Wednesday, October 03, 2018
Thursday, March 31, 2016
Columnar
Labels: Capital Hill, Capitol Hill, column, DC, Hill Rag, magazine
Friday, February 26, 2016
Campaign in the Ass
Before I consider a major overhaul, allow me to toot the horn on the Mild Amusement Express one more time. If you look to your immediate right, you'll see a giant pink button (if you don't see it, follow the link below). If you click on that button, you can then cast a vote for me, @FunnyJared, as Best Twitter Personality in the Washington City Paper's Best of DC 2016 Reader's Poll. I was runner-up in 2015, and I'd really like to add another winner's widget to my wall to go along with Best Comedian from 2013. If you need some proof of my Twitteracy, here are some recent examples...
What do you think?#HillaryClinton pic.twitter.com/XahbXfJBSE— Jared Stern (@FunnyJared) February 24, 2016
Who gets to give the dissenting eulogy? #Scalia— Jared Stern (@FunnyJared) February 13, 2016
John Travolta is rolling over in his auditing chamber right now. #GreaseLive— Jared Stern (@FunnyJared) February 1, 2016
.@nbcwashington correspondents now appearing live via impressionist painting. #blizzard2016 pic.twitter.com/5Gyje42OV0— Jared Stern (@FunnyJared) January 23, 2016
Be back soon with Oscar Red Carpet coverage, I guess...
Labels: 2016, Best of DC, Twitter, Washington City Paper
Monday, February 01, 2016
Susan Sarandon's Eyes Are Up Here
Very tacky, Ms Sarandon. https://t.co/GHFLRPbKna pic.twitter.com/yl5RTBIbL0
— Piers Morgan (@piersmorgan) January 31, 2016
Some people took offense at the choice of wardrobe because she was presenting the In Memoriam segment.
So blessed that Susan Sarandon's breasts were able to present the in memoriam. #SAGAwards
— Michael Wachowiak (@mikewachowiak) January 31, 2016
For some perspective, let's look at the only metric that counts, the Dow Jones Below Average, the Worst Dressed List. Entertainment Tonight doesn't have her on their 7 Worst Dressed, USA Today couldn't find a spot for her on their 9 Worst Dressed, and Entertainment Weekly didn't put her among their 5 Worst Dressed. I think the biggest take-away is that our attention spans can't make it through a list of ten anymore, but give us two to look at and we examine them with laser focus. None of the so-called fashion experts think she offended the style gods, so why has this turned into a tempest in a D-cup?
Instead of picking Susan Sarandon apart, we should turn our attention to the real issue, Lori Petty. Yikes. More like Pink is the New Blech, am I right?
Labels: 2016, cleavage, fashion, In Memoriam, Lori Petty, Piers Morgan, SAG Awards, Susan Sarandon
Friday, January 29, 2016
Self-Proclamation
You may think this blog is just an exercise in self-importance, and you pretty much hit the nail on the head. Good job. Here's a cookie. However, I am not nearly as self-important as the guy I encountered yesterday, while walking down Connecticut Ave. I had my earbuds in, so I could pretend to be listening to music, while actually listening in on out-of-context snippets of the conversations of passers-by. You should try it sometime...
"I'm just not warming up to Lisa like I thought I would."
"Have you thought of getting it lanced?"
"We need to motivate the team. Go buy chocolate."It's just a wonderful tableau of the extra ordinary (note the space). So, I'm getting some juicy non-sequiturs, when suddenly, I hear a piano playing behind me. It was on a street corner, so it could've been an enterprising busker. I turned to see a guy, maybe in his twenties, with a JBL speaker around his neck, pumping out the stirring classical jams. It wasn't music that anyone could rightly complain about but it was loud enough to cause people to take notice. He figured a charge of disturbing the peace wouldn't stick because the disturbance was so darn peaceful. It was simultaneously inspirational and obnoxious, motivational and rude, tasteful tastelessness. This guy was forcefully providing the soundtrack to my stroll. Listen, buddy, I've got the chorus of voices in my head for that sort of thing. Take your joyous jangle elsewhere.
And if I am self-important, at least I'm not self-proclaimed. I was talking to a buddy of mine who deals with booking guests on a radio show. He was telling me that one upcoming guest was billed as a "self-proclaimed sexpert". He said, "She gives blowjob classes." To which I replied, "Is there a recital?"
Think of the power of self-proclamation, though. Just because she says she is, she's now a sexpert, whatever that is. She was probably sexhausted of sexplaining herself without sexaggerating, so she made a sexecutive decision to sexceed everyone's sexpectations. Steve Miller says that some people call him a space cowboy and no one really believes him, but if he was a Self-Proclaimed Space Cowboy, then get this guy some spurs and a space helmet. On my taxes I'm going to list myself as a self-proclaimed religious institution. Let me make one thing clear. Any claims made about me should be made by someone else on an amateur level.
Labels: 2016, Best of DC, blizzard, Emo Philips, self proclaim, self-important, sexpert
Friday, January 22, 2016
It Begins...
The official name for this two day swath of doom dandruff is Winter Storm Jonas, which would be a great name for an albino pro wrestler. The agreed upon hip name for it is Snowzilla. That's the best the hive mind could come up with? Here are some alternatives:
Eddie Blizzard
White Privilege
Snowlestra
Ice-IS
Cold Slither
Before I go any further, I'd like to call your attention to the giant pink button on your right. You're going to want to click on that button and cast a vote for me (@FunnyJared) as Best Twitter Personality in the Washington City Paper's Best of DC 2016 Reader's Poll. I don't care if you don't read it. I don't care if you live in DC. I want to make Twitter great again. So please to vote for me and validate my narcissism. I came in second last year and I'd like to claw my way to the summit of the mountain of your support. You are the wind beneath my wings.
Also, I wanted to give a shout out to my buddy Chris White over at the DC Improv. He's a giant history nerd and he's embarking on an ambitious project to find the funniest POTUS ever, called Headliner of State. I'm the silky voiced announcer for this project, so please listen as we begin our search. New episode every Monday.
Speaking of... speaking, I recently got hired to be a part of another cool project that you can consume. I'm going to voice an audiobook, a suspense thriller called "The Watershed". I've finished recording the first chapter and I'm very excited to read out loud to you. If I can get paid for reading out loud, maybe I can get some cash for chewing with my mouth open. This is a big step for me, not only because it's professional voice work, but I normally fall asleep when I read. Thank goodness I'm standing up in the recording studio. The big challenge is trying to affect a woman's voice without sounding like a Monty Python sketch.
See you after the world ends.
Labels: 2016, Best of DC, blizzard, DC Improv, snow
Monday, January 11, 2016
Powerblog
The new year is about new beginnings, and what better way to clean the slate for 2016 than to win the Gross Domestic Product of Burundi. The Powerball lottery jackpot is a staggering $1.4 billion at the time of this writing. Your odds of winning are slightly less staggering, but only in the way getting hit by a piano from ten floors up is less staggering than getting hit with a piano from twenty floors. I do not care. My disregard for the odds is Han Solo-like. All I know is that somebody has to win, and why can't it be me?
When the lottery gets to Scrooge McDuck swimming pool levels, people who focus on the astronomical odds will take the sour grapes mindset, "I wouldn't want to win anyway, because that kind of money would ruin me." Well, to those people I say that kind of money could ruin a person, but it could also turn them into Batman. Listen, I get that money doesn't buy happiness, but with that kind of money you can afford to make everyone else around you miserable, making you seem happier by comparison. It's all about perspective. I saw a piece on the news at a local liquor store filled with hopeful people. One woman was asked what she would do with the money. She said, "I would buy a new car and pay off some debt." SOME debt? How many payments do you have left on your space station, lady?
I worry that whoever does win the jackpot won't have the imagination to properly enjoy it. Obviously, some of it goes in the bank, so you can live the life that Hans Gruber was denied at the end of Die Hard. He just wanted to be, "sitting on a beach, earning 20%." The cash payout for this jackpot is going to be roughly $800 million after taxes. Even if you put half of that away, you still have $400 million to play with. So, for the imagination impaired, I have some suggestions for what to do with the money...
- Tila Tequila thinks the Earth is flat because she can't see the curve, so you can use part of your winnings to shoot her into space, thereby solving two problems.
- Hire a mobile orchestra to follow you around and perform your theme song that you contracted John Williams to compose for you.
- Reboot Titanic.
- The Playboy Mansion is for sale for $200 million. The only problem is that Hef conveys and he gets to live there until his Faustian contract is up.
- Interstate zip lines.
- Pizza party.
Labels: 2016, comedy, David Bowie, Powerball, pretzel, salad, strawberry, Tila Tequila
Thursday, December 24, 2015
The Man Called Tomorrow
I'm always amazed at the interesting lives led by other people. As the selfie-obsessed ego-maniacs our society has evolved into, we all think that our lives are in the top percentile of interesting. If you take the time to listen to other people and what they've done, you realize maybe that fifth picture of the linguini you had last night wasn't the culinary game changer you thought it was. I attended the Christmas party in my mother-in-law's building last night and met a couple people who might be the most interesting I've met all year, possibly in the last five years. The first guy worked for the Air Force. His job? Packing parachutes into pilot ejector seats. What was my first question upon hearing this? "So, how accurate was the ejector seat scene from Die Hard 2?"
I should also share my thoughts on Star Wars: The Force Awakens, since that is now the dominant focus of popular culture. It's mildly ironic that, until recently, Star Wars was just the culture of unpopular people. Well, I saw it, thoroughly enjoyed it, then thought about it, and realized it was pretty much just a retelling of the first movie. Oh, sorry, SPOILER ALERT. I'm legally obligated to put that in front of anything that might give you a hint of what might happen in the movie. It's been out for a week, people. Don't get me wrong, it was everything it needed to be. It felt like a Star Wars movie, it had heart, the new characters were engaging, the old characters weren't just there for nostalgia's sake, everything fit together nicely. But, it's another droid with an important message for the rebellion dropped off on a desert planet, discovered by an unlikely hero who doesn't realize they're a part of something much bigger, being pursued by a draconian military force with a giant frickin' laser that can destroy a planet. I liken it to the 2006 reintroduction of Superman to movie audiences. A beloved franchise that newer audiences might not be as familiar with because the last installment, which stunk, came out almost 20 years ago. Superman Returns was pretty much an exact retelling of the first Superman: The Movie from 1978. The folks at Disney wanted to ease the new audience that was raised by parents that grew up on this stuff into the basic story of the franchise. That's being generous. It could also just be lazy storytelling on the part of J.J. Abrams, who wasn't above milking original Star Trek nostalgia to make his reboot seem more palatable. Either way, I liked it, I plan on seeing it again to try and catch stuff my teary fanboy eyes might've missed the first time.
One last thing. I'm getting back on the comedy horse and I've been booked to play a show on New Year's Eve. So, if you happen to be in the Harrisburg, PA area, I'll be at the Harrisburg Comedy Zone on Dec. 31st and Jan. 2nd with none other than Dustin Diamond, Screech from Saved by the Bell. See you there.
Have a very merry and a holly jolly. I'll see about getting one last installment up before year's end.
Labels: comedy, Comedy Zone, Harley Davidson, Saved by the Bell, Screech, Star Wars, The Force Awakens
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
The Blog Awakens
The big day is on the horizon. The newest installment of Star Wars will be forcing itself on the movie-going public in a matter of days, shattering box office records and re-branding just about every consumer product in the known universe. Before it gets here and sets the new standard by which all seventh movies in a franchise will be judged, I thought we should take a moment and figure out which movie series is the current holder of the title: Best Seventh Movie. Obviously we're not going to use any objective metric like box office gross or award nominations. In many cases, except for a couple of the ones on this list, any franchise that has gone that long is at the point of self-parody by plucky number seven. Let me point out that I haven't actually seen all of these, but don't let that dampen my expert-sounding tone.
7. Diamonds Are Forever (James Bond) - I've never been a James Bond guy. Sure, Sean Connery is the definition of cool, but when I was a kid I was more drawn to his turns in Highlander and Time Bandits. Awesome as being a super spy was, I wanted to be immortal and time travel with a group of British midgets. So, this belongs in the category of "haven't seen," but since this is the first major franchise to have a seventh movie (besides the Bob Hope and Bing Crosby "Road to..." movies), I figured it deserved a mention.
6. Wes Craven's New Nightmare (Nightmare on Elm St.) - While I wasn't much of a James Bond guy, I am a die hard Freddy Kruger guy. I've seen all of them. The recent reboot, like most recent reboots, is sacrilege. With franchises that run this long there is a general rule of thumb as far as quality. With the Nightmare on Elm St. movies, it's the odd numbered ones that stand out. This first is a classic, Dream Warriors is fantastic (with a cast that includes Lawrence Fishburne and Patricia Arquette), and Dream Child is one of the campiest entries, with Freddy at his catch-phrasiest. Which brings us to the New Nightmare. This was Wes Craven's attempt to make Freddy relevant again by rooting him in the "real lives" of the people who made the original film. Freddy has now transcended the screen. He's pissed that the series is over and the only way to stop him is for Wes Craven and Heather Langenkamp (Nancy) to make another movie. They try to up the creep factor by making Heather's son, who looks like he just came home from the Overlook Hotel, the conduit for Freddy's reemergence.
5. Star Trek: Generations - Like I mentioned earlier, there's a general rule of thumb when it comes to any long-running franchise. With Star Trek, it's the even numbers. Wrath of Khan, Voyage Home, and Undiscovered Country are all varying degrees of awesome. The only redeeming quality of Search for Spock was Christopher Lloyd as the lead Klingon... funny that they ended up time traveling in his ship for the next movie. Anyway, Generations had a tough legacy to overcome. Not only that, this movie was to be the bridge between the decaying original cast and the new class of Federation heroes that would carry the torch. Obviously, in order to do that, time needed to be rendered irrelevant. So, we're introduced to the Nexus, an extradimensional realm which allows those who enter to experience their pasts over again, whenever and however they choose, to ultimate and unending ecstasy. Kirk is stuck there and Picard must convince him to leave so they can team up to stop Soran, Malcolm MacDowell, from chewing the scenery into oblivion. It's a fun romp and we get to see Kirk get one last hurrah before taking up the mantle of Priceline Negotiator.
4. Furious 7 - This goes into the category of ones I haven't seen. I take that back. I have seen the first Fast & Furious, so I've technically seen them all. Cars, guns, bad-assery, and combinations of all three jumping out of planes, crashing through skyscraper windows, and ignoring any basic laws of physics. Not a complaint, mind you. Movies like this are about spectacle and this one bugs the viewer's eyes out like the love struck wolf in a Tex Avery cartoon...
3. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Pt. 1 - The first half of the last in the Harry Potter series finds Harry and his pals on a quest to destroy Voldemort's horcruxes. I think that's the plural of horcrux. The plural of vortex is vortices, so maybe it's horcuces. I'm not going to try to parse the grammar of made up words. I'm just glad it's not a damn emoji or something. This movie marks the first time in the series where it wasn't super creepy to look at Hermoine in the way that most creeps were doing since The Sorcerer's Stone. This was also the first movie in the series that broke from the formula that was established in the first one: Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts turns out to be a tool of Voldemort, Harry figures this out, wins a Quidditch match, uses whatever object happens to be in the title to beat back Voldemort, rinse, repeat.
2. X-Men: Days of Future Past - The X-Men franchise has been spotty. It's got two real quality entries, X2 and X-Men: First Class, and two that are widely regarded as two of the worst comic book movies ever made, those being X-Men: The Last Stand and X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Days of Future Past, much like Star Trek: Generations, serves as a bridge between the original cast (again with Patrick Stewart) and the prequels that have rejuvenated the franchise. Wolverine, who is basically just walking sinew at this point, is sent back in time to prevent the cataclysmic future that the X-Men are currently facing: Sentinels that can adapt to their mutations to take them out. This movie hinges on two great set pieces. The first is the prison break of Magneto with the mutant Quicksilver. Since Marvel and 20th Century Fox both technically have rights to the character, both decided to include him in their respective sweeping super storylines. This is the superior handling of the two.
1. Creed (Rocky) - If you haven't seen Creed, GO. SEE. CREED. When I mentioned that many franchises that go this long become a parody of themselves, this was where the Rocky franchise had gone. People forget that Rocky won the Oscar for Best Picture. Rocky II was a good movie. Rocky's III and IV are 80s cult classics, but they're cartoonish as hell. I need to go back and watch the boxing sequences in the first two movies, because watching the matches in Rocky III and IV, it's a wonder how any of those fights went longer than 30 seconds. They just pummel each other in the head with no thought of defending. The fifth and sixth in the series are hot garbage. Creed brings the respectability back to Sylvester Stallone that makes you all but forget Stop or My Mom Will Shoot! Google it. It follows the story of Apollo Creed's illegitimate son, Adonis, who seeks out Rocky Balboa to train him. I mentioned the boxing from III and IV, well they actually make the boxing look and feel real this time. The only thing that was missing was a dream sequence that could've brought Carl Weathers into it somehow. Sort of like in Happy Gilmore. Or maybe as a ghost Jedi.
Thanks for reading. I hope I can make a regular go at this again, but I'm easily distracted...
Labels: comedy, Creed, Furious 7, Harry Potter, James Bond, Nightmare on Elm Street, Seventh, Star Trek, Star Wars, The Force Awakens
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Stupid People Are People, Stupid
Thank you to everyone who voted for me in the Washington City Paper Best of DC 2014 Reader's Poll. If you look to your right, you'll see the fancy new widget declaring my runner-uppery. I'm winded from running up. My nipples are chafed. It was a long race. So, the pressure is off this year, since I'm only "one of" the best comedians in DC for 2014. Congrats to my buddy, Jimmy Meritt for taking the top spot. Next year will be the tie breaker.
Onward to my pithy musings...
I saw on Good Morning America that people are getting plastic surgery so they can look better in selfies. These people apparently have low selfie-esteem. Plastic surgery isn't going to fix the problem because they're flawed on a deeper level. Since they'll be under anesthetic already, why not take a melon baller to the part of their brain that gives a goddamn about selfies? I don't understand the obsession with selfies, probably because I'm old. Maybe they think because artists paint self-portraits that their duck-faced vanity is a form of expression. I think these people would be much happier with themselves if they had friends to take pictures of them.
Another thing I saw on GMA was a segment with chef Emeril Lagasse. They had viewers tweet him the leftovers in their fridge so he could find creative ways to "kick it up a notch". The stuff people were sending in didn't take a master chef to figure out what to whip up. The one I saw was basically, "Brace yourself Emeril. I've got eggs, bell peppers, mushrooms, swiss cheese, and flour tortillas. I can't wait to see what you do with that! I'm uncreative and I'm starving." I want to see what he does with the contents of the average American refrigerator, "I've got day old bologna, half a tuna fish sandwich, a six pack of Miller Lite, a box of baking soda, and I heard a voice say 'Zuul'." If he can come up with something besides the number for Poison Control, then color me impressed.
For the love of all things holy, please peel the stickers off of your baseball caps. I don't care what race you are, you look like a moron. You might as well leave the price tags on your clothes and make a boutonniere out of the receipt. Congratulations on your purchasing power.
As I was washing my hands (I know, "Stop bragging."), I noticed that the soft soap had directions on the back of the bottle. They read, "Use to wash hands as you would use any liquid hand soap". Listen, if you're going to assume that someone is dumb enough to need directions to use your soap, then don't assume they've used any other soap. Your apparent target audience is a feral wolf-boy who has only recently entered civilized society. You can't use the word you're trying to define in the definition. It's lazy and if it was genuinely meant to instruct someone to use soap, then give them a three step method or something. Shampoo does "Wash, Rinse, Repeat". Don't you guys have the same writers?
Thanks for indulging me. To be continued...
Labels: Best of DC, comedy, Emeril Lagasse, funny, GMA, Good Morning America, Jared Stern, selfies