Tag Archives: New Jersey

Soundgarden

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Meat Shits

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Comedy = Tragedy + Time

At least I didn’t put this up yesterday. (From BANDS I USETA LIKE II.)

kennedyskullsOtto Petersen was a ventriloquist who entertained audiences from the early 1970s until his unfortunate demise in 2014. He was a living encyclopedia of show biz minutiae, and was admired even by the likes of Jeff Dunham and David Copperfield. He wrote the obscene nursery rhymes that made Andrew Dice Clay a star. His crowd work with dummy George Dudley was so sharp and quick, no one ever gave a shit that his mouth moved. Otto & George was one of the funniest acts in the business; maybe even the funniest. Continue reading →

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Punch Drunk

One thing about myself I’m not proud of; I’ve been punched in the face a lot. Like, I actually don’t know how many times. I try to calculate it and things go hazy and red. I take this as an indication that I’ve been punched in the face too many times.

I’m not a boxer; I’m a skinny cartoonist with a big mouth, whom many observers assume suffers from Tourette’s Syndrome. I don’t consider my face “punchable”, but my jukebox of a head is apparently too tempting for froggy dudes to resist. Miraculously my nose has never been broken, but my back teeth bear the brunt of damage from more than a few fists.

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Don’t freak, this was years ago.

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Meat Loaf

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I remember thinking in 2004 that “his name is Robert Paulsen” might be too obscure for the punchline. In the mid-2000s, it felt like I was the only guy who was really into movies like Fight Club and Idiocracy. If that sounds absurd to you, let me remind you of the fact that George W. Fucking Bush was in office.  Continue reading →

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The Beatles

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If my anti-Star Wars rant alienated you, this’ll send you running for the safety of the Huffington Post: I fucking hate the Beatles.

Sharing the things you love with your children is a dangerous thing. Your passion becomes their default setting. While I was growing up, everyone, parents, teachers, counselors; EVERYONE ADORED THE BEATLES.

Everyone, of course, except me.

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Blues Traveler

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When did I ever have a Blues Traveler CD?

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Atlanta Is My Lady

You wanna know how to tell if a city is your home? When terrible things happen to you there, and it never occurs to you to leave. You don’t abandon your home. You stay and tough it out.

There was a night during my stay in Fulton County Jail where all of us were herded into the rec area, so that the guards could search the ward for contraband. Apparently some inmates had been smoking weed in their cell. Since that cell was mine, and one of the inmates was me, I spent my time in the rec room deep in contemplation. As time wore on no quicker than molasses, we all started to chat to break the tension.

The cement room was sweltering. The walls were nine feet high, rimmed with cyclone fencing. If I jumped vertically, I could catch a glimpse of the glimmering Atlanta skyline I missed so terribly. This was soothing. Some of the inmates I’d befriended took notice, and I eagerly explained myself. It was the first view of the city I’d had in a month.

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Billy Joel

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If you grew up in 1970s suburban New Jersey, as I did, you cannot judge Billy Joel or Bruce Springsteen objectively. It is analogous to Alabama’s relationship with Lynyrd Skynyrd. A recording artist encapsulates the zeitgeist of a time and place so perfectly, the music becomes inseparable from that region. You can’t criticize it; it’s too much a part of your identity.

Billy Joel may as well be my uncle. The man has penned tunes that I cannot distinguish from my own personal experiences. People mock and laugh at Billy’s foibles and shortcomings, and it never sinks in. The places and emotions he has brought to life are just too vivid for me. Continue reading →

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Jive Bunny & The Mastermixers

BUM BUM BUM BUM BOMM BOMM
NOW IT’S IN YOUR HEAD

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