Monthly Archives: September 2011


It was an interesting night on basic cable. I watched the Comedy Central roast of Charlie Sheen.

I was gonna write a post on throwing my support to Charlie Sheen’s big comeback, considering I was a vocal supporter during his winning tiger blood days. But, it quickly got bogged down with a lot of ambivalent statements about who I think he really is or could be, his drug and domestic abuse, that he’s probably bipolar, blah blah blah. Y’all don’t wanna read that. You wanna read the funniest jokes from the roast. Well, here are the ones I liked:

Seth McFarlane (Roastmaster)

“We all know there’s a good chance Charlie will be dead soon…“

“You’ve seen him in movies, you’ve seen him in tv, you’ve seen him point a gun in your face if you’re a prostitute that tried to get him hard.”

“Let’s take a look back at the work that paid for all that cocaine.”

“Charlie Sheen’s the reason a dick with cocaine on it is called a Sheenis.”

Anthony Jeselnick’s act combines the excitement of standing there and the thrill of saying words. “

“What can I say about Amy Schumer? And I mean that sincerely, I’ve never heard of this woman.”

Kate Walsh (who was surprisingly very funny, with excellent delivery and timing)

“Seth McFarlane, the only difference between you and the hooker in Charlie’s closet is that eventually the hooker came out.”

“Despite all those years of abusing your lungs, kidneys, your liver, the only thing you’ve had removed is your kids.”

Jeff Ross

“Charlie’s meltdown was so bad, Al Gore’s making a documentary about it.”

“How do you go from being tv’s highest paid actor ever, to being tv’s highest actor ever.”

“Charlie Sheen is to stand up what Larry Flynt is to standing up.”

“The only time your kids get to see you is in reruns.”

“Charlie’s nostrils are so snotty and full of coke he calls them ‘The Hilton Sisters’.”

Mike Tyson

“As The Bard once said, All the world’s a stage and Charlie’s been boo’d off them all.”

“During your performance, I wish I’d bit my own ears off.”  (to Jeffrey Ross)

“Trust me, Charlie, once the money goes, so does the hoes.”

Anthony Jeselnik

“Every moment of your life looks like the first 2 minutes of Law & Order: SVU.”

“You’ve convinced more women to have abortions than the prenatal test for Down’s syndrome.”

Amy Schumer (my personal favorite of the night with an understanding of wtf a roast should be)

“William, I’ve seen less bloated men dragged out of rivers. What’s going on?” (to William Shatner)

“Your marriage to Denise Richards, it was kind of like her Viet Nam because she was constantly afraid of being killed by Charlie.”

“Charlie, you’re like Bruce Willis. You were big in the 80’s and your old slot is being filled by Ashton Kutcher.”

William Shatner

“Prostitutes cost a lot of money, Charlie. Hasn’t anyone told you that actresses will sleep with you for free? That’s Hollywood 101. YOU SHOULD’VE CALLED!”

“I synthesized uric acid and calcium inside my bladder and turned it into a house for Habitat for Humanity! Who’s the warlock now, bitch!” (on raising money by auctioning off his kidney stones

Patrice O’Neal
(my very surprising disappointment tonight)

“No straight man writes that many show tunes. And that’s a fact.”

“I respect Charlie Sheen. not his body of work, but…”

“He proved that nobody can keep a Sheen down. They can keep an Estevez down. Look at his brother. That motherfucker did everything right and his career is OVER. HOLY SHIT.”

Charlie Sheen

“Until tonight, I never realized how fucked up I was. All this time, I thought I was just ‘having fun’.”

“You have what I call a Libyan face. By that I mean it’s revolting.” (to Jeff Ross)

“It was your work on Star Trek that inspired me to act like an asshole until the rest of the cast stopped speaking to me.” (to Shatner)

“When I did Ferris Beuller my first line was ‘Drugs?’ I thought they were asking me how I wanted to be paid.”

“I did the one thing that everyone in America wishes they could do: I told my boss to fuck off.”

“I’m done with ‘the winning’ because I’ve already won.”

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Staying the night in the historic and haunted Gunter Hotel. Famous for Room 414, where Robert Johnson recorded.

Infamous for being haunted, due to a horrendous murder in Room 636. We visited both rooms, and were inky creeped out by one, when we heard a weird noise. One picture is of us literally running. Can’t wait to check this place out after dark.

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The "I will wait for you" scene in the season finale of Louie is the most heartbreaking moment in the history of television. Heartbreak is so much more painful when you don't see it coming.

I've said for years that Louis CK is probably the smartest living comedian on the planet and when Louis premiered, I realized he's also one of the great artists of our time. Louie is hard to watch. But worth it.

I don't now how I'll wait a year until Season 3.

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Just found the absolute reason that I hate sites like Yelp. I was googling dive bars in San Antonio and got this “review”:

“This is, without a doubt, the worst bar I have ever been to. It’s worth visiting this place if you’re feeling sorry for yourself, because all you have to do is tell yourself, “Hey, at least I’m not the washed up Marine who loves to talk too loudly about how great Pink Floyd is” or “At least I’m not the bartender who wears faded golf shirts and says ‘fuck’ a whole lot” or “Hey, at least I’m not the 60-year old female owner who tucked her dress into her panties when she left the restroom because she was too drunk to realize it.” Seriously. I only ended up here because I was in San Antonio waiting for my friend to arrive and finally found parking and didn’t want to venture too far. My God. This place is fucked. I can’t even believe they stay in business. Oh, they only take cash and their ATM machine will tack on a $3.50 fee. Whatever.”

This is pretty much the definitive Yelp review by the typical Yelp contributor.

Great job, Internet!


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Crushing pretty hard on Lana Del Ray (formerly Lizzy Grant). Quite the bombshell kitty.

Lyrics culled from contemporary conversation. Voice like the second coming of Peggy Lee. Except for the interstitial Japanese pop punk girl band stylings and the sultry jazz whispers. Guns, liquor, sex and love. Be warned: she’s totally sample-able.

The videos are weird little cut and paste collages of all manner of film. I couldn’t find a good video for Diet Mt. Dew, but definitely give that a google.

These are all fantastic. Please to enjoy.

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Me: Narcissus and Goldmund was the basis of a song by the band Kansas titled “Journey from Mariabronn”. 
Him: I will tolerate no busts on Kansas or Hesse. 
Me: Hey, I delivered that fact without comment, my friend. 
Him: Just making sure.
Me: Carry on, my wayward son. 
Him: Well, you know, my charade is the event of the season. 
Me: Touche.

I think there’s a tuxedo, a Prince Valiant haircut and at least one hipster mustache in this video. And…a dancer?

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(This article was written for a local publication and never saw the light of day. It’s almost 2 years old and was written in that 60 day time span that I had an iPhone and a Blackberry, a perfect storm of Type A douchiness. SMH. Anyway, the theme was “grown up toys” and most of the article still holds up – I have a MacBook now and am strictly Android.)

For all intents and purposes, I am a grown-up. I pay taxes, rent, car insurance. I eat out at places with actual tablecloths, I have complicated relationships and I think 16 is waaaaay too young to be driving. But, for all the responsibilities and adult opinions I have, I like to be reminded that everything grown-up doesn’t have to be boring or formal. I still like to have toys, except now I use half a paycheck to acquire them, rather than taking out the garbage or keeping my room clean.

My toys are no longer just packaged in thin cardboard and cellophane, easily ripped open in the back seat of my Mom’s Honda. No, now my toys come in sturdy boxes with Amazon or Apple or Newegg invoices in them and include shipping charges and signatures. My enthusiasm for ripping the boxes open hasn’t changed, and my basic needs are pretty comparable, but my tastes in gadgetry have matured along with advances in technology. So, I’ve compiled a short list of my old-school to new-school needs to share with you:  

1.  I would consider my most prized possession as a child of the 80’s was my Sharp GF-5656 boombox. It weighed 11 lbs, had 3 EQ knobs (volume, treble, bass) and an analog counter so I could locate a song on a tape, granted I had documented its location during a past listen. I took that thing everywhere. I played it on the bus to and from school, I took it into the back yard where I did dance routines with my neighbors and I recorded my favorite songs from the radio. At some point in its life, I painted it with oils to customize it a bit. To reiterate…it WEIGHED 11 LBS!  By serious contrast, my most important toy and piece of gadgetry will always be my 5th Gen video iPod. It’s not the newest model and not the oldest, but it contains 80,000 of my favorite songs and hasn’t left my side in years. Its 4.8 oz weight ensures easy transport. Sure, I could go in for the iTouch or transfer everything to my iPhone, but it is held on to fondly like the memory of my Sharp GF-5656.

2.  As a pre-teen, my second most important possession after my boombox was my trusty, whimsical Garfield phone.  I don’t remember having any particular affection for the cartoon strip, but I loved my phone.  I loved the way I would call boys and hang up, then giggle with my girlfriends. I loved the fact that even though the handset had buttons, it only dialed with that ridiculous clicking pulse dial.  I loved the way if I laughed too hard or got too excited on the phone call that my chin would press the receiver and hang up the call. Also, can’t forget the fact that Garfield magically opened his eyes when a call was answered! It was terrific. I was high tech back then. Much the same, these days I can’t live without my Blackberry and my iPhone. Yes, I have both…no, I do not need both.  There will rarely be a time or a picture where you will not see me without my phone in my hand, at the ready, at all times. I still call boys and hang up, then giggle with my girlfriends. Nothing has changed except that I don’t have to make an Olympic dash to my bedroom every time the phone rings.

3.  As a very young child, I had a beautiful Winnie the Pooh toy box. It was white with little pictures of all the Hundred Acre Wood dwellers on it. It was constructed of particle board on the inside and padded vinyl on the outside. It contained all of my worldly treasures. There were Barbie dolls and Star Wars toys lovingly tucked away inside. They would wait for me to open up the lid and then spring to life! I spent hours and hours inside my own head, creating dramas and comedies with everything. And when the box was empty, I could hide away in it as long as I could stand it, away from the worries of your average 6 year old. I still have toy boxes today, only now they’re measured in gigabytes as opposed to cubic feet.  Actually, it’s more accurately measured in a terabyte, all housed in Western Digital casings. I have a 500 GB external hard drive and two 300 GB hard drives. These tiny little toy boxes store everything I digitally own. Hundreds of thousands of songs, thousands of pictures, hundreds of movies, books and documents.  I can still open one up and get lost for hours in its contents.  

4.  It’s widely documented that I grew up with a technophile father, so we quite often had really cool computer stuff in our house. We had tons of gaming consoles, satellite dishes and cable boxes, all manner of VCR’s and BetaMax machines and several early personal computers. We went through an Apple IIe, a TI-99, a Commodore 64 and an IBM PS/2.  My personal favorite was the IBM. It had dual floppy drives and a monitor with a green and black screen. The whole thing came in a beautifully bland beige and brown color that blended right in to our wood panel walls. It was then that my love for computers truly came alive. My dad taught us how to use the command line and told us that if we wanted to create a program to do something, we had to write it ourselves. I don’t know if it even came with an internal hard drive. We had to store everything on floppies.  I remember playing Carmen Sandiego, Jeopardy and WWII flight simulations on it. We had a dot matrix printer hooked up to it and it took 20 minutes to print out any worthwhile short story. These days, with ever-growing impatience, I rely on my HP TX1000 to get me through my short stories, articles and silly little love letters to my favorite memories.  It’s a mid-level entertainment PC built specifically to run on Vista, though I hope to install Ubuntu one day when (if) I ever find the time. It’s traveled with me a million places and I don’t have to write a program to get it to do what I need. I could not live without that laptop.

5.  And in my room, alongside the boombox, phone and toy box, were shelves and shelves of books. The collection that I shared with my sister grew and grew until we finally had to store books in the garage, where, sadly, some years later a flood would destroy all those childhood books I had relished and loved.  I have written many times previously about my passion for books and, no doubt, I will again. I love the smell of them, the different types of paper sounds they make when turning pages, the stoic look of them on the book shelves and the permanence of their words.  I love finding used ones with little inscriptions. I love sharing them with others, but only after rigorous personal testing of said others which includes discovering if they are worthy of such a loaned book.  Although I should include my newly discovered love for a book storing gadget here like the Kindle, I can’t do it. I don’t own a Kindle, though they are pretty cool.  I can’t say that I ever will. Neat-o factor aside, I’ll never get the visceral reaction from its cold plastic casing that I will get from the warm, rough paper of an old, used book.  It’s the only one of my tastes from childhood that has never changed. I can live without the Garfield phone and the vinyl toy box, but I my love for an old-fashioned read in hand will never, ever change.

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