Friday, December 26, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Mickey's Christmas Carol
Here's Disney's take on Dickens' classic, with Scrooge McDuck as, you guessed it, Scrooge. I liked it because Jimminy Cricket played the ghost of Christmas past. The little Mickeys are cute, too. I think they are his nephews or some shit.
Muppet Christmas Carol
Here's the Muppet Christmas Carol. Sadly, this one came out right after Henson died. Michael Caine plays a great Scrooge, though. I was obsessed with this one as a kid. I used to watch it in the summer.
Flinstone's Christmas Carol
All right, I'm willing to suspend my disbelief for Mickey Mouse and the Muppets, but the fucking Flinstones? Um, they're cavemen. Jesus wasn't even born yet, let alone Dickens. Fred Flinstone is starring in Bedrock's version of A Christmas Carol as Eb-bone-ezer Scrooge. I don't mean to be biased here, but I really don't like the Flintstones, I never have. I thought the cartoon was boring when I was a kid. I guess it's because it's for "adults" or something, because it was based on the Honeymooners. Seriously, how can something that has dinosaurs in it be so lame?
That's why Harvey Birdman rules, because they turned Fred into a mob boss like Tony Soprano. That's my kind of "adult" cartoon.
The trusty sidebar window on youtube revealed that there is an All Dogs Go To Heaven Christmas Carol and Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol. What they are forgetting is that the story is supposed to be SCARY, like the Rich Little Christmas Carol.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Eric Idle's hair looks like mine. Yay!
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
It's not a coincidence because Andy Kaufman spelled his name with one "F". But, I will use this as an excuse to show two of my favorite Andy and Tony videos.
Love and Light,
Monday, September 15, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Philly Traffic Court is located at the beautiful intersection of 8th and Spring Garden, conveniently located near Philly's best restaurant, the Spaghetti Warehouse. I drove around looking for a non-metered parking space and eventually found one underneath one of the dozens of "rape tunnels" populating the area just to the west of Northern Liberties.
Upon entering traffic court, patrons are forced to go through a metal detector. When I was in line, a woman of unclear ethnicity cut me in line and started screaming at one of the court officers about her lost pair of scissors. They were returned to her which caused her to explain, "Yo, I need these real bad just in case something happens, y'know?"
After making it through security, I entered the main lobby of traffic court. I immediately wished that I, too, brought a sharp pair of scissors with me because the likeliness of "something happening" was through the roof. The crowd had a terrific combination of natural violent tendencies mixed in with the constant agitation of dealing with shitty city government services. The eyes of traffic court employees told the story of a people resigned to employment in the worst place possible while enduring the constant threat of being punched in the throat due to the impoundment of a car.
I then went to the room to get my tickets cancelled. The clerk was busy on her cellphone, chomping gum, and finished up her giggling conversation. I handed her my summonses and told her that they were to be cancelled. She looked at them and then at me and said "I can't fucking help you with this shit."
Next, I went back to the main lobby where I had to go to customer service. A big sign warns patrons to have their ID present with them. This is so when you show a clerk your ID card she can order you to go to the broken down and outdated photocopy machine as they will only accept a copy of your license. The copier requires fifty cents to operate which, naturally, I did not have.
Luckily, a change machine (which takes ten cents of your change as a "service charge) sat in the front of traffic court. However, it was inoperable. I then bought a delicious Coca-Cola from the machine and tried to return to traffic court. The officer refused to let me enter, telling me I had to go through the metal detectors again and that I was also not allowed to bring in my delicious Coca-Cola. I had to hide my drink behind the vending machine in order to enjoy taste satisfaction later.
I now returned to the customer service line. Here, I waited behind a 65-year-old man who started shouting to the clerk "DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? MY NAME IS TONY FERGLETTI!" repeatedly. The clerk said she did not know who he was. "MY EX-WIFE IS SUZANNE LUPICA! SHE WORKED HERE FOR THREE YEARS? DO YOU KNOW HER? OH. WELL HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF HER? I KNOW CLAUDETTE!" This remarkable conversation lasted for 12 minutes while I waited and watched.
When I went to the clerk with my summonses, she stared at me and asked if my car was impounded. I told her it was not. "Well it should be!" she yelled, cracking up one of her skanky co-workers.
She then asked me for such things as my birthday and address (even though I wrote them down for her) and yelled at me when I did not give her an immediate response military style. This was a refreshing change of pace of how I am usually treated by people. Under most circumstances, I am granted both dignity and respect by others. But the clerk at traffic court took the time out of her day to scold and mock me in a public setting.
She also told me she could be of no help to me. So she gladly gave me a court date in October.
I then decided I wanted to see what traffic court was lke. There are a few courtrooms in the facility with actual judges and everything. I saw a chamber where a case was being decided. I sat down and then listened to the sad tale of a 26-year-old wearing a t-shirt with explosive airbrush writing on it who claimed his belief he was suffereing from cardian arrest caused him to go over 70 MPH on Broad Street.
The judge turned to me in the middle of the hearing and asked me who I was. I told him my name and that I had a date in a few weeks and I wanted to find out what to expect in court.
"You can expect to go to jail," he replied, cackling with the power of a low-level municipal jurist. I then returned to the rape tunnel and drove home.
We will be twice as good as The Who's "A Quick One" on the Rock and Roll Circus.
(I used that title because it's a line from Weezer's new single "Troublemaker" and I think I'm back in love with Rivers Cuomo.)
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Hey ladies! Here's a fall fashion preview!
The word on the street is Diarrhea is the next big look for fall.
Whether you're subtly dabbing a bit on your eyes, or strutting your stuff in your brand new Diarrhea-rinse jeans, this runny stool is a MUST HAVE for Fall '08.
"The nice thing about Diarrhea is that it's affordable, yet sophisticated."
-Bobby Brown, makeup artist.
Diarrhea is super easy to coordinate with your neutral metallics, also a fall essential. Diarrhea goes great with Uggs, Crocs, and whatever other really cool shoes you want to wear!
Just remember, the one thing Diarrhea doesn't match with is fat.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi is arguably the most powerful woman alive. And, tonight at the Free Library of Philadelphia, I totally hit on her.
Pelosi was in town to sell and plug her book entitled "Know Your Power," which is an inspirational message to the daughters of the world. She spoke for an hour about the importance of motherhood, some discussion of politics (heavy on spin, naturally) and things of that nature.
Afterwards, she was signing copies of her book. On my way into see her speak, I managed to actually steal a book from a desk in the library.
I waited in line for about ten minutes. First, some person involved in the proceedings asked me who I wanted the book made out to. I answered "Future Mother." The lady flinched, so I explained to her how my wife was pregnant (not true, thank god) and I called her that as a pet name. This was written down on a post-it note.
Later, another person with the same duty inquired about Future Mother. I explained to him it was for my cousin who was three months pregnant.
I was chatting with the girl ahead of me in line. She writes for OP ED NEWS and had some questions to ask Pelosi about intelligence/war related issues. She lasted about ten seconds before she was pushed out.
Finally, it was my turn! I was finally going to have the chance to meet the person third in line for the presidency!
So, she began signing my book. She flinched at the name "Future Mother."
I explained to her my half-sister was pregnant and it was a nickname we had for her. She asked me her name, I said Ilana (my wife's name) and she signed my book Future Mother Ilana.
When she was signing my book, I told her "Madame Speaker, I found your message of the importance of motherhood completely inspiring. I'll never know what motherhood will actually be like, but I still found it inspirational." She looked baffled but slightly entertained.
Then, I said...
"Before I go, Madame Speaker, I just have to tell you... you look SO good in person. You're absolutely beautiful."
Pelosi, along with the rest of the room, started laughing. Then the Speaker of the House grabbed my right hand with both of hers and started CARESSING the top of my hand.
"What's your name?"
"Thank you for coming out tonight, Gregg. I'm thrilled to have met you."
I then sheepishly left the room.
Honestly, in person, Pelosi's pretty MILFy. She's 68 years old and looks really good in a cream-colored pantsuit.
This was one of the proudest moments of my life -- hitting on the Speaker of the House and having her enjoy the compliment.
Monday, August 4, 2008
“I’m here because there’s this one movie that I love? And I wish I could always be in i? And I never knew if I had what it takes to make it? The movie’s called Steel Magnolias?”
“Get out of town. Just get out of town RIGHT NOW! That’s my favorite movie, too! And I wish I could have been in, too!”
The following exchange occurred between two middle-aged, Interchangeable Housewives. They were sitting across from me in the leaky, asbestos-filled basement of Montclair, NJ’s 12 Miles West Theater. And the reason I overheard this exchange was because we were taking an acting class together.
I guess some of my classmates were taking the class because of a craven, misplaced and desperate desire for fame. Others were just looking for fun. Me? The reason I was looking to take this acting class was for the sole purpose of attempting to get laid. This was from looking at the experiences of my brother. He looks like me, we have the same sense of humor, but he slept with a lot of girls. Me? Not so much. And the one difference between us – he’s a professional actor, and I’m not.
And within the first 30 seconds of taking this class, I was confounded with a question. Was this class the biggest mistake of my life? Or was it the best decision I ever made?
Our instructor’s name was Bob, an even more flamboyant version of Jm. J Bullock. He talked like every audience member of Behind The Actor’s Studio – that annoying, super-serious “artistic” voice. After introducing himself to us, he began to speak in a series of New Age Platitudes such as “We are on a journey to find ourselves and each other” and “there is something we need to get out of this, something we may not even realize we need.”
We sat around in a circle, where after Bob’s introduction we introduce ourselves. There were a few other people in the class with me. I have to refer to them by their nicknames because, apparently, it’s not a good teaching technique to know the names of your classmates. They were, in order:
THE INTERCHANGEABLE HOUSWIVES – the aforementioned Steel Magnolias fans. One wore a shirt with a cat on it, the other spoke like every sentence was actually a question? There was no other way to tell them apart.
THE CUTE GIRL – A very cute girl in her mid-20’s. She looked kind of like the WWE’s Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley, except without the years of cocaine-fueled sex romps.
THE VOICE BOX GIRL – Another girl in her mid-20’s who sounded like Fran Drescher with a throat cancer box.
THE HEMAPHRODITIC GERMAN – A German woman missing breast tissue, giving her a haunting transgendered appearance.
THE OVERLY COMPETITIVE HINDU – An Indian man in his 40’s who, when asked why he was taking the class, responded by saying “My 12-year-old son acts at his middle school. He’s a good actor. But I know if he’s good, I can be a great actor.”
THE CLASS JUNKIE – An older man in his 60’s, grey-haired and bespectacled who described himself as a “class junkie” because of his love of various classes offered in community centers located throughout suburban Essex County. This piqued my interest and, later that night, I looked into taking a ceramics class at James Caldwell High School. (I didn’t.)
And a few other people whom didn’t say anything particularly interesting.
After our introductions, Bob instructed us to focus on a certain, exact point in the room and breathe. And breathe. And breathe some more. And then, he said, for all of us at once we had to say what we were looking at. I thought this was a chance to make The Cute Girl laugh.
“I see the face of the Virgin Mary.”
Bob then told us to pretend we were getting into our car, taking a trip to the grocery store, where we were to purchase an orange and then eat it. Then, he asked us how we felt about this experience.
“It really affected me,” said The Overly Competitive Hindu he said in his “o” voice. “I’m a real orange guy. I mean, I eat oranges alllllll the time.”
Bob then told us visualize ourselves in our “personal fear zone.” Everyone had to say theirs at once. Naturally, I did not say anything (as I am a man without fear) and instead eavesdropped on others.
The Voice Box Girl was the easiest to hone in on. “I’m in a bedroom. There are books by Jay Leno all over the place.” I started to laugh. How do books written by Jay Leno cause 20-ish girls panic attacks? She heard me laughing at her and then gave me a dirty look.
We then returned to our chairs to discuss our personal fear zones. The Hempaphroditic German said she thought of laughing children playing in her driveway. Class Junkie said he couldn’t think of one particular place, but instead thought about the time he battled prostate cancer.
I went next. I wanted to say what I was thinking: “My fear zone is being trapped in a basement with you people.” Instead, I made up something about the dark woods behind my grandfather’s house.
The Cute Girl said her fear zone was her ex-boyfriend’s house. I took that as a sign that she wanted to sleep with me.
Class concluded with all of us having to say what our “dream role” was. After the Interchangeable Housewives both admitted their love of Sally Field vehicles, the Hemaphroditic German said she wanted to play a villainess “in anything, whatever.” The Overly Competitive Hindu said he wanted to play Samuel L. Jackson’s in Pulp Fiction. (The foot-rub debate scene would have been awesome with this re-casting.)
I said I wanted to star in a Vagina Monologue. Not one of my classmates laughed, even though some of them had vaginas.
Bob, the possible life-partner of Tim Gunn, said his dream role was to play the “American James Bond.”
After I left class, I wondered if I wanted to return. The Cute Girl was pretty cute and, most importantly, seemed emotionally vulnerable due to her fear of her ex-boyfriends house. However, she said that she wanted to star in a musical, and the last thing I ever wanted to do on a date was watch Newsies. And sitting in a poorly lit basement while I’m forced to do karmic breathing wasn’t exactly my idea of a fun Tuesday night. I would never use any of these relaxation techniques if I ever needed to clear my head at home. After all, that’s why God allows us to masturbate to Telemundo soap operas.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Get To Know Chestnut Hill
Have you ever dreamed of being someone's servant? Take orders from a child who snaps their fingers at you like you're a dog? Wanted to be constantly reminded that you're barely fit to lick the dirt off of a rich person's shoes?
Then Chestnut Hill is the neighborhood for you! Located in the far northwest corner of Philadelphia, Chestnut Hill is the ideal place to be treated as a human ashtray by your social superiors.
Etiquette In Chestnut Hill
There are rules to follow for non-Chestnut Hill residents when entering the streets of this tony neighborhood. First, always cast your eyes downward when you see a resident of the neighborhood. You'll know when you see a resident of the neighborhood because they're better than you. Second, always make sure you curtsey before a female resident of Chestnut Hill, even (and especially) if she's a pre-teen. Always remember -- while you may not currently work for a resident of Chestnut Hill, someday these people WILL employ you, thus make sure you get on their good side now.
Shopping In Chestnut Hill
Are you a wealthy matronly lady approaching her menopausal years? Germantown Ave, Chestnut Hill's main shopping corridor, has both a Chico's AND a Talbot's, giving you ample opportunities to by shawls, pant suits and tiarras.
Dining In Chestnut Hill
Chestnut Hill is home to several of the city's finest restaurants. At the top of the list is The Melting Pot, a foundue restaurant where diners can take food in their fat, filthy hands and dip it into scalding, broiling cheese.
Escaping From Chestnut Hill
When enslaved by a Chestnut Hill family, try using a spoon stolen from one of your master's many china sets to dig a hole from the dark lair you're kept in at night.
As you may know, I am completely fascinated with the culture of the Jersey Shore. My obsession with The Shore comes from a North Jersey childhood where much of my time was spent in classrooms with "guidos" -- a New Jerseyan with Italian-American heritage, large muscles, predelictions towards house music and expensive hair gels. West Orange (my hometown) had a sizeable guido population, which made my adolescence hellish -- imagine gym class with kids who wear "ITALIAN AND PROUD" tank tops to school on a regular basis -- enough. But I can't even imagine how awful it must be to not be a guido in a true mecca of guido life such as Totowa, Wayne, Clifton, East Hanover or Whippany.
The video above captures the lifestyle perfectly, as unsuspecting guidos and guidettes are interviewed at the Surf Club in Seaside Heights, New Jersey. (A classless Wildwood.) The other great piece of guido video literature is that MTV True Life with "Tommy Chesseballs" who attempts to kill a man after a line dispute at an all-night eatery.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
The Sixth Borough has decided to start it's first-ever contest: The Dirtiest Bathroom in Philadelphia Contest! We are looking for stories, pictures and tales of the worst bathroom experiences in the city. The winner will recieve fame and acclaim of being a public establishment with a truly disgusting bathroom.
We (mostly, Tabitha and Gregg) have already have had some discussions as to the leaders for this illustrious title:
1) The second floor unisex Khyber bathroom which leaks to the stage below
2) The bathroom without any doors at Upstairs at Sal's
4) Dirty Frank's
5) The bathroom at the Shop-Rite on Ridge Ave. in Roxborough
6) Any bathroom in the 300/400 level at Citizen's Bank Ballpark
Oddly, the cleanest public bathroom in Philly award might go to the South Philly Chickie and Pete's, which has a bathroom attendant.
ADDITION: Comicvsaudience's Dave Walk has a solid nomination: the bathroom at the main branch of the Free Library. GG completely agrees with this nomination. That bathroom is disgusting.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
the only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
the old familiar sting
try to kill it all away
but I remember everything
What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
goes away in the end
You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
I wear this crown of shit
On my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
the feelings disappears
You are someone else
I am still right here
What have I become?
my sweetest friend
Everyone I know
goes away in the end
You could have it all
my empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
If I could start again
a million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way...
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Getting To Know Manayunk
Manayunk is located in northwest Philadelphia. "The Yunk" as locals call it was at one time a former mill town turned into a bleak wasteland of American post-industrial waste. But today, thanks to gentrification and access to American Apparel, Manayunk is one of Philadelphia's most vibrant communities.
Main Street in Manayunk is one of Philadelphia's premier shopping destinations. There are not one but THREE stores where faded 60's relics sell overpriced beads in the name of freeing Tibet. Shoppers in Manayunk give visitors a chance to feel the sensation of the Cherry Hill Mall while enjoying the decaying smell from a filthy river located only feet away.
Do you like the Old City scene but can live without the overwhelming presence of rich Indian girls from UPenn? Then try Main Street, where it's always pledge week. It's a perfect place to wear a dirtied white "Cocks" baseball cap and a t-shirt tucked into khaki slacks. The Manayunk Brew Pub is a great restaurant featuring microbrews, excellent food and a chance to have a recent Villanova graduate to make lewd and threatening remarks to your wife.
Sadly, the premier spot in Manayunk's nightlife scene -- The Grape Street Pub -- is no longer with us. For years, the Grape Street was the premier place in the city to see the irritating go-teed philosophy major from your dorm play acoustic covers of Smashing Pumpkins songs.
A great place to commit a sex crime.
Manayunk offers its visitors a wide array of recreational activities. A popular spot for Yunkers and guests alike is the Manayunk Canal Tow Path. Located directly in the rear of restaurant loading docks, with limited lighting and overgrown shrubbery making you completely invisible to anyone who could possibly hear your screams, the Tow Path is a great place to enact upon your disturbing sexual-power issues.
Bike Race Weekend
It isn't the summer in Manayunk until Bike Race Weekend. The annual event attracts tens of thousands of people who line Manayunk's small, winding and incredibly hilly streets who pretend to watch professional bicyclists. The race starts at 9 but public drinking starts at 6 a.m., making the bike race course a likely spot to see a shirtless man pounding a Lager while grilling bacon. It's a great chance to play beer pong with slutty teenagers or to hear lifelong 'Yunk residents drunkenly recount, play-by-play, the Roman Catholic vs. Cardinal Dougherty Catholic League girls basketball finals from 1982. It is truly one of the best civic events in the history of planet earth.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Thursday, July 17, 2008
I went up to the Great White North for my summer vacation and to check out Just for Laughs, the Montreal Comedy Festival. Years ago, what started as a strictly French language affair has blown up to be the place to go for up and coming comedians from all over the world. Many of the greats have made their mark on the stage at Just for Laughs throughout the years, from Bill Hicks, to Bob and David and The Kids in the Hall.
This year the all-star gala included Jeremy Piven, Jimmy Fallon and Kathy Griffin. Being a certifiable Anglophile, I went straight for the British stand-up comedy showcase, Britcom.
Craig Hill, a flaming Scotsman who wore a leather kilt and took the stage gyrating to Madonna, hosted the “British Invasion” of comedy. He explained the tourist industry in Scotland, “You can always tell when somebody’s a tourist because they’ve got something that the Scots don’t. Hope.”
I recognized Paul Tonkinson from his stint on Asylum, a mid-nineties comedy series starring Simon Pegg and Jessica Stevenson. Tonkinson discussed the pros and cons of married life with a bit of a violent edge, kind of like if Louis C.K. was a Manchester United fan.
Paul Foot was very good, too, and he was dressed much like a young Rod Stewart in a stylish cream pantsuit. One of Foot’s rants was about the awkwardness that occurs when two people are eating cake together, and no one goes out of their way to point out the moistness of the dish.
Most of the comedians in this show were fairly young, so it was great to see some new faces that you wouldn’t necessarily see on Comedy Central. There really was something for everyone, from Hal Cruttenden’s dry observations to Pete Firman’s gory magic tricks.
If you are interested in going but can’t afford tickets to more one or two of the shows it’s still worth making the trip because they have a huge free street festival every night of Just For Laughs that takes up most of the Latin Quarter of downtown. I got to see some French clowns, too. I don’t speak the language, but there was a woman standing on an oil drum in full makeup, yelling at the audience, while the face of a crying clown was projected behind her. Apparently French Canadians take absurdist comedy very seriously, which I guess is why no one laughed during the performance. I also found out that there are no less than two clown colleges in Montreal.
There were a huge amount of people at the street festival, several thousand had gathered for the festivities in the Latin Quarter, but it was ok, I didn't feel like my life was in danger or I was going to pass out. So it wasn't like when Live 8 came to Philadelphia. My friends and I went down to the street festival just about every night of our vacation and saw something new every time. There were giant mechanical insect puppets, break-dancers, fire-eaters, and various costumed actors in hospital gowns pretending to be drunk.
On the whole, the experience was a positive one. There were at least five other festivals going on at the same time as Just for Laughs -- Reggae, Jazz, and a number of French drama performances. I can’t say that I was really digging the Reggae, but at the very least it was in a lovely spot on the waterfront, and Montreal does have some pleasantly mild summer days.
One last thing that was funny, but not actually related to the comedy festival. One night I bought a pack of Canadian cigarettes - Viceroy's - and instead of the typical "cigarettes kill " warning there were statistics of all the deaths in Canada in 1996. I’m not sure why they chose 1996, but basically they were saying tobacco kills the equivalent of a small Canadian town every year. Sure, ok, fine. It's bad for you. But the weird part was that they had statistics on murders and suicides, too. And about 500 people were murdered in the entire country of Canada that year.
Alas, our holiday had come to an end and we crossed the border to head home, back to Philadelphia, the city that has more murders than the entire country we had just visited.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Sunday, July 13, 2008
These quotes -- chanted by children, parents, the elderly and the handicapable -- were loud and proud today outside of Eastern State Prison, where Americans who no doubt ate Freedom Fries in 2002 flew French flags on Fairmount Ave.
Today I, Sixth Borough Correspondent At-Large Reporter Gregg Gethard, attended the "Bastille Day" festivities in Philadelphia's beautiful Fairmount neighborhood. This is an annual tradition in Fairmount and has been held for the past 14 years. Who knew? I spent nearly every weekend from the year 2000 to 2003 on a variety of possibly scabies-infested couches in dingy apartments located between Girard and Spring Garden avenues and had never even heard of this event.
My reporting headquarters was The Urban Saloon, a "suburban sports bar attached to a Day's Inn" which recently opened up on Fairmount Ave. and has already rocketed up the list of Philly's worst bar, competing for honors with The Irish Pub and Finnegan's Wake. (The Urban Saloon, however, wins points for its incredibly surreal open mic comedy night on Monday night's. Being a fan and supporter of awkward public situations, I am pretty addicted to attending and performing at bar open mic nights. The Urban Saloon has the finest in the area, I believe.)
The usually empty Urban Saloon was filled with people on ahot and humid Saturday afternoon. Lines were long for both the bathroom and at a small table set up to serve patrons warm American beers in small plastic cups. The attendees were a mix of people in their older-30's who have not completely given up on life (although there were more than just a few women wearing shirts with pictures of animals on the front) yet mixed in with recent college graduates who should face extermination.
But, standing out the most in this sea of human mediocrity, were the occassional men dressed in 19th century French gentry outfits. Most men I come across wearing these outfits are either into really singular sexual roleplay adventures or are hobos who live in the infamous "rape tunnel" around 7th and Fairmount. But today, they walked around the crowd watching Adam Eaton destroy the Phillies season just like everybody else.
Finally, around 5:30, proceedings began. Set up in the middle of Fairmount Ave., not too far from Zorba's, was a podium with a guillotine front and center. A guy in his 50's dressed as a French peasant, obstensibly a mover and shaker with the local Fairmount development community, introduced the festivities. He talked about how we lacked freedom, how we lacked rights and how we wanted change.
It felt somewhat like I was hearing a MoveOn.org supporter talk about Barack Obama, except I didn't want to claw out my eyes. The guy talked at length, occasionally making a funny joke about Dubya or John Street. He also made reference to "Karl Rovespierre."
This allowed me to heckle with what I remembered from my European History II class (where we spent about two weeks on the French Revolution) I took my junior year in college. "I love the month of Fructidor!" was a personal favorite of my own heckles. My friend Mike started chanting "IndieMac" over and over again to remind people of our looming economic doom.
And then, eventually, standing on top of the prison was a woman claiming herself as Marie Antoinette.
Marie Antoinette precariously stood on the edge of the prison, blasting the crowd with comments about her wealth and power. Or something like that. She sounded pretty drunk. After about ten minutes of banter, she told the crowd to chant along.
"If they have no bread... then let them... let them eat cake!"
Then, from the top of the prison, Eastern State employees dumped Tastycakes onto the crowd by the shovel-full, flying through the air, crashing into the skulls of the elderly and polluting our already precarious eco-balance.
Then, the man on the podium ordered for the storming of the Bastille to begin. A few guys carrying muzzles shot blanks above. Marie's guards fired blanks back. It was all kind of confusing until it was announced that the people had stormed the Bastille and brought out some middle aged due.
"WE FREED LARRY MENDTE!" exclaimed the dude on the podium. I, unfortunately, did not bring my "Larry Mendte Is Not A Criminal" that my friend Paul T. from Secret Pants made.
Then after a few minutes we were told that our mob had captured Marie Antoinette. She was then brought to the guillotine, not by force, and I was expecting The Reign of Terror to begin at any second. The man asked the crowd if we wanted her to die.
Everyone screamed and wished this re-enactment actress/Rembrandt's waitress death. The crowd was extremely blood thirsty yet still family friendly, kind of like a Phantoms game.
"Slice her womb," my friend Mike yelled.
Two guys in hoods took to the podium. They then tested the guillotine out by taking a leftover watermelon from Gallagher's last area show and sliced it. And then again.
Then the guy on the podium said "Oh, we're going to keep her alive instead."
Then a couple of people threw Tastycakes at them.
And then it was over.
All-in-all, it was a pretty cool afternoon. If there's one thing we in Philadelphia are good at, it's coming up with reasons to drink shitty beer in the streets. I liked this better than Two Street circa Mummer's day (too cold and too many sexual assaults) but not as much as I like the Manayunk Bike Race (good temperature and the right amount of sex crimes).
It also gave me an idea. Re-enacting foreign revolutions could become a hot new local trend. I think I want to give one a try -- the Romainian Revolution of 1989, complete with the execution of Ceaucescu and his family and with people dressed as glue-huffing Bucharest orphans.
Monday, July 7, 2008
In this clip, Sixth Borough Acting School alumna, Rosie O'Donnell, shows off the "Shubin Method". This ground-breaking technique was created by The Sixth Borough's master acting coach, Patrick Kelly. The Shubin Method allows the actor to become mind-bendingly annoying while at the same time breathing through her anus. It is this dramatic shift in the locus of breathing from the mouth-nose region to the anus that allows Rosie and other masters of the Shubin Method to transform themselves from normal intelligent people into actual retards. The Method can be adapted to allow the actor to similarly become black, gay, or Mexican. Classes begin August 30th in Jason's urethra. $250 per credit hour.
Did you ever want to read historicaly themed, sexually-tinged fan-fiction about the woman's suffrage movement? If so, now's your chance! The above link has it all. Fictional accounts of Warren G. Harding's mistress! Of Teddy Roosevelt's daughter! Of Woodrow Wilson't mistress! Totally NSFW unless you work at a museum detailing life in the 1920's and you also have a lax internet usage policy at your workplace. Warning: this is HOTTT!
Also, after that site, feel free to visit a website featuring lengthy fictional articles about Steve Perry, the lead singer of Journey. anyway u want it that's the way i need it 4 realz
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Getting To Know East Falls
East Falls is located on the hills to the east of the Schuykill River, providing the area with sweeping vistas of disgusting standing water. The neighborhood is an ecelctic mix of post-grads from area schools such as Philadelphia University, La Salle University and St. Joe's University and lifelong residents who proudly call themselves "Fallsers." The post-grads have flocked to East Falls because of its proximity to Center City and also because diplomas from these institutions can barely be used for toilet paper, making it essential for grads to live with six of their friends in sub-standard housing. Fallsers never left the neighborhood due to its proximity to oxycontin.
Famous Faces In East Falls
The East Falls neighborhood was the longtime home of the Kelly family who sprung timeless whore Princess Grace and her brother, swimming champion and local politician John B. Kelly, who was possibly homosexual since he liked swimming so much.
East Falls has long been the traditional home of the area's politicians. Currently, U.S. Senator and multiple stroke victim Arlen Specter lives right around the corner from Pennsylvania governor and casino afficianado Ed Rendell.
Weekly, residents and visitors of East Falls can watch as Ed Rendell gets pestered for change by a semi-retarded hobo who has camped out at the Sunoco A-Plus at Calumet and Ridge.
Community Spirit In East Falls
Post-grads and Fallsers, while coming from significantly different backgrounds, have joined together to help make East Falls a community that cares!
Despite their out-of-town presence, post-grad East Falls residents are seen frequently helping out lifelong residents in a variety of ways. Recently, at the McMichael Park a new East Falls resident was helping a pregnant teenager understand her social place by screaming "How does it feel to meet an authority figure who does not detail cars for a living?" while repeatedly striking her with an extension cord.
Fallsers welcome newcomers to the neighborhood with open arms. Many times, Fallser teenagers will sit on your front step while smoking drugs. Also, many Fallser teenagers like making newcomers feel right at home by making suggestive comments about your alleged sexuality while shining lazer pointers directly into your retina as you walk from your car. And residents who live near Midvale Ave. also love one of their more well-known neighbors, a 16-year-old teenager with a dirtlip and back-long red dreadlocks who enjoys repeatedly jumping on the hood of your new car while singing outdated Eminem lyrics.
Nature In East Falls
Do you like the outdoors? Then why not spend all morning drinking and go sit on the ledge off of the Schuykill River and try your hand at fishing!
Capturing fish from the river is a hobby many East Falls residents enjoy. Nothing can make a man prouder than holding up a still-breathing trout to show off to your friends and then throwing the fish into the garbage can located behind the Sunoco A Plus right across the street.
Getting To East Falls
Walk to the right of the art museum and head up Kelly Drive. About a mile up the road, flash your genitalia to a passing vehicle headed northbound and arrange a deal for the driver to take you to East Falls.
After the terms of your arrangement have been fulfilled, ask to be physically thrown from the car at the Sunoco A-Plus located at the intersection of Ridge and Calumet. Then feel free to wander and explore this neighborhood of many wonders!
GETTING TO KNOW MOUNT AIRY
Mount Airy is one of several neighborhoods comprising Northwest Philadelphia. On one side, it is bordered by Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia's toniest neighborhood, and on the other by Germantown, one of Philadelphia's crummiest neighborhoods. Thus, Mt. Airy is somewhere in between and is rife with class struggle -- a perfect set-up for you to indoctrinate the neighborhood's residents via socialist leaflets handed out at area coffeeshops.
Mt. Airy residents pride themselves on their cultural diversity. In fact, when meeting a Mt. Airy resident for the first time, be prepared to hear about how diverse their neighborhood is. And it isn't just when you first meet a Mt. Airy resident as, actually, all anyone who lives in Mt. Airy ever talks about on their neighborhood's cultural diversity.
Mt. Airy is also noted for having the most anti-Bush bumper stickers found on the back of Prius cars anywhere in the continental US. This celebrates the neighborhood's commitment to becoming a "green neighborhood" while also celebrating the fact that Mt. Airy residents know what the word "impeach" means.
CLOTHING IN MT. AIRY
All male Mr. Airy residents between the ages of 15 and 55 wear toeless sandals at all times of day, complete with matching braided belt. This is a handy look when you wish to impress somebody by repeatedly telling them how culturally diverse your neighborhood is.
SHOPPING IN MT. AIRY
Another popular Mt. Airy destination is the Weaver's Way supermarket co-op. Here, people can actually work a select number of hours at Weaver's Way -- for free -- which allows them the opportunity to later purchase organic grains at expensive prices.
EDUCATION IN MT. AIRY
The Mt. Airy Learning Tree is one of Philadelphia's finest community learning schools. Classes range from "Mastering The 40 Words Successful People Know" to a personal favorite, "Candlemaking With Roberto." Roberto is a Brazillian who learned his candlemaking skills while growing up in the favela slums along the outer rim of Rio. He wears tight shirts and has tanned muscles and gentle, caressing hands. His exotic features, sensual touch and his uncanny ability to mold a candelabra make him ideal to fulfill your fantasy of having a secret midnight, moonlight tryst in a dumpster outside of the Taco Bell on City Line Avenue with a Brazillian candlemaker.
DINING IN MT. AIRY
The Wawa at the corner of Allens Lane and Germantown Avenue makes spectacular made-to-order hoagies.
FAITH IN MT. AIRY
Right across the street from the Wawa is the Philadelphia headquarters of the Hare Krishna religious group, allowing residents and visitors a rare chance to look,touch and smell a sari. Seminal 90's hardcore band and Krishna devotees Shelter frequently play outdoor shows in their large backyard.
TRAVELLING TO MT. AIRY
Stop being a dick and get a car.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
The picture above this text is of an actual waterslide. There is only one place on earth where something like this could even be thought of: Action Park.
Action Park was a mostly water-based amusement park located in Vernon, New Jersey, about one hour west of New York. Advertisements for Action Park constantly played during cartoons and other programs geared for teens and children. And it looked amazing. Crazy waterslides, trapeeze swings into the water, alpine slides, some weird ride where you put on a body suit and a giant fan blows hot air and hoists you into the air, bungee cords, etc.
I always wanted to go to Action Park. However, my parents would never take me and my brother. The reason is simple. As you can tell from the picture linked above, Action Park was obviously run by maniacs. The place had so many awful stories it became colloquially known as "Traction Park."
The loop-de-loop waterslide was all anyone who went to Action Park talked about when they returned home. Even as a child, I knew that there was no way that a loop de loop waterslide could actually work. In order to thrust a human being to get through a loop like that, one would need the pressure of Hiroshima. And even if you could get through an upside down waterslide, there was also a good chance that you'd just fall to the bottom and break your spine. Or there's a good chance you could get stuck and slowly drown.
I have told many non-North Jersey people about this contraption. Absolutely none of them believe me. But here it is, forever captured in film.
I wrote about Action Park on my old website. I have recieved dozens of comments about the place, including many from people who have claimed or know someone who claimed to have gone through the looping waterslide. I find this completely impossible and incomprehensible.
One popular rumor in North Jersey: Action Park employees actually sent a test dummy down the waterslide, where the torso got stuck in the middle of the loop but its head was decapitated and was later found in the pool.
Just even taking the time to design and build a waterslide of this insanity proves that Action Park was the World's Most Threatening Waterslide Park. But that was the joy of Action Park. Anytime you went to the place, you took your life into your hands.
This is a link to a list of major deaths and accident occurring at water-themed parks throughout the country. Many of the items listed occurred at Action Park.
Other rides of note at Action Park: The giant fan which sent you flying into the air by blowing wave after wave of fierce, scalding hot air directly into your face; the "Canyon Rapids" raft ride where patrons were forced to duck from dangling tree limbs and also had their head and upper neck region slammed into artifical rocks; tarzan swings where patrons leapt off of a deck and hung onto a rope until they fell into disturbingly cold water that was green from algae; and a wave pool filled with the rowdiest, filthiest persons from the North Jersey area, policed by teenage lifeguards experimenting with painkiller abuse.
But, aside from the infamous upside down waterslide, Action Park was best known for its alpine slides. For those not familiar with the alpine slide, allow me to explain. Action Park was part of the Great Gorge ski resort. Action Park patrons could take a ski lift up to the top of a mountain and then ride in a clumsy go-kart type contraption down the mountain via a cement course similar to what you would see in Olympic luge competitions.
When one arrived at the top of the mountain, they were shown a picture of Poloroid photographs of alpine sliders who disobeyed one of the safety rules and suffered brutal injuries. I saw pictures of compound fractures, face bruising and shot after shot of sickening road rash, including one photo I could never get out of my mind of a teenage girl who was missing the skin to her entire stomach as she laid semi-conscious in a pool of her own blood on a side of the mountain.
These photos scared the hell out of anyone who actually wanted to ride the alpine slides. However, once you went to the top of the mountain, there was no other way down. Thus, most of the people going down the alpine slides rode as slow as possible for fear of impalation.
Another great aspect of Action Park was the fact that State Highway 94, an incredibly busy road, bi-sected the park in two. There were two options to get from one side of the park to the other: take a death-defying sprint across this highway or to take the chintzy train that takes you from one side of the park to the other.
Obviously, most people took the train. But even the train had a myriad of problems. Case in point: my friends Dave and Kevin went to Action Park as part of their altar boy trip, they took the train over the highway, the train's engine CAUGHT FIRE as they were on the bridge over the highway and they were forced to jump from the bridge onto the road underneath them, where Kevin fractured his ankle but, to make ammends, Action Park gladly provided him with four free passes for a return visit.
Unfortunately, people with sense intervened in Action Park's decades long reign of terror. There were always rumors of the state closing Action Park or if it going bankrupt due to a multitude of class-action lawsuits. It eventually did close and was reinvented as "Mountain Creek" and is now known for its impeccable safety record.
It just goes to show that the homogeony of the American suburbs really takes away from our greater culture. This is a land where one should be free to sprint across highways like a Mexican border hopper, where one can watch their child lapse into a coma after getting swept under the dangerous undertow of the wave pool and where one can attempt to defy the laws of physics and go through a loop de loop waterslide.
Read more about Action Park here! At least 6 deaths, constant emergency room visits, bumper boats located in a pond filled with snakes, patrons routinely overcome with gas fumes, kayaks stuck in dangerous electrical wires, water cold enough to routinely cause cardiac arrest, forced enemas via waterslide, getting jumped on by people falling off of clips and miniature golf courses also infested with snakes.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Bruce has finished directing his new film My Name is Bruce. A small mining town is under siege by and ancient Chinese ghost monster. A teenager named Jeff kidnaps his idol, Ash, from the Evil Dead trilogy, thinking he can stop the monster. But its not Ash, it's Bruce Campbell, and hilarity ensues. My Name is Bruce is set for limited release in the US in October 2008. For more info check out www.bruce-campbell.com.
Bruce has spent the last few months on tour with the Kids in the Hall. The tour, "Live As We'll Ever Be" has been extremely successful, to say the least. The Kids have a brand new video, which you can watch at on the kithblog. Warning: It contains brief nudity. For other fun Bruce stuff (like his songs and other shit like that) check out www.brucio.com.
Bruce just finished a movie called Swamp Devil. Need I say more?
Today Marks Five Year Anniversary Of When It Became Easier To Tell Your Dad That You're Gay Than It Did To Tell Your Friends You're A Republican
Baxter, then an 18-year-old freshman at Temple University, revealed to his parents that day that he was a homosexual and was dating a boy he met at school.
"I was really nervous," Baxter said. "Especially about my dad's reaction. I mean, he's in the electrician's union and was a Little League coach and everything. I thought that he'd be upset, maybe even ashamed with me."
But Baxter was met with a surprising reaction when he brought Trevar Brackford, his older RA from his dorm room. Earlier that year, Baxter and Trevar had started talking about their shared love of the Final Fantasy video game series and they soon began having mutual and simultaneous oral sex. They then started dating.
"I brought Trevar home with me over the summer and I just felt like I had to tell this to my parents or I'd never feel like myself," Baxter said. "So, I told them that I was gay and dating Trevar. They didn't say anything for a few seconds, but then they said that they thought I was courageous for telling them, that they loved me and that Trevar was welcome to their home at anytime. It was a little shocking that they were so comfortable with my sexuality. But they did watch Will and Grace at the time."
Baxter and Brackford broke up eight months later after Brackfard met an older documentarian. However, Baxter's parents still remain supportive of his sexuality.
"They're still really cool about things. If I'm going out to a meth-fueled S&M leather party, they tell me to give them a call if I've been drinking too much and I can't drive home," explained Baxter.
The same day Baxter came out to his parents, Gloria Patterson, then 23, was at Sabrina's restaurant for a scheduled brunch with Tricia Lee and Matthew Schwartz-Garcia, whom she shared a house with her senior year of college.
While eating fruit-filled pancakes, the trio started discussing politics. Lee and Schwartz-Garcia started talking about how much they hated President George W. Bush and how that they, no matter what, would vote Democrat.
"I told them that I was going to be voting for Bush," Patterson said. "And I told them that I voted for him in 2000. They were apoplectic. They assumed I voted for Nader like everyone else we know did. I explained to them that I believe in a small and limited federal government, more power given to states and localities, strict constructionist readings in Supreme Court cases, a strong national defense in the wake of 9/11 and a flat tax. They then asked for the check."
Patterson frantically tried to explain to her friends that she wasn't a "religious right-wing nutjob" despite attending a pro-life rally while a high school senior. She also started claiming that she was "more of a libertarian than anything else" and only voted Republican because the Libertarian Party was in favor of drug legalization, which she is opposed to.
Patterson soon found that she was excluded from e-mail forward circles and weekly pot-luck dinners with her friends. She drifted apart and has only seen Lee and Schwartz-Garcia infrequently.
"I ran into them at Whole Foods a few months ago," Patterson said. "I asked them how they were doing and they just mumbled something about free trade and No Child Left Behind. They kinda left abruptly before I got a chance to ask them if they still had my Season 2 Arrested Development DVD's."
Saturday, June 28, 2008
CHICAGO -- In an effort to grow the ever-swelling cult of personality surrounding Barack Obama, his campaign officials announced today that they would be placing posters that make him look even more like a totalitarian dictator at bus stops throughout the country.
His top campaign staffers said they intend to keep running a campaign largely based around a charismatic leader, popular sloganeering and eye-catching graphics. His campaign officials said that by making even more frightening posters, they hope to increase the growing ranks of his die-hard, unquestioning legion of supporters.
“We’re planning for our next posters to copy the cover of an old edition of 1984. We‘re thinking of having a vague close-up of Obama‘s eyes watching over all Americans,” said Obama’s minister of information John “Jake” Vernon. “In focus groups, the young intellectuals who make up the most of Obama’s core voters also responded well to the posters of Ceaucescu the Romanian secret police forced Bucharest shopkeepers to place in their windows in order to avoid imprisonment.”
Vernon also said that the Obama campaign would be collaborating with Black Eyed Peas front man Will I. Am to make a remix of his popular “’Yes We Can’” song and video, this time set to the classical music of Richard Wagner.
Friday, June 27, 2008
JUNEAU -- Alaska Governor Sarah Palin, one of many names bantied about as a possible Republican vice-presidential candidate, has fared extremely well amongst secretaries who wear short skirts and put out for their bosses.
Palin, whose sexy glasses emphasize her come hither eyes and "fuck me" heels, has been the governor of Alaska since 2006. During that time period, Palin has fought for many issues important to whorish office workers: a lack of workplace sexual harrasment rules, greater availability of tight, white dress shirts missing many top buttons, and protecting Alaskan fisheries.
"We also hope she'll have cross-over appeal amongst Internet perverts, boys with MILF fetishes and just average guys who still get boners," said McCain spokesman Jeremiah Smith-Fa'atulo. "Those are all key demographics. Lynne Cheney's sex appeal really helped get Bush over the top in '04."
McCain has also recieved favorable poll numbers amongst men who enjoy the company of rich heiress trophy wives and also amongst rich heiress trophy wives.
CHICAGO -- Democratic presidential candidate Barak Obama has narrowed down his list of potential vice-presidential candidates to a handful of politicians no one in America will get excited over.
The pool of candidates includes little known Louisville, Kentucky-area attorney general R. David Stengel; Congressman Tim Holden whose district is centered in Pottsville, PA; and former presidential also-ran John Edwards.
"I think we've done a really good job finding candidates who will bore you to tears during the vice-presidential debate," said Obama spokeswoman Jane Zuckerman-Vazquez. "Mr. Obama has been hoping to find someone who can counteract his overwhelming charisma and, with the choices we're down to, we will balance out the rock star excitement he brings to the stage with a total dud."
When reached for comment, Stengel said, "I am honored to be considered for this position by Mr. Obama. I have been proud of my service as serving as the highest elected law enforcement type person in all of greater Louisville. Under my tenure, I have fought some crime. I will bring the same lack of passion and bland speeches to the national stage that I have used when campaigning in greater Louisville."
Hilary Clinton allegedly asked that she not be considered for the post in order to have time to get her pantsuit collection cleaned.
Anyway, as I was fading in and out of consciousness, I had an insanely vivid dream, wherein the full-figured comedienne Mo'nique appeared to me in a dream. Being a large-framed lady of comedy myself, I could relate. Mo'nique warned me of the dangers of body image, and that the worse thing you can do is hurt yourself to conform to some stick-figure idea of beauty. I had never thought of it that way.
She showed me all the awards she had won for comedy, as well as a large wad of cash in her wallet. I realized, that's what really counts, money, not being hot. She also talked to me about tolerance, and love. I kind of stopped paying attention at that point. I did have a major breakthrough while I was pretending to listen to her though, which is, no matter what, Mo'nique will always be fatter than me. And that makes me feel good about myself.
Love and Light,
Thursday, June 26, 2008
“I met all of my goals as president,” a weepy Bush said. “All my life, I’ve set a very high bar for myself. Being an average student in prep school, being a sub-par student in college, having my daddy give me seed money to start up a fledgling, failing oil business and also buying the Texas Rangers baseball club. But I think I really have outdone myself this time, they way I completely ruined the country like that. I‘m going to miss this place.”
Within Bush’s two terms, America has been imprisoned thousands of foreign citizens illegally, launched a senseless war without provocation, seen its international standing bottom out and watched as its economy slowly whittled away to nothing.
But, Bush said, his proudest moment as president came during his incompetent handling of the Hurricane Katrina disaster.
“That was definitely the apex of my aims to end the American empire,” Bush said. “I showed the entire world that I did not care for my own citizenry as much as I did not care about the rest of the world.”
Bush said he most enjoyed watching graphic pictures of poor, African-Americans stranded on top of their rooftops for days at a time.
“That was the best example I can show of how I led an uncaring beauracracy and allowed it to destroy the lives of ordinary citizens,” Bush said. “Also, I really enjoyed the reports of child rape taking place in the New Orleans Superdome bathrooms.”
Bush said that after his tenure, he hopes to not write his memoirs and also plans on sitting on corporate boards of soon-to-be delisted publicly traded companies.
CHICAGO -- Michelle Obama, wife of Democratic presidential nominee Barack Obama, denied allegations that she appeared in an infamous sex tape where popular R&B musician R. Kelly urinates on an underage teenager.
The allegations surfaced today after an anonymous, creepy shut-in rewatched the taped for the 748th time and posted on a porn-themed Usenet group that the underage teen receiving the golden shower in the video kind of, sort of looked like Michelle Obama except with a slightly different haircut.
“These allegations are false and untrue,” Michelle Obama said today at a press conference outside of her Chicago townhouse. “While I am a fan of R. Kelly’s ‘Trapped In The Closet’ video project, I have never met R.”
When asked if she has ever received a golden shower, the prospective first lady said “no comment.”
The McCain camp was quick to jump on these allegations.
“This country needs strong leadership in this time of both international and economic crisis,” said McCain spokesperson Roger Thorn. “What it does not need is a first lady into dehumanizing sex acts.”
Study Shows McCain Has Support Of Men Routinely Tortured While Held Captive In Tiger Cages
WASHINGTON – A new Gallup poll has shown that Republican presidential nominee John McCain is overwhelmingly favored by men who are held captive in tiger cages while being routinely tortured.
The Gallup poll showed that McCain had 85% of the vote of hostages contacted for the survey.
"I just think he seems like someone who understands the maverick changes we need to our government. Also, I trust him when it comes to Iraq," said Ben Horner of Plattsburgh, NY.
Eight years ago, Horner was kidnapped by a dominant regional biker gang after he accidentally opened the wrong locker at his local Extra Space Self Storage facility, where he discovered seven Mexican sex slaves in addition to $3 million in methamphetamines being stored in packing boxes. Horner had rented space in a nearby locker to hold a dinette set while he moved into a bigger apartment.
Since then, Horner has been held in a dog crate originally built for a 40-to-50 pound Labradoodle. Daily, his genitals are shackled to a car battery and his ribs are worked over by socket-wrench wielding entry-level biker gang members who pummel him as part of their initiation rites. He has had little-to-no contact with his family since that time and his wife and children have since moved on to better lives.
His situation is somewhat similar to the magical journey McCain took in Vietnam, where he was held captive by the Vietcong until he denounced America. McCain gladly did and, as a result, became a prominent Arizona Republican.
"Clearly, this poll shows that McCain has the strength and wisdom to lead our country," said McCain spokesperson John Butterfield. "Who else would better know how to handle our energy crisis, reforms to our health care system or our problems with immigration than men held in subterranean lairs whose eyelids are repeatedly scraped with carpentry tacks?"
Another Gallup poll revealed that Barack Obama has the overwhelming support of people who went to expensive preparatory high schools who also received degrees from an Ivy League law school who are now pretending to be an average person just like you and me.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
I'm The Sixth Borough's own Corey Cohen. And folks, don't be fooled by the picture, I am that obnoxious. Today I wanted to introduce a brand new semi-weekly semi-series of posts, by me, in person.
However, unlike regular blog posts you may have seen in the past, mine will include images I found on the internet and arranged to be hysterical!
I know, it's brilliant.
This semi-series will be part of a larger lecture I am preparing for a later date, which is part of an ongoing effort to download as many images of Jesus as I can. That is because as a Jewish man, I have always felt a hole in my heart shaped like a cross. In an effort to learn more and better understood my potential true Lord, I must stalk him like the wiliest former chemistry classmate who may still have nice breasts.
Each posting will include images of Jesus in relation to different theoretical perspectives. Such perspectives may include:
Jesus + Robots
Jesus + Karate
Jesus + Contemporary Musicians
It's all up to me. So please, look and learn. This weeks perspective:
Jesus: Man's Man
This image shows that Jesus is comfortable just hanging out, lending a helping hand. Jesus could pass the ball to himself, but he doesn't. And I respect that.
Remember, Jesus is just one of the guys. Notice he tucks his t-shirt into his pants with confidence. And if there is one man outside of James Dean who can be confident with that look, it's probably Jesus.
In case you haven't gotten the point, this guy is really serious.
Really serious. Serious about being a man.
And then just when it gets heavy, we see that being a man also means taking time to get rowdy with some old college friends. Jesus knows better than anyone, sometimes you have to laugh at yourself.
NEXT TIME: JESUS: EVOLUTION
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
So I got up this morning, had my usual breakfast of ouzo and fried bread and resolved to get my life on track once and for all. That's why I'm starting Tabitha's Private Diet Journal Blog Centre. It's basically where I share my goals, hopes, jokes and triumphs on this journey we call Philadelphia.
Anyway, here are my plans for the day:
- Run 12 miles
- drink less than 13 oz of water (FACT: water stays in your system and congeals into fat)
- don't eat anything green
I'm being realistic here, I'm not hoping for the impossible. I just want to loose enough weight so I can stop having a period. (That would kill 2 birds with one stone, if you know what I mean.)
I'll be posting Tabitha's Private Diet Journal Blog Centre throughout the week, when I have a breakthrough or I feel like it. I'm mad as hell! And I'm not going to be a fat piece of shit anymore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Love and Light,
Monday, June 23, 2008
He inspired all of us.
He will be missed.
"If you can't beat them, arrange to have them beaten."
"Always do whatever's next."
New York Times Obituary
Friday, June 20, 2008
I love The Phillies. I love Citizens Bank Park. I love The Schmitter. I love everything about the place, except for one thing.
That when Pat "The Bat" Burrell comes out bat, he comes out to Don Henley's "Dirty Laundry."
This wasn't always the case. As late as two years ago, Burrell came out to Dio's "Holy Diver." This is far from being an actual good song. However, Dio was the band fronted by Ronnie James Dio, who replaced Ozzy in Black Sabbath. He also allegedly invented the "Devil Horn" symbol that metal fans everywhere make.
That's a whole lot better than being a song on the first solo album from some asshole from The Eagles.
"Dirty Laundry" is so transcendently, fascinatingly bad.
Whenever I hear this song, I think this: It is 1983. Two couples -- fast moving, Wall St. types -- are out for a night on the town in New York's upper west side. They have a bite to eat at a hot fusion restaurant, then they have some gourmet wine at a nearby cocktail bar.
"Hey, I know what we can do next," says one of the guys, who is clad wearing a blazer and dress shirt unbuttoned to his mid-chest cavity. "Let's go onto my yacht, listen to some Don Henley, do some cocaine and have group sex!"
They all agree. They all listen to Henley, snort cocaine off of a man's erection, and then they have group sex.
Another funny thing about this song is it's "message." The song is about Henley's problems with commercial media.
Here are some of the lyrics.
We got the bubble-headed-bleach-blonde who
Comes on at five
She can tell you bout the plane crash with a gleam
In her eye
Its interesting when people die-
Give us dirty laundry
This leads me to wonder if Pat Burrell even knows what this song is about? Or is it a meta thing, since he was an embatteled member of the franchise for most of his career? Curious.
If I was a baseball player, I think I would come out to "Lemon" by U2. Just because.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
I'm an okay prank phone caller. In the NBA, the term "volume shooter" is used to describe guys who score a lot of point but only because they shoot the ball so much. (Think of Allen Iverson, Kobe Bryant and Steve Francis.) I am a "volume" prank phone caller. The only ways I have good results in prank phone calls is by making a lot of them.
However, I know of one person who is a true prank phone call artist. That would be The Sixth Borough's own Emily Mcgraw.
In the time I have known Emily, she has proven herself to be a true master of "adult" voices. She somehow can change her voice at anytime she wants. I am incredibly jealous of this, as I can only do two voices: annoying and slightly more annoying.
One night, right as when we getting ready to rehearse, I brought to the table a prank phone call idea that I had taht I knew I would be unable to perform. But the maestro, Emily, stepped up to the plate and delivered a touchdown.
THE VICTIM -- a chain hotel located in West Deptford, NJ.
The front desk operator picks up the phone.
"Hello, this is Whatever Hotel, West Deptford, how may I help you?"
"Uhm, yes, I'm looking for room availability. Somewhere around late October or early November."
"Well, we probably have openings then. Do you know what date exactly?"
"Well, that's a good question. I'm not exactly sure. You see, I'm pregnant and I'm very ashamed of who impregnated me. None of my friends and family know. I've been researching on the Internet and I'm confident I can deliver my baby by myself."
"Uhm... I'll have to check with the manager about that."
"Well, can you answer some questions first?"
"Do you charge for extra towels? I might destroy a few."
"How deep is your tub?"
"They're fairly sizeable."
"Do you have a dumpster on the premises?"
"Yes, in the parking lot."
"GREAT! Well, I'll call you back when I get my due date finalized! Thanks!"
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
For me, I've always been into comedy. I've always had problems sleeping, so when I was in grade school and middle school I used to stay up late and watch Carson and Letterman every night. While my mom would rather that I had a healthy sleeping pattern, she also appreciated how much I loved these types of shows. So, she purchased me a bunch of Letterman's Top Ten list books. And also got me a subscription to Mad Magazine. And then I discovered with a bunch of my friends Saturday Night Live. And then our cable system got Comedy Central and then I started watching The Kids In The Hall, Mystery Science Theater 3000 and, my all-time favorite, Andy Kaufmann's "I'm From Hollywood."
It's just impossible to watch all of those shows without trying to be funny yourself. And, being a really weird kid who was really small and who got picked on a lot, being funny became my primary defense mechanism/way to get attention/main personality trait. A big part of my high school experience came from re-living my favorite comedy bits with my friends. To this day, I still know every line of the Jason Priestly episode of Saturday Night Live.
After high school, I went to La Salle, which I talk about waaaaay too much. This is because the people I met and became friends with in college are the funniest people I've ever met in my life. Most of the time, we'd just sit around, goofing off, drinking malt liquor and swapping stories. On top of that, our school had a really awful monthly open mic night. Most of the performers were pretentious English majors who read bad Sylvia Plath rip-offs, or were frat boys covering Smashing Pumpkins songs. I, however, started doing comedy. It was kinda really bad stand-up mixed in with poetic readings of Better Than Ezra songs and interpretive dance. Sometimes people would laugh but most of the time everyone was just completely baffled as to what I was doing. Also, it probably prevented me from having sex.
I was interested in trying to find a way to make it in comedy. But I didn't know anyone who was into comedy. All I knew about were comedy clubs that had really traditional stand-up, which I'm not really into. Then, I graduated, and got hired by a local newspaper. And I gave up the thought of professional comedy and instead tried my hand at being a "serious journalist."
The Next Step
Meanwhile, my younger brother got REALLY serious about comedy. He was into acting in high school (I was more into debate club and not doing homework) and joined his college's improv group. And then, from there, he started taking classes at the famous Upright Citizen's Brigade Theater. And then he started to carve out a little name for himself.
Obviously, I was a little jealous that he was able to do all of this. And at the same time, I saw the writing on the wall in professional journalism -- I really didn't want a job where I spent my nights at local school board meetings where I made $10 an hour. And I also was in grad school, getting a master's degree in international studies, and I wanted to maybe work towards being a professor. But the thought of another few years of school and the student loans and the like chased me from that.
I had a really boring office job at the time. So I started to write a lot, most of it funny. Some stuff got passed around a bit on the Internet, and, with my brother's encouragement, he got me a spot at a show he runs at UCB. I went in thinking that I was going to completely bomb and then I'd go back to my academic interests. But instead, my stuff got over really well. And that's when I knew that I wanted to do comedy in some capacity.
I found a few shows here in Philly. And then I saw a class offered at this place in South Philly in sketch comedy. I decided to give it a try, mostly as a lark. But it was actually really awesome.
And, more importantly, that's how I met Tabitha.
6th Borough Assemble!
I obviously don't want to speak for Tabitha and her interest in comedy. But I do know this about her -- she's always wanted to do comedy and she has the ambition and drive to try and get something started. I was e-mailing with her and a few other people some sketches we were writing. Then, she invited a bunch of people she knew to a meeting to discuss starting a sketch comedy group.
At first, there were probably like 25 people involved. It got whittled down to a more manageable eight. I didn't know any of these people and felt completely intimidated, as I usually do in most social situations. But then I learned that none of us really knew each other, except for Tabitha, and I didn't even really know her.
This could have been really disastrous. But, for the most part, we all hit it off immediately. These people were REALLY funny and super talented. There was nothing I liked more than trying to make these people laugh either with a sketch I wrote or in trying out a role. (I never acted before I joined the group, I was completely nervous because a bunch of the 6th Borough folks have a ton of acting experience and are REALLY good. I still feel pretty uncomfortable being in sketches but I'm also naturally an attention-whore so whatevs.)
We worked on our first show. Writing, rehearsing, practicing. Things got pretty tense, we didn't always see eye-to-eye, and despite that I liked all these people, I was pretty sure our show was going to be a giant failure and then I'd never see these people again.
But I was completely wrong. We did two shows. Both of them, combined, had like 300 people come to them. I still have no idea how this happened. But, more importantly, we got huge laughs and a giant applause after each of our shows.
This was the coolest thing I had ever been a part of in my life.
So, we've stuck together since then. There have been some conflicts (we could write a book about the craziness of our show in last year's Fringe Festival called "Adults") and a few people left the group, and not always on good terms.
Writing, rehearsing, editing, filming and putting on shows... it's not always fun. It's a big time commitment and, being a married homeowner, it sometimes gets in the way of other things I have to do.
But there's nothing I like better than trying to make these guys laugh. They're the hardest working and most committed people I know. And, not just that, but I also count them amongst the best friends I've ever had.
Serious part over. Back to being funny.