New Dates And A Story

Some new dates are up - November 8-10, I'll be at Stanford's Comedy Club in Kansas City. It's my first time at the club so all you evil pricks who email me to come to KC better show up and bring all your ugliest friends. James Inman is gonna MC so if you're within 1500 miles of the place it's worth the trip.

Also confirmed is Dante's in Portland of Friday, November 22nd. I absolutely love this venue. Dress up all trippy and do plenty of drugs - before and after. I swear some weird shit will go down.

I wish the sniper could have lasted through Halloween and taken out a few of the thousands of dildos who will be dressed up as Austin Powers. I'm in Minneapolis at Acme this week and tomorrow I'm telling the owner not to allow anyone dressed as Austin Powers in the show room, just to be an asshole. Anyone who would doesn't deserve comedy.

I'll put up a new update in a couple days.

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Fuck the Vikings.

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Someone emailed me this. I need to find the entire story.

Hey Doug. I agree wholeheartedly with your Sept. 11 views, and wanted to tip you off to a lovely little tale from the current edition of Atlantic Monthly. It's from an article by William Langewiesche; here's my favorite part:

(Writing about the recovery effort, Langewiesche notes that a field superintendent for the construction cleanup discovers the hulk of a fire truck 50 feet below street level. The superintendent, who, like many, has grown tired of the firefighters' superior attitude, delights in what he finds.) "

...after the hulk of the fire truck appeared, rather than containing bodies, its crew cab was filled with new pairs of jeans from The Gap, a Trade Center store...When a grappler pulled off the roof, the jeans were revealed for all to see...While a crowd of initially bewildered firemen looked on, the construction workers went wild. "Jeans! Look at these...Fucking guys! Jeans!" It was hard to avoid the conclusion that the looting had begun even before the first tower fell, and that while hundreds of doomed firemen had climbed through the wounded buildings, this particular crew had been engaged in something else entirely, without the slightest suspicion that the South Tower was about to hammer down. Of course this was not what the firemen wanted to hear. An angry fire chief tried to shut the construction workers up. He offered an explanation  that the jeans (tagged, folded, stacked by size) had been blown into the crew cab by the force of the collapse. The field superintendent, seeming not to hear, asked the fire chief to repeat what he had said. When he did, the construction workers only jeered louder."

Keep the good shit coming.

Never Enough Time

I can't seem to take time off and sit still anymore. I took a month off and found myself spending hours on Priceline trying to find a place to run off to last minute. When my 100 dollar bids for Guam and Belize were refused for the 6 or 10th time I gave up and used frequent flyer miles to head back to Rhode Island with the wife for a few days with my brother and his family.
Global warming or maybe bad timing fucked us out of the foliage - we were early by a week or two - but we did get to carve some pumpkins with the kids and go fishing at Cook's Pond. We even took a day and went over to Martha's Vineyard where I hadn't been since I was 8 or so. We rented bikes and took pictures of the gingerbread cottage that my grandmother owned before she went batty and sold it for less than what you'd for a shitty new car or moderate bail on a first felony, a permanent stain on her memory with the surviving members of the family.
My brother has two kids, Sidney and Harry Truman. The girl is 6 and the boy is two and full of bowel problems. He can't shit for some reason and I was regaled with tales of his parents having to reach fingers into his gaping pooper to yank out hard nuggets as he shrieks in agony. I was going to suggest they try blowing him at the same time but they seemed too serious about the subject. Either way, it's nice to go home. There's never enough time to do everything you want to do back home but there's always time to get shit-pants drunk watching the Patriots lose and then urinate in the middle of a crowded Sunday Wal-Mart parking lot as though it wasn't out of the ordinary. Some next-day memories bring shame and embarrassment but I don't like Wal-Mart sober and I have no feelings of remorse.
My wife played the family game like it was old hat and made a stalker out of the girl child. She helped her with homework, listened to her read, played dress-up and the lot and now the kid calls her on the phone like a spring break one night stand with a bun in the oven. That's the problem with being nice to kids. Then they wanna hang out with you all the time. When you put bugs down their back and assure them that they are soon to be put into Foster care, they don't usually cry when you leave.
Now I'm back on the road, still recovering from a Tommy Rocker's gig in Vegas where we abused our open bar tab to unprecedented levels of gluttony. I'm sure Tommy is just glad no one stuffed his microphone up their ass this time. Just the same I had a bunch of friends come out and others that didn't. I ran into a guy I'd met in Florida through a mutual friend years ago. He told me the mutual friend was mad at me because he'd found out I fucked his wife. Funny thing is, last time I'd talked to his wife, she'd called me crying because he was trying to pimp her out. Now I find out he's mad at me all these years later and I don't know if he wants me to apologize or cut him a check.
So that's the latest and if it sounds like I'm becoming boring and don't put up enough weird stories, then maybe it's because you haven't taken the time to send me a very large sum of money via PayPal. I know you already have the CD's but that money spends too quick anyway. So just go to the merchandise page, click onto PayPal and send me a very large sum of money for no particular reason other than the simple trust that I will do something very odd with it and then tell you about it here. I'll even give you credit for it. I mean, really - what were you gonna do with that money anyway? Now get to it.
The most important thing to do otherwise is to go to www.freestateproject.org and join. It's an incredible idea and I think it could work. Spread that link around like Indonesian chlamydia. Next week is Appleton and then Minneapolis so if you're within 500 miles or so, be sure to come out.