Ah, the power of positive titling. ‘Redheads, November started so full of promise. Two blogs in four days. Then, my usual sloth sets in and here I am apologizing to you two weeks later. So, I’m gonna try to write…tonight tonight tonight…whoa whoa. So, I have a couple cool things to report. I was hoping to have some cool pictures to go along with the report, but I missed out on a pair of prime celebrity photo ops. Instead, I’ll be peppering in some other pictures that I’ve already collected to spice up all these hum drum words.

Let’s wind back the clock to last Monday, when I had the distinct honor of paying tribute to the Class Clown, George Carlin. My dad scored some tickets to the Mark Twain Prize at the Kennedy Center. We got there about a half hour before the doors opened and we found our way to the red carpet, where the celebrity presenters were being interviewed by the various media. We got there in time to see walking mannequin, Joan Rivers, wave and attempt to smile at the amateur paparazzi that lined the hallway, snapping away with cameras and cellphones. Then came my first missed photo op, when Lewis Black walked down the aisle and was taking pictures with some people nearby. I was about three or four deep in back of the crowd, so by the time I got close enough to muster up the courage to say something to him, he was on his merry way. So, instead, here’s a picture of me with Judah Friedlander

After we saw Denis Leary, Jon Stewart, and Lily Tomlin make their way through the media gauntlet, we decided to make our way to the main doors. While waiting for them to let us in, I ran into the only other DC comedian that I spotted that night, Brian Jett…wearing a suit…that’s like finding a filthy unicorn. There’s been some controversy over the content of the live show. The clips of Carlin that they showed seemed arbitrarily bleeped. In one clip, “shit” got through, but they bleeped out “goddamn”. And when they played the clip of the seven dirty words, it sounded like Morse code. Seems a little specious to censor a guy who did so much to point out the hypocrisy of censorship. C’mon, Kennedy Center. We’re all adults…take care of that crap in post. Aside from the heartfelt tributes, no opportunity was spared to celebrate the recent victory of Barack Obama. It’s a shame the special won’t air until April. The best line of the night went to Richard Belzer , who claimed to have gotten his hands on Obama’s inaugural address. He then spouted Arabic gibberish…classic (as I type this, he’s on The Daily Show doing the same gag).

My next chance to get snapped with a celebrity came on Saturday. Some of my dork friends and I went to the E St. Cinema to catch a sold out showing of My Name Is Bruce, which basks in the oeuvre of Mr. Evil Dead, Bruce Campbell (in case you were wondering, that’s oeuvre easy). A seemingly never-ending Fantasia broomstick army of pasty white people packed the theater to get a fix of b-movie schlock, mainlined straight into their retinas. Two bloody stumps up, by the way. If you’re at all familiar with his work, you’ll probably get a kick out of it. After the flick, Bruce came out for a Q & A session with the assembled throng. Probing questions about sequels that will never get made, obscure plot points, and hellish film shoots were fielded. Unfortunately, he did not make himself available for pictures afterward. Instead, here’s a picture of me with Henry Rollins…

I saw something today that warmed my cockles as the temperature dips below freezing. I saw a 1 in the dollar place on a gas station price board. That’ll make it easier for us to live out of our cars when our mortgages default. You’re going to want to hang on to those GMs, by the way…they’ll be collector’s items in about a month or so. I think if we’re going to bail out the auto industry, we need to lay down some strict guidelines…like 0% financing for 24 months…we’ll pay off their trade, no matter how much they owe…negative equity applies to new loan balance.

Before I get going, a mazel tov to my best buddy Seth and his wife Alison on the birth of their bouncing baby boy, Ethan. I’ll hopefully have a picture of the little pisher soon. Until then, here’s a picture of me with the Stanley Cup…

I’ll try to get another installment in before Turkey Day.

Tonight’s Forecast: Dark

Hey there ‘Redheads… This one might ramble a bit. I still can’t get over that George Carlin is gone. Not only is he a giant, one of the heads on the Mount Rushmore of comedy, but I count him as one of my biggest influences. He was equal parts silly and subversive, clever and caustic, absurdist and acerbic. In one breath he could convince you that God doesn’t exist and in the next list off five kinds of farts and why each one was funny. And he was a ninja with words. One of my favorite lines of his is “Backwards words say to used I. Again go I there. Shit oh.” That’s off the A Place For My Stuff album. It’s one of his funniest and it sets the benchmark for observational comedy. One of the great sketches on the album is a game show called Asshole, Jackoff, Scumbag, where one of the contestants’ hobbies is “calling up the Red Cross and telling them to go fuck themselves.” Keeps getting funnier every time I hear it. Do yourself a favor, click the link, and press play. Thank me later. He first caught my ear when I was 11, listening to a Comic Relief cassette. I got a chance to see him live at the Warner Theater about 8 years ago, before I started doing stand-up. I remember being slightly disappointed because he was reading off of note cards, not realizing that he was using the performance as a tune-up for an upcoming HBO special. The second half of the show was essentially an infomercial for a six CD boxed set of all of his classic albums on the Little David record label (get that). At that show, I got a t-shirt. On the front is a picture of him making a contorted face. On the back it says, “Simon says… Go fuck yourself.” It’s a shame that his Mark Twain Prize will be posthumous. I would’ve liked to see him accept that. Thank you, George. You will be missed.

For those of you who’ve been itching to see me locally, this weekend is the ointment for that itch. I’m featuring at the Baltimore Comedy Factory with Vince Morris. Seven shows for your viewing pleasure this Thursday – Saturday. Click the link for tix and info. Sure, Baltimore was just rated the most armed and dangerous city, but don’t let that keep you from checking out the show. Let a smile be your kevlar vest. Did I forget to mention… DRINKS ARE ON ME!! Just print out the coupon below and drink for free, thus making me funnier.

See you in Charm City…