Hey there ‘Redheads… Just a quickie to share a few shiny baubles I’ve found in the vast wasteland of cyberspace over the past couple days. Dim the lights, sit back, and enjoy…
First, groove to this…
Next, enjoy this coming attraction…
And finally, cement your place in hell by giggling your ass off at this…
Enjoy your weekend…
Hey there, ‘Redheads… Happy Father’s Day to everyone out there…for all you bastards and orphans, Happy Sunday…sorry for rubbing it in. I gotta think of another blog gimmick for June, or else this month is going to fall woefully short of the standard set in May. Two mediocre entries in two weeks…I had 14 mediocre entries at this point last month. I bring good news with this fresh batch of banality. Wish me a mazel tov. I’m an uncle again. Mo got himself a little sister. Which is nice because I didn’t have to get dressed up to watch a winky get snipped again. Instead, there was a special naming ceremony for her a couple days after she popped out. So, when I found out she was born, she didn’t have a name yet. I called her Moesha. Her actual name is Riva Chaya. I might still call her Moesha. Here she is, for your cooing pleasure…
Can’t wait to start makin’ funny faces at her in person…
I was just watching Tiger Woods eke out a playoff at the US Open. A buddy of mine was marvelling at how much he gets paid just for his Nike sponsorship. I’m sure the figure is off, but he said, “50 million dollars to wear a hat.” For a tenth of that money, I’d sell out faster than bags of glitter at the Pride Parade (I need a better line for that joke, but that’ll do in a pinch).
Now, on to the titular portion of the blog (heh…titular). Feast your eyes and ears on the latest bits of twisted sketchery from the duo of Chris White and myself. Eyes first…here’s a video about the power of imagination…and rum. Enjoy my crappy acting…
And now you can close your eyes (to help stop the burning) and give a listen to this audio sketch that answers the famous hypothetical question about being stranded on a desert island. My acting is only slightly less crappy in…
Just so you know, if I was stranded on a desert island I would want to be with all of you…because you’re buoyant.
I just flipped channels to Comedy Central and one of the perpetual Mind of Mencia reruns is on. Have you seen the promos for this season of this douchebag’s show?
He’s pushing the boundaries…He’s shattering expectations…
The sketch he just did was a Scarface parody where his “little friend” was a midget. Way to go there, Carlos. The only thing you’re doing is lowering the common denominator. You’re not Dave Chappelle…you’re not even Dave Coulier. Safety scissors are edgier than you. Keep screaming those stereotypes real loud, ya posing putz. Sorry…that sounded petty. Correct, but petty. Seriously, America, demand better.
To be continued…
Hey there ‘Redheads… Welcome to November…only 53 procrastinating days left until 2008. I’d like my readers to rest assured that the Hollywood writers strike will have no adverse effect on the quality of this blog…it’ll be just as shitty as ever. I swung by my local 7-11 and rounded up a couple day laborers to pick up the slack. I hope the strike ends soon, though. I found this disturbing little tidbit in this morning’s USA Today…
The clock has stopped on 24. Fox confirmed that the real-time thriller’s seventh season, which was to have run from January through May, will be delayed indefinitely. It is the first major casualty of the writers’ strike, in its third day Wednesday.
Get your shit together, Hollywood, before Keifer Sutherland gets hammered and starts torturing writers with a pair of pliers and a blowtorch. If it doesn’t get resolved soon, I’m here to offer the services of the writing team who brought you GUYS WATCHING 24. Pick our scabs.
Here’s another nugget of news that I found amusing…
Michael Jackson appears on the December 2007 of Ebony Magazine to celebrate the 25th anniversary of the world’s best-selling album, Thriller.
For the issue, the magazine will temporarily change its name to Irony. Really? Thriller is a great album, but Michael Jackson looks like the photo negative of an Ebony cover. Vincent Price has more color than Michael Jackson. He would look less out of place as the spokesman for Gap Kids.
‘Redheads, find yourself a piece of cake and a balloon and wish my impossibly cute nephew a happy birthday. He’s the big 0-1. Stand by for pictures from the par-tay…
I’ll give you some time to recover from that stampede of cute. Your senses are no doubt completely overloaded by this dimple dyna-mo. Since it was his 1st birthday, it took him a little while to realize that it was all for him. Once the presents got opened, I think it sunk in…MINE! I have to think that’s the predominant thought in a baby’s head anyway, but he seemed to noodle it through the he was even more special that day.
I plan on adopting Mo’s mentality in about a week, when I step off a plane and hit the strip in Las Vegas (I will NOT use the phrase “VEGAS BABY” at all…except for just then). I’ll be down there in support of my buddy, Chris White, who is taking part in the Las Vegas Comedy Festival. There will be much poker played. Hopefully, I won’t come home wearing a barrel. Can’t wait.
Tonight, I’m heading out to catch my friend’s band, Kid Goat, at the Quarry House Tavern. I’m excited, not only to see the band but because the Quarry House is right across the street from another place I’m eager to check out…Piratz Tavern. A pirate themed bar, with wench-themed waitresses. It’s Hooters with scurvy.
Finally, just in time for gas prices to get higher than a roadie for the Black Crowes, I’m hittin’ the road for a weekend of shows in the land of Dunder-Mifflin, Scranton, PA. I’ll be at .Wisecracker’s trying to force feed laughter to the Scrantonians. If you’re in the area, come say hi.
To be continued…
Greetings ‘Redheads… In the spirit of ‘Ween, I offer you one of the most gruesome, horrifying, and soul-depleting pieces of video ever gazed upon by mortal man. Hit play at your peril, for this video has reduced the stoutest of hearts to quivering piles of mush. Remove your belt and shoelaces and hide any sharp objects, for the suicide rate of those who view this video in its entirety is close to 100%. You’ve been warned…
Still with me? Then enjoy this video proof that I’m a Were-Buscemi…
Happy ‘Ween…
To be continued…
Hey there ‘Redheads… Once again, time is flying. For me, that’s pretty much literal. I recently became the owner of a flying alarm clock. Because I hit the snooze button so much, it filed a restraining order against me (hey, it fell, ok?). It’s a pretty nifty little bit battery powered gadgetry. A little whirligig rests on top of the base. When the alarm goes off, it launches the whirligig into the air, and it continues to blare red alert klaxons until it is returned to the base. You’d think this would be a pretty effective way to drag me out of bed, but most of my dreams take place on the bridge of the Enterprise during the Kobayashi Maru scenario…so, it kinda blends in (do not try that reference at home…professional dork on a closed course). Speaking of dreams, I’ve got some great little video comedy tidbits for you. Some brand new productions from me and Chris White and a couple pieces of random goofy crap that I claim no responsibility for. Let’s dim the lights and get to the retinal recreation…
Jeez, I’m a shitty actor. Good thing no one will see this… If you’ll remember, in the last installment, I hipped you to a group of aerospace engineers who built a functioning X-Wing. Well, they launched the sucker last weekend. Here’s what went down…
It went down…in flames. A crushing blow to the rebellion.
If you’re like me, you enjoyed the recent blockbuster, Transformers. But maybe you didn’t like it enough to buy it on DVD today. Here’s something to quench your thirst for something more than meets the eye…
Vector Sigma.
To be continued…
Hey there ‘Redheads… With September in the rear-view mirror, we’re motoring through the happy town of Blogtober. Population: You. Try not to muck the place up too much while you’re here. This is why we can’t have nice things. Speaking of driving, my Jeep hit 90,000 miles today. It’s a mixed bag when your car reaches a milestone like that. On the one hand, it’s pretty cool watching the odometer flip to zeros. On the other hand, I’ve driven 90,000 miles and where the fuck am I? Makes ya think…and who wants that?
I have a bunch of random stuff for you this time out…some cool audio, some funny video, and a couple other nuggets to help pad this installment…shove some tangerines in its training bra.
Let’s start with the audio. You might remember awhile back, I tried to play mama bird and regurgitate some iPod food into your chirping beaks. Well, I found some kick ass new mash-ups for you to jam in your ear holes. Eat, ya jackals…
WHOLE LOTTA SABBATH (Led Zepplin vs. Black Sabbath)
THUNDER BUSTERS (AC/DC vs. Ray Parker Jr.)
HALLOWED BE THEY ENEMY (Iron Maiden vs. Public Enemy)
METALLICA GOES TO PUNJAB (Metallica vs. Punjabi MC)
Ok, now the video. I forget where I found this, but I got a kick out of it, so I figured I’d pass it on to you guys. If you’re a die hard fan of…well, Die Hard, you’ll get a chuckle from this little ditty…
And now, some of the afore mentioned nuggetude… ATTENTION GEEKS!! Check this shit out…
A group of aerospace engineers in California have constructed a scale model of an X-Wing that actually flies. Here’s an excerpt from their website:
It is over 21′ long, with a wingspan of over 19′ – “We opted to use a cluster of four motors to emulate the “real” X-wing, and positioned the motors in the wing pods. The real challenge was to make the wings move in flight, from “attack” position to “landing” position. Late additions to the project included making R2D2 turn via radio & make sounds.
If I have to tell you how cool that is, then I don’t know if we can be friends anymore… The X-Wing takes flight on October 6th…and will make a flippin’ sweet YouTube video when in crashes shortly thereafter…
One more thing before I go. Your comedy homework this weekend is to go see Jake Johanssen at the DC Improv. My good friends John Garrett and Chris White are opening for him. Three gawky white guys. A parade of pasty. Luckily, they’re damn funny. Go. Laugh.
To be continued…
Hey there ‘Redheads… I hope everyone had themselves a festive 4th of July. While watching the rocket’s red glare from the Key Bridge, I definitely felt less dependent. I heaved a case of Lipton iced-tea into the Potomac to give the celebration that little something extra…my apologies to the poor saps in the kayaks below. So, with the oddly placed holiday, it seems like it’s been awhile since the last installment (yes, I know, the waiting is the hardest part…especially when you’re waiting to put up with me). Quite a bit of fun was had on my behalf since then that I’ll be more than happy to share. First though, congratulations to local funnymen Chris White, Rob Maher, Marion Kendrick, and L.A. transplant Dawan Owens for being picked to compete in Comedy Central’s Open Mic Fight. They’re part of a group of 72 that were selected from a nation-wide online search…I’m pretty sure more than 72 people submitted, so it’s a pretty big deal. Sadly, I did not make the cut, despite sending them a dynamite set for their consideration. I’d like to think I was number 73 on their list (and number one in your hearts…five, at least). Here is what they chose to pass on…
Freakin’ dynamite…blowin’ up…they thought it just blew. Anywho, enough about me…let’s downshift into 3rd person and get into the great couple of days had by Jared Stern, shall we?
FRIDAY: I returned to my alma mater, Springbrook High, to check out a fellow alum, Lewis Black. I was class of ’93. He was class of ’66. Pretty cool, eh? It was a sold out auditorium with alumni from every previous class from ’66 to now represented in some way or another. What was amazing to me was they were able to dig up his math teacher, who probably could’ve been carbon dated. I’d never seen Lewis Black live before, and despite some high school AV issues, the show was amazing. And did he tone things down at all for the elderly or school administration in attendance? Noooo. About a minute in, he told anyone who didn’t get a joke to go fuck themselves. This is what high school math class daydreams are made of. After he closed the show to a standing ovation, he was presented with a football jersey. And he did the show gratis, all the proceeds going to scholarships. I’m sure they’ll name a bathroom after him, or something.
SUNDAY: What a gorgeous day. The first in several weeks which the air wasn’t chewable. Luckily, I was able to take advantage of it by going to a park party in Dumbarton Oaks, complete with frisbees, sport-related balls, and all sorts of other tools for recreation. It was a chance to bask in the joys of being nine again…except for the sangria. The other major stumbling block in our trip back to recess, was that our late-twenties, early-thirties bodies just don’t quite bounce back the way they used to. This was evidenced primarily in our game of Spud. Remember Spud (click the link if you don’t)? It’s a dodgeball variant that involves a lot of full-speed running and sudden stops then more full-speed running. After playing two spirited games with nine-year old reckless abandon, my body slowly began to rust. I’m not in great shape (I’m getting winded typing this), but I’d like to think I can handle a little bit of activity. Turns out, nope. The next day, I was one giant cramp. Pretty much crippled from the neck down. I was very close to renting a rascal to get around in.
MONDAY: I found out about a freakin’ sweet bit of promotional to-do going on right in our backyard. Turns out that twelve 7-11’s across the country have been chosen to be converted into Kwik-E-Marts in order to promote the up coming Simpsons Movie. Aside from the facelift, these stores will be selling Buzz Cola, Krusty-O’s, Radioactive Man comic books, and Squishees in collectible cups. In cities like New York, L.A., Denver, Chicago, and…Bladensburg, MD…about a block from where I work. Here’s a little video tour of the one in Burbank, CA…
I’ve been drinking an Squishee a day since Monday…eventually these collector’s items will be worth…at least half of what we over-zealous nuts are paying for them.
TUESDAY: I’ll just say it…I went to Drag Bingo. My friend Allyson wanted to go for her birthday, so a group of us headed down to Club Chaos in Dupont Circle for bingo…hosted by drag queens. Drag bingo. Sure, it sounds like fun. That’s what we thought too, but there wasn’t quite enough bingo and it was kind of a drag. I never thought I’d leave a place saying, “If they only played more bingo…” We played 4 games total in about 3 hours time, the balance of which was taken up by our three hosts strutting their…*ahem*…stuff and essentially demanding dollar bills. One guy looked like a Klingon in an evening gown. Another actually had boobs, showcasing the kind of plastic surgery that harkened back to this scene…
Of the three of them, only the Tina Turner look-a-like displayed any real showpersonship.
THUNDERDOME!! She entered. We left.It was just plain odd. Now let us never speak of it again.
To be continued…
Hey there ‘Redheads… Long time, no type. Sorry about that. Summertime, and the living is easy and whatnot. Luckily, the blog lag has given me a backlog of crap to spread on cracker and feed you (yummy). So far, June has been a pretty clean month for me, in that it’s been uncontaminated by comedy work. Business picks up in July and August. For your stalking convenience, feel free to print this on the back of a t-shirt…
July 13-14 @ the Funny Farm in Youngstown, OH
July 19-21 @ the Baltimore Comedy Factory
July 27 @ the Mid-Atlantic Comedy Smorgasbord in Frederick, MD
August 10-11 @ Cozzy’s in Newport News, VA
August 24-25 @ Banana’s in Hasbrouck Heights, NJ
Follow me like Phish…I’ll try to fit in a 30 minute jam session somewhere during my show.
Where do I begin… Well, let me start off by saying to anyone who was on I-95S between Delaware and Baltimore on Sunday night, FUCK YOU, YOU BRAKE TAPPING WINDOW LICKERS. Allow me to elaborate. I was on my way home from an extended visit with my impossibly cute nephew, Mo (pictures soon to follow) up in Philly. I was caught in the expected snarl of traffic that bottle necks at the toll right as you get out of Delaware. I was passing the time by doing shadow puppetry on the tailgate of the truck in front of me (that’s what YouTube was when I was a kid…damn whippersnappers). Y’ know that feeling of liberation as you get out of that kind of traffic? You pay the toll and there’s nothing but open road in front of you….BOOOOOOOOOORNNNN FREEEEEEEE…you hit the gas and you feel like Chewie just made the jump to lightspeed as the lane lines blur past you. Cruise control is set, you’re ready to make up some lost time, and then you SLAM ON THE GODDAMN BRAKES because some doddering shmuck is doing 65 in the left lane. Hey, putz in the Chevy Impediment, move over or I’ll find a way through you. If you’re going the speed limit in the left lane of a major thru-way, you’re a hazard. And what’s worse, is these puttering malignancies don’t look in their rear-view mirror, because objects are larger than they appear and they’ll just look like a bigger twit, so they can’t see me closing in. Now, I’m pretty mild when it comes to highway driving…my rule of thumb is 10mph over whatever is posted…not life-threatening. I’m happy to abdicate my patch of pavement if someone is coming up behind me at a faster clip…it’s the courteous thing to do. You move over, the flow of traffic keeps flowing, and everyone’s happy. Instead you get these rolling blockades that tap their brakes like Savion Glover on meth with nothing in front of them but their own bleak futures.
Aaaah…catharsis. Here’s a double dose of cute to take the edge off of that bit of road rage…
Seriously, you can’t dispute the cute of this particular patootie. Much peek-a-boo was played. I got so good at it, that even I didn’t know where I was. For a little while, my parents and I were left with the task of feeding the little guy while mom and dad ran a couple of errands. A sumptuous meal of strained sweet potatoes and vitamin-enriched yogurt was on the menu. We put on his bib and put him in his baby butler and proceeded to make a complete mess trying to guide the nummy nummy airplane into the hangar. We thought we were doing pretty well…until Mo decided it was time to get cranky. Wow, did he pitch a fit…contorting his little face into something out of an Edvard Munch rough draft. So, off with the bib and I picked him up to calm him down…as soon as he was up, he started smiling. The little faker was playing us like a fiddle…or a rattle anyway. So it went. We’d put the bib back on, get a few more spoonfuls in, then he’d wig out and I’d pick him up again. I like the kid’s policy…eat ’til you cry. Try it sometime…it takes longer as an adult.
Before I forget, I’d like to extend a big thanks to the fine folks at the DC Improv for including me in their first ever Variety Showcase. It featured stand-up, improv, sketch, and multi-media comedic endeavors. They showcased two of the videos that I did with comic compadre, Chris White. It was very cool to see Never Can Say Goodbye and Good Directions (both conveniently linked to your right) played in front of a nearly packed house and hearing them laugh loudly. Warmed my cockels. The evening was hosted by international raconteurs, Larry Poon and Jim Marsdale. Good guys. Larry had a bra thrown at him. It was that kind of night.
Also, please join me in wishing a bon voyage to the man of 1000 voices (and at least 5 kinds of facial hair), Danny Rouhier, who’s heading off to seek his fortune in the Big Apple. Fear not, though, he’ll be popping back up in the area…like funny herpes. The DC area will get flare ups over the coming months, but shouldn’t stop us from canoeing or hot-air ballooning or biking. Although, we should be more careful, seeing as how we just gave him to NY. We’re a dirty dirty comedy community. Supportive, but dirty…we should get checked out. I had the pleasure of seeing Danny off at a little not-quite-surprise get together over the weekend. Jay Hastings, Kojo Mante, Larry Poon, and myself represented the comedy circle of Danny’s massive Venn diagram of friends. One of the larger circles in there was of chicas mas caliente. In a sea of hot ladies, we were an island of awkwardness. It was like a study in social dysfunction. We just found a patch of floor and huddled around it while we drank and talked shit. Somebody intervene.
By the way, if you’re not busy this Thursday night, go check out the debut of a brand new comedy showcase in Adams Morgan, cleverly titled The Bomb Shelter. It’s at 18th & Red. It’ll feature 4 or 5 of the area’s best doing solid 15 minute sets. I’m not sure what time it starts, but 8 is a safe bet. Best of all, it’s FREE. So, your good time is guaranteed or…your…time back. I’ll get to work on the flux capacitor, you just go have a good time.
That’s all for now. I’ll try not to keep you waiting for the next one. If we don’t talk before the holiday, may the 4th be with you.
To be continued…
Hey there ‘Redheads… Welcome to the third Blogado Gigante, where I try to cram roughly 6 1/2 pounds of crap into this 5 pound bag I call a blog. This one’ll be chock full of derring do, funny video, and even a few words strung together into coherent sentences (only the best for you). This will probably be the last B.O.U.S. (blog of unusual size) for a little while, mostly because the well of interesting things, where most blog-worthy items are kept (constantly rubbing the lotion on their skin…), is looking kind of dry for the remainder of June. Savor this bucket, is all I’m sayin‘. Anyway, now that the obligatory excusions are out of the way…on to the fiesta.
First of all, a hearty congratulations to my comedy compatriot, Chris White, on his network television debut on last night’s premiere episode of NBC’s Last Comic Standing. They gave him some boku freckled face time in the NY segment. Not only did they feature his audition, but he was given a couple behind-the-scenes confessional moments too. If you didn’t catch the show, fear not, they’re rerunning it Sunday night at 9:00…and, like any NBC reality show, it’ll be running on a friggin‘ loop on Bravo between Kathy Griffin specials and Inside the Actors Studio. First NBC’s Last Comic Standing…HBO’s Real Sex can’t be far behind. It’s been cool to see some locals on a national stage. Rory Scovel recently rocked Comedy Central’s Live at Gotham. And, you can see Danny Rouhier in theaters everywhere this weekend as The Human Torch in Fantastic Four 2: Rise of the Silver Surfer…
So, on Sunday, I checked another item off my 100 Things To Do Before I Die list… I hang-glid…hang-glode…hang-glidded…strapped myself to a kite at 2500 feet (I’ll learn how to conjugate it at some point). Sweet buttery Jesus, was it fun. Exhilarating…like, Sprite commercial refreshing. Now, when I signed up for this little excursion, my knowledge of the activity was pretty basic…hold on to this big-ass paper airplane and jump off a cliff. Luckily, there’s a bit more to it than that, including a sleeping bag-like safety harness. I was also wrong about how to start gliding. Instead of jumping off a precipice, you get towed by a mini-plane. It’s as cool as it sounds. Unfortunately, the on-board cameras were on the fritz, so I didn’t get any in-flight pics, but here’s a look at the prep for take-off and after the landing…
It was a 15 or so minute flight, complete with a lesson in steering (which is surprisingly easy). I recommend this to everybody. It’s seven kinds of awesome. Do yourself a favor and check out the guys at Highland Aerosports, you won’t regret it.
On Saturday, I made a reluctant return to a venue I played about three years ago, when I was first dipping my toe into the bitter cold lake of road comicry. It’s a one-nighter on the outskirts of Baltimore in Brooklyn, MD. When I did this gig last time, I was a jittery MC who was out of his depth when faced with a crowd who wasn’t exactly into subtlety. It was a freakin‘ mouth-breathers convention…a 10 minute long turdburger of a set as my punchlines flew over their heads and splatted on the back wall. So, when I got the call to go back as the middle act, I didn’t relish the idea of hitting the potential 30 minute turd buffet that lay ahead. When I got there, I surveyed the room, a quaint little hall, seating about 100 folk. Upon first inspection, they seemed like they had a good collective head on their shoulders. My bewilderment was slowly subsiding, but I still kept my expectations limbo-champion low. Then I got a chance to meet the other comics on the bill, Ray Culver, Joe Fulton, and the headliner, Johnny Watson. As we made small talk, I found that he was in the same mind set that I was, ending every other exchange with the phrase, “Well, we’ll see how they are…” The show started and the MC got things off to an expected tepid start, mostly because he was focusing less on material and more on engaging people in conversation. He finished well, and then handed things off to me. Whatever I was expecting was flipped on its ear in a Twilight Zone ending of a reversal. These people were great. They laughed at everything, from the excremental to the semantic, with zeal. And not only were they a fun crowd, but they bought 7 CDs. Goes to show you never can tell…just do your act and have fun.
Like most of you, I like me weird sports names. The best example being offensive tackle, D’Brickashaw Ferguson of the NY Jets. Well, I found a new gem in the world of baseball. Boof Bonser. I think he’s a pitcher for Cleveland. Boof. Five bucks says this dude is Australian. The same people who brought you Yahoo Serious. He’s onomatopoeia. Apparently, his parents were fans of the 60’s Batman TV show. Just ask his sister, Kazowie.
Before I close up the blog shop, here are a couple moving pictures for your retinal pleasure…
This first one is for the Monty Python fans out there. This is a brilliant premise for a video prank. The set-up is included in the video, but it’s an ingenious reversal of fortune against those Nigerian scam artists that pollute the internet. Check it out…
The second is the latest video collaboration with the aforementioned Chris White (our other vids are conveniently linked to your right). It involves a first date and an in-dash navigation system…a sure-fire comedy combo. Trust me, it’s funny…and short. Please to be hitting the left click and enjoying Good Directions…
To be continued…
Hey there, ‘Redheads… I hope everyone had a great couple of weekends. The details of mine are forthcoming. Lucky for the both of us, they might actually be worth a glance. This installment is chock full of positive mojo…so, feel free to grab a little vicarious pick-me-up. For those of you keeping track, we’ll be working backwards from this past weekend. And away we go…
Big thanks to Vera, John, Pat and the rest of the great staff of Banana’s Comedy Club in Poughkeepsie, NY. I had the distinct pleasure of working with Joe Devito and fellow local funnyman, Big Al Goodwin. The club has been around in various locations since 1984, and a lot of big time comedy stars have passed through their doors. And, like any established club, every once and awhile a big name will stop by for a guest set. Friday night was one of those once in awhiles, when former SNL’er Jimmy Fallon popped in with his guitar to strum his new song, Car Wash For Peace, the proceeds of which benefit the troops. My opinion of Mr. Fallon has increased exponentially. He stayed for the whole show, stuck around to take pictures, and he insisted on buying my and Al’s CD…paying with a $20 and refusing change. I signed the CD, “Jimmy, I have a feeling you’re going to make it…” (and I slipped in a business card).
To kill time on Saturday, Al and I went mall-walking. A couple observations… Did you know Best Buy sold books? Maybe out of guilt. Seems to me that Best Buy trafficks in the downfall of the written word. It’s like selling baby rattles at an abortion clinic (that was harsh). Y’know what’d be the perfect book for Best Buy…a high-definition dictionary.
Generally, mall-walking is supposed to burn calories, but all that was shot to hell when we happened upon a girl scout troop peddling their boxes of crunchy goodness. Nothing brightens your day like the chocolate encrusted smile that comes from eating a sleeve of Thin Mints, which should be the serving size, by the way.
After we got done at the galleria, we drove a bit further down the road to the local ghetto mall, where they had a rare sight in these times of bloated overpriced movie megaplexes, the $2 theatre. We checked out 300 with the appropriate level of expectations, since we didn’t blow a 10 spot on a ticket. I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t the kind of mind-blowing cinematic experience some people made it out to be. It was like Gladiator meets Braveheart meets a Tae-Bo workout tape…and one, and spear-thrust, and two, and SPARTA!! Abs you could grate cheese on…sheesh. Leonidas was a great king for one reason and one reason only…Sparta had an amazing dental plan.
Belated congratulations to all those who participated in the showcase finals at the DC Improv last week. It was a solid show, top to bottom. Pete Bergen, Kojo Mante, Tim Miller, John McBride, Jason Weems, Aparna Nancherla, and Mike Way kept the stream of funny steady and strong. Any one of five different people could’ve taken home the grand prize without any dispute. That distinction went to Mike Way. After the show, a bunch of us went to Lucky Bar and ended up tipping back a few with some of the Improv staff at the outdoor portion of the bar, where the comedy of DC drunken street-life picked up the slack after the show was over. The shadow-boxing homeless guy opened for the emergency vehicles responding to an incident inside the posh club next door. As soon as the ambulance pulled up, our table took odds on whether the drunk idiot being rescued was a guy or a girl. We seriously took a collection of $5 bets from everyone at the table who picked one or the other. When a girl was escorted out with her head bandaged, we applauded wildly, clinked our glasses, and divied up our meager winnings. The next act was a drunk who stumbled out of the club, one step shy of declaring himself a golden god, and stood about a foot away from one of the responding police cars, with his arms outstretched…almost like he was challenging his reflection. He was promptly put in a choke hold by one of his buddies, trying to keep him from being arrested. They were both cited. Good times.
Speaking of which, big thanks to Allyson, Red, Michelle, and rest of the awesome peeps at the DC Improv for an amazing slate of shows with Louis CK. Holy crap. Six straight sold out crowds. I was spoiled rotten, what with all the laughter and whatnot. Those of you who’ve had the pleasure have seen the “Wall of Shame” that is scrawled with sharpie comedian graffiti…essentially “I was here” stuff. On the lower plank, someone wrote, “You probably won’t make it, but that’s ok…” Why I found this oddly comforting, I have no idea, but it seemed to help me loosen up. It was awesome to watch Louis CK work night to night. And when he wasn’t working on-stage, he was busy editing a TV show or a previous night’s set on his Mac in the green room. I supposed it shouldn’t have taken me this long to realize that we’re at work when we do these gigs, and he takes it seriously. I talked to him maybe once or twice during the weekend, but I didn’t want to bother him. I also had the pleasure of working with Joe Bublewiscz (pronounced Bubble-witz). This weekend also marked a new beginning for me in the technological landscape…I renounced my Amish tendencies and finally bought a damn video camera. I put this on the last teaser blog, but here again is a short clip from one of my sets from that weekend…
Once I get a little more familiar with the editing program, I’ll start doing videoblogs and other projects. If you could pretend to care, it would be greatly appreciated. By the way, if you missed it last time, please to check out my horrible overacting in the latest comedic collaboration with Chris White, The Best Medicine…
Make sure to check out Owen Wilson stunt double, Rory Scovel, in his television debut on Comedy Central’s Live at Gotham this Friday night. Click the link for a sneak peek.
To be continued…
JARED STERN'S ONLINE COMEDY CUBICLE 