Tuesday, May 26, 2009

This is hardly timely, In Fact It Might Be Dated

It just occurred to me that Michael Moore is the New York Yankees of liberals. He's rich, resides in NY, and is hated by many Americans. But they most resemble each other in the way theyt don't want to develop a farm team. Sure Michael Moore dabbled in a farm team president when he backed Ralph Nader in for the 2000 election. After Nader was blown out by the Republicans and Democrats Michael Moore jumped traded his contender for a high priced free agent in John Kerry. Again Moore's team lost, and so he went out and helped raise money for the Democrats. The party spent more money than any other team in the history of American politics. Sure Michael Moore got himself a win, and the Yankees might actually win a championship this season, but I don't know that either will have a dynasty anytime soon.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

In Sports/Revolution

It appears that the Tamil Tigers have finally been defeated by the Sri Lanka Armed Forces in a match that went into overtime for 25 years. The game was deadlocked for 24 years and several months until Sri Lanka subbed in a new Prime Minister. That's when the momentum began to swing in favor of the Sri Lanka Armed Forces. The capitan of the Tamil tigers is sorry to see a one in the loss column, but is happy it's finally over. He's looking to get some much needed rest and gear up for their match against the Montville Township Mustangs. Odds makers favor the Tigers 22-1 over the Mustangs who have no professional experience. And no one in the sports world sees this one going into extra innings.

Monday, May 18, 2009

The Betrayl

Saturday I headed up to Connecticut to help celebrate my first cousin’s once removed 1st birthday. Some suggested I write about my 1st cousins' (never removed) drunken, karaoke shenanigans at the party. However, that suggestion was made prior to my own sober, karaoke spectacle. Since I don't know what humiliating, digital video lay in the wings (if any) I'll refrain from commenting on that part of Saturday. At least until I can remember the witty and caustic comments I made at the table while my cousins were singing. It seems my family is trained in the arts of FBI interrogation techniques. At some point at the after-party Saturday night I was tricked into divulging my diet secret. I might as well share it with you now, seeing is it's out of the bag and who knows whom my aunt and uncle will sell my secret to. I figure publicizing the diet will decrease the amount of money they can get for it on the black market. I don't know exactly the order of events. But here is how my own family members betrayed me as best as I can remember. As we all sat in the living room of my cousin's house on very comfortable couches, me with a glass of wine in my hand. How that wine came into my possession I can't say, perhaps my cousin-in-law poured it for me in another room, perhaps there was no wine at all and the wine memory was planted there by family members after the interrogation to discredit me later. The Yankee's game was on the television, which I found strange as I remember listening to the same game earlier that day on the drive up to Connecticut. Did they tape the game and then replay it in hopes to disorient me? I can't say for sure. I did attempt to lure some of the family into wagers with me about the game, (as I was pretty certain of the out come varying plays and pitches) however, no one took the bait. They are sly. At some point in the night a voice asked me, "Well how do you stay so thin?" I answered cautiously trying not to reveal too much, "Poverty." Another voice challenged me, "Well, that's not necessarily true, they've found poverty can actually lead to obesity." And before I knew what happened I heard myself saying, "Yeah, but I'm smart and spend half my money on things like pricey grass fed beef and then just ration out a few bites a day." Dag nab it! They got it out of me. Someone. Urg! Foiled yet again by these rascally Italian-Jews.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

If I'm Going to Die Let Me Be Drunk

According to an NPR radio report there has been debate on how to interpret the data of a British Medical Study. The scientist studied the effects of wine as it relates to breast cancer. The first report said women drinking a glass of wine a day are 11% more likely to get cancer than those who abstained from drinking altogether. Later the data was reviewed and other scientist said this whole thing was misreported and that it really is just a 1% increase in a woman's chances for breast cancer.

My response to all of this is "Really?" We're worried about the effects of wine or chocolate on our health. Humans have been getting drunk since we were monkeys finding fermented fruit on the jungle ground. There are hormones in our drinking water, carbon monoxide in the air, crazy polyimers in the ground, and e. coli in our food; I say we might as well get our drink on now, because by the time we're doing our chemo-cocktails we won't have the strength to be drunk anymore.

Monday, May 11, 2009

Wednesday, May 06, 2009

"Rationalization is More Important Than Sex" -- The Big Chill



Many years ago I dated Jabba the Hut. OK that is not true. However, for the purposes of this blog the boy I did date many years ago will be refered to as Jabba not to protect the the boy but to protect me. It is far less embarasssing to admit to dating a movie star, however grotesque, than to admit to my actual choice. And that is the point of today's post.

Monday I was performing at an ill attended show on the East side of Manhattan. I had just completed my set when the very inebriated host took back the stage and annouced I slept with Jabba. Thankfully, the audience had no idea who the host was talking about, but my colleagues did. Oh the humilation. During the rest of the show I was whispering rationalizations and execuses to the other comics. "It was so many years ago. He was a lot thinner. And taller a good 5 inches taller, weird how a 30 something can shrink like that. I was going through a real tough time, I just got divorced I still wasn't off the heroin, coke, meth, and LSD." You know you've made a mistake when you've rather be known as a divorced recovering drug fiend (none of which is true) than admitting you dated Jabba. I continued, "And it was before he had that horrible accident that imparted irreprabable brain damage. Back when we were dating he was a totally different person, such a sweet personality, charming, not awkward or hateful at all. It's sad what happened to him after that accident. What? What was the accident? Uh...umm. He got caught in a subway door. He was holding up the train and a little old lady starting beating him with an umbrella in hopes he'd get out of the door. Because he was so much taller then the little all lady had to jump up to reach his head. The extra force of her coming down jarred his brain. I know so horrible."