Monthly Archive for October, 2004

October 27, 2004

Published on 10/27/2004 in Dear Diarrhea. 2 Comments

Never have I noticed my age more than when I found myself shaving a little patch of hair on my back and watching the tuft of hair fall on Twillow, my roommate’s cat, as she had half of her body hanging out of the litter-box. I looked in the little cracked mirror at my gut hanging out all pasty and gross… Are you kidding me?! And the contorted facial expression that was frozen on my face looked like I had more chins than a Mexican phone book! (Which is about four) It hit me right then and there that I was 34 years old and I have a roommate with a cat that was crapping out what I was feeling at that moment. Right there at that very moment it hit me like a couple of nerf bricks… I’M ALLERGIC TO CATS AND I AM FORCED TO LIVE WITH ONE!!!

It’s not the cat’s fault, I shouldn’t have hissed at her like that. She knows that I am in a temporary situation at the moment and I can’t afford not to leave this cheap as hell rent until I book a few more jobs. Twillow is a good cat and I think she appreciates the fact that she isn’t allergic to my dander. I constantly remind her of that. My allergies are getting better with time and experience. For all of those people that are allergic to cat dander, all you have to do is wash your hands after you are forced to pet a cat and then wear a respirator that a carpenter might wear if removing asbestos, or any other airborne carcinogens of that nature. Funny how not four months ago I would lay on the couch watching the TV, and like clock work, it looked like I cried every time I watch the Simpsons. Now, for some mysterious reason, I’m getting acclimated with the little girl’s furry body.

The new vacuum that I got helps too. I have six words to say to you… wear – gloves – and -a –heavy – jacket! Vacuuming a cat is something that only a pro like myself should do. And make sure you have a good hepa filter so all the cat dander stays in the vac.

KIDDING! For all of the animal lovers out there, I’m kidding! Never vacuumed a cat in my life. But if for some reason you could train a cat to love the loud sucking power of a vacuum massaging every inch of their body, I wouldn’t hesitate owning a feline myself. They are quite interesting animals that will rid any rodent that comes within the parameters of your home.

Some say that you should get a hairless cat if you are allergic to regular hairy cats. I would if I had a spare three-thousand dollars and no friends. Hairless cats look like something that a fireman saved from a burning building and they never grew their hair back. Speaking of hairless cats, this reminds me of one of my old jokes. I’ll do it for you now…

“Hairless cats are pretty cool, aren’t they? Am I right or am I right?! I got lucky and bought one for 50% off the asking price… Everything is perfect with Raskles, perfectly hairless except for that he has the hairiest balls I’ve ever seen in my life!”

I have a show to get ready for now. It IS Wednesday for crying aloud!! I will finish yapping about cats later…

October 20, 2004

Published on 10/20/2004 in Dear Diarrhea. 0 Comments

So this is the first thing that I’ve written on my new iBook and I can’t tell you how great it is to be on a machine that spells the shit out of my words for me. First of all, let me tell you how I got this baby. I got on the internets just like Bush would do, and browsed Craigslist.net and found someone selling this computer. I emailed him and told him I was interested in checking the fella out (I was going to name my new computer Randles which is a boy’s name, AKA fella) and he met me at the Starbucks that I visit daily and the rest is history. I ended up paying a hefty chunk of money for Randles but it was worth every hundred-dollar bill. Not to mention the reggae he left for me to listen to. I tell ya what I hate more than reggae and that is when someone is popping his or her gum within earshot of me. That is happening as we speak from a guy sitting at the table beside me, which is why I was forced to hunt and gather whatever music the previous owner left on the machine and blast it through my headphones to block out his grossness. I wish to hell that I didn’t have such a horrible problem with people noises. I am trying my best to be more Zen about it, but sometimes it is impossible. I was hoping my non-verbal actions would be enough of a hint for the guy to shut the hell up and spit the gum out. If I saw someone with one finger in his ear and the other frantically looking in his bag for headphones, I think I’d get the hint that I was an inconsiderate asshole. Ya know what I mean? This guy loved the reggae. Now all I hear is a bunch of Jamaican jam that is making me want to pull out a fat joint and smoke it with my fellow coffee-mates.

I think I liked listening to reggae for about a week in my early adulthood and that was when I heard that this girl I had a crush on listened to it. I came pretty close to gathering together some dreadlocks for my head to carry around but decided against it when I found out she had a boyfriend. That would’ve really put the “dread” in dreadlock. I have a pretty nasty vision of dreadlocks that cuts much deeper than any former crush from my past and that is seeing dreadlocks on an animal. I was cat sitting this massive fat ass cat in Hollywood a few years ago and I had to cut off a few of it’s Jamaican danglers from his ass because it was a shit and litter trap that he carried around to all of the furniture and my lap. I “dreaded” taking a pair of scissors to those dreadlocks. What an invasion of privacy that was! I don’t blame Zhookie for scratching the piss out of me either. If I had claws and one of my babysitters tried to do the same thing to me, I would scratch them too. Don’t get me started about my cat sitting days. I will save those stories for the book.

I wish you could see what is going on behind me. Two delivery guys are snoring on the couch, which is about a foot to the back of me. It’s almost as bad as the guy popping his gum. No I take that back, it is equally as bad as the gum popping because I can hear them through the reggae. I will try to take a picture of them for you. Success! They look really tired which is making me tired and now I don’t care that they are snoring anymore. I better go and try to figure out how to send this picture to you. Wish me luck!

Bobby’s Bio (by Amelia)

Published on 10/15/2004 in Bio. 1 Comment

Bobby was born in Atlanta, Georgia and was the baby of three with two older sisters. He had flaming red hair and was the darling of the family. The sisters were overshadowed by this spoiled, yet loving, yet strange little creature and they were never the same. His oldest sister put herself up for adoption at the tender age of eleven to find a new family that appreciated her and to get away from her larger than life baby brother. She finally found a loving couple of carnival workers that took her on the road and set her up in the disappearing girl exhibit, which got a lot of attention. She was rather skinny which allowed her to appear to have disappeared when she turned to the side. His other sister decided that she was never going to amount to anything so she gave up and married the first man that would have her and spawned his offspring, praying the whole time that none of her children would have a red head. Luckily for her they didn’t.

Enough about Bobby’s sisters. More about the man himself. He was a scrawny kid that didn’t excel in school, but that didn’t matter. He charmed his teachers into giving him passing grades. It worked every time and to his parents’ amazement, he was promoted to the next grade every year. There was a lot of nail biting at his high school graduation ceremony and massive celebration when his name was finally called. No one could believe it, but Bobby had received his high school diploma. Bobby was a red-headed adult now and tried his hand at several professions before he realized that the one thing that he could do successfully was make people laugh. Not all people. Some would just get frightened and would hope to never see him again. But the times he did make them laugh, they really laughed and that made Bobby so happy. Who doesn’t want their ego enlarged? He knew the Big Apple was where he needed to be. His friend from school was already there and he somehow convinced Bobby that he should be there, too. So he packed his bags and left everything and everyone behind. That’s about all there is. He’s making people laugh and having a great time. You gotta love NYC. You never have to grow up while you’re there. Party, party, party!!!

Biography submitted by the younger of Bobby’s older sisters, Amelia (last name withheld to protect her family)

[We'll start posting the Bobby's Bio entries here for all to enjoy.]

October 14, 2004

Published on 10/14/2004 in Dear Diarrhea. 0 Comments

I came very close to having a panic attack last night because I had Chuck Berry’s live version of “My Ding-a-ling” stuck in my head for a good four hours. It was horrible and at one point I was sitting straight up in bed singing “The Rose” to myself in hopes of negating that frigging ding-a-ling crap. I really don’t know why I chose “The Rose”, it didn’t work worth a shit. Nothing worked… Kinda reminded me of when I had night terrors as a kid. When you can’t get out of a dream until someone literally slaps you out of it. I remember one of the scariest night terrors I had was when I was around nine or ten. I went to bed right after the start of a Monday night football game and when I went to sleep, the Monday night football pre-show theme music was stuck in my head with two big football helmets slamming into each other, over and over until I thought my head was going to explode. “Du du du duhhh, ba ba! Du du du du da duh daaaa!!! Ba ba bah bu bah bu bahhhh, da duh da duh da duh daaa!!!!” Whatever! You know the music, it hasn’t changed. But I remember along with the music there were the two opposing helmets crashing into each other and lighting and stuff shot out of them at impact, perfectly timed to that dreaded music. Just think how you’d feel if you had that visual and music stuck in your head and even with your eyes open and walking around your bedroom, it wouldn’t stop. Those night terrors, or what some people call being delirious, are the closest thing I’ve experienced to actually going crazy.

You’re probably wondering why I have a Chuck Berry song stuck in my head. I am singing that song at my friend Eugene’s comedy CD release party on the 18th at the Bowery Ballroom, which by the way holds about eight-hundred people. I don’t consider myself a good singer but I do consider myself a powerful performer, which will get me through this ordeal without a hitch… I hope. It will be fun to sing with a live band behind me, put together by Aimee Miles and a group of very talented musicians. Aimee played the song for me the other day and I was surprised that I remembered most of the lyrics… “My ding-a-ling! Won’t you play with my ding-a-ling… Everybody sing!… A whop dop dupe dop, my ding-a-ling..” Anyway, that song got stuck in my head in the most disturbing way last night and I’m just praying that after the show it won’t come back and attack my brain again.

Speaking of songs getting stuck in my head, I was shopping in K-Mart a couple of weeks ago and that song, “I know, I’ll never… love this way again… When all the good has gone… I know, I’ll never… Love this way again…” that song! Anyway, that song was stuck in my head for exactly six or seven blocks. You’re all like “Yeah right. You remember exactly how many blocks you had a song stuck in your head. Sure Bobby. You’re making it up for the story at hand.” Well it’s true and I’ll tell you why! Not only was it six or seven blocks, but I also stopped and sat in a chair at the Starbucks on St. Marks and 3rd Avenue for about five minutes to check my messages and stuff the contents from the K-Mart bag into my backpack. Anyway, I was exactly six or seven blocks away from K-Mart standing in front of the movie theater on 3rd and 11th Street waiting for my roommate to buy me a ticket to “I Heart Huckabee’s” for my birthday present, which was October 1st- meaning that the exact day that the song was stuck in my head was October 2nd. I know, I know… Too much information for a simple story about getting a song stuck in my head. But it gets MUCH crazier, trust me!..
Anyway, going on fifteen to twenty minutes of that song in my head with no end in sight, out of the blue, coming from across the street, I hear the same song that was stuck in my head being sung by a couple of cute girls. Together they were singing and laughing together, “I know, I’ll NEVER Love this way again!!!..” I couldn’t believe it! Oh, my gosh, I have that song stuck in my head too! What a random coincidence! It wasn’t exactly a top forty hit from this summer, it was a random song from our youth and we all were singing it. Did they pick it up from me subliminally somehow? Maybe they passed me as I was checking my messages and I was singing it out loud. Can’t be! I never sang it aloud. Then after they passed me I noticed that they were carrying a couple of K-Mart bags!!! BINGO! I solved the mystery. I have to say something to them! I had the same song stuck in my head for the same fifteen to twenty minutes as they did and we all got the song bug from K-Mart. They are gonna love it when I go up to them and show them my K-Mart bag and sing along with them. I pictured that we would sing and laugh like strangers, a little love triangle on a beautiful fall day in the middle of a New York City block, all connected by a song that brought us together from a mid-afternoon shopping spree at K-Mart… As I fumbled with my bag to get it open it hit me that I threw the bag away. It would only work if I had an immediate visual with the K-Mart bag showing them that I indeed was a good guy and not a crazy man stalking them and trying to join their sing-along. I could’ve run up and started singing with them waving the receipt that I still had from the transaction but that would make me look even crazier. I’m sure they would immediately get where I’m coming from singing “I know, I’ll never… Love this way again… Wait up ladies!!! Hold on for a second!!! Don’t run away!!! I have my receipt! I was in K-Mart tooooooo!!!!”

Another possible love of my life gone forever. Man, they were both cute as hell too. And I love when a girl will sing and be silly like that as well. What a great birthday present that would’ve been. Five years later on October 2nd, we would dance to that song at our wedding, laughing and remembering that wonderful day when I ran up to them with a K-Mart bag full of wet wipes and Life cereal, (Which is what I purchased that day) singing a song that was magically stuck in our heads at the same time but different locations at K-Mart…. Ahhh, what memories… Why did I throw that bag away!!!

Well, maybe… Just maybe one of the girls that day will read this, look at her calendar and remember singing that song as she walked by the movie theater on 3rd Avenue and remember a guy looking befuddled and digging through his backpack singing the same song she was. Maybe she will contact me and we can have a date at K-Mart in the coming weeks, starting fresh with another hit song that can get stuck in our heads together. Maybe something like Chuck Berry’s, “My Ding-a-ling” or something like that… There I go again. Now I know what will be stuck in my head for the rest of the day… I gotta go now, I’m going to K-Mart to find her… “Some say loooove, it is a river… That blahhhh, blah blah blah blahhhh”…

October 6, 2004

Published on 10/6/2004 in Dear Diarrhea. 0 Comments

I finally had to stop playing nerf basketball so I could get some work done in my room. I had to hit three three-pointers in a row before quitting time and that took about fifteen to twenty minutes, which is rare considering that I am quite good at nerf basketball. I’ve been playing nerf basketball ever since I was about ten years old. I have never not had a nerf goal in whatever abode I’m living in. It’s like therapy for me, which is another word for procrastination. I can spend an hour shooting three pointers.

Guess what I just saw being filmed in Union Square? A couple guys on the Apprentice, gotta be that. Two different guys in business apparel carrying pizza boxes with an individual camera crew following each of them throughout the park? I mean come on, what else could it be! They look sooo stupid and the people following them are equally as stupid looking. Let me guess, one of their duties is to sell slices of pizza or give away pizza to promote a new pizza store in the area. I am so glad I’m not on one of those shows. Look at this! One of the guys has a girl holding a plant behind him as he walks around holding a pizza box. He looks so cocky, I wanna throw something at him.

A good reality show would be a show where hypnotists battle for a chance to hypnotize Donald Trump into give them his entire Trump empire. Each week you see a different hypnotist with big business dreams swinging a pendulum back and forth in front of Donald’s face and the catch phrase they would shout out would be, “YOUR TIRED”, which would then wake him up just in time for Donald to scream back, “YOU’RE FIRED”, and then the hypnotist would then in turn yell back to him, “I WAS NEVER HIRED”. This would go on for thirteen episodes until one of the hypnotists realizes that by whispering “YOU’RE TIRED” over and over again was the trick to getting the Trump under hypnosis. I don’t want to give anything away though. I will say that the show will be about as exciting as watching a stopwatch swing for twelve straight hours with grass growing in the background.

What we need to have is a show like mine where we hypnotize America not vote for the dumbest man ever to represent the United States of America, Mr. George W. Bush. Wouldn’t that be great! Just imagine if Bush was out of office! God I hope so… That’s why I love living in New York because the vast majority of the people living here are Democrats and understand how absolutely terrible it would be for the whole world if Bush is president for four more years. Same when I lived in Los Angeles, two of the largest cities representing the USA are absolutely against Bush and want him out. It’s a beautiful thing to see and I pray for all of my Republican friends and family to vote for someone with an IQ larger than Jessica Simpson’s. . . By the way, this last paragraph is specifically for a handful of people reading this, I love them but at the same time I want them to punch themselves in the nose and wake up and read up on what is REALLY going on in the world other than what Fox News and their parents are telling them. Change is good, especially if you want the world to maybe KINDA like us again. Here’s the deal. If you vote for Kerry, I will let you write a Dear Diarrhea and you can say ANYTHING you want to. Write crap about me, I don’t give a shit! I’ll publish it for the hundreds of people that read this to see! Do it! I dare you… Just vote for Kerry and let ‘er rip Diarrhea style! Come on and do it! It will be fun and who knows, you might save a few thousand lives in the process!!!

That’s it! The last time I talk about politics today…. Before I go let me ask you this… What do Mount St. Helens and George Bush have in common besides the fact that they are both about to blow again this Friday?… I don’t know either.