boy" (Bing Crosby and David Bowie) -- This song was, of course, recorded as part of a famous '70s Bing Crosby Christmas special and I defy any of you to watch the little opening "scene" acted out between Bowie and Bing and tell me it's not the first three minutes of a gay porno. "Percival lets me use his piano...may I come in?" Percival?! Then, Bing awkwardly sidles up to the baby grand and makes "small talk" as Bowie teases him with his Aladdin Sane-era shock of red hair blue velveteen blazer, while nonchalantly thumbing through some sheet music. The sexual tension is almost palpable. And then...song. Ladies and gentlemen, the gayest moment ever on television (that didn't involve ice skates). Bowie was in fine voice, by the way. GRADE: B
* "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" (Elmo 'n Patsy) -- The very sound of Down Syndrome. Even sadder: I absolutely loved it when it came out. I would sit patiently by the radio, listening to Dr. Demento (as was my Sunday night ritual), anxiously awaiting the "Funny Five" countdown. "Coming in at #5: "Yoda" by Weird Al Yankovic, #4: "Fish Heads" by Barnes and Barnes, #3: "They're Coming to Take Me Away, Ha-Haaa!" by Napoleon XIV, #2: "Dead Puppies" by Ogden Edsl", and the #1 song of the week, dementoids and dementites, is Elmo 'n Patsy!!! Hoo-raaaaay!" I think I stopped listening to Dr. Demento the day I touched an actual boobie. Thanks, Nicole Guttenberg! GRADE: D
* "Fairytale of New York" (The Pogues) and "2000 Miles" (Pretenders) -- I shan't joke about either of these songs. GRADE: A
* "Christmas in Hollis" (Run-DMC) -- I think of Run-DMC a lot around this time of year, every time I get together with my friends and "bust Christmas carols". I did so love this song when it came out, wlthough I had no idea where "Hollis, Queens" was, nor what "collared greens" were, nor "cold hundreds of G's". Looking back, I think you can pinpoint "Christmas in Hollis" as the precise moment when Run-DMC stopped being taken seriously by black people. I think it may have has something to do with the "mischievous elf" in the video. It's probably difficult to come off as "hard" once you've appeared on film with a dude in tights and pointy shoes. I still get psyched when it comes on the radio or MTV, only to disappointedly turn the station two minutes in, once my "Irony Meter" starts dipping into the red. GRADE: B-
* "Wonderful Christmastime" (Paul McCartney) -- Sweet Christ, if this is the worst song ever recorded, I'm not sure what is. Recorded in the early days of synthesizer technology, this little yuletide ditty (or don't-y) now reminds one not of the Beatles' majesty, but of a rejected theme song for some cooking show on Queens public access television. Every time I hear that "seeeem t'be haaa-ving...", a little piece of me dies. I will always love Sir Paul, but I fully expect that "Wonderful Christmastime" is what's piped through Hell's stereo system while Satan pierces your genitals with burning rods. GRADE: F-
* "Backdoor Santa" (Bon Jovi) -- Insert joke here. GRADE: D
There are, of course, dozens more ("Happy Christmas (War is Over)" by John Lennon and Wham!'s "Last Christmas", to name but two), but I'm getting tired and it's not like anyone going to be checking in here today, anyway. And if you ARE, go wrap some goddamn presents, or something!
Monday, December 18, 2006
SELF-ANALYSIS MONDAY:
WHAT CHILD IS THIS?
Hey there. Long time no type.
I was in Dayton, OH this week, performing at the lovely Funnybone Comedy Club. It was a very nice club and the majority of my sets went surprisingly well (except for Sunday night's show, which was populated in part by a large group of women from a local black church, one wearing a lovely Easter hat--hardly my target audience). Anyway, the brand new club is situated in one of those outdoor cookie-cutter outdoor malls that seem to be popping up in city in America. Seriously, everyu place I travel to seems to have one of these sprawling "lifestyle centers", all of which seem to include a movie theater, The Cheesecake Factory and either a Talbots or a Chico's. Totally off-topic, Kambri once nailed the Chico's appeal, describing it to me as a place for suburban middle-aged women who think of themselves as free spirits. Seriously, take a look at this chick and tell me she consider herself to be "sassy". Gauzy blouses combined with long strings of beads are an unholy fashion alchemy. Blecch.
Speaking of holiness, the most noteworthy of this particular outdor mall was the live nativity scene set up in the courtyard in front of the club (adjacent to the parking lot, as described in the Bible). I know it's easy to take potshots at religious people, and I actually find nativity scenes kind of heartwarming. But man, I simply cannot convey how lackluster this scene was--no effort whatsoever. Four bales of hay, some traffic partitions, and a few random townsfolk andd meth addicts in costume. The costumes weren't terrible in and of themselves, but Joseph and Mary apparently made a pitstop at LensCrafters on the way to the Holy Land. How hard is it to leave your specs in the minivan? Does life in the manger really require 20/20 vision? I'm also pretty certain one of the wise men was wearing an iPod. No goats or donkeys in sight, just one mangy collie lying off to the side, licking himself. And although I absolutely cannot confirm this, I suspect the Baby Jesus was a Bratz Babyz doll. Worst of all, the birth of Christ was being recreated directly beneath Adobe Gila's, a garish margarita-and-date-rape saloon that I'm sure is part of some awful chain. So for the better part of Friday and Saturday evening, the nativity was was bathed in the muffled bass and hostile chanting of whatever the DJ was using to get the party started on "Naughty School Girl Night". At no point in the weekend did I see more than five people observing the virgin birth at any given time--mostly, people would cast a cursory glance while strolling over to Yankee Candle.
Truly a Christmas miracle! Hallelujah!
WHAT CHILD IS THIS?
Hey there. Long time no type.
I was in Dayton, OH this week, performing at the lovely Funnybone Comedy Club. It was a very nice club and the majority of my sets went surprisingly well (except for Sunday night's show, which was populated in part by a large group of women from a local black church, one wearing a lovely Easter hat--hardly my target audience). Anyway, the brand new club is situated in one of those outdoor cookie-cutter outdoor malls that seem to be popping up in city in America. Seriously, everyu place I travel to seems to have one of these sprawling "lifestyle centers", all of which seem to include a movie theater, The Cheesecake Factory and either a Talbots or a Chico's. Totally off-topic, Kambri once nailed the Chico's appeal, describing it to me as a place for suburban middle-aged women who think of themselves as free spirits. Seriously, take a look at this chick and tell me she consider herself to be "sassy". Gauzy blouses combined with long strings of beads are an unholy fashion alchemy. Blecch.
Speaking of holiness, the most noteworthy of this particular outdor mall was the live nativity scene set up in the courtyard in front of the club (adjacent to the parking lot, as described in the Bible). I know it's easy to take potshots at religious people, and I actually find nativity scenes kind of heartwarming. But man, I simply cannot convey how lackluster this scene was--no effort whatsoever. Four bales of hay, some traffic partitions, and a few random townsfolk andd meth addicts in costume. The costumes weren't terrible in and of themselves, but Joseph and Mary apparently made a pitstop at LensCrafters on the way to the Holy Land. How hard is it to leave your specs in the minivan? Does life in the manger really require 20/20 vision? I'm also pretty certain one of the wise men was wearing an iPod. No goats or donkeys in sight, just one mangy collie lying off to the side, licking himself. And although I absolutely cannot confirm this, I suspect the Baby Jesus was a Bratz Babyz doll. Worst of all, the birth of Christ was being recreated directly beneath Adobe Gila's, a garish margarita-and-date-rape saloon that I'm sure is part of some awful chain. So for the better part of Friday and Saturday evening, the nativity was was bathed in the muffled bass and hostile chanting of whatever the DJ was using to get the party started on "Naughty School Girl Night". At no point in the weekend did I see more than five people observing the virgin birth at any given time--mostly, people would cast a cursory glance while strolling over to Yankee Candle.
Truly a Christmas miracle! Hallelujah!
Thursday, December 14, 2006
WE INTERRUPT THIS BLOG TO WELCOME FANS OF THE DYING MEDIUM KNOWN AS RADIO!
(NOTE: In a few hours, I'll be appearing on the Bob & Tom show, an very popular morning radio show that airs all over this great nation of ours. The show is extremely comedian-friendly and many of my peers who've appeared on the show have said they experienced a lot of new web traffic as a result. Therefore, I thought I might as well introduce myself to any curious passers-by.)
Good day, Bob & Tom listeners. Welcome to my little e-oasis. I assume you're here because:
A) You're desperate to learn more about the wonderfully talented and charismatic person you heard on the radio. Who is he? What makes him tick? What are his hopes and dreams? And most importantly, DO BOB AND TOM REALIZE THEY'RE IN PRESENCE OF COMEDY GENIUS?
B) You're desperate to learn more about the incredibly unfunny sack of crap you heard on the radio. Who is he? Why would anyone find him remotely funny? Why is he deluding himself? And most importantly, DOES THIS DOUCHEBAG HAVE NAKED PHOTOS OF BOB AND TOM?
C) You're looking for some bland amusement to distract you from soul-crushing spiritual nutpunch that is your career.
Whatever the reason, nice to have you. Scroll down, take a look around--I guarantee you'll find something that will make you say, "Gee, he seemed like a much nicer person on the radio." Toodles!
Sincerely,
Christian Finnegan
Your Private Dancer
(NOTE: In a few hours, I'll be appearing on the Bob & Tom show, an very popular morning radio show that airs all over this great nation of ours. The show is extremely comedian-friendly and many of my peers who've appeared on the show have said they experienced a lot of new web traffic as a result. Therefore, I thought I might as well introduce myself to any curious passers-by.)
Good day, Bob & Tom listeners. Welcome to my little e-oasis. I assume you're here because:
A) You're desperate to learn more about the wonderfully talented and charismatic person you heard on the radio. Who is he? What makes him tick? What are his hopes and dreams? And most importantly, DO BOB AND TOM REALIZE THEY'RE IN PRESENCE OF COMEDY GENIUS?
B) You're desperate to learn more about the incredibly unfunny sack of crap you heard on the radio. Who is he? Why would anyone find him remotely funny? Why is he deluding himself? And most importantly, DOES THIS DOUCHEBAG HAVE NAKED PHOTOS OF BOB AND TOM?
C) You're looking for some bland amusement to distract you from soul-crushing spiritual nutpunch that is your career.
Whatever the reason, nice to have you. Scroll down, take a look around--I guarantee you'll find something that will make you say, "Gee, he seemed like a much nicer person on the radio." Toodles!
Sincerely,
Christian Finnegan
Your Private Dancer
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
TUESDAY NEWSDAY:
HE'S GOT THE LOOKS THAT THRILL!
As you may have heard, interim U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations John Bolton will be stepping down before the new congress convenes in January. Now I don't pretend to have any clue what goes into good ambassador-ing. My evaluation of John Bolton as both a civil servant and a human being is pretty bare-bones: All the people who support him seem to be douchebags--therefore, I must assume that John Bolton is also a douchebag and, hence, a bad ambassador. I will say this for the man, though: he is, without a doubt, the goofiest looking human being to ever hold high office. Don't believe me? Check this dude out:
Take a look at that guy and tell he shouldn't be living inside a tree. I mean, there are offices higher than Ambassador to the U.N. and there are probably people goofier looking than John Bolton. But to be that goofy and that powerful? Well, you really have to tip your hat. This dude is an inspiration--no longer will aesthetically challenged children be forced to say, "Gee, I'd really love to represent my country at the United Nations one day...but man, I'm just fucking goofy looking!"
I'm hoping that the president stays the course on this one and nominates someone equally as visually groundbreaking to replace Ambasador Bolton. To that end, I've compiled my only little shortlist. Feel free to forward these photos along to yoour congressperson, along with a few thousand signatures:
HE'S GOT THE LOOKS THAT THRILL!
As you may have heard, interim U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations John Bolton will be stepping down before the new congress convenes in January. Now I don't pretend to have any clue what goes into good ambassador-ing. My evaluation of John Bolton as both a civil servant and a human being is pretty bare-bones: All the people who support him seem to be douchebags--therefore, I must assume that John Bolton is also a douchebag and, hence, a bad ambassador. I will say this for the man, though: he is, without a doubt, the goofiest looking human being to ever hold high office. Don't believe me? Check this dude out:
Take a look at that guy and tell he shouldn't be living inside a tree. I mean, there are offices higher than Ambassador to the U.N. and there are probably people goofier looking than John Bolton. But to be that goofy and that powerful? Well, you really have to tip your hat. This dude is an inspiration--no longer will aesthetically challenged children be forced to say, "Gee, I'd really love to represent my country at the United Nations one day...but man, I'm just fucking goofy looking!"
I'm hoping that the president stays the course on this one and nominates someone equally as visually groundbreaking to replace Ambasador Bolton. To that end, I've compiled my only little shortlist. Feel free to forward these photos along to yoour congressperson, along with a few thousand signatures:
Monday, December 04, 2006
SELF-ANALYSIS MONDAY:
LET'S GET FISCAL
Question for you mature adults out there: When you receive your bank statements every month, what do you do with them? Do you go through them, match them against your receipts and checkbook, make sure no one is ripping you off? That seems like the kind of thing an adult would do. I'm hoping at least a couple of you do this, because if not, my financial strategy is truly fucked.
You see, when I receive statements of any kind (bank, credit card, cell phone, what have you), I toss them in the garbage unopened. You know why I don't bother to read my statements? Because you do. Nothing personal, there--I'm not implying that your fiscal responsibility is in some way uncool. Although, let's be honest: do you think The Fonz would spend a lot of time going through his Discover Card statement? But that's beside the point. What I'm saying is, Bank of America doesn't know me. They don't anything about me. They have no idea that I possess the organizational skills of a heroin-addicted toddler. For all Bank of America knows, I'm vigiliant with my finances, the kind of person who goes through every bill with a fine-tooth comb, looking for indescretions and overcharges. I could be the kind of person who spends an hour on hold with Account Services to clear up an errant late fee, not because I really need the $15, but merely on principle. For all Bank of America knows, I could be...you. And they're not going to dare try to fuck with you, are they? So thanks, nerds--your fiscal responsibility has freed me up to be the man I am today.
Why do I have the feeling that one day I'll re-read this last paragraph and start weeping?
I feel like I'm in the midst of a serious 'Manchild' phase of my life. My body is beginning to show undeniable signs of age, and yet I seem to have acquired none of the maturity that usually goes along with getting older. For example, I have a "bad knee". I'm not saying that I injured my knee, that if I take it easy for a week or two it will be back in tip-top shape. No, I'm talking about the deep ache in my left knee that has flared up over the past year or so whenever I've tried to jog for sustained periods/distances. This is not something that I see getting better--it's just a fact of life that I have to live with now that I'm solidly in my Thirties. Hell, I remember when my Dad first acquired a "bad knee" right around the same age I am now. Of course, when my Dad was 33, he owned a home, two cars and a business that employed about twenty people (this in addition to taking care of a wife and two children). This seems like that way it's meant to be: as your body starts to deteriorate, your "adult" capabilities begin to reveal themselves. Well, it's not really working out like that for me. It doesn't seem right that I suffer semi-regular back spasms and yet know absolutely nothing about the stock market. I knew nothing about the stock market ten years ago, but back then it was a positive. I was a freewheeling muthafucka in my Twenties--don't be wasting my time with all this NASDAQ shit! But now that I'm sporting a growing collection of grey hairs, I should probably have some vague sense of what the word "annuities" means. The guy who does my taxes tried explaining it to me, but he may as well be speaking Klingon.
I'll admit, part of me doesn't want to learn about investing, for fear of becoming one of those people. If I start having conversations about "the Market", how long will it be before I'm wearing a cell-phone holster and tucking my polo shirts into my khakis? But I am, ever so slightly, trying to dip my toe into the waters of fiscal adulthood. I even have a "Money Market Account" now, although it sits empty because I still have no idea what the hell it is. I hope to get a handle on it before I start noticing grey pubes, but it's going to be a horse race.
LET'S GET FISCAL
Question for you mature adults out there: When you receive your bank statements every month, what do you do with them? Do you go through them, match them against your receipts and checkbook, make sure no one is ripping you off? That seems like the kind of thing an adult would do. I'm hoping at least a couple of you do this, because if not, my financial strategy is truly fucked.
You see, when I receive statements of any kind (bank, credit card, cell phone, what have you), I toss them in the garbage unopened. You know why I don't bother to read my statements? Because you do. Nothing personal, there--I'm not implying that your fiscal responsibility is in some way uncool. Although, let's be honest: do you think The Fonz would spend a lot of time going through his Discover Card statement? But that's beside the point. What I'm saying is, Bank of America doesn't know me. They don't anything about me. They have no idea that I possess the organizational skills of a heroin-addicted toddler. For all Bank of America knows, I'm vigiliant with my finances, the kind of person who goes through every bill with a fine-tooth comb, looking for indescretions and overcharges. I could be the kind of person who spends an hour on hold with Account Services to clear up an errant late fee, not because I really need the $15, but merely on principle. For all Bank of America knows, I could be...you. And they're not going to dare try to fuck with you, are they? So thanks, nerds--your fiscal responsibility has freed me up to be the man I am today.
Why do I have the feeling that one day I'll re-read this last paragraph and start weeping?
I feel like I'm in the midst of a serious 'Manchild' phase of my life. My body is beginning to show undeniable signs of age, and yet I seem to have acquired none of the maturity that usually goes along with getting older. For example, I have a "bad knee". I'm not saying that I injured my knee, that if I take it easy for a week or two it will be back in tip-top shape. No, I'm talking about the deep ache in my left knee that has flared up over the past year or so whenever I've tried to jog for sustained periods/distances. This is not something that I see getting better--it's just a fact of life that I have to live with now that I'm solidly in my Thirties. Hell, I remember when my Dad first acquired a "bad knee" right around the same age I am now. Of course, when my Dad was 33, he owned a home, two cars and a business that employed about twenty people (this in addition to taking care of a wife and two children). This seems like that way it's meant to be: as your body starts to deteriorate, your "adult" capabilities begin to reveal themselves. Well, it's not really working out like that for me. It doesn't seem right that I suffer semi-regular back spasms and yet know absolutely nothing about the stock market. I knew nothing about the stock market ten years ago, but back then it was a positive. I was a freewheeling muthafucka in my Twenties--don't be wasting my time with all this NASDAQ shit! But now that I'm sporting a growing collection of grey hairs, I should probably have some vague sense of what the word "annuities" means. The guy who does my taxes tried explaining it to me, but he may as well be speaking Klingon.
I'll admit, part of me doesn't want to learn about investing, for fear of becoming one of those people. If I start having conversations about "the Market", how long will it be before I'm wearing a cell-phone holster and tucking my polo shirts into my khakis? But I am, ever so slightly, trying to dip my toe into the waters of fiscal adulthood. I even have a "Money Market Account" now, although it sits empty because I still have no idea what the hell it is. I hope to get a handle on it before I start noticing grey pubes, but it's going to be a horse race.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
THANKS A BUNCH, KRAMER...
WARNING: There is nothing funny contained in today's entry. Seriously. Being that it's "Tuesday Newsday" and I am by all accounts a stand up comedian, I can't really avoid addressing this Michael Richards craziness, can I? Hell, how often is stand up comedy front page news--especially a story that doesn't involve the words "Dane" and/or "Cook"? So I will try to adress it here, even though the whole story just makes me kind of depressed and angry. This story will have residual effects on the stand up community as a whole, from the barrage of anti stand-up editorials that are already being written to my suspician that an increasing number of people are going to start filming comedy club shows on their cell phones, hoping to catch something "incriminating". It's just bad for comedians everywhere, which makes it really difficult to feel sorry for this fuckhead.
Obviously, the tirade was insane. But having been taken to task for things I've said (or have been perceived to say) on stage a few times over the past few years, I was looking for a reason, ANY reason to exonerate the dude in my mind. Well, I tried--really, I did. I'm willing to stand up (no pun intended) for any comic, saying any sort of offensive shit, provided that there is a joke involved. It doesn't have to be a great joke--hell, it can just be a vague and poorly executed premise. But there is absolutely nothing resembling a joke in Richards' screed. Not even the germ of a joke. Not even a whisper. Oh sure, he babbled something about "words, words, all these words", obviously trying to point out our cultural taboos. Setting aside ethics for a moment, that's a pathetic cop out--invoking the word "nigger" for shock value is considered indisputably hack among real stand up comics, no matter what silly context you try to put it in. But for the sake of argument, I'll give Richards this one. that still does nothing to address lines like, "fifty years ago you'd be upside down with a fork up your ass" or "that's what happens when you interrupt the white man". That's just nonsense, pure and simple.
You have to understand, I'm still not terribly comfortable taking this position. As I said up top, my instinct is always to side with a comic over any "offended party". There is so little respect for stand-up in the culture at large, and pundits and journalists are ALWAYS looking for subtle (or not-so-subtle) ways to diminish what comics try to do. By talking shit about Michael Richards, am I not taking sides against my peers? But then a very simple truth dawned on me:
Michael Richards is not a stand up comedian. So fuck him.
Michael Richards is one of a growing number of on-the-wane celebrities who have decided to attach themselves like barnacles to the world of stand-up (think Screech). There is always an air of palpable condescension that comes from people like this. They think it's easy. Or if not "easy", than certainly nothing more than a means to an end. Stand up is a way to stay visible until an on-camera gig comes along. Plus, it gives them some feeling of "cred". These are not people who feel compelled to spend five hours at a shitty Tuesday night open mic, waiting to perform for a handful of disinterested drunks.
Simply put, someone like Michael Richards has never paid his dues and obviosuly doesn't understand that stand can be...well, pretty fucking intricate. There are things about comedy that you can't learn by waltzing into a club on Saturday night and babbling (and trust me, there are no fucking jokes in this dude's set--I've seen it) to a packed room full of people who adore you because you were on the tee-vee. All of those open mics and late night hell gigs teach you things, such as: Don't try to be "edgy" without knowing what the comedic payoff is supposed to be. To paraphrase "Glengarry Glen Ross, "If you don't know the shot, keep your fucking mouth shut." Watching Richards scream "nigger" over and over again in some weak-assed attempt to be Lenny Bruce (overrated, by the way) was liking watching a foreigner read the Pledge of Alleigance phonetically.
Look, I know Richards was a sketch comedian for a very long time before Seinfeld. But sketch is not stand up--neither is improv. Only in stand-up are you forced to take full ownership of every word that comes out of your mouth. There are no characters to hide behind, no scenarios to "yes-and". There is only you, your opinion and whatever ability you have to express that opinion in a humorous fashion.
Michael Richards doesn't know that because he's not a stand up comedian. He's an out of work actor trying to be edgy and dangerous until his next "wacky neighbor" role comes along. So fuck him.
Monday, November 20, 2006
SELF-ANALYSIS MONDAY:
EXACTLY HOW BIG OF A FUCKING ASSHOLE AM I?
So Saturday night I was driving a rental car to a show in Pennsylvania. I'm not a huge fan of driving--in fact, I just re-acquired my license fifteen months ago, after letting it expire when I moved to NYC at age eighteen. This particular drive was annoying because I'd rented a portable GPS system that had, due to my idiocy, taken me forty minutes out of my way. I also hadn't eaten, so I was a bit cranky. Somewhere along the way I realized I'd forgotten to pack my American Crew Forming Cream (the official hair product of aging wannabes), so I got off the highway and turned into an Eckerd's. As I started to pull into a parking spot, I noticed a roly poly child of around eleven sitting in a station wagon two spots over. He was sitting in the backseat with the door open, playing with some large brightly colored toy--some sort of brightly colored lazer gun, or something. And I suppose "playing with" isn't accurate. He was just sort of sitting there, staring at it in his hands as if it were a bunny he'd accidentally strangled to death. Mom was obviously inside buying personal hygeine products and had left Junior outside to amuse himself. He kind of reminded me of the kid from Bad Santa, only wearing glasses and not so visibly retarded.
Anyway, I pulled a bit too far into the parking spot and the front end of my Ford Taurus scraped the cement parking barrier, making a rather hideous noise. Naturally, I then backed up a bit, causing another loud screech. I got out of the car and cheked the front of the car--I bought the insurance for the car, but I was worried that Dollar Rental would still try to charge me. Relatively comfortable with the state of the Ford Taurus, I began to walk toward the front door. As I passed the Bad Santa kid, I heard home say something, almost inaudibly: "Nice driving."
Um...did I just fucking hear that? Did this little fuckknob just talk shit to me? After the day I've had? No. Fucking. Way.
"Excuse me?" I said, as I spun around to face the kid.
Pause.
"Nice hat," he said, peering up from his lazer gun. (I was, for the record, wearing a rather nondescript hat.)
"Oh really? Nice hat? That's what you just said?"
"Yeah."
"Because I could have sworn I heard you say 'nice driving'. You didn't say 'nice driving'?
"no."
"So you're telling me that I heard you wrong, that what you really said was 'nice hat'? That's what you're trying to convince me of? That's the story you're going with?"
Pause. Then quietly, "I said 'nice hat'."
The roly poly child sheepishly pulled his legs into the car, shut the door and slumped down in the backseat. I turned around and strode confidently into Eckerd's, feeling as if I'd stood up in the face of Injustice. By the time I returned to the Ford Taurus, the kid's mother had abviously finished her shopping and the station wagon was gone. I was half disappointed, as I wanted to see kid squirm a little bit more. And the other half of me was relieved, as I was a little afraid that the kid was going to tell on me and that I'd get yelled at by his mother.
Question: Exactly how big of a fucking asshole am I?
EXACTLY HOW BIG OF A FUCKING ASSHOLE AM I?
So Saturday night I was driving a rental car to a show in Pennsylvania. I'm not a huge fan of driving--in fact, I just re-acquired my license fifteen months ago, after letting it expire when I moved to NYC at age eighteen. This particular drive was annoying because I'd rented a portable GPS system that had, due to my idiocy, taken me forty minutes out of my way. I also hadn't eaten, so I was a bit cranky. Somewhere along the way I realized I'd forgotten to pack my American Crew Forming Cream (the official hair product of aging wannabes), so I got off the highway and turned into an Eckerd's. As I started to pull into a parking spot, I noticed a roly poly child of around eleven sitting in a station wagon two spots over. He was sitting in the backseat with the door open, playing with some large brightly colored toy--some sort of brightly colored lazer gun, or something. And I suppose "playing with" isn't accurate. He was just sort of sitting there, staring at it in his hands as if it were a bunny he'd accidentally strangled to death. Mom was obviously inside buying personal hygeine products and had left Junior outside to amuse himself. He kind of reminded me of the kid from Bad Santa, only wearing glasses and not so visibly retarded.
Anyway, I pulled a bit too far into the parking spot and the front end of my Ford Taurus scraped the cement parking barrier, making a rather hideous noise. Naturally, I then backed up a bit, causing another loud screech. I got out of the car and cheked the front of the car--I bought the insurance for the car, but I was worried that Dollar Rental would still try to charge me. Relatively comfortable with the state of the Ford Taurus, I began to walk toward the front door. As I passed the Bad Santa kid, I heard home say something, almost inaudibly: "Nice driving."
Um...did I just fucking hear that? Did this little fuckknob just talk shit to me? After the day I've had? No. Fucking. Way.
"Excuse me?" I said, as I spun around to face the kid.
Pause.
"Nice hat," he said, peering up from his lazer gun. (I was, for the record, wearing a rather nondescript hat.)
"Oh really? Nice hat? That's what you just said?"
"Yeah."
"Because I could have sworn I heard you say 'nice driving'. You didn't say 'nice driving'?
"no."
"So you're telling me that I heard you wrong, that what you really said was 'nice hat'? That's what you're trying to convince me of? That's the story you're going with?"
Pause. Then quietly, "I said 'nice hat'."
The roly poly child sheepishly pulled his legs into the car, shut the door and slumped down in the backseat. I turned around and strode confidently into Eckerd's, feeling as if I'd stood up in the face of Injustice. By the time I returned to the Ford Taurus, the kid's mother had abviously finished her shopping and the station wagon was gone. I was half disappointed, as I wanted to see kid squirm a little bit more. And the other half of me was relieved, as I was a little afraid that the kid was going to tell on me and that I'd get yelled at by his mother.
Question: Exactly how big of a fucking asshole am I?
Monday, November 13, 2006
SELF-ANALYSIS MONDAY:
MUSIC APPRECIATION DAY
I'm not feeling particularly funny or self-analytical today, so I thought I might as well just recommend some tunes I've been digging lately. Not all of these are actually "new", but I've come to discover (or re-discover) each of these over the past month or two and they're all genuinely wondrous. You should go on iTunes (or whatever) and buy them.
* "Sunday Noises" by Califone
* "New York Groove" by Ace Frehley
* "Destination Diamonds" by Diamond Nights
* "Phoenix" by Cibelle
* "Skip to the End" by The Futureheads
* "If You Don't Know Me By Now" by Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes
* "The Only Night" by Ian Love
* "Drop it Like it's Hot" by Minus the Bear (no, it's not a Snoop Dog cover)
* "Even Tho" by Joseph Arthur
* "Don't Save Us From the Flames" by M83
* "Province" by TV on the Radio
* "Piece of Clay" by Marvin Gaye
* "I Was Born (A Unicorn)" by The Unicorns
* "Why Don't We Fall in Love" by Amerie
* "Fly High Michelle" by Enuff Z'nuff (fuck you, it's a great song)
If you can't find at least one song on this list you dig, you're fucking Al Qaeda.
MUSIC APPRECIATION DAY
I'm not feeling particularly funny or self-analytical today, so I thought I might as well just recommend some tunes I've been digging lately. Not all of these are actually "new", but I've come to discover (or re-discover) each of these over the past month or two and they're all genuinely wondrous. You should go on iTunes (or whatever) and buy them.
* "Sunday Noises" by Califone
* "New York Groove" by Ace Frehley
* "Destination Diamonds" by Diamond Nights
* "Phoenix" by Cibelle
* "Skip to the End" by The Futureheads
* "If You Don't Know Me By Now" by Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes
* "The Only Night" by Ian Love
* "Drop it Like it's Hot" by Minus the Bear (no, it's not a Snoop Dog cover)
* "Even Tho" by Joseph Arthur
* "Don't Save Us From the Flames" by M83
* "Province" by TV on the Radio
* "Piece of Clay" by Marvin Gaye
* "I Was Born (A Unicorn)" by The Unicorns
* "Why Don't We Fall in Love" by Amerie
* "Fly High Michelle" by Enuff Z'nuff (fuck you, it's a great song)
If you can't find at least one song on this list you dig, you're fucking Al Qaeda.
Friday, November 10, 2006
CASUAL FRIDAY:
PREPARE TO BE SPEECHLESS
Listen, I know this clip has already made the rounds, but I include it here in the hopes that there are a few of you out there who are still uninitiated. There is so much to love here, so much to loathe, so much to make you squirm uncomfortably in your chair. Without further ado, I give you "One Bank":
one bank on Vimeo
PREPARE TO BE SPEECHLESS
Listen, I know this clip has already made the rounds, but I include it here in the hopes that there are a few of you out there who are still uninitiated. There is so much to love here, so much to loathe, so much to make you squirm uncomfortably in your chair. Without further ado, I give you "One Bank":
one bank on Vimeo
Thursday, November 09, 2006
WEDNESDAY IS LIST DAY/RANDOM MUSING THURSDAY HYBRID:
THE POLITICS OF TOMORROW!
So the votes in Virgina are in, the Democrats have officially taken the Senate and depending on your philosophical leanings, you're either elated or moritifed (count me among the elated). I did, however, notice there seem to be more and more fringe political parties on the ballot every election year. In New York, we had the Libertarians, the Green Party, The Independence Party, Working Families, Conservatives, Socialist Workers and the "Rent is Too High" Party (I like a party that spells it out for me!). In my opinion, the Two Party System is the single worst aspect of our American Democracy--how can a government function well if half of its leaders deperately want (nay, NEED) the other half to fail? So I think the rise in Third Party candidates can only be a good thing. And according to my research, the ballot is only going to get more crowded next time around. Here are a bunch of fringe politcal parties looking to make their mark in 2008:
THE FREETOPIANS
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!"
THE ARE-WE-RACIST? PARTY
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 rap their lessons plans, a "Tortillas-for-Guns" program in crimeridden Latino neighborhoods, and The Schlomo 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! Chad Michael Murray, I love you! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!"
THE FINGERFUCK PARTY
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."
THE PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE GIRLFRIEND PARTY
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)"
THE PEPSI GENERATION
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!
THE PARTY PARTY
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!"
THE POLITICS OF TOMORROW!
So the votes in Virgina are in, the Democrats have officially taken the Senate and depending on your philosophical leanings, you're either elated or moritifed (count me among the elated). I did, however, notice there seem to be more and more fringe political parties on the ballot every election year. In New York, we had the Libertarians, the Green Party, The Independence Party, Working Families, Conservatives, Socialist Workers and the "Rent is Too High" Party (I like a party that spells it out for me!). In my opinion, the Two Party System is the single worst aspect of our American Democracy--how can a government function well if half of its leaders deperately want (nay, NEED) the other half to fail? So I think the rise in Third Party candidates can only be a good thing. And according to my research, the ballot is only going to get more crowded next time around. Here are a bunch of fringe politcal parties looking to make their mark in 2008:
THE FREETOPIANS
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!"
THE ARE-WE-RACIST? PARTY
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 rap their lessons plans, a "Tortillas-for-Guns" program in crimeridden Latino neighborhoods, and The Schlomo 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! Chad Michael Murray, I love you! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!"
THE FINGERFUCK PARTY
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."
THE PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE GIRLFRIEND PARTY
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)"
THE PEPSI GENERATION
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!
THE PARTY PARTY
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!"
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
TUESDAY NEWSDAY:
AN INTERVIEW WITH A FASCINATING HUMAN BEING
The very wonderful comedy website Dead Frog just posted an extensive (dare I say, exhaustive) interview with a truly legendary American. That's right: me. Some of what I said makes me cringe a little bit. Some of it I'm relatively proud of. The main thing this interview has taught me is that i really need to learn how to speak in full and complete sentences--especially when talking to someone on the phone.
Anyway, if you're interested in the philosphy of stand up comedy (to the extent there is one), I think it's worth reading. You can read the whole thing here.
P.S. By the way, Kambri has been demanding I mention that, on the very same day I "worked" with Kevin Federline, she chatted with Wilmer Valderama. this is significant because K-Fed and Wilmer are probably my two biggest go-to punchlines on "Best Week Ever". Wilmer more than Federline, honestly (after all, anyone can make a K-Fed joke). Still, that is a pretty heavy-duty aligning of the douchebaggy planets. You can read about Kambri's Valderhomage here. I'm relieved that, by all indications, Kambri was able to resist havng sex with him.
AN INTERVIEW WITH A FASCINATING HUMAN BEING
The very wonderful comedy website Dead Frog just posted an extensive (dare I say, exhaustive) interview with a truly legendary American. That's right: me. Some of what I said makes me cringe a little bit. Some of it I'm relatively proud of. The main thing this interview has taught me is that i really need to learn how to speak in full and complete sentences--especially when talking to someone on the phone.
Anyway, if you're interested in the philosphy of stand up comedy (to the extent there is one), I think it's worth reading. You can read the whole thing here.
P.S. By the way, Kambri has been demanding I mention that, on the very same day I "worked" with Kevin Federline, she chatted with Wilmer Valderama. this is significant because K-Fed and Wilmer are probably my two biggest go-to punchlines on "Best Week Ever". Wilmer more than Federline, honestly (after all, anyone can make a K-Fed joke). Still, that is a pretty heavy-duty aligning of the douchebaggy planets. You can read about Kambri's Valderhomage here. I'm relieved that, by all indications, Kambri was able to resist havng sex with him.
Monday, November 06, 2006
SELF-ANALYSIS MONDAY:
SLIGHT RETURN
So, if you didn't notice, I took a little time away from the Tower of Hubris last week. What can I say--I was ravaged by exhaustion and had other things to do that were...how shall I say it...more important than the e-masturbatory folly that is this blog. But just so you don't feel like you missed out on anything, here's a quick update on the things I'm wracking my brain with these days:
* I spent the majority of the past week readying a sitcom idea that I am pitching to a television executive this afternoon (at 3pm EST, if you're the kind of person who believes in putting out "good vibes" and shit). I'm working with a very talented writer dude who's really done the lion's share of the work--my main role has been to meet him for lunch and babble nonsensically about my worldview. My other role has been to add little nuggets of wisdom, such as "I don't want my character to be named Walter" and "There aren't really any Cubans in Astoria, Queens". Anyway, it's been a pretty interesting process and I'm proud to finally count myself among the 4,000,000 douchebags out there hawking a situation comedy.
* On Saturday evening, I nearly got into a fistfight. And when I say "fistfight", I mean "had my ass handed to me by a teenage Latino dude". Here's an abbreviated rundown of how it all went down, with the helps of semi-colons: Thug Life was sitting on the subway stairs; I needed to get by and as I did I bumped into him slightly; he said some shit to me; I said some shit back; he got into my "grill"; I didn't back down (too much); Thug Life ceremoniously removed his doo-rag (it was ON!); I walked down the platform; he followed me and said some more shit; I said some more shit back, trying my best to refrain from calling him MC Hammer (he had stupid little lines cut into his eyebrows); he promised to follow me wherever I went; I told him to go ahead, while privately praying he wouldn't); he told me as we got above ground he was going to rob and beat me; I gave him a very nervous "whatever" look; Thug Life started stalking the platform yelling "WHITE BOY! WHIIIIIIIIITE BOY!"; I removed my license and credit cards from my wallet (just in case!); we got on the train, he starting badgering some random and bewildered black woman, shouting about how, back in the day, white boys never would have gotten away with talking shit (ah, the salad days!); we got off the train; I walked towards one staircase; he inexplicably lost track of me (I wasn't running, I promise!) and walked towards the other staircase; I climbed the stairs while listening to Thug Life yell "WHITE BOY! WHERE YOU AT?!"; I walked at a normal pace (maybe I was hurrying a little...okay, I was speed-walking, basically) across 14th street to my gig, all the while half-waiting for a drunken fist to come careening down onto the back of my head; I got to the club and spent the next twenty minutes drinking and waiting for my hands to stop shaking with rage (okay, fear). Then I went up and tried to make people laugh--it went pretty well except for the moment where I started yelling at some Jersey girl for talking during my set. I'm man enough to admit that maybe I was taking shit out on her just a teensy-weensy bit. Such is life.
* Oh, and did I mention I met Kevin Federline on Thursday? Well, I did. I did something with him for Best Week Ever. While spectacularly unimpressive as a public figure (even in person, K-Fed has the starpower of a TGI Fridays night manager), he said or did nothing that was glaringly douche-y. I was polite, but not overly friendly. I already felt like a major hypocrite standing there next to him after all the shit I;'ve talked about him on the show. Best Week Ever, like politics, creates strange bedfellows. Honestly, I was just relieved he didn't punch me in the face. Either he's fully embraced his Semi-Celebrity Pinata status, or Best Week Ever isn't on his radar. I will say this, though--that dude positively reeks of cigarettes. Shit is nasty, yo.
* Lastly, just so I don't miss yet another opportunity to flog Two For Flinching, here's a quick little promo I did for BWE (as we insiders/jackwads call it):
SLIGHT RETURN
So, if you didn't notice, I took a little time away from the Tower of Hubris last week. What can I say--I was ravaged by exhaustion and had other things to do that were...how shall I say it...more important than the e-masturbatory folly that is this blog. But just so you don't feel like you missed out on anything, here's a quick update on the things I'm wracking my brain with these days:
* I spent the majority of the past week readying a sitcom idea that I am pitching to a television executive this afternoon (at 3pm EST, if you're the kind of person who believes in putting out "good vibes" and shit). I'm working with a very talented writer dude who's really done the lion's share of the work--my main role has been to meet him for lunch and babble nonsensically about my worldview. My other role has been to add little nuggets of wisdom, such as "I don't want my character to be named Walter" and "There aren't really any Cubans in Astoria, Queens". Anyway, it's been a pretty interesting process and I'm proud to finally count myself among the 4,000,000 douchebags out there hawking a situation comedy.
* On Saturday evening, I nearly got into a fistfight. And when I say "fistfight", I mean "had my ass handed to me by a teenage Latino dude". Here's an abbreviated rundown of how it all went down, with the helps of semi-colons: Thug Life was sitting on the subway stairs; I needed to get by and as I did I bumped into him slightly; he said some shit to me; I said some shit back; he got into my "grill"; I didn't back down (too much); Thug Life ceremoniously removed his doo-rag (it was ON!); I walked down the platform; he followed me and said some more shit; I said some more shit back, trying my best to refrain from calling him MC Hammer (he had stupid little lines cut into his eyebrows); he promised to follow me wherever I went; I told him to go ahead, while privately praying he wouldn't); he told me as we got above ground he was going to rob and beat me; I gave him a very nervous "whatever" look; Thug Life started stalking the platform yelling "WHITE BOY! WHIIIIIIIIITE BOY!"; I removed my license and credit cards from my wallet (just in case!); we got on the train, he starting badgering some random and bewildered black woman, shouting about how, back in the day, white boys never would have gotten away with talking shit (ah, the salad days!); we got off the train; I walked towards one staircase; he inexplicably lost track of me (I wasn't running, I promise!) and walked towards the other staircase; I climbed the stairs while listening to Thug Life yell "WHITE BOY! WHERE YOU AT?!"; I walked at a normal pace (maybe I was hurrying a little...okay, I was speed-walking, basically) across 14th street to my gig, all the while half-waiting for a drunken fist to come careening down onto the back of my head; I got to the club and spent the next twenty minutes drinking and waiting for my hands to stop shaking with rage (okay, fear). Then I went up and tried to make people laugh--it went pretty well except for the moment where I started yelling at some Jersey girl for talking during my set. I'm man enough to admit that maybe I was taking shit out on her just a teensy-weensy bit. Such is life.
* Oh, and did I mention I met Kevin Federline on Thursday? Well, I did. I did something with him for Best Week Ever. While spectacularly unimpressive as a public figure (even in person, K-Fed has the starpower of a TGI Fridays night manager), he said or did nothing that was glaringly douche-y. I was polite, but not overly friendly. I already felt like a major hypocrite standing there next to him after all the shit I;'ve talked about him on the show. Best Week Ever, like politics, creates strange bedfellows. Honestly, I was just relieved he didn't punch me in the face. Either he's fully embraced his Semi-Celebrity Pinata status, or Best Week Ever isn't on his radar. I will say this, though--that dude positively reeks of cigarettes. Shit is nasty, yo.
* Lastly, just so I don't miss yet another opportunity to flog Two For Flinching, here's a quick little promo I did for BWE (as we insiders/jackwads call it):
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)