The Blog Rises

Hello, ‘Redheads… It’s been too long. I apologize for my dormancy and I can only hope that you can find your way to pretend to care about my musings again. I realize those muscles have atrophied in the year and change of my negligence. It’s 2013, and with a brand new year I figured why not resolve to bring back the blog and give my imaginary fan base a chance to once again splash around in the refreshing waters of Lake Me. I’m going to be taking baby steps, so this installment will be to serve the main purpose of rehashing some of my pithier Facebook statuses as a half-assed year in review. I promise to provide fresher blog innards as we move forward… If we move forward.

Before I get to that, how about that ‘Skins/Seahawks game? The story of that game was downright Shakespearean. Two rookies carrying their teams to the playoffs. The ‘Skins started off quickly, gutting the vaunted Seahawks defense for two quick scores. Then the Seahawks managed to hobble RG3 and they began to creep back into the game. By halftime, the score was nearly even, with the momentum in Seattle’s corner. The legendary sports surgeon, Dr. James Andrews was on the Redskins sideline and I was hoping he’d be able to clap his hands together and pull a Mr. Miyagi on RG3’s knee. The final turd in the Redskins’ playoff punch bowl came when RG3 fumbled when he twisted his knee on a muffed snap. The Seahawks picked up the ball and scored on the ensuing possession. Kirk Cousins came in, but he just didn’t have the juice to bring Washington back. Fittingly, Seattle took a knee to end the game. I’ll be rooting for Seattle to beat Atlanta in the next round, so the NFC Championship game will hopefully be a rematch of the replacement ref debacle with the Green Bay Packers. If I can’t have Peyton Manning vs. the Colts, please let me have this.

Ok, as half-heartedly promised, the best of me (as judged by me) from 2012:

I’m trying to make more adult decisions, like going to the gym, but it’s hard to feel like an adult when I see Bullwinkle Moose in the sweat stain on my shirt post-workout…

Just had lunch at Five Guys… On my soda cup, one of the accolades reads, “Voted Best New Restaurant in Cincinnati”… I think that says more about Cincinnati…

I’m confused by Paula Deen’s Diabetes diagnosis because I thought she WAS Diabetes, the buttery 5th horseman…

Irony: Getting trapped inside your Ford Escape…

Irony: Filling up your TiVo with episodes of Hoarders…

I have a friend who’s a mystery writer, but to pay the bills, he works for a pharmaceutical company… He wrote a twist ending to the side effects on a bottle of Tylenol… “Wow… Violent diarrhea… I did not see that coming…”

Someone asked me why there’s no Russia-themed casino in Vegas… I’m guessing the roulette…

Here’s my idea for Fajardo, Puerto Rico’s new tourism slogan: Hey, who Fajardo?

Encyclopedia Britannica has announced they will cease production of hard copies… Someone should update their Wikipedia page…

Today, I’ll be getting a Spaceman Spiff t-shirt and a Muppets lunchbox… Age is relative and, right now, that relative just happens to be my 5-year old nephew…

Someone at my show last weekend commented that my comedy was “top drawer”… I keep my underpants in the top drawer, so that’s a fairly accurate description…

Now that Andrea and I are engaged, there are some serious decisions to make… I’ve been giving it a lot of thought… I think we’re going to register at SkyMall…

A friend of mine said he saw Kathleen Turner on Californication and that she “looked terrible”… I told him, she didn’t look terrible, she was just drawn that way…

I wish I figured this out before I ordered my current batch of comedy business cards, but I know what I want on the next batch: Jared Stern, Antidepressant…

Just got done with a Mother’s Day mini-bbq on the roof deck… As my parents were leaving, my mom said, “Thanks for having us.” No, Mom… Thanks for having me…

A headline in the Washington Times reads “Woman Killed in Love Quadrangle”… So, that’s four people involved… I think I would’ve gone with “Love Rhombus” or “Para-love-ogram”… Maybe if two of the people were in a long distance relationship, it could be a “Love Rectangle”…

North Carolina has voted to further amend their constitution to redefine Words With Friends as Words Between a Man and a Woman…

Robin and Maurice Gibb are gone and Barry is living with the irony of the group’s biggest hit…

The Department of Education has announced that all History textbooks will now contain the phrase, “Spoiler Alert”…

Toyota has announced a recall for all Highlanders… Except one…

I’ve run into so much road construction lately, it feels like Orange Cone Pride Week… I saw a big orange “END ROAD WORK” sign and assumed it was a protest sign…

There’s a place in Bethesda called Stop Aging Now that offers “natural solutions” to halt the aging process… I can think of one natural way to stop aging and I’ll only charge half of what they’re asking, but I’m gonna need that money up front…

Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise are getting a divorce… That’s what happens when your storybook marriage is written by a crappy sci-fi author…

So, we’re packing up the tent and the sleeping bags and other equipment, and I remarked to Andrea, “That’s a lot of stuff, honey”… She replied, “Well, we want to be comfortable”… THEN WHY ARE WE GOING CAMPING?

Harrison Ford is 70 today… HE BELONGS IN A MUSEUM!

When I get really bored, I like to go to the Hirshhorn museum, put an empty McDonald’s cup against the wall, then sit back and count how many people try to interpret it…

I read a study that said mothers can pass on neuroses to their children… I have a friend who’s pregnant that’s claustrophobic… That kid must be going nuts…

Man, it’s hot outside… I walked past the outdoor display over at Madame Tussauds… Abe Lincoln looked like he opened the Ark of the Covenant…

Kids are growing up too fast these days… The other day, I saw a little girl doodling in a coloring book called 50 Shades of Crayola…

It’s getting late and cut and paste carpal tunnel is starting to set in, so I’ll leave you with an audition video that my buddy Joe and I made for a food challenge show last year. Bon appetit…

  

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No NFL Make Fans Something Something

Hey there, ‘Redheads… I’m a solutions oriented guy. I hate hearing that two sides of a major issue are at an impasse. The impending NFL lockout looms over the sports world as fans brace themselves for potential missed games next season. Sure, the big sticking point for the players is the 18 game season that the owners are trying to push through at the expense of player health. All big issues. You know what the fans care about? Having to watch bowling because football isn’t on. Having to spend time doing chores and shopping with significant others. Having to actually do work because our fantasy football teams are playing golf. Having to resort to gambling on the WNBA (take the under, btw). Productivity will skyrocket. Fresh air consumption will go through the roof. Couch cushions will retain their original shape. The collateral damage will be tremendous. In order to avert this potential catastrophe, I offer a simple solution that will offer a suitable alternative to the fans in the NFL’s absence. Something to keep us locked in during the lockout. Two words: Televised Madden. Why not? The graphics already look damn near real life…

Get a player representative from each team, or a lucky fan, to take the controller from week to week and play out the season. You could even turn off the commentary (but it’s Gus Johnson, so why would you?) and have the respective network broadcast teams call the games. Don’t act like you wouldn’t watch. It’d be a better quality product than the UFL. Or they could always televise the Puppy Regular Season. I’m just spitballing here. Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to this. Get your poop in a group, NFL. The Redskins have horrible decisions to make and I have a fantasy football crown to defend.

See you Thursday.

301

Hey there, ‘Redheads… I hope everyone found a way to keep warm over the weekend. Man it’s cold. It’s like Antarctica cold. Nanook couldn’t take this kind of cold. It’s toughest on the homeless, though I haven’t seen any garbage can fires. I hope they realize, for the environment’s sake, it’s much more responsible to set fire to a recycling bin. ***The more you know

I huddled up with some friends in front of a glowing movie theater screen at midnight on Saturday to let Aliens soothe my shivers like a cup of hot cocoa. My girlfriend could not understand why I was spending $10 to see a movie that I own on DVD. I’ve seen it more times than I can count. It’s on my iPod. I could do a one man show of nothing but Aliens quotes. That’s not the point. Never pass up an opportunity to see a classic flick on the big screen. Speaking of which, Airplane! is coming back to theaters for two days next week, 1/29 @ 12:30pm and 2/1 @ 7pm, at select AMC theaters. Do yourself a favor and spill a couple popcorn kernels in the aisle for Leslie Nielsen.

I finally fine tuned my powers of prognostication and picked a peck of pickled playoff peppers with the Packers and Pittsburgh. After going 2-2 the first two rounds, I managed to go 2-0 this weekend. The question is, will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m 6-4? Both games were pretty entertaining to watch. The Pack went through Chicago quarterbacks like kleenex and good luck getting the image of B.J. Raji’s touchdown celebration dance out of your head. When he gyrated his yellow spandex clad ham hocks, he damn near affected the tides. In the other game, apparently, the Jets’ flight got delayed until halftime, because that’s when they decided to show up and play. They almost came back, but then Ben Roethlisberger did what he does best and forced his way to victory. I’ve got a new nickname for Mark Sanchez. Sisyphus. Sanchez is cursed to push Rex Ryan up a hill, only to watch him roll back down. By the way, thanks to Jim Nance for saying , “Roethlisberger pulled out early” on a fumbled snap. They won’t show that highlight on Sports Center.

Some sad news this morning as fitness pioneer Jack LaLanne died at the age of 96. The irony is, if I went to the gym today, I’d come back feeling like a 96 year old man. According to his wishes, he’ll be juiced.

Over the weekend, the real time action flick, Nick of Time came up in conversation. While it wasn’t a great flick, it contains one of the better cinematic Christopher Walken moments of all time. I’ll leave you with that and two other classics for your viewing pleasure…

See you Tuesday…

Round Up 1.10.11

Hey there, ‘Redheads… Happy Monday to ya. An anagram for “Monday” is “dynamo”, which means “an energetic hard-working person”. The bulk of my Monday has been spent futzing around on the internet, howabout you? I had a pretty fun weekend, which was spent doing manly things, consuming red meat and pork products, guzzling beer, watching playoff football, and playing poker with money I couldn’t afford to lose.

I’m pretty happy with my NFL wildcard predictions. I went 2-2. I will always claim to be as accurate as a coin flip. The big upset, that no one outside of Seattle picked, was the Seahawks lighting up the defending SuperBowl champion Saints for 41 points. The back breaker for New Orleans came on an improbable 67 yard TD run from castoff Buffalo Bill, Marshawn Lynch. Every member of the defense had a shot at tackling him and whiffed like Charlie Brown getting the football pulled away by Lucy. Here’s a replay…

Amazing how far they’ve come with highlight technology these days. Another cool thing about that touchdown, the resulting ruckus created in the stands caused a goddamn earthquake. Up until that point, in the regular season, the only disaster on that field was the game play of the Seattle Seahawks. Philly fans have been known to cause odd natural occurrences too. They make it rain batteries.

Here’s some fun comedy tidbits to take note of. Starting Monday, the 17th, Magooby’s Joke House will attempt to break the world record for longest continuous comedy show. 81 hours. I’ll be making up an hour and a half of that, performing a half hour set on Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday at 8:00pm. Proceeds from this herculean effort benefit the Special Olympics. Come check out a chunk of it and be a part of comedy history. This will probably be my only chance to get in the pages of the Guinness Book of World Records. If this doesn’t work out, I’m going to have to grow my eyebrows really long or something. Also, mark your comedy calendars for March 31st – April 3rd. That’s when I’ll be returning to the DC Improv to feature for Judah Friedlander from 30 Rock. Click the respective links for info and tickets. And maybe become a fan on Facebook, if you haven’t already.

See you tomorrow…

Picks n’ Flicks

Hey there, ‘Redheads… It’s Friday, and my goal of consecutive daily posts, lackluster though they may be, has been met. I’ll take a break over the weekend and start back up on Monday. Still not sure if the week will fall into any kind of format moving forward, but it’s a start. I know, you don’t care, just type the funny. Ok then. Two things, then I’ve got a couple pieces of eye candy for you to suck on.

First, with the recent success of Ted Williams and his flood of job offers, I’ve decided to start writing all of my resumes on cardboard.

Second, the NFL playoffs kick off this weekend, so here are my picks for the wildcard round. I like the Seahawks over the defending SuperBowl champion Saints. You heard me. Outside of Reggie Bush, who’s three weeks back from a broken leg, the Saints don’t have any running backs. They just put Pierre Thomas and Chris Ivory on IR. Plus, the game is being played in Seattle, one of the loudest stadiums in the NFL. Also, my girlfriend is from Washington, so I kinda have to. I’ll take the Chiefs over the Ravens, mostly because I’m worried that the Ravens will succumb to whatever is killing all of these other birds around the world. Plus, I already picked the Chiefs for my rematch of SuperBowl I, so I gotta go with them. I’m in a quandary over the Jets/Colts game. I can’t stand the Colts, but I’d really like the Jets to lose, so the NY papers can make bad “Agony of De-Feet” puns about Rex Ryan’s foot fetish videos. Tie goes to the better joke, so I’ll take the Colts. Finally, in the Eagles/Packers game, I’m taking the cheese to stand alone. The Packers have the D to contain Vick, and this will be payback for when Vick came into Lambeau with the Falcons and handed Green Bay their first home playoff loss.

Here’s the eye candy I mentioned. First, the Ghostbusters trailer re-cut Inception style…

And here’s an uncle putting a whoopin’ on his nephew for acting like a thug on Facebook. The last line is classic…

See ya Monday…

Fantasy Isthmus

Hey there ‘Redheads… I’m still coming down from the high of the first weekend of NFL football. By the time I fully recover, it’ll be time for kickoff again. This is the most wonderful sports time of the year. The first full slate of Sunday games nudged the status quo a little bit. The big shocker of the weekend was the upstart Texans beating the Colts while riding on the back of Arian Foster and his 231 yard/3 TD performance. I do feel bad for Arian Foster. He’s the newly minted star of the NFL season and he’s going to have a devil of a time finding a name for his fan club. “Arian Nation” is probably a bad idea, is all I’m sayin’… It was also nice to see the Redskins put on their yellow big boy pants and win a game. Or should I say, “not lose”… The only reason why the DC media jackals aren’t tearing them completely to shreds is because of that glaring holding call on Cowboy Alex Barron…I’ve taken a good look at the play from various angles and I’ve come to the conclusion that it wasn’t holding. It was a Cobra Clutch. He didn’t have much of a choice. It was either put Orakpo in the Million Dollar Dream or let him break Tony Romo into bite-size pieces. Kinda like what Ray Lewis did to the tight end from the Jets…

I’ll resist the urge to make an Old Spice body wash commercial reference. Instead, I’ll just say that Ray Lewis hit him so hard, it tore Kris Jenkins’ ACL. A lot of injuries in the first week. Packers RB, Ryan Grant is gone for the season, Eagles QB, Kevin Kolb got his brain meat tenderized, and Colts S, Bob Sanders got his annual catastrophic injury. It’s probably wrong, but most of football watching America doesn’t much care except for how their fantasy teams will be impacted. Screw these guys’ careers, I might lose $25. Speaking of which, I did ok in the first week of tripping the football fantastic. In one league, I scored the most points, and in another league, I ate a double-decker turd burger and scored the fewest. I went 2-2, the two wins coming in my money league and my keeper league, so I’ll take a slight setback in the other two.

But enough of that. I did manage to shower and extricate myself from the ass groove in my couch to take in some fine cinema at the local multiplex. I checked out the bloody burrito, Machete. It was everything it needed to be for my taste. A tortilla thin plot, bad guys getting their brains splattered like chunky salsa, and some tasteful nudity. I had my disbelief precariously dangling overhead, waiting for Robert Rodriguez to pummel it with his pulpy revenge fantasy until ludicrous candy spilled out. Steven Segal as a Mexican drug lord? Sure. Rappelling down the side of a building on a guy’s disemboweled intestines? Great. Jessica Alba falling for Danny Trejo, who makes Edward James Olmos look like Zac Efron? Sign me up. It was also nice to see Don Johnson found work. By the way, when you go see Machete, keep in mind that Danny Trejo is 66. That completely blew what was left of my mind. I’m steps away from 35 and I have about as much chance of being an action hero as BP does of getting a float in the Mardi Gras parade.

For those of you in various parts of Virginia, I’ll be in your neck of the woods this weekend. On Friday, I’m featuring at the Lynchburg Comedy Zone and on Saturday, I’ll be in Colonial Beach at The Riverboat with comedy compadres, Tommy Sinbazo and EJ Edmonds. Laugh at me, won’t you?

To be continued…

iBlog

Hey there ‘Redheads… We’re not even a month into 2010 and my blog muscles have begun to atrophy. Well, what’s not done is done. Let’s pretend you’ve missed me and move on. So, I just got done watching as much as my ADD would let me of the State of the Union address. I am not a political wonk (I’m more of a Willy wonk) but, from what I could piece together between flipping channels, Barack killed it. It’s so nice to have a president who is a comfortable public speaker. When Bush gave his SOTU’s, I always thought it was a neat trick when he’d keep talking while Cheney sipped his glass of water.

I’ve also been enjoying the bally-hoo surrounding the latest Apple gizmo, the iPad. This is basically an iPod touch for people with fat fingers and bad eyesight. It’s the giant calculator of our generation. When it comes to Apple products, I enjoy the classics…Old Reliable, the Apple IIc. Sturdy. Dependable. The thing is old enough to legally rent a car and it still works. The screen is a piercing monochrome green. I’ve absorbed enough radiation from it over the years that now, whenever I become angry or outraged, a startling metamorphosis occurs. The picture of it takes up more memory than it has. But now you crazy kids have your newfangled iPads. I think I remember seeing an ad for it awhile back…

On the sports front, it was nice to finally see a couple compelling NFL playoff games. That Vikings/Saints game was one of the best playoff games in recent memory. I’d like to thank the Vikings for letting me dust off one of my favorite lines to describe their 5 turnover performance… *Ahem* I’ve seen fewer balls thrown away at a dog neutering facility. Despite putting the ball on the ground (lookin’ like a fool with your ball on the ground) that many times, they were still in a position to win the game in the closing seconds. I don’t fault Favre for tossing that last interception. He was getting pounded like a veal cutlet for the whole game, so he was probably seeing double at that point. But then the game went to overtime, and this fierce contest between these two great teams was put in the hands of the refs and the review booth. An absolutely hideous pass interference call put the Saints in field goal range, and that was it. I’m not unhappy with the prospect of a Saints/Colts Super Bowl, but no amount of confetti could cover how crappy the end of that game was.

On Saturday night, I’m performing in the DC Improv Comedy Lounge with Jason Weems, Erik Myers, and Aparna Nancherla. They sold out the 8:00, so a 10:30 was added. Do yourself a favor, click on the link, and get your grubby mitts on some tix, while the getting is good. Even if you’re sick of me, this show is gonna be dynamite.

To be continued… iPromise…

Me Olde

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To be continued…

Four… Score.

Hey there ‘Redheads… This introductory part of every installment, where I apologize for not blogging in awhile, then make a few witty self-deprecating statements designed to lower your expectations, while piquing your curiosity to read further… Yeah, I’m having some trouble with that. Let’s just take it as a given and move on, shall we? There’s alot to get to. Where to start? Didja see those VMA’s? Howabout that rabble rousing upstart, Kanye West ruining poor Taylor Swift’s big moment, huh? Wow, and then Beyonce graciously giving Taylor a chance to finish her acceptance speech. Oh, and howabout anybody still giving a shit about MTV? Really, people. Get a hold of yourselves. Arguing over who is more deserving of a video music award is kinda like arguing over who would be faster in a race, if they were both gerbils. It’s arbitrary and irrelevant. And it was probably staged anyway. If this incident proves anything, it’s that Kanye West doesn’t care about white people. I think my feelings can best be expressed in song…written and sung by Adam Dodd

Now that I’ve gotten that out of my system, on to stuff that matters… Like fantasy football. I went 2-2 over the weekend. My four fantasy teams had me crunching numbers like Rain Man on meth. Again, I won’t bore you with all the statistical minutiae, but the Minnesota Vicarious are going to be a hypothetical force to be virtually reckoned with this season, with a passing attack that includes Drew Brees, Randy Moss, Reggie Wayne, and Santonio Holmes. Just sayin‘…

In real NFL goings on, I’d like to thank Jake Delhomme for his 5 turnover performance on Sunday, because it gives me an excuse to trot out one of my favorite lines… *ahem* I’ve seen fewer balls thrown away in a dog neutering facility. And scene. Howabout those Redskins, huh? That offense is a garbage fire. If you go into halftime and your punter has scored your only touchdown, I think it’s time to stop basing your game plan on a previous night’s bar bet. The defense didn’t do much better. I’ve heard of the bend-but-don’t-break defense, but this squad did the kind of bending that is usual reserved for Cirque du Soleil. It’s a long season, and this was just the first game, but the ‘Skins appear to have more holes than the Penthouse Invitational golf tournament.

The inevitable zombie uprising got a little more rhythm, as we lost Patrick Swayze yesterday. He finally got put in a corner by pancreatic cancer. Of course, he’ll be remembered for his iconic roles in Dirty Dancing, Ghost, Road House, Red Dawn, and Point Break, but I’ll always remember him for this little number…


Swayze, we hardly knew ye…

For those of you who give a crap and are curious about this installment’s title, today (or yesterday now) marks this blog’s 4th anniversary. I started this exercise in self importance shortly after moving in to Stately Stern Manor. Thanks for reading…and for not impeaching me.

To be continued…