Hey there ‘Redheads… This recent cold snap has put a freeze on my planned blogging schedule, because I’ve been burning blog ideas for warmth. Jumpin‘ Jim Brunzell it’s cold. I wanted to shimmy a quick one in before the witching hour, so I just have a couple random tidbits for ye.

First, a quick word problem. On my way to work this morning, I spotted a man driving a sedan with a pink candy paint job, Louis Vuitton logos and dollar signs patterned on the roof and hood, and on the back was written “Bubble Gum Hunter” in pink. At 35mph, how fast should I call the cops?

The big sports news is Mark McGwire’s admission that he took steroids while he was putting baseballs into orbit en route to breaking Roger Maris’ hallowed single season home run record. Quite the revelation. Mark McGwire also revealed that his name is Mark McGwire. Most of us were convinced when he stood before congress and said, “Don’t make me angry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.” The only way we were going to be shocked was if, mid press conference, he did this. I’d like to state, for the record, that I have never taken performance enhancing drugs. And it shows.

Another shocking bit of news is that The Jay Leno Show sucks so bad that light can’t escape it. So, NBC decided to lance the boil on the ass of it’s prime time line-up. As a result, they’re giving Conan O’Brien a peacock right up the ass, trying to shove his Tonight Show to midnight to wedge Leno’s cartoonishly large chin in at 11:35. Well, Conan is wound up, and not just because Jay is torquing that knife in his back. When the dust from this shit storm settles, Jay will get his way, Conan will probably head up to FOX, and Jimmy Fallon will have the freakinTonight Show essentially fall in his lap. Which will make this picture seem all the more impressive…

In the wake of NBC’s shameless treatment of Conan O’Brien, I’d like to take a moment to shed some light on an oft overlooked problem…

Please give.

One quick plug before I wrap up. On Saturday, Jan. 30th, I’m part of a dynamite line-up at the DC Improv Comedy Lounge. Me, Chris White, Erik Myers, Jason Weems, and Aparna Nancherla. Even if you’re sick of me, this’ll be a great show. It will sell out. Get your tix by clicking here.

To be continued…


Me Olde

Hey there ‘Redheads… We’re on the back end of September, which seems like it’s only a week long. With time on an out of control rocket sled toward the future, I find myself reflecting on my life and a piece of it that I’ll never get back. That’s right, I just got done watching The Jay Leno Show. Wow, what a clunky pile of dreck that thing is. I realize it’s only in its second week, and it may still be looking for its comedy stride, but holy crap. It’s tough to find your stride with a charlie horse in one leg and polio in the other. His guest on tonight’s show was Pee Wee Herman. Nice to see Jay burnt through his celebrity Rolodex in the first week. They talked about when he got bit by the acting bug, and then he made Jay a salad. I wish I was kidding… I wish they were kidding… I almost euthanized my TV.

Speaking of finding your stride in the second week, howabout them Redskins, huh? They sputtered through another 60 minutes of football and narrowly beat the hapless Rams 9 to 7. And they were roundly booed by the home crowd. I can’t imagine why. It’s week two and your punter has more touchdowns than your starting running back. To the Redskins, the endzone is a mythical place, and the two members of the team that’ve crossed its magical threshold tell the tallest tales of the creatures that frolic there. I’m not one to boast about my athletic prowess but, through two weeks, I have comparable stats to Redskin wide receiver, Santana Moss. I only have 5 fewer catches, 41 fewer yards, the same number of touchdowns, and I haven’t fumbled. I’m expecting a contract offer from the team any time now. I’m no Cowboy fan either, but that monstrosity of a stadium that Jerry Jones built is pretty impressive. That place is so huge, the bathroom attendant is a Minotaur. After they lost to the Giants, I expected Jerry’s withered visage to show up on that massive jumbotron, give the thumbs down, and release the lions to eat Romo. By the way, Jerry Jones should never ever be in HD. He looks like he chose the wrong grail.

By the way, Happy 5770 to everybody. That’s right, Jews control show business and time travel. Wow, 5770…shit’s crazy. Anyone else think we’re way overdue for…

Keeping with the theme of lost time and wasted potential, it’s my birthday on Thursday. I’ll be 34…17 again…the 13th anniversary of my 21st birthday…the combined maturity of 17 two-year-olds. At some point this week, I’ll be plunging a candle into the blow hole of Fudgy the Whale. I’m not treating 34 like it’s old or anything. You’re only as old as you feel, so I’ve been 80 for a couple years now anyway. I got a small taste of life’s fragility earlier this week. I hit a bird with my car on my way to work. It just flew right out in front of me. What a way to start the morning. Just my luck. It didn’t have insurance and it didn’t speak English…

On the off chance any of you were thinking about buying me a birthday present, allow me to drop this subtle hint…

Huge show coming up this Saturday, in the DC Improv Comedy Lounge

Jason Weems
Steve Coltrain
Doug Powell
Erin Jackson
…and me.

Even if you’re sick of me, this show is gonna be awesome. Miss it at your peril. Click here for tix.

To be continued…