Comedian on Call - video blog - teaching Kanye West

Sonic Boom

Hopefully, you are like me and you love those Sonic restaurant commercials. Those guys crack me up. Living in LA, you don't see too many Sonics. In fact the closest one is in Anaheim some 30 miles away from Hollywood. So when I checked into my hotel in Lexington Kentucky and saw a Sonic just up the road I decided to go see what the funny commercials are all about.

It's a drive-in but they allow foot traffic. Whew! The food was what you would expect from a fast food place. I wasn't in love with the prices. What did wow me was the girl who brought my food out on Roller Skates. She was, as the kids say, “sick with it.” She deftly whizzed my food to me on a tray without dropping a morsel. Something about a person rollerskating makes spending money a little easier. Imagine your mechanic telling you you need a new transmission. Now imagine him rollerskating backwards, spinning around, and coming to a stop just inches away from you then breaking the news to you.

YOU: A new transmission? Yeaaaaaaa! Do the spin again!...Do it again...

Okay, maybe you wouldn't be that excited but it would soften the blow. The Sonic took me back to the times depicted on the show Happy Days. As a rule black people aren't too keen on going back. Perhaps we can go back a la carte?

Wear It On Your Sleeve

I was recently in....(sarcastic drumroll please)....Starbucks.

QSN: I realize my blog is way too cool (hopefully) for The Bucks to be my headquarters. If it makes it better I have found a new hip artsy coffee shop called Swork that I will be splitting my time between with the 3 Starbucks across the street..

Back to the story. I sat next to a guy with a sleeve tattoo. Not a tattoo of a sleeve (although that would've been be awesome. Especially if he had French cuffs drawn in) His whole arm had ink in tribute to his passion, music. I know music is his passion because on his arm he had musical notes, piano keys...oh yeah and the word “Passion” in the middle of it all. How cool would it be to ask him if his passion was something else?

ME: So you live for Scrapbooking huh?

TATTED UP GUY: No, music is my thing. It's right here on my arm...

ME: So...you're saying fishing is why you even get out of bed ...that's cool.

I don't have a problem with this guy's public proclamation of his passion. It's just odd that only people in the arts go to such lengths. I would wager that this guy does not make his living off music. Yet, you would be hard pressed to find an accountant with a gaudy tattoo of a ledger on his arm. Try finding a civil engineer with a tattoo of the coliseum with a protractor and compass. Can't do it.

No, professionals leave their self expression up to vanity license plates. Can't say I approve of that either but at least LDGR-GUY doesn't have to wear long sleeves to church.

Are You Ready For Some Football?

Today marked the first full day of the 09 Football Schedule. People have been gearing up for this for the past few weeks. Fantasy Football leagues have had drafts, favorite beer mugs have been polished, flat screens have been purchased. And how did I kick off the NFL's kick off?

I watched Women's Professional Bowling.

It was on when I turned my TV on and I found it intriguing so I didn't turn the channel. I used to watch bowling and wrestling with my grandmother so both make me instantly nostalgic. I also, for the most part, find professional women bowlers attractive. I think it's their attainable, real, girl next door look. In actuality most of them are married and unattainable (Maybe that's why I like them....hmmn...). I'm also a big fan of women Pool players. I suppose that can be more easily read into. Women with sticks is always fun, as long as they aren't mutilating them.

The woman I was routing for lost the match in the last frame by missing badly and leaving a 4-6-7-10 split. Ouch! Picture a smile with all the middle teeth missing and just the sharps ones on the sides left. Not cute in any vain unless the smiler is under 5. This holds true in bowling as well.

Why do we watch sports, or anything for that matter? To be entertained. And what makes it entertaining?...Close games, Suspense, seeing the participants go through the full gamut of emotions as they fight for victory. Well my bowling match had all of that except the players weren't roided up freaks of nature with zero body fat. Quite the contrary actually. :-)

I may watch football tonight to get back in touch with my inner Tarzan.

Saturday, In The Park...

Okay fine it was Sunday but I don't know any songs about being in the Park on Sunday. I was gigging at the legendary Punchline in San Francisco this weekend. My hotel was just a few blocks from China Town. Time for a Dim Sum Run Run....A Dim Sum Run.

On my way to wolf down some tasty “Bit Of Heart”* I came upon a park filled with kids playing on a Jungle Gym, groups of men and women playing cards and a band playing Chinese music with Chinese instruments. As I had just trekked up a hill that seemed perpendicular to the street below with my laptop on my back, a relaxing music break was in order. Other than my bum shoulder and bulky laptop, everything else was near perfect: Vibe, temperature, music, air quality, birds chirping...

As I sat there letting my quads recover from my mountain climb, enjoying the music of the Guzheng, the band was joined by some singers. A man and a woman took turns singing in Chinese. It seemed to be a call and response going on between the two. I could have asked someone what they were saying but that would have taken away the fun of me making up what they were singing.

In my head they were singing, in Chinese:

WOMAN: I gotta man!
MAN: What your man got to do wit' me?...

Mind you, they were both well over 50. (I bet that small detail makes your visualization a tad bit funnier...I hope it does at least.)

This wasn't a girl watching mission. It seemed like everyone in this park was under 6 or over 60. I got some looks but I think it was more, “why is this guy, not in the dawn or twilight of his life, in this park...and why is he black.”

I don't get to sit in the park and chill too often. I highly recommend it.

*Direct Translation of Dim Sum, various small Chinese dishes.

A Ride For Your Ride

I love the fact that Los Angeles buses have a bike rack in the front of them. For no additional cost you can plop your bike unto the front of the bus and you, and your ride, can ride to your location. Great for bike riders needing to go long distances. Bad for the integrity of bike races. I'm sitting in a Bucks in San Francisco writing this blog and I just noticed a bike rack on a San Francisco bus.

Is this bike rack thing common?

New York doesn't offer this service. NYC figures you got a bike...bike. (please note first bike was a noun, second bike a verb.)

Most LA buses can accommodate two bikes. Not sure how they handle it if there are three bikes waiting at the bus stop. Perhaps the most healthy looking one should have to get on their bike and pedal to his or her destination. Look on the bright side Ripped Guy With a Mesh Tank Top on...here's a wonderful calorie burning opportunity for you. Today, Hollywood to Santa Monica. Tomorrow, Tour de France.

I'm not sure what the policy is on those bikes with the big silly handle bars and I think it's safe to assume that if most buses can carry 2 bikes at a time then the unicycle capacity must be 4. Then again, if you ride a unicycle wouldn't the circus send a shuttle for you? Or maybe you spin for a low budget circus. Don't get down on yourself Unicycler things will pick up.

LA Metro Bike Info

Missing On A Star

It’s official. I think we need to add a missing girl segment to the news. People seem to need updates on missing girls as much as they need to know if they need to bring a sweater to work or what the score was last night. Our lost girl appetite is insatiable. We’re here already. Let’s call it what it is.

I’m not talking about merely covering the latest missing or rescued girl. I’m talking about a daily segment, like the weather or sports.

WEATHER MAN: Look for things to cool down by the end of the week but today will be a scorcher.

ANCHORMAN: Thanks Cole and now with the missing girl segment, here’s Patricia.

QSN: In the states (and let’s be honest by readership is international…I mean, a guy in Toronto counts right?) Anyhoo, here, weather men have to have names that sound like weather conditions. My previous scene is no different. My imaginary weather man’s last name is Front.

Don’t get me wrong people being abducted and taken from their family is very sad. But what makes the tears roll down my face is that the general populace doesn’t really care. We’re just gobbling up the sensationalism of it all. Also sad, 4 out of ten times the very family that’s on TV crying and pleading for help is responsible for their own little girl’s disappearance.

I’m just waiting for the missing little girl drinking games to start popping up.

QSN = Quick Side Note

Minty Breathe, Thus Said the Lord (Funny Blog from Comedy Central's Dwayne Perkins)

About 3 years ago, my mom gave me some mints for Christmas. Now before you go thinking my mother had a roll of Certs wrapped under the tree with my name on it, I should mention that it wasn’t the only thing she gave me and these were not regular mints. No Blog Nation, they were Test-A-Mints. I’m not sure what the Lord’s take on holy puns is but I love them.

Yet I kept the pious breath aids for 3 years without opening up the package. I guess I didn’t have a Mint situation divine enough to break out the Test-A-Mints. And surely you can’t use the Lord’s mints to help you trek down the road of fornication. That’s more of a job for Mentos.

QSN: If Test-A-Mints are the Mint from the man upstairs then could Mentos be the Mint of the man downstairs? After all, Mentos tells you to do whatever you please and just pop one afterward to be absolved; while the Test-A-Mints encourage you to be good from the outset. Just a really really silly and useless thought.

So I packed, moved, and unpacked and I thought it was time to dig into the heavenly hard candy. I just decided to open them. I wasn’t crying on the bathroom floor, looked up and saw the Test-A-Mints with a beam of light shooting out of them. Although that would have been cool. Turns out each mint has a small scripture on it. I didn’t know I was getting fresh breath and inspiration. You pay for the mint…the guilt is free. I’m kidding! The Mints are really good and come in 3 Godly flavors: wintergreen, peppermint and spearmint. No one can say the lord doesn’t believe in taste diversity.

I was waiting for a special moment to use the mints when I should have used them in my day to day life. Now, I’m testament happy but I still won’t use them for hookups…that is, if I ever have any hookups.

So Take, This Broken Fridge (Funny Blog from Comedy Central's Dwayne Perkins)

I recently moved. In the spirit of MSTs (Money Saving Techniques), I figured I would buy a used fridge…As long as it gets cold, right? I love how on MTV Cribs some rapper or athlete will have a stainless steel monstrosity of a fridge (SSMF) that cost more than my car but only has a few beers, soda and questionable bologna inside.

RAPPER: What’s that?!
ME: That’s the money you could have saved if you just bought a cooler and instead of your SSMF since you never cook or take home leftovers.

In Los Angeles you don’t get a fridge with your place. For a New Yorker it’s hard to wrap your mind around that concept. Who wants to move a fridge…ever?! I’m willing to roll the dice and get a fridge not as good as my last one. Let’s all just keep our fridges where they are…forever. Of course, this would greatly reduce the sales of the SSMF.

QSN: Fridge is spelled with a D and refrigerator doesn’t have a D. Write your congressman.

I came across the following add on craigslist:
Refrigerator - not working - $50 (Hacienda Heights)
________________________________________
Date: 2009-07-24, 3:43PM PDT
Reply to: someclown@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]
________________________________________
NEEDS REPAIR
great Refrigerator for someone who knows how to repair them
does not get cold.

What?!?! You want 50 dollars for something that doesn’t work at all? So you want me to pay you to move your broken fridge for you. Did I get that right? There’s gall and then there’s this. I almost want to reply to this person just to sucker punch him and tell him to stop trying to gain from every little thing and give something away every now and then.

ME: You see it as a busted lip. I see it as a reminder to pay it forward next time….You might want to put some ice on that. Doh! That’s right your fridge doesn’t work.

In true Brooklyn style I stumbled upon a Refrigerator that works for $50. Brooklyn…we go hard. Shout out to Philly on the help out. ( My friend from Philly told me about the fridge for sale)

Ginger Fail (Funny Blog from Comedy Central's Dwayne Perkins)

I always try to give props to my current city, The City of Angels. And I’ll always give props to my hometown…(sound the trumpets)…Brooklyn, NY. Not sure if you know this but we go hard.

Anyhoo, my current city has a gaping flaw that somehow is allowed to exist. Hopefully this blog will be the beginning of the patching up process. My complaint is not about flaky people or smog or traffic, although the traffic is soul sucking.

QSN: Being in LA traffic is like being attacked by Dementors. If you’re not careful, you’ll lose the will to live. You have to pop some chocolate and think happy thoughts. And in my case, curse yourself for driving a stick shift.

3rd paragraph and my complaint is still in the bag. Okay fine, I’ll go in. Many bars in this God forsaken city don’t have Ginger Ale on tap. Strike one for not carrying my favorite effervescent drink; strike two and three for mixing Coke and Sprite and calling it Ginger Ale. Let me give my New York readers a few seconds to catch their breath. Yes, you heard me correctly (that’s if you’re hearing my voice while you read. Otherwise you read correctly :-)

The fakakta bars in Los Angeles mix Coke and Sprite and call it Ginger Ale. It’s called “Ginger Ale” not “Ginger Colored Ale.” People order Ginger ale for its taste and medicinal qualities. These qualities are derived directly from the GINGER. If it was just a color issue you could just drop a few drops of food coloring into club soda. “This Ginger Ale sure is bland. But clearly it’s Ginger Ale because it’s an Amber color…” I don't drink so if I'm in a bar the only thing I have to look forward to is the game Funky Monkey and a refreshing glass of Ginger Ale.

It’s also hard to find Ginger Ale in convenience stores in Los Angeles. And don’t even get me started on how hard it is to get duck sauce at a Chinese restaurant in Los Angeles. And please, to my Asian readers, don’t tell me duck sauce doesn’t exist and is just a concoction made for the American palette….So? They placate us with it in New York and all along the eastern seaboard. Why not hook a brother up here in Los Angeles?

LA, we can do better.

*Fakakta - Yiddish term meaning lousy

Wiki Ginger Ale

Alarming Alarm (Funny Blog from Comedy Central's Dwayne Perkins)

I recently went to a friend’s house that had a pretty snazzy security system. If the front door was opened a voice would say “The Front Door.” If the patio was door was opened the voice would say “Patio Door.” I’m not sure I would want this system. It gives you just enough information to scare the be-jesus out of you. Okay it’s 3 am you’re in bed and your front door opens. Now what? If you’re anything like me you’re now ½ awake and in a state of paralysis. You’re somewhat awake, scared out of your skull and yet you can’t move a finger. In your head you’re bringing a wave of furry but in reality you’re hyperventilating on your back.

I would rather the system tell me more information about my intruder. “Front door, skinny druggie…grab a golf club.”…”Back door, neighborhood punks...grab a bat and call their moms”…”3 Ex-cons, lock your bedroom door and pray.”

Or maybe the voice should be a message to the would-be robber. “AK-47 locked and loaded.”…”Pit Bull coming to nosh in T minus 5 seconds”…”This house will self-destruct in T minus 30 seconds, giving the pit bull 25 seconds to lock on your neck before you are blown to shreds…”

Of course, I’m not sure I need such a system in my one bedroom apartment. For my purposes a string of rattling cans would work better. It would startle the robber and maybe startle me past my sleep paralysis.* If the robber trips on the cans, that would be a plus.

Sleep Paralysis
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sleep_Paralysis

Twice Written, Once Why (Funny Blog from Comedy Central's Dwayne Perkins)

So my trusty ’08 Saturn Ion was parked and minding its own business on a quite street in Mar Vista, CA when some one decided to tag its windshield with permanent marker. Who does that? I wish I caught the person in the act. Not only to stop them but to seriously ask why. No other car on the block was tagged…some kind of car initiation? Is this the car version of my car being “jumped” in? Although I suppose that act would be way more severe than graffiti writing.

The real comedy is that it happened 4 days ago and I’m still driving around with this guy’s tag on my car. It’s like my car has been turned into a subway train, pretty good for a tagger who lives in a place without a viable subway system. He’s getting play all over Los Angeles and Orange counties. Maybe that’s how he decided. Maybe he checked my odometer and said “This fool be driving!” Or maybe he checked then rubbed his chin like a villain dreaming of world domination…”They’ll know my tag all over the world…or at least everywhere this Saturn goes in the next week….I’ll live forever!...ha ha ha ha”

I’ve been meaning to see if I can get it off but life is what happens while you’re planning a graffiti removal. If I knew I was going to be a mobile ad campaign I would have signed up for something cheesy that pays like a “Watch Monk” Banner or maybe an ad for a Thai/Swedish message parlor.

And what if I can’t get it off? Then this random tagger and I will be linked for the next few years. I’ll show up to premieres with graffiti on my car and paparazzi will think I’m starting a new trend of taking economical cars and turning them into mobile hip-hop galleries. Or maybe they’ll think I’m starting a trend of driving myself to premieres in my “before money” car.

Much like the looks of guys, I can’t judge if a tag is good or bad. You be the judge.

Gone Too Soon (Funny Blog from Comedy Central's Dwayne Perkins)

I’ve purposely let some of the dust settle before addressing Michael Jackson’s passing. Well, the initial dust at least. Combine someone at the pinnacle of talent with someone also at the pinnacle of work ethic and you get Michael Jackson. I could watch rewind and watch one Michael Jackson spin over and over. As I’m sure he did that very move over and over until it was a spectacle unto itself. Most famous entertainers know they are lucky to have their fame and fortune. The best rapper knows there are at least a handful of rappers who, if given the right opportunity could take his spot. The same is true for writers, comedians, singers, athletes. But Michael Jackson has no peer. Being great and at the same time non-derivative and completely original is an amazing feat that can not be overstated. You can argue that Michael Jackson stood on the shoulders of Elvis, Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire, James Brown, Jackie Wilson. These men were all great in their own right. But Michael Jackson ascended to heights never before seen. It was Michael’s gift that made all his odd fashion and style appeal to us not the other way around. Michael Jackson’s kind of appeal that spans race, culture and age takes more than marketing and hype. It takes magic. It takes an ability to be so pure with your art that you touch people, captivate them and keep them entranced.

It goes beyond music, beyond dancing. MJ’s brand of greatness inspired hope. Just knowing that that kind of greatness existed in the world made people happy. Of course everything comes at a price. And to be that great for that long from such a young age definitely takes a toll. Huge notoriety is usually accompanied with equal depths of loneliness. Imagine having not one person who can truly empathize with you. Imagine being too famous to walk the street…in any country…even the non-industrialized ones. Imagine having scores of people alter their face to look like you. Imagine those same people altering their face again…to look like you. Imagine even your funeral is a sellout and tickets go for thousands of dollars. You don’t have to be behind bars to be a prisoner.

As for his legacy, I’m not sure it’s for me or anyone else to say but the fact that there is even such a great debate speaks to his enormous impact. I can’t begin to psychoanalyze someone I never met but I will say I’ve known people who’ve let something silly as winning a comedy contest go to their head. A comic can go from saying hi to not saying hi overnight. Or how about the person who loses weight and is all of a sudden cocky and aloof. We suffer these people because we know the human condition can be kooky. Now imagine being the most famous entertainer on the planet and one of the richest. You don’t think you would do some things that might seem odd to the broke masses. We’re talking about a guy who from age 10 would have his clothes ripped off by people he never met if he walked alone in public.

We forgot that he was a person. Maybe he forgot too. He belonged to the public. He was ours to emulate, spy on, question, make fun off. I’m not saying he should be absolved of wrong doing. I’m saying you can’t fully judge a man until you moonwalk a mile in his penny loafers. I don’t have a comment on the child thing except to ask, who are the parents who would let their children spend a minute with an accused molester? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, and maybe I’m using my kid as bait.

Also lost in the discussion is the fact that he was a great singer, especially as a child. Don’t let the glove fool you. His singing voice and vocal arrangements were as captivating as his dance moves. You ever wonder how Michael Jackson came up with “cha-mon?” Even something as simple as saying “cha-mon” instead of “come on” is brilliant.

QSN: Even before Michael’s passing I had decided to start saying “Cha-Mon” instead of “Come-on.” Now that MJ is no longer with us I think it’s even more apropos. “50 dollars for this chair?! Cha-mon! You gotta be kidding me.

I think the real debate should be what decade of his work is the best. Most would say the 80’s. I say go Youtube Mike in the 70’s with his brothers as a child and a young adult. It’s mind bending. The 90’s gave us Heal the World, You are Not Alone. Remember the Time, the Free Willy Song. He even “Rocked My World” in this decade.

His legacy? Well…Name one other person who can encourage a whole Filipino prison population to do a choreographed group dance to his music*. We’re talking prison where even the slightest sign of weakness will be exploited within an inch of death. And scores of grown bad asses can lift the tough guy code for a few minutes to join in on a Michael Jackson video reenactment. I’m going to stab you with a makeshift knife I made out of cardboard…right after our Thriller rehearsal.

Just think, Bad, Dangerous, History I & II all came after Thriller. So after he made the most listened to album ever he followed it up with another 3 classics! It’s sad to see a true icon and public servant go but luckily for us he left us with such an expansive catalogue of music, and videos that even generations to come will know his greatness and flip out over his work.

*The famous Filipino inmates have now done other songs and artists. But like always, the other dances can’t come close to the Michael Jackson one.

Movers and Shakers (Funny Blog from Comedy Central's Dwayne Perkins)

I spent the good part of today and yesterday moving stuff into storage. I actually counted my box trot as a workout. Carrying boxes or bags weighing 20-30 pounds down a flight of stairs over and over again has to count for something. I actually call it the IRS workout, taxing indeed. :-)

As I loaded up the Saturn it dawned on me how strenuous my current activity was. It also dawned on me that as a country we have an obesity problem. The problem is massive. I would go so far as to say our obesity problem is, well, obese. I smell a win-win situation. Everyday scores of people in our country have to move truck loads of stuff. And for every mover there must be 20 people within a 1 mile radius not very happy with their own radius.

I’m saying maybe we should mandate that the portliest of our brethren help people move.

JUDGE: This court has found you guilty of being on the verge of obesity…I hear by sentence you to help Dwayne move…

Jenny Craig ain’t got nothing on lugging a sofa with a pullout bed. Pilates does though.

We-A-We-A-We (Funny Blog from Comedy Central's Dwayne Perkins)

The other night I was driving on a California highway when a state trooper a few cars ahead of me put on his flashing lights and started driving across all the lanes in an “S” pattern. I’ve seen this before. They do it to stop traffic for workers or an accident. Imagine having that kind of power, legal swerving across all the lanes and the cars behind you have to stop. I hope the police officer said “weeee!” as he drove in spirals. I didn’t see any workers or an accident. Perhaps the cause of the spiral stoppage was beyond my sight. Or maybe the officer did this for the same reason I would….no reason at all.

I would do this just to make the highway almost like the start of a Nascar race. Seems irresponsible but remember I would still be in a cop car and the drivers would be scared to peel out knowing I was near. It would be more like the start of Nascar caravan.

Maybe we should give drunk drivers police lights so at least everyone else will adjust to them.

Pilates Hottie (Funny Blog from Comedy Central's Dwayne Perkins)

Much like financial investments it’s best to diversify your workout regime. I’ve always been interested in Pilates. To me Pilates is like Yoga without the chanting and sage (the spice or the mystic) I even have a Windsor Pilates workout tape that I’ve had for 6 years and never used. But I’ve been meaning to. I mean if it’s good enough for Daisy Fuentes its good enough for me.

So I was very pleased last year when a friend of mine opened up a Pilates Studio in Long Island. And I was game when she asked me to come do a session and be photographed. My friend’s studio, PILATES ABSESSION, employs the Pilates machines. The machines look like torture devices and sure enough my friend Karen tortured me. Don’t you worry though, if you go she’ll make sure your workout is strenuous but suited for your fitness level. But we had an unspoken fitness challenge that had been brewing for a while. She won. It was a blowout actually. Pilates is the truth. It definitely works. Karen is a mother of three and I would rather be back to back with her in a bar fight than with most guys I know. Let’s just say if Houdini did Pilates he would have survived that sucker punch to his belly.*

Until Karen reminded me last week, I had forgotten there were pictures of the butt whipping. When your muscles are shaking from trying to hold a pose any pictures taken are truly candid. I guess one was good enough to make the cut and now you can see me on the registration page of the Pilates studio.

This gives me impetus to work harder and become a household name. How cool would it be to go to a web page and see Johnny Depp doing Hip Hop abs. But this blog is about Pilates and my foray into modeling. It’s official, I’m a male model. I hope one day that pic of me will be a trivia question like Cuba Gooding Junior getting his haircut in Coming To America…sans lines.

Daisy Fuentes where are you? Call me. Let’s do lunch.

Pilates Absession. Check me in action

*Houdini died from a punch in the belly he wasn’t ready for.

Do I Amuse You? (Funny Blog from Comedy Central's Dwayne Perkins)

So I was on line looking for sample movie treatments. A treatment is a brief synopsis describing a movie. People usually write them to secure funding before writing an entire script. Of course I work backwards and needed to write a treatment for a movie script I’ve already written. (Brooklyn, we go hard.) Well, a movie I’ve co-written (South Pasadena goes hard as well)

I came across a treatment for a movie called Bly, the true story of Nelly Bly. Here’s an excerpt from that treatment:

The true story of Nellie Bly, a penniless young woman in 1890s New York

who claws her way up from obscurity to revolutionize journalism and then becomes her own biggest story when she races around the globe to shatter the record of Jules Verne’s legendary hero in Around the World in 80 Days – a feat which makes her the most famous woman on earth…

She sounds like a pretty amazing woman. But here’s what made my eyes go wide. Nellie Bly is the name of a second rate amusement park near Coney Island, Brooklyn. I grew up walking past Nellie Bly and I never knew it was named after a great American. To find this out makes me sad. This woman went around the World faster than anyone else; she exposed corruption in the mental health field as an undercover journalist. She basically shattered any expectations the world had for a woman born in 1864. And we honor her with a shabby amusement park? Nellie Bly is lower on the amusement park totem pole than Coney Island’s Astroland which itself has become second rate compared to current amusement parks.

Ok…let’s say Six Flags is the Lakers. Coney Island would be the Clippers and the Nellie Bly Park would be the guys playing basketball on Venice Beach. (Disney Land would be Manchester United, a totally different massive animal)

Okay, I’ll admit this great American’s name does make for a great amusement park moniker but I just hope the kids remember who she was in the back of their minds as they say weeee…on the hammer ride.

If I get the Puffer Fish I’ve been wanting for ages, maybe I’ll name it Nellie Bly. Would that be honoring her?

Nellie Bly, The woman

Saber Tooth (Funny Blog from Comedy Central's Dwayne Perkins)

The other day I walked into a bar/restaurant to meet some friends. On my way to my friends’ table I ran into another friend. I made a slight detour and stopped to chat for a sec with the friend I had bumped into. As we chatted some of her friends arrived. Introductions were made and I said hi to the new comers. I shook each of their hands and repeated each of their names. As I started to excuse myself (remember, I still had my original friends waiting) a girl I had just met from my detour table said to me

NEW GIRL: I don’t want to interrupt your phone call!

Huh? Then I realized I had my Bluetooth still on. I had parked my car minutes before and I forgot that I still had it on. So then I said…

ME: I’m sorry but I’m not on the phone. I just got out of my car and--

NEW GIRL: Right…Well when I get out of my car I take off my sunglasses…

Huh? I’m not capturing her tone here. She was implying that I was being all “Hollywood”. I let the first dig go but the second one was totally uncalled for. I don’t think one forgotten Bluetooth leave-in is enough to be labeled rude or “Hollywood”.

I was about to explain to her that as it what night time, to leave your shades on would be a much graver offense. Mainly because to leave shades on at night, a person would be actively choosing blindness to pull of a look. I on the other hand forgot I had the stupid Bluetooth, which I’m mandated by the state to wear when I’m driving and talking, on.

I was about to say something but I spotted my original friends and joined them. Her words lingered a bit and the first 3 bites of my Chicken Fried Rice weren’t as enjoyable as they could have been. The fourth bite was delish! Shoulder cleaned…and dirt removed.

QSN: The Formosa café in Hollywood is a bar that serves Chinese food... Amazing right?!

Later on I shared the story with my Ace Boon Coon (aka homeboy.) He was convinced that the girl actually liked me and was trying to get my attention. Huh? She had my attention. It made perfect sense after I thought about it. My detour table had a bunch of stand-up comics that I didn’t know, so maybe there was hierarchy tension I didn’t unnoticed. Also, the New Girl’s dig came after I announced that I would have to go to my original destination table. Was that her sarcastic last ditch effort to get me to stay and banter?

Whatever the case, I didn’t speak to that girl again for the rest of the night. Even on my way out I said goodbye to detour table but not to her directly. What are your thoughts?

It seems the world over seeks attention. It’s almost the real currency and money is just a symptom of attention. My inadvertent Bluetooth leave-in maybe sent a signal to detour table that I thought I was more important or that I wasn’t going to pay full attention to them. That I was a click away to bigger, better more important voices coming into my right ear.

It didn’t mean that but funny how New Girl taking it that way caused her to be actually ruder than my Bluetooth leave-in suggest I may have been.

QSN = Quick Side Note

Didn’t Mama Tell You To Wear Clean Undies(Funny Blog from Comedy Central's Dwayne Perkins)

So, two weeks ago I did a show at the Improv in Hollywood as a favor for a friend. It was a last minute thing and the money was funny but he assured me the room would be packed and I actually needed the stage time.

What was set to be a regular Hollywood show filled with hipsters and tourists (the weekday crowd)*, turned out to be a televised television taping for Last Call with Carson Daly. In a last minute coup, my friend somehow worked a deal with them. Suddenly my charity show became a very respectable paying gig for national television. I left the house that morning not knowing I would be on TV. Thankfully I had my mobile apartment, my ‘04 Saturn ION with the manual roll down windows, with me. Or maybe I was with it. Whatever the case, I luckily had some wears in my ride suitable for national television. (Even if the television coverage is at 1:30 am and barely beats the Sham Wow commercials in the ratings.)

The show went well. But you can see for yourself tonight on NBC’s Last Call with Carson Daly, immediately following Jimmy Fallon.

I was taken back to when my grandmother told me to always wear clean underwear in case I got into an accident and they needed to undress me, I would have clean undies. There’s a gaping whole in this logic. If the accident is severe enough, you can forget about clean underwear. Or maybe the doctors will disrobe you and say:

Doctor: Other than the involuntary movement, this patient had on extremely clean undies.

Catch me tonight on Last Call with Carson Daly.

* Valley and Inland people (aka bridge & tunnel) dominate the weekends in Hollywood.

Take Your Records, Take Your Freedom (Funny Blog from Comedy Central's Dwayne Perkins)

So, every time I send out an email to my mailing list, which is maybe once a month but realistically more like once every two months, I get people unsubscribing to my list. Mind you all these people are people who gave me their email address at one point or another. I send out emails at this infrequent pace partly because I’m busy and not really an ace when it comes to promotion and partly because I don’t want to be “that” guy wearing out his welcome.

I get my share of junk email and promo email to sift through. But it’s email. Tossing it requires a click and keeping it requires nothing, especially with yahoo and the like offering unlimited space. I’m not suggesting people be like me and have 2016 unopened email messages in their inbox but (my hurt feelings aside) does your inbox need to be pristine? It costs you nothing. Plus, like anything in life, it’s so easy to get bogged down with administration that you never get to any actual work. For me, unsubscribing or blocking every email that I don’t have immediate use for would take up so much time that I probably wouldn’t have been able to hit you with this month long blog-o-thon. :-)

I have a junk email filter to weed out some of the unwanted stuff but I still occasionally miss an important business email that was mistakenly redirected to the spam folder. It’s not an exact science.

I’m not privy to each unsubscriber’s story but could they all really be too busy or annoyed to suffer an email from me every other month that they don’t even have to read. Does ensuring they never get my bi-monthly email ever again really free up their lives? It’s email, not homework. Or maybe they’re upset that I took a long lay-off…You think you could just go away and pop upout of the blue with your show announcements. Where were you when we needed you!?...

I get 3 emails a day from the Minister of Finance from a made up country asking me to put 6 million into my bank account, thus helping him stave off a coup. I think these may be frauds…maybe. But I simply erase them. And many of my friends send me emails. I read them if I have time or maybe delete them without reading them but I don’t block them from ever sending me an email again.

Funny thing is I get many people asking me why I don’t send out more updates. I guess I’m afraid of getting more unsubscribers. It’s silly now that I think about it; to stay away from supporters just because in doing so I may have to part ways with non-supporters. I’m a bit hurt but more confused at the absoluteness of it all.

How come you never call?….You shouldn’t have called!...