Andres sits on his couch watching tv, thinking “He totally got that dachsund to calm down. I love this guy. He truly is the Dog Whisp…”
Hello? I what? But I don’t know how to…Mmm hmm. Yeah but this must be a mistake because fine I’ll be there.
Andres hangs up and looks into the camera.
I made Olympus Fashion Week!
Andres puts his hands to his cheeks a la that albino kid from ‘Home Alone’.
CUT TO: Andres in front of a white background, addressing the camera.
Wow. My own runway show. This is a dream come true. Unfortunately, it’s the dream of a talented and dedicated fashion designer, not me. There has been a terrible mistake. That being said, my Fall line shall be called “Manman.”
CUT TO: Andres in a fabric store, his arms full of cloth. He is talking to a diminutive clerk.
Do you guys have any pre-made…pants?
No this is a fabric store and why are you holding our curtains?
Pan back to show that Andres is just holding the store’s curtains, still attached to the curtain rod. He lets go and they fall back into place. He smiles.
CUT TO Andres in the um…work…place where they build the clothes. Designers fret to and fro, clothes hang on manequins, sewing machines buzz like giant mechanical gay bees, etc. Andres is reading an L.L. Bean catalog. Tim Gunn sweeps majestically into the room.
Designers, gather round. This is it. You’ve got one week to pull this together – your signature look. This is your opportunity to make your mark on the runway.
Yeah if you eat some bad fish before the show. Then you’ll heh. Make heh heh. A mark on the runway.
They all stare.
A diarrhea mark.
CUT TO Andres back at the fabric store, comparing swatches of corduroy.
The whole Manman look is going to be corduroy-based. I want every surface of every one of my garments to be in a constant state of friction. You’ll know it’s Manman when you hear “voot voot voot”. (he rubs two swatches of corduroy together, listening) Hear that? Voot. Voot voot. (he rubs them faster and faster and then suddenly the fabric bursts into flames.)
The clerk blasts Andres with a fire extinguisher.
CUT TO Andres in Central Park with a pair of binoculars.
(as he looks through binoculars) I’m just here at the park for some inspiration.
CUT TO a view through the binoculars of an L.L. Bean catalog being read by someone a hundred yards away.
CUT TO the work area.
Designers, we’re giving you eight fewer days, all of the outfits have to be edible, we’re bringing back Vincent and Allison, Vincent you’re out please pack up your things, and I’m sending in your models. Oh and forget the edible thing. Allison you’re out.
The models all whisp into the room. CUT TO our hero and his model:
(on his cell) Hello L.L. Bean? I’d like the Carefree Corduroy Khakis, as large as possible. Frump cut. And if there’s some way to make them “extra tan” I’d appreciate it.
You are soothing my sore, acid-torn esophagus with the cooling lozenge of disappointment.
CUT TO the runway show, Kininini saunters down the stage, both of her legs inside one leg of the giant khakis, the other leg flipped up and over her torso like a giant corduroy sash.
HOLY SHIT…does this count as fan fiction? I might as well put Boba Fett in here somewhere. Alright, chalk this up to another post I’ll never finish. I’m rooting for Uli, by the way.
I’m watching ‘Studio 60 In The Hallway Banter Fest’ here, and it strikes me that Aaron Sorkin should just write a show about mice in a maze. That way, every single scene could involve mice arguing with each other while briskly scurrying down hallways.
If the ratings start to sag?
BOOM. They find the cheese.
I am der IDEAMEISTER.
I like the above painting. Oh and also IT’S BY HITLER.
Yep. Adolf Hitler painted it. And yes, I legitimately like it. Makes me think, what if Hitler had received some lucky breaks as a young, struggling artist, maybe snagging a good review here or there, or settling under the patronage of a wealthy art enthusiast who could encourage him to continue his life pursuing painting and not…eliminating swaths of innocent people? Perhaps history would have unfolded very differently? Perhaps Hitler could have developed into a successful, popular and influential artist whose work would still be appreciated today? Perhaps then some of the following statements wouldn’t seem odd at all:
“Honey, this field of wheat is gorgeous! It’s like something Hitler would have painted!”
“But not all of the credit can go to Durzier’s direction. Garth Tahiko’s cinematography is almost a character unto itself – lush and suffused with an unearthly color pallet, as if Adolf Hitler himself had reached down from the hallowed halls of heaven reserved for the true masters and allowed some small part of himself to become imbued in the very celluloid. Yes, while watching ‘Love, Spirit, Grace’ I could not help but think to myself “Hitler, Hitler, Hitler.”
and of course
Washington, D.C. – Today the Smithsonian Institute announced that three large works by Adolf Hitler would grace the main antechamber of the new PABLO PICASSO HOLOCAUST MUSEUM YES NATURE ABHORS A VACUUM WHEN ADOLF HITLER WENT ON TO BECOME A FAMOUS ARTIST INSTEAD OF A GENOCIDAL MADMAN THE SCALES OF HISTORY TILTED WILDLY UNTIL THEY CAME AGAIN INTO BALANCE WITH THE EMERGENCE OF MURDEROUS PSYCHOPATH PABLO PICASSO WHO WOULD GO ON TO CONQUER HALF OF EUROPE AND SLAUGHTER SIX MILLION SWEDES IN WHAT WOULD LATER BE TERMED THE PICASSO HOLOCAUST THE SWEDES WOULD THEN USE THIS TRAGIC PAST AS THEIR PRESENT MOTIVATION AND GO ON TO RULE HOLLYWOOD USHERING IN THE GOLDEN AGE OF FILMS ABOUT QUALITY FURNITURE.
See? Butterfly in China, my friends. Butterfly in China.
Which body spray do you think I should wear?
Tony Camin, Chris Parnell, me, Pete Holmes, and Leo Allen from l to r
(photo by Anya Garrett – check out the rest at sketchartists.net)
I did a show this past Monday called “Broin’ Out” at the UCB. I always get excited/nervous to do shows at that theater, because I consider it to be the center of comedy in NYC. I often dwell on whether or not I’d be really successful by now if I had come up through their system as opposed to bouncing around in obscurity. Maybe that’s just arrogance. Anyhow, at this point it’s moot – I’m confident I’ll be making a decent living at being funny before I’m…40. Well. This post hasn’t gotten off to a very promising start. Let’s get to the marbles*, shall we?
I played my blind character, Cash Brulee, which was a bit awkward since I was the only character in the show. Everyone else was themselves. Just broin’ out. So I felt like I maybe stood out as the one dork with “schtick”, but I did still manage to get plenty of laughs from the tragically young, ironic, and hard to please audience. During the interview portion of my bit, Leo asked me why a blind man has a notebook and pen in his shirt pocket. I acted uncomfortable. Little did the audience know that this was a setup for a bit! I acted grumpy about it, and told Leo to go ahead and read it out loud. Here is what it said:
May 3, 2002
Praise The Lord! After 30 years of darkness, I can see again! Now I can keep a non-textured journal, as I’ve always wanted. If it weren’t for that coconut falling on my head, who knows how long I would have remained blind. Coming here to the Bahamas has worked out exactly as I had planned. Now I just have to avoid getting hit in the head by any other coco
(the rest of the page is blank, and I tell Leo to turn the page)
Wow! Three coconuts in one afternoon! My head sure hurts, but my blessed eyesight is back once and for
(the rest of the page is blank again)
Then I say “That was the infamous day of four coconuts.”
Well, maybe you had to be there, but I enjoyed it.
*Just made that phrase up. Go ahead, use it. I’m generous like that. “Hey babe, let’s get to the marbles!”