Best line...

...from Fox's 101 Things Removed from the Human Body special:

"He was a miracle. But he was a miracle with a pole stuck through his head."

Another good one: "He went to his doctor, complaining about constipation." (It turns out the guy somehow ate dozens of rusty nails.) What was that doctor-patient conference like?

DOCTOR: "Jerry, I have some bad news. We found out what is causing your stomach pains and constipation."
PATIENT: "What is it? Rotten fish? An ulcer? Low-fiber diet?
DOCTOR: "Actually, according to the chart [glances at chart] it appears to be A BOX OF FUCKING NAILS."
PATIENT: "Oh, yeah... The nails. Kind of makes sense, now that you--"
DOCTOR: "YOU IDIOT, WHY DID YOU EAT NAILS? NOT NAIL. NAILS. YOU ATE MULTIPLE NAILS. AFTER YOU ATE ONE NAIL, YOU DECIDED TO HAVE SEVERAL OTHERS. LIKE IT WAS A SNACK PACK. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?"
PATIENT: "Um, too much iron?"

Sigh

I just lost a friend. You can read about it on her web page. Chat link here.

P.S. The message to Greg Proops--it's all true.

Goodbye, Pancake City. Hello...

I emailed a version of yesterday's post to my friend, Kate, before putting it on the blog. She responded:

I just read this exact paragraph on your blog. Are you going to change the name from "Wonderful World of Pancakes" to "Best of Correspondence with Kate"? I think that's a great idea.

You got it! If anyone else would like to make a name request, let me know.

Tonight's Peformance Magically Cancelled

I'm skipping WiseAcres tonight. On an unrelated note, my sister Michele brought home the new Harry Potter book. I'm not supposed to tell anyone since she promised Tina, sister #2, that she would get it first. But Tina never reads my web page, so I'll be able to finish it in the next two days and she'll never know. Assuming I don't call Tina and read the first page to her over the phone. Which would be a very bad assumption to make.

My decision to skip WiseAcres actually has nothing to do with Harry Potter. Last night, my act--five minutes of me saying non-sequiturs in the voice of George Washington--bombed. It turns out, predominately black audiences don't like dead slave owners talking to them. Who'd had thunk?

It turns out white families don't like G.W. jokes either. I did my routine in front of my family. They had to open the windows to let out the stink. In the words of Michele: "This sucks! And we're your family."

So the G.W. stuff is permanently buried, I'm putting my experimental comedy phase on pause, and working on a normal routine. I have no regret about doing this. It's too frustrating going up again and again and getting no laughs.

...

You know what's really insulting? When someone tells you to keep your day job, and you don't have one.

Ender's Game

I just finished reading Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card. It's an amazing science fiction book. If you're not a big time fool, you should check it out.

Modernism, Postmodernism, ...

This is either going to sound stupid or prescient in six months...This article and Trigger Happy TV are two symbols of a new movement that is currently evolving and hasn't grown to a point where it is easily identifiable and nameable.

I apologize for the vagueness--I just thought of this a few minutes ago--but my gut tells me there is something unique about society today that has given birth to these types of pranks. Maybe it's a reaction to reality TV, based on these premises:

1. Real life is different from television. (Ten years ago, almost all television programs clearly existed in a different, more exaggerated world than the one we wash our laundry and drive to work in.)

2. In the past several years, non-scripted reality programs have "hijacked" reality and brought it into the TV world. In other words, the definition of what TV is (previously, only scripted programs) has expanded, and the definition of what is uniquely real life (previously, boring stuff like living in a house with roommates) has shrunk.

3. In response to this, perhaps out of subconscious resentment at having real life processed for entertainment rather than experienced, some people have begun to take the weirdest, most artificial elements that used to be exclusive to the TV world and put them in real life (e.g. an improv group taking all 39 listening booths at a Virgin Megastore)

Hence Trigger Happy TV and the pranks by the people in these articles. I'm unsure about what I wrote for #3. I could very well be off. But I do believe this form of a prank is unique to our time and has been spurned somehow by conditions in the last ten years. If you want to add your own thoughts to what's motivating these types of pranks, I'll link to your web page or post your comments here.

Update1: The real motivation for these pranks may be a "I've seen everything" attitude shared by many people, created both by an entertainment culture that has almost reached its limit trying to one-up itself, and greater social acceptance of "different people." You may look twice if you see a man walk down the street in full drag, but think of how someone would have reacted 30 years ago (or 30 years from now).

So these pranks can be looked at as another way to one-up what has been done before (e.g. a man dressed in a squirrel suit rather than drag) or as a way to gently poke fun at people who bury themselves in their own worlds because the real world isn't interesting enough to deserve their attention. Perhaps before, comedy and drama asked the question, "How would Character X act in this unusual situation?" and now we want to know, "How would real people act in this unusual situation?"

I'm probably done pontificating on this line of thought. Although I do enjoy using the word "pontificating".

GET OFF THE STAGE!

I'm going to an open mike Tuesday and Wednesday. This is an open invite to anyone who wants to come and share the laughter...at me. A few caveats. It's all new material (read: some good, some bad.) I'm not sure I'll get stage time either day. And I'll be talking in the voice of George Washington for most of the time. But read this rave review of a rehearsal of my act from my friends Sean and Deb:

Sean: "It sucked less than last time."
Deb: "Oh, yeah. It definitely sucked less than last time."
Sean: "I mean, last time REALLY sucked."
Deb: "Remember when he tried to do an impression of the Dalai Lama, but he forgot his lines and farted?"
Sean: "Do I? I watch the video every time I'm plagued by feelings of inadequacy."
[Sean and Deb go on to reminisce for five minutes on my last act.]

Where At?
Tuesday: 8:00, The Cave (Washington D.C.)
Wednesday: 8:00, WiseAcres (Tysons Corner, VA)

Election Chances of the Democratic Presidental Candidates

Carol Moseley Braun
Carol-Moseley-Braun-Paper-Towel-Too-Many-Names-Buh-Bye.

Howard Dean
Howard the Duck. Next.

John Edwards
Can’t win South unless he renames himself John John.

John Kerry
Name can be rearranged to spell HORNY JERK. As much as I liked the last horny jerk...

Dick Gephardt
Only if his VP is Pussy Galore.

Bob Graham
Name sounds way too much like a door-to-door Bible salesman.

Dennis Kucinich
In school, kids called him “Cuckoo Bitch”. Let’s listen to the children.

Joe Lieberman
Look, buddy. When you’re President, stuff happens on Saturday besides the Morning Cartoon Fun Hour on the WB. If I wanted someone who skips work regularly, I’d cave in to the Hell Lord Morris and vote for a Double Dubya.

Al Sharpton
Howard Dean called him a "second-tier candidate" and he took it as a compliment.

Voltron
Okay, he hasn’t announced his candidacy yet, but once he does, there are going to be a lot more elephant wastebaskets in the world.

Which Presidential Candidate Is Right For You?

Answer a short series of questions and find out which Presidential candidate is right for you. According to the quiz, my two candidates are Dennis Kucinich (100%) and Howard Dean (99%). These picks are probably accurate, although I have a few disagreements with both candidates. George W. Bush, making a strong showing, edged out Howard Phillips (Constitution party) and Lyndon LaRouche ("Prepare for the RevoLaRouchian!").

Send me an email with your results so I can have another reason to like or hate you. (Just kidding. The lens I use to look at people is only made up of important things: size of tail fin on car, favorite breakfast cereal marshmallow, number of vowels in name...)

New Column

It's a TV show pitch I wrote a while ago called, "Abraham Lincoln and His All-Star Friends." It's not currently in development, so if there are any producers out there who want to snatch it up, let me know!
***

Abraham Lincoln and his All-Star Friends

Abraham Lincoln and his All-Star Friends is a half-hour sitcom that is almost exactly like Seinfeld, except Abraham Lincoln is Jerry, Bigfoot is George, a talking chicken is Elaine, and Voltaire is Kramer.

Abe, Bigfoot, Henrietta, and Voltaire all live in Topeka, Kansas, which looks exactly like New York. (In Episode 7, a passer-by will tell the gang, "Hey buddy, you're not in Kansas anymore." The gang will then start referring to the area as New York.) Abraham works at Starbucks during the day, and tries to make it as an amateur rapper at night. Each episode starts off with a short rap by Abraham that sets the stage for the show.

A Note
Abraham Lincoln's voice is not affected in any way. It stands out no more than the voice of the average Joe. It also compares favorably with unaverage Joes.

Other Characters
Bigfoot
Bigfoot, to put it mildly, is extraordinarily lazy. He attributes his laziness to his large size and "slow metabolism" but, as his mother often points out, the Yeti already owns two publishing homes and a beach home in Hawaii. Bigfoot puts most his energy into avoiding discomfort. When driving on a hot day, he will match the speed of an adjacent bus so he can stay in the bus' shade. In one episode, he plots to get a larger office because those offices have larger desks, and he has to curl in a ball when he sleeps under his current desk.

Bigfoot also falls in love very frequently. The bounce of a woman's hair or the twirl of her skirt is enough to make him smitten. Unfortunately, Bigfoot has a Big Mouth, and his dating skills leave much to be desired.

Henrietta
Besides the fact that she is dressed as a chicken in a business suit, Henrietta is the most down-to-Earth of the gang. She is the archetypal independent woman: we never see her parents, she stands up to people, and she's not shy about speaking her mind. The men she is attracted to always have a quirk about them (e.g. picks their ears, makes horse sounds in bed, only thinks about her during non-working hours.) Without Henrietta, Voltaire and Bigfoot would have blown themselves up or got thrown in jail a long time ago.

Voltaire
Absent-minded, almost brilliant, and bumbling, Voltaire is passionately engaged one moment and lost in his own fantasies the next. His thoughts are often discombobulated and scattered, and he goes on long-winded monologues about his latest fanciful theory. He spends much of his time trying to get his crazy theories to work (like "If everyone on the street uses a yellow umbrella, the rain will think it is raining on the sun. This will confuse the rain and it will start raining upwards.")

Somehow though, Voltaire always ends up being the one person who doesn't come worse off from his crazy theories.

Episode Samples
Episode 1: "What's in a Name?"
Abraham Lincoln rapping career has stalled, and he hasn't had a chance to make it to the big time. Voltaire suggests the problem is his stage name, "Slammin' Abrahamin'". The gang brainstorms new names without much success. Meanwhile, Abraham's girlfriend (Terri Hatcher) develops a sneaking suspicion that Abraham doesn't know the nickname she got for her special talent in bed.

At the end of the episode, she challenges Abraham to say her nickname, and walks out in a huff when he offers some pitiful guesses. Before she leaves, she gives him her name: "Legs." Abraham loses a babe, but the name gives him the 'A Ha!" moment for the perfect stage name: "Green Eggs and Abraham."

Episode 2: "Cock a Doodle Doo"
Henrietta is fed up with the glass ceiling at Turkey Incorporated. Although she often scrambles to cover for her bosses' screw-ups, she is invisible to the old boys club, the members of which consider her ideas "preposterous."

For instance, after four quarters of falling profits, she unsuccessfully tries to get Turkey Inc. to expand its product beyond turkeys ("But then we wouldn't be Turkey Inc.!") Voltaire suggests she gets fired and applies for a job as "Henry", dressed as a man. The plan works almost too well. She shoots up the corporate ladder in days and gets invited to a steam bath with the board. Bigfoot comes along and tries to "cover" for her.

Episode 5: "Who Has Time For Love?"
Bigfoot falls in love with Dessiré, a cute girl who works in the dark backroom of a doughnut shop. Bigfoot asks Abraham for a few love pointers. Abraham, knowing Bigfoot is setting himself up to get his heart broken, gives cynical advice in an attempt to discourage him.

"Average Joes can't compete
With guys on the street.
If you want to have the honeys /
you gotta have the money."

Short on cash but long on desire, Bigfoot asks Henrietta and Voltaire for some advice on how to make money fast and without actually doing much work. Henrietta suggests investing in a hot stock her uncle clued her in about yesterday. Voltaire suggests making a time machine, traveling 1000 years to the past, and putting a Nordic coin in a bank account. Bigfoot dismisses Voltaire's crazy scheme and calls his parents to wire him some money for, uh, "an operation to replace his appendix."

Bigfoot gets the money the next day and is about to call his broker when Voltaire visits him …in a brand-new suit, Nordic battle shield, and matching Rolodex watch.

Bigfoot runs to an antique shop and uses all his money to buy a Nordic coin. He gets back and gives the coin to Voltaire. That's when he realizes Voltaire hasn't actually tried his time machine yet--he just borrowed these items from a friend because his theory is that he needs these three objects for his time machine to work. The time machine doesn't work.

Just when things couldn't get any worse, Bigfoot's parents come with "Get Well" balloons and homemade soup for a surprise visit. They also want to see Bigfoot's appendix scar.

Episode 10: "A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse."
Episode 10 will be written entirely in iambic pentameter. This will not be announced or promoted in any way.

Episode 13: "Lucky Day"
In a first for a broadcast sitcom, the show will decide to run for only 13 episodes. In an escalating series of fortunes and misfortunes that end with the four of them sentenced to be "normal", this episode will completely tie up any loose ends in a way that precludes even the slightest possibility that the show will continue. Although some would question this strategy, this detail will probably not be the "sticking point" for getting this show to air.

The pilot script is already written, and not by monkeys. I can provide it upon request.

(Note: Image of Lincoln stolen from kid on Internet.)

Seabiscut

The movie Seabiscut, a drama about the surprising success of one of the most famous horses in racing lore, is receiving raves for its pacing, emotional content, and surprise ending. If you know you won't have time to check the movie or book out, then you might as well take a look at a screen capture of the surprise ending.

Changes

As you can tell, I played around with the site formatting. If you don't like it, you can suck it.

Word of the Day

omphaloskepsis--contemplation of one's navel

Happy Birthday, Michele!

It’s my sister’s birthday today. She is now 25. I thought of writing her a poem (“Dear Michele / You no longer smell”) but opted for another display of affection. Michele, by the way, the books I got you arrived…oh, wait a minute. You won’t be coming until next week. Guess I’ll have to read them! I got you another copy of the new Harry Potter book. It’s great. It’s totally better than your copy. And they match. When people ask you why you have two copies of "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix", you can tell them, “Cause I’m twice the Harry Potter fan than you are, fool!” Then you can pity their fool ass.

I know what you’re thinking. No, it was nothing. You’re welcome. If you enjoy sending birthday wishes to strangers, in this case The Birthday Girl, I am sure she would be thrilled to receive them.

Bad Luck for Ducks

In the past few years, the National Zoo in D.C. has lost tens of ducks and birds from attacks by animals such as foxes.

For wild animals, the zoo is essentially a giant box of Skittles. The zoo ducks are all gathered in a pen, their wings are clipped, and the electrified fence around them provides as much protection as a plastic wrapper provides against a two-year-old who learned how to take off Mommy’s mittens. Taste the rainbow…Northern Pintail, Teal, Mandarin…

Cockeyed

There is this awesome web site called Cockeyed.com. Essentially, it's about a guy who has a lot of fun with life. One of the best sections is "Incredible Stuff I Made", like this Halloween costume.

P-P-P-Poem

I spent way too much time deciding if I should capitalize all of the p's in the title. Anyway...

I wrote a poem.

Forward

My mouth
gurgles words
like a brook choked
by mud. They float

in a pond
like pay, pay,
paper swans. They soak

the water, the scum,
bump into the lily, and drown.

Monks write haiku
on this same rice paper
and let them glide down a river
folded into boats
never read.

I wish I could fold my words
into boats, and not care
if they leaked, or if
the sterns unfold
into tails, waving

for help

before they crumple,
silently,
in the middle of a closed sea.

Bandwidth

I have 15,000 MB of bandwidth to use per month. I barely use 500 MB. Any suggestions on how I should use the rest? I feel like I have paid utilities and I'm shutting off the shower before I leave the apartment. What a waste. Anyone know any orphans whose Flash-laden web site needs a home and plenty of bandwidth to eat? Maybe I should cave in to the people looking for "sexy pancake" and "aimal sex" and host Jason's Sexy Pancake Woman Sex With Aimal Site (Hose, Donky, you name it)

...

Are you a cheapskate or an expensive skate? What about a moderate-priced skate? At what point in American society was skating so pervasive that labeling someone as a cheap version of the transportation was an insult? We need to update the term. Anyone want to buy me flowers? No? Fine. Be a cheapjeep.

Welcome, Misled Google Searchers

Anyone want to explain to me why someone, nay, multiple people, would search for "sexy pancake"?

My stand-up show last night...

* It didn’t go so well.
* I ended my set by saying, “Please don’t shoot me.”
* The show was running late. I promised the MC I would wrap it up in 5 minutes. He thanked me and said he would flash a light to let me know when my time was up.
* I went 8 and ½ minutes. I didn’t see the MC madly waving the light until I cried, “Somebody shine the light, please!” Which is somewhat ironic because, as you can tell, I really wanted to get off the stage.
* If you didn’t infer this yet, a lot of my material bombed. Also, there were many long pauses where I forgot what I was going to say. I blamed it on the stuttering.
* I did better than two of the comedians that night.
* There were 17 comedians.
* The two I did better than were bigots.

On the plus side, I learned many valuable lessons:

1. I’m not one of those comedians who can “wing” it. I can’t even “leg” it. I need to memorize my act like a monkey memorizes the drawer that the researcher hides the bananas in at night.

2. Audiences don’t like George Washington penis jokes.

3. I am what I despise. I would rant internally whenever I saw an amateur comic bash himself on stage or become defensive when the audience doesn’t respond to his material. Yet there’s something about being on stage that breaks down my defenses and allows this vulnerable, self-doubting part of myself to come out, cringing, as he expects to be stabbed. If this part of myself could tell good jokes it wouldn’t be an issue, but unfortunately his timing is a little off.

Almost finally, thanks to Sterling Krauss, a friend and very funny comedian, for giving me a little pep talk and some pointers after the show.

Finally, after listening to the whole tape, here’s a clip of one of the good parts (must…resist desire…to put good in quotes...damn it...Playdoh irony too powerful..."good" "good" "good" "good"...):

(I was holding a dollar bill)
A few words of wisdom from George Washington

Ahh. Now my shame is public. I feel so much better.

WTC Memorial

(AP) "A record 5,200 groups from around the world submitted proposals for a memorial to the victims of the World Trade Center attack, officials announced Thursday. The submissions came from 62 nations and every U.S. state except Alaska, said Kevin Rampe, president of the Lower Manhattan Development Corp."

Damn al-Queda loving Eskimos.

I Wish I Knew

"What Are You Eating Today?" That's Arby's new slogan. Let's see...Double Roast Beast Sandwich...costs 99 cents...I have 50/50 on meat.

Deficit Solution

The 2003 budget deficit is now at a record $455 billion. Can't the U.S. government get a Visa and transfer the deficit to it? With 0% on balance transfers for the first few months, we'll save billions in interest alone. And once the grace period runs out...hello MasterCard! I know the government's credit history is shaky, but maybe it could start with a gold card and work its way up to a platinum.

Another benefit to this plan is that currently, the government borrows from the future generation of adults, whose rebuttal against the practice is, "Wah! Wah!" If you borrow from a credit card company, you know it's going to get its money back, and the company isn't going to wait 20 years to collect. Congress want to pass tax cuts for the rich without cutting spending? Fine. Repo Man gets the Capitol. Congress can hold session in the cafeteria until they work out a finance plan.

Ehhh...

I went to another open mike tonight. I was Da Bomb. Or, if you want to be anal about it, I bombed. My subconscious must have expected I was going to suck because I forgot to record my act, a mistake that saves me from having to burn the tape afterwards. Midway through my act, I thought, "This is really rough. I better skip the new stuff and go to the A material." Then I thought, "This is my 4th time on stage. I don't have any A material." I used to be annoyed at comics who took up their set lists with them on stage, but after forgetting two of my bits, I may take mine up with me next time.

Although I didn't do well, I'm still glad I went. The more experience, the better.

Red Fish, Blue Fish. Yellow Cake, Green Cake.

Halfway through this Washington Post article, the authors catalog the smörgåsbord of explanations offered by the Bush administration on why the claim that Iraq tried to buy a box of Instant Yellowcake from Niger was included in the State of the Union address. It's quite funny. The situation reminds me of the story where four teenagers come home past their curfew, make up a tale that their car had a flat, but forget to agree which tire was flat before being interrogated individually by their parents.

One reason this is a serious problem for the Bush administration is that many people voted for him because they thought he had more integrity that the Clinton/Gore administration. Both possibilities behind why the uranium claim was included in the State of the Union address--that the Bush administration willfully lied or they lied to themselves by ignoring the evidence--poses a serious threat to the image of Bush's integrity.

My guess is that they knew the evidence was shaky, but wanted to put it in so badly that they justified including it because the CIA and other sources said "this is probably wrong" rather than "this is absolutely wrong". I think they also assumed that people would forget the claim after they found biological and chemical weapons in Iraq. Who's going to care about one claim when the boxes of Acme Anthrax show up, right?

On a side note, there was a lot of evidence that Hussein had some biological and chemical weapon capabilities. So where are the weapons? Pick your possibility: Hussein didn't have any weapons (unlikely), he destroyed them shortly before being invaded, they're in Iraq but we haven't found them yet, or they're now in the hands of 50 terrorist groups.

Reason #23 Why I Love the Japanese

Now this is the real way to play table tennis. Link from #!/usr/bin/girl.

Hot (Uranium) Potato

Today... (from Yahoo)

The CIA approved in advance President Bush's accusation in a speech that Iraq had sought to acquire nuclear material from Africa, U.S. National Security Adviser Condoleezza Rice said on Friday.

Now, before you cynics cry that the Bush administration is trying to pass the blame for this, I'd like to point out that Condi's statement is absolutely true.

From CBS.com:

CIA officials warned members of the president’s National Security Council staff the intelligence was not good enough to make the flat statement Iraq tried to buy uranium from Africa, sources tell CBS News.

The White House officials responded that the September paper issued by the British government contained the unequivocal assertion: "Iraq has ... sought significant quantities of uranium from Africa."

As long as the statement was attributed to British Intelligence, the White House officials argued, it would be factually accurate. The CIA officials dropped their objections and that's how the charge was delivered.

See? The CIA did approve it. Here's another way of looking at the situation:

(Outside a crowded Manhattan nightclub)
CLUB OWNER: "Hi Jerry."
BOUNCER: [unlatches velvet rope] "Hello sir. Come on...um, who's that with you?"
CLUB OWNER: "It's my sister's kid, Willie. Or Billy. Something like that."
KID: "I'm never going to wash my armpits. See?"
BOUNCER: "I really can't let him in here. If the police catch us..."
CLUB OWNER: "He looks at least 21."
KID: "Fart man! Da da da da da da, da da da da da da. Fart man!"
BOUNCER: "Um..."
CLUB OWNER: "Look. Hey you. How old does he look to you?"
DRUNKEN BRITISH GIRL LEANING ON POLE TO SUPPORT HIMSELF: "35, guv'ner! But his twin looks 62!"
CLUB OWNER: "See? If the police catch him, just say that she told you he was legal. Come on Willie."
KID: "The Skank Pokemon will be mine!"
[OWNER + KID push past bouncer into club. BRITISH GIRL tips over and falls face down.]
BOUNCER: [sigh] "At least he'll take the fall if he gets caught."

If you want more info on the situation, TPM is the place to go.

. . .

“Suddenly, a leap by those powerful hind limbs as the jaguar bursts through the vegetation, closing the distance between him and the peccary within a blink of an eye. In an instant, the canines clamp the skull, and the large front paws grab and twist the neck sideways at an impossible angle. The peccary is dead before it hits the ground, its skull pulled apart by the motion of the jaguar’s jaws.”

From Jaguar, by Alan Rabinowitz

The light turned red. An ant scurried up my leg, so I flicked it off. It landed in my car’s change holder and tried to crawl away. His body felt like a pebble as I pressed my finger on its frame. It writhed, twitching in a circle. I pressed until I heard a crack. It was still twitching. I ground my finger the way one would extinguish a cigarette with the tip of a boot. It moved slower, flipping in circles.

Many years ago, I wrote a story where I asked, “What if ants could scream?” How different is that person from me? I got a piece of paper and smeared his body away like an eraser over a spare apostrophe. The story I wrote had many mistakes, but my classmates loved it. The light turned green and it was time to go.

$500 Oil Change

I went in for an oil change today at Midas. I ended up spending $500 getting various belts tightened, oils flushed, and a sliced tire replaced. You know how a miniature devil and angel will pop on the shoulders of a cartoon character facing a moral dilemma? I'll renounce my agnosticism and join any religion that offers to send down a tiny mechanic and goon to sit on your shoulders when you enter a car repair shop. The mechanic can tell you if the work is necessary, and the goon can poke the service writer with a pitchfork until he lowers the price.

Maybe I should have gotten a second opinion or shopped around. Five hundred dollars is about what I spent on non-essential purchases in the past 6 months. But the stress of driving in a dilapidated car and constantly worrying if it is going to break down (a line of thought sparked by the direct connection of the amount of rumbling my car makes to how long I wait at a red light) can wear one down after a while. Also, spending that amount of money makes my effort to put off a $55 dentist appointment seem a whole lot sillier.

Then again, the oil change was just supposed to be $30.

Everything You Need To Know About My Mom, Part II

(At dinner last weekend. Tina is my sister.)
TINA: "Mom, you made it to Jason's web page."
MOM: "What for?"
TINA: "He wrote that you called him Elmo and he doesn't know why."
MOM: [laughing] "Because he never responds to our emails! He's always missing."
[TINA and I exchanged confused glances]
ME: "Mom, I still don't get it. "
MOM: "You know, Elmo. The guy who always hides in the crowd and you have to find him."
TINA: "Mom, that's WALDO. Elmo is the muppet on Sesame Street."
MOM: [laughing] "Oh! I meant to call him Waldo! "

I love my family.

More Frightening Than Freddie Krueger

My roommate entered the bathroom right after I took a dump. It was like a horror movie. I swiveled around in the chair in my room as he grabbed the doorknob. "Noooooooooo!" I yelled, my vocal chords undulating in slow motion. But it was too late. The door cracked open and the putrid spirits of the Netherbowl flew out, spiraling down the staircase like a drill and scaring away dust balls, Freon, and the faint smell of socks.

The Bat Cave

I went to the open mike at “The Bat Cave” at the DC Arts Center today. Once a month, a lovely woman named Dee Synder (she introduced herself as just “Dee”, which threw me off because I was expecting "Dee Dee" and I kept waiting) runs a free-for-all session where almost anything goes—stand up comedy, serious poetry, acoustic music… Okay, that’s not almost anything, but it’s a few pant sizes wider than most open mikes.

The audience (about 15 people today) is supportive and the atmosphere is very low key. Anyone in the D.C. area who has thought of doing any type of performing should give it a try. It’s a good, low-stakes way of gaining experience. More info here.

I tried a few new jokes and read Lying About Robots College, an essay I wrote months ago. The new jokes went great, but the essay only received chuckles. I’m chalking it up as an example of something that's funnier read than spoken (you’re welcome to tell me it’s not funny read either).

Next month, I’m going to either do stand up or write something specifically to be spoken. If you’re interested in either watching or performing in the show, send me an email and we can meet up.

Move Over Ken. Hulk Is Here.

This story on the "enhanced" Hulk doll is spreading across the Internet as fast as you can say "giant Cheeto". It's obvious that the toy manufacturer, Play By Play, didn't include a third arm on the actual doll. I'd like to find out if the doll is a hoax by The Sun, a knock-off by an adult toy company, or--how's this for cynicism--planted by Play by Play to drum up interest and orders for the doll.

The Next Hollywood Smash

(thanks to Executive Producer Andrew Malone for help with the future Oscar-winning concept)

Coming to theaters in Summer 2004...

Bad Balls
During a routine physical, photocopier repair technician Clark Middleton (Elijah Wood) is gassed by al Queda terrorists and taken to their secret medical facility, where Middleton’s balls are replaced with miniature bombs. The bombs (left testicle played by Robin Williams, right one by Adam Sandler) are packed with enough C4 to detonate a city block and will go off in 24 hours. Faced with the last day of his life and the power to destroy, what will Clark do? Engage in a wild, hedonistic spree? Contact his long-lost Dad? Rush to a deserted island? If penis Sean Connery has anything to say about the matter, it will be go after the terrorists!

Origami

This man is moderately talented at origami. Also, I am moderately hairy.

Yay Washington Post!

The Washington Post has an editorial on gay marriage today. I prepared to twinge before I read it--newspaper editorial boards aren't always bastions for progressive thinking--but what they wrote is awesome. It was almost enough to make me renew my daily subscription to the post. Almost. Once they cave in to my demand to include a special "These Comics Suck" page in the comics section--which would include Family Circus, The Wizard of Id, Mark Trail (the days that he's not punching a poacher) and Ziggy, which isn't in the Post's comic page, but would be brought back just for this special occasion--then we can talk.

The Missing Yucca

This is a great story.

Stand-up, Take II

Yesterday I did my first stand-up act at a comedy club (WiseAcres in Tysons Corner, Virginia). I was more nervous going up in front of 50 non-stutterers then I was going up in front of 300 people who stutter, but once I got up on stage I felt fairly comfortable. It went poorly, okay, pretty good, lousy, so-so, and not bad. Not bad is where I am after listening to it a half-dozen times. I wasn't feeling that good right after I got off because, as much as I tried to prepare myself, I got angry at the audience members who laughed at me instead of with me. Then, after listening to my performance a few times, I felt better that my material did get some laughs and that I got up there and did it. I was also pleasantly surprised that most of my words were intelligible. I talk fast and don't enunciate sometimes in everyday speech, and I was expecting this trait to be much more prominent on stage than it was.

Another surprise is that I came in at 5 and a 1/2 minutes, in the range of the right amount of stage time (5-7 minutes). I cut some material I didn't have faith in before I got on stage and was expecting to come in a few minutes shorter (even with the stuttering).

You can listen to my act here (5.5 mb). I put it up more to share my experience with friends and families than to provide laughs to the Internet universe, but I figure a few other people might be interested in the novelty of a stuttering comedian.

I'm looking forward to an open mike next week where non stand-up comedy, like story telling, is accepted. I'm going to read one of my posts from the web page.

If you have comments or constructive criticism, go ahead and send it. I'll probably give it another try in a few weeks. And thank you to everyone who congratulated me for doing stand-up last weekend. The encouragement meant a lot to me.

EXPIRD

After living in Maryland for my whole life, I moved to Virginia two years ago. I have found out that it’s a decent place to live as long as you live 25 miles from the alpha waves emitting from the sanity beacon behind the Washington Monument—waves that induce people to buy single-digit numbers of shotguns and occasionally vote Democratic.

Yet I still have my Maryland plates and registration, somehow dodging the once-a-month visits the police make to my neighborhood to round up the DMV delinquents. The story of why I haven’t changed my registration is a complicated one mixed with nostalgia, laziness, and frugality. Okay, it’s not complicated at all. I’m a cheap, lazy bastard. And if you think it’s foolish to put off buying something that you’re going to have to purchase eventually, go complain to my teeth.

My time may be up soon though. A few days ago, as I walked home from my car, I saw a police officer give a ticket to a driver for having an expired registration. Hmm. My car was parked right across the street from the forlorn driver. I hopped up the steps to my townhouse, put down my groceries, counted to 30, left, whistled a jaunty tune as I skipped pass the officer and back to my car, and then SCARED THE POOP OUT OF A SQUIRREL AS I RACED BACK TO MARYLAND.

Okay, I didn’t actually go to another state, but I did drive to the library and enter a state of sorts…the state of learning. Okay, I didn’t actually learn anything. I spent an hour reading X-Men graphic novels. But I did learn a valuable lesson from today’s experience: SEE YOU IN AUGUST, COPPER!

Actually, now that I think about it, I hope not to see you in August. But if I do see you in August, I HOPE TO SEE YOU AND NOT BE YOU!

Scratch that. If I were you, I would never get a ticket. Also, I would have a club to beat cockroaches and nails. If you were me, you’d sleep in until noon and then arrest a gang of Cheerios. “Into the hole, perpetrators!”

So I hope to see you and be you, because if I am you, I will see you in the mirror when I wake up and mousse my spiky hair.

But if I can’t be you, and I have to see you, I hope our meeting is brief, and your view of me is restricted to my backside entering a car with dented Maryland plates. I will think of you at the library as Wolverine lunges at his opponent from a tree, his arms spread eagle, a bird with metal wings.

Everything You Need To Know About My Mom

I haven't emailed her in a while, so she called me Elmo. I have no idea why.

Mid-afternoon Wake-up Music

Presenting...the unemployed person's theme song.

Beta Kate

I found out that an old friend of mine who I lost contact with moved in the D.C. area recently. I also found out that she's still very funny. Her web site is called Beta Kate. Actually, it's called Cyanotic Copy, but I don't know what cyanotic means, so I'm calling it Beta Kate. Also, her name is Charlene.

Pants

If I got married and had a family, I'd be wearing pants. I mean, if I had a family, I'd be the one wearing the pants. And they wouldn't be those giant clown pants that a whole family could fit in. Uh-uh. They'd be pants just for me.