Besides being fixtures on the hip hop scene, lil wayne and I have more in common that you (and I, before today) may realize. No, I'm not going to jail on Feb. 7th (for a whole year) on a weapons possession charge from 2007 after his concert at The Beacon Theatre, but I did see Pearl Jam perform at the Beacon that same summer. Looks like we'd have a lot to talk about:
1. We both have tattoos. Lil Wayne has "more than a hundred" of them that cover his entire body, including neck and face, and has stopped counting. I have two. A tiny fish on my ankle, and the Hebrew symbol for Bravery on my ribcage.
2. We both had something stab through our chests and miss puncturing our hearts by a centimeter. When nine year old Dwayne Carter was playing around with his mom's boyfriends 9mm handgun, he accidentally shot himself in the chest, and the bullet missed his heart by a mere centimeter. When I was just 2 years old, I was playing with my mom's sewing scissors, and took off running through my childhood home, fell on them, and they stabbed into my chest, missing my heart by a centimeter. I got one stitch, and lost a lot of goo from my cardiac sack (the sack of liquid that surrounds/insulates the heart). Lil wayne, did you lose a lot of goo also?
3. We are both 3 inches shorter than the average height of our respective gender. Lil Wayne is 5'6" with shoes on, which is 3 inches shorter than the average man-height of 5'9". And I am 5'1" (and have been since peaking at age 13), and stand 3 inches shorter than the average 5'4" woman.
4. We are both fans of SNL, and have been on the stage at 8H in 30 Rock. He was the musical guest for last season's opening show, and sang this sweet remix of Lollipop and Got Money, that I instantly purchased legally on itunes (you're welcome, Wayne) and still run to. I am going to be on SNL, and will meet at 30 Rock when I'm in the cast and he's doing a reunion musical guest spot after he's released from jail. How 'bout it, Lorne?
It's been a longtime battle royale of slang terms, East Coast vs West Coast, and everyday conversation can be confusing for a Seattle-lite trying to express that she is not only "down" with that, but thinks it's "tight" and is "stoked out of her mind." Why don't these people understand me?
The classic case of Soda v. Pop will continue to divide the nation, and diner patrons will be quickly singled out and scrutinized for their mis-use of the regional-appropriate beverage slang.
The weirdest one I've heard so far is that here in New England, they call sprinkles (think: ice-cream sundae slash cupcake topping) by an entire different name, that is the plural of MY DAD'S nickname in college: JIMMIES. Strange!
A creepy snack I have never tried but heard ordered at a deli in Little Italy is an Egg Cream. On the west coast, if you asked for this, someone would whip milk and egg lightly with a whisk and then watch in horror as you tried to eat it (Gaston!) but here, it's a mixture of chocolate syrup, milk and seltzer water. Mmmmmboy.
Now: let's talk about sandwiches, because I am hungry, and they have more nicknames than Richard Nixon (I don't know what that means but I like how it sounds).
On the west coast, it's just a sub sandwich, named after the underwater sea craft that our nation's finest use to spy on people.
Here in New York City, it can change even between the BOROUGHS, between Hero, Grinder and Hoagie. This is unsettling, because I often go to two or even three of them on the regular. But in the dirrrrty South, it's a straight up po'boy or in some small community that has a very intense cuisine blogger named Peggy, it's called a "Dagwood," but just among those 700 people. Do I smell an annexation?
Get a sharpie and open up your day-planners, because every Thursday evening at Belleville Lounge in Park Slope will feature hilarious comedians and storytellers, come check it!
The Belleville Bistro is this gorgeous French restaurant (think: the Balthazar of Brooklyn) and not only does it have the best brunch croissants, it has a back lounge slash performance space with a full bar, tapas menu, stage and sweet decor.
Come by any and every Thursday night for live storytelling and/or stand-up comedy, with hot and hilarious hosts...
EVERY THURSDAY NIGHT ON THE LUNAR CALENDAR!
7:30pm - 9ish and it's FREE
Belleville is at 330-332 5th Street (Corner of 5th Street and 5th Ave) Park Slope
FIRST + THIRD Thursdays:"The Third Wheel" Stand-up and Storytelling Hosted by Brendan Fitzgibbons and Jenna Brister
SECOND Thursday: "My Bad" (Embarrassing stories!) Hosted by Becky Flaum and I will be like an Andy Richter sidekick
FOURTH Thursday: "Fireside" Storytelling show Hosted by Ash Harrell and Jenna Brister (check out www.firesidestoriesnyc.com for updates and lineups also)
Post-show, a sweet N'awlins jazz band called Tin Pan Blues Band will take the stage and keep the jams going, and will be the soundtrack for all of the reminiscing, the "oh man that was a crazy story!" exclamations, the front-hugs, the phone number exchanges, and the "I'll just have one more." They are seriously amazing, and a fun way to keep the rave going into the night!
Check back for performer lineups on "the schedge of shows" tab on the upper right, but let's be honest it's probably already your homepage :) haha SIKE!
But really, the city's most hilarious and captivating performers have brought the pain and will continue to as we set up shop in Park Slope.
So bring your friends, colleagues, roommates, pet-sitters, therapists, family members, loved ones, amigos, ex-husbands, townspeople, and come join us for these sweet shows!
First show dates are: Thurs March 11th: "My Bad" Thurs March 25th: "Fireside" Thurs April 1st: "The Third Wheel" Thurs April 8th: "My Bad" Thurs April 15th: "The Third Wheel"
Good news guys, I'm going to be SNOWMOBILING my way to Olympic Glory this winter.
After some cut-throat "snow-machining" in the woods of New Hampshire at the Olympic pre-lims, looks like we'll be representing the U-S-of-A!
and by cut-throat, I mean doing donuts in a giant field and going super fast while power-laughing as we fly around the snow banks and cruise across the woods, past waterfalls that are frozen mid-flow. Then stopping for a photoshoot with our lumberjack guide, Rusty, and reminiscing about bear attacks and the perfect storm.
Best time ever. And it is called Sledventures! It's this old lodge run by former (or current... who really knows) members of the KGB, and is decorated with very large, furry bear skins that STILL HAVE THEIR HEADS, PAWS AND CLAWS!
There are a lot of weird winter sports that make no sense to me, but only because I have never tried them. Such as:
* Snowshoeing * Ice-Sculpting (non-chainsaw division. It exists!) * Sasquatch wrestling (if you don't understand the danger in this, watch Harry and the Henderson and just imagine what it would be like if Harry was not friendly and so family-oriented.) * Ice dancing * Ice fishing * Skeleton racing (not the kind that happens in graveyards after-hours) * Curling * Ice sailing (taking your sailboat over ice. Nice one.)
Hey, guys. I love the morning paper, because it A. gives me something to do on the commute if I forget to bring a book B. the horoscopes are always unorthodox and clearly written by a total whack-job land gypsy C. serves as a good napkin when I spill coffee on myself from that wicked curve just before going over the Brooklyn Bridge, and finally D. the insane ads and headlines make me laugh out loud. Or cringe. Or question news-media altogether.
But mostly just cringe, especially at the ads for things I never knew existed.
This little sidebar somehow made it into the AMNY paper this morning, and even though they only have 22 precious sheets to utilize with the most important, pertinent, newsworthy, and intelligent reporting, THIS little gem shows up to let us readers know that a mass murder MAY have mental problems, BUT IT IS NOT CERTAIN.
REALLY!?!? Come on! Of course anyone, even a 39 year-old Mr. Speight, who was employed as a SECURITY GUARD of all things, would admit that someone who has the bloodthirst to actually massacre a bunch of people is in fact harboring some MENTAL PROBLEMS. Wtf, reporter.
Good luck, Virginians. If they aren't certain this guy's got mental problems already, he'll be back on the streets shortly (living out his hallucination that he was kicked out of his sister's house) and they'll probably arm him with a security guard's rifle and badge.
When I saw this next ad, I choked on my Stumptown Coffee. The big red tales-from-the-crypt-font headline instantly made me think they want to help me with "dressing for my body type" or "what else can my new blender do?"
But then I looked closer.
But no, my friends. It's about figuring out if you are a man or a woman. And then once you know what you have, how to "work" it. Check this out:
And because when I started this website I secretly vowed to bring tricky advertisers to their knees (through prank-calling and public humiliation) I will call this "What you have and how to work it" hotline and find out what on earth this is, and will report back shortly. I'd do it now, but I don't want to freak out my precious colleagues with the follow-up questions I will undoubtedly have to ask.
And of course, after the androgynous person reads about how to solve their life's One Great Mystery, they can refer to the ad below it and get get CHILD CARE. Nice ad placement, weirdos. Keep the sexually confused ads on one page, they have enough problems.
An economical depression is sure to cause pesky crows feet to show up, from all that squinting at the light reflecting off of Lady Liberty's torch. Do you have naturally occurring wrinkles that tell the world, "Yes, I've seen war" or "Yes, movie theaters, I will take a discounted senior citizen ticket."
Come relieve stress, lose character and proof that you have ever laughed at the:
Before sunrise, I went to my future workplace and the home of all things hilarious: 30 Rockefeller Plaza, to run through the SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE Wall of Fame (AKA The Corridor of My Wildest Dreams) to scout out a desk at Studio 8H, and to chat with the hilarious, pumped-up cast of The Today Show about the Williamsburg International Film Festival that's going to be September 23-26th (with the new Knitting Factory as the main hub. Put it in your day planners! It's going to be amazing!)
But with WiTV I got the access pass to approach these sweet news-people, visit my the SNL stage (see "Go Time: Things to do while on earth" on the upper right) and got some sweet footage for you to enjoy and live it up with me!
As your faithful, nocturnal host at WiTV, I promise to: - play with every switchboard - side-hug every celebrity (front hug if appropriate and timely) - explore every sound stage, and deliver topical monologues - and take both of us to places we have never gone before = the inner-workings of NBC.
But first, a moment of reflection...
"The grand show is eternal. It's always sunrise somewhere." -John Muir
And that somewhere is 30 Rockefeller Center, that rolls camera before most humans on the eastern seaboard have even opened their eyes and turned on the TV to personally find out from Al Roker what the weather is in New York City, where you have a 25 year-old daughter who would love to be woken up at 7am Eastern time to hear that Beyonce is currently chatting with Matt Lauer, and it's raining there (I love you Madre!).
First encounter of the morning was with the Rev. Al Sharpton, talking shop on the Morning Joe show. Check it!
I wandered around the stage at THE TODAY SHOW, which is a marathon of a newscast with location changes, several sets, guests galore and an outdoor portion -with tourists waving posters- that they always do, no matter what the weather (except hurricanes? I'll ask Al.)
Right now I am screaming: MEREDITH!
After some interviews indoors, we all geared up for the cold. Eat your heart out, Paris Hilton. Check out my new BFFs:
Keeping it REAL with Al Roker and Ann Currey! Al was singing show-tunes all morning, while Ann was graceful & lovely.
Detective Matt Lauer and me, heading out into the elements!
Now this is important, and something I never imagined I would know from first hand experience, or need to say in boldface, but you should know that Meredith Vieira is the NICEST LADY EVER.I spent some time on set with her (and Valerie Bertinelli) chatting on the ivory couch, and taking buddy pics here before we went outside to chat with locals:
I heart her. I told her I'm a comedian, and she pulls me aside and goes "there's a lot of comedy that goes on around here. Trust me." So Mer and I are currently rehearsing our new sketch show, Roker the Joker.
At Lorne's command station, turning some dials and locking it up!:
JIIIIIMMMMMAAAAAAYYYYYYY!!! His Late Night studio is absolutely amazing. I liked watching Jimmy on SNL, because he was always laughing.
My feelings for Fallon turned from like-to-love when I saw Fever Pitch. If you haven't seen it, don't exhale and laugh at me (B!) but move it to the top of your netflix queue and immerse yourself in bo-sox love.
That's a wrap guys, that's a wrap. Nice work. Now for a sweet little power-nap on Jimmy's red velvet chairs before heading down to breakfast with Lorne.
All before 9am.
My magic morning brought to you by: WiTV. Check back for more live footage of me on Fallon's stage delivering the monologue, and setting up a set in Studio 8H!
"You can tell a lot from someone's eyes" -Lorne Michaels
Right now I am living in a city where it's commonplace for someone to get stabbed on the D-train over a dirty plastic seat, where "wrong place at the wrong time" means getting punched by a mentally insane hobo, and most altercations on the morning commute start with a wayward backpack hitting someone’s cup of coffee and a “oh no you did NOT just do that!"
That brings us to this installment of... What I’d Talk About If I Had My Own Talk Show:Oh yes they DID! Pet peeves, crimes and annoying things people do that are confusing.
This lady is very mad.
In each fun-fact-filled edition of "Oh no you didn't!" I'll highlight someone who has gotten a bad rap sheet for freaking out too much, for getting in a cat fight (Courtney Love and anyone) or orchestrating a dog fight (Vick), or for generally losing their mind (Busey). This is all in the name of justice, and finding out what they DIDN'T and DID do.
ROUND 1: CHARLES BARKLEY
Oh No He DIDN'T:
Spit on a little girl in the stands. (Oh no) he did not“get enough foam” in his mouth when he tried to spit on a heckler - missed - and his wayward saliva bomb landed on a young girl, at a game in NJ in ’93. Nice one. He was suspended, fined, ridiculed, tarred and feathered in Phoenix's public square.
Get nicknamed “Sir Charles,” for being aggressive and outspoken. Last I checked (AKA just now on dictionary dot com, the epitome of word genealogy), that title is a distinctive title of a knight or baronet (no), a title of respect for someone notable in ancient times (nope), a lord or gentleman (game over).
Go from Republican to Independent, just to run for Governor of Alabama. Charles announced that he’ll be running for Governor of Alabama in 2014, as an Independent candidate, he says it’s because: “Republicans and Democrats want to argue over stuff that's not important, like gay marriage or the war in Iraq or illegal immigration... When I run — if I run — we're going to talk about real issues like improving our schools, cleaning up our neighborhoods of drugs and crime and making Alabama a better place for all people.” Wow. So as long as there are zero gays, soldiers, or immigrants in Alabama, it should be a pretty smooth campaign.
Oh yes he DID:
Get called “fat” in high school. An assistant coach of Auburn University (where Barkley would end up) was scouting at his high school basketball game, and reported seeing “a fat guy who can play like the wind.” Umm, what? Nice recruiting trip feedback, weirdo. But honestly, this makes me like Charles, because this means that maybe once this pro athlete hesitated before annihilated a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Half Baked after losing the final match at the Washington State Women’s Tennis competition in 2002, and then took to the spoon to get over it. Reports say that Charles “struggled to control his weight” but continued to excel in basketball. Then clearly, the extra few pounds were a good thing, as it VERY OFTEN is in the world of professional athletics. And I bet the guy who called him fat in high school has some pretty bad karma. He deserves it for being a d-bag and calling a promising high school athlete a fatty.
Become friends with the young girl and her fam, and learned to calm down. He apologized, and developed a friendship with them, and gave them prizes, like tickets. He may have let her punch him once in the stomach, to get even. Not sure. But I’d like to think so. He said that this incident was his only regret, and that he learned that he needed to calm down.
Win an Emmy. He won for his role as a color commentator on basketball. No, Klan members, not that color. Charles was hired to liven up the commentating with fun sports jargon, jokes and strategy insights.
Refuse to father everyone’s children. In ’93 he got flack when he declared that sports figures should not be role models, and I completely agree. So did Dan Quayle. They are regular people with problems, faults, criminal backgrounds and personality disorders, who just have irregular sized quads and the ability to dunk from a standing position. Quayle said that Barkley’s “family values message” is important and that parents and teachers need to be role models themselves. Are those now the qualifications for parenting? Being good at something and having cameras on you? Yikes. He stated, "A million guys can dunk a basketball in jail; should they be role models?" Unless Mr. Barkley’s DNA is in your kid (if it is, then hello Maureen Blumhardt, and thank you for visiting my website), it’s up to you to make sure your children don’t drive drunk in Phoenix, spit on innocent bystanders, or make a cameo in Space Jam.
The NHK special on Storytelling in the city is airing this month. If you are in Japan, or have NewYorkWave, check it! Here's their website - I'm on the show listing page for this month. If you know Japanese, you will be able to read the posting below.
1月17日（日）午後6:30〜6:50 ニューヨークウエーブ 大人気！体験談告白イベント
Here I am at Southpaw in Park Slope, telling the story about my stint in an asian car gang while I was in highschool that won that week for "Busted."
Laws are like sausages, it is better to not see them being made. -Otto von Bismarck
Some factories are not visitor-friendly, and for good reason. Sausages, minced meat, knock-off purses and glue (RIP Black Beauty) are all made in places that most commoners would not be let in, guided around and offered free samples. For good reason: they are scary, probably dirty, and doing illegal things. This is NOT TRUE of the Magic Hat factory.
They have free samples, a fun-house tour, a sweet beagle-ish dog that lurks around the gift shop, and A PHOTO BOOTH!
So legit! I think if I was going to have a factory, I'd want it to make dark chocolate head statues. People could make a bust of their head, or even their pet's head or paw, and have it turned into a solid chocolate memory.
Pets would be tricky, with all the fur and dirt that their little paws pick up. But there would be a tour, taking people through all the steps of imprinting, mold-making, chocolate pouring and chilling.
I haven't sat on a Santa in many years. If you have a child and are considering letting him slash her participate in this tradition of asking mystical strangers for what we want (land gypsies, Ursula the sea witch, waitress at Rainforest Cafe) then you may want to do a background check of the "seasonal freelancers" at your local shopping mall. (Or if you are a child and somehow managed to google your way to my website, watch out for this coming down your chimney):
Honestly, WHAT PARENT would hand their adorable little girl over to this plastic clown santa doll NIGHTMARE for a photo op. Not worth it.
I can stop looking at the eyes and the cheek bones. HOW?
It should be easy to tell who is creepy just by looking at the Santa, and his wild, white mane and rosy-red cheeks and nose (horrifying).
But what if looks are deceiving? What if he looks like a sweet old guy who was probably in the Navy during WWI but didn't experience combat because he was a flute player and everyone wanted to keep him alive for morale purposes, like a little mascot or lucky charm, because he was cute and tiny and had a sweet little beard and could do the Charleston like an angel. WHAT THEN?
You would probably hand your child over without question, just because HE LOOKS more normal than the clownshow pictured above.
But don't be so trusting!Red velvet and white faux-fur lining is the perfect disguise.
