Texting girls

I never use exclamation points when texting guys. But girls? Sure, throw it in there. Why not add enthusiasm to the message? Generally they're fine with it.

I don't know if Conan and I are okay right now to be honest with you

You think you know someone. You spend more night in his arms than any woman's. Night after night he tells you a couple jokes, makes fun of himself enough to be endearing, and gives you a giggle. And then one morning you wake up and he's...he's gone. He just up and left, something big came up in LA, he couldn't turn it down. Now, just when things were so good, so right. Somehow over the course of years you let your guard down and let him in. It's hard to forget when he first arrived. Those days still make me smile. I was wary, shy, confused. He's not like the others I've had. He's so silly. Will it last with all these antics? Would he stop being so nervous around me already? I'm not going to bite you. I just want to laugh with you. And then he did it. He made me laugh. He did some things I'll never forget, that much is sure. His little voices and bits, they were different, they were new, they were weird. He was encouraging weird. Encouraging risk. Encouraging self consciousness. It was exciting. It was exhilarating, frankly.

Once my guard was down I started to admire him. I looked forward to what he'd think up next. It became inspiring. Instead of cringing I was leaning forward. I was embracing him.

And then over time, I don't know how to explain it even. It just happened. He became important. A friend. Someone I could trust. I could sometimes understand what he was about to say by looking at his face. Just like with any good lover.

So when LA came up I tried to put it out of my mind. Maybe if I don't think about it won't happen. But New York was so him. New York was a party his best friend threw where everyone knew him and wanted to hang out. What was so great about the new life in LA, and where would it leave us?

But you know what, after awhile I got excited about his new adventure. Hell, maybe it is like they say. If you love someone, let them go.

Those days are gone now. He's been in LA for what seems like an eternity and well, I'm holding up alright. I try not to think about it too much, what we had. Who knows, maybe we still have it and we're just not in the same city anymore. Maybe he shaped me, molded me in ways that prepared me to be on my own in ways I don't even understand. Oh god, here I go again. I've got to start keeping it under control. Maybe the new Conan will be just as good as the old. But deep down, I'll always miss that one. Guess I'm sentimental like that.

Day drinking

No.

Blog Title

I was jogging along the Hudson River waterfront recently when I overheard someone say the phrase "sorcery among the populace." I have no idea what they were talking about but I do recognize a cool phrase when I see one. I don't believe in sorcery and I certainly don't believe in it occurring among the citizens but I do like phrases that can't be easily defined so yeah let's go with that.

Assorted thoughts

Growing up in a religious environment imbues you with certain perceptions of the external world. One in particular that I remember goes something like this: "Now there’s Christians like us. Real Christians. Then there’s people that just say they’re Christians. They talk the talk but they don’t really live it." I always prided myself on spotting these people. There’s one over there now. Look at him just sitting there, not giving a shit about his parents. I should go hold the door open for that old lady--I bet God would really notice that.

Masculinity is an interesting subject. Now that mainstream views on homosexuality have shifted I think it’s forcing a lot of straight men to re evaluate how acceptable behavior is defined. For example, if you go out to a bar and meet a great girl the first thing you do is tell your friends “Oh my god I met this great girl: She’s cute and funny and we really hit it off.” But as of this writing you can’t say the same stuff when you meet a guy. “Oh my god last night I met the most amazing man. We were talking about sports and religion and I was like ‘Oh my god I totally hope we become friends.’"

I get irritated when my cell phone breaks. It doesn’t have a cord and lets me make calls anywhere in the world. Meanwhile, my grandparents chipped ice off Lake Erie to heat so they could take a bath. As Louis C.K. points out we have nothing to complain about.

There are probably better ways to spend your time on the Internet than using the Wendy’s store locator. But I need to know what my Wendy’s options are no matter what zip code I’m in. Go ahead and bookmark it: http://www.wendys.com/

I never wanted to go to England before because I heard the bars close at 11. Then someone told me that’s just the pubs—nightclubs stay open later. So now I want to go.

If I was a teacher I’d chew gum every day even though my students wouldn’t be allowed to. “My job is to prepare you for the real world. Other people have shit you don’t. Get used to it.”

And finally a quote from our friend Woody Harrelson:

"I wrapped a movie called 'Zombieland,' in which I was constantly under assault by zombies, then flew to New York, still very much in character," Harrelson said in a statement issued Friday by his publicist.
"With my daughter at the airport I was startled by a paparazzo, who I quite understandably mistook for a zombie," he said.

Quite understandably indeed.

Joke ideas

Some ideas I might try to turn into jokes...



I've watched black guys use the pickup technique of “I’m not going to put up with any of your bullshit tonight” to amazing effect.

I’m barely able to remember which friends of mine have kids. That’s one level of knowledge. Then the next level is knowing their names. I suck at that too. But at least names are constant. Then the third level is knowing how old the kids are. That’s really unfair since it changes. Just a heads up to anyone I’ve ever met—I have no idea how old your kids are. Please don’t expect me to know that.

Girls’ FB status updates. Amanda “knows that every ending, no matter how sad, is another beginning.” Uh what? Shut up!

Hubris in the workplace. Every company thinks they hire the best and the brightest. We all came from the same pool of schools, we’re all “learning something new every day” while “having fun wherever possible.” Every employer says the same thing and wants the same thing. It just creates a big sea of anonymity. Even if you’re a high performer you’re lauded for conforming to a well established standard mold. Excellence in business, at least below the most senior levels (and with creative businesses a possible exception), is really an exercise in conformity.

Go to someone’s house and they offer you a drink and you want to be polite and not make them get you a drink so you say “Oh thanks but I’m fine.” From that second on you’re overwhelmed by the most intense thirst known to man and you’ve got no one but yourself to blame.

How girls get indignant if you don’t remember their name if you’ve only met them 3 times. “You don’t even remember my name do you?”

I don’t think it’s fair that parents get to put up pictures of their kids in the office. I think single people should be able to put up pictures of liquor bottles they just polished off or all the movies they’ve made it through in their Netflix queue or a blurry picture of a hot, random hook up from 3 months ago.

Friend of mine clarified she’s not racist against all minorities. Just the ones that are really loud.

There’s definitely a point in public where you realize “Everyone around me hates me right now.” (Blocking elevator door)

Head shots

One of the awkward and inescapable aspects of a career in comedy is the specter of ego. I would imagine most comics want to be perceived as the happy go lucky, likable person everyone can relate to. Cracking jokes in the corner long enough can eventually lead to the spotlight--instead of cracking up with a few buddies you try it out on a crowd of strangers. But still, the congenial and sincere everyman seems to be an abiding archetype within the field.

So it was with some trepidation I stepped into a stranger's photography studio on West 39th St. this afternoon. What the hell is this--I'm going to prance and pose for some dude? My only real hope before the session began was to avoid any encounter that could potentially lead to man rape. About 10 minutes in I desperately wished I had booked a session with a female photographer. A man photographing another man for an hour? That kind of shit wouldn't fly in the neighborhood I grew up in.

But the guy seemed nice and I quickly realized that like most other people I've met in New York City he was pursuing a passion and wanted to capture something great on film. Which is why I then forfeited my session to a hot girl. No. Anyway, after evaluating the sad little collection of "outfits" I'd brought (four shirts I thought weren't too wrinkled) we decided to start with some nudes and take it from there. No. Thankfully he was fine with one of the shirts as I had no desire to change more than once in front of another man with a camera nearby. Despite my post adolescent acceptance of the gay lifestyle deep down I'm still a paranoid straight kid evaluating how the neighborhood bullies are interpreting my every move.

Before we start he tells me he's going to step out for a moment. I ask if this is the part where he gets three guys with machine guns and they come back and rob me. It's not. It's the part where he smokes a little dope before we get started. I can't prove this but my trained nose tells me this is exactly what happened. At first I'm jealous. Then I realize a photo session with a man is bad enough sober. High would have been a disaster. I'm not sure my Dad could handle looking at a head shot of his oldest son stoned while being photographed by a man. That's just not what he set out to accomplish.

Now I'm not doing something right with my back. Or my neck. Look natural, damnit. Put your hand on this chair, cross your legs, lean against the ledge near the open window, chin down more. I scold myself briefly for not being able to contort my body the way this man wants me to. God this all sounds so gay.

I'm just being a silly goose. The guy was straight. So straight in fact that we entered into one of those discussions where in the back of my head I think "God I'm glad no girl can hear this." He asks me if I want to hear one of his theories. Yes, I want to hear any and all theories. It involves the ideal age for men and women to just go ape shit on each other sexually. For women, apparently, they have so many eggs just dying to be fertilized at age 26. The beautiful part, you see, is they don't even know it. All they know is that they are horny but we, the savvy men, know the real story. Men, for our part, intrinsically understand once we hit our forties that our prostates are dying and so we want to use up as much of its product as possible before the grave swallows erotic pleasure once and for all.

Hence 26 year old girls and 42 year old men are a combustible combination just itching to be paired up by Eros and his sentimental counterpart. Something tells me 42 year old men are much more in favor of this arrangement than 26 year old women. Anyway, it's a theory and is exactly the kind of theory guys like to discuss with each other. Left unattended guys often ponder two main questions: 1) How can we understand the dynamics of female sexuality? and 2) How can we take advantage of this without their knowledge? But this is no surprise.

After about an hour of pictures I'm desperate to stop. Don't we have enough already? How many do we have? 260. Outside of this session I don't think I own 260 pictures of myself from birth through today. For god's sake we have to find something decent in the 260. And even if we don't let's cut our losses and go back outside on the street where tough people are near.

Left unattended the desire for a perfect head shot could spiral into all other sorts of vain pursuits. If the comedy thing does work out I hope to be known as a sincere, direct, humble person who tells the truth in a funny way. So let's just get a few decent shots, get them printed, and never speak of this again.