One Day At A Time

The Rangers were ousted from the Stanley Cup Playoffs (Round ONE! %#*@#&#%) on Tuesday night. And now I'm focusing on healing. I'm healing. Things will be better next year, right? Right. Next year. Everything will be coming up Milhouse next year.

In the meantime, I'm finding it very therapeutic to laugh at others. First up? Cleveland:

And then this one:

God, I feel better already.

Fun

My friend Ryan Conner and I have started playing a new super-fun game. It's called "Hipster, Asian or Asian Hipster".

Here's how you play (it helps if you're in NYC) - you see someone on the street or in the Subway who is dressed so hilariously/ridiculously/disgustingly absurd, that you are torn between wanting to laugh in their face or punch them repeatedly in the stomach for looking so retarded on purpose. Then, you text all the components of their outfit to whomever you're playing with. Then - they have to guess if that walking affront to all that is pure and true is A.) A hipster, B.) An Asian or C.) An Asian hipster. Oooooh! It's fun! For example, this morning I sent Ryan the following description:

"Green and yellow hair, horn-rimmed glasses, large plaid coat and galoshes over black jeans."

Hipster!!!! Oh, we DO have fun.

Here Comes The Friend-Ship, Sailing YOUR Way!

So my friends have been kicking a little arse lately, and shame on me for not mentioning it. First - the marathoners:

My friends Sara and Matt have recently finished the Rome and Boston Marathons, respectively. Which is unbelievably impressive to me, as I probably couldn't be in worse shape right now if I ate butter lambs all day long. 26.2 miles is no easy feat, and they each also raised money for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, and for Habitat for Humanity. I couldn't be prouder of them. Congratulations Matty and Hooch!!!!

This past weekend there was a surprise party for my friend Tim, and so a bunch of my friends from college and I made our way to Danbury, CT to celebrate. As usual, it was awesome to see these guys, as it's usually only once or twice a year that most of us can get together. While at the party, my friend Townley and his girlfriend Lisa asked me if I thought it was appropriate to use the phrase "vag juice" on a first date. Allegedly Lisa said it on her first date with Townley, and while it obviously didn't have any adverse effect on their future as a couple, he maintained that it's a pretty ridiculous thing to say to someone you just met. I would argue that it's just as unwelcome at a friend's 30th birthday party, surrounded by said friend's family and coworkers. But I digress.

The reason I'm delighted that Townley and Lisa brought the whole thing up? "Vag Juice" of course left me trying to think of a suitable male equivalent, and I landed on "penis brittle". Which, for obvious (and infantile) reasons, has tickled me greatly for 4 days straight now. Penis brittle. God, that's good.

But all the hilarious puns in the world cannot protect us from the incendiary views of the newest incarnation of Jerry Falwell. Hold me:

Wow. That baby has some really strong opinions on gays and foreigners.

Finally

It had to be done eventually, my friend Ryan and I are just mad that we weren't the ones to do it. Please do enjoy.

So I was at the Dave Matthews Band concert at Madison Square Garden last night, and it's becoming increasingly obvious that I don't fit in at Dave Matthews Band concerts. First of all - the smell of weed turns my stomach. It just does. I'm a pansy that way - but I've only ever smoked 3 times in my life,and each time was a bit of a disaster. 2 of those times resulted in me throwing up, and the last time resulted in my freaking out at a Northern Virginia IHOP and then sleeping for 13 hours. I guess it's just not for me. (Or else I'm an uber-square. Take your pick)

So of course within the first 5 minutes after Dave Matthews appeared onstage the entirety of the Garden was encased in a thick cloud of smoke and - more alarmingly - hippies. Everywhere I looked there were people dancing in the aisles to some rhythm that didn't match up with the song, and there was a girl seated behind us who had a crown on her head. A crown. How did that happen? Was she about to head out the door to head to the concert when she stopped and thought, "I'm almost ready....one more accessory should do it..." Moron.

Dave Matthews also tends to "jam" a lot. They'll finish their song, or what I know their song to be, but that won't be the end. They'll continue playing for another 10-20 minutes. And everyone except me loves it. I'm impatient - I don't want to hear you play the same 5 chords on your guitar while you sway in front of the saxophonist who is in turn just tooting away in front of the drummer who is just banging away with a big smile on his face. I get the feeling that none of them really know what's going on, and so they just keep playing until one of them remembers that they've been playing the same melody for 16 minutes and that maybe they should pick a new song. That's right, DMB - I'm on to you.

It would probably help if I was high.

Kids Are A Lot Of Work

My friend Anne-Marie was in NYC for a wedding this past weekend. It was great to see Anne-Marie, as she moved back to Dublin a couple years back, and visits are few and far between. Also because she's got 4 kids, and it's hard to travel with 4 kids.

She came by herself this weekend, leaving the kids with her husand. Sunday, we were walking around Manhattan when Tom, Anne-Marie's husband, called. He put the second-oldest, Jack, on the phone, and these were Anne-Marie's exact words to her son: "What did he put up your nose?!" I just thought that was the greatest conversation starter ever, so I laughed and laughed and got a hysterectomy and then laughed some more. Kids be crazy.

New York Comedy Friends and Family and Loved Ones and Acquaintances: I'll be performing Tuesday May 12th at Gotham Comedy Club at 8pm. Industry Showcase - at the very least the two guys who own Gotham will be there, so I need to do well. And of course, I need to bring some people. Will you be those people?

I'm going back to Buffalo this weekend for Easter. My family doesn't actually celebrate Easter, so much as use it as an excuse to go to the Red Lobster. But I'm sure even Jesus would kill for their cheesy bread, so it's cool. Would he also kill for a $5 footlong?

Of course not. That's ignorant.

Piss on Eddie Shore! Piss on Old Time Hockey!!!

"Slap Shot". Probably my favorite sports movie of all time. If you haven't seen it - you should. Made back in the 70s, when movies were still rife with politically incorrect dialogue and characters. And the three greatest characters from the movie were the Hanson Brothers - three mouth-breathing, bespectacled GOONS who made a mockery of the sport every time they got out on the ice. They were just wonderful.

And now, Dave Hanson's son Christian has signed with the Toronto Maple Leafs!! Which, I dunno - is AWESOME!! Christian is 6'4" and well over 200 lbs., which makes him perfect goon size. So while I'm sure he isn't going to play like his Dad did for the Chiefs (and I'm sure his Dad wasn't that ridiculous in real life), it still has me happier than I should rightly be.

Hanson Brothers!