Backwards Land

So now that I've spent a few weeks in my apartment, I've noticed a few weirdnesses about it. Many of them have to do with things being backwards. I'm scared.

To turn my oven off, you have to turn the knob to 375. Turning it to "OFF" makes it very very warm (probably about 375 degrees).

In my bathroom, cold water comes out of the "Hot" faucet and hot water comes out of "Cold."

My neighbor gets his mail in my mailbox, and I get mine from his.

The backyard is full of broken bicycles. That's not backwards or anything but it is really creepy.

But anyways, all those things and the fact that my floor is kind of slanted has led me to believe that my apartment was actually built by Doctor Seuss. It's the ONLY explanation that makes any sense.

Blue lines

I don't really have much to complain about anymore. I have an awesome job, lots of great friends and family, a cat with arguably the best pet name in the world, and a book about a tortoise and a hippo becoming best friends. I don't know why I constantly search out things to complain about. There's probably some phrase to expain why , something about lemons or green grass or cloud lining or Skeletor, but I can't remember it right now. Anyways, let's get to the point.

Every time I try to watch cable, there's these little blue lines all over the screen and it's really pissing me off. Only when I watch cable though! Not DVDs or Wiis or anything, just the cable! It's been bothering me for months. I got my cable hooked up at my new place today along with the internet, and AAAHH! Still the blue lines! I thought maybe they were staying in Sunset Park with my crock pot and crippling depression and everything else I'd forgotten there. I guess not (most of those things will eventually make their way to my new place as well).

Time Warner, being the incredibly helpful company they are, claim they've never seen it before and don't know what to do about it. The cable guy that was here today blamed it on closed captioning! What does that even mean?!? What a morally upstanding company this Time Warner is to BLAME THEIR PROBLEMS ON DEAF PEOPLE!!! Jesus.

Well, I don't watch TV that much anyways so it's not a big deal. In fact, the only reason I'm keeping it is to watch myself on TV come March 20 (11p.m. EST in FUSE, check your local listings [putting that in there was only halfway a joke]), so maybe the blue lines are a punishment for my rampant narcissism. But I've had 'em for six months! Golly!

Okay, I'm calming down now. I won't say "golly" again, sorry. I guess I should be happy that the blue lines are on my TV screen and not on my legs (must be tough, Grandma).

I think I really am gonna go buy LEGOs now.

Finally!

Well, my month of living in a cave is over. I now have the internet in my apartment! I know what's going on again!

So, Saddam died?!? That's crazy! And it's 2007 now!?!? Whoah.

So I've been thinking of buying LEGOs. Yeah, I know. That's a brand new level of dorkiness. I'm not really sure whether to embrace it or to seek professional help.

Well, there is a Toys 'R Us near the comic book store...

Back in the Internet Cafe

Yeah, I'm still a caveman, the Internet guys are supposed to come on Wednesday. Anyways, the brief L.A. trip was ridiculous! I saw Queen Latifah! And "Hurley" from "Lost" (sorry I don't know your real name dude)! And many more mildly exciting celebrities! We had a fun show at the UCB-LA, and that night Trevor and Sam and I raided our minibars and got really really drunk. We found ourselves standing on a bridge (this hotel was so nice it had a bridge) and considered jumping into the pool, but I knew we were really wasted when we started discussing making Star Wars Episode 8, only as a computer, not a movie (and yes, we know there's no episode 7; the plan was to make that computer later, just like George Lucas did). I don't really know what that means. I'm sorry. They had free Glenlivet.

Oh, and fellow Whitest Kid Zach twisted or sprained or somehow otherwise fucked up his ankle and had to limp through our show. We haven't had an injury-free show in a while; two years ago, I was getting cuts and bruises quite often, but now the other guys seem to be getting the brunt of the punishment.

One last boring L.A. story. We had to rent a car to get around since that damn city has never heard of "public transportation," and we had one of those talking GPS computers. We named it Chewie. The last night we were there, I was the designated driver, but this GPS thing was acting totally drunk! It used little arrows on a screen to point me in the right direction, but once the arrow was a circle! And another time it folded back onto itself! What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?!? You have failed us Chewie.

Lastly, I tasted the best hamburger in the world yesterday. I got it from...ME. Apparently, I can make a really sweet burger. That now makes two delicious meaty dishes I can make very well (the other one's chili).

Maybe Chewie could help me find some more things I can cook, because she (the voice was female) is shit with directions.

Hi there, I'm in L.A.!

So I still don't have the internet at my apartment, but right now I'm at the Ritz hotel in LA for two days, so internet, ho! Y'know, I'm in this hotel being pampered; free wine and great food, massages, an amazing view, and the guy that played "#2" in "Austin Powers" is here, but it really makes me think of all the people with nothing in the world who are starving, have no place to sleep, whose governments are murdering them...wait a second, my shrimp cocktail is here.

What was I saying? Hmm...nope, not coming to me. This is good shrimp though.

I'm getting the internet at my house soon...

I swear. Then I'll be able to put up blogs all the time again. Here's what I've been up to lately:

Eating lots of eggs and nachos. Not together, silly. That's gross.

I tried to order a taco from a place yesterday. I asked for "one #22" and instead they gave me a "#122," which apparently is a bunch of pieces of steak thrown on top of a bunch of french fries. I'm not eating that.

I slept near a model yesterday. That's the best I've done in a while.

Scotch doesn't do anything to me anymore. I seem to have built up an immunity.

I have a surgery game for the Nintendo Wii. Asking for that game for Christmas has so far been the single best decision I've ever made in my life (moving to NYC a distant second).

I think I'm gonna be doing some crazy open mic stand-up stuff this week. I want to keep doing standup and I haven't done any kind of performance that doesn't involve me singing terrible hair metal in a few weeks and I feel the urge. I'll be sure to let all you rabid fans know.

Ideas to write about later, when I'm not this hungover

1. My theory on why automatic sinks and hand-dryers are fascistic attempts to crush our freedom and will inevitably lead to a soulless dystopian military state.

2. My parent's dog's attempts to be friends with the neighbor's cat.

3. The inadequacies of South Dakotan karaoke (when you play regular music between karaoke, we can't sing as much dummy!).

4. Chili

5. How hungover I am.

Are hangovers worse here?

Okay so my last posting was a little acidic and mean and pretentious and I apologize. Gin makes a man mean. Even though I was drinking Coors Light. Whatever.

So my main buddy here in SD is Amber. Last night I went to a small town called Hayti, South Dakota to watch her and our friend Heather and some other people bowl. It was like a league game, and all of the other teams consisted of little old ladies. There's not much better than drinking a beer, eating some pizza (which was mysteriously really good) and watching little old ladies hobble up to the alley to "Sexy Back" and then throw a strike and go crazy. It was the best thing ever. I'll still be here for next week's game, and I hope to have the fan page up for Amber's team by then. They're called "Castlewood Farmer's Elevator," after their sponsor, but I think I'm gonna jazz it up and name them either "Pink Fire" or "The Fuck Offs." I think the little old ladies would dig the last one.

Also, there's a sign when entering Hayti that reads "375 friendly people live here!" It didn't say anywhere how many assholes lived there. I would feel sorry for them that they're not represented on the sign if they weren't such assholes.

But anyways, Hayti. Yeah. Thumbs up.

I also had an awkward run-in with a dude that I graduated high school with. We never really talked much in school; it's not that we were enemies or did anything bad to eachother, we just didn't really hang. Then last night I'm at this bar with a bunch of people and he's talking to another friend of mine, then comes over to where I'm sitting. I looked at him and said "Hey what's up" kind of quick-like because I was mid-conversation, and then he just grabbed the chair next to me and walked away. It was weird.

Holy shit that last paragraph was the most boring fucking thing I've ever written and I'm sorry I made you read that.

You win this round, Christmas Vacation

No, this is not about the Chevy Chase movie. Sorry.

So I began my Christmas "break" today, which consists of 9 (nine[NINE?!?!?]) days in South Dakota. I started it off with a plane ride from NYC to Minneapolis and I sat between 6 babies and a puppy. For reals. It was really fun. Yeah. Then in the Minneapolis airport I was at the gate to fly back to Watertown, SD (my hometown), and this African woman in full flowing African-style robes was at the gate. Now, being that I live in New York, I see this all the time, but all of the other people waiting for the South Dakota flight were staring at her. I didn't expect to have the "oh yeah, that's why I moved away" moment until I was acually IN South Dakota, but they apparently have turned it (racism) up a notch since last I visited.

Then I get to the bar with my good buddy Amber and more ridiculousness is awaiting me. This one kid that I've known for a while comes up to me and asks about the Whitest Kids TV show coming out soon. We talked about it for a bit, and then he asked me if he could be in the show if we did a second season. I told him that if he were around, maybe he could be an extra. His reply: "Nah, I don't need to do all that. I just wanna write and co-produce it." Naturally, I signed him on the spot.

Then this other totally wasted guy that I've never met before starts telling me about his novel. He tells me that it's basically about sex and drugs and drinking and all of his crazy adventures. I asked, "Okay, so kind of like Hunter S. Thompson or Jack Kerouac?" And he said "Dude, I am sooo much sicker than Hunter S. Thompson." And then he threw up, so maybe he was right.

Also, when he first mentioned that he was writing a novel he said that it was "a novel, but totally non-fiction." I'm not really sure what that means. To me, that's kind of like saying "it's like a carrot, but it's an apple."

That didn't make sense. Whatevs. So yeah. 8 more days. Let's do this!

Back to the SD

I actually wrote this like 15 hours ago, but couldn't put it up 'til now. Sorry.

Well I'm leaving civilization for 9 days to go see my family, who lives in South Dakota. Actually, they're pretty civilized there (they have an Arby's and apparently a Starbucks now), so never mind. My 12 year-old brother* asked my dad when "the Nintendo Wii is getting here," meaning me, but little does he know that I'm not bringing it! Ha! Take that! You're not even old enough to drive! But anyways, I'm not bringing it because he's getting a PS2 and I don't wanna show up Santa. Actually, he's 12, so it's probably just "my parents" now and not Santa. Whatevs. I still believe. Last night at karaoke I decided to do a little Santa-ing myself. I was handing out candy canes to certain singers, and by "certain" I mean "cute Asian girls." Certain readers of this blog that were not present totally missed out on free candy. Now, I know that makes me sound like a dirty old jolly elf, but I wasn't alone; Scollins and Eli were totally helping me "judge." Okay, this Internet Garage session is getting expensive, gotta go. I'll blog about South Dakota when I'm there. Here's a preview:

Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing NothingHappy Holidays!



*I thought about writing simply "my 12 year-old" just to freak people out.

Okay

So I'm at my old apartment, where they still have the internet (which is still in my name and I still am paying for, but let's not think about that), so let's party.

Well, I can still taste the weird fake barf. I have showered, brushed my teeth, and even eaten a White Chocolate Reese's peanut butter cup (don't bother, they're too crumbly), but it's still there. I have determined that my body was so overloaded by the hummus/salsa combo it consisted of that I can now only subsist on hummus and salsa. At the same time. In a Dixie Cup. If anyone knows of any good recipes consisting of hummus and salsa mixed together in a Dixie Cup, please let me know.

I've been re-watching the British "The Office" the last few days. It is of course hilarious, but it has also renewed my gladness at not working in an office anymore while simulatneously renewing my fear of having to go back to one some day. I also was very depressed by the fact that the character Gareth (a weaselly mean little pervert) has a more eventful love life than mine (there was one scene in one episode where he danced with one girl).

No "But aren't you a weaselly little pervert, Timmy?" comments. Please.

I bought my cat these bubbles. They're just like the bubbles you blew out of the little bottle when you were a kid/raver, but these bubbles contain cat nip. It makes her freak out. Cat owners take note.

It really freaks me out that I've only been living alone for a week and already the only things I have to write about are TV shows and my cat.
Oh, and this is my friend Jordan's music. Check it.

Well...

I still don't have my computer and internet set up, so these bloggings that approximately 22-37 of you love to read will be rather sparse for a bit. I've been too busy to get it all arranged. Yesterday was all about our Whitest Kids show, and this morning I had to stand on a stage and act drunk with a mouth full of fake vomit while Shandi danced around in a "Sexy Santa" suit. I know that sounds like some kind of crazy fever dream but it was real. Trust me.

Word to the wise: The last thing you should do after holding a bunch of fake vomit (made from hummus and salsa) in your mouth is eat Chinese food. My stomach is being a fucking asshole right now.

P.S. I leave town for NINE DAYS AT HOME WITH MY FAMILY on Tuesday. I'm doing this by choice. It should be action-packed, which means I'll probably post like 89070987 times over the holidays.

P.P.S. I posted a MySpace blog the other day, but the internet cafe's machines wouldn't let me post it here for some reason, so you're totally missing out. I think it was me bitching about dropping a couch on my foot.

Yeah, you're totally missing out.

I can still taste the fake barf.

I'm going to finish packing now.

Hold all my calls.

Hey I'm doing standup on Sunday at The Beauty Bar, on 14th betwixt 2nd and 3rd. 9pm. I heard that sometimes they have a bikini contest after the comedy show (seriously), so you should probably stop by.

More people should say "betwixt."

I AM LAZY

I AM LAZY

The movers (my buddy Abdel) will be here in 16 hours and I have done almost NOTHING. What is my problem? Why am I writing this right now?!?!? I should be PACKING. BAD TIMMY. Okay. I think I'm gonna go pack now.
Hey look, a thing to look at!

Dammit.

I had a pretty nerdy day the other day

On Tuesday I went to a movie by myself. It was "The Fountain," and yes it was extremely confusing. I liked it though. Then I went home and played video games about comics, and then next day was New Comic Book Day, so I went and bought a bunch of nerd shit and then I had to go pick up cables for my Nintendo Wii. As I was leaving I scoped out this place near Grand Street in Chinatown, this store that said "COMICS" above it in huge white letters. I thought maybe it was a new comic shop so I walked by. All I saw was a white room with a small man sitting at a desk.

So yeah, if anyone out there is looking for the center of the Matrix, it's near the Grand Street "D" train station in Manhattan.

That night I was watching "Clerks 2," a movie about nerds, and Sam calls me and tells me to report immediately to Williamsburg for a "Guitar Hero 2" tournament. I was eliminated first round even though I've beaten the song perfectly before. I blame it partially on nerves but mostly on the shitty wireless controller they had. I then had a 10-minute conversation about shitty wireless controllers. When I went home I didn't masturbate because let's face it, my night was nerdy enough.

So every single sentence I just wrote there was nerdy, except for this one, Batman.

Shit.

Can you make bombs out of deodorant?

I only ask because on my way to Rififi tonight I stopped into a store to buy some things that I thought I had quit (no, not porn, I would never quit that shit) and some dude there was buying one of each available brand of deodorant. Like 8 bars of it. Even as a smelly fat guy, I only ever have to buy one thing of deodorant at a time, so I had no idea what this guy was up to. I immediately ruled out "art" since I don't really believe in it, and he didn't seem like he was collecting deodorant, which I do believe in, so there was only one option left: terror. It seems to me that deodorant is one of those things that you can turn into an explosive, but maybe that's just because I watch "Fight Club" too much.
On the way home my cabbie was playing a lot of Sugar Ray music. I will never sing a karaoke song NOT by Sugar Ray again.




I hope to God you all understand that I was kidding about that Sugar Ray thing. I would never let Mark McGrath come between me and my friends.

Fragments of the last 24 hours

So last night the Whitest Kids played a show at Brandeis University in Waltham, Mass. Longtime readers* may remember that we went there on tour with Flogging Molly and ended up playing our own set after the rock concert, and the kids there liked it so much that they asked us back for a festival they were throwing. I was going to write a bunch of stuff about it, but just as I sat down, my mind was suddenly wiped because I sat through that crazy John Travolta Scientology-based movie "Battlefield Earth" in its entirety. It was so ridiculously boring that now I barely remember what happened to me in the last day. I do have a few recollections though, so here are the pieces I can remember:

-Playing our "Hitler Rap" music video to a primarily Jewish audience**.

-Winning back the audience's favor with a video about shit. Not everyone can laugh at genocide, but everyone laughs at poop.

-Going to a sweet party afterwards. It was your typical college party, with lots of booze, hot girls, their drunk boyfriends, and...an amazing cheese and vegetable spread?

-Watching Trevor bash open a bottle of wine on a brick wall and then drink it. He's totally leading the "Awesomest Whitest Kid" race right now.

-Sleeping in the warmest room I've even been in. It was at a kind of "faculty hotel" on campus that was normally reserved for rabbis, but somehow they decided to make a special exception for a bunch of drunk jerks. Anyways, it was so warm in there I had to sleep on the floor near the door so I could be cooled by the draft. I have a very ham-like quality about me and I was worried that I would be baked.

-Making ridiculous mix CDs with Trevor on the way home, containing hits like "Flagpole Sitta" and the "Benny Hill" theme.

Well that's all I can remember right now. Maybe more will come back after I watch an actual good movie.


*Yeah, right.
**We only played it because the festival organizers asked us to. We wouldn't just show a Hitler video at a Jewish school. We're not that stupid. I don't think.

P.S.

Tonight my compatriate Sam and I sang "Unforgiven" by Metallica at karaoke, and we decided to spice it up with what was meant to be a PG-13 strip dance. We both slowly worked down to only wearing our boxers and sneakers. Some girl, or rather, HARLOT, in the audience took it upon herself to spice things up too. She pinched our nipples, she grabbed Sammy's crotch, and then, in a moment of true despicable debauchery, PULLED DOWN MY UNDERPANTS. It only lasted for a split-second, but roughly 50-60 people saw my weiner, and probably only about 20 of them actually wanted to see it. Those 20 were all hot chicks, by the way. Anyways, this girl totally ruined the whole thing. We were just trying to have fun, and now we look like (bigger) perverts. Screw you lady. No, not like that. Quit touching our weiners. Go away.

Hey come here, I'm drunk

I got my hair cut today.

I drank a lot of scotch today.

I bought the books "Bill and Ted's Most Excellent Adventures Volume 1" and "Guerilla Warfare" by Che Guevara today.

I thought that was a really good combination of books to buy today.

I sang karaoke today.

I got mad because some kid sang my song today.

I didn't cry at all even though when I woke up this morning I thought that I might today.

I saw a man wearing a hat made out of a tiger's face today.

I lied about that "guy wearing a tiger's face hat" thing today.

I stooded

So last night I tried "Stand Up Comedy" for the first time ever. In the last few months I've done many panic-inducing things, such as asking a friend on a date, telling my parents that I used to do drugs, and going on stage in my underwear in front of 2000 people, but never have I been more panicked and nervous than I was last night. Holy shit. I thought I was gonna explode in barf. Which probably would have gotten more laughs than anything I did, but would have been gross. Actually I got a good amount of laughs, and I'm gonna do it again soon. My thanks to my friends that came out to support me, even though your presence only made me more terrified, and to fellow performer Baron Vaughn, who after my set told me "Most virgins bleed the first time, and there's no blood up there." That's pretty much one of the best/weirdest compliments I've ever received. Also thanks to my dearly departed grandparents, because the stories about them got the biggest laughs and an "Oh my God." So yeah, I was totally nervous but it was fun, and now I'm that much closer to a "Punchline"-style breakdown where I cry on stage in fron of everyone!