Filed under: Comedy, Hello boysssss, Husband hunting, Music, New York, Theater | Tags: Donald Glover, sold out, Troy without Abed
Gambino ’bout to kick it:
Gambino got some gunssss:
Gambino gettin’ away:
Gambino havin’ funnnn:
Look! I wrote a rap. From now on call me “Vizual Hunter” (actual Wu-Tang generator name).
(Also yeah, I would hit that.)
Bowery Ballroom, 3/4.
The show was fine: Swedish, dream poppy, mustachioed dude from the Radio Dept, blah blah blah. But I want to use this space for a mea culpa of sorts. To the blonde who tried to buy me a beer, you should know a couple of things:
1) I’m incredibly oblivious and 2) I really wasn’t in the mood for beer! I certainly didn’t mean to make you apologize for asking me. It was very nice of you!
“Sorry,” you said.
Like, “Sorry I bothered you.”
But it probably shoulda been
“Sorry you’re such an asshole.”
Because I wasssssss. If you’re reading this, little guy, I’M sorry. Maybe next time try asking if I wanted a ginger ale? Or some p’tato chips? It was late Sunday night. You know, work week and all. But who knows, maybe if you’d asked a second time and not disappeared out of embarrassment (because, again, I’m an asshole) I woulda gone for the booze. And possibly even more.
SORRY MOM AND DAD.
Filed under: New York, puppy puppy puppy oy! oy! oy!, sometimes i like to do things with dolls, Theater, Weird Science
You like my emo butt stars?
Well I dig your retro phone, mama.
I go both ways…
…if you know what I mean.
Ironic Lampshade is the name of my band.
I wonder if anyone can smell my fart.
WHAT IS LIFE.
I just took a dump over there I’m so hipster American Apparel on my butt aaaaaaahhhhhh.
Goin’ to a rave right after this.
[whispering] Fuck you.
I only know three chords but I make up for it with style.
Hey girrrrl, wanna get out of here and grab a bite? I brought my own PBR.
Fine, whatever, look, I have a show I’ve got to get to.
No, it’s cool, you’re not on the list anyway.
[whispering] Fuck you.
[Hipster Puppy Pageant, powerHouse Books, 8/25/2011]
Filed under: Hello boysssss, Husband hunting, oy oy oy, Theater | Tags: grosssss food
So, as I’m sure my mother’s told all of you, I’m in the market for a husband. She thinks he should be mature and have a good job and all that, but I just want him to have a good appetite. Because I love to cook! If you know me, you know that’s definitely true.
So guys, it was amazing when I saw these for sale in my local tuck shop. How serendipitous!
They are delicious and raspberry. For sure, no man could resist. And of course, he would love me for giving it to him.
So I put on my pearls and laid it out, and sure enough, it attracted someone…
…a MAN someone…
But then he ate it and it was gone. And before I knew it, so was he.
Sorry mom! Maybe next time I’ll put a sedative in it. That should work, right?
[Provocateur, 3/11, some time after 2 a.m.]
… at his play, Neil LaBute’s The Break of Noon. And they fangirled the fuck out.
First they got a playbill signed…
Then they did this:
Two things I love:
1) That for some reason Jen’s clutching her Cleopatra book, ready to break it open if there’s a reading emergency, and
2) How appalled the woman on the left looks. She is clearly not a X-Files/Californication/sex addict fan.
C’mon lady, he went to rehab!