Super Happy Random Bonus Blog

Hey there 'Redheads... Since I'm bored at home on a Thursday night and July has so far been a desolate wasteland with a scant two installments, I figured why not make this week a two-fer. Lucky you. This installment is going to be more of a hodgepodge than usual, so strap in and let's get this tangential train a rollin'...

I'm glad August is almost here, because that means we're just weeks away from the NFL. I just signed up for my first of three fantasy football leagues, which has me more excited than any of the sports going on in reality at the moment. I am in sports hell right now...baseball, golf, tennis, soccer, and the WNBA. I flipped past a WNBA game earlier this evening. There was 5 minutes left in the third quarter and neither team had broken 50. In fact, the losing team only had 24. I'm no whiz at math, but 24 divided by 3 is 8. 8 points per quarter in a game where some shots are worth 3. I've seen fewer bricks at a construction site. I'm sure there's a World of Warcraft basketball league that scores more off the court than these gals do on the court. Did I mention this blog might stink? Let's move on...

Of course, the nation is mourning the loss of yet another television icon. Gidget, the Taco Bell chihuahua died of a stroke at the ripe old age of 15, which would make her 105 in dog years. I think she had a good run. She helped pave the way for other talking pitch animals, like that plucky Geico gecko. I'm not one to start wild rumors, but did anyone else find it kinda suspicious that Gidget kicked just days after Michael Vick got out? Just sayin' is all... Gidget, just know that the chalupa that was dropped on the floor at every Taco Bell in the nation was for you. I just hope she gets her due and gets a spot on the In Memoriam segment of the Emmys. Put her right between Bea Arthur and Walter Cronkite. Speaking of the venerable Mr. Cronkite, seeing TMZ.com report Walter Cronkite's death was like watching Dane Cook mug his way through a George Carlin routine on YouTube. Yech with a side of blech.

With the headline-grabbing deaths of Gidget and Walter Cronkite, I'm sure most of you missed the passing of another great man...

John S. Barry, an executive who masterminded the spread of WD-40, the petroleum-based lubricant and protectant created for the space program, into millions of American households, died on July 3 in the La Jolla neighborhood of San Diego. He was 84.

One thing is certain. When he is laid to rest, his casket won't have squeaky hinges.

And now, these messages...

...and we're back.

I was driving around DC the other day, and I found the American University of Obstetricians and Gynecologists. It was located at the end of a small tunnel.

Before I go, I want to get in one last plug for a kick ass show this Sunday at Union Jack's in Bethesda. Will Hessler, Bey Wesley, Jimmy Meritt, Rob Maher, and yours truly as your host, spread the joy starting at 7:30. You spread the word starting now. This show is FREE. Click here for all the deets.

See you there...

Blocked 2: Electric Blockaloo

Hey there 'Redheads... Once again, I've allowed sloth to trip me up with its three toes of sluggishness and keep me from bringing you timely bloggage. In fairness, I do suffer from OFS... Occasional Fatigue Syndrome. Plus, I was busy celebrating the 40th anniversary of the lunar landing and had a wicked tangover.

As promised, here's part two of whatever I felt like was worth continuation. Before I get things started, please direct your attention to the shiny new widget on the right hand side of the page. I know, they don't like to be called "widgets"...they prefer "little windows". That right there is a digital portal to my fan page on Facebook. So, when you check out a new installment of the blog, you can check out the fan page...telling you to check out the new installment of the blog. Ain't technology neat? It also gives you easy access to other news that I'll probably put on here anyway... Looks cool, though...right?

Speaking of way cool technology that can keep you in a perpetual loop, let's hop in the fuzzy recollection machine and take a trip back to July 4th to strain our eyes at the blurred and hazy events. To celebrate our nation's independence, my intrepid band of friends and I took a trip to Coney Island to witness the gluttonous grudge match known as the Nathan's Famous Fourth of July International Hot Dog Eating Contest


Fellow spectator, Chris White, also wrote a crackerjack blog about the experience, so please to be checking that out after you get done here to get the full processed meat mosaic. So, as you can tell from the picture, we got a pretty good spot among the huddled masses to check out the action. In order to get that spot, we had to get there early. Getting there early meant waiting in the hot sun while event MC George Shea whipped the crowd into a feeding frenzy. Check this guy out...

There was plenty of pregame entertainment to keep the mob in check. The circus was in town, and they lent their trampoline artist to wow the crowd with some death defying...bouncing really high...
...which was made all the more treacherous, because she could've been blinded by the sun glinting off that guy's head. Back off, Lex, it only looks like she can fly. There was also music...and guys dressed in giant hot dog costumes dancing to that music...

Then it came time for the ESPN cameras to swoop in to cover these masters of mastication. If you're wondering what caliber of sportscaster the Super Bowel of competitive eating draws...

You may've noticed that it's called the international hot dog eating contest, in much the same way the house of pancakes is. Really, the only competitor that made the contest international was former six time champion, Takeru Kobayashi of Japan. Which is mildly ironic since the atomic bomb we dropped on Japan is probably indirectly responsible for his superhuman eating abilities. Kobayashi's story is actually quite inspirational. Apparently, one of the characters from Dragon Ball Z wished to be a real boy...but I digress. This year, though, another combatant from abroad entered the fray, from Italy. But really, the other competitors were a gassy afterthought. This was a showdown between Kobayashi and reigning champion, Joey Chestnut...
It was 10 straight minutes of brutal buffet. When the crumbs settled, Joey Chestnut emerged the victor, having crammed 68 buns and dogs down his gullet. He also took about ten years off his life. God bless America.

One thing I couldn't understand was other peoples' reaction when I told them I went to Coney Island for the contest. Invariably, their response was, "Did you compete?" Yeah, I was going to, but I had to back out...damn TMJ.

If you have nothing to do on Sunday, the 26th, might I recommend a great FREE comedy show? 7:30 at Union Jack's in Bethesda, Will Hessler, Bey Wesley, Jimmy Merrit, and Rob Maher will take the stage for your amusement. I'll be your host. Come laugh at us. Click here for all the details...

More to come...

Blocked

Hey there 'Redheads... How in the blue hell is it two weeks deep into July already? I've been sitting here in front of a blank computer screen for the past two hours trying to angioplasty my way through some wicked writer's blockage. As per usual, I'm way overdue for an update, so I want to deliver bloggage...something got lost in the translation, apparently. I was gonna write this yesterday, but I had a bit of a head cold and I decided to pop a Zyrtec, which put me in the black sleep of Kali Ma... But, boy howdy, do I have a twenty-piece box of nuggets for you, once I can pry the words from my brainbox. Ok, so let's stop singing the procrastinational anthem and try to get this blog flume a flowin'.

Big thanks to the fine folks at LOL Comedy Club in Clayton, NC for a great weekend. I had the pleasure of working with Grandma Lee. Our Thursday night show was 24 hours removed from her appearance on America's Got Talent... 75 years young, and she is a pistol. The clip makes it seem like she just tried comedy on a lark for the show, but she's a 12 year vet of the stand-up scene. Grandma and I spent our days hitting a couple of the local bbq joints for some pulled pork and sweet tea goodness. Nothing quite like a pile of shredded meat on a plate. We ate lots. I think our favorite place was called Holt Lake. Not only was the food amazing, but their default drink on every table is sweet tea. Water? Pshaw. That's right, come for the food...stay for the diabetes.

The shows were great, if somewhat lightly attended. I think our last show of the weekend was only witnessed by ten people, making it just shy of a rumor. It was a fun opportunity to get out of my rote and make my material more conversational. It ended up being a nice note to end on. While I was sitting at the bar, I was reading the list of upcoming comics at the club and their little bio blurbs. One of them included the phrase, "No nonsense comedy." Well, then you're probably not doing it right. Maybe completely fact-based comedy is the next big thing... Take my wife, for example...

I'm going to make an executive decision to cleave this installment in twain. I have a bunch of 4th of July tidbits to share, including the Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest, but that deserves a devoted installment to contain all the pomp...and I don't have it in me to write it all out right now. A couple quick bits of randomness before the cleave...

Yesterday, I heard "How Do You Talk to an Angel" by The Heights on 94.7 FRESH FM, Today's Fresh Music... Even if it was freeze dried and vacuum sealed, that song is about as fresh as a bowl of tuna salad that got left in a greenhouse.

In the wave of recent celebricide, one important figure has been lost in the shuffle. Our bologna no longer has a first name...

MADISON, Wis. – Oscar G. Mayer, retired chairman of the Wisconsin-based meat processing company that bears his name, has died at the age of 95.

Now THAT is a memorial service I'd like a ticket to...

To be continued...