The Self-Abasement Tapes
An Atlanta comedian's blog.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Bombing at Lenny's
If there's one place you'd think a retarded Jesus bit would work it'd be Lenny's. And at a show called "Avant Garde Comedy." But the 2 black women up front seemed to turn on me after it. That left the 3 white comics at the back and the 2 black comics by the door. One of them laughed but seemed to be on the phone at the time.
But hey, I played Atlanta's most iconic punk bar. And offended people.
One, Two, Fuck You!
Monday, May 29, 2006
It’s Veintinueve de Mayo
Guest Set By Leonard Sharing
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Australia's Sphere of Influence Flows Clockwise
"Several hundred Australian commandos landed Thursday in the tiny Indian Ocean nation of East Timor to try to quell escalating fighting in an ethnic dispute involving the country's armed forces and police."
East Timor's capital is Dili--a city of 150,000 surrounded by two vegetables and your choice of roll or cornbread.
As of May 29, 1999 Wendy and Tom enjoyed the "upscale" cafeteria decor.
Prices may have changed.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Up to Code
So Comedy Central’s looking for 1 to 5 minute pilots for potential web series?
Safe For Work--
A topless, foulmouthed OSHA inspector’s hilarious fights for workplace safety.
“Shit. Illegal occupational hazards make my tits itch!”
Not Safe For Work.
Now to find an actress.
And a camera.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Reporter on the Holocene
Among the free newspaper racks at the Peachtree branch of the Atlanta-Fulton Public Library is a fairly new entry titled the Epoch Times. Why would a modestly sized, 16-page broadsheet set itself the Herculean task of covering such a large unit of geologic time? And as a weekly? Why the next faunal stage alone could take several Vols. not to mention Nos. I’d go to quarterly at most, with maybe a summer movie preview.
But turns out, Epoch Times is the pro-Falun Gong, anti-communist China paper whose reporter recently heckled China’s President--Hu Jintao? He Jintao!--at the White House.
Should you pick up a copy, be sure to try the uniquely challenging English-as-a-second-language crossword puzzle filled with 2 and 3 letter answers that turn out to be abbreviations of the clue. (56 Across Clue: Calorie. Answer: CAL)
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Saturday, May 13, 2006
A Guy Into Scat's Sycophant
Nobody blends the erotic and the excretory like you. NOBODY!
A lot of guys try one Dirty Sanchez and start to think they’re something, but they ain’t mierda.
All others are poseurs but your defecation ain’t no affectation.
You’re No. 1 of fuckin’ with No. 2.
The Titanic of Cleveland Steamers. And by that I mean the biggest of all passenger steamships not a colossal disaster.
You’re the top of the Glass Bottom Boat.
Why, if you’re not the best at Coprophagia I’ll eat shit.
You are the Scat Man!
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Stream of Self-Consciousness
They’ll notice the hair on my arms…
That time in sophomore lit. when the word of the day was hirsute and I shrank into my sleeves as much as I could while Jenny Khala stared at me. “I’m cold” I said with that ugly, low voice I get when I forget to force it up an octave or they’ll think I’m a dyke or a 60 year old chain-smoker who never finished school ‘cause her arms caught on fire when a lit butt fell in ‘em…
That Saturday at Ross trying to find a long-sleeve shirt you can wear in the summer without sweating. "Achem, I burn easily,” I said with that Lesbo phlegm gurgling underneath. That clerk probably doesn’t sweat. She smells like strawberry lip gloss. I smell like Mentholyptus and Nair…
If I move my desk further away from Jenny will Matt thing I’m moving closer to him? Maybe I can just slouch some more…
That choir concert at the nursing home. Singing “Jump down, turn around, pick a bail of cotton” with stupid choreography. That bald women staring. Probably thought I could use some chemo on my arms. That old man looking at his respirator. Probably checking it for lint…
That night in the bath trying to shave my arms. Left cuts like I tried to kill myself but slit the wrong side. I bet Jenny Khala could kill herself with one ladylike slit to each wrist and then lie in a Bubble Yum bubble bath and die while still pretty enough for an open casket and a black, sleeveless top. I’d look like a black lab…
Thursday, May 04, 2006
The New Fourth Ward
"Do I Go to Where You Mismanage a Nation's Defenses and Knock the Cock Out of Your Mouth?"
Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld was heckled at the Atlanta History Center today.
On display in the History Center's museum is the old switchboard from the Clermont Hotel.
So which is/are more stained? The cum-splattered patchboard from a Ponce de Leon flophouse or the blood-drenched hands of the Big Blowhard from Winnetka?