Doug Benson Has Heard That Portland Is Green

America met Doug Benson as a goofy, subversive finalist on the fifth season of Last Comic Standing. He was rejected for his first tryout, so he drove out to Minnesota to try out again, and made it to the finals. Although he was voted off in favor of twin blond hillbillies and a man with a head like a 15 pound bag of Idaho potatoes, he has done more with that show's exposure than any of the winners- He's gone on to make a movie about smoking pot every waking moment for a month, Super High Me, and he's a regular contributor to the Best Week Ever and other VH1 talking head stuff. He's got a couple of shows at UCB that I enjoy when they are podcast- I Love Movies and The Doug Benson Interruption, where he lives out every comic's dream of yelling stuff out at his friends onstage. On top of that, he's famous for his lazy, one-line movie reviews and his lazy eye. He'll wear any free hoodie onstage. He's appeared on Friends, the Sarah Silverman show and How I Met Your Mother. I like him a lot. All this to say, fabulous Bridgetown Comedy is bringing Doug Benson to Portland for his debut at Berbati's pan next Wednesday, October 15th. Please come out and see him, and his friend Graham Elwood, who is also awfully good.

Boat Cucumber Wire.

Pandemonium, The Flatulent Panda

Pandemonium v2 from Leejay Xia on Vimeo.

My sister Emily, fellow vegan and current film school student, has just turned in a very nice animation about a panda that eats inappropriate foods and pays the price in wind. It's got a Boosh-y feel to it that I really like, and hope you will enjoy as well.

It's Contest Time, Big Cat!

I'm funny how, I mean funny like I'm a clown, I amuse you?

I am engaged in another horrifying battle of the wills tonight in a comedy contest at the Thirsty Lion, a fake British pub downtown at 2nd and Ankeny. No relation to the Hungry Tiger, but I hear it's close to the Horny Cheetah and the Depressive Panther bars. The contest starts at 9, and the prize for the top spot includes tickets to Carlos Mencia, which I don't want. And yet, I crave competition. Hooray!

Postscript: I did not place, although I had one of the precious few sets with some laughter in it. I would like to congratulate the judges, whose qualifications were that they all worked for Anheuser/Busch, for overlooking audience response in their tallies. All that aside, I am very pleased for the winner, the very funny Lonnie Bruhn, first runner-up, the smooth and sassy Dax Jordan, and third place Arlo Stone. The prize I am taking home is that I am never going to faux English pub the Thirsty Lion, ever again. Lonnie was overjoyed to learn that the first prize of "$500 Cash and Prizes" turned out to be no cash, all prizes.

Dark Day

I was in a meeting, and the presenter said that in a women's sportswear line we wanted to pursue the fun and surrealism of Aqua Teen Hunger Force, with the intellect and wit of Janeane Garofalo.

I tried to look on the bright side- after all, it's been several years since people were saying "bling" or "Ghetto Fabulous", and it's been a year since anyone tried to drop "kawaii" into a sentence about performance sportswear. It has only been a month since I had to endure someone repeating "manga" meaninglessly when they meant "anime." But really, what kind of sense does that make? In what way are pants like Janeane Garofalo?

Why won't the earth open up and swallow me whole?

You Know, Our Mortal Time Is Short!

You might as well spend as much of it drunk and laughing as you can. This open mike needs two things: AUDIENCE MEMBERS and COMICS. Come on out. I've got free entertainment for audience members and free drinks for comics. YOU. CAN'T. LOSE!

Update: Looks like the Tiger's on life support- if you ever wanted to come see me host this venue, why not make it be in October?

Postscript: Well, after an attendance of four comics, two audience members, and Gil Brown, I have put the Hungry Tiger comedy mike down, holding it and stroking its fur affectionately as the needle went in. Its breathing gradually slowed and I watched its powerful, leather-padded paws clench and relax as it went into its final sleep.

Inside The Comic's Studio

There is something so deeply wrong with me that I now feel compelled to be truthful about it on the Internet.

I was at a particularly lively Portland open mic last night. A standup was threatened by an incensed audience member, who broke the emcee's microphone. The same young comic took it upon himself to let me know that one of my jokes is "terrible". He feels that being completely honest and free with his opinion is the greatest gift he can offer the Universe. You know, the usual. Also, there was an individual scouting for a showcase in Beaverton in the neighborhood of the old Westside.

It is an unpaid showcase that I would have to go to Beaverton for, in a neighborhood I don't much like.

It's a gig I don't want. If I were offered the gig, I would politely decline.

No, seriously, I would. I am blessed with multiple opportunities for unpaid mike time every week, many of them in biking distance. Like Dr. Venkman says, I don't have to take this abuse from you. I've got hundreds of people dying to abuse me.

But when she picked out some of my lady-friends and took their information and not mine, I was FURIOUS. What I really want is to be offered the showcase so that I can turn it down. It is ridiculous.

Is there a medication for this? Is it...it's alcohol, isn't it?

I'm A Weiner

I just back from a casino gig in beautiful Coos Bay, OR. It was a fun gig supporting the very funny Milt Abel. After my last casino gig in Pendleton, where they carried the Native American theme through to offering smallpox blankets, the Mill Casino seemed like a fancy dream. Generally, I'm too cheap to gamble, and would prefer to throw my money in the toilet- but I was trying to hide my eyes from the sadness of a five hundred year old woman putting pennies in a slot machine, threw two bucks in a poker slot, and won ten dollars American. I'm a winner, no matter what they said in high school! Ten dollars=PROFIT!

It's Coming! Halloween!

It’s almost that spooky time of year again! I have always loved Halloween. I think it’s tailor-made for girls- who doesn’t like dressing up and being rewarded with candy? Maybe I love it because I snared my first boyfriend in 8th grade at a Halloween party while dressed like Cleopatra and kicking serious asp.
In college, I rocked an Egyptian Cat Goddess (Bastet for the nerds) look with face fulla paint and a head fulla acid and met another guy. We made a date for a couple days after, but I didn’t keep it when I realized he did not actually know what I looked like. Of course, being a suburban gothgirl meant that the day after Halloween was the optimal time to head to Michael’s MJDesigns and stock up on cheap-azz clown white and fishnets. Day of the dead, indeed!

Historical Document from 1987
I like that in America, adults still get to dress up, although I have been slightly annoyed that the women’s costumes are limited to some combination of Goth girl and whore. Maybe you’re right. Maybe there’s not a giant difference between the two. But really- I’m a sexy witch, I’m a sexy vampire, I’m a sexy cat, I’m a sexy maid, I’m a sexy corpse- and then the guys are all supposed to be inflated sumo wrestlers and ketchup dispensers? How is a sexy witch supposed to get it on with a sumo wrestler? And all the guys are so into pirates, but they’re not into dressing as hobos, the disabled, cross-dressing transient muggers of today.
It’s not fair.

Sex and candy- hey, speaking of, when are Marcy Playground coming out with another record?

Costume Idea for Two People:White tees, 2 dreadlock wigs, 2 giant baseball caps, sunglasses. One is Big
Wayne and one is Medium-Sized Wayne.

But my point- and yes, I have one- Children ruin Halloween.
1. There is a new horrifying phenomenon when sometimes lazy, whorish Mom’s outfits are handed down, so you see an eight year old dressed as Spooky Nurse Fuckalot. Here’s some candy, honey. No, I don’t want an enema.
2. Halloween is about fantasy, and children don’t need any more fantasy. I’m tired of hearing their bullshit stories about what supposedly happened at Grandma’s.
3. Kids refuse to keep their goddamned costumes on. Last year, I met a ninja who had lost his sword and taken his hood off, so what we were dealing with was: a midget in black pajamas. I ask you. Pirates have their eyepatches upside down on foreheads. Princesses drop their wands in the toilet. What kind of commitment is that to a “look”? No commitment at all.

Costume Idea For One Person:
Smeared evil clown makeup, and covered in pills: Amy
Winehouse.

3. Trick or treat is a farce, and as far as I can tell, it’s our fault. The little ghosts and goblins are home having their stashes rifled through by their paranoid, chocolate-starved parents by the time the street lights come on. I get home at 5:30, my house is egged and crudely spelled signs are stuck in my lawn already. Let me say- most of the time that candy is, god forbid, poisoned, it's the kid’s own parents who do it, and I'm sure they have their reasons.

4. Mommy, why is there a blood-covered phallus coming out of me? Mommy?

Costume Idea for three friends:
Girl dresses like a streetwise hooker with strawberry hair,
two guys dress like the Dirty Rotten Scoundrels and say "Bow Bow-Chicka
Chicka": Pink and Yello.

+

Halloween. Adults. Let’s take it BACK.

Kelso Wonderland!

Having your name in lights makes you feel important!

Having your name misspelled in lights only slightly less so.

Really and truly, I had a grand time featuring in Kelso for Mark Saltviet.

Can You Help A Bitch Out?

One of my favorite periodicals, Bitch, (come on- this comes as a surprise to no-one) is in a financial pickle. Donations are tax-deductible and will help you sleep at night. Here is the editor and her special friend. http://bitchmagazine.org/donate

Postscript: Looks like they made goal in a jaw-dropping three days! Feminism's not dead, despite Sarah Palin!