Twelve Years a Comic

Hey gang. Welcome to March. I’m usually good about celebrating arbitrary milestones, so I’m happy to tell you that this past weekend marked roughly 12 years as a stand-up comic. *throws handful of confetti in the air* I’ve slowed down in these last six months, but I’ve got some shows coming up this month and I can promise I’ll return to the slow grind of showbiz soon. Following through, is another story, but the promise is the first step on the road to sincerity.

Hey, have the Oscars ended yet? What a steaming pile of dreck that was. I normally like Ellen DeGeneres, but the best thing she delivered all night was the stupid pizza. The writing was lazy, costume changes took the place of clever segues, and it felt like she just decided to wing it at some point. The “this person needs no introduction” gag was cute but tired the first time, but why would you need to use it again? Maybe the rest of America gives a damn about how you’re pals with these superstars, but the patter was awkward and forced. Sure, the star power of the selfie that broke Twitter was huge, but we’re there to celebrate these people in moving pictures. And why did they not give the winners the musical hook? The self-important yammering was endless. It’s fun when these guys talk over the music to thank their kids, but you can’t let these egos go unchecked altogether. What I’m trying to say is it was mildly ironic that a night dominated by Gravity was so heavy and tedious. Ellen will not be winning the Emmy for the Oscars, but whoever worked on Goldie Hawn deserves one for special effects.

Luckily, I didn’t watch this celebrity tribute to the Bataan Death March in real time. My wife and I had tickets to see Book of Mormon at the hungry hungry Hippodrome in Baltimore that night. I had plenty of lead time on the DVR to fast forward past the dumb technical awards. This Oscars had no pop. Say what you will about Seth MacFarlane, but at least it felt like he put some effort into it. Also, if you’re tasked with handing out one of these awards, could you learn to read a a goddamn teleprompter or *GASP* memorize the three lines of cliches before you take the stage? Your purpose on this planet is to make us believe that you’re not a stammering idiot when cameras are rolling. The theme of the night was also half-assed. Heroes. Three stupid montages is all they could muster up. Tell you what, Oscar producers, if you want to celebrate movies and make things fun to watch, play this next year…

And don’t get me started on the In Memoriam segment. Harold Ramis deserved his own tribute for his contributions to movie comedy and kudos to Bill Murray for giving him the extra shout out while he was presenting.

I mentioned that I’ve got some shows coming up. The first of those is this Saturday, the 8th at Benny’s Bar & Grill in Potomac. They made a fancy poster and everything…

Also, if you’re a fan of pro wrestling, I’m filling in for my buddy Justin Schlegel on The Rough House Podcast. That should be available for your consumption on Thursday afternoon.

So, enjoy those avenues that the Mild Amusement Express will be traveling on. See you next time.

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Winning, Duh

Hey there, ‘Redheads… Welcome to the first day of March. Once again, my calendar is a flip book and the first two months of the year are gone. They’re not even giving me enough time to procrastinate anymore. Well, I guess time flies when you’re winning. So, for Charlie Sheen, tomorrow it’ll be 2014. He’s absolutely everywhere you look these last two days, giving interviews to anyone within earshot. It’s Charlie’s world and the rest of us are just along for the tour of the chocolate factory. He’s starring in The Sheening, and his two goddesses are those creepy kids in the hallway beckoning him to, “Come play with us, Charlie. For ever and ever and ever.” How many other obscure movie references can I make about this? Charlie has spent the last few years developing a immunity to cocaine powder. My question is, why is everyone shocked by him anymore? The man does not care, he’s not hurting anyone, his kids seem well cared for, and the only reason why his show got cancelled is because CBS got their panties in a bunch. He wanted to work, and he obviously was doing well enough in his condition to hit his marks up until now. Now he’s talking about warlocks and tiger blood, calling Sinatra and Jagger, “droopy-eyed, armless children,” and telling AA to take twelve steps off a cliff, so everyone gets all indignant and wonders how he can sleep at night. Well, my friends, if he decides to sleep, it’s on a giant pile of money with many beautiful women. He’s living the life we all wish we could. If you want to become more of a warlock rock star from Mars in your everyday life, might I recommend Charlie Sheen for the Soul. Charlie Sheen is a hell of a drug.

I have a feeling Gaddafi buried his head into a giant mound of Sheen like Pacino in Scarface. That’s the only guy making less sense than Charlie these days. What also makes no sense is there’s no consensus on how to spell his name. Maybe because if we get it right, he’ll be banished back to the 5th dimension. I’ve seen “Gaddafi,” “Qudhafi,” and my personal favorite, “Khadaffi,” mostly because it makes me think of Daffy Duck. Hard hitting political insight can be found elsewhere.

I should mention the Oscars before I sign off. They stunk. I’ll admit, I didn’t see all of the broadcast. I was over a friend’s house watching as my Terps toyed with my emotions while losing to UNC, while my girlfriend was hosting an Oscar party for her gal pals. Like I had mentioned on Friday, the only thing I was looking forward to was the In Memoriam segment, and they somehow managed to screw that up. Hollywood legends like Tony Curtis and Dennis Hopper got the same amount of screen time as a key grip from Howard the Duck. How do you not have Leslie Neilsen saying his classic, “Don’t call me Shirley,” line from Airplane? And they completely left out Corey Haim and Peter Graves. The hosts were awful. I’ve haven’t seen worse chemistry since the time I tried to make a battery out of a potato in my 4th grade science fair. James Franco was so wooden, he made Al Gore look like Dane Cook. By the end of the show, I thought Anne Hathaway was going to try to cut off her arm to get out from under him. There was such a sigh of relief when Billy Crystal was introduced, I thought the producers has brought him out of cryogenic freeze to take over. This just further proves that you never send an actor to do a comedian’s job.

See you Wednesday.

Friday Round Up

Hey there, ‘Redheads… For all of you who were working for the weekend, congratulations, you’ve arrived. I just got back from a show at my alma mater, the University of Maryland, to judge a preliminary round of the District’s Funniest College competition and tell jokes to the disaffected youth. Not only was the audience packed, but all of the fifteen contestants acquitted themselves nicely. Go Terps. Afterwards, I got to talking to a couple current members of the sketch comedy group I helped found, Sketchup. They’ll be having their 15th anniversary show in April. I feel proud and old at the same time.

Apparently, Charlie Sheen has gone Busey on us. If you haven’t heard his radio rant from yesterday, he referred to himself as a “Vatican assassin warlock.” If that’s not the next movie on SyFy Channel, I’ll be sorely disappointed. He can fight Sharktopus. He rambled for about twenty minutes about how he’s healed himself with his mind and how he’s unappreciated for polishing turds into comedy gold. Do yourself a favor and give it a listen. It makes Mel Gibson sound like Frasier Crane. Now CBS has halted production on Two and a Half Men and everyone is worried what will become of one of the highest rated sitcoms on TV. I have a simple solution for them. Something that has worked for shows like Happy Days and Married with Children. Two words: Ted McGinley. He’s plug and play. Give him a call. I bet his schedule is wide open.

The Oscars are Sunday and the only thing I’m really looking forward to is the In Memoriam segment. I’ve only seen two of the flicks that are up for Best Picture, Inception and The Fighter. All I know is, Inception was one of the most satisfying movie going experiences I’ve had in about five years. It was original and well made. Right now, my opinion of the movie industry isn’t great. So many remakes and reboots and regurgitated crap in 3-D. There are plans in the works to remake Fletch, Highlander, and to reboot Spider-man and Superman. Hollywood, reboot thyself. Just re-release the original movies. You’re just trying to mine the nostalgia anyway. Howabout you leave our memories alone and go make some new ones, huh? By the way, if you pay money to see Big Mommas: Like Father, Like Son, we can’t be friends anymore. Just putting that out there.

See you Monday.

Spring-a-ding-ding

Hey there, ‘Redheads… Spring is here. I know this because I saw one of the first signs of Spring…bird crap on my car. I’m glad you stopped by. The weather has been pretty great lately, so I realize you’ve been spending less time cooped up indoors in front of the warm glow of your computer screen. But none of us can ignore the digital siren song of distraction for long, calling to us with witty status updates, links to shiny videos, or the gently whispered promise of fleeting friendship. We all crave pupil dilation and rapid eye movement and the sun can only provide so much. You’ve seen one beautiful Spring day, you’ve pretty much seen ’em all, but how often do you see crap like this…?

Speaking of celebrity death…ok, if I was typing this in 1988 it would be speaking of celebrity death, but the world is less one Corey today as Corey Haim was found dead of an apparent drug overdose. He’s best remembered for being in Lucas and The Lost Boys, and for being mistaken for Sean Astin in The Goonies. Like most faded child stars from the 80’s, he recently tried to milk the Tiger Beat teat one last time in a reality show called The Two Coreys with the slightly less emotionally scarred Corey Feldman. Now he has to wait a whole year to get on that Oscar segment, but I suppose he’s got nothing but time now. Corey, we hardly knew ye…

One last thing before I sign off. I want to harness the power of my tens of readers out there to VOTE FOR ME FOR BEST BLOG IN THE CITY PAPER’S BEST OF DC 2010. If I’m going to lose another arbitrary popularity contest, I’m going to go down swinging. Sure, it’s an honor just to be nominated, but I nominated myself, so I’d rather get my name in the paper. So, if you enjoy the blog even slightly, click the link and love me a little. Voting ends on March 15th, so get clickin’…

To be continued…