This Thursday: "A Good Prosthesis"

Come to the Cornelia St. Cafe this Thursday evening. I'll be reading a short story about my sixteenth birthday, involving a transvestite relative and a prosthetic limb.

SNAPPY FICTION!
hosted by Karen Heuler
Cornelia St. Cafe
29 Cornelia St.
212-989-9319
Thursday, Sept. 28th
6:00PM

$6 cover includes one house drink.

Quick tales about false legs, false hopes, nasty food, and love without a clue. Karen Heuler hosts a reading of stories fast enough and short enough to keep your synapses flaring. Featuring fiction by Jennifer Dziura, John Gorman, Margot Landau, and Jennifer Sears.

Two Uncomfortable Encounters with Asian Street Vendors

Today, I was in Queens and a street vendor was selling CDs. She was playing one on a boom box, and I really liked it. Just some piano music. I like piano music, but I don't know enough about it to really shop for it. I picked up the CD, asked for the price, and opened my purse to pay when all the sudden the music on the boom box got really, really cheesy -- like, "theme from Disney cartoon mermaid movie" kind of cheesy.

I didn't really want the CD anymore (I immediately imagined holding a dinner party in which I serve a flourless torte and then the soundtrack turns to "Under the Sea"), so I rifled through my purse and pretended I didn't have enough cash. (Well, what would you have done? "Sorry, this CD sucks now"?)

In the second case, a lady in Herald Square was doing caricatures for $5. I know it's totally touristy to stop on the street and have your portrait drawn, but I was feeling whimsical, and $5 seemed like a bargain (and, quite frankly, I knew I'd get a blog post out of it). In under ten minutes, this was produced:


I don't think it looks like me, but I do think it looks kind of like Elaine from Seinfeld.

I was, however, fine with paying $5 and going my merry way. The artist, however, informed me that charcoal "goes everywhere" and that I really should buy a frame, which she would sell me for $10. She presumptively went about trying to frame the drawing, while I told her (quite assertively, compared to the CD encouter) that I didn't want the frame. She lowered the price, but I held firm and told her she was getting $5 or I was walking away. She rolled the drawing up for me, grumpily.

Charcoal does, in fact, "go everywhere," including on my scanner.

autothin

This is old news in blogland, but HP has released a camera with an automatic "slimming" feature.


What amazing technology! (Not really). I'd be more impressed by a camera that gave everyone bigger boobs, or erased five-o'clock shadow, or -- perhaps, for closeted homosexuals -- changed your spouse's gender with the click of a button.

small-change coincidence

Weirdly, the day after posting this, I went to Mudspot and asked for a small coffee, and the guy behind the counter said "We only have one size. Would you like half?"

it's not fat-hating if it's facetious .... right?

Whoa. Gawker's t-shirts are back, and "they now come in even bigger sizes to adequately cover your various unsightly protuberances. Of course, they still run small, so don't think we can accommodate just any ol' lardo who comes along."

Err...

The phrase "unsightly protuberances" reminded me instantly of...

"my humps, my humps, my lovely lady lumps"


...which always reminds me of getting checked
for mumps at the doctor's office as a kid.


Incidentally, "my lovely little boy lumps"
just sounds very, very wrong.

I've been indexed

I received my contributor's copy of The Idiot's Guide to Jokes in the mail today (and Penguin is getting paid for it with this blog post riiiight here), and it turns out I'm in the book five times. Here's my entry in the index:

Yep, that pretty much sums up my act.

tomato, to-MAH-to, Truvada, Tru ... nevermind

Okay, I already have TWO jokes in my act about the very specific topic of "HIV drugs as advertised on the subway," but I just saw ad an for Truvada that defies belief.

The ad features an attractive, bald, genial-looking black man standing in front of his motor scooter.


The full text reads:

You worked hard to get where you are.
So why settle for an HIV med that's twice-a-day?
Er ... you worked hard to get where you are? Down the yellow-brick HIV road? I know I have trouble setting priorities, but that's ridiculous.

And, come on, if you have a life-threatening illness, GOD FORBID that you should have to take TWO ENTIRE PILLS A DAY! Jesus, what if someone told you to exercise and eat better?

What, it takes five seconds and might save my life?
Balderdash! I'd rather shoot up with a dirty needle.

sister, can you spare a dime?

This evening I had two unusual encounters both involving very small amounts of money.

First, at the Wildgreen Cafe at 88th and 3rd, a nicely-dressed lady came in and tried to buy a half a cup of coffee. When the man behind the counter held up the smallest size and told her, well ... that it was the smallest size, she asked how much, and he said $1.10, and she looked disgusted and walked out. She didn't look like she was hurting for fifty-five cents, either.

Even though she didn't look needy, I was actually considering offering to split a cup of coffee with her, assuming that the guy behind the counter would agree to put it in two separate cups. Unfortunately for her, this bitch had a poor attitude, so I didn't say anything.

The second strange encounter was at Staples, where I was making copies. Kinkos, you see, is home to the sorts of people who briskly make their copies and otherwise keep to themselves; Staples, being a cent or two cheaper per copy, attracts people who haven't seen a copy machine since 1966, as well as people who don't have credit cards and have never had the need to make a copy before because they are not accustomed to processing words on paper.

An old lady came in and wanted to know where to put the change. Someone else explained that you have to use a credit card, or go buy a copy card. She wanted to know if you can put just a dollar on the card. I turned around. She was carrying just one piece of paper. I asked "Do you have just one copy to make?" She did. The original had one word on it, a last name. She wanted to blow it up "as big as possible." It took me several tries to accomplish this (when enlarging by 400%, this copier enlarges whatever is in the upper righthand corner). She kept saying "I'll give you eight cents!" In the end, she gave me fifty cents, and thanked me twice.

I can only wonder what xeroxed heraldic heirloom craft project her grandchildren are going to be receiving.

come to my window, I'll be home soon

I was on tour for three weeks, and I'm disappointed that hotels don't have real keys anymore -- they all have those plastic cards that are programmed for your room.

The hotels don't even want the cards back since the cards expire automatically, so over a three-week tour, I collected a big stack. (Four Ramadas and a Best Western -- is that a good poker hand?)

I think handing someone your expired key card could become the 'giving out a bogus phone number' of our generation.


Oh, yeah, you want to see me tonight?
Here's my card. Come to my room
... in Fayetteville ... last April.

I like this picture because it looks like my legs are made of STEEL ALLOY

I want to give a huge shout-out* to Chicks & Giggles (and impresarias Carolyn and Nichelle) for having me on the show last night.

After getting the light unexpectedly, I jam-packed The History of Western Philosophy in 90 Seconds into 60 seconds, but I did not at all omit Plato or Kant, as sometimes happens when I'm in a rush.

I'd also like to give a huge shout-out to Bust magazine, which sent a reporter and photographer to cover the show. Bust.com is where I ordered my Wonder Woman underpants!

(Happy birthday to Cheryl B.! Hi, Winnie! I like your girlie-mullet!)

* Longtime readers of this blog will remember my mother's "I thought Shout-Out was a stain remover."

Survivor: Ultimate Edition!

An article on Salon by Heather Havrilesky about the current season of Survivor, in which teams are broken down by race, contains this hilarious account of the depravity of European-Americans:

A member of the white tribe steals a chicken from a member of the Asian tribe, and is unrepentant, saying later, "I saw a chicken, I grabbed a chicken, because the chicken was free." Upon arriving on their island, the white tribe members congratulate one another on "kicking ass" and grabbing so much good stuff so quickly. Later, while chatting about her nickname, one of the tribe members accidentally sets both of the two chickens free. The tribe members chase the chickens, but can't catch them, and the guy who stole the chickens is extremely angry. Later that night, the first night on the island, two of the cute young people, Adam and Candace, cuddle.... Is this really "Survivor," or some kind of ominous fable depicting the rise and fall of Western civilization?

Apparently, Survivor has engaged in similar demographic hijinks in the past, like separating people by age or gender. You know what I'd like to see?

Survivor: Democrats vs. Republicans!
Episode 1: The Republican team attempts to annex the entire island in the name of Manifest Destiny (and Jesus). Someone immediately begins drilling for oil. The Republican women submit dutifully to the men, except the strident blonde one, who loudly proclaims that everyone on the Democratic side of the island rapes babies. When host Jeff Probst points out that the Democratic team has no babies, she sharpens a stick with her serpent-teeth and writes SLANDER: Lies from the Democratic Side of the Island, Which by the Way is Full of Baby Rapists Who also LOVE TERRORISM. Two male members of the Republican team build a "log cabin" and are promptly ostracized by the rest of the group, until it comes time to vote.

The Democratic team promptly breaks down into oppressed minority groups, each with its own coalition. A debate ensues over whether to found a coalition for transgendered group members, even though no one in the group is transgendered. The deaf lesbian declares the area between the river and the westmost coconut tree to be a "safe space for women." A debate ensues over whether, were the transgendered coalition to gain any members, those members would be welcome in the safe space for women. The discussion breaks down in the absence of a sign language interpreter, at which point the Democrats realize they are late for a Challenge against the Republican team. They promptly lose, while nevertheless agreeing that they are, once again, oppressed. Returning to their side of the island, the Democrats use palm fronds to build primitive computers and huddle together to develop their "netroots strategy."

seen today in Flushing, Queens

Woman of nondescript national/ethnic/religious background wearing a t-shirt that said "My god can kick your god's butt." Um, could you please put on a headscarf ... or a mantilla ... or a rosary ... or a yarmulke ... or something that would tell us what the hell you're talking about?

Also spotted: "In-Soon Salon." Does that mean they take walk-ins, or does "In-Soon" mean something in Korean?

And finally: "Kim & You Law Firm." I know "You" is someone's name, but instead the law firm comes out sounding like some kind of Fischer-Price Legal Playset.

the same biting commentary that keeps you coming back day after day to the 18th most important stand-up comedy blog on the internet

I was wondering if there might exist an alternative to the Wet T-Shirt Contest for women who have great asses.


Then I thought, hmmn, a "Wet Panties Contest" doesn't have exactly the same connotation.

a hard day's brisket

At Pick-a-Bagel on 77th and Lex, there's a vegetarian panini on the menu called the "Meatles" (missing an "s").

I know what it means, but it made me think of some kind of British-Invasion tribute band made out of meat puppets.

     

Overheard by Jenisfamous

Last night I attended the grand opening of Comix, the meatpacking district's new comedy club, and saw performances by Kathy Griffin and David Spade from a table not more than fifteen feet away! (Also, oddly, I received a gift bag containing Comix-branded surgical scrubs -- anyone know why these exist in the first place?)

While waiting outside (in line, like everyone else), I overheard this:

Short, round man trying to skip the line: Is there a press list?

Effeminate, black-clad bouncer: Are you, like, covering the event or attending it? Are you red-carpet?

Short, round man trying to skip the line: Um, I write a blog....

Effeminate, black-clad bouncer: You have to go to the back of the line.

let the hate mail begin -- you're scraptacular!

What the fuck is up with scrapbooking as a hobby? Clue: most photos are now DIGITAL. Most of us look at them on computers, and save and edit and share them digitally as well. Do you really need to glue that shit into a book and decorate it with glitter?

While on tour, I traveled past a strip mall with a store called "Scraptacular."

"That store has 'craptacular' in its name!" I said, disbelievingly.

And why are the suburbs full of stores dedicated to memorializing life events on stationery pages, gluing old ticket stubs next to photos of your red-eyed friends centered within clip-art-tastic sticker-frames?
New Yorkers don't do this shit."
Scrapbooking is for people who don't have blogs. I'll bet those people eat paste.

I don't think you'd need the jaws of life to pry them apart

Am I the only one who thought the Pussycat Dolls were singing "buns" and not "buttons"? As in "loosen up my buns, baby"?

I saw the video and thought ... um ... maybe this is one of those things that somehow just gets by, like a "Relax, Don't Do It" of our age.

Their skanky ho-suits don't even HAVE buttons.

what I think of in the shower

It occurred to me that FunnyLingus would be a good name for a lesbian humor magazine.

I am now the owner of FunnyLingus.com.
My domain registrar helpfully suggested that I might want to also be the owner of any number of these top-notch domains:


So ... anyone want to start a lesbian humor magazine?

now how about some eyebrow threading?

Via Feminsting: Bratz is selling padded bras for six-year-olds!

While the feminists are predictably outraged (as would be any Christian conservatives wandering through Feminsting's comments area), I can't help but think...

Perhaps pre-tween padded bras are a tremendous
boon to transgendered little boys.



I also can't help but think that maybe someone
should buy one for Nicole Richie.

as easy as falling off a blog

Aww... I write the 18th Most Popular Blog By or For Comedians. Thanks, Mo!

In other link-related news, I am apparently affecting other people's sheetrock-installation decisions, and appearing in their dreams (here, here, and here).

"You'd be surprised."

On Monday, 9/11, I flew from Memphis back home to New York, on Jetblue. I was at the check-in kiosk, confronted with a user interface that asked if I wanted to change my seat and then, due to a full flight, presented me with zero options from which to choose.

(Why even ask? Just tell me "This flight is full. You're stuck in 2D, bitch!" I can take it. Why present false options? What would you like for lunch, chicken or fish? We've got neither! This is a vegan flight!)

The guy at the kiosk next to me was having the same problem. He, however, rather than mentally composing a blog post, elected to ask a Jetblue employee about it. I glanced over at his monitor; he was in 2C. He was also Mike Birbiglia.

Jetblue's computer system kind of sucks, except for the part where they put all the comedians on a flight in their own row. It might be more useful if they did that with the doctors, though. This man's having a heart attack! Quick, get him to rows 13 through 15!

Maybe Jetblue is trying to quarantine the comedians to protect other passengers from unwanted Snakes on a Plane jokes.

On Babysitting

Oh, the baby cries.
Oh, how she cries!
She stands up in her crib, stretches
her little arms, grabs
onto my shirt with both hands;
I am guilty of the sin of being the wrong lady,
the wrong lady entirely.
The baby flops down
despondently
within four padded walls.
"Cease your futile lamentation," I say.
She does not. Misery
was never so adorable.
"I am just going to blog about you anyway.
And pet Mama's cats, and look in her
bathroom cabinets, and fall asleep reading
Breastfeeding for Dummies."
Oh, the baby cries.

I (heart) NY

I'm flying back home on 9/11. (Sorry, Mom! Worry away, what can I do?) I was hoping I'd have a whole row to myself on a half-empty plane. Looks like instead I'll just be divested of all my water and Chapstick. Again. Maybe I'll encounter some motherfucking snakes on the motherfucking plane.

baby fat

From DrKoop.com: US Babies are Getting Fatter. Relatedly, an article on Salon speculates whether Suri Cruise might be on a diet.

Oh, how old is she?

Four months!

Really? She seems so small.

Well, little Caitlyn's in treatment for bulimia. I found her crawling into the bathroom to puke up her applesauce. She'll only wear black onesies -- they're slimming.

Try the Gerber's pureed lamb -- it's low-carb!

Yeah, we're doing South Beach.

voter participation may be at record lows in America, but this one you can do on the internet

The New York Press is holding online voting for its annual "Best of New York" awards.


You might consider voting for Molly Crabapple's Dr. Sketchy's for "best cheap date" and any other appropriate categories.

You might also consider voting for this chick Jennifer Dziura for "Best Standup Comic." And also for "Best Republican Hang-Out" or perhaps "Best New Rapper to Avoid."

Thank you.

favorite horsey picture

Don't bite the hand that feeds you!

TV in Memphis

While on tour down south, I was on Memphis News Channel 3's "Live at 9," along with a Christian trashcan-drumming group and some fainting goats.

I thought some of the trashcan-drumming boys were kind of cute until I read their deceptively rock-n-roll-lookin' t-shirts (not pictured) and spied the middle-aged televangelist-looking man ushering them around. I desperately wanted to say to hosts Alex and Marybeth:

"Religion is fine and all, but I'm not sure Jesus has the best possible use for virile teenage boys' banging power."

what I do on tour when not telling jokes

Heeeere, little horsey-pony-donkey-mule-babies!

SOOOO EXCITING!

What is that woman doing with our livestock?
She ain't from 'round here.

The big horsey scared away the little horsies.
He spit on me by accident and then ate a
whole apple core. His head had flies.

East Harlem Gigolo Giglio

As my comical neighbor Carolyn has informed me, the Giglio* di Sant' Antonio Feast is happening now, in my neighborhood! (I, however, am in Memphis). From the website:

The Giglio Society of East Harlem is a group of men who have dedicated their lives to honor Sant' Anntonio, their beloved saint. Their love and devotion is on display each year during the annual Italian Festival held in East Harlem, New York....

For those unfamilar with the Giglio (pronounced JEEL-YO) - it is a 75 to 85 foot tall wooden structure with a papier-mâché face adorned with beloved saints and colorful flowers. Giglios are built in honor of a town's patron saint and carried on the shoulders of approximately 120 men in a ritual that dates back to 409 AD in the town of Nola, Italy.

It is my new goal in life to be adorned with colorful flowers and carried on the shoulders of approximately 120 Italian men as an expression of their love and devotion.

* Wasn't that a horrible movie with Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez?

for all of you who've ever said Ayn Rand sucks...

Do Objectivists ever tell each other "You give good Fountainhead?"

Update: Enjoy this link to parodies and humor about Objectivism. This is very funny. Unless you've never read Atlas Shrugged. And if you didn't do that before you were twenty-five, it's too late now.

You may also enjoy this "Best of Craigslist": Anytime I read Ayn Rand, "my mom would say that i was acting like an asshole"

breaking news: Jenisfamous.com blog banned by Big Boy

See that last blog post, about tractor pulling? I wrote it from the Big Boy in Bowling Green, because my hotel doesn't have WiFi, and Big Boy is advertising free WiFi on its marquee, right under the fried caramel cheesecake.

So, I wrote the last post, found the tractor photo, published the post, and then went to, you know ... visit my own website to see the fruits of my labor. I received this message:

You have deprived Big Boy customers of Jenisfamous.com? My "weighted phrase limit" is exceeded? Did I perhaps say "dick" too much? Or "Titty Blow Masturbator"? Or "sweaty Stalinesque fascist role-play"?

Big Boy = Big Brother

Bowling Green

I had a fantastic show at Grumpy Dave's in Bowling Green, Ohio, home of Bowling Green State University -- and the National Tractor Pulling Championships.

Why pull a tractor? Isn't the entire point of a tractor
"drawing, towing or pulling something which cannot
propel itself," as from the Latin root "tract," to pull?
Pulling a tractor is like ... locking up the boot on your
car so it doesn't get stolen. Or putting on foundation
to cover up your hideous makeup job.
I have two cousins who go to this school who didn't come to the show, but a guy with trendy-nerdy glasses told me three times how much he liked The History of Western Philosophy in 90 Seconds, and I autographed a postcard for a guy named Hubcap. Glory be!

Bob & Tom video online now!

Go here to see my video from
Bob & Tom's Comedy Hole!

Jen at One-Liners in Greenwood, Indiana

I'm in black and white for no special reason.

This is from a different night. A night of belt-wearing.

Ha ha, it's comedy.

Yeah, ha.

Why does One-Liners' logo have a penis for a nose?
Why did I have to stand right next to it?

summer of '96

Tonight is my ten-year high school reunion!

I am not there, because I am performing at One-Liners in Greenwood, Indiana.

I do wish I were there to see who got fat.

Sex and the City

Scott from Boise sent in this "totally pointless family photo" in relation to my burqua post.


Do you think this burqua is slimming? It's "Onyx."

Oh, yes, it's quite attractive! I'm wearing
"Midnight Allah." I think Fatima's is "Ebony."

Shut up, bitches, you're distracting me. I'm
doing my best Paris Hilton pose under here.

You shut up. I can see your ankle, whore.

Everybody smile! Or don't. Whatever.

Bob & Tom photos

I'd love to know how many of Bob and Tom's 6 million listeners visited Jenisfamous.com, but StatCounter won't let me log in and thus can suck my left tit.

Here are some pictures from my time in the studio (that funny guy in there with me is musical comedian Heywood Banks). If I look like I got up at 4:30 am to go do a radio show, well, I did. I look like someone who blearily ate grits at Denny's while it was still dark out.

That's Tom way in the back there

With comic Heywood Banks

Shooting a video for bobandtom.com
I was on the show, on and off, for about two hours. At one point, Tom referred to me as a rock and roll chick, and then kindly asked if "chick" was an acceptable word, or maybe "doll," and, really, what would it be okay to call me?

I replied: "Any word is fine, as long as it doesn't start with skank, hyphen."

I'm pretty sure I also remember referring to children as "smaller, cuter Alzheimer's patients -- senseless, mentally deficient, with occasional moments of lucidity."

(Scroll down for ... Skanks on a Plane!)

tune in...

I had a great time at the Bob and Tom Show yesterday! While I was in the studio, I was asked to voice a spot for "Snakes on a Plane" parody ...

Skanks on a Plane!

Listen for it this morning on Bob & Tom.

Enjoy this photo from the now-defunct Hooters Air.