Category Archives: columns

crap I wrote, tryin’ to be funny and whatnot

The Kids Hate Me

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When I moved into my house in August 2000, the neighborhood kids loved me. Over the last few months I’ve noticed a marked change in their behavior: now they seem to hate me. I don’t understand it. I also really don’t care.. but it puzzles me nonetheless. I must know why. I can’t destroy them if I don’t understand them.

I live on a cul-de-sac at the bottom of a hill that the children seem to congregate in. There is really nothing exciting going on down there, so I assume gravity has something to do with their presence.. perhaps they ride their little bikes and razor-scooters down the hill and are too tired or weak to go back to their homes? I don’t know.

Baby Chad

Baby Chad

We all started off on good terms. The older ones offered to mow my lawn and rake my leaves. The younger tykes rode their bikes up my driveway and I let them play in my yard. I didn’t even complain when they started to jump their bikes off the curb and land in my shrubbery. What do I care? I’m renting. As long as their mothers don’t sue me, we’re good. Plus, I don’t want to be that cranky, old guy who runs out into the yard in his boxers yelling and waving his fist.

There has always been a weird, unspoken pressure to be nice to the little bastards. Their moms always give me that look like they’re silently judging my “psychotic, loner neighbor” potential so I’ve gone out of my way to be extra good. I over-paid the kid who half-assed it while cutting my grass. I buy all the crap their schools force them to sell door-to-door like indentured servants. On Halloween, I had the best treats: SlimJims and full-sized candy bars. Plus, I’ve refrained from climbing up on my roof to snipe them with a b-b gun. But now I wonder if it was all in vain.

Every time I come or go, this one little boy yells out at me, “Hey Chad! You suck!” This is the same kid that routinely jumps out in front of my car on purpose with his arms outstretched in the “stop!” position. I go out of my way to not kill him day after day, and this is the thanks I get? How could he think I suck? The only time I ever see him is as I drive in or out of the neighborhood. I’m going to start beating him to it by yelling out, “Hey, kid! YOU suck!” before he gets a chance to scream at me. I shouldn’t feel bad about that punk. He’s the same one that came up to me one day while I was walking my dog and said, “Chad? You’re weird.”

“Now, THAT’s what a guy wants to hear,” I replied.

“You really *are* weird, though.”

“Thanks. I like you, too.”

Then he rode off on a pink girl’s bike. I ask you: just exactly who is the weirder one in that conversation?

For whatever reason, I seem to have become the Boo Radley of my neighborhood. Except instead of leaving neat little gifts for the children in my yard, my dog Guido leaves little “gifts” in their yards and tries to either hump or attack their pets.

The damn kids are starting to rub off on me, too. I find myself acting more and more like the punks. Now when people come up to me and say, “Hey Chad, you’re a self-important egotistical jackass.” I wittily reply, “I am fully aware that you are afflicted with such a sad state of affairs, however I would now ask that you let it be known to me what exactly it is that I seem to be?” Then they say, “did you just say ‘I know you are but what am I?’ You loser.” And then I weep openly, utterly unable to verbally defend myself.

It’s gotten to a point where now, I hate the kids. Where I used to have a soft spot in my heart for the cute little children, I now believe that these foul human larvae are dirty, ugly, carriers of disease with foul mouths and bad attitudes. The scariest thing is: if they keep going down the path they’re on.. they’ll end up like me.

So Long, Fucko, Part 2: Electric Boogaloo

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“Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! Freeeeeeeedooom! Freedom!” Not unlike Aretha Franklin’s character in The Blues Brothers, I have been set free. About ten months ago, a great plague fell upon my household. It wasn’t locusts, drought or syphilis.. no, no, no. I would have gladly endured any of those plights instead of what I had to put up with: the unholy presence of Jesse Perry.

Imagine being completely dependent upon somebody else for every aspect of your day to day life. Housing, transportation, food, cable television, high-speed internet access, you name it. Can you fathom such a horrible situation? Now, pretend that you are the person that somebody else is completely dependent upon. Even worse, picture this: the person permeating every facet of your life happens to be Jesse Perry. The terror!

Yes, the days of Mr. Perry infesting my house and destroying any shred of privacy I once had are over. All he left in his wake was a pile of debris and a spank-it magazine he had stolen from me months ago. Boy is the house different with him gone..

My pets have come out of hiding. I thought they died or fled the property months ago. I can now buy groceries and rest assured that nobody is sitting at my house while I’m gone, devouring all of my food. My shower drain is no longer plugged up with the hairs that leapt from Jesse’s sad, balding head as if it were a burning building.

I’ve aired the place out, and have begun sterilizing the surfaces. The most difficult thing to clean up is the Jesse residue, or “Jessidue” as I have come to call it. It’s an odd smelling, greasy film that can’t be removed with commercial cleaning products. I’ve found that the best way to get it clean is to use a copper brush and acid that I had to special order thru Home Depot. It’s dangerous work.. the chemical is very toxic. I have to wear rubber gloves, a breathing mask and goggles. It’s all worth the effort, though.

Finally, I have my life back. I can now sit at home and enjoy the peaceful silence of a Jesse-Free Zone. The joy! Pure ecstasy, I tell you. My cold, black little heart has warmed up like butter in a skillet in hell.. and it worries me.

With my life back in order.. with the tragedy over.. with the pain gone.. I began to fear that I may lose my edge. My comedy is fueled with smart-assed hate and loathing. How can I continue when I can’t feed off my hatred for Jesse Perry? That is a huge part of the negativity that courses thru me like the heroin in Courtney Love’s veins. But then I realized something that gave me hope for the future: Just because Jesse has moved out doesn’t mean I have to stop hating him!

So, for the sake of my comedy.. for the sake of MangyK9.. for your sakes.. I now make this pledge to you, the Chad Riden Fans: I will continue, strong as ever, with my bad attitude, my jackass behavior, and my cheap dead celebrity jokes. With Jesse out of my way, over at his new “Chateau Debris,” I can spend more time plotting against him uninterrupted. Even considering the worst case scenario (which would be forgetting my absolute despite for Mr. Perry and becoming, God forbid, his friend), I think everything would still be ok because I could focus more of my dark powers on the other marks out there who desperately deserve mockery and humiliation.

Watch out, no-talent pop stars! Heads up, mediocre, low-brow, derivative, unfunny, formulaic, predictable, hack late night talk show hosts who happen to have had a show on NBC at 11:35 Eastern Standard Time for the last ten years! Beware, you over-rated, pompous Hollywood jackasses with enough money to buy and sell me a million times over! I’m fully charged with spite and I’m ready to smother you with slander.

Imagine (No Stupid Bullshit) – Chad Riden Parodies John Lennon’s “Imagine”

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CHAD PARODIES “IMAGINE”
John Lennon had a vision… and Chad destroyed it.

DOWNLOAD THE MP3:
Chad_Riden-Imagine_No_Stupid_Bullshit.mp3 4.2 MB; (3:03)

Yoko Ono leased billboards in New York City, Tokyo and London saying, “Imagine all the people living life in peace.” Ya know, it just makes me think….
(cue karaoke version of John Lennon’s “Imagine,” and imagine me singing..)

“Imagine (No Stupid Bullshit)”
(parody lyrics by Chad Riden)

Imagine there’s no Yoko Ono
It’s easy if you try
The Beatles would have stayed together
and John Lennon might not have died
Imagine those fine musicians (and Ringo) continuing to rock on..
(ahh ahhhhh!)

Imagine there’s no Courtney Love
It isn’t hard to do
Her music is pretty forgettable
and she’s a crappy actress, too
Imagine Kurt Cobain and Nirvana still rocking out..

You (hoo!) may say I’m a moron
and I may be the only one
I hope someday these succubus bitches go away
and the world can have fun

Imagine no stupid bullshit
I wonder if you can
No need for lame ass crap
or pretentious jackasses in the land
Imagine all the lemmings, not knowing what to do

You (hoo!) may say I’m a moron
and I may be the only one
I hope someday you join me
and make fun of everyone

(“Imagine No Stupid Bullshit” parody lyrics © 2002 Chad Riden – all rights reserved.)

Martyr Without A Cause

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My close friends know me as an activist.. a renegade.. a rebel-rouser.. a man unafraid of the “consequences” of speaking my mind and ruffling a few feathers. I don’t pull punches and I don’t censor myself. I fight for what’s right, and I have the drive and determination to make a difference. What I don’t have.. is a cause.

I’m willing to die for what I believe in, but the problem is: I don’t believe in anything. There are no issues that tug at my soul. Well, no REAL issues, I mean. Sure, I’m a firm believer in all-you-can-eat buffets, the Blues, and sweet, sweet lovin’.. but nobody stands to oppose me on those fronts.

People aren’t exactly flooding my inbox with angry emails about my strong “pro-hilarious-comedy” stance.. and when I speak out against stupidity and moronic behavior, nobody pipes up with, “Gul durn it! Ahm dumb as hey-ll an’ prawwd of it, yew sumbitch!” (Except Jesse, but that’s just his way.)

Chad Riden, martyr

Nobody is really oppressing me right now. I’ve got a good job where they treat me well and pay me on time. My Lady is ive, understanding and fun. My dog does what I say. Even the cops and government agencies have left me alone for a while. It appears that for once, “The Man” isn’t out there working day and night trying to bring me down.. which disturbs me.

How will I take my rightful place amongst the great martyrs in history if I don’t die for a really cool cause? I’ve been racking my brain for days trying to come up with something I can protest. Religion? Society? Technology? Environmental issues? It’s all been done.

See, anybody can drive a van full of explosives into a guard booth somewhere in the Middle East.. but being Kamikaze Martyr #23,871,594 for some tired old cause isn’t going to make a difference. Jumping onto some well-worn bandwagon like the anti-nuke campaign, or the save the trees movement isn’t going to give them that extra boost they needed to win the war they’ve been fighting for decades.

No, I need a cause to rally behind that is bold and new. Something boldly new.. or newly bold. It’s gotta be something hip and sexy, too. When I make the ultimate sacrifice, I want Mtv all over it. They should devote hours and hours of full coverage to the tragic, yet historically important and spiritually justified, loss.

Don’t get me wrong here.. I’m not talking about doing damage to anybody else. I’m talking about the kind of self-sacrifice people did way back in the day: you know.. Joan d’Arc, Jesus – type stuff. I don’t want to hurt anybody else, that would ruin it. It’s all about getting people to say, “He was SO selfless! He gave his LIFE for ______________!”

So I’m looking for suggestions. I’m a man on a mission, I just don’t know what that mission is. If you can think of something for me to get all hot-headed about, by all means let me know.

Crazy Is As Crazy Does

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I may be a cold, heartless bastard.. but I think our society is too nice to insane people. A little too much leniency is given to people just because they’re “crazy.” I’m not talking about wacky eccentrics or goofy morons who act silly, I mean people who are really nuts. We encourage crazy. The message we send out is “whatever you do is ok if you’re insane,” and I think that’s bullshit.

Potential organ donor Andrea Yates wishes she had more kids to kill.
Andrea Yates

Potential organ donor Andrea Yates wishes she had more kids to kill.

Potential organ donor Andrea Yates wishes she had more kids to kill.

As I type this, closing arguments are underway for Andrea Yates, the Texas woman on trial for capital murder who claims she was legally insane when she drowned her five children last year. As is so often the case, the defense attorneys are using the old “insanity” defense. They fully admit that Yates killed her children, mind you.. but when she did it she was “crazy.” Under Texas law, if the jury believes she knew right from wrong they cannot find her legally insane.

We’re talking about a woman who methodically drowned her children one after another in the family bathtub.. a jury in Houston will deliberate to decide if she’s legally insane.. and that’s the craziest thing I’ve heard in a long time. OF COURSE she’s crazy, she killed her kids! Who cares if she “knew right from wrong?” What’s the difference?

Either way, she killed her kids.. plain and simple. She is on trial for murder and she readily admits that she did it. Case closed, she’s a murderer.. give her the chair and let’s move on.

They say, “but she’s insane! She needs psychiatric help!” No. Why bother? This planet is overpopulated as it is. Do we need to salvage this person? Do we need an extra body that bad? Hell, no.

Say we rehabilitate her. What is she going to do in the future that’s so damn great that we have to keep this woman around? Make a pie for the bake sale? Was she out there curing diseases or settling international disputes? No, she was a mother of five. That was her job.. and ya know what? She flipped out and killed her kids. Sounds to me like she doesn’t have any work here left to do. On to the afterlife.

We try way too hard to “fix” people. Some people are fucked up, plain and simple. We don’t need to integrate them back into society! Interacting with people isn’t exactly a murderer’s strong point. There are, however, other ways they could be beneficial to us:

A) Use the crazies for biological / pharmaceutical / medical experiments. Stop testing new drugs and methodologies on animals and people without health insurance. Use a convict! It’s a perfectly good human body just wasting away in a jail cell.

B) Organ Transplants. How many people are on the waiting list for a much needed vital organ? Death Rows across the nation are overcrowded. Bonk ‘em over the head, slice ‘em from head to toe and divy up the goodies. Thanks, boys!

C) Slave Labor. Sure we already kinda do that, but I want to step it up a little. I know convicts work for the state and various corporations for almost no pay.. but who cares if prisoner #61521855B made 250 license plates yesterday? The Egyptians made their slaves make cool things like the pyramids. Who is gonna give a crap when they dig up a license plate 3000 years from now? Put our prisoners to work making something memorable. If we work ‘em too hard and they die, there’s another organ transplant donor for ya.

I can just hear the people whining that I’m an insensitive meanie.. but, look: these people can be productive and contribute something to society. If they’re so “insane” then they won’t miss their kidneys, lungs and heart when the time comes. See? Everybody’s happy!

Thinking Outside The Box

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totb_graphI’m sure you’ve heard this phrase tossed around in commercials and promotions for various companies. It seems to be the leading catch phrase of the moment among the mindless sheep running Corporate America. Early returns from my exclusive polls show that “thinking outside the box” has just edged out the former buzzword of the moment, “seamless integration,” as the most over-used meaningless crap of our time.

It’s really hip now to be thought of as innovative thinkers. Every 62-year-old CEO with dozens of employees doing things he doesn’t understand in the least bit wants the world to know that he’s unorthodox, unpredictable, and a little X-treme! Unfortunately for these would-be hipsters, the very fact that they’re claiming to be “thinking outside the box” brands them as clueless chimps.

You see, with everybody “thinking outside the box” – it has become the norm. You’re not different if everybody else is doing the same thing. By jumping on the latest management-speak fad bandwagon in a desperate attempt to differentiate themselves from the crowd, these dolts have insured that they all sound the same. Now, “thinking outside the box” has become conventional wisdom.

Follow me on this.. Now that thinking outside the box is the norm, the only truly unorthodox way of thinking is now.. not “thinking outside the box.” The true free-thinking radicals shaking it up are those who realize that the people still “thinking outside the box” are actually sitting beside their original box patting themselves on the back for being so ingenious. Unfortunately for them, in this world of non-thinkers, they are sitting in a warehouse full of their pathetic peers (each sitting beside his own box) who blindly thinks that they are pushing the envelope somehow. In fact, these days one could be pretty innovative by thinking inside the box. Over time, perhaps the others will fall ill.. they are sitting in a drafty warehouse, after all. While you could be safe and sound, cuddled up in your cozy box.

These smug corporate lemmings talk about changing their paradigms and blah-blah-blah.. but when it comes down to it, they aren’t fooling anybody besides that naive girl in the office who tries to organize moral-boosting workshops from her cubicle / tree house in Fantasy Land. The only difference in the way the clods operate is now they’ve got Palm Pilots controlling their lives instead of Day Timers. Way to buck the system, you rebels! Form a committee and let’s workshop some action plans!

Cameo Mentions and Life Long Missions

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I haven’t written a new column in a while.. I’ve been pretty busy volunteering down at the Senior Center, comforting crack babies and learning to tango. I’ve also been doing more and more standup (to everyone’s dismay) and shameless self-promotion. Take a look at some of my virtual whoring over on www.ChadRiden.com and www.NashvilleStandup.com.

Yes, the masses have been flocking to the sites and live shows like flies to roadkill. Who can blame them? Everybody loves the funny ha-ha’s. Even some big name funny people are taking notice.

Wahoo mention screen-grab

Wahoo mention screen-grab

On January 15, 2002 the Late Show with David Letterman‘s website gave www.ChadMRiden.com a shout-out. “The Wahoo Gazette” is a daily backstage look at the inner workings of the Late Show (and the inner workings of production coordinator, Mike McIntee’s mind). It is, without a doubt, the greatest thing since the last greatest thing.

The next day, I was still riding that wave of love and free promotion.. I didn’t think I could top the previous day.. but wouldn’t ya know.. they followed up the mention of me with a nod to www.NashvilleStandup.com! Thanks go out to Mike and everybody else working hard to entertain America at the Late Show.

It was a wonderful surprise to get a Cameo Mention.. partially because I’ve never actually seen the show. There hasn’t been much of a chance for me to watch any television over the last ten years or so.. Life has been hard, and recreational time has been short. You see, all my talk about these “events” going on in Nashville is a load of crap. In reality, I have been living in the dumpsters on 53rd street in New York City since the summer of 1993.

It began innocently enough. I was a huge fan of the syndicated late night phenomenon, The Arsenio Hall Show. I was pretty deep into the dark world of Arsenio fandom.. I was one of his “dawgs,” if you will. However, I had just brushed the surface of what would soon become the driving force of my existance.

One fateful day in July of 1993 I requested a mission from my direct superiors in “The Dawg Pound” as a symbolic gesture of my ultimate dedication to The Cause: complete propogation of Arsenioism. I was to dedicate my remaining days to keeping a close watch on this David Letterman fellow. There was some sort of hooplah concerning the migration of said comedian from the employ of one evil global conglomerate to another morally deprived multi-national corporation. My duty would be to scour the streets in search of the closely guarded secret to Letterman’s power.

Logically, I began my quest by rooting thru the garbage of the Ed Sullivan Theater looking for comedy leftovers.. any scrap of discarded funny ha-ha’s would do. I was to report back to The Arseniosa with all I learned.

To cut a long story down to delicious bite-sized pieces, let me say that my ongoing mission continued as successfully as the great Arsenio Hall Show itself. To minimize the time squandered by commuting from Los Angeles to New York every day, I moved my residence to the Easternmost refuse recepticle proudly standing adjacent to the home of the Late Show.

I mostly found bits of sandwiches and memos from the office of Mike McIntee declaring his intentions to be more “MikeMacadocious..” but my mission wasn’t limited to scouring for such self-indulgent tidbits. Another major part of my calling was to sit near my new home and give Dave the middle finger every morning as he comes to work. This, to me, was the most rewarding part of the job.

Chad on the Late Show set

Chad on the Late Show set

It’s strange, because I’ve continued to conduct my research from my outpost in the dumpster even though I haven’t heard from the main office in a while. I’m guessing that Arsenio is doing so well that they’re not really worried about me. All I know is that my off-shore trust fund must be bursting with Arsenio-dollars by now.. but that’s not why I do this.. no, no.. I do it for the love of the craft.

P.S.: Today (February 1, 2002) is David Letterman’s 20th anniversary in late night television. Congratulations, Dave! Thanks for entertaining me for as long as I can remember.

What’s in? What’s out?

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IN: The Lord of the Rings.
OUT: The Lord of the Dance.

IN: Overpriced game consoles that will be obsolete in 3 years.
OUT: Playthings involving creative thinking and a healthy attention span.

IN: Low-cut jeans on hot, young girls.
OUT: Shirtless dudes.

IN: “Segway,” the $3,000 gyroscope scooter.
OUT: Walking down the street, pushing a bicycle.

IN: Accurate, responsible, and professional reporting of the news.
OUT: Geraldo.

IN: Osama-beards.
OUT: The little Hitler-esque square of chin-hair thing.

IN: Quality, well-crafted hilarious comedy.
OUT: Jay Leno.

IN: Blind, unfocused patriotism.
OUT: Apathetic ignorance.

IN: Overly dramatic computer virus warnings.
OUT: “Forward this and Bill Gates will pay you $500!”

IN: Talented, entertaining, original musicians.
OUT: Creed.

IN: Stable, reasonably priced software that makes computing fun and easy.
OUT: Windows XP.

IN: Intelligent, informed debate over the important topics of the day.
OUT: Talk about moving the Miss. America Pageant.

IN: Leaders with vision, substance and integrity.
OUT: Hillary Clinton.

IN: Dave.
OUT: Oprah.

IN: www.MangyDog.com
OUT: www.ChadRiden.com

Consumas Greetings!

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It’s the moosssst nauseating tiiiime of the year. Well, almost.. Valentines Day is hard to beat. The December Holidays are second in the race for most depressing season only because there isn’t heart-shaped crap in your face everywhere you go. Instead, it’s the cliched Christmas garbage that has been crammed down our throats so many times that we’re fooled into thinking it’s tradition.

This continued complete bastardization of the true meaning of the season has permeated every aspect of our daily lives. Everywhere you go.. what do you see? It’s out there in the malls.. it’s all over radio, television and the internet. It’s even inked all over that pathetic, old-world, dead medium, print.

Will we ever be able to escape from it all and get back to the basics? Or have they permanently altered our concept of what the meaning of this season is? What values and customs will our children pass on to theirs? I wonder if the old ways I know and love will be forgotten. Will the ways of my ancestors eventually wither and die from lack of interest like the wonderful Police Academy franchise? I’d like to bring Christmas back to what I refer to as the “Police Academy 1 – 4″ era.. the glory years.. the way it should be. As it stands, our holidays are stuck somewhere in the “Police Academy television series” era.. a total disgrace.

More than anything else, the one thing that really burns me is the way the religious zealots keep trying to sneak God, Jesus and The Bible into this once-sacred celebration. Always pushing their wacky ideas on everybody.. trying to make religion the focus instead of the one thing that we hold near and dear as holy: commercialism.

It just makes me sick to think that consumer spending is down so low this quarter. How can you call yourself an American if you’re not out there buying big ticket items like the Nintendo Wii? Don’t you care about the economy? Don’t you care about your kids? The only way to let your friends and family know that you love them is to buy them something impersonal and expensive. Roses and X-Boxes are good, but diamonds and SUV’s are better.

When will we all wake up and realize that self-reflection, worship and spending time with loved ones wastes precious time when we could be watching Coca-Cola polar bear commercials? While Satans little helper, Martha Stewart, pushes her wreaths and wassail, true traditionalists like myself know that nothing says “peace on earth” quite like over-extending your credit to buy the latest disposable-fad products at your local Wal-Mart.

Maybe I’m being too critical. It’s just that when I hear all this junk about the so-called “true meaning of the season” it really burns my brownies. I’m just thankful that when I get depressed about the way the world is heading, I can go into any Quickie-Stop-N-Shop and see Santa endorsing cartons of Lucky Strikes. That always cheers me up.

Have a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Kooky Kwanza, Funky Festivus, or whatever the hell it is you celebrate. I’ll help spread a little holiday cheer.. here’s a classic clip of my cameo appearance as Tiny Tim in George C. Scott’s “A Christmas Carol.” Clip courtesy of WBXX-TV.

httpv://www.youtube.com/v/YX075Zm_ahs&hl=en&fs=1

Lame Late Show Impressions (Show #1723 recap)

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Lame Late Show Impressions
Wednesday, December 12, 2001
Show #1723

News From The International Idiots Home Office

Andy Garcia, Chris Matthews

PLUS: George Clarke’s Celebrity Interview, Holiday Hairpiece Not A Hairpiece, a Kaulter Twins piece from Entertainment Tonight, and other stuff.

“And now, Pashtun Tribal Leader, David Letterman!”

It’s funny, ’cause it’s TRUE! No, no, no. The actual Pashtun Tribal Leader is the soft-spoken Hamid Karzai, who was named interim Prime Minister by the U.N.-sponsored gathering of Afghan factions in Bonn, Germany. Hamid’s headquarters is a huddle of mud huts in the southern Afghan desert in Shahwalikot. Or at least that’s what that rag, TIME, says.

The monologue dripped with delicious comedy goodness:

- Guy in front of the Ed / middle finger / gave / bottle of cologne.
- NYC kids / pay attention to their faces / might have to pick them out of a lineup.
- Christmas gift for paperboy / put it in an envelope / drove by / threw it into a puddle.
- News from Afghanistan / Osama can’t communicate with his agents / I’ve had same problem / 20 years.
- Osama / facelift / doing pre-Oscar show with daughter Melissa bin Laden.
- Osama / improved look / so attractive / last night he went out and got “bin Laden.”

The middle finger guy is always fun. NYC kids’ faces is a funny rerun, too. I liked the Osama jokes as well. A short, sweet set.

Paul fanfare

Guest list

Oprah update: It’s “just a matter of time” according to People. If you ask me (and I know you haven’t), it’s just a matter of time until Oprah gets so full of herself she explodes. I just hope she’s outside of Chicago when it happens. I’d hate to see my sweet home splattered with Oprah-goo.

Oceans 11 has “fantastic star power.” The phrase “fantastic star power” reminds me of when the Star Trek kids took the Enterprise around the sun and went back in time. Sometimes I wish I could do that and go back to a time when the Star Trek franchise didn’t suck.

George Clarke has a celebrity interview with George Clooney. “George are you rubbing your foot against my leg?” “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself” “Stop it.” Dave says, “he’s just that good looking.” Is he talking about George? or was it George?

Holiday Hairpiece, Not A Hairpiece. Hi-ho babes in santa-babe suits.. what more do you need to know?

The Late Show Newsletter : Week of November 12, 2001 said, “Late Show supermodel Andrea Sande… is soon leaving New York City to join the cast of a soap opera produced in Brazil.” When is she leaving? I really don’t want her to go. I’ve been looking into ways to get Brazilian soap operas here in Nashville. If anybody has any suggestions, please let me know. Also, if there are any LSwDL staffers reading this, please tell Andrea I love her.

Dave feels bad about this guy, and guesses ‘not a hairpiece.’ I laughed at the obvious rug as soon as he was on camera. It still looked better than my hair at its best, though.

We went into the break 11:17 into the big show.

ACT 2

Felicia is using a slide thingie.. sounds good. I just got my first guitar a few weeks ago. I’m still learning my first song right now: “Maggot Brain” by Funkadelic. I don’t quite have it yet, but I’m getting closer.

Rupert says “the hair was going against the grain.” Will Rupert be with us all night? What does he do when he’s not? “I go home.” That’s funny, I’d expect Rupert to get wild on the town before retiring for the night. A decadent romp thru the streets of the city that never sleeps! Questionable activities while consorting with shady people in filthy places.. finally crashing out early in the morning in Central Park. Doesn’t everybody do that? or is it just me?

Dave brings up “Alan & Rick, the Kaulter Twins.” Hairpiece? Alan should have shot back something about Dave’s prison cut. What a great piece this was. The duo split in 1977.. “songs in the key of kaulter” was one of their albums.. Tonight Show clips! The Tonight Show starring Johnny Carson! How cool. Reminds me of the times back when Tonight was still a proud beacon of quality comedic entertainment, not the pathetic smoldering shambles of a show it has become.

Mark Fichman (former manager) says, “about those gold records: did you look at them? they’re pancakes!” Ha! Alan (or is it Rick?) was interrupted while singing “Where is the love?” by Rick (or was it Alan?) screaming, “are you trying to miss every G-D note? Go to hell you red-headed freak!”
Jon Read (studio engineer), claims that this is, “the creepiest job i’ve ever had in my life. and i’ve worked with Michael Jackson.”

“They really like making up.” Both Alan and Rick in a spa, drinking champagne. It would be really disturbing if this wasn’t so funny.

Top 10: Excuses Of The American Taliban Guy. Boy what a tool, this kid is. The youth of America, ladies and gentlemen! Raise your kids, parents. Please.. I’m begging you.

The list claims he was tricked by the brochure.. was interning.. got tired of wearing clean clothes and not getting shot at.. thought it was a paintball game.

Going out to commercial, we see a bump shot of Alan and Rick’s toast..

ACT 3

Green Onions! Love that song. My favorite version of that is on The Blues Brothers’ “Made in America” album… co-produced by Paul Shaffer.

Andy Garcia
Andy plays Harry Benedict in the Ocean’s Eleven remake. I know Hollywood thinks it can do whatever it wants, but how can you possibly think you can do a better job at *anything* than Frank Sinatra and his “clan”? I’m an egomaniac, but I don’t even come close to that kinda gall. When visiting a military base, “they were wildly excited to see Julia.” Who wouldn’t be? If there are any Julia Roberts staffers reading this, please tell Julia I love her.

Andy is also in “The Man from Elysian Fields” as a male escort who was “turned out” and pimped by Mick Jagger. Apparently this happens often due to the dang-ole telemarketers. Here in Tennessee we have some kinda “No Call” law preventing the telemarketers from dialing us up. Does it work? I dunno. I don’t have a regular phone… just a cell. I’ve never recieved a telemarketing call on it.

ACT 4

Chris Matthews
Host of Hardball and author of “Now let me tell you what I really think.” Dave doesn’t think hardball is mean, instead he finds it exciting. I haven’t spent a lot of time watching the show. Chris thinks we’re back to honoring our 5-year-old heros: firemen, nurses. Great! Now, let’s pay them well. What good does it do to put a flag on your car and wear a stupid ribbon? Let’s do something of substance.

Dave asks about flying, and Chris answers with a comment about eye contact in NYC. “Homeland security” puts him in the mind of words like “motherland, fatherland.” That is kind of weird. Eventually getting to the flight question, Chris asks who is going to stop somebody from putting a “bandanna on the top of their head.” ME! No bandannas on my watch! I used to wear “doo rags”.. until Tupoc (God rest his soul) retired to that great golden Cadillac in the sky. Then, out of respect for the man who laid down his life for peace in hip-hop, I laid down my bandanna. Chris suggests we fight terrorists with our shoes, belts, and laptops.

“We’re like pioneer men, again… Davy Crockett, Daniel Boone.” What? When did this happen? We’re primitive people, but I don’t see “us” as Davy Crockett-like. I don’t get it.

Chris thinks the Osama tape contains “Hitler stuff, Nixon stuff.” Grouping Osama bin Laden with Hitler and Nixon? I laughed.

On the American Taliban kid: “Its a free country, he bought his ticket.” THAT, I agree with. Screw the little traitor.

ACT 5

Wave, yokels! You’re on tv!

ACT 6

Dave says Johnny Walker is “in a shipping container.” Good. Anybody who looks that much like Charles Manson should be kept in a giant Ziploc disposable tupperware thing. Mr Matthews says he’s “so far to the left, Hillary Clinton called him a traitor.” Hey, that’s pretty good! “Don’t let him ever come back, treat him like everybody else in the cave.”

A good guest. I started off not liking him, but when he started talking about the traitor-kid, he won me over. At least Chris Matthews has something of substance to say. I don’t always agree with him, but that’s good. If everybody agreed with me it’d be a frightening world.

ACT 7

The wrap up. “Come back when you have something on your mind.”

“Put on your pants.” Always good advice.

CONVERSATION AND DISCUSSION SPARKED FROM THE WAHOO GAZETTE

Mike says, “diamonds are so stupid. Hasn’t mankind evolved past the point of being fascinated with shiny rocks?”

I wish. Don’t buy expensive crap for Christmas presents.. it doesn’t mean you love them more, just ’cause you spent more money. Buy cheap crap! And what better place to buy cheap crap than Mangy Dog’s online store. Go now, go often, go nuts!

THIS WAS CONVERSATION AND DISCUSSION SPARKED FROM THE WAHOO GAZETTE

Overall, I felt it was a great show. At least Nashville’s CBS affiliate, “NewsChannel5″ WTVF-TV, “Your News & Information Leader” didn’t completely screw the entire broadcast up the way they normally do. The Master Control Operator must’ve been asleep, ’cause usually he rolls breaks late, dips to black, and puts up obnoxious weather graphics that cover 2/3 of the screen talking about slightly inclement weather 100 miles away from their actual coverage area. Not tonight.. it was a clean show. Props to you, WTVF!