Saturday, January 29, 2011

92Y TriBeCa, 10:30 PM

Come join in the fun, I will be there doing something special. Just watch!

“You see this watch?”
We’ve recommended karaoke, hip-hop karaoke with a live band and Michael Austin’s sing-alongs, but now there’s a new game in town, Movieoke at 92YTribeca (200 Hudson St at Canal St; 212-601-1000,; 10:30pm, sign-up 10:15pm; $10). Bring along your favorite DVD and sign up to perform the dialogue from your favorite scene onstage, while the movie projects onto a big screen without sound and with subtitles. The Big Quiz Thing quizmaster (and TONY copy chief) Noah Tarnow hosts and breaks out trivia questions and giveaways. Finally, we can stop reciting Alec Baldwin’s motivational speech from Glengarry Glen Ross in the mirror and take it out into the world: “Nice guy? I don’t give a shit. Good father? Fuck you! Go home and play with your kids.”

Friday, January 28, 2011

Yours truly graces the pages of today's New York Times!

The past few days have been good ones -- I got to do yoga two days in a row, I've doing lots of comedy (2 great sets last night at Comix and Gotham Improv) and though I think I may have strained my taint, I am feeling very good today, even more so after the terrific news that I'm in today's New York Times! I've been quoted and photographed as part of Erzsi Pongo's "Pongo Power Funny Fitness" comedy show. Liam McEneaney also has a funny quote in the story. Read the whole ding dang thing here.

Every performer, comedian and human who likes success and achievement in general strives for recognition and appreciation in this life time. And I am not only no different, but probably an example of a person who strives for those things in even more slightly shameful amounts, levels that might make god cry. So this makes my day, indeed.

A special thanks to Amanda Petrusich and Daniel Barry for the story and photo.

My next big show is 2/14, details are here and of course you can always find upcoming show details on my website,

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

YOGA does not BLOWGA! Who knew?
Everyone except for me.

My friend turned me on to free Yoga at the new pop up Park Here in NoLIta (is that the right combination of capital and lowercase letters? I'm not sure. And why aren't they just called biggsie letters and smallsie letters, anyway?) and it blew my freakin' mind.

I have been doing my own kind of yoga for awhile now, ya know, strange looking stretches that slightly resemble something that could be yoga in a weird alternate universe where people who look and act just like us also do yoga, and I have to admit, I'm pretty good at not doing yoga. I can do odd split like things and back breaking bridge looking bend type poses that are probably giving me cancer as I type this. But I haven't really ever yet been to a yoga class. Until today.

OK, so I went to one yoga class once but I was so intimidated by all the cool skinny hipsters (this is when I was a much less secure person) that me and my big butt just kind of loitered in the back like a lesbian stalker, silently flatulating to myself.

But this class I went to today, which I suppose was sponsored by YogaWorks because they handed me a card afterwards, gave me just the amount of challenging butt kicking meets creative stab in the guts that I've been looking for. It was hard, it was soft, it hurt, it felt so right. I never want to do not yoga again. That is to say, I do want to do yoga forever. Yoga, now that I've found you (about 10 years after the recent popularity curve) I am yours. And I am a very loyal friend.

BONUS: I ran into Jessie Cantrell there (and we had a little improvisational fun). She was recording a comedy piece for her new regular Fox 5 NEWS videos, "That's How Jessie Sees It" -- GO JESSIE!!

Thursday, January 20, 2011


Hey, y'allsies, I am really excited to invite you to two
great shows I'm doing in the next few days:

THIS SAT, Jan 22 @ 7 PM
FAMILY HOUR with Sara Benincasa @

The new PIT
134 East 24th St.
between Lexington and Park
New York, NY


Mon, Jan 24 @ 7:30 PM

with Kurt Braunholer / Kristen Schaal
@ Littlefield
Park Slope, NYC

My fun lounge band "Puss N Boobs" featuring
the ultra-fab Lauren Oppelt (she dressed the characters
in Pee Wee Herman's broadway show...) will be
making a fun appearance as the house band as well.

Keep your eyes out for info about the Carnal Carnival and other
Feb dates, coming up. As always, feel free to peruse the blog soon

Thanks and hope to see you at one of these great shows.
I think tix are both in the $5-$7 range. Affordable! Economical!


Monday, January 17, 2011

Motel Lorraine

This is a gorgeous photo taken by Alex M. Smith of the Motel Lorraine where Martin Luther King jr was assassinated. RIP MLK jr

Sunday, January 16, 2011


I went to go buy some dumplings today at my local dollar dumperino and I saw a gaggle of black fellas hangin' out in the place, taking up nearly the whole joint all spread out around all the tables, not that there were too many in the shoebox sized establishment, if you want to call that hole in the wall where I get my food on a regular basis an "establishment".

At first the fur on my back got a little bunched up because I was raised in Maine, a place where there are no black people, and anti-racist or not, when I see a group of sexually active aged men together, really of any color, I get a little angsty, because if you are a woman and you have to step through a crowd of dudes ever, you know it can get ugly fast. However, I sighed a big fat breath of relief upon two seconds of entering, because all the black dudes were dressed in punky clothing and were holding skateboards.

Please more black people adopt white culture, or really any culture that makes me not afraid to walk by you.

Generally, whatever their nationality, skateboarders are pretty cool. To stereotype them, they are typically cute-ish, smart-ish or at least free thinking yet ballsy, independent yet often drug free / light or straight edge, generally slender, often from families or backgrounds with a little dough to burn yet not creepy rich, and they mind their own bees wax.

It was highly entertaining and even relaxing to hear the group of guys talking about ollies and skating. They were laughing and talking about falling on their asses and trying tricks out and being sponsored and they were clearly teenaged, yet they didn't seem to be plotting a robbery as it seems like so many of the teens wandering the streets of NYC are. You can see it in their eyes. Speaking of eyes, they weren't undressing me with theirs, at least not verbally, nor were they harassing the business owners, and I doubt they were packing anything besides probably relatively normal sized penises or perhaps a Leatherman.

I don't mean to come across as racist, or fuck it, maybe I do, but I hate walking around the city and feeling scared of the men here. Getting harassed on the street really sucks and it mostly only ever comes from average-ish looking black guys, creepy homeless-y looking white / questionable ethnicity guys or spanish delivery guys. Once a spanish delivery guy actually rode up behind me on his bike while I was riding my bike and pinched my ass. A man on a skateboard never did that. Good looking business men of any color don't ever "just gotta ax me a question" and neither do skateboarders, surfers, dudes who ride weird looking bikes and aren't delivering food, hipsters, graffiti artists or anyone else doing white people stuff.

Also, Chinese men never harass me. That's one of the reasons I love hanging out in Chinatown, because the Chinese guys never ever bother me on the street, ever, and even if they are cat calling me, which they're not, I have no idea what they're saying.

I LIKE to get bothered, mind you. I enjoy a handsome, clean, nerdy looking guy on the subway of any color, dressed sharply to look at me discreetly over a copy of a frayed David Sedaris novel and smile. Thank you, sir, may I please have another? I enjoy a
group of hipster-y looking boys to ignore me except to stare me down momentarily in a way that almost feels like I'm being judged. I probably am. Judge me with your eyes, successful men of the world. Everyone else, leave me and the rest of the female population alone. We wouldn't be in this mess if your dad hadn't just been like you. But if I may make a suggestion, perhaps instead of being yourself, try being someone else. Pick up skateboarding or get a pair of those nerdy square framed glasses and start working at the Williamsburg library and, well,...let's...just...see...what...happens.

I bet you stop bugging the shit out of me like *snap* that.

Please go ahead and feel free to nominate me for a "Shorty Award" with the hand you are not using to scratch your intimates with, in the categories of humor, music or weird. You can use either hand, though, honestly, I don't mind. Or both, even.

Go here and do it:

These awards are based on "Twitter" content, so if you need proof, visit and read my hilarious, sometimes musical oriented, always kind of weird tweets.

Thanks, kiddo!

Saturday, January 15, 2011


Today has been a day of watching documentaries. I started the day watching "Exit Through The Gift Shop", with Granny at her suggestion. I'm glad and lucky that Granny (a very cool 70 something year old lady I love who is not actually my granny) is cool enough to encourage me to do things like watch the Banksy doc. When it came to the theaters I was so broke I didn't have the money to go at the time.

I know that the dirty folk comedy ditties may seem like a lucrative career but even us ribald ""comediennes"" have it rough sometimes.

The documentary pretty much blew my mind. It was the story of a monster of sorts that Banksy accidentally created when he met, inspired and suggested a french crazy person / documentary maker named Thierry produce an art show of original works. I love Banksy too, and it documented his work and his process. I have a print of his on my wall in my living room. It's the one where an erudite artist with a fancy palette is painting a crude penis on a wall. I think it symbolizes what I do in a nut-sack-shell. I left Granny's wishing I had a can of spray paint in my hand. That's the kind of art I love the best -- art that makes me want to leave and go immediately start doing whatever it was I just saw.

I've always been kind of suggestible. It's a shitty way to live. People do things that inspire me and if I'm not careful, I will adapt it like a chameleon. Now that I'm a little more experienced at life and set in my ways, I'm less likely to pick things up with such head spinning ADD characteristics the way I used to, and that is why the Banksy doc was so amazing to me.

When I was in art school in the late 90s and oughts in Philadelphia, I hung out with a few fledgling graffiti artists. The nerdy dumb asses I wasted time with had lame ass monikers and gay ass styles, tagging their initials on sidewalks and such with the voracity of a semi erection, but they were trying to figure it out. Unfortunately, it was enough to uninspire me enough to get a job at a dot com immediately upon graduation.

Watching that doc reignited the imagination that I had as a little spit in the 90s. I strongly recommend anyone with writer's block watch that doc while shoveling down a handful of Granny's homemade peanut butter cookies.

The second doc I watched today was Dogtown and Z-Boys, a documentary about skateboarding. I hung out with a handful of skaters in the 80s in Maine. They were cool kids with a good sense of humor, cute glasses and asymmetrical hair dos. I would have given my whole collection of Violent Femmes tapes at the time to have shared a first kiss with one of those grape lollipop stained mouths.

When I was in my mid 20s, I boyfriended comedian Roger Hailes for a bit. When the summertime came, he skated around on a longboard and inspired me to buy a skateboard and to try surfing at Montauk, as well. Never the graceful one, I practically drowned the first time I surfed and the first time I skated I think I skinned my entire leg from shin to knee. Roger pleaded with me not to skate, afraid I'd maim myself and then he'd be left in the awkward position of 'to ditch or not to ditch the mangled chick'. But he didn't have to worry long, I left it in my car and it got stolen, ending my week long skating stint.

Though the Z-Boys doc didn't inspire me in the same way "Exit" did, the punk-ness of it was just delightful. It features a lot of old footage from the 60s and 70s of famous skaters zipping around in pools as kids and it made me wish I was 12 one more time so I could fuck up my life all over again in a different way.

I imagine one day I will be a mother who, upon learning my kids are heading out for a night of whatever crazy shit kids do in the future -- cloud graffiti-ing and plane surfing -- will say, "Well, that sounds lovely, you kids have a nice time!"

I look forward to seeing what kind of messed up stuff the kids born of my demented loins and laurels do. I can only hope they'll be involved in the dawn of a creative era of some kind.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

I had a sexy dream about Marc Maron last night

I'm constantly grappling with feeling likable on stage, yet I also love that the stage is a place where I can be totally honest. It's always a challenge for me to find where the boundaries of the two meet. Will I ever learn? Who knows. But why not join me in another attempt, as I do consider this blog to be an extension of the stage.

Today's blog entry is about a real life and somewhat embarrassing dream I had last night.

We've all had them. Sexy dreams about people that we didn't, perhaps, 'mean' to have them about. People who disgust us, our bosses, the kid in school who picked his nose, what have you. I've had sexy dreams about people I definitely meant to have them about, like Owen Wilson. That was one of my favorite dreams, ever.

Last night, I had a sexy dream about Marc Maron. I mean, it wasn't that sexy or else I probably wouldn't be writing about it. I'd be keeping my big mouth shut about it. It was actually rather G rated. There wasn't even any heavy breathing. I really don't know why I had a sexy dream about Marc Maron. I rarely ever think about Marc Maron, and I certainly never had a 'thing' for him, no offense, Marc, if you ever read this, though I'm sure the feeling is mutual. I forgot I even had the dream at all until today I saw a post of his on my Facebook wall. Then whammo, it all came flooding back to me, like a tidal wave with Marc Maron's face on it - you know, glasses and such.

In the dream, Marc and I reconnected after not seeing each other for a few years. We spent the afternoon together, lying around and talking and laughing, and at the end of it all, we kissed. The next day (in my dream) I listened to his podcast and he talked about how he'd met a really nice girl that he knew from years ago and that something had clicked between us and that he was feeling really good about it.

Are you bored of reading about my dream yet? I am already bored of writing about it. Not to say that Marc isn't a handsome, kiss worthy fellow, but who enjoys reading about people's dreams? Sleep experts, maybe, but they probably don't actually enjoy it, either. Ever ask someone how a movie was and they recount the entire plot to you, including character's names? That's what hearing about dreams is like for me. 'Don't ruin the ending,' I always say to people who insist on telling me their dreams. I hope they never invent a dream recording device, because a lot of dreams are going to go straight to DVD.

I used to know Marc years ago. I was dating a comedian named Kurt Metzger and he and Marc became friends, and Marc's ex and I were friends. It also turned out Marc and Kurt and I were neighbors. One year, we had Easter dinner together. Marc talked to Kurt and I about his background in comedy, and at the time he was kinda bummed because he was feeling discouraged. Kurt and I were a bit dumbfounded because to us, Marc was pretty famous. I mean, as we were leaving, he gave us a copy of his book. At the time, not just anyone and everyone had a book. It was a much rarer thing.

Now, it seems that Marc is doing even better than I suppose he was doing then.

But why would I have a dream about kissing Marc Maron? Why now? Why Marc? I think I realized that the dream was a metaphor for my own challenges, and somewhere, my brain dug up the memory of that old conversation with Marc. Dumb old brain, hoarding dumb old conversations.

I think the dream was my mind's way of telling me to hang in there, "like Marc" and that good things are still to come. The thing that's funny to me is that, a lot of the people he mentioned as having "made it" during that conversation are way outdated now, and not doing much of anything. I just love how people go up and then they go down. Even celebrity status can't escape gravity. Remembering that will always and forever keep me humble. I wish it did, everyone.

Things are not going badly for me now. I'm prepping for my UK tour this summer and I'm always performing and keeping busy. Googling myself makes me smile - though I know it's slightly icky, I also know we all do it. But I do look around at my peers and see some of them doing big things. People I started out with. And I wonder, "Why not me?" Why don't I have those things that I want? I admit, I do wonder sometimes, though deep down I also have answers. I made some bad choices, I am not always genius level funny, I am scatterbrained and there's also a few je nais cest qua reasons. I know that meanwhile, others look at me and wonder why they aren't where I am. Sometimes people say directly to me, "I am so jealous! Why you and not me?" I secretly simultaneously hate and appreciate this. I laugh on the outside and cry on the inside. "If only you knew the dark ass places life has taken me. Appreciate having nothing, you shit!" I think to myself.

I am sure I'm not alone in asking myself, "Why not me?". Maybe even Marc still wonders it from time to time. I'll guess next time I see him in one of my dreams, I'll ask him.
Today is 1/12/2012, or "Lookidy Goo" Day

Holy feces, everyone, did you see today's date? It's 1/12/2012. There is "12" TWICE in today's date 1 - 12 - 2012. Do you know what this means? DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS? Symbiotic energy is all over the planet! People are interconnected with the stars and chickens and planets everywhere today. Some crazy shit is ABOUT TO GO DOWN!

Everyone, I instruct you to go buy extra water, at least 2-3 two liters of Cherry flavored Vintage seltzer. Grab a box of bandaids while you're at it, you never know what might happen today.

When you get home, hold hands with everyone in your family and meditate on the number 12, which represents the floors in buildings everywhere just below the 13th, or "invisible" floor. It also represents how many kids people must have in order to star on their own TV show about having a lot of kids.

So today is a magical day, indeed! Everyone, don't forget to look at the clock today at 1:12 pm and chant the words, "Lookidy goo, it's 1 1 and 2" for extra good luck. But the most important part to this magical day is believing in your cat's ability to see the future. The next time they are sleeping, watch their stomach gurgle. If it gurgles 3 times, an angel will be sent to watch over you next time you wash dishes. If the cat's stomach gurgles twice, look both ways before getting into the shower tomorrow.

Lookidy goo, everybody!

Saturday, January 8, 2011


This needs no preface. All I can say is, yet again, I can't believe this kind of stuff goes on in the world but I can't simply play my songs on the radio. Maybe I should masturbate my songs with a cow vagina and then big corporations will start throwing money at them hand over fist, the way they do SeaWorld, or should we call it, "SemenWorld"?

Friday, January 7, 2011


Yummy chocolate, not the best ever, but it might be as good as you can get at 10 PM in Lower East Chinatown. We're lucky to have gotten chocolate at all around here. #ChineseDontEatDairyOrMuchOfAnythingElse


Yummy Macallan #ClothesRemover


Nice hand-rolled cigar from local stogerie, Mayara, the hip new cigar joint in my zip code. Check out my Mayara review on YELP #WhatJayZRollsHisBluntsWith


Good (albeit deranged) music #RemindedMeOfHaunted Pussy)


Like tripping on acid in heaven.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Tune into KATG Marathon

I'm going on at 5 PM NOW on Wednesday. Keith and Chemda are awesome. Listen in.

Sunday, January 2, 2011


Happy New Year, everyone. I know some people say that, but they don't mean it, and other people say it but they don't really give a crap whether the whole year is happy, or just the first few minutes, or none of it at all.

But when Jessica Delfino says "Happy New Year", she really and truly means, god dammit, you better get your ass out there and have a happy new year.

To get you started off right, why not treat yourself to a sampling of some of the first of my humorous snippets of the year, via my Twitter page?

If you like what you find there, don't forget to click the "follow" button in the upper left hand corner. If you need reminding, just come back to the blog again tomorrow and re-read this sentence.

And to all a good night.