Talent Show Story
You guys, I know I've been lax with the blog. Live shows have been taking up most of my time. Including the above clip, which is me telling a story and then singing my heart out at The Jukebox series at Union Hall. Hopefully it makes up for the recent dearth of nonsense essays.
Thank you to Steve Heisler and Steve Jacobs for having me at the show and providing the video.
Summer Break
Dear Readers,
First off, a warning that this post is a little sincere. Please skip ahead to the videos if you don't go for that sort of thing.
You may have noticed that I suddenly stopped blogging for the past two months. It's odd, because I had written every day for the year and a half prior. It's not that I was sick or needed a break; I'm always slightly sick, and my Midwestern guilt doesn't allow me to take breaks. Either of those things, and I would have stopped writing the blog after week two.
Instead, I've been swamped with live shows, specifically my show REAL CHARACTERS at McNally Jackson Books. When I moved it to the new space, I ask my friend Ann Marie to serve as producer, and together we've been booking and promoting the hell out of it.
That meant reaching out to publications and booking the best writers and performers I could find. Which, in turn, meant emailing strangers, which is horrifying to me. The last two months have been me in a constant state of panic over the following:
Should I re-edit this outgoing email?
Do I seem properly casual and off-the-cuff?
Was it rude that I got this person's email address from a mutual friend?
Why hasn't this person emailed me back?
How long do I wait before I offer the slot to someone else?
Did I sound too grateful that they said yes?
Do I sound too disappointed they said no?
Did I use the wrong homophone?
OH NO! I used the wrong homophone!
That said, it's all worked out great, and we've had three amazing shows, and I couldn't be prouder of them. If you haven't come to the live show, please do. You'll love it. I'm going to get back to writing new blog posts every day starting sometime this week. But, until then, enjoy this small sampling of some of the many terrific performances at REAL CHARACTERS:
Life Lessons from Chess
Let me give you guys a bit of advice: Life is like this chessboard here. You have to plan ahead. Know your moves.
For instance, take this little piece up front with the round top. How does it move? One square forward? Two? Eleven? I have no idea. Are there even eleven squares on this chessboard? Hold on a second while I count…
Hmm, this board only has eight squares. It must be defective.
Hold on. I’m writing myself a note to order a better chessboard online. Maybe black marble with green flames…
Anyway, instead of being this little piece in the front, you probably want to be this tall piece in back---the one with the cross on top. It must be the Pope.
You want to be the Pope, strutting around with your Pope sword and your Pope crossbow. And, if anybody gives you shit, you just be all like, “Ba-blam, thunk, Pope arrow to the face! You’ve just been Poped, mutha-fucker!”
And, then you just strut.
So, that’s one life lesson you can take from chess.
You know, you don’t have to be this Pope piece in life. You could be the horse dude, instead. Going around eating grass and taking dumps wherever you want. Just like, “Hey, I gotta take a dump. In this field? Sure. During a parade? Hell yeah.” So, I guess that lesson from chess is to act intimidating.
Also, there’s this piece like looks like a Muppet staring straight up. Like maybe he’s watching a jet fly overhead, and his mouth is hanging open? Let’s call him Bert.
You could be Bert. I’ve actually seen how this piece moves. (It was playing on one of those video screens at the airport next to the moving sidewalk. Probably an ad for some boner medicine.) Bert kinda moves like he’s doing the Electric Slide. And, if there’s one lesson I’ve learned in life, it’s that you for sure need to learn the Electric Slide. Nobody wants to be the only guy at a wedding who doesn’t Electric Slide.
I can’t tell you how many times my Electric Slide technique has gotten me laid.
There are other chess pieces, too. Like the castle, which I think just sits there. That’s fine for some. There have been times when I just sat there. Like when I was unemployed for a year.
But, in the long run, you get fat. Then you have to join a gym, which is expensive. Especially on unemployment. Suckville.
I’m not sure what lessons we can learn from the pieces being black and white. It seems a little racist. I mean, where are the yellow pieces? Or the brown ones? I tell you, as soon as I get my eleven-square chessboard, there will be room for all the races to fight each other.
That’s a promise.
So yeah, anyway, chess. There’s a shit ton of lessons there if you take the time to learn them.
Soft-Shell Crab
Son, I want you to promise me something: You're eighteen now, ready to go off to college. You've got your whole future ahead of you. I don't want you to make the same mistake that I made. Never look up what makes soft-shell crab soft-shelled.
Believe me, you don't want to know. You never want to know. Because, soft-shell crab is delicious. Oh my god, a soft shell crab sandwich with a little fresh frisée, some spicy aioli, maybe a touch of churrasco---it doesn't get any tastier than that.
But, once you find out what soft shell crab really is, you won't be able to eat it ever again. Never again.
Let me tell you about the day I learned what soft-shell crab was. I was about your age, bright-eyed and innocent, saving up for trade school. I was out with some friends eating at a seafood stand up along the coast. (This is when I was working for your great uncle’s sporting goods warehouse up in Maine.) I was exactly four bites into just about the tastiest soft shell crab sandwich you can imagine.
I can still remember every detail---a light dijon dressing, ripe tomato, sweet onions, center-cut bacon. And, just as I get the fifth bite into my mouth, my so-called "friend" Eddie Fratelli tells me what soft-shell crab really is. I tell you, son, it dissolved into ashes in my mouth.
To this day, I can't even walk past a restaurant serving soft-shell crab without getting a lump of disgust in my throat.
I can see that I've piqued your interest. I know what it's like to be a young buck full of machismo, thinking you can take on the world. You probably assume you can handle knowing why soft-shell crab is soft-shelled. You can't.
That's why I'm going to give you a little hint and hope that keeps you from exploring any further on your own. Here it is: Shells are hard; they protect the crab. But, they don't grow, do they? That's it, that's all I'm gonna say.
Promise me you won't investigate beyond that. I can't imagine my only son never being able to eat soft-shell crab again. That fear keeps me up at night. Well, that and the image of soft-shell crabs seared into my brain.
So, promise me right now that you won't go any further down that road. Do you promise? I said, DO YOU PROMISE?!
There, that's all I needed to hear. I trust you; you’re a good kid.
Oh, and I just remembered, also promise you won't look up any YouTube videos of crabs molting their shells, because I think you might be able to guess the rest from there...
... All those disgusting little ocean spiders shedding their protective armor … floating around like twitching wet marshmallows … pink and puffy, like they just herniated themselves out of their own bodies…
… I’m sorry. I got distracted. Anyway, hope I didn’t give too much away. You go out and enjoy those soft-shell crab sandwiches, and try not to think about it too much.
I love you, son.
Internet Start-Up
I’m thinking about starting up some sort of multibillion-dollar Internet start-up. Not exactly sure what it’ll be yet, but I wrote up a little copy for the brochure and I’ve attached it below. Let me know what you guys think:
Do you own a home personal computer for personal computing? Many in the Americas do, and also around the world.
There are many things a personal computer can do for you, for instance both sending and receiving electronic mail over the Internet Superhighway, a series of cables that connect many computers together. Also, many computers can show videotapes of things such as cats and/or dogs and cats.
Also, home personal computers can bring many new and exciting and interesting things into your home---things like purchasing books about things, purchasing “virtual” disc-less music, pretending you are a mythical warrior, reading your news information, asking people questions about many things.
Also, a computer that you buy can allow you to see photographs of female bodybuilders eating apples, if you are interested in female bodybuilders eating apples. There are other fruits that lady bodybuilders eat. Sometimes, they don’t eat the fruit. Sometimes they crush it with their feet. You can also see photos of that.
Also, computers attached to the Internet Superhighway allow you to see female bodybuilders dressed up as cowgirls, and in the background of the photograph there is a man making a funny face at another man who is wearing a stormtrooper costume. No one is eating fruit, but it is a very funny picture that I can send to you using the “forwarding” button in my electronic mail program.
Webster’s dictionary defines a computer as a “one that computes; specifically: a programmable usually electronic device that can store, retrieve, and process data.”
If that sounds interesting to you, or if you simply want to see pictures of female bodybuilders, please send a self addressed stamped envelope to the address below, and I will mail you a URL to input into your personal home computer for more information.
Thank you, and good Internetting.
Tiffany’s Birthday
I was lucky enough to see my old friend, Steve Delahoyde, this weekend. And, it made me realize I never posted this video we had done together. Steve directed and I wrote, and Paul Thomas stole the show with his pitch-perfect reaction shots.
So, yeah, I hope you enjoy it.
Updated S&M
Welcome to Modern Sensations S&M Club, where we give masochism a modern sensibility. You're new here, correct? Let me give you a quick tour.
The first thing you'll notice is the waiting room. Everyone arriving has to wait an hour before entering the facility for no reason other than the receptionist being distracted by Angry Birds on her phone.
Can you feel your frustration rising? You're already being dominated!
That's exactly the kind of up-to-the-minute domination technique used here at Modern Sensations. We strive to give our patrons a much more realistic sense of humiliation and degradation than the standard whips and diapers S&M clubs.
After the waiting area, we’ll pass a long hallway of video screens displaying unflattering Facebook or DMV photos of you. (Please email those in ahead of your appointment. There’s an FAQ on our website with acceptable files formats.) If you’re really interested in degradation, we can also put up photos of your ex, who is now fifteen pounds lighter and happier.
And, then it’s on to the sex dungeon.
Unlike traditional S&M sex dungeons, there are no black velvet curtains or darkened corridors here. Simply one large, brightly lit atrium with bad acoustics. It in, you’ll find a series of poorly managed lines and unhelpful signage. There’s a take-a-number machine at the front, but it’s out of number slips.
These many lines lead to a wide range of bondage and domination scenarios. There aren’t any leather masks or chains at Modern Sensations, but you can wait in an apartment all day for the Time Warner Internet guy to never arrive.
We also have a faux laundry room where you can make uncomfortable small talk with your religious landlady. Then, there’s the cocktail mixer during which someone will misinterpret an innocent comment of yours as racist. Or, maybe you’d prefer the three-weeks-sober-at-your-wife's-family-for-Thanksgiving dinner scenario.
All these and many more role-playing arrangements await your exploration. Whatever sorts of present day embarrassment or discomfort arouses you sexually, you can find it here.
And, rest assured, we are indeed judging you for your weird erotic predilections. That’s simply another part of the humiliation we strive to provide at Modern Sensations S&M Club, you weirdo.
I hope you’ve enjoyed the tour. Feel free to look around and join in the masochism. Remember, the safeword is “ugh, gross.”
April Fools’ Day
Hey, guys, I have a great idea for an April Fools’ Day prank this year. I think we should murder people!
I know, right? Such a funny prank. I love coming up with prank ideas for April First. I mean it's like, "Hello? Don't you doofuses remember what day it is? You so deserve all the embarrassment of getting murdered.”
Oh my god, can you imagine the looks on their face when we murder them? They'll be all like, "Whaaa? Are you murdering me? I so totally didn't expect that." And, we'll be all like, "Yeah, boom! Prank!" Ha ha ha ha! Priceless.
I figure we'll dress up all in black tracksuits with pantyhose over our heads. And, we'll draw grinning devil faces in lipstick over the pantyhose and we’ll use ceremonial knives---totally create a sense of authenticity to the prank. Really do it up, full-prankster-style.
Oh man, this is gonna be awesome! Remember last April First, when we lit that orphanage on fire? Such a funny prank. All those orphans were out on the lawn crying, and we ran up and were all like, "Dude, you guys are so pranked! Ha haa!" The looks on their faces!
And, by the time the police came, we had all snuck down into the sewers, where we've been living for the past twelve months planning our next prank. Remember that? Remember how we built a civilization down here based on discarded food scraps and watching YouTube videos of flash mobs?
And, we've been planning a new world order where we---the hilarious prankers---terrorize the plebeian, fool populace.
Well, now is the time to rise up and deliver our devastating endgame prank! Now is the time to return to the surface world and begin our thousand years of despotic, prank-filled rule!
Rise up, my army! Rise, pranksters! Rise, punkers! Rise funsters and cut-ups! Rise, goofballs and thugs, jackasses and guerilla theaterists! Join me in arms.
The drumbeat commences on the horizon. Lo, it portends our advance. The hounds of prank strain against their leash. Can you hear their roar? I said, CAN YOU HEAR THEIR ROAR?!!
GRAB YOUR WEAPONS, BROTHERS! PICK UP KNIFE AND AXE, WHOOPIE CUSHION AND RUBBER CHICKEN! NOW IS THE TIME! TODAY IS THE DAY OF FOOLS’ RECKONING!
TODAY, MY PRANSTERS… TODAY WE PRANK!
Low Key – March 27, 2011
Author's Note: This is the last Low Key I'll be doing for the site. It's been really fun revisiting these, and I'm grateful for The Apiary for carrying them on their blog.
I still love writing the puns, but drawing and coloring these takes a lot of time. And, I want to use that reclaimed time to do new, fun things, like hopefully more videos and audio pieces. Also, I'm kicking it into high gear pitching pieces to other publications. So... I hope you've enjoyed the puns. Maybe I'll pull together a book of them someday.
---Andy