Cleanest River in America

UPDATES: NO ONE IS ALIVE IN WORLD

2008-01-29T15:04:00.000-05:00

Did you see Cloverfield? What a great movie, huh guys. Yeah Roger Ebert ate it up. He ate it up so much he had to get another surgery. Yeah, that's a fat joke. Pretty good, huh guys.

So...Cleanest River's blog/site has fallen to a Chinese man. Yeah he came in, delivered some dumplings, then took it hostage. It was weird.

So...we're taking a break if you couldn't tell. Here's what's happening...like one of those um Real World Reunions.

Dan Leif is in Argentina right now. Farming. Yeah, usually you would think that's a joke being written on here. But it's true. It's super super true.

Jake Goldman is making cell phone wallpapers. He is also around NYC performing with himself, Barrett and Goldman, and the Future Mrs Goldman. If you want to hound him, go to this site: http://internetdogfist.com. He loves hounding.

Jessica Stickles is reading about ladies who live with wolves and children's shows. (weird because clearly this is me I'm talking about...lets make my story more impressive). She also is now breeding champion show dogs. One of them has won a prize for best hat in a dog show. She is performing around NYC and can be seen in Baby Grenade, Wolf Cougar Lion and on her own. Find her real estate at http://ladiesbeshopping.com.

Daniel Luddy is currently surveying roof tops. He can be seen performing in and around NYC. Also he's travelling on a train to everywhere next month. Try to catch him.

****

We'll be back soon...in some form...doing what we love most...making people more aware of babies, guns and murder. Please continue loving us, while we have an affair that doesn't involve your mommy.

Love from Biggie Smalls,
<3

12 words/phrases that better appear somewhere in my obituary

2007-12-28T14:46:00.000-05:00

-Nunchucks
-Prarie dog
-Cannon
-Trick golfer
-Arrested for strangling Bryant Gumble
-Loose cannon
-Blob
-Tire
-Cannon ball
-Jalapeno poppers
-Juan Ponce de Leon
-Human cannon ball

I don't want your Aloe.

2007-08-19T19:41:00.000-04:00

I wish the following things were available for free on the street:

- Umbrellas
- String cheese
- Stock portfolio advice
- Springs
- Harvey Wallbanger (the drink)
- Sparklers
- Ticker tape
- Harvey Wallbanger (the person)
- Self-dignity
- Ocean waves
- Harvey Wallbanger (the myth)
- Farmer's Almanacs
- Not pamphlets
- Spheres of fire?

Alas, all I get is samples of body lotion. And not even enough for my whole body. Who's making these decisions?

Show on Thursday

2007-08-14T13:29:00.000-04:00

Yo. Yo. Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo.

We's performing "Staunton Chipmunk River Run," a show about love, life and suburban cougars, once again this Thursday at the Peoples Improv Theater at 154 W 29th St. Rumor has it that upon the completion of last week's performance, half of Staten Island turned into a giant HD television. So come this week...God only knows what effect our biting sarcasm and precision timing will have on other NYC boroughs. Will Queens become a wireless internet router? Will the Bronx morph into the idea of Bluetooth?

Joining us will be internet comedy phenoms POYKPAC (http://www.poykpac.com). They have nearly 11 times as many MySpace friends as us!

After Thursday, you will have only two more chances to see "Staunton Chipmunk River Run," a show about love, life and suburban cougars...

Aug 23 with Elephant Larry (http://www.elephantlarry.com/)
Aug 30 with Barehanded Wolfchokers (http://www.myspace.com/barehandwolfchokers)

Wait, I think Lower Manhattan is now an S-video adapter.

There's comedy happening!

2007-08-07T18:20:00.000-04:00

Cleanest River at the Peoples Improv Theater (154 W 29 St betw 6 and 7 aves)
THURSDAY AUG 9 AT 8:00 FOR FIVE DOLLARS

With Philadelphia LEGENDS Secret Pants. They do sketch comedy and maintain water crafts ... at the SAME TIME. Holy piping pediatricians!

Come to this show or lose your dignity. This show will make you want to krunk dance with Mickey Rooney. After seeing this display of comedic tomfoolery, you will join Al Quaeda because nothing short of participating in a worldwide jihad will satisfy the unexplainable and far-flung urges floating through your recently detonated brain. This show will make you love yourself and hate your mom and feel indifferent toward most of your neighbors. When will flying cars finally become a reality? The minute this show starts, that's when. Go to it go to it go to it.

Feather Suffocation Lyrics!!!

2007-07-31T11:19:00.001-04:00

I like starting my day with my favorite song by Feather Suffocation:

"You put a leg in the mouth of your new born baby brother"

I really love that song.

CLEANEST RIVER HAS SHOWS, HOS! Get REAL with them:

CRA presents "Staunton Chipmunk River Run"...

A gated community hell bent on keeping the hooligans out and the cougars in. I mean...those cougars hate football. So much so they refer to it as soccer. No worries about hooligans in Staunton. No sir (oh..ma'am...I couldn't tell).

Please join us and our special guest groups every THURSDAY in AUGUST. We will be performing at the People's Improv Theater in NYC at 8PM. Official details and schedule below. Come be a part of the magic of Sea World...

CRA: "Staunton Chipmunk River Run"
Every Thursday in August
8PM
People's Improv Theater
154 W 29th Street

Tix: 8$
Cheap beer and some lady drinks! Yes wine party ladies!

*****Special Guests*****
Aug 2- Murderfist!
Aug 9- Secret Pants
Aug 16- POYKPAC
Aug 23- Elephant Larry
Aug 30- Barehanded Wolf Chokers

Baby Makes Perfume Out of Credit Card

2007-07-29T09:10:00.000-04:00

Whoa. You're probably reading this just thirsting for more info to clarify the title of this post. Sorry, there is none. You've been fooled. We really just want you to read this:

Cleanest River is live at the People's Improv Theater every Thursday in August. Shows are at 8 o'clock. A different group will sham-bab-a-bab with us each week. Grilling may or may not happen. Towels will play a prominent role. Musical guest is Nirvana.

Go to these shows.

Wonderful

2007-07-13T12:13:00.000-04:00

The top story in most of Japan's news today was that a puppy was born with a heart on his stomach. The name of the story was "Celebrity Puppy Wows Japan."

Here is his photo:
In other news in Japan, a typhoon hit.

BUT LOOK AT THAT HEART!!!!

A Fantastic Idea for a Movie

2007-06-26T10:28:00.001-04:00

The plot centers around 25 people waiting in line for concert tickets. They're out on a sidewalk. In Miami. The narrative goes back and forth between different conversations people are having. Some people meet others in line. Some people just keep to themsleves. But here's the thing: One of these people is actually a space shuttle. At first everybody avoids him, looking disparagingly at his rocket boosters and landing gear. "A space shuttle?" one old man says to his wife. "Hmmf!"

But then a little boy falls down, scrapes his knee. And who's there to help him up and rub a little antibacterial ointment in his cut? You got it. Good ole space shuttle. Soon, people are gathered around him, asking questions about the MIR space station and the possibilities of galaxies unknown. Everyone laughs at the space shuttle's jokes ("What did the solar system do after eating a big meal? Loosened its asteroid belt!") and the crowd bursts into applause after the shuttle's rousing rendition of Fiona Apple's "Criminal," which he sings acapella.

Then, just as the ticket window opens and everyone starts to move forward down the sidewalk, a bit regretful that this wonderful afternoon is coming to an end, the space shuttle takes off. Everyone looks up, eyes glued to the metallic wonder shimmering in the Floridian twilight. We see a close-up of a tear ... no face, just a tear, which itself has a tear. We also see two hands -- one white, one black -- come together for a slow-motion high five. But then the camera pans back to the space shuttle, and, in spectacular fashion, it blows to bits. The people in line are left dumbfounded, too stunned to cry, too deep in reflection to speak. A small mouse creeps toward the silent crowd. It squeaks softly, and the boy -- the same one who cut his leg -- picks it up and places it in his pocket. Sirens are heard in the background. A harmonica version of "Criminal" plays. Morgan Freeman walks on screen in a chicken suit. Slowly -- oh so very slowly -- the screen fades to black.

This movie will be called "Scream."

Another very compelling interview

2007-06-19T15:45:00.000-04:00

The latest in our series of sit-down conversations with those individuals in society who may often get overlooked but are nonetheless important to everyone's well-being. Kind of like hands (really, we never stop to say, "God I love my hands," but if we didn't have hands, life would be, well, tough to get a hold on...hahahahahahaaha...sorry). So anyway, an interview with a true hand of American existence: the mailman.

Cleanest River: So when did you start delivering mail?

Mailman: Oh, sixth grade I guess. Had a paper route.

CR: Ah, so you were more of paper boy?

Mailman: Well, newspaper delivery is really a kind of mail. Gotta think broadly. Mail is about more than just what goes in your mailbox, you know.

CR: Uh, right. So what's your favorite part about the job?

Mailman: The flapjacks I'd say.

CR: We're not following.

Mailman: Well, every morning, all us mailmen wake up at dawn, cut down an acre or so of trees, then come on inside, take off our flannel shirts and have us some pancakes the size of your face. The hardest part of the job is keeping the axes sharp...

CR: Sorry, but you seem to be describing the life of a lumberjack.

Mailman: Nope. Life of a mailman.

CR: You mentioned cutting down trees.

Mailman: Exactly! Cutting down trees is part of the mail service. It's a wide-ranging industry. Some mailmen cut down trees, others design x-ray machines, some mailmen actually make the tides in the ocean.

CR: Okay, we know for a fact tides are the product of the moon and the rotation of the earth along its axis.

Mailman: Wrong. They're created by mailmen pedaling giant bikes underwater.

CR: How come we've never heard that?

Mailman: Mailmen in Congress keep it a secret.

CR: No one in Congress is a mailman!

Mailman: Keep on telling yourself that, cowboy.

CR: We're not a cowboy.

Mailman: I know. Cowboys aren't even cowboys. They're mailmen.

CR: Listen. Can we just have our mail?

Mailman: Oh sure.

[starts cutting down a tree]

CR: Hey, that's our oak!

Mailman: Got to get the mail distributed. Timber! [tree falls down]

CR: You're a real cock.

Mailman: Nope, I'm a mailman. [takes a giant bike out of his pocket, hops on and pedals off into sunset, whistling "My Girl."]

This Day in American History done as mad lib (inserted nouns,verbs,etc in CAPS)

2007-06-11T10:18:00.000-04:00

1962 : Alcatraz proves escapable for two brothers and A BABY

John and Clarence Anglin and DAKOTA FANNING attempt to FIRE DANCE from Alcatraz federal prison. The three CATTLE PARADES were never seen again, and although some FLY AIRPLANES that theirs was the only ORANGE getaway from what was known as "THE POOP BOOBY," it is far more likely that they drowned in the CHILDHOOD MEMORIES OF LOSS. Four days after their escape, a WEASEL containing DUST, which belonged to Clarence Anglin, was found in GRANDMOTHER BOOBY. Escape From Alcatraz, both a J. Campbell Bruce DOG BOOBY and a Clint Eastwood HORSE, later dramatized the incident.

The three PARSNIPS began their UP AND DOWN escape by using stolen BADGERS to chip away at the cement near BRAINS in their cells. Creatively, they then SHIT fake grills out of NEVER ENDING STORY DVDS and painted them to match the originals. The BADGERS FROM EARLIER'S COUSINS made dummy heads and placed them in their BOOBY so that the guards would not notice them ARM TAN. Once outside, the three climbed over a LION'S NO NO PARTS and made their way out to the choppy ROBOT.

Over the years in which POOP TOWN was used as a prison, 36 RECTAL CANCER PATIENTS (in 14 separate BALLOONS) tried to escape. One GRADUATED WITH A BA FROM STANFORD; six were shot to DANCE; and five were never NOT AWESOME. The remaining were BOOBIES BOOBIES BOOBIES.

Why I smother people sometimes?

2007-06-04T11:31:00.000-04:00

So I was hanging out in Brooklyn the other night. And what else do people in Brooklyn talk about other than living in Brooklyn. And how there's a waffle stand on every corner. So once we stopped talking about The Waffle Crook on the corner of Cut T-shirt Street and What is that, a bag you made yourself Ave, the conversation switched to Williamsburg, which is actually also in Brooklyn.

This kid...I think his name was Tap...Tap was talking about how "everything is always being built in Williamsburg...it's almost here, it's being built." So true Tap. So he goes on to say that he moved to Williamsburg and joined this gym that hadn't been built yet. And shock town on the corner of shock and town, this gym ended up being a scam and he lost his money and had to cancel his credit card. I felt bad about that because I had done something pretty similiar involving purchasing something off of Ebay (but luckily I did it through a site that will retrieve your lost wages). To finish Tap's story, he says "I mean...I really should have known better. You know cuz of the name and everything."

To which, I replied about 5 names of the possible gym which follow:
-Not a Real Gym Gym
-I'm Going to steal your money gym
-This is Really going to be an American Apparel Gym
-Yo!!!! Gym!
-Ass Titties Ass Titties Gym

To which, he replied...not getting anything at all, nor understanding anything at all, not even his own social security number...

"No it was like Reade Gymnasium."

After that I went outside and had a soy kabob and talked about how Brooklyn has a pretty great baseball team. Tap stayed inside and talked about his ballpoint pen. It was a good night.

Hat debate

2007-05-18T17:54:00.000-04:00

Moderator: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.

Andy (in front row): And children.

Moderator: Oh, I didn't realize there was a youngster here.

Andy: Yes. I'm 11.

Moderator: Okay. Glad you could make it. Anyway, we have a fine debate here tonight...

Andy: Could you say 'Good evening' and include me?

Moderator: What?

Andy: You only welcomed ladies and gentlemen. That's not me.

Moderator: Okay. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen and children. We have tonight...

Mutant Fred (in third row): Um, what about me?

Moderator: What about you?

Mutant Fred: Well, I'm a mutant.

Moderator: I don't know what you're trying to pull...

Mutant: I was created in a pool of radioactive sludge using the DNA from a male human, a female rhino and a genderless piece of metal. Why do you think I look like this?

Moderator: I...I thought you were Jewish.

Jewish necktie (in first mezzanine): Hey, I'm Jewish!

Moderator: You're also a necktie!

Jewish necktie: And I should be welcomed to this debate!!

Moderator: I'm not reintroducing the debate for you. I don't even understand how you talk.

Jewish necktie: Magic, that's how. Now start again and mention me.

Moderator: No!

Jewish necktie: I'll yell then! RARARARARARARRARARRAAA!!!

Moderator: OKAY! Good evening, ladies and gentlemen...and children...and mutants...and neckties...and any other objects, inanimate or otherwise, who may be in attendance tonight. We are gathered for a debate...

Gallon of invisible ink [whereabouts unknown]: Hey, what about me?

Moderator: Who was that? Where are you?

Gallon of invisble ink: It's me. Invisible ink. You can't see me. And you didn't mention me when you said 'Good evening.'

Moderator: I specifically phrased it in a way to welcome everything.

Gallon of invisible ink: No, you said 'objects.' I'm invisible. Not an object.

Moderator: Oh, come on.

Gallon of invisible ink: Look it up, in the dicitionary. Go dictionary. Show him.

[Dictionary walks up on stage]

Moderator: Oh, for God's sake.

Dictionary: It's on page 456.

Moderator: OK, OK. yes, I see here it says in the definition for 'invisible' that 'invisible things cannot be considered objects.'

Gallon of invisible ink: Right-o. So kindly start again.

Moderator: Fine. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen and children and mutants and all objects (inanimate or otherwise) and all things invisible...and anything else in any form anywhere. Now, we have...

The idea of fire: What about me!!

Moderator: [kills himself]

My favorite memories about the time I was born

2007-05-09T15:10:00.000-04:00

-Covered in goo
-A pelican biting my eye
-Seven dogs singing
-Double the vagina right?
-Diagnosis of carpal tunnel syndrome
-Being shoved back in
-A necktie being put on me
-"You Can Go Your Own Way" By Fleetwood Mac playing
-Eyewitness 9 News Helicopter circling

Take that, Lincoln Memorial

2007-04-12T19:03:00.000-04:00

Hey there, all you web-savvy savages. So we're doing a show in Washington DC tomorrow -- that is, Friday. And while most people would artistically represent our nation's capital with a picture of like a monument or a protest rally (yeah democracy!) or a belt on a scale (belt + weigh...it's like beltway...yeah? no? shut up), we're using this picture of a Washington subway stop. Why? Because this country was built on public transportation. Seriously. Mayflower. That shit was public. George Washington crossing the Delaware? That was more or less a tram. A public tram. Seriously, I have a point. Just trust me.

Anyway...the show. It's part of the DC Comedy Fest (which is more or less spectacular), and we're performing with these other NYC hoodlums called Trophy Dad. They are funny...like funny as a cow sex. So if you're in DC on Friday night, don't assassinate the Secretary of Agricultre. Come see our show. Then we can all go and plot a fantastic coup together. Subway stops!

Here:
Friday, April 13th (yeah, yeah, day of bad luck, whatever, go melt yourself onto bread)
10:30 pm
Cleanest River and Trophy Dad
The Mead Theater at Flashpointe
(916 G Street, NW, Washington, DC 20001; VIA METRO: Located just steps from the Gallery Place - Chinatown stop - 9th & G exit- on Metro's Red, Green, and Yellow Lines)

Thanks for always smiling.

On stage tonight! With a dictionary!

2007-04-09T12:25:00.000-04:00

Hey YOU! We have a show today. TODAY. It's us and Slightly Known People (a group so good they'll make you forget all about that whole exploding-abortion thing you've been going through recently) together at the PIT at 9:30 pm. Our whole show is based on Webster's College Dictionary and a real dictionary is playing all the key speaking roles. The show is also directed by a dictionary (not the same one playing the major parts; that would just be ASKING for trouble). And in lieu of lights, dictionaries will be illuminating the stage area. Cost of the show is 5 dictionaries (with a two dictionary minimum). If you have any questions, send a dictionary to dictionary@otterholocaust.dictionary

genuine details:
Cleanest River and Slightly Known People
PIT Theater (154 W 29th St betw 6 and 7 aves)
930 pm, 5 dollars
Dictionaries will be seated first

There be all kinds of shows coming up

2007-03-29T18:56:00.000-04:00

Hey, hey. It's Dale The Giant Rooster here to tell you to see some live sketch comedy. Go to a couple of these shows or I'll cover you in feed. Rooster feed!

Upcoming Cleanest River engagements:
-Thursday, April 5th at 7:30 pm
@ Galapagos Art Space (70 N. 6th Street in Brooklyn)
With Sketch This, Totally Awesome Victory

-Saturday, April 7th at 8:00 pm
@ Rififi Cinema Classics (322 E 11th St in Manhattan)
With Olde English

-Monday, April 9th at 9:30 pm
@ the PIT (154 W 29th in Manhattan)

-Friday, April 13th at 10:30 pm
@ Flashpointe Theatre in Washington DC
Part of DC ComedyFest

NOTE: GIANT ROOSTERS ARE ADMITTED FREE OF CHARGE TO SOME OF THESE PERFORMANCES

SECOND NOTE: CHICKEN SALAD = CIVIL WAR

THIRD NOTE: GIANT ROOSTERS DON'T WEAR TROUSERS (USUALLY)

Really...what would you do?

2007-03-22T16:05:00.000-04:00

Have you finally figured out an answer to last week's business-etiquette question? You probably vomitted staplers and jerked yourself off in the data center because you were thinking so hard about it. Well, pull up a stack of year-end reports and sit on them...cause here comes another question, another TYPICAL, EVERYDAY situation that REGULARLY unfolds in offices from Portland to Portland (there's Portlands in two states and they're on each end of the country...wow!) Read the details and then choose what the correct course of action would be. You're such a doll, you.

SITUATION #2

It's one of those really hectic mornings at your corporation--a big client presentation, a going-away party for the retarded janitor Glerbaff (really, Glerbaff, that's her name) and the monthly flood drill (during which 64 million gallons of water are dumped into your building and everyone has to swim to the desert island on the eighth floor). Now, just as the flood drill gets underway and you start executing a perfect sidestroke through the executive assistant's cubicle, Frankie Muniz enters the office. Yeah, that Frankie Muniz -- of "Malcolm in the Middle" fame. "Oh crapstand!" you exclaim, relaizing you've forgotten that today is also the day you were scheduled to cover Frankie Muniz' face with butter. Muniz is standing there, in neck-deep water, glaring at you and waiting for his Land O Lakes facial. It's important that he receives this because he's made it clear that if his face is left unbuttered, he'll fill your entire office in with Staind CDs. But it's also important that you get to that desert island on the eighth floor with the rest of your colleagues. If you all don't all get there within 5 minutes, your CEO is gonna blow up Dubai (the blossoming Middle Eastern city-state that has the world's highest tennis court! I swear, that's true, it's like on 98th floor of a building). Good gracious. What do you doooooo?

a) Kill Muniz with the dagger you keep in your shoe and get to the island as fast as possible. (We're talking about a VERY important tennis court here.)

b) Start buttering up Muniz' face and use your sweet blue tooth head thing to call your co-worker Kenblicht and tell her to power up the hologram of you she keeps with her at ALL TIMES. That way, it'll appear to your CEO that you're on the island and he will spare Dubai and its high-altitude sports courts.

c) Find the retarded janitor Glerbaff and fuck her and fuck her and fuck her and fuck her until she does that weird mule-like whimper thing and drools on your dong. I mean, you have to stop then. That whimper's just sick.

Correct answer: THE ULTIMATE WARRIOR!

What would you do?

2007-03-15T17:00:00.000-04:00

Think you know how to act in a business environment? Well, let's put your office-park IQ to the test. Read the following situation that OBVIOUSLY happens ALL THE TIME in corporate America and then read the possible courses of action you could take and then decide which one is right and then read further to see what you SHOULD do. If you choose the wrong response, you have to hang yourself in the nearest conference room. Seriously! Those are the rules. Okay...

Situation 1:
The chief mustard officer at your company is retiring so all the employees are invited to go out to a nearby recycling plant that evening so that you can all take turns dumping newspaper and cans on his forehead. But you already have post-work plans: You're supposed to kill six members of the San Antonio Spurs as they exit their team bus in Houston. What do you tell your supervisor (who reaaaaally wants you to go to the recycling plant so he can eat out your asshole)?

a) Tell your supervisor you can't go, but buy him a gecko with a huge butt so he can still lick shit off something.

b) Go to the recycling plant and pretend to enjoy yourself despite the fact that as you sit there tossing garbage at a mustard-department exec, six San Antonio Spurs are not being killed in any way.

c) Hack into the brain of the San Antontio Spurs' bus driver so that he unloads the team at the recycling plant instead of in Houston. When those six players get off the bus, unleash a gaggle of razorblad geese (geese that are born with razorblades on their feet, mouth and tailfeathers) and watch as they systematically destroy those basketball phenoms. When the geese fly off to battle the ghost of Waler Cronkite, collect the remains of the Spurs players and toss them at the mustard exec as your co-workers cheer and you asshole gets tongued.

Correct answer: X = 456.

Suck my clock

2007-03-12T17:55:00.000-04:00

So this computer I'm using. It didn't change with daylight savings time...because daylight savings time got all pushed forward to stop global warming and save Darfur and help Americans cut down on caramel and stuff. So anyway, since the clock didn't change itself, I tried to move it forward on my own by doing some shifty double and single clicking on strategically placed icons. And I got the time correctly adjusted. However, just seconds later the computer went ahead AND CHANGED IT BACK. At first I scoffed and adjusted the time again, but the computer changed it back again. I tried again. It changed it again. Eventually I was told I would have to reboot to get the time to stay and I did so and that worked, but I think there's more going on than a simple software mishap. That is, the war with machines is under way, and we are facing an enemy we can't possibly defeat.

See, this computer knew what it was doing. I felt its hatred for me each time it changed the clock back to the wrong time. And yeah, I eventually got the situation resolved in my favor, but still this computer knows that whenever it's feeling up to it can change some numbers around. Turn 5:15 into 6:15. Make an AM into a PM. Make EST STD. And it knows that doing this will make me loopy as a lumberjack. I mean, what really do we have if we lose control of time? If I can't say for certain what time it is right now, at this exact moment, I can't say for certain what day it is, or what week it is, or what year it is. Even thinking about this makes a sliver of doubt drift into my head and it's whispering to me, softly but clearly...and with an Indian accent. It's saying: "You know, bad boy, it could be 1847 and there's nothing you can do about it." What if it is 1847? What if we're supposed to be wearing spurs and mining for copper and violently pushing our way through cliche saloon doors? What if I'm the sheriff and you're Billy the Kid? What if the Old West is new and YouTube is a ghost town? HOLY QUANTUM LEAP!

See, this is how the machines will fight us. Timekeeping is their version of a suicide bomber. We have all the mental and creative artillery, but they have this one weapon that we have no surefire we of stopping. Actually, maybe it's more of a nuclear weapon...because it can destroy us swiftly and completely. Maybe I should stop making military metaphors and build a sun dial. AHHA! That's it! Stop reading this now, and figure out alternate ways of timekeeping. Sun dials. Hourglasses. The counting of sunrises. There you go. You can't stop me now computer. You can't stop me now.

A Very Compelling Interview

2007-03-08T17:07:00.000-05:00

In this fast-paced society of iPods, itineraries and icecapades it sure can be tough to actually have conversations with the people that live and work right around us. Like this morning, on your way into work, did you stop and talk to the front-desk receptionist or did you avoid eye contact, walk a little faster and think to yourself how it would feel to be inside her? Exactly. You know what I'm talkin bout, dogg.

Anyway, in an effort to "slow things down" and "reconnect people with the individuals that create the social fabric of their respective communities," Cleanest River presents a new feature: Very Compelling Interviews. In this very space on a somewhat regular basis, we'll present conversations with some of the finest members of American society. Up first...THE BUS BRIVER.

Cleanest River: Hi, Bus Driver.

Bus Driver: Sit down or I'm turnin' this rig right around and you'll all be stuck at school till tomorrow.

CR: Oh, hahaha. Is that how you get the kiddies in line?

BD: I ain't kidding. I have a driver's license, see?

CR: Yeah, looks like it's laminated and everything.

BD: You got a driver's license?

CR: Sure do.

BD: Does it got your picture on it?

CR: Yep. Anyway, tell us a little bit about your daily...

BD: Well, does it got one of these numbers?

CR: A date-of-birth? Yeah, it's got one of those. But, seriously...

BD: Gimmee your hand.

CR: Uh, what?

BD: Gimmee your hand. I wanna see somethin.

CR: Okay [holds out hand]

[BD bites hand violently]

CR: Ahh! What the crap?

BD: Won't be driving nowhere now. HA!

CR: Okay, listen. We just wanted to know a little bit more about you. Now we're covered in blood!

BD: Indeed you are! Now git on the bus--recess is over!

CR: No, we're going home.

BD: The wheels on the bus go kill kill kill...kill kill kill...kill kill kill...

[CR runs]

that WAS compelling!

News Headlines on the BBC Flash Page: 1) Marty Scores! 2) Beyonce Avoids Hepatitis 3) What I'm about to talk about

2007-03-01T03:35:00.000-05:00

Allow me to be myself for a second and to share a piece of myself with all of you. Yes. All too often, I gotta say, we important cyber space people, which is what you are if you have a blog (you're important) we get so lost in what we want people to think we care about and not what we actually DO care about. See in blogs, when you capitalize words like I did back THERE (or right there) it means they're important...just like the very person writing the very blog YOU ARE reading (oh there I go again).

Instead, I want to take down the Iron Curtain...a clever reference to Communism...and talk about what is really happening in my and really our lives. Our lives not only as people enjoying the information superhighway but as Americans.

Cleanest River was selected as one of the acts for the DC Comedy Festival. Yeah. It's pretty exciting. Right? It's okay to be excited about it. But I think the real thing to be excited about is the social change that we now can encourage. Not too long ago, I used to believe in things. Yes. I was bright eyed, lived in Williamsburg, NY, listened to Aimee Mann and the "I Am Sam" soundtrack for days on end. Now that I have the OPPORTUNITY...a clever reference to the EEOC...to go back to DC, I'm going to set things right. By doing the following...

1) Reading the HR Bill 6111 out loud at a Denny's breakfast stop

2) Passing trade legislation about creating more tv reality shows about Victoria Beckham

3) Visiting the Smithsonian museum (not really for change, but I like looking at WWII aircrafts)

4) Making sure to not burn things

5) Finding Jesus in a rival tomb than the one James Cameron found Jesus in

6) Napping

7) Directly after performing, reading the names of the people that died in the battle of Bunker Hill

7a) This...

8) Revealing the names of high school teachers of mine that slept with their students

9) Napping

10) Buying War & Peace at Barnes & Noble, not to read it but to flirt with several store clerks.

Come see these things happen in April when we perform with all the other IMPORTANT people who keep blogs ABOUT themselves. Excuse me, there's this great video of a horse with glasses on reading the US Constitution on YouTube.

(Put pun here) Wednesday

2007-02-21T11:01:00.000-05:00

So it's Ash Wednesday. Today is the day we remember the time Jesus tried his hand at chimney sweeping. See, when he was done for the day, he didn't get all the soot off his face, and when he headed over to the local tavern, this one local was all like "Jesus, Jesus. Ever heard of a wash cloth? Go back to the Galilee homeless shelter from whence you came!" And, boy, did that line get riotous laughter from the other locals. Jesus, mortified, walked out of the tavern and saw the face of God in a BF Goodrich tire. And that's why we have the internet today. Hurrah, Ash Wednesday!

But seriously, this blog is too clever to just stick with the traditional Ash Wednesday phrase. I mean, look at all these other really really funny things you could say instead.

Hey! It's HASH Wednesday. Let's smoke that shit that's a little bit cheaper than weed!

Hey! It's CLASH Wenesday. Let's wear pinstriped pants and a flannel shirt...and listen to "Rock the Casbah." (Oooo, that one worked on two levels. Take that, Christians!)

Hey! It's ARTHUR ASHE Wednesday. Let's have a U.S. Open tennis facility named after us! (No AIDS jokes here, thank you)

Hey! It's MUSTACHE Wednesday. Let's look like Freddie Mercury and bang dudes and get AIDS! (That wasn't a joke -- just a stated fact)

Hey! It's SASH Wendesday. Let's be hall monitors and wear pieces of cloth that denote our authority! AIDS!

Hey! It's 50-YARD DASH Wednesday. Let's try our hardest during field day! Wear a condom!

Hey! It's DISGUSTING BLEEDING GASH Wednesday. Say something about Greg Louganis! Does chlorine kill the virus? DOES IT?

(I'm stopping. I'm making myself feel uncomfortable now.)

Who put cheese on the old-timey Brit?

2007-02-08T18:00:00.000-05:00

This is what Webster's New World College Dictionary gives as its secondary deinition for the word "macaroni":

"an English dandy in the 18th cent. who affected foreign mannerisms and fashions"

Really funny corporate circuit standup bowling pin, make us laugh

2007-02-04T18:15:00.000-05:00

RFCCS Bowling Pin: How are men and parking spots alike? The good ones are always taken and the ones that are left are handicapped.

Oh RFCCS Bolwing Pin, you totally get women and traffic.

Things I'd rather shit besides shit on a regular basis

2007-01-31T22:15:00.000-05:00

- Tiny man that pops out and tells you the time and temperature

-Felt

-Peter Jennings

-Theme music to the "Prarie Home Companion."

-Jeff?

-A new lease on life

-Slogans. Very profitable slogans.

-Two wires that eventually morph into a new form of transportation.

-A despot

-Blood

High School Sports!

2007-01-31T13:42:00.000-05:00

It might be cold outside, but man oh man, the temperature around high school sports must be about 45,000 degrees! Celcius! That's right, it's the end of January so high school sports are heating right up...I just burnt myself formulating that thought!

Hey! Look what I eyed in the Asheville Citizens-Times this morning:
"Veritas Christian Academy center Catalin Baciu now holds scholarship offers from three Atlantic Coast Conference schools. According to Warriors coach John Jordan, Wake Forest recently jumped into the running for Baciu, a 7-foot-1 junior from Romania. Clemson and N.C. State previously tendered offers."

7-foot-1!! Whoa! Guess you could say he's really at the top of his class! Well, I for one am glad to see that students like Catalin can come over and thrive in our high schools even if they come from places really far away (according to the always-dependable search engine ALTA VISTA, Romania is more than 7,000 miles away -- you're not taking a school bus there, I'll tell ya!)

So what I really wanted to do was sit down with Catilin over a couple of STRAWBERRY malts and discuss his experiences as a high school sports athlete and absurdly tall immigrant. But I lost my phone at a pep rallly for a high school Snood team in Alabama, so I couldn't get ahold of him. No worries. I'm pretty sure I know what he'd say anyway, so I made the whole interview up!

Me: Thanks for joining me Catalin. How's your STRAWBERRY malt?

Catalin: [in thick Romanian accent] It is good. Would you like to see me slam dunk this basketball?

Me: Oh my goodness! Yes!

Catalin: There. The basketball has been slam dunked.

Me: That was quite a backboard shaker! So what was Romania like?

Catalin: It was not as good as America. We had no high school sports.

Me: I can't even conceive of such a place.

Catalin: Now I'll shoot a three-point shot.

Me: Swish!! Are you excited to take your game to the college level?

Catalin: I'm excited to be a high school athlete.

Me: You said it. Oh my gosh, your head just turned into a gymnasium.

Catalin: It is because they serve us much milk at lunch.

Me: Calcium wins again!

Catalin: May I order another malt?

Me: Only if you promise to win districts!

Catalin: I play for the life lessons, not the trophies.

Me: Your entire arm is Bobby Knight!

Sorry to bother you

2007-01-23T15:48:00.000-05:00

You're busy. Reports to write, philosophies to articulate, sky-bridges to design and construct. But take a break for one second and LOOK AT THE SIZE OF THIS MOTHER FUCKING CAT:

The Angry Swimming Pool (volume 3)

2007-01-22T11:55:00.001-05:00

Anncr: Holy moly shave me slowly! The Angry Swimming Pool is back in the neighborhood, and he looks a little sauced!

Swimming Pool: C'mon, I've had like one beer.

Anncr: One? More like genocide!!

Swimming Pool: What? It's a nice afternoon. Can you just leave me alone? For once?

Anncr: Pap smir stockingfeet! The Angry Swimming Pool is steeeeaming!! If you're listening in your car, I'd say just drive into a lake! Now! Die with dignity!!

Swimming Pool: No, listen. No one do anything drastic. I'm cool. I'm just here to barbecue.

Anncr: The Angry Swimming Pool just mocked Christianity!!!

Swimming Pool: How? I just said...

Anncr: He's got a beard! He's a jihadist! An enemy combatant!!

Swimming Pool: I'm a swimming pool for God's sake. I don't subscribe to any ideology. Except buoyancy (chuckles to himself).

Anncr: He's laughing!! He's trivializing human existence!! What about those climbers on Mt. Hood, asshole?! Send this Angry Angry Swimming Pool to the gallows!! (Two henchmen enter, attempt to put rope around Swimming Pool's neck.)

Swimming Pool: C'mon. Cut it out.

Anncr: Hoist this Angry Swimming Pool, boys!

Swimming Pool: That's it. (Swimming Pool executes stellar ninja kick, knocking henchman onto their backsides)

Anncr: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

Swimming Pool: No, please, listen to me. I deserve better...

Anncr: I can't even describe my fear (takes out knife, cuts off his own tongue)

Swimming Pool: Jesus. (Creates giant wave, flooding North America for six years. All living things perish, but when the floodwaters recede, the sun shines and the bare Earth seems to hold limitless possibilities. The Swimming Pool climbs to the top of a hill and breathes in deeply.)

Anncr: He's got a tank missile!!

Swimming Pool: How are you not dead?

Anncr: Drive into a lake, ladies and gentlemen!! Drive. Into. A. Lake!!!

Swimming Pool: (sigh)

Well look who's fucking back...

2007-01-13T19:41:00.000-05:00

So this lady. This pretty fucking great lady is.

Yeah. I emailed, curtly emailed the google/blogger/aluminum tech crew. And they were able to restore my name, saying they apologized for the error. Yeah. A little fucking late.

But this lady. This pretty fucking great lady is forgiving. So i'll forgive and move on. Because after all, it is Lent.

Yeah. I moved it.

In other news, a man made of tin died yesterday in his sleep.

High school sports!

2007-01-11T12:44:00.000-05:00

Holy moly! High school sports are really something else. Young men and women coming to together to achieve the intangibles: Camraderie, trust, district trophies (which are actually pretty tangible but which REPRESENT success, and success is extremely intangible). In this spirit, I offer a new feature--THE HIGH SCHOOL SPORTS ROUNDUP AND COMMENTARY DISCUSSION CHAT-UP SITDOWN. Whewee! Here's the deal. I use the internet and read something about high school athletics. Then I discuss it here. Maybe someday I'll even go to a high school sports match and write about it in the FIRST PERSON! WHOAHHHH!

Okay. Grab your adolescent squeamishness and jump into this exciting world with me. Just finish your homework first (AHAHAHAHA...do you get that joke? AHAHAHAHA.)

This comes from the Jan. 7 Hartford Courant (they put information about high school sports right into NEWSPRINT!! God bless the FOURTH ESTATE!!!!!!!!):

MIDDLETOWN -- Jessica Sullivan set the state girls indoor pole vault record for the second time in 15 days at the 64th Hartford Public Indoor Track Invitational Saturday at Wesleyan University.

Sullivan, a Norwich Free Academy senior, cleared 10 feet, 9 inches, a 21/2-inch improvement over her vault Dec. 22 at the Jack Long Invitational.

Wowee, Jessica! I think the House of Pain recorded that song "Jump Around" just for you! Two state records in 15 days? What are you planning to do next month--rewrite the Constitution, twice? AHAAAAHHAA. Okay, I guess that doesn't really make sense, does it?

Jessica, here's my advice: Buy some sandpaper and take the first bus you see to Raleigh (the one in Puerto Rico, not North Carolina). And when you get there, just start sanding wood like crazy. As fast as you can for as long as you can. And then, just when all the locals are like "what the dandoodles?" take out your pole and jump over all their little houses. Then make a face like this one:

Congratulations, Jessica! HIGH SCHOOL SPORTS ARE REALLY TREMENDOUS!!

I'd like to file a complaint against everyone

2007-01-08T10:31:00.000-05:00

Okay. So. This is appleshoot here.

Oh. I know it says Stick-bomb. But it's really appleshoot.

So I guess google, somehow, misplaced my account in their upgrade from Beta 2.0 to Cunt.suckalot version. And now I no longer exist. So now that the kind appleshoot is dead, the kind blogger who would post whimsicle tales of fancy is dead dead, I'm fucking here to spread vehement lies against everyone, because I blame everyone for appleshoot being missing.

1- Gerald Ford is dead.
2- Joy Behart is a bitch.
3- I taste absolutely no difference between the Healthy Choice campbell's soup and the regular.

OH? Those are all true??? 2007 my ass.

New Year's Resolution

2007-01-02T17:37:00.000-05:00

I will not post pictures of people dressed like penguins.

Shit.

20 x 100 + 23 - 16 = 2007

2007-01-01T22:27:00.000-05:00

It’s 2007. How excited are you? Oh really, rectal exam. Sorry.

Regardless. Everyone is sharing his or her new years resolution. Hilary Duff is going to stop eating sweets in the new years according to her blog. Rosie Odonnell is going to order more babies. Saddam Hussein is…oh…nevermind. (Too soon?)

But as for me, I’m not posting shit about resolutions. But one cliché I do enjoy is looking back and reflecting on how far I’ve come as a human being robot bear rocket ship.

I have pretty much every journal I’ve kept since I was 10. One journal entry from my 7th grade journal says, “I need to start eating more crackers. I forget how delicious they are.” Mmm, crackers, especially when you make little meat faces on them. But my favorite is the following from a January entry from my senior year of high school. There's only one line on the page and I only wish I could remember the context.

“Fuck birds.”

Like…that could be a new years resolution.

I think that woman Carol killed JFK

2006-12-25T18:08:00.000-05:00

Christmas time has always warmed my heart. I actually have a heart made out of lamp oil so it's always a time of the year when I have to watch myself because at time my chest lights on fire and kill a lot of old people and deer.

But those times when I don't burst into flames, I remember the stories of my old christmases. Oh yes. Those times that families share together as they eat saws and listen to Connie Chung recite a Christmas Carol over their two-way radio they bought at Walmart. I remember the time when my grandmother threw a ham at my family (true) and the time my brother shot a mouse through a box with a bee bee gun in front my mom who started crying (true) and the time I fell down a flight of stairs twice and laid on the floor for 30 mins unconscious and no one came to see if I was all right (true) and the time aunt Helen fisted a beer (oKSYSDA THAT:S FALLSEEE)!!

But the most clear memory I have of Christmas is one of joy and sadness. It was the time when I was perhaps 9 or 10 and went sledding with this woman named Carol. Carol was of no relation to me. None. She was actually not even good friends with my family. She was literally this woman Carol. My mom had to go to work, and my dad had to go somewhere. I was in need of babysitting for a short amount of time, and I'm pretty sure they just knew this woman Carol because they saw her once. They left me with Carol, and she decided to take me sledding. I loved sledding. I loved it. Plain and simple. I was very good at childhood you might say. I enjoyed all those silly little activities that make you a kid. Sledding. Face painting. Soiling your pants. Sign me up.

This woman Carol suited me up in a snowsuit that wasn't mine. It had belonged to her son Andrew who was now grown up. It was a Buffalo Bills snowsuit with buttons, zippers and clasps that locked a child in all directions and supports and ways. It was like straight jacket of fun and sports appreciation. I was all bundled up and ready for a day of sledding.

This woman Carol took me to a hill near this school her son Andrew had attended, and even though I was 9 or 10, it struck me as odd how much she tried to pretend I was Andrew. Once I'm even sure she called me Andrew. I had not brought my sled that day to this woman Carol's house, but it didn't matter since I just borrowed one of Andrew's. I got ready to go down the hill the first time. I saddled up onto the sled and began to inch forward. All of a sudden, I burst down the hill! This woman Carol had run up behind me and said "LAUNCH!" She said the word "LAUNCH!" and pushed me with everything she had in her, falling over in the process. I was fucking out of control. My sled was hurdling forward in all different directions. And this hill...this hill that Andrew probably had sled down countless times before after being LAUNCHED! by his mother Carol was fucking steep and large. I was screaming but everyone else there with their kids just thought I was having fun, having no idea what this woman Carol had just done to me. As I hurdled further and further down the hill, faster and faster I approached the bottom where people were ending their runs. The thing is my FMA formula (force = mass x acceleration) was not going to have me end anywhere near these people. Hence, they became targets. BOOM! One kid went down tumbling to the side on his orange circle disc. I had no time to look back before BOOM! A duo of girls who had just chain sled down the hill passed under my sled which at this point perhaps had flames on it. BOOM! An abandoned sled (smart kid) flew up into the air as I plowed directly into its heart. I could not be stopped. My FMA was fucking up this hill. I assume this woman Carol was standing at the top of Everest admiring her work. I felt the end nearing. I was slowing somewhat but my direction was still all over the place. I tried to steer but I was in a fucking blue piece of plastic. There's no starboard or port direction in a plastic vessel of hell. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! I don't even know what those were but I was sure of the BOOM! that lay ahead. My finale. My ending. My exodus. Ahead of me stood a middle aged man, having just sled down the hill himself perhaps trying to relive the childhood he wasted and could never reclaim. There was no way around him. I couldn't veer in either direction. I swerve to the left, a group of young children making snow angels. I swerve to the right and I was toast. The angle would have been too severe and a-tumbling my carcus would go. There was no choice but to go through the heart of the beast. I braced myself. I thought of all the things in my life that I had loved. My puppy Ted. My little playskool kitchen. My classmate crush Michael Brooks. This was it. This was the end. BOOM!

After all these years, I remember that man's face as he turned to see what fate had brought him. His wasted childhood came hurdling at him, dressed in a Buffalo Bills straight jacket on a blue flame thrower of plastic speed. This man only wanted a second chance. He didn't deserve this LAUNCH! We all grow up too quickly that we miss those moments that seem pointless and stupid at the time. All we do is look ahead to getting wasted or making out with boys or girls in the back seats of cars. The things we miss in the process. It's a shame. That poor man.

BOOM! I went directly under his legs ducking my head at just the correct moment to not end his adult life as he knew it. I did knock him over but his jewels remained in tact. I finally came to a stop, crouching downward on the sled, clutching onto it as though it was the one thing that understood me as a person. I just crouched there. I didn't want to look back at the carnage. The blood. The tears. The regret. I crouched there. Not moving. I could hear the man who probably stopped sledding after that day scream out, "Are you okay, kid?" I didn't scream back. I saw a shadow form over me. It was that woman Carol. She patted me on the back. Pulled back my hood. And asked, "Ready to go again?"

I soiled Andrew's Buffalo Bills snow pants at that exact moment.

AHHHHH!!

2006-12-13T13:37:00.000-05:00

Only two mo' chances to see FEINGOLD'S HOLIDAY EXTRAVAGANZA BLOWOUT SALE. Chance one: This Saturday...the 16th of December. If you're not there, you better have a gosh darn good excuse...like if Earth's gravitational pull were to increase 70 fold, making it basically impossible for you to move (and probably sucking the moon in thousands of miles closer and destroying the planet's natural harmony)--if that happenes, that might, MIGHT, be an acceptable excuse. If your cat dies, that's not. In fact, if your cat dies, bring the little shit to the show and we'll incorporate its carcass into a skit about shopping. Promise.

Hooray! December 16 (Saturday). 7 pm. PIT Theater--154 W 29th St. The comedy is eight dollars. The firm handshakes we'll be giving out on the sidewalk are absolutely free.

Are you a bulletin board?

2006-12-05T12:43:00.000-05:00

The come to our show this very Saturday cause bulletin boards get to sit in the front row for free...and they get free champagne and a swag bag (filled with too many goodies to be listed here, but we will say there's an XXL T-shirt--cause bulletin boards are really wide, yo)!

And if you're not a bulletin board, come anyway and pay homage to those giant rectangles that give everyone in America a perfect place to post fliers announcements and feet (this one night in college I cut off this dude's feet and hung em on a bulletin board...wow, I was crazy then). In addition, at the end of this show we're killing absolutely everyone in attendance. So, you know...

OK!

Saturday December 9
7:00 pm
The Peoples Improv Theater
154 W 29th St between 6 and 7 Aves
Eight dollah

Also, check out a review of the show in Jester Journal.

Tis the season for violence...

2006-11-28T11:08:00.000-05:00

NEXT SHOW: THIS SATURDAY AT 7:00
FREE FISH FOR KIDS UNDER 5

Friday: Ladies Day Advice****

2006-11-17T13:51:00.000-05:00

Ladies, Potassium is good for your muscles. AND LORD KNOWS we need our MUSCLES to DO CARDIO! So, remember to eat bananas LADIES! They're good for you!!!! WEAR EM!

IF THERE'S ONE THING I HATE....

2006-11-16T18:10:00.000-05:00

IT'S AMERICANS WHO USE THE WORD HOLIDAY AS A SYNONYM FOR VACATION. "WHERE'S JIM? OH. HE'S ON HOLIDAY IN MYRTLE BEACH!" NO. YOU CAN'T SAY THAT, LINDA FROM MARKETING. YOU'RE NOT BRITISH OR FRENCH OR MESOPOTAMIAN. YOU GREW UP IN DELUTH. AND NOW I'LL MURDER YOU FOREVER.

IF THERE'S ANOTHER THING I HATE...

IT'S TURNING OFF MY CAPS LOCK. I REFUSE TO DO IT. REFUSE!!

if you could be any household appliance...

2006-11-12T13:23:00.000-05:00

which would you choose?

a) a refrigerator (or "fridge")

b) a toaster (or "tidge")

c) a washer/dryer combo

d) a nuclear-powered crock pot

e) a giraffe feeder

f) a trapeze

g) an invisible highway

h) a member of a kurdish refugee camp in turkey

j) jerry lee lewis

k) other (please explain further on the back of this form)

i'd choose: e) the entire cast of "something's gotta give"

Ladies POST 2D@Y!

2006-11-10T12:55:00.000-05:00

Don't be Scared! It's Friday! Ladies Read Free! CHOP!

So, Has Evrrybody heard the news? I'm getting another ovary! I love Conway.

My favorite Popista Britney Spears finally dropped the bomb on K-Fed. They're getting divorced. I have so many favorite things about this story I start to hyperventilate just thinking about it. I'll do my top five.

One- The news broke the same day as the Election day coverage. So, on MSNBC, the only two stories they reported on that day were the Election and Brit's Divorce. YEAH NEWS MEDIA MAKE NOISE.

Two- Kevin Federline's nickname is now Fed-Ex.

Three- The break up happened in a text. Right before K...I mean Fed-Ex was served with papers, Brit texted him "I H8 U, Loser". It's sooo fuckin' over when you won't even spell out the word "you". HAHAHAHAHAHA AM I RIGHT LADIES?

Four- Fed-Ex's "album" "dropped" last week to dismal "sales". 7,000 copies sold (the same number as my cousin's demo tape of him fucking a guitar hole...the whole album just the recorded session of having sex with an acoustic guitar). Brit however is now working on her new album with a lobster. True. Wonkette am i right????????

Five- Best quote ever of the week by Fed-Ex. At Chicago's House Of Blues on Wednesday night, he told the crowd: "Hey, I see a lot of fine ladies in here. You know I'm a free man, right, ladies? You wanna dance with a pimp?"

EVERY LADY, do you wanna dance with a pimp?

EVERY LADY: Maybe?

Get em gurrrl. Get em gurrrrrrrl.

2006-11-09T00:27:00.000-05:00

Yeah this lady is gonna fuck up your tea party now that the Democrats are having sex again with the American nation. They were having a dry spell; now they've been called in. Good for them.

And this lady, Pelosi, is at the head of the House, she is gonna buck some broncos. About time, right?

At a press conference today, Prez. Bush said the following about her: "Yeah i spoke with nancy and was like you must be excited to get an interior decorator in there to get some pretty curtains for your new office."

Other possible future offensive comments Prez. Bush will probably make:

1- Motion to the floor: Make me a sandwich.
2- Lemme suckle that tittie.
3- Is this on the record or are you on the rag?
4- Lets go purse shopping!
5- Really? Pull out of Iraq? Yeah, right after you pull that dick out of you.
6- C U Next Tuesday. Get it Nance? Get it? I am calling you a cunt. (giggles)

I'm Making My Christmas List...No 1...

2006-11-06T17:47:00.000-05:00

This.

Sometimes an e-mail isn't enough...

2006-11-02T16:42:00.000-05:00

It really isn't. Why, just today I needed to remind my dogsitter to take care of Chronicles of Hernia (that's the name of my cocker spaniel) this coming Saturday afternoon. But I knew if I just sent a note to her Hotmail, she'd lose it in the spam shuffle. So what I did was I sent her a package. And in the package was her son. And her son was dead (I had his entire internal-organ structure ripped out of his torso and placed in a large tupperware which was also enclosed in the package). So she's in quite a deal of grief now. But everytime she cries or feels a complete loss of purpose due to her the murder of her only offspring, she'll think of me. And she'll remember I have a cute little spaniel named Chronicles of Hernia and that she needs to come over Saturday to take him out to tinkle and feed him leftover chicken (only people food from my little Chronicles of Hernia). Boy, that's a load off my shoulder blades! Also, I've been arrested.

2006-10-28T21:57:00.000-04:00

This is elliot. He is our number one fan. He is also pregnant.

2006-10-28T02:07:00.000-04:00

pleasefor the love of god cheer.

Regrets...

2006-10-25T16:00:00.000-04:00

Have you ever looked at your son and realized, "I don't love you. I don't love you at all. Not because you ruined my career or my chances for true happiness or because your father left us with no money and you remind me of him. But because you're Haley Joel Osment" ?

I have.

Ladies! Make Noise!

2006-10-20T12:09:00.000-04:00

This entry's for the ladies! I think every Friday, I'ma do a ladies entry! Take back the pop up server! Ha Ha Ha. Microsoft Outlook.

This week's entry. OMG@?&(!!!!)

Sooooooo.....George from Grey's Anatomy is gay. Even better than that! Is on the set, evidently the actors that play Dr. Burke and Dr. McDreamy (haha ladies joke! laugh sound) got into a fight calling each other the word f*gg*t. YEA? That's a true story, and I guess that's how he got outed and had to release a statement in Variety. IS THAT NOT CRAZY?? Put lipstick on.

But seriously, if I could be a cigarette, it would be a V Slim. Because I won't smoke anything that won't show the lipstick I just put on. It's red!

I just heard a woman

2006-10-18T21:13:00.000-04:00

I just heard a woman say... "Im the type of person that likes different things. Because things get old" i am in love

2006-10-18T16:21:00.000-04:00

Leif is upset with congress.

I just ate an entire

2006-10-18T03:03:00.000-04:00

I just ate an entire mule!

Here's me and a baby at Woodrow Wilson's Innagural Address.

2006-10-16T00:24:00.000-04:00

BRAND NEW EMOTIONS!

2006-10-12T17:24:00.000-04:00

That's right, feelings no one's ever experienced before...unveiled here first! Wow! HOO-AH! Get ready to laugh, cry and punch a female Indian all at the same time cause your bodies are not gonna know HOW to react to these internal feelings.

New emotion #1: PITY/LOVE/RESPECT FOR BIKE-MESSENGER MONOLOGIST
This is what you'll feel when a bike messenger comes into your place of work, stands on top of a computer bay and begins telling a chilling story about nearly drowning as a child. Trust us, bike messengers are gonna start doing this ALL THE FUCKING TIME as office workers get sick of internet videos and start looking for new ways to entertain themselves (in another move to stave off boredom, white-collar workers will also start bringing live chickens into work with them). On the one hand, you'll want to ignore that lowly bike messenger--because he spends all day on a bike and doesn't have a sweet wireless mouse like you. But then you'll see a little of yourself in the persona of this modern-day carrier pigeon--his passion for childhood, his rope belt, his green eyes that sparkle beneath the flourescent lighting--and you'll want to get closer to him, maybe nibble on his finger tip, perhaps read him that poetry you wrote and then saved in a virtual cabinet on Groupwise. But NO, you'll realize. You have no right getting so close to such a glorious man among men, for he's a free-spirited wonderchild who buzzes around city blocks all day under a bright blue sky while and you...well, you're nothing but a button pusher, an ant who knows nothing beyond his hill, a lifeform that's drowning in a deep sea of high-speed internet and ID cards and boring carpet and Gmail chat. DAMMIT GMAIL CHAT, you'll scream. STOP BEING SO ALLURING! STOP IMPREGENATING MY SISTER!!! STOP! STOP! STOP!

oh, you'll cry and cry and cry. and when the bike messenger finishes his sotry and climbs down the computer bay, you'll quietly stick a note in his satchel. it will say this: I USED TO RIDE A BIKE, TOO. FO REAL, FOOL.

then you'll shut down your computer, head into the rest room and slowly drown yourself in a sink.

***MORE EMOTIONS TO COME!!****

Guess who reads this blog?

2006-10-05T10:56:00.000-04:00

WARNING HAZARD SIGNS!

Thank you!

Guess who reads this blog?

2006-10-04T16:19:00.000-04:00

THE ENTIRE COUNTRY OF CHINA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thanks guys!

Mirror, mirror...

2006-09-28T17:59:00.000-04:00

Have you ever looked in a mirror and just been kind of, well, surprised? You know, you see something in your self you never noticed before -- a tiny mole on your neck, the odd way your lips touch when you smile, the discoloration of your own teeth.

Well, today I looked in the mirror in the bathroom after waking up and I noticed for the first time that my entire head is a shovel. Yeah, like metal. Some dried up dirt on the top, wooden handle extending into my neck. I swear to God I never saw that before. No seriously. I guess I've always been so self-conscious I just didn't ever really look at myself. But this morning I was real focused...really paid attention. And that's what I saw. A shovel. This is a crazy world!

So then I looked at my arms in the mirror (you can look at your arms without a mirror, of course, but when you look at them in a mirror you REALLY see em). So anyway, I looked at my arms in the mirror, and it turns out they're not arms at all -- they're chemicals. Like part of right arm is sodium nitrate. My left wrist is bicarbonated vermelditide. Both my elbows are anthrax. No, don't look at me like that! I swear I never noticed it before. Crazy world, right?

And there I was: a shovel head, chemical arms. I knew there was more to this unfolding mystery, so I looked at my testicles in the mirror. Just put em right up. And what stared back at me? Testicles. My testicles are real! Not chemical, not gardening tools. I jumped up and down joyously, knowing my most important assets -- the pieces of me that'll pass my essence on to another generation -- were exactly as I'd always seen them.

But in my wild celebration the chemicals that create my arms began reacting viciously. The room was filled with explosions and poison fumes. And somehow, in all the madness, my shovel head became dislodged. It rattled from side to side, and when a particularly jarring explosion sent me scurring into the shower for shelter, my shovel head came came clear off my shoulders and landed in my crotch. My testicles were severed immediately.

"NOOOOOOOO!" I cried. "Anything but that!" But the truth was undeniable. When the chemical dust finally cleared I put my midsection up to the mirror. And there, where my testicles used to be, was the entire country of El Salvador.

A crazy world, I say. A crazy world indeed.

I am very certain MySpace will immediately springboard my band to superstardom.

2006-09-25T15:20:00.000-04:00

Oh man.

My band just signed up for myspace and now we're just waiting. Hey! Check out the new songs we posted. I really think you're going to like them. Yeah. They were recorded in this guy's house I know. He's got this bootleg of Cool Edit Pro and he's really "nice" with it. See, he mostly does hip hop but said he's been wanting to record a thrash-metal-house-indie-rock quartet and I was like hey, the 10,000 Smurfs do that exactly. Yeah I know, catch your breath. That IS our real name and we are definitely on myspace.

Look at all our friends! Every friend request I send out pretty much gets approved and I KNOW it's because they just dig our tracks because the hit count goes up EVERYDAY. Yeah, I know the song automatically plays when you refresh the page but that just means people be lovin' our page.

I did a custom layout where it's like Goth-Chic. You go there and you're like "wow this is very different!" For interests I put "Finding Grandmas to Fuck." (I don't do that! Ha-ha!)

So yeah check out my bands myspace. We usually put up gigs in the gig section. Right now, you know it's kind of hiatus time because we're just not sure how we want to cultivate our sound but whatever it is it's going to be earthshattering definitely.

Also, our salary says 250,000 + up. LOL! NOT TRUE!

Things That Should Exist On Public Busses

2006-09-20T12:26:00.000-04:00

-Reading material...preferably Roald Dahl books.

-Friends: You know, people who are paid to sit next to you and give you sticks of gum if you haven't brushed your teeth.

-Sticks of gum.

-Chess sets. And the pieces should be magnetically attached to the game board so they won't fall off when bus turns, jolts or stops quickly. Also, seats should swivel so riders can spin around and play chess with people behind them. There should also be two or three crazy guys with long gray beards who can beat the christ outta anyone in chess at any time. After they beat you, they should howl and scream out obscure Henry Miller quotes.

-Public safety representatives who carry wooden poles and whack the crazy chess guys if they get too saucy.

-A bear. It would just sit in the back with a copy of "James and the Giant Peach" on his lap. The bear should be friendly--maybe a little depressed--and he should wear a tie. But everyone should be afraid of him anyway.

-Another bus...like smaller, of course, than the main bus. Maybe it could be attached to the roof somehow. And if the main bus crashes into a lake, stream or other body of water, everyone can climb through a trap door into the backup. The backup bus should be able to fly.

-Jello. Shitloads of Jello.

-A driver, who wears a multicolored clown wig and plays an endless stream of Credence Clearwater and Elton John. When you want to get off, you yell "Stop, please." And he gets on the intercom and screams, "Stop? Why this party's just gettin staaaaaarted!" Then he drives into the ocean and the chess guys laugh uncontrollably.

Get your laser-gun-cock out of my ass.

2006-09-19T01:38:00.000-04:00

It's very painful.

Only 48 days till Halloween

2006-09-13T13:22:00.000-04:00

Who saw last night's episode of Law & Order: SVU?

2006-09-07T12:06:00.000-04:00

Phoebe: I was watching Prison Break.

A stuffed clown discusses media conglomeration...

2006-09-06T15:20:00.000-04:00

Man in suit: Thank you, clown, for joining us here today.

Clown: Oh, you're too kind.

MIS: Well, let's get down to this. Mass media as a whole is really in the hands of four or five major corporations.

Clown: I know. And those corporations are all controlled by one entity.

MIS: Oh, you mean the government?

Clown: No, I mean the ocean.

MIS: Um, okay. Could you elaborate?

Clown: It's pretty self-explanatory, really. Tidal waves, coral, the submarines. Jessh! Fucking jeesh!

MIS: Please, clown, try to avoid profanity. We're on network TV.

Clown: I'm just trying to make my point.

MIS: Let's move along. There are some good aspects of media conglomeration...

Clown: It's relaxing to just sit and watch the oceanliners, I guess.

MIS: Uh, I'm talking more about the fact that large media companies can bring in-depth coverage of events to places all over the country. You can get the 'New York Times' in Fargo, North Dakota, for instance and...

Clown: Fargo? That'll be under water someday.

MIS: What?

Clown: In twenty years, we're all gonna be sea creatures.

MIS: Okay, clown, you said you were an authority on the current media environment.

Clown: I am. For one thing I have a post-graduate degree in marine science.

MIS: That doesn't...

Clown: And for another, I'm made entirely of butter.

MIS: I thought you were a stuffed clown!

Clown: Nope. Here's some bread. Rub it against my arm.

MIS: Okay.

Clown: Tastes good, right? Real, real good.

MIS: That's...that's absolutely delicious.

Clown: ATLANTIS!

Open Letter to Elizabeth Taylor

2006-09-05T17:38:00.001-04:00

Dear Lizzy,

I wanna touch you. On the face.

New business venture...are you in?

2006-08-31T13:42:00.000-04:00

I think I want to start a business. And that business would be based around something I'm sure google will add after reading this to their collection of like Google Mail, Google Maps, Google Car Crash, Google Artificial Limb stuff. My business would be a service that companies subscribe to where they will get those "CRrrRRaAAZZzzYYy" emails with pictures of dogs with cigars, or lemurs with business ties, and they get emailed around the office. So, now no one would have to worry "Is Hal going to send out another funny email?" Because PoochPlant Inc (my company name) has that taken care of. Our first email would be...

followed by...

concluding with...

Do I have any investors interested?

Why we'd all be happier as large, awkward sea mammals

2006-08-29T18:11:00.000-04:00

Story from a reputable news organization

"Florida manatees spend a great deal of time eating, with frequent naps between meals. Their social world is relatively straightforward. Males mate with females in a violent affair that resembles a gang rape."

Well, dudes would be happier at least.

The ham sketch

2006-08-23T16:00:00.000-04:00

[Wiley and Steve standing in front of a table in a large kitchen]

Wiley: Steven!

Steve: Sir, please. It's Steve.

Wiley: Steven. Bring me...

Steve: You know the rules, sir.

Wiley: Bring me...the ham!

Steve: I can't, sir. I'm here to supervise you until social time is over and you go back to your furnished hole.

Wiley: The ham! Immediately!

Steve: Um. [takes receipt out of his pocket] Here, this is your ham.

Wiley: The ham!

Steve: Yep, there it is.

Wiley: THE HAM!! [jumps up onto table]

Steve: Sir, please.

Wiley: So tender...so delish!

Steve: Like delicious? Seriously, get down, sir.

Wiley: DELISH! DELISH! [jumps up and down]

Steve: I'm telling you. Settle down or it's back to the furnished hole.

Wiley: [Kicks Steve in head] I need a broth!

Steve: Ow! Get down! Now!

Wiley: A broth to cook the ham in. The senator will be so pleased!

Steve: You don't know any senator, sir. Now, listen, social time is over!

Wiley: I have my ham! I have my senator!

Steve: Jesus Christ. [gets on table to pull him down]

Wiley: Ah! I'm never going back to the hole!

Steve: Quiet!

Wiley: Ham! Ham, help me!

[The receipt transforms into a large ham, 8 feet wide, wearing sun glasses]

Ham: Get away from him, Steven.

Steve: Holy fuck!

Ham: Don't make me call the senator!

Steve: Uh...uh... [gets off table]

Ham: Now bring us a broth...a chicken broth.

Wiley: [Giggles]

Steve: I'm...I'm out of here. [turns and runs]

Wiley: Ham, you're a good friend.

Ham: I'm just a ham, sir. Just a ham.

[Lights fade to black, picture of the first Dream Team appears on a screen behind stage. Isiah Thomas winks, and the picture fades away.]

This is how...

2006-08-15T17:40:00.000-04:00

...Leif:

http://money.howstuffworks.com/bank.htm

WOW!!

Time for a cookout!

2006-08-15T14:20:00.000-04:00

I put barbecue sauce on spaghetti last night. And then woke up this morning without any skin. Like all my cartiledge and whatnot keeps falling onto the floor. This is very, very bad I think.

Also, how do banks work?

Knowledge...

2006-08-11T14:43:00.000-04:00

Apparently, in Switzerland they make sandwiches on large pretzles. Like instead of on bread. Great. Fine. But pretzels got them holes. So what happens when you get to that part of the sandwich? It's no longer a sandwich then. It's just meat. This actually happens in some parts of the world, and here we are worried about terrorism? Wow. I mean, wow.

Wait. Don't go. We have a show. Tomorrow. We are debuting a sketch about pillows that try to buy cigarettes but fall into a glacier. Here's the kicker, though: The whole thing's a commercial for candy. Look out, Prussia!

All you ever need to know:
Live Theatrical Performance!
Saturday, Aug. 12
8 p.m.
PIT Theater, 154 W. 29th St (It has a wall)
8 dollars...or a belt

Cannibal Corpse Lyric of the Day

2006-08-10T16:56:00.000-04:00

[Cannibal Corpse is a metal band that's probably the closest thing to God or a divine creator any of us will ever experience. Album titles include: "Tomb of the Mutilated," "Gallery of Suicide" and "Hammer Smashed Face." In May 1995, Senator Bob Dole publicly stated his belief that the group "violates human decency." Probably because they're so damn rad.]

Today's lyric comes from the song "Covered in Sores"...
Whittling meat from the bones of the dead
Pulverizing pelvic regions with a sledge
The mutilated bodies I leave rotting after I
Have fucked them with my knife

Say, who wants frozen yogurt?

So is anyone else sick of the Hoover administration?

2006-08-08T14:55:00.000-04:00

I mean, Christ! Get us out of this economic depression already. I had to sell my friggin sewing machine for God's sake. I can't WAIT for the '32 election to get this dick outta Washington.

How To Be Happy, Step Three

2006-07-21T16:42:00.000-04:00

How to Be Happy, Step Two

2006-07-20T11:51:00.000-04:00

Come to our reenactment of the infamous Pullman Railroad Strike of 1894. It's happening this Saturday (July 22) at the People's Improv Theater. There won't be any mention of underpaid workers or Eugene Debs or the all-powerful American Railway Union, but we will unveil a great sketch about broccoli lost in outer space (don't worry, the broccoli has a space suit...it won't suffocate or anything). Good.

Show!
Saturday July 22
Peoples Improv Theater -- 154 W. 29th Street
7 PM
$8

Also, if you really, really like aviation-themed comedy, come to Cage Match at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theater TONIGHT at 11. Something silly's gonna happen.

How to Be Happy, Step One

2006-07-19T16:03:00.000-04:00

Paint a picture of a buffalo.

Uh, oh, Get ready for a girl fight...

2006-07-12T11:10:00.000-04:00

Oh that Michelle Branch. She's fiesty.

OH! But you know what else. Cleanest River be all in Sketch Fight at the People's Improv Theater this Saturday. Yeah, we're gonna be punching ladies punching punching bags while eating bon bons.

Come see us take on another band of funny sketch boxers in a battle royale of French proportions. Yeah! French HO HO HO!

Info as follows:
Sketch Fight!
People's Improv Theater
(154 W29th St)
Saturday, July 15th @ 11pm
$8

Hope you can come out and see ladies be punched with things like fishing poles.

Aunt Tessy has a surprise for you

2006-07-05T12:42:00.000-04:00

You are going to vomit.

Get ready...

Poem Written by a Boy Who Just Ate a Tire

2006-06-29T14:16:00.000-04:00

Well, I just ate a tire
A tire, yeah that's right!
I was looking for a sandwich
And was dying for a Sprite

But all we had at home
Was my father's truck
And you sure can't eat an engine
And a fan belt? Yuck Yuck YUCK!

So I settled for a tire
The back left to be precise
I heard you can sautee a tire
And then serve it over rice

Well, I ran into the kitchen,
My father's Michelin in hand!
I cooked for fifteen hours
My platter, it looked so grand!

But the first bite almost killed me
So rubbery, so dry
I dry heaved out the window
Kittens everywhere began to die

"Oh my god, the kittens!"
I screamed out to the world
My yell echoed across America
And was heard by an Inidan girl

Her name was Flying Gecko
She came soaring to me at once
I heard her voice from miles away
She told me to eat some Runts

She must have meant the candy
But I was completely out
I ate my Runts the day before
While watching a boxing bout

I accepted that I was dying
The tire had done me in
But then there was Flying Gecko
Carrying a metal tin

I could barely see her
My vision became real blurry
"Eat these," she said so tenderly
"But hurry, hurry, hurry!"

I took whatever she gave me
And dropped them on my tongue
I tasted something tangy
I laughed and then yelled "YUM!"

In minutes I was feeling better
I knew I'd see another day
"Runts are magic," said Flying Gecko
Then she turned and flew away

So now I stand here mystified
The experience seems unreal
But once again, I'm feeling hungry
This time I'll try a steering wheel

SHEEP WEARING MOTORCYCLE BOYSS!!!!!

2006-06-22T10:02:00.000-04:00

CHILD AT THE DENTIST WEARING SUNGLASSES!!!

2006-06-21T17:15:00.000-04:00

WOW! I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW WILD LIFE IS SOMETIMES!

Cats With Sunglasses!

2006-06-21T17:05:00.000-04:00

GOOGLE IMAGE SEARCH!
DOES NOT YIELD MANY RESULTS!

UH-OH! I THINK MR. WIGGLES-CAT WAS VERY MAD AT THESE GLASSES!

Dogs With Sunglasses!! Dogs With Sunglasses!!!

2006-06-20T15:19:00.000-04:00

WOW! WOWS!

EVERYONE GET A BICYCLE!

NO DAY BUT TODAY!

Poor Sardine. Poor poor Sardine.

2006-06-16T22:08:00.000-04:00

So I decided I want to write a feature film. In said feature film, the story will feature animated characters ala Toy Story or Atlantis and the main characters will be a sardine and brocolli and their troubles of how no one likes them. No one likes to eat sardines or brocolli. Boo HOO!

And so they fucking start going around with guns shooting and killing the other vegetables. And so like King Carrot puts a bounty on their heads. And they're like "We don't fucking care, we just want our propers." And so they plan to shoot the King at the great ball. But the fucking Brocolli meets Miss MSG and falls in love and people start liking him, and like Miss MSG introduce Brocolli to her friends like Samual Steam and Perry Pizza and he has friends then.

SO Sardine kills himself, and then cross dissolve and it ends with a classroom scene of little mixed vegetables being all taught that that's why they have Labor Day.

Happy Father's Day Weekend, fathers.

OMG, NO! Not the Pony Express!

2006-06-09T09:21:00.000-04:00

That's right! Have you heard the news? The Pony Express is back! And it's going to be making its comeback tour in Lowell and Boston this weekend. Oh boy, have you ever seen a horse shit out a prairie dog! Aye!!! Well, catch it! Catch their pony shit performing alongside us this weekend @:

The Lowell Comedy Festival
Saturday, June 10th @8pm
91 Dutton Street

Improv Boston
Sunday, June 11th @ 8pm
1253 Cambridge Street
Cambridge, MA 01239
(617) 576-1253 for Reservations and Info

HO! Check it out if you're in the resepctive areas! Google MAP THAT SHIT! Dont' miss horses and ponies being all like "he's not gonna call you bitch". Two nights only!

Who's up for a hell party?

2006-06-05T09:13:00.000-04:00

I'll bring the cake if you bring the brimstone!

Hell, Mich., heats up for 6-6-6 party
Associated Press
June 4, 2006

Hot outside...hmmm?

2006-06-01T13:01:00.000-04:00

Well, ya's got two cool-down choices. The first: Go find a damn fountain shaped like an animal...not a lizard, though! Little Larry here has dibs on the lizard fountain. Yeah, so go find a ceramic animal spewing chilly aquatic goodness out its fake mouth and stand under it and enjoy your life. Yes, that's approach number one.

Approach number two: Come see us yell and dance and sing and swear and slither and roll and giggle and snort and slap and hit and pull and shoot and stab and slaughter and bloody and kill and kill and kill! Onstage Saturday night at the Peoples Improv Theater. We know you know...but the PIT's on W 29th, and we guarantee it's not as unbearably hot as your apartment is right now (yo, the theater's got a ceiling fan...maybe). We're doing like 50 minutes, and if your body temp doesn't drop at least 65 degrees by the time the show's over, let us know and we'll have Little Larry bring you to the lizard.

So, to recapadapadap:
Saturday, June 3
8:00 pm
Peoples Improv Theater...154 W. 29th St (betw 6 and 7 aves)
Eight dollars...that's so much cheaper than cryogenically freezing yourself!

Hey Ogre Jesper, did you get a chance to fax over the price estimates for our new cabinets?

2006-05-26T11:20:00.000-04:00

NO. I WAS UP ALL NIGHT TRYING TO GET BLACKHAWKS TICKETS. I WAITED OUTSIDE THE UNITED CENTER BOX OFFICE FOR SIX HOURS. I'M TIRED TODAY, BUT I'LL BE THERE WHEN THEY RETIRE BELFOUR'S NUMBER. GO HAWKS!

Hey, Ogre Jeffery, Did you get a chance to read my manuscript over the weekend?

2006-05-23T08:32:00.000-04:00

Yeah, it was good but it could definitely use some punching up. I would get to the third act A LOT quicker.

Did you see 'The daVinci Code' this weekend, Ogre Tom?

2006-05-22T09:25:00.000-04:00

No, I ate four children and put a sword in my head.

Hey Gladys...

2006-05-17T13:06:00.000-04:00

We gots ourselves a show on Friday at the PIT theatre. That's on 29th St., you big lug! And listen to this? We have a special friend performing with us. Spencer King. He's 9 feet tall and is simply adorable. I mean, sure he'll nibble on your head, but he'll do it in a way that'll make you smile. I guarantee it, Gladys, I guarantee it!

So, Gladys, when you get done with that job of yours on Friday (what do you do now...you work as a coat check attendant at the children's museum, right?)...yeah, well, when you get done, come on down the way of the PIT. See some comedic violence. See the 12-foot-tall Spencer King. See the inside of your soul turn to mashed egg!

Here's all you need to know, Gladys:
Friday May 19
8:00 pm, 8 dollars (stop that, you can afford it)
45 minute set
The PIT Theatre...154 W. 29th St. (betw 6 and 7)

And one more time. Spencer King's with us! He's 2 miles tall...ahhh!

Have you seen Jerry?

2006-05-16T15:42:00.000-04:00

Today, I was waiting for the elevator in my work building. And then one of the elevator doors opened and there was this dude like standing on the top of the elevator in the open shaft. He goes, "Jerry?...Jerry?" I remain quiet. He asks me, "Have you seen Jerry?" I replied, "No I haven't seen Jerry." He replied, "Oh." He stood there in the elevator, just standing there.

Probably a minute had passed, no elevator. So we're both standing there...waiting. Me waiting for an elevator. Him waiting for Jerry, whoever Jerry was. He asks me, "So, how are you today?" I'm a little you know...like...weirded but I'm polite, so I say "I'm good...you know. You?" He replied, "Oh yeah. All right." Another awkward pause. 2 minutes since I pressed the elevator button. This is insane.

In my head, I thought I'm being rude; I should make conversation. But since I'm awkward, the phrase to come out of my mouth was: "So do you like tea?" What? What in the world is wrong with me? He replied, with a smile, "I'm more a coffee person. Can't start my day without it." I said, "Oh me too actually." He giggled (yes, giggled) said, "Well then you should have asked me about coffee." Ding! Elevator.

I hate you Jerry.

You remember when we were in college?

2006-05-11T17:00:00.000-04:00

I do.

OH SHIT DARWIN!!

2006-05-10T11:04:00.000-04:00

This baby is molting!

The Cubs win the pennant!!!

I'll let you talk to a receptionist

2006-05-09T13:12:00.000-04:00

The higher-ups at the place I work have distributed "Emergency Procedures" pamphlets. Because we have to prepare for terrorist mischief, see. One section of my pamphlet reads as follows: "If you receive a bomb threat, keep the caller on the line. Do not transfer the call."

Bomb-threat caller-inners hate to be put on hold. They demand the pinnacle in customer service. I like spaghetti. Armitron!

This picture was emailed around my office today

2006-05-05T16:24:00.000-04:00

Really? Is it that good? I don't know.

Quick Quiz!

2006-05-04T18:51:00.001-04:00

One question, two answers, make your submission by noon on Friday or you'll get really, really FAT!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHH!

Okay, here we go:

Who wrote "To Kill a Mockingbird"?

a) The entire nation of China (with one giant quill)
b) Wayne Knight

Clock's tick-tick-tickin yo

Rain sketch

2006-05-02T14:59:00.000-04:00

Lanny: [walking in, holding umbrella] Jesus. The rain out there.

Pham: [sitting, reading a large hard-cover book, doesn't look up] I know. Can't stop it. So don't even try.

Lanny: Yeah, well I wasn't trying to. I was just commenting on...

Pham: Don't try to stop it. Do not!

Lanny: Oooo-kay. Listen, are mom and dad home?

[silence]

Lanny: Pham?

[silence]

Lanny: Pham!

Pham: [throws down book and stands] Mom and dad...WERE WASHED AWAY!!

Lanny: Uh...

Pham: The rain came a-knockin. They opened the front door. And they vanished, vanished like sea gulls when the night winds gust.

Lanny: I, um, really don't believe you.

Pham: Believe this!

[Immediately, a knock is heard]

Pham: Oh mama! I'd let that visitor go unwelcomed.

Lanny: What?

Pham: Don't open the door!

Lanny: Listen, Pham, I'm not sure what's with you. You're not making me afraid, though. I know you're full of shit [opens door].

[600 million gallons of water rush in and toss Lanny into the air. Twenty short men bob up and down in the water. They carry swords and chant, "The rain, the rain, it'll send you packin!" The water and men gush back out the door, taking Lanny with them. Door slams after they exit.]

Pham: When will the rainy season end? WHEN?

And now for something completely laminated

2006-04-30T11:49:00.000-04:00

In high school. I was cool. Case and point, this picture. Halloween '01

Last Show in April Run (tear...sob...gunshot)

2006-04-28T12:54:00.000-04:00

Show up dressed as a furnace and get 10% off admission (maybe)

Can I feed you salmon?

2006-04-27T09:18:00.000-04:00

REALLY??? YES!?#&! ALL RIGHT!@!@(*#&!!!!