Dear blog,

As 2007 winds to an end and I find myself spending hours in the company of vintage Charles Manson videos, I says to myself I says "this has been one bullshit kind of year."  Not since Greg Brady won and lost a recording contract in the space of 24 hours has fate delivered such a tornadic hand of cards to one questionably hairdo-ed person.  Yet through it all, I have remained safely free of the kind of joy booze can bring a person.  And for that, I say:  thank you, 2007, you son of a bitch.

Guys let's face it:  if it were possible to punch an entire year in the stomach, 2007 would have the wind knocked out of it right now.  Yes, there have been good times:  Palm Springs, the Crackpot tour, my niece, a long-awaited reunion with sandwiches.  Yet there has also been devastation:  the failed hair dye, the seasonal allergies, and the ultimately futile attempt to change the world, one wig at a time.  When I look back on 2007, I feel as though I'm watching my spirit claw its way out of an early grave.  And as it makes its way aboveground, a handful of angry young people call it names over the Internet.

YES IT'S A GODDAMN PITY PARTY TO RING IN THE NEW YEAR.  If this isn't your kind of party, mayhaps you'll want to go find the kind that allows for the sticking of dicks in mashed potatoes.  Otherwise, if you're staying, please save your "poor baby" comments for some other lucky blogger.  Of that kind of feedback, I have had an ass full.

2007 began with the last leg of the food cult and the first real hope of making a living as a writer/entertainer.  That hope and its subsequent squashing may be at the root of why the year is ending with a newfound affection for the world's most famous shaggy-haired killer.  When Charlie tells a female reporter "Believe me, if I started murdering people, there'd be none of ya left" I find myself thinking "well at least he's finally getting in touch with his anger."  Still not in favor of murder--and hope I never will be--but slowly becoming a fan of the "Take this Job and Shove It" approach to life.

Here are my plans for 2008:  move out of my parents' house.  I'm turning 40 in February.  It's not cute or funny or whimsical anymore, if it ever was, which quite frankly it wasn't.  I moved in here in very early sobriety as a last resort before committing suicide.  Everything had fallen apart and I could hardly get out of bed in the morning, let alone support myself and five animals.  But now I'm four years sober as of this past Thursday (happy belated anniversary) and I can take care of myself and my pets, who are ready and willing to pitch in when needed.  Not really but how great would it be if pets could get part-time jobs or at least sweep up every once in a while.

B) Write and try out new stand-up material every week, no matter what.  It's what worked in the beginning, it's just hard to be a beginner again after you've tasted the glory of featuring in Toledo, Ohio and Wichita, Kansas.  Still, nothing makes me happier than stand-up, especially when I'm trying new material.  Unless it bombs, in which case nothing is more painful.  (Except an insensitive dentist, of whom I have also had an ass full this year.)

3. Create monthly comedy shorts as part of the no-budget production company Lady Situation Productions (copyright 2007).  Show these shorts around town, to the delight and fascination of the members of Lady Situation Production.

4) Make more episodes of a soap opera starring Bictor Fiero and the Baggins family.  Call it something besides "Lake Charles Lake", if legally mandated to do so.

E) Put up a profile on an online dating community.  Although I am not currently ready to date and have not been able to even picture being ready since I drank my last drop of alcohol, I don't want to face another lovelorn Palm Springs this year.  Yes, I have a deep-seated fear and disdain for all men, and I can see how that might be a stumbling block to having an intimate relationship with one.  Add a conspiracy-theorist's level of paranoid insecurity to the mix and you've got yourself the Single's Profile of the Year.  Still, as Willy Wonka would say:  there is no way out but through, and we've got to go forward to go back.  Better press on.

F) Vacuum out my car.

Guys I hope everybody has a wonderful whatever kind of holiday they celebrate.  Thanks to any and all readers of this blog for giving me a reason to write something, and for satisfying my unending need for attention, one day at a time.  And mostly thank you The Year 2007, for ending.  You son of a bitch.

Love,

The car vlog Joe Wilson and I made has been a featured video on Myspace Comedy this week.  As a result, I've been meeting some hot guys.

Exhibit A):  Erg7737, a shirtless, backwards hat-wearing 24 year old from Orlando, Florida, with whom I've had the following exchange:

Erg7737:  "u live at home with ur parents? how old r u 40?"

Me:  "yes I am almost 40--my age is listed on my profile. thanks for your comment. you will be 40 before you know it. good luck."

Erg7737:  "ill be 40 but i wont live at home with mommy"

Goddammit he got me good.  Then I wrote back two messages.  The first said "maybe you won't live at home but you'll probably still be weird."  Talk about a zinger.  Please, for real, talk about it, because I obviously don't know what one is.  

The second message was worse.  It was a P.S., the kind that in no way at all redeems the original non-zinger:  "P.S. maybe you won't be living at home with your parents when you're my age, but I wonder what kind of awesome life are you living right now that gives you the time and motivation to go leaving public, negative comments on some stranger's video? I can't imagine that a happy person would do stuff like that."

Fun stuff, fighting with a person who is only 6 years out of high school.  Maybe I can go exchange "your mother is so fat…" put downs with an 8^th grader for Christmas.

I guess the mystery of my recent enchantment with Charles Manson has been solved.  He is one guy I know won't be leaving shitty comments on my car vlog.

Oh holy night,

The Ghost of Hippie Cults Past

Dear Blog,

I'm a Charles Manson gawker from way back and tonight I happened upon some video of him on a comedy message board.  For the first time his words actually made sense to me.  I don't know why I'm always behind the times but I finally get why all those girls fell in love with him.  He's got very expressive eyes and many of his insights about society are right on the money.  Soul mates?  Well, you can call us that if you want to.  I prefer to think of us as two batshit people who were it not for the prison system and one person's travel budget constraints, might be living out "The Gift of the Magi" this holiday season. 

God rest ye scary gentlemen,

Marthraldo Rivera

Dear Blog,

To say that a lot's happened since we last spoke would be putting it accurately, not mildly, if you ask me.  A) One of my favorite aunts died last week.  B) My nephew Patrick was born on Saturday night.  He's six weeks ahead of schedule.  C) Someone on the Internet accused me of thievery.  D) I did my friend Ruby Wendell's show at Café Nova last Wednesday night and it was one of the most fun shows ever.  Great audience, awesome venue, terrific comics.  E) I widely escaped a terrorist attack last night at the airport.  F) I narrowly escaped cussing out an old man in the street today.  G) The third episode of the car vlog Joe Wilson and I made came out a few days ago.  H) Episode two of "Lake Charles Lake" came out today.  I) Episode three of "Lake Charles Lake" will not be called "Lake Charles Lake" and will not be on Super Deluxe.  And finally J) the most important news of all:  I bought two Backstreet Boys CDs and one N'Sync CD today and felt like Star Wars Episode Four:  a New Hope.

Here come some details:  A) my aunt Kay was my dad's oldest sister and was one of my favorite people of all time.  I've never met anybody like her.  She was a super devout Catholic who went to church every day, yet when her grandkids (my cousins) were teenagers they could and did talk to her about all kinds of chicanery.  She wouldn't take us to see "The Bad News Bears" when we were kids because it was rated PG, but when we drank and smoked as teenagers she never said a word.  Actually she did say something--one time she pulled me and my sister aside and told us we were great kids who had everything in the world going for us.  No "but you're going to lose it all if you don't straighten up" or anything.  Just a sweet message of encouragement and support.  Nobody else in my family talked like that and I think she could see we needed a boost.

One of the many endearing things about Kay in her later years was that she and some friends--all in their mid-eighties--formed a band and made appearances at convalescent hospitals.  She referred to their shows as "gigs at the old folks' home" and continued doing them in the dead of winter, in Massachusetts for the love of Benji.  Seeing the Traveling Oldbury's tottering up the walk must have been something else for all those nursing home staffers.  Talk about cute.  Holy smokes.

B)  My nephew Patrick's birth:  my parents were out of town at my aunt's funeral so my brother called me from the hospital and asked me to come down and watch my niece while he helped my sister-in-law through labor.  My niece Jennifer will be a year old in a couple of weeks and it wasn't really kosher for her to stay in the room during the delivery.  I'll be 40 years old in a couple of months and it wasn't really kosher for me to stay in the room during the delivery either.  Screams and blood are best enjoyed in a haunted house, am I right fellow gore-phobics?

Anyhoot, Patrick is doing great but will need to stay in an incubator for about 10 days.  I'm sure Jennifer can't wait for him to get home so she can start pulling his hair.  She's the Hair Pulling Champion of the World and can only get better now that she'll have a regular sparring partner.

I know I'm skipping some items but I) regarding "Lake Charles Lake":  Super Deluxe describes episode two as being "the conclusion of the short-lived series."  That's what's written on the webpage that shows the video.  So I says to myself I says "I think they're trying to let us know they won't be ordering more.  And I think for some reason they're trying to let the audience know that as well."  That is just the kind of 'outside the box' marketing scheme that could really set this thing on fire.

In an even slicker move, Super Deluxe hired a P.R. person to create a fake identity and leave an insulting comment under LCL episode one.  Come on guys--let's not get too Machiavellian up in here.  Otherwise we'll get our Emmys revoked.

I celebrated the good "Lake Charles Lake" news by going for a long, solitary walk at the beach with the Backstreet Boys' "Black and Blue" playing on my headphones.  I'm not being ironic when I say it's a masterpiece.  I am being ironic when I say these are great lyrics:  "Sadness is beautiful, loneliness is tragical."  That's from "Shape of My Heart."

Guys I'm running out of steam and there are a lot of letters left.  Will cover more subjects tomorrow.  For now, let's all take a moment to celebrate the fact that the song "Backstreet's Back" was on the very first album the Backstreet Boys ever recorded.  And the first lyrics to that song are "Oh my god we're back again."

Well, in the words of the most recent comment-leaver on "Lake Charles Lake":  fucking boring.

Love,

Didn't-Turn-Out-the-Way-We'd-Hoped Charles Lake

P.S. Thanks to everybody who watched LCL and again to those who worked on it, may ye rest in peace.  Also, regarding the terrorist attack that didn't happen last night at LAX:  when I heard an announcement over the P.A. saying "Steven Jones, please return to security checkpoint 7, Steven or Steph-an Jones, please come back to security checkpoint 7" all I could picture was that Steven-Stephan had left a bag in the shape of one of those old time cartoon bombs with a fuse sticking out the end.  The security people see it and ignore the burning fuse, calling the owner back for his forgotten carry on.  "Steven, hey buddy, come on back and pick up your bag" and then minutes later we're all evaporated in a mushroom cloud.  My parents' plane hadn't arrived yet otherwise I would've run out of there, post haste.  As it turns out, I would've been wrong to do so.  Still wouldn't be dead though, unless I'd had one of those runner's heart attacks you hear about.  Good night. 

Guys!  Explosive events have been occurring left and right!

1) I dyed my hair TWICE in the past week.  The first time I tried for light brown/dark blond and got neither.  Last night I went for auburn and NAILED IT, and am now dealing with the societal biases against redheads.

2) "Lake Charles Lake" was released this morning on Super Deluxe.  We have over 150 views already, which means we are only tens of thousands away from going viral.  If you would like to get in on it now so that you can be like the people who loved Bruce Springsteen before "Born in the USA", then give it a gander here:  http://www.superdeluxe.com/sd/contentDetail.do?id=D81F2344BF5AC7BB49409225EC3E577865AA69753562D37D.  Please leave a positive comment to counteract the hurt feelings already caused by user "Bug Me Not."  Now I know what the stars mean when they say the paparazzi builds you up just so they can tear you down.

3) I almost became a travel writer for an upscale magazine called "Flying Adventures."  I'm using the term "almost" very loosely, which if you ask me is the sign of a great upscale travel writer.  Sample:  "I almost lost my shit when I tasted the chef's award-winning cordon bleu."  I realized just in the nick of time that I hate to travel and am terrified of flying, especially in smaller aircraft.  "You can't fire me I quit" comes to the rescue yet again.

4) I'm back at my sister's office working part-time.  I'm also part-time copywriting again for one and half times the pay of the old job.  Looks like I'll be buying my own aircraft shortly.  Look for me to go out, John Denver-style, in 2008.

5) Did a show at a church on Friday night.  Children were in attendance.  Now you have the inside scoop on "What Went Wrong:  the Martha Kelly Story."

6) Saw the finale of "The Bachelor" where he modes two women in one fell swoop.  I knew he was bad business when he sent his twin brother in to see if the women could tell it wasn't him.  People who "test" other people in relationships should be run away from as quickly as possible, preferably in a zigzag pattern.

In conclusion:  if you like "Lake Charles Lake", please recommend it to other people.  We are hoping to make more episodes and the third one will feature the return of Tom Sharpe.  It will also include the grand opening of Stefano and Carafe's honky tonk "Honk Your Tonk."  Oh god don't let this terrible dream go to waste.

Love,

Cecil B. DeMille 

Dear Blog,

Happy belated Thanksgiving.  I'm fading fast on account of yet another son of a bitch cold and/or flu virus so I'll cut to the chase:  I'm turning into the Incredible Hulk.  I wrote an angry e-mail to a company who listed a job on Craigslist today.  As soon as I sent it I felt badly, because how do I know that the person who wrote it isn't a fragile soul on the verge of suicide?  I know I hope I would only write such an ad if I had lost all touch with reality and was ready to take the last train to Clarksville.

The ad basically asked for someone to write and edit a big portion of a monthly magazine, generating story ideas, writing the stories, being in charge of other freelance writers, producing photographs for stories, and working with the sales and art departments.  Here is the part that really got my goat:

"While this is not a full-time or even part-time job, it could become a steady gig and eventually lead to more. Or maybe you have other activities cooking already, and doing this on the side would suit you just fine.

We currently pay anything from nothing for articles (some do it simply for the fun and glory) [italics mine] to 10 cents (typical) to 20 cents a word for the more difficult stories. We might go slightly higher for articles that require lots of research, that are technically difficult, or quite brilliant, etc. We also contemplate a small ($100) monthly fee for your planning/overseeing duties.

If money is a critical need, there might be opportunities to become involved with advertising sales. Sad but true, that's where the money is in publishing."

This is only the most recent in a trend of want ads on Craigslist where they try to Tom Sawyer you into thinking you want to paint their motherfucking picket fence for "the fun and glory" of it.  All I wanted to do was write to them and say "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!"  But instead, I wrote an e-mail that included the phrases "where do you get the gall?" and "be ashamed of yourselves, I beg you." 

Maybe I'm partly reacting out of guilt over not having stomped the sidewalks with my friends in the WGA strike.  When the strike started I was still working a 9 to 5 office job and made some flippant remarks about picketers causing traffic jams.  I guess referring to writers as "bearded, doughy white guys" wasn't as supportive as it could have been.  In my defense, I've loved many a bearded, doughy white guy, but still.  I do feel passionately about the strike and want writers to get treated fairly and if I wasn't busy writing angry responses to job listings I would of course be walking the line.

There is a part of me that still lives by the rules and fears of adolescence, and that part is afraid to join the picketers.  After Columbine, I imagined what the unpopular, outcast kids must have gone through thinking they could bond with the popular kids.  I know what I would have thought had that happened at my high school (as I prayed it would many a time):  "now we'll all come together as equals and forget about this brutal adolescent caste system.  What difference do unflattering clothes, poorly applied make-up, and a female mullet make when we're all running from two crazed gunmen?  Who, by the way, are crazed in part because of this brutal adolescent caste system we've got going here.  God it feels good to break free of the constraints of popular/unpopular, cool/uncool, in crowd/outcasts, beautiful/awkward, doesn't it guys?  What time should I meet you for the pre-funeral keg party?  Guys?"

I am positive that there were just as many teenage feelings squashed during the aftermath of Columbine as there were before it happened.  It turns out that the popular, cool, and beautiful never found the clique system as stifling as the rest of us.  Why am I dragging you down in this scenario?  Who's "us?" you should be asking in an accusatory tone.

Anyhoot, the point is that I'm not in the Guild and I'm afraid that if I went down there in a Norma Rae fever some sitcom writer would spot me, Invasion of the Body Snatchers-style and out me as the imposter that I am.

What in the motherfucking hell am I talking about?  They would just be glad for the support.  Goddammit Hulk get a hold of yourself--the world isn't high school.  Fine, Hollywood is kind of high school, but writers are the nerds of Hollywood.  Of course, I didn't hang out with the nerds in high school--my grades weren't good enough and I regularly cussed out the jocks.  The nerds rightly considered me a liability.  But still though, right?  And what not?  I'm not being melodramatic when I say that this virus is making me crazy right now.  I can't remember why I even thought I should write a blog in the first place tonight.  Guess you've got something to retroactively add to your "what I'm thankful for this Thanksgiving" list.

I had a great time on Thanksgiving though.  Saw the Crackpots past and present.  Love those sons of bitches.  Spent Friday bedridden with a fever in between vomit-laden trips to the bat'room.  Hope you had a great holiday.

Love,

Meg from "Little Women" or Whichever Is the Sickly One Who Dies Every Time the Other One Is about to Get Laid

Dear Blog,

A lot has happened since we last spoke.  A) I no longer work at that great company with my sister and the exciting décor.  It's back to freelance copywriting for this working class stiff.  It's a long story and I do happen to have the time to go into it right now, but I think we both know that you'd be better off minding your own business for a change.

B) Tom Sharpe came to town, knocked everybody's socks off, had a great benefit concert, then was gone.  Goodbye funnyman.  Make God laugh.  Tom didn't die, he just went back to the mid-West to finish his medical treatment.  Seems like God might enjoy laughing at people in Iowa from time to time in between laughing at the dead.

And as if that wasn't a whirlwind of a week, here's another thing coming at you:  Joe Wilson uploaded a video blog he and I made this past May:  http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=2071679016.  It's me in my car telling stories and getting road rage.  The idea to tell blog-like stories in my car was Joe's and he shot and edited it.  The long-wind and yelling at strangers are my contribution.  So are the corpse-white arms.  There will be more episodes to follow.  Seems like if you're wearing a hat, you or someone you love might want to hold onto it.

If you take a gander at the vlog and like it and feel moved to leave a comment on Myspace or here:  http://aspecialthing.com/smf/index.php?topic=8498.0, then God rest ye merry gentlemen.  If you don't take a gander at it or do but don't like it, or do like it but don't want to leave a comment anywhere but inside your own mind, no hard feelings.  Quite frankly if you're reading this blog you're already a winner.  And I don't mean you're a winner because my blog is a prize, I mean you've won my heart for graciously feeding into my insatiable need for attention.

Not like the three people who unsubscribed to the blog this week.  They know who they are but shall remain nameless here, mostly because I don't know which three they were.  But they know and they have to live with that knowledge, plus whatever other knowledge they've accumulated throughout the years.  Burn on you, overstuffed unsubscribers.

Well guys I formed a no-budget production company with my friend Courtney today and now I'm about to embark on adventure number two:  going through old notebooks written during my drunk-tank years.  I'm going to glance through them and then throw them out.  It's not a closure-type ceremony; it's just that I don't want my family to have to read them if I die a sudden, timely death.  Lordy lordy look who's almost 40.  Time to renew, see you at Sanctuary.

Love,

The Old Giggly Guy with the Beard in Logan's Run   

Dear Blog,

Good news and bad news.  The bad news is that I'm covering the front desk again today and I'm about to blow a gasket.  It shouldn't be a hard job but you'd be surprised at how people treat you when you're in charge of receptioneering.  Exhibit A) some guy just called here and asked for one of our employees.  He was calling from the great outdoors and said something indistinguishable which I thought was "my name is [so-and-so]."  So I said "I'm sorry sir, I couldn't hear you, could you say your name again?"  Then he snapped "I didn't SAY what my name was."  Are you fucking kidding me?  I will reach through this phone and punch you in your no-name-saying dick. 

Sure, I'm not perfect.  Maybe a more seasoned secretary wouldn't have refused a collect call from the owner's sister this afternoon.  Maybe such a person wouldn't have conversations like the following, either:

caller:  "Hi this is Caesar, can I speak to Danny?"

me:  "Sure Skeeter, hold on just a second."

caller:  "It's CAESAR."

me:  "Fair enough."

Maybe it's not reasonable to say "I'm sorry George, can I get your last name?" to someone whose name is actually "Stuart."  You got me there.  But I ask you this:  at what point do we as a society allow each other some motherfucking humanity?  If you want accuracy, get a machine.  Or a decent receptionist.   

The good news is that there's an awesome new show on Super Deluxe that you can view here:  http://www.superdeluxe.com/sd/artist/comedy_death_ray.  It's the fantastic Brody Stevens interviewing the spectacular Zach Galifianakis.  It has two parts.  Both are awesome.  Please watch it and leave comments and tell your friends about it if you enjoy it. 

Fine, you got me:  I have a vested interest in this show's success.  It's brought to you by the same people who may or may not be bringing you "Lake Charles Lake."  Their name is Comedy Death Ray (also known as Scott Aukerman and BJ Porter).  If "The Brody Stevens Interview Challenge" is a big hit, then there may be a better chance for "Lake Charles Lake" to finally be released.  But I'll be honest with you:  it may never be released regardless.  And wherever Lake Charles Lake's chips may fall, I would still want Brody's show to be a hit.  It's one of the funniest things I've seen in a long time.

Guys I hope everybody has a great Veterans' Day weekend.  I'll be seeing my good buddy Tom Sharpe at some point on Sunday and I can't wait.  I hear he's started a new career as a Lyme Disease Benefit recipient so I'm going to hit him up for a loan.  "Fuck you" money here I come.

love,

Florence from The Jeffersons

Dear Blog,

The building in which I work may or may not be on fire right now.  Everybody's claiming to smell smoke from an electrical fire and the fire dept. is here checking things out.  I'm covering the front desk again all day today and I heard everybody in the lunch room talkin' 'bout "mumble mumble mumble FIRE rabble rabble FIRE ha ha who's sandwich is that FIRE" and nobody would come and tell me what was going on.  So I got on the P.A. system and made the following announcement in the standard say-it-twice style:  "Will somebody please let the front desk know if it's time to panic.  Please alert the front desk when it's time to hit the panic button."  To my amazement, I am still sitting here not having been carried out on everybody's shoulders.

Well, in the time that it took me to write that paragraph they resolved the issue.  Sorry but the fire is out and nobody got to run out into the street screaming. 

Guys I hate to keep making short entries that trick you into taking a gander and then short change you once you get in.  But as my old mentor Oliver from the Brady Bunch used to say:  "Whoa-ho guys!  Sorry!"

love,

Georgio Armani

Dear Blog,

I'm sorry to be melodramatic but I've been on the verge of a meltdown since around 9:00 this morning.  I can't go into any details right now but it's been one frustrating situation after another and I feel like I don't know what the hell is happening.  The final straw was when I found out I'd spent the last two days calling a guy "Jerry" whose name is actually "Gary."

love,

Fuck It

P.S. This is what you'd call "mitigating circumstances" if today had been convicted of murder and you were trying to get it life in prison instead of the death penalty:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JsRI0TofwwI