My Favorite Things To Do On The Internet

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Peroxide Mocha ponder the fragility of our existence.

1. Flickr-snooping: I like to look at picture sets of friend’s parties that I was not invited to. Alternate Name:*Snort* THAT hors d’oeuvre does not look very delicious.
2. Ex-Boyfriend-Googling: A classic, although I was sad to find that an ex had killed himself. Breaking up *is* hard to do.
3. Find My Own Death Announcements: When your name is Virginia Jones, you die several times a month. My family’s OK,
4. Myspace Hatin’: Not possible on Facebook, which is why it is still inferior in my eyes. I don’t want to be your friend, I just want to look at you and feel better that you don’t want to talk to me ever again!
5. Taking mental illness quizzes: I know for certain that I do not have a shopping compulsion. Everything else depends on the day.
6. OTHER STALKING VARIATIONS: Now, we all stalk enemies and exes, because it’s fun. But have you considered checking your own Youtube clip, obsessively, to see if people are watching/commenting on it? How about commenting on someone else’s clip that you like, and then checking back to see if other people think you comment on something you thought was funny was ALSO funny? How about writing a review of a product or service and checking on that, say, a hundred times? Just doing the cyber version of riding your bike past its house, all day- “Do other people love Kindle as much as I do? Do they like my parody song, Kindle in the Wind?”
It’s a big Internet! Get creative! What else can we do with free time, a negative attitude, and a 3G connection?

Auggie Roast Post-Mortem

Posted Posted in comedy, portland

Super-Christ Auggie-Star

A lot of people who are curious about things that happen in the world, but unwilling to leave their houses for it, have been asking how the Auggie Smith roast went down. Here are the highlights as remembered by me:

Troy Thirdgill in a beautiful daishiki as Reverend Jeremiah Wright, whom I’ll bet you didn’t even KNOW was a friend of Aug’s. Amazing.

Richard Bain wrote a special joke for everybody, and wore his t-shirt that Zach Galifianakis signed, and in general looked like Richard.

Dax Jordan on Lonnie Bruhn: If you took away the palsy, he’d just be cerebral.

Andy Andrist on Dax: What’s in his neck, it looks like… an elbow?

Me on Ron Osbourne: Doesn’t he look handsome? This is the first time I’ve seen him in pants that didn’t zip into shorts.

Aug on Holli: Holli Pappan, she’s the second-hottest comic in Portland, behind Andy Wood.

Me on Aug: He talks about having kids, but he doesn’t understand that you have to sleep with the same woman…for nine months…in a ROW.

Andy Wood on Mustard Man: Musty couldn’t be here, but he’s missed because…

Aug: You’re gonna do the Musty jokes?

Andy: I wrote ’em! I’m gonna do ’em!

Andy Wood on Richard Bain: Did you hear that Richard Simmons is going on the Richard Bain diet? He eats shit, but only when it matters!

Art on Richard: What’s it like when Richard tries to dress up for an event- AWK-WARD!

Dax on Virginia: She’s a vegan, she rides a bike to work, and she’s still fat!

Me: I’m gonna kill you.

Dax brought some show-and-tell, in the form of a forgotten storage trunk full of Auggie’s posessions, including a photo of himself on the toilet, and a Christmas Looney Toones tie, from the dark days when he was first learning to dress himself.

At the end of the night, as we stood around finishing our drinks and laughing at the pain we were going to bring to people who called us fat, we heard a majestic KA-WHUMP and turned towards the sound, many of us crying “Shit, Lonnie!”

But it was a tiny lady’s boots sticking in the air, and the semi-sober but very embarrassed Edie Van Ness was fished out from where she had fallen. Once it was clear that she was not hurt, we went back to laughing. She is in the center of this photo, which was taken pre-fall.

Front: Andy Andrist

Behind Andy: Richard Bain and Ron Osbourne

Keith Wallan, Arlo Stone, Edie Van Ness, Auggie Smith, Troy Thirdgill, Holli Pappan, Susan Rice, The Top of Andy Wood’s head, Me Looking Like an Ass, Dax Jordan, Art Krug

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

Posted Posted in comedy


Dear Mom;
Please don’t read this.

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!

I’m A Weiner

Posted Posted in comedy


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!

Life is Weird.

Posted Posted in comedy

I am hosting for the fantastic Troy Thirdgill and feature Darrin Meyer at Portland’s Harvey’s Comedy Club this weekend, and last night who stopped in but “They Live” star “Rowdy” Roddy Piper, as handsome as ever with a titanium hip.

Fatty Carbuncle- Another Repost From I Could Kill Her

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Dear Elaine;

Listen. I know you’re concerned with your weight. How do I know? Because you’re a girl and because you’re alive. Our friend, the ever- sensitive Auggie, wondered to me why most women think they’re fat when they’re perfectly lovely, and I think it might be because when we go to the clothing store, the only items that fit us have a silhouette of a whale on the label. In general, if the size number is greater than the age at which we lost our virginity, we start getting concerned that we’re either hideously fat, or else that we’re a hideously fat nun. I just read the touching book about funnyman Chris Farley, and evidently I weigh the same as Chris Farley at a “good” weight. So we’ve gotta do something. Sidebar- you know, you only really see fat girls drinking Diet Coke. Do you suppose they’re lying to us, and it’s just made of nasty chemical flavoring plus high-calorie corn syrup?

A lot of people say they just don’t know how to get in shape. I know how. It’s just that it’s hard work. I was watching a show about weight loss, and how it’s just an equation- if you take in fewer calories than you put out, you’ll lose weight. I said, thanks a lot, TV- you think I’m fat *and* bad at math.

The last time I lost a lot of weight, women would ask me all the time how I did it, and as I explained that I was training for the Portland marathon, running 40 miles a week and eating healthy, I could see their eyes glaze over with disinterest, and they would say, oh, well, my friend’s been sleeping in a hydraulic tube, wrapped in Saran Wrap smeared with lard and beeswax, and I was hoping it was something like that.

I’m not working hard anymore. This time I’m working out smarter. This time I’m gonna lose weight in a fast and easy way!
What are my options for nutty-ass, health-endangering fad diets?

I do know a guy who is the last living Atkins dieter. I am not a good candidate for that, because I don’t eat meat, so I am not swayed by the magic of eating bacon smeared with butter. As far as I can tell, all that would be left for me to eat is celery and dust. Also, I read that carbohydrates are not just the fuel for your body, they’re what powers your brain, which is why every Atkins aficionado I have known has had beef ketosis breath and the attention span of a potato-starved gnat.

Liposuction’s out, as it’s surgery and it maxes out at ten pounds, and that’s just the tip of my buttery iceberg. I was curious about Alli, the little blue diet pill that makes you shit fat*. There is a helpful booklet that comes with Alli that reads: There are some side effects, which include “oily spotting” and shitting when you hadn’t planned to. Don’t be a baby, Elaine – it’s all the same symptoms as you get from eating at Taco Bell.

The book also says: the excess fat floating on the toilet water may look like the oil from a

See that? Already Alli has helped me! I’ll never eat cheese pizza again! Blarg! And it’s classic Clockwork Orange-style reprogramming: instead of feeling watching violent films and feeling nauseous, you’ll grow to associate eating a doughnut with the very real possibility of crapping a stick of butter on the subway.

* This is not their official motto- yet! I have helpfully emailed it to them and am patiently waiting for a response.

All the skinny bints at work go on about the Master Cleanse diet. A couple of years ago, it gained some popularity because Beyonce went on it so that she would not be mistaken for the fat, talented girl in Dreamgirls.

Apparently, the difference between this and real-life anorexia are the duration and hot lemonade, which has just enough maple syrup in it to keep you alive- and it’s supposed to turn you inside out with the mastery of its cleansing. There is some sort of zen bullshit component of it also, but instead of dwelling on one’s navel, it centers on the rectum. It seems that when people are not worried about the size of their ass, they’re concerned with what’s inside of it. A very similar diet is the cabbage soup diet, which is the same thing except you pretend you’re eating soup, and then you fart yourself thin. I guess I’m not clear on the details.