Just Because You Drive A Crown Victoria That Doesn't Mean You're A Cop, Jerk.

I think the title above adequetly explains one of the many frustrations that crossed my path today.

I'm listening to Puffy AmiYumi's "Radio Tokyo" right now and I can't say I'm terribly impressed. It's not a bad song, but I'm not feeling it. I think I liked them better when I had no idea what they were saying, kind oif like the Pizzicato Five or Guitar Wolf.

I came home, intent on finishing a very short screenplay only to face a terrible case of writer's block. What's worse is, I've been talking about it for awhile now and I still don't find it presentable. Thhere are some good jokes, but there's something missing, a "maturity" I suppose. So, I thought it may be a good idea to expose myself to some art. After all, it's not like I had a terribly good or productive day up to this point.

I woke up, had a discussion about a friend's impending nuptuals, showered, had breakfast and went to work. There, I was instructed to write about a server and a 1930s Ford Model A. Yeah, I know...that makes perfect sense.

After inundating myself in computer lingo an archaic automotive lore, I left the office. While turning onto the Parkway, some geriatric douche in a Crown Victoria cuts me off. I so wanted him to smash into the "Toll Free" sign, perishing in flames before he spent his eternal torture in another fiery pit for being an asshole in a Crown Victoria. There's a special circle in Hell for that kind of man, I'm sure of it.

Why is it so much easier to write about this nonsense than it is to write a story about a salesman? Is it because Arthur Miller and David Mamet have done such acclaimed work with that oh so American archetype that I feel beaten before I begin?

No.

I'm writing a comedy.

Comedy is hard, like, a virgin on Prom Night hard.

On that note, back to the genius!

xoxo

Ian!!!

Shameless self-promotion

Oooh! Lookie Here! I'm an actor...again.
And a blast from the past...

Michael Ian Black @ Maxwell’s 6/2/06

Seeing Michael Ian Black perform at Maxwell’s was like going to see Jon Lovitz at a Weight Watchers meeting. Walking in, I wasn’t quite sure if I was about to sit through his clips from Vh1 or if I was going to get a real stand-up routine.

Boy, do I love being a pessimist, as I was pleasantly surprised.

Last night’s performance was hysterical. Michael Ian Black proved once again that he’s not just “that Vh1 guy”. He performed for about an hour, lambasting everything from Hitler to his possibly retarded son to Myspace. The crowd, much younger than I originally envisioned, didn’t utter so much as one State reference. Though they all laughed when he referred to himself as “the guy who talks about the Rubik’s Cube.”

Never one to shy away from self-deprecation, Mr. Black ran the gamut of skinny nerd from New Jersey to cocky C-List Basic Cable TV star. Realizing he couldn’t go down on every woman in the audience, he turned to a knock-knock joke his son write. It made no sense at all, which led to a monologue about his son possibly, no, probably being retarded.

He’s deceptively quick. When a woman in the audience screamed, “Bush sucks!” Mr. Black retorted, “That is an astute political observation, young lady. Someone get this girl on CNN.” Brilliant stuff.

Next time he’s in the neighborhood, check his set out, it’s completely worth the admission.

Xoxo


Ian!!!

PS Michael Showalter and the O’Debra Twins are doing a show at the Goldhawk on June 25…I’m so down!