I am discovering it’s far easier to dig up old stuff and post it than it is to create new material. To that end, please enjoy this old video I did with Josh Jensich, Shawn Greenson and Ben Freiburger called Continuity Cops.
I just stumbled across this web page that links to my All New Year project. It was in spanish, so I had it translated via Babel Fish. This is the poorly-translated result:
There’s more stuff coming up like more Drunk Flowers, more Taco Tuesdays, and a video of my neices singing about how much they love me (because I made them). But for now, please enjoy this graph I made the other day in my boredom. If you click on it, you can vote for it, it may get on the GraphJam website, which apparently means something to somebody somewhere.
One of the things about being a comedy writer that’s unusual is that occasionally, I’ll dream about comedy writing. And occasionally, I’ll wake up, and remember the joke that I have written. Today was such a day, and here is what I wrote:
A man was walking down a beach which represented his life. As he walked along, he noticed two sets of footprints behind him. Jesus appeared to him and said, “Those footprints are mine, for I am with you always.”
The man continued a way, and then looked again, and noticed that for the hardest parts of his life, there were only one set of footprints. “Lord, where were you during those times? Why was I all alone?”
The Lord turned to the man and said, “During those difficult times, son, that is when I carried you.”
The man felt ashamed and continued along the beach. A short time later, he looked again, and again saw only one set of footprints, but these footprints were unusually square and large. “Lord,” the man said, “are those again times when you carried me?”
“No,” Said Jesus, “I got tired of carrying you, so I made a sweet-ass robot to carry us both.” And with that the three of them went off to battle the Decepticons.
I should have told you before. When I write a joke in my dreams, it rarely makes sense.
Last year, the genii at Tomorrows Brightest Minds asked that me and my improv buddy Jason Frederick do some voices for a PSA. Voices of drunk flowers. And they also insisted that in order to do these voices, we should get good and drunk in the audio booth. So we stood in a tiny booth, doing tequilla shots and pretending to be flowers. In a career of weird jobs, it was one of the weirdest.
Why do I bring this up? Well, because there may be another drunk flower ad coming up (watch for it, residents of Denver!) using more audio from that session. And because I’m teaming with the TBM guys again to shoot another video tomorrow. No drinking this time, just a lust for brains: apparently I’ll be made up to look like a zombie. I’m very excited. I’ll try to take a lot of photos.
As many (if not all) of you know, I spent the last year and a half of my life working on an animated show called Lil’ Bush. It was a great job - one that would probably still be going on if our subject matter weren’t heading out of office with a popularity rating roughly the same as chlamydia and scary clowns.
Our most popular character, by far, was the child version of Dick Cheney. Voiced by the show creator Donick Cary, Lil’ Cheney was an evil little bastard who spoke in a series of grumbles and barely-audible words.
Recently, while engaged in Project Try Not To Go Crazy In Unemployment By Reorganizing My Whole Apartment, I stumbled across this photo from the early 90s.
Yes, that’s the awkward, teen version of me to the right, and that’s the pre-V.P. version of Dick Cheney on the left. In between is my far-more-photogenic-than-either-of-us family.
I don’t remember much about the day (when my stepfather Sully got his Colonel pin presented by Dick himself) except that Dick was late, Dick blew in, pinned my stepdad, posed for a few photos and rushed out. I know he was an important guy, but, still. I felt gypp’d at the time.
Maybe if he spent a little more time with us, I wouldn’t have written him into a tryst with Barbara Bush in which they make love so forcefully he accidentally slips into her uterus.
