Comedy and Christmas

First the news: I've been invited to perform at the Las Vegas Comedy Festival this January. I'll be in the "Get Them While They're Hot" showcase which features the up and coming talent that the industry hasn't seen yet.

I also get a free pass to the entire festival which is cool since there was no way in hell I was going to pay to attend. I don't know how much of the comedy festival I will see considering that it happens the same time as The Amaz!ng Meeting which I've already paid for and I don't want to miss any of it. For those of you who don't know, The Amaz!ng Meeting is a skeptic's convention. Go ahead and make your silly little skeptic jokes. I doubt they'll be funny.

I'll be visiting my parents this Christmas. They've invited me to their mega-church's 11pm "Candle Light Service" on Christmas Eve which is basically the Protestant fundamentalist version of the Catholic midnight mass except there's lots of singing. And there's a rock band. I don't think Catholics have rock bands on stage, do they? By the way, the most rocking band I ever saw in a church was at a 7th Day Adventist service. Oh my, they had distorted guitars, special effects, and one guy did like a 10 minute Yngwie Malmsteen guitar solo. Praise the Jesus!

I'm not sure if I'll go considering my old friend Brian will be there and we have not talked since before this past April when I admitted to my family and friends that I am an atheist. I hear he's been researching nonstop in preparation to challenge me to a debate. I'm way past the years when I was itching to have a full on religious debate with him (he just didn't know it at the time). These days, I only wanna write fart jokes and check the standings of my fantasy basketball team. Such is the life.

Final Thought: Since I like putting reason into the season, why do Christians accuse secularists of trying to take Christ out of Christmas? They are the ones who have taken Christ out because they pronounce it "Chris-mas" rather than "Christ-mas." Do they worship Jesus Chris? Are they saved through the blood of Chris Jesus? I'm pretty sure there is a "t" in the word Christmas. So I say to them--stop taking the "Christ" out of "Christ-mas" you heathens!

Brilliant Idea

Some of the greatest ideas in history have not been 100% original, but rather a new take on an old idea. There are numerous examples I could name, but I'd rather you just take my word for it.

This brings me to my greatest idea, or at least, my greatest idea so far today. I'm going to start a website called MyEbayGoogleSpace.com. Granted, I don't know what exactly will happen on that website, but I do know it will make me lots and lots of money.

I'll give you all a heads up before the IPO.

Rap Videos

My friend Scott recently wrote a blog about rap videos. There are quite a few rap songs I like and it has been many, many moons since I erroneously thought that it was all c(rap) done by people with no talent. I definitely don't think rappers are retards, but, yeah, I suppose I'll agree with him that in their videos they could switch things up a bit. I've reprinted the blog Scott wrote and below it is the comment I left for him.

--From Scott's blog:

I just watched a series of rap videos. Here's my message to the people involved in rap music, and specifically the people making rap videos.

Dear retards,

Yes, you read that correctly. You may want to look into the possibility that you are, actually, retarded.

Here are three words for you. They are not big words, so they may have some meaning to you: Do. Something. Different.

Please, just try it. Write about something different. Make a video that's different. Have an original idea. Just one.

I am glad you have found some success in what you do. Really. But please take a look at the work you're putting out there. You're standing there, rapping directly into the camera, and you have your friends around, which is nice, and you also have some women with big butts willing to shake those butts in your video.

This is all very nice, but you know, how about trying something original? Just once.

Because while I'm sure you seem cool to some people (probably other retards), but to most of us, you just seem retarded. And we're bored with you doing the same thing over and over.

So, stop doing that, you monosyllabic retards.

Well, no, I guess maybe I shouldn't say that. Calling rappers retarded is actually insulting to retards. So, I'm sorry for saying that.

But, please. Do. Something. Different.


--My response:

Dear Mr. Scott Roeben,

Awww...no you didNT!

[music starts]

Yo, yo--this how we roll

Mic check- we gonna kick it- one more time
I got mah girls shaking booties right back 'n behind

[close up of shakin' booty]

U bedda not front--whatcha gonna do?
When da [blam! blam!] trigger make a fool 'o you ?

[Cut to Escalades sportin' 22s]

Gonna diss mah rap art on da MTV?
Muda fucka bedda run cuz U going ta bleed !

Uh-huh. Yeah. Yo, tell'm D-Funk1!

::::Obligatory guest rap by unknown rapper::::

"Now there ain't no time to cooperate/cuz U monopulate/as you be testin' fate/Ima get irate/when you interrogate/from the Bering Strait/You don't know 'bout love/U just bringin' da hate. Check it. D-Funk1 iz out."

[more of that fine shakin' booty]

So back off ya mouth-U punk bitch mutha
Ya gotcha self served by some rap lovin' bruthas !

Peace out.

[music fades on one last booty shot]

Sincerely,

The People Who Make Rap Videos

Cell Phones Part 2

I don't want to hear anymore about how I need to get a cell phone.

Yesterday, I called three different people on their cell phones and left voice messages for them. There was information I needed from them ASAP. I did not receive a response from any of them. No return calls. None. Nothing. Nada. Cero. No Dice. No Andrew. No Clay. Zippo. Harpo. Oprah.

So how is this different from me only having a land line with an answering machine? People have said to me, "Brandon, what if I need to get ahold of you immediately?" Well, looks like a cell phone doesn't necessarily solve that problem, now does it?

So you can take your fancy cell phones with your Muzak ringtones and your diamond encrusted.....oh hey, that reminds me. There is a woman at my work who sent off her cell phone to the East Coast so that she could have it bedazzled with lots of shiny fake jewels. I think she paid $150. She said she got a great deal.

Folks, paying more than $5 to decorate your phone is more ridiculous than the fact that I still own and use an address book with names and phone numbers written in it. Maybe I should blog about all the old timey things I still do and have.

The best anti-George W. Bush article ever

But before I get to the article, take this fun quiz!

Is George W. Bush the personification of evil?
Does he deserve to die one thousand one hundred and twenty-two deaths?
Does the mere thought of him make you want to vomit your inner organs into a toilet?
Did you think the world was going to end if he was re-elected in 2004?
Do you think he wakes up every morning with the thought, "How can I ruin America today?"

If you answered "yes" to any of the above questions, then congratulations! You are a demonizer. You are unable to engage in rational discourse concerning political issues and policies without resorting to character assassination and ad hominem attacks! Way to not rise above your elementary school years! Go get yourself a cookie!

At this point, I should mention that I am not a Republican, I am not a conservative, and I am certainly no fan of George W. Bush. In 2000, I voted for Ralph Nader hoping he'd get enough votes to qualify the Green Party for federal matching funds. In 2004, I plugged my nose and voted for John Kerry.

I disagree with Bush on many issues: the war in Iraq and foreign policy in general, abortion, his love for baseball, homosexual rights, and stem cell research (although I'm pleased he's the first President to provide federal funding for it), among others. But I don't hate the guy.

What I do I hate is demonizing on both sides of the political spectrum. When I was a conservative, I couldn't stand listening to my parents bash Clinton with their palpable hate. Now that I'm on the other side, I can safely say that the hateful bashing isn't anymore attractive over here.

Bush deserves to be criticized. But it can be done in a level-headed way.

Below is a critical article that comes from the Right (although Doug Bandow is a Libertarian) that hits Bush as hard as I've ever seen and the invectives used are all based on well known facts. Bandow is not demonizing when he writes,

"George W. Bush is not a bad person. But he's a bad decision-maker: intellectually uncurious and seriously unread."

That's a much more substantive insult than any of the "Bush sucks donkey cock" drivel you'll hear from most Bush haters.

http://www.humanevents.com/article.php?id=9713

Columbus Day

I did it again.

I walked out to the front of my property, opened up my mailbox, and wondered why it was empty. I mean, it was Monday--that's a big mail day--where the hell was it? It wasn't until much later I realized it was a holiday.

I've done this many times before. You name the holiday and I've opened my mailbox on that day. If it's a big holiday, I'll usually remember the instant I open my empty mailbox. It's like there's a giant note inside that reads, "It's CHRISTMAS! You pathetic loser."

Let me tell you, once you've made that mistake it's one hell of a long walk back to your house. Remember that scene in "Poltergeist" when the hallway kept growing longer and longer? That's my walk of shame. I feel like the whole neighborhood is looking out their windows laughing it up at my foolishness.

"There he goes again! Just like clockwork! Or...calendarwork, to be more precise." I often imagine my neighbors being slaves to precision.

Sometimes, I try to save face by acting like I went out to my mailbox for some other reason, like a maintenance check. I'll kick the post, wiggle the flag up and down, and say out loud, "OK, we are looking good. We are all systems go for mail delivery tommorrow."

I think I have a problem. Is there a support group for people like me? Does anyone else share my checking-the-mail-on-the-wrong-day affliction? Does anyone else hate Tuesday's "coupons you'd never use and other worthless ads" junk mail? And why does the missing children's flyer always insist on falling out from that pile?

What's the next holiday? Veterans Day? I'm going to have to mark notes down on my calendar.

Nov. 11th: "Don't check mail today."
Nov. 12th: "Blog about how you forgot to not check the mail."
Nov. 13th: "Release missing children."

Baseball Schmaseball

So, I hear that the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim-Orange County-Southern California-United States of America-North America-Northern Hemisphere-Planet Earth-Inner Planets-Sol Solar System-Milky Way Galaxy-Universe.com or whatever they are calling themselves these days won Game 2 tonight of their big series against blah blah blah who cares?

Am I weird for not liking baseball? To be honest, I'm not too fond of apple pie, either. And don't even ask about my mom. I'm just kidding mom, in case you ever join MySpace with a sparsely filled out profile, one lewd pic, and 6,472 friends who have each commented: "Thanx for the add, milf. Killer bod!"

Anyway, I used to like baseball when I was a kid. You know, back when I used to eat paste and was trying to figure out whether I should grow up to be an astronaut or a Transformer. It wasn't long after I dismissed Santa Clause when I realized that baseball was really boring to watch.

Notice I said, "to watch." There's nothing wrong with playing it. But watching it? I've been more entertained watching a janitor vacuum the Senate floor after a quick vote on procedural amendments left CSPAN with 20 minutes to kill before "Booknotes" came on.

This is watching baseball:

Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Pitch. Ball One. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Pitcher Adjusts Cap. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Pitch. Ball Two. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Manager Stands In Dugout. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Fake Throw To First. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Catcher Comes Out To Say Hi. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Pitch. Strike One. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Batter Hits Cleats With Bat. Wait. Wait. Wait.Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Kid In Stands Eats Popcorn. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. John 3:16 Sign. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait Is A Song By White Lion. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Pitch. Strike Two. Wait. Wait. Wait. Waiting For Godot Is As Boring As Baseball. Wait. Wait. Wait. Second Baseman Scratches Balls. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Brandon Empties Revolver Into His Skull. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.

So, yeah, I'm not a fan. Earlier this year I was talking to a co-worker who was mad because his baseball team had just lost and it dropped them two games back out of the playoff race. I guess I was in a good mood because I actually continued this conversation about baseball.

"That's too bad. How many games are left?"

"Oh, I don't know, 80 or 81."

That's another problem with baseball. They play millions of games every week, many of which have historically pre-empted important TV shows that I wanted to watch. Like Transformers, for instance. How am I suppose to decide which Autobot I'm going to grow up to be if the Dodgers insist on playing every damn afternoon?

I enjoy watching sports that are exciting. Like NBA basketball or college basketball or high school basketball or MTV Rock N Jock basketball (Method Man for the 50 pointer!). I even prefer WNBA basketball to baseball! But that's mostly due to Lauren Jackson.

To Cell Or Not To Cell

As of tonight, for the first time in my life, I own a cell phone. Granted, it is not activated, but it is mine. My good friend John gave it to me since he just got a new one with all the bells and whistles (which are handy to have in case you ever get raped or you're hiking in bear country).

So, now I am faced with a dilemma. Should I join the robotic, sheep-like masses and give in to cell phoneity? Or should I remain steadfast in my never-formerly-stated mission of living life with only a "land line" (as the cellularphiles like to call it). I have never even owned a pager. Am I allowed to skip that step?

I have never considered a cell phone a necessity. After all, I'm not that important. If someone needs to get ahold of me, they can do what normal people have done since the dawn of time: write me a letter. Or contact me via messenger pigeon. What could be easier? (It is, however, quite awkward to pick up women by asking them if they want to exchange pigeons).

I also like being different, although it's weird to realize that in this day and age *not* having a cell phone makes you different. I enjoy the looks of shock followed by pity whenever I say, "Nope--that's my home phone number. I don't have a cell. What? Yes, of course I have indoor plumbing."

I will admit that as the years have piled on, I have encountered more and more situations where a cell phone would have been the handiest of dandies. Like my road trip in '03 when I broke down on a desolate, rarely traveled road...right next to a cell phone tower. Or a few months ago when I was stuck in traffic while a radio station was giving away free tickets to see Tony Danza at the Orleans to the first caller who could name every TV show Alyssa Milano has ever been on. Damn my luck.

If I do get a cellular plan, I refuse to invent unnecessary phone calls just because I have the capability. I will never say any of these sentences on a cell phone: "Guess where I'm calling from?" or "I'm just letting you know I'm heading into the store" or "And then the guy next to me flipped over a pair of Aces." The last one is because I don't play poker, though. Speaking of, I hear that all the time at work. Every poker player is always on the cell recounting how they just lost. Who's the poor sap who has to listen to that crap? Who's sitting by their phone anticipating the run-down of how their friend got screwed by the "River?"

Honestly, the only drawback to cell phone activation would be the cost. It costs more than a home phone. And that's pretty much what it comes down to for me. If I can get over that, then I'll join the rest of you. Until then, I just have a cool Star Trek-looking flashlight.

I opened for Doug Stanhope!

I just had an interesting night. I got off work and, like usual, had some time to kill before I needed to be at the Bourbon Street Hotel to set up for my standup show. Usually, I spend that time reading, or more specifically, sleeping with a book (don't worry--it's always consensual). But tonight, I remembered that Doug Stanhope (http://www.dougstanhope.com) was performing over at Tommy Rockers. Some of my friends were going to be there, so I figured I'd stop by for awhile even though I'd have to leave before Doug went up.

I walked in the place, found my friends, and talked blah blah blah. Meanwhile, I see Doug just standing around by the bar talking to people here and there. I think to myself that I should take advantage and at least say hi, but I knew I needed more than that to say. So I decided to ask him for some comedian advice.

I went over, introduced myself, and told him I've been doing standup around town for almost two years and almost immediately he asks, "Do you want to do some time tonight?" Apparently, time is for the taking at Tommy Rockers, even when Stanhope's in town. I said sure and then I asked his opinion on whether I needed to move out of Vegas to make the next step (Doug started in Vegas doing open mics). He told me to never take advice from anyone. Hmmm...I wondered...should I take *that* advice? He asked me if I wanted something to drink. I said no thanks and he gave me a quizzical look. For some weird reason, I felt like I owed him an explanation: "Well, I used to be a Christian and now I'm an atheist, but I still don't smoke or drink. That's my little quirk." Even though he's a blatant atheist, I'm sure he thinks I'm a complete idiot. My social ineptness made for a few more minutes of uncomfortable conversation---from his vantage point, I'm sure---and then it was time to go onstage.

And it went great. I did all my classics like "Wedding," "Clean Talk," "Satan," "Roller Coasters," and so on. I guess I did 7 minutes or so. After I got off stage Doug came up and said, "Man, that was great! You need to get the hell out of Vegas!" Aaaand...scene! As they say in the improv world.

Of course I felt fantastic and then I went to the Bourbon Street and it didn't matter that there were only 10 people in the audience. In fact, near the end of the show, 3 members of the Second City mainstage show here in Vegas came in just in time to see me do my Bill Walton impression (oh yeah, such a crowd pleaser). If I had known I would be performing in front of so many talented people tonight I would have dressed up, dammit!

As for Stanhope's advice about moving out of Vegas---I've been thinking about it more and more lately. The standup scene here isn't that great at all and I can definitely see how moving elsewhere would be beneficial. LA would be my first choice since I'm from SoCal (although Stanhope said it isn't any better there). But I do wonder what job I'd get and how I could afford to live alone. I hate living with people. Hate it. Passionately. In fact, I'm worried if I'll be able to stand to live with the girl of my dreams. If I ever meet the bitch, that is. Har har.

It comes down to my comfort zone, really. I am reeeaaaallyyy comfortable and I'm not much for change. But, I can do it when it needs to be done. So, I guess we'll see.

Selfishness and kids

Is there any non-selfish reason to decide to have a kid?

That's my opening question, but this blog is about Bree Walker. For those of you who do not know who she is, Bree is a broadcast journalist who used to be married to boxing announcer Jim Lampley. As an aside, she used to be very beautiful until she ruined herself through plastic surgery:

http://www.gawker.com/news/bree_walker.jpg

Anyway, she has a rare disease called ectrodactyly which has fused together her fingers and her toes. Years ago, she decided to have children despite the fact that there would be a 50% chance that the condition would be passed on. Well, it was. Both her children have it and they have undergone more than a dozen surgeries to unfuse their digits.

In response to criticism of her choice, she says she'd like to see anyone look her children in the face and tell them they don't deserve to live. Well, of course they deserve to live now that they exist. The question is whether or not she should have had kids in the first place. That is an important difference. Not existing is not a tragedy. Since I'm alive, I'm glad that I exist and I hope to exist for a long time. However, if I never existed, it wouldn't matter to me because I would not exist to care! I spent most of the history of the universe not-existing and it didn't bother me one bit.

The point is that she created these children despite 50% odds. I'm sure she hoped they wouldn't have the disease because they've had surgeries to correct it--obviously she considers it a "problem" that needs to be "fixed."

Why did she have kids despite the 50% chance? Because of selfishness. She wanted kids and nothing was going to stop her. She cared more about her own desire to be a parent than the problems her kids would have. She could have adopted, but no, she wanted children of HER OWN making. Tell me that's not selfish.

This is old news, by the way. Her kids are 16 and 13 and she did come under fire at the time. But it also brings me to my opening question. Is there any non-selfish reason to decide to have children? Oh wait--I just thought of one--you could have children specifically because you want to give them up for adoption to parents who can't have kids of their own. I'd say don't bother, but that is a non-selfish reason. Can anyone think of any other altruistic reasons?

Anyone care to defend Bree Walker?

Sports Kids Moms & Dads

I just watched a show on Bravo called "Sports Kids Moms & Dads." One of the families profiled is a father who says he never fulfilled his dream of playing in the NFL. Concerning his 8 year old son, Trenton, the father declares: "His future and my future are tied to his dream of being an NFL football player." Nope--that's not the creepiest part. How about this quote: "I believe we choose our parents, and I believe Trenton chose me because he wants to play football."

That reminds me of the time I went to a "Guardian Angel Workshop" for 3 hours of laughs (that's another blog in itself). The instructor told us that we do indeed choose our parents and I told him that Andrea Yates' children did not choose wisely.

Another family on the show consists of a Texas mother who spends $15,000 a year on her 8 year old daughter's cheerleading training. When did she know her daughter had cheerleading potential? "When Sarah was 18 months old, she had this incredible point. She had this incredible arch in her foot." Can you believe that? She waited until Sarah was 18 MONTHS OLD before she even bothered to notice that Sarah was quite possibly the LeBron James of Pom Poms. Sarah will never be able to make up that lost time. *Sigh*

Sometimes I wonder if my parents tried to live their dreams through me. I think my mom always wanted to be a professional room cleaner and that's why she pushed me so hard to be the best. Every day before school it was, "Clean up your room." And then after school it was, "Make sure your room's clean." Even on the weekends, "Your room. Clean it. Now." I had to sacrifice a lot. While other kids were out playing I was perfecting my dusting technique. Who knows where I'd be today if I hadn't choked during Nationals my 6th grade year? Damn that Lego! How did I miss it?

My dad, on the other hand, must have had childhood dreams of being a world class mime since he was constantly cultivating in me the skillful ability to "Shut the hell up."

Extreme Ironing

This is why humans rule the world. I don't see dolphins inventing any cool new sports like this:

Extreme Ironing

I must admit, I love the description on the homepage: "...the latest danger sport that combines the thrills of an extreme outdoor activity with the satisfaction of a well pressed shirt."

No one has time to finish an email

Have you noticed that everyone always ends their emails with "well, I have to go to bed now" or "I have to get to work" or "I should finish this heart transplant" or whatever? Doesn't anyone have time to finish an email?

Apparently, it always the last thing people do before doing something important. "Babe, before we have sex, I need to fire off a half-assed email. Oh, don't worry, it won't be a 'full' email. I'll let him know I gotta get going." If they didn't have anything to do would they continue typing perpetually?

I have much more to say about this but I have to go take a shower right now.

Stuck in Buenos Aires again

Ho hum. Buenos Aires is boring.....when you don´t speak Spanish...and you are not into night life...and you weren´t expecting to be here in the first place. I missed my connecting flight to Iguazu so I have to spend the night here.

On the plane to Buenos Aires, I sat on the aisle seat and a woman with a months old baby sat in between me and another woman by the window. Her husband was a few rows back. I thought about asking her if she wanted me to switch seats with her husband, but then I decided not to. Well, I certainly should have worked something out because no sooner were we in flight when her 4 or 5 year old son was suddenly standing in the aisle next to me yapping to his mama. It was cute the first twelve times, but then it began to annoy. He was running up and down the aisle and everyone seemed to think this was just dandy. Or, at least, nothing to be concerned about. There was a few times when his mother told him to sit with his papa, but he didn´t listen. She kept looking back to her husband for support as if she were powerless to control the little diablo. I guess a stern rebuke would have unleashed a scene from "The Omen" because I couldn´t see why she didn´t take control. He entertained passengers by throwing his pen up into the air, right in the middle of the aisle. One time, as if Zeus himself smiled down upon me, his pen smacked him right square in the face. That gave me enough satisfaction to resist asking the stewardess, "Could you PLEASE ask the pilot to turn on the fasten seatbelt sign?"

When I checked into my hotel here in Buenos Aires, I was pleased to find that the lady behind the counter spoke English. There was a bellman who took my bag up to my room, and in the elevator I said, "Como estas?" because I had heard that locals like it when you at least try to communicate in their language. However, he just looked at me and gave me a mocking laugh that clearly said, "Don´t even try, gringo." I think a simple "muy bien" or "mas ó menos" would have sufficed. Now I am off to do....uh...I don´t know.

Maybe I can find a cheap DVD copy of "Evita" or "Dude, Where´s my car?" That would certainly make this layover worthwhile.

Greetings from Puerto Natales

So, here I am in the Southern Hemisphere, typing away at a computer at one of the local internet cafes. Some of these places may not have running water but every small, shacky town has internet access. And this place in Chile only charges a dollar an hour! My trip has been quite amazing so far. The other day I did ice climbing for the first time ever. What better place to do it than in Patagonia, eh? I´m traveling with a group that includes a Californian, a Canadian, a Belgian, and a Scottsman. He wears his kilt quite often. But I´ll be honest with you, the next time I travel I'm wearing a kilt. Man that guy gets some action! Everyone goes up to talk to him and take his picture. He gets his picture taken more than the specific scenery that we are all suppose to be looking at! OK, my time is almost up. I´m telling everyone that I´m a Mormon missionary from Canada. That is just in case they hate Americans and I also heard that LDS missionaries are beloved in other countries. I forgot to bring my Book of Mormon, though. And I´m not dressed the part, nor on a bike, so I don´t know how convincing I am. Adios for now.