And I think i'm gonna out of my mind...

...over you.

Or is it "out of my head"? (I think the question mark is supposed to go inside the quotation marks)

I'm going crazy. I'm so out of it right now I think Mad TV is funny. Something is seriously wrong with me.

Mad TV is an anomaly to me. Its a show in which there are people that I think are actually funny, but somehow put together a show that is so so. I feel the same way about SNL (at times i feel that way - there are people on that show i'd like to destroy).

Look at the cast of Mad TV. Since its inception it has been fueled with inventive and interesting performers from Bryan Callen, Orlando Jones, Artie Lange, Alex Borstein, Stephanie Weir, Michael McDonald, Will Sasso, Mo Collins, Aries Spears, Phil LaMarr, Andrew Daly, Bobby Lee, Keegan-Michael Key, and, of course, Nicole Parker and Debra Wilson.

Funny people that have done a lot of funny stuff. For instance, Alex Borstein (the love of my life) is a writer on Family Guy and does a ton of voices including the voice of wisdom, Lois Griffin.

Maybe I'm wrong maybe I'm not going insane. Oh wait, right now I think "The Parkers" is funny too.

A dream deffered

Its late. Its 12am which I always follow up with 3am EST since I'm in Vegas.
Nothing else.
Yet.

I'm now 25

Well the 18th was my birthday and i'm officially a quarter of a century old. Do i feel different? No. I'm still poor.

My favorite thing people said when i told them it was my birthday was "really? is it really your birthday?" Are there really that many people lying about their birthday's. I mean i know some people do it to get a free meal or a drink here and there, but do they go up to their close friends and say "It my birthday! Haha I'm joking! I'm a trickster! I totally fooled you! Even though I'm a close friend of yours I just gave you reason to never trust me about anything more important! And seeing how a birhday is really insignificant, you can't expect me to be honest about anything! MWAH HAHAHAHA! I'm an ingenious rapscallion"

People asked me what i wanted for my birthday, i just made it into a grocery list. "What do i want? Hmm, some paper towels would be nice. And some toilet paper. And maybe a few cans of Campbell's Chunky Soup. No, you know what? Its my birthday: i'm gonna be fancy. Campbell's Select."

I'm now in my hometown of Las Vegas, NV chillin with my Mom, Grandma, Step-Grandma, and Step-Dad. Most importantly though, I'm around my little sisters whom I adore. At least for the first few days. Its amazing how you could miss someone and not see them for 6 months, but once you do you're done with it in about 2 days of screaming and jumping. And by you, I mean me.

More later on my travels and also the story of the flight into Vegas sitting next to annoying tourists that made me feel nice and racist.

I see dead(funny) people...

This is a list of comics I saw today. At least the ones I know the names of...

Josh Grosvent, Victor Varnado, Liz Miele, Jen Dziura, Todd Womack, Matt Daly, Kristen Schaal, Rob Gordon, Mark Douglas, Moody McCarthy, Free to be Friends (Julie Klausner and Sue Galloway), Elon James White, Katina Corrao, Jenny Rubin, Liam McEneaney, Becky Yamamoto, Laura Mannino, Matt McCarthy, Theron Steiner, Ophira Eisenberg, Jess Wood, Desiree Burch, Matt Taylor, Dave Baldwin, Eric Andre, Sven Wechsler, Becky Donohue, Molly Reisner, Michelle Buteau, Susan Prekel, Rena Zager, Jodie Wasserman, Irene Bremis, Charlie Gaeta, Rachel Feinstein, Susannah Perlman

And that ends my list.

Moment of Clarity #23

Some guys kiss their biceps and say something like "Watch out for the Big Guns." I kiss mine and say "Don't worry about the sling shots."

Scrappy Dappy Doo!

There is nothing in the Bible about Christmas. Its not there. It was a pagan holiday that was absorbed as a means to convert more people to Christianity. Fact is, nobody really knows when Christ was born and if we did it wouldn't be the same day every year because we would know the date according to the Jewish Calendar which is different then the Julian Calendar which is what we use (based on moon cycles).

Now that I've got that off my chest. Let's talk. First a racist joke.

There's an exhibit in town right now called "Bodies". Its a scientific exhibit which shows the internal organs and muscles of the bodies and how they work in different circumstances. Here's the rub, they are using real bodies. Real organs, real muscles. Some people find it disturbing and disrespectful. I don't. The bodies were donated by the Chinese Government and we all know the Chinese aren't real people.

Ah inappropriate race humor. Somehow very rejuvenating. Its ok though. Seriously, some of my closest friends are Chinese. Did a cool show tonight with Becky Yamamoto. Some people included were Desiree Burch, Michelle Collins, Sara Schaefer, Lang Fisher, Michael Cyril Creighton, Tony Carnevale, Jon Friedman, Lianne Stokes...list goes on.

Another Insomnia Induced Session

I want to do more political material. The thing about it is, no matter what I do I don't feel like I know enough. And this world is changing so fast. I try to read The NY Post, the Daily News, The NY Times, Time Magazine, Newsweek Magazine and the Economist. I try to read them.

I have piles of Time and The Economist scattered all over my bedroom contributing to the mess that is my life and brain. I will buy one with the intent of reading it and a lot of the time, I get through a good portion of it, or at least certain stories that I find interesting. I try to cross reference different sources so that I get a fuller picture of what it is I'm trying to understand. Then I'll put the paper or mag down and say "I'll read the rest of that later" while I go browse blogs and myspace and IM with people I wouldn't be caught dead with in real life (That's a joke if you're one of them and you're reading this)

The other day I was given a Metro and I didn't finish it until later. A METRO! The thing is only 6 pages long! This paper was made for people that want information but don't actually care about it staying in their brains and I had a literary double take with it. DAMMIT!

It's just hard to know everything that's going on in the world unless you commit your life to it. And there are many people who do, but they specialize in knowing about a specific thing. Like South America's effect on the US, or Tribal Conflict in Africa, or how companies process their foods, or knowing exactly how much nutmeg to put in the nog. I think I get distracted because I'm trying to know it all. As a wise person once said "I know a lot about a lot of things, but I don't know everything about one thing."

I wish I was a joke writing machine. Give it time. Not everything comes out hilarious. Here's a joke I heard that was in a play I did a staged reading of today by Kara Lee Corthron (the play was by her, not sure if the joke is)

A rabbit and a bear are in a forest and they hate each other. One day they accidentally find a magic lamp. They were fighting and it fell out of a tree or something. They rub it and of course a genie comes out and grants them each 3 wishes. The bear goes first and he wishes to be the only male bear in the forest. Then he wishes that all the other bears in the forest were female. Then he wishes for there to be a lot of other bears in the forest. The bear, of course, is delighted. Then the rabbit has his turn. He points to the bear and says "I wish he was gay." BAZING

Eh - xistence

You ever wish you weren't alive? Not in a way that means you want to kill yourself. Not dead. That's why I use the words "not" and "alive." It a more matter of fact feeling. A passing thought. "Boy, I wish I wasn't alive...meh, back to the grocery list."

Its a feeling like wishing that you didn't exist. Again, I must stress that I don't mean it in a negative or depressing way. Just in the way of not wanting to deal with things like money or work or creativity or existential dilemmas. See? Its a wish to not have existential dilemmas. Its the alternate ending to "Its a Wonderful Life" where George just says "Eh" and walks away.

Doo dee dah deedle dodo dada zwee bop skee do wah.

Thought I'd do a little type-scat for you. Imagine that along with an old Ella Fitzgerald hit.

It officially is cold here now. It snowed a little bit, but it just gonna get worse as the months go on. That's the east coast for ya. 5 months of winter, 5 months of summer and fall and spring are a month each. A friend of mine in chicago told me its 1 degree there right now which is the coldest December they've had in a century. Every year the records of "hottest day" and "coldest day" are being broken. Sign the end is nigh? You make the call.

and now for stream of concious writing

many thought race threw my head as i open the flood gates of my mind lots of thing fall out of it mostly having to do with some random ass tv show. many popculture references in this al gore like lockbox that is my memory. Tv was my babysitter. Couldn't have been a better sitter. She never yelled. Always let me decide what i wanted to do and never told my mom any of the things I did while she was gone. She also didn't get mad when I would watch the old school Adam West "Batman" and re enact the fights in the living room while wearing little to no clothes at all. Dadadadadada BATMAN!! And then when all was said and done things would be normal by the time Mom got home. Ah the joys of being an only child. At least until I was 13 when my little sister was born. I remember being at home and waking up late for school and wondering why no one bothered to tell me. The house was empty. I got ready for school and walked on my way there and still i saw no people around my metropolis. I looked up at the sky and it looked like a cosmic Cookie Monster had taken a bite out of the sun (I later found out it was an eclipse-duh) "The world is about to end," I thought, "and I was left behind."

That was a little harder than i was expecting it to be. I obviously can't type as fast as I can think. Especially when i go back to correct spelling and punctuation.

I return

I'm actually gonna start blogging again. I'm gonna make myself blog everyday because its good for me. It allows me to unlock the floodgates of my creativity as they said to me back in 3rd grade.

So the thing is this, not all of this will make sense.

Some of it will be random ass shit.

Some of it will be insightful.

Some of it will be ramblingnessity.

Personally I think you learn more about a person through how they ramble and go on tnagents. You just gotta learn how to decipher the code. Rambling is when you see how the mind actually analyzes, processes and puts together all the random info infiltrating our minds at all times. Most of us express ourselves in a way someone else taught us that is considered neutral.

Rambling is natural. You gotta learn how to harness the power of rambling like its a wild beast you can tame. Rambling is sometimes like unpacking the brain of info so that you can connect to the real message and/or important info lurking at the bottom of the pile.

Embrace rambling until you have nothing to ramble about.

See random but I like it - me gusta.

A joke....

I'm happy about Peter Jackson's remake of King Kong. I'm a huge Peter Jackson fan and I'm happy to finally see him tackling the issue of interracial relationships

So...

I haven't written in a long while because I have a very temperamental internet connection. In fact, I guarantee my connection will go off 5 times while writing this and I'll have to wait an hour or 2 afterwards to load it onto my page. Most likely, I'll press "publish" and it'll go to a "Page Not Found" and i'll hit the "Back" button and "everything" I wrote will be "gone" and I will say "Fuck." I'll try copying it beforehand.

I've had a lot to say since last I wrote. Begin now.

Here's a thought I had yesterday. I think one of our tragic flaws as a country is having a dependence on a finite substance: oil. This is something I think will contribute to our downfall as an empire. Also, it's something we don't really have much of here in the US. We get the majority of it elsewhere. We should use something we have plently of as a fuel source. Like righteous directionless indignation. Or cynical suburban white teenagers who talk like their a Tupac/Keanu hybrid. How about we use something we have plently of in the US as a new fuel source: unwanted pregnancies. SURE! Since, Roe v. Wade might be overturned soon, how about taking those fetuses from teen mothers, grinding them up and putting that potent goo in those Hummers. With the rising teen pregnancy rates that's a fuel source we could rely on for thousands of years. Problem solved. Rambling finished.

NY Post Mordem

I'm a fan of all things comedy, so I read the Post. This is from page 15. The headline reads "Horny Leo strikes out twice" Classic.

...DiCaprio was again humbled on Halloween at LA's Mondrian hotel, where he showed up to a bash disguised as an old man with a hunchback. But unrecognizable Leo struck out with the gaggle of pretty trick or treaters he was hitting on, a spywitness tells PAGE SIX, because "the girls didn't know who he was. It was hilarious."

They didn't know who he was so they weren't interested. Notice how much harder it is when you take away the looks and all you have is personality and sense of humor. And who says it was a costume, maybe Halloween is the one time a year Leo gets to come out as his natural self with no makeup. Maybe its the one time of year the spell is lifted and you see what the portrait of him in his attic looks like.

Shallow-ween

Halloween is over thank God! I can't stand people during that holiday. People kept asking me what I was going as finally I said..

"Well I'm going as a guy who has been wearing the same clothes for a week because he can't afford to do laundry, doesn't know how he's gonna pay his rent and has a $800 cell phone bill. i would have went as my father but it was hard to find a woman who would let me get her pregnant as leave her the moment I found out."

I ended up at a party in Williamsburg and the best part about that was its hard to tell who was wearing a costume and who is just from Williamsburg. Like they are really that cool. Are you some sort of superhero or do you normally just wear a cape? To exemplify, I complemented this one girl on her costume, turns out she was just Asian...and having a seizure. What she don't know won't hurt her.

That usually got pity and maybe a free drink. The pressure is on the women more so than men though. And no I'm not the first comic to observe this, but why the fuck does every costume have to be sexy? I mean it's expected of all women now. Even if they don't want to do it, they look like idiots if they aren't showing flesh. I think some girl take it too far though. They cross the line.

I saw this girl who was very sexy. No, Miss Subways, but still a looker. She was wearing a light blue miniskirt with dark blue fishnets, a blue wig, and a shirt with the picture of an ocean wave on it. I asked what she was. "I'm a Tsexy Tsunami. I'ma drown you in my kisses." That is offensive. And she was Asian. Double Whammy.

I saw another girl who I thought was a sexy black librarian. "I'm a sexy Rhosha Pharhks*. I refused to leave my seat because my anus was firmly nestled on a buttplug." WHAT THE...? That is rude, disrespectful and not to mention a horrible way to portray someone who recently passed away and meant a lot to a lot of people. But she heard "What's you number?" and gave it to me. I'll play your little game. We'll talk about this in a more intimate setting, Miss Missy.

*note: remove "h's" for real name. Inserted those to avoid google searches where someone can find her name in the same sentence as anus and buttplug on my site

...and its over.

I'm getting over being sick which is quite grand indeed. Its nice to be able to breathe through my own nose.

My nose was running. I hated it. Nothing I could do could stop the nasty mucous from dripping down my face. No matter how much I wiped or blew it it would keep going like a geyser at a national park: Old Snotfilled.

So its just good to breathe again. Or at least be able to partake in some form of breathing in which I alternate nostrils against my own will.

Moment of Clarity #22 as given to me by Roger Hailes

Its weird having an afro because people can always tell when you've had a nap.

Womb Syndrome

I have an electric blanket. That makes it very difficult for me to get out of bed. My room is a bit cold and the heaters haven't been turned on. So I snuggle up in my electirc blanketed warm bed and it feels like I'm back in the womb. Warm and wet. Wet because I don't get up to use the bathroom.

Its getting cold, but I haven't said it out loud. Not because I haven't noticed, but because i'm saving it for the right time. I'm saving my words for the time when it gets so cold no one can deny it anymore. I'm waiting for the time when it really needs to be said because no one in New York ever brings attention to the fact its cold. You'll never hear a New Yorker utter the words "Its getting cold" or "Boy, is it cold" or "Cold enough for ya?" No one ever acknowledges that the winter's here are rough. People walk around like there's nothing wrong. Only I have the courage to bring attention to the elephant in the room.

So that way when I'm standing in the street with someone and we are shivering and our teeth are chattering and we're turning some shade of purple (the black version of turning blue) and icickles are forming on our face like we're trapped in a freezer in a cartoon, I'll finally look up into the sky and say "Fuck! Its Fucking cold!" And I'll go inside with the warmth of knowing someone said it.

$16.39

That's right, ladies. That's how much is in my bank account. I'm a high roller. I know looking at a number like that makes you all hot and bothered. You look at that and it makes you feel thing and say things like you just jumped out of a Tennessee Williams play -

"My my my! It is a sultry day indeed. Of course the humidity comes from my animal lust for you and your light wallet. Small - like a man's ought to be to make room for his pockets to be filled with other things."

$802.23

That's my cellphone bill. Jealous!??!

I know I know. My life is something to be envied. Not everyone can ring up bills that ridiculous. It takes patience, practice but more importantly it takes passion. You have to really want to not have a phone to make a bill so high you can't afford it.

"But, Baron, my cellphone is my only phone. Its the only way people can reach me directly"

Well, you're an ass. Its not cool to be reached directly. That's why there are no other inventions that connect you to other people. If we were meant to talk to one another, we'd have things like IM, text messaging, email, sidekicks, blackberries and of course phones. But really, who uses any of those?"

"I see. How do I get what you have?"

I'm glad you asked. First don't keep track of your minutes. Call lots of people during the daytime and go way way over your allowance. You are charged $0.40 per minute over your allowance. So the more you talk the more your total. After that, don't pay it for 3 months. With the overcharge and the late fees, you might make it near what I have. But don't expect to reach that sum on your first try. I'm a professional idiot. (Here's a tip. Spend lots of time really listening to all the options or every automated service you can find.)

Like I said I'm a pro. I also just achieved a new goal of mine. I had an audition today. I woke up 3 and a half hours to show up 10 minutes late to the wrong address. Rescheduled?
Yeah.

Bad Impression?
You know it!!

funny/experimental/original

If you are reading this and live in NYC you must come to "Tell You Friends" tonight. One of the most amazing comics I've ever seen is doing the show - EDDIE PEPITONE. He is quite unique and it'll be an experience indeed. Come along for the ride. See side bar for details.

unicorn rap

Becky Poole asked me to do her unicorn themed sketch show the other day becuz I told her I would write a rap about unicorns. Its the origins of a hunter. Here it is..

Redirect your eyes and I apologize I’m gonna tell you a story
When I get to the details about entrails it might get a little gory
I saw something bout a week ago it was really gross I’ve been feeling forlorn
Cuz I saw a grown male get impaled by a mothahfuckin unicorn
First let me get on the level they were made by the devil and I tell you that evil by the Master
And they’re cute to boot so freak and run when you see one cuz they’re gonna reek Disaster
Don’t try to pet em or feed em cuz you’re palms start bleeding indeed that’s called stigmata
And they smell it, slim, i said its candy to them (okay?) and you’re the piñata
I’m came to comprehend it, I was drinking with a descendant of the ancient druids
Mixin drops of schnapps lager and water with all kinds of mystic fluids
And he said “hey man” right in the middle of our drinking binge
“You know my grandfather 83 was one of the ones that built Stone Henge?”
I said “no” and he said “yeah – that is wizard nobility”
“And there’s a treasure passed down which is now my responsibility”
“I’d like to show you something and it is kind a secret,”
“But before we go to see promise me that you can keep it.”
I said “Man, I hope I ain’t gonna end up dead in a mothahfuckin car trunk”
“taken advantage of and forced to forbidden love cuz I was really fucking drunk”
and he said “no, man, I got a plan, stan, I’m really being serious…
what’s more once you see what we I got in store for you you’re gonna be delirious”
So we set out in the darkest hours, there were scattered showers
And we persisted up a bitch of twisted mountains roads for hours
It was 3 in the morning feeling uneasy and queasy it wasn’t gonna yield
Right before I passed out we stopped in the middle of a field
We got out I thought I would freeze it was 40 degrees not to mention the tress
Surrounding us looking ominous reaching up like they were begging please
And I wanted to scoot saw him take a flute and he blew but there no sound
I looked down to frown looked up was astounded they all around
Unicorns, white horses with the single horn but they had blood red eyes
Leering at us, sneering at us I felt a fear in my inner thighs
And my friend said “uh oh fuck we’re outta luck it didn’t work.”
“We got about 10 seconds I reckon before they go beserk.”
So we ran and they chased us snapping their jaws wanting to taste us.
Was this my fate? They wanted us on a plate ever since they faced us.
I ran as fast as I can what can I say made it back to car.
I yelled for my friend but this was the end he didn’t make it as far.
And I watched in horror as they pierced his gut, pierced his throat and chest.
Blood shooting out like a geyser as they ripped his flesh.
But he reached out let out a shout while they ate him alive
“Don’t go for help, save yourself!” and that’s how I survived.
So I made a vow to everyone its not so fun I won’t stop til I’m done,
Ridding the world of every unicorn boy and girl with my sword and my gun.
Cuz now they’re loose to seduce you into traps with their magical beauty
I’ll destroy them all until I fall and that’s the story of my duty.

My First Time

I talked to my ex from high school recently and she reminded me about my first time. I had completely forgotten it since I do it all the time now and have gotten good at it. Or at least I don't fumble as much as I did then.

I recalled it last night while hanging out with Jesse Joyce and he asked me how long i'd been doing it. I told him and as someone who has been doing it less than 5 years I also talked about how long I'd been planning on doing it, how I wrote jokes and did routines for my friends before I actually ever did it at a club on stage in front of people who didn't know me. Then I recalled a conversation with my old girlfriend (who is still one of my best friends), Daneal, in which she totally jogged my memory.

My senior year of high school I was involved in this project where they let 4 students direct one act plays for an evening of theatre. Somehow I became the stage manager and board operator and at the few shows we had I went onstage, made some announcements and warmed them up with a few jokes. Keep in mind I've always been a jukebox of comedian's bits. I can do at least 5 minutes of almost every comic I know in NYC. And back then Comedy Cental (which was HA!) had shows like "The A List" "Dr Katz" and various specials from which I soaked up jokes and regurgitated them to my friends with my own twist.

I told jokes around the theme of "travel" and did a joke by Marc Maron, Emo Phillips, Anthony Clark and Eddie Izzard in that order. Of course, I paraphrased greatly.

Maron:
I read in the paper the other day about these two guys who would shoot steroids and work out multiple times a week. Like this was their ritual and one day one of them goes temporarily insane, decides he's strong enough to stop a moving car, goes to the freeway to do so and dies in the process. Now, if out take out how morbid this is, you have a very funny situation. I mean where were his friends when he was like "AAAH! To hell with these machines...i'm gonna go stop a moving car." They were totally oblvious to that? "Okay. do you need a spot?" So imagine you're driving down the freeway after work maybe listening to some music and all of a sudden this huge hulking figure comes out of no where and thrusts "AAAAAAAARRRGH!" And you go BOOM - right over him. What do you say to the cops? "Yeah...uh...I just ran over a super hero. Um...i'm not sure which one, he wasn't wearing his costume. What? Tell him to move the car - he couldn't STOP the car! Come scrape Spidey up!"

Emo:
I like to travel. I went to Hawaii and it was nothing like i thought. I thought people would be wearing grass skirts and coconut halves on their breasts, but i was the only one.

Clark:
I went to the vatican city. I'm looking at the vatican and i notice this lady all in black staring at me from across the street with a baby. And she's got 2 grown up kids too - all in black. Out of nowhere she throws the baby at me. Just throws it - lobs it through the air. I'm like OH MY GOD I HAVE TO CATCH THIS BABY! I position myself to catch it and as I am her bigger kids run across the street and pick my pockets. Take my cash, credits cards, traveler checks - everything - and then they are gone and i'm standing there with a baby. So...you know...let that be a travelling tip for you. If a women throws a baby at you, just swat it to the ground swat it and go "I DON'T THINKK SO!"

I'll leave out the Izzard joke. Its more well known now. About Neil Armstrong's speech on the moon which I saw him do on Comic Relief before his HBO special that broke him to American audiences. So there you have it. I followed in the footstep of many comics before me that copied someone else before them. Bill Hicks who did Woody Allen bits. Damon Wayans and Eddie Murphy who copied Pryor. Pryor who copied Cosby. I just hope someday a high schooler who doesn't know he's a comic yet will tell my jokes to his friends.

:-)

Watching two women who seem to be old friends having a great time, even though one speaks very little English, just made my day.

Moment of Clarity #21

Its interesting that the troubadours of old sang songs of love with an instrument called the "lyre." Don't read the word. Say it. "Lyre."

Stop Staring!

I was walking around today listening to my portable CD player. That's right a portable CD player. I don't have an iPod. People with iPod kept staring at me like I was an attraction at a 1800s freak show.

"Come and see the 90s Negro! He can't afford an iPod and listens to different magical discs that only have 13 tracks of the same artist. He can only carry a few around with him! What a wondrous horrible creature! Witness him deal with scratches and CD stores!"

Its a CD player! People look at me like I'm carrying around an 8 track player plugged into a Victrola powered by a hamster chasing a piece of lettuce in a running wheel that I motivate with a tiny whip that is also a lightening rod in case the hamster tires or dies. I guess its just nice to know that I can add "iPodless" to a the growing list of things people use to discriminate. Yay! More options for living, more options for hatred.

I don't understand.

Somehow I've lost a $300 suit that was tailored to fit me perfectly and was given to me for free. Its like I'm Bush and the suit is...er...uh...I got nothing.

Worship It

My bathtub is so clogged that the backed up water takes forever to drain after a shower. So I've been taking showers with my feet in water that's days old. But I say to myself, well it's no worse the the Ganges and that's a holy place. So if anyone wants to worship and pray in my bathtub, you know how to find me.

Revealing

I was just reorganizing my CD collection which brings me great pleasure. (yes, CDs. I don't have an iPod and don't really want one). I take my collection very seriously because it and my books are only real things I own and have cultivated. I thought it might be reavealing to share a few things about my collection since you can learn a lot about a person by what they listen to. So I thought I'd show you everything in my "j" and "s" section. I organize in alphabetical order by artist name and date of release for the same artist (certain aesthetic excpetions apply). If there is a BLANK. Its because I lent that one out or lost it and want to get another copy.

--"S" Section--

Sade -
Diamond Life,
Promise,
BLANK (insert of "Best of Sade"),
Stronger Than Pride,
Love Deluxe,
Lovers Rock (Yes, that's all of them)

Save Ferris -
It Means Everything,
Modified

Franz Schubert - 3 CD Compilation

Skypark - Overbluecity (have never listened to)

Snoop Dogg - Rhythm and Gangsta

Styx -
Lady,
Greatest Hits

Sublime - 40 oz. to Freedom

The O.C. Supertones - Chase the Sun (never listen to)

Swayzak - Himawari

--"J" Section--

Michael Jackson -
Off the Wall,
BLANK (Thriller),
Dangerous

Keith Jarrett - The Melody at Night, With You

Jamiroquai - Return of the Space Cowboy

The Jayhawks - Smile (only ever listen to the 1st song)

Jay-Z -
The Blueprint,
The Black Album

Antonio Carlos Jobim - Personalidade

Quincy Jones - From Q with Love (double disc)

So there you have it. I'm like a lot of different stuff yo!

Moment of Clarity #20

Women find honesty mysterious.

Moment of Clarity #19

I don't like my crooked teeth because they match my soul.

Ego Boost - Old Fashioned Google

I was in a book store the other day and saw a book called "Best of Broadway 2004." I've seen this book before. Its an encyclopedia of pretty much the entire theatre season for whatever year it says. I thought to myself "Hey, I was on Broadway in 2004." So I turned to the index and sure enough behold my name was lo. I felt good about that. Then I bombed last night. So that keeps me in check. Its all about checks and balances.

PS. A stripper or hooker named Chastity is always funny.

Postmodern Teen Angst

A snippet of a conversation 2 teenage girls had next to me on the R train on Sunday afternoon. These two girls were having a rather passionate debate over what one of them should do with their lives. She really likes creative writing, but has the test scores to become a biologist, doctor or lawyer. Listening to these girls talk was like every sardonic, informed teenager cliche' rolled into one big stew.

1st GIRL
It's a Dog Eat Dog world! You have do to something important that has some sort of impact on humaanity! That has meaning!

2nd GIRL
How do you know writing isn't important or has meaning to me?

1st GIRL
Ok, fine! Waste your life trying to be a professional writer! (then something about when she fails how I'll have told you so but more dramatic and erudite. I believe the word "doom" was used)

2nd GIRL
Who said I wanted to be a professional writer? I'm way too materialistic to pursue that. I told you that.

It took a great deal of strength to not reach out and shake them mercilessly. I had to make myself remember it doesn't look good to a passer-by to see a black man angrily shaking too teenage girls while yelling "You shouldn't exist!" Yeah, that'd be hard to explain.

Stories of Taxicabs and Such

I was watching HBO the other day and they had on "Taxicab Confessions" which is a show where people spill their guts to a chatty cab driver while hidden cameras soak up the whole thing. It was the New York edition which was hilarious to me. I mean if you get in a cab in New York and you have an American driver that speaks perfect English doesn't that tell you something is amiss?

I've been taking a lot of cabs lately so I wanted to start a new series of stories where I share some of my cab experiences.

I've been out late a lot recently. I hate it. I don't wanna take the train that late because the wait is unbearable and i'm afraid i'll fall asleep standing and wake up on the tracks. So I do this magical thing called taking a cab home. Its magical because it turns 20 dollars in my wallet to 3. Ooooh. Aaaaaah.

Most of the time I can usually fool a yellow cab into taking me home late at night, but sometimes I'll be leaving home and i end up in a Gypsy Cab. For my non NYC readers let me explain...a Gypsy Cab is usually a run down vehicle or a town car in which the driver makes up a exhorbitant price to take you somewhere he doesn't know how to get to.

I once was running late to a gig in Crown Heights, Brooklyn so I hopped in a Gypsy cab with friend and cohort Josh Grosvent. We went from Queens to Brooklyn, but something felt wrong. The driver asked what street I was going to and I said Eastern Parkway. So he became fixated on finding Eastern Parkway not realizing that streets are long and can go across a whole city. Finding one part of it doesn't really get me to where I wanna go. "Yeah driver, just any part of that road will do. Doesn't matter where. You know what? Anyway part of a road that has a similar name will do." Josh and I knew something was wrong when he got on the Long Island Expressway and we passed Shea Stadium. Once again, for you non-New Yorkers, its like if you were in Louisiana and wanted to go to Florida, but you were headed toward Pennslyvania and you see the Liberty Bell and are like "huh?" (look at a fucking map)

So we're in a part of NY we've never been to and do not know. Josh and I are looking around seeing people wearing burquas and parkas. It was very confusing. Street signs aren't even words just cave drawings of mythical beasts shot up with arrows and spears. We have no clue where we are. The cab driver finally asks someone directions which he didn't understand so the nice (but frustrated) man said, "Just follow me. I'm going that way!"

So we finally got to where we were going after being taken a half an hour out of our way. The best part though is being charged $30 to get lost. I paid it. I didn't want to argue. I just wanted to get out that nasty hot ass cab and get to a place where everybody knows my name and they're always glad I came. So the moral of the story is...well, there is no moral...just FUCK Gypsy Cabs!

Planet X

So they found another planet in our solar system. A 10th planet! Of course, that ignites the debate of if Pluto is a planet or not as we all know and have discussed voraciously with friends, neighbors, clergy and town officials. I mean its just common sense. Mike Brown (who has an asteroid named after him - don't worry someone else named it after him not himself you judgemental bastard) discovered the planet and nicknamed it "Xena." Yes as in "warrior princess." When asked why, he said the show was his favorite when he started the search and that females are under-represented in planetary nomenclature. Yes, Mike Brown, what better way to excite and involve women in the solar system than naming a planet after a mythic lesbian warrior that had a show on FOX? Good going!! I guess the women that actually did watch Xena are probably the same 10 women that are interested in the 10th planet. The only other suitable female names are Oprah and Hilary. Either of those would have passed with flying colors. Not Condoleeza though. That's a constellation. Don't know why, but that's funny.

Oh Shit. Time to get Raw.

A gross metaphor from last night. I was hanging out with actor, Eric Anderson and comedian Eric Thomas and for some reason we were talking about having the runs (probably because we were standing in McDonald's) and I was saying that I have amazing sphincter control and I can hold the runs until I get home, but once i get home to a toilet I recognize (here it is) its like someone blowing a trumpet full of chocolate milk. Then I mimed the trumpet and made trumpet sounds. Yeah, you're never gonna think about Jazz and Nestle Quick in the same way again.

Since I ate McD's last night I needed to go this morning. I went to the Sheraton Hotel today and I went to the men's room. It was a lot grosser than I expected so I used my aformentioned skill until I got home (Sphincter Powers Activate!). But while I was in there I looked at the bathroom door and in very loving letters was written "Give a Nigger a Job, He Fucks it up Everytime." I hope he was talking about Condoleeza! Oh! My favorite thing though was that it was written a few times on various places of the door which could mean a variety of things.

1) Someone rubbed off the older ones because they could write it better.
2) The older ones faded naturally and someone decided to write it again so it could be passed down to younger generations.
3) The original author scrubbed them himself because he was disappointed with the way the letters turned out or didn't feel the message was really their in the earlier drafts. Or...
4) They wanted to make sure you really understood what was being said so they wrote it multiple times for emphasis like a piece of poetry or an expressionist word painting.

Regardless of the reason, I thought to myself does the women's room have stuff like this up? You never hear about weird racist or sexist shit written on the female bathroom walls. Maybe the occasional "Jenny's a slut" but never "For a good time call Earl" or "Niggers and Spics have too many kids!" In my experience, when a women feels a degree of racism, they go have sex with someone of that race. Some of my best relationships started that way. I guess the moral of the story is I'm doing my part to end racism, one vagina at a time. So when you see me with a white girl, give my a thumbs up or pat on the back and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

Any thoughts ladies?

Moment of Clarity # 17 and #18

17
People who say "You don't know me! You don't know anything about me!" are people that nobody really wants to know about.

18
Chivalry is not dead. However, it is on life support in a hospital in New Jersey. See, it opened a door for a few neighborhood ruffians and one said "What? You trying to say I'm a woman, ya punk bitch!" Shot's were fired. Chivalry is not dead, but it's on its last leg. As little as 5 cents a day can help. As much as you would pay for a cup of coffee in the 50's can help Chivalry get back on its feet and be fully alive again.

Oh really?

Oh really lady sitting next to me on the subway? My arm accidentally hits you once and that makes you feel uneasy? I got news for you. IT'S THE FUCKING SUBWAY AND ITS RUSH HOUR! THERE'S NO ROOM FOR PERSONAL SPACE!

I think its funny when people get offended. It's such a pointless and cliche' emotion. Also a bit outdated. Someone telling me they're offended by something is like them telling me they just crossed the country on a pogo stick: I don't really see why because there's no real reason, but I guess you had something to prove to youself and you wanted attention. Its pointless and whimsical. It's like someone telling me they woke up early this morn to churn the butter for Jedediah so that he may be strong to raise the barn and so God will be with him when he goes into town. I find it "cute."

PS.
One of my favortie places in New York is the Southeast corner of Central Park. I love that strech of 59th street because its full of expensive hotels and posh people desperately trying to ignore the rancid stench of horse shit in the air.

It's Here

www.baronvaughn.com

Beautiful.

Knowledge, Bitches!! / Moment of Clarity #16

Here's a few books that I've recently read or am currently reading that'll shake up how you think about some things.

Mediated by Thomas De Zengotita

Blink and The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell

Freakonomics by Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner

The Mating Mind by Geoffrey Miller

Emotional Intelligence by Daniel Goleman

Frames of Mind: The Theory of Multiple Intelligences by Howard Gardner

Confessions of an Economic Hit Man by John Perkins

The Age of Spiritual Machines by Ray Kurzweil

and that bring me too the Moment of Clarity. This is a line in my Current solo show.

"The reason I like juice from concentrate is because they really thought about it."

Moment of Clarity #15

When it is hot and you are black, its hard to tell what is sweat and what is lotion.

"Am I perspiring or is that my post shower cocoa butter with aloe vera?"

Rachel Kramer Bussel's Article

RKB just wrote an article on The Sex Lives of Comedians. I have a short blurb in there that is somewhere is between mildly funny and somewhat clever. Check it.

Moment of Clarity #14

I would have liked to be there when Jason Hellman's, Dan Best Foods, and Jacob Miracle Whip had lunch together and unanimously exclaimed "What this sandwich is missing is SUGARY LARD!!"

i hope this makes women even more self concious about their bodies

When i'm on the subway and i see a girl with a short skirt on i think
"Mmm. I can't wait to get behind her on the exit stairs"

A good line for something.

A good line for a script of some sort.

"Yeah you're not really judgemental because you're so egoccentric. It's hard to criticize others when you only talk about yourself."

When Oh When?

A lof of cab drivers live in my neighborhood. I've been seeing more and more cabs parked in front of place late at night and into the day. I've been waiting for this to happen...

DRIVER
Where are you going?

ME
Um...I'm going to Queens, 30th St and Broadway in Astoria?

DRIVER
No Way! That is where I live!

ME
Oh?

DRIVER
Yes! We are neighbors! We are friends now!

ME
Uh...

DRIVER
Yes! We must go for coffee during day and play the basketball, eh?

ME
I...

DRIVER
HAHA! We are now best of friends. You come over we play X-Box?

ME
Not sure if that would be a good idea.

DRIVER
Why not? I am neighbor! We have good fun time together. Hey, you must meet my daughter. She is beautiful. She is just at right age to be married. She make you good wife!

ME
Whoa whoa whoa...I'm not marrying anyone just yet - gotta picture?

DRIVER
Yes! Here. Here is picture. Beatiful yes.

ME
What the...?! This girl is like 15!!

DRIVER
13, but give her some time and she will be ripe for marriage, eh? Know what I mean ripe?

ME
Yo, man, you're talking about your own daughter!

DRIVER
What is problem? She is woman! Woman have needs! I am modern man: I can not deny this.

ME
Dude, just take me where I want to go.

DRIVER
HEY! I know where fuck you live!

ME
What?

DRIVER
Where you live! I know where you live! You don't fuck with me! I come and find you and cut off balls with shank and give them to my daughter as necklace.

ME
Come to think of it, X-Box is quite relaxing. And your daughter is quite the looker.

DRIVER
She is gorgeous, my friend.

ME
That's what I meant: gorgeous. So grown up for her age.

DRIVER
You make me happy, friend neighbor! Hey, I no charge you for this. I'll say I was going home. You come for dinner yes?

ME
Now? Tonight?

DRIVER
Where did I put shank?

ME
Of course i'm coming. Looking forward to it.

DRIVER
Good! Can not wait to show my wife her new son in law!

Yes the last post was long...

Deal with it. Its over now. Anyway, I seem to have 10 days left until I do my one man show. IN a world littered with one person shows, I can only hope mine will be remotely interesting.

Read about it. Even though this isn't what its about.

Here's the schedule. The 30th and 31st have been cancelled.

Get a ticket. Yes, I said you gotta get tickets. Pay up, son!

Goin Strong

Since Saturday I've had a very interesting comedy schedule. Here's a little diary of it all. Warning: I will name drop a bunch of comics.

On Saturday
I meet fellow comic Jen Dziura to talk about comedy over food at a place in the East Village called Dojo. We seem to hit it off pretty well and talked about many different thing indeed. I convince her to go to a 12:30am show at Gotham Comedy Club where we end up seeing Lenny Marcus, Robin Montague, Russ Meneve and Dwayne Perkins. Great show. The crowd was huge. It was 12:30am on a saturday and the place was packed. I was surprised that the staff at Gotham recognized me and knew my name. My ego rested at proper size.

Sunday
Went to the Pro Shop at Sin Sin. I got there late so I missed the great talent of Mizzes Rachel Feinstein and Karith Foster. Eric Kirchberger was on stage when I walked in and the audience was loving him. I noticed that Ms. Dziura was there in the audience with her boyfriend. I had mentioned the show to her and quite pleased that she has come. I sat with the comics and watched them go over there notes. Well only Ophira was. Dan Newbower sat patiently waiting to close the show and Blaine Perry waited at the bar for he was next. The show ended with a Lukewarm response to Mr. Newbower's set which was surprising to me because the first time I saw him I howled. I was happy he was there because I had been wanting to give him more stage time. The audience got strangely sensitive toward the end of the night and took it out on Dan. Fuck 'em I say. Afterwards, I chatted outside with Jen, Ophira, Dan and Elon until the luscious Rachel Kramer Bussel came over with some cupcakes. I ended up walking Rachel to the L train and riding out to Williamsburg with her (I was meeting a friend). The surprise of the night was James Smith an Australian comic on his way to Montreal for the festival. He was brilliant.

Monday
Ripple Bar. Ripple has become a difficult crowd. They still like me though. Maybe because they liked me before they were jaded. The regulars seem to think the show is about hating the comics now and they intimidate the new audience member's from reacting. Mr. Larry Bailey was strong as usual. Ray Rivera was first. Lukewarm response. Then my friend Josh Grosvent. He did not have his guitar which he usually uses and did straight stand up. That's when the hatred really started. Needless to say he was a little shaked afterwards. Then a gentle named Remy got up and played with the crowd a bit which they loved but then he started his material and they stared at him. That's when I realized that audience had become arrogant and expected the show to be about them the entire time. The wanted continous crowd work and nothing else. Elon went up and did crowd work and some material. He did quite well. Then Roger Hailes closed out the show. He committed to his ideas and premises and the crowd eventually came with him. I took the train back with Mike Cotayo, Josh and my friend Chanelle and we talked about what the deal is with that room now. I said the room used to be great, but now that its commonplace, people take it for granted. It was confusing for us because it was like a couple fighting. The audience wanted something else and we wanted it to be like the good ol days. Indeed. The only real laughs I got were at the end when I thanked the audience at the end for "making this a Stand Up tragedy Show. I know a lot of you were waiting for my to poke out my eyes. Fuck you." They laughed. I still regard it as a bomb.

Tuesday
Jen Dziura calls me saying she has tickets for the Daily Show and do I want to go. FUCK YEAH! Wem meet up at 3:30ish and wait in line for 2 and a half hours (This is after Jen had already been on a waiting list for 6 months). They open the doors and herd us into a small holding room. Quite claustrophobic indeed. On the way in, I notice Todd Levin and salute him. He salutes back. After a 20 minutes wait in the holding room, we are let into the studio. To watch the show. Drew Fraser warm up the audience. He is the warm up man. Every TV comedy taping I've been to, he is the warm up man. When I went to see Premium Blend and the HBO tapings, he was there. he introduces Mr. Jon Stewart who take and Q&A session and riffs with the audience for a bit. Jon Stewart simply is fucking hilarious. the show begins. Quite a surreal post modern experience. Even though we are actually i nthe studio with the real Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert not far from us, most people end up watching the TV monitors hanging from the ceiling that show was is going to be broadcast. It was realer to us to watch the TV even though were were at the real event. Also, there were no bad seats. Everyone had a clear view on Jon and the TV's were far away enough that he looked the same in person and on the box. Interesting indeed. Tv was realer than the real. Only in 2005.
I ruch to Williamburg afterwards for my show. Feeling good about some material i had written that day we start the show. I get a few laughs but nothing special. I regard it as a bomb. However, Dante Nero, Karith Foster, Benari Poulten, Susan Prekel and Roger Hailes destroyed. I think it was our 2nd best show there. The audience could not get enough of Susan Prekel. They would have followed her into the bowels of Hades after her set. HADES!

Wednesday
The Cobble Hill show. It was intense. The crowd responded well to most of the comics. Particularly, Dan Allen and James Smith who I thought would have not been well received by an all black crowd. The previous show could be considered the "Chitlin Circuit." So the space was actually double booked with our comic and theirs. I went on last and completely tanked. I went over like the Hindenburg full of anvils and the Weight Watcher's initiation clogging party during a hurricane in the alps. The only other comic who suffered the same fate was Michelle Buteau who was unlucky enough to follow Roz G who ripped that audience a new one. I bombed. Benari showed up at the end of the show and we walked outside because I didn't want to have to face the audience. Dan Allen and I drove back to Queens and talked over a late night Diner Dinner.

SO I bombed/tanked/died three nights in a row. Lovely.

I hope the government doesn't google the word bomb and end up at my door to ask questions. Still, it would feel better than last night.

my grandmother just said this to me...

"I remember when I first saw you and I said that’s a big head. That’s a grown man’s head. You grew into that head. That’s how I knew you’d have some brains."

I love my grandmother.

Moment of Clarity #13 (short sketch)

There must have been a time in the lives of Jim Henson and Frank Oz when their friends would ask them to say stupid shit in the voices of Kermit or Yoda.

FRIEND
Ooh Ooh Frank! Say um...say "You spilled ketchup on my sequin shirt and you've ruined it" as Yoda!

FRANK (as Yoda)
Ketchup you have spilled on my sequin shirt. Ruined it you have.

FRIEND
SHIT THAT IS FUNNY! Hey hey, Jim, say "Miss Piggy likes to get freaky in the bedroom."

JIM
No, I don't want to. This is stupid.

FRIEND
Come on, Jim, don't be a fag!

JIM
I told you no!

FRIEND
DON'T BE A CANDY ASS PUSSY, JIM!

FRANK
Yeah, Jim. I just did Yoda.

JIM
Fine. (as Kermit) "Miss Piggy is a freak in the bedroom..."

FRIEND
She likes whips and chains...

JIM
"...she likes whips and chains..."

FRIEND
And a finger up her porky ass...

JIM
Oh come on! I'm not saying that!

FRIEND and FRANK
DO IT!

Jim
"...and a...and a finger up her porky ass."

FRIEND
HAHAHAHAHA! Dammit that is hilarious. You guys have given a new purpose for my life. You know what? Lunch is on me.

The funniest thing in New York...

As pointed out by my good friend Brendan Hughes, the funniest thing in New York right now is in Union Square. There's a big sign right above the Virgin Megastore that's purpose was to count down the days, hours, minutes, seconds until the Olympic's City Decision (which conviently replaced a sign that showed the growing national debt). For the past few days it has read "00.00.00.00" HAHAHA! That is comedy! When you see it, point at it and laugh! Had a good Guffaw at Bloomberg! Do the same when you see one of those sign that says "There will be friends and friends of friends to guide you." Point and yell "No There won't!! HAHAHA!! I wouldn't doubt if there's a sick part in Mikey's brain going "Bombings in London? Maybe the commitee will change their minds."

Note: The last line is no way making fun of the events in London, but rather the mayor's obsession with getting the Olympics. I just wonder how high on his list of priorities the games are. I ask the question is he holding up his two hands like scales going "Hmm. Tragic loss of human life...me getting my games...loss of life...games"

Ugh. Heimer.

I just saw a roach in my kitchen. I haven't seen a roach in a long time. It was the same experience as the feeling you would have if you had grown up around a crazy kid who annoyed you but always thought he was your best friend and he tracked you down 10 years later and 3000 miles away and demanded to be in your life again. WHY?!?! WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME!?!?

Moment of Clarity #12

The subway has been around for 100 years; people still fall over when the train starts moving.

A Sample

I'm working on a solo show for the Midtown Theatre Festival which has a working title "Actor.Comedian.Negro"
I'm not finished with it yet, but here's a sample because I feel guilty for not posting in a long while. It just an event i ruminated on for a while and i wrote this stream-of-conciousness about it....
__________

Hmm. What? Yeah. My great grandfather was a big man to me. He did bestride this narrow world like a colossus. There was no one that had greater stature then he. Even when I saw with my own eyes people who were taller than him or even wider than him they still didn’t have the presence and the clarity of mind I believe my great grand father had. I use to (as most children do) wrap myself around his legs and to my amazement, he could walk with me there. This was unthinkable to me. This man could carry my entire existence on one leg. One leg, people! One leg. I always wanted him to pick me up because the world was so different to me up there. At his height, a man could survey all his kingdom around.

My sophomore year of college I was in Boston. It was going to be a great summer. I was going to teach at the summer institute giving advice to high school student and relearning from them what it meant to have a spirit and passion for the theatre. I always go back to that so that I can remember why I’m doing this and that passion and deference these kids have for “The Theatre” is unmatched. I was also going to study with one of the great Improv masters, Paul Sills: founder of Second City, Son of Viola Spolin. This was going to be an event filled summer. I was staying in my friend Brandon’s studio apartment that he paid rent for the summer on and I got a Phone call from my mother...

Baron?
Yes?
Papa’s dead.

I froze.
He was gone. This man, this beast, this god to me was gone. I was ok with it. I had felt like I made my peace with him earlier that year. I had become a stereotypical teenager and lost track of those around me who cared about me because I was so focused on the task at hand. I hadn’t called or seen him in ages, but a few weeks maybe a month earlier I had called him and we talked. I told him I was gonna make sure to visit and I appreciated everything he had done for me. I told him I loved him which to me was a lot to say. I think he said “um...ok” and then got off the phone to go back to the care of his live-in nurse that I just found out about. (A live in nurse? He must be sick.) I’m sure he was a little taken aback by what I had said. Not in the overwhelmed way, but more in the “shit motherfucker, I ain’t dead yet” sort of way. I’m sure when he hung up the phone he turned to his nurse a said “Hmm-mm. That boy gay.” I was particularly touchy feely seeing as I was in theatre school learning how to be in the moment and feel my feelings. I also wasn’t sure when I was gonna get a chance to say this to him again. So I said it.

Baron?
Yes?
Papa’s dead.

So this is how we found out he was dead. A family friend called my mother to as why she wasn’t at the funeral.

What Funeral?

They had already buried him and put him in the ground. My grandma (JJ: his daughter), my mom, and myself had no idea he was dead and weren’t at the funeral. My (not so) great Uncle Charles went to New Mexico, organized the funeral, sold all the stuff in the house and left without calling us. He said he tried calling JJ numerous times and never heard back. Needless to say, she was livid.

How the fuck you gon’ bury my daddy without me?
I tried to call, but you weren’t at home.
Bullshit! I’m always home. I’m retired. If the phone rings I would have been there.

Speaking of Great Thinkers...Mr. Paul Mooney

A man finds a bottle and rubs it. A Genie pops out. The Genie says "I've been in there for centuries thank you letting me out. You get 3 wishes. I'm tired of talk - just think them and they will be." So the man thinks and poof: a mansion appears. Poof: naked women running around everywhere. Then poof: the KKK in full garb appear, take the man out and lynch him from a tree. The next day the Genie is at Starbucks talking with other Genies because that's where they drink their coffee. He speaks of the day before. "They all wish for the same thing: the mansion and naked women, but the 3rd wish was so confusing. Why would you want to be hung like a Nigger?"
--Paul Mooney

Tonight I saw Mr Paul Mooney. Comedy Legend. Friend of Richard Pryor. Writer of comedy ranging from Letterman to In Living Color and one of the most intense comedians you will ever see. People either love or hate him because he doesn't bullshit. He puts everything on the table from Race to Politics and is so cutting and insightful that it hurts. Its hurts so much that people leave because they feel offended or attacked. His comedy is piercing, well written, concise, demanding - I could only ever hope to be a fourth of the comic he is. I aspire to punch a person is the face with my words that say "Wake up this is the world we're living" that make you really look at things in a new way. Wow. See him. Whether you hate him or love him you will understand why he is one of the greatest of all time.

Don't you spray paint those walls you little Nigger you Puerto Ricans - that is graffiti! But a white man finds a mountain and puts his face on it. And that's history.--Paul Mooney

Great Thinkers

In “History of the World Part 1" during the segment that took place in ancient Rome. Mel Brooks is standing in an unemployment line that leads up to the clerk played by Bea Arthur. When she asks him what he does, he throws his arms back lifts his chest and exclaims -
“Stand Up Philosopher”
Oh, so you’re a bullshit artist.

Think about that. Comics nowadays are quoted in every day conversations like philosophers. More so. You’ll hear quotes from the great thinkers like Chris Rock, George Carlin, Lenny Bruce, Jerry Seinfeld, Margaret Cho, Bill Cosby, Bill Hicks, Richard Pryor more than you hear the words of Socrates, Aristotle, Plato, Descartes, Sartre, Neitzche, Rand, Heidegger, Kant, and Keirkegaard..

Think about the comics you love and how much you quote them or even when you quote comics you know. Hell, I quote Ellen DeGeneres all the time. YES I’M A STRAIGHT BLACK MAN AND I THINK ELLEN IS A FUCKING GENIUS! FUCK YOU!

Comics are the now the ones who (more so than anybody) take the events and themes of our day and shape them in a way the we can process it with laughter. Laughter helps it go down and what makes us laugh has a stronger possibility of staying in our long term memory (Psych 101). Especially if you agree with it or it makes you see something in a different way. That’s where the comment “it’s funny because its true” comes from. That’s when the audience laughs en masse and people mutter under their breathe “so true, so true.” The news doesn’t do that. It present so called facts. But some Stand ups can arrange the facts in a way that makes you look at them differently. You get a perspective you never thought of. An angle you never considered and you leave changed.

To me it can be more immediate than the theatre. The Theatre has become elitist. We can’t pretend to say that “everyday people” go to it. We can say that those are the roots of theatre. For the people. To tell stories of humanity and such. It also seems to be the credo for every major theatre movement that followed. “We’re doing this for the people, man! Taking it back to the streets!" Still, a comedy room is where you will find people from all walks of life, or at least more divergent walks of life than the theatre nowadays. The direct address quality and informality of a stand up room gives it the potential to become more penetrating, more truthful, more immediate then the Theatre. Even though it is theatre itself. It’s the closest thing we have to the origins of Greek theatre.

That’s what it ws at first. Solo performers telling stories. Active audiences. The passive audience is a new ideal. Its only I’d say about a century old when (as a wiseman once told me), “some motherfucker turned off the lights” that the audience became passive. Waiting for the performers to do everything for them. I believe there should be more of a give and take. I believe that exists now more so in Comedy than any other form. Its right back to Thespis himself....

THESPIS
Hey guys! I just got back from Sparta and boy are my arms tired! I’m telling ya though, the ladies in Sparta really are something...something to be feared and run away from! Wow, can we take up a collection and buy these ladies necks or what? Seriously, they’re scary! Anyway, enough of me. We got a young up and comer here for you tonight. Fresh off a stint at the Solo Hole in Athens...Sophocles!

SOPHOCLES
Hey! Alright! Thank you. Thank you very much! Round of applause for your host, Thespis. Working hard so the Gods don’t get mad! Lets get right to it...we all know this story...that’s right I’m talking bout Oedipus. Poked his Mom and then poked out his eyes. Now really, is that gonna solve the problem? I mean if there’s a body part you’re gonna punish for the crime, I doubt its above the neckline let alone the waistline. I mean, what’s his logic here? As long as I don’t see what’s on it, I’m not responsible? Come on!

Moment of Clarity #11

The debate really needs to start being about whether or not having sex with your own clone makes you gay.

its amazing how'll much i'll do to not do

It really is. I've been avoiding writing for the last 4 days. I wake up every morning thinking to myself "I gotta write!" Then I make up ways to avoid doing something that I love for something I love. Interesting. They say "the hardest part of writing is beginning." They also say "it takes more energy to not do your homework than it does to do it." And course they said "why ask why? Try Bud Dry."

I'm happy to be writing this. Its been hard because I've got "From a Distance" by Bette Midler and "Idiot Boyfriend" by Jimmy Fallon stuck on loop in my head. One of those songs on their own has enough power to cripple a Yeti, so you can imagine how I feel.

The other night I had one of the strangest IM conversations I've ever had. (IM has been a contributor to me not writing) I thought it was an old high school friend of mine named Sarah. I quickly learned it was not and then proceeded to have some sort of psuedo cyber sex thing. I don't know who this is. I don't even know if it was a guy or girl. Well, read on...

ME: hello?

HER: hello?

ME: wow you actually wrote back. usually i get your away message - "fuck you, baron"

HER: this actually isnt sarah

ME: oh. well this is now awkward

HER: she was signed on on my computer

ME: ah. hope i didn't offend with my profanity. i'm very vulgar, you dont even know!

HER: its all good

ME: coo. you black?

HER: no

ME: haha, sorry. i got excited for a split second. ok i'll leave you alone

HER: lol. sorry to dissapoint

ME: its ok. we can't all be perfect

HER: im white and blond. but I guess im not your type now. well i love black stallions

ME: haha

HER: and dont tell my mom :-)

ME: i'm a stallion now. i like this

HER: i gotta say I'm picky about men. they have to be able to take it a little rough. so you better be able to back up the stallion

ME: well it depends what you mean by stallion

HER: as in hung like a

ME: hmm. well...

HER: taking a long time to think about it eh. not a good sign
(yeah people with big dicks don't think. they just blurt shit out as fast as they can -BV)

ME: i don't have much experience with other penises. but i've been told I'm a stallion. i say that because to be is to be perceived

HER: your mom doesnt count

ME: hey OOOHH (Ed McMahon).you're funny

HER: i try

ME: i'm hilarious, but you're funny

HER: not all blonds are dumb :-)

ME: never said they were (sure, they all have online chats with strange men -BV)

HER: well lets see how clever you are...can you describe yourself in a way that turns me on

ME: go ahead

HER: but only using food terms

ME: well girl (I don't even hesitate -BV)

HER: terms that have to do with food, its preperation, or its consumption

ME: i don't exactly know how you expect to to "produce" what you need, but seriously, if your oven is ready i got something for it

HER: i know it sounds cooky, BUT a really slick guy can do it

ME: make sure you preset it. it needs to be hot

HER: 3/10 so far (what is that? a score or the number of references i must make? -BV)

ME: of course I'll use a mitten. i'm always protected. but yeah you know i just wanna spread butter on you sheet girl

HER: im not good at it

ME: grease it up nice like

HER: ok now im a little too excited

ME: cause we cooking with gas. with all burners. you know, i just gotta sautee with your sauce, but don't worry

HER: theres something about the thought of a marble statue and food that makes me really turned on. (Yeah, put an apron on Michaelangelo's David and she will cream herself -BV) im too excited i need to calm down. good night

ME: my souffle won't fall

WHAT THE...?! I LAUGHED MY ASS OF AFTERWARDS!! I CAN"T BELIEVE I ACTUALLY WENT THROUGHT WITH IT! DAMN I'M GOOD!

I just got schooled...

...by Moody McCarthy and Dan Allen. No me gusta. I learned that I'm not really out of shape. To be out of shape, you have be in some sort of shape in the first place. I'm more of a physical amoeba: no real definition and a gooey consistency.

Oh what a blow to the black ego to be stomped by 30something white guys named Dan and Moody. This is why I have a sense of humor. I was always the impress-you-with-my-quick-wit-talk-about-yo-mama-run-from-a-fight kind of negro, not the take-you-to-the-hole-mess-you-up-if-you-talk-bout-my-mama-look-at-my-biceps kind of negro. I realize this makes me sad.

Its been a while since I've played. Remember White Men Can't Jump? That's what people looked like last time I played. You could tell by my lingo...
"He's got hops!"
"Mess up his cravat!"
"54 40 or fight!"

I'ma work out. I'ma get bigger. I'ma get faster. I'ma get a shape. Then Dan and Moody have got it comin'

just the slightest bit disturbing (rant)

I went to the Museum of Sex the other day. Yes. I know. I'm a man about town. Indeed. Its quite an interesting place and one of the few places in NYC where you can look at a magazine with "dirty pictures" or as Helms and Strom would say "filth masquerading as art" without someone over your shoulder disgusted with you. Indeed.

((*note: of course Helms and Strom means Jesse Helms and Strom Thurmond. Although it does sound like a great name for a Modern Conservative Vaudeville Team...
HELMS: What do you call an elephant that's late for a job interview?

STROM: I don't know, but I sure hate Niggers! (roaring laughter)

HELMS: Me too, me too...I mean seriously, they haven't been useful since the good ol' cotton picking days! (Strom starts barking and foaming from the mouth) Oops! I forgot references to those days make you rabid!

BOTH: Ha Cha Cha Cha!))

I was at the museum looking at the Stag Film exhibit. It was a historical recount of how porn films came to be. Back in the day, there were low grade movies of hardcore sex (dating back to 1915) and groups of men would get together to watch them while they drank and had a good time. The Stag Party was born.

They had the screens on the ground and the projectors on the ceiling. You had to walk around this dark room and look down over the action. If you looked around, you could see groups of people gathered around the screens with the light of the film just barely illuminating their faces. It felt gross.

As the day went on, it got more and more crowded and that's when I noticed a woman pushing a baby in a carriage. WHAT THE...? A baby, surrounded by hardcore sex films. I mean yeah, that's how the baby got here, but still. Then I had a strange sense of relief. I knew the baby couldn't see. Everything was blurry to it and even if not, it didn't know what was going on. For some reason, that gave me closure.

Still I'm not saying let's sit every baby in front of a porn movie, but we can't hide these facts from them forever. We kind of treat children like they're little retarded time bombs that have no way of comprehending the things they see. If we're not their to sheild them, their precious little heads explode and we have to clean it up. Here's my thing. Its seems when we sheild them, it create a taboo. Taboo creates curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat. Or made the kid grow up to try something they don't really know about because their parents were too scared to say something which results in some sort of horrible horrible tragedy usually a lot worse than whatever was being kept from them. Sorry, to get after school special on yo ass, but seriously folks.

So maybe that woman will let their baby grow up to see porn. And the kid will be like "what's that?" And the mother will actually sit down and talk to him/her about it. And (god forbid) be frank and answer questions about this thing the kid won't be able to stop thinking about when puberty comes. Perhaps it'll demystify some things. And maybe just maybe a functional relationship might blossom between child and parent. And when the kid is a teen maybe just maybe s/he'll trust (god forbid) that parent. Cynics?

Hip Hop Theatre

Yo, son...

I just went to the free gala opening of the Hip Hop Theatre Festival which is this week June 11 - June 18. It was invigorating. It was inspirational. As cliche' as it may sound, it was amazing seeing all different kinds of people coming together to create art that represented the culture and world we now live in. Yes, we can gain new meaning in these times of war from another production of Henry V, but why not create a new piece in which your entire arsenal of skill can be incorporated. It represents a "taking back" from the Institution what we call "the theatre." By the way, I'll be premiering my own solo piece this summer in the Midtown Theatre Festival. Watch out for it one person who reads this or as I call you "Mom."

I Wish...

I wish I had something to say.

I do realize this: I need more material that starts with "I was walking down the street..."

This is the only way I want to be seen by the public - as a man on the go! No more jokes that start with "I was sitting" or "As I lay in bed last morning" or "I was relaxing in the bubble bath the other day when" NO MORE! No more weaving images of myself as a dashing young negro who never uses his legs for he is too busy soaking them. That's exactly what we need less of! We need less of these negative stereotypical generalizations of black people always "getting a back rub" or "luxuriating at a day spa" or "receiving a pore cleansing mudbath and seawed wrap" BASTARDS!

I was walking down the street the other day with a friend of mine. It was late, like 1:30 in the morning. I was walking her to her apartment in the west 30s when a woman approached us. I had noticed this woman seemed to be frantically searching for something. She came over to us and in her accent she asked "Have you seen this man over there?" and pointed toward 8th Ave. Notice how specific she was. Not "have you seen this man?" but "have you seen this man over there?" She'd showed the picture and there was a surprised looking white man (she was black) with round rimmed glasses and what appeared to be a chicken on his head. A chicken. Just sitting there. On his head.

I said "Have we seen him over there?" I pointed to 8th.

"Yes," said she.

"Nope."

This is the best part. After I said no, she looked me up and down with the utmost disgust and searched my eyes to see if I was lying! Not even a quick scan. A good long stare! She could not believe I hadn't seen him and then left us. TRUST ME. I DIDN'T SEE HIM. EVEN THOUGH THIS IS NEW YORK, I WOULD'VE REMEMBERED A GUY WEARING A CHICKEN ON HIS HEAD.

Maybe its because I specified 8th Ave. Maybe she knew I had seen him somewhere, but not where she suggested. Maybe she saw my not so subtle wink to my friend who knew we saw him on 6th Ave, not 8th. 6th Ave! Haha, we fooled her with a technicality! Another life ruined by my lies! Now to soak my feet!

Moment of Clarity #10

If you are black and someone says to you..."Do you wanna be an Afri-Can't or an Afri-Can?" They have just given you permission to stab them.

Moment of Clarity #9

If someone accuses you of being something and your defense is "No I'm not," you probably are what they say you are.

Moment of Clarity #8

Brevity is the soul of wit. So true. Except that's a line from Hamlet which is a play that is 4 hours long in a monologue from a man who doesn't shut up until he is killed.

Moment of Clarity #7

People who hold hands walking down the street are in essence a moving roadblock. And they're in love. So they're an annoying moving roadblock. And don't get me started on a wide ass couples.

Parts for Art's Sake

After having a conversation in which I complimented her fine bulbous backside, Allison Castillo (HAPPY BIRTHDAY) asked me a very deep question "What's with guys and asses?"

Well Allison...

To ask a man what is it with men and asses is like saying "what is it with women and pretty eyes?"

A nice ass is a work of art. Asses come in all shapes and sizes. No two are the same and any person has their on ass aesthetic or "Assthetic" (I couldn't resist). A nice ass is like a fine creme brulette, a Cezanne, the Harry Potter series. You have a very well formed, shapely "damn can I get some of that" booty.

Now primally you have to understand that "doggy style" is actually the natural way humans made love until the Missionaries came along and left their legacy. So, of course, there is an intense connection to sex when dealing with asses. That makes for quite an exciting artshow. I think Spinal Tap said it best when they said "The bigger the cushion, the sweeter the pushin'/ That's what I said/ The looser the waistband, the deeper the quicksand/ Or so I have read."

During this time of year the streets become a museum of the female form whether you like it or not (and most women don't). Connoisseurs of Asses, Breasteses, and Legs line the streets. They study the artwork. Discuss the origin, style and period -

"Obviously born in the Bronx year 1979. Latina variety. Highly influenced by the Early 90s Hair Band period, but in a retro manner influenced by Sex and the City reruns as exemplified by the blonde streaks. B cups accented by a fine pink scarf draped across a horizontally striped shirt. And of course her backside is very nice indeed thanks to a pair of acid washed jeans and clear high heals...Excuse me there, miss! You look lovely"

Of course what comes out is different -

"Damn Mami! You're hurtin' me, baby! Let me just get a piece! You know what I'm saying, boo? Good God girl that booty is banging!"

Just know when you hear stuff like that, its the closest some of those guys will ever come to being in a museum.

Moment of Clarity #6

The first time any teacher said out loud "Give me that! You'll get it back at the end of the day," they thought to themselves "What have I become?" And contemplated suicide.

Clee Shays

Here are a few more expressions I can't stand.

"Its a Wild Goose chase"

Is it really? People use that to describe something that can't be found. A Wild Goose can be found. And its Wild. So you shouldn't want to find it. It should be used to describe a situation where you look for something and once you find it your eyes get poked out.

"Have a good flight/Fly safely/Be safe"

I really don't have that much say in what happens when I'm in a gigantic piece of steel and fire 30,000 feet in the air. Especially if I'm not the pilot.

"Can you believe it? Can you imagine?"

Yes, I can. People say this when an event has occured that's usually not that unlikely. You just asked me if I can believe something that just happened. Yes, I can. I'm looking at it and pointing. And if its an unlikely event, well it just happened. I'm looking at it and pointing. By the way, the imagination is vast and endless. If I can't imagine it (whatever it is), then something is very very wrong.

"Needle in a Haystack"

See Moment of Clarity.

"Needle in a Stack of Needles"

Surely if you need a needle, any of these will do. I've never heard of needing a specific needle because they all serve the same function. If its a sentimental needle, well 1) that's weird, 2) why did you let someone get ahold of it to throw it in a stack of needles?, and 3) WHO THE FUCK HAS A STACK OF NEEDLES!?

"Kick the bucket"

To describe someone dying. Glad there's a jovial way to describe it. I wonder who the man was that had a leg spasm at the moment of passing and had a bucket near that leg. Then what asshole was in the room that thought to themselves "I'm gonna tell people he kicked a bucket instead of he died because I'm really considerate of other's feelings." Some say it refers to the bed pan. Meaning "the bucket" that catches one's bowel movements. Well, that's under their ass and you'd have to be pretty limber to kick that whilst dying. Hey, maybe some unlucky nurse had it near a leg at the time of passing and it was kicked over. Hmm, having to wash up a dead man's shit would make me look at death so much more differently that I'd have to coin a phrase.

Moment of Clarity #5

"That's as hard as finding a needle in a hay stack"

Finding a needle in a hay stack is not so much difficult as much as it is time consuming. With a little devotion and a magnifying glass, you'd be surprised at what you can achieve.

i was thinking about the theme to "golden girls"

ME:...and that line that goes "If you threw a party/ invited everyone you knew/ you would see the biggest gift would be for me/ and the card attached would say/ Thank you for being a friend..." What an asshole thing to say. That if you were at someone else's party where there were gifts, the biggest one would be for you? Nice way to ruin a birthday.

CHINASA: No no no...its the biggest gift would be from me. And I don't even really think about it literally but more that, you know, I'll be there for you. You know?

(pause)

ME: You've destoyed my morning.

Quatrain Haiku or Good Idea?

i'm moving to Iceland
"why?" you ask - I'll tell you...
nothing like being the only blaq in a country
to guarantee Relations with the curious

Hmmph.

The more homeless people I see, the more of them have dogs and girlfriends. I must have missed that commercial.
Homeless people! Now with wives and pets!

Moment of Clarity #4

People who tell stories that end with "I guess you had to be there," shouldn't tell stories.

*Note: Someone told me that someone else has already told that joke, but I've never heard it. So I'm gonna keep telling it until I am confronted by the aforementioned "other comic" or someone else tells me they've heard it before. Besides comics write the same jokes all the time. And if its "all been done" there's not much I can do about the fact that sometimes people have similar ideas. THAT'S HOW RELIGION STARTED! So next time you tell me someone else may have a done something similar, remember that you're taking on religion, k? And Baron no likey blaspheming heretics.

Jim Kelly here I come.

This is Not Nice

No seriously. This is not nice. If you are easily offended, read no further. I'm about to say some stuff that'll probably truly disturb you. I'm gonna say some very vulgar stuff. It'll maybe shake you up about an all too familiar whipping boy of these here continental United States. That's right I'm talking about...Michael Jackson.

Ok. Now. Here's my thing. I'm starting to feel shame every time I listen to a Michael Jackson song or think about how much money I've spent on related material. I'm like "wow...have I been inadvertedly funding child molestation since 1990?" (some people feel the same way about a tithe) Its like the PSA that was on long ago with children giving testimonials about how they "crash planes into buildings" because they bought pot and thus funded terrorism. This time its me holding copies of Thriller and Off The Wall going "I fondle child actors. I molest cancer patients."

Michael is truly a brilliant performer. He has defined what it means to be a pop star and his live concerts in the 80s and 90s were nothing short of genius. There is a thin line between genius and insanity. If you've ever seen footage of him talking about his plastic surgery, he adamantly denies ever having more than 2. 2? 2! Most people find that very hard to believe, but when he says it you can see he does. He believes it wholeheartedly. The same belief shines through when he speaks to people's issues of his spending time with boys and the sharing of his regal bed "Its not impure. Its about love. Its not about sex. Why would I do that?" Hmm...

Michael may very well have a split personality. There's Good Michael and there's Bad Mikey.

Good Michael is the one who invites kids over to play all day long with llamas and Ferris Wheels.
Bad Mikey is the one that serves kids wine at night when they are exhausted. He allegedly called it "Jesus Juice."

Good Michael invites kids into his studio to listen to music and watch him dance.
Bad Mikey watches kids dance with the help of a strategically placed pole in a studio back room.

Good Michael shares pies, cakes and assorted sweets with kids while they all get messy with yummy goodness.
Bad Mikey sticks his fingers in little boys like they're bowling balls when they crash from the sugar.

Then in the morning Michael wakes up and thinks all was good and pure, but the children sing a different story.

There's a part of me that wants an overwhelming amount of evidence to be found just so the damn thing is over. I mean I hope Michael is innocent (false hope?), but there's a part of me waiting for a former employee to come forward and tell the court about the Lair. Then the police will find a dungeon beneath the ranch with naked missing Boy Scouts chained to the walls with bruises on their bodies. When the police start to release the poor scouts who are barely concious, echoing screams of "No More Love!" will reverberate throughout the dungeon. Suddenly, a drum starts to beat. Beat. Beat. Beat. Kids will start climbing down walls and appearing in corridors like the Orcs in Lord of the Rings. They start shootings arrows and throwing boomerangs and dildos while proclaiming "Leave them be! They defied Messiah Jackson!' It will then escalte to a Waco - Koresh like standoff between Jackson and the police.

And when I see it on the news and hear them refer to the "Jackson Compund," I'll think to myself "Finally. Some Closure."

Commercial Success

I did an AOL Commercial. Everyone has seen it. I know that because they show it all the time plus I've gotten calls and emails from everyone that has ever known me. EVER. I've gotten recognized on the Subway once. The guy looked at me and asked if I was in "that commercial." I said yes. He said "say the tuna line."

Of course, my favorite one is my dear mother. Who (when the commercial started airing) would call me ev'rytime she saw it leaving me a captain's log of voice mails.
"8:31: they aired it on Survivor. Ok, bye. 9:02: its on The Apprentice. Ok, bye. 9:15: during Desperate Housewives. Love you, bye."
(Does anyone else find it disturbing that their mother loves Desperate Housewives??)

Now don't get me wrong, I love the attention. I've also made it my mission to return every call. Its just I have that classic fear of not being able to live up to the expectations others have for me. Yeah, that's some real shit right there.

Commercial auditions are strange. More so than film and TV, its all about types. I go out for things where they are looking for a
"Dave Chappelle type. Chris Rock type. A funky, urban, fast talking, streetwise, sorta jazzy, urban, hip hoppy, kinda funky, urban Chris Rock-y type of fast talking - Chris Rock sky diving! Chris Rock wrestling an alligator! If Chris Rock had an alligator in a headlock what would he say? And ACTION!"
Its just as Robert Townsend so brilliantly illustrated in the 80s (when Rock and Chappelle were coming up) in the film Hollywood Shuffle with actors auditioning for a Eddie Murphy-esque role.

A friend of mine went in for a mortgage and loan commercial the other day. (the company rhymes with Ashmeriquest). They were looking for a Black SoccerMom. So they called her because they had her "sassy" headshot. And if there are Black SoccerMoms, I guarantee the other SoccerMoms find them very very "sassy."
(*note: Black SoccerMoms is a good name for a band.)
I found that hilarious so of course I wrote a script for her audition.

SOCCER MOM: Because I have less than perfect credit, (let's just say my son's nickname is collateral) I can't always make my mortgage payments. I mean McDonald's pays well and all, but I want the appearance of status that would get me approval from White America.

INTANGIBLE VOICE: You're in luck! At Ashmeriquest we will work for you! We realize your people are put upon and need a leg up once in a while. And we like the fact we'll technically own you for the rest of your life. So help is on the way
Ashmeriquest: Debt is the New Slavery.

I like that "Debt is the New Slavery." Its funny cuz its true.

I went for an audition the other day for a soft drink product (sounds like Shmepsi). The premise was me walking into a store to get a drink. The clerk had two live chickens in a cage on his counter. I see them and as a joke I say to the guy "got any chickens?" He asks which of them I want and I put the drink to the cage. Both of the chickens wanna go home with my drink oblivious to the fact that I, a black man, plan to kill and eat them Down-home style. So the chickens have a Kung Fu battle and the one left standing goes home with me. You guessed it. Its hyper-realism. Now after one take, we get directions to really see those chickens fight. It'll be CGIed in later, but we really have to react. Okay. So I lean in and look as the casting woman shouts out narration "They're bowing to each other! Now they're kicking! One is doing flying kicks! One is knocked out, you can't believe it!" You're right I can't believe it. I just wonder who that guy is who grew up on a farm that saw chickens fight that could really drop in to reality of that moment.

I can't wait to see it.

Mwah Ha Ha

This is a brief conversation between Steve Hofstetter and myself.

ME: Yo.

STEVE HOFSTETTER: Can't talk now. Doing taxes.

ME: Haha! Right. And I should know better than to interrupt a Jewish man during tax time. Also known as "Financial Shiva."

STEVE: Jerk.

Moment of Clarity #3

You know what, Jackson 5? For people with dyslexia, ABC is not as easy as 123.

I'm Not Fooled (Pop Culture Reference)

What a beautiful day it was in New York City. It was sunny, there was a nice temperature and people seemed happy.

I'm not fooled.

The weather has been treating we citizens like an abused wife. Enticing us with lovely days and then turning on us unexpectedly. Its like the weather is Ike Turner and we citizens are Tina Turner.

IKE WEATHER: Tina, baby, I'm sorry. I love you, baby. Here. Here's an 80 degree day, baby. I'm sorry.

TINA CITIZENS: I don't know, Ike. I mean its been so cold for so long. Its April, Ike. I mean come on! I don't know if I could ever forgive you.

IKE: Baby, I said I'm sorry! Why you gotta hate me? I'm trying.

TINA: I don't know Ike.

IKE: Well, fuck you then! How you gonna be like that? Fine...here's some snow, bitch! Haha and you're not dressed for it either.

TINA: Oh no, Ike, its so cold! Please...I'm freezing!

IKE: Oh baby I'm sorry. Ike loves you Tina Citizens. Here's some sunshine. And a cool breeze, but not so cold you have to wear a coat. And here's some birds chirping.

TINA: No, Ike I've had enough. I'm gonna go somewhere warmer until you figure out what your deal is. Like Florida or Cali.

IKE: Baby, no! Why!? Floridas got Hurricanes and Calis got Earthquakes. Baby, don't leave!

TINE: Ok, I'll stay.

IKE: Haha, bitch! Now I'ma make you pay for them nasty things you been sayin'!

...And so on and so forth until we make it to June.

Just Enough for the City

I hate moving.

Nobody really likes it and anyone who does has serious emotional problems that they should look into. No seriously. They should open the door to their feelings, look around and say "Wow, I gotta lotta baggage in here."

I went over to my new old apartment and packed up some stuff and helped the new guy Erik put together his bed. Putting together a bed is one of the most rewarding things you can do. After all the frustration and irritation you can then take a well deserved nap. "Finally got that damn thing put together. I'm tired now....hey, a bed."

While we were putting it together we had to use an Allen Wrench aka Allen Key and Hex Key. Erik and I found it quite funny these things even exist and he jokingly asked who the hell came up with this idea in the first place. A guy named Allen of course. However, I did want to find some real evidence so I Googled it and went to the Library of Congress and did some research. What I found out may be shocking and disturbing....

Once upon a time in a land called Fixitwithtoolsia, there was a village called Assembleityourselfville. It was ruled by a gentle peaceful man named Freddie Flathead who supplied his citizens with a generous amount of screws and screwdrivers. The townspeople liked the ease of using Flathead products and found it so gentle and peaceful when assembling some sort of bed and/or bookcase of which there were many in this particular place. Everyone in the village loved Flathead and referred to him with such gentle and peaceful words like "gentle" and "peaceful."

One day an evil warlord named Phineas Phillips saw this domain and did not like that it was gentle and peaceful. He wanted people to use his products so that he could rule over Assembleityourselfville with an iron hand. So one night, while the village rested, he snuck into Flathead's shop and changed all the screws. They now had a cross on them. Flathead awoke and sent his shipment as usual oblivious to the fact that his screws were screwed. After a while, he began getting phone calls about how people were supposed to use these screws, but Phillips had all calls fowarded to his phone and he told people to see him and he would give them Phillips head screwdrivers. Thus Phillips took over the town.

After years of evil rule, a wizard named Allen the Argonaut rode into town. He saw the misery on the faces of the people of Assembleityourselfville and was very surprised. This was not the behavior that Frommer's said these people would have. The guide described them as "gentle" and "peaceful" and as "having one of the hottest nude beaches in Fixitwithtoolsia." Allen the Argonaut had been to many nude beaches and new that if the natives were this miserable, it would be unlikely that people were going to the beach. Especially 19 year old girls. He went to the beach and he was right: empty. Not a nubile body in sight. Something had to be done.

Allen quickly realized that there was a connection between the misery of the people and the tools they used. If he was ever going to have fun, he new he had to get rid of Phillips. After consulting the Oracle, he tracked down Freddie Flathead who was now living on the outskirts of the city as a hermit. He was hurt and confused to how the people of the town could be so easily influenced by Phillips. Allen understood that the screws had to be changed to restore order. Phillips had the screws heavily guarded day and night knowing that someone could easily do to him what he had done to Flathead, but Allen was a wizard. This meant that his powers could only be used for good and there is no greater deed than reviving a nude beach.

Allen teleported into the warehouse and put a hex on the screws. The shipment went out and in each sack of screws was a key from Allen. Instantly, the town began to feel better. The nude beach was full and all were happy. Phillips' stranglehold was becoming looser and he wasn't going to go out without a fight. He found Allen one day in the middle of town and the men began to battle. It was a fierce match up. Phillips would give a one two. Allen a three four. Phillips a 411. Allen a 227. Phillips a 666. Allen an 867-5309. Then out of nowhere Flathead jumped into the fight and the 3 men battled so voraciously that a tornado formed and spit the 3 men into places far far away. The Tornado ripped through the town mixing up bags of all 3 kinds of screws. It disappated when it got to the beach for there were nude 19 year old girls present. The heavens swallowed up the twister for the Gods knew these bodies must be enjoyed not destroyed.

Assembleityourselfville now had all different kinds of screws. When the villagers wanted to put something together, they never knew if they were going to need a Flathead, a Phillips head or and Allen Key. And it has been that way ever since.

THE END.....No really, its true. Google it.