Three murders captured live on film.

Rest in peace..

I'll tell you what confusion is.

Confusion is the sight of a man in the subway terminal, simultaneously yawning while running full speed. That very scene was witnessed by me yesterday afternoon, and it made the top of my skull itch.

Yawning plus running full speed...add a few bags of cash, score it with The Zombies "This Will Be Our Year" and you could have the opening scene to the worst heroin-addicted- Olympic-athlete-turned-bank-robber drama ever.

You know what else is confusing? Lindsey Lohan actually having ability to understand the proper use of gravity and not accidentally hovering up into the Earth's atmosphere. Her body is made up of twenty trillion tiny, cocaine-dusted question marks. Each with their own pack of Camel non-filters.


"We have noting to do with this post."

I know, fellas. I know.

Charlie Kaufman

...he gonna take out your brain, flip the inside up over the outside, kiss it, set it in some NYC street-snow and then reinsert it backwards.

I present to you, the poster for Kaufman's upcoming Synecdoche, New York
(click to read an interesting article from the LA Times)

The Lamp. The Cowboy Lamp. The Cowboy Pig Lamp.

"It's a one take fucker." - A Purple, Pulsating Richard Simmons

My eyes. My life.

Empire when?

Today. Empire Today.

A list of Youtube videos that I feel should have ended by the 60 second mark

1. Jason Voorhees on The Arsenio Hall Show


and...well, that's it actually.

I'm sorry to hear about the high fever you've developed

Please drink lots of fluids, relax and watch this. It'll help calm your shocked nervous system.

I must have dreamed a thousand dreams

...been haunted by a million screams.

Phil Collins once said "I'm all 'gone fishin' until next week."
And by that he was referring to me. Right now. Peace.

Rowen and Martin and the jokes of Rickles.

Post-Something or Something.

First of all...


Secondly, I'm very much hung over.

Powdered Vic

"How many does that make for you, like a hundred million? Give me a break."

In the mid-1980s, Stephen King wrote, produced and directed a Toys R Us commercial

...there were no survivors.

Hot. New York City.

It was so hot in New York City today, citizens were diving into apartment fires simply for the cooler temperatures.

It's so hot in New York today, a confused President Bush sent U.S. troops into the city to take over its oil fields.

New York is so hot, the newest addition to our city's Most Wanted Terrorists list is the Sun.

Uncle Michael

"That was the week I fell on your fucking porch."

Marcy From Bushwick

"I'm allergic to Christina, you know? Haahah! Or her cats."

Birthday Cake Larry

"Why didn't you call me back last night? Who's going swimming this summer?"

Last night on The Jeffersons

Unbeknownest to himself, George ate a mouthful of chocolate-covered bumble bees (I'm not kidding). Dude was pissed. But honestly, when is he not? One second after his bumble bee tantrum, he began screaming at his son about not being brave enough to tell his wife she can't attend school in Europe. All talkin' about "You're the MAN in this relationship! You gotta take a STAND in this relationship!"

Man, calm the arteries before they turn to bone. Also, rhyming is for dirtballs and wind surfers.

If I were to describe the way my subconcious sees George Jefferson to a sketch artist, the end result would look exactly like this:



(Also, apparently this post was originally written by a women's rights activist in 1976. Her name is not important.)

I dig myself a Woody Allen interview

An in-depth conversation from the French program "Cinéma Cinémas"


"Cinéma Cinémas" Interview Continued


Woody on Dick Cavett Part One (the rest can be found here)

Blue Collar Fridays!

If you're two inches tall and live on the inside of an engine block, you might be a redneck.

If you refer to barbeque sauce as "nature's tooth paste", you might be a redneck.

If your neck is bloody and often on fire, you might be a redneck (call the ambulence, weirdo)

Nothing appeals more to sleepy-eyed children on Saturday mornings than...

fictional murderers abruptly dedicating thier lives to fighting crime.


Nothing.

I'm tired.

Four hours of sleep last night, four. But, I can't complain. There are people in third world countries who could barely afford two.

What was Laverne doing in that closet?

65 seconds into the Laverne & Shirley intro, both characters simultaneously emerge, causing a collision of doors. Shirley from the hall and Laverne the closet. For decades it's been unknown what exactly Laverne was doing in there, and why. Here are a few possibilities:

1. Secretly producing her cult-inspiring, pirate radio show "Smoker's Breath and Teeth"
2. Relating to this green potato chip she'd found four days prior
3. Making a mockery of our nation's judicial system!!
4. Fine-tuning her epic poem Wont You Come? later to be stolen by Soundgarden and used verbatim in a disgusting, throw-up known as Black Hole Sun
5. Invading the day dreams of school children, murdering said school children
6. Waiting for her cue

Why don't we ask actress Penny Marshall herself? Penny, what was your character doing in that closet anyway?

"Four outta da above six, baby blue cheeses!"

Ok? Thanks for the closure?

I'm doing stand-up.

Witness me tell jokes about the scent of the Declaration of Independence, as well as its texture.

Black Habanero presents a special night of comedy featuring sketches, improv, stand-up, and a short film.

Thursday, July 5th 11pm
Two Boots Video
44 Avenue A
New York, NY

The mustached creep of the universe

Failed terrorist attacks in the UK force American airports to strengthen security

The most recent attempt occurred Saturday when two terrorists drove a gas-cylinder filled Jeep Cherokee into the front doors of Glasgow Airport's main terminal. U.S. airports have since tightened security.

My problem is this, now I'll never be able to experience my dream of yelling "Keep it!" while throwing car keys to an airport security guard after he has angrily stated that I can't suspiciously park a car in the front of the airport terminal then proceed to run inside, all fast, crying and horny.

Thanks for ruining it for me, British Terror Creatures/Dream Theives.

But still, I do have my other goal: hanging outside the sun roof of a speeding stretch limo and gleefully yelping "I love this town!"

(Note: both of the above cliched situations would end in my rescuing of a girl from her beer-drunk piano teacher, for some reason)