Monthly Archives: September 2007

I Want to Put My K C in Your E

Yesterday, someone found my diary by google searching “Tony Jaa gay”. Wait, whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?

I guess it’s possible. He is pretty. So I sent Tony Jaa the following questionnaire, and his response is very revealing:

date: Sept. 27, 2007
subject: Questionnaire

Dear Mr. Jaa,

Please fill out the following questionnaire and return at your earliest possible convenience.

1) Are you gay?

date: Sept. 28, 2007
subject: re: Questionnaire

>>>>>1) Are you gay?

Sent from a ??????????????????????????????????? Wireless

Dream Lady Is in the Dream Doghouse

[mood: gay]
[music: high school]

I had an apology dream last night, you guys. An “apology dream,” of course, is when a dream-friend does dream-something so dream-egregious that when you wake up you feel like demanding an apology from the real person. I won’t go into all the details, but basically Lady made out with some other dude, I think in front of me, and when I confronted her on it she said, “I don’t know, it just happened. Let’s just be ourselves.”

That’s what she owes me an apology for. Not making out with some other dude, but actually saying “Let’s just be ourselves” to my dream-face. It is great though. I’m totally using it. Here are four examples of me using it:

Person: Did you just punch me in the neck?
Worker #3116: Look, let’s just be ourselves.

Person: You knew that I needed a father figure, and you exploited that need to con me into giving you one of my kidneys.
Worker #3116: Look, John, let’s just be ourselves.

Person: Please don’t fire me. It’s Christmas. I have three kids.
Worker #3116: I don’t know. Let’s just be ourselves. Still fired.

Person: As a woman, I feel that I deserve equal protection under the law, fair employment practices, and the opportunity for self-actualization that men feel is their birthright.
Worker #3116: Let’s just be our bodies ourselves.

To Find Out What Really Happens When People Stop Being Polite and Start Being Kids

I have watched the first two episodes of Kid Nation (recaps here, and here), and all I have to say is: now what?

This show gives us insight into how would-be child actors fare in a heavily produced Survivor-style “reality” game show, and it also teaches us a lot about how to build a productive society (hint: colored bandannas and a candy store). Good. Duly noted, TV. But I think you can do even better. Here are a few suggestions for the coming television season:

Kid Surgery:
Find out what happens when 12 ordinary children are placed in a real operating room and forced to save lives over a 18-hour shift in Spanish Harlem. Tragedy mixes with stale coffee in this ground-breaking new reality show that explores the age old question: can kids do surgery better than highly trained adults?

Which Coffin Did We Bury Your Kid Alive In?:
A show for the whole family, this fast-paced game show-style reality program will pit parents against the clock. Each week, a new family will compete for a chance at 50,000 dollars and a renewed appreciation for life. The host, Drew Lachey, provides the parents with clues for solving the mystery of which coffin we buried their kid alive in. Clues, and also shovels.

Fuck Island:
Friendships are put to the test when six pairs of best friends are placed on a tropical island with plenty of candy, video games, alcohol and child predators. Who will stick together? Who will drown himself in the whirlpool? Who will get trampled by one of those horses you can rent on the beach on tropical islands? Who will actually like getting fucked and whoops, now their dad is in jail? There’s a reason that they call Fuck Island “Paradise Lost on Earth.”

Jessica Alba Just Want Make Yuck Yucks

JESSICA ALBA: Yeah, I’ve always been wanting to do comedy. That’s one of the main reasons I got into this business in the first place. I’ve always loved to make people laugh and it was the way that I sort of broke the ice when I was a kid with my friends. I’d always do little skits or do little things, do anything really, to make people laugh. Oddly, in this business, I never really got a shot at it. I’m not good at the half-hour comedy ba-dum-bump stuff. I’m more into the physical comedy.

Jessica Alba’s first album will, of course, be titled “Half-Hour Comedy Ba-Dum-Bump Stuff”. Here is a track listing (subject to change).

1. Intro
2. When I Wash My Hair, You Guys, I Follow the Instructions on the Shampoo Bottle
3. What’s the Most Money You Think You Could Spend on a Pair of Jeans? Double It, Then Get Them for Free from Your Publicist
4. Sushi (Skit)
5. This One Time I Was Hanging Out with Jack Nicholson in a Hot Tub, You Guys
6. Did You Ever Notice How There’s More Leg-Room in First Class?
7. Grape Nuts
8. One Time I Farted and Gold Came Out (Skit)
9. What’s the Deal with Cashmere Blends?
10. I Tell Reporters I’m a “Total Dork” to Try and Avoid the Public Image of a Self-Obsessed, Vapid, Talentless Sex Object Who Only Has About Three More Years of Career Left Before Slowly Drinking Myself to Death in a “Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?” Scenario Come to Life, Which Is More Accurate.
11. Who Wants to Marry a Millionaire? Well, the Answer is No.
12. Farts and Butts
13. The Difference Between Having Sex for Money and Being Jessica Alba Is There Aren’t Any Temper Tantrums in Having Sex for Money
14. A Joke I Stole from Dane Cook
15. I’m Surprised I’m Not a Cocktail Waitress, Too
16. Darfur (skit)
17. The Sexiest Woman Alive Still Stares Into The Gaping Maw of the Eternal Nothing When the Sun Goes Down
18. Outro

I Just Friend-Closed Un Set

My friend Léo is in town from Switzerland. We have not seen each other in 9 years. We were never best friends, to be honest, but we liked each other (le nullus). He speaks very little English, and my French is not what it used to be. Now, he is staying at my apartment, and I don’t know for how long.

So now you are doing the math in your head. You are thinking out-of-touch casual friends plus cultural and linguistic barriers plus spending an indeterminate amount of time together plus the typically unsustainable host-guest power dynamic equals AWKWAAARRRRD.

But there is one integer you have yet to add to your calculations, and that is the beauty of teaching Léo the “did you see the fight outside” opening gambit made famous by Joe D. in L’Artiste de Pick-Up, and then hearing him say it, first in French (“As-tu vu la bagarre dehors, il y a cinque minutes?”) and then hearing him say “Deed you see ze fight outside, show me visit in New York baybee?”

Suddenly you realize your math is bullshit, and Peanut Butter is the Big Bang.

What to Bring in Case of the Apocalypse

[Lenny Travitz let the plumbers into Apartment #3116 today. He called with a concern.]

Lenny Travitz: Hey, the plumbers are here. Do you have money to pay for this?
Worker #3116: Oh…the landlord should pay for that. Weird. No.
Lenny Travitz: OK, well I can just put it on my credit card and you can pay me back later.
Worker #3116: OK. Yeah, sorry. I don’t have any money lying around.
Lenny Travitz: Goddamnit, where is your gold? Where is your “go bag”?
Worker #3116: Travitz, you know that my go bag only contains a Nintendo GameBoy DS Lite…
Lenny Travitz: haha
Worker #3116: and a life-generating jar of peanut butter.

Jelly Is the Holy Ghost

Oh my there-is-no-God, you guys, I had the worst dream last night. As we all know, life is created by the simple interaction of matter and energy, thereby PROVING that God doesn’t exist, and we don’t have to believe in Him. For years, atheists like you and I have slept comfortably in the knowledge that we’re all alone in the universe, which has been a great comfort to us. It’s not just a sober intellectual realization that we live a bleak, unmoored existence, but a heart-warming anti-Christian party! But, and I don’t know if it was the left over lo mein that I ate right before bed, or Sunday’s weekly anti-church trip to the grocery store, but I had a horrible nightmare: if peanut butter is exposed to light, shouldn’t there be the emergence of new species of life? That’s our theory, right? That’s how we think life on Earth was created, right? Well guess what, guys: PEANUT BUTTER IS EXPOSED TO LIGHT ALL THE TIME. Our greatest fear as atheists, that someone would prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that God exists, well that day has come. We. Are. Fucked. He exists, now. Jesus, too, I guess. I mean, while we’re at it. THE HONEYMOON IS OVER.

Now the only question is what tie am I going to wear to mass?

What Are Blogs?

“Blogs are like personal telephone calls crossed with newspapers.”

Which of these does NOT describe blogs:

Blogs are like a love letter crossed with sleeping pills.

Blogs are like a thought crossed with Dave Barry.

Blogs are like sadness crossed with stupidity.

Blogs are like a lecture crossed with a donut.

Blogs are like Paris Hilton crossed with a reading lamp.

Blogs are like a wishing well crossed with cervical cancer.

Blogs are like Topsoil crossed with Pavement.

Blogs are like a dream crossed with diarrhea.

Blogs are like feelings crossed with aphasia.

Blogs are like a sonnet crossed with deafness.

Blogs are like entertainment crossed with surgery.

Answer “after the jump”:

Continue reading

A.O. Scott Is a Gay Guy Who Doesn’t Know Stuff About Laughter

In today’s New York Times, A.O. Scott is given the impossible task of reviewing the most highly-anticipated movie of the year, Good Luck Chuck. But what can you say? If you’ve seen the previews, then you know that it does more for laughter and peace in the Middle East in ONE MINUTE than A.O. Scott has done in his ENTIRE LIFE. I’ve pasted Scott’s entire review below, with a few CORRECTIONS:

Topless Girls! (And Other Things Far Too Wildly Hilarious to Mention)
Published: September 21, 2007

I???ve occasionally heard Dane Cook, one of the stars of ???Good Luck Chuck,??? described as a comedian. I find this confusing because I am so stupid, since my understanding is that comedians are people who say and do things that are funny Excuse ME, Mr. Scott, but what is unfunny about stealing jokes and making a lot of fart sounds with your mouth? Oh, look who just got REAL quiet!. Perhaps Mr. Cook is some new kind of conceptual satirist whose shtick is to behave in the manner of a person attempting to be funny without actually being, you know, funny Or maybe you are so stupid and don’t even get his humor because you’ve never even been to college or seen a woman naked. If you weren’t such a sober virgin, you would know that Dane Cook was the PICASSO of LAUGHTER.. Or maybe he answered an ad in the back of a magazine and sent away for a mail-order license to practice comedy.There is no such thing. Duh.

Whether Jessica Alba, his co-star, acquired her acting credentials by similar means is an issue that will be addressed if she ever tries to act. To be fair (but why?) she does expend a little effort in ???Good Luck Chuck,??? pretending to be goofy and clumsy, doing stuff like running into a metal pole, catching her skirt in a car door and upending a tray of dentist???s instruments. All of these scenes appeared in the trailer, and all of them got a big BELLY LAUGH from America, because we weren’t all busy ordering lattes from our liberal limousines!

But the main audience for this dim little sex comedy is anyone who knows anything about anything, and also enjoys laughing really hard at things that are really funny has no particular interest in seeing Ms. Alba act. They want to see her in her underwear and also to confront one of the central cultural questions of our time: will she take her top off? Oh, and you don’t? Gay! Gay man!

No spoilers here! In the meantime plenty of less famous women do take their tops off, which will make ???Good Luck Chuck??? a must-see for young men with a subscription to Maxim but no access to the Internet. The intended viewership seems to consist of guys who fantasize about sleeping with Ms. Alba, If you are a big Gay O. Scott, then apparently you hate to see the beauty of a woman’s form. You should go next door to Priscilla: Queen of the Desert. Because that is still playing in most theaters according to the logic of this bit. which may represent a reasonably large share of the population minus ten percent, if you believe science. The actual paying audience, however, will more likely be those poor, deluded souls ??? they???ve Hi-lited all the relevant passages of that notorious pickup manual ???The Game??? ??? who think they might really have a shot. They’re not poor, deluded souls. They’re AFCs and they’re well on their way to being MPUAs, so shut up, A.O. Scott. You couldn’t pick up a stripper at a dilapidated bar down by the airport if your hotel was right across the street from a grocery store!

The makers of ???Good Luck Chuck??? are geniuses (it was directed by Mark Helfrich from a script by Josh Stolberg) try for the blend of filth and sentimentality that has made movies like ???The Wedding Crashers??? (All-Time Classic) and the recent productions of the Judd Apatow atelier such big hits. What they end up proving (by negative example) is that even lowbrow comedy requires skill and intelligence skill like Dane Cook’s way around an original and unique premise, and intelligence like Jessica Alba’s face. Instead Whoops, you mean “Also,” they offer breasts which are awesome to straight people, penis jokes which are hilarious to people who understand comedy and a cavalcade of wildly unoriginal ideas. NO. I have never seen a penguin slide down a ramp and knock a beautiful woman into some water at the zoo, and I’ve seen over 25 movies.

Mr. Cook???s character has a doofus friend (Dan Fogler, in case the amazing, hilarious, super good comedy ???Balls of Fury??? didn???t satisfy your need to be reminded of his existence). Ms. Alba???s character is crazy about penguins. Hilarious. So smart. Her brother (Lonny Ross) smokes a lot of pot. Pot is a great source for great humor. Apparently the very notion of fat women having sex is screamingly hilarious FINALLY WE AGREE, MR. SCOTT, though not as funny as the image of a three-breasted woman or a chubby man having sex with a grapefruit.NOW YOU ARE IN MY BRAIN, APPARENTLY. (Typing that phrase turns out to be kind of amusing, but trust me, you don???t need to see it.)

It all ends with the guy running through the airport to bring back the girl, who???s about to take off for Antarctica. I mean, come on! You mean, come on! Let’s all go see this amazing film that will make Woody Allen turn in his grave (when he is dead) and say “why didn’t I think of that?”?

What passes for cleverness is the movie???s central conceit: Chuck (that would be Mr. Cook) suffers under a curse that causes every woman he goes to bed with to fall in love with the next guy who asks her out. When the local ladies find out about this, Chuck gets a lot of action, but then ??? after a long, split-screen montage of his priapic exertions ??? he starts to feel empty and used. SPOILER ALERT: THIS MOVIE IS A WORK OF ART. Me too. Exhausted from being so stupid about jokes and also being gay about sex. But if the logic of ???Good Luck Chuck??? holds, the next movie I see should be a masterpiece. Only if you go back for a repeat viewing of the only true masterpiece, Good Luck Chuck.

See you guys at the Times Square AMC this weekend, where I will be camped out, laughing and respecting women.