Randy Jackson Presents: America’s Next President

Hey there, ‘Redheads… As most of you know, I rarely get political, mostly because I’m not that well informed and it makes my head hurt. I think that’s what keeps a lot of Americans in a state of blissful political ignorance. This, however, forces certain fringe elements to focus on superficial stuff to try to get the stupid masses something shiny to latch onto and feel like they’re being political (it makes sense in my head). We’re a culture that’s fueled on superficial gossip and pseudo-celebrity.

I bring this up because I simply can’t believe that President Obama felt it necessary to give a moment of his attention to the walking comb over, Donald Trump, and his bluster about where Obama was born. In any sane society, this guy would have as much traction as a greased up Nissan Sentra on an ice rink, but because he’s rich and he’s on TV, people are actually listening to him. So, the president gave a statement this morning to the press and produced his Hawaii birth certificate. If you didn’t hear it, allow me to paraphrase, “I don’t have time for this bullshit. Here it is. Now, shut the fuck up.”

If Trump is actually going to run for president in 2012 (as the Mayans predicted), I think we should just cut the bullshit and just turn the presidential race into a reality show. Hell, more people vote for American Idol than they do in a national election. Have Simon Cowell and Paula Abdul moderate the debates, then have each candidate compete in weekly political challenges to win electoral votes. I also think that Trump should be forced to have the winner of Celebrity Apprentice be his running mate. I’m pulling for Busey, myself.

See you Thursday.


Hey there, ‘Redheads… I’m getting the blog out of the way early today because I’m pretty sure my brainbox will be completely congested with pollen by the end of the day. My head feels like it’s in geosynchronous orbit with my body. Every breath has to labor through a cloud of the crap that’s in my lungs. I’m tempted to cram a dustbuster up my nose, flip the switch to high, and suck out the offending particles, and if some brain matter goes with it, so be it. Anyway, I’ve got some random crap to tide you over until I can unclog things. Basically, whatever comes up in the lottery popper of my brain is coming out here. And away we go…

Bacon is a meat shrinky dink.

I’m fascinated by the recent viral videos of babies laughing at various things landing those babies on morning shows. Like this one…

Sure, babies are cute and you have to be an inhuman monster to not at least smile when they laugh, but there’s no reason to make YouTube celebrities out of these kids. It’s not fair for their 15 minutes to be up before they can even walk. Besides, they don’t know what their laughing at. I’d like to make one of these videos with a baby laughing at a TV, then have the camera pan around to show that it’s laughing at 2 Girls, 1 Cup.

As I drive around the DC area, I see signs that indicate three levels of traffic enforcement. There’s “Traffic Photo Enforced,” “Traffic Radar Enforced,” and “Traffic Strictly Enforced.” With the first two, you know what your getting, either a camera or a speed trap nearby. But what are you getting with “strictly enforced”? I picture a cop with a disappointed look sternly wagging his finger as you drive by. And if you do get pulled over, “Sir, please turn off your car and hand me the keys. You’re in time out. You can have these back once you’ve learned your lesson.”

See you Wednesday.

Leggo My Ego, Part Deux

Hey there, ‘Redheads… Sorry for the minor hiccup in postings. As I mentioned last time, my schedule was going to be hectic and the streak might suffer. Technically, it got snapped when I went to Mardi Gras, so I’m not too worried about it. Anyway, I’m back and I’ve got a heaping helping of me to go around.

Roughly two weeks ago, I did a professional photo shoot from a Groupon that was about to expire. Almost makes it sound like I got glamour shots done at a local mall, but this was a real deal on-location photo shoot in Glen Echo park, with the hopes that it might produce some dynamic promotional photos to replace my almost nine year old black and white headshots. Well, I got the pictures over the weekend and I’d like to run my top five of the batch past you to maybe get some feedback. Besides, I do enjoy looking at pictures of myself. As Al Pacino said in Devil’s Advocate, “Vanity is definitely my favorite sin.” So, put on your water wings and let’s take a dip in Lake Me. In no particular order, here are a couple of my favorites of the bunch…
This is my answer to Zoolander’s Blue Steel. Note the combination of the smirk, slight squint, and smolder.

I brought a prop with me on the shoot. An empty bottle of a wine called “Irony.” No, it’s not a chardonnay and no, there wasn’t a fly in it.

That’s right, folks. I’m a rebel, but I’m also lazy. I’m breaking rules, but I’m not climbing stairs.

I’m a big fan of this shot, because of the lines created in the blurry background. Really makes my nose pop right out at you. Also, as my friend Mia put it, it makes me look, “wry, but also approachable.”

You can find the rest of the pics on my Facebook fan page, conveniently located on your right. Please feel free to give some feedback. In case you haven’t guessed, I enjoy a compliment.

See you Tuesday.


Hey there, ‘Redheads… This one is just to keep the streak alive. Not sure what’s going to fill the space, but I’ll come up with something. I’m typing this from the third floor and heat rises. I’d like to think it’s just the heat and not that I’m horribly out of shape that’s making me break a sweat while I type. Speaking of being a sweaty tub of goo, I stepped on a scale for the first time in awhile and I saw a one in the hundreds place. That gypsy curse is starting to pay off. Looks like having three flights of stairs in my house is having a positive effect. I can’t lose too much weight, though. If I start looking svelt, I lose five good minutes worth of fat jokes. It’s a delicate balance I’m trying to maintain. I want to be in shape, but my self-deprecation needs to be believable. As my buddy Jerry Thomas always says, “Verisimilitude.”

Tomorrow, I’m going to be reminded of how old I am too. I’m going to the 15th anniversary show of Sketchup, UMD’s sketch comedy group that I was a founding member of back in 1996. What’s really going to make me feel ancient is the after party. Nothing makes 35 feel like 70 like attending a college kegger. I’ll have a full recap at some point. I hit the road for a gig in Warwick, Rhode Island on Friday, so my blogging schedule will be all screwed up.

‘Til then. See you Thursday.

Streak Free Sheen

Hey there, ‘Redheads… The circus is in town, as Charlie Sheen’s Violent Tirade Of Drug Addled Catchphrases Tour has wrecked its train in DC tonight. It’s been roughly three weeks since he concocted this tour and the novelty of Sheen’s ramblings have worn off. We’re all coming to the realization that Charlie is no Gary Busey. I host a trivia night in DC on Tuesday nights and a couple people in the bar were pre-gaming before the show tonight. They said that the start time had been pushed back an hour to 9pm because Charlie had to be at a custody hearing in L.A. today. It’s 10:45 right now. I’ve got five bucks that says the show hasn’t started yet. When he does finally hit the stage, there’s only a couple things that I think will hold the attention of the gawking masses. Either he juices a live tiger, then does a keg stand over the carcass, or he does a staged reading of Major League. Otherwise, people will make their way to the ticket counter and demand loudly, “Refunding!”

Apparently, Charlie’s whack-job antics have rubbed off on other celebrities recently. Nicolas Cage was recently arrested for disturbing the peace at a tattoo parlor in New Orleans. That’s so unlike him. Really, I’m shocked that Nicolas Cage would do such a thing…

See you Wednesday.

Passover, Then Pass Out

Hey there, ‘Redheads… I’ve got a couple glasses of Maneschevitz in me, so this blog will be short and sweet, then it’s bedtime for Bonzo. I just got back from Passover seder, one of the many times that Jews celebrate the recurring theme of, “They tried to kill us. They didn’t. Let’s eat.” I enjoy Passover, mostly because you’re required to drink four glasses of wine, but also because we get to take credit for building the pyramids. Since the seder I was at had small children present, we used a haggadah for kids. It was a bit more sing-songy, but it kept them involved. Sort of like One Fish, Two Fish , Red Fish, Gefilte Fish. It took pieces of the Passover story and made songs out of them to the tune of “Pop Goes the Weasel” or “On Top of Old Smokey.” My favorite was the song about the ten plagues that was put to the tune of “If You’re Happy and You Know It.” That’s now my second favorite song about the plagues. What’s my favorite, you ask?

During the seder, it’s customary to ask the four questions about why this night is different from all other nights. Well, now that it’s over, I have a couple follow up questions… 1) Why does my head hurt? 2) Why did I eat so much kugel? 3) Why do I keep forgetting that I can’t stand macaroons? And 4) What’s the deal with gefilte fish? Personally, I think gefilte fish is people.

All questions for another day. I’m going to bed. See you Tuesday. By the way, spell check hates the Jews apparently. Just sayin’…

Friday Random Crap

Hey there, ‘Redheads… Today should be Tax Day. It normally is, but we’ve been given the weekend to rifle through our receipts and figure out how to claim our pets as dependents. Today is also the anniversary of the assassination of Abraham Lincoln, which would make it an assassinaversary. He’s been turned into one of our more badass presidents through a hodgepodge of legend and alternate histories. Either he’s a vampire slayer or he’s bare chested and punching a grizzly bear in the face. Regardless of how he’s remembered, his message to the people has always rung true…

Party on, Abe. We hardly knew ye.

I’m usually not one to plan ahead, but I’ve figured out what I want to be for Halloween… And Arbor Day… And next Thursday…

Remember, if you’re stuck on what to do tonight, and you’re in or around downtown Bethesda…I’ll be your host, along with Brian Parise, Martin Plant, and Jeff Maurer. It’s FREE, because you’re worth it.

See you there. And see you Monday.