Many of you have come to me with questions about our company's dress policy. Rather than spend any more time detailing it to individuals, I thought I would send a general memo, detailing appropriate dress for the following month, day-by-day. Please direct any further queries to Katherine (bowl of Twizzlers, near the restroom).
March:
Business Casual Monday
Business Casual Tuesday
Business Casual Wednesday
Business Casual Thursday
Casual Friday
Dressed-up Monday
Ratty Robe Tuesday (telecommuters)
Ratty Sweatshirt Wednesday (laundry day)
Lucky Socks Thursday
Lingere Friday (mandatory)
Dress Like Alan Thicke Monday
Only Sweater-Vests Tuesday
Fu-Manchu Wednesday
Uncle Scrooge Spats Thursday
Pashmina Diaper Friday
Toblerone Earmuffs Monday
Mitten-on-Feet, Sock-on-Hands Tuesday
19th Century Circus Strongman Wednesday
Visible Hernia Thursday
Creature of Energy and Light Friday
And, as always, though we do not work on the weekends, all employees are expected to remain nude, but for a plush shark suit, between the hours of 1:00 am Friday and 6:00 am Monday, and during all sexual intercourse.
Thank you.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Pure Filler
Once again, I was a finalist over at Daniel Radosh's New Yorker Anti-Caption Contest. Someday, I will take the top prize, and will finally ascend to my rightful place as Secretary General of Making Fun of the New Yorker.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Recycling Center: Rejected Jokes Edition
Zango!...
Israel's chief rabbi said in a religious ruling Tuesday that Jews must not wear fur skinned from live animals in order to prevent cruelty to animals. As a replacement, they suggested a stylish “foreskin coat.”
Prime Minister Tony Blair announced Wednesday that he will start pulling British troops out of Iraq next month, or, to put it in terms they understand, a “fortnight.”
Gambia's President Yahya Jammeh is claiming that his concoction of green herbal paste and bananas can cure AIDS, although you don’t want to know where you put the bananas.
It was reported that Britney Spears shaved her head after a fight with Kevin Federline, in which he threatened to have her hair tested to find out what drugs she has been using, proving once again that there’s nothing more entertaining than watching these two outsmart each-other.
Archeologists unveiled the tombs Tuesday of a Pharaonic butler and a scribe that have been buried for more than 3000 years. A preliminary autopsy on the scribe indicates the butler did it.
A man who was fired by IBM for visiting an adult chat room at work is suing the company for 5 million dollars, claiming he is an Internet addict who deserves treatment and sympathy rather than dismissal, especially since he’s supporting a wife and three women who spell Cindi with an “I.”
Australian officials plan to restrict and eventually ban the sale of incandescent light bulbs in an effort to cut greenhouse gas emissions by 4 million tons by 2012, reduce household power bills by up to 66 percent, and dramatically limit the number of Australians required to screw in a lightbulb.
Bill Gates said this week that he limits the amount of time his 10 year-old daughter can spend on the computer to 45 minutes a day for games, and 2 hours for removing spyware
Friday, February 23, 2007
In Which I Hold Forth on Matters Cinematical
My Oscar Predictions:
The Academy Awards will occur. Probably sometime on Sunday, February 25th. I'm thinking evening-ish.
Some awards will be given to actors. Others will be given to technicians. Most of the technical awards won't be televised, but the tech nerds will be thrown a bone by having their Oscars hosted by some hot actress.
People will dress up. People will talk about people being dressed up. At least two of those people will be named Rivers. Unfortunately, neither will be Rivers Cuomo. Someday, Mr. Spectacles. Someday.
--
In other movie-related news, this weekend, The Number 23 will finally dramatize the horror of seeing the same number lots of places.
I dunno why more movies don't have a number as their antagonist. Don't you remember the thrills, when James Bond faced off against that menacing bunch of negative integers?
In other 23-related news, I clearly put approximately 23 seconds of thought into this post.
TERRIFYING!
The Academy Awards will occur. Probably sometime on Sunday, February 25th. I'm thinking evening-ish.
Some awards will be given to actors. Others will be given to technicians. Most of the technical awards won't be televised, but the tech nerds will be thrown a bone by having their Oscars hosted by some hot actress.
People will dress up. People will talk about people being dressed up. At least two of those people will be named Rivers. Unfortunately, neither will be Rivers Cuomo. Someday, Mr. Spectacles. Someday.
--
In other movie-related news, this weekend, The Number 23 will finally dramatize the horror of seeing the same number lots of places.
I dunno why more movies don't have a number as their antagonist. Don't you remember the thrills, when James Bond faced off against that menacing bunch of negative integers?
In other 23-related news, I clearly put approximately 23 seconds of thought into this post.
TERRIFYING!
Thursday, February 22, 2007
In Which I Publish an Excerpt From My Literary Correspondence
Dear School-Chum,
Here is that introduction you requested. Hope the rigors of the literary circuit aren't getting you down, Ha-ha. Best Wishes, D.M.
October 8, 2002 – Tuesday
When my dear old friend Sir Pelham Grenville "Matt" (Matty) Bartmes asked me to write the introduction to the revised edition of his classic novel I Strode Thusly, I was thrilled. Not as thrilled as I would have been if he had requested that I write the introduction to the first edition, but that honor went to Salman Rushdie. I know that Mr. Rushdie is more of a "draw" in the literary world than I, but one cannot help feeling a twinge of pique. Perhaps if the ties of friendship ran deeper than the allure of a juicy quote from some flash-in-the-pan, fatwa-inspiring bearded wonder, the world would be a better place. Perhaps not. I am no literary agent, nor have I been able to get one, but I understand that Mr. Rushdie's benediction may have increased sales of I.S.T.—or "Istrothus" as the critics have taken to calling it—up to 50%. Nice work if you can get it, I suppose.
Quibbles aside, I feel I am in the position to provide special insight into the work of my old school chum Matty (or Beany as we used to call him, for reasons that elude me at present). He and I shared lodgings through much of our time at university, and I was the inspiration for the character of Reginald in his seminal work Clytemnestra's Weal as well as appearing as a minor character, under my own name, in his latest work Sturm and Drang. (Though I protest the monstrous harelip he provided Reginald in the former, and the portrait of me as a fey, mincing vaudeville entertainer in the latter.) Besides his frequent house calls and our collaboration on a failed modernization of The Great Gatsby, West Egg Blues, he and I have been in semi-weekly correspondence since our commencement, although he insists on sending our communiqués via telegram. Although this leads to a certain terseness of tone, his sterling prose is still very much in evidence. I quote from his latest missive:
HEY. MINCING. LIP-FACE. STOP
HOW. ABOUT. PISSING. OUT. AN. INTRO? STOP
SIR. M.. STOP
P.S. HOWS. THE. GOUT?
He is my best friend in the world, dear reader. And the gout is fine.
* * * *
Beany and I first came to be acquainted in my level one literature class. I, of course, had noticed him before, as he cut a distinctive figure striding across campus in full evening wear, impeccably tailored, smoking a cheroot or occasionally a calabash pipe. Yet it was in his natural habitat, the English department of blessed Old Haverford U. (tucked away in a cozy nook of Lord Sigfried-Tonszon the Third [Esq.] Honorary Mess Hall) where he was impossible to ignore. I was drawn to him instantly, when on the very first day of class he engaged the professor in a heated argument regarding the authorship Shakespeare's plays. The professor believed the dramatist was actually Sir. Francis Bacon, while Beany maintained it was a four-year-old girl from Kent named "Althea." Although Beany's assertion was a marriage of surmise with the sheerest conjecture, I was impressed not only by the intellectual rigor of his argument, but by his shrill, piercing voice. From that moment on we were inseparable.
From the start, I was convinced of Beany's greatness. Certain that the intellectual development of this towering figure would be of great value to future generations, I pledged myself to be Boswell to his Dr. Johnson. Throughout my tenure at university, I kept a journal detailing my experiences with Sir B. Although he would occasionally feign displeasure with my assiduous documentation ("Get out from behind those bushes with that damned notebook" he would screech at me, in his marvelous, joking way), I knew that deep down he appreciated my diligence. I ask that the reader indulge me as I present some of my favorite moments from these memoirs. Perhaps the following anecdotes may help illuminate the machinations of his elegant mind.
ME: Matty, what did you think of the school's production of As You Like It?
SIR MATT: It could hardly have been LONGER though it was quite WIDE enough.
Sir Matt B. and I were strolling through the quad, when we were nearly run over by a cabal of cyclists. Keeping his presence of mind about him, Sir. Matt was at no loss for a droll rejoinder.
SIR MATT: Get a HORSE!
When I asked his opinion regarding Kant's postulate of the categorical imperative:
SIR MATT: It is IMPERATIVE that you remove your SLEEVE from my SOUP, right NOW.
I provided him a first draft of my novella, "Christmas Morn, 1903" for his appraisal, in preparation for my Q-Level exams. In true illustration of his generous spirit, he agreed to sit down and critique it with me.
ME: What do you think?
SIR MATT: My dear boy, you will never be a first-rate writer until you learn SHORTHAND.
ME: Is that a euphemism?
SIR MATT: I would be EUPH-ORIC if it was.
ME: I don't understand.
SIR MATT: You don't STAND at ALL.
ME: You didn't read it, did you?
SIR MATT: Not as SUCH.
When I tried to engage him on a point of logic one evening while drinking at the pub:
SIR MATT: BLEEECH (various vomiting noises)
Pour over these remarks, my dears, and all the secret songs of the angels will be revealed to you.
* * * *
As to the novel itself, what more can I say? It is what it is. For better or for worse, since it's publication in 1979, "Istrothus" has forever changed the face of American writing. It is a work of fierce originality, except for the first eight chapters, which are cribbed (more or less word-for-word) from Mellville's Moby Dick, and for great portions of the concluding chapter, which are lifted from Tom Brown's School Days with a lot of unnecessary sex scenes added. Thankfully, these portions of the novel are more or less ancillary to the main narrative, which is set in 18th Century France and is the story of a young man's discovery of the world, following his rejection of a well-paying position in his family's petticoat concern.
I Strode Thusly straddles the divide between Sir Matt's early "immature" work, (including his books Lamb of Plenty, Call to Me; Sunday's the Day for Dyeing; Knavery in the Nave, and the Dickensian serial My Horrid Childhood as well as his play, Lost: One Pound of Flesh) and his later "even more immature" work (such as his towering five-volume epistolary novel, The Irrational History of Wuzwardish M. Gort and his collection of short stories, A Change of Clothes).
It is a coming-of-age tale in the truest sense, the literal one. The novel concludes with Francois coming of the age 18 and inheriting the whole of his family's petticoat monies, wrapped in a lace model HJ5-8.9 (The Parisian Fluffer), in an ironic commentary about the futility of trying to escape the past. I hope I haven't spoiled the ending for anyone. If so, they still have all that pornographic Tom Brown stuff to wade through.
I have not had an opportunity to peruse the revised edition, as Beany's publisher still has it under lock and key, but I certainly hope Sir. Matt has taken this opportunity to omit some of the more "writerly" flourishes that I believe marred the first edition—for one, the overuse of footnotes, ranging from the sublime ("It was on that very thoroughfare that, one summer's morn in late October, the russet-colored wind had swept around me, collecting in limpid pools at my feet, spurring me, once and for all, to entreat absolution from Jessica for the death of her cat.") to the ridiculous ("My bologna has a first name; it's O-S-C-A-R"). If you'll pardon the expression, why should the reader give a good G—damn if the author's luncheon meat has a first name or not (a claim vis-à-vis I have my doubts)? And why footnote it? Especially in a passage concerned, as it is, with the tragic death of one of the main characters. I feel it is a sore miscalculation that I hope he has taken the occasion to correct.
In a like manner, I believe chapters 17-38 to be an abomination before all mankind. In the course of these 234 pages, Beany seems to have decided to open up his Dictionary of Literary Terms and choose one stylistic device to over-use, per each page. For instance, on page 129, apropos of nothing, he practically beats us over the head with alliteration: "Gustave's gustatory gusto was guarded as his guests gulped the gumbo, gurgling with gumption." What purpose could this possibly serve? Likewise, page 177 is dripping with the pathetic fallacy: "Marcel's pants gazed at him from across the room, challenging him to put them on. He threw open the boisterous curtains and gazed down on the lusty road below. The sun shrieked "Get on with it, Marcie!" as the timorous moon set in the north. He looked wistfully back at his angst-ridden bed." I am willing to accept the conceit that pants challenge you to put them on, but how can a road be lusty? And the moon set in the north?!
Also, we can only hope that every occurrence of the adjective "horny" has been stricken from this volume.
Dearest reader, I hope with all my heart that these problems have been addressed, yet I fear the changes focus less on form than on content. Allow me to explain: As the original novel was primarily a work of historical fiction, Beany opened himself up to an unprecedented number of attacks concerning the veracity of the period depicted, and I suspect this latest edition is a futile attempt to correct these inaccuracies.
Some errors:
pg. 3 "He walked into the Guggenheim Museum." The Guggenheim is in New York. Also it did not exist in the 1700s.
Pg. 49 "He licked her eye, as was the custom." It was not the custom.
Pg. 99 "Frenchy Crepes was dancing, while Frenchy Parlez-Vous watched silently from the back." No people by those names ever existed. Ever. Also, French people aren't all named "Frenchy."
And so on. Also, the whole subplot about manufacturing digital watches, which occupies a good part of the latter half of the book is, of course, approximately 200 years premature.
* * * *
What's ahead for Sir Matt? Perhaps we can allow our old friend to rest on his literary laurels for a while, now that he's acquired the knighthood he diligently (some might say "desperately") campaigned for all his life. Originally, Beany was set to be knighted posthumously; but, as our Queen so memorably said, "The little bugger won't die." (Indeed, Your Highness, indeed.) Since his knighthood was eventually bestowed while he still had the vigor to use it to full advantage, he has chosen to do so. In the months since his knighting, he has been using his influence to campaign for the inclusion of land mines in several third world countries. Also he has returned to the stage for a series of one-man shows, titled, I am told, Sir Sing-a-lot! He seems to be enjoying his semi-retirement. Yet when I receive telegrams from the man himself, he wistfully speaks of his one yet-unfinished project, the much-discussed Phantasmeroneroticon (although one must read between the lines to detect any actual mention of the book).
So, dear reader, all that remains is the book itself. If you have read it before, prepare to be delighted all over again. If you've never read it, prepare for rough waters ahead.
Warmly,
Professor Dan (iel) K. McCoy, Esq. Q.C., Ph.D. M.D., B.B.C., Literary Hanger-on
Here is that introduction you requested. Hope the rigors of the literary circuit aren't getting you down, Ha-ha. Best Wishes, D.M.
October 8, 2002 – Tuesday
When my dear old friend Sir Pelham Grenville "Matt" (Matty) Bartmes asked me to write the introduction to the revised edition of his classic novel I Strode Thusly, I was thrilled. Not as thrilled as I would have been if he had requested that I write the introduction to the first edition, but that honor went to Salman Rushdie. I know that Mr. Rushdie is more of a "draw" in the literary world than I, but one cannot help feeling a twinge of pique. Perhaps if the ties of friendship ran deeper than the allure of a juicy quote from some flash-in-the-pan, fatwa-inspiring bearded wonder, the world would be a better place. Perhaps not. I am no literary agent, nor have I been able to get one, but I understand that Mr. Rushdie's benediction may have increased sales of I.S.T.—or "Istrothus" as the critics have taken to calling it—up to 50%. Nice work if you can get it, I suppose.
Quibbles aside, I feel I am in the position to provide special insight into the work of my old school chum Matty (or Beany as we used to call him, for reasons that elude me at present). He and I shared lodgings through much of our time at university, and I was the inspiration for the character of Reginald in his seminal work Clytemnestra's Weal as well as appearing as a minor character, under my own name, in his latest work Sturm and Drang. (Though I protest the monstrous harelip he provided Reginald in the former, and the portrait of me as a fey, mincing vaudeville entertainer in the latter.) Besides his frequent house calls and our collaboration on a failed modernization of The Great Gatsby, West Egg Blues, he and I have been in semi-weekly correspondence since our commencement, although he insists on sending our communiqués via telegram. Although this leads to a certain terseness of tone, his sterling prose is still very much in evidence. I quote from his latest missive:
HEY. MINCING. LIP-FACE. STOP
HOW. ABOUT. PISSING. OUT. AN. INTRO? STOP
SIR. M.. STOP
P.S. HOWS. THE. GOUT?
He is my best friend in the world, dear reader. And the gout is fine.
* * * *
Beany and I first came to be acquainted in my level one literature class. I, of course, had noticed him before, as he cut a distinctive figure striding across campus in full evening wear, impeccably tailored, smoking a cheroot or occasionally a calabash pipe. Yet it was in his natural habitat, the English department of blessed Old Haverford U. (tucked away in a cozy nook of Lord Sigfried-Tonszon the Third [Esq.] Honorary Mess Hall) where he was impossible to ignore. I was drawn to him instantly, when on the very first day of class he engaged the professor in a heated argument regarding the authorship Shakespeare's plays. The professor believed the dramatist was actually Sir. Francis Bacon, while Beany maintained it was a four-year-old girl from Kent named "Althea." Although Beany's assertion was a marriage of surmise with the sheerest conjecture, I was impressed not only by the intellectual rigor of his argument, but by his shrill, piercing voice. From that moment on we were inseparable.
From the start, I was convinced of Beany's greatness. Certain that the intellectual development of this towering figure would be of great value to future generations, I pledged myself to be Boswell to his Dr. Johnson. Throughout my tenure at university, I kept a journal detailing my experiences with Sir B. Although he would occasionally feign displeasure with my assiduous documentation ("Get out from behind those bushes with that damned notebook" he would screech at me, in his marvelous, joking way), I knew that deep down he appreciated my diligence. I ask that the reader indulge me as I present some of my favorite moments from these memoirs. Perhaps the following anecdotes may help illuminate the machinations of his elegant mind.
ME: Matty, what did you think of the school's production of As You Like It?
SIR MATT: It could hardly have been LONGER though it was quite WIDE enough.
Sir Matt B. and I were strolling through the quad, when we were nearly run over by a cabal of cyclists. Keeping his presence of mind about him, Sir. Matt was at no loss for a droll rejoinder.
SIR MATT: Get a HORSE!
When I asked his opinion regarding Kant's postulate of the categorical imperative:
SIR MATT: It is IMPERATIVE that you remove your SLEEVE from my SOUP, right NOW.
I provided him a first draft of my novella, "Christmas Morn, 1903" for his appraisal, in preparation for my Q-Level exams. In true illustration of his generous spirit, he agreed to sit down and critique it with me.
ME: What do you think?
SIR MATT: My dear boy, you will never be a first-rate writer until you learn SHORTHAND.
ME: Is that a euphemism?
SIR MATT: I would be EUPH-ORIC if it was.
ME: I don't understand.
SIR MATT: You don't STAND at ALL.
ME: You didn't read it, did you?
SIR MATT: Not as SUCH.
When I tried to engage him on a point of logic one evening while drinking at the pub:
SIR MATT: BLEEECH (various vomiting noises)
Pour over these remarks, my dears, and all the secret songs of the angels will be revealed to you.
* * * *
As to the novel itself, what more can I say? It is what it is. For better or for worse, since it's publication in 1979, "Istrothus" has forever changed the face of American writing. It is a work of fierce originality, except for the first eight chapters, which are cribbed (more or less word-for-word) from Mellville's Moby Dick, and for great portions of the concluding chapter, which are lifted from Tom Brown's School Days with a lot of unnecessary sex scenes added. Thankfully, these portions of the novel are more or less ancillary to the main narrative, which is set in 18th Century France and is the story of a young man's discovery of the world, following his rejection of a well-paying position in his family's petticoat concern.
I Strode Thusly straddles the divide between Sir Matt's early "immature" work, (including his books Lamb of Plenty, Call to Me; Sunday's the Day for Dyeing; Knavery in the Nave, and the Dickensian serial My Horrid Childhood as well as his play, Lost: One Pound of Flesh) and his later "even more immature" work (such as his towering five-volume epistolary novel, The Irrational History of Wuzwardish M. Gort and his collection of short stories, A Change of Clothes).
It is a coming-of-age tale in the truest sense, the literal one. The novel concludes with Francois coming of the age 18 and inheriting the whole of his family's petticoat monies, wrapped in a lace model HJ5-8.9 (The Parisian Fluffer), in an ironic commentary about the futility of trying to escape the past. I hope I haven't spoiled the ending for anyone. If so, they still have all that pornographic Tom Brown stuff to wade through.
I have not had an opportunity to peruse the revised edition, as Beany's publisher still has it under lock and key, but I certainly hope Sir. Matt has taken this opportunity to omit some of the more "writerly" flourishes that I believe marred the first edition—for one, the overuse of footnotes, ranging from the sublime ("It was on that very thoroughfare that, one summer's morn in late October, the russet-colored wind had swept around me, collecting in limpid pools at my feet, spurring me, once and for all, to entreat absolution from Jessica for the death of her cat.") to the ridiculous ("My bologna has a first name; it's O-S-C-A-R"). If you'll pardon the expression, why should the reader give a good G—damn if the author's luncheon meat has a first name or not (a claim vis-à-vis I have my doubts)? And why footnote it? Especially in a passage concerned, as it is, with the tragic death of one of the main characters. I feel it is a sore miscalculation that I hope he has taken the occasion to correct.
In a like manner, I believe chapters 17-38 to be an abomination before all mankind. In the course of these 234 pages, Beany seems to have decided to open up his Dictionary of Literary Terms and choose one stylistic device to over-use, per each page. For instance, on page 129, apropos of nothing, he practically beats us over the head with alliteration: "Gustave's gustatory gusto was guarded as his guests gulped the gumbo, gurgling with gumption." What purpose could this possibly serve? Likewise, page 177 is dripping with the pathetic fallacy: "Marcel's pants gazed at him from across the room, challenging him to put them on. He threw open the boisterous curtains and gazed down on the lusty road below. The sun shrieked "Get on with it, Marcie!" as the timorous moon set in the north. He looked wistfully back at his angst-ridden bed." I am willing to accept the conceit that pants challenge you to put them on, but how can a road be lusty? And the moon set in the north?!
Also, we can only hope that every occurrence of the adjective "horny" has been stricken from this volume.
Dearest reader, I hope with all my heart that these problems have been addressed, yet I fear the changes focus less on form than on content. Allow me to explain: As the original novel was primarily a work of historical fiction, Beany opened himself up to an unprecedented number of attacks concerning the veracity of the period depicted, and I suspect this latest edition is a futile attempt to correct these inaccuracies.
Some errors:
pg. 3 "He walked into the Guggenheim Museum." The Guggenheim is in New York. Also it did not exist in the 1700s.
Pg. 49 "He licked her eye, as was the custom." It was not the custom.
Pg. 99 "Frenchy Crepes was dancing, while Frenchy Parlez-Vous watched silently from the back." No people by those names ever existed. Ever. Also, French people aren't all named "Frenchy."
And so on. Also, the whole subplot about manufacturing digital watches, which occupies a good part of the latter half of the book is, of course, approximately 200 years premature.
* * * *
What's ahead for Sir Matt? Perhaps we can allow our old friend to rest on his literary laurels for a while, now that he's acquired the knighthood he diligently (some might say "desperately") campaigned for all his life. Originally, Beany was set to be knighted posthumously; but, as our Queen so memorably said, "The little bugger won't die." (Indeed, Your Highness, indeed.) Since his knighthood was eventually bestowed while he still had the vigor to use it to full advantage, he has chosen to do so. In the months since his knighting, he has been using his influence to campaign for the inclusion of land mines in several third world countries. Also he has returned to the stage for a series of one-man shows, titled, I am told, Sir Sing-a-lot! He seems to be enjoying his semi-retirement. Yet when I receive telegrams from the man himself, he wistfully speaks of his one yet-unfinished project, the much-discussed Phantasmeroneroticon (although one must read between the lines to detect any actual mention of the book).
So, dear reader, all that remains is the book itself. If you have read it before, prepare to be delighted all over again. If you've never read it, prepare for rough waters ahead.
Warmly,
Professor Dan (iel) K. McCoy, Esq. Q.C., Ph.D. M.D., B.B.C., Literary Hanger-on
Thursday, February 15, 2007
In Which I Publish Excerpts From My Future Collected Works
Like most creative, goal-oriented people, I want to have written a book, or several books, but have no interest in putting in the actual "writing" (what the French call "écriture") time needed to do so. Usually, around page ten-- at approximately the point when the second major character is introduced; the inciting event has ceased to be inciting anymore; or when Fifi puts her maid's outfit back on-- I hit the wall of my television-addled attention span and stop, usually to see what's on TV.
This habit may keep me up-to-date on the ever-growing field of ride-pimpery, but in has left me with multiple false starts. Rather than slap a hasty denouement on these aborted literary works and call them "novellas," I have decided to be optimistic, and look upon them as the first flowering of a varied and successful literary career. Anticipating the day when they will all be finished and collected in a handsome Modern Library edition (available in pre-order from me, now, for the price of $34.85) I present you these excerpts from my collected works. Think of it as a glance INTO THE FUTURE!
From Dorm Room/ Dorm Doom, the collegiate coming-of-age tale/ horror thriller. McSkinny's Press. Est. pub. date: February 2008.
My advisor aide was a half-Chicana girl, with lovely dark eyes and a Louise Brooks bob, a couple of years before bobs were fashionable (and, therefore, boring) again. She was pouring me a gin-and-tonic, finishing it off with a squirt from a plastic lime-shaped bottle. She handed it to me, and for a moment my brain was filled with thoughts of drunken freshman-senior making out, and other things best expressed by hyphen over-use.
"So, what do you want out of college?" she asked, settling back onto her bed.
"Oh, you know. I want to fall in love for the first time. Have sex. Be betrayed. Be forced to make a difficult decision. Realize that the woman I was in love with I wasn't really in love with. Betray a friend. Make up with the friend. Do stupid drunken things and have fun. Do stupid drunken things that have tragic consequences. Meet people different from myself. Fall in love for real. Emerge from the other side sadder but wiser. You know, the usual coming-of-age crap."
"Interesting... and how do you feel about meat cleavers?" she asked, reaching for a bloody meat cleaver, on her bedside table.
"I don't really have strong feelings about... AAAAGH!"
From The Mystery of the Guy Kevin Who Kills People, one of the 'baby's first murder mystery' series. Viper Children's. Est. pub. date: May 2010.
Inspector Balustrade delicately made his way around the crime scene. Although the body had been removed, a chalk "K" remained on the floor, a cold reminder of the corpse's unusual body alignment. An odd assortment of items were arranged ritualistically, encircling the K. These included a copy of the film "Clerks," a subway map of Brooklyn with the Nevins Street stop enlarged and the "N" blocked out, a signed poster of "Dances With Wolves," and Kevin Kline's actual Oscar for "A Fish Called Wanda," which had been reported stolen earlier that week.
Sidling over to a sergeant, the Inspector inquired, "Any idea who did this, Kevin?"
From How To Sit On a Flagpole: The Retro Guide For the Modern 1920's Hipster, the novelty how-to cash-in. Faddish Books. Est. pub. date: October 2013.
It is vitally important to wear pants.
From Get Your Rocks Off, Quick, the pornographic smash hit. Originally published in Quim Magazine, republished in The Least Embarrassing American Erotica 2015. Est. pub. date: January 2015.
As she withdrew his knish of pulchritude from her burning vermilion canyon, she felt strangely turned on, as if she'd just had sex or something.
"I'm going to clean out your pipes so hard," he whispered into her ear, managing (this time) to not drench her in saliva, in the process. "But first," he said, putting down the plumbing equipment, "Let's do it."
She breathlessly nodded her assent. Then she breathily nodded her assent. Then, she decided to nod her assent without giving much thought to her breathing at all. Finally, in case there had been any confusion, she combined a little vocal chord action with her breathiness.
"Yes. Take me five ways from Tuesday."
Taking no time to wonder why she chose Tuesday as her day of choice for him to take her five ways from, Victor yanked at his silken shirt. Buttons flew everywhere.
"Fuck. I paid sixty dollars for this shir...." He was interrupted mid-shirt by her probing tongue, probing his mouth canal like the most determined Mars probe. Her two love-moons burst from her chest-holster, in a flurry of ill-chosen imagery.
Twenty minutes later, it was all over. Fifi put her maid's outfit back on, thinking to herself, "Well, that was totally unfulfilling."
From My Memories of Memoirs, the memoir, taken from memoirs previously written but lost in a mysterious memoir-shredding incident, combined with unused material from Dorm Room/ Dorm Doom. Sedaris Knock-Off Library. Est. pub. date: June 2020.
And then, I remember, there was something really, really funny that I wrote about the way my dad combed his mustache. God, I wish I could remember it. I just know I couldn't do it justice if I tried to reproduce it here. Plus, my mom... oh, my mom, what a character! I wrote some stuff in my diary about her, I'll tell you what! Unfortunately, that diary is at home, and I can't get my mom to FedEx it to me. Well, I can, but she wants me to pay the shipping costs.
Anyway, when I went to college, my advisor aide was a half-Chicana girl, with lovely dark eyes and a Louise Brooks bob, a couple of years before bobs were fashionable (and, therefore, boring) again. She was pouring me a gin-and-tonic, finishing it off with a squirt from a plastic lime-shaped bottle. She handed it to me, and for a moment my brain was filled with thoughts of drunken freshman-senior making out, and other things best expressed by hyphen over-use.
From How I Lived So Amazingly Long, the true-life, tell-all. Originally published in Geria-tricks. Est. pub. date: August 3013.
Lots of cranberry juice, every day.
This habit may keep me up-to-date on the ever-growing field of ride-pimpery, but in has left me with multiple false starts. Rather than slap a hasty denouement on these aborted literary works and call them "novellas," I have decided to be optimistic, and look upon them as the first flowering of a varied and successful literary career. Anticipating the day when they will all be finished and collected in a handsome Modern Library edition (available in pre-order from me, now, for the price of $34.85) I present you these excerpts from my collected works. Think of it as a glance INTO THE FUTURE!
From Dorm Room/ Dorm Doom, the collegiate coming-of-age tale/ horror thriller. McSkinny's Press. Est. pub. date: February 2008.
My advisor aide was a half-Chicana girl, with lovely dark eyes and a Louise Brooks bob, a couple of years before bobs were fashionable (and, therefore, boring) again. She was pouring me a gin-and-tonic, finishing it off with a squirt from a plastic lime-shaped bottle. She handed it to me, and for a moment my brain was filled with thoughts of drunken freshman-senior making out, and other things best expressed by hyphen over-use.
"So, what do you want out of college?" she asked, settling back onto her bed.
"Oh, you know. I want to fall in love for the first time. Have sex. Be betrayed. Be forced to make a difficult decision. Realize that the woman I was in love with I wasn't really in love with. Betray a friend. Make up with the friend. Do stupid drunken things and have fun. Do stupid drunken things that have tragic consequences. Meet people different from myself. Fall in love for real. Emerge from the other side sadder but wiser. You know, the usual coming-of-age crap."
"Interesting... and how do you feel about meat cleavers?" she asked, reaching for a bloody meat cleaver, on her bedside table.
"I don't really have strong feelings about... AAAAGH!"
From The Mystery of the Guy Kevin Who Kills People, one of the 'baby's first murder mystery' series. Viper Children's. Est. pub. date: May 2010.
Inspector Balustrade delicately made his way around the crime scene. Although the body had been removed, a chalk "K" remained on the floor, a cold reminder of the corpse's unusual body alignment. An odd assortment of items were arranged ritualistically, encircling the K. These included a copy of the film "Clerks," a subway map of Brooklyn with the Nevins Street stop enlarged and the "N" blocked out, a signed poster of "Dances With Wolves," and Kevin Kline's actual Oscar for "A Fish Called Wanda," which had been reported stolen earlier that week.
Sidling over to a sergeant, the Inspector inquired, "Any idea who did this, Kevin?"
From How To Sit On a Flagpole: The Retro Guide For the Modern 1920's Hipster, the novelty how-to cash-in. Faddish Books. Est. pub. date: October 2013.
It is vitally important to wear pants.
From Get Your Rocks Off, Quick, the pornographic smash hit. Originally published in Quim Magazine, republished in The Least Embarrassing American Erotica 2015. Est. pub. date: January 2015.
As she withdrew his knish of pulchritude from her burning vermilion canyon, she felt strangely turned on, as if she'd just had sex or something.
"I'm going to clean out your pipes so hard," he whispered into her ear, managing (this time) to not drench her in saliva, in the process. "But first," he said, putting down the plumbing equipment, "Let's do it."
She breathlessly nodded her assent. Then she breathily nodded her assent. Then, she decided to nod her assent without giving much thought to her breathing at all. Finally, in case there had been any confusion, she combined a little vocal chord action with her breathiness.
"Yes. Take me five ways from Tuesday."
Taking no time to wonder why she chose Tuesday as her day of choice for him to take her five ways from, Victor yanked at his silken shirt. Buttons flew everywhere.
"Fuck. I paid sixty dollars for this shir...." He was interrupted mid-shirt by her probing tongue, probing his mouth canal like the most determined Mars probe. Her two love-moons burst from her chest-holster, in a flurry of ill-chosen imagery.
Twenty minutes later, it was all over. Fifi put her maid's outfit back on, thinking to herself, "Well, that was totally unfulfilling."
From My Memories of Memoirs, the memoir, taken from memoirs previously written but lost in a mysterious memoir-shredding incident, combined with unused material from Dorm Room/ Dorm Doom. Sedaris Knock-Off Library. Est. pub. date: June 2020.
And then, I remember, there was something really, really funny that I wrote about the way my dad combed his mustache. God, I wish I could remember it. I just know I couldn't do it justice if I tried to reproduce it here. Plus, my mom... oh, my mom, what a character! I wrote some stuff in my diary about her, I'll tell you what! Unfortunately, that diary is at home, and I can't get my mom to FedEx it to me. Well, I can, but she wants me to pay the shipping costs.
Anyway, when I went to college, my advisor aide was a half-Chicana girl, with lovely dark eyes and a Louise Brooks bob, a couple of years before bobs were fashionable (and, therefore, boring) again. She was pouring me a gin-and-tonic, finishing it off with a squirt from a plastic lime-shaped bottle. She handed it to me, and for a moment my brain was filled with thoughts of drunken freshman-senior making out, and other things best expressed by hyphen over-use.
From How I Lived So Amazingly Long, the true-life, tell-all. Originally published in Geria-tricks. Est. pub. date: August 3013.
Lots of cranberry juice, every day.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Friend Plug Corner: Valentine's Video Cavalcade
I did a sketch show with a bunch of folks for Halloween, back around... Halloween. Many of the same folks put together a Valentine's Day sketch show that ran this last weekend. I've been busy working on some other things, so I wasn't involved. However, I did go as an audience member and greatly enjoyed myself.
Anyway, I'm posting about this, because nearly the entire show is now up on YouTube, so if you're having a boring Monday, I urge you to watch and enjoy. I recommend Kate and Theodore (2 parts), The Florist, and The Gondola.
Anyway, I'm posting about this, because nearly the entire show is now up on YouTube, so if you're having a boring Monday, I urge you to watch and enjoy. I recommend Kate and Theodore (2 parts), The Florist, and The Gondola.
Recycling Center: Rejected Jokes Edition
Even better than the real thing...
Astronaut Lisa Nowak, who has been accused of attempted murder and kidnapping in a love triangle involving a fellow astronaut, was released on bail Tuesday but ordered to wear a monitoring device, and to not leave the planet.
While appearing on the Ellen DeGeneres show, Christina Aguilera revealed that she and her husband have "Naked Sundays," where they do everything naked, including cooking, followed by “Oil Burn Mondays.”
A 76 year-old woman from Malaysia, has been reunited with her family 25 years after she got on the wrong bus. Worse yet, the bus had no restrooms.
Archaeologists in Italy have discovered a couple buried 6000 years ago, still hugging each other. Their discovery will be reported in “Things Goths Find Romantic Magazine.”
A woman in China has launched a company where she hires herself out as a professional bridesmaid to help smooth over problems during weddings. It’s called “Always A Bridesmaid, Never A Bride – I Mean That in the Literal Sense, and Also You Owe Me $500.”
A new study shows that children who do not get enough sleep are more likely to be overweight than those who get more sleep. And those who sleep all the time are more likely to be comatose.
A Florida theater changed the name of "The Vagina Monologues" to "The Hoohaa Monologues" after a woman complained that her niece asked her what a vagina was. The theater regrets that it caused a girl to learn about a part of her body.
Nashville's city council has voted to adopt English as its official language, y’all.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
In Which I Imagine a Libelous Conversation Involving an American Hero
So, the news channels are all over this Lisa Nowak/ Astronaut attempted murder case, and what I like most about the coverage is that the producers hear "astronaut," and they just drag the most famous astronaut they can snag into the studio, whether or not there's a real reason for them to be there.
Example? I was in a bar on Tuesday, and saw an interviewer talking to Buzz Aldrin about the case. The sound was turned down, so I don't know what they were saying, but I imagine that the conversation went along these lines:
INTERVIEWER: ...So we've got some legal experts to talk about the case, and family members, and Buzz Aldrin is here to... why are you here Mr. Aldrin?
ALDRIN: Because I went to the moon! Have I told you the story of how I went to the moon?
INTERVIEWER: Many times, Buzz.
ALDRIN: You better show me more respect, son! I was the first man on the moon!
INTERVIEWER: Wasn't Neil Armstrong the first man on the moon?
ALDRIN: Armstrong! That bastard beat me to the moon! Do you realize the differential in the tail you get, if you're the second man on the moon? It's ridiculous!
INTERVIEWER: Yes, well, can we get back to the Lisa Nowak stor...
ALDRIN: In fact, I think I'll pay a little visit to my dear friend Neil Armstrong RIGHT NOW.
(Picks up BB gun and pepper spray. Leaves the set. Sound of car door slamming. Car pealing away.)
Yes, I'm pretty sure that's the way it went.
Example? I was in a bar on Tuesday, and saw an interviewer talking to Buzz Aldrin about the case. The sound was turned down, so I don't know what they were saying, but I imagine that the conversation went along these lines:
INTERVIEWER: ...So we've got some legal experts to talk about the case, and family members, and Buzz Aldrin is here to... why are you here Mr. Aldrin?
ALDRIN: Because I went to the moon! Have I told you the story of how I went to the moon?
INTERVIEWER: Many times, Buzz.
ALDRIN: You better show me more respect, son! I was the first man on the moon!
INTERVIEWER: Wasn't Neil Armstrong the first man on the moon?
ALDRIN: Armstrong! That bastard beat me to the moon! Do you realize the differential in the tail you get, if you're the second man on the moon? It's ridiculous!
INTERVIEWER: Yes, well, can we get back to the Lisa Nowak stor...
ALDRIN: In fact, I think I'll pay a little visit to my dear friend Neil Armstrong RIGHT NOW.
(Picks up BB gun and pepper spray. Leaves the set. Sound of car door slamming. Car pealing away.)
Yes, I'm pretty sure that's the way it went.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
In Which I Detail My Gambling Problems
Man oh man. I'm so screwed! I owe ten grand after last Sunday's game. What am I gonna do? Why did I have to make those bets?
Yeah, that's right. I lost a bundle on Puppy Bowl III.
Jesus, it all seems like a bad dream. I wish I could go back to last Saturday and take back that call to my bookie. You see, I bet that the puppies wouldn't be adorable.
BUT THEY WERE TOTALLY ADORABLE!
Oh my God! They were all furry and playful and cute, damn them! And with every look from their deep, brown eyes, I could feel my bank account draining away! DAMN YOU, YOU FUZZY WUZZY WUMPLEKINS... oh, look at you! You're splashing all the water out of your water bowl! I could never stay mad at you!
You might say, "Dan, why would you make a bet like that?" And, y'know... I had a feeling at the time that it was a bad bet. But it's always the long-shot bets that pay off the sweetest!
Besides, I figured that even if my primary wager didn't come through, I'd cover myself with some side action. For instance, I bet that there wouldn't be much scampering. BUT THERE WAS SO MUCH SCAMPERING! I bet that there wouldn't be any cocking-of-the-head, with a quizzical look, in such a way that one ear folded over in a sweet way. But guess what? THAT HAPPENED TOO!
God, I'm so stupid! Right now my bookie is sending over hundreds of darling little killer puppies to bury me in a smothering, suffocating, massacre of love! What am I gonna do?!
Yeah, that's right. I lost a bundle on Puppy Bowl III.
Jesus, it all seems like a bad dream. I wish I could go back to last Saturday and take back that call to my bookie. You see, I bet that the puppies wouldn't be adorable.
BUT THEY WERE TOTALLY ADORABLE!
Oh my God! They were all furry and playful and cute, damn them! And with every look from their deep, brown eyes, I could feel my bank account draining away! DAMN YOU, YOU FUZZY WUZZY WUMPLEKINS... oh, look at you! You're splashing all the water out of your water bowl! I could never stay mad at you!
You might say, "Dan, why would you make a bet like that?" And, y'know... I had a feeling at the time that it was a bad bet. But it's always the long-shot bets that pay off the sweetest!
Besides, I figured that even if my primary wager didn't come through, I'd cover myself with some side action. For instance, I bet that there wouldn't be much scampering. BUT THERE WAS SO MUCH SCAMPERING! I bet that there wouldn't be any cocking-of-the-head, with a quizzical look, in such a way that one ear folded over in a sweet way. But guess what? THAT HAPPENED TOO!
God, I'm so stupid! Right now my bookie is sending over hundreds of darling little killer puppies to bury me in a smothering, suffocating, massacre of love! What am I gonna do?!
Monday, February 05, 2007
Recycling Center: Rejected Jokes Edition
My failure is your windfall...
A new study suggests that lavender and tea tree oils found in some shampoos, soaps, and lotions can temporarily leave boys with enlarged breasts in rare cases. Thankfully, boys know just what to do when confronted with breasts and lotion.
A new study suggests that lavender and tea tree oils found in some shampoos, soaps, and lotions can temporarily leave boys with enlarged breasts in rare cases. Thankfully, boys know just what to do when confronted with breasts and lotion.
A woman in Florida claimed Wednesday that she found a razor blade in her McDonald's breakfast sandwich. The manager promised to fire those responsible, after discovering that the sandwich had been served after 10:30 am.
Harry Potter star Daniel Radcliffe will appear naked in a British stage revival of "Equus,” or, as fans are calling it, “Harry Potter and the Order of the Penis.”
Sidney Sheldon, the best-selling author and the producer of “I Dream of Jeannie,” died this week at the age of 89. In memoriam, a penny was placed over his belly button.
The UN's first female-only peace-keeping contingent, made up of about 100 Indian police officers, arrived in Liberia this week, otherwise known as “Vishnu’s Angels”
A Los Angeles immigration judge who previously denied a gay Mexican man's 2004 asylum bid on the grounds that he could simply conceal his sexual orientation if he returned to Mexico, reversed the decision Tuesday, citing the tragic case of gay mouse Flamboyant Gonzales.
The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences is offering the services of three writers to help Oscar nominees with their speeches. Unfortunately, they’re the writers of Epic Movie.
Friday, February 02, 2007
In Which I Suggest Several Brilliant Ideas For Video Games
SimLewisLapham
In this exciting simulation game, you get to see what it would be like to be Harper's magazine editor, Lewis Lapham! Compose "Notebook" articles detailing the failures of the Bush administration directed at the people who most need to hear it--your almost exclusively liberal, over-educated readership! Take part in panels in which you excoriate the traditional press for their compliant war coverage! Thank heaven for the MacArthur Foundation, which allows you to fund all this without worrying about magazine sales! But watch out--if you're hit by a Koopa Paratroopa, you'll die!
Copyright Infringement Rumble
Play as Spider-Man, Pikachu, Mickey Mouse, Batman, Alias' Sydney Bristow, Beatle Bailey, Luke Skywalker, SpongeBob SquarePants, King Kong, Oprah Winfrey, or any number of other characters we've neglected to clear the rights to, in this all-out throw-down fighting game!
Beat The Shit Out of Private Residences and the People Living Inside
Take the Grand Theft Auto concept one step further, with this fully interactive suburban environment. Roam from house to house breaking windows, spray-painting rude limericks on aluminum siding, and inviting your thug friends over for impromptu cook-outs using other people's gas grills. Then enter the houses to find over 1,000 discrete characters of all ethnicities and ages (utilizing the latest artificial intelligence), for you to kill, maim, or molest… our favorite is molest!
Inexplicable Cute Japanese Thing That Five-Year-Olds Will Love
What is that thing? Is it a big pink gelatinous blob? It has ears, though. I... I think they're ears. Maybe they're supposed to be vestigial wings. Whatever it is, it's poorly-animated. What's that language he talks? Oh, that's his name. Why does he keep referring to himself in the third person, then? You say there's a card game that goes along with this? So is the card game an ad for the video game or is the video game an ad for the card game? Or are they both an ad for the cartoon? Wait, the video game is about the cartoon, which is about kids playing the card game? Well, whatever it is, it's synergy-tastic!
Game With Nudity In It
Hey—that's a video game character, but she's totally naked. Awesome! Video games aren't just for kids anymore! They're for adolescent 30-year olds!
In this exciting simulation game, you get to see what it would be like to be Harper's magazine editor, Lewis Lapham! Compose "Notebook" articles detailing the failures of the Bush administration directed at the people who most need to hear it--your almost exclusively liberal, over-educated readership! Take part in panels in which you excoriate the traditional press for their compliant war coverage! Thank heaven for the MacArthur Foundation, which allows you to fund all this without worrying about magazine sales! But watch out--if you're hit by a Koopa Paratroopa, you'll die!
Copyright Infringement Rumble
Play as Spider-Man, Pikachu, Mickey Mouse, Batman, Alias' Sydney Bristow, Beatle Bailey, Luke Skywalker, SpongeBob SquarePants, King Kong, Oprah Winfrey, or any number of other characters we've neglected to clear the rights to, in this all-out throw-down fighting game!
Beat The Shit Out of Private Residences and the People Living Inside
Take the Grand Theft Auto concept one step further, with this fully interactive suburban environment. Roam from house to house breaking windows, spray-painting rude limericks on aluminum siding, and inviting your thug friends over for impromptu cook-outs using other people's gas grills. Then enter the houses to find over 1,000 discrete characters of all ethnicities and ages (utilizing the latest artificial intelligence), for you to kill, maim, or molest… our favorite is molest!
Inexplicable Cute Japanese Thing That Five-Year-Olds Will Love
What is that thing? Is it a big pink gelatinous blob? It has ears, though. I... I think they're ears. Maybe they're supposed to be vestigial wings. Whatever it is, it's poorly-animated. What's that language he talks? Oh, that's his name. Why does he keep referring to himself in the third person, then? You say there's a card game that goes along with this? So is the card game an ad for the video game or is the video game an ad for the card game? Or are they both an ad for the cartoon? Wait, the video game is about the cartoon, which is about kids playing the card game? Well, whatever it is, it's synergy-tastic!
Game With Nudity In It
Hey—that's a video game character, but she's totally naked. Awesome! Video games aren't just for kids anymore! They're for adolescent 30-year olds!
Friday, January 26, 2007
It's Not Even 2008 Yet, and the Smears Have Already Begun!
(Courtesy of Ritch Duncan)
Then again, look at the shocking photo of Mr. Duncan we had our archivist dig up...
Monday, January 22, 2007
Recycling Center: Rejected Jokes Edition
Taste the mild amusement...
It was announced that the hit show Queer Eye for the Straight Guy will end production after the fifth season ends this summer. Now if five gay men break into your house, it just means the Village People need a little Quaalude money.
Officials at the Chimp Haven in the Shreveport, Louisiana zoo were surprised when a female chimpanzee gave birth, despite the fact that the facility's entire male population has had vasectomies. Could this be the long-foretold birth of Chimp Jesus?
DEA agents said Tuesday that they have dismantled a Colombian heroin ring by arresting several couriers who stitched packets of drugs into their pants and then took cruise ships to the US. In short: there was a party in their pants, and everyone was indicted.
On Tuesday Donald Trump got a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, followed by a star-studded night of celebrity corpses rolling over in their graves.
It is rumored that Matthew McConaughey will play Magnum PI in a movie version of the hit TV show, and is looking forward to making good on his many mustache ride promises.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Recycling Center: Rejected Jokes Edition
The saga continues...
On Tuesday Apple unveiled its iPhone, which is a new touch-screen cell-phone that contains an iPod, OS X operating system, Wi-Fi connection, camera, can play full screen video, and can urinate on a Microsoft Zune from up to 60 feet.
Paris Hilton pleaded not guilty on Tuesday to DUI charges in Los Angeles, although she still has an outstanding IUD record, in all fifty states.
Former revolutionary Daniel Ortega, who was one of Washington's most bitter foes, was sworn in as President of Nicaragua on Wednesday. In response, President Bush said he was unconcerned, as he had heard that Ortega was both thick and chunky.
The body of the late James Brown has yet to be buried as attorneys and his children work to settle issues surrounding his estate, and the audience waits, hoping that his cape will magically revive him.
Duke University's applications for admission declined over 4 percent from a record last year in the aftermath of rape charges against members of the school's lacrosse team. Also not helping: their new Fitness Complex and Rapetorium.
The Transportation Security Administration will now allow companies to sell ads inside plastic bins whose sole purpose so far has been to move passengers' belongings through X-ray machines. A TSA administrator said, “We believe that ad agencies won’t be able to resist this opportunity to associate their products with shoelessness and frustration.”
A new political battle started this week over the terms used to describe the additional troops being sent to Iraq, with the President calling it a "surge" and Democrats calling it an "escalation." Whereas Iraqis call it, “Thursday.”
The Habsburg family said Wednesday that it wanted to sell a Transylvanian castle famous for its connections to Vlad the Impaler, who was the inspiration for Dracula, for 78 million dollars, or to the first person to spend a night in the castle alone.
A former Colorado high school basketball coach is facing 39 charges of allegedly hitting male students in the groin, showing them pornography, and pouring water on his players then driving them to games in the winter with the windows down. His heartwarming story will be told in the upcoming film “Abusiers.”
It was revealed this week that the late Law and Order actor, Jerry Orbach, donated his eyes after his death to two women who needed new corneas, which explains why, when confronted with a corpse, they now feel compelled to make a wisecrack.
On Tuesday Apple unveiled its iPhone, which is a new touch-screen cell-phone that contains an iPod, OS X operating system, Wi-Fi connection, camera, can play full screen video, and can urinate on a Microsoft Zune from up to 60 feet.
Paris Hilton pleaded not guilty on Tuesday to DUI charges in Los Angeles, although she still has an outstanding IUD record, in all fifty states.
Former revolutionary Daniel Ortega, who was one of Washington's most bitter foes, was sworn in as President of Nicaragua on Wednesday. In response, President Bush said he was unconcerned, as he had heard that Ortega was both thick and chunky.
The body of the late James Brown has yet to be buried as attorneys and his children work to settle issues surrounding his estate, and the audience waits, hoping that his cape will magically revive him.
Duke University's applications for admission declined over 4 percent from a record last year in the aftermath of rape charges against members of the school's lacrosse team. Also not helping: their new Fitness Complex and Rapetorium.
The Transportation Security Administration will now allow companies to sell ads inside plastic bins whose sole purpose so far has been to move passengers' belongings through X-ray machines. A TSA administrator said, “We believe that ad agencies won’t be able to resist this opportunity to associate their products with shoelessness and frustration.”
A new political battle started this week over the terms used to describe the additional troops being sent to Iraq, with the President calling it a "surge" and Democrats calling it an "escalation." Whereas Iraqis call it, “Thursday.”
The Habsburg family said Wednesday that it wanted to sell a Transylvanian castle famous for its connections to Vlad the Impaler, who was the inspiration for Dracula, for 78 million dollars, or to the first person to spend a night in the castle alone.
A former Colorado high school basketball coach is facing 39 charges of allegedly hitting male students in the groin, showing them pornography, and pouring water on his players then driving them to games in the winter with the windows down. His heartwarming story will be told in the upcoming film “Abusiers.”
It was revealed this week that the late Law and Order actor, Jerry Orbach, donated his eyes after his death to two women who needed new corneas, which explains why, when confronted with a corpse, they now feel compelled to make a wisecrack.
Pure Filler
Hey, I'm one of the runners-up this week, over at Daniel Radosh's New Yorker Anti-Caption Contest.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Publications Running Humor Pieces That Are Slightly More Funny Than The New Yorker's, but Are Also More Precious and Irritating
McSweeney's
McSweeney's
McSweeney's
MAD Magazine (Dave Eggers guest editor)
McSweeney's
McSweeney's
McSweeney's
MAD Magazine (Dave Eggers guest editor)
McSweeney's
Friday, January 05, 2007
Why Yes, I Was in a Music Video (Updated)
Updated: the original YouTube video was extra fuzzy for some reason, but the problem has since been fixed.
--
Way back in the summer, videographer/ rapper extraordinare John Kingman put together this music video for Sara Schaefer's smash UCBT show, Video Gaga. Check me out in a featured cameo as John's hot dog eating coach.
Because of some technical difficulties, John couldn't get it up on YouTube until now, but that just means that you have one more thing to brighten up your dark winter months.
By the way, if the embedded video doesn't load, try this link: Lips & A**holes, by Colonel Bastard. The rapper, not the band. Oh, and another of John's music videos (sadly Dan-free as it may be) can be found here.
--
Way back in the summer, videographer/ rapper extraordinare John Kingman put together this music video for Sara Schaefer's smash UCBT show, Video Gaga. Check me out in a featured cameo as John's hot dog eating coach.
Because of some technical difficulties, John couldn't get it up on YouTube until now, but that just means that you have one more thing to brighten up your dark winter months.
By the way, if the embedded video doesn't load, try this link: Lips & A**holes, by Colonel Bastard. The rapper, not the band. Oh, and another of John's music videos (sadly Dan-free as it may be) can be found here.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
I Did Something Very Vague and TV-Related Last Night
So I can't get into details or I might get in trouble, but I shot a minor role in a hidden-camera-type TV pilot last night. Thanks be to one of my old comedy cohorts for getting me the gig. As I said, details are verboten, but my friend said that I could probably mention it as long as I'm "very vague." Since I'm currently a little hard-up for news for this site, consider this my very own Page Six blind item.
Anyway, if the pilot sees air, I will definitely let everyone know when and where they can see it. Watch this space.
Anyway, if the pilot sees air, I will definitely let everyone know when and where they can see it. Watch this space.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Thursday, December 28, 2006
I'm on Fist City Again, TONIGHT
Could this be the birth of a new Internet radio star? Is there such a thing? Find out tonight, as I make my triumphant return to Fist City, in their super-sized second episode! And this time I do it before the final five minutes!
Here's Fist City co-host Elliott Kalan's pitch:
Alright, FIST CITY fans,
You already know that FIST CITY, your favorite online radio comedy show hosted by Brock Mahan and Elliott Kalan, is now on East Village Radio every thursday night at 9pm.
But did you know that TONIGHT, that beloved program will be appearing at 8 PM for a 2 HOUR COMEDY EXPLOSION?!
That's right, tonight at 8pm tune into www.eastvillageradio.com for the "Fist City 2nd Episode Spectacular", celebrating two amazing episodes of FIST CITY with celebrity guests, memories, and an encore presentation of Part One of the rousing pirate serial drama "Babybeard"!
Then, at 9pm, stay with us for the newest episode of FIST CITY, featuring jokes, gags, a man raised by wolves, and the world premier of Part Two of "Babybeard"!
It's twice the comedy, twice the awesomeness, twice the time! And at the same great price of FREE! Listen, won't you?
FIST CITY - TONIGHT! - 8pm - 10pm
www.eastvillageradio.com - or subscribe to the podcast.
Here's Fist City co-host Elliott Kalan's pitch:
Alright, FIST CITY fans,
You already know that FIST CITY, your favorite online radio comedy show hosted by Brock Mahan and Elliott Kalan, is now on East Village Radio every thursday night at 9pm.
But did you know that TONIGHT, that beloved program will be appearing at 8 PM for a 2 HOUR COMEDY EXPLOSION?!
That's right, tonight at 8pm tune into www.eastvillageradio.com for the "Fist City 2nd Episode Spectacular", celebrating two amazing episodes of FIST CITY with celebrity guests, memories, and an encore presentation of Part One of the rousing pirate serial drama "Babybeard"!
Then, at 9pm, stay with us for the newest episode of FIST CITY, featuring jokes, gags, a man raised by wolves, and the world premier of Part Two of "Babybeard"!
It's twice the comedy, twice the awesomeness, twice the time! And at the same great price of FREE! Listen, won't you?
FIST CITY - TONIGHT! - 8pm - 10pm
www.eastvillageradio.com - or subscribe to the podcast.
Friday, December 22, 2006
I Was On the Radio On the Internets
Last night I was on the inaugural episode of Fist City, hosted by Elliott Kalan and Brock Mahan. You can listen to the show via streaming audio, or you can use the podcast xml to download the show to your iPod, or your Zune (Bill Gates only).
A note: Fist City is the second hour of a two hour block, the first hour being "The Rev Clempson Show, Featuring Rory Albanese." The whole show is well worth listening to (Jason Jones from the Daily Show is a guest on Rev Clempson). However, if you're a friend and/or relation and just want to skip to my guest spot, it's literally in the last five minutes of the show. Thus, since you can't skip ahead on the streaming version, I'd recommend that you download the MP3 via the podcast link, and use iTunes (or whatever) to skip ahead to the end.
A note: Fist City is the second hour of a two hour block, the first hour being "The Rev Clempson Show, Featuring Rory Albanese." The whole show is well worth listening to (Jason Jones from the Daily Show is a guest on Rev Clempson). However, if you're a friend and/or relation and just want to skip to my guest spot, it's literally in the last five minutes of the show. Thus, since you can't skip ahead on the streaming version, I'd recommend that you download the MP3 via the podcast link, and use iTunes (or whatever) to skip ahead to the end.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
I Will Be On the Radio On the Internets! Tonight!
Thanks to the miracle of streaming audio, the miracle of podcasts, or any other holiday miracle specifically dealing with the ability to hear stuff over the web, I can be heard tonight on the new show Fist City.
The show is hosted by my friends Elliott Kalan and Brock Mahan, whom you may remember from the just-ended Primetime Kalan (which I'm providing a link to, even though the final show recap was literally the post just preceding this one. Scroll bar be damned!). I'll be providing a guest essay on the first show, and will hopefully pop up from time to time thereafter, whenever they're desperate to fill airtime. I will, naturally, keep you posted.
Anyway, as always, when I'm involved in an Elliott project, I'll let him do all the promoting for me. What says he?...
--
Hello Kalan and Mahan fans,
Remember how much fun it used to be to see ELLIOTT KALAN (Metro columnist, Daily Show Segment Producer, and former host of "The Primetime Kalan") and BROCK MAHAN (TV writer and former host of "Top O' the Mahan To You") perform live onstage? And remember how unfun it used to be to actually travel to the theater they were performing in?
Well remember no more! Now, thanks to the magic of "internet radio", Brock and Elliott will appear LIVE in your house, TONIGHT!
No, we aren't breaking and entering using a magical computer device. We're performing a weekly radio humor show of sketches, bits, jokes, jackanapes, interviews, and an ongoing dramatic serial about pirates. The show's name? "FIST CITY"
"FIST CITY" will be streaming live at www.eastvillageradio.com , tonight and every Thursday night at 9pm . Can't be there for the broadcast? That's no excuse! Every episode will be available to podcast, through your regular old-fashioned iTunes, right after the show! Talk about convenience! You literally have no excuse not to listen to this show!
FIST CITY - 1st episode! Tonight! Thursday night at 9pm!
By the way, the show's the second half of a two hour block, the first hour being "The Rev. Clempson Show."
The show is hosted by my friends Elliott Kalan and Brock Mahan, whom you may remember from the just-ended Primetime Kalan (which I'm providing a link to, even though the final show recap was literally the post just preceding this one. Scroll bar be damned!). I'll be providing a guest essay on the first show, and will hopefully pop up from time to time thereafter, whenever they're desperate to fill airtime. I will, naturally, keep you posted.
Anyway, as always, when I'm involved in an Elliott project, I'll let him do all the promoting for me. What says he?...
--
Hello Kalan and Mahan fans,
Remember how much fun it used to be to see ELLIOTT KALAN (Metro columnist, Daily Show Segment Producer, and former host of "The Primetime Kalan") and BROCK MAHAN (TV writer and former host of "Top O' the Mahan To You") perform live onstage? And remember how unfun it used to be to actually travel to the theater they were performing in?
Well remember no more! Now, thanks to the magic of "internet radio", Brock and Elliott will appear LIVE in your house, TONIGHT!
No, we aren't breaking and entering using a magical computer device. We're performing a weekly radio humor show of sketches, bits, jokes, jackanapes, interviews, and an ongoing dramatic serial about pirates. The show's name? "FIST CITY"
"FIST CITY" will be streaming live at www.eastvillageradio.com , tonight and every Thursday night at 9pm . Can't be there for the broadcast? That's no excuse! Every episode will be available to podcast, through your regular old-fashioned iTunes, right after the show! Talk about convenience! You literally have no excuse not to listen to this show!
FIST CITY - 1st episode! Tonight! Thursday night at 9pm!
By the way, the show's the second half of a two hour block, the first hour being "The Rev. Clempson Show."
Monday, December 18, 2006
The Primetime Kalan: THE FINAL EPISODE Recap
The final Primetime Kalan was this Saturday past, and I think the occasion warrants a show synopsis.
The audience took their seats to a DVD of the world's worst cartoons, projected on the back wall, and once the (sell out) crowd was settled, things got rolling. Elliott got up and did his monologue, about his recent 25th birthday, and thathis newfound adulthood sadly means that he'll never acquire the label "child prodigy." However, it's the perfect time for a retrospective, so he introduced that evening's show "A Celebration of 25 Years of Kalan."
To help explain why this anniversary show was also the final show, Elliott brought me up to interview him. After some tension, resulting from my no-holds-barred, hardball style (I quizzed him about why he was putting me out of work), he explained that he wanted to end things now so he could go out on top. I disputed his position that doing a show in the basement of an East Village bar was, in fact, going out on top, but Elliott remained unswayed. To my query as to why he refused to sell me the name for $10,000, so I could do "The Primetime McCoy," he said that he felt a spin-off would "weaken the brand," and that it wouldn't serve the core goal of "getting the Kalan name out there." He was firm in his decision to retire to his mansion, play tennis, and contribute the occasional joke to Letterman. When I asked to visit the mansion, he said no.
We then had a video from former Primetime Kalan director (and current assistant on the Flava Flav dating show Flava of Love), Joe Guercio. He wished Elliott a happy birthday, while casually knocking over several videotapes.
This was followed by an audio greeting from Brock Mahan, Elliott's longtime writing partner. He gave Elliott a touching testimonial, taking time out from his busy life of berating a Hawaiian desk clerk for not properly booking the Aloha Suite for himself and "LonelyHousewife69."
It was then time for a look back at Elliott's turbulent life and times. A video montage of scenes from the 80's gave way to the 90's, and then to black and white cartoons and footage of the 1936 Olympics. Finally, the scene shifted to the shooting of JFK, and the eternal flame, ending with a picture of Elliott and the caption "Elliott Kalan, 1981-2006." Elliott objected that the video made it seem like he'd died, but Erik assured him that it was just "in memory" of all the entertainment he's provided, specifically between the years of '81 and '06.
Erik went on to say that there were a few memorial notices from companies whose products Elliott had consumed while alive. Goldfish Crackers sent a notice recognizing Elliott life, and spoke of plans for limited edition Elliott-flavored crackers, "in the shape of all of Elliott's favorite things," including Spider-Man, Frankenstein's monster, and soft-core Cinemax porn. Coca-Cola also sent condolences, quoting Elliott's interview in "Beverage Aficianado Magazine," in which he'd stated his desire to be buried in a casket filled with Coke, and"slowly dissolve into his favorite drink." They also sent a complimentary bottle of Coca-Cola Blak. Lastly, the makers of black t-shirts sent a message saying that "When Elliott stopped wearing black t-shirts with old horror movie posters on them, tucked into black jeans, it stopped being cool."
Then The Daily Show's John Oliver got on stage, to deliver Elliott's eulogy, over Elliott's repeated protests that he was, in fact, still alive ("Please Elliott, this is going to be emotional enough as it is, without you standing there talking.") Oliver spoke about how difficult it was to lose such a man in the same week that we lost Augusto Pinochet, continuing about the parallels between them. He had the audience play a game, in which he invited them to guess whether a given quote was from Kalan or Pinochet. (Surprisingly, "Where's my Woody Allen boxed set" was from Pinochet.) He discussed rumors that Elliott had done marvelous things like invent a new vowel, one that will now be lost to linguistic history. Summing up, he stated that he would always remember Elliott as "A man I met recently, knew for a short bit, and then died."
I had to duck out for holiday-related reasons at this point, but I know that Daily Show writer Scott Jacobson showed up to sing a heartfelt song.
Also, Elliott's son memorialized him, remembering the time his father took an unpaid internship at Dean Witter to become a stockbroker and support his family. "When I felt him hold me in his strong black arms," he said, "and felt his moustache bristling against my forehead, I knew everything would be all right." Elliott was touched, until he realized that it wasn't actually his son, just a guy reading the plot to the hit Will Smith vehicle, The Pursuit of Happyness. Revealed as actor Eric Zuckerman-- best known as "Doomsday Guy" from Stephen Spielberg's War of the Worlds, Eric announced that he would be signing autographs after the show for $5.
Then the show wrapped up with Elliott's traditional Ramble/ Rambo Room and Doogie Howser Computer Journal segments. A fitting end to an always goofy, sometimes great, often poorly-attended show.
However, cry not, because I expect to continue to work with Elliott (pretend estrangement notwithstanding). In fact, I will be appearing on his new East Village Radio show "Fist City" this Thursday the 21st at 9 PM - hopefully just the first of many appearances, that is, unless he gets too big for me, because... (important news to follow in the next paragraph)
...He's gotten a promotion. He's now not a mere Associate Segment Producer on The Daily Show, but a Segment Producer on The Daily Show. Thus, in between buying me drinks and lighting up imported cigars with $100 bills, he can call himself a television producer without the slight twinge of semantic guilt he felt in the past. Congratulations, Elliott! And Happy Birthday!
Elliott Kalan: 1981 - 2006
The audience took their seats to a DVD of the world's worst cartoons, projected on the back wall, and once the (sell out) crowd was settled, things got rolling. Elliott got up and did his monologue, about his recent 25th birthday, and thathis newfound adulthood sadly means that he'll never acquire the label "child prodigy." However, it's the perfect time for a retrospective, so he introduced that evening's show "A Celebration of 25 Years of Kalan."
To help explain why this anniversary show was also the final show, Elliott brought me up to interview him. After some tension, resulting from my no-holds-barred, hardball style (I quizzed him about why he was putting me out of work), he explained that he wanted to end things now so he could go out on top. I disputed his position that doing a show in the basement of an East Village bar was, in fact, going out on top, but Elliott remained unswayed. To my query as to why he refused to sell me the name for $10,000, so I could do "The Primetime McCoy," he said that he felt a spin-off would "weaken the brand," and that it wouldn't serve the core goal of "getting the Kalan name out there." He was firm in his decision to retire to his mansion, play tennis, and contribute the occasional joke to Letterman. When I asked to visit the mansion, he said no.
We then had a video from former Primetime Kalan director (and current assistant on the Flava Flav dating show Flava of Love), Joe Guercio. He wished Elliott a happy birthday, while casually knocking over several videotapes.
This was followed by an audio greeting from Brock Mahan, Elliott's longtime writing partner. He gave Elliott a touching testimonial, taking time out from his busy life of berating a Hawaiian desk clerk for not properly booking the Aloha Suite for himself and "LonelyHousewife69."
It was then time for a look back at Elliott's turbulent life and times. A video montage of scenes from the 80's gave way to the 90's, and then to black and white cartoons and footage of the 1936 Olympics. Finally, the scene shifted to the shooting of JFK, and the eternal flame, ending with a picture of Elliott and the caption "Elliott Kalan, 1981-2006." Elliott objected that the video made it seem like he'd died, but Erik assured him that it was just "in memory" of all the entertainment he's provided, specifically between the years of '81 and '06.
Erik went on to say that there were a few memorial notices from companies whose products Elliott had consumed while alive. Goldfish Crackers sent a notice recognizing Elliott life, and spoke of plans for limited edition Elliott-flavored crackers, "in the shape of all of Elliott's favorite things," including Spider-Man, Frankenstein's monster, and soft-core Cinemax porn. Coca-Cola also sent condolences, quoting Elliott's interview in "Beverage Aficianado Magazine," in which he'd stated his desire to be buried in a casket filled with Coke, and"slowly dissolve into his favorite drink." They also sent a complimentary bottle of Coca-Cola Blak. Lastly, the makers of black t-shirts sent a message saying that "When Elliott stopped wearing black t-shirts with old horror movie posters on them, tucked into black jeans, it stopped being cool."
Then The Daily Show's John Oliver got on stage, to deliver Elliott's eulogy, over Elliott's repeated protests that he was, in fact, still alive ("Please Elliott, this is going to be emotional enough as it is, without you standing there talking.") Oliver spoke about how difficult it was to lose such a man in the same week that we lost Augusto Pinochet, continuing about the parallels between them. He had the audience play a game, in which he invited them to guess whether a given quote was from Kalan or Pinochet. (Surprisingly, "Where's my Woody Allen boxed set" was from Pinochet.) He discussed rumors that Elliott had done marvelous things like invent a new vowel, one that will now be lost to linguistic history. Summing up, he stated that he would always remember Elliott as "A man I met recently, knew for a short bit, and then died."
I had to duck out for holiday-related reasons at this point, but I know that Daily Show writer Scott Jacobson showed up to sing a heartfelt song.
Also, Elliott's son memorialized him, remembering the time his father took an unpaid internship at Dean Witter to become a stockbroker and support his family. "When I felt him hold me in his strong black arms," he said, "and felt his moustache bristling against my forehead, I knew everything would be all right." Elliott was touched, until he realized that it wasn't actually his son, just a guy reading the plot to the hit Will Smith vehicle, The Pursuit of Happyness. Revealed as actor Eric Zuckerman-- best known as "Doomsday Guy" from Stephen Spielberg's War of the Worlds, Eric announced that he would be signing autographs after the show for $5.
Then the show wrapped up with Elliott's traditional Ramble/ Rambo Room and Doogie Howser Computer Journal segments. A fitting end to an always goofy, sometimes great, often poorly-attended show.
However, cry not, because I expect to continue to work with Elliott (pretend estrangement notwithstanding). In fact, I will be appearing on his new East Village Radio show "Fist City" this Thursday the 21st at 9 PM - hopefully just the first of many appearances, that is, unless he gets too big for me, because... (important news to follow in the next paragraph)
...He's gotten a promotion. He's now not a mere Associate Segment Producer on The Daily Show, but a Segment Producer on The Daily Show. Thus, in between buying me drinks and lighting up imported cigars with $100 bills, he can call himself a television producer without the slight twinge of semantic guilt he felt in the past. Congratulations, Elliott! And Happy Birthday!
Elliott Kalan: 1981 - 2006
Recycling Center: Rejected Jokes Edition
Here comes Santa Claus...
According to a new study, fewer than 1 in 5 Americans have "a great deal" of trust in President Bush to "recommend the right thing" for the US to do in Iraq. Slightly more trusted: Amazon.com's recommendations for Iraq.
Mattel said that sales of Barbies this year are up for the first time in several years, with one poll listing Barbie as the top toy for girls this season. Selling particularly well: Britney Spears and Paris Hilton's Bi-Curious Barbie Fun Set.
On Sunday Reverend Paul Barnes, the pastor of a Denver mega-church, resigned after confessing to having sex with men, saying that he had often cried himself to sleep, begging God to end his attraction to men. Thankfully, men weren't attracted to him, since he often cried himself to sleep.
While plans to sell OJ Simpson's book, If I Did It, were scrapped, copies have appeared for sale online for as much as 5500 dollars- although I can tell you how he did it for free. With a knife.
Nintendo's new video game system, the Wii, is causing problems for players who have accidentally thrown the remote control style wand-joystick into televisions, windows, and their own faces. And there's nothing more unpleasant than getting a little Wii in your face.
Martha Stewart will appear on Howard Stern's satellite radio show Thursday, to teach the audience how to knit nipple cozies.
The Marine Corp on Tuesday stopped a Sergeant from changing his name at the behest of the highest bidder on his Web site, ChooseMyName.com, although they've so far done nothing about President Bush's site, ChooseMyIraqStrategy.com.
Federal health officials said Wednesday that lettuce was the most likely source of an outbreak of E. Coli linked to Taco Bell. I'll repeat that: the least healthy thing at a Taco Bell was the lettuce.
It was reported that Kevin Federline is prepared to write a tell-all book about Britney Spears that could include details about her wild drinking, alleged drug-use, her sexual attraction towards other women, as well as her supposed belief in time-travel. But not if FUTURE BRITNEY has anything to say about it!
According to a new study, fewer than 1 in 5 Americans have "a great deal" of trust in President Bush to "recommend the right thing" for the US to do in Iraq. Slightly more trusted: Amazon.com's recommendations for Iraq.
Mattel said that sales of Barbies this year are up for the first time in several years, with one poll listing Barbie as the top toy for girls this season. Selling particularly well: Britney Spears and Paris Hilton's Bi-Curious Barbie Fun Set.
On Sunday Reverend Paul Barnes, the pastor of a Denver mega-church, resigned after confessing to having sex with men, saying that he had often cried himself to sleep, begging God to end his attraction to men. Thankfully, men weren't attracted to him, since he often cried himself to sleep.
While plans to sell OJ Simpson's book, If I Did It, were scrapped, copies have appeared for sale online for as much as 5500 dollars- although I can tell you how he did it for free. With a knife.
Nintendo's new video game system, the Wii, is causing problems for players who have accidentally thrown the remote control style wand-joystick into televisions, windows, and their own faces. And there's nothing more unpleasant than getting a little Wii in your face.
Martha Stewart will appear on Howard Stern's satellite radio show Thursday, to teach the audience how to knit nipple cozies.
The Marine Corp on Tuesday stopped a Sergeant from changing his name at the behest of the highest bidder on his Web site, ChooseMyName.com, although they've so far done nothing about President Bush's site, ChooseMyIraqStrategy.com.
Federal health officials said Wednesday that lettuce was the most likely source of an outbreak of E. Coli linked to Taco Bell. I'll repeat that: the least healthy thing at a Taco Bell was the lettuce.
It was reported that Kevin Federline is prepared to write a tell-all book about Britney Spears that could include details about her wild drinking, alleged drug-use, her sexual attraction towards other women, as well as her supposed belief in time-travel. But not if FUTURE BRITNEY has anything to say about it!
Thursday, December 14, 2006
In Which I Discourse Upon Several Forgotten Comedy Teams
Although the early years of vaudeville spawned numerous popular comedy teams, such as The Marx Brothers, Gallagher and Sheen, Abbot and Costello, and the Three Stooges, the work of many other teams has been lost to the sands of time. Whether it was because their particular schtick couldn't make the transition to the mass media of radio, the moving pictures, or television; or because their material was simply ill-concieved from the start, these unsung funnymen from a bygone age have since been forgotten. But as relics of a theatrical comedy tradition that is no longer with us, they deserve a closer look.
Drinky McIrishman and the Tuneful Lush
Capitalizing on America's hatred and fear of the Irishman in the early part of the century, this team seemed destined for stardom. Drinky would tell a series of of off-color jokes, primarily regarding the insertion of potatoes into various parts of a woman's anatomy, while the Tuneful Lush accompanied him with sentimental Irish ballads on the musical saw. Although booked on all the largest vaudeville circuits, two factors eventually spelled their demise: the first being McIrishman's "method" approach to his role, wherin to convincingly portray an Irishman he felt the need to imbibe a fifth of whiskey every time he took the stage. This theatrical affectation eventually grew into a real-life case of crippling alcoholism, causing him to slur his punchlines-- never more so than during the vocally challenging final moments of the "Catholic Delivery Room" sketch. Secondly, the team failed to adjust their routine for heavily Irish venues, such as New York's Shamrock Music Hall. It was at this venue that a team of pugalistic young Irish lads forceably took the stage, and administered a severe beating, which collapsed the Tuneful Lush's trachea, and ruptured McIrishman's booze-swollen liver.
Asa "Shecky" Jablomowitz & Eli "Shecky" Lindt AKA "The Two Sheckys"
Fast friends from their youth, when they were forced to share a bathroom and three fifths of a radiator, in a tenament in Brooklyn, The Two Sheckys decided to form a comedy team soley on the basis of having a shared nickname (also a condition of their lease). Despite this remarkable confluence of circumstances, the one thing TheTwo Sheckys did not share was a coherent comic outlook. Shecky J. engaged in madcap slapstick, especially in an elaborate routine in which he repeatedly milked a goat onstage, every time accidentally spilling the fresh, unpasteurized liquid down the blouse of their chorus girl assistant ("The Mammarian Milkmaid"). Whereas Shecky L. preferred to make wry political comments about William Jennings Bryan, often while embroidering. Perhaps this disjunction in their styles might still have worked, if either one had been willing to cede the spotlight. Instead, both would perform their act seperately, but simultaneously. The effect was more cacophonous and confusing, than it was comical. Shecky J. died in 1931, followed by Shecky L. who, in an amazing effort to upstage him, managed to die in 1930.
Baron Von Highbottom and The Accountant
Although thrilling conceptually, Baron Von Highbottom and The Accountant was a disappointment comically, as its central conceit (a comedy duo made up of two straight men) added up to few larfs. A typical scene unravelled thusly:
BARON
I am leaving this priceless ming vase here on this awfully rickety shelf. Please do not attempt to dust it or to use it as a spittoon.
ACCOUNTANT
Don't worry. I shall be over here going over your reciepts at length. I doubt I'll have the time or desire to molest said vase.
BARON
Well that's settled then.
ACCOUNTANT
By the way, whom was that lady I saw you with?
BARON
I assume it was the Baroness. Good day.
(The Baron EXITS. The accountant goes over his reciepts at length.)
Despite being a colossal failure as entertainment, Baron Von Highbottom and The Accountant's act had the distinction of being extremely long, which theater owners liked, as it gave them the means to pad an evening's program of entertainment. They
performed regularly until 1928, when the Accountant died onstage. No-one noticed.
Nutsy and the Rabbi
Although Hitler's facial hair didn't harm Charlie Chaplin's career, it did destroy that of the similarly mustacheoed "Nutsy" of Nutsy and the Rabbi fame. His name, lip-tickler, and famously comical "Duck Walk" all took on a sinister edge with the advent of WWII. Soon thereafter, "The Rabbi" decided to leave the team for personal reasons. After that, Nutsy took on a series of ill-chosen sidekicks including the imposing "Joey the Aryan." In a comical mix-up worthy of one of his routines, Nutsy ended up being accidentally tried at Nuremberg during a theatrical tour of Europe. He was swiftly put to death in 1949, but his legacy lives on!
The Hatfield Cousin-Brothers
This Appalachian comedy team's family tree was so tangled and incestuous, that in the interest of accuracy, their name required a hyphen. Audiences at the time were put off by their pale skin and birth defects, such that their astute social satire was completely ignored (although much of it found its way, via shameless plagiarism, into the New Yorker columns of James Thurber).
Drinky McIrishman and the Tuneful Lush
Capitalizing on America's hatred and fear of the Irishman in the early part of the century, this team seemed destined for stardom. Drinky would tell a series of of off-color jokes, primarily regarding the insertion of potatoes into various parts of a woman's anatomy, while the Tuneful Lush accompanied him with sentimental Irish ballads on the musical saw. Although booked on all the largest vaudeville circuits, two factors eventually spelled their demise: the first being McIrishman's "method" approach to his role, wherin to convincingly portray an Irishman he felt the need to imbibe a fifth of whiskey every time he took the stage. This theatrical affectation eventually grew into a real-life case of crippling alcoholism, causing him to slur his punchlines-- never more so than during the vocally challenging final moments of the "Catholic Delivery Room" sketch. Secondly, the team failed to adjust their routine for heavily Irish venues, such as New York's Shamrock Music Hall. It was at this venue that a team of pugalistic young Irish lads forceably took the stage, and administered a severe beating, which collapsed the Tuneful Lush's trachea, and ruptured McIrishman's booze-swollen liver.
Asa "Shecky" Jablomowitz & Eli "Shecky" Lindt AKA "The Two Sheckys"
Fast friends from their youth, when they were forced to share a bathroom and three fifths of a radiator, in a tenament in Brooklyn, The Two Sheckys decided to form a comedy team soley on the basis of having a shared nickname (also a condition of their lease). Despite this remarkable confluence of circumstances, the one thing TheTwo Sheckys did not share was a coherent comic outlook. Shecky J. engaged in madcap slapstick, especially in an elaborate routine in which he repeatedly milked a goat onstage, every time accidentally spilling the fresh, unpasteurized liquid down the blouse of their chorus girl assistant ("The Mammarian Milkmaid"). Whereas Shecky L. preferred to make wry political comments about William Jennings Bryan, often while embroidering. Perhaps this disjunction in their styles might still have worked, if either one had been willing to cede the spotlight. Instead, both would perform their act seperately, but simultaneously. The effect was more cacophonous and confusing, than it was comical. Shecky J. died in 1931, followed by Shecky L. who, in an amazing effort to upstage him, managed to die in 1930.
Baron Von Highbottom and The Accountant
Although thrilling conceptually, Baron Von Highbottom and The Accountant was a disappointment comically, as its central conceit (a comedy duo made up of two straight men) added up to few larfs. A typical scene unravelled thusly:
BARON
I am leaving this priceless ming vase here on this awfully rickety shelf. Please do not attempt to dust it or to use it as a spittoon.
ACCOUNTANT
Don't worry. I shall be over here going over your reciepts at length. I doubt I'll have the time or desire to molest said vase.
BARON
Well that's settled then.
ACCOUNTANT
By the way, whom was that lady I saw you with?
BARON
I assume it was the Baroness. Good day.
(The Baron EXITS. The accountant goes over his reciepts at length.)
Despite being a colossal failure as entertainment, Baron Von Highbottom and The Accountant's act had the distinction of being extremely long, which theater owners liked, as it gave them the means to pad an evening's program of entertainment. They
performed regularly until 1928, when the Accountant died onstage. No-one noticed.
Nutsy and the Rabbi
Although Hitler's facial hair didn't harm Charlie Chaplin's career, it did destroy that of the similarly mustacheoed "Nutsy" of Nutsy and the Rabbi fame. His name, lip-tickler, and famously comical "Duck Walk" all took on a sinister edge with the advent of WWII. Soon thereafter, "The Rabbi" decided to leave the team for personal reasons. After that, Nutsy took on a series of ill-chosen sidekicks including the imposing "Joey the Aryan." In a comical mix-up worthy of one of his routines, Nutsy ended up being accidentally tried at Nuremberg during a theatrical tour of Europe. He was swiftly put to death in 1949, but his legacy lives on!
The Hatfield Cousin-Brothers
This Appalachian comedy team's family tree was so tangled and incestuous, that in the interest of accuracy, their name required a hyphen. Audiences at the time were put off by their pale skin and birth defects, such that their astute social satire was completely ignored (although much of it found its way, via shameless plagiarism, into the New Yorker columns of James Thurber).
Monday, December 11, 2006
Recycling Center: Rejected Jokes Edition
Yeah!
Actor Rip Torn was arrested Monday in New York on charges of drunk driving, resulting in the world's most confusing headline: "Smashed Joy Ride Rip Torn Nicked."
Officials at Yahoo.com said that the most requested searches of 2006 were the Yankees, Britney Spears, and Suri Cruise. The least requested search? "Howie Mandel erotica."
The Conservative branch of Judaism voted this week to accept gay rabbis for the first time. Or, as they put it, "What's the big tsimmes about a guy who likes schlong?"
The White House said Monday that, because he was unable to win Senate confirmation, UN Ambassador John Bolton will step down when his temporary appointment expires within weeks, in a sad day for human walruses everywhere.
The Iraq Study Group formally presented their report, entitled "The Way Forward, A New Approach" on Wednesday to President Bush. Although, to get him to read it, they just called it "Highlights For Kids."
A 2 month-old baby girl in Colorado was in good condition Monday after being hospitalized with a blood-alcohol level more than four times the legal limit for an adult driver. Officials suspect the cause was a bottle of Danny DeVito Brand Baby Formula.
Broadway actor James Barbour, who once played The Beast in Beauty and the Beast, was arraigned this week on charges that he fondled an underage girl backstage in 2001--both a little scared, schoolgirl unprepared, booty groped by beast.
World chess champion Vladimir Kramnik lost his final game in a match against computer program Deep Fritz. Kramnik attributes his loss to underestimating his opponent, mistakenly believing it to be gay German porn.
Paris Hilton has said that after hanging around with Britney Spears and her two children, she wants children of her own adding, "I look after animals, so I'd have a lot to give my kids." Including, presumably, several blood-borne STDs.
Actor Rip Torn was arrested Monday in New York on charges of drunk driving, resulting in the world's most confusing headline: "Smashed Joy Ride Rip Torn Nicked."
Officials at Yahoo.com said that the most requested searches of 2006 were the Yankees, Britney Spears, and Suri Cruise. The least requested search? "Howie Mandel erotica."
The Conservative branch of Judaism voted this week to accept gay rabbis for the first time. Or, as they put it, "What's the big tsimmes about a guy who likes schlong?"
The White House said Monday that, because he was unable to win Senate confirmation, UN Ambassador John Bolton will step down when his temporary appointment expires within weeks, in a sad day for human walruses everywhere.
The Iraq Study Group formally presented their report, entitled "The Way Forward, A New Approach" on Wednesday to President Bush. Although, to get him to read it, they just called it "Highlights For Kids."
A 2 month-old baby girl in Colorado was in good condition Monday after being hospitalized with a blood-alcohol level more than four times the legal limit for an adult driver. Officials suspect the cause was a bottle of Danny DeVito Brand Baby Formula.
Broadway actor James Barbour, who once played The Beast in Beauty and the Beast, was arraigned this week on charges that he fondled an underage girl backstage in 2001--both a little scared, schoolgirl unprepared, booty groped by beast.
World chess champion Vladimir Kramnik lost his final game in a match against computer program Deep Fritz. Kramnik attributes his loss to underestimating his opponent, mistakenly believing it to be gay German porn.
Paris Hilton has said that after hanging around with Britney Spears and her two children, she wants children of her own adding, "I look after animals, so I'd have a lot to give my kids." Including, presumably, several blood-borne STDs.
Friday, December 08, 2006
I Am the Ted McGinley of Fake Talk Shows
Flashback to May of last year-- I join the writers/ cast of Sara Schaefer is Obsessed With You for the last 6 months of its two-year run. It's one of the more popular (at least, for the size of the venue) comedy shows in the city, and, although talk-show-format stage shows were certainly not a new idea, SSIOWY did it before it became the cliche it now seems to be.
During my time with the show, the success continues. We have one of our biggest guests in Lisa Loeb (and standing backstage listening to her perform "Stay" live, a song that I remember first seeing on MTV in high school, is still one of my most treasured NYC comedy memories). We get considered for the Aspen Comedy Festival, and, though we don't ultimately get called back, it's an honor to have been scouted.
And then the show ends shortly thereafter.
We go out in top form, with a final episode I'm very proud of. Sara goes on to a justly deserved job as a web-host for AOL Music's "The DL" (check it out, people). Fellow writer Amanda goes on to a justly deserved job writing for Greg Giraldo (although she's currently free--hire her, people!). Kara Lee departs for new horizons in L.A. And Patrick continues in his day job as Conan O'Brian's personal assistant. And I go on to...
The Primetime Kalan-- another live talk show, hosted by Daily Show associate producer Elliott Kalan. It was originally conceived as an unwritten midnight talk show. With the move to an earlier hour, Elliott decided to tighten things up with more pre-written bits, and kindly asked me to join. Much fun is had, particularly due to the never ending stream of Daily Show guests, courtesy of Elliott's delightfully shameless connection-pimping.
I stay with this show for about nine months of its two year run.
And it's ending. Next weekend.
Clearly, something is happening here. I am forced to come to the conclusion that I am the Ted McGinley of Fake Talk Shows-- Ted, of course, being "the patron saint of shark jumping." My presence apparently marks some sort of death knell for semi-successful basement-comedy-talk-programs. On the bright side, my staying power seems to be gradually increasing. When I join the cast of Late Night With Jon Kingman is Obsessed With Being Primetime, I may even make it a whole year before bumping the thing off.
"The McGin" -- just, you know, hangin'
On the other hand, perhaps I'm misreading the situation. Perhaps I am not the Ted McGinley of stage talk shows, but merely the Cousin Oliver-- perhaps I'm the guy brought on in a last ditch attempt to revitalize a slumping show by virtue of my adorableness and ability to bring in a wider audience. That audience being, specifically, my college friends who live in the NYC area. Hey, that extra 20 people is nothing to be sneezed at!
Either way, next time I hope to get paid.
During my time with the show, the success continues. We have one of our biggest guests in Lisa Loeb (and standing backstage listening to her perform "Stay" live, a song that I remember first seeing on MTV in high school, is still one of my most treasured NYC comedy memories). We get considered for the Aspen Comedy Festival, and, though we don't ultimately get called back, it's an honor to have been scouted.
And then the show ends shortly thereafter.
We go out in top form, with a final episode I'm very proud of. Sara goes on to a justly deserved job as a web-host for AOL Music's "The DL" (check it out, people). Fellow writer Amanda goes on to a justly deserved job writing for Greg Giraldo (although she's currently free--hire her, people!). Kara Lee departs for new horizons in L.A. And Patrick continues in his day job as Conan O'Brian's personal assistant. And I go on to...
The Primetime Kalan-- another live talk show, hosted by Daily Show associate producer Elliott Kalan. It was originally conceived as an unwritten midnight talk show. With the move to an earlier hour, Elliott decided to tighten things up with more pre-written bits, and kindly asked me to join. Much fun is had, particularly due to the never ending stream of Daily Show guests, courtesy of Elliott's delightfully shameless connection-pimping.
I stay with this show for about nine months of its two year run.
And it's ending. Next weekend.
Clearly, something is happening here. I am forced to come to the conclusion that I am the Ted McGinley of Fake Talk Shows-- Ted, of course, being "the patron saint of shark jumping." My presence apparently marks some sort of death knell for semi-successful basement-comedy-talk-programs. On the bright side, my staying power seems to be gradually increasing. When I join the cast of Late Night With Jon Kingman is Obsessed With Being Primetime, I may even make it a whole year before bumping the thing off.
"The McGin" -- just, you know, hangin'
On the other hand, perhaps I'm misreading the situation. Perhaps I am not the Ted McGinley of stage talk shows, but merely the Cousin Oliver-- perhaps I'm the guy brought on in a last ditch attempt to revitalize a slumping show by virtue of my adorableness and ability to bring in a wider audience. That audience being, specifically, my college friends who live in the NYC area. Hey, that extra 20 people is nothing to be sneezed at!
Either way, next time I hope to get paid.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Last Primetime Kalan EVER
From Elliott...
Hello, Kalan fans,
It is with a heavy heart that I, Elliott Kalan, in the guise of the omniscient narrator who writes these plugs, must announce that there is an all-new episode of THE PRIMETIME KALAN on Saturday, December 16th at 8:30pm. I see you're confused. I understand. A new PRIMETIME KALAN? This is an occasion for joy and celebration! Yes, usually it would be. But this you see....is THE LAST PRIMETIME KALAN!!!!
But don't be so glum! How else could we say goodbye to this fixture of the no-budget comedy scene, but with a 25th Anniversary Spectacular! The 25th Anniversary of Elliott Kalan's birth, that is! Be there as Elliott rings in adulthood, with special guests JOHN OLIVER ("The Daily Show"), SCOTT JACOBSON (writer, "The Daily Show"), and BROCK MAHAN (almost worked at "The Daily Show" once). Plus, farewells from some of your favorite Kalan show personalities.
You will tell your grandchildren you were at this show.
THE PRIMETIME KALAN - LAST EPISODE! - Saturday, December 16th, 8:30pm
@ Jimmy 43
43 East 7th street (btwn 2nd and 3rd Ave.)
Manhattan
Tix: $5
Monday, December 04, 2006
Recycling Center: Rejected Jokes Edition
I give all my loving to you...
It was reported that a sequel to the DaVinci Code is being readied. It's tentatively titled "Maybe Something Crazy is Going on with the Jews, Too."
Insiders say that the report by the Iraq Study Group will recommend dramatically increasing the number of US military officers embedded with Iraqi troops to accelerate training and get the US on a path toward leaving the country, although President Bush claims that they only formed that study group as a way to meet girls.
Former Seinfeld actor Michael Richards appeared on the Reverend Jesse Jackson's radio show Sunday to apologize once again for his racial outbursts at a comedy club last week... although he lost points when he assured listeners that he's "Master of his Plantation."
ABC's All My Children this week will introduce a transgender character who is making the transition from a man into a woman. Much like any men watching All My Children.
"The Nativity Story," a movie about Mary and Joseph before the birth of Christ, had its world premiere at the Vatican on Sunday and won strong praise from Tarcisio Cardinal Bertone, who is the "deputy Pope." Which is like when you get a thumbs up from the other guy, not Ebert.
More and more White House officials, US generals, and members of Congress are blaming the continued violence and destruction in Iraq on the Iraqis themselves, and their failure to rebuild their society. Also, did you see the way Iraq was dressed? It was totally asking for it.
A mental patient in Illinois has pleased guilty to threatening to castrate President Bush, but was released with time served, after the fall elections did it for him.
Friday, December 01, 2006
In Which I Introduce a New Character for Your Mild Amusement
MASTER OF CEREMONIES
Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome-- Jasper: The Comedian With the Poorly-Thought-Out Material!
(Applause. Jasper takes the stage. Long silence.)
JASPER
Um... Cauliflower. That would be a good word to use in a joke. Possibly a joke about calling... uh... a flower.
"Indiana Jones and the Pimple of Doom."
(beat)
Would be a... a good MAD Magazine parody. Back in 1984.
I'd hate to have Tom Wolfe's dry cleaning bills. What with all the... white suits.
I went to a bemusement park the other day. At least I think I did.
So... that Quentin Tarantino sure likes nostalgia, huh? What's he going to do next? A show called H.R. Bloodnstuff? Or something?
(Silence.)
Socks!
MASTER OF CEREMONIES
Jasper, everyone! Jasper: The Comedian With the Poorly-Thought-Out Material!
Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome-- Jasper: The Comedian With the Poorly-Thought-Out Material!
(Applause. Jasper takes the stage. Long silence.)
JASPER
Um... Cauliflower. That would be a good word to use in a joke. Possibly a joke about calling... uh... a flower.
"Indiana Jones and the Pimple of Doom."
(beat)
Would be a... a good MAD Magazine parody. Back in 1984.
I'd hate to have Tom Wolfe's dry cleaning bills. What with all the... white suits.
I went to a bemusement park the other day. At least I think I did.
So... that Quentin Tarantino sure likes nostalgia, huh? What's he going to do next? A show called H.R. Bloodnstuff? Or something?
(Silence.)
Socks!
MASTER OF CEREMONIES
Jasper, everyone! Jasper: The Comedian With the Poorly-Thought-Out Material!
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
In Which I Offer Some Important Thanksgiving Safety Tips
As every New Yorker knows, Thanksgiving marks the invasion of Manhattan by giant cartoon characters. Safely confined within our newspaper pages and television screens at all other times, these monstrous creatures are, in a Faustian bargain, allowed to run wild in our largest city once a year.If you are one of the unlucky residents who did not win a plane ticket out of the city in the annual lottery, you may find the following survival hints helpful this holiday weekend.
Snoopy has a beagle's enhanced sense of smell, which he will use to track you down, and crush you between his powerful jaws. To throw him off the scent, rub yourself with aniseed and Axe Body Spray.
Spongebob's powers are derived from his square pants. If you are able to trick him into wearing regular, pants-shaped pants, his magical spell will be broken, and you will be allowed to keep your first-born child.
Super Grover: As long as you don't mention that usurper Elmo, SG is cool with you.
Garfield's legendary appetite is only enhanced by his giant size, and a visit from this cat is nearly always deadly -- thus proving the old adage, "There's nothing funny about Garfield."
Clifford the Big Red Dog: If you publicly pronounce your allegiance to the Communist Party, Clifford will spare your life.
Pikachu: You can only defeat Pikachu by creating a Poké Balls to increase your Special Attacks and Special Defenses, via your protective Bulbasaur and Fuckamander or some shit like that.
Barney loves you. This makes him easy to kill.
Also, if you live between 77th and 34th on Central Park West or Broadway, just make sure you've got plenty of plastic sheets and duct tape over the windows, and you should be safe.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Monday, November 20, 2006
Captains, Live! (Redux)
We will be showing the most recent two episodes of Captains in Space (a.k.a. the ones that I wrote) at Manhattan Comedy Collective's "Turkey Shorts" film festival this Wednesday at 8, at Jimmy's No. 43, an East Village bar and restaurant. Tickets are $7. I will be on hand, along with Captain Fed and Captain Adam, to introduce the episodes.
Featuring other short films by Central Park West Studios, Jessica Delfino, Brent Hankins and The Average Joe Cooking Show. Stop by Jimmy's for the best in short comedies, and have a Thanksgiving feast of free popcorn.
Featuring other short films by Central Park West Studios, Jessica Delfino, Brent Hankins and The Average Joe Cooking Show. Stop by Jimmy's for the best in short comedies, and have a Thanksgiving feast of free popcorn.
Recycling Center: Rejected Jokes Edition
Laugh it up, fuzzball...
It was reported that ABC News anchor Elizabeth Vargas is upset with an upcoming Marie Claire magazine article that features a doctored photo of her breast-feeding her son on air. She has maids to do that sort of thing.
A California toy company that sells Bible-quoting Jesus dolls said that it is surprised and disappointed that the Marine Reserves' Toys for Tots program turned down its offer to donate 4000 of the talking dolls. Their main objection was that one of the pre-recorded phrases was “Blessed are the Ken dolls, for they get to make it with Barbie.”
An official with the American Philatelic Society said that a stamp thought to be a rare 1918 Inverted Jenny, used by a Florida voter to mail an absentee ballot last week, is probably a fake. And thus ends this decade’s only news story involving the American Philatelic Society.
The largest Baptist group in North Carolina, moved this week to expel any congregation that condones homosexuality, while the Presbyterian Church will put on minister on trial for conducting a marriage ceremony for two men. If convicted, he could be sentenced to Unitarianism.
On an episode of the Tyra Banks show this week, both she and the audience wore just their underwear for a "Panty Party" show, despite the fact that a similar episode of Judge Judy was the lowest-rated ever.
More than 800 people around the world have signed up to be part of the New York-based "Corduroy Appreciation Club," which meets every November 11th, which when written as 11/11, resembles the fabric they love… or it does if you’re a member of some totally crazy club.
Matthew Fisher is suing his former Procul Harum bandmate Gary Brooker, claiming that he is owed royalties from the 1967 song "Whiter Shade of Pale,” and alleging, furthermore, that his harum wasn’t procul enough.
Grey's Anatomy star Ellen Pompeo got engaged this week to record producer Chris Ivery, telling reporters, “I’m so happy I can barely squint.”
It was reported that ABC News anchor Elizabeth Vargas is upset with an upcoming Marie Claire magazine article that features a doctored photo of her breast-feeding her son on air. She has maids to do that sort of thing.
A California toy company that sells Bible-quoting Jesus dolls said that it is surprised and disappointed that the Marine Reserves' Toys for Tots program turned down its offer to donate 4000 of the talking dolls. Their main objection was that one of the pre-recorded phrases was “Blessed are the Ken dolls, for they get to make it with Barbie.”
An official with the American Philatelic Society said that a stamp thought to be a rare 1918 Inverted Jenny, used by a Florida voter to mail an absentee ballot last week, is probably a fake. And thus ends this decade’s only news story involving the American Philatelic Society.
The largest Baptist group in North Carolina, moved this week to expel any congregation that condones homosexuality, while the Presbyterian Church will put on minister on trial for conducting a marriage ceremony for two men. If convicted, he could be sentenced to Unitarianism.
On an episode of the Tyra Banks show this week, both she and the audience wore just their underwear for a "Panty Party" show, despite the fact that a similar episode of Judge Judy was the lowest-rated ever.
More than 800 people around the world have signed up to be part of the New York-based "Corduroy Appreciation Club," which meets every November 11th, which when written as 11/11, resembles the fabric they love… or it does if you’re a member of some totally crazy club.
Matthew Fisher is suing his former Procul Harum bandmate Gary Brooker, claiming that he is owed royalties from the 1967 song "Whiter Shade of Pale,” and alleging, furthermore, that his harum wasn’t procul enough.
Grey's Anatomy star Ellen Pompeo got engaged this week to record producer Chris Ivery, telling reporters, “I’m so happy I can barely squint.”
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
So Many Memories: Part Two
Here's the second part of my photo retrospective of comedy shows from the last few months (pictures courtesy of my wife). This time, we focus on Zombira's Scaretaculous Halloween Horrortacular (you can find the full text of a couple of the sketches here).
Rival candy-poisoner Regine (Liz Lord) critiques my crazy old man candy-poisoning technique.
My religious powers are called upon, to defeat the devil child Rob Bates.
I am distracted in my mission by the hot mom of the Antichrist (Lindsay Joy).
My co-biosphere inhabitant Gustav (George Basil) explains that, being in a self contained environment thousands of miles from civilization, we will likely be getting no trick-or-treaters.
Schoolgirls (Autumn Clark, Lindsay, and Liz) argue over whose night it is to be slutty, while Slutty Cat (Stacy Mayer) looks on.
I am attacked by a giant praying mantis. Tragically, I did not survive.
Rival candy-poisoner Regine (Liz Lord) critiques my crazy old man candy-poisoning technique.
My religious powers are called upon, to defeat the devil child Rob Bates.
I am distracted in my mission by the hot mom of the Antichrist (Lindsay Joy).
My co-biosphere inhabitant Gustav (George Basil) explains that, being in a self contained environment thousands of miles from civilization, we will likely be getting no trick-or-treaters.
Schoolgirls (Autumn Clark, Lindsay, and Liz) argue over whose night it is to be slutty, while Slutty Cat (Stacy Mayer) looks on.
I am attacked by a giant praying mantis. Tragically, I did not survive.
Monday, November 13, 2006
Recycling Center: Rejected Jokes Edition
Let's get retarded in here...
Former N Sync member Lance Bass has inspired a new term for gay celebrities who are outed by the media, which is called being "lanced." It thankfully beat out the alternative term, "being done Doogie-style."
Police in Michigan arrested a man for murder after his girlfriend told them that during a party game in which people name the stupidest thing they had ever done, her boyfriend answered, "Shot a guy in the head." He then corrected himself, saying "Wait, wait -- confessed to murder during a party game!"
Police in Arizona reported that a 40-foot trailer containing thousands of wedding gowns worth an estimated 3 million dollars was stolen form a charity that grants the dying wishes of women with breast cancer—surely the saddest story to ever be an Oprah wet dream.
A woman in London was sentenced to seven years in prison on Monday for keeping her sister-in-law as a domestic slave, forcing her to do housework naked and beating her. Her story will be told in the Lifetime Original Movie "My Sister My Nude Slave: The Just Dirty Enough to Get Men to Watch Lifetime Story"
It was reported that banks and savings institutions last year ordered more than double the average amount of 2 dollar bills, which are being used more frequently in bars and strip clubs, especially now that strip clubs have stopped accepting rolls of nickels.
As Speaker of the House, Representative Nancy Pelosi would be third in the line of succession to the President. Second, if you don’t count vampires.
Former N Sync member Lance Bass has inspired a new term for gay celebrities who are outed by the media, which is called being "lanced." It thankfully beat out the alternative term, "being done Doogie-style."
Police in Michigan arrested a man for murder after his girlfriend told them that during a party game in which people name the stupidest thing they had ever done, her boyfriend answered, "Shot a guy in the head." He then corrected himself, saying "Wait, wait -- confessed to murder during a party game!"
Police in Arizona reported that a 40-foot trailer containing thousands of wedding gowns worth an estimated 3 million dollars was stolen form a charity that grants the dying wishes of women with breast cancer—surely the saddest story to ever be an Oprah wet dream.
A woman in London was sentenced to seven years in prison on Monday for keeping her sister-in-law as a domestic slave, forcing her to do housework naked and beating her. Her story will be told in the Lifetime Original Movie "My Sister My Nude Slave: The Just Dirty Enough to Get Men to Watch Lifetime Story"
It was reported that banks and savings institutions last year ordered more than double the average amount of 2 dollar bills, which are being used more frequently in bars and strip clubs, especially now that strip clubs have stopped accepting rolls of nickels.
As Speaker of the House, Representative Nancy Pelosi would be third in the line of succession to the President. Second, if you don’t count vampires.
A New Jersey woman is suing a Manhattan bar after allegedly falling and shredding ligaments in her knee last year during a "Shake It Like Shakira" contest when she fell while dancing on a "wet, unprotected and unsafe" bar. The bar is claiming no liability, as the contest was clearly titled “Shake It Like Shakira” and not “Shake It Like a Drunk, Clumsy Skank.”
Actress Reece Witherspoon has officially filed for divorce from Ryan Phillippe, thus ending America’s love affair with celebrity couple “Philwitherslippoon.”
President Bush on Wednesday morning called Representative Nancy Pelosi, who is expected to be the next Speaker of the House, to congratulate her on the Democrats win and to invite her to lunch, where presumably, he gave her the world’s most uncomfortable backrub.
Senator Rick Santorum, one of the most powerful conservative Republicans and a close ally of President Bush, lost his re-election bid on Tuesday. Santorum says he’s looking forward to his new life as a private bigot.
Friday, November 10, 2006
So Many Memories...
As the seasons change, let's take this opportunity--and my lack of new blog posting material--to look back over some of my late summer/ early fall (at least the comedy related part of it) via photographs. I don't have any available of Zombira, at present, but maybe I'll post those a little later.
And now, courtesy of my wife and her always-photographing ways, here's a little retrospective of the last few months.
Elliott gives one of his always-succinct monologues.
Dan confesses his inadequacies to sexual therapist Elliott, while wearing a funny hat.
Demetri Martin gives my wife the thumbs-up.
Dan and Elliott relax pre-Primetime Kalan by watching the Planet of the Apes cartoon.
The Daily Show's Dan Bakkedahl confuses Elliott Kalan's Ghost Hunting Club for Elia Kazan's "Go Stunting" Club.
Dan and Erik are sheepish about their lack of ghost hunting success.
In a shocking twist ending, the ghost hunters are revealed to be vampires.
Sara Schaefer has a Citizen Kane moment at her AOL "The DL" launch party.
I chat with Sara's Video Gaga co-producer John Kingman, regarding the open bar. This photo is not an endorsement of Stella Artois.
I congratulate Sara on becoming "The Internet's Sara Schaefer."
I am attacked by a bear. Tragically, I did not survive.
And now, courtesy of my wife and her always-photographing ways, here's a little retrospective of the last few months.
Elliott gives one of his always-succinct monologues.
Dan confesses his inadequacies to sexual therapist Elliott, while wearing a funny hat.
Demetri Martin gives my wife the thumbs-up.
Dan and Elliott relax pre-Primetime Kalan by watching the Planet of the Apes cartoon.
The Daily Show's Dan Bakkedahl confuses Elliott Kalan's Ghost Hunting Club for Elia Kazan's "Go Stunting" Club.
Dan and Erik are sheepish about their lack of ghost hunting success.
In a shocking twist ending, the ghost hunters are revealed to be vampires.
Sara Schaefer has a Citizen Kane moment at her AOL "The DL" launch party.
I chat with Sara's Video Gaga co-producer John Kingman, regarding the open bar. This photo is not an endorsement of Stella Artois.
I congratulate Sara on becoming "The Internet's Sara Schaefer."
I am attacked by a bear. Tragically, I did not survive.
Friday, November 03, 2006
In Which I Engage in Some Entertaining Japery
Some selections from my upcoming book, Uncle Dan's Rainy-Day Funtime Book of 1001 Jokes to Annoy Your Parent, Guardian, or Babysitter, 2006 Fisherman's Almanac:
Q: What did the fat man say after winning the top trophy at the pie-eating contest?
A: "To compete is its own reward."
Q: Why did the blonde scientist throw her clock out the window?
A: To test Einstein's theory of space-time... It was the window of a spaceship, traveling near a black hole. Very dangerous experiment. Unfortunately the results were inconclusive, since they were unable to retrieve the clock.
Q: What do you call a man with no arms and no legs who sits on a street corner?
A: That man is an honored veteran of our armed forces. Please, give generously, even if it is merely pocket change.
Q: How many Picts does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
A: None. You see, the Picts were a loose confederation of Scottish tribes, existing between the Roman times and the 10th century, and the earliest lightbulb was not developed until 1801. Thus, a Pict could not have screwed in a lightbulb.
Q: What is the difference between a banana and a bottle of arsenic?
A: I don't know! That's why I've never been able to successfully raise monkeys!
--
Q: What did the fat man say after winning the top trophy at the pie-eating contest?
A: "To compete is its own reward."
--
Q: Why did the blonde scientist throw her clock out the window?
A: To test Einstein's theory of space-time... It was the window of a spaceship, traveling near a black hole. Very dangerous experiment. Unfortunately the results were inconclusive, since they were unable to retrieve the clock.
--
Q: What do you call a man with no arms and no legs who sits on a street corner?
A: That man is an honored veteran of our armed forces. Please, give generously, even if it is merely pocket change.
--
Q: How many Picts does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
A: None. You see, the Picts were a loose confederation of Scottish tribes, existing between the Roman times and the 10th century, and the earliest lightbulb was not developed until 1801. Thus, a Pict could not have screwed in a lightbulb.
--
Q: What is the difference between a banana and a bottle of arsenic?
A: I don't know! That's why I've never been able to successfully raise monkeys!
Thursday, November 02, 2006
In Which I Engage In Pointless Negative Hackery
No Virgina, there is no Escape Clause. You know how I know? Because Tim Allen couldn't get out of starring out of The Santa Clause 3!HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
Burned! I totally burned Tim Allen! Yeah! Try having some credibility now, Tim Allen! Woo!
Yeah! Tim Allen is totally deserving of really obvious criticism! You do not want to fuck with me, Tim Allen, or I will mess you up via my blog! Boy howdy!
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Recycling Center: Rejected Jokes
All together now...
Facing pressure from GOP leaders as the midterm elections near, the White House said Monday that President Bush would not longer stress "stay the course" as a central goal in Iraq, and instead will focus on "milestones" and "benchmarks." Specifically, the best way to blow them up.
Australians are being urged to stop singing in the shower because the utility company claims that singing adds an extra 9 minutes to the average shower. Sounds like Australia just got turned on to Rush!
Responding to claims from her opponent in the Senate race that she used to be ugly and had plastic surgery, Hillary Clinton said that she was "cute" in high school... although it was cute in that, "I'll bet she has a really nice voting record" sort of way.
Coca-Cola announced Monday that it would donate two and a half acres of prime land near Atlanta's downtown tourist district to a proposed civil rights museum, along with one-fifteenth of a mule.
A judge in California has dismissed an indecent-exposure charge against a woman accused of sitting naked on her sun deck in a bid to "drive away" a teenage boy who was making too much noise playing basketball next door. Surprisingly, the tactic worked, as the woman was Joan Rivers.
According to a new study blue-eyed men prefer blue-eyed women because unconsciously they know that their children would also have blue-eyes and they could then determine if a partner was cheating. Which is why I'd like to introduce my new product: "Adulterer Brand Color Contacts for Babies."
Rush Limbaugh on Tuesday accused actor Michael J. Fox of exaggerating the physical effects off his Parkinson's disease in political ads urging viewers to support Democrats in the next election who support stem cell research. One thing definitely not exaggerated? Rush Limbaugh's ass-hattery.
President Bush on Tuesday accused Democrats of being "genetically disposed" to raise taxes. Maybe the president could give them some stem cells to help with that.
A panda cub in China bit off part of the thumb of an American visitor who was feeding it at a reserve, finally answering the question, "what's black and white and red all over?"
Dick Clark is selling memorabilia he collected during his years as host of American Bandstand, including a glove worn by Michael Jackson, a bustier worn by Madonna, and half a moustache worn by Prince.
Facing pressure from GOP leaders as the midterm elections near, the White House said Monday that President Bush would not longer stress "stay the course" as a central goal in Iraq, and instead will focus on "milestones" and "benchmarks." Specifically, the best way to blow them up.
Australians are being urged to stop singing in the shower because the utility company claims that singing adds an extra 9 minutes to the average shower. Sounds like Australia just got turned on to Rush!
Responding to claims from her opponent in the Senate race that she used to be ugly and had plastic surgery, Hillary Clinton said that she was "cute" in high school... although it was cute in that, "I'll bet she has a really nice voting record" sort of way.
Coca-Cola announced Monday that it would donate two and a half acres of prime land near Atlanta's downtown tourist district to a proposed civil rights museum, along with one-fifteenth of a mule.
A judge in California has dismissed an indecent-exposure charge against a woman accused of sitting naked on her sun deck in a bid to "drive away" a teenage boy who was making too much noise playing basketball next door. Surprisingly, the tactic worked, as the woman was Joan Rivers.
According to a new study blue-eyed men prefer blue-eyed women because unconsciously they know that their children would also have blue-eyes and they could then determine if a partner was cheating. Which is why I'd like to introduce my new product: "Adulterer Brand Color Contacts for Babies."
Rush Limbaugh on Tuesday accused actor Michael J. Fox of exaggerating the physical effects off his Parkinson's disease in political ads urging viewers to support Democrats in the next election who support stem cell research. One thing definitely not exaggerated? Rush Limbaugh's ass-hattery.
President Bush on Tuesday accused Democrats of being "genetically disposed" to raise taxes. Maybe the president could give them some stem cells to help with that.
A panda cub in China bit off part of the thumb of an American visitor who was feeding it at a reserve, finally answering the question, "what's black and white and red all over?"
Dick Clark is selling memorabilia he collected during his years as host of American Bandstand, including a glove worn by Michael Jackson, a bustier worn by Madonna, and half a moustache worn by Prince.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
