Friday, January 27, 2006

I <3 winter

I could be sad about cold weather, the state of the world, Ford and G.M. losing assloads of money, but the other day, at Target, I bought an ice cube tray that makes ice cubes in the shape of little hearts, and it was only a dollar.

Now I have heart-shaped ice cubes. Or, I guess, ice hearts actually.

Whenever I get myself a soda, I smile.

Then I think, well, they're probably made out of some sort of polypropylene petroleum byproduct, and Target probably has them made at some super-pollutionary plant in China where they pay their workers in farthings or dust or in not getting beat up...

But they're hearts, ice cube hearts, and for some stupid reason that makes me happy.

Best dollar I ever spent.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Hey White People

Seriously, we've got to chill out on the sandals and flip flops in public. I was on the train today and I saw a young man wearing those Teva-style sporty sandals, no socks, just his dry-ass toes hanging out.

By the way, it's January and we're in New York. I don't care if it was a balmy 45° today, this is just unacceptable.

The subway is unpleasant enough, I don't want to see your damn feet. And I know this kid had enough money to buy shoes, he was wearing a tweed blazer, two polo shirts (you know, because layering is all the rage), and tan linen pants. Linen!

Put Some Fucking Shoes On.

I don't care what the kids in the Abercrombie catalog are telling you to do, they aren't in the most crowded city in the country riding a 100-year-old subway system. If they they were it wouldn't be all LaCrosse and Frat Boy Latent Homoeroticism, they'd for damn sure be wearing some sturdy shoes.

Sunday, January 22, 2006

I got some ink this weekend

Nah, not a tattoo (tattoos are so 90's). I had my picture in this weekend's New York Post for an article on the alternative comedy scene in the city.

The photo didn't make the online edition but a picture of my buds Bob Powers and Todd Levin did. Their show, How to Kick People, and the show I was playing when I got my picture taken, Liam McEneaney's Tell Your Friends, were both featured prominently in the piece.

Not a bad way to get the new year kicked off. And today I'm following my media triumph by catching the first 20 minutes of "Nick Fury: Agent for Shield" a David Hasselhoff 'movie' that is so terrible it's amazing.

I know I should try to capitalize on the media hit, but this movie is seriously fascinating in it's terribleness. Hasselhoff... is... mesmerizing...

Thursday, January 19, 2006

Who Says I Can't Take Rejection?

All ya gotta do is be polite, and maybe lie a little.

Par example (which is French for fer'instance): I just got a video tape sent back to me from the good people at the Tonight Show With Jay Leno. Included with the tape was a letter on Tonight Show stationary, addressed personally to my manager saying thanks for sending the tape, we enjoyed viewing it but we can't offer Rob a spot.

Now I just sent the tapes out exactly two weeks ago which means they were in possession of it at most a week, so I doubt they actually watched it; but the fact that they took time out of their day to personalize a rejection letter is quite gracious.

To contrast, the folks at Late Night with Conan O'Brien have been sending out the same form letter, word for word, since they started in '93. There's not even a salutation on the letter, it just starts in with a coldly worded "thanks but no thanks." I'm surprised they didn't just get a huge red stamp that says "DENIED!" on it.

It all reminds my of my days in rock bands. When I was in The Steppingstones we actually viewed it as progress when we started getting personalized rejection letters. In fact, our biggest response from a press kit sent to a record company was when we made our page of press quotes entirely out of quoted passages from our rejection letters.

Yeah, we were geeks.

Anyway, I sent the Conan folks a tape on the same day. I can't wait to see if they updated their rejection letter.

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Sometimes I lie awake worrying

Sometimes I lie awake worrying, what if I become the leader of an African nation? And after a few years, even though I've improved the quality of life for most of the citizens, people begin to resent me because rumors that some of the investments I've made on the side are making me rich?

What if there's a coup? What if I'm forced to leave the country? What if I try to take with me some of money I've made by completely legitimate means and all I need is someone in the United States or England to act as a proxy but they won't do it even though I offer them ten percent for their trouble?

Man, I'd be so pissed.

Monday, January 09, 2006

American Pie X

I give the producers of the American Pie series about two more films before they give up and just start releasing porn. Their latest release, a straight-to-video offering about the oft-referenced, debaucherous Band Camp, is being marketed by touting what the producers believe to be it’s strongest selling point: it’s un-rated.

In the world of movies “un-rated” means “more boobs.”

With a wink and a nudge they’re basically saying “buy this movie and you’ll see naked hotties running around, and maybe there’ll be a plot.”

Soon the producers will entirely drop the charade of making a comedy and just start selling their videos via late night infomercials for $19.95 a month. Films like Band Camp offer titillation for the people that are afraid to cross over into the section of the video store behind the beaded curtain that says “adults only.”

It’s the same market as the people that go to Hooters and say it’s for the wings. We all know that's crap. Those people should just admit that as the result of various issues they're unable to go to a strip club so they go to a place where there are women running around in tiny outfits and flirting with middle-aged men

Come to think of it, why hasn’t their been a Coyote Ugly-type film about the girls of Hooters? If there isn't, I'm going to write it. That’s it, I’m dropping everything and going down to their corporate offices in Tampa. I should be able to write the treatment on the plane, it's not like it has to be good or anything.

Look for it on DVD next spring.

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

The War on Reason

Apparently there was a War on Christmas. I hope it turned out o.k. but I’m a little worried. I see Christmas trees lying in the streets and people putting their Christmas decorations in boxes and hiding them away in attics. Is the Christmas Gestapo coming to knock on our doors?

Stand up people! First they came for the candy canes, then they came for the reindeer…*

Some people
are quick to call anything a war. Couldn’t this be a “debate over how to celebrate a religious holiday in a diverse society”?

No, that has far too many words in it, and it doesn’t use the word “war.” War is how certain people define themselves.

I grew up listening to these people, constantly telling me there was some kind of cultural or spiritual war going on somewhere. In ’92 Pat Buchanan told the country there was a religious war going on. I grew up in an Evangelical Christian household** and our entire world view was defined by our belief that there was a war in the spirit world between the forces of good and evil in which our souls were the spoils.

Let me tell you, it’s a lousy way to look at the world. You see the devil everywhere—in music that you don’t like, in politicians you disagree with, in those no good teenagers.

And even in the words, “Happy Holidays.”

GET THEE BEHIND ME SATAN!! Thou hast taken the form of a Wal-Mart greeter! O, your perniciousness knows no bounds!

Next year I'll be ready, armed to the teeth to defend Christmas. Ready to do unto others before they do unto my way of life. Ready to judge my neighbor as I would never judge myself. I'll bring peace on this earth no matter what it takes.

*This marks the 98 billionth time a holocaust quote was used to hysterically prove point.

** I really did. My grandparents founded the Armenian Evangelical Church of Waukegan, my dad worked with a missionary organization since before I was born, and at age 6 I went with the family to Isreal where I was baptized in the Jordan River. Top that punk-ass O’Reilly!!

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

From the Unconscious Mind of Mencia

I am a fraud.

Must keep the audience responding so they can't see the fear in my eyes. I'll do whatever gets a reaction.

Shit, that joke I just did was kind of hacky. Did anyone notice?

There's someone in the audience not laughing. He knows that I'm a pretender!! If other people see him not laughing they'll catch on!

Must put a stop to this. Must attack!! It's him or me.

Call him retarded!

Use the voice!

Dit de duh

I think that worked. Now back to the material.

Shit.

That Mexican joke kind of bombed. If I can't make fun of Mexicans, what's left? These people will ruin me, I have a family to feed!

Lean forward, point at the audience, and SCREAM!

It's working.

Hooray for German efficiency.

Please make the checks out to "Ned"