Tuesday, May 29, 2007
I TOOK MY OWN HEADSHOT
Boom! Just saved myself a few hundred dollars.
* * * * *
Here's two of the greatest jazz drummers of all time doing battle on the old Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. Ed Shaughnessy's great, but Buddy Rich wins hands-down. God DAMN!
And here's Buddy Rich doing battle with Animal on The Muppet Show:
What's great about the second clip is that he clearly takes it just as seriously as the first clip.
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* * * * *
Here's two of the greatest jazz drummers of all time doing battle on the old Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. Ed Shaughnessy's great, but Buddy Rich wins hands-down. God DAMN!
And here's Buddy Rich doing battle with Animal on The Muppet Show:
What's great about the second clip is that he clearly takes it just as seriously as the first clip.
Monday, May 28, 2007
IN DUBLIN'S FAIR CITY
I was walking around the other night, worrying about this European tour I've been planning. I'm excited about it, but I've been having my doubts, knowing how easy it is to arrive ina place where you don't know a lot of people and finding that the money you thought you were making isn't going to be there, or the people you were going to stay with can't put you up, or whatever. Wondering if I was doing the right thing or making a mistake.
So I put on my iPod shuffle, and I swear the first nine songs that came up:
1. The Boys From County Hell - The Pogues
2. Provo's Lullabye - Eire Og
3. Yo Ho, I'm A Provo/The Men Behind The Wire/Rock All - The Irish Brigade
4. Anarchy in the UK - The Sex Pistols
5. What Was It You Wanted? - Bob Dylan
6. Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes
7. Black Boys on Mopeds - Sinéad O'Connor*
8. I'm Afraid of Americans - David Bowie
9. The Irish Rover - The Pogues w/ The Dubliners
Clearly, I'm meant to go stir up trouble in the UK.
* A song whose chorus goes:
"England's not the mythical land of Madame George and roses
It's the home of police who kill blacks boys on mopeds
And I love my boy and that's why I'm leaving
I don't want him to be aware that there's
Any such thing as grieving."
* * * * *
There was a fire in a fireworks factory in Denmark, and a guy taped it and put it up on YouTube in five parts. It's all pretty good, but this is clearly the climax: the fire hits paydirt and there's a HUGE explosion:
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So I put on my iPod shuffle, and I swear the first nine songs that came up:
1. The Boys From County Hell - The Pogues
2. Provo's Lullabye - Eire Og
3. Yo Ho, I'm A Provo/The Men Behind The Wire/Rock All - The Irish Brigade
4. Anarchy in the UK - The Sex Pistols
5. What Was It You Wanted? - Bob Dylan
6. Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes
7. Black Boys on Mopeds - Sinéad O'Connor*
8. I'm Afraid of Americans - David Bowie
9. The Irish Rover - The Pogues w/ The Dubliners
Clearly, I'm meant to go stir up trouble in the UK.
* A song whose chorus goes:
"England's not the mythical land of Madame George and roses
It's the home of police who kill blacks boys on mopeds
And I love my boy and that's why I'm leaving
I don't want him to be aware that there's
Any such thing as grieving."
* * * * *
There was a fire in a fireworks factory in Denmark, and a guy taped it and put it up on YouTube in five parts. It's all pretty good, but this is clearly the climax: the fire hits paydirt and there's a HUGE explosion:
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
SHEA IT LOUD AND SHEA IT PROUD!
Last Wednesday, I went to see the Mets play at Shea Stadium. They were slated to play the Chicago Cubs, and the day before I'd bought these five dollar tickets, as part of a last-minute date with a woman. She'd stood me up before, and so it was no huge shock when she stood me up again that night. Stand me up, shame on you, stand me up twice, get taken off my MySpace friends list.
It was raining that night, and the game was slated to start at 7:10pm. I had a friend in from Irelad who was performing a show in the East Village that night at 11pm, so it was no big deal to me if the Mets game got rained out, if I got a rain check ticket or if there was a day/night doubleheader the next day.
So I hung out at home writing, watching the DVD of The Bob Newhart Show I'd Netflixed, and at 8:00pm the Mets official website said it was still just a rain delay, not cancelled. At 9:00 it was still a rain delay, and at 10:00pm, almost three hours after the game was supposed to start, it still hadn't been cancelled. So I said, "To hell with this," got my going-out clothes on, and prepared to head out for the evening to see my buddy do his show.
On my way, literally, out the door at about 10:10, three hours after the game was supposed to start, I turned on the TV just to confirm that they'd officially cancelled the game - sure enough, there were the Cubs, just starting to play. So I said, "Fuck it," put on my official NY Mets hooded sweatshirt, hopped on the subway to go to the game. On the subway. I met a guy who said, "You going to the game?'
We started chatting about the Mets, and he said he had an extra ticket, asked if I wanted to go see the game. At first I said no, because my experience has been that any random stranger who starts talking to me tends to be a lunatic. But then I decided what the hell, nothing form nothing is nothing - you really only experience new things in this life if you make a practice of saying "Yes," to randomness. And the worst that would happen would be, if he was really impossible to deal with, I would excuse myself to use the bathroom, head to the other side of the stadium, no huge loss.
So I sat with him in his seat in the Loge area right under the overhang, so we were dry. Turns out he's been a season ticket subscriber for a decade, and a very cool guy. Actually, the best part was that there were maybe 2,000 people in a stadium designed to hold 56,000. That might sound lonely, but it was actually very intimate, like watching the game with a large group of friends. And because it was a game that started three hours late on a windy, rainy night, anyone who was there was a true, dedicated fan, just excited to be watching the Mets play live. There was a very mellow, positive, excited vibe to the game, and it didn't hurt that Mets hammered the Cubs 8 - 1.
I got to see just-called-up rookie Carlos "Babyface" Gomez in action. Man, this kid is fast. Watch the above footage of him in a minor league game stealing second and third, much to the anger of Harrisburg Senators' manager John Stearns.
I started the evening with a date and shitty seats, and ended the evening with no date and a great seat. Afterwards, I found out that the guy is a cousin to a friend in comedy, a very cool and funny lady, so there was a lot of serendipity to the evening.
And I found out that I can trade these tickets for an upcoming game against the Minnesota Twins, so that might be the best value for your five dollar ticket ever.
* * * * *
Second-best value for the entertainment dollar? This video of someone vaccuuming their cat:
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It was raining that night, and the game was slated to start at 7:10pm. I had a friend in from Irelad who was performing a show in the East Village that night at 11pm, so it was no big deal to me if the Mets game got rained out, if I got a rain check ticket or if there was a day/night doubleheader the next day.
So I hung out at home writing, watching the DVD of The Bob Newhart Show I'd Netflixed, and at 8:00pm the Mets official website said it was still just a rain delay, not cancelled. At 9:00 it was still a rain delay, and at 10:00pm, almost three hours after the game was supposed to start, it still hadn't been cancelled. So I said, "To hell with this," got my going-out clothes on, and prepared to head out for the evening to see my buddy do his show.
On my way, literally, out the door at about 10:10, three hours after the game was supposed to start, I turned on the TV just to confirm that they'd officially cancelled the game - sure enough, there were the Cubs, just starting to play. So I said, "Fuck it," put on my official NY Mets hooded sweatshirt, hopped on the subway to go to the game. On the subway. I met a guy who said, "You going to the game?'
We started chatting about the Mets, and he said he had an extra ticket, asked if I wanted to go see the game. At first I said no, because my experience has been that any random stranger who starts talking to me tends to be a lunatic. But then I decided what the hell, nothing form nothing is nothing - you really only experience new things in this life if you make a practice of saying "Yes," to randomness. And the worst that would happen would be, if he was really impossible to deal with, I would excuse myself to use the bathroom, head to the other side of the stadium, no huge loss.
So I sat with him in his seat in the Loge area right under the overhang, so we were dry. Turns out he's been a season ticket subscriber for a decade, and a very cool guy. Actually, the best part was that there were maybe 2,000 people in a stadium designed to hold 56,000. That might sound lonely, but it was actually very intimate, like watching the game with a large group of friends. And because it was a game that started three hours late on a windy, rainy night, anyone who was there was a true, dedicated fan, just excited to be watching the Mets play live. There was a very mellow, positive, excited vibe to the game, and it didn't hurt that Mets hammered the Cubs 8 - 1.
I got to see just-called-up rookie Carlos "Babyface" Gomez in action. Man, this kid is fast. Watch the above footage of him in a minor league game stealing second and third, much to the anger of Harrisburg Senators' manager John Stearns.
I started the evening with a date and shitty seats, and ended the evening with no date and a great seat. Afterwards, I found out that the guy is a cousin to a friend in comedy, a very cool and funny lady, so there was a lot of serendipity to the evening.
And I found out that I can trade these tickets for an upcoming game against the Minnesota Twins, so that might be the best value for your five dollar ticket ever.
* * * * *
Second-best value for the entertainment dollar? This video of someone vaccuuming their cat:
Friday, May 18, 2007
HERE'S SOME FUN STUFF YOU CAN CATCH ME AT THIS UPCOMING WEEKEND-ISH TIME SLOT:
This Sunday I'll be hosting Rock Star Karaoke at Mo Pitkin's - a live band karaoke experience, where you sing in front of a real live rock band. they have hundreds of songs, and it is hella fun.
* * * * *
MAY 21st
Tell Your Friends!
at the Lolita bar!
266 Broome St., at the corner of Allen!
8:00pm - FREE!
Host: TBA
Acts:
Reggie Watts - as seen at pretty much every major comedy festival, and several major music festivals. Last time he did Tell Your Friends!, an audience member was moved to write this.
Liam McEneaney - as seen on Comedy Central's "Premium Blend" and VH1's "Best Week Ever"
Rachel Feinstein - as seen on Coemdy Central's "Premium Blend" and "Shorties Wachin' Shorties" and at the Montreal Comedy Festival
and we say goodbye to our friend, comedian Claudia Cogan
AND MORE!
* * * * *
When I was a kid, I loved The Smurfs. But this particular episode never failed to scare the living crap out of me:
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* * * * *
MAY 21st
Tell Your Friends!
at the Lolita bar!
266 Broome St., at the corner of Allen!
8:00pm - FREE!
Host: TBA
Acts:
Reggie Watts - as seen at pretty much every major comedy festival, and several major music festivals. Last time he did Tell Your Friends!, an audience member was moved to write this.
Liam McEneaney - as seen on Comedy Central's "Premium Blend" and VH1's "Best Week Ever"
Rachel Feinstein - as seen on Coemdy Central's "Premium Blend" and "Shorties Wachin' Shorties" and at the Montreal Comedy Festival
and we say goodbye to our friend, comedian Claudia Cogan
AND MORE!
* * * * *
When I was a kid, I loved The Smurfs. But this particular episode never failed to scare the living crap out of me:
Monday, May 14, 2007
THREE THINGS THAT I WILL MISS
1) The bees. Some day, the next generation will ask exactly when we knew the environment had changed for the worse. We will say it's when the bees disappeared. They will ask why we did nothing. We will have no good answer. To hell with thsoe snot-nosed next-generation punks with their judgmental questions; now I'm glad we're leaving this planet a smoking crater. F them.
2) Mariano Rivera. Seems like the NY Yankees owned this town for over a decade, and now that the Mets are finally good enough to take on the prime-era Yankees (1994 - 2000), they've gone into a steep decline. When Mariano Rivera was on top of his game, he was the best closer in American baseball history. Period. Watching him, and - by extension, his team - play was to know that you were truly living in a golden age, a time in history that would never be replicated. And goddammit, I want to watch the current incarnation of the Mets beat the pants off of them.
3) Edgar, my old cat. When I was very young, I trapped him under a table and boxed him in with open picture books and told him he couldn't leave until he learned hwo to read. I genuinely thought that would work. One night, I watched Bridge on the River Kwai with him on TNT, and during the commercials he would get up and walk into the kitchen or bathroom. But when the commercials were over, he'd come back and sit down on the couch next to me and continue watchign the movie. Good cat, that.
* * * * *
MONDAY, MAY 14th
Tell Your Friends!
at the Lolita bar!
266 Broome St., at the corner of Allen!
8:00pm - FREE!
Host: Michelle Collins - from the Best Week Ever blog
Acts:
John Oliver - is a correspondant for "The Daily Show w/ Jon Stewart"
Lizz Winstead - creator of "The Daily Show," and has hosted her own show "Unfiltered" on Air America and had her own "Comedy Central Presents: Lizz Winstead" 1/2-hour special
David McSavage - a comedian from Dublin who has appeared on Ireland's "The Late Late Show" four times and on Denmark's "Stand-up.dk"
Kristen Schaal - has appeared on Comedy Central's "Live at Gotham," in the smash comedy "Norbit," and was voted Best Alternative Comedian at the Aspen Comedy Festival
Liam McEneaney - as seen on Comedy Central's "Premium Blend" and VH1's "Best Week Ever"
Fiona Walsh - performed at the Galway Comedy Festival, the Tropicana, The Irish Arts Center and The Irish Rep
and a special visit from our house band, A Brief View of the Hudson
WHAT THE PRESS HAS SAID ABOUT "TELL YOUR FRIENDS!"
* Time Out New York called it a "DON'T MISS" twice now, and said: "With a slew of talented stand-ups . . . and folk-rock duo 'A Brief View of the Hudson,' Liam McEneaney's new show—and 'workout comedy room'—is sure to please."
* The NY Daily News made it a Monday pick of the day.
* AM New York put it in their "Best Bets" section.
* "Editor's Pick!" - clubfreetime.com
* The Onion says, "Though it's pegged as a 'workout room' for comics to test their new(ish) material, Liam McEneaney's weekly show Tell Your Friends flexes enough comedic muscle to pull its weight alongside more established downtown shows. Demetri Martin, Slovin & Allen, and Late Night With Conan O'Brien writer Brian Kiley are among the stand-ups who have squeezed into Lolita's narrow space since the show's debut this summer, alongside the surprisingly tolerable resident folk duo A Brief View of the Hudson."
* "It's been a while since we wrote about Tell Your Friends but this weekly comedy series deserves a nod. Every Monday they belt out top notch comedy at rock bottom prices with performers who have appeared on Comedy Central, Conan O'Brien, Jimmy Kimmel, and more." - FreeNYC.net
ABOUT OUR HOUSE BAND
A Brief View of the Hudson is a folk-rock duo that blows away audiences at every show they play.
Here's what the press has said:
* "BEST FOLK DUO"
"It's rare that we like a band from the first chord. Yet the first time we saw folk duo A Brief View of the Hudson play at the Bowery Poetry Club we were hooked.
"Ann Enzminger and Nicholas Nace incorporate many of the best characteristics of both country music and classic rock without sounding derivative...Enzminger is a tiny woman, a hair taller than five feet, but with an opera-trained voice as big and sweet as a bowling ball–size Hershey Kiss. Nace's twangy talk-singing adds a quirky and ear-catching roughness; we crave the combination time and again." - The NY Press
* "It is not often that a band sounds like nothing you've ever heard & still sounds good. That's what you get from A Brief View of the Hudson." - The NY Sun
* "A Brief View of the Hudson features Ann Enzminger's arrestingly powerful vocals, which are well tuned to the duo's graceful songs of indie-folk heartbreak." -Time Out NY
.
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2) Mariano Rivera. Seems like the NY Yankees owned this town for over a decade, and now that the Mets are finally good enough to take on the prime-era Yankees (1994 - 2000), they've gone into a steep decline. When Mariano Rivera was on top of his game, he was the best closer in American baseball history. Period. Watching him, and - by extension, his team - play was to know that you were truly living in a golden age, a time in history that would never be replicated. And goddammit, I want to watch the current incarnation of the Mets beat the pants off of them.
3) Edgar, my old cat. When I was very young, I trapped him under a table and boxed him in with open picture books and told him he couldn't leave until he learned hwo to read. I genuinely thought that would work. One night, I watched Bridge on the River Kwai with him on TNT, and during the commercials he would get up and walk into the kitchen or bathroom. But when the commercials were over, he'd come back and sit down on the couch next to me and continue watchign the movie. Good cat, that.
* * * * *
MONDAY, MAY 14th
Tell Your Friends!
at the Lolita bar!
266 Broome St., at the corner of Allen!
8:00pm - FREE!
Host: Michelle Collins - from the Best Week Ever blog
Acts:
John Oliver - is a correspondant for "The Daily Show w/ Jon Stewart"
Lizz Winstead - creator of "The Daily Show," and has hosted her own show "Unfiltered" on Air America and had her own "Comedy Central Presents: Lizz Winstead" 1/2-hour special
David McSavage - a comedian from Dublin who has appeared on Ireland's "The Late Late Show" four times and on Denmark's "Stand-up.dk"
Kristen Schaal - has appeared on Comedy Central's "Live at Gotham," in the smash comedy "Norbit," and was voted Best Alternative Comedian at the Aspen Comedy Festival
Liam McEneaney - as seen on Comedy Central's "Premium Blend" and VH1's "Best Week Ever"
Fiona Walsh - performed at the Galway Comedy Festival, the Tropicana, The Irish Arts Center and The Irish Rep
and a special visit from our house band, A Brief View of the Hudson
WHAT THE PRESS HAS SAID ABOUT "TELL YOUR FRIENDS!"
* Time Out New York called it a "DON'T MISS" twice now, and said: "With a slew of talented stand-ups . . . and folk-rock duo 'A Brief View of the Hudson,' Liam McEneaney's new show—and 'workout comedy room'—is sure to please."
* The NY Daily News made it a Monday pick of the day.
* AM New York put it in their "Best Bets" section.
* "Editor's Pick!" - clubfreetime.com
* The Onion says, "Though it's pegged as a 'workout room' for comics to test their new(ish) material, Liam McEneaney's weekly show Tell Your Friends flexes enough comedic muscle to pull its weight alongside more established downtown shows. Demetri Martin, Slovin & Allen, and Late Night With Conan O'Brien writer Brian Kiley are among the stand-ups who have squeezed into Lolita's narrow space since the show's debut this summer, alongside the surprisingly tolerable resident folk duo A Brief View of the Hudson."
* "It's been a while since we wrote about Tell Your Friends but this weekly comedy series deserves a nod. Every Monday they belt out top notch comedy at rock bottom prices with performers who have appeared on Comedy Central, Conan O'Brien, Jimmy Kimmel, and more." - FreeNYC.net
ABOUT OUR HOUSE BAND
A Brief View of the Hudson is a folk-rock duo that blows away audiences at every show they play.
Here's what the press has said:
* "BEST FOLK DUO"
"It's rare that we like a band from the first chord. Yet the first time we saw folk duo A Brief View of the Hudson play at the Bowery Poetry Club we were hooked.
"Ann Enzminger and Nicholas Nace incorporate many of the best characteristics of both country music and classic rock without sounding derivative...Enzminger is a tiny woman, a hair taller than five feet, but with an opera-trained voice as big and sweet as a bowling ball–size Hershey Kiss. Nace's twangy talk-singing adds a quirky and ear-catching roughness; we crave the combination time and again." - The NY Press
* "It is not often that a band sounds like nothing you've ever heard & still sounds good. That's what you get from A Brief View of the Hudson." - The NY Sun
* "A Brief View of the Hudson features Ann Enzminger's arrestingly powerful vocals, which are well tuned to the duo's graceful songs of indie-folk heartbreak." -Time Out NY
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Labels: bees disappeared, edgar my old cat, mariano rivera, tell your freinds at the lolita bar, things I will miss
Thursday, May 10, 2007
HAMAS DONE FUCKED UP
They've created a children's show to teach little kids the joys of Jihad and "annihilating the Jews" by using a Mickey Mouse clone:
Which means that, forget the US Army, forget the Israeli Army - they're going to get attacked by the most vicious bloodthirsty army in the world - the Army of Disney Lawyers.
Disney lawyers are scary - powerful people in Hollywood shit their pants when they hear the Disney lawyers are after them.
Those guys think they hate the Jews now, wait until they have to deal with Harvard Law School Class of '00.
If they weren't dedicated to destroying me and everyone I know, I'd feel sorry for them.
* * * * *
My friend Bryan forwarded this to me, and so I ask you dear readers - what the fuck is going on here?
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Which means that, forget the US Army, forget the Israeli Army - they're going to get attacked by the most vicious bloodthirsty army in the world - the Army of Disney Lawyers.
Disney lawyers are scary - powerful people in Hollywood shit their pants when they hear the Disney lawyers are after them.
Those guys think they hate the Jews now, wait until they have to deal with Harvard Law School Class of '00.
If they weren't dedicated to destroying me and everyone I know, I'd feel sorry for them.
* * * * *
My friend Bryan forwarded this to me, and so I ask you dear readers - what the fuck is going on here?
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
APPARENTLY, THE STUDENT LOAN PEOPLE ARE READING THIS BLOG
Showed up at the Lolita Bar to do my show last night, and found out that someone had called the bar and left a message. Turned out, it was the student loan people.
Now, I'm not sure what they were thinking was going to happen; maybe I'd call and say, "Congratulations - you know how to both Google and spell my name right." I mean, if I'm producing a free show, clearly I'm not exactly raking in the dough.
The student loan people crack me up, because they call and threaten me:
"You're never going to be able to buy a house."
"I know."
"And you're never going to buy a car."
"I know. That's what i just told you, that I can't afford it. Wait, a second, what the hell did I spend all this money on? College was useless."
I'm really not sure what their big guns are; can you repossess everything I learned about Medievel Literature? Because bad news there, I didn't. In fact, I'm pretty sure someone owes me a refund. Also, the only way someon could fuck me more financially than I currently am right now, is if they handed me a hundred dollar bill that was attached to a string and yanked it away at the last second.
And you're probably thinking, "Liam, you've got a pretty easy-going attitude towards massive, crushing debt." I figure, these people are calling a bar where I hold a free show and make no money, clearly they don't take their job that seriously. Why should I? (By the way, this isn't a dare to show me how seriously you take this.)
* * * * *
Bob Dylan can't figure out how to turn his keyboard on:
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Now, I'm not sure what they were thinking was going to happen; maybe I'd call and say, "Congratulations - you know how to both Google and spell my name right." I mean, if I'm producing a free show, clearly I'm not exactly raking in the dough.
The student loan people crack me up, because they call and threaten me:
"You're never going to be able to buy a house."
"I know."
"And you're never going to buy a car."
"I know. That's what i just told you, that I can't afford it. Wait, a second, what the hell did I spend all this money on? College was useless."
I'm really not sure what their big guns are; can you repossess everything I learned about Medievel Literature? Because bad news there, I didn't. In fact, I'm pretty sure someone owes me a refund. Also, the only way someon could fuck me more financially than I currently am right now, is if they handed me a hundred dollar bill that was attached to a string and yanked it away at the last second.
And you're probably thinking, "Liam, you've got a pretty easy-going attitude towards massive, crushing debt." I figure, these people are calling a bar where I hold a free show and make no money, clearly they don't take their job that seriously. Why should I? (By the way, this isn't a dare to show me how seriously you take this.)
* * * * *
Bob Dylan can't figure out how to turn his keyboard on:
Labels: student loans
Monday, May 07, 2007
DID AN INTERVIEW WITH GOTHAMIST
And here it is.
* * * * *
There used to be an appetite-suppressant "diet" candy called Ayds. In the '70s, it was one of the top-selling diet products out there. Then, somewhere in the early-to-mid-80s, people stopped buying it so much.
The ads for it are now, of course, hilarious. Here's an unfortunate one from 1982 about the "Ayds Diet Plan":
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* * * * *
There used to be an appetite-suppressant "diet" candy called Ayds. In the '70s, it was one of the top-selling diet products out there. Then, somewhere in the early-to-mid-80s, people stopped buying it so much.
The ads for it are now, of course, hilarious. Here's an unfortunate one from 1982 about the "Ayds Diet Plan":
Labels: Ayds
Friday, May 04, 2007
TELL YOUR FRIENDS!
No fun post today. Bad head cold + allergies = I can barely think today.
* * * * *
MAY 7th
Tell Your Friends!
at the Lolita bar!
266 Broome St., at the corner of Allen!
8:00pm - FREE!
Host: Liam McEneaney
Acts:
Brian Kiley - a writer for "Late Night w/ Conan O'Brien" who has been seen on his own "Comedy Central Presents: Brian Kiley" 1/2-hour special, "Late Night w/ Conan O'Brien," "The Tonight Show w/ jay Leno," and "The Late Show w/ David Letterman"
Tom Shillue - has been seen on his own "Comedy Central Presents: Tom Shillue" 1/2-hour special, and "Late Night w/ Conan O'Brien." He just released an album called "OVERCONFIDENT!"
Leo Allen - he spent a few years writing for "Saturday Night Live," and has been seen on "Late Night w/ Conan O'Brien," and his own "Comedy Central Presents: Slovin & Allen" 1/2-hour special
Josh Comers - the best NYC comic to have no TV credits.
Andres DuBouchet - from Comedy Central's "MotherLoad" and the late, lamented Giant Tuesday Night of Amazing Inventions and Also There Is A Game!
The Rob & Mark Show! - had their own show, "Geek Ray Vision," on Spike TV
And what would Tell Your Friends! be without our house band - A Brief View of the Hudson
WHAT THE PRESS HAS SAID ABOUT "TELL YOUR FRIENDS!"
* Time Out New York called it a "DON'T MISS" twice now, and said: "With a slew of talented stand-ups . . . and folk-rock duo 'A Brief View of the Hudson,' Liam McEneaney's new show—and 'workout comedy room'—is sure to please."
* The NY Daily News made it a Monday pick of the day.
* AM New York put it in their "Best Bets" section.
* "Editor's Pick!" - clubfreetime.com
* The Onion says, "Though it's pegged as a 'workout room' for comics to test their new(ish) material, Liam McEneaney's weekly show Tell Your Friends flexes enough comedic muscle to pull its weight alongside more established downtown shows. Demetri Martin, Slovin & Allen, and Late Night With Conan O'Brien writer Brian Kiley are among the stand-ups who have squeezed into Lolita's narrow space since the show's debut this summer, alongside the surprisingly tolerable resident folk duo A Brief View of the Hudson."
* "It's been a while since we wrote about Tell Your Friends but this weekly comedy series deserves a nod. Every Monday they belt out top notch comedy at rock bottom prices with performers who have appeared on Comedy Central, Conan O'Brien, Jimmy Kimmel, and more." - FreeNYC.net
ABOUT OUR HOUSE BAND
A Brief View of the Hudson is a folk-rock duo that blows away audiences at every show they play.
Here's what the press has said:
* "BEST FOLK DUO"
"It's rare that we like a band from the first chord. Yet the first time we saw folk duo A Brief View of the Hudson play at the Bowery Poetry Club we were hooked.
"Ann Enzminger and Nicholas Nace incorporate many of the best characteristics of both country music and classic rock without sounding derivative...Enzminger is a tiny woman, a hair taller than five feet, but with an opera-trained voice as big and sweet as a bowling ball–size Hershey Kiss. Nace's twangy talk-singing adds a quirky and ear-catching roughness; we crave the combination time and again." - The NY Press
* "It is not often that a band sounds like nothing you've ever heard & still sounds good. That's what you get from A Brief View of the Hudson." - The NY Sun
* "A Brief View of the Hudson features Ann Enzminger's arrestingly powerful vocals, which are well tuned to the duo's graceful songs of indie-folk heartbreak." -Time Out NY
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* * * * *
MAY 7th
Tell Your Friends!
at the Lolita bar!
266 Broome St., at the corner of Allen!
8:00pm - FREE!
Host: Liam McEneaney
Acts:
Brian Kiley - a writer for "Late Night w/ Conan O'Brien" who has been seen on his own "Comedy Central Presents: Brian Kiley" 1/2-hour special, "Late Night w/ Conan O'Brien," "The Tonight Show w/ jay Leno," and "The Late Show w/ David Letterman"
Tom Shillue - has been seen on his own "Comedy Central Presents: Tom Shillue" 1/2-hour special, and "Late Night w/ Conan O'Brien." He just released an album called "OVERCONFIDENT!"
Leo Allen - he spent a few years writing for "Saturday Night Live," and has been seen on "Late Night w/ Conan O'Brien," and his own "Comedy Central Presents: Slovin & Allen" 1/2-hour special
Josh Comers - the best NYC comic to have no TV credits.
Andres DuBouchet - from Comedy Central's "MotherLoad" and the late, lamented Giant Tuesday Night of Amazing Inventions and Also There Is A Game!
The Rob & Mark Show! - had their own show, "Geek Ray Vision," on Spike TV
And what would Tell Your Friends! be without our house band - A Brief View of the Hudson
WHAT THE PRESS HAS SAID ABOUT "TELL YOUR FRIENDS!"
* Time Out New York called it a "DON'T MISS" twice now, and said: "With a slew of talented stand-ups . . . and folk-rock duo 'A Brief View of the Hudson,' Liam McEneaney's new show—and 'workout comedy room'—is sure to please."
* The NY Daily News made it a Monday pick of the day.
* AM New York put it in their "Best Bets" section.
* "Editor's Pick!" - clubfreetime.com
* The Onion says, "Though it's pegged as a 'workout room' for comics to test their new(ish) material, Liam McEneaney's weekly show Tell Your Friends flexes enough comedic muscle to pull its weight alongside more established downtown shows. Demetri Martin, Slovin & Allen, and Late Night With Conan O'Brien writer Brian Kiley are among the stand-ups who have squeezed into Lolita's narrow space since the show's debut this summer, alongside the surprisingly tolerable resident folk duo A Brief View of the Hudson."
* "It's been a while since we wrote about Tell Your Friends but this weekly comedy series deserves a nod. Every Monday they belt out top notch comedy at rock bottom prices with performers who have appeared on Comedy Central, Conan O'Brien, Jimmy Kimmel, and more." - FreeNYC.net
ABOUT OUR HOUSE BAND
A Brief View of the Hudson is a folk-rock duo that blows away audiences at every show they play.
Here's what the press has said:
* "BEST FOLK DUO"
"It's rare that we like a band from the first chord. Yet the first time we saw folk duo A Brief View of the Hudson play at the Bowery Poetry Club we were hooked.
"Ann Enzminger and Nicholas Nace incorporate many of the best characteristics of both country music and classic rock without sounding derivative...Enzminger is a tiny woman, a hair taller than five feet, but with an opera-trained voice as big and sweet as a bowling ball–size Hershey Kiss. Nace's twangy talk-singing adds a quirky and ear-catching roughness; we crave the combination time and again." - The NY Press
* "It is not often that a band sounds like nothing you've ever heard & still sounds good. That's what you get from A Brief View of the Hudson." - The NY Sun
* "A Brief View of the Hudson features Ann Enzminger's arrestingly powerful vocals, which are well tuned to the duo's graceful songs of indie-folk heartbreak." -Time Out NY
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
THREE DIFFERENT MEMOS TO THREE DIFFERENT NEIGHBORS
I read this at my show last night. I'd posted an earlier version of this last year.
MEMO #1 - TO: The Neighbor Who Stole My Doormat
RE: What the Fuck?
Okay, I know it’s been two-and-a-half years, but I honestly still can’t believe it. And so I have to ask; come on guy, you really needed to steal my doormat? My doormat?
And we’re not even talking about an ornamental, expensive doormat – the kind embroidered by a young child in a dark factory in the heart of Taiwan; the kind with the word “WELCOME” woven in over an irresistibly crude caricature of puppies playfully squirming under a doormat of their own, their big eyes staring straight through your soul; the kind that you can only find in an elegant, out-of-the-way specialty store like K-Mart or Target. And I understand that not everyone has the rare combination of both ten seconds and six dollars that it takes to go out and buy one of their own. And if I had owned this kind of extravagantly decorative doormat, I would understand a working man’s need to steal it, to give his family a small taste of the same lavish, luxurious lifestyle that Doukhobors like myself enjoy in our rent-controlled apartments in the heart of Queens.
But that’s not the kind of doormat we’re talking about, is it? The kind of doormat we’re talking about, the kind that you stole under the dark cover of night, is dirty and beige; it’s the kind of doormat that I got not from Wal-Mart, nor even from Kiki’s 99-Cent Emporium, but rather from the relatives of an elderly neighbor who had recently died, shuffling off this mortal coil in housedress and slippers, plastic bags clutched in her hand, a faded babushka on her head and a complaint about the heat left unspoken on her tongue. That’s right; you stole a free, dead woman’s doormat.
To be honest, I’m not even angry so much as I am completely baffled; what, exactly, did you think you were going to do? Just put it down outside of your apartment, the only place you could logically use it, and hope that I wouldn’t go door-to-door through the building hallway looking for it?
In the annals of crime, stealing a neighbor’s doormat falls somewhere between mugging your boss in the elevator on the way up to the office and bursting into a police precinct, waving your shotgun in the air, and declaring that the next person who moves gets it. Which is to say that it falls exactly halfway between being “poorly thought out” and “fucking retarded.”
And if you can’t use a doormat for its intended purpose, what exactly would you do with it? Sell it on eBay? Not that I would put it past you; after all, the person who would steal a used dime-store doormat is the exact same person who has undoubtedly, at several points in their life, had a small, swarthy man named Chico calmly inform them that “you ain’t can’t have the weed if you ain’t don’t gots the cash.”
And so I scoured Craig’s List, searching for the tell-tale ad: “FOR SALE,” I imagined it would say, “Doormat, gently used – NO QUESTIONS ASKED! Serial numbers have been filed off. Am looking for best reasonable offer – cash, food, or even MetroCard swipe into subway.”
Or perhaps this doormat was of some value to you, a value that I myself did not ascertain and could only truly appreciate once it was gone from my life. In my mind’s eye I can see you running through the building, clad in an Indiana Jones leather jacket and fedora, clutching your bleeding, gunshot arm as dark-suited thugs from the Russian mob close in fast. Trapped in a corner, desperate, you wheel around, revealing a Luger held to the head of a dirty beige doormat trembling in the crook of your arm.
“Don’t do anything we’ll both regret,” says a large man who steps from the shadows, a deep scar running down the side of his face, a gloved hand removing a pair of $500 Ray Bans, revealing one eye made of milky-white glass, the other filled with a mixture of hatred and respect.
You shake your head once: “No.” You pant for breath, swallow, then add, “Tell your men to step back and give us safe conduct, Vladimir. Now. Or the only place this doormat lies is inside the entrance of a mausoleum.”
He gives you the once-over; he knows that after what went down in Morocco, where he watched a small, frayed bathroom rug die in his arms, that you’d be just crazy enough to do it. He signals to his men, and they step back, warily placing their guns halfway into their holsters.
“You’ve won this round,” he says. “But I’ll return. Even you can’t watch forever. One day you’ll be napping, or drunk, or out of your house for ten minutes to get some milk from the store. And you’ll leave that doormat alone and unguarded. And when you do, I’ll be there. And I can tell you now, I won’t have to steal it away; it will come with me, and willingly.”
And you know in your heart that he’s right. You may have that doormat for now; hell, you may even love it as much as once I did, but you’ll never own it. The tread-worn beauty that makes it a treasure is also its biggest curse. This doormat was born to roam free, my friend, and no matter what kind of care you take of it, there’s going to be a morning when you awake to find it gone, and with only the memories to sustain you.
*
MEMO #2 TO: The Neighbor Whose Wifi Signal I’ve Been Stealing – I Mean, “Sharing”
RE: Constant Service Outages
Hey “Linksys Underscore AP Underscore 77.” What’s going on here? As a comedian and writer who works from his apartment, the bulk of my day is spent e-mailing people who could potentially hire me, then checking my Fantasy Baseball team, then my MySpace page to see if any 22 year-old tattooed hotties in the East Village want to be my imaginary friend, then my blog’s statcounter to see who’s been Googling me. Between that and all the music I download from my MP3 blogs, your Internet connection is one of the most important tools of my trade. Perhaps in your selfishness, you can’t understand this; but when you aren’t responsible enough to pay your bill in a timely manner, that affects me.
As an adult I’ve learned to accept responsibility, and I’m here to tell you that it’s time that you do the same. If you don’t have the money for your high-speed Internet bill, perhaps you should get a second job. Or do what I do – call my parents and ask if you can borrow it. Don’t worry; experience shows that my parents are very lenient lenders, and won’t expect you to pay them back any time soon.
Thanks for reading this memo; I was going to e-mail you, but I don’t know your address, and even if I did, well, our Internet’s down.
*
MEMO #3 TO: The Guy in The Apartment Whose Window Faces Mine
RE: Your Strict Daily Regimen of Blasting The Same Five Metallica Songs Over and Over and Singing Along at the Top of Your Lungs, Interspersed With The Most Disturbing Deep-Throated Hacking Cough Heard Outside of a 1920s TB Ward
Hey buddy, I understand that you need a job. I know, it’s hard finding work that matches your unique skill-set. After all, I’ve been on more than one interview in my life, and the question, “Where do you see yourself in five years?” is rarely followed with, “Now, can you do an impression of Lars Ulrich as if he were about to lose a lung?”
Luckily, aside from my work solving The Thrilling Adventure of Liam McEneaney and the Case of the Missing Doormat, I seem to be blessed with not a little spare time. So I thought I’d do the neighborly thing and help you come up with some career options.
At first I thought, “Join The Army.” But then I realized that, were you to become a member of the Armed Forces, you are the guy who gets fragged by his own unit, probably somewhere during the second chorus of Unforgiven. Also, America tends to send her best and brightest sons into battle against her foes, and let’s be honest with each other – the only opposing army theat might be intimidated by an aging, phlegmatic metalhead would be the KISS Army.
Then it hit me - you could be a Wedding DJ! You’ve got the experience; by throwing your windows wide and sharing your love of mainstream speed metal, you’re already acting as a DJ for the entire neighborhood.
On the other hand, there’s only so many times that the happy couple will be able to listen to Enter Sandman before requesting that you play something a little more danceable, like Hey Ya! or The Beer-Barrel Polka. And when they do, you’re going to have to look them in the eye and say slowly and steadily, so they know that you’re completely serious, “The first time ever I heard The Black Album, I knew I was put here on this planet for one purpose and one purpose only; to share the beauty of this music with the world, whether it wants me to or not. And I know that the doctors are wrong, that this lower respiratory tract infection isn’t the Black Lung, but rather a punishment from the Demon God of Rock n’ Roll Himself for ignoring my Mission, for not playing these same five Metallica songs over and over.”
Then the groom will regroup, take a breath, and say, and say in the same gentle, patient tone of voice he would use were he placating a small child holding a loaded gun, that he completely understands where you’re coming from, but perhaps at the very least you would be so kind as to not scream along with the song, screaming long and loud like you were trying to awaken the departed souls of all the brain cells you killed smoking weed as a teenager; a teenager glorying in the profoundly adult freedoms of the Meadowland’s parking lot pre-concert bakefest.
And then you will have no choice but to slowly and dramatically take the wad of cash you were paid for the gig – and you will insist on being paid in cash, as you don’t believe in so-called banks and their “rules” about minimum balances – and then you will take that cash out of your pocket and then you will throw it in the bride’s face and then you will shriek the lyrics of Master of Puppets as loud as you can, interspersed with the juiciest lung-deep hacking coughs possible. You will shriek like The Devil unleashed from a pneumonia clinic in the deepest bowels of Metal Hell. Because no one can put a price on your art, man.
And then you should take the money back, because let’s be honest; if a couple hires a DJ for their wedding based solely on the fact that he’s five hundred dollars cheaper than the competition, and they pay him in cash in advance without asking for references or even a playlist of the kinds of records he plans to spin, said couple doesn’t deserve that fifty bucks plus carfare. And you will take that fifty bucks, and - this being the most important part – you will go out and buy a new fucking album by anyone other than Metallica.
And if there’s any money left over, and if you find it in your heart, in return for my graciousness, and my compassion and my care, and my taking the time to help a stranger in need, perhaps you would be so kind as to buy me a new doormat.
* * * * *
I love YouTube as much for the randomness as for the quality. Sometimes you just have to say, "Okay, someone went and postedthe first twenty minutes of Eddie Murphy: Raw? Why not?"
What I'm saying is, enjoy the first twenty minutes of Eddie Murphy: Raw:
|
MEMO #1 - TO: The Neighbor Who Stole My Doormat
RE: What the Fuck?
Okay, I know it’s been two-and-a-half years, but I honestly still can’t believe it. And so I have to ask; come on guy, you really needed to steal my doormat? My doormat?
And we’re not even talking about an ornamental, expensive doormat – the kind embroidered by a young child in a dark factory in the heart of Taiwan; the kind with the word “WELCOME” woven in over an irresistibly crude caricature of puppies playfully squirming under a doormat of their own, their big eyes staring straight through your soul; the kind that you can only find in an elegant, out-of-the-way specialty store like K-Mart or Target. And I understand that not everyone has the rare combination of both ten seconds and six dollars that it takes to go out and buy one of their own. And if I had owned this kind of extravagantly decorative doormat, I would understand a working man’s need to steal it, to give his family a small taste of the same lavish, luxurious lifestyle that Doukhobors like myself enjoy in our rent-controlled apartments in the heart of Queens.
But that’s not the kind of doormat we’re talking about, is it? The kind of doormat we’re talking about, the kind that you stole under the dark cover of night, is dirty and beige; it’s the kind of doormat that I got not from Wal-Mart, nor even from Kiki’s 99-Cent Emporium, but rather from the relatives of an elderly neighbor who had recently died, shuffling off this mortal coil in housedress and slippers, plastic bags clutched in her hand, a faded babushka on her head and a complaint about the heat left unspoken on her tongue. That’s right; you stole a free, dead woman’s doormat.
To be honest, I’m not even angry so much as I am completely baffled; what, exactly, did you think you were going to do? Just put it down outside of your apartment, the only place you could logically use it, and hope that I wouldn’t go door-to-door through the building hallway looking for it?
In the annals of crime, stealing a neighbor’s doormat falls somewhere between mugging your boss in the elevator on the way up to the office and bursting into a police precinct, waving your shotgun in the air, and declaring that the next person who moves gets it. Which is to say that it falls exactly halfway between being “poorly thought out” and “fucking retarded.”
And if you can’t use a doormat for its intended purpose, what exactly would you do with it? Sell it on eBay? Not that I would put it past you; after all, the person who would steal a used dime-store doormat is the exact same person who has undoubtedly, at several points in their life, had a small, swarthy man named Chico calmly inform them that “you ain’t can’t have the weed if you ain’t don’t gots the cash.”
And so I scoured Craig’s List, searching for the tell-tale ad: “FOR SALE,” I imagined it would say, “Doormat, gently used – NO QUESTIONS ASKED! Serial numbers have been filed off. Am looking for best reasonable offer – cash, food, or even MetroCard swipe into subway.”
Or perhaps this doormat was of some value to you, a value that I myself did not ascertain and could only truly appreciate once it was gone from my life. In my mind’s eye I can see you running through the building, clad in an Indiana Jones leather jacket and fedora, clutching your bleeding, gunshot arm as dark-suited thugs from the Russian mob close in fast. Trapped in a corner, desperate, you wheel around, revealing a Luger held to the head of a dirty beige doormat trembling in the crook of your arm.
“Don’t do anything we’ll both regret,” says a large man who steps from the shadows, a deep scar running down the side of his face, a gloved hand removing a pair of $500 Ray Bans, revealing one eye made of milky-white glass, the other filled with a mixture of hatred and respect.
You shake your head once: “No.” You pant for breath, swallow, then add, “Tell your men to step back and give us safe conduct, Vladimir. Now. Or the only place this doormat lies is inside the entrance of a mausoleum.”
He gives you the once-over; he knows that after what went down in Morocco, where he watched a small, frayed bathroom rug die in his arms, that you’d be just crazy enough to do it. He signals to his men, and they step back, warily placing their guns halfway into their holsters.
“You’ve won this round,” he says. “But I’ll return. Even you can’t watch forever. One day you’ll be napping, or drunk, or out of your house for ten minutes to get some milk from the store. And you’ll leave that doormat alone and unguarded. And when you do, I’ll be there. And I can tell you now, I won’t have to steal it away; it will come with me, and willingly.”
And you know in your heart that he’s right. You may have that doormat for now; hell, you may even love it as much as once I did, but you’ll never own it. The tread-worn beauty that makes it a treasure is also its biggest curse. This doormat was born to roam free, my friend, and no matter what kind of care you take of it, there’s going to be a morning when you awake to find it gone, and with only the memories to sustain you.
*
MEMO #2 TO: The Neighbor Whose Wifi Signal I’ve Been Stealing – I Mean, “Sharing”
RE: Constant Service Outages
Hey “Linksys Underscore AP Underscore 77.” What’s going on here? As a comedian and writer who works from his apartment, the bulk of my day is spent e-mailing people who could potentially hire me, then checking my Fantasy Baseball team, then my MySpace page to see if any 22 year-old tattooed hotties in the East Village want to be my imaginary friend, then my blog’s statcounter to see who’s been Googling me. Between that and all the music I download from my MP3 blogs, your Internet connection is one of the most important tools of my trade. Perhaps in your selfishness, you can’t understand this; but when you aren’t responsible enough to pay your bill in a timely manner, that affects me.
As an adult I’ve learned to accept responsibility, and I’m here to tell you that it’s time that you do the same. If you don’t have the money for your high-speed Internet bill, perhaps you should get a second job. Or do what I do – call my parents and ask if you can borrow it. Don’t worry; experience shows that my parents are very lenient lenders, and won’t expect you to pay them back any time soon.
Thanks for reading this memo; I was going to e-mail you, but I don’t know your address, and even if I did, well, our Internet’s down.
*
MEMO #3 TO: The Guy in The Apartment Whose Window Faces Mine
RE: Your Strict Daily Regimen of Blasting The Same Five Metallica Songs Over and Over and Singing Along at the Top of Your Lungs, Interspersed With The Most Disturbing Deep-Throated Hacking Cough Heard Outside of a 1920s TB Ward
Hey buddy, I understand that you need a job. I know, it’s hard finding work that matches your unique skill-set. After all, I’ve been on more than one interview in my life, and the question, “Where do you see yourself in five years?” is rarely followed with, “Now, can you do an impression of Lars Ulrich as if he were about to lose a lung?”
Luckily, aside from my work solving The Thrilling Adventure of Liam McEneaney and the Case of the Missing Doormat, I seem to be blessed with not a little spare time. So I thought I’d do the neighborly thing and help you come up with some career options.
At first I thought, “Join The Army.” But then I realized that, were you to become a member of the Armed Forces, you are the guy who gets fragged by his own unit, probably somewhere during the second chorus of Unforgiven. Also, America tends to send her best and brightest sons into battle against her foes, and let’s be honest with each other – the only opposing army theat might be intimidated by an aging, phlegmatic metalhead would be the KISS Army.
Then it hit me - you could be a Wedding DJ! You’ve got the experience; by throwing your windows wide and sharing your love of mainstream speed metal, you’re already acting as a DJ for the entire neighborhood.
On the other hand, there’s only so many times that the happy couple will be able to listen to Enter Sandman before requesting that you play something a little more danceable, like Hey Ya! or The Beer-Barrel Polka. And when they do, you’re going to have to look them in the eye and say slowly and steadily, so they know that you’re completely serious, “The first time ever I heard The Black Album, I knew I was put here on this planet for one purpose and one purpose only; to share the beauty of this music with the world, whether it wants me to or not. And I know that the doctors are wrong, that this lower respiratory tract infection isn’t the Black Lung, but rather a punishment from the Demon God of Rock n’ Roll Himself for ignoring my Mission, for not playing these same five Metallica songs over and over.”
Then the groom will regroup, take a breath, and say, and say in the same gentle, patient tone of voice he would use were he placating a small child holding a loaded gun, that he completely understands where you’re coming from, but perhaps at the very least you would be so kind as to not scream along with the song, screaming long and loud like you were trying to awaken the departed souls of all the brain cells you killed smoking weed as a teenager; a teenager glorying in the profoundly adult freedoms of the Meadowland’s parking lot pre-concert bakefest.
And then you will have no choice but to slowly and dramatically take the wad of cash you were paid for the gig – and you will insist on being paid in cash, as you don’t believe in so-called banks and their “rules” about minimum balances – and then you will take that cash out of your pocket and then you will throw it in the bride’s face and then you will shriek the lyrics of Master of Puppets as loud as you can, interspersed with the juiciest lung-deep hacking coughs possible. You will shriek like The Devil unleashed from a pneumonia clinic in the deepest bowels of Metal Hell. Because no one can put a price on your art, man.
And then you should take the money back, because let’s be honest; if a couple hires a DJ for their wedding based solely on the fact that he’s five hundred dollars cheaper than the competition, and they pay him in cash in advance without asking for references or even a playlist of the kinds of records he plans to spin, said couple doesn’t deserve that fifty bucks plus carfare. And you will take that fifty bucks, and - this being the most important part – you will go out and buy a new fucking album by anyone other than Metallica.
And if there’s any money left over, and if you find it in your heart, in return for my graciousness, and my compassion and my care, and my taking the time to help a stranger in need, perhaps you would be so kind as to buy me a new doormat.
* * * * *
I love YouTube as much for the randomness as for the quality. Sometimes you just have to say, "Okay, someone went and postedthe first twenty minutes of Eddie Murphy: Raw? Why not?"
What I'm saying is, enjoy the first twenty minutes of Eddie Murphy: Raw:
