Don’t Have a Title… I Should Join The Heat…

by jaredsterncomedy, posted in AA-12, comedy, http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post, Jared Stern, Larry Hagman, LeBron James, Miami Heat, NWO, Predators, solar

Hey there ‘Redheads… Welcome back to your nearly weekly dose of flim-flammery. I bring you reheated news that’s been piling up whilst I twiddle my thumbs and wait for the other eight fingers to muster up the energy to get typing. For example, did you guys hear that LeBron is joining D-Wade and Chris Bosh in Miami? I know! Why do they keep these things from us? A lot of clever names are being bandied about as the sports world tries to figure out what to call this new power trio: The 3 My-Egos, Miami Thrice, The Yankees. All of them are good tries, but I know what I’ll be calling them. The N.W.O. Check out this video from WCW’s 1996 Bash At The Beach. As my comedy buddy, Ryan Conner, pointed out, it completely parallels the Lebron situation, right down to the fan outrage…

Even if you’re not a fan of wrestling, the similarities are eerie. I’m hoping this new storyline will make next year’s NBA season halfway interesting. And LeBron better smack Kobe upside the head with a steel chair.

Speaking of fan outrage, I’d like to express a little of my own about Predators. I had fooled myself into thinking that my expectations were lower than Verne Troyer looking for a missing contact lens, but in my heart of hearts, I wanted this movie to be good. The Predator franchise deserved a decent sequel. And they got us fanboys all in a lather because the called it Predators, so it’ll be like Aliens was to Alien, right? And they lied to us in the previews by giving us WTF shots like this…Turns out, that bad ass shot isn’t even in the movie. It was just shot for the preview. And all of the action scenes in the last half of the movie are shot in the dark, so you can’t make out what the hell is going on. What should have been a great fight between a Yakuza killer with a samurai sword and a Predator, ended up being so muddled it wouldn’tve made it past the cutting room for Power Rangers. For those of you who haven’t seen it, the premise is basically that the best killers from our world (and Topher Grace) are air dropped onto an alien planet that serves as a Predator hunting ground. My big complaint for the movie as a whole was that the filmmakers took it for granted that we know how the Predators operate and do nothing to establish their tactics or technology. In the first Predator, you got to see Ahnold noodle things through, adapt to his dire situation, and match wits with the Predator. In this one, they just shoehorned in a final confrontation with Adrien Brody spouting lines from the first movie out of context, just to get a rise out of us. There were so many forced call backs, you might as well have just had the cast of this film reminisce about the first one. Also, and this was a major missed opportunity, they did NOTHING to acknowledge the firepower that Adrien Brody was packing. His character had an AA-12. Just watch…

It makes the mini-gun Jesse Ventura was toting look like a super soaker. There are a host of other things wrong with the flick but, long story short, save your money. If you want to see a great character-driven monster movie, go watch Aliens or Pitch Black.

Here’s an item that caught my eye…

Larry Hagman of ‘Dallas’ fame becomes the new face of SolarWorld – Actor Larry Hagman was all about petroleum when he played oil magnate J.R. Ewing in television’s long running “Dallas” series. These days, he’s pitching solar energy with a new slogan — “Shine, baby, shine,” — soon to air on a television near you. Hagman is the face of a new ad campaign for SolarWorld.

This story struck me because… Larry Hagman is still alive? Forget pushing solar energy, I thought he was pushing daisies five years ago. He’s probably advocating solar energy out of self-preservation, since he could be used as fossil fuel. Also, I think this is the face I’d want selling my product…Use solar energy or Larry Hagman will swallow your soul.

Wow, I haven’t even gotten to my fever dream of a trip to Natural Bridge, VA. It deserves it’s own blog, but I can tease you with this in the meantime…

To be continued…

Independent Thought

by jaredsterncomedy, posted in comedy, Conan O'Brien, funny, http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post, Jared Stern, jokes, LeBron James

Hey there ‘Redheads… I hope everyone got through the 4th of July weekend with all of their extremities intact. Nothing says American freedom like setting off enough Chinese fireworks to have won the goddamn Revolutionary War in the first place. I think it’s kinda poetic, because in 100 years, we’ll declare financial independence from the Chinese by dumping a payload of sparklers into the Yangtze. Oh, the sense that could make. Speaking of the future of our American history textbooks, I hope everyone has set aside the time to watch the big LeBron James one-hour television extravaganza on ESPN tomorrow night. I know I can’t wait to find out where a 25 year-old will be making $100 million. Unless he chooses the winning city by throwing darts at a map, or he says that his Nike puppet will play his away games, or he reveals that he’s signing with the Washington Redskins, there isn’t a pie chart in the world that could accurately display just how little I care. Go where you will, win something, and shut the fuck up. I’m also glad the World Cup is just about done. It’s the wooden shoes and tulips versus empanadas and rain that stays mainly on the plain. Whoever wins, you can be assured their celebrations will be drowned out by the locust mating call of the vuvuzelas…

Over the weekend, I had to settle a small matter of comedy unpleasantness that came to my attention when I was driving home from the show in Maine. That Sunday was the night of the big TBS comedy special that featured the writers of the new Conan O’Brien Show. As it turns out, one of the writers, a comic named Josh Comers, does a joke about removing the analogies from the SATs that is identical to my joke about removing the analogies from the SATs. I went through my old VHS tapes of my early open mic sets and found an instance of me telling the joke from October of 2002…

Obviously, it’s more polished now and I was telling it to a grand total of about 7 people in that clip, but there it is. Unfortunately, the TBS video isn’t embeddable, but here’s the link to the special (skip to part 5, the joke is at the 2:40 mark…sorry about all the Twix commercials). I wanted to get in touch with him, so I did what anyone does these days, I looked him up on Facebook. This was our correspondence…

Hey there Josh…

I’m a comic out of DC who’s been performing about 8 years now in clubs around the country. On my way home from a gig last Sunday night, I get a call from a comedy buddy of mine who tells me to “turn on TBS right now.” I wasn’t able to then, but I’ve looked at the video online and you tell a joke that’s identical to one I’ve been telling since 2003. It’s the joke about taking the analogies out of the SATs. Same delivery. Same punch. I’m not accusing you of anything. I hope it’s just a case of parallel thinking and a good sign I could write for Conan someday. It was just a kick in the teeth hearing one of my favorite jokes being told on TV by someone who isn’t me.

–Jared Stern

Hey Jared. I absolutely cringed reading your message. As a comic, there’s nothing worse than feeling like one of your favorite jokes may have been ripped off.

Jared, I can assure you that this is a case of parallel thinking. I can’t pinpoint the exactly how long I’ve been doing the joke without going back and listening to cassettes, but I’ve been doing it for many years myself. No one has ever come up to me and said, “I heard someone else doing that joke”. If they did, I probably would have kicked the wall then stopped doing the joke, unless I could be certain I came up with it first.

I pride myself on my joke writing and being original. Good jokes are precious. I would never lift a joke one from another comic and have zero respect for anyone that does.

I appreciate your very reasoned tone about this. I hope what I’ve written here allays any suspicions and we can agree that this is one of those cases of parallel thinking.

Okay. So, where do we go from here?

Josh

That is a fine question, Josh… I guess I’ll be the one to give it up. You did it on TV, so anyone who sees me tell it from now on will think I cribbed it from the TBS special. It is on my CD, by the way, which isn’t exactly burning up the charts, but I sell it on the road.

It stinks, but it just confirms that I need to write more. Sorry to bug you about it. Good luck with the show.

–Jared

Jared, this may be ridiculous, but what if we both continued to do it from time to time? The fact is, for now, I’m pretty much anchored here in LA, and you’re on the road. I bet there’s likely a very small cross section of people who will see us both do that joke.

I’d understand if you’re resigned to dropping it, but I don’t know if it’s totally necessary right now. Hell, if we both drop it we may be motivated to write a joke of equal quality. Either way, I’m thinking I probably won’t do it as much given the situation.

I had totally forgotten that a similar thing happened to me once years ago. I was watching an old friend do a set on Letterman and he did a bit I’d been doing for a while. I had to stop doing the bit. While I’m guessing he’d seen me do it at some point, I never confronted him on it because he was a good guy who I didn’t think would never lift anything intentionally. Maybe he just absorbed it? Anyway, it still sucked.

In the mean time, let’s both write more stand up jokes. Just not the same ones.

Happy 4th.

Josh

Long story short, I’m probably going to drop it. Hopefully, the next time I manage to parallel a late night comedy writer, it can be in career trajectory.

To be continued…

Maine Lining

by jaredsterncomedy, posted in comedy, funny, http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post, Jared Stern, PortCon

Hey there, ‘Redheads… From time to time I bring you news from the far away lands that I’m paid to bring mirth to. Well, last weekend I hitched the Mild Amusement Express to the tauntaun of the Geek Comedy Tour to trek up to Maine to play PortCon 2010 with geek jesters, Jake Young and Chris Barylick. The GCT specializes in turning the tables on society’s natural instinct to give wedgies to the uber-nerds among us and instead relates to them with professional grade inside jokes. PortCon is an Anime/Sci-fi convention that gives all of the kids that spent most of high school inside their lockers a safe haven to let their geek flags fly with impunity. These are the kind of people who know that Newton’s 1st Law of Motion is, “Do not talk about Newton’s Laws of Motion.” The inside of that hotel looked like a Hot Topic (and in many cases, a Torrid) exploded. It was Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas if Hunter S. Thompson played Dungeons & Dragons and Dr. Gonzo watched Pokemon…
You may be saying to yourself, “Jared, you’re not a geek. How ever did you manage to blend in?” Surprisingly well…
When it comes to geek world, I’m a daywalker of sorts (which is enough of a dork reference to give me away). It wasn’t so long ago that I attended a convention like this, with my bag of dice and my tattered character sheets. Actually, it pains me just how long ago it was. Back in my day, we flocked to the room full of 386’s to gawk at Castle Wolfenstein. These kids have networked PS3’s for Super Street Fighter 4 tournaments. I entered one of these tourneys to test the myth of my skillz. I was promptly bounced like Mel Gibson at Jay-Z’s BET Awards after-party. I button mashed valiantly, but I was no match for these whippersnappers who could pull off unblockable super combos like you or I check our email. I have a pretty good base knowledge of the geek world, but I was further out of touch than my ironic Star Wars t-shirt let on.

Our show was on Sunday afternoon in the giant outdoor tent that held the techno dance party the night before. What does a techno dance party at a geek convention look like, you ask? A little like this…

We got a huge crowd in there to see us, thanks in part to the impromptu flyers that Jake made up…
Roughly 200 eager geeks poured into the tent to check us out. My one big regret was not taking pictures during the show, but trust me, we were goddamn rock stars. I’ve done one other geek event with these guys, and I can honestly say that geek crowds are my favorite. They’re smart and they like to fill silences with applause. God (or whoever has their back) bless ’em every one.

I’ve got more from this trip, but it’s getting late, so I’ll get back to this soon.

To be continued…

Vu Vu, Zela…

by jaredsterncomedy, posted in comedy, funny, http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post, Jared Stern, soccer, vuvuzela

Hey there, ‘Redheads… I hope you’ve got better things to do with yourself on a Friday night than I do. Here I sit, slaving over a lukewarm keyboard, so I can deliver a reheated batch of cobbled together Facebook status updates. The evening hasn’t been a complete waste. I was inexplicably possessed with the urge to take a roughly three mile stroll. I think I sprained a sweat. What cured me of my case of Restful Leg Syndrome? Maybe I’m just pumped up about the Wild World of Cup…

Have you caught World Cup fever? I’m not sure what I’ve caught just yet. Maybe it’s World Cup whooping cough. All I know is, now that the NBA has finished up, I’m ready for some futbol. Cue Hank Williams Jr. All my rowdy friends are here for…Friday morning. I was a little torn about today’s game between USA and Slovenia. Of course I was rooting for the home squad, but I felt a certain kinship with the Slovenians. I’ve often been called “slovenly”. And WOOHOO! A 2-2 tie! Yeah! Go team! Way to…finish the way you started. If there’s one lesson I’ve learned so far watching these games it’s, “Take the under.” I’ve seen more scoring at the Amish Star Trek convention after party. I suppose I’m like most Americans. We want action. Our eyes are trained to enjoy stuff like this (WARNING: If you’re epileptic, grab a spoon)…

Whatever your opinion of the action, you have to respect what these athletes are able to do on the pitch, especially when they’re surrounded on all sides by a giant swarm of bees. What’s that? Oh, right. That incessant buzzing is the South African ricola horn, the vuvuzela. Is it just me or does “vuvuzela” sound like the name of Jerry’s girlfriend in the Telemundo Seinfeld episode where her name rhymed with a female body part? It actually reminds me of being on the floor of the World Series of Poker a couple years ago. All you could hear was 800 players continuously shuffling chips. It sounded like it was raining. So, a lone vuvuzela probably isn’t so bad. A couple thousand of them and it sounds like you’ve got a blown speaker on your TV for the whole game.

Speaking of unbridled noisy patriotism, remove your hat and check out this ode to the American spirit…

If that doesn’t get you juiced up to watch our boys leave their cleat marks in another nation’s behind, then move to Russia.

That’s all for now. To be continued…

Double Double…

by jaredsterncomedy, posted in comedy, funny, Helen Thomas, http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post, Jared Stern, Strasburg, The Goonies

Hey there ‘Redheads… I just got done watching Stephen Strasburg’s debut for the Washington Nationals. The kid’s got a cannon for an arm. One thing I don’t get about baseball tradition. Why in the hell would you smear a shaving cream pie in the face of your new stud pitcher after the game? “Great game, rookie.” “GAH! MY EYES!” Why don’t you give him a celebratory cleated stomp on the hand while you’re at it. I’m not saying a pie in the face isn’t a great way to welcome a rookie, but why not use an actual cream pie? Embarrassing AND delicious.

As you know, many jokes come at another person’s expense. Some have smaller accounts to draw from and some can pay for years of ridicule. This installment of the blog is going to be making a withdrawal from the bank of Helen Thomas. Don’t know who that is? Well, here’s a picture to help you out…No, wait, that’s not her. Here ya go…No, that’s still not right. Here it is…She recently retired over some controversial comments she made about the Israelis and Palestine and mentioning that they should go back to Germany and Poland…on camera…to a Rabbi. Any time you tell a race of people to go back where they came from or make a vague reference to the Holocaust, it’s not going to end well. Helen was a fixture in the White House press room, and by “fixture”, I mean she had taken root over the 50 years she’d been there. It’s not clear whether she’ll be returned to Jim Henson’s Creature Shop or if she’ll look into a lucrative career spinning straw into gold. Is she even retiring or did someone finally just say her name backwards three times? She makes an English bulldog look like Joan Rivers. At this point, I figured the White House spokespeople were only answering her questions because they thought she would allow them to cross her bridge. After such a long stretch, she’ll probably just return home and spend more time gardening and frightening the crap out of her grandchildren. Or she may sublet your nightmares. Surreal estate, I guess. Anyway, Helen, I hear Poland or Germany are nice this time of year.

Also, a belated happy 25th anniversary to one of my favorite movies, The Goonies. Have a Baby Ruth and go exploring. Or do the Truffle Shuffle. Unfortunately, I’m much better equipped to do that dance now than when I was 10. Check this out. Apparently, there’s a deleted scene from the end of the flick where the gang fend off a giant octopus…

Finally, a very happy birthday to my impossibly cute niece, Riva…She’s the big 0-2 today. I look forward to sharing a Fudgy the Whale with her this weekend. There’s a nice visual lime wedge to bite into after the bitter tequila shot of Helen Thomas, eh?

To be continued…

Remember

by jaredsterncomedy, posted in comedy, Dennis Hopper, Gary Coleman, http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post, Jared Stern, memorial day, Rue McClanahan

Hey there ‘Redheads… I hope everyone had a memorable Memorial Day weekend. I managed to get three bbqs under my belt. Good food + good friends = good times. It was not a good weekend for the world of pop culture iconography, as we lost another pair, Gary Coleman and Dennis Hopper. Both were disappointing, but not shocking. Hopper had been battling cancer and Coleman just seemed to be cursed.

When I heard that Gary Coleman passed, I did two things. First, I braced for the tidal wave of incessant parroting of his catch phrase, “What’choo talkin’ ’bout, Willis?” Second, I hopped on IMDB to check out what else, besides Diff’rent Strokes, he’d been in. When I clicked on his page, there were a couple related articles regarding the fall that led to his critical condition. One of the headlines caught my eye. It read, “Coleman’s Diff’rent Strokes Dad ‘Praying’ For Star.” I didn’t know what was more shocking, that Gary Coleman was dead or that Conrad Bain was alive. Then I found out that Charlotte Rae was also on the right side of the dirt. Somebody check on Danny Cooksey…Turns out, Danny Cooksey was John Connor’s redhead delinquent pal in Terminator 2. Nice to see he found work. But I digress.

Next to go was movie legend, Dennis Hopper. My first introduction to Hopper was as the nutty hippie science teacher in the sci-fi classic, My Science Project. Do yourself a favor and rent it, if you can even find it on DVD. I never saw Easy Rider, but I loved him in Blue Velvet and Speed. I’ll do the man a favor and not sully his memory by mentioning Waterworld or Super Mario Brothers. As a tribute to Mr. Hopper, please to enjoy one of the greatest scenes on film, between he and Christopher Walken, in True Romance…

And now, because the rule of three must be satisfied (though technically it’s four, because Dio started the new cycle), we lost yet another Golden Girl, Rue McClanahan. I picture Betty White holding a sword aloft as lightning coarses through the blade… There can be only one! We need to be mindful of this precious natural resource that is slowly fading away. Without the beloved celebrities from our youth, what will we ironically reference? So, treasure the Betty Whites and the Abe Vigodas while they’re still here to be in Snickers commercials because pretty soon, that’s all we’ll have to remember them by…

Arnold Jackson, Clifford Worley, and Blanche Devereaux, you will be missed.

To be continued…

Closure

by jaredsterncomedy, posted in 24, American Idol, comedy, finales, funny, http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post, Jack Bauer, Jared Stern

Hey there ‘Redheads… Welcome to the eagerly anticipated season finale of the blog, where all of your questions will be answered. Questions like, “Seriously?” or “Really?” or “No, seriously, really?” One question I’d love to answer is why I put off fixing the air conditioning in my black truck. It hit 90+ degrees today and I’m pretty much driving a solar panel with cup holders. I tried to beat the heat with a frosty float, but that melted faster than that guy’s face at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. I’m here to wrap up all of the nebulous minutiae into a neat little package. I feel like I’ve got to keep pace with the Fantasia broomstick army of finales that’ve ambled down the pike over the last week, each carrying its own bucket to douse our expectations. I had varying degrees of emotional stakes in the big three tv finales of Lost, 24, and American Idol. I’ve seen maybe 3 episodes of Lost, I’m a huge fan of 24, and I always seem to get sucked into American Idol.

Like I mentioned, I had no idea what was going on with Lost, outside of the fact that there was a bunch of them marooned on an island. For all I knew, the Professor was going to make an airplane out of coconuts just as the Harlem Globetrotters arrived. My thinking was, if I caught the last 15 minutes of the finale, everything would be made clear. I could get the payoff without the five year emotional investment in the characters. No fuss, no muss. The person who got a payoff was M. Night Shamylan, who apparently sold the ending of The Sixth Sense to the show’s writers. So, they were all dead. The whole time. The island was some kind of purgatory. They’ve been blowing the smoke monster up the viewer’s ass for five years. They could’ve pulled the plug on this thing at any point during the five year run and played the “They’re Dead” card. Like I said, I’m not pissed about it, because I’ve spent about three hours with this show, but there are some fanatics out there who have a few more questions…
http://www.collegehumor.com/moogaloop/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=1936291&fullscreen=1

After the Lost dud, I dusted off the edge of my seat to gear up for the last two hours of the last very bad day for Mr. Jack Bauer. I’ve been all-in with 24 since the very beginning. Jack had me at, “You probably don’t think that I can force this towel down your throat. But trust me, I can. All the way. Except I’d hold onto this one little bit at the end. When your stomach starts to digest it, I pull it out. Taking your stomach lining with it. For most people it would take about a week to die. It’s very painful.” Bad. Ass. I’ve seen Jack tear out a terrorist’s jugular with his teeth, fake his own death, and tangle with just about every cast member of RoboCop. My friends and I have made two 24 fan films (feel free to watch Guys Watching 24 I & II, conveniently linked to your right…I’ll wait). So, with a heavy heart, I watched Jack take down a presidency for the greater good one last real time. The 24 finale pistol whipped Lost in the catharsis department. Everyone got what was coming to them. I especially loved seeing President Logan put a cowardly bullet in his brain as his world crumbled around him. Very Shawshank. And at the last real minute, Jack was saved for the greater good…the 24 movie. Which will hopefully be in 12 parts. Otherwise, you can only call it 2…or 2 1/2. Jack, you have the thanks of a grateful nation.

Last night, I checked out the culmination of weeks of semi-decent elimination karaoke to crown a new American Idol. And it was craptastic. In one corner was the dry white toast of Lee DeWyze versus the clearly more talented 5th Non-Blonde, Crystal Bowersox. The evening was duet after duet with some crusty rock legend. Seacrest might as well have cracked open a sarcophagus for some of these acts. Joe Cocker? That’s the target demo you’re shooting for? He looked like he was just barely getting by with a little help from his friends. They also devoted some time to some Simon Cowell retrospective, since he was leaving the show. My favorite moment of the night cam during an attempted roast of Cowell by none other than Dane Cook. He had a guitar of his own and was singing a ditty comprised of insults that Simon had hurled at the most delusional of the contestants he’s heard. Then, in a decision the producers would later regret, they let a bunch of these lunatics on stage to dance around. Long story short, Cook had his mic stolen by another idiot who thought he was being funny.

I haven’t seen Iron Man 2 yet, but if it’s half as cool as this, I’m in…

To be continued…

Running Joke

by jaredsterncomedy, posted in comedy, http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post, Jared Stern, running, Survive DC, tag

Hey there, ‘Redheads… I had high hopes to have this to you yesterday, but I fell asleep in my papasan chair with my feet up while watching 24. Men plan. The papasan laughs. I had good reason to have my feet up, because I have shin splints. “Shin splints?” you ask incredulously, “But silly Jared, you can only get those from running. And you don’t run.” Well, under normal circumstances, you’d be right. I normally don’t run, mostly because I’m getting winded typing this, but this past Saturday, I ran the gamut of running, from a light jog to a full out sprint to doubling over and gasping for breath to begging for death’s sweet embrace (hell, this sentence runs more than I do), because I was being chased. I wasn’t alone. I was one of the 1200+ people who descended on Dupont Circle to take part in Survive DC 2010, essentially a giant game of tag through the streets of DC…It was set up to play out like a zombie outbreak, about 1200 runners being set upon by a handful of chasers. The object is to make it to six checkpoints throughout the city without getting tagged. When the runners get tagged, they become chasers and begin to hunt down other runners, until the numbers get downright overwhelming for the remaining survivors. I was there with some new found friends I met at the zombie walk from the last installment, and comedy super friend, Chris White. Together, we were Team Double Plus Undead. The first checkpoint was near Gallery Place and we were starting at Dupont Circle. While metro travel was allowed, it wasn’t advised since the path of least resistance would be heavily patrolled by chasers. So, when the whistle blew, we took off down Connecticut Ave. After about a block of sprinting, the harsh reality that the tub of goo I call a body wasn’t up to snuff hit me pretty hard. Once we figured out that we had cleared the first wave of chasers, our pace slowed down so I could stumble after the rest of my teammates. We made it to the first checkpoint unscathed, and I quickly took a seat so my insides could take a break from bouncing around. I was pretty much gassed and we had five more checkpoints and roughly six more miles to go. What’s the first rule of Zombieland? Cardio. Note to self: buy canned goods and a shotgun. I did catch a second wind or a second wheeze and we headed off to checkpoint #2, which was near Union Station. And we got pretty close before a nonchalant chaser took us off guard and tagged my whole team…except me. Turns out my flight response is pretty good. Unfortunately, I lollygagged a bit to see what my friends were going to do. That was answered quickly as Chris took off after me. The pursuit did not last long. So, now we were a merry band of chasers with no real pressure on us to run if we didn’t want to. All in all, it was a lot of fun. It’ll be more fun next year, when I actually put in some kind of cardio training. The next morning, I felt like I caught polio. I’m still sore.

A couple chances to point and laugh at me this week… I’ll be at the Baltimore Comedy Factory with my buddy, comedy dynamo, Justin Schlegel from Thursday-Saturday. On Sunday, come check out a fun free show that I’ll be hosting at Union Jack’s in Bethesda. Erik Myers, Mike Way, and Tyler Sonnichsen are on the bill. The show starts at 7:30. DVR Lost and come check us out.

Before I go, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the falling of a Metal God. Ronnie James Dio, the man who is credited with inventing the universal sign for rocking out, the two-finger devil horns, has gone to the great gig in the sky. Look out your window tonight for a rainbow in the dark.

To be continued… Vaya con Dio…

Hi At Us

by jaredsterncomedy, posted in Cinco de Mayo, Elena Kagan, fat, George Romero, http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post

Hey there ‘Redheads… You still out there? It’s me… I know, where the hell have I been? I’ve left you in the digital lurch since mid-March. I was 0-for-April. What can I say? Zyrtec is a hell of a drug. I’d like to take this time to remind all of you to help control the pollen count. Have your trees spayed or neutered. I’ve been pollinated into a slo-mo haze… That, coupled with a work ethic that I lovingly refer to as “slothy,” elevated my already potent powers of procrastination to superhuman levels. I was putting off stuff that had already happened. Seriously, this pollen is slowly choking the life out of me. It’s not so much that I’m allergic, but my lungs are filling up with this crap. But, for you, I’m sucking it up, or as best I can without my lungs seizing up, and getting back on the blog horse. With a week already wasted in May, I figured it was time to brush the dust off and get things back in gear before we reach a point of no return. So, let’s get caught up, shall we?

I’d like to congratulate Horatio Sans on his appointment to the Supreme Court…

Nice to see he found work. I’ve never been very politically minded, but I also never look a gift fat joke in the mouth, lest it try to cram me down its gullet. Anyone else find it mildly ironic that she’ll be casting judgement on the loftiest issues that face us and we’re judging her because she looks like she should have a pet rancor under a trap door in the courtroom? I’m looking forward to the movie version of the Elena Kagan story, Paul Blart: Supreme Court Justice.

Speaking of insatiable hunger, I unfurled my dork flag and participated in a zombie walk back on Cinco de Mayo (I’m glad that Cinco de Mayo fell on May 5th this year). The man who created the zombie movie, George Romero, was in town to unveil his recent undead undertaking, Survival of the Dead. So, a shamble of zombies assembled at the Greene Turtle next to Verizon Center for a bloody good time…
This was my first foray into having a social afterlife, and I was way out of my league in the make up department. I just popped open a fake blood capsule and smeared it all over my face…Not exactly Tom Savini quality, but it got the job done. And, it turns out, it’ll end up in the annals of zombie schlock, because the zombie walkers and I ended up as extras in an independent horror/comedy flick called My Boring Zombie Apocalypse. When portraying the walking dead, I prefer to go the method acting route. Act hungry. When we were done moaning and shuffling through Chinatown, we ended up at the Gallery Place theaters for a screening of Romero’s new movie and a Q & A with the man himself…The movie was just ok for a guy who created the genre. I’ve taken more of a shine to the modern day hardcore sprinter zombies of Zombieland and 28 Days Later that the remake of his Dawn of the Dead begat, so maybe I found his zombies to be old fashioned. Don’t get me wrong, both will use your intestines for bloody Mardi Gras beads, but today’s walking dead don’t make you wait as long.

That’s all for now. More soon. No, seriously. I mean it this time. Wait right here…

Prognostication, Baby…

by jaredsterncomedy, posted in barking, comedy, heckling, http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post, Jared Stern, NCAA, St. Patrick's Day

Hey there, ‘Redheads… I don’t have a clever coherent framework for all of the crap I want to get to in this installment, so pardon me if today’s batch of self-important blather seems a little scatter shot.

I hope everyone has let their livers sleep in a couple hours the last couple days to prepare for the all-day pickling it’s going to get on St. Patrick’s Day. St. Patrick was apparently the patron saint of blacking out and holding your hair while vomiting. I’ve reached that certain age when drinking for distance no longer does anything for me. Sure, I’ll wear some green and kick a ginger, but you won’t see me out at a bar wading through a sea of Guinness. That is ground zero for drunken douchebaggery. I’m Jewish, so I can’t give up crap like that for Lent. The Jewish equivalent would be called Owed, I guess. I’m here all week. Try the fish fillet. But none of that matters, because everyone is Irish on St. Patty’s Day. Even these guys…

I did a show up in Timonium, MD, which was named for the element on the periodic chart that conducts polite chuckling, on Sunday. I encountered the strangest form of heckling I’ve ever received. Towards the end of my set, a couple drunken Timoniites started growling and barking at me, just enough to throw me off my Swiss precision joke rhythm. I tried to ignore it, mostly because addressing it directly meant bringing everything to a screeching halt to deal with people who weren’t going to care or understand what I had to say in response. Plus, on the off chance one of them genuinely had Tourette’s, I didn’t want to look like a dick. I made some lame joke about them eating kibble and shutting the fuck up. Did I mention I’m horrible with hecklers? So many better comebacks showed up late to my brain as I was driving home. “Y’ever see Old Yeller, asshole?” or “Howabout to go back to the bar and sniff your friend’s ass?” or “Play dead.” I just wanted to vent that out, because I’d never heard of anyone growling or barking at a comedian before.

I can’t let that bother me, because it’s the most wonderful time of the year. Tourney Time. The time when my productivity plummets (granted, it doesn’t have far to fall) as I crunch all of the numbers, knowing that my brackets are going to be more brittle than Haiti’s infrastructure. This year, just about anybody can take it. I’m hoping this is the year that a #16 seed beats a #1 seed. And I hope that #1 seed is Duke. So, just to get my picks on record, here are my picks to click for the NCAA Tournament…

-In the Midwest corner of the bracket, where my Terps reside, referred to as the “group of death”, it’s going to come down to the winner of Georgetown vs. Ohio St. I’m a homer, so I picked the Hoyas over the Buckeyes to get to the Final Four. I love my Terps, and I have them making a respectable run to the Sweet 16, but that’s all.
-From the West region, I’ve got Syracuse in a cake walk to the Final Four as the only #1 seed to make it.
-Out of the East, where I have Cornell making it to the Sweet 16, I’ll take Texas to reclaim the perch they got knocked off of early in the season and make it to the Final Four.
-In the South, where I have Duke losing in the second round to Louisville, I think Baylor makes it to the Final Four.
-So, Georgetown faces Syracuse for the fourth time this season with a shot at the national championship on the line and two Texas teams go at it on the other side of the bracket. I’ll take Syracuse vs. Baylor for the championship. Go Orange. Now, look for Syracuse to lose to Vermont.

Let the games begin…