We interrupt this blog...

...to move. Be back shortly.

Last Night's Party

Hit The Delancey last night for a lil' birthday shindig for three of my girls. (Happy Birthday Laura, Livia and Katina!) Skipped up to the velvet rope and saw my gays Shawn and Allen who I tired to get in with. Big ol' bouncer dude said no, because I didn't have a license. I said, "I'm here for a birthday party. I'm carrying three little Duane Reade present bags!" Though that would be a clever guise for a crack dealer, trust me, they were just filled with Wet-n-Wild.

I proceeded to argue with Douche McDouchester because he let some blond girl in without asking for her ID; I looked him straight in the face and asked, "Why would you do that? Why would you let her in but not let me in? Have you not seen these present bags???" I resigned myself to the fact that I got the fat dis and waited for someone to come downstairs. My plan was to hand off the nail slicks and lip gloss then peace. I wouldn't want to get into a club that would let me in, anyway... (Thanks for that bullshit mantra, Groucho.)

Douchetastic made me wait about 7 minutes, and just as tears were welling up in my eyes, Touching You (aka CXB) walked up, also without ID, and managed somehow through the magic that is only his, to GET US BOTH IN! He mumbled something about NYC sucking because it's changed so much, cops, argh, blah blah, and before I knew it, Douche was smiling and we were on our way to the roof! Thank God we made it in, because it was great to see everyone. Especially Margot, because I'm really concerned about her HPV.

SHE DOESN'T HAVE IT, guys! But she loves to talk about it... The Hello Kitty band-aid was hot, kid. Keep gettin' those shots, gurl!

Click the pic to see individual shots. (No pun intended, Margot.)

p.s. - I was just reminded for a second time that I missed seeing Alan Cumming last night who I adore! Oh, Alan, stop vanishing on me...

Krup You!

Dear Officer Krupke,

Thanks for pulling me over while I was on my way to work this morning. I really appreciate your dedication to and concern for my safety. I realize it's INSANE (!) to not wear a seat belt whilst driving on an island so populated with cars and people that top speeds of 30 MPH are all that can be reached. I don't know what I was thinking. I really appreciate the fact that you took the time (after spending 30 minutes trying to find my name in your Big Brother database) to ask me if I had a reason for not wearing my seat belt. The truth is, I'm vehemently opposed to safety restraints, which is why I've encouraged my 20 month old daughter to ride roller coasters sans harness. Survival of the Fittest - you know what I mean??? I know you do, Officer, because you are a man. A true man. And you smelled like fried fish at 8:30 in the morning.

That, my friend, is the mark of a true genius.

Always,
Carolyn

Introducing the fifth, final, formerly missing member of the Upright Citizens Brigade:

Face it.

I'm adorable.

Anya Garrett is a Tease.

I Can Has Internet?

My cat Smitty gets around.

He's a lot like me.

For more lolcatz, visit:

You're such a cut-up!

I just got rid of my credit card. Oh, don't worry - I got a new one. (I mean, come on...) But I'm pretty excited about it. I "transferred the balance of my high-rate credit cards to one card with 0% interest til May 2008!" Yipee! That means I have about a year to pay off approximately $6,500. So, let's do the math: $6,500/52 weeks = never gonna happen. But I still feel great! Why? Because as long as I pay them the minimum $60/month I am going to feel like a very rich girl. By the time a year is over, I'll have paid off $720, leaving only $5,780 to be paid at 36% interest. THAT IS A GREAT DEAL! Who wants to celebrate?! Drinks are on me...

Anybody feel like breakfast?

Let the healing begin.

I just read two terribly depressing articles, one right out of Erin Brockovich about contaminated water at Camp Lejeune and another out of Madea's Family Reunion about black patients receiving inadequate health care. Horrible on both counts. But don't worry - I did a little Googling and I think this will help:

There. I hope everyone feels better.

My Kind of Horrible

Just kickin' back, watchin' the TONY awards. I waited all night to get a little sneak peak of "Spring Awakening," since I know I'll never get to see it now that it's won 8 billion awards. Guess what? To quote the show:

"Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah..." (lather, rinse, repeat).

AWFUL!

Not the talent - I'm sure the talent is wonderful. I actually thought the girl portraying the lead was quite beautiful with a lovely voice. But the music? Dear sweet Lord!

Which made me realize: every generation has their own unique kind of horrible that they just have to love. For me and my pals, it was RENT. As an adult, I can recognize how problematic the lyrics are and how simple some of the music is. But as a BFA candidate in Fag-Haggery, oh my God was I in love! Being a quirky kid in Upstate New York, RENT spoke to my (AIDS-riddled, bohemian, East Village squatting, Hispanic stripper junkie) soul. There's no explaining it, because you just wouldn't get it, dude.

I guess my point is, why all the hot fuss? This is far from the first rock musical to hit Broadway. Anybody ever heard of a little piece called HAIR?

Oh my God - they just won the TONY for Best Musical. Eh. I guess I don't want to go anyway. I'll just stay home and listen to "Barely Breathing." {sigh}

Nigeria

Or should I say Nigeri-ugh?

While trolling the internet today, I learned about the indictment of William Jefferson over his "business" deals with Nigeria. (You might be entertained by this uber-romantic plea for justice.)

Strangely enough, I also happened to read fellow comic Anthony DeVito's saga with the Nigerian government. I guess it is a small world after all...

TONY!

Here's a sneak peak at what James Gandolfini will be doing next fall:

Pop Quiz

I took this quiz in Time Out New York last night to find out my New York age. Turns out it's 25, which sounds about right to me, given that I'm a pretty cool kitty who likes to have fun-n-stuff, and I'm still kinda rockin' that just-outta-college broke vibe. I've never really minded being poor, except for the fact that my poverty precludes me from eating all the fabulous meals the rich and famous (or steadily employed) can afford.

That got me thinking about the important role food plays in the lives of all New Yorkers. From pizza to Pastis, New York is a culinary haven. Take this quiz to see how much of it you've enjoyed.

WHAT'S YOUR NEW YORK DINING STYLE?

1. It's late, you're drunk, and you need a snack. You:

A) Eat the mini-carrots you've had in your bag since lunch.
B) Put more olives in your next martini.
C) Go to Gray's Papaya for the Recession Special.
D) Give a blow job for the free "coconut smoothie."

2. Breakfast is:

A) What?
B) Coffee.
C) Bagel.
D) A coconut milkshake.

3. I usually have _______ for lunch:

A) A sandwich from home.
B) A quick salad from Pax/Cosi/Cafe Europa.
C) Clients at Le Cirque.
D) A smoothmilkcoconutshake.

4. A special dinner means:

A) Adding vegetables to the Ramen.
B) Sharing family style Italian with friends.
C) Going to Spice Market with my betrothed.
D) El milkshake de coconut.

5. Dessert is:

A) Something I never touch!

B) A cone from Mister Softee.

C) Cannoli and Cappuccino in Little Italy.

D) Sperm.

ANSWER KEY:

If you answered mostly A's:

You're an idealist who's (hopefully) fresh out of college and working at some sappy non-profit, which means you're either diet-conscious, broke, or both. Lighten up a little bit, tree-hugger, and learn how to have a good time! Earth's defense doesn't have to be at your expense.

If you answered mostly B's:

You're probably young(ish) and work in advertising or television. Keep your Steve Madden heels on the ground and your head in the stars and one day you'll wear Narciso to Nobu.

If you answered mostly C's:

You're a big time investment banker with a cocaine habit (see Gray's Papaya) and frat boy roots (see Little Italy). Once you get married and move to CT your only excitement will be the tawdry affair you have with your admin in the handicapped bathroom, so keep on rockin' 'til the clock stops tick-tockin'! You are the reason New York is great.

If you answered mostly D's:

You're either a prostitute, a monkey, or both.

(Either way, you should probably spend less time answering quizzes and more time dating Matt Sears.)

Pitchapalooza Outtakes

From the shoot I did at AOL with Perry Farrell. Thanks, Sara!

p.s. - Did you see him on Letterman last night? Serendipity again!

Featured on SuperDeluxe

I got an email yesterday saying that I'd be featured today on the "People" page of SuperDeluxe.com. Yay! So I go to the page a few moments ago and see this:

Notice any discrepancies?

Um, first of all, why not put everyone on the same page without categorizing by gender? Secondly, how come the women don't get thumbnails of their videos? The section advertising the two videos by the "dudes" is twice the size of the section advertising twice the amount of videos by the women. Plus, there are links to actual videos by the men and only links to the profiles of the women. This gender differentiation is especially upsetting to me, because my amazing rap video is lumped in (no cancer pun intended) with "Hidden Breast Cam," "The Rag" (great...) and some video about Jewish marriages. (Oy!) Now, maybe these shorts are fantastic - I don't want to be one to judge a video by its cover - but this seems to me like a classic Sesame Street setup for "One of these things is not like the other..."

Now, before I sound like a hypocrite, let me say today is Tuesday and that means tonight I'll be at the show I host each and every week, Chicks and Giggles (8 pm, Mo Pitkin's - you should totally come - it's free and reeeally fun), an all-female stand-up showcase. So you may be asking yourself, "Carolyn, if you do a stand-up show that features only women, why do you care if you're grouped in with the "Chicks" on SuperDeluxe?" And therein lies the contrariety. Women are treated like second class citizens, so we rally together, and then it's assumed that we're fine with being lumped. Look at it this way: we all know the golden rule about Mom-bashing. I can call my mom a See Ya Next Tuesday because I slid into this life out of hers. But if you even think about it, you're dead meat. Same thing goes for all-lady events/schools/websites, etc. If we choose to girl-it-up in a group, so be it. But if you shove us together because you think we're not good enough to roll with the boys, you're ghettoizing us.

Why does it work that way? I can't say. Yes, we get the pass of the oppressed. Maybe when Obama/Clinton rule the White House we'll be able to change that. But until then, gimmie a thumbnail for my video, dammit.

Love,
Carolyn

You Must Take the A Train

Today, in a span of two Harlem blocks, I saw a young albino girl, a woman with Vitiligo (which I always have thought must be horrible, even though I know it's painless. I just imagine it's a little bit heartbreaking when it first happens.) and two female midgets. And that's not even the interesting part.

As I walked by the little people (that sounds so Gulliver's Travels to me... is "midget" the n-word among short persons?), the girl on the right (the one wearing the sweatpants that said "Princess" on the ass) turns to the girl on the left (wearing plain grey sweats) and says, "No. We're only going to get my crack, and we're not stopping anywhere on the way."

Clearly this would still be entertaining were the women not teeny-tiny, but since they were, I found the whole thing perfectly surreal in a sort of Toulouse-Lautrec as portrayed by John Leguizamo in the 2001 cinema fantasy Moulin Rouge! kind of way.

While you're planning your week...

You should definitely add this to your calendar:



Leibya's gonna blow... your mind.