I took the day off. It’s a great feeling. Some of my best friends are in town today, and we’re gonna go out to lunch and I’m gonna show off my baby and all that kind of good shit. My wife’s home today too. It’s a real weekend during the week.
Last night, for my class, I wrote a skit about Winston Churchill working as a waitress at Hooters. I don’t know if it was particularly clever, but it was pretty funny I guess.
Whatever. I’m listening to Howard Stern right now and they’re interviewing a prostitute and a former virgin and talking all about his wacky issues with having sex (none of which involved an aversion to prostitutes, but some of which involved racism being required [he’s a black guy] for him to get a boner). Usually when I write this thing, the blog, that is, the only sounds are those of my neglected child screaming wildly in the background, today it’s an interview about hardons. It’s distracting. That’s all.
My friends are playing a big show tonight and I’m going to go. I’m excited, but I’m also a little apprehensive. I mean, this show is huge, and I hate being around that many people with no exit strategy. I don’t know, man…I’m not like agoraphobic or anything, it’s just kind of spooky to be in the middle of a big crowd. Usually, I spend so much time, you know, backstage, schmoozing with the important people, drinking champagne and eating beluga caviar out of less important people’s assholes while hookers dressed as mimes tie animal balloons with their own, separate, non-caviar-filled assholes that I’m just not used to the big teeming hordes anymore.
Well, whatever. I’m just gonna have to hang out backstage then. Besides, I’ve seen and played shows at this venue before. It’s one of the worst sounding places in the universe. Fine. It’s settled. I’m not watching any music. More caviar and balloon animals for me then. Good.
Okay, I really don’t know what’s going on here on the radio. Here’s what I can’t stand. I think that the staff on Howard Stern is usually pretty funny and right on, but I can’t stand prank phone calls. I mean, not just the dumb ones that they do on Howard Stern. All of em. I think the Jerky Boys are dumb. I think crank yankers was totally stupid, and I just generally don’t find the whole genre to be very funny. Oh, we used to do it when we were kids, for sure. They were almost never that funny either. In fact, what the fuck am I talking about? They were completely stupid. Except maybe one time, and even that wasn’t that amazing or anything. Prank phone calls are like the Jokes in Martin Lawrence’s stand up set. Even the best ones are just BARELY chuckle worthy.
Well, anyway, my friend Farth, back when he was still called Jon, did a ‘good’ one where a woman called his house on a misdial. Rather than say “hey, you got a wrong number” he went into this whole thing about how ‘janie’ or whoever the woman on the phone was asking for, wouldn’t come to the phone because she’s sick of your bullshit, and she thinks you’re a bitch, and don’t call here again. That was a pretty funny gag I thought, for a thirteen year old kid to come up with just out of nowhere. Anyway, that’s not really a prank call….it’s more of just ruining some other lady’s day for a while. Also, it’s not really THAT great. Okay, whatever. I’m suddenly writing an essay about how prank calls succeed or fail as a comedic paradigm? No thanks. This is almost as big a waste of time as listening to prank calls, or watching Martin Lawrence movies.
Here’s the other thing, I don’t like the fucking music that they play between songs on this show. I mean, is there really a reason for hearing anything by Alanis Morrisette? Under any fucking circumstances? Jesus. Look, I thought it was as funny as you when it came out that she’d been blowing uncle Joey from Full House in movie theaters, but uh, that’s where my love affair with anything coming out of Alanis Morrisette’s mouth ended. You know what else is funny? He played a comedian on that show, and I’ll bet you a lifetime supply of donuts and hair gel that if he had to go head to head against Stamos and Saget, his jokes would be the worst. And that’s against Stamos and Saget. That’s like Warwick Davis playing the role of an NBA center and then having to play Steve Buscemi in one on one. Buscemi sucks at basketball, you can bet your dick. But Warwick Davis is way worse. How can I be so sure? He’s British. (if this isn’t immediately funny to you, you should probably image google Warwick Davis…just, you know, so you can get the full brutal force of the joke).
Okay, I’m going to go enjoy my day off. You can all go to hell. See you tomorrow.