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Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Comedy Show and Tell: the play-by-play

The first-ever Comedy Show & Tell this past Monday went fantastically, especially for being planned as an emergency measure to fill an empty spot at the bar. The idea has now graduated to full-time status and will take place every other Monday, alternating with the spelling bee.

Here is a picture of me this past Monday dressed like a seventies schoolteacher (vintage polyester!), in keeping with the show and tell theme:

Here's how it went, as best I can remember:

  • My show and tell item was a copy of Marie Claire magazine, featuring an article entitled "These 25 Men Want to Marry You!" At least one doesn't -- I dated him, and happen to know that he's busy using Nerve to set up threesomes (not with me). Go show and tell!
  • Comic Liz Miele (pictured at right) has "a great rack for a twelve-year old." A very funny comic.
  • The cowboy did some show and tell of his broken collarbone and the fake cab information he received at the scene of the accident.
  • Dan Allen did a long show and tell of I don't even remember what, but it was so long that by the time he started his set his time was nearly done, but he was very funny so I gave him another minute or two. He is also extremely tall.
  • Audience member Marc did some amazing show and tell -- he brought a mounted and backlit taxidermied Chinese hairy fish. Really.
  • Shawn Hollenbach is a twin with a secret to tell. A fantastic set from this Mintyfresh producer.
  • Al Wagner showed his baby's shrunken umbilical cord stump, in a jar, and did his set while we passed it around.
  • Megan showed us all a goofy sound-producing novelty item from her office, and Sarah showed us some rocks from the seashore, in true old-fashioned show and tell style.
  • Jesse Joyce commented that when most people say "gentleman," they don't really mean it. ("This gentleman is very upset that we have no vacancy, so he called me a vindictive whore, threatned to murder everyone in the building and then took a dump in the fountain." Manager: "Which gentleman? The gentleman who is currently giving me the finger and pressing his cock against the glass doors?")
  • Michelle Buteau (at right) showed up at the last minute and started shaking her booty at us early on into the set, which was a great start. Watch for her upcoming Premium Blend special on Comedy Central!

Whew! The next show will be Monday, September 12, 7:30, at Pete's! Save the date, and bring something to show!


So, I'm a member of this modeling website where wannabe-models often post questions like "I'm 5'2 and 35 years old -- do you think I could do high-fashion in Europe?" This particular discussion was about models with tattoos. I wrote:
I have a tattoo on my stomach and up over my left breast that is a picture of the nation of Armenia, with depictions of victims of famine and genocide. Over the bellybutton is a replica of a Purple Heart medal. Also, I like when models are so thin you can see their spines, so I had the outlines of my vertebra tattooed over my real vertebra up and down my back.

I also have a glass eye, but it's never been a problem -- the glass eye always points in one direction, so I just make sure to look the same direction in the photos. If the photographer's like "Look over here," I say, "Dude, it's the whole head or nothing. What, do you hate disabled people?"

Overall, girls, there really are a lot of models with tattoos, hunchbacks, major surgical scars, pattern baldness, dwarfism, and cerebral palsy. The only important thing is to FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS!


those Japanese....

I used to joke to my SAT students that if they all studied enough and their scores went way up, I would win a free toaster from the company, and I really need one, because all my bread is cold and floppy.

Normally, the kids laugh, but in this case, at least one gullible student believed it, so I continued, explaining that the toaster actually branded the company logo into the bread, so the swoosh under the company name would hold lovely rivulets of butter.

Finally, less gullible students clued in the more gullible ones, and we all had a laugh. At the end of the class, one of the students drew me a picture (which all the other students signed) of such a toaster, with logo-branded toast popping out of it.

And now, months later, a student emailed me with this photo:


Tuesday, August 30, 2005


Rachel Kramer Bussel runs an entire blog just about cupcakes. I haven't had a cupcake in maybe a decade, so I stopped and got one to see what the fuss was about. It wasn't really an erotic experience, but it was, in fact, strangely satisfying. I feel like I won't need to eat for a day or two.

There's something satisfying about a libertinous snack that still has built-in portion control. There's a quantum of cupcake.

This particular cupcake, obtained from a nearby East Harlem bakery, was likely a half-day old, and its frosting had hardened a bit, as if cake had decided to wear a helmet.

aw, nuts

Did you ever notice that when you eat almonds, the first few are so delicious, but then once you've eaten twenty, it's like you're eating trees? Your mouth gets dry and the little bits of almond skin stick to the roof of your mouth and then they're not good at all anymore. It's like you need to eat a stick of butter for lube.

Why are almonds so fucked up?

Swanson, $1.89, freezer aisle

The cowboy, usually an excellent cook, especially of Asian cuisine, has had to rely on frozen dinners due to his broken collarbone.

Frozen dinners can seem enticing when you're hungry, but then you sort of feel dirty after you've eaten. This is why bulimia exists. Sure, "French Women Don't Get Fat," but French women also don't purge; it is morally wrong to throw up decent French cooking. It's understandable to throw up a Hungry Man Meatloaf with Gravy Dinner.

This reminded me ... as a teenager in Virginia I babysat for a family that had an enormous standalone freezer in their living room, stocked with at least a hundred individually-wrapped frozen hamburgers, hotdogs, and tacos. Each night they'd let their kids pick one item, they'd nuke it, and that was it.

People in bomb shelters eat better than that. U.N. gruel is more nutritious.

This family also had a neon Budweiser sign in their living room.

Monday, August 29, 2005

update on the miraculous 24 hour comedy show

"24 hour" in the sense that that's how long I had to produce it, not in the sense of "we will tell jokes in marathon fashion, the way people used to sit on flagpoles."

The comics for tonight's Comedy Show and Tell are:
  • Shawn Hollenbach (Mintyfresh)
  • Al Wagner (NY Comedy Club)
  • Liz Miele (Comic Strip, Carolines, featured in the New Yorker)
  • Michelle Buteau (Premium Blend)
  • Dan Allen (Premium Blend)
  • Jesse Joyce (Entertainment Tonight, NY Underground Comedy Festival)
(Shawn gets his picture up here because he was the first person to confirm, making him sparkly and joyful to me).

Thanks to the inimitable Baron Vaughn for his casting assistance!

For information on attending, scroll down four inches! Come see why a photo gallery of men from Marie Claire magazine is my show and tell item! See you in 4.5 hours!

Update: I am dressed like a schoolteacher, circa 1979! (Without perm or feathered hairstyle. But I am wearing polyester, and it is fabulous).

Tonight in Brooklyn - Comedy Show & Tell

There's a fantastic event tonight at Pete's! Why didn't I post about it earlier? Well, Pete's Candy Store generally hosts a poetry series on alternate Mondays, but the poetry hosts cancelled at the last minute. So, I stepped in and, plagued with an excess of enthusiasm, I offered to produce a comedy show in under twenty-four hours. And it is no ordinary comedy show! I hope to see you there.

"Comedy Show & Tell" at Pete's Candy Store

TONIGHT, Monday, August 29
Pete's Candy Store, 709 Lorimer St. in Williamsburg

Comedy Show & Tell mixes performances by top young comedians with old-fashioned Show & Tell, just like back in grade school. Bring a favorite item with you to this free show -- several audience members will be selected for show & tell!

it takes a lot to thrill such a jaded person...

For one glorious span of wee-morning hours, my blog was ranked first:

(Check the actual box in the righthand sidebar to see current rank, most likely fallen from its former position of complete and total domination).

"I can't believe you old people these days, with your crazy prescription drugs and your pants all up to your ribs."

Today I attended a seminar on comedy roadwork (as in, how to get booked at the Chuckle Shack in Butte, Montana). One panelist mentioned that, along with booking firehouses (which actually sound like fun), he also has booked nursing home shows.

I generally imagine nursing home entertainers to be at least middle-aged, so as to have more in common with the audience, but, upon further reflection, I think many nursing home residents would be delighted to see some twentysomething comedians -- it's like having the grandkids come visit, except these ones are more interesting and better looking, and besides, the real ones never come visit anyway.

Better yet, I think perhaps the Jenny Vaudeville Show needs to make a nursing home appearance! I am certain that there's some ninety-year old out there who is going to wet his damn slacks at the sight of chipper young people doing vaudeville.

Saturday, August 27, 2005

Come sit on my axis of evil, baby. Once we are lawfully wedded.

Just after posting Cintra Wilson's comments about young Republicans ("prematurely wide and matronly young women with obsolete cheerleader features dressed like Lady Bird Johnson"), I discovered -- via an ad on Ann Coulter's website --, a dating service for Republicans.

Here is a quote from their "success stories":
i found the most wondful person i could ever meet thank you

If only liberals could meet wondful people as well!

I can only imagine the profile questions:

Repealing estate taxes is sexy; war in Iraq is sexier.


I feel I must address this men are cleverer than women business, as reported by the BBC:
A study to be published later this year in the British Journal of Psychology says that men are on average five points ahead on IQ tests.

...The study showed that, up to the age of 14, there was no difference between the IQs of boys and girls.

"But beyond that age and into adulthood there is a difference of five points, which is small but it can have important implications."
When I first heard about this, I wrote the following reply (to my college alumni list):
The first IQ test, designed for French schoolchildren, was immediately redesigned when it gave erroneous results -- the girls scored higher. After some adjustment, that was no longer the case, and the test was judged to be valid.

If you've seen an IQ test lately, you might have been expecting some magic diagnostic tool to actually tell you how smart people are -- instead, it's like an SAT with some spatial puzzles added. It is, quite frankly, pretty dumb looking.

It is not surprising to me that men perform better on a test designed by men, but that's kind of a facile point. I think an even better one is that men's and women's brains are different, and -- just taking into account the differences that are verifiable in neuroscience -- I think it's a quite reasonable hypothesis that some of the things men excel at are easier to test in standardized-test form.

For instance, I think one of the least controversial gender differences is that men have a better sense of direction (sure, some of that is from social conditioning and practice, but much of it is because men process directions in the hypothalamus, a "primitive" part of the brain that interprets directions literally -- that is, electrical impulses within it actually work in a compass-like way, whereas women process directions in the cerebral cortex, along with everything else, which is why many women use landmarks and such to navigate).

Women, however, have a much better ability to read people's body language. This is useful in "relationships," yes, but also in diplomacy, corporate management, spying, etc.

Which is more valuable? Depends on what you're doing. Which is easier to test? Probably spatial abilities. There do exist tests wherein the subject is asked to guess the moods of people pictured in photos, but that's a poor substitute for real-life interaction (or at least video), and, more to the point, such a skill is not tested on an IQ test at all.

Originally, the IQ test was designed to test the potential of children, like a school-placement exam. It is unclear what value exists in giving the test to adults, whose "potential" is by and large already played out.

(Additionally, the test is enough like an SAT that I could teach nearly anyone to raise their 'IQ' by a substantial number of points. No magic there).
Amusingly, Feministing just made a quite similar point: "When I used to teach SAT classes for The Princeton Review, the biggest lesson was to make sure kids knew that the only thing the SAT measured was how well you took the SAT." (I had no idea a popular feminist blogger was a former Princeton Review teacher).

However, Lakshmi Chaudhry of The L-Files has rather scooped the whole thing, pointing out that Richard Lynn, the "researcher" behind this whole "men are cleverer" thing, is a known eugenicist. You can follow the link if you want to read about "phasing out" cultures that are "incompetent."

I'll also add here: a male friend of mine suggested that men are "cleverer" for getting everyone to believe that men are cleverer for all these years. Cute.

A reader comment on the BBC site asked "Have these researchers looked at IQ levels below the average, at gender differentials among prison inmates?" The reader seems to be suggesting that, in contrast to the researchers' claim that for every female genius, there are 5.5 male geniuses, that perhaps the dumbest men are dumber than the dumbest women -- that is, that men are more widely spread out over the IQ spectrum, whereas women are clustered in a place of rarer brilliance but greater general competence. Interesting. (But again, I would apply all my previous arguments regarding the nature of the IQ test itself).

As a concluding thought, I'd like to note that when "The Bell Curve" came out, the book was roundly denounced as racist propaganda for suggesting that races differ in intelligence. However, when researchers report than men are smarter than women, the BBC reports it like it's cute.

Aww, look at those little ladies trying to defend their intelligence -- when all they have to do it with is ... their intelligence! Whatsamatter, darlin', can't handle a little tautology?

Update: Apparently the BBC reported the exact opposite claim in December 2004.

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word of the day

Cintra Wilson in Salon again:
It seemed somehow related to the Roberts nomination that there was an extra helping of snappy young Republicans humming around the White House on the 20th -- prematurely wide and matronly young women with obsolete cheerleader features dressed like Lady Bird Johnson, with tightly twisted hair and $2,000 handbags, and 20-something guys with that roundheaded military eunuch look: plastic wraparound sunglasses and boxy, off-the-rack navy-blue suits with the periwinkle-blue shirts that have become the uniform of the GOP Youth. The guys have a restless, jacked-up machismo that probably comes of venting the frustrations of abstinence in Krav Maga class, and a thumping sense of the authority and entitlement that comes with belonging to the winning team, which they call "The Party." Superclean motherfuckers -- an abrasive, stinging kind of clean, like they all just got shaken out of an icy tumbler full of Pine Sol, pumice and the New Testament.
This reminds me of a vocabulary lesson I taught a couple of weeks ago in which I explained the meaning of the word "excoriate" -- one of those great words that's usually used metaphorically, but has a literal meaning (like perhaps "lukewarm"). To "excoriate" someone is to criticize them harshly, but the literal meaning of the word is "to tear or wear off the skin of; abrade." Like, when you drag someone behind your car in a lynching, or take a cheese grater to their skin. Excoriate.

Thank you, Cintra.

the missing link

The cowboy is quite an expert on the nation of Laos, and yesterday he recounted a charming incident from a book he is reading. A Lao man came to America and was baffled by all the things he saw -- buildings, highways, etc. He couldn't wrap his mind around it -- until someone took him on a trip to Colonial Williamsburg. He saw the iron plows and the wells and the farms, and suddenly, it all made sense; that's how you get from there to here.

"the press succumbed en masse to ... the deranged, unconscious complicity that is found in victims of ritual abuse"


Cintra Wilson of Salon invaded the White House press corps and had this to say about the Orwellian newspeak proferred by White House press secretary Scott McClellan:'s easy to sound smarter and more worthy of love than your adversary when you are using the spontaneous, active language centers of your brain to communicate, as opposed to being limited to doling out cold sound bites from an undersize professional memory thermos.

Friday, August 26, 2005

gratuitous link to gratuitously cute website


There, now I've done it.

Yes, I am now going to attempt to take a picture of my cat in the sink.

Update: Cow is not amused. She has thoroughly rejected the sink and been placated with some smelly shrimp cat food.


I always wanted to operate a popular grammar blog

I explained the semicolon while teaching class today, and then, strangely, I came home to a missive from my mother, also inquiring about the semicolon. For the benefit of all, this is my quick and dirty explanation of the semicolon:
Use a semicolon when you are combining two complete clauses and you don't want to have to say "and." So basically, use a semicolon instead of a comma with an 'and.'

Both of these sentences are correct:

I like Bill, and we are going to the prom.

I like Bill; we are going to the prom.

(See how "I like Bill" and "we are going to the prom" are complete clauses? Yay!)

But I CANNOT say:

If I like Bill; we will go to the prom.

(That one's no good because "If I like Bill" isn't a complete clause!)

I have now explained semicolons; you can use them whenever you like! In a paragraph, a semicolon can add variety to your writing; many writing experts consider this a plus. However, the overuse of semicolons can seem forced; this is bad.

It is even possible (although quite unusual) to use two semicolons in one sentence! For instance:

Some people learn how to use semicolons in high school; others learn from grammar books; a few learn from their adult daughters.
p.s. My mom is smart; she has been articulate for many years without the need of semicolons.

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from my mom

I like Baron Vaughn's joke. Tell him transparency runs in your mother's side of the family. I'm really invisible.

class issues and the Dartmouth Alumni Magazine

When a reminiscing alumnus uses the words "coxswain" and "regatta" in the same sentence, I still positively giggle, as if the speaker had instead declaimed "Here, darling, we bathe only in champagne."

Also see previous post on this topic.

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if only we had enough newsprint on which to print actual premises and conclusions!

Readers have long lamented the loss of depth in newspaper stories. And while the Times, for the most part, hangs on, directing us to page A21 for a recap of all the Kurdish history we missed, at least little mini-papers like am New York (at which I love to poke fun) don't pretend to be more than they are -- free summaries of the content of a real newspaper.

This article in USA Today -- A neo-feminist's view of abstinence -- is about one-third the length it would need to be to properly make its point. For starters, what does the author mean by "neo-feminist"? Perhaps it would be useful to address existing literature on this subject (Shalit, Crittenden, and their numerous detractors). Overall, though, the article just seems to have been cut off in the middle, or edited down from a "neo-feminist" pronouncement to a facile re-statement of views already held by readers of USA Today.

Also, I object to the phrase "the sheer prolificness of sex." What the writer meant was something about the ubiquity of sex; what she ended up saying was something more like "can you believe everyone is breeding like rabbits?" which was not the intention at all.

federal development agency liability

We can now sue over global warming! Neat. I'll mail in pictures of my sunburns, if that helps.

Baron Vaughn had a joke that if he and I had kids, they'd be half-black, half-transparent.

Thursday, August 25, 2005

social dynamics and the $1 Room

Sometimes people say to me "I know I've seen you somewhere" and then I, to no avail, mention a couple of places and people we might have in common, and then I finally say, "Well, I have this website, jenisfamousdotcom?" and they say "Yes! That's it!"

It just occurred to me that maybe the ones who are hitting on me are lying about that.

Apparently I have molasses flowing through my synapses. Cold molasses.

In any case, I went to a comedy show tonight (The $1 Room) and had the unique experience of sitting in the front row and getting picked on. Yes, I'm sleepy, yes, it's cold in here, true, I am not laughing at this very moment because you are picking on me rather than telling a joke, no, I am not in a mime troupe.

I got hit on (in a nice, pleasant, flattering way) after the show by one of the other attendees, and it occurred to me that the reason it's gross to have men catcall you on the street, but nice to get actually asked out by a stranger, is that the guy who's asking you out is actually looking for your approval in some way and putting himself on the line, in a way that the catcalling man is not.

Interestingly, this can even carry over into strange men who ask you out, but in a way that is more like catcalling, and gross rather than flattering; i.e., the guy who tries to hold your hand at the bus stop and ask for your number, rebuffing your refusals with "Why you gotta be like that?"

In conclusion, the thing that makes it nice and flattering to get asked out is that the man is in some actual fear of rejection. Not that I'm having a schadenfreude response or anything. I am definitely a member of the club that is nice to guys who ask women out in a decent way.

Incidentally, I did have someone at the spelling bee quote one of my jokes from this blog back to me, which was very flattering (and not, as far as I could tell, part of anyone hitting on anyone).

somebody get me that wine that comes in the jug

In case anyone is wondering where all the funny is, my next comedy show is Chicks and Giggles on the 6th. The next Jenny Vaudeville show is 10pm, Wednesday, September 14.

If you want more immediate funny, you will have to scour my blog for previous examples thereof, or wait until my brain starts producing serotonin again.

outsourcing one's social life

I once had an appointment with a matchmaking service and got on their list o'ladies. I went on two ill-fated dates with older gentlemen, and then, next time I got a phone call, I said I was seeing someone.

It's been months, but I just got another call today; the matchmaker had someone that she thought would be great for me. (But not as great as a cowboy).

It's funny, I have someone who checks up to see whether I'm single. My own parents don't even pay that much attention.

the soldier and the kitten

On 8/15, I this posted a photo of, supposedly, a US solider in Iraq petting a kitten.

I subsequently received an email from ex-Marine (and, in an unrelated incident, ex-potential-boyfriend) M.U., who expatiates:
This might not be of any interest to you whatsoever, but while catching up on your blog, I couldn't help but see the soldier petting the kitten and wonder if it isn't doctored. Not that we combat vets don't love kittens, because they sure are adorable. No, it's because I don't think that soldier is anywhere near Iraq. Although PFC John Doe has what appears to be an up-to-date military version of the AR-15 assault rifle (whether it's the M-4, M-16A2, or M-16A4 I don't know because it's tricked out with all sorts of crap I never had), his uniform is suspect.
  1. Notice the shiny brown shoes. Today's American troops wear rough-side-out leather boots (called, appropriately enough, "desert boots") because sandy regions SUCK for preserving a shine on leather.

  2. Nice green uniform, Joe. Where'd you get it, Vietnam? Tell me, when was the last time you saw a picture of an American deployed to Iraq not wearing some sort of desert camouflage? The same thing goes for his sun-faded forest-pattern helmet cover.

  3. Also -- and this is the most heinous crime of all -- the vast right-wing conspiracy has obviously not included the other photos in this series, where the soldier picks the kitten up by the scruff of the neck and then bites its head off. They're monsters, I tell you.
So, there's one more maudlin email forward debunked!

Regarding desert camouflage...

If you wouldn't send a solider to Iraq in forest greens, why are the National Guardsmen wearing this same uniform in the subway? A person is more likely to run into a patch of trees in Baghdad than on the NRW platform. What, exactly, do the soldiers think they are blending in with?

Since the National Guard has been appearing periodically in the subway for four years now (since 9/11), I think it's time to get them some proper uniforms! I want to see National Guardsmen in subway camo -- a dull gray background covered in pictures of trains*, with illustrations of rats down near the ankles**. They would blend right in!

* Like a five-year-old's pajamas!

** Not like a five-year-old's pajamas.


Wednesday, August 24, 2005

"do not bother me with your bourgeois gasoline woes whilst I am drinking my macchiato"

The (much recovered) cowboy pointed me towards this article in the Times Magazine about the impending oil shortage:
If consumption begins to exceed production by even a small amount, the price of a barrel of oil could soar to triple-digit levels. This, in turn, could bring on a global recession, a result of exorbitant prices for transport fuels and for products that rely on petrochemicals -- which is to say, almost every product on the market. The impact on the American way of life would be profound: cars cannot be propelled by roof-borne windmills. The suburban and exurban lifestyles, hinged to two-car families and constant trips to work, school and Wal-Mart, might become unaffordable or, if gas rationing is imposed, impossible.
Many New Yorkers are smug about such things; if there's no more oil, I guess Peoria and Denver and Duluth will just have to build subways!

I am reminded of a recent New York Magazine article about New Yorkers' opposition to a Wal-Mart in Rego Park -- some of it was ligitimate opposition from the grocery workers' union, or from activists, but much of it was urban snobbery. (I am certainly not immune to such snobbery, and would be embarassed by the presence of a Waltonesque monstrosity in my town; however, I balance my personal distaste of tacky things with the right of less well-off people to buy cheap cornflakes and parkas).

In any case, while the prospect of SUVs becoming too expensive to operate may delight many urban dwellers, worldwide recession is considerably less charming.

On an interesting engineering note, the article also pointed out (regarding the unfortunate fact that the Saudis have no obligation to tell anyone in any verifiable sense how much oil they actually have) that "the popular notion of [oil] reservoirs as underground lakes, from which wells extract oil like straws sucking a milkshake from a glass, is incorrect. Oil exists in drops between and inside porous rocks."

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Monday, August 22, 2005

from the frontier of live blogging

Miss Megan Rudesill just (as in, just now, as of 9:24pm) live-blogged the Williamsburg Spelling Bee on the Williamsburg Spelling Blog.

Newcomer Josh Melamy took the win with some damned impressive spelling, including tongawalla, lamasery, punctiliar, and likely some more impressive words I've forgotten.

Megan herself won third place again, which I suspect she's doing on purpose in order to win sandwiches rather than bar tab.

There will be no bee on Labor Day, so our next bee -- coincidentally, our one-year anniversary bee -- will be Monday, September 19, 7pm, Pete's Candy Store.


My friend Kim has written this from Tibet:
The temples are very elaborate and we have taken lots of pictures. The saddest visit was to Norbulingka, which was the Dalai Lama's summer home/palace. This is where he went the night before he escaped into exile in India in 1959. He and his followers walked in winter over the treacherous Himalayan mountain passes. This is what many Tibetans do today when they want to try for a better life in India or Nepal. We met several people who recounted these journeys to us. They had to carry yak butter and a barley (like kasha) called "tsampa." Along the way, they'd mix the barley with the butter and eat it. The butter helps the body stay warm. These travelers also would find sympathetic villagers and offer them some butter to make "butter tea," which Tibetans drink constantly. To me, it tastes like popcorn soup. But this is what Tibetans rely on to stay warm in such high altitudes.

Anyway, Norbulingka, was incredibly sad. Many Tibetans go there and cry, thinking about the exiled Dalai Lama, their spritual and political leader. Meanwhile, the Chinese government has made it into a sort of museum, where they charge quite a fee for entry. Outside the palace, on the gardened grounds, there was the annual, traditional yogurt festival, and guess who was one of the sponsors?? Budweiser beer. So there were Budweiser posters everywhere with pictures of half naked models all over the grounds of the Dalai Lama's summer palace.

how would I EVER have known such a thing without the AP?

Folk Singer Supports Anti-War Protesters

You don't say? How about "Quakers Support Anti-War Protestors"? Or "Solider of Fortune Readers Support War (Any War Will Do)"?

hamster butt. do you even need a picture?

I went looking for a picture of a butt to add to this post, and found this in addition:

...and I love it very much.

It was created by Natalie Dee, whom I now find very funny. Along with posting new drawings every day, she writes an advice column in which, for instance, in answer to someone's question about whether their pubic hair was normal, she writes:
"If it bugs you out that bad, just wax the whole thing. There will be nothing left to worry about, and you will seem fancier. You should have been able to solve this yourself."
More advice columns should berate people for writing in to advice columns about their piddly-ass problems in the first place.

And also, because Natalie said her in FAQ that I could post her drawings if I link to her site (which I have now done four five times in this post) and I do not decorate my website with her drawings exclusively, here's another one:

I've been behind on the blogging, but soon I shall become too prolix for words, if such a thing were possible

The spelling bee is tonight, 7pm, in Williamsburg.

Thanks to everyone (Savvy!) for comments on bicycle accidents, sexy nurse outfits, etc.

The next issue of the Shout-Out will feature several free shows to which I would love to invite you all.

modeling opportunities for the non-risk-averse

To enter the Miss High Times contest, send photos of yourself "smoking or posing with weed." You can click the fine print for "rules," which specify that the contestant must be at least 18 and not nude, but which say nothing about, you know, marijuana laws.

It would be great if there were also a "Miss Homebuilt Nuclear Warhead" in, you know, Uranium Enthusiasts Quarterly.

Better yet, I'll bet you could get tons of entries for "Miss Mall-Shoplifting Hussy." Trashy suburban teenagers would send in pictures of themselves posing with all the merch they swiped from Hot Topic. Then you could mail the pictures back to their parents ;-)

Update: In China? Enter the Mongolian Cow Sour Yoghurt Supergirl Contest.

my friends being funnier than I am (again)

(See previous entry).
"It just feels like my whole life will have to be some grim Tom Waits song. I guess 'grim' is kind of a redundancy there."
- M.

Saturday, August 20, 2005

open letter to the guy on 9th Avenue in midtown yesterday evening who felt the need to open his car door in the middle of traffic

Dear asshole fratboy on 9th Avenue in midtown yesterday who felt the need to open his car door in the middle of traffic,
That guy on the bike who you hit? That was my cowboy.

You are an asshole who clearly felt that your need to get out of your cab before the next stoplight was so incredibly pressing that you'd just endanger an entire block full of moving traffic. You know how drivers have rearview mirrors and passengers don't? There's a reason.

You know how you hung around until the ambulance came and then took off before the police could get your information? Good job avoiding responsibility!

Enjoy feeling bad for the rest of your life!

If there is such a thing as karma and reincarnation, perhaps you will come back next time as a disembodied asshole, hopping around on the pavement, avoiding getting stepped on, waiting for the next life in which you might be lucky enough to come back as the whole ass.

Everybody else: Sorry for being behind on my email, but go ahead and keep sending it. The cowboy has a broken collarbone and will recover. Does anyone know where I can get a sexy nurse costume?


Friday, August 19, 2005

regarding this previous night's comedy show

My bit about the Campaign for Real Beauty went well tonight. (Sure, they're "real women" -- but they're hawking cellulite cream! It would be like if we ran a campaign of homeless people smiling and called it the Campaign for Real Teeth ... but in the corner, there was a logo for Crest whitestrips. The message is "love yourself ... just not completely").

I started telling my pigeon joke and Syd started laughing in advance of the punchline. "That's my freebird!" I said, which cracked him up unexpectedly.

Overall, though, the show was overbooked (far too many comics, such that the audience dwindled by more than half over the course of the show), and I am taking a bit of a hiatus from the dank fraternity basements of the comedy club world. Stay tuned for more shows which I will produce myself.

A big thanks to Louise, Tom, and Syd!

Thursday, August 18, 2005

one can only wonder

Hmmn. How interesting....


my maniacal laughter will haunt you in your sleep

My plan to take over the world (one abortion joke at a time) is going marvellously.

I will be blogging as a guest editor for Fleshbot (the "Gawker" of porn), start date TBA!

I have reviewed the "Inflatable Bondage Chair" on the Sarcastic Sex Toy Blog. Stay tuned for a party in NYC ... with party favors!

I did a show at The Social last night, debuting some new material about anorexia ("anorexics are just hunger strikers who are better-looking").

I have also written an article encouraging anorexics to donate the money they save on food towards famine in Niger. (Hate me if you want, but that's a socially conscious eating disorder!)

Come to the show tonight if you're in NYC -- New York Comedy Club, E 24th bet. 2nd/3rd, 9pm sharp.

rum, sodomy, and the lash

This guy makes comic strips by sticking stickers (in this case, pirates) on notebook paper and writing captions for the stickers.

recent quotes from people I know

"Because, of course, you have to pitch 'Sensitivity Training' to men as 'Psychological Know-How'."
- my ex-boyfriend from high school

"Your writing about your Mom reminds me horribly of Inspector Columbo who always refers to his wife although you never see her. I find this really cute."
- some guy named Mike

"I bet I could spend $8,000 on you and have a baby for free!"
- my Russian friend, upon reading my article about egg donation

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

no cigar

I just did a tourist show at the Improv. The emcee asked what he should say to introduce me -- generally one gives a sentence or two, or if one has no particular merits to extol, one says something like "Eh, clubs and colleges," which transmutes to "Jennifer Dziura is a very funny comic; she performs at clubs and colleges all over the country!"

In this case, I said "I can be seen on VH-1's Crushed Out in the fall and at jen is famous dot com." Cool, said the emcee, and repeated it back to me.

He walked up on stage and said "Our next comic can be seen on Crashed Out and at jen is funny dot com."


This was also my first real show with kids in the audience. Strangely, they don't laugh at gangbang jokes!

Little weirdos.

Shout Out #2 - all my eggs in one basket

The Shout-Out, my email newsletter with exclusive downloads and jokes, goes out today.

This issue contains the story of my selling my eggs to a wealthy gay man. (All true! It's better than having a temp job!)

the four-piece ... I'm not really going to repeat it here

There's a new review up on the Sarcastic Sex Toy Blog.

Incidentally, my mother told me on the phone that she had been afraid to click on the link to the Sarcastic Sex Toy Blog because she was under the impression that I was trying the sex toys myself, which is not unreasonable assumption for a sex toy review website.

In this case, however, personal use is completely unnecessary (and in many cases, anatomically impossible for a woman) for the sort of mocking going on here.

good morning

Yesterday I ate nothing but figs and a Wendy's cheeseburger, which is an interesting juxtaposition of classy, Biblical food and socially denigrated, non-Biblical food.

I went to get some McDonald's coffee just now and noticed that the store around the corner is selling acid-washed denim jean skirts two for a dollar. You could outfit an entire cheerleading squad, circa 1988, (assuming they're all a bit fat) for under ten bucks!

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

I own a number of domain names myself (most recently,, but just now learned that there is now a .eu suffix for the European Union.

(Just as, for example, Japan has .jp and Tonga has .to, about which I have previously blogged).

This prompted me to look up the first domain name I thought of to see if it is available, and it is:
You might also try registering "".

oh look, is that related to your mom?

This morning's am New York featured a picture of the "World's Ugliest Dog" and his owner. It really looked like the woman was holding up a (quite) dead dog, like one that had been smoked ... into jerky.

I googled this whole business and discovered that Sam the dog has a
website, and the website is selling t-shirts.

The LA Times turned the story sort of bestial:
Susie Lockheed, 53, enjoys massaging Sam's fleshy, thin, potato-chip ears and ... kissing Sam's hairless frame, littered with blackheads, brown warts and moles. Even his hindquarters have a large hernia lump....

"I've never had a dog this much in love with me," Lockheed said.
I had just written "This is a woman who looks great but will never have a date again" when I read down to the bit about her fiance. They met on when she posted a profile photo of herself and the dog and he replied "What is that?"

The article also contains the priceless comment "Lockheed brags that Sam has received far more fame than she ever had while starring in community musicals."

Maybe if they'd been the world's UGLIEST community musicals.

where were you raised, on the 7 train platform?

In trashy news of the week (much like the "Fuck the World" tattoo I spotted and photographed on the 6 train), a couple is getting married at McDonald's. Because, of course, that's where they met.

Allow me to play Miss Manners for a moment.

If you meet someone special while, say, buying hemorrhoid cream at Duane Reade, you must rent a hall for your wedding, just like everyone else, you must never mention hemorrhoid cream for the remainder of your married life, and you must tell people you met while buying Fair Trade certified organic beans at your local independent coffee shop.

You may not, under any circumstances, marry at Duane Reade, or offer hemorrhoid-themed wedding favors to guests.

Thank you.

abortion humor

Apparently, Supreme Court nominee John Roberts has called equal pay for women "radical," has supported school prayer, and has supported memorial services for aborted fetuses.

He's been a good source of jokes. I'd been running with:
"With John Roberts on the Supreme Court, abortion might become illegal soon. I'm not worried, though. There are a lot of other options, like the morning-after punch in the stomach."
Later at a show, I added on a bit about taking some RU480-proof, but very few people got that. (RU486 is the home-abortion drug, available only by prescription. Eighty-proof alcohol might not be quite strong enough to induce abortion, but it might get the kid some awesome learning disabilities!)

Monday, August 15, 2005

the actual news

I have reviewed the Fist of Adonis (oh, it's exactly what it sounds like) on the Sarcastic Sex Toy Blog.

Update: I'm on Fleshbot! Welcome!
You can listen to comedy samples here

You can see me at New York Comedy Club this Thursday night!

I will be doing some new material, and I will hook you up with a free Peeps shirt if you haven't gotten yours already (please RSVP and I'll make sure to bring one in your size).

Jen at New York Comedy Club
Thursday, August 18

9pm (arrive 8:40 for seating)
241 E 24th between 2nd and 3rd Aves.
$10/2 drink minimum


I've been signing into guest registers in office buildings with my Vietnamese name, Phuc Yu.

I am such a malcontent.

clean toes

I don't normally bother to read the Times' wedding announcements, which tend to put an excessive emphasis on the resumés of the participants, some good number of whom are generally employed in finance. Hey, look, thirty-five year olds from Goldman Sachs are getting married, and they all have houses in Nantucket.

The photo for the wedding of Pia Awal and Tim Dutta caught my eye, though; the picture was of a Hindu ceremony. Things got weird very fast:
They had a lot in common. Both grew up in Hindu families - Mr. Dutta in New Jersey, Ms. Awal in Manhattan - and both believed in destiny, karma, reincarnation and in judging people by the condition of their feet. "My aunt always said, 'A woman with clean toes is a woman who's well-rounded, well-mannered and well-presented,'" he said.
Then, Ms. Awal gets leukemia. In the end of the article, the bride says that in a previous life, she and her new husband were "cats who knew each other."

I think it would be great if people had to be interesting, rather than blue-blooded, to get their announcements in the Times. We'd see more "the bride wore neon and the guests danced to a punk klezmer band."

Ann Coulter could write an exposé about how liberals hate not only freedom and truth, but kittens

I have now received several copies of this spam/email forward entitled "the pictures no one sees," featuring professional-looking photos of US soliders in a prayer circle, happily playing with Iraqi kids, and in one case, petting a kitty.

I guess this means the war is awesome.

Seriously, when this picture doesn't make the news, that is PROOF of entrenched liberal bias in the media!

no one ever refers to women as "virile"

Some of my interest in the below topic may be related to my current endeavor of selling my eggs to a wealthy gay man in California, which is, all in all, a rather defiant act of fertility on everyone's part -- me for being an educated woman in any way involved in procreating in my mid-twenties, him for being gay and spending a great deal of money on the process, and the surrogate for (although the paperwork dances around it) selling her bodily services and thus putting a commercial value on work that women have heretofore done for free.

People have asked me whether I worry about my genes being "out there." My reply -- a very instinctive one -- has always been that I stand by my genes, and the more of them out there the better. This guy's going to get a baby one way or another, so it might as well have some Jen in it.

This is the same kind of view that motivates (whether consciously or merely biologically) the young men who have spent time "sowing their oats" since time immemorial, and count their babymamas with a sort of virile pride. I see no reason I shouldn't have the same impulse; until now, it has simply been impossible to physically carry out (and even now, it is, of course, substantially more difficult, but I get paid, instead of owing child support).

If I could impregnate men and make them walk around all swollen up with little Jen-babies ... I might have been doing it for years. Survival of the fittest, indeed.


considerations on welfare statism and fertility-friendly policymaking

In reference to my previous post about Sweden, this article in The Public Interest evaluates the effects of so-called "family friendly" policies, such as "free" day care.

The conclusion is that "free" day care is, of course, paid for upfront in the form of taxes, making its use near-mandatory, as people paying 35-50% tax rates become less able to afford not to use day care. The overall effect is that, to provide free day care, a nation makes it economically necessary for women with young children to work -- and most job growth is in administering the welfare state itself, and most child care jobs are held by women, so the end result is economically compelling women to leave their own childen to care for other people's children.

Of course, the talented ones can use the system to pursue employment as hockey players or lawyers or cabaret singers. But it's not clear that the segment most able to take care of themselves is the segment for whom taxation policies should be designed.

One interesting point is that, while the (now defunct) Public Interest is a conservative publication, this article ends up suggesting rather progressive policy alternatives such as Social Security credits for stay-at-home parenting, and a sort of "GI Bill" for stay-at-home parents (providing tuition credits for later education and job training), who sacrifice career advancement in order to raise children, in a move somewhat analagous to soliders who sacrificed career advancement to defend the nation.

Of course, that leads me to raise the question of whether these benefits would apply to someone who stayed home to raise their children on welfare -- are we to reward them by paying for their education? (If I balk at this, I think it makes me more fiscally conservative than TPI, which makes me itch). Of course, the thought of paying taxes towards such a thing makes working people indignant, but I think most things that would significantly ameliorate poverty and crime (like rehabiliation, college classes, and family visits for prisoners) make working people indignant.

If it would be the case that a GI Bill for parents could be "stacked" with other benefits -- a weekly check just for breeding, plus a free or reduced-cost grad degree? -- well, sign me up. Sperm donors aren't that hard to come by.

Of course, views on subsidizing (or, in some views, fairly compensating) parenting activities are strongly informed by whether one thinks the world needs more people in it. And while I used to be rather smug (like, when I was a high school debater, many of whom are quite smug in general) about how the world is overpopulated and anyone who chooses to have children is using valuable resources, the US is currently only replacing its population through immigration and the high birthrates of first-generation immigrants. Japan is suffering serious economic consequences from its below-replacement birthrate. And there is also the argument that people are going to keep making babies no matter what you do, so maybe the point is quality rather than quantity; measures that alleviate poverty and make those inevitable children more likely to be productive taxpayers and less likely to be criminals are in the public interest and possibly could be cost-effective, regardless of whether one holds the pronatalist view that children are a good in themselves.

This post has no punchline whatsoever. Feel free to reply in the comments.

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Sunday, August 14, 2005

what happens to a dream deferred?

When I was in junior high, I would fantasize about noble things, such as winning debating championships, but I would also fantasize about somehow coming up with the princely sum of seventy-five dollars of my very own, and then securing my mother's permission to spend it on a spiral perm at the salon inside JC Penney at the mall, so my hair would be Much, Much Larger.

I also fantasized about having braces (well, about having had braces, as I hadn't even had them on yet, and what I really wanted was straight teeth, not the braces themselves), about replacing my big plastic glasses with contact lenses, about being allowed to wear patent-leather pumps to school, and about owning a big-shouldered suit which I would wear with a giant metal belt, all of which would make my hypothetical surfer boyfriend love me.

I think what I really wanted was to look pretty much just like this:

photo by Aeric Meredith-Goujon

And now, I can.

I am so rad.


the article mentions a concert entitled "Seder-Matzochism"

Soce the Elemental Wizard is a gay, white, Jewish rapper with whom I have performed at a couple of variety shows. He has been getting mad press lately -- first, there was an an article in the New York Press, and today he had a link on Gawker.

I'm not sure if he's still doing the wizard thing -- one article cited him as "Soce the Elemental Rapper" -- but I once saw him come on stage in a full wizard costume, complete with pointy hat decorated with moons and stars, and launch into a song that began:

I grew up in the meadow / that's different from the ghetto

Soce can also 1) freestyle like a motherfucker, and 2) rap over classical music.

Here's his sort of signature song, the acoustic version. He's just freaking fantastic.


It is extremely satisfying to discover a cockroach hideout, smoke out the roaches with a dust that breaks down their exoskeletons, and then vacuum them up as they try to escape.

A girl's gotta have a hobby.

I still like men to lift heavy things for me. I am completely incapable of putting air conditioning units into windows and removing them at the end of the summer.

However, bug killing strikes me more as fine-detail work, and I excel at that. It's like arts & crafts!

fashion weirdo (like the chicks who wear high heels with their underwear in the Victoria's Secret catalog)

This is me as a fashion weirdo. You know how you never see anyone in real life wearing, for instance, lots of makeup and a big furry winter hat with ear flaps? It's just a strangely recurring fashion meme. Just like the "lady who's wearing a hoodie but clearly not ready for winter."

by Aeric Meredith-Goujon


Saturday, August 13, 2005

sparkle pegasus glitter magic fun forever!

You can scroll down for commentary on Swedish socialism, the work of Ayn Rand, marital longevity, and many other topics. Or, you can visit the Sarcastic Sex Toy Store to read about vibrators and unicorns.

how to have a long and happy marriage

A French couple celebrated their 81st anniversary!

Hmmn. It might be good to marry someone with propitious prospects for living a long time. For instance, shorter people tend to live longer. Also, Japanese women have the longest lifespans of anyone (and, concomitantly, they tend to be not particularly tall), but since that is presumably due to a combination of genetic and cultural factors, the effect is almost certainly diminished for Japanese-American women. So, marrying a Japanese woman in Japan (and not tampering with her diet by introducing, say, bacon sushi) might be a way to nab a long-lived partner.

There are also people who restrict their caloric intake to 800 calories a day, based on research that shows that rats live longer when deprived of calories, but none of them have been doing it long enough for anyone to see if they live longer. And who wants to be married to a sprout-eating weirdo anyway?

You could try marrying a short person, feeding them more sushi, and rescuing them from being hit by buses.

and a government-sponsored Klippan sofa for every family

Among liberal people I know (i.e., Brooklynite hipster-socialists), Sweden is often held up as this sort of mysterious, utopian model of "the way things should be."

But no one I know actually seems to know all that much about it. Something like "they all have health care and women's rights -- plus IKEA!" And then I think the mystique grows ... there's no murder ... they all speak five languages ... the meatballs grow on trees ... etc. So, I've had this idea to go to Sweden with the cowboy and write a book.

I've looked up some rather more serious books about Sweden, but none seem to really address the "mystique" the nation has for American liberals. This book, I think, would be kind of a light book about what, exactly, Sweden is doing better, and what is a total liberal myth. It might be called "Is it True About Sweden?"

My friend David from college married a Swedish woman a year or two ago and has been spending some serious time in Sweden. I wrote to ask him his thoughts. He wrote back with a little list of amusing facts he's been collecting about Sweden, including the following:
  • As of 2004 you can pay your Swedish taxes by sending an SMS message from your cell phone.

  • The government sends you a completely filled out tax form and if it looks good you just go online and click okay to pay your taxes.

  • Taxes are generally between 33 and 50% of your income.

  • All employees (inculding graduate students!) get 5 weeks of paid vacation a year.

  • You can take sick leave during your vacation if you are ill.

  • Parents get a total of 13 months of paid maternity leave and the father is required to take at least 1 month of it.(As of 2005 there is discussion of changing this to 15 months and requiring the father and mother to each take 5 and then split the last 5 as they feel appropriate.)

  • All employers (as of 2004) are required to provide free massage.

  • Any product you purchase is guaranteed for 1 year, and the retailer must exchange it if it fails in that time.(This includes things like clothes and shoes.)

  • All non-military property that is not fenced in, or is not a farm or someone's personal garden is open to anyone for hiking through or camping for one night.

  • Swedish university students are required to pay a membership fee in the student union, but no tuition.
Another friend, Amber, cited a study (I haven't read it myself) in which Swedish people rated themselves as having a higher standard of living than Americans rated themselves as having, even though Americans make more on average per capita and own much more stuff.

While Swedes are not living what we might think of as luxurious lifestyles (for example, many seem to pack lunch at home to bring into work), apparently not having to worry about how you'd pay for chemotherapy if you needed some is a pretty big consideration in their standard-of-living calculus.

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iron-on technology meets the wireless age

On her last birthday, Megan received what looked like a plastic-wrapped t-shirt that said "I (heart) carbs" and then had a picture of a penguin, of roughly the same size as the heart, so as to give the impression of "I heart carbs penguin."

It turned out that the item was not a t-shirt, but a t-shirt iron-on kit, containing enough letters and characters to make shirts emblazoned with, say, a "your mom" and a bald eagle, or an "I loathe teddy bears."

I am currently proctoring an LSAT (in a room air-conditioned to about 50 degrees, in an apparent bid to make law school more attractive to Inuits), and there is a woman who apparently took the suggestion of the iron-on kit's manufacturers -- she is wearing a shirt that says "I (heart) carbs" and has silhouettes of, I believe, a teddy bear and a spaceman.

I have been sending Megan text messages for months that say things like "I (heart) U.S.A. jetrocket penguin!"


Friday, August 12, 2005

Atlas shrugged at Star magazine

Apropos to "Jess' Butt Goes Flat!", Irving Kristol once wrote that capitalism had promised three things: affluence, individual liberty, and
"the promise that … the individual could satisfy his instinct for self-perfection -- for leading a virtuous life that satisfied his spirit (or, as one used to say, his soul) -- and that the free exercise of such individual virtue would aggregate into a just society…. It was only when the third promise, of a virtuous life and a just society, was subverted by the dynamics of capitalism itself, as it strove to fulfill the other two -- affluence and liberty -- that the bourgeois order came, in the minds of the young especially, to posses a questionable legitimacy."
(Emphasis mine). How naive a view of capitalism, it seems, would expect that the hoi-polloi would use their liberty to pursue individual versions of virtue, which would "aggregate into a just society."

I am reminded of Ayn Rand -- of the entire trajectory of her life, even. She suffered under communism, and came to America a great proponent of capitalism, but also with a bad case of hero-worship for any big, strong men she could lay eyes on, and in the end, wrote a "masterpiece" in which the heroine (Rand's obvious alter ego) beds the three most powerful men on earth and finally ends up second in command to the most powerful of them -- who, after rescuing her from a plane crash and nursing her back to health, charges her for the eggs he serves her for breakfast, because the best way to show love someone is to respect their ability to earn money (in this case, the future money she would surely earn and use to pay him back for the eggs).

Of course, no one in the book has children or disabled relatives or elderly parents to care for. There's no room for that in a system in which love means respect of another person's market power.

Ayn Rand died quite lonely and bitter. (Of course, Lenin laid the groundwork for the death of 50-100 million people, so bad novel-writing and a dysfunctional personal life are great improvements).

In sum, the free pursuit of money with the expectation that people will use money as a stepping-stone to a just society, pretty much just leads to people getting stuck on the money, and the state of Jessica Simpson's butt.

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unclear website names

In case anyone was confused:
  • J-Date is a Jewish singles site

  • J-List sells Hello Kitty vibrators
And that would be the difference between the Jews and the Japanese.

You must, however, by 18+ for either.

(Incidentally, J-Date has a Hebrew version).

Thursday, August 11, 2005

also in this issue: Jen Curses Out Brad!

The cover story of the current Star magazine is:



I am simply astounded that civilization has progressed to such a point that we have the resources to produce hundreds (thousands?) of weekly magazines, each written by a bevy of reporters and commentators, all glossy and attractively illustrated with photos, and the end result of it all is a cover story about Jessica Simpson's "deflated moneymaker."

Actually, no. That's too easy, making fun of Star magazine. The point that I find more interesting is that, in societies exhibiting a high degree of division of labor, no one really takes responsibility for collective foolishness. Certainly the people writing the magazine say "we only do it because the people want it," and consumers say "I only buy these things because they're so ridiculous." In the entire production cycle of editors, writers, executives, advertisers, distributors, and retail vendors, you won't find anyone who believes this product in any way nears the goodness or utility of sliced bread.

And, lest I leave you hanging on this topic, for those interested in the actual specifics of Ms. Simpson's posterior, it appears that she has always had a flat butt, both before and after her much-remarked-upon weight loss. She was likely wearing padded underpants during the filming of The Dukes of Hazzard, and simply neglected to continue wearing them during the promotion of the film, as one would imagine the underpants might be rather hot and uncomfortable, although perhaps useful for bike-riding.

Amazon reviews that make me sigh

"I always read a book written by a woman about gender issues with a lot of caution and suspicion. And every man should approach this book the same way."

That's it. That's someone's entire review for Cathy Young's "Ceasefire."

This reminds me of the "Stop Her Now" campaign, set out to defame Senator Clinton to the sorts of people who, really, only need the pronoun.


it doesn't even vibrate! but oh, does it satisfy.

I have posted a new review to the Sarcastic Sex Toy Store. I do not recommend visiting it from work.
"Vaginas, Pocket Pals & Dolls" may sound to you like a Broadway musical, but it is actually a product category in the Sarcastic Sex Toy Store.

I do not like thee, social networking site of socially inappropriate networking

I first of all have serious doubts about the utility of Friendster in dating situations. When you start dating someone and become their Friendster, you then gain access to the profiles of all their exes. How fun!

Also, it is unclear whether you are supposed to delete your exes from your friends list. No one else seems to be doing it, but there's no way to prioritize your current Best-Friendster over your He-Cheated-on-Me-and-Now-We're-Just-Friends-(sort of)-ster.

Finally, when you visit your Friendsters' profiles, they now display "joint horoscopes." Like, "You and Scott have smooth sailing ahead!" Which is awesome if you and Scott just broke up. Or maybe you get a "You and Jodie can overcome any bumps in the road," which might lead you to believe -- despite the fact that Jodie is currently throwing all your possessions out onto the fire escape -- that reconciliation is possible and advisable.

Finally, if your boyfriend is on Friendster, he will receive come-ons from webcam girls and hookers.

like prosecuting women for exposing their ankles...

A British man went into surgery and woke up to find all three of his wives present, having discovered that he is a "double bigamist" (why not just a trigamist?) He has since turned himself in to the police.

Bigamy is such a charming old crime, from back when people not only found marriage necessary, but would bother to cement their affairs with additional ceremonies.

Brooklyn's "Jonathan novelist" disease

Jonathan Lethem has launched a website, and it is as pretentious as all fuck, but charming nonetheless. From The Drew Barrymore Stories:
I was riding in an elevator in London hotel with Alfred Hitchcock and Drew Barrymore. Alfred Hitchcock said, "Do you think he's opened the box of poisoned chocolates yet?" Though I knew it was only one of Alfred Hitchcock's deadpan jokes, I grew nervous. Drew Barrymore smiled and laughed, so infectiously that I couldn't help laughing myself. She said: "I took the poisoned chocolates out and replaced them with chocolates filled with sympathy and affection." Even Alfred Hitchcock began laughing now.


Thanks to everyone who came out to the Jenny Vaudeville Show. The house was packed! And thanks to Joshua Grosvent, April Brucker, Sam Means, and Adira Amram for performing. And a shout-out to Moses, for winning the comedy-trivia contest, and to the guys whose names I forget who won "Guess the Author" contests by shouting out "Dostoevsky!" and "Richard Brautigan!" respectively.

Next month's show on September 14 will feature the comic science-fiction rap stylings of Schaffer the Darklord. And, yes, Sam the Onion writer will be back in a few months when he's built up another supply of headlines. (And, yes, I do love "Tart, vicar have creepy British sex").

There is so much love! And so many Peeps shirts in circulation!

Next show: Wednesday, Sept. 14, 10pm!

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

free show Wednesday night at Pete's Candy Store

Tonight, come on out to Pete's at 10pm for the Jenny Vaudeville Show, a free variety show featuring all manner of weirdness. August's show will feature:
  • Musical comedy by Adira Amram and Joshua Grosvent

  • ventriloquist April Brucker and her slutty puppet May

  • and Onion headline writer Sam Means, who will be performing in public for the first time, reading a list of his rejected Onion headlines

The show also features trivia, spelling, and literary quizzes (!) for the audience, with prizes (CDs, etc.) donated by the performers.

The Jenny Vaudeville Show
Pete's Candy Store, 709 Lorimer
This Wednesday, August 10!
10pm (and done in time to get back on the L by midnight!)
Free! Win Prizes!

Jenny Vaudeville (um ... is famous)

p.s. -- Regular readers of my blog(s) may notice that both Joshua Grosvent and Sam Means have recently contributed reviews to the Sarcastic Sex Toy Blog. It's a veritable circlejerk of funny.

welcome to my internal monologue

You know how sometimes you haven't washed your hair in two days and it's kind of glued to your head and then the FedEx lady comes and your buzzer doesn't work, so you have to go down four flights of stairs, and since you're already going downstairs you might as well grab your purse and go get some McDonald's coffee while you're down there in order to give you the mojo to wash your hair and finish your editing job and get to your next appointment, and then on the way to the coffee, a guy on the street calls you "snowflake" and you marvel at how women notice when another person is ill-kempt, but all men care about are short gym shorts, and then the McDonald's team member from whom you buy the coffee catches you staring at her nametag, so you ask "Is Ilianex your real name?" and she says yes, and then you ask her where it's from, and she says "They told me it was Greek," and you think, this is why pronouns require antecedents, and then you get your coffee and head home and your computer crashes mid-edit, and you put cream in your coffee and think, I am one dirty snowflake?


That's just me?


she's "Botoxic"

This article actually makes "world's first supermodel" Janice Dickinson seem kind of likable. She killed her pedophile father by throwing out his heart medication! And she calls Balki from Perfect Strangers a "gimp motherfucker."

other comedians being terribly funny

Greg Rogell: "Did you know that rat poison has an expiration date? What happens when it expires -- does it become delicious?"

the North Shore diet involves rowing a 14-foot boat for hours a day in heavy swells and I just don't have the time

Garrison Keillor is back on Salon! Contributing an article on weight loss:
My plan to become slender and willowy and alluring is not working out and the reason seems to be that though I go for days and days eating only celery and RyKrisp and a soup made from birch twigs and lichen, I black out occasionally and when I regain consciousness I am crouched over the half-eaten carcass of a gazelle and my hands and face are red and sticky and I'm disgusted, of course, and yet very rare gazelle does taste good when you're hungry, and the exertion of chasing one and bringing it down does make a person ravenous.
When Mr. Keillor used to write the Mr. Blue advice column, his advice often made me wish it were biologically possible to have two dads, so he could have been one of them. Not that I think he'd be my mom's type. Nor do I wish retroactive menages-a-trois on her. (Am I really blogging about this? I am a comedian; all is excusable).

"what kind of Mexican would serve this to his worst enemy?"

This is from the movie I acted in last weekend, entitled "A Midnight Snack." It is a humorous short, set in a 1920s speakeasy, about the history of the Ceasar salad. Thanks to actors Topaz G. and Flambeaux for the pics!

I tried for twenty minutes the morning of the shoot to get my nose ring out, but I needed pliers. I showed up on set knowing that the cowboy would have pliers, but the director, Gabrielle, said not to bother; my character, Dottie, was "ahead of her time."


Tuesday, August 9, 2005

I don't even need the donuts

I bought a coffee at Dunkin Donuts today, walked out with it, and did a U-turn right back into the store when I saw a poster advertising that, by getting a free checking account at Chase, one can obtain free coffee & donuts for a year!

As an avid aficionado of all things coffee-related, this offer is too good to pass up. The fine print specifies that one must set up direct deposit and keep the account open for six months, and that one's 52-week coupon book will arrive in 3-4 weeks.

A large coffee a week for a year is over $100 in cost savings! I will save enough on coffee to purchase one extra massage-with-happy-ending per year!

(Do they even have that for girls? No, don't tell me).

see my peeps in the Peeps gallery!

I have updated the t-shirt page with pictures of some of my Peeps.

I don't know these people, but they are my peeps

**get your Peeps shirt here**

what do you think this is, a martyrocracy?

We had a fast-paced, well-executed, and well-attended spelling bee last night at Pete's Candy Store. Due to technical difficulties, our blogger lost some of his live reportage, but for what we've got, check out the blog.

Persephone of the Underworld

A new photo by Aeric Meredith-Goujon:

this earned me a "Jen - bite me"

Brian Van is either offended or mock-offended by my review of his date on his blog.

If those possessive pronouns were confusing, let's review: The New York Post runs a dating column called "Meet Market." I was once in Meet Market. Brian Van writes a blog in which he reviews each entry in Meet Market. Once the Post was well-aware of Brian's blog, Brian himself applied to be a dater in Meet Market. Last week, his profile was published, and since he could not review it himself, I stepped in to write a guest review. This week, Brian went on his date, and I have written my second guest review. Whew!

So, here's an excerpt from the guest review about which Brian frets and fusses:

This week's Post dating roundup reads like the "What I Did Last Summer" essay I wrote in Mrs. Everhart's third-grade class, which I have taken the liberty to include for you here:
I like my grandma. She is nice. I visited her. That is in Ohio. It was hot. But fun. We ate pie.
- Jenny Dziura
One might attribute the milquetoast blandness of this column to the fact of this being the most over-documented date in the history of dating. For the date, Brian chose 28 year old editor Shevi, also my suggestion from my review last week here on the Lectern. So far, so good -- until Shevi realized, as she undoubtedly did at some point in the evening, that this was a "date" on which the Post was trying to impress Brian, all while Brian was trying to impress his readers, and that she had essentially walked into someone else's sick media clusterfuck.

Shevi's review follows. "I got to Paris Match first. It is a small, candlelit, wood-paneled bistro with an atmosphere as flowing as the Seine."

"An atmosphere as flowing as the Seine." Can you imagine dating this girl? Dear Brian, I cannot see you anymore. Though our love has been bountiful like the Mekong in monsoon season, our future is waning like a Gibbous moon.

She continues, guardedly: "Within seconds, we started talking about Brian's blog. As dinner progressed, we talked about our jobs and aspirations, and places we'd traveled." She ends "I really enjoyed meeting Brian and sharing a summer evening of excellent conversation and food with him."

Uh-huh. This is why reality television shows contractually obligate people to get into hot tubs together.

The only sensible conclusion to draw from these mutually bland reviews is that our daters, in the face of media scrutiny, spent their date developing a strategy of calculated misinformation, hastily scribbled these reviews (each approved by the other) on wine lists stolen from Paris Match, and went home together, happy to live in a world in which "shared a cab to the West Side and then exchanged contact information" can also mean "hit it from the back all night long."

Or else these are two really, really boring people.

Your call.

Incidentally, this picture of Brian Van lookin' sexy in a Peeps t-shirt proves he doesn't really hate me:

p.s. This just occurred to me -- I wonder if anyone has ever said "I've got a New York Post for ya right here, baby"?

Monday, August 8, 2005

it's like needlepoint -- too much effort for the eventual payoff

Today I spent thirteen hours in a hot, itchy wig, playing a flapper in a speakeasy in a short film. I have only now come to realize what kind of effort goes into producing movies. Thirteen hours for eight minutes? If the entire film industry just stopped producing films and turned that quantity of effort towards solving world hunger ... well, we'd be really bored at the theater.

Come to Pete's or pretend you have

The spelling bee is today (Monday) at 7pm at Pete's Candy Store. If you're not in New York, you can sort of participate vicariously -- the bee will be live-blogged on the Williamsburg Spelling Blog. Jonathan Lill will post several updates beginning around 7:45pm this evening and ending around 9:30.

support a comedian by buying your sex toys here

New on the Sarcastic Sex Toy Blog, a guest review from Sam Means, Onion headline writer, New Yorker cartoonist, and comedy television writer.

Peep shirts are well-documented

This post shall consist almost entirely of photos.

Here are official photos, by Aeric Meredith-Goujon, of the Shout Out to All My Peeps shirts which are available for sale on this site and at comedy shows:

Here are some Peep shirts featured in a real-life candid action snapshot, from after Saturday's show at the Improv! Courtesy of Brian Van:

I've been invited back to the Improv, so stay tuned for dates. Also, I have a comedy show coming up August 18 (Thursday) at New York Comedy Club at 9pm -- RSVP to

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Saturday, August 6, 2005


Weirdly, I apparently auditioned for the Aspen Comedy Festival tonight and didn't even know it.

I still have my set list written in pen on my wrist. It says:
Virginia Beach
Also, while blogging this just now, I killed a bug with some of those free address labels sent to me by charity, so it's sort of like I pre-addressed a dead bug to myself.


delighted blog post: the official comedy report

My comedy set at the Improv went great! I did some new material about being embarassed by other comics' bathroom jokes.
What I really want is a kinder, gentler comedy club where we sip tea and I tell jokes like "Don't you just hate it when you have to 'powder your nose,' but you're not sure the door to the 'powder room' is completely secure? Someone might walk in! And SEE YOUR NOSE!"
It was a great audience, one where you almost feel like you're cheating. You say anything and pause, and people laugh. I actually didn't get through as much material as I thought I would, because the audience laughing took up so much time. Which is absolutely 100% NOT a complaint. (Sort of like a rich guy complaining that it takes soooo long to count his money).

The little pre-comedy mixer at the Cafe del Teatro was fabulous -- it's a fancy pastry shop, and we had little squares of Napoleons and tarts. If I do another show at the Improv, I will definitely make a practice of holding pre-parties.

Brian Van of The Lectern was in attendance with some friends, along with Megan of Throbbing Brains Onstage and her friend Dileep, plus Tom, SweeneyTim (who had come straight there from a failed date!) and some other folks who I didn't get to meet since they went straight to the show. Brian took pictures that shall be posted soon.

I talked to one comic who didn't know who Stevie Nicks was, or that it was possible to have coke blown up your ass with a straw. Such an educational evening!

I had a daiquiri and the bartender made fun of me for it.

I have to say, a bunch of people in the audience wearing Peeps t-shirts? Wow. I love the world. And all my peeps.

getting ready for comedy tonight

Getting ready for my comedy show tonight....

This morning I got "recognized" while proctoring an LSAT exam. I handed some guy a scan-tron form and he said "You're famous!" Apparently his friend also knew what he was talking about. It was in a lecture hall of about 200 people, so we didn't hang out or anything.

There's a nameless festival on 116th today. It doesn't appear to be celebrating any special nationality, but there are Colombian arepas for sale, and that means I am spending three bucks on corn and cheese and grease.

Update: Could I do a crappier job of stapling a resume to a headshot?

forbidden comedy topics!

Some jokes are simply forbidden on comedy club stages. Not jokes about sex or bodily functions or race or politics or rape or abortion (your mama's so dumb she tried to abort you with a plastic hanger!) No....

As the cowboy once said at a comedy show "Are all comedians temp workers?" You certainly hear a lot of "I was laid off" and "I got turned down for unemployment" and "I live with my parents."

Here are some jokes you absolutely may not tell in a comedy club:
  • I just did my taxes. Everybody hates that, right? You know what really sucks? When your stock options finally vest, and you cash them in just to end up in a higher tax bracket! It's like you're being punished for making money! How much sense does that make?!

  • I asked my secretary -- wait, no, I told my secretary -- to get me a pastrami on wheat, and you know what she came back with? A Reuben! It's so hard to find good help. Women can't even buy sandwiches these days.

  • You know what sucks? When your investments are only making 16% -- but the year-to-date market index is up 22.45%! What does my broker think I mean by "aggressive investing" -- I want a savings account at North Fork? Where did he go to school, Cornell? I hear that school's half public!
Update: I cleaned this post up really nice and titled it "Proof of the Qualities We Value in Standup Comedians," and got it totally rejected by McSweeney's.

Thursday, August 4, 2005

Kong the Realistic (takes two AAs)

I have asked some of my fellow blogging comedians to contribute guest reviews to the Sarcastic Sex Toy Blog. Click to enjoy a review of "Kong the Realistic" by Joshua Grosvent, formerly of the band "Touched by an Uncle" (which still makes people laugh) and one of the performers at the upcoming Jenny Vaudeville Show at Pete's Candy Store on July 10.
But down to business -- when something claims to be 9 inches with a 2.5 inch girth, I expect every centimeter.


Coming next will be a review from a certain Onion headline writer. Stay tuned! (What the hell does it mean to "stay tuned" on a blog?)

And, again -- it's not too late to come to this Saturday's show!

acting, shmacting, I will not let out my inner child

This weekend I am acting in a short film about the origin of the Ceaser salad, set in a 1920s speakeasy. I play a Dorothy Parker-type writer.

I once took acting classes in LA, when I was broke and shopping around my teenage lesbian superhero screenplay, "Fist of Good."

Peeps shirts are here!

This is the t-shirt I've been selling at shows. It says "A Shout-Out to All My Peeps" and is based on a joke from my comedy act. You can hear me explain the origin of the Peep shirt here:

from the Chicks and Giggles show

click here to buy a t-shirt

note how often the word "embarrassing" appears in this post

I was interviewed by the New York Minute podcast show about the comedy scene in New York. While I was very flattered to be considered an expert on the topic, we only did one take of the show and I was afraid it would be very embarrassing. Instead, it is only moderately embarrassing.

I talk a lot on the show about the underground comedy scene -- i.e., shows in bars wherein there's no two-drink minimum, "just the minimum you have to buy in a bar in order to not feel embarrassed."

I have, it seems, offended everyone via this podcast. Especially people from New Jersey (not the cool parts! just the big-haired parts!) and ... Wyoming.

And, from Rob of New York Minute: "I got an email from a French guy today who takes offense at the armpit hair joke in the video. I guess you can't please everyone these days."

Notably, I do say the words "prosthetic vagina" on the show, and no one seems to be offended by that.

I am such a bitch:

NY Comedy Scene with Special Guest Jen Dziura

URL madness

Also on Tuesday, I met comic Tim Warner, who is also a dishwasher who, I think, uses his dishwashing time to fume about politics.

His website address,, caused us all kinds of "who's on first" business. I'm at jen is famous dot com. Oh, I am tim warner dot com. Tim warner dot com? No, I am tim warner dot com. Oh, you are i am tim warner dot com? Yes, I am i am tim warner dot com.

Anyway, funny guy...
If you're one of these people that think that gays or bisexuals can't raise children, let me bring up a few points, if I may. Bin Laden's parents... Straight. JonBenet Ramsey's parents... Straight. Jeffrey Dahmer's parents... Straight.
- Tim Warner

a bit of light porn

I generally protect my cowboy's privacy here, but I'm going to give him a shout-out for getting scouted for a jeans ad. These are the cowboy's abs! Hot damn.

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that's why there's kind of a pseudo-union, but not really

On Tuesday, I attended the New York Comedians' Coalition's seminar on bringer shows. (A "bringer" show is one in which a new comic -- "new" often being a plethora of years -- is required to bring a certain number of paying guests in order to be let on stage).

The general lesson was pretty much where I am now -- after a point, only do a bringer show if you want the tape or expect to be seen by industry.

I once did a bringer show (the one I got my current tape from) where one of the other comics calculated that the comics had brought in $4,000 for the club in about two hours (none of which the comics see).

As an aside, someone on the panel mentioned the "hack list," an ongoing list of worn-out and tired (like your mama!) topics that comics should avoid (airline food, Micheal Jackson...). It prompted me to try to think of the Ultimate Hack Joke. I think it begins something like "What's up with airline food? It's so bad you couldn't even spoon it into Terri Schiavo."

A prize to anyone who can concisely work in Michael Jackson, the differences between men and women, and Tom Cruise. Wait, no. Please don't send me any such thing.

Update: Now I remember why I wanted to blog about this. One of the panelists -- not even as a joke so much as a passing idea in a list of ideas -- suggested that comics could meet more people to bring to shows by joining Alcoholics Anonymous.

my dentist was right, flossing IS important

I just had an ear of corn for breakfast (yes, "breakfast" was at 1pm). Upon starting breakfast, I was pleased that I had had the foresight to be eating corn at home, so I could floss immediately afterwards. Ever suffered through a date with food in your teeth?

However, I keep my floss in my bathroom (silly me), and I currently cannot access my bathroom, because my super is fixing the toilet, and he is very angry.

The reason for this righteous discontent is that I complained about his not fixing it correctly the first time, which caused his boss to chew him out, and now he is extraordinarily gruff.

This, to me, has been a demonstration that anger knows no language barrier.

Wednesday, August 3, 2005

Read my review of the Blueberry Tart Jelly Pocket Tush

I am now the proud owner of the domain Mom would be so proud.

More importantly, I am now writing a sex toy review blog.


(Regarding your decision on whether to view this site from work: the blog contains pictures of sex toys, but no naked humans. It really depends on where you work. I mean, is banned in the United Arab Emirates).

when do you ever get to call someone a juice whore?

am New York (one of those free newspapers they hand out at the subway) is running this syndicated column from the Orlando Sentinel (oh, right, I forget about New York's journalist shortage!) in which Kathleen Parker, pundit of the Aging But Fruit-Producing State, expresses right-wing opinions about New York politics.

Why, am New York, why?

I was pissed today that Ms. Parker made fun of Hillary Clinton's speech to Hispanic human rights organization La Raza, promising better education and health care, as well as "help with lead paint and childhood asthma." Ms. Parker compared the latter to help with "teen acne."

Whoever gives out the report cards for air pollution recently gave Brooklyn an abysmal "D." And there is so much diesel in the air in Manhattan it's amazing we don't all have emphysema. It certainly makes a person dirty. Of course little baby lungs (Hispanic or otherwise) can't freaking deal with suspended truck waste particles.

Hahahaha. Childhood asthma is sooo funny, you orange-growing whore.

old ladies DO look alike!

Today, according to the AP, state Assemblyman Dov Hikind, a Democrat from Brooklyn, spoke out in favor of racial profiling of terror suspects, saying "They all look a certain way."

Of course! The 9/11 bombers, the terror suspects in London, John Lee Malvo, and Timothy McVeigh are practically all wearing the same fraternity sweaters.

Also, on NPR this morning, a terrorism expert pointed out that, while we haven't much seen this in America (yet), there have been over 500 female suicide bombers, mostly Turkish women.

(From Radar: A man attempted to get searched at a subway station by dressing as a Saudi sheik).

The NPR expert also cited certain factors used in the NYPD's attempts to profile based on suspicious behavior, instead of race. These factors include:
  • prays repeatedly
  • wearing baggy clothes in summer
  • smells like flower water
So ... I think the NYPD just profiled a whole lot of grandmas.

Tuesday, August 2, 2005

find out about the benefits of dating suicide bombers...

I just finished my absolutely beautiful first email newsletter ("Shout-Out #1"), containing exclusive jokes and audio ("layering is a scam!") from my Chicks and Giggles set last week.

I have not had time to eat in about a week. Baron took me out for Italian the other day, and after taking home the leftovers, I got three meals out of it. Otherwise ... comedy is a great diet plan, even more time-efficient than bulimia!

The story of selling my eggs to a wealthy gay man (true and in progress!) will be in the next update. I'm going to send them every 2-4 weeks, as needed.

Monday, August 1, 2005

the butchers of the Meet Market

Brian, who writes a blog about the New York Post's "Meet Market" dating column, has asked me to do some guest blogging.

The reason he has absconded his normal duties is that he himself is this week's dater (just as I once was, oh so long ago, before the cowboy and when I thought it was a good idea to date rockstars).

The blog's tone is quite snarky and Brian assured me that I could snark as well. "Be brutal," he wrote, "because I certainly haven't held back on anyone in the past."

The permalink to my review (it's about halfway down, under Brian's picture) is here. Excerpt below:
This week's Meet Market headline blares "Blogger Brian sks Web Woman." Oh, those clever Post reporters. Is "sks" some kind of trendy lingo from the world wide supernet WiFi highway? Or did the reporter text-message this article in?

And wherever does one find a good "web woman" these days? (Oh, Charlotte, my web woman, spin me a web of the finest spider silk so that I won't be eaten after the county fair. Quoth the web: "Some Dater!")

Brian describes himself as "generous, thoughful and romantic." He likes "cycling, jogging and swimming." He cannot live without "breakfast, lunch and dinner." He wants someone who is "confident, fairly intelligent and adventurous." He only likes things that come in threes! How will he ever choose but one woman? He also "volunteers with several organizations." Several, Brian? Did you mean three?

On Brian's worst-ever first date, he was dragged into Duane Reade, where his date tried to get him to buy her $40 worth of cosmetics, toiletries, and food.

Brian, that's what you get for picking up homeless teenage runaways on St. Marx Place.

New Yorkers, make your comedy reservations!

Dear blog readers,

My next comedy show is this Saturday night at 7pm! If you're coming -- and I'd love for you to -- you need to call and make reservations (that also gets you a discount).


Comedy Show with Jennifer Dziura
Saturday, August 6
7pm (arrive by 6:40 for seating)
New York Improv, 318 W. 53rd St. between 8th and 9th.
$12 with reservation ($15 at the door) / 2 drink minimum

Make reservations ASAP at 212-465-3108.

Mini-Mixer at the Cafe del Teatro
I'll be hanging out at the Cafe next door (316 W. 53rd bet. 8th and 9th), with a JenIsFamous sign or something, from about 5:30-6:30pm. Come say hello!

Hear Jen do comedy ...

a.k.a. "that guy from the AOL commercial" again

Here is my favorite Baron Vaughn one-liner, at least for the week or so:
"The reason I like juice from concentrate is because they really thought about it."
Check out Baron's new site.


one-liner of the day

If the ice cream man can't get it up, do you call him Mr. Softee?


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