Small addendum to LA post: Also, while I find them delicious, there are too many avocados. And like Buster Keaton in a non-existent British sketch show about Parliament, it is dry as fuck. 

Small addendum to LA post:

Also, while I find them delicious, there are too many avocados.

And like Buster Keaton in a non-existent British sketch show about Parliament, it is dry as fuck. 

Los Angeles is pretty great. It is warm and sunny during the day and kind of cold at night. Not New York-in-winter-check-your-balls-to-make-sure-they’re-not-purple-cold, but cold enough for a jacket. People in your apartment building introduce themselves to you and expect you to care, which takes some getting used to because you see them again and they make eye contact with you and address you by name. It turns out this is not the worst thing to ever happen, and is actually kind of nice. Not get together-a-group-and-start-a-block-party-so-we-can-get-to-know-each-other nice, but nice nonetheless.   There are lots of people in those long slinky hats that I don’t think have a name. The kind that always look like they’re falling off and were lifted from a wardrobe box outside a White Stripes video shoot.  LA is home to a noticeably high concentration of neck tattoos. Maybe it’s just because I’m not used to driving yet, but there’s a ton of road rage. Last week, I casually shook my head at a lady who didn’t turn left in a decent sized break in traffic. When we both turned, she pulled up alongside me to call me a stupid asshole and I told her to choke on a cock. Seemed like we both enjoyed ourselves there.   There are marijuana dispensaries everywhere which is not personally appealing, but appears to make a world of difference for the TCH-inclined. I’ve yet to find the dispensary where they distribute the BMWs and dogs that everyone seems to have, but I’m still pretty new. Parts of Hollywood are sad, broken dream-y  and not wholly unlike Times Square. Sort of conceptually interesting, but practically unappealing. Delusion can be really fun to observe from a reasonable distance, so I appreciate that.  People are really excited to talk to you about what they’re working on, but there seems to be a whole lot more napping and taking of lengthy lunches than is accepted elsewhere. Which is pretty great, because you can throw a nickel and find really cheap and delicious tacos. I’ve depended on word of mouth recommendations up to this point, but I’ll probably engage the toss a nickel strategy soon as to not make a liar out of myself.  There is an Olympic-sized swimming pool in my neighborhood that I can swim in during the day. It’s outside and it’s February and, man, there is nothing wrong with that. Walking anywhere, even a few blocks, seems to elicit stares and confusion, but driving short distances feels like a lot of work. I still walk a lot. In fact, just this morning I was on my way back from a hike and just as I turned the corner back onto my street, a fat orange fell directly on top of my head. So there are also orange trees, and I’ll drive everywhere eventually, but I’m still adjusting. 

Los Angeles is pretty great. It is warm and sunny during the day and kind of cold at night. Not New York-in-winter-check-your-balls-to-make-sure-they’re-not-purple-cold, but cold enough for a jacket. People in your apartment building introduce themselves to you and expect you to care, which takes some getting used to because you see them again and they make eye contact with you and address you by name. It turns out this is not the worst thing to ever happen, and is actually kind of nice. Not get together-a-group-and-start-a-block-party-so-we-can-get-to-know-each-other nice, but nice nonetheless.  

There are lots of people in those long slinky hats that I don’t think have a name. The kind that always look like they’re falling off and were lifted from a wardrobe box outside a White Stripes video shoot. 

LA is home to a noticeably high concentration of neck tattoos.

Maybe it’s just because I’m not used to driving yet, but there’s a ton of road rage. Last week, I casually shook my head at a lady who didn’t turn left in a decent sized break in traffic. When we both turned, she pulled up alongside me to call me a stupid asshole and I told her to choke on a cock. Seemed like we both enjoyed ourselves there.  

There are marijuana dispensaries everywhere which is not personally appealing, but appears to make a world of difference for the TCH-inclined. I’ve yet to find the dispensary where they distribute the BMWs and dogs that everyone seems to have, but I’m still pretty new.

Parts of Hollywood are sad, broken dream-y  and not wholly unlike Times Square. Sort of conceptually interesting, but practically unappealing. Delusion can be really fun to observe from a reasonable distance, so I appreciate that. 

People are really excited to talk to you about what they’re working on, but there seems to be a whole lot more napping and taking of lengthy lunches than is accepted elsewhere. Which is pretty great, because you can throw a nickel and find really cheap and delicious tacos. I’ve depended on word of mouth recommendations up to this point, but I’ll probably engage the toss a nickel strategy soon as to not make a liar out of myself. 

There is an Olympic-sized swimming pool in my neighborhood that I can swim in during the day. It’s outside and it’s February and, man, there is nothing wrong with that.

Walking anywhere, even a few blocks, seems to elicit stares and confusion, but driving short distances feels like a lot of work. I still walk a lot. In fact, just this morning I was on my way back from a hike and just as I turned the corner back onto my street, a fat orange fell directly on top of my head.

So there are also orange trees, and I’ll drive everywhere eventually, but I’m still adjusting. 

My solo show is going up at UCB on Thursday 05/12 & Thursday 05/26 at 8PM. Both times I’m paired with Abbi Jacobson’s “Welcome To Camp”. Abbi and I took Becky Drysdale’s solo show class together last summer and I’m real excited to be paired up with her. Ninety minutes of funny and strange. Also, HOLY SHIT. Matt Mayer make-a nice postcard!

My solo show is going up at UCB on Thursday 05/12 & Thursday 05/26 at 8PM. Both times I’m paired with Abbi Jacobson’s “Welcome To Camp”.

Abbi and I took Becky Drysdale’s solo show class together last summer and I’m real excited to be paired up with her. Ninety minutes of funny and strange.

Also, HOLY SHIT. Matt Mayer make-a nice postcard!

healywu: Reblogged for Paul Welsh. sweetupndown: Well duh Theodore Roosevelt is more of a hard ass than 50 Cent. That man rode a Moose for gods sake.  He ended this speech by saying something like “Ladies and Gentleman, I don’t know if you fully understand that I have just been shot, but it takes more than that to kill a bull moose.” Ladies and Gentleman, I don’t know if you fully understand that everyone in modern history you’ve thought was cool is interesting bullshit in comparison. 

healywu:

Reblogged for Paul Welsh.

sweetupndown:

Well duh Theodore Roosevelt is more of a hard ass than 50 Cent.

That man rode a Moose for gods sake. 

He ended this speech by saying something like “Ladies and Gentleman, I don’t know if you fully understand that I have just been shot, but it takes more than that to kill a bull moose.”

Ladies and Gentleman, I don’t know if you fully understand that everyone in modern history you’ve thought was cool is interesting bullshit in comparison. 

Men In Paintings: A Day In The Crisp Family Hall of Portraits

This coming Thursday 03/10 at ~7PM, I’ll be putting up a Spank of the show “Men In Paintings: A Day in the Crisp Family Hall of Portraits”. It follows an asshole through his dead father’s estate in an attempt to wrest his family fortune away from their long-suffering, binge-eating reclusive caretaker. 

I think it should be great fun. This show has less facial hair, flight suits, and disembodied heads speaking from a wooden frames than the one in December did. But I think you’ll still like it and have a couple of nice laughs. 

Lots of unreasonably talented people contributed to this show: 

-Shannon O’Neill directed it

-Ari Scott took the photos

-Matt Mayer did the graphic design 

& 

-Pete Schultz did the video

If that doesn’t sell you, maybe the characters will? They are: 

-a mustached Italian creep who loves women that smoke

-a cranky old bastard on trial for murder

-a manic trustafarian half-wit with his eye on film school

&

-a fake mustache salesman who thinks everyone knows and loves him (and is wrong about both)

All of these misguided, terrible folks are assured to make you feel better about who you are as a person. And a boost to your own sense of superiority is certainly worth 30 minutes or so, you’ve paid

Hope to see you there.

stacydoeseverything:

i wish i was on this trip.

purns:

In North Carolina yesterday, Will Hines got naked, wrapped himself in a Snuggie, walked up to a random house, rang the doorbell, then streaked the poor homeowners’ front lawn. For some chicken.

#AmericaGethard

This is amazing. During the running portion, I kept thinking “get that chicken, please don’t fall down”.

caitlintime: abbijacobson: This is me when I was 10.  First summer at camp.  Boy, was I a charmer. I went to overnight camp for 12 summers—it was a huge influence in my life, and I’m so so very excited to put up this show.  All I know is that it will be fun, and that I’d love for you to be there! Tonight, it goes up!  Drum Roll Please: Welcome to CAMP! UCBNY, 6pm $5. http://newyork.ucbtheatre.com/shows/178 Abbi might be the best. We’re still tabulating the votes, but I expect Abbi to come out on top. The best creep around! This show will be funny!

caitlintime:

abbijacobson:

This is me when I was 10.  First summer at camp.  Boy, was I a charmer.

I went to overnight camp for 12 summers—it was a huge influence in my life, and I’m so so very excited to put up this show.  All I know is that it will be fun, and that I’d love for you to be there!

Tonight, it goes up!  Drum Roll Please:

Welcome to CAMP!

UCBNY, 6pm

$5.

http://newyork.ucbtheatre.com/shows/178

Abbi might be the best. We’re still tabulating the votes, but I expect Abbi to come out on top.

The best creep around! This show will be funny!

youareterribleiloveyou: Dear Cab Driver from Woodside with Five Asian Wives,  The gruff and taciturn cabbies that preceded you could never measure up to your brilliance; you knew exactly what to say when I was feeling rushed. I am truly blessed. It was as if, at the very moment when I needed it most, the whole force of the cosmos were summoned to my aid. That force was given a powerful voice in your stories of picking up oh so many whores underneath the Queensborough Bridge. I knew this, CDFWWFAW, was a singular moment in my life as soon as you told me you’d retire to an RV. Like a corpulent male Zooey Deschanel you enchanted me with stories of redeeming your childhood interest in geology by going to Seattle, to finally see that Volcano you think they might have there.   But, CDFWWFAW, the great Fantasia of my emotions laid still until you began to tell of your past as the “Horny Housewife Helper”. The tales of your hiding nude on a massage parlor fire escape and taking kickbacks from pimps in exchange for providing your dispatcher with willing hookers for his card game, why, you are the link between the magisteria - the real and the divine overlapping as Stephen Jay Gould believed they never could.  And as you walked me through the various “Asian mixes” you’d married and why the relationships fell apart, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was because you, like all the truly great, live among us but are not of us. If you were like the rest of us, how could you say things like “Asian women don’t care about money, but they know how to” then repeatedly put your fist in and out of one of the empty parts of your steering wheel while smiling and winking.  I understood what you were doing CDFWWFAW, but the depth of my understanding will remain as still as the water on a rural pond awaiting the mighty rock of your casual racism to send ripples anew across my inviting mind.  When we parted, you reminded me where I could get a happy ending, not realizing that this, sweet CDFWWFAW, was just the beginning. You are terrible, but I love you.  I’m going to try and write a love letter to something terrible everyday and I’ll be posting them at this other blog. I’ll try to keep them short. This one is about a giant cab driver who loved to marry happy ending masseurs and then divorce them for other happy ending masseurs. Follow if you like!

youareterribleiloveyou:

Dear Cab Driver from Woodside with Five Asian Wives, 

The gruff and taciturn cabbies that preceded you could never measure up to your brilliance; you knew exactly what to say when I was feeling rushed. I am truly blessed. It was as if, at the very moment when I needed it most, the whole force of the cosmos were summoned to my aid. That force was given a powerful voice in your stories of picking up oh so many whores underneath the Queensborough Bridge.

I knew this, CDFWWFAW, was a singular moment in my life as soon as you told me you’d retire to an RV. Like a corpulent male Zooey Deschanel you enchanted me with stories of redeeming your childhood interest in geology by going to Seattle, to finally see that Volcano you think they might have there.  

But, CDFWWFAW, the great Fantasia of my emotions laid still until you began to tell of your past as the “Horny Housewife Helper”. The tales of your hiding nude on a massage parlor fire escape and taking kickbacks from pimps in exchange for providing your dispatcher with willing hookers for his card game, why, you are the link between the magisteria - the real and the divine overlapping as Stephen Jay Gould believed they never could. 

And as you walked me through the various “Asian mixes” you’d married and why the relationships fell apart, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was because you, like all the truly great, live among us but are not of us. If you were like the rest of us, how could you say things like “Asian women don’t care about money, but they know how to” then repeatedly put your fist in and out of one of the empty parts of your steering wheel while smiling and winking. 

I understood what you were doing CDFWWFAW, but the depth of my understanding will remain as still as the water on a rural pond awaiting the mighty rock of your casual racism to send ripples anew across my inviting mind. 

When we parted, you reminded me where I could get a happy ending, not realizing that this, sweet CDFWWFAW, was just the beginning.

You are terrible, but I love you. 

I’m going to try and write a love letter to something terrible everyday and I’ll be posting them at this other blog. I’ll try to keep them short. This one is about a giant cab driver who loved to marry happy ending masseurs and then divorce them for other happy ending masseurs.

Follow if you like!

obamarama: To human ears, it appeared as if only silence came from the woman’s open mouth. But the dog… he could hear it.  Oh my, yes he could. Yo, the skin of this lady’s tits is bonkers.

obamarama:

To human ears, it appeared as if only silence came from the woman’s open mouth.

But the dog… he could hear it.  Oh my, yes he could.

Yo, the skin of this lady’s tits is bonkers.

Thank you to everyone who came to UCB last Thursday to see this show. In all honesty, I’m not sure what exactly I did to deserve the extraordinary kindness and encouragement of the many wonderful people in the UCB community. It’s nice to be reminded of how lucky you are every once in a while. To be surrounded by a cadre of legitimate geniuses who can create things that other people can’t conceive of - from literally nothing. My effusion springs less from amazement at the creative process in general, and more from the creative energy and potential in the UCB community, specifically. This show will be up again soon (February?) and I can’t wait to show it to you. In the interim, I’ll try to post more appropriate/less excited things like homeless people frenching each other in downtown Cafe Metro’s, stories of people living inside giant sandwiches, and feeders/gainers. Or whatever.

Thank you to everyone who came to UCB last Thursday to see this show.

In all honesty, I’m not sure what exactly I did to deserve the extraordinary kindness and encouragement of the many wonderful people in the UCB community. It’s nice to be reminded of how lucky you are every once in a while. To be surrounded by a cadre of legitimate geniuses who can create things that other people can’t conceive of - from literally nothing. My effusion springs less from amazement at the creative process in general, and more from the creative energy and potential in the UCB community, specifically.

This show will be up again soon (February?) and I can’t wait to show it to you.

In the interim, I’ll try to post more appropriate/less excited things like homeless people frenching each other in downtown Cafe Metro’s, stories of people living inside giant sandwiches, and feeders/gainers. Or whatever.

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