Becoming Fearless

"A Prayer for My Grandmother," a piece I contributed to The Huffington Post's Mother-Daughter Campaign, is currently featured on their Fearless Voices front page. You can also read the entire piece here at this permalink. It's pretty touching and a little bit sad, but it was important for me nonetheless. I'm so honored to be joining the likes of the tremendous Melinda Gates, Erica Jong, Kate Clinton, Christine Lahti and Christine Ebersole in this project. I hope you enjoy it!

Rain, rain, go away...

If you want more where that came from, here's probably the cheeriest, brightest floral Flickr set I have ever seen.

Live-blogging American Idol: Idol Gives Back, Day Two, or, The Best Photo Op Ever.

First off, let me start by saying American Idol doing a charity show is like Paris Hilton teaching Women's Studies.

That being said, if I see Teri Hatcher try to look 12 one more time I'm gonna shoot myself in the face. Be pretty, Teri! Do it. Rock on with your gorgeous titties and what not. But don't curl your hair and wear lip gloss like you're 9. You look younger than your daughter. Except not.

I hate feeling like that's exactly what the "entertainment industry" wants. For women to look younger than their daughters. But I'll do it. Cuz I'm in it to win it. Since my daughter is only 18 months old, I'm gonna start walking around in a diaper and a bib. Just rocking the adult onesie full time with a sweet little binky in my mouth.

I fully expect to be hit on by white men for the first time in my life.

Thank effing God for Jack Black. I would kiss that rose any time.

Carrie Underwood has decided to help African orphans by lip-synching.

"If you're mad, get mad, Umbuku. It's okay - your Mom died of AIDS. You can cry. No, seriously. Please cry. We're filming this shit."

"Oh, you guys don't speak English? No, it's cool. Just smile and nod along while I sing. What? What's the problem, dude? You're falling asleep?! Well don't blame me! Blame Chrissie Hynde! I know this song sucks - I can't help it. Just pay attention. What are you hungry or something? Jesus! (Take the wheel...)"

Commercials! Yes! Wal*Mart pimping the green light bulb. Wal*Mart. If every Wal*Mart shopper, all 100 million of us (myself occasionally included) bought one of these funny looking light bulbs, it would be like taking 1,000 cars off the road. Which would allow more room for our delivery trucks. Roll back, bitches!

Image courtesy Something Creative.

It's poverty that's ruining the environment, people. But not like African poverty. Like I can't afford to buy Brooklyn Industries and Whole Foods poverty. Hot.

Ellen. Cute.

Rascal Flatts. This might be a good time to pee.

p.s. - I didn't know Rascal Flatts was spelled with two t's in the sense that I've never seen it spelled before, but I knew it - intrinsically. Hott.

OH MY GOD! MYSPACE TOM! MYSPACE TOM! MYSPACE TOM! HE'S REAL!

Okay - now we're in Kentucky. Good. Seriously, I'm psyched to hear that some of the money will go to Americans. Not that I don't love Africans, but it just seems like people often forget we have the same problems here. My Eurotrash hubby is always talking about how America is a Third World country. This of course coming from a man whose country is covered in dog shit.

I just learned from a young son of Kentucky that "plum" is a great word to use to describe things that don't put you to sleep.

Coffee is totally plum. But plum coffee is nasty.

Anyhoo!

American Idol contestants. In a video. Snore...

Keira Knightley. HUGH GRANT! Dr. Phil. HELEN MIRREN! Oh-hell-yes, Miss Piggy! HELENA "CRAZY-ASS" BONHAM CARTER! Stayin' Alive.

Okay - I take it back - if you're Goldie Hawn you can look 12 forever.

Did Miss Piggy just stick her finger down her throat?

Someone is staying. Seacrest is doing a great job of sincerely bring sincere. I am duly impressed.

Lots of gorgeous little black babies. Mommies are dying. And just as I get excited that they're actually taking these women to the hospital instead of just filming them as they lay there helplessly--

THEY START PLAYING, "IF I LAY HERE. IF I JUST LAY HERE..."

Not possible. And yet it keeps playing. Someone's getting fired tonight!

Josh Groban. I think he might get voted off. I mean, he's doing his thing, but I'm not really feelin' it, dawg.

Kelly Clarkson. I love that bitch. I love her full eyebrows, her visible figure and her beautiful, soulful voice. But I really love that she just sang about the Lord and I truly believed it wasn't about her. Hallelujah!

Simon and The Simpsons - brilliant.

LaKisha is safe. Whew! Now who are these people again?

Celine Dion singing with the man who is and always will be the world's greatest idol! Ooh! Who could it be? 1968 - let's see... Frank Sinatra? Bob Dylan?

Oh. Elvis. My bad. Sorry, dude. (I hope he doesn't OD now...)

Wait a minute. Celine is effectively doing karaoke on TV right now, right? I'm sure Collins will have something to say about it in the morning. For the record, Celine sounds great. And is, to her credit, not moving nearly as spasmodically as Elvis. He can really shimmy for a dead guy.

Madonna! With her new son in Malawi. For half a second, when she said the word "number," I felt like she was actually from Detroit.

And speaking of Detroit! The commercial for the new Drew Barrymore movie "Lucky You," from the director of 8 Mile!

Two words: Vroom. Vroom. Or, alternately: Awful. Hair.

BREAKING NEWS: Lovers tiff between Ryan and Simon! They are so gonna hatef*ck later.

ANNIE LENNOX! ANNIE LENNOX! ANNIE LENNOX! Bridge Over Troubled Water. Albeit inaudible for the most part. I don't care. You'd be hard-pressed to shit on the Lennox. She's who Madonna wishes she was.

It should be evident by now that I like my bags of crazy to know they're crazy. I find nothing more endearing in this life. And I like them to be way more psyched at the end of a somber song than they should. I'LL EASE YOUR MIND, MUTHAFLUFFERS, YEAH! WOO!

FINAL RESULTS! FINAL RESULTS!

Shocking. Everyone is safe. Who are these people again? Where's Sanjaya?

"One" last thing... BONO. Without hair.

"This is my American Prayer." That I can become famous and cure AIDS. And then become famous for curing AIDS.


And always look skinny wearing white.



Related posts: Live-blogging the American Idol season finale (May 2006). Hint: Teri Hatcher, Elvis, and my penchant for not knowing who Idol contestants are seems to be a theme.

Anybody looking to score some pillz?

I highly recommend you visit the McDonald's on 125th and Lexington. With your baby. Good times!

I need a vacation...

Oh, it's on!

The MySpace Race for Cool in '08 is on!

Check out each of the candidates down the right column:

The frontrunner. Great smile, casual outdoor shot, leads in coolness by virtue of blackness.

The runner-up. Sure, he looks a little bit like your grandpa, but if you were a hot 17-year old blond girl, you know he'd pay for the bottle at Lotus.

Third place. Looks too much like a banker, but scores points for the wistful look across the water. Is probably a beast in the sack.

AND THE AWARD FOR MISS CONGENIALITY GOES TO:

He just wants World Peace.

Other finalists:

A whale dies in Brooklyn

The baby whale died. There goes this week...

I Made It Into Another Museum!

No, it wasn't free day at the Met. An essay of mine is in this exhibition!

"High & Tight" as a part of Imagining Ourselves at the International Museum of Women.

Related posts: I'm History!

He's Not My President

For Virginia Tech:

the sun is setting on the century
and we are armed to the teeth
we're all working together now
to make our lives mercifully brief
and schoolkids keep trying to teach us
what guns are all about
confuse liberty with weaponry
and watch your kids act it out
and every year now like christmas
some boy gets the milkfed suburban blues
reaches for the available arsenal
and saunters off to make the news
and the women in the middle
are learning what poor women have always known
that the edge is closer than you think
when the men bring the guns home

look at where the profits are
that's how you'll find the source
of the big lie that you and i
both know so well
in the time it takes this cultural
death wish to run it's course
they're gonna make a pretty penny
and then they're all going to hell
he said the chickens all come home to roost
yeah, malcolm forecasted this flood
are we really gonna sleep through another century
while the rich profit off our blood?
true, it may take some doing
to see this undoing through
but in my humble opinion
here's what i suggest we do:

open fire on hollywood
open fire on MTV
open fire on NBC
and CBS and ABC
open fire on the NRA
and all the lies they told us
along the way
open fire on each weapons manufacturer
while he's giving head
to some republican senator

and if i hear one more time
about a fool's right
to his tools of rage
i'm gonna take all my friends
and i'm gonna move to canada
and we're gonna die of old age

~ Ani Difranco, "to the teeth"

Related Posts: Holy Shoot

Hater

Rachel Fujita is a multimedia artist who has lived in New York for the last seven years. She hates East Harlem and she really loathes Harlem, but she doesn't say why. Rude. (Via Gawker.)

p.s. - I've lived in New York for the last seven years, too, but I can think of a lot more interesting things to say about Times Square than "It's a tourist trap!" and "People move so slow!" Is that my baby crying? Oh no, it's the sound of her website.

What did you guys do this weekend?

I just hung out with a few comedians.

Oh yeah, and made all my dreams come true:

TGIFXIII

Have a great day, everybody!

Update!

Guys, Tyra is such a good friend! She got me flowers:

Rubbing Elbows...

Guys, it's not long before I have my own show. Look who requested my friendship!

I am so making it.

p.s. - Don't worry. I totally denied that forehead. DENIED! Lose some weight and Tyra again, girl!

p.p.s. - Just kidding! We're besties and going shopping for plus-size swimwear this weekend.

Total Eclipse of the Heart

So I'm at the show last night, right? I finish my set, I watch my friend's set - I'm chuggin' a beer. A Rolling Rock. A 5-month-old Rolling Rock, turns out. All of a sudden, I feel like I'm having a heart attack. I thought I was gonna die. I get up, stretch, go to the bathroom. In the bathroom I think, "Okay, I'm fat. This is it. I'm having a heart attack because I really am fat." Then I think, "What if I die right now? Right here in this bathroom? What will happen? Who will take care of the baby?" Then I step out of the bathroom, walk around a bit more, feel better. I go back into the theatre and realize that I'm exhausted from only getting an hour of sleep, but that I'm not gonna die. So I finish the beer. And I leave the show and think, "I really have to start taking better care of myself." Then I put out my cigarette and get an order of Auntie Anne's pretzel sticks. As I cover each one in Sweet Mustard sauce and lick the butter drippings off my lips, I realize: this is my life.

New Career Aspiration

I want to be on Sesame Street.



Someone please make this happen.

Also, p.s. - A cookie is a sometimes food, guys. I always f that up.

Today, Tomorrow... Forever!

TODAY

I'll be doing a rare 20 minute set in town tonight if you'd like to come by. There are some other great comics as well as theatre-types on the bill.

April 9, 2007 - 7:00P

Emerging Artists Theatre Developmental Works Series
311 West 43rd St, 5th floor
New York, NY
Cost: $10

NO DRINK MINIMUM. But there will be cheap beer available.

TOMORROW

April 10, 2007 - 8:00P

Chicks and Giggles: Anything But Stand-Up
Mo Pitkin's - 34 Ave. A (2nd/3rd)
FREE!
www.chicksandgiggles.com

Featuring:

Phaea Crede and Becca Jones (Delusions of Spandex)
D’Yan Forest (New York’s Only Septuagenarian Ukulele-Wielding Lesbian Comic)
Alana Harrison (UCB)
Joanna Parson (Gotham)
The infamous O’Debra Twins! (Show and Tell at Bowery Poetry Club)

AND! Gregory Pattillo - The Beatboxing Flute (YouTube STAR) with freestyling by CKC

If you haven't seen the magic that is Greg, please watch this awesomeness:

FOREVER

I should catch some air time on Nick-at-Nite's Funniest Mom in America 3 tomorrow night at 9 pm Eastern. If you can't make it to the show, watch it and let me know, would ya? I don't have a TiVo and I can't afford cable. But I'm rich in laughter! {forced smile breaking into tears, wailing, sobbing, gnashing of teeth, etc. followed by quick wipe of eyes, wink/nod and EXEUNT!}

Who's who?

I don't know. Whose mama is it?

(For Jen Dziura.)

It's not loitering if you look dreamy.

New Joke City

What New York looks like when there's only homeless people and comics left on the street:

Cooper Union, looking north.

Harlem, looking east.

***

Here we have a homeless guy with a comic:

Mo Pitkin's, looking drunk.

It's still rock and roll to me.

Parenting is badass.

April Fool's!

That last post? Who gives a shit about women, right? I mean, please! WOMEN ARE WHORES AND EVERYONE KNOWS IT! Hahahahahahaha...

This message sponsored by the Taliban.

Shut the expletive up.

A friend sent me an article about (what else?) women in comedy from the Washington Post. (Apparently they just read last year's issues of the Times and thought, "Oh? We can report on comedy? Who wants a free pass out of Iraq?!") We go from bombs to bombing. I love the media.

Anyway - may I just say, for the record:

I AM SO EXPLETIVE SICK OF HEARING ABOUT "WOMEN IN COMEDY."

There. I said it.

I mean, just because I run an all-girl show doesn't mean you have to send me every expletive newspaper clipping you come across about a chick on the mic. Yes, I'm sure Sarah took a pee today. Yes, I'm so glad Joan got another face lift. Thank God Maria Bamford isn't afraid to admit she's a woman in a world of men. Yes! That's wonderful! Thank you! But we all know there are fewer women in comedy, we all know the comedic culture is male-dominated, we all know women have a harder time succeeding. And do you wanna know why? Because of this juicy little piece of hypocrisy right here:

Lampanelli says fewer women succeed at comedy these days because of their material. She faults other women for staying with safe and predictable subject matter: shopping, PMS and "their Coach bag collection."

"I push the envelope all the time," Lampanelli says. "Most guys can't get away with what I do. I get away with it because people like me. I'm lovable. I'm not angry. Well, we should push it. We're not senators. We're comics."

Ah, that crude thing again. Yes, men love it, Lampanelli says: "Men respond to my kind of comedy." In true Lampanelli fashion, she adds, "If a guy wants to hear a yapping bitch, he'll just stay home with his wife."

Because someone as famous as LL can, a) say that she speaks for all women b) insinuate that women are "still" talking about PMS? WHO THE EXPLETIVE talks about PMS on stage???????? Who?! You find me a female comic (in New York at least) that talks about G.D. PMS on stage and I will french kiss you on the spot whether either one of us likes it or not. And c) then, in the same impossible breath, says, "If a guy wants to hear a yapping bitch, he'll just stay home with his wife."

Stop the presses.

Stop the seven expletives presses.

How can you, in one turn of phrase, suggest that women are hacks and deliver nothing but stereotypes on stage and then turn around and call the generic "wife" type a yapping bitch? Lisa, you stand on stage for an hour and drop the n-bomb 8,000 times. Doesn't that make you exactly that?! I'm not tryin' to dis you, woman, because I did a set right before you at the Strip and I watched you for an hour make people laugh and work your ass off so much so that you had mascara running down your face. You're good at what you do. But there's no denying that what you do is a style and that just because it works for you and people like it doesn't mean that a) everyone else should be like you or b) that all audiences appreciate racial slurs as comedy. (Just ask Mr. Richards.) And it's not that I don't get it - I get it - you make fun to unite people. I get it. It's cool. But don't expletive act like a tome of wisdom when it comes to "women in comedy" when obviously you see us all as bitches and cunts. Even if only a little bit. There's truth in every joke, my love. I wonder if your audience ever thinks about that.

I'm sorry - I'm not trying to have beef with LL. I'm really not. Who am I? No one. I understand that. But I'm just saying, the best thing "women in comedy" can do for "women in comedy" is not propagate this absolutely dead image of shoulder pads and period jokes. Why try and make yourself look good at other people's expense?

And so what if there are people out there that do that stuff? Let that be their "problem." Not ALL of ours. There are just as many men who talk about balls as there are women who talk about vag. Let's get over this! Some people get away with talking about vag and balls and some people are considered hacks when they do it. Why? Delivery, presence, creativity, likability, the list goes on. Comedy is subjective, some people are better at it than others. Case closed.

When people don't want to hear "female" topics on stage - whatever those may be - that's just another way of silencing women in our culture. Is marriage a female topic? No. Jim Gaffigan is married. Louis CK is married. Chris Rock is married. Brian Posehn is married. Is dating a female topic? No. Zach Galifianakis talks about having a broken heart on stage. Are children (gulp!) a female topic? Ah, let's hope not, considering that most of the married male comics I mentioned not only have kids but talk about them in their acts. So what the expletive is it then, huh? Is it that our pathetically sad little American culture still just wants our "yapping bitches" to shut the expletive up?

I guess so.

Or not. Is it just THE MEDIA who enjoys rubbing this issue in our faces, day in and day out? Are "women in comedy" the new propaganda issue? Are we now supposed to believe not only that Saddam had weapons of mass destruction, but that women telling expletive JOKES for ten minutes will give the children cancer?

I just don't want to hear about it anymore.

If publications like the New York Times, the Washington Post and Vanity Fair have nothing else to report about (because God knows "women in comedy" is the last pitch idea to be picked up. "Uh, did we already do the article about whether or not goldfish sleep with their eyes open?" "Yeah." "Okay, female comics it is, then.") so be it. Let's not educate the 'Merican idiots about how they're getting screwed on healthcare or why this war is a sham. Let's just reinforce what they already think about "women in comedy." I mean, why would you actually go to a comedy club (or God forbid a seedy bar in a "downtown" location) to see what women are ACTUALLY doing on stage? Why not just read about it in the paper? Or have it sent to you by a friend online.

I'm sure my friend had nothing but good intentions when she sent me this article. But I'm done. I'm done reading about "women in comedy" because I don't have to. I'm out in New York every night of the week seeing women in comedy in different types of venues. We're all people. People. You know what unites "women in comedy?" The fact that even though we have pussies, none of us are.