JEALOUS MUCH?

I ended up chatting with some Clevelanders (Clevelandites?) after last night's show, and they all seemed fixated on the fact that I live in New York City. There was a slight sense of awe in their voices, but not in an admiring way. It was more a "Why the hell would anyone want to live there" kind of thing. If there's one thing that travelling has taught me, it's that people in other parts of the country have serious love/hate feelings about New York, and it tends to be more Hate then Love.

What I realized is, the country hates New York City for the same reason that the rest of the world hates this country--both New York and America have no problem letting people know that they're the best. You see, every town in this country has civic pride. I'm sure the mayor of Cleveland, for example, doesn't hesitate to publicly sing the praises of his city. But I'm sure he's aware, on some level, that Cleveland is not the cultural hub of this nation. The difference is, when New Yorkers claim to live in the best city in the country...well, there's a ring of truth to it. And that rubs people the wrong way. So, where in Cleveland it might seem like civic pride, in New York it comes off as unforgivably arrogant.

Similarly, I'm sure Belgians are very proud of their country, but the simple reality is that they live in...well, Belgium. Now, imagine if you can, being a guy from Brussels and turning on the TV to see George W. talking about how the United States is the greatest nation in the world, an appraisal no American politician seems shy about making. I imagine it would piss you off a bit. Why? Because some little piece of you would know it was true--but why do they have to say it all the time?

So, in the same way that Bostonians like to portray New York as one big crack den (something I still encounter, every time I head home for the holidays and pick up a newspaper), people from France and Germany like to bitch about America being a cultural wasteland.

What's my point, you ask? Don't have one. I just like talking shit.

THESE DREAMS

So I'm back at the library, and I'm sitting next to the very same crazy woman who talks to the screen. Apparently, she's the Norm Peterson of the Cleveland Public Library.

I feel like poop. I had a bit of the 'sauce' last night, just as I happened to be coming down with a slight cold. Combine those two elements with sleeping in a strange room, not to mention my general non-ability to get a good night's sleep, and you have the recipe for one of those long, horrific fever-dream nights. I swear to god, the night felt about 45 hours long. I kept slipping in and out of this strange dream, revolving around a professional sport where my friends and I took turns kicking each other in the stomach. Bliss, I tell you.

I feel better now, but I'm still in no condition to walk around a museum for hours on end, so the Hall of Fame will have to wait until tomorrow--I can't wait to check out the Stryper exhibit! I also plan on seeing this 'giant eraser' that everyone keeps raving about. That should take up a good 40 seconds. It's a full life. As for now, I'm staggering around with a slight touch of delirium--which, I have to admit, ain't all that bad. I feel like I've been 'huffing'.

Alright fuckers, I'm gone.

HELLO, CLEVELAND!

So, I've actually found Cleveland to be rather pleasant thusfar, other than the fact that everything (including most restaurants) seems to close before 7pm. 7pm?! Okay, that and one other thing: My rather large room at the Holiday Inn Express has the faint scent of urine. But other than that, things are peachy. The club I'm performing at (Hilarities, in the heart of downtown Cleveland) is quite nice. And the crowd, despite being rather small (it was a Tuesday and the night of the State of the Union, after all), was relatively bright and attentive. That's really all you can ask for, as a comic. Well, that and a backstage hummer from a beautiful waitress (I haven't yet brought this up with the management, but is it something I should really have to come right out and ask for? I mean, DUH! It's called 'being polite'--maybe you ladies should look into it.)

So...so...alone.

(sigh)

I'm currently sitting at one of the computers at the Cleveland Public Library. To one side of me, there is a man banging on his keyboard as if it fucked his wife, and on the other side, a very large woman in a furry leopard print hat. She seems to be having a conversation with the internet--she keeps saying things like "Whaaaaaaat?", "Yeah, that's what I thought!" and "No, I don't think so". It's almost enough to make me feel like I'm back in New York.

I haven't been to the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame yet (I don't want to shoot my tourism wad on the first day of my visit), but I am about to head off to...the mall! That's right, suckas! Jealous much? I'll think about you all when I'm checking out the super dope candles at Wicks 'n Sticks, or chilling at the Food Court! On the way, I'm pretty sure I'll be passing a "Quizno's", which advertises on television but, cruelly, doesn't exist in NYC. I have been dying to find out if toasted is, in fact, better. Now, it appears that I'll have that chance. God bless America.

GONE, AGAIN


Okay, so I'm once again off on a comedy sojourn, this time to the shining metropolis known as Cleveland, OH. Why, you ask? Well, I decided that this eleven-degree NYC weather is simply too balmy for me--I need some of those bone-chilling gusts sweeping in off the Great Lakes. I will be there for six entire days, which should give me just enough time to see all of the Cleveland sights, such as:

* The Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame
* The Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame gift shop
* The Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame rest rooms
* The hot dog vending cart outside the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame
* My hotel room
* Any bar that happens to be between my hotel room and the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame
* Rite Aid

If things get tedious, I may even go see a Cavs game. They're a professional basketball team, for those of you who do the I'm-too-intellectual-to-have-ever-heard-of-a-sports-team thing. Oh, and on that subject, I recently disovered that the Superbowl is gay (this takes a minute or so to load, then scroll down a bit).

So off I go to LaGuardia now. I'll be checking in from Ohio and I will be bored off my ass, so let's makes this week's comments extra juicy--lots of unbridled hostility, petty bickering and clumsy sexual innuendo. Make me proud.

NADA. ZILCH.


Okay, fuck this. I've spent the last 45 minutes sitting in front of this screen, trying to think of something funny to type. I could talk about the Superbowl party I went to last night, and how I was exactly two seconds away from winning the 'pool' and taking home $85 (damn, that fucking last minute touchdown bullshit), but that will just make me bitter. Or, I could talk about the halftime show and Sting's neverending crusade to obliterate any credibility he once possessed, but I just don't feel like it. I'm determined to say nothing of interest today. My condolences.

Therefore, it seems fitting that I direct you people to this rather amusing cartoon.

It's gotten a lot of press, so you may have already seen it.

Well, that's all. Stop reading now.

Okay, I will just wonder aloud about Sting for a moment. Does he have gambling debts that we're not aware of? Maybe a few secret families he needs to support? Because I can't think of any other reasons for him to do the shit he does. The whole time he was onstage, butchering his own legacy (btw, dude--you're too old for that shirt), I could have sworn I heard the faint sound of a cash register in the background.

Off the top of my head, let's review the embarassing shit Sting has done in the last decade or so, in an effort to make coin and/or appeal to the TRL generation:

* Allowing The Mouth-Breather Formerly Known as Puff Daddy to turn "Every Breath You Take" into a pathetic tribute to the late Notorious B.I.G.
* Appearing onstage with "Diddy" at the MTV Video Music Awards and perfomring said tribute song.
* Performing that unforgivably horrid "Desert Rose" song (the one with the Morroccan fellow vaterwauling in the background) in a Lexus commercial.
* Penning 5 songs for The Emperor's New Groove, a recent Disney flop.
* Performing "I Want it That Way" with the Backstreet Boys(!), again at the MTV Video Music Awards.
* Appearing in three separate Outback Steakhouse commericials a few years ago.
* Last night's superbowl travesty.


Okay, I made up the Outback Steakhouse thing. But for a moment, it seemed plausible, didn't it? If that's not a fucking indictment, I don't know what is.

MY DEVOTION TO YOU PEOPLE KNOWS NO BOUNDS

So here I am in Roswell, GA. I just walked a mile and a half to this library, as I am completely fucking addicted to checking my Email/blog. By the way, finding a library in Roswell, GA is a lot like looking for the Lost Ark of the Covenant. People have either never heard of it, don't believe it exists, or won't tell you where it is for fear of reprisal.

"The Library? Umm...no, never heard of it. I mean, why would I know where the library is? I don't even know what the word means, this...'library' of which you speak! Nope! You are talking to the wrong guy, my friend!! (Whispering,) You fool! You'll get us both killed!"

I've been told that this is a "White" suburb of Atlanta, which is predominantly "Black". (Not sure why I'm usuing quotation marks there, as the people actually are White and Black. Anyway...) Now I don't want to blithely make the stereotype of Southern people being racist, but I should mention that I did just pass a house with actual lawn jockeys out in the front yard. LAWN JOCKEYS! They also had two of those old "jiggaboo" figurines sitting in the garden--grinning, bug-eyed caricatures with black skin and big, red lips.

Classy. Very classy.

I will say this, though--everyone here is very nice. Like, ridiculously so. I had lunch at a place called "Folks Family Southern Kitchen", which is kind like a Cracker Barrell kind of place. And it sounds odd, but I got the feeling that my waitress really was happy to serve me. It was kind of creepy. She was really excited to be there, to be wearing the "Folks" uniform and passing out chicken fried steak to local rednecks and soccer moms. I both envied and pitied her, in that oh-so-condescending New York pseudo-intellectual way. I mean, she seemed to be in a state of pure contentedness, but I kept fighting the urge to shout, "Why the fuck are you so happy? Are you aware that you're a waitress at a homestyle chain restaurant in Roswell, GA? You do know there's more to life than this, don't you?" But I suppose that's what makes her a happy, well-adjusted human being and me...well, me.

Okay, that's all for now. Hope you're all enjoying your respective weekends.

TOODLES

I'm going away for a couple of days, to visit a charming 48 year old Belgian man I met in an internet chat room. He says he'll give me toffee.

Okay, that's not true (it was taffy, not toffee), but I am going away for what was to be My Weekend with Screech. Instead, I'll be opening for this guy. Why do I have the feeling he's going to ask me not to take the Lord's name in vain while on stage?

(Please let this weekend not suck...please let this weekend not suck...)

I'll file a report tomorrow, if I'm able.

REJECTED SUPERBOWL HALFTIME SHOW THEMES

"A Tribute to Secular Humanism!"

"Puddlemania!", the songs of Puddle of Mudd, as performed by Andrea Bocelli and Charlotte Church

"An All-Star Salute to Product Placement", brought to you by Delta Airlines, Exxon, Bud Lite, Ford Motors and Doritos

"Let's Hear it for Segregation!"

Sammy Hager presents "America Fever", starring Michael Buffer and the cast of "Spin City"

"Tights Ends, Wide Receivers", a Celebration of Hardcore Gay Sex

"The Death of Music", featuring Britney Spears, 'Nsync and Aerosmith (Hey, wait a minute...)

"Noam Chomsky Forever!"

A FEW RANDOM THOUGHTS

* I've been quite busy today, but I did beef up the "Chet Van Orr" thing from a couple day ago.

* If given the choice between the new Ben and Jerry's "Karamel Sutra" ice cream and self-esteem, I'll stick with the ice cream.

* There were auditions today for "Last Comic Standing" a new reality show where they put ten stand-up comics in a house. I chose not to audition, as I'm quite sure the show will be designed to make everyone involved look as ridiculous as possible. I'm sure some of them will deserve it, but I'm not going to subject myself to it. You see, comedy is like The Force and there are many, many people in this community who have given themselves over to the Dark Side--vanity, pettiness, jealousy and the 100% hateful need to be "funny" at all times. And every single time someone writes an article or films a documentary about stand up comedy, those are the kind of people they highlight. It makes sense--jackasses make for better storylines and douch-ey behavior simply reinforces people's negative stereotypes about stand up comedy. When people imagine a "baseball player", they think of Barry Bonds or Sammy Sosa. When they imagine a "guitar player", they think of Eric Clapton or Jimmy Page. However, when people hear the words "stand up comedian", they are reminded of that one douchebag they saw that one time--the guy with the mullet who did Lewinsky jokes and couldn't get any laughs. So no, I shan't be auditioning for "Last Comic Standing". Maybe it's a matter of dignity, or maybe I'm just afraid that the only thing worse then getting picked for a show like that is not getting picked for a show like that.

* You should all watch the debut of "Chappelle's Show" on Comedy Central, tonight at 10:30pm. I'm not in tonight's episode (I'm in one that will air in something like 4-6 weeks), but I guarantee you it's going to be funny as hell.

TOWER OF HUBRIS ALERT

I'm watching Fox News right now (for joke writing purposes only), and they just issued a 'FOX NEWS ALERT': Hispanics are now America's largest minority group.

This is a statistic that merits an alert? Do they have reporters stationed at hospitals? ("Marlena Rodriguez just had twins--GET ME THE NEWS DESK!") And it it just me, or is there something slightly racist about the term 'alert' in this context? Why not a 'bulletin', or 'breaking news'? 'Alert' implies "Oh, shit!"

"Ladies and gentlemen, Hispanics are now America's largest minority group......... Run! RUN! Lock up your daughters! Avoid Taco Bell at all costs!! Fox News is issuing an official Minority Warning!!! Aaaagghhhhhhh!!!!"

HERE COMES THE SUN


It's 6:27am and I just spent the last 2.5 hours watching Black Hawk Down. How in sweet christ am I supposed to get to sleep after watching this thing? And, perhaps more importantly, what the fuck is my problem that I would start watching a movie at 4:00am on a Monday morning? This is the way I'm starting my week? I'm not well versed in corporate philosophy, but I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that this is not one of the "7 Habits of Highly Effective People".

I was contemplating writing a '7 Habits of Highly Ineffective People' list, but decided it would be too hacky--a Google search for that phrase confirmed my suspicion.

Instead, I offer you "America Sings", a wonderful selection of 'song-poems'. It's very long, but also very wonderful. A bit of explanation as to how this thing came into existence can be found here. There really is so much to love here--the sub-Solid Gold dancing, the leotards, the feathered hair. It's beautiful to watch the awkward banter between the co-hosts. She obviously believes that this gig is going to catapult her to super-stardom, whereas he comes across more like Jennifer Jason Lee at the end of Last Exit to Brooklyn*. Particularly noteworthy is the company's name: Columbine Records. There's definitely a joke there, but I think I'll forego making it.

Anyway, enjoy.


(* If you haven't seen it...um...let's just say it ain't pretty.)

A brief message from CHET VAN ORR, '80s Movie Asshole-for-Hire

Yo Bradley, check it out� Look who just showed up.

Look geek, I don�t know how you found out about this party, but how about you take your little friends and head back to Nerdville?

See, you think you�ve got everybody fooled, but I�m onto you. You think I�m just going to let you waltz in here and steal my girl? In my senior year? Two weeks before the big homecoming game? Four days before the prom? Three hours before the Interdenominational Water-Balloon Toss and Texas Chili Cook-Off? Well, my friend, you are sorely mistaken. Am I right, Bradley? Up high.

(Big laugh, fake punch)

Look, you may have gotten lucky in the unicycle relay race, but don�t make the mistake of thinking you belong here. See, I own this school. I�m captain of the Bungee Surfing team, Vice-treasurer of the Origami Club, and my father owns the biggest tiffany lamp dealership in the State of California. And you? You�re a dork. You�ve always been a dork, and you�ll always be a dork. So do yourself a favor and go back to Hillside, where you belong, before somebody gets hurt.

Carlise, it�s time for you tell tell your little friend goodbye and get in the car. I said, get in the car!! What, you can�t actually tell me that you�re going to break up with me for this�geek?!

Well, I guess you really are a slut�just like your dead mother. Come on, Bradley, we�re out of here.

Bradley, let�s go. Bradley?

Fine.

Dickwad, you and I are going to settle this. Tonight. Stay out of it, slut�this doesn�t concern you! Miller�s Creek, behind Shopper�s World. Midnight. Be there.

Oh, and don�t forget to bring your jet ski.

JIVE TALKIN'


As I'm sure many of you have read, former Bee Gee Barry and Robin Gibb are investigating the mysterious circumstances surrounding brother Maurice's recent passing. Now, I'm waaaaay too classy to exploit this man's death in order to get a cheap laugh by making a "Staying Alive" joke. Nope. I'm above it.

It is worth noting, however, that a preliminary autopsy revealed that Mr. Gibb may have suffered a terminal case of "Night Fever".

Yeah, I know. I know.

MORE PLUGGING! (For me, this time)


Look, I know I occasionally litter this sacred web space with mentions of my career, most notably the show I host every Friday night. But I recently discovered something very curious and it's got me feeling a bit freaked out.

Perhaps some of you have read about the mysterious "Dark Side of the Rainbow"? For those unfamiliar, here's the gist: when played in tandem, "The Wizard of Oz" and Pink Floyd's album "Dark Side of the Moon" share a set of eerie coincidences. For instance, Dorothy's house gets swept up by the tornado during the Pink Floyd song "Great Gig in the Sky" and the album's final sound of a beating heart coincides with Dorothy placing her ear to the Tin Man's chest. Interesting, no?

Well, I was reviewing the lineup for this week's stellar installment of PORTABLE COMEDY, and I discovered that, if properly sychronized, this week's show shares a creepy similarity to Kenny Rogers' "Greatest Hits". First off, there's the whole "greatest" thing. On Friday, January 17th, Portable Comedy will be welcoming not one, but TWO writers for "The Daily Show with John Stewart", in my opinion the "greatest" show on TV. Secondly, one of Kenny Rogers' biggest hits was "Lady", and who do I just happen to have booked on tomorrow night's show? That's right: a lady. Two, actually. I don't know about you, but I just got goosebumps.

Oddest of all, I was just this week considering opening a chain of rotisserie chicken eateries. Still not convinced? Well, you'll have to come out to the show and see for yourself. Check out the lineup, yo:


ERIC DRYSDALE (In addition to his Emmy Award-winning work on "The Daily Show", Mr. Drysdale has appeared on Comedy Central's "Premium Blend". He knows when to hold 'em, but is sometimes unclear on when to fold 'em.)

CHRIS REGAN (Like his aforementioned colleague, Mr. Regan is an Emmy-winning "Daily Show" writer and "Premium Blend" alum. Whatever you do, don't call him the coward of the county.)

ALLISON CASTILLO (Ms. Castillo has performed at the presitgious Aspen Comedy Festival and was the subject of an MTV documentary on life as a comedian. She is truly one of the funniest islands in the comedy stream.)

JONATHAN CORBETT (In addition to performing at the Montreal Comedy Festival, Mr. Corbett recently appeared on "Premium Blend". Try as you might, you won't be able to avoid falling in love with this dreamer.)

PRESCOTT TOLK (Mr. Tolk performs all over the city and country and is a regular at the world-famous "Comic Strip" here in NYC. If forced, he will indeed take his love to town.)

CLARA BIJL (Straight from France, the land of Romance--not to mention bread that carves up the roof of your mouth--it's Clara Bijl. She will undoubtedly decorate your life.)

And, the details:

PORTABLE COMEDY
FRIDAY, JANUARY 17th
THE GERSHWIN HOTEL
7 East 27th Street
(b. 5th and Madison)
10:00pm
$5.00, FOLKS!

NOTE: It's been very crowded lately, so make sure you get there early, in order to ensure a seat!

Hope to see you there.



P.S. Yes, I know I'm shameless

FUTHER EVIDENCE THAT OUR SOCIETY WILL ONE DAY CRUMBLE AND FALL INTO THE SEA

A few days ago, I was having a semi-drunken conversation about the environment, and I happened to mention acid rain. A friend of mine, someone I consider a rather intelligent person, bellowed "Whoooooaaa, acid rain--there's a blast from the past!" Even more shocking, no one else at the table thought it a ridiculous thing to say. Now, as is often demonstrated on this very page, I'm not someone who fails to appreciate the value of Kitsch. Still, I find it unsettling that I have friends who store information about colossal dangers to the very existence of our planet in the same part of the brain usually reserved for Wang Chung song titles.

(Look, I know this entry isn't very entertaining. The well is a tad dry today, people--my apologies.)

MISSED OPPORTUNITIES


There's a party tonight for a television show I have a small part on, but it's just for the writers, crew and network people--no actors allowed. I think this is a grand policy, considring most parties consist entirely of actors. But I am a teensy bit bummed I wont be there, as there should be lots of hot production assistant ass in attendance. You see, we all have fetishes, and my major turn-on is a woman in a headset. Christ, is that hot! It gives a woman an air of authority--she's got things to arrange, bigwigs to placate, peons to belittle! And if she's also carrying a clipboard? Forget it, I'm in love. Sure, the women at this party won't actually be wearing headsets at the time, but that might even make it hotter--it'll be the night the production assistants let their hair down. Production Assistants Gone Wild!

I'm not so into roleplaying, but I'll know I've found my special someone when she suggests we play a hot little game of "Big Name Talent / Production Assistant". It will begin with me sitting in the 'green room', wearing a terrycloth robe, eating crudite and sipping mineral water (room temperature with no bubbles, as per my contract). Eventually, she will saunter in wearing a silk camisole, the requsite headset/clipboard combination and a thick belt, from which dangles a large set of keys.

"Mr. Finnegan, I think we're ready for you over here on the bed," she'll say.

PLUG TIME!

My friends Anne and Sydney are, collectively, The Ukes of Hazard. They recently produced their first music video, which can by enjoyed here. It's goddamn funny and the production values rock. If you're not an anus, you will enjoy it.

URINAL ETIQUETTE

Gentlemen, there is absolutely no reason to moan while you pee. Yeah, I know you really had to go. Yeah, I know it feels good. Yeah, I know. Stop moaning.

Also: If I don't know you, please don't start a conversation with me while we're both holding our dicks. Hell, even if I do know you. And if you are going to start a conversation with me while your dick is in your hand, please do not use your other hand to affably pat me on the back.

That's no good.


P.S. You can find these and other trenchant observations in my new book, "BREAKING THE SEAL: One Man's Adventures in Drunken Urination" (HarperCollins), available this Spring.

WORST SONGS TO HAVE SEX TO, The Sequel



"Who's Johnny?" by DeBarge

"Carry On My Wayward Son" by Kansas

Theme song from "The Great Space Coaster"

"Love Plus One" by Haircut 100

"We Shall Overcome" (Trad.)

"Chicken Soup with Rice" by Carol King

"Me and a Gun" by Tori Amos

"The Monster Mash" by Bobby "Boris" Picket and the Crypt-Kickers

"Man in Motion (Theme from St. Elmo's Fire)" by John Parr

"Operation: Mindcrime" by Queensryche

"Darling Nikki" by Prince (simply because your performance will never live up to it)

"The South's Gonna Rise Again" (Trad.)

THE HIGHS, THE LOWS

My professional comedy career has just taken an enormous hit. Later this month, I'm travelling down South to do three shows at some place called "The Funny Farm" for a rather puny amount of money. Why am I doing this, you ask? For the experience? Sure, I can always use more road gigs. Because I have nothing better to do that weekend? Well yeah, you got me there. But the real reason I was so excited to accept the gig was that I was scheduled to open for...

(drum roll, please)

...Mr. Dustin Diamond.

That's right, ladies and gentlemen--I was to be opening for Screech. I can't tell you how much I was looking forward to this. First off, I'm sure he draws big crowds, no doubt including dozens hot Gen X chicks on a nostalgia kick--in other words, my target demographic. Secondly, Screech has only been doing comedy for something like a year (apparently his "act" is comprised, largely, of "Saved by the Bell" anecdotes), so I probably would have come out looking like a pro. Secondly, a friend of mine did a show with him once and said that he's a genuinely nice guy, but a huge partier and an avid poontang enthusiast. I was really hoping to come back with a couple of good I-saw-Screech-snorting-blow-off-a-cocktail-waitress'-ass stories.

Alas, I got a call this morning and it appears that Screech has bailed. What the fuck does Screech have to do that he can't come out for a weekend and provide me with a few anecdotes? Stars, I tell you!

(Well...maybe notstars...but you know what I mean.)

And to think I was hoping for an introduction to Tiffani Amber Thiessen... Shattered dreams, shattered dreams.