A Change Of Address...
Out of respect for the people I work with and the company I work for, I will be making some changes to this blog. The title and URL will change, but the semi-retarded writer at the helm will remain the same. Who am I kidding? I'm completely retarded.
Find the new rendition at http://newyorkintern.blogspot.com
Today, I got to edit jokes written by the writers of The Daily Show
. These are jokes which aren't used on air, but will be later posted on the Comedy Central website.
So, if you’re keeping score at home, that’s…
- I edit jokes which don't make it on The Daily Show.
- These unused jokes are now the best topic for this blog.
- I’ll use this topic/blog to create my own jokes.
- These jokes won’t be as good as the jokes I edited.
- Which, again, weren’t quite good enough for The Daily Show.
We’re talking third maybe even fourth-hand humor here. Come to think of it, I don't even believe there's a reason for this post, which simply makes the blog that much sadder. Essentially, I'm using unused Daily Show
jokes -- and not even the joke itself, just the idea
of the joke -- to fuel my own mediocre humor. And I'm not even telling you the unused jokes; I'm using the story of an idea of a joke to guide this post. Still with me?
Wait, here's a graphic which will better explain it. This graphic is meant to be applied to Ronald Reagan's brilliant trickle-down theory, whereby if you give corporations lots of free money, those corporations will pass the wealth down to the little people. I haven't left my room in 20 years, but, heh-heh, I think it's silly for me to assume that modern-day corporations are anything but the generous, ethical entities they were in the 80's.
I mean, what could they possibly do, use fraudulent accounting techniques to allow themselves to be listed as the seventh largest company in the United States, a company expected to dominate the trading it had virtually invented in communications, power and weather securities, and then instead become the largest corporate failure in history, emblematic of institutionalized and well-planned corporate fraud?? Haha! Okay, Looney McNutjob! Whatever you say!
That's really all I've got. I spent most of the time on the picture.
God Versus Satan, Coming Soon To A Subway Train Near You
I got on the N train this morning, like it was any other morning. Suddenly, a woman on the far end of the car began belting out some speech about God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit and how it's not too late to accept Him (God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit) and His (God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit's) love. Well, a number of the passengers were becoming increasingly annoyed by the woman, not so much for the message, but because her voice carried so well. Too well..."It's not too late, children! Turn back to Jesus! I know things in your life haven't been great. Your job is not fulfilling. The person you thought was your soulmate is no longer providing the love and support you need. That brand of cereal you really loved is now off the market. Life is beating you down like a jack hammer. Come to God! God will be your soulmate. God will provide you with the sustenance which that cereal never could! Jesus will make your life fulfilling, because Jesus is everlasting. God is all powerful. The Holy Spirit will lift you up and fill your heart with so much love and joy that you'll wish you'd accepted Him (God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit) sooner. You'll sing to the highest heavens to proclaim your unwaivering devotion to God! Come now, children. It's never too late!"
And it went on. I, too, became annoyed by it. So, in the mood for a little competitive preaching, I began touting the joys of worshipping Satan."Yes, children, it certainly isn't too late. To turn to Satan that is! I know there have been a lot of negative things said about me. That I "torment" souls. Or that I "torture" humanity. Or that I "chain" souls to "posts" in Hell and make these souls live out eternity as weird, human-like beast creatures, eating from skull-shaped doggie bowls. They're not even real skulls! And honestly, aren't these words like "torture" and "torment" just buzz words that Good likes to use to give Bad a bad name?
Yes, your life isn't going as planned. Whose does? So, you didn't get that promotion? Well I got kicked out of Heaven! Your girlfriend left you? Well I got kicked out of Heaven. Life not amounting to much? Well I got kicked out of Heaven! You know how hard that is to do? It's, like, super hard! God will forgive you for anything! Your favorite cereal is now off the market? Cereal?? HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO BATHE IN A SEA OF REALLY POINTY DAGGERS???
Sure, turn to Christ. If you want your time wasted. Think about it! He's the Christ... I'm the Anti-Christ. Didn't you learn about matter and anti-matter in high school? It doesn't, heh-heh... "matter" ... what side you're on, because we'll just cancel each other out in the end anyway. So, why in the my home would you want to live out your life worrying about sin, when you live it out your life smiting your enemies and sexing up your enemies' many wives? The choice is pretty obvious, friends."
Well, needless to say, that shut her up. And it was all thanks to the power of the Dark Lord.
Straight Forward Post #1 - The UCB Theatre
So this will be my first post where I don't skew the "facts" with the power of flight or one-eyed subway dwellers. It had to happen eventually. This is my first straight forward blog entry. Plus, nothing at all happened at work today, so....
On Sunday night, I went with two friends (Jake and Melissa) to the UCB theatre, home of the outstanding comedy improv group Upright Citizens Brigade. The UCB was founded by Amy Pohler (now on SNL), Matt Besser, Ian Roberts (dance instructor in the film Bring It On
), and Matt Walsh. I first discovered them when their show debuted on Comedy Central. It was a half hour of some of the most hilarious sketch comedy I've ever seen. So, when I knew I was coming to New York, one of the things I wanted to do was to go and see a show at the UCB theatre.
We went to the free 9:00PM show of Asssssscat 3000, a title which may or may not have anything to do with anything. I wasn't sure if any of the original UCB members would be performing, but sure enough, Amy Pohler did perform, and it was awesome. Also performing was Seth Meyer, another cast member from SNL. I must admit that on SNL I don't think he's all that funny, but doing improv he is unbelievably good.
Well, the show was fantastic, and I hope to return many times during the next few months. I may even try and take an improv class there. Who knows. Upright Citizens Brigade kicks ass.
End of straight forward post #1.
Happy Chinese New Year! ... Get Your Traditional Chinese Designer Watch!
The Chinese New Year, the year of the rooster, is finally here. I know, I'm exhausted from the anticipation, too. Now we can all get back to life as usual; am I right?
I went with some friends down to Chinatown to see the New Year's parade. It was pretty impressive. Not that the floats or costumes were that decorative or elaborate, but seeing Chinatown for the first time, and getting a glimpse of the culture was fascinating. I got to see people in traditional Chinese dress, hear traditional Chinese music, and see groups perform traditional Chinese dances.
But the traditions didn't end there! After the parade was over, I got to see the floats taken down by traditional chinese union labor. There were 4 or 5 of them, all wearing Yankee hats. They had large guts, grizzled beards and goatees, and smoked. "I feel like I'm in Hong Kong!" I said excitedly.
As we walked down the street, we saw a number of traditional chinese vendors, selling anything you might want, straight from the Asian mother-country! One man carried what looked like ancient chinese manuscripts. One was called "Winnie the Pooh Coloring Book" and another was entitled "Pikachu Adventures." It all sounded so exotic! I felt like I was wandering a library in feudal China!
And it still didn't stop. Here's a list of other items I saw...
- Traditional Chinese $5-10 Designer Watches
- Traditional Chinese Gucci Bags
- Traditional Chinese Personalized Belts
- Traditional Chinese NYPD Hooded Sweatshirts
- Traditional Chinese Bootleg DVD's
Oh, what a time! I feel like, even though I've never been to China, it doesn't matter anymore, because a little bit of China was brought to me. Thanks, Chinese New Year parade!
Don't Go Shvitzin' About This Blog Entry
The Upper East side, where I am currently living, has a large Jewish population (as does New York in general). Not that there's anything wrong with that. It's actually quite interesting to get a glimpse of that culture.
Enter: Pizza Cave, a small pizza parlor on Lexington Avenue with brick oven pies that are incredibly cheap and incredibly delicious.
Being that it's located in a largely Jewish neighborhood -- which, for the record, is perfectly fine in every way -- Pizza Cave has to cater to a certain crowd. So, the menus also include Hebrew, there is Hebrew lettering on the signs, and I wouldn't be surprised if the pepperoni and sausage were actually ham-free.
Some people have noticed the similarity between the names Pizza Cave and Pizza Hut. Quite frankly, it's ridiculous to assume that Pizza Cave is in anyway trying to capitalize on the Pizza Hut name. Everyone knows that huts and caves are two very different types of dwellings. If Pizza Cave wanted to capitalize on the Pizza Hut name, they instead would have used any one of the following...
- Pizza Hovel
- Pizza Hutch
- Pizza Hoochie
And there are plenty more
where those came from. Little known fact: Pizza Hoochie is also a type of forbidden dance, whereby the female prances in a circle around the male, throwing dough, tomato sauce, and shredded cheese at him. The male can request other items to be thrown, but that of course will cost him extra.
-----END OF TANGENT-----
So, I took a trip to Pizza Cave, ordered myself a couple of slices, and sat down to watch the TV playing in the background. The program looked to be some kind of soap opera. But what was the language they were speaking? Was it Arabic? Turkish? No, it was Hebrew. It was a Hebrew soap opera -- which is absolutely acceptable in my mind.
The language can often be rather beautiful to hear, but then, it's interrupted by a weird, throaty sound. Phonetically, it looks something like "HCKKKK," but you have to pronounce it like you're hocking a loogey.
The soap opera I was watching was a perfectly normal program, with what I can assume was a perfectly normal plot, but that sound really distracted me. Imagine an American soap opera, but with that sound...
John, I know you've just had that brain
tumor removed, and you're in no condition
to support our telepathic son, but I'm
leaving you for Anthony.
Anthony? Our 21 year old gardener,
who moonlights as a private detective
and also has the figure of an amateur
Yes. I'm sorry.
Well, I'm sorry, too, Mary. What will we tell
our son, Cameron, when HCKKKK he's older?
What do you mean? We're HCKKKK going to
tell him HCKKKK the truth.
The truth? You mean that HCKKKK his
mother abandoned him like he was some
sort of HCKKKK garbage to be thrown
to the curb HCKKKK?!
Well, what do you want from me? Ever
since HCKKKK you discovered your twin
brother, the two of you HCKKKK have
been almost inseparable! You're never
HCKKKK around, John!
I had no idea it bothered you so much.
Well, it does.
Don't talk like that!
I'm sorry. I realize now that I haven't
been there HCKKKK enough for you and
Cameron. I hate myself for that.
It hurts us not to see you.
Well, you are blind. Remember?
The accident in HCKKKK Dr. Armstrong's
laboratory? The experime--
Of course, I remember! I meant
it hurts HCKKKK for us not being around you!
Oh, right. HCKKKK!
Oh, nothing. Just... something
stuck in my throat... HCKKKK!
N, R, W, 4, 5, S; That's The Way To Transit Success!
When I first began this internship, the route I took to work every morning was like this: I walked to 86th Street on Lexington Avenue and then boarded the 4 or 5 train. That took me to 42nd Street, also known as Grand Central. From there I would board the shuttle to Times Square, called the S. Then, I would exit the subway in Times Square and walk to 57th Street. It was roughly a 12 block walk, but I didn't mind; there's quite a bit to look at.
Since having the flu, and because of the weather being colder and windier, I've changed my route. The less time spent above ground the better.
So, with the help of Julie, my route now goes as follows: I walk to 86th Street and take the 4 or 5, as before, but instead get off at 59th Street. From there, I board the N, R, or W train, which takes me almost directly to 57th Street and Broadway. Nice, right?
The trade-off for taking the quicker N, R, W route is the horrible N, R, W smell. It's not like any place in New York smells particularly good, but this is pretty bad. And no wonder, it looks and feels like a dungeon. On my way home, to get to the 4 or 5 train, I have to make my way down to the absolute lowest levels. I once passed a sewer rat on my way down, and he was all, "Fuck that, dude."
Wednesday, on my way down, a hunchback carrying a torch caught me in the passageway. He only had one good eye, looked like Sloth from the film The Gooonies
, and he spoke somewhat like an educated pirate. "Looking for the Chamber of Secrets, are ye?" he asked.
"Um, no," I said. "I'm actually looking for the 4 or 5 express trains."
"Oh, well then," he said. "Let me give you some light; it's darker than shit down here." He led me down the maze of passageways, once in a while whispering, "These tunnels is evil, they is." We got to the platform and he tipped his hat to me, which was strange, because he wasn't wearing a hat before. He said, "This is where I'll leaves ye. By the way, you wouldn't happen to know where the Chamber of Secrets be, would ye?"
"No, sorry," I said.
"It's okay," he said. "You just get home safe."
"Thanks a lot, subway station hunchback!" I said. I waved to him as the train pulled away. Then, he pulled something from his pocket, threw it to the ground, and a cloud of smoke exploded all around him. And, with that, he was gone...
I'm just kidding. He was still there, and coughing pretty badly, too. Loud, violent hacking, really. Must have been the cloud of smoke. It was pretty embarrassing.
So, yeah. The N, R, W smells real bad.
Oh, The Characters I See!
From the moment I step out of my residence in the morning to the time I return again later that night, I am surrounded by some interesting characters. And they change everyday! I've kept a thorough mental list, but I won't bore you too much...
- Man with suit and sneakers
- Woman wearing fur coat as wide as her body is long
- The panhandlers who begin every ride with "Ladies and gentlemen..."
- Elderly woman who reaches top speed of .02 mph
- Woman with lipstick near eyes
- Musician with guitar, guitar case, and one song called, "Give Me A Dollar"
- Seller of pirated DVD's of films just recently released in theaters
- Buyer of pirated DVD's
- Young man with headphones and bobbing head which resembles a muscle spasm
- Old man with headphones and bobbing head which actually is a muscle spasm
- Person speaking language which sounds like Klingon
Obviously, I'm exaggerating a bit. I've never seen a woman with lipstick near her eyes. Tip of the nose, maybe. But I see these characters all over, and they all live in New York City together, like one big, happy... like one big family.
And the party doesn't stop when I get to work. I have an excellent view from the ninth floor. I can see everything. Today I saw a guy mug a woman in broad daylight. I felt bad, and I wished that I could have been there to do something about it. I can see the street vendors with their carts of high quality, not too mention visually appetizing, foods. I know if I ever need a bagel or a copy of She-Male
, that's the place to go. Of course, the bagels are day-old and the copies of She-Male
are probably months old. No thanks, street vendor; I'll stick with my up-to-date subscription.
Well, I have to go now, this guy in my office just totally mugged this woman in broad daylight! Lets see what kind of sweet loot he got!
1 Of 2 Security ID's
The main Viacom building is located at 1515 Broadway, right in the middle of Times Square. Comedy Central is stationed roughly 12 blocks from there. While I don't really need a security ID for the Viacom building, we're required to get one. Plus, it allows me access to, essentially, the entire building, which may pay off someday while I'm here. So today, not working or having very much to do, I went down to Times Square to get it done.
I passed through security and took the elevator to the necessary floor. By the way, it's the strangest thing to ride an elevator alone with a woman you've never met and attempt to look non-threatening. Like, "I know I'm male and I fit the description of most criminals, but I promise, I'm harmless. I don't want to mug or kill you." Wouldn't it be funny if she was thinking, "One more floor, then grab this chump's wallet and run like hell."
Anyway, I got my picture taken, finally. I asked the woman taking the ID photos to let me try a second photo, because I was sure that I could reach into the depths of my soul and muster the strength for a better face. But apparently not. What you see is
in fact the second try.
[Just imagine the picture]
Granted, I had just gotten up 45 minutes earlier, and had ridden the subway for a half hour, but there's no reason I should look like a burn victim. Well, I don't look burned; I look more like a burn victim just as he is starting to get his life back together. You know, you think you can still see hints of horrific scars, but maybe the person isn't a burn victim at all, and they simply woke up with weird pillow imprints on their face? That's me.
So now I have security ID 1 of 2. Not the one I need, but hey, life's quirky.
...and also stupid.