Baby Stay Out

I get the message lound and clear.

I just went to my first "baby shower" last night. It turns out that the guest of honor had already had two baby showers, and this evening was actually a scheduled intervention for me to rid me of my desire of ever having a child.

I admit I have been babbling a lot on stage about what it would be like to be a Mommy, but it hasn't always been this way. I spent my entire adolescence babysitting, so I've experienced first-hand the terrible twos, a 5lb dirty diaper deluge, and my fair share of insolence. One kid locked me out of her house then waved at me through the glass door. Her parents laughed and said it was her favorite trick. My favorite trick when I was little? Eating all my vegetables then falling asleep to Charlotte's Web. It's about discipline, America!

Now my twenties are here, and for some reason I feel differently. Maybe it's the odd gray hair I spy in the mirror, maybe it's the triplet strollers everyone pushes in my neighborhood, or maybe I want a reason for having stocked my kitchen with rubber-coated spoons and strained peas.

First my friends began by ruining my illusion of how breast milk comes out. Apparently it leaks from all crazy areas on the boob. Gone are the hilarious days I envisioned robbing banks and blinding cops by using them as a squirt gun. I'll stop taking my cues from Frida Kahlo.


Then they passed an actual baby around. I thought this was a send-off! A celebration of the last free moments on Earth. While we're at it why don't we make sure wives attend bachelor parties? Let's select thesis topics at high school graduation open houses! It didn't help that the baby cried every time I held her. Can babies smell fear?

Finally they all circled around me saying horrible things like "mucus plug" and "placenta recipes". I decidedly ran out screaming. Then I went back, grabbed four daisy-shaped cupcakes, and ran out again.

I'm going back to Target to place bets on how long it takes kids to throw fits in various departments. And of course, to offer my spanking services.

The Force...It's Got a Lot of Power

It is very easy to take potshots at celebrities, and it is also very fun and guilt-free because they are not real people, but it is my duty to beat a dead horse when it feels fresh to me. I am of course, about to bring up Michael Jackson.

I had one of his songs stuck in my head, "Don't Stop Till You Get Enough", and was singing it loud and free until someone challenged me with the conundrum that has plagued teens since 1979. "What is he saying in the beginning, before the song starts?" Oh, that's easy...it's just...um...HEY. What the nut IS he saying? How have I gone for years without challenging this? (Probably the same way I pretend I know Seal's lyrics, the backstory to which is here, but keep reading this first).

Trying to recall from memory just produces a bunch of mumbles:

I was wonderin'...if I could sham on...because of course...it's the word I say that makes no sense, and...WOO!

Then I went to the Internet to see what other people are writing:

Nobody Cares.

So I had to consult my dvd collection of his greatest hits (thank you Circuit City):
You know I was...I was wonderin’ if...if you could keep on, because the force it’s got a lot of power and…it makes me feel like…it makes me feel like eh…WOO!

Really? That's what he's muttering? The FORCE? Someone should write a book called the Six Degrees of Star Wars. This is the worst case of ad-libbing I've seen since my last show where I said "Country music sucks," and a girl in the audience said, "Not all of it. Dolly Parton is okay," and I said, "Yeah, but that's OLD school country" instead of reminding her of the fact that old school country sucks too.

So that's what my ears heard. You be the judge. Don't stop til you get enough.


Next week, we'll try to figure out what he's saying in the chorus of "Jam"
Prediction: Jam! Can't sham. Can't sham too much. Just JAM!

Stolen Toys for Tots

I recently received a nice letter in the comments section of a blog post.

Abbi-
So we haven't seen each other since forever but I still have fond memories of coming over to play barbies (one was always knocked up out of wedlock), a time in 3rd grade when you confessed you wanted to name your children Phyre and Stabronco, and your knack for nicknames like the funky apple (wasn't that your retainer?). I am procrastinating very big right now so I was reading and enjoying your website and decided to say hey. I'm in CT for 2 more months and might try to come see you perform and maybe send in a portrait, too! I hope you're well.
xxoo,
emily

I like hearing from people from my childhood, because I had a good one. Learning was still fun, Jell-O Pudding Pops (original recipe) were still in the freezer section, and my friends had the COOLEST toys. Toys I liked to play with and, when they weren't looking, take home.

Is it wrong when my friends were already spoiled? I was just ridding them of something they already forgot about. Except for one toy. There was one I blatantly took (not Emily's), and it is my Telltale Heart to this day. It was a Barbie computer.

The size of a golf ball, it had tiny buttons that all pressed down at once (because Barbie's fingers don't separate, so why should her keyboard?), and a monitor with green letters that appeared and disappeared as the black screen rolled over them. I still think it's more amazing than an actual computer.

"I like this. Can I have it?"
--No. It's my favorite toy. You can borrow my Barbie Record player. I'll take your butterfly brush.
(swapping)"Okay. It's for My Little Ponies. I REALLY wish I had the COMPUTER..."
--No. Let's go downstairs.

Where is it today? Buried in the basement of the house I grew up in, like a useless Flowbee. I'M SORRY! But that computer was a catalyst for many romantic Barbie moments. So was the record player. And so was anything else.

Hey Emily! I loved playing at your house. Girl Talk dared us to ask your neighbor for t.p. One time I had to go home before I made a signature scent w/ your do-it-yourself perfume kit, and I'm still bummed about it. And I supervised the conception of all Barbie's babies. Oh: the name was NOT Stabronco. Why would I say Stabronco? That's awful. It was Sibronco. Good luck w/ your work in CT. I'd love to see you again!


It's not cool, but it is refreshing: The Jell-O Pudding Pop Petition

Post Toasties

Maybe if people are Googling "a history of cornflakes" they'll stumble upon this blog and get HUNGRY for these upcoming shows. Like that? YESSSSS.

Without breaking a sweat, Luke and I will unleash the beast of our sketch talent at 80 minte abs! Then I'll put icing on the cake with my stellar stand-up. And come look at the other stars. High quality. Good. Very silky.


Continuing the theme of poking (fun at) the squishy bellies of America, we have an unforgettable sketch show that amazes me with its audacity. The room is always packed, the hosts are as original as they are committed to their craft, and the vibe is all enthusiasm. They're just about backlisted with sketch acts, so it's a sure bet you'll see some of New York's finest here:


And here, because you know how we do in my house:

Don't Cry For Me Argentina

I handed my championship belt over to the talented Julian McCullough last night.

Catch him at The Comedy Cellar, or competing again next week at Caroline's. Experience the excitement of March Comedy Madness, as advertised on Shecky Magazine! Although I won't be a part of the further festivities, it is a guaranteed good time. Josh Filipowski did an excellent job of organizing it, and together with Caroline's own Bryan Kennedy, they have drawn the attention of the MSG network! Click here under "Recently Featured on MSG, NY" for a clip of the madness!

I did my best, Mick. I gave 'em the old one-two combination with dog jokes at the end. I mean, are there dogs in this city or what? HAHAHA! You feel me. Thank you to my friends and family for coming out or sending supportive e-mails. None of that is as appreciated as money, but you do what you can.

New and Improved!

I like to watch infomercials and guess how the product will fail for the person who buys it. What are they not telling us? Some holes are obvious, like an egg-slicer. One minute into watching it work reminds you a knife is easier to use and clean. But some are harder to figure out, like The Magic Bullet. “In one…two…three…easy seconds you can have fresh salsa! Serve it from the bowl used to chop. Put another bowl on The Magic Bullet, and in one…two…three…easy…really…quick…seconds you can have banana puree!” Sure, there’s the obvious: it takes longer to work than the actors suggest. Here’s what they all ignore: if you make a meal in the five-minute demo time, all of your banana puree will taste like garlic and onions. On the infomercial, they never rinse the blade in between!

Here are my questions:
Why aren’t you cleaning the blender in front of me? Maybe it is deadly to the touch. I like how you remind me that it’s dishwasher safe, but now I have to make dinner in three wash and rinse cycles. Looks like the guacamole is gonna take a few hours, kids!
Who needs banana puree? If I’m in the store buying ripe bananas, I might as well reach for the Gerber.
What’s with the name? The Magic Bullet takes historical conspiracy lemons and makes lemonade! In three easy seconds!

The funny thing is they actually have a page of FAQs. Forget about the answers they provide that all end in “…following these instructions, it’s a snap!” The questions themselves are indication enough that the product doth stink--especially if they are asked frequently.

I hold all infomercials to the Ronco Electric Food Dehydrator standard. The product that ensorcelled me as a kid and taught me how to finally save money on all that beef jerky I buy weekly. What’s your favorite? My friend A.L. writes:

I always like the one about knives. They always have a stereotypical Caucasian house wife, smiling like Vanna White brandishing the sharpest knives of all time, cutting ‘tomato cans as easily as a tomato’ and I think a) why would she need knives that sharp? b) this is the reason why serial killers only exist in the US and c) why did Uma Thurman have to go to Japan to have her Samurai Sword hand made, when she could have gotten a whole set for only 3 easy payments of $19.99?

Pinch Me--I'm Clueless

What’s all the hubitty-ub-bub about St. Patrick’s day, folks? Once I spent an entire recess period scouring the field for four-leaf clovers, and I invited a girl to keep me company. She found a winner and proceeded to have good luck for the rest of the day. I resigned myself to playfully chasing people who forgot to wear green. Then I turned eleven and stopped caring. Now I just pinch people to cause pain.

Is it the tale of how Saint Patrick drove the snakes out of Ireland that keeps people insistent on celebrating? I feel no connection to that country via this Saint. I feel closer to the land when I picture a man cutting a bar of green soap with a knife. It proceeds to froth and cover the man in bubbles while still fully clothed. That’s the luck o’ the Irish: they get to play with magic soap over rolling green hills and eat cereal with marshmallows all day.

Maybe I don’t enjoy the holiday because I don’t drink beer by the pint. I savor it in sips--smacking my lips, saying, “Ahhhhh!” and then testing its effect on my balance by wobbling from side to side. Sometimes I snake my head like Axl Rose and get sleepy eyes. Usually by the third sip.

When I found out part of my family is descended from Ireland, I earnestly picked up Angela’s Ashes and prepared to relate. But short of one shared experience (Frank McCourt used to lick the grease off of newspaper from fish and chips, and I eat the cheese off of my McGriddle wrapper) I can’t say the grief and struggle resonates with me.

I want in the club. I want to know what makes people get goofy about the holiday. I want to swear and sing and get kicked out of a bar. But most importantly I want to find a four leaf clover, and maybe that girl’s hair will fall out.

Eye of the Tiger

Last night I went toe to toe with a worthy opponent, the amazing and always hilarious Vince Averill.

I was victorious. Tigers were roaring when the crowd yelled, "Finish him!!" and I pulled his heart out on stage. It beat five times before it burst into flames.
What other amazing and heroic feats will I attempt next Tuesday? Come to Caroline’s to find out in Round 2 of the March Comedy Madness competition!
32 comedians get 2 minutes each.
Call 212-757-4100 to make reservations.
Cost: $5 + 2 drinks if you mention my name.

Virginia Monologues

I for one do NOT support these teens who got suspended for being insubordinate, and I am quite distressed about an America that is so quick to pat them on the back. At a recent talent show, they weren't allowed to mention a certain private part that may or may not exist on the female body.

There is a reason we don’t talk about such matters in public, and that reason is that no one likes a show-off. If they want to brag about knowing where babies come from they should just change the name to the Stork Monologues so we’re all in the loop. Don’t use confusing and vulgar vernacular that has not been approved by Webster’s Dictionary. And don’t tell me censorship is why my mama ripped that page out, because I know good and well that 582 is an unlucky number and probably missing from most novels. You know what happens on p. 582 of the Grapes of Wrath? They all die!

Bravo to the principal! Teachers are the appointed brain-molders, and they have a reputation to uphold. When I was a kid you know what we couldn't say on stage? Sandwich. Because the cafeteria didn't serve them, and the administration thought it might turn kids off of the daily chicken fried steak.

Don't these girls understand the art of suggestion? At least Prince had the dignity to use a guitar handle. Their choice to use the anatomical slur is backwards. Ladies, if you’re above euphemisms, why don’t you just describe it by its physicality like, “that area I am sure is somewhere below my belly button but above my knees that includes but is not limited to my bladder”.

I mean what's next? Monologues about wacky tabacky?

Double Take

I just saw two people together in the office that I always thought were the same person. Apparently, for an entire year I would see them both daily, although always separately, and I never put together that they’re not the same guy. It boggles the mind. I am aware that the odds of two people choosing to wear plain shirts AND a short haircut is as good as getting a paper jam from breathing on the copy machine, but just how universal is the chiseled Abercrombie jaw? And who else is rocking the Flintstone five o’clock shadow like they’re running a detective agency with Maddie Hayes? Now that I see these guys together I notice one is several inches shorter than the other, and the short one sometimes wears glasses. Clearly Clark Kent would never get by me! Unfortunately, I would accuse everyone at the Daily Planet of being Superman.

I'll just have to try to remember their names from now on.

Send In Your Art! No. 3

Maybe I should dispel some confusion about my call to the public. At the top right-hand column of my website you'll see that I offer a portrait exchange, with blog posts aptly titled, "Send In Your Art!" If you want a free portrait of yourself, I want to paint you! All you have to do is send a pic of your rendition of ME to: curlycomedy@yahoo.com. I am a very good painter (despite no published evidence of this claim), and more importantly, I am desperate for acknowledgement of my existence and affirmation that I matter. This year's venture is recognition via artwork. We shant revisit 2006's I'll Leave a Booger Under Your Couch project.

People, people, people. While I appreciate the pun, it is not sufficient to send in pictures of this man.


And no, I am not just jealous that he is the undefeated champion of the Frizz award.


Why would I be jealous? I taught him everything he knows. I put the funk in Garfunkle! HE'D never paint your portrait! He doesn't even know how to paint! He just knows how to sit on stools with bad posture. In 2003 we did a reunion concert in Central Park, and no one showed up! Not even him. A class act this guy.

DEADLINE IS AUGUST 1, 2007

I Should Have Taken the Silverware

R.I.P. blog about Woody Allen playing the clarinet at the Fancy Restaurant. It disappeared during publication and is unrecoverable. But it was funny. Look, five comments were made about it! Stay tuned if I ever decide to bring it back. Meanwhile, the above pic is from Dan in Texas when he went to see the man last year. By the way, I'm talking like Droopy Dog for added effect.

Take the Silverware

Tonight I am going to have dinner at a fancy restaurant. I checked out the sample menu to see what I should expect. Looks like I'd better have a burger before I go.

Appetizers

Tartare of Hamachi and Blue Fin Tuna, Tat Soi, Mizuna, Balsamic and Soy (You know, it HAS been a while since I’ve had food poisoning.)
Seared Hudson Valley Foie Gras, Roasted Mission Figs, Port Reduction (Can Hudson Valley compare to Hidden Valley? Skip it...I take figs in my Newtons and in no other fashion.)
Celeriac Remoulade Sea Scallop, a la Plancha (Speak English.)
Butternut Squash Velouté, Ragoût of Duck Prosciutto, Brussel Sprouts (Soup…simple enough, but the duck-ham? Spam is spam no matter how you dress it up.)
Salad Grècque (My Big Fat Greek Let-down. This is so tame! No intestine garnish?)

Entrée de Poisson

Alaskan Halibut Braised in its own Jus, Mousseline of Sunchokes, Sauce Duglère (I bathe in my own Jus just for the halibut. HIYOOOO! PS: Sunchokes got sunstroke sitting on a sunboat)
Roasted Maine Lobster "Américaine" Crushed Carrots, Truffled Basmati Rice (I hope “Américaine” means drenched in butter with a lemon wedge squeezed above it and hush puppies falling off the plate.)
Steamed Black Bass, Barigoule of Artichokes, Sauce Vièrge (I went to France and never heard of a Barigoule. I’ve heard of Bari Manilow, which is less than appetizing.)
Fresh Dover Sole from La Rochelle, Grilled or Sautéed (I take it this is the safe item that people fall back on when they don’t want sunchoke mousse. But what they don’t know is by "Fresh" they mean "served in the head of a goat.")

Entrée de Viande

Colorado Rack of Lamb, Confit of Lamb Shoulder, Tender Coco Beans (I ate his shoulders with some tender coco beans...fsfsfssfss!)
Grilled Veal T-Bone Steak, Grilled Zucchini, Japanese Eggplant, Tomato, Roasted Garlic (You had me at steak, my friend.)
Prime Aged Ribeye, Roasted Foie Gras, Giant Fries, Sauce Bercy (Excuse me, there's a smushed, fatty liver on my steak. Please have it removed before the lady sees it.)
Roasted Blue Foot Chicken Cèpes, Roasted Fingerling Potatoes (*Waking up from fainting* I'm sorry. You lost me at foot. Go on. *Waking up again* When you said Sep was a fungus, I flashed back to that horrifying Lamisil commercial with the goblin that lives under toenails.)

Check please!

Make the Grade

This is how I got into college.

Abbi Crutchfield
U.S. History pd. 3
10-7-98

1. The Articles of Confederation were written to unite the South. They were an attempt to keep slavery in the United States. But Mr. Johnson is the coolest teacher in the world.

2. Foreign relations problems for U.S. were getting goods from their dearly departed Britain, maintaining peace w/ the French, and covering finances after the Revolutionary War. With all of this going on the United States still realized that Mr. Johnson is forgiving and will not count this quiz as important because he is the coolest teacher.

3. The Northwest Ordinance of 1787 was written (and or signed) by George Washington. It was a document that stated all land West of the Appalachains belonged to the fuzzy pink monkeys that sing the alphabet backwards. Even though Mr. Johnson had not been born yet it was still forseen that he would one day (October 7, 1998 to be exact) be the coolest teacher in the world.

Thanks, George B., for discovering this in your archives. I'm gonna catch up on lost knowledge and watch National Treasure.

March Comedy Madness! 64 comedians. 1 champion.

This is the show you've been waiting to see me in!

Like2Laugh productions hooked up an awesome competition that we are totally allowed to fix! Audience decides who makes it to each round, so if I could get some love for the next couple of Tuesdays, I would appreciate it. Potential stalkers, I'll stay after and give you a lock of my hair. All other friends I haven't seen in a while, it will be good to catch up after the show!

March 13 (Tuesday) at 9:30 PM. at Caroline's on Broadway.

Get your brackets here:
Caroline's on Broadway (click on the club calendar, then click on march madness, then click on download tournament brackets!)

The Deal on tickets:
-For MY friends and family- $5 +2 drinks w/ mention of my name when making reservations 212-757-4100.

-All other tourists- Tickets $10 Per Show +2 drink min. All Accesss Pass to ALL 4 SHOWS $20! (2 drink min applies) For reservations please call 212-757-4100.
(Photo by Doug Jaeger)

Check me out in the promo video. I'm hard to see with all my fancy footwork, but follow the hair. AND I CAN DUNK!
March Comedy Madness - Ballin



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(Film by Josh Filipowski)