By The Kicking Of Some Bums...

Holli Pappan made me cry, then laugh, and then cry, at the perfectly miniature Famous Mysterious Actor costume she put together for Halloween. My dreams have died, but my soul sings free.

Something Famous this way Comes!

I can smell it coming in the air tonight, oh Lord
And I've been waiting for this pixy for all my life, oh Lord
Can you feel it screaming and throwing candy tonight, oh Lord, oh Lord

Well, if you told me you were Cutter, I would not lend a hand
I've seen your face before my friend, but I don't know if you know who I am
Well I was there and I saw pre-enactments, I saw them with my own two eyes
So you can wipe off that grin, I know where you've been
It's all been a stack of pies!

The Famous Mysterious Actor is throwing a Halloween Party at Berbati's Pan! Come out and wear a costume!

A Very Greggy Halloween!

Hello and welcome. We would like to take you on a tour of Old Greggs from all over the internet. I am reposting this due to 200 people looking for Old Greggs on Badinia.com a day.

I'm not biased at all when I say that girls make the cutest Old Greggs. Absolutely darling, darling.

Cute Mangina, baby!

The exception that proves the rule.

I don't like to be negative, but this is deeply half-assed.

If you get high enough, you may think that you look like Old Gregg already.

All he knew for sure was that he was going to get drunk on Bailey's.

Are. You. Shitting. Me.

This...gives me nightmares. Look...if you're not man enough to commit to wearing leggings or tights, don't be Old Gregg. Nobody's forcing you, are they? This is incredibly non-committal.
Cleansing the palate with Old Gregg looking cute as hell in Aberdeen! Oh, this one's so good I'm loath to post it!

This kind of Old Gregg happens by accident, when you wake up in a pool of your own vomit and cassette tape.

This Gregg had the same problem that we did, with the necktie getting a little green. This is probably my favorite direction on the wig.

I am split on this one- I am not sure if he's really an Old Gregg or if he's just a drag Kermit.

Rather a lot of effort for a British dude.

Old Gregg kicks back with a beer and a paper after work.

This one's kicky and has a little attitude.

Old Gregg wants to show us his kitchen and farmhouse chairs.
A nice direction on the wig here!
At any rate, it's wonderful company to be in!

Postscript, 1/22/08: SHAMED!

OH MY LORD! Look at this- lookit the glove! This is Old Gregg by UK Costumer Amy Knight, who has also turned in some fantastic David Bowie reproduction costumes that have been used in BBC productions. She kicks ass, see her website here.

A beautiful latecomer to the Gregg game is DJ Rhienna, who is blinding you with science, and with her Mangina.

Oh Max Rider! How I Detest You.

Oh people. I try to be positive. We're all on this earth together. And granted, I've been moody this week. Listen, I really am so proud of Portlanders who take the train and leave their cars at home. But this week I have shared the train with some amazing folks.
This dude felt that his music selection was SO AMAZING that he needed to play it out loud on his tinny Iphone speakers, and everyone in the section had to spend extra energy studiously ignoring him. The only song I recognized was "Let It Be", because the sound quality sounded like it was being played off of a flexi-disk with an unbent paperclip. He also had those "baby" earplugs, which I feel are bullsh*t. What, did you use a paper-punch?
This guy in the ugly hat didn't do anything wrong, but I wanted to commemorate the moment- I got to enjoy a double feature from the guy next to me. The first reel was Fat F*cker Eats A Box Of Fried Chicken On The MAX. The second reel was Greasy-Fingered Fat Guy Operates an Iphone. I like to think the guy in the hat outside is also watching the phenomenon of the chicken-eater.
This guy in the cowboy hat was hitting on a teenager who had the unfortunate luck of being seated next to him- loudly, and at great length. In this photo, he is looking at me taking a picture of a pedophile.

One time in 2005, a guy moved so I could hang my bike and not get kicked off the train. I hate every other person on every other train besides him.

Catching up with the Jones!

Lene Lovich and Nina Hagen enjoy Halloween

You know, part of the reason I wanted to start a blog was so that I would do more stuff to talk about - to tend to say "yes" instead of "no" to invitations, and to get out and do comedy- in the short-term, it looks like I am doing too much actual stuff to actually post to my blog very much- this is like the Chinese curse, May You Live In Interesting Times.

Up and Coming: Halloween! I love Halloween. It's like Christmas to me. Our costumes are ready, our hooker stockings are hung by the medicine cabinet with care- I was excited to see that the party at the Fez (after the Famous Mysterious Actor show at Berbati's!) is hosting a costume party themed for television and pop stars, (We are Lene Lovich and Nina Hagen!) Wish me luck-

Eugene! I am excited about the all-girl laugh-fest coming up the weekend of the 14th and 15th, and looking forward to meeting more funny ladies and making up more jokes on the only topics we work around, dating, dogs, and dieting!

Chariots of Rubber! I have recently been cast in Jeffrey Wonderful's musical about Demolition Derby, love, and Cindy, the Erotic Pleaser as a Backup Dancer, so I can add that distinction to my resume! I have NO idea when or where it will premiere, but it is going to be FANTASTIC. They told me I could tap dance in it. Equal parts Hedwig, Rocky Horror, Grease, and giant, talking nipples.


Exclamation Mark!

I leave you with a Fact-of-The Day quote from John Hodgman's very funny new book, More Information Than You Require:

HALLOWE'EN: Originally called Samhain, this is the traditional Pagan-American holiday when we ask our children to consider the fragility of life by dressing them in darkly colored costumes and vision-impairing masks and encouraging them to walk around in the road.

Monster Letters!

You can get your name in monster letters here!

I love I-mockery at this time of year.

Last Year, I Had Pizzazz!

When's the last time you saw a dolly in a Lolita outfit do tap dance and comedy? Probably not recently!

My Motto, Courtesy of Ron Bennington from the Ron & Fez Show

Dear Mom;

Please don't read this.

Everybody else:

I think a person needs a motto, words to live by, a phrase with which to mold and shape one's life and mine is: Fuck it!

It's a magic phrase. As Stephen Baldwin says in Usual Suspects:

"Bad day. Fuck it."

And shrugs off three murders like a dirty coat. It just makes me feel better to say it, at any time, day or night. I don't mean to sound negative- To say "fuck it" is an affirmation, to say- this is not going to get me down. You know what? Everyone doesn't like me, and worse, sometimes people who don't like me have good things happen to them. I like someone, they don't like me back? Fuck it! I have lost my keys, patience, or mind- Fuck it! If I failed, I must fail harder. There is no shame in failing, there is only shame in not trying. As the rainy season starts in Portland, long grey periods punctuated with moments of dark, I want to bring my favorite phrase to the forefront of the collective unconscious: Fuck it!

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.

Hit By A Carr

Since he has noticed that I am fairly interested in comedy, Spouse recently bought me a book that deadpan Brit Jimmy Carr and his friend Lucy Greeves wrote called The Naked Jape. It was funny, mildly educational, and featured 400 of Jimmy and Lucy's favorite jokes, and its title punned on the title of a Desmond Morris book. Amazon suggested to spouse that there was another book that Carr wrote called Only Joking, which I looked forward to reading. When I went on a roadtrip recently, I brought it along.
It’s the same dang book, retitled and freshly pressed for the US market. They took out a dozen jokes that they felt Americans were too stupid to get, with high-falutin' references to Polos and Boots Chemists. The sadness I feel that he thought Americans were so stupid that we could not understand what a book called The Naked Jape was about outweighed my annoyance of having a duplicate book.

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?