Hello there, folks!
I guess it has been over three months since I did this last. I don't really know why. Stopped thinking about it, I guess. I've been busy, too. I probably wouldn't have either had PacoShack not prodded me ever-so-gently with his genitals. That'll make a man blog, let me tell you.
I am currently in rehearsal for a sketch show I co-wrote. We're The Xanadudes, and please come see us at Gorilla Tango Theater in Chicago Nov. 6, 13, or 20 or all three. Better see all three to catch all the nuance. Our show is fucking hemorrhaging nuance like a bastard. Truly inscrutable. It's like Inception directed by Lars Von Trier starring Crispin Glover.
Anyway, hope it goes well. I'm nervous. I'm in the show a bunch, I have to carry a couple scenes, and I have to sing. If I know me, my pants will fall down at some point. I guess it will add extra comedy, so that works.
I also have a boring corporate job. Looking for something new, kinda.
I live with Madam O now, and a she is a great addition to our apartment and Chicago in general. She may cut a bitch at her job one of these days, and I'll have to bail her out and later help her escape prison, but I will do so without batting an eye. Actually, it sounds like fun. I wish there was someone to have all the fun of committing crime without hurting anyone or suffering consequences. How awesome would it be to be part of a jewel heist? How about shooting a gun at a fast-moving car FROM a fast-moving car? Or perhaps you'd like to cling tenaciously to the landing skids of a helicopter, escaping from police? Or make something blow up real good, distracting the man from your real caper? I digress.
I have also been watching The Wire, which is maybe why I've got crime on the brain. I mean, even in prison Avon eats KFC and plays video games. Three things i've learned from that show so far:
1. McNulty doesn't play by the rules.
2. But dammit, he gets results.
3. The cheese stands alone.
The fuck else have I been doing? I was accepted into the Advanced Writing program at Second City. In like three or four months my class will have produced a show that will be given a four week run at S.C., up on one of their smaller, non-mainstages. Exciting! My current teacher liked my class so much she requested to stay on with us and help us with the show. Flattering!
One of the other students in my writing class and I were talking about how much weight completing the program at SC will actually have. She seems to think she will be able to write her own ticket when it's over. I pretty much think the opposite, I think it will help minimally in terms of getting a job. I hope she's right or that we can at least split the difference. In the meantime, I will continue to produce my own content, put on shows, try to make folks smile and hope that someone wants to pay me to do these things one day.
10.22.2010
7.02.2010
new venture, brother
So, I've decided to try my hand at writing a screenplay. This is what I've got so far. Leave your comments below.
UNTITLED MOVIE
FADE IN:
What do you guys think?
UNTITLED MOVIE
FADE IN:
What do you guys think?
6.22.2010
right quick
i don't get it. just putting this out there, i don't get it, i don't understand how things work. my life up until now has been fakery, i pretend and lie. i haven't learned much of anything that would be practical or applicable to real life. it has left me unable to comprehend many things, but i wouldn't be me otherwise.
if anyone who reads this knows how things (that aren't fucking magnets) work, please get a hold of me. I like me, but I would LOVE to understand a few more things.
Shit's frustrating.
I'm talking about can openers
if anyone who reads this knows how things (that aren't fucking magnets) work, please get a hold of me. I like me, but I would LOVE to understand a few more things.
Shit's frustrating.
I'm talking about can openers
6.21.2010
hello dali
it's so hot i refuse to attempt to uppercase anything. fuck it.
ohio and ann arbor this last weekend. it was a lot of fun, even if I'm starting to feel like a stranger in my hometown. that has nothing to do with the company i enjoyed or anything tangible, really, but i suppose it comes to everyone when they move away. strange feeling.
i really did love seeing everybody, although i never get to really see everybody.
kari's wedding is coming up soon. that really will be the party of the year. kari and jake are doing everything humanly possible to ensure their guests have a blast, while entirely ignoring their love and commitment to one another (kidding, of course).
jake's bachelor party was a huge success in my eyes, and i hope he feels the same way. i didn't really know the other dudes in the wedding party, but i can safely say that they are awesome, and i believe both groom and bride wedding parties are quite the amazing assemblage of folks.
in other news, bg's mosquitoes can go fuck themselves.
time to find a new apartment, one that can accommodate one Kelly Mattimoe. we've been looking, it certainly sounds like we're going to be paying less rent than ever. today i feel like i'd live in a hole in the ground for thousands of dollars if it were somehow air conditioned.
i'm busy trying to generate enough solid material (not a poop joke) to put on a show somewhere in chicago this year. we have a cast, a director and the sketches are almost there. we propose a show to second city next month. failing that, we will rent space elsewhere. it's happening. bet on it.
more visitors to chicago this week. hang on, liver, hang on.
ohio and ann arbor this last weekend. it was a lot of fun, even if I'm starting to feel like a stranger in my hometown. that has nothing to do with the company i enjoyed or anything tangible, really, but i suppose it comes to everyone when they move away. strange feeling.
i really did love seeing everybody, although i never get to really see everybody.
kari's wedding is coming up soon. that really will be the party of the year. kari and jake are doing everything humanly possible to ensure their guests have a blast, while entirely ignoring their love and commitment to one another (kidding, of course).
jake's bachelor party was a huge success in my eyes, and i hope he feels the same way. i didn't really know the other dudes in the wedding party, but i can safely say that they are awesome, and i believe both groom and bride wedding parties are quite the amazing assemblage of folks.
in other news, bg's mosquitoes can go fuck themselves.
time to find a new apartment, one that can accommodate one Kelly Mattimoe. we've been looking, it certainly sounds like we're going to be paying less rent than ever. today i feel like i'd live in a hole in the ground for thousands of dollars if it were somehow air conditioned.
i'm busy trying to generate enough solid material (not a poop joke) to put on a show somewhere in chicago this year. we have a cast, a director and the sketches are almost there. we propose a show to second city next month. failing that, we will rent space elsewhere. it's happening. bet on it.
more visitors to chicago this week. hang on, liver, hang on.
6.09.2010
Ordinary fuckin' people
Today, June 9 in the year of our lord two thousand and ten, was surely the strangest day i can remember. It wasn't strange the whole day through, but the odd things that did happen make me feel like David Lynch is secretly directing my life. Here's how it shook out:
I wake up incredibly late. That is nothing new, but waking up from a NyQuil coma and realizing i have two hours to finish my sketch, shower and eat before i have to leave put me in a strange mood.
I finish the sketch. It's pretty good, I think. I shower and eat a banana on the way to the bus. I'm running late.
On the bus, I sit close enough to a middle-aged woman talking on her phone to hear this shit:
"I'm fucked. Absolutely fucked. I'm talking full reconstructive plastic surgery. It's happened before"
I look at the woman. She looks fine. I'm very curious about the story behind this conversation. Even more so after the following:
"They put glass in my face, glass in my side, glass in my boobs, glass in my (lowers her voice, not nearly enough) vagina..."
My brain short circuits for a moment. When I come to, I look at the woman again. She still looks fine. She gets off the bus and was not walking like a woman hindered by shards of glass in her lady parts. I consider following her around for the rest of the day, but I'm late for class.
I get off the bus at the Sheffield Red-Brown-Purple Line stop, intending on transferring to a train. I don't think I'll make it however, and opt for a taxi.
I hail a taxi and get in, stating my destination. Off we go. The cabbie takes a phone call a minute in. He asks whomever is on the other side "Who's angry? Who's angry?" Then he begins gently singing a lullaby for ten minutes. I pay the man and exit the cab.
Class. Class went really well, my sketch killed and the teacher offered no notes, he just said that it was really good. This isn't strange, I'm merely bragging.
Class continues, it's around nine p.m. and I realize I've only eaten a banana in twenty-four hours. I'm a bit lightheaded, but I plow through and perform in a classmate's sketch in which I'm a homeless guy that gets sat on (it made sense in context). Anyway, class ends.
I grab a sandwich immediately after class, eat it and then I watch student short films back at Second City. It's dark, the films are odd and I feel...off.
I take the train back to Sheffield and just miss my bus. I decide on another cab. Surely there will be no singing this time.
Wrong. My cabbie is Ray St. Ray, The Singing Cabdriver.
http://www.hounddog.tv/artists/raystray/index.htm
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CIkTUEqXiyg
A fucking singing cab driver. And he's kind of famous. And entirely awesome. He's insane in the best possible way. We chat for a bit at first, he's incredibly friendly, he tells some bad jokes, and then he tells me that he is in fact, The Singing Cabdriver. He asks what kind of song I'd like to hear and offers some choices: love, life, sex, etc. I choose love. He asks what kind of love: sentimental, violent, lust, etc. I choose sentimental. He begins fucking singing. He doesn't have the greatest voice, but it's not bad. The song is simple, but poignant. The melody and word choice really got me. I nearly teared up.
He finished and I applauded. He sang another song about "A James Bond Movie that doesn't exist", which was good and really had some creative rhymes. We arrive at my destination. He gives me a flyer for a show he's doing (of course) and I thank him very much. I tip way lower than I should have, considering the entertainment. I hope to get in his cab again.
Now I'm home and I don't know what to do with myself. How do you go on from here?
I wake up incredibly late. That is nothing new, but waking up from a NyQuil coma and realizing i have two hours to finish my sketch, shower and eat before i have to leave put me in a strange mood.
I finish the sketch. It's pretty good, I think. I shower and eat a banana on the way to the bus. I'm running late.
On the bus, I sit close enough to a middle-aged woman talking on her phone to hear this shit:
"I'm fucked. Absolutely fucked. I'm talking full reconstructive plastic surgery. It's happened before"
I look at the woman. She looks fine. I'm very curious about the story behind this conversation. Even more so after the following:
"They put glass in my face, glass in my side, glass in my boobs, glass in my (lowers her voice, not nearly enough) vagina..."
My brain short circuits for a moment. When I come to, I look at the woman again. She still looks fine. She gets off the bus and was not walking like a woman hindered by shards of glass in her lady parts. I consider following her around for the rest of the day, but I'm late for class.
I get off the bus at the Sheffield Red-Brown-Purple Line stop, intending on transferring to a train. I don't think I'll make it however, and opt for a taxi.
I hail a taxi and get in, stating my destination. Off we go. The cabbie takes a phone call a minute in. He asks whomever is on the other side "Who's angry? Who's angry?" Then he begins gently singing a lullaby for ten minutes. I pay the man and exit the cab.
Class. Class went really well, my sketch killed and the teacher offered no notes, he just said that it was really good. This isn't strange, I'm merely bragging.
Class continues, it's around nine p.m. and I realize I've only eaten a banana in twenty-four hours. I'm a bit lightheaded, but I plow through and perform in a classmate's sketch in which I'm a homeless guy that gets sat on (it made sense in context). Anyway, class ends.
I grab a sandwich immediately after class, eat it and then I watch student short films back at Second City. It's dark, the films are odd and I feel...off.
I take the train back to Sheffield and just miss my bus. I decide on another cab. Surely there will be no singing this time.
Wrong. My cabbie is Ray St. Ray, The Singing Cabdriver.
http://www.hounddog.tv/artists/raystray/index.htm
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CIkTUEqXiyg
A fucking singing cab driver. And he's kind of famous. And entirely awesome. He's insane in the best possible way. We chat for a bit at first, he's incredibly friendly, he tells some bad jokes, and then he tells me that he is in fact, The Singing Cabdriver. He asks what kind of song I'd like to hear and offers some choices: love, life, sex, etc. I choose love. He asks what kind of love: sentimental, violent, lust, etc. I choose sentimental. He begins fucking singing. He doesn't have the greatest voice, but it's not bad. The song is simple, but poignant. The melody and word choice really got me. I nearly teared up.
He finished and I applauded. He sang another song about "A James Bond Movie that doesn't exist", which was good and really had some creative rhymes. We arrive at my destination. He gives me a flyer for a show he's doing (of course) and I thank him very much. I tip way lower than I should have, considering the entertainment. I hope to get in his cab again.
Now I'm home and I don't know what to do with myself. How do you go on from here?
6.02.2010
inclined to blurgh
Things are going well. My sketches are getting better, and the plan to put on a show this year is starting to feel real. we may have a director. we may have a starting space. we may have to put on a giant fundraiser at some point. i expect y'all to empty your pockets.
the weather has been awesome lately. i wish it could be 68 degrees every day of the year.
weather is a boring topic. let's move on.
trying to get work online writing for Cracked. They don't require a fancy degree, anyone can do it. it pays shit no doubt, but whatever.
Have had a lot of people in town the last couple of months. I love it. Keep it coming.
Currently trying to justify spending twenty-five american dollars on the Point Break Live show. Holy shit it sounds like fun.
the weather has been awesome lately. i wish it could be 68 degrees every day of the year.
weather is a boring topic. let's move on.
trying to get work online writing for Cracked. They don't require a fancy degree, anyone can do it. it pays shit no doubt, but whatever.
Have had a lot of people in town the last couple of months. I love it. Keep it coming.
Currently trying to justify spending twenty-five american dollars on the Point Break Live show. Holy shit it sounds like fun.
5.18.2010
here's a little something.
Hello, folks.
It's been a little while since I've blogged. My last one really took it out of me. And wore your patience I'm sure, if you bothered reading it all. I doubt I would have.
Anyhoo, since this blog is primarily about comedy stuff, I thought I'd share a sketch I just wrote. I don't know why this hasn't occurred to me to this before. I guess it's because I've written a lot but not a lot of is good. I don't know if the following piece is either, but I like it. Hope you do too.
I will add the caveat that this is a first draft.
Suicide Hotline
(An office with a phone bank.)
CHRIS
Okay Roxie, this here will be your station. Here's your desk, phone, and here's a little list of helpful phrases to tell the caller in case you get stuck. Remember, these are troubled people. Treat them with care and respect.
ROXIE
Oh, I will, sir. I'm so happy to be here, this is such important work.
CHRIS
Thank YOU, Roxie. Never have we had an new volunteer coming in with this much experience. Four thousand hours on the phone in customer service? That's outstanding.
ROXIE
Everyone at my job says I'm the best with service!
CHRIS
Super. Just super. Well, I'll let you get started here. You're going to be very busy today, the holidays are our rush period. Lots of depressed people this time of year, and it's your job to cheer them up and make sure they don't make a rash decision.
ROXIE
(saluting)
I promise to do my best, sir!
CHRIS
Ok then! I like your moxie, Roxie! Ha ha!
ROXIE
Ha ha ha!
(Roxie's phone rings)
CHRIS
Whoops! I'll leave you to it, and I'll be by to check on you later. Remember, just do what comes naturally, and be supportive.
ROXIE
I sure will, I'm excited to help people.
(CHRIS exits, ROXIE picks up phone, begins speaking very seductively)
Oooh, you've reached the Suicide Prevention Hotline. My name's Roxie. What's your name, baby?...Robert? Mmmm, Robert. How can I DO it for you today?
(CHRIS is speaking to colleague, JOE, out of earshot)
JOE
(Smiling broadly)
Think that new girl I sent your way will work out, Chris?
CHRIS
I do. She has tons of experience, and she sure seems like an eager beaver.
JOE
You have no idea.
ROXIE
(on phone)
Yesss...I'm so glad to hear you say that. There's so much to live for, baby. So much. So much. So, so...oh oh OHHHHH...ok. Ok. Thank YOU, hon. Tell your friends.
CHRIS
Wow, it sounds like she's really empathizing with the caller!
JOE
INDEED.
ROXIE
(on phone)
...I'm sorry you're so upset, mama will make it all better. Tell me about your problems...mmm...yeah...yeah...ooh! You've got a rope and you know what to do with it, huh? I like that, daddy...what? No, I LIKE hung guys...
CHRIS
She's smiling and giggling, she must really be connecting with the callers!
JOE
It's what she knows best.
CHRIS
How wonderful. Thank you for the recommendation, Joe!
JOE
My pleasure. Hers, too.
ROXIE
(on phone)
Okay sweetie, hope you're relaxed and feeling better now...thank you. Be sure to tell your friends!
(CHRIS walks over to ROXIE)
CHRIS
How's it going there, Roxie? Having some success?
ROXIE
You bet, sir! I just helped two callers, and they both sounded very relaxed and happy before they hung up.
CHRIS
Attagirl! I knew you'd be good at this.
ROXIE
I think we might even get some new callers out of this!
CHRIS
Uh...that's great...well done.
(CHRIS walks over to JOE)
That was a little weird. She just mentioned something about getting new people to call in. She's a bit kooky, eh?
JOE
I think she gets caught up in her passion for the work, Chris.
CHRIS
She certainly seems to...
ROXIE
(on phone)
That's it, that's it! You want to live!
(Getting louder and wilder)
YES! YES! THERE IS A LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL! Ok, baby. Thank YOU. Tell your friends.
CHRIS
My lord, the commitment from that woman.
(Looking around the office)
You could all learn a lot from this girl!
JOE
She is wonderfully talented.
Chris
She's really talking these people off the ledge!
JOE
She definitely is talking people off, yes.
ROXIE
(on phone)
Hi lover, what's your name? Lisa? Let me just transfer you to Gunner, he'll take real good care of you...ok, sweetheart.
(CHRIS and JOE walk up to ROXIE)
CHRIS
Roxie, you are amazing. I'm so glad you came in today.
ROXIE
Oh, I love it, sir! Making sad people happy again. I feel like I'm doing God's work.
JOE
Yeah, I bet lots of these callers are seeing God today.
CHRIS
Roxie, I'm so impressed with you. I want to listen in on the next call you take. Maybe I can learn a thing or two!
ROXIE
Okay!
JOE
Oh boy. Maybe that's not a great idea, Chris, I mean, I don't know if the caller would appreciate it.
CHRIS
I'll be as quiet as a church mouse. They won't know I'm there. I'm merely an observer.
(ROXIE's phone rings, CHRIS puts on a headset)
Go ahead, Roxie.
ROXIE
Hello, you've reached the Suicide Prevention Hotline, and I'm your hot bitch Roxie. Do you need a spanking?
CHRIS
Holy shit.
(CHRIS disconnects the call)
ROXIE
You hung up on them! They needed help!
CHRIS
They didn't need your potty mouth! What are you thinking?
ROXIE
I thought I was helping!
CHRIS
Well, that's not the kind of help we give out here. I;m gonna have to ask you to leave. Joe, I'll deal with you later. Roxie, you gotta go.
ROXIE
(crying)
It's not fair! I was helping people!
(ROXIE runs out of the office, Joe leaves after her)
CHRIS
Good lord. That was almost a disaster.
(Phone rings)
Hello, Suicide Prevention Hotline, this is Chris. How can I help?...No, sorry, uh...Roxie isn't here. Maybe I can...hello? Hello?
(crazed, desperate)
HELLO?!?
(Blackout.)
It's been a little while since I've blogged. My last one really took it out of me. And wore your patience I'm sure, if you bothered reading it all. I doubt I would have.
Anyhoo, since this blog is primarily about comedy stuff, I thought I'd share a sketch I just wrote. I don't know why this hasn't occurred to me to this before. I guess it's because I've written a lot but not a lot of is good. I don't know if the following piece is either, but I like it. Hope you do too.
I will add the caveat that this is a first draft.
Suicide Hotline
(An office with a phone bank.)
CHRIS
Okay Roxie, this here will be your station. Here's your desk, phone, and here's a little list of helpful phrases to tell the caller in case you get stuck. Remember, these are troubled people. Treat them with care and respect.
ROXIE
Oh, I will, sir. I'm so happy to be here, this is such important work.
CHRIS
Thank YOU, Roxie. Never have we had an new volunteer coming in with this much experience. Four thousand hours on the phone in customer service? That's outstanding.
ROXIE
Everyone at my job says I'm the best with service!
CHRIS
Super. Just super. Well, I'll let you get started here. You're going to be very busy today, the holidays are our rush period. Lots of depressed people this time of year, and it's your job to cheer them up and make sure they don't make a rash decision.
ROXIE
(saluting)
I promise to do my best, sir!
CHRIS
Ok then! I like your moxie, Roxie! Ha ha!
ROXIE
Ha ha ha!
(Roxie's phone rings)
CHRIS
Whoops! I'll leave you to it, and I'll be by to check on you later. Remember, just do what comes naturally, and be supportive.
ROXIE
I sure will, I'm excited to help people.
(CHRIS exits, ROXIE picks up phone, begins speaking very seductively)
Oooh, you've reached the Suicide Prevention Hotline. My name's Roxie. What's your name, baby?...Robert? Mmmm, Robert. How can I DO it for you today?
(CHRIS is speaking to colleague, JOE, out of earshot)
JOE
(Smiling broadly)
Think that new girl I sent your way will work out, Chris?
CHRIS
I do. She has tons of experience, and she sure seems like an eager beaver.
JOE
You have no idea.
ROXIE
(on phone)
Yesss...I'm so glad to hear you say that. There's so much to live for, baby. So much. So much. So, so...oh oh OHHHHH...ok. Ok. Thank YOU, hon. Tell your friends.
CHRIS
Wow, it sounds like she's really empathizing with the caller!
JOE
INDEED.
ROXIE
(on phone)
...I'm sorry you're so upset, mama will make it all better. Tell me about your problems...mmm...yeah...yeah...ooh! You've got a rope and you know what to do with it, huh? I like that, daddy...what? No, I LIKE hung guys...
CHRIS
She's smiling and giggling, she must really be connecting with the callers!
JOE
It's what she knows best.
CHRIS
How wonderful. Thank you for the recommendation, Joe!
JOE
My pleasure. Hers, too.
ROXIE
(on phone)
Okay sweetie, hope you're relaxed and feeling better now...thank you. Be sure to tell your friends!
(CHRIS walks over to ROXIE)
CHRIS
How's it going there, Roxie? Having some success?
ROXIE
You bet, sir! I just helped two callers, and they both sounded very relaxed and happy before they hung up.
CHRIS
Attagirl! I knew you'd be good at this.
ROXIE
I think we might even get some new callers out of this!
CHRIS
Uh...that's great...well done.
(CHRIS walks over to JOE)
That was a little weird. She just mentioned something about getting new people to call in. She's a bit kooky, eh?
JOE
I think she gets caught up in her passion for the work, Chris.
CHRIS
She certainly seems to...
ROXIE
(on phone)
That's it, that's it! You want to live!
(Getting louder and wilder)
YES! YES! THERE IS A LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL! Ok, baby. Thank YOU. Tell your friends.
CHRIS
My lord, the commitment from that woman.
(Looking around the office)
You could all learn a lot from this girl!
JOE
She is wonderfully talented.
Chris
She's really talking these people off the ledge!
JOE
She definitely is talking people off, yes.
ROXIE
(on phone)
Hi lover, what's your name? Lisa? Let me just transfer you to Gunner, he'll take real good care of you...ok, sweetheart.
(CHRIS and JOE walk up to ROXIE)
CHRIS
Roxie, you are amazing. I'm so glad you came in today.
ROXIE
Oh, I love it, sir! Making sad people happy again. I feel like I'm doing God's work.
JOE
Yeah, I bet lots of these callers are seeing God today.
CHRIS
Roxie, I'm so impressed with you. I want to listen in on the next call you take. Maybe I can learn a thing or two!
ROXIE
Okay!
JOE
Oh boy. Maybe that's not a great idea, Chris, I mean, I don't know if the caller would appreciate it.
CHRIS
I'll be as quiet as a church mouse. They won't know I'm there. I'm merely an observer.
(ROXIE's phone rings, CHRIS puts on a headset)
Go ahead, Roxie.
ROXIE
Hello, you've reached the Suicide Prevention Hotline, and I'm your hot bitch Roxie. Do you need a spanking?
CHRIS
Holy shit.
(CHRIS disconnects the call)
ROXIE
You hung up on them! They needed help!
CHRIS
They didn't need your potty mouth! What are you thinking?
ROXIE
I thought I was helping!
CHRIS
Well, that's not the kind of help we give out here. I;m gonna have to ask you to leave. Joe, I'll deal with you later. Roxie, you gotta go.
ROXIE
(crying)
It's not fair! I was helping people!
(ROXIE runs out of the office, Joe leaves after her)
CHRIS
Good lord. That was almost a disaster.
(Phone rings)
Hello, Suicide Prevention Hotline, this is Chris. How can I help?...No, sorry, uh...Roxie isn't here. Maybe I can...hello? Hello?
(crazed, desperate)
HELLO?!?
(Blackout.)
4.25.2010
Live Blogging Saturday Night Live...i don't know why
I thought it might be interesting to live blog SNL. I'm kinda bored. Let's give it a shot. I may lose interest halfway through.
The host is Gabourey Sidibe, based on the novel Push by Sapphire. Musical guest MGMT.
I missed the cold opening, and the monologue. I can't seem to get the hang of this Central Time Zone. I'm too used to 11:30 being the start time of this show, having watched it at that time for twenty years.
Ok, first sketch: Suze Orman show parody starring Kristin Wiig and the host. It's crammed full of jokes about how horrible and possibly gay Orman is. Wiig is better than this sketch. It's getting laughs, and Sidibe's Jamaican author character is a good foil for the insane Orman, but I have no interest.
Next up, Who Wants To Be A Millionaire with Kenan Thompson playing Steve Harvey as the host. This timely parody is pretty one-note, the joke being that Harvey can't pronounce any of the answers. "My makeup lady is half Paprikas(meaning Puerto Rican, I guess)" and attempts to pronounce Eyjafjallajokull. As you might imagine it's HILARIOUS!
Oh look, Betty White hosts in a couple weeks. Musical guest Jay-Z! HOVA! This news only serves to remind me how much I'd rather be watching that episode. Fuck.
Next sketch, two New York youths played by Fred Armisen and Thompson, chatting idly (and loudly) on a stoop about New York events, and continually interrupted by Sidibe playing an old lady who has a lot of advice to give, and also she wants them to shut up. The one laugh from me came when Sidibe's character was asked how she is so knowledgeable, and she replied "My daddy used to sell Wikipedias". Sidibe garbled a few of her words and it kind of took me out of the sketch...which I was happy about. This shit's hard.
Digital Short, "Cherry Battle". The sheer weirdness of this sketch is really doing it for me. Andy Samberg and Sidibe dressed as samurai, perhaps Ronin, spit numerous cherries in slow motion at each other, and catch them in their mouths. Samberg gets the win after spitting a cherry with a little face on it, mouthing the "Thus Sprach Zarathrusta"-type music. Watch this sketch online.
Weird sketch about two girls with funny voices selling custom alarm clocks featuring their said weird voices as the alarm. It was okay, at least it's an original premise.
This is so fucking long, I'm sorry.
The host is Gabourey Sidibe, based on the novel Push by Sapphire. Musical guest MGMT.
I missed the cold opening, and the monologue. I can't seem to get the hang of this Central Time Zone. I'm too used to 11:30 being the start time of this show, having watched it at that time for twenty years.
Ok, first sketch: Suze Orman show parody starring Kristin Wiig and the host. It's crammed full of jokes about how horrible and possibly gay Orman is. Wiig is better than this sketch. It's getting laughs, and Sidibe's Jamaican author character is a good foil for the insane Orman, but I have no interest.
Next up, Who Wants To Be A Millionaire with Kenan Thompson playing Steve Harvey as the host. This timely parody is pretty one-note, the joke being that Harvey can't pronounce any of the answers. "My makeup lady is half Paprikas(meaning Puerto Rican, I guess)" and attempts to pronounce Eyjafjallajokull. As you might imagine it's HILARIOUS!
Oh look, Betty White hosts in a couple weeks. Musical guest Jay-Z! HOVA! This news only serves to remind me how much I'd rather be watching that episode. Fuck.
Next sketch, two New York youths played by Fred Armisen and Thompson, chatting idly (and loudly) on a stoop about New York events, and continually interrupted by Sidibe playing an old lady who has a lot of advice to give, and also she wants them to shut up. The one laugh from me came when Sidibe's character was asked how she is so knowledgeable, and she replied "My daddy used to sell Wikipedias". Sidibe garbled a few of her words and it kind of took me out of the sketch...which I was happy about. This shit's hard.
Digital Short, "Cherry Battle". The sheer weirdness of this sketch is really doing it for me. Andy Samberg and Sidibe dressed as samurai, perhaps Ronin, spit numerous cherries in slow motion at each other, and catch them in their mouths. Samberg gets the win after spitting a cherry with a little face on it, mouthing the "Thus Sprach Zarathrusta"-type music. Watch this sketch online.
Danish Frank Sinatra sketch also weird, which helps, but too long. and one-note. Yes, the Danes have interesting interpretations of the English language and their accent is inherently goofy. But, it's not a good sign if you're ripping off gags from Family Guy.
My lord, all of the women on SNL are smokin' hot. Really, really hot.
MGMT first performance. I haven't heard any of of their new stuff yet. Apparently they've finished the transition to psychedelia. I can't really judge this song on one listen, but I dunno. Kind of stupid. Also, the rhythm guitarist looks like he pooped a little on accident. It's super hard to judge a band that plays on SNL, they have serious sound issues usually. I don't know why they can't get it right, given that it's been sucky for so long.
Weekend Update. Usually good fer a couple chuckles at least. Highlights:
"Every time 'show me your papers' is said, Hitler's family gets money"-reference to Arizona's new immigration bullshit.
Wiig's "prominent travel writer" character, supposedly on Update to talk about the Icelandic volcano, isn't very funny, but she has a fucking mouthful of words to say and she pulled it off flawlessly. Impressive, but not exactly comedy gold.
Good joke about Octomom's vagina emitting carnival midway music.
Ah, here's some Bill Hader. Love Bill Hader. This strange, gay "Streets Correspondent" character, ostensibly giving tourist advice but really just talking about "the hottest club in New York" over and over would have sucked in less capable hands, but Hader's mannerisms sell it. Also, he fought off a case of the giggles admirably, and I'm kind of a sucker for when cast members break character and giggle a bit. Sometimes that's really fucking annoying, like when Jimmy Fallon was on the show and couldn't get through a sketch without grinning like an ass, but this worked for me.
"Tranny Oakley" I love puns.
End of Update.
Iron Man 2 preview. Holy schnikeys, May 7 can't come soon enough.
This is boring, i'm going to take a break and live blog my next cigarette.
11:30: Smoked a cigarette. Tasted great. Felt guilty after.
Oh no, I missed the beginning of the next sketch. Some sort of Public Employee awards show. "Like many New York custodians, he is a year-round resident of Florida" This sketch sucks ass. I get it, New York Public Employees are corrupt and lazy. Jason Sudeikis' character won while on his extended break. The shot of him being informed of the win was pretty great.
Weird sketch about two girls with funny voices selling custom alarm clocks featuring their said weird voices as the alarm. It was okay, at least it's an original premise.
MGMT again. this song, um..."Brian Eno" is the chorus. What? This is strange. It's kind of unlistenable. I'll give it this: from what I've heard tonight, I think that this album would be great for freshmen in college who just discovered pot and want to listen to some hip new sounds, man. Like their first album but less accessible. Less accessibility means more street cred, yo.
Almost done. Five minutes to go. Even if I hadn't blogged about this while watching, it still would have been work to get through it. I know I'm not saying anything new when I say SNL is weak shit this year, but goddamn.
Last sketch. Best of the night, in that it got one big laugh from me. The premise is that Sidibe is giving a talk about Precious. Her ex-boyfriend, played by Will Forte, shows up and wants her back. He's a little racist, but he's trying to change. He laments their breakup, asking Gabourey if she remembers when he'd spend the evening "Tracing Robert Ludlum passages into your back with my penis" Holy shit, that's a great line. Funniest moment all night. She's hesitant to take him back, but he tells her he saw Precious and although "the black audience was talking to the screen" he enjoyed what he did manage to see and hear. He completes getting her back by serenading her, telling her "Life is a Gabourey". Loved this sketch.
SNL always puts the weird stuff at the end. Sometimes the weird stuff works, sometimes not. It's always refreshing to see something off-the-wall on the show, however. I don't believe in irreverence for the sake of irreverence, in fact few things are as annoying, but in its thirty-fifth year SNL should take any shot in the arm in can get. I believe the Suze Orman sketch at the top of the show was the only recurring sketch, which is something. SNL is known for sticking with tried-and-true tropes, and beating them into the public's brain with a claw hammer. Sometimes to great effect (Wayne's World, Celebrity Jeopardy) and sometimes not (all recurring sketches from the last five years.)
I realize now that this isn't really live-blogging, in that my comments aren't presented "live". Fine.
Why does this show suck now? They have a great cast, I can't come up with someone I really think is talentless. A great number of them I think could be comedy legends, and they regularly make me chortle hard in other venues. The blame must fall to the writing, but even that's hard to judge. With the way comedy has evolved since SNL was the gold standard (yes, it's been up and down throughout its run), and SNL's tortoise-like adaption to anything new, the blame must be cast on the producers. SNL does well when there is ripe political strife to comment on, or when they present a completely original sketch. It just seems like nowadays SNL is just looking for that next Digital Short meme, or trying to skew younger and younger with their hosts. There is no fucking way Taylors Swift and/or Lautner would have been hosts fifteen years ago. You kind of had to prove yourself a bit. At least a little.
It's still a remarkable achievement putting a live show on every week with six days to prepare. (Five maybe, as I believe they take Sunday off.) And it's really easy for me to judge it harshly. I know that I couldn't do any better with my skills as they are. Comedy is exceedingly difficult. The simple fact that SNL and NBC have nigh-limitless resources to cull the best and the brightest writers, people with their finger on the pulse...so why sketches that hammer one unfunny bit over and over? Don't beat us over the head with this shit, especially when there are so many other opportunities to find sublime comedy these days.
Imagine if "Drunk History", or a few other internet-based sketches had been co-opted by SNL instead of Funny Or Die. Critics would be creaming themselves talking about how SNL is back, blah blah blah. At the very least, SNL could produce some original content in the same vein, filming some stuff with the kind of A-List celebrity that FOD manages on a weekly basis. Maybe it'd be cheap. Maybe it wouldn't, but at least SNL could pretend it understands how comedy works now.
4.14.2010
whither blog?
Hey there JiBlets!
It's yer ole pal Jokey blogging because I pretty much do whatever Andershack tells me to. Chris, the roads are paved with candy and I'm not talking about your Hershey highway. Well, maybe I am a little bit. I'm glad you're going to be in Ohio this summer.
Speaking of being in Ohio, I was exactly there this last weekend. A BG reunion took place, with Rob, Bob, Subic, myself, and a full host of goofy fucks who still live in town. We were drunk and merry. Long story short, I put a baby in Rob.
Just kidding about the goofy fucks thing. I lumped most of you in with my description of Josh.
My current classes are coming to an end next week, and new ones begin the week after. I'm totally jazzed to be doing what I'm doing. So much that I use the word "jazzed" unabashedly. I've already written my final sketch for my first writing class, I've learned a boatload from my improv teach, and can't wait to do more. Man, as soon as I'm completely comfortable on a stage I will be unstoppable. That day approaches quickly.
These classes are nice, for the most part it's like sitting in a room of contacts and potential friends. Met some good people and I'm sure I'll meet more.
It was my birthday a couple of days ago. Seriously, thank you all for the wishes. I've never had between seventy and eighty people wish me a happy one on the same day. Warmed this old battleaxe's heart.
The big-assed Chicago comic book convention is this weekend. It's huge. Carrie Fisher will be there. It's that big. Nah, she probably needs the appearance cash. But seriously, it's a big fucking show, and I'm excited about it, and excited to see a bunch of people in town, including Mike Wulff who I haven't seen in several coon's ages. Hooray for nerdery.
Considering hypnotism as a way to quit smoking. I've heard magical things. Thoughts?
It's yer ole pal Jokey blogging because I pretty much do whatever Andershack tells me to. Chris, the roads are paved with candy and I'm not talking about your Hershey highway. Well, maybe I am a little bit. I'm glad you're going to be in Ohio this summer.
Speaking of being in Ohio, I was exactly there this last weekend. A BG reunion took place, with Rob, Bob, Subic, myself, and a full host of goofy fucks who still live in town. We were drunk and merry. Long story short, I put a baby in Rob.
Just kidding about the goofy fucks thing. I lumped most of you in with my description of Josh.
My current classes are coming to an end next week, and new ones begin the week after. I'm totally jazzed to be doing what I'm doing. So much that I use the word "jazzed" unabashedly. I've already written my final sketch for my first writing class, I've learned a boatload from my improv teach, and can't wait to do more. Man, as soon as I'm completely comfortable on a stage I will be unstoppable. That day approaches quickly.
These classes are nice, for the most part it's like sitting in a room of contacts and potential friends. Met some good people and I'm sure I'll meet more.
It was my birthday a couple of days ago. Seriously, thank you all for the wishes. I've never had between seventy and eighty people wish me a happy one on the same day. Warmed this old battleaxe's heart.
The big-assed Chicago comic book convention is this weekend. It's huge. Carrie Fisher will be there. It's that big. Nah, she probably needs the appearance cash. But seriously, it's a big fucking show, and I'm excited about it, and excited to see a bunch of people in town, including Mike Wulff who I haven't seen in several coon's ages. Hooray for nerdery.
Considering hypnotism as a way to quit smoking. I've heard magical things. Thoughts?
3.29.2010
Courier New. Increasing page count slightly since 1955. Way easier and more fun to read than this shitty font. Thanks, Howard "Bud" Kettler!
Came down with a chest cold that traveled into my upper sinuses and back four or five days ago. Pretty much over it today, only a slightly nagging cough remains. With the exception of eating a Merkel-made Korean hoagie yesterday, this weekend pretty much was worthless.
Man, it was just great to see Lindsay last week. Her and Monty are ridiculously wonderful to hang out with. Monty is apparently short for Montana, Montgomery, and Montague. Hopefully I'll see those two on their way back to Missouri.
One of the finest episodes of Lost ever aired this past week. "Ab Aeterno" focused on the secret origin of Richard Alpert. We found out just how old he was, and how he stays so young and supple. It was really rewarding to have such a well-acted, answers-heavy episode. I've really enjoyed this season, but I'm definitely a Lost-can-do-no-wrong kinda guy.
That said I've been annoyed with this season like I haven't really been in previous seasons, even the third. I think it's because I kind of expect to be blown away with sweet mythology each episode because we're in the LAST SEASON EVER, here. It's so late in the game and I can't help but be a bit nervous that the conclusion won't be satisfying. I mean, how built up is it? And not everyone has held on the whole time, the show has been plagued with declining ratings from time to time. Those that have stuck around is expecting some sweet, enriching nourishment from the endgame. I know I am.
Lost has taken its time and done it exactly the way it wants. Of all of the thousands of theories on Lost, I don't think anyone has posited "Lost is Tantric Sex" yet. It's taken 112 episodes to reach the climax, and the show is really saving up for it. And how terrible would it be if at the end, after all that, right before it was over your balls got kicked?
3.21.2010
That was a bit much
Sorry for a large amount of the content of the last blog, that isn't really how I like to roll. I can't believe I quoted Bad Religion. Thanks for putting up with it and thank you for those who have listened to me whine recently. I'm feeling much better now. I may not be a new man yet but I think I'm on my way. Let's try to move on-
I shot and edited a four-minute video for my friend applying for a scholarship at Second City. It was a lot of fun and I can't wait to make more stuff. Editing is fun but time-consuming as hell, as anyone who has done it can tell you. Here's the youtube link if you want to watch it, I think it's pretty funny considering my friend didn't want to spend a lot of time on it:
Second City Scholarship
I'm averaging around a sketch a week, and I'd like to at least double that output. A lot of what I write is decent, but some of it sure ain't. My teacher tells me that in order to write something good, you need to write a bunch of stuff that's bad at some point, gotta get that SHIT out the way. This seems obvious to me, but it's something I never gave enough thought. That seems to be the gist of this first writing class, a lot of what's being taught is stuff that seems obvious once spelled out, but good to know and good that it was spelled out. That said, this class is moving at a snail's pace. Definitely more process over product so far, and each class we've done "get to know you" shit, which would be fine except I'm not a freshman in college. We do a "good-touch fire drill" which involves eight seconds of running around, trying to tap the other 17 or so students on the shoulder. I have no idea why this happens. All I know is Ranjit, the teacher with the roundest head I've ever seen outside of Peanuts, sure seems to enjoy it. He's a bit weird, but I like him. I like him even though sometimes his voice reminds me Swampie's, it's a slightly affected and very nerdy voice.
Ok, while I was typing that last paragraph I received a call from the dude who was trying to set up that audition. It's still on, it just took him a bit to get his ducks in a row. Tuesday. Tuesday will be the day I charm my way into one of those "moving pictures" I've heard so much about. Time to learn about ghost hunting.
Chicago WinterSpring 2010 is here. it's a lovely mix of snow, rain, mud and despair. With occasional sunshine.
I shot and edited a four-minute video for my friend applying for a scholarship at Second City. It was a lot of fun and I can't wait to make more stuff. Editing is fun but time-consuming as hell, as anyone who has done it can tell you. Here's the youtube link if you want to watch it, I think it's pretty funny considering my friend didn't want to spend a lot of time on it:
Second City Scholarship
I'm averaging around a sketch a week, and I'd like to at least double that output. A lot of what I write is decent, but some of it sure ain't. My teacher tells me that in order to write something good, you need to write a bunch of stuff that's bad at some point, gotta get that SHIT out the way. This seems obvious to me, but it's something I never gave enough thought. That seems to be the gist of this first writing class, a lot of what's being taught is stuff that seems obvious once spelled out, but good to know and good that it was spelled out. That said, this class is moving at a snail's pace. Definitely more process over product so far, and each class we've done "get to know you" shit, which would be fine except I'm not a freshman in college. We do a "good-touch fire drill" which involves eight seconds of running around, trying to tap the other 17 or so students on the shoulder. I have no idea why this happens. All I know is Ranjit, the teacher with the roundest head I've ever seen outside of Peanuts, sure seems to enjoy it. He's a bit weird, but I like him. I like him even though sometimes his voice reminds me Swampie's, it's a slightly affected and very nerdy voice.
Ok, while I was typing that last paragraph I received a call from the dude who was trying to set up that audition. It's still on, it just took him a bit to get his ducks in a row. Tuesday. Tuesday will be the day I charm my way into one of those "moving pictures" I've heard so much about. Time to learn about ghost hunting.
Chicago WinterSpring 2010 is here. it's a lovely mix of snow, rain, mud and despair. With occasional sunshine.
3.11.2010
and bombay gin.
Writing has been going very, very well. Writing something you're proud of is unlike anything else, but it can be compared to inducing laughter from a large group, sex, a really good meal, and Big Trouble In Little China (widescreen). I'm happy to say that I'm kind of a natural when it comes to sketch writing. I guess I'm not sure how what I write will eventually play out on stage (it's gonna happen) but I'm happy with it, and I hope everyone else is too. If not, fuck 'em. I'm clearly ahead of my time with my sketches about vegetables, Steven Seagal and and ass cancer. Hopefully by the end of the summer I'll have co-written and starred in some kind of show. We'll see, writing comedic gold (wink!) isn't enough, there's a whole lot to think about regarding finding a performance space, lighting, staging, and some other technical mumbo-jumbo. I'd be completely lost if I didn't have a good writing partner/someone who knows what they're doing. I'm a fucking newbie to this whole thing and I got lucky finding someone with a similar comedic sensibility, a willingness to work, and some experience in this area. Here's to hoping it continues to go well.
I'm glad that writing sketches and doing improv is going well, sometimes it feels like that's the only thing that is. I haven't been able to produce stand up jokes in a few weeks, I've lost interest in it. My hairline continues to recede. Trying to quit smoking hasn't worked. My super-shitty Ikea bed and dresser are falling apart on me. I can't sleep regularly. When I dream, it alternates between surreal and depressing. My heart recently had to give something up it didn't want to. I'm up and down. I tell myself to buck up and sometimes it works.
I've never been so aware of my flaws as I have moving to Chicago and living largely alone. I now realize how childish, selfish and hurtful I can be, despite my best intentions. Like many 21st Century Digital Boys, I don't know how to live. Oh god, how maudlin can you get?
Love is a bitch. When you love something, everything reminds you of it. CLICHE, Cliche, cliche. But cliches are often painfully true.
The one thing I've prided myself on is suffering as silently as I can, as long as I can. No reason to burden others, I can anticipate reactions and the pawing reassurances. But I don't think that's entirely proper, I mean it's romantic to be the silently-suffering type, the type that drinks shots of whiskey, smokes cigarettes, is friendly but carries the weight of the world behind their eyes. That's a giant load of bullshit. I don't know about you, but I need other people. I like having alone time, but PEOPLE and the getting-to-know-them is what life is all about. If you're lucky, people are there to support you and receive the same. That's what I've learned I need. Maybe in BG where I knew that friends were in abundance it was easier to remain quiet in my sadness but that time is over. A year ago, I would never reveal how I really feel. I guess I don't know why that is. Maybe because I don't know how to handle extreme emotion and it's caught up with me. Maybe because I don't think I've ever fucked up something this big. And I've certainly fucked up my share of shit. I'm having trouble writing this and publishing this, I've written and rewritten, published and erased this post because I feel like I'm drowning in pity. I guess I do want it to be said, and known.
This'll help: Here are some things I recently have found love and/or am grateful for-
A break in the shit-weather
Anthony Bourdain, and as a result all kinds of food-lust
The fact that I'm getting answers from Lost, regardless of how I think it's playing out
My family.
The music of Steely Dan
Captain America
Kari Rakas
Johns Salvage, Rapalee and Zibbel
Nick moving to Chicago.
Rogaine
Finding the ridiculousness in anything
A good, solid shit.
Egg rolls with sweet chinese sausage
Any number of superficialities.
I'm glad that writing sketches and doing improv is going well, sometimes it feels like that's the only thing that is. I haven't been able to produce stand up jokes in a few weeks, I've lost interest in it. My hairline continues to recede. Trying to quit smoking hasn't worked. My super-shitty Ikea bed and dresser are falling apart on me. I can't sleep regularly. When I dream, it alternates between surreal and depressing. My heart recently had to give something up it didn't want to. I'm up and down. I tell myself to buck up and sometimes it works.
I've never been so aware of my flaws as I have moving to Chicago and living largely alone. I now realize how childish, selfish and hurtful I can be, despite my best intentions. Like many 21st Century Digital Boys, I don't know how to live. Oh god, how maudlin can you get?
Love is a bitch. When you love something, everything reminds you of it. CLICHE, Cliche, cliche. But cliches are often painfully true.
The one thing I've prided myself on is suffering as silently as I can, as long as I can. No reason to burden others, I can anticipate reactions and the pawing reassurances. But I don't think that's entirely proper, I mean it's romantic to be the silently-suffering type, the type that drinks shots of whiskey, smokes cigarettes, is friendly but carries the weight of the world behind their eyes. That's a giant load of bullshit. I don't know about you, but I need other people. I like having alone time, but PEOPLE and the getting-to-know-them is what life is all about. If you're lucky, people are there to support you and receive the same. That's what I've learned I need. Maybe in BG where I knew that friends were in abundance it was easier to remain quiet in my sadness but that time is over. A year ago, I would never reveal how I really feel. I guess I don't know why that is. Maybe because I don't know how to handle extreme emotion and it's caught up with me. Maybe because I don't think I've ever fucked up something this big. And I've certainly fucked up my share of shit. I'm having trouble writing this and publishing this, I've written and rewritten, published and erased this post because I feel like I'm drowning in pity. I guess I do want it to be said, and known.
This'll help: Here are some things I recently have found love and/or am grateful for-
A break in the shit-weather
Anthony Bourdain, and as a result all kinds of food-lust
The fact that I'm getting answers from Lost, regardless of how I think it's playing out
My family.
The music of Steely Dan
Captain America
Kari Rakas
Johns Salvage, Rapalee and Zibbel
Nick moving to Chicago.
Rogaine
Finding the ridiculousness in anything
A good, solid shit.
Egg rolls with sweet chinese sausage
Any number of superficialities.
2.27.2010
They call Alabama the Crimson Tide
Sorry if there's been a severe lack o' J.B.loggery lately. Not a hell of a lot has been going on, nothing too new. Still writing and planning. Eager beaver-ly awaiting warmer weather so's I can play outside.
So...some of the projects I've mentioned I was working on are coming together to varying degrees. Haven't heard much about the movie lately, hope that's still a possibility. I think I would have heard if it wasn't going to happen, but I'm an optimist.
The Lost podcast is going okay. I had fun doing the first one, but I really fear for the project. Technical snafus have so easily been screwing with the recording, any mistake requires starting over completely because no one knows how to use AcidPro. I imagine I could figure it out, and I offered to learn but I was politely rebuffed. I have my qualms with the content, as well-the show is purportedly half-narrative, half-recap and discussion. The show is short, and not enough time in my opinion is being spent on either. There are other problems but I don't want to complain too loudly. No sweat for me if it sucks. I do what I can.
Potential/real setbacks aside, things are fine. Things could be better too, but nothing's perfect. Like pretty much everyone else in the country I am done with this winter. I fucking hate it. I cannot wait for warm weather and being comfortable outside, and sunshine, glorious sunshine. Vitamin D is important.
Here's a radio interview with my talented brother. Alex is the principal bassist for the Detroit Symphony Orchestra. He's 23, and awesome. I can't help but feel that if I had stuck with my piano lessons the Hannas could have been a Midwestern "Talent Family", taking our show on the road, and telling the DePues to suck it. I should buy a keyboard and start playing again. I should do a lot of things, but I'll probably end up only doing some.
I need beaten back into shape, or at least a slightly different shape than whatever you would call what I'm rockin' now. The lure of comfort food and TV after a day out in the cold looking for employment and getting some writing done is strong. It's strong, and I am comparatively weak. Bit by bit I'll get to where I need to in order to meet and best that challenge.
I'm completely taken with Man V Food and No Reservations right now, I don't know where this food-travelogue show obsession came from. I love food and I love travel, I mean, it's not a complete mystery. Usually shows like that just make me wistful that I'm not there, eating that food and exploring that culture. There's still some of that when I watch these shows, but certainly not enough to stop me from loving it. I don't know, maybe it's simply serving as a means to daydream my way out of a Chicago winter.
Read Chris Andersen's blog if you don't. For a former sex-offender he writes extremely well. radiounready.blogspot.com
So...some of the projects I've mentioned I was working on are coming together to varying degrees. Haven't heard much about the movie lately, hope that's still a possibility. I think I would have heard if it wasn't going to happen, but I'm an optimist.
The Lost podcast is going okay. I had fun doing the first one, but I really fear for the project. Technical snafus have so easily been screwing with the recording, any mistake requires starting over completely because no one knows how to use AcidPro. I imagine I could figure it out, and I offered to learn but I was politely rebuffed. I have my qualms with the content, as well-the show is purportedly half-narrative, half-recap and discussion. The show is short, and not enough time in my opinion is being spent on either. There are other problems but I don't want to complain too loudly. No sweat for me if it sucks. I do what I can.
Potential/real setbacks aside, things are fine. Things could be better too, but nothing's perfect. Like pretty much everyone else in the country I am done with this winter. I fucking hate it. I cannot wait for warm weather and being comfortable outside, and sunshine, glorious sunshine. Vitamin D is important.
Here's a radio interview with my talented brother. Alex is the principal bassist for the Detroit Symphony Orchestra. He's 23, and awesome. I can't help but feel that if I had stuck with my piano lessons the Hannas could have been a Midwestern "Talent Family", taking our show on the road, and telling the DePues to suck it. I should buy a keyboard and start playing again. I should do a lot of things, but I'll probably end up only doing some.
I need beaten back into shape, or at least a slightly different shape than whatever you would call what I'm rockin' now. The lure of comfort food and TV after a day out in the cold looking for employment and getting some writing done is strong. It's strong, and I am comparatively weak. Bit by bit I'll get to where I need to in order to meet and best that challenge.
I'm completely taken with Man V Food and No Reservations right now, I don't know where this food-travelogue show obsession came from. I love food and I love travel, I mean, it's not a complete mystery. Usually shows like that just make me wistful that I'm not there, eating that food and exploring that culture. There's still some of that when I watch these shows, but certainly not enough to stop me from loving it. I don't know, maybe it's simply serving as a means to daydream my way out of a Chicago winter.
Read Chris Andersen's blog if you don't. For a former sex-offender he writes extremely well. radiounready.blogspot.com
2.18.2010
Magic
All right. Let's go. Time to write some blog.
Aaaaand...go.
Let's do this, let's write some hilarious, insightful, and world-changing shit. It's blog-time.
Yeah. Blog-time.
Blog-time is like Bullet-Time from The Matrix, except you dodge comma splices and poor grammar in slow motion...
No. That's no good. Start over.
Okay, any second now I'm going to start blogging.
I wish there was some big event happening right now, like on TV or something. Then i could live blog. Immediate inspiration, instantly something to comment on. I wish I could've live blogged in 1995.
"Hmmm, seems like The JUICE is in some hot WATER! LOL"
You know, gems like that. It seems effortless, I know. And it is.
Aaaaand...go.
Let's do this, let's write some hilarious, insightful, and world-changing shit. It's blog-time.
Yeah. Blog-time.
Blog-time is like Bullet-Time from The Matrix, except you dodge comma splices and poor grammar in slow motion...
No. That's no good. Start over.
Okay, any second now I'm going to start blogging.
I wish there was some big event happening right now, like on TV or something. Then i could live blog. Immediate inspiration, instantly something to comment on. I wish I could've live blogged in 1995.
"Hmmm, seems like The JUICE is in some hot WATER! LOL"
You know, gems like that. It seems effortless, I know. And it is.
2.06.2010
I'm not UNLIKE Eminem
Did you guys see 8 Mile? I may not have had mom's spaghetti on my sweater already, but Marshall Mathers' unfortunate foray into freestyle rap at the beginning of the movie was similar to my experience trying stand up. Just rhyme "sweaty" in there instead of "already" or "spaghetti" and we're getting closer to an accurate picture. Epic fail? Not really. Epic win, definitely not. Epic fail-win? Yes, probably. I went on third-to-last during an evening filled with fledgling comics who may have "it" someday, but certainly didn't that night. Might I have fared better with an earlier slot? There would have been more people there. Would I have done better at that time? Doubtful. Just would have been more people to gawk at the pile of sweaty goo onstage. But it was FUN. Two minutes blinked away at an instant. I can't consider it bombing because there were probably less than ten people in the room. There were a couple chuckles, and I left the stage to polite, if scattered applause. Either way, bomb or no, success was had. I'll be doing it again and again. Time to bomb for real and get used to liking it.
I have been asked to audition for a movie. Yes. I have. It's a low, low budget horror flick in which I would play part of a team of paranormal investigators. The director is looking for unprofessional actors (ding!) with some improv skills (ding?) to carry the story forward, which won't have much dialogue written ahead of time. Obviously, I hope I get it. Even if it's a big piece of shit, it can't help but be fun. And I get to satisfy two childhood dreams: being in a movie and being a ghost buster. Or something close to a ghost buster, certainly not a Ghostbuster, nope. I can't even hold Winston's token black ectoplasmic jock.
Starting a sketch group, or trying to. More news as it develops.
Also, I'm taking part in a Lost podcast. This one will be unique as there will be an ongoing narrative with those 'casting being characters, and each week focuses on a different character, they tell the story of what happened on Lost that week and what happened to them that week. I'm Ahmed, an Egyptian dude with a broken heart and a chip on his shoulder. My favorite season is the fifth (true) and I pine away, bitterly, for the girl who has the group of characters over to watch Lost each week. The girl is seeing someone new, an English bloke who has recently joined the watching party, much to the chagrin of dear Ahmed. It's an ambitious project. First one records on or about Monday. Once it's finished, I think the lot of you should be able to download on iTunes. Barring that, it'll be available somewhere, and I will let you know when I know.
Busy these days.
In other news, I miss you. Love, Jokey.
I have been asked to audition for a movie. Yes. I have. It's a low, low budget horror flick in which I would play part of a team of paranormal investigators. The director is looking for unprofessional actors (ding!) with some improv skills (ding?) to carry the story forward, which won't have much dialogue written ahead of time. Obviously, I hope I get it. Even if it's a big piece of shit, it can't help but be fun. And I get to satisfy two childhood dreams: being in a movie and being a ghost buster. Or something close to a ghost buster, certainly not a Ghostbuster, nope. I can't even hold Winston's token black ectoplasmic jock.
Starting a sketch group, or trying to. More news as it develops.
Also, I'm taking part in a Lost podcast. This one will be unique as there will be an ongoing narrative with those 'casting being characters, and each week focuses on a different character, they tell the story of what happened on Lost that week and what happened to them that week. I'm Ahmed, an Egyptian dude with a broken heart and a chip on his shoulder. My favorite season is the fifth (true) and I pine away, bitterly, for the girl who has the group of characters over to watch Lost each week. The girl is seeing someone new, an English bloke who has recently joined the watching party, much to the chagrin of dear Ahmed. It's an ambitious project. First one records on or about Monday. Once it's finished, I think the lot of you should be able to download on iTunes. Barring that, it'll be available somewhere, and I will let you know when I know.
Busy these days.
In other news, I miss you. Love, Jokey.
1.19.2010
1.13.2010
On a motherfuckin' roll
The State of the Union address is coming up. During his speech, I'd love to see Barack Obama give a hearty "Go fuck yourselves" to everyone who is coming out of the woodwork to piss all over his presidency. JiBlets, we're nearly a year into Obama's first term. This means a-holes think this is a fine time to complain. They say things like:
"Uh, so what exactly is so much better now?"
"Hope? Change? I don't think so"
"The economy is still shit. Iraq Hussein Osama can go suck another Arab dick in hell"
"Nothin' says lovin' like somethin' warm from the oven! Hee-hee! Also, Obama is a dick"
This one should be obvious. Not much of anything changes in one year, certainly not a powerful country. Republicans, I give you the benefit of the doubt over and over because frankly, none of my friends do and I like arguing. (Side-bitch: it does no good to vilify either side entirely) But you fuckers make me want to vomit tears of blood-bile. You guys are SO READY to forget the last president and blame all of his fuckups on the new guy. New guy has a list of Shit to Fix of Brobdingnagian size.
And. And! He's doing a LOT. The health care proposal is his baby, and it's a really big deal. He's trying. And he's getting motherfucked by Congress. You can't shoot a marathoner in the knees and then call him a pussy for not finishing the race.
And there are those who have stopped supporting Obama for one reason or another. People have their reasons, it's fine. But I place less of the blame on Obama (let me be clear, I don't think he's Superman or God I just like him because he's intelligent, straight-forward and seemingly honest) and more of it on America. The people. The people who danced in the streets on victory night (full disclosure: I did a little of this). The people who wove a gigantic web of hubris and then got caught in it. The people who deluded themselves into thinking they elected a superhero. The man is just a man, and I think he's doing well. Given enough time, I believe Obama can put this country back on a good path. Time will tell if I'm wrong, but for now, it has only been a year. There's plenty of time to bitch later.
"Uh, so what exactly is so much better now?"
"Hope? Change? I don't think so"
"The economy is still shit. Iraq Hussein Osama can go suck another Arab dick in hell"
"Nothin' says lovin' like somethin' warm from the oven! Hee-hee! Also, Obama is a dick"
This one should be obvious. Not much of anything changes in one year, certainly not a powerful country. Republicans, I give you the benefit of the doubt over and over because frankly, none of my friends do and I like arguing. (Side-bitch: it does no good to vilify either side entirely) But you fuckers make me want to vomit tears of blood-bile. You guys are SO READY to forget the last president and blame all of his fuckups on the new guy. New guy has a list of Shit to Fix of Brobdingnagian size.
And. And! He's doing a LOT. The health care proposal is his baby, and it's a really big deal. He's trying. And he's getting motherfucked by Congress. You can't shoot a marathoner in the knees and then call him a pussy for not finishing the race.
And there are those who have stopped supporting Obama for one reason or another. People have their reasons, it's fine. But I place less of the blame on Obama (let me be clear, I don't think he's Superman or God I just like him because he's intelligent, straight-forward and seemingly honest) and more of it on America. The people. The people who danced in the streets on victory night (full disclosure: I did a little of this). The people who wove a gigantic web of hubris and then got caught in it. The people who deluded themselves into thinking they elected a superhero. The man is just a man, and I think he's doing well. Given enough time, I believe Obama can put this country back on a good path. Time will tell if I'm wrong, but for now, it has only been a year. There's plenty of time to bitch later.
Oh, it's on bitch
En garde! Ha! Hoo! Hi-yah! Parry! Thrust! Suck my epee-pee!
In a battle of wits I don't know if I can hold my own against Mr. Just Like A Jackass. In a blog duel, mayhap. I don't really know how to blog-duel, so...
Stab! Counter! Stab stab! cut cut cut cut cut cut cut
In other non-dueling news (boooo)
Conan O'Brien might leave The Tonight Show after seven months on the air. NBC has burned their meager village down. They have a strong Thursday night lineup, and the unstoppable spinoff juggernaut of Law and Order, and...nothing else. When they're not fucking with the lineup of tested-and-true late night comedians, they're churning out another bullshit season of Heroes, and...other stuff too...I can't even think of one other primetime NBC program off the top of my head. Dr. Kildare? Is that still a show?
Conan will walk if his show is pushed back to 12:05, he believes The Tonight Show should air...Tonight, instead This Morning. In his artfully worded public letter (the man is a Harvard grad and all stand-up dude) released just yesterday, he tells us he doesn't want to be party to the destruction of The Tonight Show. Actually, here's the whole letter, because it's just so awesome:
People of Earth:
In the last few days, I’ve been getting a lot of sympathy calls, and I want to start by making it clear that no one should waste a second feeling sorry for me. For 17 years, I’ve been getting paid to do what I love most and, in a world with real problems, I’ve been absurdly lucky. That said, I’ve been suddenly put in a very public predicament and my bosses are demanding an immediate decision.
Six years ago, I signed a contract with NBC to take over the Tonight Show in June of 2009. Like a lot of us, I grew up watching Johnny Carson every night and the chance to one day sit in that chair has meant everything to me. I worked long and hard to get that opportunity, passed up far more lucrative offers, and since 2004 I have spent literally hundreds of hours thinking of ways to extend the franchise long into the future. It was my mistaken belief that, like my predecessor, I would have the benefit of some time and, just as important, some degree of ratings support from the prime-time schedule. Building a lasting audience at 11:30 is impossible without both.
But sadly, we were never given that chance. After only seven months, with my Tonight Show in its infancy, NBC has decided to react to their terrible difficulties in prime-time by making a change in their long-established late night schedule.
Last Thursday, NBC executives told me they intended to move the Tonight Show to 12:05 to accommodate the Jay Leno Show at 11:35. For 60 years the Tonight Show has aired immediately following the late local news. I sincerely believe that delaying the Tonight Show into the next day to accommodate another comedy program will seriously damage what I consider to be the greatest franchise in the history of broadcasting. The Tonight Show at 12:05 simply isn’t the Tonight Show. Also, if I accept this move I will be knocking the Late Night show, which I inherited from David Letterman and passed on to Jimmy Fallon, out of its long-held time slot. That would hurt the other NBC franchise that I love, and it would be unfair to Jimmy.
So it has come to this: I cannot express in words how much I enjoy hosting this program and what an enormous personal disappointment it is for me to consider losing it. My staff and I have worked unbelievably hard and we are very proud of our contribution to the legacy of the Tonight Show. But I cannot participate in what I honestly believe is its destruction. Some people will make the argument that with DVRs and the Internet a time slot doesn’t matter. But with the Tonight Show, I believe nothing could matter more.
There has been speculation about my going to another network but, to set the record straight, I currently have no other offer and honestly have no idea what happens next. My hope is that NBC and I can resolve this quickly so that my staff, crew, and I can do a show we can be proud of, for a company that values our work.
Have a great day and, for the record, I am truly sorry about my hair; it’s always been that way.
Jay Leno has been vilified in the last couple of days, and while criticisms about how he's a sucky, hackneyed comedian hurled his way are certainly warranted, I'm just not sure he's the bad guy here. He announced he was retiring in five years back in 2004. My suspicions were that the retirement was highly suggested by NBC. Mostly because he was back on the air with a new show like four days after he left The Tonight Show. That ain't retirement. His talk show at ten every night didn't work out. It got atrocious ratings, and affiliates nationwide cried out for its termination. NBC, still having a contract with Leno, remembers that no matter how many stale Judge Ito jokes Leno did, or how Leno substitutes expensive cars for love, he was number one in the late night battle for years, at 11:35. So they conspire to put him back in that slot and regain their number one-itude. Now, Jay Leno would (and may) still look like an asshole if he accepted that offer, willingly driving Conan out, pushing Jimmy Fallon back to starting his program at 1:05, and ending Carson Daly's late night career on NBC (yes, he's the worst, but it's still a raw deal). But the most recent news out right now is that Leno may walk. Blameless or not, Leno must do this. I think he will. I don't think Jay Leno wants to look like that big of a prick. It is my guess, and most fervent hope, that Conan saved his The Tonight Show with that letter. I'll call it right now. If so, that was a fucking brilliant maneuver on CoCo's part.
Yes, the quality of late night network programming isn't all that great these days, Letterman is good because he's David Fucking Letterman, respect. But his heyday is over. Leno, it goes without saying, but it's so much fun: His comedy is like the worst shit you've ever taken. Conan is still fun to watch, but his new timeslot doesn't allow for the exact same brand of irreverence I've grown to love, and some new bits just don't do it for me. But whatever, he's still the most consistent. Anyway, Jimmy Kimmel is ok, Fallon may eventually be good at his job (I doubt it), And Craig Ferguson certainly has the most unconventional late night talk show (unconventionality is what this form needs badly) but it's still missing something to make his show truly great. And that's what is missing from all these shows: greatness. None of them, in my eyes, are great. Letterman used to be, was for a long time, and still has occasional great. Conan has basically the same story. I really hope he gets more time captaining The Tonight Show. He's late-night's best shot at greatness right now. That's what I wish people were more focused on, the quality of these fucking shows. People used to stand around the water cooler at work in the morning and say "Didja see ________(Carson, Letterman, Conan) last night?" Now it's all drama, politics, and "Leno is bullshit for fucking Conan over" and "David Letterman sure fucks a lot of women who work for him" and so on.
Killing blow! HI yah!
In a battle of wits I don't know if I can hold my own against Mr. Just Like A Jackass. In a blog duel, mayhap. I don't really know how to blog-duel, so...
Stab! Counter! Stab stab! cut cut cut cut cut cut cut
In other non-dueling news (boooo)
Conan O'Brien might leave The Tonight Show after seven months on the air. NBC has burned their meager village down. They have a strong Thursday night lineup, and the unstoppable spinoff juggernaut of Law and Order, and...nothing else. When they're not fucking with the lineup of tested-and-true late night comedians, they're churning out another bullshit season of Heroes, and...other stuff too...I can't even think of one other primetime NBC program off the top of my head. Dr. Kildare? Is that still a show?
Conan will walk if his show is pushed back to 12:05, he believes The Tonight Show should air...Tonight, instead This Morning. In his artfully worded public letter (the man is a Harvard grad and all stand-up dude) released just yesterday, he tells us he doesn't want to be party to the destruction of The Tonight Show. Actually, here's the whole letter, because it's just so awesome:
People of Earth:
In the last few days, I’ve been getting a lot of sympathy calls, and I want to start by making it clear that no one should waste a second feeling sorry for me. For 17 years, I’ve been getting paid to do what I love most and, in a world with real problems, I’ve been absurdly lucky. That said, I’ve been suddenly put in a very public predicament and my bosses are demanding an immediate decision.
Six years ago, I signed a contract with NBC to take over the Tonight Show in June of 2009. Like a lot of us, I grew up watching Johnny Carson every night and the chance to one day sit in that chair has meant everything to me. I worked long and hard to get that opportunity, passed up far more lucrative offers, and since 2004 I have spent literally hundreds of hours thinking of ways to extend the franchise long into the future. It was my mistaken belief that, like my predecessor, I would have the benefit of some time and, just as important, some degree of ratings support from the prime-time schedule. Building a lasting audience at 11:30 is impossible without both.
But sadly, we were never given that chance. After only seven months, with my Tonight Show in its infancy, NBC has decided to react to their terrible difficulties in prime-time by making a change in their long-established late night schedule.
Last Thursday, NBC executives told me they intended to move the Tonight Show to 12:05 to accommodate the Jay Leno Show at 11:35. For 60 years the Tonight Show has aired immediately following the late local news. I sincerely believe that delaying the Tonight Show into the next day to accommodate another comedy program will seriously damage what I consider to be the greatest franchise in the history of broadcasting. The Tonight Show at 12:05 simply isn’t the Tonight Show. Also, if I accept this move I will be knocking the Late Night show, which I inherited from David Letterman and passed on to Jimmy Fallon, out of its long-held time slot. That would hurt the other NBC franchise that I love, and it would be unfair to Jimmy.
So it has come to this: I cannot express in words how much I enjoy hosting this program and what an enormous personal disappointment it is for me to consider losing it. My staff and I have worked unbelievably hard and we are very proud of our contribution to the legacy of the Tonight Show. But I cannot participate in what I honestly believe is its destruction. Some people will make the argument that with DVRs and the Internet a time slot doesn’t matter. But with the Tonight Show, I believe nothing could matter more.
There has been speculation about my going to another network but, to set the record straight, I currently have no other offer and honestly have no idea what happens next. My hope is that NBC and I can resolve this quickly so that my staff, crew, and I can do a show we can be proud of, for a company that values our work.
Have a great day and, for the record, I am truly sorry about my hair; it’s always been that way.
Jay Leno has been vilified in the last couple of days, and while criticisms about how he's a sucky, hackneyed comedian hurled his way are certainly warranted, I'm just not sure he's the bad guy here. He announced he was retiring in five years back in 2004. My suspicions were that the retirement was highly suggested by NBC. Mostly because he was back on the air with a new show like four days after he left The Tonight Show. That ain't retirement. His talk show at ten every night didn't work out. It got atrocious ratings, and affiliates nationwide cried out for its termination. NBC, still having a contract with Leno, remembers that no matter how many stale Judge Ito jokes Leno did, or how Leno substitutes expensive cars for love, he was number one in the late night battle for years, at 11:35. So they conspire to put him back in that slot and regain their number one-itude. Now, Jay Leno would (and may) still look like an asshole if he accepted that offer, willingly driving Conan out, pushing Jimmy Fallon back to starting his program at 1:05, and ending Carson Daly's late night career on NBC (yes, he's the worst, but it's still a raw deal). But the most recent news out right now is that Leno may walk. Blameless or not, Leno must do this. I think he will. I don't think Jay Leno wants to look like that big of a prick. It is my guess, and most fervent hope, that Conan saved his The Tonight Show with that letter. I'll call it right now. If so, that was a fucking brilliant maneuver on CoCo's part.
Yes, the quality of late night network programming isn't all that great these days, Letterman is good because he's David Fucking Letterman, respect. But his heyday is over. Leno, it goes without saying, but it's so much fun: His comedy is like the worst shit you've ever taken. Conan is still fun to watch, but his new timeslot doesn't allow for the exact same brand of irreverence I've grown to love, and some new bits just don't do it for me. But whatever, he's still the most consistent. Anyway, Jimmy Kimmel is ok, Fallon may eventually be good at his job (I doubt it), And Craig Ferguson certainly has the most unconventional late night talk show (unconventionality is what this form needs badly) but it's still missing something to make his show truly great. And that's what is missing from all these shows: greatness. None of them, in my eyes, are great. Letterman used to be, was for a long time, and still has occasional great. Conan has basically the same story. I really hope he gets more time captaining The Tonight Show. He's late-night's best shot at greatness right now. That's what I wish people were more focused on, the quality of these fucking shows. People used to stand around the water cooler at work in the morning and say "Didja see ________(Carson, Letterman, Conan) last night?" Now it's all drama, politics, and "Leno is bullshit for fucking Conan over" and "David Letterman sure fucks a lot of women who work for him" and so on.
Killing blow! HI yah!
1.11.2010
further adventures of spider man 4
Real quick-
My previous bitching about the possible creative direction that Spider-Man 4 was taking can be silenced. Sam Raimi's sequel is not happening. Raimi didn't like the script, had a disagreement with Sony, and is off the series. Sony is going in a different direction and rebooting the series, putting Peter Parker back in high school. I don't know if that's a good thing yet. Spparently it means we won't see a potential Vulture played by John Malkovich, who was in talks, but at least we don't get the shitfest that the planned sequel would have been.
Further reading on the subject
My previous bitching about the possible creative direction that Spider-Man 4 was taking can be silenced. Sam Raimi's sequel is not happening. Raimi didn't like the script, had a disagreement with Sony, and is off the series. Sony is going in a different direction and rebooting the series, putting Peter Parker back in high school. I don't know if that's a good thing yet. Spparently it means we won't see a potential Vulture played by John Malkovich, who was in talks, but at least we don't get the shitfest that the planned sequel would have been.
Further reading on the subject
1.10.2010
hey, calm down already
Hey there, JiBlets. Hope your ho-ho-holidays were filled with leapin' lords and nog and tinsel and champagne. With Bowie/Crosby, Charlotte Church, and The Boss assuring you that Santa Claus is coming to town. Play it, big man!
My holidays turned out to be quite lovely, and good for my soul. I was in Ohio for two weeks (felt like a month) and consequently had a lot of down time. Time to think, reflect, poop, and eat ham. And then poop again. Thoughts were thinked, resolutions were made.
I figured out that feebly suckling on Chicago's far-reaching, multi-faceted steel teat isn't enough. Time to make the Windy City my beeotch. How? Well, good intentions and hard work is part of it. This year will explode with comedic output. I have a video camera, and some folks to help me craft comedy gold. I have a wicked awesome improv teacher currently (more on her at some other point), and an increasing desire to perform in some capacity. Auditions, further acting classes and stand up are all on the horizon, growing bigger every time I look.
In short, I'm excited. I feel a sense of freedom that I haven't felt previously.
I've read four books since Christmas. All thoroughly enjoyable. These four books include The Stand, unabridged. God, everyone should read that book. I also read Chuck Klosterman's novel Downtown Owl and also his most recent collection of essays, Eating The Dinosaur. I really like Klosterman's work, and his newest stuff is quality as always. Very intelligent, but slightly less accessible than Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs, say. Maybe a bit darker too.
Uh, what else? I saw Avatar. Worth seeing, for sure. It was fucking impressive. Don't see any reason to watch it ever again, though. The story and plot suck it hard.
Iron Man 2 trailer is out. And it is fucking sweet.
Ok, I blogged. Your turn.
My holidays turned out to be quite lovely, and good for my soul. I was in Ohio for two weeks (felt like a month) and consequently had a lot of down time. Time to think, reflect, poop, and eat ham. And then poop again. Thoughts were thinked, resolutions were made.
I figured out that feebly suckling on Chicago's far-reaching, multi-faceted steel teat isn't enough. Time to make the Windy City my beeotch. How? Well, good intentions and hard work is part of it. This year will explode with comedic output. I have a video camera, and some folks to help me craft comedy gold. I have a wicked awesome improv teacher currently (more on her at some other point), and an increasing desire to perform in some capacity. Auditions, further acting classes and stand up are all on the horizon, growing bigger every time I look.
In short, I'm excited. I feel a sense of freedom that I haven't felt previously.
I've read four books since Christmas. All thoroughly enjoyable. These four books include The Stand, unabridged. God, everyone should read that book. I also read Chuck Klosterman's novel Downtown Owl and also his most recent collection of essays, Eating The Dinosaur. I really like Klosterman's work, and his newest stuff is quality as always. Very intelligent, but slightly less accessible than Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs, say. Maybe a bit darker too.
Uh, what else? I saw Avatar. Worth seeing, for sure. It was fucking impressive. Don't see any reason to watch it ever again, though. The story and plot suck it hard.
Iron Man 2 trailer is out. And it is fucking sweet.
Ok, I blogged. Your turn.
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