I'm doing Becky Ciletti and Sue Ball's new show Chicken Dinner on Wed., Nov. 15, 6:30 p.m., at Parkside Lounge, 317 East Houston Street.
It's with Jordan Carlos (E!, Stephen Colbert's black friend) and Rob Apuzzo (being a funny dude, MySpace). This violates my "no shows until I write my fucking book proposal" rule but it's because I agreed to it a while back.
Before taping a little rebuttal for Howard Stern's iN Demand program on Friday, I watched Andy Dick's recent appearance on the Sirius show.
I'd say the highlight is when Dick whips out the handwritten note to me he's still carrying around in that spiral-bound notebook of his. However, on Sirius he reads a part of the letter that the Washington Post so politely euphemizes with the much daintier "Etc."
That would be the part where Andy Dick calls me a "dried up cunt."
Here's the question I have. Will I ever be able to hear "Etc." the same way again?
"So good to catch up! Etc."
"Give all my love to your family, your mom, your dad. Etc."
"Have you considered K-Y Jelly? Etc."
As I was telling Steve, I really wanted my rebuttal to be simply: "I am not a dried-up cunt. Thank you."
Steve had a much better idea.
"No," he offered. "You should have just said, 'I am not dried up.'"
What upsets me the most is the fact that now everyone's going to assume I stole my Halloween costume idea from Andy.
So many things to learn about Andy Dick's recent stint in rehab
I'm taping a little response for Howard Stern's iN Demand TV show tomorrow that they're using when they air Andy Dick's in-studio appearance. At Christian Finnegan's CD release party last night (you can buy "Two For Flinching" now!) I was telling Lindsay and voice of Daria Tracy Grandstaff (who is actually working on a new show with Andy) about watching his appearance this month on Letterman and how fascinating I found it. He talks about the number of times he's been in rehab, is pretty hilarious making fun of Robin Williams' recent red-carpet stint there and says how when he drinks no one's having a good time—except for him. Now see, that's what makes us so different. When I drink everyone has a good time! And even better, "Employee of the Month" never gets made.
Know what verbal tics to avoid through yet another handy mnemonic device called "gotcha."
These drop-dead giveaways are: grunting, odd words ("I did not gesticulate with that woman, Miss Lewinsky"), time-outs (pauses), changes in tone, hissy fits (when someone brings up a "chill pill" you know you've gone wrong - not only as a liar, but also in life), and asking to repeat the question.
Laura totally had my gift bag. Laura fucking rules.
The friend who I possibly hit on was apparently so drunk he doesn't remember anything. Alcohol fucking rules.
The owner of the restaurant where I ate 20 pounds of pancakes last night excitedly pounded on the window as I passed by today. I fucking rule. Jim Norton continues to be, well, let me share this with you.
Me: glad you didn't meet me last night when i was shit fucking faced in the village
Jim: i never mind meeting a gal who is shitfaced. Me: so fun to look at my digital camera this morning and see all these pictures of me on my friend who totally has a gf and i am not like that's lap. bourbon!
Jim: NICE. makes me happy. i love a gal who has beverages then parks her ass on a leg. excellent.
I turn 31. My niece writes me an adorable card. "I love you so munch. I am glad you are heere in this great big woould with me. PS I am glad you are here with me." Dudes I have made out with send me birthday wishes. I receive an eCard. My mom gives me a cowboy hat with sparkly dots. My ex calls. He says I am a wonderful person. Twice. We go to a restaurant. We eat pizza. I delicately nibble. I introduce everyone. Someone sees Demetri Martin. I explain how I bought a hot dress when I saw him perform. I explain how I have resolved to not fool around with any more comics. I explain how I made this resolution since learning of the term "chucklefucker." Many jokes about glory holes are made. I talk about my lesbian roommates' firm bodies. Someone is going to a bachelor party at a strip club in Queens later. Steve tells this person to prepare himself for lots of cesarean scars and stretch marks. The busboy is carrying a sparkler and singing happy birthday. You can tell he really means it. Melissa gives me removable bling tattoos. Melissa drops a wine glass. Melissa drops a tray of pizza. You can tell she really means it. I drink 900 glasses of wine. Many more jokes about glory holes are made. More inquiries as to the lesbians' firm bodies. Talk about sex. Talk about sex. Talk about sex. Talk about Grand Theft Auto. Shakti has to leave because of her expensive dog. I explain what a glory hole is because someone doesn't know. I am totally wrong. I drink 622 more glasses of wine. I spill my Makers. I drunk dial Jim Norton. I drunk text Jim Norton. I drunk dial 27 other people. I leave all my presents at a bar. I'm pretty sure I hit on my friend who has a girlfriend. I eat pancakes and bacon and frozen yogurt. I drink Super Food energy beverage. I check my MySpace account. I check my Nerve account. It is the most perfect birthday ever.
Don't blow your paycheck at Bloomie's, girlfriend - it's baby time in Botswana!
Developing world? Developing trend! Madonna just scooped up toddler David in Malawi (we'll forgive the lame-o name since she looked so fab in funky sunglasses!), Brangelina's proudly sporting Zahara (we'll forgive her latest from the loin since she looked so fab in funky Namibia!) and then, of course, Oprah, Bono and the Billinda Gates Foundation are up to their usual tricks.
(Please note: No cooties implied here, whatsoever.) First up is a 16-year-old junior who was actually compared to the Seattle tech gazillionaire by a classmate of his. A big "Halo" buff, Andrew Caldecutt has a near 4.0, wants to be a pilot and digs the Harry Potter series. He thought "Click" looked pretty funny.
Next up is 17-year-old senior Esther Park. Currently taking AP psychology, a big fan of Korean pop music and the designer of her church's new logo, Park has a twin sister. She has every constitutional amendment memorized.
Here I am chatting with a strange girl from the internet whom I barely know. For all I know she could be an international woman of mystery, a Depends undergarment model, or dare I say a disgruntled circus clown. Please don't hurt me! Put down the rubber chicken! Not your typical introduction and then again I am not your typical man. You on the other hand seem to be a fun and outgoing woman. Care for a witty exchange of words?
There is nothing that makes me want to kill myself more than an unfunny person trying to be funny.
Not your typical reaction and then again I am not your typical....sorry, just threw up in my mouth a little bit.
Suitor #2
Hi Cuttie. gosh you are a real beauty.i am Jerry. 32 yrs,5'7ft, lov goin to the water fall,I Work with An Oil Company .i am here for a serious relationship.i find you so attractive nd i wish we ave something going on.pls you could send me back a mail tell me wht you think..hey you gat a very pleasent smile....
I recommend reading his note in a peppy Jamaican accent. ("Find you so attractive nd i wish we ave something going on.pls you could send me back a mail tell me wht you think.")
Count Dracula also works.
Suitor #3
Damn Gurl, lol "dont hate the playuh hate the game baby, hate the game" , lol you are definately a cutie
well , you seems as pretty on the inside, as you are on the outside,
just goofing off after getting back from the gym.
so i am sorry that i have to inform you but incase you havent been told today;
As late-night's most active merry prankster, Jimmy Kimmel explains,
"You have to admire a guy like Johnny Knoxville who is a multi-millionaire with a real film career. Any sane person would have said, 'Jackass was a great starting point for me, now I'm going to make movies.' But instead he's getting hit by a yak and he's on a rocket exploding over a lake. It's preposterous."
Dick reads: "You printed all that crap about me when I asked you nicely to be on my side please and print something good. You came into my dressing room uninvited and we were all having a good time. You included. You know when something is printed in black and white it reads differently. You slanted everything. Why would you take advantage of me? Why would you kick a man when he's down? I guess you don't believe in God or karma or anything beside making a quick buck or promoting your lame comedy. Please, don't use me as your fodder. I think you are more of a monster every day than I am when I'm drinking. I certainly do hope I run into your sorry pathetic . . . " Etc.
So Andy Dick has a hand-written letter to me he keeps in a spiral notebook. No word on whether he still thinks I look like a fucking coke whore. Plenty of word on the fact that he thinks I'm using him to promote my "lame comedy."
Which is what the little self-affirmation above my bed says.
Have you thought about how you can use Andy Dick to make a quick buck or promote your lame comedy today?
I've also decided to start a line of greeting cards that say,
"I think you are more of a monster than I am ... every day."
"I certainly do hope I run into your sorry, pathetic ... Etc."
"You printed all that crap about me ... when I asked you nicely to be on my side please and print something good."
Listen, this is well-written article, full of many David Chase-worthy pithicisms about the deeper meaning of human consciousness. But I think it's important to say what I said to Howard Stern's reporter when he interviewed me (and how funny that in the end, it's Stern's show that is more thorough in its reporting than The Washington Post). Was I appalled? Yeah. I've never had someone force themselves on me like that, let alone bite me. I was shaking. I came out of Dick's dressing room, showed the bite to my friend Maggie Bandur, who said, "Jesus Christ, are you OK?", mentioned it to the Comedy Central publicist and in those 2 seconds realized: I'm going to write this story for The Post, but I'm not going to take any legal action. It was ridiculous, it was absurd, it was frightening and yes, it was also totally hysterical. That doesn't make it right. That just makes it what it was.
That's the weird thing about Andy Dick. I think he's a brilliant comic mind who's very troubled. My guess is that he's such a great improviser (he studied at ImprovOlympic with Charna Halpern who I also studied with) that he's always wanting to up the ante. So he does. But in his desire to take it just a little bit farther (because, yes, that usually is hilarious), he can go way too far. Aggressively trying to kiss and licking someone as she resists, grabbing her chest and biting (if the skin had been broken, I think I would have passed out) is taking it too far. That's assault.
Was he scary? Yeah. Was he hilarious? Yeah. That was the freakiness of the entire encounter: it's a powerful, unsettling combination.
My therapist asked me when this happened: Are you OK? My friends asked me: Are you OK? My parents asked me: Do you want to hear about the new kitchen remodeling project? I am, and I do.
As I told Stern's Steve Langford, Dick is lucky. Because most women would have pressed charges. I used to cover courts and getting involved in a legal battle with a nutcase is just about the last thing I want to do.
In terms of Dick's allegation that I went to his dressing room uninvited, that's blatantly false. I wanted to interview him at the after-party where everyone else was. That's where I interviewed every other damn comedian. Dick indicated I had to follow him. He first tried to take me out back where it would have just been the two of us but a security guard prevented him. When that plan failed, he took me to his dressing room for the interview.
The main thing that creeps me out about this WP story is the fact that the man bit me on the hand like a rabid dog and it's not mentioned at all. Kind of an important detail to completely neglect when talking about coverage of the incident. Explains why the press headlines, quoted in the beginning of the article, were so reactionary.
However, when all is said and done, it is Andy Dick we're talking about here.
It is Andy Dick.
And, to me, the fact that he still can't seem to figure out why I didn't write something nice after what happened that night...is quite possibly, the funniest thing he's done in a very long time.
my unimpressible friend Jim Ellwanger when he wrote to tell me that Gene Weingarten mentioned me in his online chat today.
I decided not to further blow Jim's mind by telling him that at the timehe emailed me I was in the middle of a Will Shortz-Dave Barry hug sandwich.
Also because that would have been false.
Gene is a Gene-ius in case you didn't know. He really is. When I interned at The Washington Post in 1997, everyone wandered around pointing, "There's the genius." An exaggeration, but only slightly. Here's an excerpt and a link to the chat. (Aptonym writeup via Mediabistro LA and courtesy of the always funny Mayrav Saar.)
Okay, what follows is simply the greatest aptonym in the history of aptonymia. I learned about it from my friend Mandy Stadtmiller, who is a writer in New York, and alerted me to this little item. It is the best example I can think of of someone REALLY living up to his name.
I'm such a judgmental twat about people who misspell things that when I wrote that little fellatio witticism I just shared with you, I in fact Googled "fellatio" first.
Which led me to wonder... what's more popular?
Blow jobs, or fellatio?
Drum roll please.
#1 Blow jobs (did you mean blowjobs?) with 3,640,000 hits
#2 Fellatio with 3,080,000 hits
As you can see, I did not compete in the Greater San Diego Science Fair for nothing, my friends.
That's what you call a double-blind placebo-controlled dick joke.
Why conversing with me is endlessly exhausting and apt to remind you at times of an adorable, slightly retarded poodle
Clerk: (as I unwrap orange Orbitz bubble gum immediately after purchasing it) You couldn't wait, huh?
Me: It's really good. My friend Suzie who had her bachelorette party this weekend introduced me to it in the cab ride home after we all went to this panty party. Do you want a piece?
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