I Let My Fists Do The Talkin’

I’m auditioning to be a Daily Show correspondant on Tuesday

My Wife, the Ghost’s final episode

(it’s an mp4 so some people won’t be able to play it. Update your quicktime player if in doubt)

I went to the Channel 102 Panel last night… the first I’ve been to despite being a prime-timer 4 times over. Bill came too.

It went pretty fast for being 3 hours.

Most of them were pretty bad, but there weren’t any gut-wrenchingly terrible ones. I feel cheated really.

The absolute worst ones were guilty of being made by junior high school boys and being meta in an annoying way (and focused on channel 101, to boot).

I went down to DC last weekend for my parents’ ‘Welcome Back to DC” open house they threw for themselves. They seemed oddly interested in me coming down for it, despite the fact I was just down 6 weeks before. It’s a medium sized trip, NY-to-DC, and a hefty $200 ticket as well.

They moved back to DC after eight years in Manhattan/Connecticut for work. I grew up in DC but have practically no fond memories of it at all… it’s kind of a non-place. I think someone (Dan Goldstein, Erik Tanouye?) once mentioned he thought about doing a MD-DC-VA regional-prov show (like the Bostonian “Wicked Fuckin’ Queeyah”) since so many NY-based improvisers have roots there but there’s NO REGIONAL CHARACTERISTICS about this area. Even the dirtbags are just generic dirtbags. I think part of that is the majority of the population is from somewhere else or just “passing through” (like political/government workers, military folks, lobbyists). My parents are from California originally.

I’m uncomfortable at parties of my own peers, so my parents’ deal was par for the course. Less pressure, I suppose. At a certain point I just started bussing the dirty dishes and wine glasses to be useful. Most of the people I had met when I was in grade school and still don’t know what their names are. A lot of the men now have mustaches, I was surprised. Three people were now seeing people they met on the internet (one a widower, one a divorcee, and one perrenially single family friend who told my mother, “I bet you thought I was a lesbian all these years.”).

I was happy for them, though, since their complaint in New York is they had no friends to do things with and now they have a new-old social scene. It’s really hard to meet people in NY and doubly hard when all the people they WOULD hang out with are riding the MetroNorth home everyday when they’re staying in Manhattan.

They we’re pretty occupied with their party while I was there so we didn’t do much. We went out to G-Street Fabrics though, which is a surprisingly stocked fabric place for the suburbs… it used to be downtown, and I got some cool printed fabric for some new dresses (probably for next summer). They had a big stock of yukata/kimono-prints from Hawaii, probably meant for quilters.

On Sunday after the party, their friends Vicky and Joel (who live in Rowaton) stayed the night and the next morning we went to the National Gallery and the FDR memorial, which went up after I had left for college.

The trend in monuments seems to be “walk through” and appropriately, the FDR momument is very wheel-chair oriented… long twisty paths. They actually make a pretty huge deal about his Polio. I wonder how FDR would feel about that being touted so heavily in his legacy. The first sculpture is actually probably the best thing about it… it’s a really cartoony… like minimalist New Yorker cartoon… FDR sitting in a wheel chair, lifesize. Then there’s lots of random walls of rough-hewn pinkish granite carved with notable quotables and waterfalls (a TVA reference? or just showing off?). One section as a touchy-feelly wall for blind people… reliefs and things written in braille with no English translation.

The last thing is a super giant FDR in his Lord of the Rings cape with Fala the terrier at his side. Fala’s about 3 feet high and as we got there a kindergartener was doing what every kid of his generation will be doing—getting his picture taken riding Fala. Just like my brother and I both have pictures of us riding the chunky bear statue in the National Zoo and the triceratops in front of the Smithsonian Natural History museum (which is gone now… too many lawsuits? That thing was BIG.). Every monument maker and public sculpter must have that in the back of their mind… what can children ride and have their pictures taken atop.

Fala also is the spitting image of Jeff Koons’ “Puppy”

Last week I beat the final mission of Katamari Damacy (The Moon). I found it to be an enjoyable game with the unfortunate side effect of headaches. I think I would prefer the game in hat form rather than for PS2.

I’m having those move-away-from-New-York-forever moments. The biggest issue of living here that drives me up the wall is housing (take note Democratic Primary candidates with the ability to reverse time and thus, get my vote yesterday)... we pay astronomical rent and yet, live like animals. My apartment in particular is comically lacking in things like running water, heat, ammenities and competantly-assembled carpentry.

The latest lacking now is the oft-broken shower, which we’ve been living with for two weeks (from time of complaint to the appearance of the “plumber”... before the complaint… several odd weeks of clangling pipes and errant water delivery). Fixing it has become even more of an ordeal since the management keeps sending the same trollish fellow to “fix” it. He’s already been here 3 times to fix it… previously ripping out the wall. He’s doing it again now and with his typical laissez-faire approach, stretches it out as long as possible. We haven’t had a wall in our bathroom for three days now, nor a faucet. This is better than the time when he removed our toilet for two days, meaning any shitting or pissing options in the vicinity were limited to Renaissance/St Patrick’s Day style (out the window) or going down then up 6 flights of stairs. I still would like a shower… I stink of blood and desperation.

The first day he strolled in at the crack of noon, banged on the wall for an hour. Soldered some pipes. And then left at 5 PM with no wall, no faucet. I expressed irritation that it was not done and he burbled and rambled—he speaks no human tongue I can identify—and then left. The next day desiring to make a good impression, he appeared at 11:45 and asked for a key.I said I would wait in the apartment and I didn’t want to give the plumber a key and he started rambling and I have no idea what he was saying. Sounded like his delivery guy was coming and he needed the key to get the supplies in (which I suppose COULD makes sense… multiple trips downstairs)? Anyway, he started demanding I make him a key and I had just had it at that point and went out and got it, really mad.

I got the key and gave it to him and he sat around for like an hour as far as I could tell. I went in my room and fumed by the AC but when I checked outside for the lack of noise, I discovered he had just taken off… left my front door wide open too. He didn’t come back, he didn’t even touch the shower. I guess having his own key now allows him to do WHATEVER HE WANTS. He didn’t say anything about leaving or coming back or WHEN he was coming back.

The gallingest element is Trollo keeps saying “one day job… one day job” whenever he starts these.

I wish NASA would perfect maintainence droids so we would mulch all organic plumbers into pigfeed and axle grease.

Yesterday, Labor Day, Kirk and I went out to Hallie Unlovable’s mom’s house for a barbecue. She’s housesitting the house for the summer, in Croton Harmon on the Metro-North. It was a pretty easy trip and although I didn’t really know any of the people there, it was pretty ok.

The day turned awesome when we went down to the Croton river—where the local high school kids go to drink as evidenced by the broken beer bottles admist the rocks. The lifeguard on duty was pretty unhappy that 30+ people showed up 10 minutes before he was going to end his last shift of the season, and we ended up illegally swimming another hour after he took off (we hid in a different part of the river, away from the sandy beach) until it got too dark. Despite warning that the water was going to be really really cold, it was fine… brisk and clear. We had the whole river to ourselves in the middle of this wooded park. So lovely..

Today Kirk and I went to the Bronx Zoo.

People are assholes. People with children are big assholes with smaller assholes to continue their legacy of assholry. People who work at the Bronx Zoo, being on the receiving end of said assholry, trump all with (debately-righteous) supreme assholry. So many unpleasant humans amidst the 4000 species of animals (and Bug Carousel).

We also saw a baby snow leopard. And a mustachioed tiny monkey called an Emperor Tamarin. That was a ridiculous animal.

My Wife, The Ghost got an offer from Comedy Central to make MWTG for their new broadband channel (online only) and I’m knee-deep in negotiations right now. Dan Powell, of the development dept, referred me to a guy at William Morris to represent us in the contract stuff. He’s the same guy who represents Katie Dippold and a guy who used to produce for the Daily Show but now is writing for the Greg Giraldo show.

The contract is still being debated but the idea of it is Kirk and I will write two 2-minute episodes for them and get their notes. After the scripts are done, they have the option of green-lighting a “season” of 9-13 2-minute episodes. Comedy Central has the option to renew the show for up to 4 “seasons.”

We will continue to make the show ourselves, as we did for 102, but Comedy Central must approve all scripts and will give notes and such. We get a budget… it’s tiny, but more than we’re used to. Once the expenses (including getting a new apartment location!) and paying the cast and Bill (and whoever he wants to work with him) are covered, Kirk and I are going to keep the rest as our “salary.”

The best side-effect of this deal is getting an agent. Since this process started two-weeks ago I’ve mostly been preoccupied with updating my Girl Crush 2040 pitch kit. (And a little birdie told me that Cartoon Network has opened up to live-action shows and is seeking them) Fuck My Wife, The Ghost, man… I’m so over it.

I’ve gone eBay crazy! Relatedly, I have gone regular crazy!

In the past three days I’ve won four things and tomorrow morning at 8 AM that might go up to five. I’m an eBaying fool!

I also have insomnia, my gums bleed, and I find myself crying four or five times a day while watching television.

Hooray for eBay!

http://www.watanabegumi.co.jp/jpculture/howmanyi/jplaugh.html

Hi Hi Hi!

I have competition—
http://www1.odn.ne.jp/~cec50440/

Something that reminds me how glad I am that the internet wasn’t as accessible and I was less ambitious when I was 13. I probably would have made something just like this (minus the malapropism, clunky homoerotica, and wholesale lifted plot elements from other anime).

Prepare to have your eyeballs blown from their sockets

Actually, now I wish the internet was accessible—my web comic would have been awesome.

I was interviewed a year ago during Girl Crush for a Japanese magazine called “Figure King,” which I never got a copy of, and I’m not nearly as driven or resourceful as I should be to track down a copy and see if I indeed made it into “what’s going on in the US” column that month. I also had a sneaking suspicion that it was some kind of pornography. Based on nothing. Just sending my headshot in to a foreign magazine—despite the hour interview about the show—I had a feeling the column was “jerk off on this gaijin.”

This same stereotyping is what keeps me from going to Tokyo (despite claiming THREE Tokyo tourist guides from Will Hines’ book giveaway)—I’ve seen enough Japa-porn and fan service to assume casual rape is waiting on every street corner of Harajuku.

Anyway, when we got back from Toronto on Monday I checked my email to find that my interviewer (an American, now living in Japan) is now working on a book about OTAKU in America (For my cool friends, “otaku” basically means nerd, but the interpretation in the US is specifically “anime nerd”) and wanted to include some Girl Crush pictures and info(?).

I finally got ahold of the guy (after Butterfingers here erased the original email accidentally… what an otaku!) and send off my shots. But, since I’ve got the stimulus-response of a cuttlefish, this tiny amount of attention has made me dwell on the thought of doing another Girl Crush.

My boots have died and I am despondant. Less than despondant, probably, but more than bummed out.

After breaking the zipper on them more than six months ago, I finally took them to the shoe repair and the guy said he’d have to replace the zipper but he only had black zippers. So he’d have to replace the other non-broken zipper to keep them matched – $80. But the red zipper’s are what make them cool. Then it would be another $40 to build up the rubbed-down heel. So, I sadly decided not to get them repaired and give them an old fashioned Viking funeral. They were the most expensive shoes I had ever purchased, but that was more than 5 years ago. They survived much better than my subsequent Fluevog boots, which I’ve had to take in for repairs twice in the two years I’ve had them.

Now I have to get new boots for the winter. I feel weird throwing them away, despite knowing they are beyond salvaging. One has a working zipper for god’s sake! I wish I knew some stylish one-legged person who’d want it.

When I was going through my dresses I noticed almost all of them have holes I was not aware of… I really have become very trash-pickery without being aware of it. I just hate buying new things; shopping is like getting teeth pulled.

I quit my job yesterday.

If not already a fan, please visit Adam Green’s website and watch the video for “Friends of Mine.” Aside from being a lovely song (along with “Jessica Simpson”), the video is a shot-for-shot recreation of an infomercial for motivational/real estate method tapes.

Look for Adam using the motivational “thumb point.” Doug pointed this out during the taping, that speakers and politicians never point with a finger… they point with a fist with the thumb slightly cocked. Is this in imitation of Bob Dole’s palsied pen-gripping hand? I’m seeing it everywhere. Thumb pointing is probably less confrontational that finger pointing. It also looks far more retarded.

Tonight we greenscreen!

I took off work today. Woke up feeling like crap and not wanting to go to work, as do 99% of employed Americans I would guesstimate, but the pull of not going to work overtook my beaten-down sense of responsibility and I stayed in. I have two Marvel freelances I have to turn in and want to be more prompt about than the last batch. I also had middling, mindless house chores to accomplish. I also paranoiacly predicted something would go wrong with the shoot and wanted to be rested enough to deal with it.

Brian Fountain is stepping in as make-up man after Mike Hagen had a conflict the exact and only day the cast and crew could agree to meet, but his “caboodle” of stage makeup went missing the day before. A friend of him would loan some supplies, but someone had to go get it in Brooklyn. (As it turned out he decided to rollerblade in and drop it off, which was as sweet as it was ridiculous—stage makeup via rollerblade from Williamsburg—especially for a total stranger to do).

A hilarious advertiso-nugget from an age before irony

Lambre-Twist

(The 1.5 x normal sized woman was editted in. She is the v-blogger who hosts this item. How does one become a v-blogger, anyway? Wouldn’t the time consumed by filming, editing and uploading make vblogging impractical?)

I had the double whammy of a power-outage and a tech last night. I sat in the stinking, leaden heat of my pitch black apartment until midnight, when I had to drag myself out of bed for three hours of running this sketch show about being in Hell. Then I came to work.

Here is information on the sketch show I directed, should you like to attend:

“Hello, Operator”
written by Sarah Burns
directed by Dyna Moe
starring Sarah Burns, Angeliki George and Risa Sang-urai
Sound and Fury Bill Buckendorf and Mo Fathelbab

August 10th, Wednesday
7pm
Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre
301 W 26th St at 8th Avenue
212-366-9176
____________

I bought a new computer today… a second-hand PowerBook G4. My desktop is only a year older than the used guy, but I’ve never had a laptop before and it seems like a useful thing to have. I want to install Tiger on it (and on my desktop) at some point; it’s running Panther right now (though the previous owner wiped it completely before I took it over, I put Panther on it to test it out.

I made a few changes to the website as well… first in like, forever. I started work on a My Wife, The Ghost mini-page and finally am announcing the August Portrait Project (despite the fact only 4 people contributed thus far). Made new icons for the Projects page.

I called Jesse and asked for more ToyBiz work. He sent over two GhostRider characters they need control art for (the front, back and side diagrams for action figures). It’s awesome pay, but these characters are MacFarlaned-out… baroque with details… buckles, snaps, bones, flames, costume gee-gaws.

I was trying to calculate how long I could live on my savings and commissions if I decided to leave my job—two incidents this week pushed me further into the “what the fuck am I doing working at this place” camp. I’m reluctant to get too far into it since the first month I was working there, a programmer got fired for shit they wrote in their blog. That was more propriatary industry secret leak type content, but more than being fired I want to avoid a “lecture” from either of my bosses.