Registered Sexy Fender

That's SO Raven

Picture Joke #3: Supervisor.

Picture Joke #2: Sweepstakes

Picture Joke #1: Exterminator.

Transcription of a Taped Meeting From My Office

Person A: Hello, and welcome everyone. We need to get talking about some items that have come to my attention recently, so we need to go ahead and just jump right in. This meeting is going to start by reviewing what we discussed at the last meeting, then we’re going to have a little back and forth on that.

Then I had hoped we would discuss the back and forth we had at the last meeting, it seems we had some unresolved issues from the meeting before that, that perhaps we can revisit, and wrap up.

I think after that we can begin with all the things on our plate for this week…

Person B: Food? Was I supposed to order food for this meeting?

Person A: Well, we were supposed to get around to that in the last meeting, but we didn’t. I think we’ll be okay, even though we are so pressed for time that I think we’ll have to meet through the normal lunch hour.

(Persons C- K all sigh quietly)

Person A: Whew! So much to cover! So… It looks like what I’ve got here is… After we discuss what is on our plates for this week, we need to have a dialogue about how we can move forward with said items.

As soon as we finish that, we can tie up all the loose ends, and really put everything where it needs to go neatly.

Person B: Was I suppose to tidy up in here?

Person A: No, we hardly had any time because we just decided to call everyone here at the last second…

Person B: What are the loose ends? Do you mean like that discussion we had last week about the week before’s discussion?

Person A: Well, not really (laughs. No else in the room does)! What I meant is the discussion we had the week before that! There were a lot of remarks that I jotted down for us to go over later that week.

I figured that after we tie up those loose ends, we can have a rap session about what we have coming down the pipeline, and how we can improve things for the future.

Person B: Oh! Wait! (writing) Did you say “rap session”? I am just trying to get accurate notes for the next meeting.

Person A: Oh, that reminds me! We need to talk about the next meeting because I have a lot to discuss in that one about some upcoming projects. Also, in that one we need to discuss better time management, because we are seeing a real decline in productivity.

Person B: Perhaps we can focus someone’s skill sets on…

Person A: Wait wait wait! That’s for next week. For this week we have SO much to cover, that I really need to get down to our discussion. So, as I said what we’ve got going on here is that WHEN we talk about the future at the end of this meeting, I need all your input. (PHONE BUZZES) You know… I really have to get this… We’ll start next week right here where we left off…

(Persons C- K all wonder what they are doing with their lives)

Low Brow Corner

This had to be done sooner or later. For those that are familiar with Virginia's catch phrase and logo:

Sorry Virginia... and the one group of three orientations that don't agree with this.

Angels and Dodgers

Baby step to baseball season... Baby step to baseball season...

Oh those Bridges'

"Oh, my dad and my mom, they loved showbiz so much."

-Jeff Bridges

Acceptance speech for his 2010 Academy Award.

Joey Toast #3

Names for Things and Places That Sound Vaguely Dirty

Let us lower those brows a bit...

Mystic, CT

Also Mystic, CT

Maui, HI

...and while we're on the subject.

The Television Disagreement

My wife and I have very different tastes in television, and what constitutes as "entertaining". I am very much against reality television, where she finds guilty pleasure in it.

Guilt is the correct response to feel for watching programs such as these, but I did not log on to preach...

Unfortunately, from my office, I can hear whatever is on the TV in the other room. I have started tracking certain things, and will sporadically share these findings with you. Through science, perhaps we can find what it is about these shows that sucks in a viewer. We'll divide the lowest common denominator (which in most cases, is the featured person on the show), and dissect the fascination. I've taken some notes that I wanted to share with you.

True Stories #1 - Jon Stewart

My tale begins in Tulsa, Oklahoma somewhere around 1998. I was living in my friends’ basement, which was, at one time, a funeral home. I slept in what was once embalming chambers. If you think you’re disgusted, think about how I felt when I heard the news. I had been living there for a few months already, when our next door neighbor told me this. Our neighbor, Ron, was a tweaker, which was not uncommon in Tulsa. He was a skinny, balding red head who smoked like a chimney and wore pink/orange hypercolor Ocean Pacific shirts, sleeves removed.

“You know this building was a funeral home in the 1920’s?” He said, shaking nervously.

I was silently soaking this information in as Ron began to tell me the details. The landlord told him directly when he moved in, sometime in 1996. I usually had a policy about trusting tweakers, but I saw no reason that Ron would lie about this. This tale was not leading to more drugs, or money for said drugs, so I took it at face value. Later that week, the story was confirmed by the landlord. He would drop in occasionally to make sure that none of the repairs we requested were being made.

This “funeral home business” bothered me slightly. And with summer’s humidity choking any sort of temperate comfort, I found myself awake at night, staring at my dwelling. To pass the time, I found myself trying to work more hours at a pizza place around the corner, or diving into my roommate’s book and record collections.

One of my roommates had been an English major, which meant he burned through books at an unprecedented manner. I had seen War and Peace laying next to the toilet with a bookmark in the first 20 pages. The very next week the book was placed in the “already read it” pile. With a nine to five job, and a dedicated regiment at the gym, he read a novel on the toilet that would have taken me two years of uninterrupted attention.

“Food? I can’t be bothered with food! Prince Andrei has just plummeted into a pit of nihilism!”

“The cute girl from the pizza place is here? Pierre has just discovered from numerology that Napoleon is the antichrist figure of Revelation! Please ask her to wait patiently on the couch. I only have eight more months of reading.”

That being said, I was always appreciative when there was easier-to-digest reading next to our throne of relief. It was here that I first saw what appeared to be a daguerreotype of Abraham Lincoln nude. Over his genital area was a typographic censor that read “Naked Pictures of Famous People”. I was unfamiliar with Jon Stewart being a humor writer at the time. “The guy from MTV put out a book of historical nude photos? Is nothing sacred?” I thought. Then I, of course, opened the book.

The first page I saw was a drawing of a beer helmet (wine helmet, in the book) as drawn/planned/invented by Leonardo Da Vinci. I laughed hysterically at the rest of the chapter, wiping tears away from my eyes. I finished the book that afternoon with the same fervor my roommate displayed for Tolstoy’s masterpiece.

Fast forward to 2006. I was living in Washington D.C. The embalming room was a memory, and Ron was still somewhere in Tulsa; being Ron. As it turns out, I had followed my English major roommate out to D.C. He, his wife, and another friend proved to be a strong base for friends when trying my first relocation experiment. From the time I moved out to the Baltimore/D.C. area in 2003, I had been enamored with the culture. Used record stores, independent book sellers, clubs where Fugazi played… I was in heaven.

I worked as a production manager for a downtown D.C. company, and was eating lunch in the break room with a few co-workers. We were regaling each other with jokes from the previous night’s Daily Show (with Jon Stewart), and something clicked. I had all but forgotten the book, the wine helmet, and the cramps in my stomach I had contracted from laughing so hard. Everything flooded back, and I interrupted a story about Jon Oliver to tell my co-workers of the hilarious book. “You….HAVE…..to…..read….” I stammered. I knew I sounded like Ron right after a snort, but I was already laughing so hard that I could barely keep it together.

My impatience is legendary. To make sure my co-workers go the full effect of the joke, I took an extra long lunch, and walked up to the nearest independent book store to purchase my copy. I laughed the entire seven block walk. Since it was fall in D.C., one could never be too sure of what the weather was going to be like. I wore my winter coat unnecessarily, and after four of the seven blocks, I began to sweat mildly.

A bell rang as I pushed in the door, and almost ran to the humor section. Lo and behold, I didn’t see the book. But this was an independent store, maybe it was filed under “Charlie’s favorite picks” or “Neo-Historic Photographic Reference and Humor”.

I went up to the counter where a mid-twenties, hip clerk was working. I had been in such a hurry, I hadn’t predetermined how terribly awkward the question was going to sound:

“Do you have ‘Naked Pictures of Famous People?”

“Excuse me?”, the clerk rightly responded.

“I’m sorry… Jon Stewart’s book, it’s a humor book” I said trying not to sound like a pervert.

…Jon Stewart – 1. Me – 0.

“I don’t know… “, said the clerk “Ask our information desk”.

As he pointed to the desk, the mild sweat turned into a profuse affair. It was partly from the quick walk to the bookstore and the standard retail temperature that only Dante could truly appreciate. My core temperature doubled as I saw the information clerk was a nice, grandfatherly looking old man. How was I not going to offend this old gentleman? He works for a bookstore! Surely he has heard of this book from ten years ago! He probably read it as a young chap who was in his late 60’s and his entire elderly life in front of him!

“Can I help you son?”

There it was. “Son.” I held out my hand to accept a Werther’s Original candy, but there was none to be had.

“I am looking for a book”

“Okay son, what’s the title?”

“It’s a humor book.”

“Uh huh.”

“Do you know Jon Stewart?”

“Is that the title?” …damn.

“No…”

“Is that the author?”

“YES!” There was a glimmer of hope that I wouldn’t have to offend this grandfather-like figure.

“…hmm…It seems we have America” …damn.

“Do you have ‘Naked Pictures of Famous People’?”

His eyes widened in disbelief in what I had said. At this point, I expected him to send me to my room, or have a heart attack. Either seemed entirely possible.

“It’s the name of the book; the humor book. It’s a lot of funny essays and…” I feverishly tried to explain.

“I’m afraid we don’t.” he sharply interrupted. I sighed and sulked back to the humor section. I could feel his judging gaze on my back as I did. I was a sweaty pervert in Father Literature’s eyes.

… Jon Stewart – 2. Me – 0. You magnificent bastard.

I felt obligated to buy the new Stewart book called “America (The Book): A Citizen’s Guide to Democracy Inaction” so I didn’t look like a complete degenerate. I would prove to them that I was a fan of humor writing, not celebrity nudity. I carried the book up to the young clerk.

“That will be twenty seven, sixty four... did you find it?”

“No”

“Oh, sorry man. Do you want a bag?

“No thanks, I’m good”

“Okay, here’s your receipt. You know there’s a section on the Supreme Court in there that’s really good. On page ninety nine”, he said nodding his head in a cryptic way.

“Oh… Okay. I’ll check it out” I said, and exited the store with my head hanging defeated.

I had seven blocks to walk back to the office, so I decided to drown the fiasco away with hilariousness. After reading one section that made me laugh, I thought about the clerk’s strange nod. I looked for a section on the Supreme Court. Sure enough, on page ninety nine, “Dress the Supreme Court”. Satirizing paper doll dress up books from childhood, Stewart and crew have a page of cut outs of Supreme Court robes (complete with paper tabs to hold the robes onto the figures). On the facing page, are pictures of the Supreme Court members photo manipulated onto nine naked bodies.

Not only was the young clerk aware of the exact page the naked Supreme Court appeared on, he figured it was a sweet tip to tell the sweaty pervert where to locate it. Apparently, this kid thought the best place in a bookstore I could find pornography was in the humor section. Not to mention their large selection of pornographic magazines; “No good fellow! Penthouse is for the unimaginative! I like my pornography in the form of people somewhere in the range of fifty-five to seventy. If I can get photos of the very physically unfit, that would be ideal! Now go fetch me a Stewart book young man, I like to chuckle while I churn!”

…Jon Stewart – 3. Me – 0.

Little known origins for English words and phrases #2

Shindig: This term was used to describe the activities of Nathaniel “Greenteeth” Hawkins. Hawkins began his career as a Welsh pirate in 1682, but quickly began wooing his crowds of the imprisoned with his cat-like ability to dig for buried treasure with his shovel-shaped peg leg. By 1719, Greenteeth was captivating audiences all over the world with his digging revue. These performances were later dubbed “shindigs”. Other phrases that came from this origin include the popular 1960’s counterculture phrases such as “Do you dig?” “Dig this” and “Woodstock”.

This is real.

Joey Toast #2

Little known origins for English words and phrases #1

Hopscotch: “Scotch” is commonly misconceived as referring to the original inventors as being Scottish. The game was actually invented, patented, and copywritten in 1867, by a group of British drunks. The original 1867 guidelines of the game were as follows:

1. Imbibe as much scotch whisky as possible
2. Leap about after that William chap
3. Vomit
4. Imbibe more scotch whisky

It was around the turn of the century (roughly 1902) that the children of London adapted the game. The rules were changed significantly since the children allowed scotch blends to be consumed due to the climbing prices of single malt.

Joey Toast #1

Happy New Year

If you are having trouble reading the text on this poster, let me type it just to make sure you see it. It says:

“LOVE THEM. DON’T SHOOT THEM.

(pictures of children)

Please don’t fire your gun into the air this New Year’s”

I took this picture in the Los Angeles subway, which I know will be shocking enough to most people. Let me confirm that Yes Virginia, there IS a subway in LA. And if you are one of the ten people who have heard of it, let me dispel the myth that it sucks. It’s actually quite nice. And no, I am not sponsored by the LA Transit Metro Authority* to tell you that.

Let’s get to the heart of this story though folks. I was completely unaware that we had gone back in time. Great Scott, indeed. Apparently, we live in 1880, and I have just forgotten. Excuse me Pat Garrett; I must get past you, and back to my magic light screen to document my thoughts. How’s the Kid doing these days? Really? You’re a shitty friend, Pat.

Now, I am not very observant of my surroundings. I get lost in my own pajamas sometimes. But I was aware enough on New Year’s Eve to notice that there was electricity. We were not gathered within the confines of the Alamo’s walls, and I was not going to the celebration on a horse. With these realizations, can we assume that shooting a gun for celebratory purposes is passé?

What’s that you say? Of course I know I live in Los Angeles! Ever since the 1980’s, citizens are required to carry at least one firearm. We have a reputation to uphold since Boyz N the Hood came out. I keep a .45 in my sock, and a derringer neatly tucked in between my man boobs. You never know when you might need the backup. I keep these guns for PROTECTION folks. Well, that, and for shooting at rival gang members. Let me level with you, the rivalry was figured out years ago, but now it’s just something to do on Tuesday afternoons. But we don’t waste bullets willy-nilly. We’re ALL in a recession, let’s do our part to save Uncle Sam some rounds.

Let me just review a few places where firing your weapon in the air is not acceptable:

-New Year’s Eve (as the poster suggests)

-Valentine’s Day dinner

-Saul Adler’s bar mitzvah

-After achieving a perfect score on Duck Hunt

-Celebrating with Yosemite Sam. It looks good when he does it, but you just look like a copycat, varmint

-After taking communion at church. There is still the balcony above you

*The best Transit Metro Authority of Southern California!

Drunk Steak

Why hasn't someone created a steak that gets you drunk? They would sell like hot cakes for Super Bowl. In fact, I would think they would get so popular, they would replace the hot cake as the standard referred item that flies off the shelves.

"Those new iPhones went like drunk steaks", I'd say. And everyone in the room would nod in agreement.

"No thanks, I'll be eating my lunch today". No one would look down on you.

"Before I go talk to that member of the opposite sex (or same...I don't judge who eats my steak), I think I need a little 'solid courage'".

Public Service Announcement

Ladies and Gentlemen,

Kumquat.

...That is all. Thank you for your time.

Too Ra Loo Tamale Tinny Ed Aye A Lye

One thing I have noticed since our arrival in Los Angeles is the staggering amount of doughnut (or donut) shops that exist here. This is shocking to me, due to the number of residents who are actors, models, California health hippies, and general “people that live in Beverly Hills”. Although I heard Benicio Del Toro had a regimented strict diet of a dozen doughnuts a day to pack on the belly of Dr. Gonzo (for “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas”), I can see little other business for these unfortunately located shops.

That discussion is for another time though. Who knew that the city of Los Angeles would boast such a high number of restaurants that serve Irish cuisine? I keep passing by signs for these places called Tac O’Bell. I can only imagine each location as a warm haven away from these bitter L.A. winters. Where can one warm himself by a fire and a pint of Guiness? This is not rhetorical.

I finally just had my first visit to one of these places, and lo and behold, I had no idea that the song “La Cuc O’racha” was a traditional Irish reel. My hunger was nearly forgotten about when I began reading the history of the restaurant, which appeared in tidbits that were framed about the restaurant. From what I gather, the history is as follows:

In 1846 Casey O’Bell gazed across a field in Limerick Ireland, and dreamt of having a potato. Since there were none to be had, he decided he would look elsewhere for his beloved starch. He traded an old man a jaunty jig for enough money to board a boat headed to the land of dreams called Manna-hata (Which was later renamed "Manhattan" after the Woody Allen film). Casey did not speak Gaeilge and mistook the boat as heading toward a hat store. Casey was bald (which was the style at the time) and his head was cold, so he opted to join them in their shopping extravaganza. He patiently waited for days in this boat while his head got even colder, and conditions increasingly more unbearable.

Then one fateful morning Casey awoke in the shadow of a giant green woman holding high a torch. Casey was in awe. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he recognized the woman as Kelly McRyan, who was threatening to burn the boat if she didn’t get to bathe the green film off of herself soon. Casey snapped into action by diving off the side of the boat and swimming to shore. The young Irishman ended up at Tammany Hall, where he was quickly ejected for dripping his wet clothes on legal documents.

After drying, he returned, and noticed all the grunting, harrumphing, and arguing made the gentlemen famished. He scurried to the nearest grocer, and traded him a jig for corn and potatoes. And just as David Blaine would sit in a Plexiglas box 154 years later, something magical happened.

The men practically demolished everything Casey made, and after a few years of this, he had enough to build a restaurant. William M. Tweed later declared the O’Bell recipes to be “Scandalicious!”. This review skyrocketed Casey’s fame and popularity to a mythical degree. And Casey O’Bell patented the “Quick Food Chain”.

After a delicious traditional Irish meal, I got a chance to talk with the manager of this particular location, and wanted to share these not very well known Rejected Tac O’ Bell Menu Ideas:

Nachos and Cabbage

Colcannon con queso

Dishreen Supreme

The Potato Famine Potato Wrap (no potatoes)

Jalapeno Boxty

Finnegan Bell Grande (Sponsored by Ethan Hawke)

Fiesta Pot Brownies

LOST in the Writer's Room

Hello readers! I am very excited to share this information with you. I am taking a writers class for dramatic television series, and I love it! Did you hear me? I said I LOVE it. Everyone thought that the recent writers strike would send young hopefuls into the exciting world of Tupperware sales, but I am here to tell you, there are 200 excited young writers with me in my class. An impressive number indeed!

We recently had an assignment to rewrite a comedy as a drama, and I chose House of Sand and Fog because, seriously, without all the puns, visual gags, and one-liners, that movie has some pretty dark overtones I felt I could expand on. I mean, I knew Ben Kingsley was a riot in Gandhi, but he is all laughs here. I mean, c'mon Ben, TELL US A MEANINGFUL STORY HERE! Ha ha.

Here’s the exciting news though! My professor chose MY script over everyone’s to win! Anywayyy, guess what I won!! ........NOPE! It was the chance to sit in the writers room of the hit TV show LOST!!!

OMG! ROFDCSTVCCTMR!!!! (*Rolling on the floor drinking celebratory shots of tequila and vodka, commonly called the Mexican Russian)

So, this was during the fourth season of the show, and a lot of people thought it was a season that they were “wasting time” until they got an ending date in sight. But those people are dead wrong! Since that season has passed, ABC has given me the green light to share the minutes I took during that day! YAY!!

9:00 – Minutes of the last writers meeting are reviewed. There is a brief discussion of how the ghost gerbils can make their entrance.

9:30 – Wolverine and X-Men Presents: Wolverine back issues are scanned for Sawyer dialogue. Many one liners, nicknames, and “bad-attitude demonstrators” are pitched, but head writer shoots them down, and describes them as “not Klee Shay enough”. (*I don’t know who this Shay writer is, but I will investigate!)

10:00 – Writer’s room explodes into fury of simultaneous masturbation.

10:30 – Discussion of how the ghost gerbils can obtain no other linkage to anything that has happened previously on the show. One of the writers, Billy, thoroughly asks how their background story coincides with the plot of the rest of the series. Other writers reply, “Magic”.

11:00 – Ghost gerbil topic is set aside for discussion on another nearby island the characters can escape to. The trees on said island will be made of chocolate and pixiedust.

12:00 – Lunchtime! The Inspiration bong is passed around. I had never seen marijuana that looked like white crystals and rocks before but hey, When LOST in Rome…! Ha ha.

3:45 – Everyone wakes up. Need for a script is discussed. Billy argues need for script.

3:47 – Inspiration bong is passed around again.

5:00 – Everyone wakes up to alarm that is programmed to play Linkin’ Park’s Given Up. Quittin time! “Another day, another dollar” is said to me by each writer as we exit the building.