North, Miss Tessmocker…Due North

Hey there, ‘Redheads… My head is swimming in a haze of snot right now. I’m doing my darndest to evict whatever leased out space in my sinuses. It’s messing with the plumbing, apparently. Two tablets of Tussin are on the job. I’ve got a road trip coming up that I’d rather not be sick for. We’ll get to that in a bit. I just wanted to let you know what I go through to get this blog to you.
I hope you had a fun, non-confrontational, Thanksgiving. Mine was both of those. I went up to Philly to spend time with the big ball of cute that is my nephew. Turkey was had. Football was watched. Pretty much par for the course. I’m proud of myself for not shoveling too much into my head hole. Maybe if I crammed another helping of mashed potatoes in there, there wouldn’t be room for this cold.
On Saturday, I went back to my old ‘hood for a party for my buddy Richard, who was able to pass the bar (so, hooray for AA). He’s the guy in charge of upkeep for, which has been stagnant while he was in law school. He promises it’ll be back up and current soon…he better, or I’ll sue his ass…I like my chances.

I’m looking forward to a couple things that’re swiftly approaching. First, which you may’ve noticed from the title, is tomorrow’s release of the Superman 14 DVD boxed set. Upside: it includes the new movie, Superman Returns, and a brand new cut of one of my favorite movies, Superman II. Oh yeah…Kneel before Zod. This includes all of the footage that was left on the cutting room floor when the original director, Richard Donner, was fired more than halfway through filming. This version gets to the action quicker and does away with needless fluff. The movie’s climactic battle in the streets of New York is still one of the best comic book fights on film…still holds up nearly 30 years later. I can’t wait to see what the new version looks like. Hopefully it’ll settle some unresolved issues…

Downside: it includes Superman IV: The Quest For Peace…hey, they can’t all be winners.

In keeping with the theme of the title, the second thing I’m looking forward to is shuffling off to Buffalo on Thursday for a slate of shows at the Comix Cafe. I had a great time last time I was there. I plan to feast on many a sauced chicken appendage. I also have some unfinished business with the Seneca Indian tribe. They have $100 of mine that I’d like to reclaim. Here’s hoping I can play a better game of poker than I did last time (I yelled out “go fish”…not good). A full recap of my Buffalonian exploits will be here next time.

With time passing as quickly as it is, I can’t wait for the return of the longest day of the year, 24. FOX is showing the promos, and they take me to a happy place. My Mondays are yours, Jack. I’ve reinforced the edge of my seat, so it’ll last the whole season. Look for a new installment of Guys Watching 24…it may not be there, but at least it’ll drive up the hit count for the current one.

Your comedy homework is due tomorrow night. At the DC Improv, a group of DC’s finest comics will be assembled to strut their stuff for some suits from Comedy Central. This could be a big break for them, and the chances of that increase with a larger crowd in attendance. Go support. Despite not making the list, I’ll be there to live vicariously through my comedy brethren. However, I will be ready for action, in case one of them happens to get Nancy Kerriganed outside the club before showtime. It’s a night of big dreams, is all I’m saying. I could sum it up best with one of my favorite exchanges from Superman II

ZOD: What do you want?
LUTHOR: General, the world is a big place. Thank goodness, my needs are small. As it turns out, I have this affinity for…beach front property.
ZOD: What do you want?
LUTHOR: Australia!

To be continued…


Hey there ‘Redheads… Boy, am I glad I didn’t write this yesterday. I was in a kind of self-loathing blue funk that made it seem that things sucked so much that light couldn’t escape. Apparently, you guys were lax in sending positive mojo my way, because I did not get cast for that talk show I auditioned for *sigh*. Congrats to comedy dynamo Justin Schlegel and human cartoon Jan Johns for getting the call. Curse their very talented hides. A plague on both their hilarious houses. Finding out that I didn’t get it, stacked on top of a couple other opportunities I’ve been passed over for recently, made all of my usual ironic self-deprecating anti-hype seem plausible. Long story short: It stunk. Out loud. On ice. With a lemon twist and a dash of salt for the several thousand paper cuts on my psyche. The only thing that kept me from wondering aloud, “Why not me?” was the fear that someone would whip out list of about 50 reasons why not. Anyway, rather than sitting at home, stewing, I dragged myself out to the comedy hot spot of Ned Devine’s. That was the perfect remedy. Good friends. Good crowd. Great laughs. So, in the spirit of the holiday, thanks to Rob Maher, Jessica Paquin, Brian Jett, Bird Knight, Hampton, Tyler Richardson, Jim Elliott, and everyone else who unknowingly took the thorn out of my paw with their camaraderie. Chalk up another quality of the blog…cheaper than therapy.

Ok, enough of that noise. I did something a couple days ago that I’m not proud of and I’m here to take responsibility for it. I sent a mass email forward. A chain letter. I hadn’t had enough sleep the night before and, in a moment of weakness, thought Bill Gates might send me money for every person I forwarded an email to. The last thing I ever want to do is perpetuate that kind of pointless unfunny garbage. To anyone who I might’ve sent that to, I apologize unreservedly. I offer a complete and utter retraction. The imputation was completely without basis in fact and in was in no way fair comment…and was motivated purely by malice. And I deeply regret any distress the email may have caused you, or your family, and I hereby undertake not to repeat any such action at any time in the future. We good? Ok then.

If you’d like a taste of my weekend hijinks, please to be reading Joe Robinson’s blog. I’ll give you my take on it in the next installment. In the meantime, I hope everyone has a gravy drenched Turkey Day. I’ll be back to my usual cheery blogging self when I wake up from the food coma.

To be continued…

Save The Blog Reader, Save The World…

Maybe that’ll help increase ratings. For as good a show as Heroes is, that whole Save the Cheerleader thing is cornier than Orville Reddenbacher’s will reading. Just sayin’. Hey there ‘Redheads… This week’s installment is going to be chock full of random goodness.

You’ll remember that last time I told you I was the the uncle of a nameless new nephew. Well, as of Wednesday, I’m happy to report that the little ball of cute was dubbed Moshe…I’ll be calling him Mo. I mentioned before that the ceremony took place at a kosher diner. A bris & breakfast. I felt bad for the little guy…he thought he was going for pancakes. He was incredibly well behaved, considering what was being done. A few of the adults cried more than he did. Care to see another of what will be a series of adorable pictures? I knew you did…

Don’t stare directly at the cute, lest ye be overcome…

On Friday, I went to audition for some sort of talk show in Baltimore. Details were spotty at best, but they were looking for funny folk to potentially host, and I was one of the many that answered the call. There was a mix of actors and comics who came out for this thing. I ran into two of my favorite characters, comedy dynamo, Justin Schlegel and human cartoon, Jan Johns. To hear these two talk is like shoving peyote buttons in your ears. Both of ’em have their switches stuck in the “on” position. I did my best to contribute to the conversation, but it was like drinking a mint chocolate chip milkshake…delicious, yes, but I was the chip that got jammed in the straw. There was also no shortage of hot actresses. One gal, who’s name unfortunately escapes me, had the biggest, bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. I needed water-wings to peer into her peepers. Bay windows to her soul, they were. Anyway, the audition ended up being about two minutes of stand-up in front of three guys and a camera, then a small improved scene. They laughed at me, so I think things went well…I’m keeping the expectations nice and low. Feel free to send any positive mojo my way.

Here’s a curious news nugget I spotted in the Sports section of last Thursday’s USA Today
The scene that unfolded following this year’s U.S. Open women’s final was classic tennis theater of the absurd. As 19-year-old Russian star Maria Sharapova slugged her way to the title, television cameras caught members of her camp holding up a banana and flashing four fingers from the stands – possible evidence of coaching, which is illegal in tennis. She was later seen eating a banana at courtside. Sharapova later deflected questions about the fruit by declaring, “I believe at the end of the day, my life is not about a banana.”
Are they sure that that was a member of her camp? I ask you, what guy doesn’t want to watch Maria Sharapova eat a banana? I’m just saying, I’m sure there was another lonely putz, on the other side of the stadium, coaching her to eat a foot-long hot dog, then squeeze mustard on her chest.

The following is a presentation from the world of Dork. If that’s not your particular brand of vodka, you may want to just skip down to the next bit. For the rest of you, put down the 20-sided dice and check this out. I’m not usually a huge fan of homemade Star Wars films, but this one is pretty damn sweet.

See what a Star Wars project looks like with a little fun injected into it? Take notes, Lucas. Your prequels were as joyless as Condoleeza Rice attending a puppy’s funeral…with droids. Ok, I’m done. I just think that a couple franchises would do well in the hands of well meaning fans with the technical know-how. I submit Exhibit B…

We wrap up this week’s installment on a somber note, as we lost a film icon over the weekend. Sadly, Jack Palance is now doing one-armed push-ups at the Oscars in the sky (I hear Passion of the Christ swept…again). He was 87. Most people thought he was closer to 97…or dead five years already. He’s the second member of the cast of City Slickers to die in the last few months. Someone check on Daniel Stern. Mr. Palance, you…were our #1…guy (extra credit if you got that reference).

To be continued…

Remember to November

Hey there ‘Redheads… Wish this blog a mazel tov. I’m an uncle. On November 1st, my sister squeezed out a 7 1/2 pound, 21 inch, bouncing baby boy…

Until the bris on Wednesday, he remains nameless. Although, after spending the day with him on Sunday, I think an appropriate name would be Scrunchyface McPoopsalot. Not exactly a biblical name, but wouldn’t that book be a better read if it was? Whichever name is bestowed upon him, it falls upon me as his Crazy Uncle Jared to give him a new nickname just about every time I see him (see above). Unfortunately, the day he’s giveth a name is the day a piece of his winky gets taketh away. I wish I were making up the fact that the bris will be taking place at a kosher deli. I hope they realize they’re naming a child, not a sandwich. Apparently, the mohel moonlights. Once he’s done shaving the brisket, it’s on to the snippin’. Hey, who’s hungry?

Also, thanks to you, the loyal readers for pushing the blog past the 7000 hits mark. I’ve tried to spruce the place up to keep you coming back for 7000 more. You’ll note the addition of 3 video links, including the YouTube hit GUYS WATCHING 24, the most recent collaboration with Chris White NEVER CAN SAY GOODBYE, and a comically acclaimed test of mental endurance that I dare you to sit all the way through (“I just got through the whole thing and I feel sick, Jared…I feel sick in my heart…” -Danny Rouhier “It was so painful but, once I got through it, I went numb. This was one of the best things I have ever seen.” -Jon Mumma “It actually made my hair hurt and I couldn’t watch the whole thing.” -Kat Malone). It’s conveniently linked to your right…if ya got the gumption.
I’m hoping I can get the 100th installment and the 10,000 hits mark to coincide…and there will be much rejoicing. This blog has been a nice little outlet…to stick a fork into.

On Saturday, I traveled to York (the city that over sleeps), PA to do a one-nighter at the Victory Athletic Club. Gigs like this walk a fine line of being alot of fun or mind-bendingly awful. Luckily, this one toppled into the fun side, despite hearing a couple patrons refer to my act as a “skit”. They were starved for entertainment. I know when I’m starving, my standards of deliciousness drop considerably. They bellied up to the all-you-can-chortle buffet and gorged on me, and two other very funny guys, Jim Johnson and Mike Morse. Eat, ya jackals.

While I was just in the shower (where I do some of my best thinking outside of the toilet), I started experimenting with the brevity of my material. Maybe it was the natural acoustics, but the jokes sounded funnier. So, with that, I’m designating this month, Get To The Punchlines Quicker-vember…nah…howabout Brevember…turning over a new leaf, as they fall to the ground. We’ll see if this works any better than my previous comedic experiments.

To be continued…