Tuesday, December 20, 2011

The Unemployment Diaries -Episode 4

HO HO HO, OH OH OH, Why is this Zombie eating my toe (better there than on my face...book) ? AM I right? 


So we would like to apologize for being like the guy that doesn't call after you finally have intercourse in his parent's Buick.  We were trying to re-group last week so we could film the Christmas episode and get a head start on some more episodes.

 It's not easy being such a small crew, with so many limitations. But we are trying. We realize that even if there are only two people who are excited about this show every week, it's totally worth it. So please forgive us for our absence last week.  We hope you enjoy this bizarre, but quirky, charming, but  not really charming little episode we have concocted.




Special thanks to Bryant Vance for being born mostly, but also for giving us the gift of our very own theme song! It's the most fantastic thing to get stuck in your head. I mean, next to The Blood Hound Gang's song, The Bad Touch of course. 

Everyone at Poo Pies (both of us) wish you a very, berry Christmas (even if they are not in season).  Try to enjoy this time with your families. And be kind to each other. And have a little faith people. And the threat of a zombie Apocalypse.


Until then, please enjoy this  Bad Touch/ Christmas song mash-up on us!

Sing us out, boys:

And a one, and a two, and a ...You and me baby ain't nothing but jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the love the kind you clean up with a mop and bucket, oh what fun it is to ride please turn me on I'm  Mr. Coffe with an automatic drip, so show me yours I'll show you mine in a one horse open sleighhhhhhh. etc...

Over and Out:kshh
-Michelle J

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

The Unemployment Diaries -Episode 3

The third Episode is up ( like your bf's... toilet seat) !

 Check it out. Ask it out. Pay for dinner.



Thank you for watching! And remember these videos make great stocking stuffers for friends and family. Especially if their stockings are computers, smart phones, ipads, or smart televisions.

Over and Out: kshh
-Michelle J





Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Episode 2- The Unemployment Diaries

Originally, we made such an epically long pilot episode, we had to split it into two shows. So all the following episodes should be substantially shorter than the first two. Which is fine, because we all know the universal motto "Shorter is better". Or, wait...

If you like it, please share it. If people can preach scream about fire and damnation from street-corners like they're hookers with tourettes(or they just had a really bad burrito), then sharing this video webily  through social media outlets should be a cake. A real piece.

Here is part 2 of Last week's episode, "Jobs Jobs Jobs, Steve":



Over and Out: kshh
-Michelle J

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

The Unemployment Diaries --Pilot Episode

Can someone give me a hoo-ha? This episode is finished and as out as Adam Lambert, and his boyfriend, and his boyfriend (That's a lot of friendly boys).

I hope you enjoy it as much as we did when we first watched it weeks ago. And by now, we've had all the noodle references we can handle. Post traumatic stress disorder really has no boundaries, as we have found via a case of the jumpity-jump-jumps and spasms shakes, with the mere mention of anything al dente.


If you like this video, don't be bashful. We've seen you naked through the clear-glass shower door (don't think your angled posture was fooling anybody), so feel free to share this with the world [wide web]. And your mom. And the mail man (who you just so happen to resemble. a lot).


Over and Out:kshh
-Michelle J

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Let's Eat Some Low-Fat Snookies. That Wasn't a Lesbian Reference.

Do you ever have those moments where you laugh out loud at something, slap your knees (akin to how you could still slap your child in the nineties), and choke on your over-cooked quiche--all at once? I call that Tuesday.

And this past Monday's edition of the New York Post printed a short article about Snooki's recent weight loss. The article suggested that now she is a "low-fat meatball". And I lost it.
Much like she lost her v-card in the ball-pit at her thirteenth birthday party:



It even inspired me to make my own meatballs tonight: 48 Snookies in all.

Gotta love those meatball metaphors.

Over and Out:kshh
-Michelle J


Now if they had only included a low-fat snooki recipe...Yes, it would have been over the top (of a cliff) Thelma and Louise style, but I would have thoroughly enjoyed dissecting it.
With my tongue. (What, I still need to appeal to  my lesbian audience:Hank.)

Monday, November 14, 2011

Promo--The Unemployment Diaries

Hey remember when I was being sketchy and vague about a "project" I was working on in the name of the poo and the pies? I finally have proof that I haven't been prostituting my pillow-pets to fetish groups and slaughterhouses.

Here's the promo to my new sit-down comedy, "The Unemployment Diaries". It's a Poo Pies Original web series. We figured we would start out small and eventually we will work our way up to the classier comedies/web series-sitcoms with legit actors and a bigger crew. And by "we", I mean me and the voices in my head.






If you like this promo--share it, tweet it, blog it, fb it, bop it--whatever you are into. And if you don't like it, that's okay too. I mean...nobody's perfect, right?

Over and Out: kshh
-Michelle J

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Screw Good Music, I Just Want to Dance Like a Drunk Princess in Heat!


Remember when Coldplay was a legit band and you weren't embarrassed to say that you listen to their music?  Yeah, me neither. But I have to admit they sounded/presented themselves with a little more dignity in the past. And I was a bit of a fan during their, "Yellow" days.

Last night Coldplay dazzled bedazzled the SNL stage with two songs from their latest album, Mylo Xyloto. The second song they performed, "Every Teardrop is a Waterfall", Chris Martin danced around the stage like Tinkerbell with one of her wings slashed off. I spent a couple of eye-brow furrowed minutes wondering if I was witnessing an awkward tween sexual awakening, or if he was in fact having a stroke on live television.

I guess we know who will not be asked to join next season's, Dancing with the Stars, cast:





If you think this is worse than aborting a hotpocket via your bowels, you owe me a round of high fives. Until then...

Over and Out:kshh
-Michelle J

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Tuesday is a Cheap Call Girl's Lap Dog

1. I'm feeling a bit like the negligent mother that leaves her baby in the care of a three-legged hooker at Sea World while she scours the place for half-priced nachos. 
(God bless imagery, metaphor and it's incestuous cousin, simile. They take me places)

I need to keep up with this blog. If only I could ascertain some kind of literary/writerly Viagra-- because we've all read those stupid high school classroom, motivational posters that say, "It's easier to keep up, than catch up"-- and they are annoyingly accurate. I'm so far behind, that I wouldn't come close to mounting the previous post even if it bent over to pick up a box of spilled crayons (the 24 pack) and I had a King Kong ding-dong  .

This post is more of a Curious George peenie baby. And with that I have some points to barely penetrate:

2.  I spent a couple of days last week working on a project of the Poo-Pies persuasion. However, it seems there is still more work left for the rest of this week. This project  definitely has potential, and if it works out in the ways that I hope, it will be such a relief. But there is so much room for this to crash and burn like a syphilis infested penis. And  since I am such a perfectionist, that may very well happen. So keep your legs crossed for me, Hank. I am sorry if what I'm saying sounds bisexual confusing.

3. This video made me laugh out loud at the Gym. I looked like that idiot-- with the deep-throat, sardonic laugh--cackling by herself on the bikes. As in, no one else was in my quadrant of the gym to deflect such an embarrassing outburst. And this is coming from the girl that falks on the treadmill (or maybe it would be a case of the funs?).

I'm not saying that I don't like the song, because it certainly has it's charms, but this video is hilarious because it's true.

















3. Even though I had more points to make, I am wildly exhausted. I heard you can catch the sleepies from a toilet seat though. So we can all stop blaming the monkeys for everything at the moment. All the more reason to layer your throne with obsessively compulsive amounts of toilet paper and Lysol.

I am making so many dollas but no cents.


"Need to go, need t-a go!"- Bon Qui Qui

Over and Out:kshh
-Michelle J

P.S. Don't forget to check back for updates on said project. And if you have short term memory loss from a degenerative neurological illness, that's okay, don't feel bad. Just  try to write yourself a sticky (Note that is). Or tattoo this post to your body like in the movie Memento. Also, don't forget to turn off the stove before you leave your house.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

"Deborah Says Don't Smoke, Stupid!" It's Tuesday


Sometimes, I am an idiot. And it is usually in the shower. I suppose normal people sing in the shower, or bathe if that's your thing, I --on the other hand--let the voices come out of my head and unhinge me.

Last week while I was testing out some of my voices, I was reminded of those old anti-tobacco/ smoking commercials where they used testimonials of how smoking ruined different lives. These were real people,not actors, and they usually had a hole in their throats and spoke in a deep, raspy voice while they smoked from their neck-holes.

Well, this is my improvised, parody version of one of those commercials. I originally made it so I could practice using my editing software (which I never use), but the short is so stupid, some people think I need to share it.

The video is unlisted on YouTube so you can only access it through this link:



I know the credit says it's "written by" me but that is just because "improvised by" looked like a real dummy. I don't want to deceive anyone, "written by" should really be saved for an actual well-developed craft. So in your minds think "improvised by michelle j" when you watch the lying white words flash by your dead-eyes stare. You don't let them fool you, son! Mama ain't raise no fool!
But she did raise a dead-eyed hooker, so there's that.

Welp, I hope your Tuesday is as ridiculous as mine! And hopefully you saved a few, "what the....whats?" for this video.

Over and Out:kshh
-Michelle J


Saturday, August 27, 2011

Me, Myself, a Midget Mummy, and Irene

1. It's been awhile: Like a month of what felt like August's grit clogging my abilities to write about anything funny. Which is sad because life is so stinking hilarious
and then you die.

2. Also, I've been reading a bit too much of an Young-Adult Fiction series where people fight to the death, hunt their own food, and live in a very imaginable third-world, dystopian future, so perhaps that has made things a bit macabre to say the least.

However, it should be known that these books have inspired me a bit: I have taken a liking to the bow-and-arrow (survival archery) and in the past week, I have successfully shot and killed a loaf of bread, a few stray bananas, and a bag of Trader Joes' Turkey Jerky for my family. They are really proud.

And with Irene now rearing her ugly, black head (like the break-outs, not like a racist way of referring to the Americans that listen to rap music don't need to wear sunblock), my parents are even more proud that I can finally contribute to the household, and in such extreme times.

And today I provided a horrendous amount of Chinese food for my family. Although I did not shoot the food with a bow-and arrow. Just the delivery boy.

3. Yesterday my mother had her surgery, which meant I was up at 4:00 a.m. after I had gone to bed at 2.  I felt like a farmer. In the confusion, I tried to milk my pillow pet. Who else gets up that early?

I sat around in the same waiting room for 8 hours. And it felt like the universe was trying to milk me. But that was mostly because I drank so much coffee that gravity was was tickling my Gallbladder.

For eight hours, I watched families come and go, I watched really awkwardly shaped people herded in to be prepped for surgery like cattle, I watched a lot of merciless CNN stories on a loop, much like my bowels. I watched my mother's surgeon make bad jokes before her surgery, and then worse ones when he came to speak to me after the procedure, I watched a lot of pages with words, I watched the bottoms of many cups of coffee( they were all white!) I watched the receptionist ask me to answer the phone for her while she stepped out to track down a family, I watched my dad being interviewed for a trade-magazine, I watched nothing and everything.

And then I died.

4. I don't think this is technically a separate point, but it makes the end of point three more poignant, and possibly ridiculous, if I end it on such a staggering, staccato note

(Always a b fart. I mean flat) .

My mother's surgeon told me my mom would be bandaged up pretty tautly, and demonstrated this with his arms stretching out slightly arched, but flatly, as if he were reaching out for me to hug him. Or something. He told me I would probably need to feed her among other things over the next few days.

Of course this gave me sadistic ideas--or jokes depending on your sense--my favorite idea was to wrap my mom up with toilet paper, with her arms already bandaged and stretching outward, and then take her for a stroll down a cemetery at night.

I may have a sixth sense of humor ( I just made a META PUN!), but I think that imagery is so funny. So did my mom while she was flying a kite on pain killers. (That was metaphorical even though her arms are already in the position I suppose)

5. It's time to go wrestle Irene. She is lubed up in the mud pit, and I am as dry as...I normally am on a Saturday night.

Be safe. Wear protection. Enter her with Caution. And disinfectant.

Over and Out:kshh
-Michelle J

Monday, July 25, 2011

Drowning Lessons

It's no secret that I have been teaching private swim lessons for the past six summers. This is where I drive to a client's house and give swim lessons in his/her pool and charge by the half-hour. Other than high-end call girls with lots of roll over minutes (in the bed), I'm not sure who else makes their money that way.

I spent today teaching some of my favorite kids in the world. These are the kids that laugh at my jokes, say the funniest, most sarcastic quips and usually think they are going to drown during the lesson. There's nothing funnier than a kid floating past me nonchalantly screaming, "I'm going to drown!", followed by a deep,sinister laugh. Nothing is funnier.
Unless, of course, there was a Helen Keller puppet that dated Elmo. That might just do it.

At the end of the lesson, the cutest three-year old girl, grabbed me by the waist, looked me in the belly-button, and whispered that she loves me with all her heart and soul. As funny as it was, I don't think anyone I've dated has ever loved me that passionately.

And you know what? 
Part of me wishes she was twenty years older. And not blonde.

Over and Out: Sigh...
-Michelle J

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Poo Pies Presents it's First Original Short!



Thanks to a recent addition to the Poo-Pie's staff, we now can offer our services to some shorts! The digital video kind, not the shorts you have to put on one leg (or peg) at a time.

This Michelle J Original Short is at times, infuriating. Like in biblical times when a hooker was called a "harlot" instead of a "hooker", or when people pulled their hair out and tore their shrouds (and possibly groins) when someone died. Or if they slept with the wrong, and uglier, woman on their wedding night of consummation--infuriating.

But this joke is supposed to be long and languishing. That's what makes the joke work. So please don't wander off too far; watch the whole video. There is an end in sight, I promise. (Unless you are Helen Keller)

Thanks be to Jess, for all her merciless video editing, and for designing the new blog banner, while I furiously  slurped iced-coffee over her shoulder. If that's not great micro-managing, I don't know what is. Seriously, what is it?

Over and Out:kshh
-Michelle J

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Thirsty Thursday

1. I don't work at Loews. Just in case we happen to be at the same one, during the same time. And you mistake my royal blue shirt as a red, mesh uniform vest.

 How hilarious that one youg woman, came up to me while I was sitting at the little desk in front of the appliance customer service counter. Let me make myself clear: I was not sitting behind the desk, I was sitting at one of the two chairs in front of the desk, designed for customers to sit and browse through the thickly binded catalog (in unabridged dictionary fashion). I was sitting there with my purse and car keys scattered precariously on the table, flipping through appliances while the salesman followed my mother to get a reference number of a refrigerator we were looking at. And eventually purchased.

During that brief moment a young (like my age or younger) woman accompanied by her mother approached me like we were mid conversation. It was possibly the equivalent of being verbally jumped sans cables. Or maybe she had cables.

She started hurriedly explaining the type of refrigerator they were looking for and wondered if we had anything like that. And since I had spent a half hour prior familiarizing myself with the appliances in stock, I showed them a few stainless steel units with french doors and informed them that every refrigerator is 10 % off including the ones already at a clearance price.

And the best part was when they asked if I worked on commission and I told them no, but someone that works here does. And then I walked away, while their jaws fought gravity and I heard the mom say something to the effect of, "See, I saw her car keys on the table and her purse." And the daughter replied, "I thought she was just chillin".

2. It was so hot today, the albinos were sweating as much as those wrestlers that wear parkas while on the cardio machines the gym. See, Hank, I was creative enough to not use any racial comparisons. Which, by the way, something referred to as a "racial simile" does not sound as crass or off-putting as a "racial slur". Also, a usable term and possibly inappropriate, but manages to warm my heart, racial slurpee.

3. Why is it that the floors of Famous Daves are always sticky? What are the workers doing in there when they open the restaurant? I almost don't want to think about it because I love their sides of macaroni and cheese so much (baked with jalapeno and corn mixed in) and their sweet and zesty sauce. Although, if the workers are getting sweet and zesty in there when the doors are closed and my back is turned, I do not want to know. Especially since 90% of the employees are men. And there are deer heads hanging on the walls.

There is a time and a place for all things sexy, creepy, and  furry handcuffs but surrounded by deer heads and hunting paraphernalia around bbq sauces called"the Devil' Spit", is not...well, actually now that I think about it, this sounds a lot like a weird porno one of your close friends would be in without telling you. So your husband watches her flick, finds out she's bucking the taxidermy deer with her pseudo-ram horns, and doesn't say anything because then you will know his weird fetish porn habits. 

Only, now he's watched your friend do weird things on weird things and all he can do is avoid eye contact with said friend every time he sees her! or him. This is obviously me being objective here. I don't even have a husband. In this country.

4. Check out the Google sign today! It is designed like a guitar to celebrate Les Paul's birthday! And the best part is that you can strum the google sign and it makes music. So if you can't afford an expensive, but beautiful, Les Paul guitar, this might be the next (well, next, next, next next, next) best thing.

5. I am so tired, I need a pick-me-up. I think I'll just drive around to antique stores, consignment shops, estate sales, and garage sales to see if anyone is selling their emmy. Then I will purchase it with some food stamps/tramp stamps and hang it on my shelf of other people's emmy's, grammys, tonys, nobel peace prizes, purple hearts, oscars, and hot dog eating competition trophies, and I will stare at all my accomplishments until I pass out into a deep slumber.

Then I will wake up from the thunderstorm, make myself a snack, and flip through the channels for shows like, "The Devil Wears Nada", " The Girls first Lesbian Girlfriend" (as if there is any other kind of girlfriend for a girl) and, "Pawn Stars" (which is actually just about a family owned pawn shop on the History Channel, but still very enjoyable to watch. God I love that Chumlee! Especially during the Christmas episode where he dresses up as an elf--he's just the cutest, chubby, unmotivated idiot --I want to adopt him for my stuffed animal collection).

What I love about--well, my motivation for telling you all this: Some of you out there in the matrix of the web, don't know if I am kidding or not. And who am I to spoil it for you?

Until next time...

Over and Out:kshh
-Michelle J

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Scotch and Soda? It's Tuesday Somewhere...

1. After church this past Sunday, I decided to read some brochures while I waited for my mom to finish her social rounds. So there I was, leaning against a table in the foyer, reading my newly found brochures, very unabashed. Very pubic public:

What do you expect, this is me here. I have no shame flipping through these during the after church mass exodus/ fellowship (it's like a battleship but  with a smaller dingy) B6,F4,D8.
Okay, I thought it was funny.


2. I have recently fallen in love (of course the imagery that evokes is a little girl falling into a well and then dying because nobody ever finds her and she downs in rat urine) Anyway, it's already Tuesday, and I have fallen in a big ditch of love, and I can't get up. (insert dying bug moves)

First the sad news, and inevitable tangent that will prolong the revealing of my semi-new found love:

The clothing store, Metro Park, has closed! They went bankrupt. Probably because they sell expensive clothes in a very jewish area. I am of course very sad because they were a portal to my favorite designer jeans like Diesel and Rock and Republic (Since I don't have those stores near me), without the Nordstroms incredulous up-sale on every pair (which they buy wholesale for cheap. let's be honest)

The only good thing that came out of this bankruptcy was the closing sale! Which yesterday was at 90% off....of the lowest marked price! Not even from the original price. They didn't  have many girls clothing left but they had a lot of nice men's clothing. So..duntatuntada....my boyfriend has a new wardrobe. ahahahhahahahahaha. I'm not joking. 
Either, I'm the worlds best girlfriend, or I have a serious buying-things-for-people-problem ( I'm going to go with the latter).

The best buys of the day were a few Scotch and Soda shirts in his size for ten dollars each! Madness. they are normally sold for $100 each. Even though, there was a nice oxford shirt I literally bought for $2, the Scotch and Soda finds were the the clear winners.

Why does this little juggernaut, Scotch and Soda, have so much of a hold over me?
Because I've been obsessed with the label, that's why! Because Scotch and Soda Amsterdam Couture is what I would call, the European equivalent of J-Crew, but way classier. These clothes are beautifully made to have that hand crafted look: From the stitching, to the tags to the small details in each item of clothing that separates it from anything else in it's equivocal style.

The label has a "tailored for perfect fit" motto, which is perhaps why every shirt size runs smaller than normal. So If you are a tall man, and normally wear a large, you would literally move up one or most likely two sizes (to an xl or a xxl). They have some skinny men over there in the Netherlands.

Within the past two years, Scotch and Soda started a woman's line called "Maison Scotch La femme Selon Marie". The label was originally started as just a men's company in the 80's then it was renovated after three new owners appeared in 2001. Though the women's line has become very successful, and there are over 30 Scotch and Soda retail locations world wide, there are fewer stores that carry both men and women's clothing. They also have boys and girls lines.


This is one of the Scotch and Soda shirts I bought for the Bf.Can you see the dark blue pocket square? It came with a different shirt but I stuffed it in this one like it was the abyss between a turkey's legs. Also, like my bra.



3 Tonight, I had dinner with the Brooklyn-born writer, Karen Riley. Something about her accent was charming as was her general zest for writing her passions. And her general zest for chicken parm. 

Riley has published four books altogether. Her first three books are about the New Jersey Pine Barrens that are rather astounding. Her five years of research really shows that she has compiled one of the most accurate accounts of the enormous land's history. If you are familiar with New Jersey, you have heard of the Pine Barrens, even if you do not know much about them. It is supposed to be the area that the Jersey Devil dwells. Gotta love that folklore.

If your initial assumption is that the Pine Barrens are a group of women that can't have children because they have repeatedly acted on their weird fetish for pine trees, you are probably right.

But for all intensive purposes, and legal reasons, I am obligated to suggest that The Pine Barrens are actually: 1.1 or so  million acres of land that stretch across 7counties and 52 municipalities in New Jersey. It makes up 22% of the state. This is a historical area heavy laden with 17 trillion gallons of pure water underneath, bog iron, acidic land for cranberries and blueberries to flourish. There are still ghost towns left as remnants of early colonists: glassblowers, saw mills, paper mills, cranberry bogs, grape juice factories etc.

It was a place where the dentist, Dr. Thomas Welch lived and became the first person to pasteurise grape juice (Welches grape juice anyone?).
John. L. Mason patented his airtight jar and  set up a manufacturing plant in Vinelands, NJ (Part of the Pine Barrens). It is seeping with little historical nuggets.

Riley's third book was published through the national distributor, Arcadia Publishing. Arcadia produces those series of books based of certain towns throughout the United States. You might have seen one in your local Barnes and Noble. It might say something akin to, "Images of America: Insert Your Town Here". It's the one with the Sepia colored cover featuring some very old looking photograph.Generally a photograph of the town, taken a century or so prior.

Throughout the dinner, Riley freely proffered some very useful advice about publishing, stringing for newspapers, general writing groups to join, and how to avoid being smacked by a nun from the christian brothers school teaching method. It seems that both Sister Acts and "Flying Nuns" with Sally Fields, did not portray nuns accurately. It was more of a  genre Chuck Norris/ Jackie Chan wearing a habbit kind of movie that never got made. Basically, she explained everything she learned the hard way. I also found out how much the publishing industry is changing for the worse (worse for the authors). 

Now many publishers, including the "Big Five" are doing little marketing on each author's book. I suppose with globalization and now the very easy-to-use social media outlets, marketing falls largely on the author. What the what!?

For many of the regional, and even national publishers, the author is now given a minimum of books he/she has to buy in advance and out of pocket. This is thousands of dollars out of the author's pocket because publishers are wary of printing books in a rapidly digital age.

If I already hated Kindle, Nook , iPad( well just the books for it), and  e-books before, I really hate them now with the fire of ten burning genitals! Because of the growth in digital books, the sales in bookstores has decreased. There's a reason why your local Borders has gone out of business. This is something I have feared for three years now, when I first wrote an article about the Amazon Kindle in my college newspaper.

Even though it seems that Barnes and Noble has maintained equilibrium,and maybe a few mom and pop bookstores, many publishers are still too frightened to take any risks. And thus,a vaguely familiar, though less dystopian (until China takes over), Fahrenheit 451 syndrome is taking a shape (most likely a rhombus.Triangles are a little too slutty). If only there were a way to give this technology some type of std or genital wart, then people would flee to the mountains where they buried their books.

It was a very pleasant evening, despite finding out the nuns were actually responsible for beating Rodney King and consequently, the original inventors of pinatas and I was very grateful that Riley spent so much time (four hours) discussing all things writing and sweating over some  pasta fagioli soup and our respective chicken dishes ( make no mistake, I Swat as well just not visibly). She also gave me a signed copy of her third book!

You can purchase any of Karen Riley's books @ http://karenfriley.net/


4. New Show idea. Possibly cartoon, possibly documentary:Ninja Terdles.
Tag line: "It's about time your poop fought back."

So  whether turtle or terdle these ninjas will still dwell underneath the sewers! And they will probably still eat an obese amount of pizza. So which Ninja Terdle are you?

"Kowabunga, Dude!"

Over and Out:kshh
-Michelle J


Wednesday, June 1, 2011

What the Tuesday, It's Wednesday?

My life is a mess, kiddies.

I just realized that I only have twenty-nine days to feign brilliance and submit to a writing program that starts this fall. Twenty-nine days of construction! And I need to collaborate with my writing partner, if I still have one, and that stuff is way harder than writing by myself. She's also in a completely different city/state,if you were wondering why that would be harder than writing solo.
Maybe (most likely) nothing will come of this, but there is something to be said and done for women in comedy:





Okay, maybe that's the problem: There is not much be said about female comedians, and there are a lot of unknown, brilliant women writers: Kay Cannon, Paula Pell, The girl that co-wrote Bridesmaids with Kristin Wiig etc. Tina Fey constantly speaks out (in her book) about her theory for women comedians/actors: She thinks they only have jobs so long as men( specifically network/movie executives) are willing to sleep with them.


But it is probably true in most cases. How many men, can honestly say that they have women comedians they love/look up too(not because these men are midgets), and have sincere respect for them (looks aside)? With the exception of my boyfriend, not many.

When I think about it,  I am a woman (usually), and I only really have one female stand-up (apparently,some of them kneel) comedian that I truly love: Whitney Cummings. Well, Wanda Sykes too.

Tangent:
I jsut found out thatI'm lexdicsec Today, I found out that Whitney Cummings is getting her own sit-com on NBC this fall! The show is called, Whitney. It's named after her! I think the fact that it is loosely based off her comedy/life is wonderful. It may follow the same success as other sitcoms based on the comic's life with his/her name in the show's title: Seinfeld, Everybody Loves Raymond, Ellen, George Lopez , Jerry Springer etc.

Whitney show preview:




A clip from her stand-up, Money Shots:


End Tangent

The movie Bridesmaids was brilliant if you have not seen it, Hank! It's not a chic-flic; It's a full-fledged comedy! It was co-written by Kristin Wiig, from snl, who also starred in the movie along with Maya Rudolph, former snl cast member. The jokes were brilliant, and do not just cater to women.
That's what is wonderful about  the snl comedians( and many up-coming women writers in general), they are telling jokes that appeal to everyone, especially, the hard-to-please, men.

As Tina Fey once loosely said( she was wearing yoga pants),"Women [Specifically Amy Poehler] writers/comics are not trying to be cute." (Again, that was a loose paraphrase that I decided to put in quotations for more authority)
They're telling the fart/ sex/ fart during sex jokes just like everyone else.

 I haven't seen The Hangover 2 yet, but I already have a feeling Bridesmaids is a funnier movie. And Hangover 2 already broke a gazillion records for the box-office records last weekend. Men are funny but sometimes women are funnier and not all men find that acceptable.

Bridesmaids Movie Trailor 1:



Bridesmaids Movie Trailor 2:



Sometimes I fantasize about being a pioneer for women in comedy, and then I think about the show , Little House on the Prairie, and that shit is depressing.

Still, here's a little something I threw together (what this old thing?) I wrote as a sort of PSA for women in comedy, so that one day it will just be, comedy (just like one day, there will be no more distinction between white and black people, there will only be tan people).

This PSA is a dialogue between me and a female comedian. Maybe Kristin Wiig, maybe Whitney Cummings, maybe Tina Fey, maybe a former Real-House Wives reality star from the battered women's shelter:


Me: Hi, I'm Michelle J, I am representing, women, writers, jokes, Mexicans, and yeast infections.

FC(Female Comedian): Hi I am ----- ----- ,actor, comedian, woman. Some people wear crosses around their necks as a way to show reverence for their religious foundation. I carry this tampon around my neck to remind me where my roots are. And to remind myself that no matter how much back hair I grow, I still have a vagina.

Me: And I carry this brick around with me to remind me of my ethnic heritage. Also, this red mustache.
(beat)

------ ------ is not just a woman, she's not just an actor, she's also a writer, colleague, friend, mother, and sex doll.

FC: (nodding) Wait, what?

Me: I'm kidding. You're hardly a sex doll; you never look surprised.

FC:You've probably heard of many organizations that cater solely to women.

Me: Like Women on Women

FC:(shakes her head) You mean Women for Women (beat)

We are not from any particular women's organization, but we are trying to gain support for women in comedy.(beat)

we are here to tell you that women are warriors.

Me: Like Atilla the Hun. He was actually a woman.

FC: (confused) You know he raped and pillaged half of Eastern Europe, right?

Me: Some women have more needs than others.

 (pause)

If you look throughout history, there were many powerful women.

FC: Oprah

Me: Even before Oprah

FC: Oprah's mom

Me: Even before that

FC: Joan of Arc

Me: She got burned. and there's nothing powerful about a Yankee Candle.


I already received two questions about this, one of them from Hank. Yes, I made this (badly). I would've cited the source otherwise. Now can I get a capiche salad ova heeaa? ok, that was bad. cuz, capiche is a play on a caprese insalata...yeah, not so much.



(Long Pause)

Hitler. Hitler was actually a woman.

FC: (exasperated) What?

Me: Think about a lot of those East German women that competed at the Olympics back in the day. Hitler was just a woman on mild steroids.

FC: That would explain the awkward stash. Who just grows a patch under his nose? (beat) Any women comedians before Oprah's time?

Me: Joan Rivers.
(beat)
And Helen Keller.She was the female Will Ferrell. They both think yelling is hilarious.

End PSA


Welp, that's it for right now, folks.

I hope you support women, much like the bra your man really should be wearing would support him. We gotta stick together akin to a honey-filled lesbian porno. Even you, Hank.

Over and Out:kshh
-Michelle J

Sunday, May 22, 2011

I Hope You Remembered the Kool-aid, Brother, Cuz Your Congregation is Going to be Pissed on Sunday

Disclaimer:This is the only thing I have somewhat salvaged from the car wreck that is yesterday's post. You can see that if this was point number 5 in my list (which it was), that the post was inherently lengthy. I wrote this yesterday along with all the other missing points. But, I had this saved in a word doc. (the lucky bastard) If only I had done the same to the rest. Sigh again..


I wonder what this guy is doing right now. This Prophet, that
thinks the world will end today, May 21, 2011
at approximately 6:00 pm. Though
the actual time zone seems to be a bit unclear.

I wonder if this man is married and has a family.

I wonder if  they are  sitting in their living room, holding
hands in their bubble-wrap suits, trying to be still
as their neighborhood bustles with cars and children.

Do they listen to the clink of a metal bat
hitting something of value? The yelling
and cheering from some light-hearted sand-lot ball? The Whir of
the fire-truck's mating call echoing throughout the canyon?
I'm sure that cat won't jump without blaming you first.

Are they all trying to scratch the itch on their
upper thighs, shuffling uncomfortably
 in their sealed suits, while they wait for the rocket-ship
to take them to Uranus? They will probably need helmet’s too
if they are preparing to enter the Lord’s bowels.

And possibly ear-plugs.

Do they think they are like Noah?
The way he was, ridiculed, laughed at
for warning the people the flood would consume them.

For mocking him while he constructed his ark. One beam
at a time.

One son at a time.

It is ten minutes until the Lord comes for his people
the sky is quiet, but blanketed, thick
like a dark sheath, waiting for the knife to unhinge
and strike the earth.

or it's just Bon Qui Qui with a steak knife.


The clouds move slowly, with holes spreading
in the underbelly of it’s thicket

The bluest sky swims behind it.  It’s subtle but you know it’s there.
It’s light is akin to looking into the opposite end
of a telescope.

The trees are erect, their leaves
pointing toward heaven, in hallelujah fashion, waiting
to welcome something.

or it’s just going to storm soon.

If I am going to leave the earth in five minutes,
I am going to write my way into heaven.
And possibly take a bathroom break sometime soon.
It’s not polite to enter His presence full of shit.


The breeze ruffles my hair softly, and yet
everything is still
like hushed breathes
during an asthma attack.

The Lord is everywhere.

He doesn’t need billboards, radio, and television publicity
to announce his exact return.

He will catch you off-guard:
while you are reading on the toilet,
while you are shaking the baby like a magic 8-ball
while you are watching an episode of Jersey Shore.

The Lord is funny that way.

We are a trashy reality show that
the Lord can’t stop watching
because the angels broke His Tivo.




BOO!

"Girl, I will CUT you."