Man, what a weekend!


So I’m working at the DC Improv this weekend with Louis C.K. and Andy Campbell. Andy and I have worked together before. He’s a great comic and an awesome guy, and Louis C.K., well what can you say? He’s amazing, AND he’s behind probably one of my favorite characters of the late 90’s… Pootie Tang. Honestly, I still have a hotmail address…, after Pootie Tang’s signature line. Also, I’d like to point out how appropriate the title of my 4/25 entry was, considering the fact that I’m working with Louis C.K… The shows have been great up to this point and we’ve still got one more to go, but the highlight of the weekend was meeting Chris Rock… He stopped by to hang out with Louis while I was on stage last nite, and when I walked back into the greenroom I almost lost my breath. No way to play that one off at all :) He didn’t end up doing any time, but just getting to talk to him for the short time I did was amazing. I’ve seen him perform live before and I’ve been a fan since…… forever….. but I never imagined meeting Chris Rock and ME being a comedian. Man…..

And if that wasn’t awesome enough, XM Radio has been taping all weekend and Andy is shooting his DVD, so I’ll be able to get all my audio on CD and great video footage of all my sets… PLUS I still get paid to do this… What could be better?


(eks’ tra jok a sī­t is) n. 1. taking a joke or conversation one joke past the funny. 

My friend Angela tells me all the time that I have extrajokasitis… and I don’t disagree. But I think that’s a pretty good quality to have as a comedian. I mean, taking an average everyday concept and stretching it to the point of absurdity is the definition of what we do. It’s what makes great comics great, and I wanna be great one day. Now, that said, outside of comedy, there are very few situations in which extrajokasitis is beneficial. Everybody loves funny people, but I don’t know how many times I’ve been at work or some other random place, written or said something I thought was hilarious, gotten a blank stare or e-mail crickets, and then had to ask, “Too far, huh?” It stinks sometimes, but I hope I never lose that. Because once I stop thinking one joke or one obscure reference ahead, I’m done. And really it’s the only way to know when you’ve gotten as much as you can out of a joke… So cheers for extrajokasitis! May they never find a cure.

Ice Cream Caddy

I understand that I live in the hood, but there are some things that are even too hood for the hood. On Saturday afternoon – no lie – I saw a Cadillac creeping down a major street in my neighborhood with pictures of ice cream and popsicles all over the doors and panels… I didn’t actually see the driver selling any candy or ice cream, but I can only assume he was driving around with the intent to distribute. I watch Law and Order. You can go to jail for that.

Now, maybe he’s the regular Ice Cream Man and his white van was in the shop, but there have got to be some vendor restrictions that prohibit people from just turning any old car into an ice cream truck. Selling Rocket Pops out of an old Caddy is not just unsanitary, it’s a little creepy. Plus, how in the hell does he keep all his goodies frozen while he drives around all day? I have a hard time keeping my ground beef frozen if I make more than one stop on the way home from the grocery store.
All that to say, if you happen to see one of these Ice Cream Caddy’s in your neighborhood, report it to the police, or at least the health department. You don’t want to be responsible for your kids getting turned out by a Popsicle Pimp.

Damn those Internet hoaxes

So this would have been the greatest story ever – the stuff comedians live for… Puffy suing Proactiv (which he endorses) for not “preserving his sexy.” Some of you may have heard about this earlier in the week. He was supposedly suing them for $1.5 million for failing to remove the bumps from his face. And Proactiv supposedly countered with the argument that the amount of Diet Pepsi he drinks neutralizes the product’s effectiveness… Now in retrospect, I realize how crazy it sounds, but this is not beyond the realm of possibility for Puff. As rich as he is, he’s done some pretty “unsmart” things in the past. And I mean, he’s gotta recoup the money from all those failed attempts at Making the Band somehow… I was hoping it was true, but it turned out to be an April Fool’s joke. Damn, Damn, Damn…

I’ll take Potpourri for $200, Alec

Yeah, so I don’t have a lot to say today, but the incomparable Larry Poon told me that I should update my journal more often, so here goes…
Pt. 1 – Garanimals

I didn’t realize they still made Garanimals. I wonder why they never made them for adults??? Life was so much easier when all you had to do was roll out of bed, match up your Charlie the Chimp tops and bottoms and head out the door. I think it’s time we petition for adult Garanimals. It would save tons of time in the mornings, we could all sleep in a little later… I think it’d be cool if they added a Big & Tall Garanimals line too, cuz how funny would it be to hear a 6’4″ 300-pound man ask, “Honey, have you seen my Paulie the Panda’s? We have that thing with my boss tonite and I really want to look sharp…”

What if it really caught on? Can you imagine what it’d be like on the red carpet at the Oscars?
Interviewer: Beyonce, you look fabulous! Who are you wearing?
Beyonce: Oh this? this is Lisa the Llama… and I set it off with a Mindy the Mink stole and some Gina the Gator pumps…

That would be hot.

Pt. 2 – Rolling briefcases

I think people who use rolling briefcases on the subways should be arrested. Really, if you’ve got so much work that you need a wheelbarrow to carry it all, you should quit your job — or at least drive there. I’m sick of people rolling over my toes, tripping me up and making me miss trains because they’re dragging their luggage thru the subway station. And hey, if you absolutely must roll your bag around, learn to be OK with the fact that you look like an idiot. Don’t look at me like I’m crazy when I look at you like you’re crazy. You’re the lazy one, not me.

I didn’t really respect strippers until I became one…

I spent this weekend in New York City. One of my very best girlfriends is getting married and we went up for her bachelorette weekend. The whole trip was pure hilarity, but I’ll start with the train ride from Jersey into the city… I was wearing one of my favorite t-shirts. It’s black and it has a picture of a cute little bumble bee and then it says “–atch” so if you put it together, it spells… well you know. My girlfriends and I made nice with a handsome conductor on the train who was having a bad day. His name was J.M. McGinty. I know that because it was embroidered on his jacket. I kept referring to him by his whole name because it seemed to lift his spirits. Finally he came by one last time to punch our tickets and I said, “Thank you very much J.M. McGinty.” and he said, “You’re welcome, B–atch…” Oh man, that was the funniest thing that’s happened to me so far in 2006. Check mate, J.M. Check mate.

Once we got into the city, our very first activity was a two-hour exotic dance class – complete with boas, pimp hats, high heels and — you guessed it… poles. I’m gonna give you a minute to digest that. ME on a POLE…

You ready? OK, so I’ll go on. The instructor was so matter of fact about everything she told us to do, it was like she didn’t realize that we didn’t all strip for a living. “Flutter your eyelids… Make a pouty-kissy-face… Raise your eyebrows… Work your shoulders…” At one point I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I looked like I was having a seizure. Those who KNOW know that I don’t have a great deal of dance skill. I’m good on rhythm but I’m definitely a two-stepper if you know what I mean, plus I was the largest woman in the class, I had on a pair of heels way higher than I would ever wear in real life and I was really, really sober, so you can imagine how awkward I felt. After we learned how to work the boas, unbutton our shirts and toss them with reckless abandon it was pole time. OH YEAH! Easily the most hilarious part of the evening, my time spent on the pole helped me to gain a new respect for strippers. Those girls are vicious. It is really hard to get up on that thing and swing like that. The next morning we were all bruised and sore. For real, next time you go out and you see a girl doing some good pole work, give her a nice tip AND a pat on the back. She’s working hard for the money.

After we went back to the hotel to shower and change it was off to the club and one of those totally “Sex and the City” experiences that you can only have in NYC. We’re standing outside of the hotel about to hail a cab when this stretch limo pulls up and says, “Need a ride?” Are you serious? So we all pile in and head for Duvet. We tell the driver to pull right up to the front door and we get out like movie stars. The line was down the block and they were only letting ladies in for free for another 15 minutes so when the door man told us we needed to go to the back of the line, we looked like BROKE movie stars. We eventually did some politicking and got in without waiting in the line — thank goodness we had just learned how to flutter our eyelids and unbutton our shirts. HA! We ended up having a great weekend and I think I got at least 5 good new minutes out of it… Well worth the trip.