TONIGHT!

Going Green Has Jumped the Shark

Vespa is officially the Benetton of motor-scooters.

Times Square. Early morning. A fresh-faced, young New Yorker hands me a flier. For Vespa. It says:

Vespanomics: Curb Global Warming Now!

"Curb" Global Warming? I get it! You park a Vespa on the curb! Hahahaha... good one.

How can I curb global warming now? Simple. Get on any of the most technologically advanced, eco-friendly Vespa motor scooters and just "twist n' go" to get 70 miles per gallon and go 40-100 miles per hour, depending on the model.

Why should I do that? If Americans were to utilize one of the latest eco-friendly Vespa motor scooters for just 10% of their everyday travel, they could potentially reduce national fuel consumption by 14 million gallons of gasoline per day and decrease carbon dioxide emissions by 324 million lbs. per day.

Imagine what would happen if people actually walked! Plus, wouldn't it be great if everyone bought a Vespa in addition to their two family cars so that they could use it for 10% of their everyday travel? I know that would be my vehicle of choice for doing things like delivering pie in my lingerie and practicing my balance beam routine.

(Full disclosure: I spend 10% of my day on the beam and 35% of my day with pie.)

I wonder if that red scooter can cure AIDS?

Ta-ta for now, folks. I have to go ride side-saddle with my boyfriend who clearly doesn't care if I fall off his bike. Ciao!

Life Imitates Art

Those of you who live in New York have no doubt noticed the quirky bronze statues at the 14th Street and 8th Avenue subway station called "Life Underground" by Tom Otterness. I find the work so captivating, I felt compelled the other day to photograph it:

Thanks to Shawn, Billy, Lindsay, and the hot hipster couple we met named "Jen" and "Ben." Get Gigli with it.

Good Fortune

Found this slip of wisdom in a cookie the other night:

Yeah, like grammar.

p.s. - Lucky Numbers 33, 21, 17, 5, 49, 6.

Commute

Here's how I got from Mo Pitkin's to Weehawken last night.

Scene: Interior of a taxi cab. Two girls get in the back.

Maria: I don't know Carolyn, I just feel like I'm on a hamster wheel of doing the same shows...

Carolyn: I know, but you're doing great. You just have to keep getting up all the time and people will call you.

: What? Yous girls comedians or sumin?

Maria: Yeah.

: DO SOME JOKES!

Maria: No.

: Why not? I said do your rant for me!

Carolyn: Hey dude, what is this? Taxi Driver? Take it easy, De Niro.

: YOU TALKIN' TO ME?

Carolyn: No, dude. Calm down.

: They said I could be a comic. They said I was funny. My friends all told me...

Maria: Why didn't you?

: I am. I did. You ever heard of a little thing called HBO?

Carolyn: Taxicab Confessions?

: No. Cash Cab.

(Pause)

Maria: I've done Cash Cab.

: Yeah. They gave me $4000, but they didn't air it. They didn't like that I had ideas for them. But HBO did. They liked me. I took a guy once to CT. He wasn't goin' there. He fell asleep, and when he woke up I had to give him $100. I had to give him $100 just to get him to shut up. It was hilarious. They weren't filming it or anything, tho. I just did that. On my own.

(Pause)

: Where you goin'? You want me to take you to Weehawken?

Carolyn: No. Maria, wanna come over to my place tonight? (Winks.)

Maria: Yeah.

: WHAT? YOU SCARED OF ME NOW?

Maria: No.

: You scared I'm gonna take you to CT?

Carolyn: No, we're just having a meeting.

: OH YEAH RIGHT, YOU'RE SCARED OF ME NOW! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

(The girls throw money in the front seat and exit the cab.)

: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! YOU'RE SCARED OF ME! (Honks horn wildly and throws confetti (blood drops?) out the window, drives off.) SCARED OF MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!........

Carolyn hugs Maria, who is crying and covered in "confetti." Maria gets in another cab. Carolyn walks to the line for the 'Hawken Jitney and stands behind a man in a business shirt. A homeless woman with a black flannel shirt wrapped around her head walks up.

Homeless: Can you spare some change, sir? I don't have a home.

Man in shirt gives her change.

Homeless: You ain't gonna give no mo'? After all that? You gonna f*ck with me? I'll call the cops on you!

Man in shirt: What?

Homeless: I'll call the cops on you if you're gonna f*ck with me.

Man in shirt: But I gave you change...

Homeless: AND YOU GOT ALL THEM $20'S IN YOUR POCKET! AFTER YOU BUILT ALL THIS! (grand gesture toward Port Authority) THAT'S GONNA BE SWALLOWED BY THE EARTH - IT'S GONNA GO BACK TO THE EARTH - AND I AIN'T GOT NO PLACE TO LIVE....

Man in shirt: God bless you, too, lady...

Homeless: THE WHITE BEAR IN THE SKY IS GONNA COME TAKE IT ALL! (She walks off, not talking to anyone else in the line.)

Carolyn: Wow. I would have said something if I wasn't afraid she'd kill me.

Man in shirt: That's what I get for giving...

So. True.

'Hawken Jitney appears.

: Boulevard East? Hop on!

Carolyn shuffles to middle of the bus and sits in the window seat next to a Handsome, Young, African Man. They look at each other and smile. The bus takes off. The floor drops beneath their feet.

Carolyn: Do you feel the floor moving beneath our feet?

HYAM: Yes, I feel it.

Carolyn: Man, this bus is held together with duct tape!

The bus goes over a bump, and the wall feels like it's about to fall off.

Carolyn: Okay - if the bus falls apart, grab that poll.

HYAM: Ha-ha, ok. (He is unfazed. Maybe it reminds him of home?)

The bus travels, accordion-like, through the Lincoln Tunnel. As it pulls out into the Weehawken night and rounds the steep curve of the highway, the tires begin to rub against the metal side of the bus.

Carolyn: Um, I think something is burning.

: Really? I don't smell anything.

Carolyn: Oh. Are you sure? Cuz it smells like burnt rubber back here.

Carolyn: Anyway, next stop! Thanks. Have a good night. See you tomorrow...

Blog Talk Radio Interview with Miss CKC

Hey, peeps. Click this link to hear last night's show, hosted by Licious of Blog Talk Radio. Scroll down and click the July 19th episode. Look for a follow-up interview on VH1's The Blogspot.

Speaking of the beat, you can't stop it.

I can't tell you how excited I am for this:

I get jumpy inside just thinking about it! But seriously - why didn't they just cast me?

I guess some of us are just more feminine than others. You win, John. You win.

Beat It!

Here's a fun pic from the last Beatdown at Mo Pitkin's. It was sold out and I was the runner-up. See? I won a beer!

Race Rat

After a day of catching up with my boy TAN and thus being directed to the fascinating Undercover Black Man, I ran into my friend (and brilliant comic) Rachel Feinstein and her boyfriend on the bus to Weeeeeeehawken last night. The hours I spent learning about Lawrence Auster's take on jungle fever and reliving my experience through this post with the-band-that-shall-not-be-named must have left race on my mind, because the first thing I blurted out to Rachel's BF was:

"Oh, is this the white man you deserve?"

Now, people, here is why you should not look at a quote out of context. Rachel has a joke about how she used to date a lot of black and Hispanic men, but now she's dating a white man, because "she deserves it." It's hilarious and very well-presented as a part of her larger set. (And believe me, boy, is her set large!) Ba-dump-bump-lady-lump, tit!

However, repeated out of context (and shouted out whilst sitting between a black man and a Hispanic woman - did I mention that part?), it might cause some kind of misunderstanding. Fortunately the man next to me was engrossed in his Blackberry (no pun intended), but the woman jerked up and threw out a crazy look. Now, I can't say I blame her, but I was so busy talking to Rachel and her BF, I didn't really notice. Thankfully the woman didn't make a stink and probably caught on that it was a joke given that we talked about comedy the whole way home. But who's to say? Do we presume each other innocent until proven guilty? Most of the time, no. So I gave the black guy next to me a hand-job for good measure.

Anything for a better world, people! Anything for a better world...

Hush, baby girl.... You too stoopid to talk.