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God, I love Rosemarie DeWitt.
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AN ACTUAL CONVERSATION
This e-mail strain occurred this morning—2/22/2012—among the members of my improv group.
It began with the question of enrolling in a class.
Mike, 10:54am: “I spy Joe W****** has a 401 starting Tuesday night march 6 from 7-10. Too soon? Dunno if that works for anyone, I wouldn’t be able to sign up til Friday (payday) anyway.”
Rob, 10:57am: “Works for me.”
Janet, 11:00am: “I’m in”
Rob, 11:15am: “So, should we wait til Friday? Goddamn, I wish there was a way to just tell them, ‘hey, six of us want to sign up for this class’.”
Sean, 11:16am: “Im in also! This will be awesome.”
Rob, 11:40am: “Oh no! Word is spreading in our class about Joe’s 401! Somebody’s already signed up!”
Sean, 11:40am: “So should we start signing up?”
Janet, 11:44am: “Let’s do it!!!!”
Rob, 11:45am: “Mike, can you swing it? Also, someone should call Joe and Chris.”
Sean, 11:47am: “Ok im going to register for it right now. W******, tuesdays 7-10”
Rob, 11:48am: “Fuck! Ok, let’s do it! But someone’s gotta get a hold of the guys on this list who apparently have a life!”
Janet, 11:48am: “Mike, I can put it on my cc….”
Janet, 11:49am: “I’m registered!!”
Rob, 11:49am: “It says there’s only five slots remaining!”
Rob, 11:51am: “I’m registered.”
Chris, 11:55am: “I’ll sign up if you guys are. Who has signed up so far??”
Sean, 11:57am: “I just signed myself and Joe up. So we are in.”
Chris, 11:57am: “Registered”
Janet, 11:57am: “Just sign up!!! We can always get a refund!!”
Janet, 11:57am: “Crap. Only one slot remaining. Pull out!! Pull out! That’s what she said.”
Rob, 11:59am: “I’m registered too!”
Rob, 11:59am: “We gotta get Mike in there! He’s the last one!”
Rob, 12:00pm: “I can put it on my credit card! I think.”
Sean, 12:02pm: “Is mike the only person who isnt registered?”
Janet, 12:04pm: “No Chris and Joe still aren’t”
Rob, 12:05pm: “Sean got Joe I think. And Chris said he was!”
Chris, 12:06pm: “Sorry, didn’t mean to be confusing. I AM REGISTERED!!! and also really excited about it”
Joe, 12:06pm: “This email strain was amazing to read aloud. I think we should do it as a play.”
Sean, 12:07pm: “I called joe and regstered him. i put him in my marsupial pouch like an KOALAAAAA”
Joe, 12:08pm: “What about mike?”
Rob, 12:09pm: “Someone call Mike and let’s put this to bed.”
Joe, 12:11pm: “I just texted him.”
Rob, 12:12pm: “Me too.”
Janet, 12:12pm: “Crap you guys that was confusing. I thought all of you weren’t signed up yet so when mike texted me I said forget about it. I’ll call him”
Janet, 12:13pm: “His phone is off!!!”
Rob, 12:14pm: “Does anyone know his address?! I’ll just put him on my CC.”
Janet, 12:20pm: “Just signed him up!!! Under my addresss haha”
Janet, 12:21pm: “So we’re all in then right??”
Rob, 12:21pm: [PICTURE OF THE BABY FROM ‘DINOSAURS’]
Janet, 12:20pm: “HE’S IN!!!”
Mike, 12:26pm: “Thanks Janet the mother hen!!!”
Janet, 12:29pm: “Oh my goodness. That was exhausting. All from my cell phone at work, lol. Ok, going to start working”
Rob, 12:31pm: “Amazing. Great work Janet!”
Sean, 12:42pm: “I love all of this! Now all Janet needs to do is bring Capri sun to us after our show this saturday and she’s officially team mom!”
Joe, 1:03pm: “i love us.”
Janet, 1:27pm: “Great. I told Justin I don’t want kids. What have I done??!!!”
Joe, 1:45pm: “Is this part of the same email thread???”
Mike, 2:12pm: “Justin Is the dad I never had! let’s go to a ballgame!”
Rob, 2:14pm: “Who the fuck is Justin?”
Joe, 2:35pm: “I just posted all of this on my blog”
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safe house draft
INT. SAFE HOUSE - NIGHT
MATT WESTON and CATHARINE LINKLATER watch through a two-way mirror as FEDS interrogate TOBIN FROST.
MATT
OK. I got it from here.
CATHARINE
You’ve ‘got it’?
MATT
Yeah. I’m in charge around here so…
CATHARINE
Do you have any idea who that is?
MATT
(looks at file)
Says here it’s Tobin Frost.
CATHARINE
That’s right. That’s who that is. That…is Tobin Frost.
MATT
Great. So is that everything?
CATHARINE
Do you have any idea who this is?
MATT
Tobin Frost.
CATHARINE
Maybe. Maybe it’s one of the hundred Tobin Frosts.
MATT
What?
CATHARINE
Because he’s a hundred spies rolled into one.
MATT
Well, that’s fine, but—
CATHARINE
Do you think those cuffs are gonna hold him?
MATT
Yeah.
CATHARINE
Do you think this cell is gonna hold him?
MATT
Yeah.
CATHARINE
Do you think this safe house is gonna hold him?
MATT
Yeah.
CATHARINE
Well you’re wrong!
MATT
Easy, Ms. Linklater.
CATHARINE
Don’t ‘easy Ms. Linklater’ me. As long as he is in this safe house none of us are safe.
MATT
None of us are safe?
CATHARINE
Not one of us.
MATT
In the safe house.
CATHARINE
He’s a hundred spies—
MATT
Yeah, a hundred spies in one. I remember.
CATHARINE
He’s just toying with us. He’s in the toy room. And we are all his toys. That he’s playing with. And then he can just throw us back in the toy box when he’s done.
MATT
I really think that—
CATHARINE
Listen Weston! This guy is the best the CIA has to offer. He’s a master at hand-to-hand combat and psychological terrorism. He will punch your face and fuck your wife. That’s Tobin Frost’s style.
MATT
Well, the whole place is on lock down, so—
CATHARINE
You think he’s just got one brain? He doesn’t just have one brain. He has two brains. In fact, he has three brains. He’s got his brain. And your brain. And my brain. He’s doing the thinking for all of us.
MATT
With all due respect, Ms. Link—
CATHARINE
He will get in your head. He’s probably in your head. Been around your head, looked around, didn’t like what he saw and then walked right back out again and you didn’t even notice and he’s gonna go browse a few other heads.
MATT
I actually haven’t met Mr. Frost yet—
CATHARINE
Yeah, I bet he’s got camp set up in your head. A campfire. A tent. A sleeping bag. Maybe a guitar. Some marshmellows fit for roasting. And he can just come and go as he pleases.
MATT
I don’t think there’s a campfire in my brain—
CATHARINE
Don’t be naive! You probably didn’t even say that. Tobin Frost probably said that for you because now he’s in your brain. He’s roasting marshmallows at the campfire in your brain and you are Tobin Frost!
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just working on my next project guys
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adulthoodlum.
I say I don’t feel 31. Or I joke about being 31 but not really being 31. Usually I do this on Twitter. And when I make jokes about the things that really affect me on Twitter, it’s like I’m making a joke of a joke of a joke of the Holocaust. Or something.
Because see I do feel 31. Mostly when I’m around people that aren’t 31.
And all this resonates with me like a cannon ball shot into an aluminum can. So I don’t act like I’m 31. And this is often referred to as “arrested development.”
In our media-based culture information is unfiltered by time lapse—it’s instantaneous and constant. Therefore, current events are no longer events and so elicit our most ingenuine responses. Even though we hear all the stories within the stories that wouldn’t usually have a voice we can only reflect on the degree to which we’re affected, however great or small.
It occurs to me that as an adult in this day-and-age I don’t have the luxury of cynicism. When I was a teenager (or a twentysomething) there was perhaps enough distance between me and my inheritance of the world that I could brush it all off and say “Don’t fuck up the world for me, man.” But now the torch has already been passed and, truth be told, I was so self-obsessed with my age that I missed it completely.
Now I’ve woken up to the realization that the world is mine and some idealistic punk is brushing it all off and saying to me “Don’t fuck up the world for me, man.” And because it’s mine I no longer have the luxury of idealism either. Because the reality is I’m not going to drop everything and get in my Honda Civic and drive down to the Gulf of Mexico to clean oil out of bird feathers, nor can I cut a check to a relief fund that’ll be in any way enough to help some poor Haitian surrounded by rubble rebuild that rubble into his home. Shit, I can’t even donate to my public radio affiliate.
Maybe all that is reconciliation, or maybe it’s wisdom. I don’t know. All I’ve been able to do for myself at 31 is disguise 31 as a joke in a tweet and hope for a retweet.
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BJORK’S GROCERY LIST
CIANIDE
OLIVES
PARSNIPS
GATORADE
PUDDING
ALFALFA SPROUTS
GRIEVING
TYLONOL
PRETTY
SORROW
2% MILK
FIREFLIES
SANDWICH FIXINS
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PILOT SEASON BRAINSTORM SESH
— “Season 1 of Weeds meets Season 2 of Weeds”
— The Wire w/ live cats (e.g. Lt. Daniels is a panther!)
— ????
procedural drama starring Eva Longoria and Mariska Hargitay as younger and older Marie Curie(s) who travel through time solving time-based crimes
— Les Miserables: The Series
— The Real Housewives of My House
Survivor: Iraq
Survivor: Detroit
Survivor: Auschwitz
Survivor: Adam Duritz
Survivor: Dragons
Survivor: Half Dragon Half Werewolf
Survivor: Pangea
Survivor: Insane Clown Posse
Survivor: Condensed Space/Particle Accelerator
Survivor: Survivor: Survivor:
— Law & Order: The Set of Law & Order
A Night At UCB Improv: The Show— “Garage Band of Half-Brothers” (written by Seth Rogen)
— Law & Order: Special Victims Unit Unit
— “Kidnap a kid and get away with it!” a game show-type show
— The Harry Connick Jr. Show
— Les Miserables: The Animated Series
— PUNK’D-style show wherein a team of talented muggers mugs Ashton Kutcher each week
— “Twitter & Mindy” a sitcom about a quirky space alien (@RobDelaney) and a seemingly average girl-next-door (@IamEnidColeslaw) with a SEXY SECRET
— CSI: MIAMI 2: CSI: MIAMIER
— 2 words: Wayne Brady’s Black Cock
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A STORY MY SISTER WAS TELLING ME YESTERDAY
To say my four year-old niece Lili is precocious means you might as well refer to LeBron James as a “ball player”. In the mix she consistently makes grown girls look like grown girls, which is to say “the team is the team”, but when it’s time for a fast break down court she’ll go ahead and take a steaming dump right on top of Cleveland, OH if she thinks she has to win a championship before she’s too old for a career in the sport — “Lili gotta do what Lili gotta do.”
Sorry to mix metaphors but I guess what I’m saying is: Lili transcends the game.
Anyway my sister’s telling me this story on the phone the other day that on the day prior she sends Lili to daycare in polka-dot pants. Then that evening when she picks her up the teachers say that afternoon at nap time all the kids are in their cots except Lili who’s nowhere to be found. They hear her singing in the bathroom so they open the door to find her in front of the mirror in all her glory totally naked from the waist down.
“Lili? Are you OK?” they ask.
“I’m fine,” she says.
“Where are your pants? Did you have an accident?”
Lili nods.
One of the teachers find her pants and underwear crumpled on the floor in the corner, both items bone-dry and pee-free.
“Well these are dry, Lili. So let’s get your pants back on.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Lili thinks for a second, then says, “You know, I’m just not that into polka dots right now.”
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YOUR (MY) TOP TEN MUSIC ALBUMS OF ALL TIME
Basically in the grand scheme of things you gotta know how to make a top ten list of your favorite things of all time.
The hallmark of this is your TOP TEN ALBUMS OF ALL TIME. Now this is mostly for you stiffs who only read the Billboard Top 20 and spend your stupid days driving to “work” and sleeping with your “wives”.
Keep in mind that solo performance and/or stand-up comedy albums are not music. Country music is not music. Johnny Cash is not country music. And classical music is not music or Johnny Cash either so get with it.
Let’s get started.
First you gotta have a title. Consider for example:
Meh, Just Like Ten Albums That Pretty Much Changed My Life Er Whatever
or
Go Fuck Yourself
Secondly you gotta have the list so know a thing or two about music, asshole. Here are some guidelines.
1.) ESOTERIC
The first album on your list should be so obscure that nobody else in the world has ever heard of it.
A few tracks recorded with low quality in your cousin’s best friend’s garage in Cincinnati who worked at a video store with a guy who knew some people who used to hang out with a chick that blew a dude who worked the door at the club where The Black Keys started, and THAT guy played frisbee golf with a dude who played bass with “some guys who’re into some pretty fresh electroclash shit right now” is a pretty good start.
2.) RETRO
The second album is an album from like ten or twenty years ago that everyone thought was shitty but you like it and that’s what makes it awesome. Extra points if everyone still thinks this album is shitty.
Keep in mind that if you choose, like, Billy Joel or something then YOU are shitty.
3.) NEVERMIND
The third album on the list is Nirvana’s Nevermind. No exceptions.
RIP KURT
4.) PROSAIC
This album should be whichever band is on the most recent cover of Rolling Stone.
Extra points if you don’t have a subscription to Rolling Stone and/or use it to wipe your ass after you shit.
5.) CLASSIC
Find out what Dad used to listen to and think it’s stupid for like ten years. After ten years put it here and don’t give your dad any credit.
6.) GRAB BAG!
Grab Bag!
7.) DIVERSITY
This is rap. So get with the times otherwise peeps’ll think you’re racist.
8.) SUICIDE CLUB
The eighth album should’ve been recorded by someone who committed suicide. It’s also preferably “Unknown Pleasures” by Joy Division if you know what the hell is up.
FYI: Nirvana is taken.
FYI: Badfinger and Atomic Rooster are UNACCEPTABLE ALTERNATIVES.
9.) POSTERITY
This album helped you find sweet solace while everybody who mattered hated you in high school because you were a huge turd.
10.) KITSCH
An album of no relevance whatsoever.
The. End.
OK! So now that we’ve gotten through the nuts and bolts let’s see what a finished list might look like.
TEN (10) ALBUMS PS: STAY OUTTA MY ROOM, DAD, YOU ASSHOLE!
1.) “The Rest Is Collagen” - Wake Challenge Cup
2.) “Bad Moon Rising” - Sonic Youth
3.) “Nevermind” - Nirvana
4.) “The Suburbs” - Arcade Fire
5.) “I’ve Gotta Be Me” - Tony Bennett
6.) “Rubber Soul” - The Beatles
7.) “3 Feet High And Rising” - De La Soul
8.) “Unknown Pleasures” - Joy Division
9.) “Use Your Illusions II” - Guns ‘n Roses
10.) “Solitude/Solitaire” - Peter Cetara
And there you have it! An awesome top ten list of albums!
Once you’ve polished your own list up on a crumpled piece of legal paper you can light a Parliament, put that last Drag City Records sticker on the wheelwell of your aqua Vespa and go buy some bootleg copies of old Manowar records!
Don’t forget your jean jacket!
