Friday, January 31, 2003
YOUR DAILY NEGATIVE AFFIRMATION
"Why should I be forced to clean up other people's messes?"
"If other people can't take a joke, that's their problem."
"If I can't be persuasive, I can at least be loud."
"When you don't feel like getting to know someone personally, there's still stereotypes."
"There's no problem in life too big that it can't be completely buried under junk food."
"Even if I don't vote, someone who thinks just like me will."
"If you can't do something well, it's better to watch those who can and tear them down."
"If I ignore this, it will just go away."
"Variety's the spice of life? But spice gives me indigestion."
"A friend is just an enemy whose ass you haven't kicked yet."
"Being drunk is like having all your problems solved!"
"Love is beautiful, but porn is easy."
"If you can't be popular, at least try being bitter."
"Sleeping until noon fixes everything."
Thursday, January 30, 2003
Friday, January 31st
10pm - $5.00
The Gershwin Hotel
W. 27th St. btwn. 5th & Madison
I host a great show, featuring:
* Leo Allen (writer Saturday Night Live)
* Susie Felber (writer, ComedyCentral.com)
* Jen Kirwin (Montreal Comedy Festival)
* Victor Varnado (the movies Pluto Nash & A Guy Thing)
Dear lord, I am an empty well, a blank wall today. Instead of jokes , I thought I'd share some t-shirt ideas I had. Look for these at a shitty souvenir shoppe near you:
"HONK IF YOU ENJOY HONKING, BUT NEED AN EXCUSE TO HONK!"
"JESUS LIKES ME AS A FRIEND"
"I'M LOST. IF FOUND, PLEASE RETURN TO MY PARENTS"
"MY GIRLFRIEND WENT TO NEW ORLEANS, AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY T-SHIRT AND A CASE OF THE CRABS"
"FBI COPYRIGHT WARNING: This t-shirt can only be used for non-commercial private exhibition in homes and any public performance or copying of it is prohibited by copyright laws."
"IN MY PANTS!"
"I'M WITH ILLITERATE --->"
"PLAYED BY BILLY CRYSTAL"
"IF YOU CAN READ THIS, HOW DO I SMELL?"
"FREE WHITNEY HOUSTON - JAIL BOBBY BROWN!"
"EXCESSIVE PUNCTUATION ROCKS!!!!!!??!?!?!?!!!"
"10 REASONS WHY A BEER IS BETTER THAN NOT HAVING A BEER"
"ONE MAN BAND SEEKS DRUMMER"
"HOW'S MY WALKING? CALL 1-800-555-2298"
"MY MOMMY FORGOT TO DRESS ME THIS MORNING"
"I THINK THIS T-SHIRT IS FUNNY, BUT ONLY IN AN IRONIC WAY"
"I AM NOW THINKING OUTSIDE OF THE BOX"
"I'M THE KIND OF GUY PEOPLE WANT TO PUNCH IN THE FACE, AND I'M COOL WITH THAT"
"HELLO, MY NAME IS STEVE AND I ENJOY WATER-SKIING, DRY (continued on next shirt)"
"KISS ME, I'M DESPERATE"
"I PAID SOME GUY 20 BUCKS SO I CAN LOOK LIKE AN ASSHOLE"
"ACCIDENT-FREE FOR 3 DAYS"
"PARDON THE APPEARANCE OF THIS T-SHIRT, IT IS CURRENTLY UNDER CONSTRUCTION"
"IF YOU CAN READ THIS THEN YOU ARE VIOLATING THE RESTRAINING ORDER"
Wednesday, January 29, 2003
Now you can rate famous people on how annoying they are.
Am I Annoying?
If you introduce yourself as a World-Class Master Fisherman, people will show you respect. But if you introduce yourself as a World-Class Master Baiter, they'll show you the door.
WON'T YOU GATHER 'ROUND ME PEOPLE AND A STORY I WILL TELL,
'BOUT PATTI BOYD-HARRISON-CLAPTON THE OUTLAW,
THE ENGLISH ROCK SCENE KNEW HER WELL
Patti Boyd married George Harrison and he wrote Something about her, one of the most beautiful love songs ever written.
Then Eric Clapton fell in love with her and wrote Layla, a kick-ass hard rock song. Then he married her and wrote Wonderful Tonight about her.
That must have been rough on the third guy she dated:
"Oh, what a lovely Hallmark Card. Did it go platinum?"
"Oh, well maybe it won a Grammy?"
"Well, keep trying buddy. Maybe this box of chocolates will make The 10 Most Covered Songs of All time."
PRO AND CONFESSION
A friend of mine was raised Catholic, and he was telling me that when he was 13 his parents made him go to confession.
Basically, confession was where he would be locked in a small dark closet while a grown man behind a mesh screen listened to his stories about masturbating and his lustful fantasies and judged him on how wicked they were.
And then this guy actually was surprised when so many of these priests turn out to be molesters!
Tuesday, January 28, 2003
In the mail today I received a copy of Men's Fitness magazine. I can only guess that it's a not-very-subtle hint.
Actually, more embarassing than that is the fact that I'd rather it come in plain wrapping, like porn. In fact, I would probably be less ebarrased to get porn in the mail.
Weirdest thing is usually when a subscription is started for you, you get some kind of introductory letter from the magazine. Nope, just got an issue unsolicited. Just what I need on the day I'm making a tape to send out to "Industry": a reminder of how unattractive I really am.
By the way, the next time someone jokes to you about how vain women are, just introduce them to male comedians.
I think that rappers' use of the "izz" sound to break up words is cool, but there's a limit to where it should be used. And that limit is the phrase "I'm drinkin' jizz-in and jizz-uice."
THA DOGG POUND
Everyone's going gangsta. You know who should go gangsta? Dog show judges. At least the patois would make sense:
"Yo, what up dawg?"
"Damn, that bitch is fiiiiine!"
HALF A BUCK
Rapper 50 Cent became notorious for writing a song about how he wants to jack every successful rapper in the business. But one line goes:
"I'm a take half of Tyson's money like I was Robin Givens." (I'm paraphrasing, okay?)
Tyson? Obvously, this guy's confusing rap with rape.
Also, that follows the line:
"I'm a rob Boyz II Men like my name was Michael Bivens."
Who brags about being able to take Boyz II Men?
"Yeah, I'm a big man. I took on three 7 year-old girls and Axl Rose."
Monday, January 27, 2003
It's ironic that crazy paranoids who rant about government conspiracies to invade their privacy are the people wit the least to fear in terms of people being interested in their sad little lives
Even if, during their journeys through the 'Net, they did stumble on The Truth About What's Going On, who would believe them?
If I was a shady government operative, I would sponsor these people and their websites and give them all the info about my evil doings. I'd be like, "Yeah not only are we attacking Iraq for their oil, but we're going to eat their babies' brains because we're controlled by aliens." And no one would ever believe it.
Why would the government want to spy on a paranoid recluse who lives in his parents' basement? What would they be afraid he'd find?
"He knows too much about the difference between being Hot or Not! We must stop him before he eats another box of Pop Tarts and jacks off to Alyssa Milano!"
Saturday, January 25, 2003
No, I'm not kidding!
GOOGLE FAILED ME
I could not find any sites with a recipe for Hot Dog Fudge Sundaes. If you knowof a recipe, please post in the comments box.
Friday, January 24, 2003
(Liam McEneaney Aptitude Test)
32) READING COMPREHENSION
Find and list everything that is sad about the following paragraph:
The other night, I was bored so I watched The Hollwood Squares. Kermit the Frog was the most famous person on the show. At one point, Kermit - a hero from my childhood - made a joke about how Charo would know how long his tongue is. Jeffrey Tambor was the sidekick/announcer, which means that he is now a real-life Hank Kingsley. I knew it was Jeffrey Tambor just by listening to his voice. I sat at home, playing along and disgusted by how dumb the contestants were. At one point I reminded myself of an old Life in Hell cartoon, which was a self-portrait of Matt Groening sitting at home watching Wheel of Fortune. A contestant got a question wrong and Groening said, "Fool! Thoses prizes are rightfully mine!"
This is hilarious. First of all, there is nothing hotter than a woman over a toilet. Not only that, but check out how the picture is framed over a vintage photo of George Harrison and Ringo. And let's face it, nothing gets me "in the mood" like the late Bruce Lee peering at me angrily.
(By the way, the model's name is Nikki Ziering. She used to be married to one of the guys from 90210, which makes her entertainment royalty.)
Thursday, January 23, 2003
I always feel guilty after I spend a conversation trying to stare down a woman's shirt.
I wrote the set-up for this joke and a lot of potential punchlines.
Tiffany's has a you-break-it-you-buy-it policy.
Apparently, so do preschools.
Apparently, so do senior homes.
Apparently, so do nuclear reactors.
Apparently, so does the Venezuelan Air Force.
Apparently, so do prostitutes.
Apparently, so did Abner Louima.
Apparently, the 10 Commandments work the same way.
Apparently, so does this audience. (bomb line)
Apparently, so does the NYPD Homicide Squad.
Apparently, this is also President Bush's Mideast Peace Initiative.
Tiffany's has a you-break-it-you-buy-it policy.
You know who else has this policy?
The Sound Barrier.
The 23rd St. Barnes & Noble mens' room.
Tiffany's has a you-break-it-you-buy-it policy.
I wasted a lot of money because I misunderstood.
I thought you had to break something to buy it.
I was shopping like Frankenstein: "This nice! Me smash! Now wrap up, present for mom!"
Wednesday, January 22, 2003
They should either legalize weed, or criminalize chocolate. Because chocolate is way more addictive and has ruined more lives. Let's be honest, when's the last time weed has been directly linked to acne outbreaks?
In fact, I think we should criminalize everything that's addictive and bad for you, starting with Playstation 2. Because I don't have one, that's why.
I saw a public service ad, where a girl's at a party and she gets really high, and collapses on a couch and this guy starts feeling her up.
And I wasn't sure if this was an ad against using weed to get high, or for using weed as a date-rape drug.
I didn't know if the tagline was going to be "JUST SAY NO," or "NO MEANS YES."
"MARIJUANA: THE NEXT GHB"
A year ago we declared a War on Terrorism, when that failed (because Terrorism isn't a country with an army you can march against; it's a shadowy and fluid loose collection of individuals and organizations) it quickly become the War on Saddam Hussein.
Let's face it; every time a conservative administration has declared a War On something, they've lost badly. Remember the War on Drugs? All we did was tell kids to "Just Say No," and drugs magically disappeared from the face of the Earth. And of course, that went so well that they declared a War on Poverty, which has led to every child in this country being clothed, fed and well-educated, every family to stay together, and everyone who wants a job to find one. What these Wars have been is the War on the Lower Classes.
If the government is really concerned with social problems, why do they frame them as Wars? Simply, because the standard conservative ideology, the template that's used for every conservative rubber stamp opinion in the media, was created during the Cold War. ABck then, they had a clear enemy at which to direct American Public Fury: Communism.
Now, of course, the Soviet Union is gone, China is - whoops! - one of our biggest trade partners, and the only Commie infiltrators we have to fear any more are Cuban raft people trying to get to Florida to escape crushing poverty.
Why am I thinking about the War on Drugs and the War on Poverty?
The answer is that I was reading the New York Dily News the other day, and I read a Bill O'Reilly opinion piece on Eminem.
Now, I know what you're going to say, "Hey Liam, haven't you learned never to take anything seriously that you read in the Daily News Opinion pages? Not to mention that you know that Bill O'Reilly is one of those braying media jackasses who, like a child, will say anything to get attention, whether positive or negative."
Yes and yes. However, just because I don't take him all that seriously, doesn't mean that other people don't. The man is a hugely popular presence in the national media, and has a platform to reach millions. I, on the other hand, am a somewhat locally-popular comedian whose blog reaches a hundred people a day, half of whom are tricked into thinking this is a porn site. And as far as I can tell, I'm the only person willing to take this on."
Anyway, the upshot of the Bill O'Reilly article was that Eminem glamorizes poverty, and makes kids choose to live in poverty rather than put down the drugs, get a job, and become wealthy.
First of all, Eminem's message isn't, "Poverty is cool." His message, especially in his forst two albums is, "Hey, being poor sucks, I hate my life, I hate what I have to do just to get by, and the reason I do drugs is because I have already hit as far rock-bottom as a man can go." And the reason poor kids listen to that is because he is talking about their everyday lives. He isn't encouragin kids to be poor, he's encouraging kids who are poor and letting them know that it isn't anything to be ashamed of, that there's other peopel like him out there.
Of course, this probably drives a dyed-in-the-wool conservative like O'Reilly nuts. After all, people like him have spent the last thirty years framing their War on the Poor People as a racist movement; even though most of the people on welfare are white, when you hear the phrase, "welfare queen with eight kids and a Cadillac," you don't think of a white woman with her hair curlers living in a trailer, do you?
But now, the best-selling, angriest and scariest rapper, the one who's reaching kids and preaching truth about poverty, isn't black. He's Eminem, and he's white, and he scares the hell out of powerful men who had been able to lump angry black folks in with angry poor people.
We've spent the last thirty years believing, as a nation, that America's Drug Problem was manifested in black gangs shooting it out in the Hood. And now we're reminded that it's just as prevalent among Good White Kids Striving to Better Themselves. We were able to delude ourselves that that public assisstance rosters were filled with, you know, Those Lazy Shiftless No-Accounts Who Don't Want a Job, and now we have to face the fact that our welfare rolls are also made up Good White Families Who Need A Foot Up, Not A Hand-Out. We're reminded that the best and the worst of human nature, basest and the noblest impulse, the inspiring and the tragic, the hardest-working and the laziest, that every facet of humanity belong to every race. And once we can see that, the next step is to see that we've tried to punish a large segment of our population for so long.
Has the Republican administration sent us into a soaring economic freefall, leaving us in tremendous debt (as the Reagan and both Bush administrations did)? Blame it on the lazy people on welfare who leech us dry.
Has our Puritan insistance that every form of drug is Evil made the drug lords richer and more powerful, and collapsed the infrastructure of our poorest neighborhoods? Blame it on the drug users and low-level dealers and send them away for a long, long time. And make sure they're black, so it looks right.
And hell, did our national security allow terrorists to attack us in such a huge and public way that we were humiliated in front of the world? Let's lock up every Muslim male and illegal immigrant we can find, deprive them of their Constitutional rights, and never speak of them again.
Now we as Americans must face the facts; every time a conservative thinker like Bill O'Reilly proposes a solution, it always ends up punishing the members of society who are too helpless to defend themselves.
Every time a poor young man discovers that the police can not protect him, he takes up a gun. Every time a poor young woman discovers that society would rather she die on the streets of starvation than allow her the money to better her life, she takes up a drug or alcohol habit. Every time we as a country tune out what's going on in our cities, in our suburbs, in our poorest hovels and richest palaces, our country dies that much more.
Our government would like us to think it's a monolith, made up of powerful corporations and interests that make it impossible for the individual to be heard. Bu that's only if you allow it to be so. Maybe this opinion piece won't be taken seriously, being as it does come under two jokes. Maybe you found this dull and skipped parts. Maybe you haven't even read this far, but if you have I urge you to get out a letter and write to your congressman (never e-mail, they delete those things unread I can guarantee you), write to your President, hell write to Bill O'Reilly, and let them know that their plan of attack doesn't work, that a plan of attack never works.
Tuesday, January 21, 2003
HE TOOK MY $9.50 . . . AND HE'S NOT GIVING IT BACK
HE STOLE 90 MINUTES OF MY LIFE . . . AND HE'S NOT GIVING IT BACK
COntrary to my predictions, Kangaroo Jack was the number one movie over the weekend.
I went to see Kangaroo Jack, and hey, I'm not too big a man to admit when the rest of America's wrong, because that movie was just as big a piece of shit as I'd hoped.
Fuck art. I'm going to write things that are designed to be popular from now on. In fact, I'm writing a screenplay that is guaranteed to be a smash-hit comedy.
I don't want to give too much away, but the title is Kangaroo Jackass.
I LOOK FOR ONE THING IN A WOMAN:
Lots of alcohol. Everything else is gravy.
Bad for miners, but good for folksingers. In fact, mining disasters are the only thing that's both bad for miners and good for folksingers.
I REMEMBER THE LAST TIME WE MADE LOVE
Of course, I didn't know at the time it was going to be the last time - until she told me. Halfway through.
I WROTE A JOKE
I refuse to actually tell it in public, but needless to say that yes, it is a joke about how, after "Tears in Heaven" went platinum and won a Grammy, Eric Clapton's other kids had to watch their backs.
Not only is it in incredibly good taste, but it's so timely as well.
WON'T GET FOOLED AROUND WITH AGAIN
I'm really hoping that Pete Townshend isn't guilty. Really hoping. I mean, just because the Who is so cool; it's one of the few Jurassic Rock bands that didn't turn out to suck.
No one went solo with a "Silly Love Songs" album, no one did an Unplugged, no shitty disco remixes.
In fact, they weren't even going to reunite and tour again, but Entwhistle needed the money, and so Townshend and Daltrey went back on tour again.
And then they went on that post-9/11 charity show and kicked everyone's ass. Instead of being all weepy and maudlin, they captured New York's true emotional pitch.
Of all the rock stars in the world, Townshend's the guy you expect this from the lest.
I mean, Gary Glitter came as no surprise to anyone. Michael Jackson definitely not a shocker. But Townshend?
It is hard to overlook what a shitty defense he's giving: "I was researching for a book I'm writing about how I was myself an abused child."
First of all, it's just a fact; people who were abused as children are so much likelier to themselves turn into abusers.
But come on - do you have to look at child porn to know what child abuse is? I think there are a couple million books on the subject. I mean, twenty years from now, Britney Spears will probably get arrested for blowing a lot of guys for cash, but that doesn't mean she's going to be researching for her story on how she made it in the music business.
I guess I just need a hero who doesn't turn out to be a complete dick. Please don't make me look to weepy female folkies like Ani DiFrance.
Saturday, January 18, 2003
And then there's profound comedy. Enjoy!
IT'S ANOTHER COUPLE OF DAYS UNTIL THE WEEKEND MOVIE GROSSES COME IN
Which means that Kangaroo Jack isn't yet a terrible, embarassing bomb. I'll bet the cowriter, billionaire playboy Steven Bing (former writer for Fox's Married ... with Children) is sitting in a hot tub with two coked-up models saying, "Of course, the next step is directing."
Friday, January 17, 2003
The NY Daily News gave it 0 stars. I might be the only person in America who's actually excited to go see it.
A how-to on self-amputation. I couldn't make it past paragraph 3.
I HAVE VERY FEW LIFE GOALS
But they can all be summed up in the sentence, "I don't want to be shopping at a 99 cent store when I'm thirty."
When I'm at the 99 cent store, and I find something I want, I turn into a pirate - "Arrr, a 150 page notebook. She'd fetch upwards of four dollars at Rite Aid! Come beauty, I'll have ye in my bag soon enough! Come lads, grab ye the off-brand light bulbs and let's away! I want to be buying generic hot dogs in Morocco by morning light!"
I actually find the 99 cent store kind of comforting. Because, no matter how eccentric I may be, I can always say, "At least I'm not the guy in green raincoat sniffing that package of garbage bags."
Thursday, January 16, 2003
NEW REALITY SHOW
There's a new reality show in the pipeline, where an ordinary guy will get to get into the ring with Iron Mike Tyson. The name of the show will be "Joe Medicare."
HE STOLE THE MONEY . . . AND HE'S NOT GOING TO GIVE IT BACK
One more day until Kangaroo Jack. Which means three more days until the careers of everyone involved will be completely ruined.
It was cowritten by Steve Bing, the billionaire who impregnated Elizabeth Hurley. What's this guy's problem? Billionaire playboys are supposed to be fighting crime by night, not knocking up untalented actresses and writing bad Bruckenheimer films.
(I am a fan of Bruckenheimer's action movies, but not his family films so much. I'm sure he's going to lose a lot of sleep over that.)
I used to be really into thumb-wrestling. Until the day I discovered it was fake.
I APPLIED FOR A JOB AT BARNES & NOBLE
And I had to sign a release stating that I understood that they would perform a credit check on me. You know, I thought it was understood that if you were over the age of 19 and were applying for a job at Barnes & Noble, your credit history probably ain't so good.
I think my credit history probably reads like my fifth grade report card; lots of red ink, lots of "needs improvement"s.
THE MacARTHUR GENIUS GRANT
is awarded to people who do things that are considered works of genius.
I don't know about past winners, but I think a Genius Grant should go to the guy who invented the KFC Drive-Thru. Because, if you're a regular at KFC, odds are good you're not physically fit enough to get out of your car and walk into a restaurant. In fact, odds are good that you're going to be seeing the business end of a Jaws of Life one day.
Wednesday, January 15, 2003
I added some new links on the right-hand side. And when I say "new," I mean "mostly links I've been meaning to add for the past eight months." Check out Jodi, Aaron, Karen, Kyria, and of course The Ukes of Hazzard in what is seriously a kickass video.
I was about six when my dad fell in love with the monster in my closet.
I remember, it started when he would come into my room at night; I'd heard the claws scraping, the rustling of tentacles against hanging shirts and jackets. At first he tried to convince me it didn't exist, and then one night he opened the closet door, looked the monster in the eye, and that was it. You could feel the electricity. You could practically hear the violins play.
He would be in there most nights, and of course, he tried to fit into her monster world. So he took to dressing up as a vampire, with a cape and fangs and red vest.
The family didn't know what was going on, of course. It took us months to figure out that he was a closet Transylvestite.
I was arguing with this woman about animal testing; I told her that if a couple of rabbits had to die so that I had a cure for cancer, I was willing to live with that.
She accused me of being "specist." Then she told me that our entire society is "specist."
Specist means "racist against animals." Our society is racist against animals?
Have you ever looked at the ingredients ina can of dog food? It has vitamins and minerals and chicken and pork and beef. These dogs eat better than I do. If I ever fed a dog onion rings for breakfast, I'd be thrown in jail.
And believe you me, if I took a dump on the sidwalk, do you think I'd get a treat? No. I'd probably just get another citation.
That's ridiculous. I guarantee, she's the kind of person who, if some homeless guy came up to her and asked for change, she'd turn her head and sniff, "How can people live like that? What an animal!"
DO YOU THINK YOUR DOG IS YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Do you know the only reason why dogs don't eat people? Because they know they can't get away with it.
Tuesday, January 14, 2003
I think it sucks to break up with someone over the phone. Because, let's face it, you want to see that hilarious look of surprise on their face. When I was 19, a friend of mine broke up with his girlfriend over the phone - via song. He said, "Listen to my song: (to the tune of Shave and a Haircut), Dump dump dump dump dump, you're dumped."
Which I thought was in incredibly bad taste. I prefer the classics: (to he tune of Beethoven's 5th): "Dump dump dump dump - dump dump dump dump."*
I think the only thing worse is getting broken up with via e-mail. A woman did that to me once. What was worse was that the subject heading was, "GROW YOUR PENIS 3 - 6 INCHES NATURALLY!!!!" And the body read, " . . . and I'll come back to you."
The worst was I was once broken up with via Giant Novelty Check. Ed McMahon came to my door, "Liam, congratulations, you have won the ex-boyfriend Clearing House Sweepstakes!"
A woman once broke up with me via one of those telegrams the Army sends when your son dies overseas: "Mr. McEneaney, the Secretary of Defense regrets to inform you that your relationship has died. If it's any consolation, it went out gloriously in the Battle of the Attraction to the Fed-Ex Guy."
LUB 'IM OR LIEBERMAN
So Joe Lieberman has entered his hat into the race for the Democratic nomination. Great. He's really going to bring something new to the national debate; anti-Semitism. I'll bet a million dollars that six seconds after he announced his intention to run, some guy put his picture on a website with horns and a caption that reads "JEW HEBE-ERMAN."
He says he's "a new kind of Democrat." Oh really? How does having no chance of winning make him "different"? I mean, sure, unlike most other Domcrat candidates you'll see this year, he is a fascist. His social views make William Bennett look like Mr. Rogers.
I mean I'd be proud to see a Jew in the Oval Office, but let's be honest, he's a little too religious to get any national support.
The first Jewish President is going to have to be Reform. Really Reform. In fact, the first Jewish President will have to be a Catholic.
*Tip o' the mouse to Adam F. & Victor V.
Monday, January 13, 2003
I had an imaginary friend. Of course, I couldn't be an ordinary child and have an ordinary imaginary friend. No, my imaginary friend was black. Which sucked when I started going to school, because he ended up getting bussed to a school in the next neighborhood.
He would get really mad when cabdrivers wouldn't stop for him. I had to remind him that the reason why they acted like they couldn't see him was because they genuinely couldn't see him..
He ended up a civil rights activist. He was very big in the field of Equal Rights for the Imaginary. I still remember their chant; "We're here, oh wait no we aren't! Never mind!"
He ended up getting a the only kind of job a nonexistant entity can get; as Dick Cheney's conscience.
I'VE NEVER BEEN IN A THREESOME
The closest I've ever come was sleeping with a woman who had multiple personalities.
This needs about three more punchlines. Watch this space for more details!
SOME PEOPLE CALL ME THE SPACE COWBOY
But I prefer to be called the Space Construction Worker.
If your friends do call you the space cowboy, it's only because they're too passive-aggressive to say, "Hey buddy, maybe you should cut down on smoking so much weed."
Friday, January 10, 2003
A Heroic Fantasy Epic
Far past the vast and wasted lands of Grundymore,
Past the smoking pits of Elsindore, on the battlefields of Dreidledown,
Where man fought dwarf in feats of bravery and gore,
King Rassildon watched from high, peering under his - um, you know - that thing kings wear on top of their heads - their ears keep it from falling down.
Mookadoo the Mighty rode in from the east, the sun in his eyes,
His armor's fire-forged steel gleaming in the aforementioned sun,
His helmet made from the skull of Sabridon, Keeper of Lies,
Strapped across his back was his trusty axe Bloodlet, also known as Stopper-of-Barbarians-Having-Any-Fun.
He stopped on a bluff, his manly physique sillouheted,
Dramatically against the setting sun, atop his trusty steed Backlightning,
A fine white warhorse who rolled his mighty red eyes and snorted,
And as he cleared his throat to speak, the two armies stopped fightning.
He spoke thus, as he waved the mighty Bloodlet on high:
"Now is the time of Crapidon, mighty sorceror of Ocelot, keeper of the Sun,
"Now is the time of Rascalmoor, keep of the thrice-dead kings, lo three times did they die,
"But mostly, now is the time I shall let loose the mighty blade of Stopper-of-Barbarians-Having-Any-Fun!
"And then pow pow pow, yeah how you like me now!
"Any you biz-notches get in my motherfuckin' way,
"Oh shit, you call for mercy and you think I'm a stop?
"That's right bitch call yo' moms, call a cop,
"I'm the O.B., Original Barbarian shit, you know it, you know it,
"I got da gold, I got da diamonds wit da' bling,
"And I kill a motherfucking peasant shit as quick as I kill a king,
"So go ahead test me, arrest me, 'cause I come back wit' da quickness,
"Spreadin' my shit like that Black Plague sickness,
"I put da smackdown like Attila the Hun,
"Then shoot the shit with my Uzi gun."
Now where's my three-movie deal with Peter Jackson?
Thursday, January 09, 2003
I got a letter from a collection agency yesterday; apparently I owe the phone company some money.
This sentence stood out from the page, though:
"If you think that ignoring this debt will make it go away, you're wrong."
First of all, how did they read my mind?
Second of all, this is the first time I've gotten a guilt trip via collection letter. What's next? A letter that starts,
Your mother and I are very disappointed in you . . ."
NUCLEAR FAMILY CIRCUS
I am absolutely opposed to nuclear war; unless it leads directly to mutations. Because the destruction of everything I know and love would be a small price to pay for X-Ray vision.
Of course, knowing my luck, I'd probably get a stupid mutation, like the ability to see through cheese: "I can see all the way to the back of that deli case!"
I was born with a superpower; I have the ability to fly straight down. It doesn't matter if I'm on a hundred story building, if I jump off I can fly for like one or two minutes.
The problem is that it's the kind of superpower that can only foil crime once; and I have to have really good aim.
Wednesday, January 08, 2003
Today's entry has that teen-grossout-movie feel to it.
PRINCESS AND THE PEE
I've noticed at bars and clubs that, when the ladies' room is full, the women all rush into the men's room like conquering Vikings - "YEEEAGGHHH, WOO HOO!" Like they'd just struck a blow for liberty.
And yet, they get mad when I go into the ladies' room and pee all over the seats.
I like getting into elevators, because finally, I can fart.
I think it's interesting when someone says, "That gave me terrible gas."
Is there such a thing as "wonderful" gas?
"I ate Raisin Bran this morning, it gave me the best gas. It smelled like true love. A cancer patient breathed it in, and he didn't need chemo. My wife force-feeds me a box every morning."
People who wear those "Ten Reasons A Beer Is Better Than A Woman" shirts tend to look like they've made that choice many times in their lives, until it was no longer a choice for them.
Tuesday, January 07, 2003
is that someone looking for, say, this, will also find my blog.
That's right, my blog is #3 on this Google search.
DREW BARRYMORE DEBATE
Is she cute? It seems to me that she's one of those women that I judge on a day-to-day basis. Some days yes, some days not so much so.
WE ALL SCREAM SOMETIMES
I iwish I was as popular as ice cream. No one is ever unhappy to see ice cream enter a room. No one ever says, "Man, I wish you hadn't brough Ice Cream to this party." At an office, if it's a choice between firing a temp or getting rid of ice cream, you know who will win every time. In fact, a pint of Ben & Jerry's will probably get promoted way faster than you ever will. Nobody hates ice cream. The only people who hate ice cream are the cows they have to freeze to get the milk all cold.
Enough of the malarkey. Here's an attempt at a joke.
MY EX-ROOMMATE'S EX
My ex-roommate was disgusting. But he ended up dating a celebrity. I guess that's hat happens when you're a musician, you date celebrities.
He met this woman at the Coney Island Sideshow. Her name was - and I hope this doesn't end up on Page Six - her name was The Bearded Lady. I guess you've heard of her.
She used to hang out with the freaks all the time, and the thing was she kept trying to change him. She said she wanted to clean him up before she could introduce him to her friends.
One time they set me up on a blind date with one of her friends. Well, I guess technically it was a wish-I-was-blind date. (Alternate joke: "Actually, it was more of a I-hope-love-is-really-blind date.") I walked into the restaurant, and sitting there waiting for me was a half-man, half-woman. I walked up to him - her - it, and said, "Girlzilla, I presume?"
I gotta tell you, when the initial shock wore off, she was pretty hot.
He wasn't half-bad either.
It was a disaster. I found out afterwards that in order to get it to go out with me, they had told it that I was a dog-faced boy. And of course, it found out I wasn't. Around dessert, when he/she tried to hold my cake above my head and make me beg for it.
I know what you're thinking, "Liam, you're a handsome guy. How come it took so long for it to figure out you weren't the dog-faced boy?" The naswer is that I'm not used to eating at fancy restaurants, and when the waiter brought around the finger bowl, I tried to drink out of it.
But the story has a happy ending. See, we'd agreed to go Dutch, so when the check came, I paid half, she paid half, and he paid half. Which meant that I made money on the deal.
Saturday, January 04, 2003|
Q: How is a raven like a writing desk?
A: Poe wrote on both.
IN THE NIGHTMARE POST-APOCALYPSE WORLD TO COME, YOU CAN SING THIS OLD SONG TO YOUR CHILDREN SO THEY KNOW WHY THEIR HOME IS A WASTE-LAND POPULATED BY WRETCHED MUTANTS AND OUTLAW BANDS OF RAGGED, HOLLOW-EYED SURVIVORS
(to the tune of "Yankee Doodle Dandee)
George W. Bush came to town,
Riding on a pony.
Turned the weapon inspectors' findings down,
And called Saddam a phony.
Ol' Georgie B. wants a war,
Against his dad's old foil.
A victory he'll try to score,
And then we'll have more oil.
Friday, January 03, 2003
SINGING FOR YOUR SUPPRESSANT
I heard this guy advertising an appetite suppressant on the radio, he said he lost a hundred pouinds, and I figured, "Why not?" So I called the number, and I talked to a nice woman who told me that it was all natural - it didn't involve chemicals, drugs, or the music of Michael Bolton.
She said it cost fifty bucks, which I thought was prewtty steep, especially considering that you can buy like five rocks of crack for that much money. And crack is a proven weight-loss appetite suppressant. So I paid, and a few days later an envelope came in the mail. I opened it, and inside was a picture of myself naked. Even weirder was that it was autographed.
I don't remember taking that picture. Whether or not I lose weight, it definitely got me to stop drinking.
Thursday, January 02, 2003
And it was fun, except that I had to call the next day and apologize. See, I got drunk and said something really inappropriate: "I do."
I just got caught up in the ceremony.
Anyway, the three of us had a great honeymoon in Paris.
I'VE NEVER BEEN THE BEST MAN AT A WEDDING
I was once the "Worst Man," though. See, in some families the tradition is for the groom to cut the cake, and then smash it in the bride's face.
Apparently, it isn't a tradition to then shout "Food fight!" and start throwing chicken marsala around.
I've never done these jokes on stage, and I am 50% convinced they'll get a laugh, and fifty percent convinced they won't.