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So yesterday after work I went to see The Descent, a horror film. I usually don’t see many horror films because they are pretty crappy. The acting is almost always awful and they are just sort of becoming gore fests, with no emphasis on actually frightening people. However, the reviews from the NY Daily News and New York Times gave me feelings that this one was different and would actually be a scary experience. Going to this movie would be a scary experience, but the Descent would have very little to do with it.

Upon entering the theater, the first thing I noticed (I was with AJ’s Mom – if you don’t know who that is – listen to my CD) was that there was a group of girls ages 11-14, with their mother, who was probably 30.Now most guys think girls are checking them out and are only right at about 15% of the time (my rate is actually 75%, but I don’t know what these other dudes are thinking). But most dudes without criminal records do not want that statistic to include 6th graders. So I ignored what seemed like glances of an adult nature from La Micky Mouse Club and began to watch the movie (this story continues).

As for the movie, the first half was actually pretty scary, even thought the creatures looked like Gollum from Lord of the Rings. However, a horror film is only scary when the victims/heroes are vulnerable and have to escape. it loses something when the victims kick the sh-t out of the creatures and begin impaling their brains with bones and knives. Instead the second half of the film was just about how bloody and nasty the film could get, with no attention paid to actually scaring anyone. Well, that’s not true. Some of the 6 and 7 year olds I saw in the theater (literally 6 or 7) seemed pretty afraid. So was I… at the sight of parents taking their 1st graders to R-rated gore fests! Without going Tipper Gore on you, I really think because there are so many stupid/shi–y parents in the world today, R rated movies should have an age minimum. If you want to take your 11 or 12 year old to an R rated movie fine (still show some prudence), but if you’re like the jackass who took his 3 year old to Texas Chainsaw Massacre in DC and were sitting two rows from me a few years ago, the MPAA needs to help you in parenting. If you don’t know that a woman puling a gun from her vagina and blowing her brains out (opening scene in TCM) is inappropriate for your son or daughter, who cannot read or write or understand the difference between truth and a lie, go to the bathroom by themselves, etc. then you need to be sterilized and go to parenting classes ASAP.

So when the movie ended my lady friend and I left. She had to go to the bathroom because she is a woman and I waited outside. And here comes Mom and her gaggle of horny 6th and 7th graders? I had made a joke to AJ’s Mom earlier about them and she laughed it off. However, as she saw them eyeing me as we left the theater area, and again as we left the shopping center, she said that she was offended and would want to say something to them… if they were in high school. And after all, their mother was scoping me too. My thoughts could be summed up in what I said to my lady friend: “In 5 years, they’d still be illegal.”

Now granted I have been on a much more rigorous fitness routine (no not John Basedow’s Fitness Made Simple), I have a slick new haircut and a vacation tan, so I cannot blame their taste. And like compliments from a gay man which can sometimes boost the self esteem of a sad straight man, I am not one to reject extra attention. But this was too far.

I went to a horror movie and discovered 2 scary things – theaters do not think twice about letting small children watch movies that are wholly inappropriate for them. When little Tim or DaeShawn is asked in his 2nd grade class, “What did you do this Summer?” His response should not be, “I saw some scary ni-ga get his brain ripped out by some mountain climbing bit-h.” Unless he really saw that happen, in which case he will need some counseling and a book deal.

Secondly, with teen pregnancy, disease, low self esteem, depression and a host of other problems plaguing young Latinas (read the NY times editorials from a few weeks ago) it is really, truly frightening to see a group of girls ranging from 6th-8th grades “checking out” a man with Mom joining in on the fun. I believe the saddest part is that the damage is already done with these girls. Their formative years have probably exposed them to a world where 6th graders can shake there ass in front of a grown man and it is to be encouraged. So The Descent was scary, but not because of the film – it was pretty weak. I won’t get too preachy because this is a comedy website, but something needs to start changing socially and culturally and politically if things are going to change in my home county (Da Bronx).

That moral lesson out of the way I have to prep a set for tonight. I am working a show at a 13th birthday party.

if only Mel Gibson were running for the Senate in Connecticut

I am not a Joe Lieberman fan. For one he made Al Gore more boring in 2000, even during a career high in boringness for Al Gore (from 1991-2000 Al Gore was in a freefall from young energetic campaigner to stiff, chubby politician (and Lieberman still made the ticket more boring or am I the only one who remembers his make out session with Dick Cheney during the VP debate?). Two, he looks like Howdy Doody, an old boring one. Third, he ran for president in 2004 and had the audacity at one point to exclaim enthusiastically that he was in a “three way dead heat for third place” in a primary. And lastly, he coined the term Joe-Mentum, which is a combination of Joe and Momentum. Much like a moral victory, Joe-Mentum requires an actual loss.

But Lieberman’s biggest problem has been his support of the War in Iraq. He has been like Hyman Roth to The Bush family’s Corleones (as I said in my routine in April and Stephen Colbert referenced last week [coincidence?] George W. is Fredo. Now that he is backtracking on his support for the Bush family I expect a Joe Lieberman shooting in a Florida airport sometime before the November election. But if George W. was actually Michael I could see Condoleezza Hagen saying to him, “You’ve won. Do you have to kill everyone?” And George Corleone would reply, “Not everyone. Just my enemies. And by enemies I mean Muslims and Jews.”

But my problem in Connecticut is that the race is exciting, but it could be more exciting. Ned Lamont is a rich guy who is anti-war. Good enough for me to root for him over Joe, but why couldn’t Mel Gibson have been a Greenwich resident and run for Senate. That would be awesome. Rather than blame the war on Bush, Mel would probably blame Joe for it. At which point Joe would give up saying “RIGGS, I’m getting too old for this sh-t.”

But I really don’t care about Connecticut. I care about the Nation and Al Gore needs to run for president in 2008. He is an experienced political animal, but far enough removed that he has been reminded of what he really cares about. And he won’t be burdened by Joe-Mentum.

It is fitting that I would be in my office on my last day of vacation, using this time to prep for my first day of work. That is what life sometimes comes to – you are just happy to come into your office not wearing a suit, unaware that the Man wins by me just showing up on your vacation.

But over vacation I have pondered several things. Here’s a sampling:

1) MEL GIBSON IS A GENIUS. By allegedly making ant-semitic comments, mel has put Hollywood in an awkward position. Agent Ari Emmanuel (the basis for Entourage’s Ari Gold) has called for a boycott of Mel’s new film Apocalypto. Now Apocolypto looks like a bag of crap (not Braveheart or Passion quality). But now, if it makes no money, it can be attributed to a boycott ordered by a jewish agent. Result: instead of saying Mel’s new movie sucks and no one saw it, Mel can say, “It would have made money, but Ari’s boycott ruined it. I guess Jews really do run Hollywood.” And if the boycott doesn’t work – potential cash money. Brilliant work Mr. Gibson.

2) YANKEES are good again. And like our sciene and engineering jobs, the Yanks have relied heavily on outsourcing their pitching to Asians. Thank you Chien-Ming Wang. And he is doing it at a fraction of the price of that lazy American Randy Johnson.

3) Speaking of outsourcing, according to Thomas Friedman’s THE WORLD IS FLAT, America is f–ked (at least by page 300). That has been my vacation reading (that and Flags of Our Fathers – a book about WWII).

4) The LA IMPROV has expressed interest in potentially booking me in the “near future” (see 2009) based on my CD Racial Chameleon. It may have to do with the fact that it just went platinum in Congo (40 copies sold). I’d tell you to go buy it, but if you are reading this you either have already or you’re a cheap f–k. Maybe a page out of Mel Gibson’s book could improve publicity for my CD or explain why it is not selling. Comedy, after all, is my Passion.

so I am not writing much.

Well, week 2 of my vacation is going nicely (for all those who asked). I am not doing anything other than getting to the gym and working on some new writing at open mics. But the main reason why it is going well is because it is 100 degrees and I do not have to wear a suit for another week.

Ok – time to go to the pool. Bye

Michael Mann can put this one next to Ali

Last night I went to see Miami Vice. Not good. Michael Mann, an awesome writer/director botched this one. My grade for this film is a C, but considering the weight it bore in my expectations trying to save an awful summer of movies, it really gets a D for not even trying. Instead it just buried this summer deeper.

Problem 1 – Colin Farell looks like a cheesy pron star. he may be a ladies’ man, but as a Miami cop, why does he look like a member of the Boogie Nights cast? Did he say to the director, “I know my character is cool, but you know what would be super cool? A Village People mustache, or a Wild Bill Hickcock mustache – oh hell, let’s just grow something in between.” And his accent is some sort of Texas-type twang, mixed with 500 cigarettes a day. But he did try and where he tried to act well, the dialogue failed him. “Do you think I am in too deep that I don’t know which way is up?” (This was after approximately one week on an undercover operation – real deep under cover buddy).

Problem 2 – Jaime Foxx. Wanda on In Living Color – great. Ray Charles – great. Everything else you do – excrement. If not for Colin Farrel’s mustache, I think Foxx gave the worst performance in the film.

Probelm 3 – DC filmgoers who were laughing throughout at the film (rightfully so), but then cheering wildly at the “badass” stuff that happens later in the movie, as if they hadn’t been jerked around for 90 minutes.

Problem 4 – bad guy bullets. They seem to avoid every good guy they way the guy in Pulp Fiction misses John Travolta and Sam Jackson. Miracle? No, just shitty movie making. For shame Mr. Mann.

The film is nonsense and unless Talladega Nights is the greatest film ever, this is officially the worst summer of movies in my life as a movie watcher.

Police solve the case of my stolen Ipod!

Well, my hats off to the 17th Precinct. After minutes of investigation they closed my case because they had “nothing to go on.”

I couldn’t agree more. They only arrested a guy matching the Ipod thief’s general description within 2 hours at the same location where my stuff was stolen. I mean, even Columbo couldn’t put that one together. But he didn’t have any stuff on him, so he couldn’t have possibly put the stuff elsewhere or gotten rid of it. But more importantly why find out? We only had names and phone numbers of the women who witnessed it, but why ask them?

I guess now begins the George W. Bush portion of my life, so friends and strangers beware. Without facts and before any theft has actually occurred I will be taking preemptive force against anyone whom I suspect of thinking about possibly stealing my stuff. I will fight the thieves out there, so I don’t have to argue with my Mom at home.

(that said my life is not so bad, but…)

So if my life were made into a 24 episode – yesterday would have been the day (if 24 episodes require lots of anger, sweat, disappointment, crime and thoughts of homicide).

But it started out well (look for phenomenal irony later). I found out my CD was now available on itunes – a personal goal of mine. All was good and my friend in Argentina e-mailed me to say he was downloading it, becoming the first person on record to have Racial Chameleon on itunes. Then the s–t began getting splattered all over numerous fans.

3:30 p.m. I go to the A train at 207th street on my way to Fulton to get the J train to Gates Avenue for a baby party for a friend of mine from college (roughly a 75 minute trip). So 2 hours and 25 minutes later (note to subway travelers – Broadway-Nassau is Fulton Street undercover. if you don’t know this fact you end up in a part of Brooklyn that you don’t want) I end up in the middle of hurricane Katrina pt 2. As the rains subsided, my friend picked me up and drove me to his house.

6:10 p.m. I sit in my friend’s house waiting for party to begin. Many friends from college showed up and we talked. Unfortunately I had an 8 p.m. show to get to. That said I stayed until 8 p.m. to be hospitable, but I could not have dinner because it was just about to be served. But comedy called.

8:10 p.m. I arrive at the J-train and hopped on.

8:45 – I get off the J train to get the A train to 42nd Street.

8:55 p.m. The A train is not working. I know must take the 2 train.

9:03 p.m. 2 train arrives.

9:27 p.m. I arrive at comedy venue.

9:27:30 p.m. I am told that comedy show is cancelled due to some no-show comics and no-show audience.

9:45 p.m. I call my friend to see if he wants to get some dinner and beers to discuss the worst day of comedy. He says yes.

9:47-10:14 p.m. I walk from 42nd and 8th to 34th and 3rd contemplating why I didn’t just sleep until Sunday listening to Green Day’s “Boulevard of broken Dreams” on my Ipod repeatedly for dramatic effect.

10:15 p.m. I sit down at Joshua Tree and wait for my friend.

10:25 p.m. My friend arrives. We have beers and I have a burger. We played a game where we tried to predict what 80s song was next. I was starting to forget that I had a bad day.

10:45 p.m. A bachelorette party arrives and sits in 2 tables right next to my table.

11:25 p.m. I ask for the bill because my friend and I want to stand up and drink near the bar (approximately 15 feet from our table).

11:30 p.m. We are standing doing a shot and drinking some Bud.

12:15 a.m. I go back to the table and see my bag missing.

12:25 a.m. I discover my bag under the table, opened and violated like a victims of a sex crime. A book, a few of my cds are strewn about. Missing from my bag are: my 40GB ipod (IRONY), my Tungsten Palm Pilot and 4 of my CDs. I then proclaim that I will f–king kill someone.

12:30 a.m. bachelorette party members inform me that they saw a “fat guy in a black polo shirt” looking through their purses. Apparently they gave him bitchy sneers, but notified no one in the bar. They just let him move on to other bags – namely mine.

12:35 a.m. – I ask the bouncer outside if he saw a really fat guy with a black shirt leave and if not could he keep an eye out. His answer was an apathetic, “No, it’s really busy here.” Thanks for the help.

12:40 a.m. I call the police.

12:50 a.m. person standing near us in the bar tells me and my friend that he saw a guy near my bag. When I ask him to wait for the police with me to give a description his memory gets fuzzy when he realizes his night might involve helping someone.

1:09 a.m. still no police. We leave.

1:40 a.m. police call me to see if I still need assistance.

2:30 a.m. I decided to go to the police station house. I inform them of several things:

1) The penal Law codes for criminal impersonation (the secret’s out – I am an ADA)

2) That they could track down witnesses easily because the negligent Samaritans in the bachelorette party were the only ones to see the event and could describe fat guy in black shirt.

3) Cops tell me that a fat guy in a black polo shirt has been arrested at Joshua Tree for criminal impersonation (hence my legal knowledge), but that he had nothing on him (ipod, cds or palm) so it probably wasn’t him. Hmmmm, maybe if you called the chicks and asked them if he is the guy (in some discrete constitutional way) we could figure out if this is the guy that stole my sh-t. But I am probably just crazy.

I arrive home at 3:30 a.m. I go to sleep realizing that seeing psychologists as a kid can make you sublimate anger into telling jokes, but a fat guy stealing your shit, and legions of apathetic, Murray Hill douche bags can really bring that anger to the surface. However, it is probably a good thing that I did not find that fat sh-thead because it would have been like paraphrasing Elrond in Return of the King:

“Put aside the comedian and become the Psycho you were born to be.”

At last count the bouncer, the 12 bachelorettes, the guy who couldn’t be bothered and the officers all seemed to not care too much. (Cue: “Ain’t that America” by John Melloncamp blaring in the background). I want to say thank you to all of you for contributing to my version of 24.

That said, I wonder if the guy likes my CD. I mean if there is a silver lining he did steal 4 copies so he must have been very interested.

Streaks almost always come to an end. Cal Ripken Jr. could not play forever, Joe DiMaggio could not hit in 57 straight games and Condoleezza Rice’s teeth could not chuck more wood than a woodchuck, although they looked like they could for a while. Well an unnoticed, but significant streak was broken as well.

On Wednesday July 19, 2006 I failed to meet my person requirement for a bringer show. Perhaps by openly admitting that I do bringers unveils my amateur status and if you are thinking that, f–k off. That’s not the point. In approximately 25 bringers I have never brought under the requirement, ranging from 6 to 20 people. Last night I got 4. That would be like Joe DiMaggio not only failing to get a hit, but also committing 2 errors and finding Yogi Berra banging Marilyn Monroe – a bad showing indeed (but thank you to the 4 that did show).

So as is normal and fair I went up towards the end of the show and had a reduced spot (5 minutes instead of 10). That was ok, but the problem was, they guy who went up before me told approximately 7 minutes of set up, without one punch line. However, he was wearing a Richard Pryor t-shirt so when I took the stage I retorted, “Man, the guy on that guy’s t-shirt was hilarious. Give it up.” I think 4 people got it.

So I did my abbreviated set, which felt good because a crowd that had gone Teri Schaivo (or Lazarus as I referred to them because I like Bible) awoke to give me some nice chuckles. In fact one guy who was laughing so hard at my jokes that I promised him a free CD. And I delivered.

After the show I decided that crack dealers are on to something. Give out the stuff for free and then their friends will follow. Soon everyone will be toothless. But by then i will be rich off of CD proceeds. Well, long story short I gave out approx 10 or 12 free CDs last night to various patrons (the password for a free CD last night was “Nice job.”). I hope they enjoy them. A lot of hard work into them.

My next bringer is August 22 at Gotham. That will be a warm up for the Boston Comedy Festival. Let’s see if I can get people to that show, or at least get people to steal car radios to pay for my CD.

With the CD sales at rough 4-5 times that of free giveaways I have been trying to think of new ways to market my brand of humor. Here are some ideas:

1) Start a show on Public Access called Tallgasm, where 4 tall comics tour open mics and sign the breasts of female comedy viewers. I just need 3 more tall comics.

2) Go old school on comedy clubs. At 6’7″, 268 lbs. I can basically be my own mob enforcer. Speaking in the 3rd person I can probably intimidate and confuse comedy club owners into putting me on stage.

3) Write a joke about how hard it is to be famous and let it be a self-fulfilling prophecy, sort of like Kid Rock’s “Only God Knows Why,” which he wrote about how hard celebrity was… before his debut album was released. Genius.

4) Leave my CD inside the car of a celebrity like the rapper on Entourage.

5) Commit a crime (or get shot 9 times).

If anyone has any suggestions or wants to join Tallgasm – please let me know. In the meantime please enjoy the clips on my site and start counting to 10 for August 22nd.

“Bringers” bring the tension

Well, I sit here at my desk on my lunch hour preparing for a busy Thursday, but also a busy Wednesday evening. That is because as I stand now (to my knowledge) I am 2-4 people short for a bringer at Gotham Comedy Club.

For those of you that don’t know, a “bringer” is a show that allows amateur and semi-pro comics to strut their stuff in front of large audiences and perform along seasoned professionals. The idea is that you get seen by club people and make a good tape at a name club (at which point you mail it out to other clubs and said tape ends up holding up books or being reused for celebrity sex tapes).

[On a related side note I mailed a club my CD in California and they replied that they found some sharp material on my CD/DVD. Unless I got a bonus, I am pretty sure my CD has no DVD qualities. At least form letters in business and work-life don’t make your dreams feel obsolete as well.]

I have done these bringers at many clubs in NYC and tonight is at Gotham. I remember a few years ago I reeled in 16 people for one bringer and within 2 weeks rattled of 20 more. My comedy was exciting and intriguing, and my friends could not see flaws in my comedy. They were like a new girlfriend – everything I said was right and charming. But then as the relationship lengthened bringers seemed the only way to get on the big stages in the city, friends began to grow restless. Suddenly comparing my looks to the Rock and Adam Sandler did not appear funny; it appeared annoying. “You always do that joke and I hate it.” or “You never tell the jokes I want to hear.”

So I began writing at a much more rapid pace to give my friends and fan something to laugh at each time they saw me. But then the clubs were not as impressed because some of the newer stuff was a little rougher. And then you find out that your friends, who are not made of money, begin to realize that supporting comedy careers is an expensive line of work. So as a young comic one is caught in a tough spot.

The big questions are what to do and how to do it. The goal is simple – working comic. But sometimes it seems like an unreachable goal. Like right now – as I struggle to get the 10 people required for the show. All I can promise those that do show up a good ten minutes.

Maybe this is a more somber, reflective blog because I have reached a point in comedy where I want to make a shift in my career trajectory. Or maybe because I have been listening to Johnny Cash’s rendition of NIN’s “Hurt” on repeat. Either way, comedy is fun on stage. That has been true from day 1 and will be true tonight. But the stress that goes with it for the other 23:50 a day sucks.

That said, I can’t wait for tonight’s show.

Well, I feel like it has been a little while since I discussed movies in depth, so here is my Summer mid-term report card for movies:

(note: I have not yet seen Pirates of the Caribbean)

The best movie of the summer has been Cars. Larry the Cable Guy is very funny (talk about being cast against type). Another example of Pixar doing its thing. Note on this film however, if you go see it by yourself and you are a grown ass man, families will look at you hesitantly for a minute before enjoying the family humor.

Click with Adam Sandler – possibly the worst Adam Sandler comedy. Like Bruce Almighty with many fewer laughs. And can Christopher Walken stop playing Christopher Walken? His impression of himself is starting to border on Woody Allen. That said, as Adam Sandler gets older he tends to get better looking, i.e. looking more like yours truly.

Superman – eh. Decent film, but too long. normally when I see, what appears to be a cool movie, is 2 1/2 hours I get excited because I enjoy action/adventure epics. In the case of this film – awful overkill. Great Spider Man 3 preview however. Alternate title for Superman: Deadbeat Dad That Can Fly.

An Inconvenient Truth – Scariest Movie Ever (see blog archive)

Nacho Libre – Jack Black is hysterical, but this movie is no School of Rock. But what is.

Poseidon – induces suicidal thoughts (blog archive)

X-Men 3 – worst X Men, but one of the better films in this awful summer

So – as the title suggests only 2 movies can save the summer. And they are not Little Man and the Ant Bully. Nor is M Night Shamalamadingdong’s new film (for the record he makes cool movies, but Unbreakable is the only one I thought was truly awesome and that includes The Sixth Sense.

No, the two films are Miami Vice and Talladega Nights. Miami Vice is simple – Michael Mann. I do not like Colin Farrell and Jaime Foxx (although Ray and In Living Color are quality works). But Miachel Mann, with the exception of Ali is great. Heat, The Insider, The Last of the Mohicans, Collateral. This movie needs to be great because nothing else this summer with real people has been.

The second movie is Will Ferrell’s Talladega Nights. Mocking NASCAR is always welcome. And I have the feeling that it will not require repeated viewings, like Anchorman, to appreciate it. It looks like instant hilarity. If either of these films is less than an A, this will be the worst summer of films in my life.

However, tv has been alright thanks to Deadwood. If anyone saw this week’s episode a gruesome scene on par with Captain Aceveda’s humbling experience on Season 3 of The Shield occurred. I am still having nightmares of Dan Doherty.

Tonight I am hosting at the NY Comedy Club at 8:30. (24th and 2nd). Should be fun times.