I love hosting comedy shows. I love being able to set the tone of the show and get people excited for the great night their going to have. I’ve probably hosted over 75 shows so far of all sorts (comedy, music, fundraisers, etc…), and I’ve learned a lot, messed up a lot, and have had some great success. Here’s a collection of tips might help you learn some things, too.
How An Online Gambler Looks Compared To The High Rollers
High rollers opt for a more groomed formalwear look as they need to as some casinos have very strict entry requirements. Most casinos expect their customers to be dressed in smartly with appropriate matching smart shoes. Luckily when it comes to online casinos you can wear whatever you like. An online gambler has no restrictions but can still be dressed to the nines if they want too. Read more “How An Online Gambler Looks Compared To The High Rollers”
Batman V Superman Dawn of Justice is a big fucking mess of a movie. It’s OK to watch, but it watches like a movie that 5 different people made without any knowledge of what the others were doing. It’s not a complete waste of time, but it’s really only sort of good.
Ben Affleck is a great Bruce Wayne and a great Batman. Pretty much everything to do with Batman is outstanding in this movie, except stupid dream sequences that really add about 20 minutes of nonsense. There’s an amazing new Batmobile that’s in a pretty kickass chase, and a fight scene with about 20 dudes that’s about as gorgeous of a Batman fight scene as you could ever hope to see. The costume looks great. His motions are fluid, and he’s an ass-kicking fiend. Read more “Batman v Superman: Yawn of Justice”
How cool is this that President Obama wrote a forward for Fantagraphics’ new volume of “The Complete Peanuts”? These have been a superior series that have collected all of the daily newspaper strips since 1951. This latest edition brings up up to the 1999-2000 age. You can pre-order this, or get older volumes direct from Fantagraphics if you CLICK HERE.
Here’s my choices for the Top 30 Greatest Stand Up Comedians Of All Time. I really hate those “of all time” lists that only list people from the last 10 years. I consider talent, historical impact, success, influence, and with just a dash of who I really like a lot.
- Richard Pryor
- George Carlin
- Bill Cosby
- Steve Martin
- Redd Foxx
- Lenny Bruce
- Milton Berle
- Robin Williams
- Rodney Dangerfield
- David Chapelle
- Eddie Murphy
- Joan Rivers
- Chris Rock
- Phyllis Diller
- Bob Newhart
- George Burns
- Bill Hicks
- Louis CK
- Don Rickles
- Ellen DeGeneres
- Jonathan Winters
- Jack Benny
- Sam Kinison
- Stephen Wright
- Roseanne Barr
- Mitch Hedberg
- Andy Kaufman
- Johnny Carson
- Dennis Miller
- Some Heckler who really was on his game that one night
photo (c) 2004, 20th Century Fox
NOTE: I wrote this article about 4 years ago, and thought in light of the great newDodgeball movie, it was worth digging out again.
You can’t grow up in America without basketball, football, or baseball playing a part of your life (or if you live in Australia, rugby, dingo tag and kangaroo wrestling). In the earliest years of elementary school, you can learn to strike out, drop a ball, and do other humiliating things that define your athleticism for the rest of your life. Clearly getting immature uncoordinated tots to play games of this nature was such a challenge, so different games were invented to give them an even break.
As I was panting and wheezing my way through a game of driveway basketball (I’m a great 3 point shooter, mainly cause I can’t dribble worth a shit), I began to fondly remember those games. Dodge ball, kickball, Tag, 4-square, or tetherball . . . they were always some of my favorites. But why did we stop playing them?
When I was a kid in Reston, VA about 25 children would play a game while they were waiting at the bus stop called “Crack the Whip”. You’d simply all hold hands and run in a crazy snake circling patterns at a high speed and try to make the poor kids at the end fly through the air and go crashing into a tree.
Tag taught us a lot of basic survival skills, basically how to run away from someone trying to get you. In this day and age of increased kidnappings, school shootings, and angry parents mad that you broke their favorite vase, learning to run away from someone is a must. You had your classic tag where someone was “IT” and ran around trying to pass the “IT” virus to someone else. Some variants of the game featured a safety base area equivalent of the immunity idol.
My favorite version was Freeze Tag where being touched by the “IT” kid would make you stop in your tracks, and you couldn’t move again unless one of the unfrozen kids came to your rescue and tagged you. It was always sad to see the less popular kids stranded in the field, frozen, waiting for someone to thaw them out to no avail.
Survival of the fittest was introduced at an early age to kids who played King of Mountain. This was always the showcase for the big fat kid who otherwise got picked on a lot, to send kids tumbling down a hill to their doom.
I remember playing this when I was only about 6 with some much bigger kids in a construction yard. We saw this 25 year old woman walking towards us from far away. One of the crafty kids told me, “Hey, when that lady walks by us, ask her if you can lick her vagina”. I asked what a “vagina” was, and he replied, “Oh, it’s a piece of candy, like a lollipop.” I waited for her to get right by the hill, and eager to get a taste of her sweet candy (and unaware it was a different sort of sweet candy altogether), I screamed, “Hey…CAN I LICK YOUR VAGINA?” She looked up, shook her head, and walked on. The other guys were doubled over in laughter, when I told them, “I guess she didn’t have one.”
One of the more beautifully Darwinesque games ever designed however was dodgeball. A few kids would stand around a huddled mass of scared kids in the middle, and throw a ball at them. Each time someone is hit, they have to join the others on the perimeter, until there’s one left, jumping and ducking about like some biblical stoning victim.
Dodgeball was fun on the surface, but deep down it was a secret way to smack your fellow students really hard with no retribution. Usually we’d use one of those red soft playground balls, but every now then we’d get to use a volleyball or something harder. Though there were strict “no headhunting” rules, it was awful hard to get in trouble for having bad aim. I mean, we were only 8 years old.
I remember one poor girl named Krista who got pegged in the crotch so hard, she curled up on the ground in a fetal position for a few minutes. Instead of receiving sympathy, someone just shouted out, “POW! Right in the catcher’s mitt!” If you hit someone in the face, you’d get high fives from everyone around. Matt told me a about a guy who hit a girl in the face so hard that it broke her glasses AND knocked her out cold. Instead of being ostracized, he was “Hero of The School.” (Of course, the girl likely came back and shot 15 kids the next day).
Perhaps the most brutal game we played was “Smear The Queer”. With a name like that, it’s just a notch above “Kill The Fag”, but the homophobic undertones went unnoticed by us. The rules were suicidal. Someone would throw the ball in the air, and whoever caught it would have to run around until they were caught, gang-tackled, and usually punched a few times. Why anyone chose to catch the ball is still a mystery to me, but it certainly whetted our appetite for masochism for years to come. Understandably, this game, at least in name, has all but disappeared from most schoolyards.
So why did we stop playing these things? No teacher ever sat us down and said, “You’re growing up, let’s put a stop to this and focus on varsity sports.” It’s as if there’s some mystical rule in high school that forbids you from even speaking of them again. Sometimes I think a good game of tag or dodge ball would be incredibly fun. Perhaps the ever strengthening bodies of teenagers growing up are too powerful to unleash with sports like that.
For the most part, these games taught kids how to play together. There weren’t clearly defined jocks and geeks yet cause most anyone can run or evade a ball with equal proficiency. But come time for high school, it’s off to the Chess Club for the kids that can’t cut it. And if it gets too bad, you can start studying those Columbine kids more carefully.
We’re too afraid to just let our kids be savage beasts anymore. No dangerous toys or games are allowed. Some dumb kid chucks lawn darts into the air and impale their sister in the head, so they’re banned. All the toy guns are bright orange so they don’t look too real (might get accidentally shot by those cops that are always sneaking into our backyard). Even playing Cowboys and Indians is looked upon as politically incorrect.
Without an adequate outlet to express the animal side, it gets bottled up and expressed in other ways. Left untapped, often tragic consequences (and some suggest an increase in boy band CD sales) occur.
We do too much to prevent kids from playing dangerous games, while doing little or nothing to eliminate the real life dangers they emulate. Toy guns are bad and real guns are good, in this twisted society we live in. Violent videogames where you shoot up electronic zombies are bad, while nothing is done about the actual zombie problem in the world.
So go ahead and gather up your pals for a game of drunken dodge ball. You’ll have the time of your life, and the world will be a better place for it.
In 1971, a model company called Aurora was struggling. They had made a good name for themselves with awesome kits based on classic monsters, dinosaurs, and the like, but sales were waning, so they decided to up the ante with what was arguably the most offensive and shocking toy sets ever marketed to kids. The snap together kits featured Frankenstein, Dr. Deadly, and Vampirella, which wasn’t that outrageous, but they came with an array of torture devices and a figure cleverly marketed as “The Victim” that caused an uproar.
The comic book ad above launched the set to America. As they kidnap a woman to bring her into the torture dungeon, Vampirella assures her party that her screaming is just fine by saying, “Don’t worry, this is New York, no one will help her!” This was a grim and totally inappropriate reminder of the horrible case ofKitty Genovese, who was stabbed to death with as many as 12 witnesses in the apartment building next door did nothing.
Can you imagine any kid coming home with “The Victim”, or actually opening it up on Christmas day? The artwork on the box is fantastic, and it’s actually one of the more valuable and collectible vintage toys of the time.
If you click the thumbnail above, you can see an alternate version of the ad (which may never have actually been published) where “The Victim” was going to be sold as “Dr. Deadly’s Daughter”. I suppose the angle of torturing his own family member was probably too much for even the most jaded monster fans.
Obviously it didn’t take long for numerous groups to protest the hell out of this toy. According to the AURORA MONSTER KITS website:
Massive protests against the kits came from religious publications and general newspapers, since they all thought that it promoted sex and sadism among children. All the negative publicity led to an immediate stop of production for these kits in May 1971, by the company which now had new owners: Nabisco Inc. The kits remaining on the toy store shelves led to new protests in November, this time outside Nabisco’s headquarters in New York. These protests held by groups as: Parents for Responsibility in the Toy Industry, and National Organization for Women, resulted in a recall of the Monster Scenes kits from store shelves in the U.S.
One of the few models where even experts have a tough time telling if it’s assembled or not
The National Organization of Women hasn’t called for the banning of a toy since the Mattel “Math is Hard Barbie” debacle in 1990, so you have to give credit to AURORA for their long standing record. How many toys get a rap for promoting “sex and sadism”? That’s quite an accomplishment by anyone’s standards.
As you would expect, these hard to find kits fetch a pretty price on the collector market, with Mint in Box specimens easily approaching the $300 range and even $30 for instructions.
Anyway, the next time you hear someone complaining about the violent toys kids love these days and the bad influence of wrestling, videogames, and toy guns, just show them this to shut them up.
NOTE: An earlier version of this article first appeared on retroCRUSH over 13 years ago, but I found a cool site The Haunted Closet which added some new items about reissues of the kits, and an article about the original protest that you canREAD HERE.
PIPE CLEANER PORN!
A startling erotic discovery at my wife’s late aunt’s house
My wife’s aunt passed away recently, and last week we took some time with other family members to go through various things in her home. I found some cool 60s “Adam” magazines (a bawdy gentleman’s pinup mag from the 60s, that I’ll feature here separately), and a few other curiosities, but nothing prepared me for this.
We came across this can of SKOAL. We never knew her aunt to chew tobacco, so it was a weird item to find. It sounded like something other than chew was inside, though, so I opened it up to see what it was.
Holy crap! It’s a pipecleaner man, wacking his giant pipecleaner cock! The poor guy has been jackin’ in that SKOAL can for years, with nothing more than the back of The Statue of Liberty’s embossed face to look at. She was a pretty conservative lady, so I was surprised to find it, but I figured it was just some goofy thing she came across at a craft fair. She maybe even just got it as a naughty gift, and just hid it away after she had a little giggle. Or did she…
Not too far away, I came across 2 more that were in a sort of pre-production status. Yep, she decided to make a couple of her own. I’m not sure if she was trying to do a full fledged line of masturbating pipe cleaner men before she died, but its nice to see that her dreams were big.
We ask our children everyday, not to hate. To treat their fellow man as an equal. Yet, the messages we send them only reinforce the opposite. Destroy those who are different, and don’t let them have what you have. Nowhere is this more glaring than the television commercials for Trix commercials.
Perhaps you’ve seen them. The formula for the stories are all the same. The Trix Rabbit, after countless failures, continually concocts wild schemes to disguise himself, maybe a magician or lion tamer, to amaze kids with wonderful tricks, and charm his way into their breakfast table. He doesn’t want the whole box, he just wants a bowl. Of course, every time the Rabbit gets too close to these luscious Trix, he’s overwhelmed by years of restraint and flips out, usually letting his big white ears pop out from his hat. The kids, realizing they’ve been duped, take the cereal back and physically push the Rabbit away. They then laugh, “Sorry Rabbit, TRIX are for KIDS!!!”, cackling away as the Rabbit once again walks away hungry.
It doesn’t stop there. Other breakfast cereals do the same!
“Sorry, Barney, these FRUITY PEBBLES are mine!”
“Hey! Pirates aren’t supposed to eat CAP’N CRUNCH!”
“Cookie Crook, your social class is too low for COOKIE CRISP!”
“Leggo My EGGO!”
“YOU CAN’T EAT HONEYCOMBS UNLESS YOU’RE A MEMBER OF THE HONEYCOMB HIDEOUT!” (I always thought that one was confusing, the slogan would go, “Come to the Honeycomb Hideout”, but they’d always turn folks away once they got there! Even Andre The Giant!)
“HEY YOU STUPID LEPRECHAUN, NO LUCKY CHARMS FOR THE IRISH!!!”
Time and time again these messages of hate are pounded through the soft spots of our children’s minds.
Once in 1980, finally succumbing to the public’s dissatisfaction with it all, General Mills decided to cash in on the election year, and featured commercials where the TRIX Rabbit might actually get a shot at his long desired bowl of goodness. On the back of every box was a ballot, encouraging the kids to vote:
YES! I WANT THE RABBIT TO GET HIS TRIX! or NO! I DON’T WANT THE RABBIT TO GET HIS TRIX!
It was a shining moment for our country because the kids overwhelmingly voted for the Rabbit. They even had a new commercial to commemorate the event. The Rabbit heard the results, and sat there teary-eyed, not knowing what he said. Why this was like Mandela getting freed from prison, The Berlin Wall coming down, the fall of The Soviet Union. He ate the bowl lovingly and quickly, overcome with joy. With a smile born of years of tolerance and servitude, he raised his spoon proudly, and asked for another bowl!
The kids looked at each other, allowing for an evil pause to creep along, then laughed…wickedly. “That’s the only bowl for you, RABBIT…HA! HA! HA! HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH!”
It was such a cruel and inhuman joke. Just like we promised the Indians their own land. Just like we promised 40 Acres and a mule to the America’s blacks. Taken right back!
Why are we afraid to eat at the same table as The Rabbit?
If we can’t share our food with a cartoon, then what hope is there for our humanity?
Here’s footage of me performing my “Bantha Footprints In The Sand” bit from my May 2015 album taping at Sacramento Comedy Spot.