I tell my cheeky friend that he cannot ever post this video to YouTube or I'll kill him. Then I watch the video and realize it contains nothing but me being a cagey minx dropping common first names and flashing blurry computer screens.
Then I realize it quite possibly rivals Fellini's "8 1/2" in terms of sheer cinematic brilliance.
IT was fight night at an L.A. comedy club last week when Jon Lovitz roughed up Andy Dick over the murder of their "Saturday Night Live" colleague, Phil Hartman.
Laugh Factory owner Jamie Masada, who witnessed the assault, said, "Jon picked Andy up by the head and smashed him into the bar four or five times, and blood started pouring out of his nose." Lovitz told Page Six, "All the comedians are glad I did it because this guy is a [bleep]hole."
Lovitz and Dick have been at loggerheads since a 1997 Christmas party at Hartman's house, five months before his troubled wife Brynn flipped out, fatally shooting Hartman, then killing herself. "Andy was doing cocaine, and he gave Brynn some after she had been sober for 10 years. Phil was furious about it - and then five months later he's dead," said Lovitz, adding that when he filled in on Hartman's "Newsradio" sitcom, "I told Andy, 'I wouldn't be here now if you hadn't given Brynn that cocaine.' "
Last year, Lovitz related, a drunken Dick strolled up to his table at Ago in West Hollywood, rudely downed his guests' peach liqueur drinks, and "looked at me and said, 'I put the "Phil Hartman hex" on you - you're the next one to die.' I said, 'What did you say?' and he repeated it. I wanted to punch his face in, but I don't hit women."
When the two ran into each other at the Laugh Factory last Wednesday, "I wanted him to say he was sorry for the 'Phil Hartman hex,' " Lovitz told us. "First he says, 'I don't remember saying that.' Then he leans in and says, 'You know why I said it? Because you said I killed Phil Hartman.' Which I never said. Then he asked me to be in his new movie.
"I grabbed him by the shirt and leaned him over and said, 'I don't want to be in your movie! I don't want to be in your life!' I pushed him against the rail. Then I pushed him again really hard. A security guard broke it up. I'm not proud of it . . . but he's a disgusting human being." Dick's rep said he had no comment.
I'm heading out to LA this weekend, where I'm staying with my friend Kyle Kinane. He's the one who told me about the death of Pat Brice, an uber-talented young Chicago comic who unexpectedly passed away over the weekend. He was 29.
I was talking to Kyle tonight and hearing how this kid in addition to being a hysterical, balls-to-the-wall comic also just absolutely sucked the marrow out of life. Absolutely. A presence in the room, a force, let nothing stop him. Joy.
I was trying to relate, trying to say anything that might be useful but mainly listened to his memory of his last time with Pat and ended up crying myself.
Life is so hard, it is so hard, and the only thing you can do when you stand at the crossroads is either find meaning or let the sadness overtake you.
I tried to tell Kyle about when my friend Nikki's father died suddenly, watching her at the funeral, wracked with sobs and how I had never seen raw grief that up close and personal before. And then she went to the podium and delivered one of the most gorgeous, inspiring, moving eulogies I've ever heard in my life. It was about how her dad always lived life to the fullest, and so when she thinks about where her dad is, she thinks about him being in his favorite place of all: Hawaii, drinking his favorite drink there, eating his favorite food.
Because that's how he lived his life. To the fullest. Enjoying every minute. Figuring it out. Doing it.
And that's what we needed to do for him.
It's the only thing you can take away from grief, right? What you carry on.
Here's Brice. Funny, brash with laugh out loud precision.
And here's an email I wrote to Nikki several years ago. Made me happy to remember her perfectly graceful transition from darkness into light.
hey,
want to know something pretty cool about you?
i think my big gospel of positivity actually takes a major dose of inspiration from, in MANY ways, the eulogy you gave at your dad's funeral.
i mean, gosh, that sounds weird. but i truly believe that that was a really...unforgettable summation of just the cruelty, the difficulty, the sadness, the disappointment, the etc of life.
and then you take all that sadness, and say fuck it.
order hawaiian, and you live life euphorically, just like your dad.
After writing my big pimpin' article, I wrote this adorable little caption quoting an apt OutKast lyric:
Ain't goin' do nuthin' but try to take all your motherfuckin' cheese
Yesterday I received this voicemail from my sister.
"I'm just wondering why you're trying to take people's cheese. I don't get that. Especially since you put a bad word in front of it. Is there bad cheese? I did not know that. I'm curious about this cheese."
Nice work, Amie. That's a pretty fantastic message.
To explain, I'm going to let this lipsynching young man and his dog do their best interpretation of OutKast's classic ditty "We Love Deez Hoez."
My theory, Amie, is that "cheese" is a gentleman's money.
'P-I-M-P mean 'Put it in my pocket,' " explains Pimpin' Ken Ivy, the author of the new "Pimpology: The 48 Laws of the Game" book,
which takes the Machiavelli-meets-hip-hop craze to its next logical level.
"Who don't want it in their pocket? Anybody who wants it in their pocket, they a pimp to me."
Call it the latest incarnation of the "selfish-help" oeuvre of writing.
To make the philosophy clearer - in case "Keep Ho's on Their Toes" isn't clear enough for you - Ivy writes, "In life what is expensive seems valuable, and what's available for free seems worthless.
Dear Magnificent Mandy i am very interested in you ,i am male 27 years old from Egypt , my name is Moustafa , i am graphic , fashion and web designer , i have a very bright future , i am very smart ( that's why i picked you) , sensitive , funny , and i take responsibilities very well , i like all kind of sports .i need someone like you to love , and to be loved , you are an angel , not less , maybe even prettier than angels , i wish you give me a chance to know you , and to be close to you. i never imagined this level of beauty exist Mandy.
and I met one of the funniest, most delightful blagueurs in all of Paris. Thanks for the hookup, Nikki and J.P. If you ever meet the wondrous being who is Meg, you must ask her to do an imitation of her vagina as performance art puppet.
Or better yet, just say, "Do Slacky for me. Mandy promised."
I'm at a Taco Bell drive thru that's taking particularly long. But now I discover a sign saying the speaker is not "workin'." Saddest sign in North America.
The 32-year-old Black Eyed Peas singer is the first global star to consent to product placement in her songs - agreeing to include the provocative clothing line Candie's in her lyrics.
I was inspired by your article and thought of taking a date back to my apartment for some salsa dancing. I don't know how to salsa dance, but can breakdance like a well-oiled robot. After an hour of headspins, gyros, and pop-em-and-lock-ems, I asked my date what she thought. She told me you had me at electric boogaloo.
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