EXT. Harlem
It is night, about 11:00pm. Corey walks home listening to his ipod nano; Jamie Cullum's All at Sea plays. He walks up to an intersection and waits for the walk signal. Random Man (or prostitute?) enters, he is mid-late twenties and Puerto Rican or possibly Mexican. He stands looking at Corey. Corey pretends not to notice him.
Random Man(or prostitute?): Hey.
Corey pretends not to hear and continues to listen to music.
Random Man (or prostitute?): walking closer Excuse me.
Corey takes out one earphone as to listen to what this innocent looking man is saying.
Random Man (or prostitute?): Where's Madison?
Corey: Oh, that's a ways away, but if you walk that way you'll eventually run into it.
The Random Man (or prostitute?) looks confused and stumbles for words. His eyes start to become shifty. Corey takes notice and increases the awareness of his surroundings as to make sure he is not the target of a multi-thug sting operation.
Corey: Where do you need to be?
More shifty eyes and confusion
Corey: Madison is that way, so you'll hit it if you just keep walking.
Random Man (or prostitute?): Where are you going?
Corey: uhh... I'm walking south--Madison is east; that way.
Random Man (or prostitute?): Can I go with you?
Corey: What?!
Random Man (or prostitute?): Can I go home with you?
Corey: laughing in his face Sorry.
Corey quickly walks away.
---ALT ENDING---
Random Man (or prostitute?): Can I go home with you?
Corey takes in his question and looks into his sad eyes which are crying out for the warm, matronly embrace of a friend or lover.
Corey: Sure. Lets get you into some warm clothes--do you like hot cocoa?
Random Man (or prostitute?): Do I?! Thanks Mister!
Cut To:
INT. Corey's apartment
The apartment is alive and bustling with the excitement of the quickly approaching holiday. Although meager, their Christmas tree is decorated with lights, ornaments and other accoutrements of holiday cheer. Presents lay strewn underneath the tree and Christmas music is playing in the background. The roommates are singing and drinking hot cocoa and eggnog. Corey Enters.
Corey: Greetings!!
Roommates: Merry Christmas Corey!
Corey: And a Merry Christmas to you too! I have a surprise!
Jon: Is it a gift for us?
Corey: Well yes, in a way.
Brian: Were you able to get the extra fat goose for Christmas dinner? The one that's hanging in the butcher's window?
Corey: (laughing) Not this year, Brian. It's a different sort of gift.
Courtney: Well what is it?
Corey: His name is Julio. I ran into him on the street and he asked if he could come home with me.
Roommates: How is this a gift for us?
Corey: Well, I think he might be homeless.
Jon: You mean, he doesn't have a home?
Corey: Yes, Jon. That or he's a prostitute, I'm not quite sure. Either way he looked sad, confused and possibly on drugs, so I invited him back to spend the 3 weeks leading up to Christmas with us.
Courtney: I don't know...Is he nice?
Corey: Well yes he is, Courtney. He didn't talk much on the walk here, but he seems very pleasant. What better way to bring in the Christmas holiday by inviting a stranger in and welcoming him to our home with open arms. What do ya say?
Roomates: YAY!!
Corey: Come on in Julio!
Julio Enters. The roommates shower him with gifts, cookies, eggnog and hot cocoa as they all sing along in joyous harmony with the David Bowie, Bing Crosby version of Little Drummer Boy. A claymation snowman narrator enters in front and begins speaking to the camera.
Snowman Narrator: Corey and his roommates learned the true meaning of Christmas that year. After Julio sold their belongings for drug money and raped their innocence, they were left with nothing more than their Christmas spirit shattered beneath the tree. There were no more presents, no more carols, no more cups of eggnog spiked with delicious optimism. All that remained was the hope that next Christmas would be a better one, one in which they learned from the mistakes of Christmas past. Have a happy Christmas children!
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Who are the customers I deal with?
Here is a quick profile, a cross-section, if you will, of the types of people that are out there in this world and contacting bway.com.
I called this customer and had to leave a voice mail. This was his answering machine message:
"Hi, you've reached the Parkers. For English, press 1 and wait for the tone. For Spanish, hang up now and call back after learning English. This is just a quick reminder that you still live in America."
This guy really gets that many non-English speaking people calling him to warrant leaving that on his answering machine? What's the point anyway? If they don't speak English, they won't understand what you're saying. In reality, the sole purpose of this answering machine message was to let friends, family and broadway.com employees know his position on English being the national language. I wonder if he knows that America doesn't have a national language...
And now for some amazing emails sent in by some of our customers. Many thanks to Nathaniel Bogart who compiled them and gave me the go ahead to publish them to the world. Names and contact info have been changed for the privacy and dignity of these hilariously misguided people (Although, I wish I could call them up to tell them what morons they are) Aside from that, these remain unchanged from how they were sent.
From: Lisa Nun
Subject: Other
Message: I really don't know if you can even help me, but maybe you can point me in the right direction. I am having a Phantom Of the Opera themed wedding where I will be dressed as Christine, the problem I am having is that I am looking for the wig that she wears and possibly the clothing. If you have any idea where I may be able to find these items or who I could contact if you are not the correct party please let me know. Any help in this matter would be much appreciated. Thank you . Sincerely , Lisa Nun
From: Raelpho Noggin
Subject: Other
Message: Broadway Representatives:
I was wondering if there was a possibility for me to audition as an actor/singer, for any upcoming broadway show. I was thinking of sending you a video, for example, or something to test my adeptness so that maybe you can considerate the fact of having me onboard.
Thanks for your time, please answer my inquietude.
From: Jean Spitzer
Subject: New York Information
Message: My husband and I are planning to take our son --and his girl friend?? -- out on the town in NYC for his 20th birthday next Feb 07. We are all from out of town. My husband thinks there's probably some "cool" night spot that we could all go to together. I doubt it. By the way we are African Amn. Do you know of any such 'scene'??
From: Jennica Morgan
Subject: General Theater Information
Message: Hi Could you Please send me info on The lion kjng and any general Broadway info you have. Also A plastic bag or box with NY or broadway on it My adress is 1409 Rusten Good Rd Greensboro, NC 29634 Thank You!!!!!
From: Sofia London
Subject: Other
Message: Hi! i just wanna ask someone if i could star i some of the upcoming musicals at Broadway, i grew up i Sweden and like to do theatres, i have never been in a musical home in sweden before, so its something new for me,
And this is, by far, my favorite.
From: Ricky t. Fratz
I called this customer and had to leave a voice mail. This was his answering machine message:
"Hi, you've reached the Parkers. For English, press 1 and wait for the tone. For Spanish, hang up now and call back after learning English. This is just a quick reminder that you still live in America."
This guy really gets that many non-English speaking people calling him to warrant leaving that on his answering machine? What's the point anyway? If they don't speak English, they won't understand what you're saying. In reality, the sole purpose of this answering machine message was to let friends, family and broadway.com employees know his position on English being the national language. I wonder if he knows that America doesn't have a national language...
And now for some amazing emails sent in by some of our customers. Many thanks to Nathaniel Bogart who compiled them and gave me the go ahead to publish them to the world. Names and contact info have been changed for the privacy and dignity of these hilariously misguided people (Although, I wish I could call them up to tell them what morons they are) Aside from that, these remain unchanged from how they were sent.
From: Lisa Nun
Subject: Other
Message: I really don't know if you can even help me, but maybe you can point me in the right direction. I am having a Phantom Of the Opera themed wedding where I will be dressed as Christine, the problem I am having is that I am looking for the wig that she wears and possibly the clothing. If you have any idea where I may be able to find these items or who I could contact if you are not the correct party please let me know. Any help in this matter would be much appreciated. Thank you . Sincerely , Lisa Nun
From: Raelpho Noggin
Subject: Other
Message: Broadway Representatives:
I was wondering if there was a possibility for me to audition as an actor/singer, for any upcoming broadway show. I was thinking of sending you a video, for example, or something to test my adeptness so that maybe you can considerate the fact of having me onboard.
Thanks for your time, please answer my inquietude.
From: Jean Spitzer
Subject: New York Information
Message: My husband and I are planning to take our son --and his girl friend?? -- out on the town in NYC for his 20th birthday next Feb 07. We are all from out of town. My husband thinks there's probably some "cool" night spot that we could all go to together. I doubt it. By the way we are African Amn. Do you know of any such 'scene'??
From: Jennica Morgan
Subject: General Theater Information
Message: Hi Could you Please send me info on The lion kjng and any general Broadway info you have. Also A plastic bag or box with NY or broadway on it My adress is 1409 Rusten Good Rd Greensboro, NC 29634 Thank You!!!!!
From: Sofia London
Subject: Other
Message: Hi! i just wanna ask someone if i could star i some of the upcoming musicals at Broadway, i grew up i Sweden and like to do theatres, i have never been in a musical home in sweden before, so its something new for me,
And this is, by far, my favorite.
From: Ricky t. Fratz
Subject: Other
Message: Hey I am 15 years old and I will be in ninth grade at Democracy high school in Nazareth twsp. PA. I would like to somehow get onto broadway in the next few years, i am a dancer and I seriously am a legend and a very popular kid in Nazareth. I can act a little and can sing a little too. I have been dancing for almost my whole life. I can do a bunch of kinds of dances including freestyle, hip-hop, pop, jazz, and ballroom. I have been in a ton of talent shows, musicals, and choirs. I am not really a stranger when it comes to being on stage. It has been me and my family's dream for a couple years already to be recognized and to be on broadway, especially. I have taken lessons for singing and dancing. I do not like to fly on a plane so I really can't go too many hours away, so that's one of the reasons why I want to be on broadway at least it is only a couple of hours away. I would also like to make some money now, dancing on broadway. Pretty much the main reason for getting on broadway is my nana is almost 80 and I don't know how many more years I'll have her around and she really would love to see her favorite grandchild doing what he loves on broadway, dancing. I used to live right down the street from her a couple of years ago and now that I live a couple of miles away It does'nt change the fact that she always bugs me to do something I love and her dream is to see me on broadway. I go to the same church as her, I go out with her and my grandpa out to eat or shopping a couple of times a month. I also talk on the phone with her litterally every night. I see her and my grandpa almost more than my mom and dad, younger sister, my pets or even my friends. I've been told that there is something very special bond with a young boys life, and that is the bond between a young boy and his grandma. Thanks for reading this and please, give me a chance to honor myself, my town, my family and most of all my loving grandma who pushes me towards my goal of music EVERY DAY.
Message: Hey I am 15 years old and I will be in ninth grade at Democracy high school in Nazareth twsp. PA. I would like to somehow get onto broadway in the next few years, i am a dancer and I seriously am a legend and a very popular kid in Nazareth. I can act a little and can sing a little too. I have been dancing for almost my whole life. I can do a bunch of kinds of dances including freestyle, hip-hop, pop, jazz, and ballroom. I have been in a ton of talent shows, musicals, and choirs. I am not really a stranger when it comes to being on stage. It has been me and my family's dream for a couple years already to be recognized and to be on broadway, especially. I have taken lessons for singing and dancing. I do not like to fly on a plane so I really can't go too many hours away, so that's one of the reasons why I want to be on broadway at least it is only a couple of hours away. I would also like to make some money now, dancing on broadway. Pretty much the main reason for getting on broadway is my nana is almost 80 and I don't know how many more years I'll have her around and she really would love to see her favorite grandchild doing what he loves on broadway, dancing. I used to live right down the street from her a couple of years ago and now that I live a couple of miles away It does'nt change the fact that she always bugs me to do something I love and her dream is to see me on broadway. I go to the same church as her, I go out with her and my grandpa out to eat or shopping a couple of times a month. I also talk on the phone with her litterally every night. I see her and my grandpa almost more than my mom and dad, younger sister, my pets or even my friends. I've been told that there is something very special bond with a young boys life, and that is the bond between a young boy and his grandma. Thanks for reading this and please, give me a chance to honor myself, my town, my family and most of all my loving grandma who pushes me towards my goal of music EVERY DAY.
there is no need to make witty remarks on these. I think they speak for themselves.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Oh, Broadway.com, you sad sad corporation.
My supervisor just walked by, oh so importantly, while I was looking at T-shirts online at The Onion Store and muttered passive-aggressively, "nice t-shirts." To which I wanted to respond: "Ya know what, Wallace? They ARE nice t-shirts. They are actually pretty damn hilarious. Maybe you wouldn't rather be reading a t-shirt that says, "Stereotypes are a real time saver" but I would. "
I didn't do that though. I quickly clicked over to a work-related page, moved my mouse around feigning productivity, went back to finish looking at t-shirts, then decided to write a blog about it.
He wears a wireless headset. In case you didn't know, what we do here at Broadway.com is really important--Wallace and his headset want you to know that. Every customer he talks to on that thing sure knows it--he can't resist joyfully telling the customer, "I have my new wireless headset so now I can walk around the office AND talk to you at the same time."
I'm sure they're really impressed...
I am not. Nothing about this art-killing company impresses me anymore. I used to think it was cool that I had my own cubicle. How naive and anxious for adulthood I was. I used to be excited that we got free pizza for lunch on holidays--now I wonder why they don't pay for us to go out drinking like cool companies do. I used to think Broadway was magical--oh, the irony to see it now as the greedy, corporate machine it is.
I, for one, am glad that I spent the last part of my day here at work writing this blog. As I hear people freak out and have embarrassing outbursts at frustrating customers, it comforts me to know that I don't care. I don't care at all. It makes me happy to know that the majority of each paycheck I get is for me not doing work =)
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Oh boy...
So I was gonna write a little bit about how I was pleasantly thrust into the Christmas spirit today with the multitudes of Christmas songs playing on the radio at my co-workers desk. I was gonna write about how I think it's too early for the Christmas season--it's not even December, but there I was, getting all excited. I was gonna write about past Christmas's when my sister Katie and I would be running around our house pretending to be reindeer while decorating the house and listening to Johnny Mathis.
I was gonna write about that, but then decided there are more important things that need discussing:
Clay Aiken and his latest antics.
Lucky for Kelly Ripa, the producers of Live! chose Clay Aiken to be the guest host on Friday's show. Apparently he was being an ass to Kelly Ripa the entire time, gaining the confidence and prickishness he lacked as a foppish, bumbling highschooler. Take a look at this and then watch how Rosie O'Donnell and the ladies at The View got involved today.
What an outrageously gay, morning-talkshow clusterfuck this is!
This is so ridiculous, for numerous reasons:
1. Clay Aiken is a douche.
2. Isn't the fact that Rosie O'Donnell called it a "homophobic remark" declaring that Clay Aiken is gay? The irony of Rosie outing Clay whilst defending his actions is ripe.
3. Clay Aiken really is a big douche. I love how awkward he got after he realized what he did was a "no no." You can actually watch as he reverts back to his self-conscious, mousy, inner-child while trying to deflect the wrath of Ripa.
Oh, I know it's such a blogging cliche to gossip about the latest entertainment bitchfests, but when Clay Aiken is involved, it becomes a whole lot classier. And besides, it really is too early to blog about Christmas.
I was gonna write about that, but then decided there are more important things that need discussing:
Clay Aiken and his latest antics.
Lucky for Kelly Ripa, the producers of Live! chose Clay Aiken to be the guest host on Friday's show. Apparently he was being an ass to Kelly Ripa the entire time, gaining the confidence and prickishness he lacked as a foppish, bumbling highschooler. Take a look at this and then watch how Rosie O'Donnell and the ladies at The View got involved today.
What an outrageously gay, morning-talkshow clusterfuck this is!
This is so ridiculous, for numerous reasons:
1. Clay Aiken is a douche.
2. Isn't the fact that Rosie O'Donnell called it a "homophobic remark" declaring that Clay Aiken is gay? The irony of Rosie outing Clay whilst defending his actions is ripe.
3. Clay Aiken really is a big douche. I love how awkward he got after he realized what he did was a "no no." You can actually watch as he reverts back to his self-conscious, mousy, inner-child while trying to deflect the wrath of Ripa.
Oh, I know it's such a blogging cliche to gossip about the latest entertainment bitchfests, but when Clay Aiken is involved, it becomes a whole lot classier. And besides, it really is too early to blog about Christmas.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
2 things that are pissing me off right now.
1. The giant flies that are swarming in the hallways of our building.
These aren't your normal, everyday, nuisance flies. Oh no. These are husky, burly flies born of the devil. Fortunately, we don't have any in our apartment, just the hallway. But its annoying having to walk in your own building through hordes of these disease ridden creatures, swatting your hands in the air like a crazy crack whore on the subway. As if trudging up 5 deadly flights of slowly decaying stairs isn't enough, I now have to brave the rainforests of Burma. Great. Lets just hope that I'm not around when they pull out a dead body from 3C.
2. Rosie O'donnell's Blog.
Have you seen this? Bitch is too lazy to write in complete sentences and then masquerades her lackadaisical efforts as poetic verse. Please, you're not foolin' anyone Rosie. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy her enough, but C'mon, it's like they give a blog to just anyone nowadays.
the comments go off
a turtle back in the shell
vivi worries the tub will overflow
as i adjust the chrome handles
2 know how much
is enuf
What?! What does this mean? What are you trying to say? Are you a turtle? I don't get it, are we supposed to obey the line endings when reading this? Why do you feel the need to write '2' instead of 'to'? Does that extra character take too much of your precious time? You really had to abbreviate 'enough' to 'enuf'? Really? And there's also a thing called punctuation. Check it out. e.e. cummings you are not.
ugh. Okay. That's my rant on what's pissing me off right now. Really though, besides this, everything is going smashingly!!
life filled with hope
a racoon at night
bright eyes
bear used 2 b a
prince in a former
life
moving foward
not forgetting 2 breathe
These aren't your normal, everyday, nuisance flies. Oh no. These are husky, burly flies born of the devil. Fortunately, we don't have any in our apartment, just the hallway. But its annoying having to walk in your own building through hordes of these disease ridden creatures, swatting your hands in the air like a crazy crack whore on the subway. As if trudging up 5 deadly flights of slowly decaying stairs isn't enough, I now have to brave the rainforests of Burma. Great. Lets just hope that I'm not around when they pull out a dead body from 3C.
2. Rosie O'donnell's Blog.
Have you seen this? Bitch is too lazy to write in complete sentences and then masquerades her lackadaisical efforts as poetic verse. Please, you're not foolin' anyone Rosie. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy her enough, but C'mon, it's like they give a blog to just anyone nowadays.the comments go off
a turtle back in the shell
vivi worries the tub will overflow
as i adjust the chrome handles
2 know how much
is enuf
What?! What does this mean? What are you trying to say? Are you a turtle? I don't get it, are we supposed to obey the line endings when reading this? Why do you feel the need to write '2' instead of 'to'? Does that extra character take too much of your precious time? You really had to abbreviate 'enough' to 'enuf'? Really? And there's also a thing called punctuation. Check it out. e.e. cummings you are not.
ugh. Okay. That's my rant on what's pissing me off right now. Really though, besides this, everything is going smashingly!!
life filled with hope
a racoon at night
bright eyes
bear used 2 b a
prince in a former
life
moving foward
not forgetting 2 breathe
Thursday, November 09, 2006
dinner 11.8.06
It is not easy looking as good as I look. It takes a time, energy, and healthy wherewithal the majority of people are not ready to incorporate into their daily life. It's a damn good thing I was birthed a fantastic cook.
Fear not fellow eaters, for you too can enjoy my creative masterpiece.
Ingredients:
2 slices of white bread. (cheap white bread. none of that 'bread with grains' shit.)
1 garden burger. (this is what makes it healthy folks, no substitutions!)
1-2 swirls ketchup.
3 squirts mustard juice. (best if found from mustard bottle that has been in the refrigerator for an undetermined length of time)
1 knife glop of mayo.
lots of love.
no money. no standards.
And there you have it; a well balanced meal!
best served with Bordeaux and a DVR'd episode of Studio 60 (how ridiculous was that sassy gay bully who got pushed and then had Nate Corddry arrested? If there is one reason why this show should stay on the air, it's Sorkin's ease in writing sassy, gay bully characters.)
Well, it's 2:26 and I gots to go to bed. Good thing I can drift to sleep knowing that I blog about the important things going on in the world!
**art editor: Brian Belcinski
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
hallowDUMB
It's now November 1st. Every November 1st I make the same resolution: fuck Halloween. I shall not participate next year. This time I mean it though. Really. I'm boycotting Halloween next year.
It's pathetic--every year its the same routine:
-I think of a brilliant idea for a costume around July or August.
-I don't write it down and forget about it.
-Halloween steadily approaches and I start complaining about how I don't like it and have no costume.
-Someone convinces me to go to a Halloween party and I scrounge around for an idea.
-A brief moment occurs when I start to think, "ok, this might be fun. Maybe I do like Halloween"
-That insanity ends and I'm left hastily putting together a "costume" on the night of Halloween.
Last year I went to a party dressed as "leftovers." I wrapped myself in saran wrap. (which, by the way, is very hot and doesn't breathe). For work, my friend Nairoby and I dressed as Bert and Ernie. She looked like a sunburn and I was wearing a child's shirt from K-mart with a fake mustauche glued to my forehead. Needless to say, we did not win the prize for best costume.
This year I stole my idea for a "costume" from my insanely clever, hilarious friend John Bow. He once went to a Halloween party dressed as "an identity crisis" by putting numerous"hello my name is..." name tags with different names all over his person. I took this idea verbatim and pawned it off as my own. Maybe it was my execution, but I'm pretty sure I just confused people.
Granted, I had loads of fun coming up with different names and writing them on the name tags. Random people like Bob Wright, Tony Shaloub, and Hitler as well as names of people I went to elementary school with; Geoff Lewis and Jesse Lindon--two people I haven't thought about in years, but somehow spontaneously entered my head and, probably to their chagrin, became part of my "costume." I guess I can thank Halloween for that stroll down memory lane. I guess.
So ok, that's fine. I have a "costume", it's cheap, and easy to put together. Done and done, I'm ready to go.
Walking around New York City on Halloween is a joy. A joy similar to the joy you get from singing awful kareoke--It's fun to look at other people and silently judge them, but when it's your turn, you are embarrassed and wish to remain invisible. I walked through the streets of Soha, past the Mamma's Fried Chicken and weird Seafood place, sporting my superiorly clever "costume," walking as fast as I could to the subway.
The subway. A place full of crazies, now heightened by the fact that you can't tell them apart from the "party-goers." Thank god I was able to nestle into the semi-secluded seat next to the wall by the train-conductor door. Of course my nano wasn't working, so I couldn't retreat into my guarded world of ipod-solitude, and I had emptied my bag out in order to make room for the 4 heinekin and 2 bud lights I was contributing to the party, so I had no reading material to distract me either. Just me and everyone else; some dressed up, most not, no one talking. Being in a "costume" by yourself is awkward, people. Sure, its Halloween, so that makes it "okay," but it's still uncomfortable to sit next to some dude with stickers all over his shirt, or some girl dressed as a "Slutty Nurse" or "Slutty Stewardess" or "Slutty Darth Vader"
Seriously, all Halloween is, really, is a giant excuse for girls to look as slutty as possible. This is common knowledge, right? I don't know when it happened, but October 31st, somehow, became the day you ladies decided it was kosher to wipe away all morality, all decency, all that your mothers taught you to be good and true, and replace it with unabashed Whoredom. It's just what you do. Unless you're middle aged. If you're middle aged, you put on a crazy wig and call it a night.
I find the whole holiday just a lot of stress which ultimately leads to a party where people look at your shoddy "costume" with perplexed faces and blank stares. The best part is when your punch line, "I'm an identity crisis," is met with an "oh." In that single, monosyllabic word, all your hard work (1/2 hr and $4.25) goes swirling down the drain, forever lost in the septic tanks of confusion. The thing that made this particular party, though, was Carolyn and Kevin dressed as Heidi Klum and Tim Gunn and seeing them declare whose costume was "in" and who was "out." Carolyn gave a stunning, committed impersonation of Heidi. Kevin broke character a lot...But I guess he can be forgiven. They did not, however, "auf" my costume. Most likely it was only due to the fact that I am their friend.
All in all, it was a good time, don't get me wrong--hanging out on a roof, drinking with friends is fun, I just don't see why everyone feels the need to dress up to do so. "Just don't wear a costume" you might say in a bitchy tone, frustrated that I'm still talking about this. But that is not the answer. No, then I become the lame-o without a costume who is made to wear a wife-beater with "I'm Ugly. I wear this everyday" written on it (true story. they made costume-less people wear that). It's almost as bad and as embarrassing as being the only person at a party in costume. Almost.
No. I think I'll just boycott Halloween. It's easier that way. And this time I mean it... Next Halloween I'm going to stay home and watch FUNNY movies, not scary ones. Eat HEALTHY food, not candy, and wear a t-shirt and jeans which in NO way resembles something abstract and "clever."
It's pathetic--every year its the same routine:
-I think of a brilliant idea for a costume around July or August.
-I don't write it down and forget about it.
-Halloween steadily approaches and I start complaining about how I don't like it and have no costume.
-Someone convinces me to go to a Halloween party and I scrounge around for an idea.
-A brief moment occurs when I start to think, "ok, this might be fun. Maybe I do like Halloween"
-That insanity ends and I'm left hastily putting together a "costume" on the night of Halloween.
Last year I went to a party dressed as "leftovers." I wrapped myself in saran wrap. (which, by the way, is very hot and doesn't breathe). For work, my friend Nairoby and I dressed as Bert and Ernie. She looked like a sunburn and I was wearing a child's shirt from K-mart with a fake mustauche glued to my forehead. Needless to say, we did not win the prize for best costume.
This year I stole my idea for a "costume" from my insanely clever, hilarious friend John Bow. He once went to a Halloween party dressed as "an identity crisis" by putting numerous"hello my name is..." name tags with different names all over his person. I took this idea verbatim and pawned it off as my own. Maybe it was my execution, but I'm pretty sure I just confused people.
Granted, I had loads of fun coming up with different names and writing them on the name tags. Random people like Bob Wright, Tony Shaloub, and Hitler as well as names of people I went to elementary school with; Geoff Lewis and Jesse Lindon--two people I haven't thought about in years, but somehow spontaneously entered my head and, probably to their chagrin, became part of my "costume." I guess I can thank Halloween for that stroll down memory lane. I guess.
So ok, that's fine. I have a "costume", it's cheap, and easy to put together. Done and done, I'm ready to go.
Walking around New York City on Halloween is a joy. A joy similar to the joy you get from singing awful kareoke--It's fun to look at other people and silently judge them, but when it's your turn, you are embarrassed and wish to remain invisible. I walked through the streets of Soha, past the Mamma's Fried Chicken and weird Seafood place, sporting my superiorly clever "costume," walking as fast as I could to the subway.
The subway. A place full of crazies, now heightened by the fact that you can't tell them apart from the "party-goers." Thank god I was able to nestle into the semi-secluded seat next to the wall by the train-conductor door. Of course my nano wasn't working, so I couldn't retreat into my guarded world of ipod-solitude, and I had emptied my bag out in order to make room for the 4 heinekin and 2 bud lights I was contributing to the party, so I had no reading material to distract me either. Just me and everyone else; some dressed up, most not, no one talking. Being in a "costume" by yourself is awkward, people. Sure, its Halloween, so that makes it "okay," but it's still uncomfortable to sit next to some dude with stickers all over his shirt, or some girl dressed as a "Slutty Nurse" or "Slutty Stewardess" or "Slutty Darth Vader"
Seriously, all Halloween is, really, is a giant excuse for girls to look as slutty as possible. This is common knowledge, right? I don't know when it happened, but October 31st, somehow, became the day you ladies decided it was kosher to wipe away all morality, all decency, all that your mothers taught you to be good and true, and replace it with unabashed Whoredom. It's just what you do. Unless you're middle aged. If you're middle aged, you put on a crazy wig and call it a night.
I find the whole holiday just a lot of stress which ultimately leads to a party where people look at your shoddy "costume" with perplexed faces and blank stares. The best part is when your punch line, "I'm an identity crisis," is met with an "oh." In that single, monosyllabic word, all your hard work (1/2 hr and $4.25) goes swirling down the drain, forever lost in the septic tanks of confusion. The thing that made this particular party, though, was Carolyn and Kevin dressed as Heidi Klum and Tim Gunn and seeing them declare whose costume was "in" and who was "out." Carolyn gave a stunning, committed impersonation of Heidi. Kevin broke character a lot...But I guess he can be forgiven. They did not, however, "auf" my costume. Most likely it was only due to the fact that I am their friend.
All in all, it was a good time, don't get me wrong--hanging out on a roof, drinking with friends is fun, I just don't see why everyone feels the need to dress up to do so. "Just don't wear a costume" you might say in a bitchy tone, frustrated that I'm still talking about this. But that is not the answer. No, then I become the lame-o without a costume who is made to wear a wife-beater with "I'm Ugly. I wear this everyday" written on it (true story. they made costume-less people wear that). It's almost as bad and as embarrassing as being the only person at a party in costume. Almost.
No. I think I'll just boycott Halloween. It's easier that way. And this time I mean it... Next Halloween I'm going to stay home and watch FUNNY movies, not scary ones. Eat HEALTHY food, not candy, and wear a t-shirt and jeans which in NO way resembles something abstract and "clever."
Friday, October 27, 2006
don't judge...
As you're flipping through the channels, figuring out what to watch this Saturday night (let's be honest...you don't have any plans...) you may come across a familiar staple in late night programming: Saturday Night Live.
You may decide to watch said program, and if you do, you may notice something. Someone. "Who is that guy awkwardly dancing in a club behind Amy Poehler, Maya Rudolph, and Kristen Wiig?"
Why yes, it is true. Your eyes do not deceive you; it is I, Corey Johnson, dancing awkwardly at said "club". I just want to throw this out there: I don't like going out to clubs and dancing. Unless I'm wasted I find it painful and arduous--constantly thinking, "do I look idiotic?" But...As an actor, it was my duty to dance and I fulfilled it, but I bed you, please do not judge me; dancing to "Let's get retarded in here" at 10am is not the easiest of tasks, especially for a white boy with no funk. I tried to put on my best "sexy club face", but I think what I managed looks more like an "unsexy down syndrome face."
Most of the commercial parody takes place in an office--an environment which requires no funk and plenty of white; much more comfortable for me. If you're lucky, maybe you'll see me brush by Amy Poehler and Bill Hader. If you're really on the look out, maybe you'll see me way in the back leading "a meeting" in the conference room. In any of those scenarios I look fantastic and completely at ease.
It's just the damn club scene. I've always said that as far as background work is concerned, a club scene would be, by far, the hardest and most uncomfortably awkward experience. Clearly, the fact that it was SNL and included actors whom I believe to be comedic geniuses helped quell my graceless insecurities, but that doesn't efface the few seconds of footage that will be broadcast on national TV featuring my artless bouncing and humping.
So fair warning. Tune in on Saturday night, or not. I don't care. Just don't mock my clubbing ineptitude.
You may decide to watch said program, and if you do, you may notice something. Someone. "Who is that guy awkwardly dancing in a club behind Amy Poehler, Maya Rudolph, and Kristen Wiig?"
Why yes, it is true. Your eyes do not deceive you; it is I, Corey Johnson, dancing awkwardly at said "club". I just want to throw this out there: I don't like going out to clubs and dancing. Unless I'm wasted I find it painful and arduous--constantly thinking, "do I look idiotic?" But...As an actor, it was my duty to dance and I fulfilled it, but I bed you, please do not judge me; dancing to "Let's get retarded in here" at 10am is not the easiest of tasks, especially for a white boy with no funk. I tried to put on my best "sexy club face", but I think what I managed looks more like an "unsexy down syndrome face."
Most of the commercial parody takes place in an office--an environment which requires no funk and plenty of white; much more comfortable for me. If you're lucky, maybe you'll see me brush by Amy Poehler and Bill Hader. If you're really on the look out, maybe you'll see me way in the back leading "a meeting" in the conference room. In any of those scenarios I look fantastic and completely at ease.
It's just the damn club scene. I've always said that as far as background work is concerned, a club scene would be, by far, the hardest and most uncomfortably awkward experience. Clearly, the fact that it was SNL and included actors whom I believe to be comedic geniuses helped quell my graceless insecurities, but that doesn't efface the few seconds of footage that will be broadcast on national TV featuring my artless bouncing and humping.
So fair warning. Tune in on Saturday night, or not. I don't care. Just don't mock my clubbing ineptitude.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Like a moth to a flame, potential predators can't stay away
Ok, so I don't know about you, but my roommates and I are addicted to the Dateline NBC specials, To Catch a Predator. Let's just say thank god for DVR because what else would we have watched after we got bored with the first 15 minutes of Showtime at the Apollo?! (which, by the way, is worthy of its own blog entry. We'll see if I get around to that) For those of you who haven't seen this amazingness, you are missing out on the creepiest entertainment in television.
Basically what happens is Dateline and Perverted Justice-- a group dedicated to catching dudes who wanna do 13 year olds (it's always dudes. never women. C'mon ladies, why don't you wanna get your freak on?) pose as underage guys and gals in chatrooms and wait for lonely people with sexual issues to start talking to them...and they always do. These guys chat with the decoy about all the "sexy things" they want to do with them, and then end up coming over to the kid's house where Dateline's own Chris Hanson pops out and scares the living Jesus out of them.
Watching people being confronted with their dirty dirty secret is absurdly entertaining and joyously fascinating; as is watching a person encounter the impending doom their life is about to be enveloped in and watching as they struggle and squirm their way out, defending the fact that they traveled to some kid's house in order to touch them inappropriately.
As if being caught and labeled a pedophile on national TV isn't enough, they have to deal with Chris Hanson being a huge dick, rubbing their stupidity in their fat faces. Chris Hanson doesn't just interview them and ask them what they're doing, oh no. He is keen on debasing them as much as possible. The decoy (an actor or actress hired to play the sexy 13 yr old) ushers the plausible predator onto the patio, offering frozen lemonade and making small talk while Chris Hanson steadily waits, ready to pounce from behind a wall with some witty, condescending comment. Clever quips that rival Shakespeare.
Decoy: I'm gonna go change, but I've got a surprise for you!
Potential Predator: Oh yeah?
Chris Hanson: (snooty and complaisant) I'm probably not the surprise you were looking for...
Decoy: So how was your ride?
Potential Predator: (sipping his frozen lemonade) Oh, I missed my train first, then I missed my bus.**
Decoy: Oh no. But you got here, that's the good part.
Chris Hanson: (heroically patronizing) So you had quite the commute today, huh? Why don't you have a seat over there. Enjoying your drink?
Decoy: Hey I made you some lemonade, sit down for me. I'm gonna go change into my bathing suite.
Potential Predator: (holds arms open expressing desire for a hug)
Decoy: Hang on, you gotta be patient for that!
Potential Predator: Just a hug?
Chris Hanson: (valiant and a little gay) No hug for me?
**uh, yeah, you read right; this guy took a train, a bus, and a taxi in order to get some 13 year old lovin'. Not a fun day for him. Missing your train: 1hr of your life. Missing your bus: 2.5 hours of your life. Being caught red-handed by a national television show and arrested for the intent to have sex with a minor: Priceless.
What a fun job Chris Hanson has, no? He gets to be super douchey, armed with sexual IM transcripts and make these perverts feel as awkward as possible. He reads back what these people wrote online in a stern, matter-of-fact way that makes everyone involved feel uncomfortable and funny.
"'what is your bra size?'
'31 B, but its kind of big on me.'
'I want to kiss them'"
Hearing Chris Hanson read, "I want to kiss them" when referring to 13 year old boobs is hilarious.
It's staggering to see the amount and types of people who eagerly show up to have relations with a 13 year old stranger they meet online. Sure, there are some creepy lookin' dudes who really couldn't be anything other than a pedophile; but for the most part these guys are doctors, teachers, rabbi, computer engineers, and young professionals you wouldn't think twice about. But you should think twice about them because they are diddling their diddles while thinking of YOUR PRETEENS!
These are some of their brilliantly clever screennames they use:
Joseph_roisman2000
IamKanishk
These two are probably the cleverest of all--honestly, when stalking and preying on underage children online, you really couldn't have taken the time to come up with a screen name that didn't include your actual name?
The others are a bit more creative:
Persuasion2032
Cognizance26
Hennessy1436
xclusivelyinit
talldreamy_doc
toofast4yall2003
gross and gross.
I really just don't comprehend how people still keep doing this shit! I mean Dateline has done like 37 of these specials. Get a clue, you're not gonna get away with it. Almost half of the guys caught say something like "I knew this was gonna happen." "I was expecting this." or "Yeah, I've watched the Dateline special." And still, there they are, blue-balled by Chris Hanson and the police ready to tackle them outside. I just don't get it. There are more than enough lonely people online who are of age that would be very happy to get your attention.
Here's a little taste of what this whole thing is if you haven't seen it. This may be the best one of all, actually. This is Talldreamy_doc, a 48 year old "cancer doctor" who pretended he was 29. The best part is when the douchebag spills the lemonade and gets all angry about it. The second best part is when he's nabbed by the cops and gets all angry about it. The third best part is when he turns into a giant pussy and goes down crying.
Basically what happens is Dateline and Perverted Justice-- a group dedicated to catching dudes who wanna do 13 year olds (it's always dudes. never women. C'mon ladies, why don't you wanna get your freak on?) pose as underage guys and gals in chatrooms and wait for lonely people with sexual issues to start talking to them...and they always do. These guys chat with the decoy about all the "sexy things" they want to do with them, and then end up coming over to the kid's house where Dateline's own Chris Hanson pops out and scares the living Jesus out of them.
Watching people being confronted with their dirty dirty secret is absurdly entertaining and joyously fascinating; as is watching a person encounter the impending doom their life is about to be enveloped in and watching as they struggle and squirm their way out, defending the fact that they traveled to some kid's house in order to touch them inappropriately.
As if being caught and labeled a pedophile on national TV isn't enough, they have to deal with Chris Hanson being a huge dick, rubbing their stupidity in their fat faces. Chris Hanson doesn't just interview them and ask them what they're doing, oh no. He is keen on debasing them as much as possible. The decoy (an actor or actress hired to play the sexy 13 yr old) ushers the plausible predator onto the patio, offering frozen lemonade and making small talk while Chris Hanson steadily waits, ready to pounce from behind a wall with some witty, condescending comment. Clever quips that rival Shakespeare.
Decoy: I'm gonna go change, but I've got a surprise for you!
Potential Predator: Oh yeah?
Chris Hanson: (snooty and complaisant) I'm probably not the surprise you were looking for...
Decoy: So how was your ride?
Potential Predator: (sipping his frozen lemonade) Oh, I missed my train first, then I missed my bus.**
Decoy: Oh no. But you got here, that's the good part.
Chris Hanson: (heroically patronizing) So you had quite the commute today, huh? Why don't you have a seat over there. Enjoying your drink?
Decoy: Hey I made you some lemonade, sit down for me. I'm gonna go change into my bathing suite.
Potential Predator: (holds arms open expressing desire for a hug)
Decoy: Hang on, you gotta be patient for that!
Potential Predator: Just a hug?
Chris Hanson: (valiant and a little gay) No hug for me?
**uh, yeah, you read right; this guy took a train, a bus, and a taxi in order to get some 13 year old lovin'. Not a fun day for him. Missing your train: 1hr of your life. Missing your bus: 2.5 hours of your life. Being caught red-handed by a national television show and arrested for the intent to have sex with a minor: Priceless.
What a fun job Chris Hanson has, no? He gets to be super douchey, armed with sexual IM transcripts and make these perverts feel as awkward as possible. He reads back what these people wrote online in a stern, matter-of-fact way that makes everyone involved feel uncomfortable and funny.
"'what is your bra size?'
'31 B, but its kind of big on me.'
'I want to kiss them'"
Hearing Chris Hanson read, "I want to kiss them" when referring to 13 year old boobs is hilarious.
It's staggering to see the amount and types of people who eagerly show up to have relations with a 13 year old stranger they meet online. Sure, there are some creepy lookin' dudes who really couldn't be anything other than a pedophile; but for the most part these guys are doctors, teachers, rabbi, computer engineers, and young professionals you wouldn't think twice about. But you should think twice about them because they are diddling their diddles while thinking of YOUR PRETEENS!
These are some of their brilliantly clever screennames they use:
Joseph_roisman2000
IamKanishk
These two are probably the cleverest of all--honestly, when stalking and preying on underage children online, you really couldn't have taken the time to come up with a screen name that didn't include your actual name?
The others are a bit more creative:
Persuasion2032
Cognizance26
Hennessy1436
xclusivelyinit
talldreamy_doc
toofast4yall2003
gross and gross.
I really just don't comprehend how people still keep doing this shit! I mean Dateline has done like 37 of these specials. Get a clue, you're not gonna get away with it. Almost half of the guys caught say something like "I knew this was gonna happen." "I was expecting this." or "Yeah, I've watched the Dateline special." And still, there they are, blue-balled by Chris Hanson and the police ready to tackle them outside. I just don't get it. There are more than enough lonely people online who are of age that would be very happy to get your attention.
Here's a little taste of what this whole thing is if you haven't seen it. This may be the best one of all, actually. This is Talldreamy_doc, a 48 year old "cancer doctor" who pretended he was 29. The best part is when the douchebag spills the lemonade and gets all angry about it. The second best part is when he's nabbed by the cops and gets all angry about it. The third best part is when he turns into a giant pussy and goes down crying.
Saturday, October 07, 2006
umm...
It's 1:37 am and The Electric Slide is blaring on the streets of harlem...
ok. now its gansta rap. that's better.
ok. now its gansta rap. that's better.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
A word of advice when traveling by Greyhound Bus:
1. Pretend not to notice or care that your driver has a lazy eye.
2. Put all your belongings in the seat next to you; that way when someone walks by looking at it expectantly, you can ignore them by furiously rummaging through all your crap.
3. Don't let it bother you if an elderly couple has to sit separately because there are no 2 seats together. Don't get up and move. You deserve to sit by yourself!
4. You can't really be too upset and inconvenienced if your bus has to stop and pick up stranded passengers from another greyhound bus, disabled on the side of the highway. You can blame God, but not the stranded passengers...Most likely its not their fault.
5. Ignore the movie "Blade" that is soul-suckingly blaring on all the TVs.
6. When your bus pulls into a rest stop in Wallingford, CT (a town that last I heard still has an active KKK chapter), know that NONE of the vending machines work; so no, you can't buy a bottle of water.
7. And finally, be glad that you sprung for the extra $10 so you didn't have to take the Fung Wah...and catch asian bird flu....again.
2. Put all your belongings in the seat next to you; that way when someone walks by looking at it expectantly, you can ignore them by furiously rummaging through all your crap.
3. Don't let it bother you if an elderly couple has to sit separately because there are no 2 seats together. Don't get up and move. You deserve to sit by yourself!
4. You can't really be too upset and inconvenienced if your bus has to stop and pick up stranded passengers from another greyhound bus, disabled on the side of the highway. You can blame God, but not the stranded passengers...Most likely its not their fault.
5. Ignore the movie "Blade" that is soul-suckingly blaring on all the TVs.
6. When your bus pulls into a rest stop in Wallingford, CT (a town that last I heard still has an active KKK chapter), know that NONE of the vending machines work; so no, you can't buy a bottle of water.
7. And finally, be glad that you sprung for the extra $10 so you didn't have to take the Fung Wah...and catch asian bird flu....again.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Bringin' it back
"He looked crazy with his stupid Hitler moustache--Not that I don't support bringing the Hitler moustache back, but..."
--Courtney Lauria on Brandon Flowers, the lead singer of The Killers
--Courtney Lauria on Brandon Flowers, the lead singer of The Killers
Thursday, September 28, 2006
poor clay aiken...
I had an hour to kill before Project Runway came on last night, and lo and behold who was on Larry King Live? Clay Aiken. Perfect. An hour of hilarious entertainment prior to the entertainment that is Project Runway! I don't follow Clay's career. I really only know that one awful song:If I was invisible
Then I could just watch you in your room
If I was invincible
I'd make you mine tonight
If hearts were unbreakable
Then I can just tell you where I stand
I would be the smartest man
If I was invisible
(Wait..I already am)
Oh Clay; you and your non-gender-specific pronouns and stalker-like phrases.
From watching this Larry King interview, I've deduced that in 20 years Clay Aiken will be the new Robert Blake. Some ex-celebrity who is now back in the lime light because he cracked and killed his wife. I fear our beloved Clay is on that path.
He was talking about being depressed and having panic attacks and all that fun stuff he goes through "due to his fame". Larry asked him, "What do you think causes these panic attacks?" To which Clay replied, "I'm crazy..." Then laughed it off cuz he's "not really crazy," haha, no he's "being funny," ha, and he's "joking about it."haha....ha...... oh boy.
One of the viewer questions was something like, "Clay, how come that one song you wrote didn't end up on the album?" Clay answered the question by explaining this was the first time he ever was asked to write lyrics for a song, and he didn't really know what he was doing. He sat down and wrote this song, and he really liked it. Unfortunately "it was a little too depressing for the rest of the album." He laughed again because, see, haha "it's funny that he's depressed," haha and "it's not a serious problem or anything," nooo hahaha.. and don't worry fans, "he loves what he does."haha...ha...... ooooh boy.
the lyrics he wrote can't have been more depressing than, "if I was invisible, wait. I already am"? can they? right??? oooooh boooooy.
Good luck to ya Clay.
I think that the entertainment industry is so fucked up that if you don't have a sense of yourself and hold on to that, you are screwed. It's hard to separate who you are versus the product that these record companies and corporate executives are trying to sell. They're selling this packaged, wholesome, yet sexy, good Christian boy image that lets 40 year old housewives and their closeted sons fantasize over him sans guilt.
It's a lot of pressure, sure. But this is your life Clay Aiken!! If you aren't happy doing what you get paid millions of dollars to do, you got to be strong and stand up for what you want and what you believe to be true! You are NOT invisible! NO! Let your voice be heard, Clay! Sing Out! Loud and Proud!
Ok. That's about all the energy I'm willing to exert into dissecting the life of Clay Aiken. I've done my part; now I can sit back and laugh without feeling guilty as Kathy Griffin makes fun of how his concerts are the gayest thing on earth.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Is this racist?
When I was in elementary school, all the 5th graders went to a place called Nature's Classroom. "Nature's Classroom is a unique educational experience for students and their teachers, offering the very best in environmental education." Translation: you leave school and go to sleepover camp for 5 days, dissect things and play games in the woods. It was pretty rad if you ask me.
Now I haven't thought about Nature's Classroom in the longest time. Until this weekend that is. I was at my friend Kate's cabin in Moosup, CT when my memory was sparked. It was dark, and a group of us were blindly making our way through the the woods back towards the cabin, desperately trying not to sprain an ankle or run into a barbed wire fence of some sort. I made an off-color comment to my friend Mike along the lines of, "wow, this must have been what it was like to be a slave in the underground railroad" and all of a sudden my memory was sparked: the Nature's Classroom people made us play a game called RUNAWAY SLAVE.
I shit you not. Did anybody experience this? Any Hebron Ave Elementary School alumni out there?
I had completely forgotten about this peculiar activity until that moment, but oh, how the memories came flooding back. The counselors at this "educational retreat" split all of us up into small groups, "families" if you will, told us that we had just escaped and were running to freedom and sent us off into the woods to hide. These counselors, probably in their early twenties, were the "bounty hunters" and came after us. It was kind of like Hide and Seek, except when a Bounty Hunter found you, you could stand still and be "invisible" to them--the theory behind this was since we were pretending that our skin matched the blackness of the night, we were able blend in seamlessly...As long as we didn't move and kept our eyes closed. The other details are semi-fuzzy. I remember some sort of jail, and there must have been a home base of sorts--a Harriet Tubman house or Mason Dixon line--not really sure. I also vaguely remember the bounty hunters carrying big sticks.
I can't tell if a bunch of very white, very middle class 5th graders running through the woods pretending to be slaves is ridiculous or ridiculously awesome. I mean, they didn't put us in black face or anything, and to my recollection no one dropped the N-bomb. There was some definite role playing though. When a bounty hunter captured you, they were not friendly. Oh no. They played their role the best they legally could: making you crawl on the frozen ground, or stand silently in the jail until you were rescued. It was loads of fun. I'm fairly certain we convinced them to let us play it again at the end of the week.
I took a little trip back to Nature's Classroom via the internet and whilst tooling around I was surprised at a) how out of date the pictures are and b) how they now call this wonderful game The Underground Railroad. Is this their attempt at being more PC? Now, its possible this was the name of the game all along. Maybe I'm merely projecting the more inappropriate title upon my memory in order to create a more interesting blog entry, but I really don't think so. I'm pretty sure they called it Runaway Slave.
Now I haven't thought about Nature's Classroom in the longest time. Until this weekend that is. I was at my friend Kate's cabin in Moosup, CT when my memory was sparked. It was dark, and a group of us were blindly making our way through the the woods back towards the cabin, desperately trying not to sprain an ankle or run into a barbed wire fence of some sort. I made an off-color comment to my friend Mike along the lines of, "wow, this must have been what it was like to be a slave in the underground railroad" and all of a sudden my memory was sparked: the Nature's Classroom people made us play a game called RUNAWAY SLAVE.
I shit you not. Did anybody experience this? Any Hebron Ave Elementary School alumni out there?
I had completely forgotten about this peculiar activity until that moment, but oh, how the memories came flooding back. The counselors at this "educational retreat" split all of us up into small groups, "families" if you will, told us that we had just escaped and were running to freedom and sent us off into the woods to hide. These counselors, probably in their early twenties, were the "bounty hunters" and came after us. It was kind of like Hide and Seek, except when a Bounty Hunter found you, you could stand still and be "invisible" to them--the theory behind this was since we were pretending that our skin matched the blackness of the night, we were able blend in seamlessly...As long as we didn't move and kept our eyes closed. The other details are semi-fuzzy. I remember some sort of jail, and there must have been a home base of sorts--a Harriet Tubman house or Mason Dixon line--not really sure. I also vaguely remember the bounty hunters carrying big sticks.
I can't tell if a bunch of very white, very middle class 5th graders running through the woods pretending to be slaves is ridiculous or ridiculously awesome. I mean, they didn't put us in black face or anything, and to my recollection no one dropped the N-bomb. There was some definite role playing though. When a bounty hunter captured you, they were not friendly. Oh no. They played their role the best they legally could: making you crawl on the frozen ground, or stand silently in the jail until you were rescued. It was loads of fun. I'm fairly certain we convinced them to let us play it again at the end of the week.
I took a little trip back to Nature's Classroom via the internet and whilst tooling around I was surprised at a) how out of date the pictures are and b) how they now call this wonderful game The Underground Railroad. Is this their attempt at being more PC? Now, its possible this was the name of the game all along. Maybe I'm merely projecting the more inappropriate title upon my memory in order to create a more interesting blog entry, but I really don't think so. I'm pretty sure they called it Runaway Slave.
Bravo to Nature's Classroom for bringing suburban white kids one step closer to understanding the struggle and history of the African American slave.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Tony Blair to resign as Prime Minister within a year
In a resignation letter of his own, Tom Watson, a junior defense minister had this to say to Blair:
"It is with the greatest sadness that I have to say that I no longer believe
that your remaining in office is in the interest of either the party or the
country. I share the view of the overwhelming majority of the party and the
country that the only way the party and the government can renew itself in
office is urgently to renew its leadership."
In response to Former Junior Defense Minister Tom Watson's letter to Prime Minister Tony Blair, I shall write an open letter to Former Junior Defense Minister Tom Watson:
Dear Former Junior Defense Minister Tom Watson:
So, you wanna come over here and write a letter to our president? You don't even have to write a new letter, you can just change
around some names in the one you already wrote. If you're too busy, or whatever, I can change it around for you. I just don't have a fancy title like you do, so if I wrote a letter, I don't think anyone important (the president) would read it. Unlike you, I don't think he reads my blog, so I can't rely on that as a means to reach him. Let me know what your thoughts are on this issue. We could use your persuasive influence.
Sincerely,
Sir Corey W. Johnson (I'm not really a sir....I just added it for effect)
I'll let you all know when he responds to me!!
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Endorsements
I, Corey Johnson, as editor-in-chief/CEO/President/and Lord High Priestess of Umm...i didn't know i was starting a blog, would like to endorse the following things:
REBECCA DRYSDALE: One Woman in Several Pieces
Named by Variety as one of "the top 10 comics to watch" this woman is making waves. At least I think so. Her show is a mix of several vignettes that range in style from low-brow sketch, to limit-pushing, issue driven satire. The conglomeration of material gives a sense of who this young comedian is, and what she has to say. With songs titled, "when can we make fun of 9/11" and a rap comprised solely from 3 words--one of which being 'nigga', this show puts issues on the table people normally shy away from. Drysdale forces her audience to look at what makes them uncomfortable and dissect it a new light--a comedic light. I believe laughter is a common denominator between people, so what better way to discuss and examine issues that affect us all?
Rebecca Drysdale: one woman in several pieces
plays at the UCB Theater for only one more performance.
This Friday, August 25th at 8pm, $8
www.ucbtheater.com
LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE
Go see this movie. That's really all there is to it. One of the best films of the year, it is a heartwarming, hilarious, story that is superbly written with across-the-board brilliant, touching performances. Toni Collette, Steve Carell, Greg Kinnear, Paul Dano, Abigail Breslin, and Alan Arkin = magic. Cinematic magic.
I don't know how many theaters it is playing in right now, but it is worth the research and a 2 hour drive. Yes...A 2 hour drive...Even with the price of gas.
HUMMUS
OK. So i know that hummus is no secret and nothing new...In fact I've been eating for years. But its so god damn good people, i must endorse it. If you have never had hummus, A. i would like to know who you are. And B. Please go out and buy it. i suggest Tribe of Two Shields Roasted Red Pepper or (my newly found favorite) Scallion. Goes best with wheat thins. Seriously, its the perfect snack--or in some cases, breakfast.
REGINA SPEKTOR'S 'BEGIN TO HOPE'
If I was crafty and blogger-savvy enough, I would figure out a way to upload some sample songs so you could hear the magnificence of this album. Its quirky, folky, poetic, bold and diverse. Go to her Myspace page and take a gander. Can you take a gander at music? I don't really know what the phrase 'take a gander' actually means...disregard. Listen to the album. ALSO she is playing here in NYC at Town Hall on September 27th--who wants to go?? More importantly, who will buy my ticket??
NOW FOR SOME THINGS THIS BLOG DOES NOT ENDORSE:
Paris Hilton's new self-titled album
I haven't listened to this. I don't ever really want to. And I don't think we should add to this ho's wallet by shelling out $10 on itunes to listen to her try to sound sexy.
"I, like, cry, when I listen to it, it's so good." She says talking up her debut album, Paris, to Blender magazine.
So do we Paris. so. do. we.
THIS KID IN MY OFFICE
For annonyminity (sp?) sake, I'm using this stick figure in lieu of an actual photograph.
He totally snubbed me just now when i was walking to the bathroom. As I opened the door to the stairwell i said, "Hey, how's it goin'?" He looked me up and down and kept on walking completely ignoring my very casual, benevolent greeting. Ew. Who do you think you are? done and done. i DO NOT endorse him
REBECCA DRYSDALE: One Woman in Several Pieces
Named by Variety as one of "the top 10 comics to watch" this woman is making waves. At least I think so. Her show is a mix of several vignettes that range in style from low-brow sketch, to limit-pushing, issue driven satire. The conglomeration of material gives a sense of who this young comedian is, and what she has to say. With songs titled, "when can we make fun of 9/11" and a rap comprised solely from 3 words--one of which being 'nigga', this show puts issues on the table people normally shy away from. Drysdale forces her audience to look at what makes them uncomfortable and dissect it a new light--a comedic light. I believe laughter is a common denominator between people, so what better way to discuss and examine issues that affect us all?
Rebecca Drysdale: one woman in several pieces
plays at the UCB Theater for only one more performance.
This Friday, August 25th at 8pm, $8
www.ucbtheater.com
LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE
Go see this movie. That's really all there is to it. One of the best films of the year, it is a heartwarming, hilarious, story that is superbly written with across-the-board brilliant, touching performances. Toni Collette, Steve Carell, Greg Kinnear, Paul Dano, Abigail Breslin, and Alan Arkin = magic. Cinematic magic.
I don't know how many theaters it is playing in right now, but it is worth the research and a 2 hour drive. Yes...A 2 hour drive...Even with the price of gas.
HUMMUS
OK. So i know that hummus is no secret and nothing new...In fact I've been eating for years. But its so god damn good people, i must endorse it. If you have never had hummus, A. i would like to know who you are. And B. Please go out and buy it. i suggest Tribe of Two Shields Roasted Red Pepper or (my newly found favorite) Scallion. Goes best with wheat thins. Seriously, its the perfect snack--or in some cases, breakfast.
REGINA SPEKTOR'S 'BEGIN TO HOPE'
If I was crafty and blogger-savvy enough, I would figure out a way to upload some sample songs so you could hear the magnificence of this album. Its quirky, folky, poetic, bold and diverse. Go to her Myspace page and take a gander. Can you take a gander at music? I don't really know what the phrase 'take a gander' actually means...disregard. Listen to the album. ALSO she is playing here in NYC at Town Hall on September 27th--who wants to go?? More importantly, who will buy my ticket??
NOW FOR SOME THINGS THIS BLOG DOES NOT ENDORSE:
Paris Hilton's new self-titled album
I haven't listened to this. I don't ever really want to. And I don't think we should add to this ho's wallet by shelling out $10 on itunes to listen to her try to sound sexy.
"I, like, cry, when I listen to it, it's so good." She says talking up her debut album, Paris, to Blender magazine.
So do we Paris. so. do. we.
THIS KID IN MY OFFICE
For annonyminity (sp?) sake, I'm using this stick figure in lieu of an actual photograph.
He totally snubbed me just now when i was walking to the bathroom. As I opened the door to the stairwell i said, "Hey, how's it goin'?" He looked me up and down and kept on walking completely ignoring my very casual, benevolent greeting. Ew. Who do you think you are? done and done. i DO NOT endorse him
Thursday, August 17, 2006
brilliance
Sometimes when I feel the need to update this thing, but have nothing specific to say, I just start writing and something magically appears. We all know how that turns out: Random ass ramblings and Google images of Father Time....oh boy. This post will not turn out that way. No. This uninspired rant will be brilliant. It will change the way you think about your meaningless life. It will give meaning to the way you think. I might go so far as to say it will be gold. Pure. Orgasmic. Fart-ripping gold.
are you ready?
I'm gonna go ahead and answer that for you: I don't think you are. I don't think you're ready for what is about to astound you. I don't think you are nearly in the right frame of mind to laugh as hard as you will laugh, or to shed the salty tears you will cry. My words will seep deep into your black soul and enrich it with bursts of colors unimaginable to the petty human eye. Will you be able to handle that? I don't know. That's not for me to decide. What I do know is that I will touch you. I will touch you in places you haven't been touched in for quite some time--those dark, trenchy places you've been waiting for someone to unlock for years upon years. This blog holds the key--are you willing to open that endless treasure of suppressed emotion?
You and your pessimism. Don't think I don't know what you're saying, "What treasure is he talking about?" "This is weird." and "Can I ever get this time back?" Go fuck yourself. With a pitchfork. You people and your lies. You disgust me.
I'm sorry. That....that was uncalled for. Please keep reading. I promise you the most glorious, awe-inspiring, sensational reward you can imagine. What you are about to read will affect you in a way that makes God looking you in the eye telling you your His most glorious creation seem as impressive as a used condom lying limply on the floor. Still don't believe me? Fine. I'll tell you something though--the people who read the first draft of what you are about to read were blown away. They were heard saying things like, "My life now has clarity and purpose" and "This blog entry should be considered the most important piece of post-civil war literature in the American cannon"
I don't want to build it up too much. We all know what its like when you have high expectations that aren't met. Wait. Hahaha. Who am I kidding? I don't have to worry about that. My brilliance knows no un-met expectations. I could be a blind, limbless oaf typing with my tongue and create something that would be taught in 9th grade english classes for centuries...Nay...MILLENNIA. That's right, my tongue has more talent than your "published" name or your "inspired and creative" heart. Oh, I feel sad for you. When I think about you and all that you aren't doing with your life, it almost makes me want to weep--if I actually cared, perhaps I would be shedding actual tears...But I don't, so I remain dry. Oh, how I wish I could share even just the slenderest slice of my burgeoning talent. If I could package it up with a crisply tied bow and give it to you for your birthday--I would. I'm generous like that. But much like love, happiness, and gut-renching jealousy, talent is intangible--so you shall remain talentless, for I cannot break some of mine off and feed it to you.
I can only hope you have mentally prepared yourself for this, the second coming of Christ (in blog form). By reading this you have legally agreed that ummm....i didn't know i was starting a blog or any of its contributors shall have no accountability or hold any responsibility for any and all consequences of its forthcoming magnificence. In layman's terms--if your brain explodes from me blowin' your mind--I ain't payin' for the cleaners.
And finally, before we depart towards the heaven that is this entry--try to use your upcoming, new found wisdom for good. Let these words be a mirror in which you can hold up to yourself to see the inner beauty that resides deep, deep, deep inside you. Buried way down in there under all those layers of ugly. It's a tiny glimmer which I shall help illuminate and foster into a radiating beam of perfection shining with the intensity of the sun.
You should be ready.
Here we go.
There is no stopping it now.
PREPARE YE!!!!!!!
ahem...
ok....
alright. lets see....
OK:
Today for lunch I had 1/2 of a leftover burritto. I got it last night and only ate half so i could have the other 1/2 today for lunch. I wanted to eat the whole thing---
Ok. wait. that's no good. ok. wow. ha. Its harder to rock your mind than I thought it would be, ya know?...
OK. I'm warmed up now. Let us try this again:
Sometimes i sit here at work and think, "wow, i really have to go to pee...But i just went like five minutes ago." Isn't that funny...?
Alright. Ya know what?!
Clearly I am subconsciously not letting my genius be wasted on you. ha. I should have known. You talentless hacks are draining me. I'm gonna go--you'll have to resign yourself to a life sans my life-changing masterpiece.
are you ready?
I'm gonna go ahead and answer that for you: I don't think you are. I don't think you're ready for what is about to astound you. I don't think you are nearly in the right frame of mind to laugh as hard as you will laugh, or to shed the salty tears you will cry. My words will seep deep into your black soul and enrich it with bursts of colors unimaginable to the petty human eye. Will you be able to handle that? I don't know. That's not for me to decide. What I do know is that I will touch you. I will touch you in places you haven't been touched in for quite some time--those dark, trenchy places you've been waiting for someone to unlock for years upon years. This blog holds the key--are you willing to open that endless treasure of suppressed emotion?
You and your pessimism. Don't think I don't know what you're saying, "What treasure is he talking about?" "This is weird." and "Can I ever get this time back?" Go fuck yourself. With a pitchfork. You people and your lies. You disgust me.
I'm sorry. That....that was uncalled for. Please keep reading. I promise you the most glorious, awe-inspiring, sensational reward you can imagine. What you are about to read will affect you in a way that makes God looking you in the eye telling you your His most glorious creation seem as impressive as a used condom lying limply on the floor. Still don't believe me? Fine. I'll tell you something though--the people who read the first draft of what you are about to read were blown away. They were heard saying things like, "My life now has clarity and purpose" and "This blog entry should be considered the most important piece of post-civil war literature in the American cannon"
I don't want to build it up too much. We all know what its like when you have high expectations that aren't met. Wait. Hahaha. Who am I kidding? I don't have to worry about that. My brilliance knows no un-met expectations. I could be a blind, limbless oaf typing with my tongue and create something that would be taught in 9th grade english classes for centuries...Nay...MILLENNIA. That's right, my tongue has more talent than your "published" name or your "inspired and creative" heart. Oh, I feel sad for you. When I think about you and all that you aren't doing with your life, it almost makes me want to weep--if I actually cared, perhaps I would be shedding actual tears...But I don't, so I remain dry. Oh, how I wish I could share even just the slenderest slice of my burgeoning talent. If I could package it up with a crisply tied bow and give it to you for your birthday--I would. I'm generous like that. But much like love, happiness, and gut-renching jealousy, talent is intangible--so you shall remain talentless, for I cannot break some of mine off and feed it to you.
I can only hope you have mentally prepared yourself for this, the second coming of Christ (in blog form). By reading this you have legally agreed that ummm....i didn't know i was starting a blog or any of its contributors shall have no accountability or hold any responsibility for any and all consequences of its forthcoming magnificence. In layman's terms--if your brain explodes from me blowin' your mind--I ain't payin' for the cleaners.
And finally, before we depart towards the heaven that is this entry--try to use your upcoming, new found wisdom for good. Let these words be a mirror in which you can hold up to yourself to see the inner beauty that resides deep, deep, deep inside you. Buried way down in there under all those layers of ugly. It's a tiny glimmer which I shall help illuminate and foster into a radiating beam of perfection shining with the intensity of the sun.
You should be ready.
Here we go.
There is no stopping it now.
PREPARE YE!!!!!!!
ahem...
ok....
alright. lets see....
OK:
Today for lunch I had 1/2 of a leftover burritto. I got it last night and only ate half so i could have the other 1/2 today for lunch. I wanted to eat the whole thing---
Ok. wait. that's no good. ok. wow. ha. Its harder to rock your mind than I thought it would be, ya know?...
OK. I'm warmed up now. Let us try this again:
Sometimes i sit here at work and think, "wow, i really have to go to pee...But i just went like five minutes ago." Isn't that funny...?
Alright. Ya know what?!
Clearly I am subconsciously not letting my genius be wasted on you. ha. I should have known. You talentless hacks are draining me. I'm gonna go--you'll have to resign yourself to a life sans my life-changing masterpiece.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
It's awkward when...
You say "you're welcome" to someone and then realize they never said "Thank you" to begin with.
It seems to happen to me at work alot--as I'm hanging up with a customer, I automatically say "you're welcome" after they have said "have a nice day" or "ok, bye". I hang up quickly so the awkward moment doesn't linger.
Ya know what though? these people SHOULD say 'Thank You.' It's common courtesy.
Next time, I'm just going to keep repeating "You're welcome....ahem....You're welcome...you. are. welcome" until they finally say "thank you", and then hang up. Yeah. That'll be super awkward...but worth it.
It seems to happen to me at work alot--as I'm hanging up with a customer, I automatically say "you're welcome" after they have said "have a nice day" or "ok, bye". I hang up quickly so the awkward moment doesn't linger.
Ya know what though? these people SHOULD say 'Thank You.' It's common courtesy.
Next time, I'm just going to keep repeating "You're welcome....ahem....You're welcome...you. are. welcome" until they finally say "thank you", and then hang up. Yeah. That'll be super awkward...but worth it.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Fat Kid Series--Part 2
In this next installment of "Corey Johnson: Growing up fat" we shall explore the effects of parental abuse. I'm not talking about dateline-style parental abuse--although this one incident was caught on tape, Stone Phillips was not there.
There is a certain home video circa 1986-87 that still, to this day, makes me cry. (ok. I'm being overly dramatic. I don't cry....anymore....)
In this video, in which my mom is the camera-person, you see my plump, 4-ft body trying to do a somersault. That's right folks, a somersault. There ain't nothing funnier than a fat kid trying to flip his body over onto the uncushioned carpet of the living room floor. Gut hanging out, sweatpant elastic stretched to its limits--hilarious, right? Apparently my mom thought so--as I'm breaking a sweat, trying to get the momentum to plop over, my mom shouts words of encouragement through her laughter, "C'mon Fatso! Get that rump over!"
Come on fat-so. Get that rump over.
Thanks mom.**
I think I was too involved with the efforts of being physical to actually hear what she said at the time--but that was not the case when I was watching home videos with friends about 7 years later. As a very self-conscious 11 yr old, stumbling across this video amongst my peers was devastating. I tried laughing it off, but as my friends cackled away and demanded the clip be rewound, the facade that was my jovial laughter could not hold back the roaring river of pathetic, emotional tears. I probably made it to the bathroom in time so my friends didn't see me openly weep--but I'm sure they were on to me. Between awkwardly hiding my face as I rushed to the bathroom and then coming back with all red and puffy, they probably figured it out. Ugh, why was I so lame as a kid?
**A word on my mom:
Mary LOVES me. I don't care that she ridiculed me and called out my inabilities while catching it all on tape. I don't care that she, with a single phrase, stunted my emotional growth. I'm ok with it. really, I am.....(runs to bathroom to hide tears)
No, I'm totes JKing (Mom, if you're reading this--that is the hip terminology for 'totally just kidding'. It's what the kids are sayin' now a days) My mom is the best and much cooler than yours---so she can call me whatever she wants. Besides...She was fat too.
In conclusion, I would like to sum up my feelings on this situation using this clip from Family Guy:
There is a certain home video circa 1986-87 that still, to this day, makes me cry. (ok. I'm being overly dramatic. I don't cry....anymore....)
In this video, in which my mom is the camera-person, you see my plump, 4-ft body trying to do a somersault. That's right folks, a somersault. There ain't nothing funnier than a fat kid trying to flip his body over onto the uncushioned carpet of the living room floor. Gut hanging out, sweatpant elastic stretched to its limits--hilarious, right? Apparently my mom thought so--as I'm breaking a sweat, trying to get the momentum to plop over, my mom shouts words of encouragement through her laughter, "C'mon Fatso! Get that rump over!"
Come on fat-so. Get that rump over.
Thanks mom.**
I think I was too involved with the efforts of being physical to actually hear what she said at the time--but that was not the case when I was watching home videos with friends about 7 years later. As a very self-conscious 11 yr old, stumbling across this video amongst my peers was devastating. I tried laughing it off, but as my friends cackled away and demanded the clip be rewound, the facade that was my jovial laughter could not hold back the roaring river of pathetic, emotional tears. I probably made it to the bathroom in time so my friends didn't see me openly weep--but I'm sure they were on to me. Between awkwardly hiding my face as I rushed to the bathroom and then coming back with all red and puffy, they probably figured it out. Ugh, why was I so lame as a kid?
**A word on my mom:
Mary LOVES me. I don't care that she ridiculed me and called out my inabilities while catching it all on tape. I don't care that she, with a single phrase, stunted my emotional growth. I'm ok with it. really, I am.....(runs to bathroom to hide tears)
No, I'm totes JKing (Mom, if you're reading this--that is the hip terminology for 'totally just kidding'. It's what the kids are sayin' now a days) My mom is the best and much cooler than yours---so she can call me whatever she wants. Besides...She was fat too.
In conclusion, I would like to sum up my feelings on this situation using this clip from Family Guy:
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Reason Global Warming Sucks #53
It's hot out.
Like shiv-ya-in-the-groin, piss-on-your-face hot.
Now they say this heat wave has "ended", but i don't believe them. no. no, when i can sit in my livingroom without getting swamp-ass, THEN we shall declare the heat wave over.
i'm just sayin'
Like shiv-ya-in-the-groin, piss-on-your-face hot.
Now they say this heat wave has "ended", but i don't believe them. no. no, when i can sit in my livingroom without getting swamp-ass, THEN we shall declare the heat wave over.
i'm just sayin'
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
