So I Got Lost Watching This Season Finale ...

In the interest of beating out tens of thousands of avid bloggers, I am writing a review on the season 4 finale of Lost. Take that, TiVoers! Please note I know less than nothing about the show, everything I know about the plot I got from Wikipedia. Ooh, a hyperlink! Now on with the review.

First off, tonight's finale was in three parts! Which means there was definitely a point were I kind of tuned out and started playing Free Cell. But the plot flowed seamlessly and the story was pretty well-told. To be fair, there were points where the "tension" felt so artificial - see the casket MacGuffin (why did it take 7 minutes to resolve that scene?) - but long-time viewers will be rewarded to find that the writers address at least 1/4 of mystery.

The show definitely loses points on having weird machinery which does random shit. I mean seriously, who uses a "liquid nitrogen tank" to cool down a bomb? Um, temperature bombs? - yeah, not so realistic. And the fact that the island can moved by an ice steering wheel??? Granted, I don't know that much about the show, but I definitely can't be expected to dismiss major logic flaws. There were points where the plot got so paint by numbers. Still, it was a damn good paint job.

Overall, I was entertained. There were kick-ass fight scenes and big explosions and moments that actually sucker-punched me. And Sun's storyline was actually worth following (okay, I had watched a couple episodes of Lost here or there, I had found Sun so boring that I'd have to stop and watch Family Guy reruns, so seeing what happens to her both in the present and the future made me really want to find out who she is and what her plan is). And the finale's conclusion contains an impressive revelation that can really spin-off into some interesting stories. It looks like the writers actually have a long-term plan. I may try to actively catch old episodes of this show.

Well, that probably means nothing and I may have ruined some shit for people, but really, if you were a borderline Lost fan, you'd get a lot out of this storyline. So what do I rate this? I didn't realize I needed a rating scale. 5 out of 7 Cs.

Maybe another stream-of-consciousness review soon...

Sometimes, Facebook Can Brighten My Day

I'm not a big fan of Facebook anymore. I'm sick of all the applications and add-ons. No I don't want to be a pirate or a ninja or a vampire ninja who feeds on zombie pirates and plays Scrabble. I don't want to poke you, punch you, pressure point you.

But, I did find one of the funnier and most quintessential Facebook groups to join. F.I.N.A.L.S. - Fuck, I Never Actually Learned Shit. Story of my college...story of my college...

[NOTE: Yes, I plan on writing a longer (and theoretically more humorous) essay on Facebook, but that is tabled for another time]

APOLLO??!

So, I just finished watching SNL, and I'm waiting for the cheesy start-up music of Apollo to begin so I can change the channel, only to find that there was no music. "It's Showtime At The Apollo" is officially gone. And in its place is some talking head show about the Tribeca Film Festival. I am in shock. I can't believe this.

Now, I kind of want to start a campaign to get it back. Sure the hosting was pretty lousy and some of the Amateur Acts - yeesh, you'd think these guys would have actually listened to their own act once or twice before they decided to embarrass themselves on stage. Too harsh? - whatever. But there were some good break dancers and some nice musical acts. And yeah, it was a show with black people in it. Even if I didn't watch it, I like the idea of it being on the air.

I miss seeing black people on television. So many of the shows on in the past couple of years are tired or insulting poor portrayals of black people. And I will sell my kidneys before I sit through an episode of Tyler Perry's sitcom or Flavor Flav's new show. Television is full of reality bullshit with vapid orange people spending 2 minutes staring blankly into the camera with their mouths slightly open. It's pathetic.

I don't know man. They should bring Apollo back on the air. Yeah, I'm starting a petition. Bring Apollo back to NBC! Bring in better acts. Let me host the thing. Ha, just kidding, or am I? But seriously, we need to bring it back. Blog if you love Apollo. Dude, this Tribeca show is bullshit. I'm going to Channel 11.

What?! Chapelle Show airs on the CW??!! Okay, I, uh, wow. I don't even know what the hell is going on with Standards and Practices anymore.

Yes I Can Act In Online Videos!

Sometimes, people ask me if I do any acting. Here's your chance to find out in this week's edition of Honkies I Tolerate:

Funny Or Die: What's Up With Canadians?

Thanks to Todd Montesi!

EDIT: In case you didn't know, I'm the only guy in the short with a suit on. I play a black field reporter and believe me, that's all you need to know.

Picaresque: A Blog In Vignettes

I've lived in New York City for too long. While I was on the subway, a lady fell on the floor and screamed "Ow my leg!" And instead of asking "Are you okay?" I stared at her and thought "She'd better not pull this 'I'm injured' shit to cause a train delay. I have to get home and watch a repeat of The Riches on FX tonight."

...

My standards for what I deem a "good comedy performance" have plummeted. At first I thought I did a great set if the audience laughed. Then it became, I've done a good show if 50% of the audience laughed. Now it's become, I've done a good set if 50% of the audience understands English. Apparently, you don't need to laugh now to make me happy. You just have to look at me and nod. I need to do comedy in front of puppies.

...

I took an exercise dump today. It was one of those dumps where even your face muscles get in on the action. I think I lost 2 pounds expelling the log and another 3 from sweat and determination.

Anatomy Of A Bad Set

NOTE: Jokes have been omitted or edited to protect the guilty.

AT THE CLUB........

CC THOUGHTS: Okay the last was really funny. I just have to be as funny as him. Not to worry. I've got my list memorized and everything and this is going to be AWESOME!!!!!11111one

HOST: And now for the next guy coming to the stage! He's played clubs and colleges all over New York City. He's the wonderful and talented CC!!!

AUDIENCE HALF-CLAPS, HALF-GLANCES DOWN AT THEIR WATCHES

CC THOUGHTS: Alright, it's a cold crowd, but that's okay!

CC: How's everyone doing tonight?! Don't worry, we have 18 other comics coming up after me...

AUDIENCE: 6 laughs

CC THOUGHTS: Okay, not getting a positive vibe but I'll bring the love!

CC: [OPENER 1]

AUDIENCE: 5 disparate laughs

CC THOUGHTS: Okay it's just 3 1/2 more minutes

CC: Alright that's cool. I'll wow you with this one. [JOKE 2 - Filler]

AUDIENCE: Two chuckles, one cough

CC: Well I'm glad I didn't quit my day job, right?

LONE HECKLER: We already heard day job jokes!

CC: Well then what do you to hear? That my life is happy? Because I can't say that a high point is staring into a crowd of 20 disinterested white people. I feel like I'm on an auction block here.

AUDIENCE: Dead silence.

CC THOUGHTS: Oh boy, that set race relations back. MLK would be proud.

CC: Whew! I guess that should have been saved for therapy, right?

AUDIENCE: Two people cross their arms and shake their heads.

CC: Okay, well, uh, [JOKE 3].

AUDIENCE: Silence.

[WARNING LIGHT SHINES]

CC THOUGHTS: Okay, well it's almost over. I still have my drink at the table. I can just down it and leave. Oh right, I got to think of a closing joke. Let's see, joke, joke, joke, joke. Alright here's a good, nah too racist. Or maybe, no too neighborhood specific. Oh shit I've bene rambling about Egg McMuffins for 40 seconds, do something, get off the stage. Abort! Just abort!

CC: Well, this has been...us staring at each other for 5 minutes. Thank you

AUDIENCE: [Begrudging claps]

HOST: Let's hear it again for CC. [Silence]. Alright...

LATER ON IN THE EVENING.........

AUDIENCE's FAVORITE COMIC (TM): Hey good job.

CC: Well thanks, I think you did a much better job.

AFC (TM): Well, it's a crowd thing.

FAN: (To AFC) Oh my God! You were so wonderful. My friends and I were dying! Where do you perform? I can't wait to see you again. (turns to CC) Oh hey. (back to AFC) So anyway, oh my God, you were totally awesome! What's your phone number? Do you have a MySpace?! Let's be i-pals.

CC: I have to go. I'll see you around.

CONCLUSION: Go home and ponder ways to kill yourself which won't leave you disfigured and allow you to have an open casket funeral.

Sometimes, People Need Too Much Attention

So apparently, at Yale, this art student Aliza Shvarts decided for her senior project that it would be a great idea to get herself pregnant multiple times in the span of 9 months, abort her babies, film the process and save the bloody sheets - and call that art. Read more here:

http://jezebel.com/380897/yale-senior-undergoes-multiple-self+induced-miscarriages-in-the-name-of-art

...Except, now it's apparently a hoax. Again, lea aqui!

http://gawker.com/381384/abortion-performance-art-actually-media-exploitatio

I have said it multiple times, but I will say it again: This is the exact reason why minorities hate white people. First of all, if you go to the first link, take a look at what this chick looks like. A hipster mess - leopard skirt, boots, tights...what the hell is she doing - going on safari in Connecticut? Oooh and she's wearing a hoodie, because that shows how much she hates being conventional. Yes, she chose substance over style. Actually she chose substance over personality.

Look little girl, why don't you get a real job, stop sponging off mommy and daddy, and stop giving handjobs to random frat guys so you can feel like you're worth something? Filming an abortion to make a statement about art and the human body is ...well retarded. And you give pro-lifers more ammunition so they can continue to make wrong-headed arguments like "See, women can't be trusted to make their own decisions. Having the right to abortion leads to women making it into art or a spa day."

And if it's a hoax, that makes it 2,000,000 times worse. Is her art that shitty that she need a desperates cry for attention like this? I bet she just smokes a lot of pot in her room and uses her sketchbook as a surface for her to cut her cocaine on as she sits around watching VH1 and thinking "God I'm so fucking smart and privileged, I don't even have to be responsible!"

Puh-leeze, I can see her future. She'll move to New York and live in a loft with three like-minded faux-artist types. Maybe she'll work at a bar twice a week but she won't hold down a job for longer than a month and she'll constantly ask her parents to put money in her account and buy groceries from Costco for her. After 4 years of living in abject poverty, she'll listen to her parents, go to law school, get married, move to Westchester and have 3 kids. In the end she'll talk about the abortion as "that silly project" and use it as an excuse to say she was a "wild child." When in reality, she's a completely unoriginal, unlikeable, sellout poser with a bad haircut.

Conclusion: this girl is pathetic. I've already wasted too much blog space hating her.

Personal Goal

If you were to ask me what I think is the best type of performance, I can honestly tell you it is a one-person show. It is such an amazing memoir format. I think I'd like to do that, just sit down and tell a thirty-minute story of my life. Maybe I can call it "Job Interview." It'll reflect the quarter-life crisis situation well. I want to be able tell a story in a minimalist and serious fashion. Maybe, at the end of the day, I don't want to strictly tell jokes. I want to tell jokes in anecdotes. For me, comedy is about learning how to tell a really funny story. If I am at the point where I can confidently do that, I will feel like I have succeeded at comedy and I can quit there.

We'll see...

And Now For Something Not-So-Completely Different

I haven't really been using this blog to the best of my ability. I've spent a lot of time chilling on the negative side of the coin and now it's time for me to turn stuff around. And, moreover, I'm going to start a long-term project, soemthing Im actually interested in.

I've made it no secret that I want to write for Marvel Comics (thoguh I'd totally go to DC Comics if they eve rgave me a chance). Howver, my secret goal is to be a Talking Head on "Best Week Ever" or "The Soup" or "E!: Just Another Infotainment Show." So I'm adding a new blog segment where I discuss/review comics.

The title: "Best Ink Ever" (clever, right? Right? Bazing!)

See, the premise is that once a week I'm going to go to a store, read a couple of comics, then go home and write about it (okay, it's not a complicated procedure, but this isn't a science project, so whateva...) Tune in for this week's edition. It'll be...well something.

PS: I got a spam comment. Aww, I feel all marginally internet popular and sheeit. I may ride the gravy train to stardom the likes of Tay Zonday and Sneezing Panda (so cute!).

The Color Barrier

It's been a month between posts and I haven’t been doing a lot of comedy. I’m at that point in my life where I’m just tired and disillusioned. It’s my not-so-metaphorical fall from grace. And it’s not like I can’t write anymore as much as it is that I don’t want to write anymore.

Here’s a tangent: I’m sick of “comedians.” I’m sick of “the comedy scene”: this racist institution that’s set up so that under-endowed white guys who used to get spit on in high school can feel better by picking on minorities and overusing the word “cunt” and dropping N-bombs like there’s no tomorrow. I’m tired of having to work 2 jobs, 6 days a week so I can get to an open mic and be 27th on a list of scruffy, dirty, asshole mouth-breathers who can’t even string together a decent punchline, make lousy in-jokes with their friends and leave without supporting the show.

Obviously this is based on a recent incident. I went to a mic where this shit happened. As usual it was a parade of dumb white guys (DWGs) with retarded sexual conquest jokes. Which I half-slept through. Of course most of the DWGs have a show (probably in the back of chicken shack, but I digress) and they all leave. I do my set in front of 5 people – whatever. And the next DWG to come feels the need to include me, since I’m the only black guy in the room, by referring to “black people cigarettes” as N*****-Ports. After which, I walked out. And the worst part, as I left, these comics have no idea of why I’m offended.

So why am I so offended? It’s because I hear this shit EVERY SINGLE TIME I go to an open mic. Every time I walk into the cesspool of shit and silence that is a comedy open mic, I am instantly reminded of the fact that I’m black. Because most of these comedians suck, they look for a point of difference and far too often, that becomes, “Oh a black guy! He must be from Kenya. Stop stealing, black guy. Actually you don’t look all that black. Are you Cosby black? Ha ha ha.” And naturally, white comics think I love it. Because clearly since I’m a comedian and a New Yorker who works in corporate America, I’ve never heard a terrible racist joke before.

DWGs, how would you feel if you went into work everyday and got slapped in the face, and then was told that this is part of what helps you grow as a person? Actually some of you sick fucks might get off on it, but I don’t.

I’m sick of it. I’ve been called a “jungle bunny” and “Jamal” on-stage and it’s not funny. I’ve heard horrendous jokes punctuated by the use of an n- word and my jaw drops. So I’m just walking out on bullshit mics now. It’s not worth it anymore.

Onomatopoeia As Representation...

This piece is entitled

Onomatopoeia As Representation Of The Frustrating Limitations Of Early Adulthood Employment Opportunities And The Depressing Nature Of Menial Entry-Level Duties:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGG
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you.

Site Comic Book Fans Should Check Out

I was going to write a super-pessimistic post about how life sucks and comedy sucks, but instead I'm entering positive-attitude land.

If you are a fan of Marvel Comics and wanted to know who was that guy with the funky golden armor and red codpiece from Captain America #268 1/2, check out Marvel Universe Appendix. I have never seen such dedication to minutiae of details - and it's totally awesome! If you only know Cyclops or Iron Man . But if you want to know about the Brass Bishop (who?) Kulan Gath (huh?) or Chtylok (kraw!), you should peruse the place.

Whatever, let me have my nerd-gasm. But support them, they're very nice!

Dear Roommate, I'm Weird

Okay, so I was sitting in my room, watching Family Guy with no pants on and I heard the door open in the hallway. And then I hear footsteps come towards my door. And I get all freaked out so I yell "Ah! I'm not wearing pants." And my roommate says "I wasn't even going into your room." Now I think she thinks I'm masturbating. Which is gross! Dude, a man needs to have the right to not wear pants and watch television without being paranoid. Bachelors who live in studios are lucky. Dude, they could just live however they want. Fucking not shower for a couple days.

That's just sad that that's my dream life. Sitting on a couch with no pants eating quesadillas and a bowl of cereal and a bowl of carrots and raisins. I'm eating a crazy ridiculous meal. It's like "How many items from the food pyramid can I cram into one dinner?"

Anyway, dear roomie, I like tighty whities and I will continue to wear them, behind closed doors. But no penis touching.

What? That Old Thing?!

Oh right, it’s Last Comic Standing today. Yesterday I had to make the choice of whether I should go to an interesting job, or miss a whole day’s pay to stand outside in the elements in a crazy outfit so that I can be ripped apart for 2 minutes by inordinately bitchy judges – assuming I even get seen.

WTFever. I'm so over that.

The whole LCS thing is such a crock. I understand the idea behind it, but it’s so dishonestly done. I know there are comics who are great and don’t get their due and it’s great to give them a showcase. I wish the producers would market it as “Hey these are awesome people doing great things you’ve never heard of. Check them out!” Instead, it’s all “Holy mackerel, can you believe that these are average Joes with all this talent???!!!!!111one Holy crap, we discovered these gems!” No bigwigs, you didn’t discover them. They’ve been around for YEARS. There are so many people on the show who’ve had television and movie deals, headline across the country and make more in a night than I do in 6 months. At best, the people who appear in the shows promos (i.e. that 2 minute teaser) are being plucked out of (relative) obscurity, but the people who make it to the finals…they really don’t need a handout. Honestly, that like having a Best Superhero contest and introducing Batman as someone who “just appeared on the scene and seems to be doing some cool things.” Puh-leeze. Now if Tigra or Stingray were on that show, grrrrrr (and sensible – I bet none of you even know who either of them are).

I wish everyone who waited in line the best of luck. As for me, I’m going to sit in a cubicle, blog and bask in the warmth of job security.

College Procrastination

I don't think I ever posted this article. This is from the days when I was a serious college journalist. Some of you guys may be familiar with my Worst Week Ever column (where I basically got an 800 word column to discuss whatever I was feeling miffed about). Man, those were the days, when peopel used to listen to my opinions. Those were also the days when I produced comedy shows with colleagues who actually respected each other and the audience was always 50+. This article is set in a mythical place called Wesleyan in a faraway land called Connecticut, where the trees stay green and the argyles are always dry cleaned.

Without Further Ado: College Procrastination Redux...

Worst Week Ever 2: If I Only Had More Time...

For this column I am writing on-site from the computer lab. To either side of me are students with frazzled hair, twitchy from downing Red Bulls and Starbuck's double shot espressos, trying desperately to finish their papers. The day is a Sunday, the time is 11:57 p.m. and I have both this column to write and a paper to finish. I have joined the rank of these sleep-deprived procrastinators and, needless to say, I am not pleased.

Why do we do this to ourselves, frittering away our free time, only to save the heavy work until the last minute? Now I know what you're thinking: "Procrastinators are just lazy; they're not having the worst week ever." Tut tut, disbelievers. Allow me to flowchart the course of a procrastinator's week so you can understand how we end up so screwed.

Monday: The teacher assigns the essay. She tells you that the essay is due next Monday - no excuses for lateness. She warns, "The questions may seem easy, but they require thought and a close reading of the text." You make a point of highlighting the assignment, adding a note that says "Remember to go home and start the paper. You'll regret it when Sunday rolls around and the paper isn't started." As soon as class is over, go home and take a nap. Mutter "I have all week to get a jump start on the paper." Cue ominous music.

Tuesday: Today is jam-packed with hours of class. It is your heavy day and you are too tired to look at the planner. Have a long dinner with friends. Gossip about the events of last weekend. Someone in your class will approach you and ask, "Did you start the paper yet?" Shake your head no and laugh; in your head you think, "We have all the time in the world." A small seed of fear implants itself in your mind.

Wednesday: Who are you kidding? Wednesday is bar night/bong night. And even if it wasn't, you won't commit yourself to anything academic at the hump of the week - please!

Thursday: The fear has grown into a seedling. That deadline looms over your head like a sword of Damocles. You question your values: "Where is that book I need to read? Shouldn't I at least have an outline for this paper?" As punishment, you do not allow yourself to go out, even though you heard about that raging party at Home Avenue. Do you get the work done? Of course not, because you're far too busy doing a crossword, getting your laundry done, and checking away messages.

Friday: While cleaning your room, you spot the book you need to re-read on the floor. This is the most physical contact you have made with the book so far. Read a couple of the pages, place Post-Its on an important passage. You're getting into being proactive - and then your phone rings. A friend tells you about a birthday party and you drop the book, hit the showers, and get ready to waste time.

Saturday: Even though you set aside a specific block of time to work on the paper, you decide it's okay to pave over those good intentions and watch some inane VH1 shows while surfing Facebook. Your housemates/bad influences drag you out to dinner where you sit for hours and discuss all the work you have to do. Instead of moving from the talking phase to the doing phase, you go back to your room, stare at the clock and think: "Can I start pre-gaming now?" Begin drinking at 10:00 p.m. sharp, continue onward until 2:00 a.m., and fall asleep on the bed fully clothed at around 4:00 a.m. Right before bed, you think "I'm going to get up at 10:00 a.m. and do this paper."

Sunday: After wiping the dried saliva off your cheek, you squint at the alarm clock. It flashes 3:30 p.m. Take a thirty-minute shower, pack your bag and go to the library to get stuff done. You are primed, an essay-writing machine - but the lighting in the room is so dreary and dull and then - you pass out. At 7:00 p.m. wake up, take an hour long dinner and get back to work. Your fingers are poised at the keyboard; the book is open in your lap. And you realize, "I don't even know how to start this paper." The fear plant is now a redwood of despair. Get angry at the teacher. How dare she expect you to write something? How is a week enough time? Type up some notes, erase a paragraph, and add in a huge quote. Think: She didn't warn you about how challenging this paper was going to be. She knows better than to screw you over like this. Bang out a couple of pages. Adjust the margins. Look at the time; it's 3:00 a.m. The paper is sprawling mess of quotes and half-finished thoughts. Go into perfectionist mode ("This paper looks so bad I just can't finish it") then bargaining mode ("Oh God, please help me get this done; I'll never do this again") then settle into defeatist mode ("I could just drop out of school right now and then I won't have to do this paper").

And then that Monday rolls around. Your face is greasy, your wrists hurt from the non-stop typing, your eyes are bloodshot from the lack of sleep. The paper is finished, incoherent but complete. In your unattractive and anemic condition, you drag yourself to the classroom, drop the paper on the teacher's desk and pass out in the back while she prattles on about deconstructing the state.

Don't you see? We need help - perhaps a PowerPoint presentation on the importance of being timely. Perhaps, we just have a genetic predisposition to wasting time. Or maybe there aren't enough hours in the day. I know there's a solution to the procrastinator's dilemma out there somewhere and I plan to find it - but I'll get to that in a couple of weeks.

!oo!

!oo! is my new sign for victory. The !’s represent the index and little finger of championship and the o’s represent the knuckles of bad-ass-itude. Alternately, they also symbolize a football goalpost. Convenient Super Bowl segue…

I’m not a big Super Bowl fan by any means, but I did get to watch with a couple of friends, a lot of Domino’s Pizza and a Blue Moon. Here’s my cheers and jeers.

CHEERS: To the New York Giants winning! (Obviously!) I’ll be honest, I had doubts. Okay I had virtually no hope. I was optimistic, but my glass was 10% full. Go Eli Manning, maybe now people won’t call you “Peyton’s brah.”

JEERS: To the incredibly racist Bud Light commercials. Seriously, advertisers, a commercial making fun of South Asian accents? Of course that makes me want to buy your beer. Because beer should be American. No foreigners allowed. They might drop malaria and SARS in the barley. Disgusting. Oh and Carlos Mencia was part of it. Carlos Mencia – king of joke thieves, jack of all stereotypes, master of none. Majorly disgusting!

CHEERS: To Tom Brady getting sacked. Over and over again. I hope Gisele dumps you, Tom. She needs a winner, not a whiner. Tom Brady?—more like Tom “Throws Like A Lady.” Ohhhh, you got hosed on a blog read by 3 people!!!

JEERS: To that BS: “Everyone off the field, we have to play that :01 left in the fourth quarter even though the Giants are up AND have possession on the ball.” Sore losers, much?

CHEERS: To that really cool Coke commercial when Charlie Brown gets the soda. I would have shed a tear, but he’s an inflatable representation of a cartoon character.

JEERS: To another Geico caveman commercial. Go away cavemen! Go the way of the woolly mammoth and become extinct.

That’s all really. In conclusion, yay Giants. !oo!

Minor New Year's Resolution

I was actually able to take a poo in the office! Finally, I feel like I accomplished something grand!

Bed-Ridden

To anyone who went to any of the potential shows I had this week, I'm sorry to say I had to cancel. I was feverishly sick all day Tuesday and Wednesday wasn't that much better. After two days AWOL, I finally trucked it into work today but I'm in more pain than an 80-year-old woman who doesn't get enough calcium.

Damn this freaking flu going around. This is the problem with temping hourly. No paid sick days. Also, no health insurance...but that's another story.

Around The City Shows

Some stuff I'm doing in the city:

Monday January 14th: Pine Tree Lodge
326 East 35th Street (bet. 2nd and 1st Avenue)
9 PM - 10 PM
COST: FREE
Joe Dixon and I run this short show with great comics. Plus we're re-enacting our old contest o' champions! Where any random audience member can win a super-kewl prize (TM). I host this every Monday, so come by and get free $h!7.

Featuring Mike Lawrence, Jessica Delfino, Darrell Shipley, Kendra Cunningham

Tuesday January 15: Alibi Lounge - Comedy For The F*$% of It!
116 MacDougal Street (between West 3rd and Bleecker)
8 PM - 10 PM
COST: FREE
Really cool show hosted by really cool comedian DEL. Usually free give-aways and what not.

Saturday February 2nd: The PIT - Naked Comedy Show
154 West 29th Street (close to 7th Ave)
I'll be baring more than just my soul at this clothing free showcase of jocularity! Featuring Rob O'Reilly and Andy Ofiesh.
8 PM
COST $10

I'm working on re-doing my MySpace but when I do, it's on! Check it out for a list of other shows so you can see my wit live. Oh yeah! Plus I'm working on a new performance art set. Should be fun...

It Goes There

DeGrassi marathons have my warped my head. They taught me about a new type of person: a man-cer. That's a man who lives with cancer and doesn't cry about it. Also, a Canadian actor who can't subtly display emotions.

I've got to make a big decision. And instead of deliberating, I procrastinate. My work ethic is so bad that I can't even think of an end to this joke.