I’ve really been trying to give Twitter a fair chance here. Do I understand what it does? No. Do I see it’s purpose? Barely. Do I update several times a day? Absolutely. And I have no idea why. I feel an obligation for some reason, but I also enjoy living inside social media. I can get into a whole dissertation here on the mechanics of social media here and why Twitter flourishes, but that’s for another day.

Luckily for me, I follow almost exclusively educated, smart, funny people. They spell things correctly. Write in sentences. Hardly, if ever wander into “text language” (i.e. “Ur” & “L8r”). For this I am thankful. But I do like to wander into the “Trending Topics” from time to time to make sure I am staying hip to any and everything. This is where idiots shine. Tonight, I read this:

yoo do any one noe wats realy gud wit t-mobile why dey not letting no one text

Did that really just happen?

I won’t even tell you his name because I don’t care to add to his 13 followers, but from what I can deduce, there appears to be a problem with T-Mobile’s service. I only got to this conclusion after reading several other tweets in this same trend. But what Captain Grammar poses here is almost a deeper question about T-Mobile. After spending several hours on Urban Dictionary, I was able to figure out that “wats realy gud” becomes “what’s really good [with T-Mobile].” Now, whereas “what’s really good” is also a greeting in some circles, I’m led to believe this person is working on more of a phylisophical level. What’s really good with T-Mobile?

Wow. Well, what’s really good with any of us? You’re asking, on a deeper level, are we innately good people or rather products of a negative environment? But since we create the environment for which we live, how are we truly products of anything other than ourselves? So on that level, if we create and thus can destroy ourselves and our environments, then it would seem to me that you have answered your own question, sir.

T-Mobile (known as “dey”) aren’t the ones stopping you from texting. You are. T-Mobile is your (our) creation, so they exists only on a single, non-physical plane whereas we (known as “any one”) exist on multiple planes — the physical and the spiritual. So “why dey not letting no one text” isn’t about a mobile phone carrier or a piece of technology. It’s about you. You did this. So turn the mirror around, buddy and ask yourself “what’s really good with ME?”

Damn. I need to lay off the Mescaline.

The saddest thing about teenage stoners is that nothing they have ever done is original. Even down to the idea of smoking weed. Their grandparents popularized it and they continue to roll with the same ideals and Cheech & Chong clothing that used to be considered counter-culture.

Last night, I went and saw the film “The Hangover.” Much like the rest of the world, I loved it. I sat in front of a group of three teenage stoners. That’s another feature of their unoriginality — they travel in packs. During the film (like, every 6 or 7 minutes) they would say the phrase “Oh dude, let’s do that.”

Really? You want to “do that?” You want to get punched in the face by Mike Tyson after stealing his tiger? It’s fiction, guys. It’s a comedy film. The whole idea of comedy is exaggeration. I could give you guys $10,000 cash and tell you to go to Vegas and nothing that happened in that movie would happen to you. You’d get there, find a dealer, smoke up, order $8,000 worth of room service and fall asleep.

One of them even started cracking up over a sign on a door that said “Please Enter Here.” He began laughing and even repeated what he was reading as if to emphasize it’s hilarity to his cohorts. They didn’t get it and neither did I. Must be over our heads. Well done, Todd Phillips. Way to slide some hidden cerebral stuff in there for the smarter people in the crowd.

The truth is, I’ve never smoked weed. Have no desire too. I watched plenty of my friends in high school burn out on it and go work in a factory assembling lawn chairs at the age of 18. Not my thing. But I do think it should be legal. I like the idea of it and I think if people can handle themselves with it, more power to you. While I have met a lot of burnouts in my day, I have also met some brilliant casual weed smokers. If we can drink, we can smoke weed.

The point of all this is, teenage stoners are generally stupid people. They are going to be stupid with or without the drugs. These three champions sitting behind me in the theater weren’t on a track to RIT before pot de-railed it. They were born stupid and will go through life stupid. Unfortunately, they think smoking weed makes them some how better than what they are. It’s unoriginal. It’s an old drug. Nothing you are doing is impressive, so maybe take all that free time you had — judging by some of the “ideas” who had when you got to Vegas, you’ve got plenty of it — and invent a new drug.

I’m not talking about going all meth-head and mixing a bunch of shit with bleach. No. Go in the woods for three or four weeks, smoke everything you see growing and bring us back what you find. Doing that kills to birds with one stone: you find the new, hip cool drug and you’re lost in the woods for three weeks and I can try to enjoy a movie.

I’m no Tim Gunn, but I know fashion fopas when I see them. When the weather gets nice, guys seems to lose control of themselves and start dressing way beyond their ability. I thought I would take a moment and utilize my vast readership to run down some of the simple things men should never, ever wear.

1.) Flip Flops. Knock it off. Right now. Granted, I sometimes fall victim to this one, but I am here to let the men of the world know that no one. I repeat; NO ONE wants to see your hairy, ape-like feet. They are gross. Your yellowish toenails are barely holding onto your size 14 Yeti paws as is. No one needs to be distracted by them while they ride behind you on an escalator. Not to mention, your heels resemble Wilford Brimley’s elbows. Treat yourself to a Ped Egg and put on some sneakers.

2.) Popped Collars. It’s over, guys. Popped collars had a good run, then they went away, and then they came back. Girls, you still have some time. The preppy, popped collar look on girls is still working, so hang on to it. But guys; nothing screams “Please, accept me. I shop at Hollister” more than a pink Polo shirt with a popped collar. And remember a few years ago when Tommy Hilfiger tried to convince us the new look was MULTIPLE popped collars? We laughed at such a crazy look. Well, now we’re laughing at you. Fold it down.

3.) Tight Jeans. This seems to only be a trend with high school boys. No one wants to see your tiny package hugged like a baby bird in those tight jeans. I know you think chicks are into the look, but ask yourself this. Have those chicks kissed you? No. Because you’re daintier than them. The boys are meant to breathe down there and with your size zero girl jeans, they are screaming for help. Someday you might want to start a family and as of right now, that’s not looking so good. For two reasons — eventually girls will want to be into you, but they’ll have all these pictures of you wearing basically leotards on your skateboard and be turned right off. Second, you’ve got one, lonely, suffocated sperm down there and he’s running out of space. But don’t take it to the other extreme.

4.) Sweatpants in Public. For some reason, dudes love wearing sweatpants in public. It’s usually two kinds of dudes – college dudes, or work out dudes. College dudes wear sweatpants (or, the alternative “pajama pants”) because they are just lazy. It’s usually coupled with a scruffy beard, greasy, messed up hair and a look that’s the visual representation of stale breath.

The other dude that loves wearing sweatpants in pubic are meat heads. Usually dudes that love working out and wear those baggy, gray pants because they have led themselves to believe no piece of denim could contain their bulging thigh muscles. From time to time, you’ll even see them roll down the top because, let’s be honest, these guys are usually a little gay. This is also apparent by their tiny, belly shirts. Not full on, John Leguizamo in “To Wong Fu” kind of belly shirt. But enough to show some skin and a touch of happy trail. You know the guy I’m talking about. He was probably in your public speaking class and loved talking about guns.

So there’s four easy tips to remember. Am I a fashion expert? Holy God, no. I am a “hot mess” as the kids say. But I do know what sucks and the things above fall into said “suck” category. But, if for some reason, you’re unable to make your own fashion decisions and you usually follow the crowd, then I advise you to jump onto the new hot trend before it blows up your school – Beekeepers Outfits. Do it.

I’m not sure when or why cake decorating became a spectator sport. I like cake just as much as the next guy, but why am I finding myself sitting for hours watching Food Network or Travel Channel as people compete for the most outrageous, extravagant cakes.

This might be one of the many reasons other countries hate us. You think children in Africa would be happy to see us make a four-foot high “Finding Nemo” cake, have it berated by judges claiming the “scene doesn’t wrap all the way around” and then drop it to the floor as we stupidly try to move it from one table to the other? It was FINE on that first table. Why move it? I understand that it’s to prove it can be transported, but sometimes sculpture is best left alone. No one is insisting we move the Sphinx three feet to give it “better light.”

And really, how appealing are these cakes anyways? I am a Rice Krispie Treat lover through and through. But after watching a burly man with hairy arms and pit stains man handle a ball of marshmallow and Rice Krispies for three hours; it’s suddenly not so appealing to me anymore. It becomes a wad of sticky, warm cereal that I’d rather just not eat. And have you ever tasted Fondant? It’s awful. No flavor and it has the texture of a plastic shopping bag.

So no matter how beautiful this cake is, you have to fish through dowel rods, styrofoam, saw dust and three-day old Fondant to even eat CAKE. Your plate looks like a construction site before you even taste the cake itself. Which was baked about a week ago since that’s how long these things take to create. Yum. Week old cake.

Personally, I’ll stick to a fresh, wham bam thank ya mamn sheet cake from Wegmans with a “Happy Birthday Josh” across the top.

I think I have figured out the main problem with our economy. Why people aren’t spending money like they used to. It’s because companies keep selling us broken shit. Now, this could totally be just my bad luck, but I have a feeling I am not alone with this frustration.

Over the past several months, my wife and I have been furnishing a baby’s room as some other rooms in the house. In those few months we have purchased a crib that had a hole in the mattress. A book shelf with a crack in the side and an accent table with chips of missing paint. This doesn’t include the $2,500 dining room set we bought last year that needed to be repaired. Disgusting.

Mind you, we don’t buy cheap junk. We go to places like Pottery Barn, Raymour & Flanigan and JC Penny. We spend thousands of dollars with these places and it seems like 8 times out of 10, we get something delivered and it needs to be returned. Why is this happening? Have people completely stopped caring about their products? It’s not like packaging has been cut back; I see more wasteful Styrofoam and packing tape than ever before, yet when UPS or Fed-Ex drops the product at my house, I can usually find a hole punctured in the side or an indented corner.

Yes, I am naming companies. If you don’t maintain quality packaging/shipping with your products, you should be prepared for scrutiny. And yes, they are always fantastic about their return policies, but that’s not the point. When something arrives at my door, I have come to expect several more weeks before I actually OWN it because I know it will need to be returned, repaired, or something else. Rarely do I open a box, look at the item and say “Wow, it’s in 100% working order. Off we go!”

So I am looking to you, big business. You are asking us to spend money with you so your companies can flourish again, yet we’re expected to stand by idly while you continue to deliver sub-par products? Stop cutting corners on manufacturing or packaging or delivery — wherever this weak link is. Because if we’re expected to spend money with you, then you’re expected to meet or exceed or expectations and right now, you fail.

And since I know you come to me for comedy and not angry rants, here’s a video of a cute cat that likes to walk around with a bag on it’s head.

Yesterday I had the pleasure of driving the 93Q Boombox in the Syracuse St. Patrick’s Day Parade. This was my first time even attending this event, let alone maneuvering a two-ton locomotive through it. What did I learn? People love booze.

The only time it ever sounds like a good idea to dye your head, goatee and probably nether-regions green is when you’re several gallons into Guinness.

Also, when you start literally tossing your small children into the middle of a parade route to “get you those damn beads,” you must really love booze because you certainly don’t love your children. Sure, they aren’t turning out the way you’d imagined, but take a look in the mirror real quick. What chance does a kid have when their dad is wearing green leprechaun shorts and suspenders. It’s not their fault.

And I am so thankful that there were no tragic fires during this parade, because not only was every fire department within 30 miles in the parade, but they were completely cocked. It should be said that I have the utmost respect for firefighters and the work they do and now I have even more respect for their ability to slam beers before noon and ride on top of fire trucks.

The best part of the parade took place when we were about half a mile off the parade route heading back to the station. Lined up against a building were three gentlemen pissing in unison. As if there were invisible urinals. Very organized. Very classy.

So, for next year’s parade, perhaps I’ll take part in the festivities rather than work it. I can’t drink like I used to, but I can certainly piss on building with the rest of them. Oh, and when it comes to dying body part’s green, you might as well call me Pablo Picasso.

With much of the northern part of the country being slaughtered by winter weather currently, I felt it was time to extend some winter driving tips to help keep you safe this season.

(Explicit language. 93Q readers, use caution!)

Tip 1: Get Your Head Out of Your Ass. I cannot emphasize this enough. This is absolutely the first step you should take before getting behind the wheel. With the Holidays upon us, most of you have your heads shoved so far up your asses, you cannot seem to operate a motor vehicle properly. Because of that, take 10 seconds to squeeze your bloated head from out between your white, taught ass cheeks.

Tip 2: Understand Physics. Even on the most basic level. You wouldn’t drive your Jetta at 75 miles an hour over a frozen lake would you? It simply doesn’t make sense, right? Well, that’s exactly what you’re doing as you fly by me in the passing lane during an ice storm. Except, on the lake, you would just kill yourself. On the road, you could kill me, my friends and family. This could be totally avoided if you just follow tip one.

Tip 3: Shut Up. Get off your cell phone and watch the God damned road. There is nothing your trampy girlfriend has to say right now that cannot wait 20 minutes. And no, it’s not better if you just text her. Your Lee Press-On nails are not conducive to T9 text. And again; what is more important? Your life and those lives around you or successfully getting out the message “lol nick is so hawt omg lol.”

Tip 4: Exercise Humility. Congratulations. You bought a $40,000 SUV. I am very impressed. I should inform you that the price and size of your vehicle does not grant it special traction abilities in extreme weather. Whereas you may think you can speed past everyone in your H3, your tires are just as wet, on just as much ice and slide just as quickly as my Ford Taurus. My friend AJ drove Hummers in Iraq. He knows how to roll those things back over. I have a funny feeling you don’t.

Tip 5: Go Fuck Yourself. This is one of the most important tips I can give you. If someone is having trouble turning at a stop light or getting traction at a stop sign and you start honking your horn, I urge you to immediately go fuck yourself. Some people have the intelligence to leave their homes early and give themselves extra time on the way to work. Just because you binged out at your local townie bar last night and are 30 minutes late for your shift at the asshole factory, there’s no need to flip my grandmother the bird as she tries to get her morning McGriddle. Fuck yourself long and fuck yourself hard.

So there you have it. Some winter driving tips to help you through this nasty season. Stay safe out there and Happy Holidays!

First off, I can’t pretend like it didn’t happen. I know I have not written anything for you in two months and I have no excuse for that. I have been working on a new project launching in October that will blow your world apart so hopefully when that happens, you will be more understanding of my absence. There, we covered it. Moving on…

VH1 Classics is a wonderful time capsule of awful shit. If you want to see, re-live, better comprehend or, in this case, discover brand new shit, I highly recommend it. You see, this morning as I stumbled downstairs on a rainy Saturday, I plopped on my couch and turned it on. Luckily for me, I caught, what I consider to be, the worst music video ever made. Granted, it was made in the ’80’s and the bar was very low, but trailblazers can only be given so much slack. I mean, it’d be like Columbus discovering the wrong continent.

It’s by the group Asia whom is best known for their hit “Heat of the Moment” which comes off their very first record; the self titled “Asia,” released in 1982. “Heat of the Moment” was a smash hit reaching #1 on the Billboard charts along with the album it was the first cut on. The second cut off “Asia” was a song called “Only Time Will Tell.” It was also the first single they released before “Heat of the Moment.” It only reached #4 on the charts, but helped establish the band and carve the path “H.O.M.” would eventually blaze.

They got lucky. Because the video for “Only Time Will Tell” is fucking awful. Granted, MTV launched in August of 1981 (the same month I was born) and this video was released in the Spring of 1982, so really no one had any idea what they were doing, but that’s no excuse. Just watch:

I really hope you took the time to view that because two things will happen to you if you did: you will be blown away at how bad the video is, but at the same time, fall in love with the song. If you are male, a third thing will happen: you will spend three minutes and 57 seconds of your life trying to see through the woman’s white leotard. Don’t feel guilty. You can’t help it. My friend Kevin just told me that he caught himself trying to check out a girl’s ass as she drove past him the other day, but since it was impossible (seeing as she driving a car), he just stared at the rear bumper as it drove away. Our male minds know not how to handle these situations. Honestly, we’re just happy if they remind us when to shit so we don’t ruin our pants. That’s all we ask of our brains. Anything it wants to do beyond that, we have no control.

Anywho, on to the video. My argument is this: movies existed before music videos. People had a basic understanding of storytelling, ups, downs, etc. This is almost four minutes of the exact same thing and that thing isn’t even interesting. It’s a gymnast doing slow-motion flips, jumps, etc. over televisions that have the band on them, but if you pay attention to the band, they couldn’t look less interested in singing. At one point, they are standing with their arms crossed. But it’s not in a bad ass, Metallica stance. It’s in a “Sure, I’ll wait here while you try on 30 pairs of jeans, honey” kinda stance. They are bored by their own video.

The video itself was directed by Godley & Creme. They were an English duo that directed some pretty big videos in the early 80’s including Duran Duran’s “Girls on Film” and The Police’s “Every Breath You Take.” With this one, though, they phoned it in. Big time. And the bitch about the whole thing is that they also directed Wang Chung’s “Everybody Have Fun Tonight.” I won’t get into that video, but if you watch it, you can tell a lot of work went into shooting at editing. A lot more than they put into “Only Time Will Tell.”

If only Godley & Creme knew then what we know now — Asia was going to outlast Wang Chung. Hell, Asia has outlasted The Beatles, The Police, Nirvana, and a million other bands. Asia still tours, people! And not only that, there are TWO ASIAS! There’s the original band with all four original members touring again and then there’s a second Asia called “Asia featuring John Payne.” Payne is a bassist that joined the band in 1991 and just tours with the name Asia now. TWO FUCKING ASIAS! Take yourself back to 1982, turn on your cable box and watch “Only Time Will Tell.” Would you say to yourself “Wow, this band is so potent that in 26 years, they will have split apart like an amoeba and be rocking this planet in two separate forms?”

No, you wouldn’t. And that shows how very little you know about quality, long-lasting music. You need to be able to see the forest for the trees and recognize the artists that have longevity and the ability to persevere. Artists with talent beyond this world and who will still be in our lives 10, 20 or 30 years from now. Now if you will excuse me, I have a Danity Kane concert to get to.

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“Heat of the Moment” by Asia

They say that hindsight is 20/20. Never did I believe this cliche saying more than recently when I heard the song “Summer Girls” by LFO. It was a wildly popular song in 1999, reaching all the way to #3 on the Billboard Charts. I remember it because it had the catchy lines about Chinese food making him sick and stuff, but 1999 was a mega year for me (high school graduation, first year at college), so it kinda got lost in the shuffle. If you don’t remember it, scroll to the bottom of this post and press the play button.

But when I heard it recently, about a million crazy thoughts and questions ran through my head, so I now present to you what will hopefully become a regular feature on this site — Summer Girls: A Lyrical Analyzation:

New Kids on the Block had a bunch of hits
Chinese food makes me sick
And I think its fly when girls stop by for the summer, for the summer
I like girls that wear Abercrombie and Fitch
I’d take her if I had one wish
But she’s been gone since that summer…

First off, really? A bunch of hits? That would constitute five or more hits. I can count three: “Hangin’ Tough’,” “Please Don’t Go Girl” and “Step by Step.” You got more? Don’t you dare count that Christmas Album.

Hip Hop mama layed Spic and Span
Met you one summer and it all began
You’re the best girl that I ever did see
The great Larry Bird jersey 33
When you take a sip you buzz like a hornet
Billy Shakespeare wrote a whole bunch of sonnets

How did we go from a girl you like, to Larry Bird’s jersey number to William Shakespeare in four lines? I love the whole steam of consciousness thing, but seriously? None of those things are even slightly related. But yes, I will give you credit on this one. He did write a large amount of sonnets, thus constituting “bunch.” Well done.

Call me Willy Whistle cuz I can’t speak baby
Somethin in your eyes went and drove me crazy
Now I can’t forget you and it makes me mad
Left one day and never came back
Stayed all summer the went back home
Macaulay Culkin wasn’t Home Alone

Actually, yes he was.
That was not only the plot of the movie, but also the title.

Fell deep in love, but now we ain’t speakin
Michael J. Fox was Alex P. Keaton
When I met you I said my name was Rich
You look like a girl from Abercrombie and Fitch

(Chorus)

I’m not an expert on love, but I have some tips for you. Mayhaps the reason you are no longer on speaking terms is because A. Your random 80’s sitcom knowledge isn’t going to impress a girl like this. Stay cool. And B.) The first thing you said to this girl is that she looked like someone else. Never a good move. If someone came up to you and said “You look like the guy at Valvoline,” you’d be insulted. Unless, of course, this was recently, in which case, you probably are the guy at Valvoline.

Cherry, Pez, Cold Crush, Rock, Stud, Boogie
Used to hate school, so I had to play hookie
Always been hip to the b-boy style
Known to act wild and make a girl smile
Love New Edition and the Candy Girl
Reminds me of you because you rock my world
You come from Georgia where the peaches grow
They drink lemonade and speak real slow
You love Hip Hop and Rock &Roll
Dad took off when you where 4 years old
There was a good man named Paul Revere

Woah! You were on a pretty good run there for a minute then you had to fuck it up. Paul Revere? Is this the one time in your life that piece of history wiggled it’s way to the front of your brain? Paul Revere? That was obviously a line you wrote to accommodate “hold you’re near” or some shit.

I feel much better baby when you’re near

Yup, see. I knew it.

You love Fun Dip and Cherry Coke
I like the way you laugh when I tell a joke
When I met you I said my name is Rich
You look like a girl from Abercrombie and Fitch

(Chorus)

Again, maybe a “Hello, I am Richard. I like your sarong” or something.

In the summertime girls got it goin on
Shake and wiggle to a Hip Hop song
Summertime girls are the kind I like
I’ll steal your honey like I stole your bike

Dude, what!? No! Don’t ever steal shit from the girl you’re into. Her bike? Come on, man. She needs that bike to get to and from her baby daddy house ever since her license got revoked. Damn DWI’s!

Boogaloo Shrimp and Pogo sticks
My mind takes me back there, oh so quick
Let you off the hook like my man, Mr. Limpit
Think about that summer, and I bug cuz I miss it
Like the color Purple, Macaroni and cheese
Ruby red slippers, and a bunch of trees
Call you up but what’s the use
I like Kevin Bacon, but I hate Foot Loose

I must admit, you’re the first person who has said that sentence in reverse. Usually it’s “I love Footloose, but hate Kevin Bacon.” But then those people see Tremors and they shut the hell up because his performance is breath-take-ing.

Came in the door, I said it before
I think I’m over you, but I’m really not sure
When I met you I said my name is Rich
You look like a girl from Abercrombie and Fitch

(Chorus)

I am really not getting through to you on this introduction thing, am I?

Summer girls come, and summer girls go
Some are worth while, and some are so so
Summer girls come, and summer girls go
Some are worth while, and some are so so
Summertime girls got it goin on
Shake and wiggle to a Hip Hop song
Summertime girls are the kind I like
I’ll steal your honey, like I stole your bike

(Chorus)

And we’re back to petty theft. Well, LFO, you knocked it out of the park on this one. You said a lot of things to this girl(s). Your pop culture references were astute and ability to use them to find new and exciting ryhme schemes for “you are near” and “rock my world” did not go unnoticed. I truly hope this summer goes much better for you so in closing, I say:

Mark Austin was the first Boba Fett
You’re a one-hit wonder we’ll never forget.

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Last weekend I spent 24 hours in Niagara Falls – exactly 24 hours. It was roughly 23 hours too long.

It began in Fredonia, NY where I was booked to perform at Fredonia State College on Thursday night. The show was amazing and it’s always great to perform there. Mostly because it’s my little brother’s school (until he graduates in two weeks) and he always spurs a million more great stories out of my brain to share with the crowd. Awesome.

I had my guitar with me for this performance and was traveling with my good friend and fellow musician, Jason Bean. He had brought his guitar as well so we could work on new music at the hotel after the show. On my way to Fredonia I had realized that I had forgotten my capo (a device used to change the key of a guitar by clamping it on the neck and strings). A lot of the songs Jason and I are working on use a capo so following the show, I made a very hasty decision; go the only store open at 8:45pm in Dunkirk, NY – The Wal-Mart Supercenter. I knew they sometimes carry shitty musical gear (i.e. picks, strings, capos, etc.) so we decided to try it.

Since I’ve made a lifelong promise to never shop at a Wal-Mart as long as I live, my plan was to GIFT Jason Bean the exact amount of the capo and he would, in turn, buy a capo and GIFT it to me. It was a flawless plan. Luckily, in some divine sign from God, they did not have any capos. This was not discovered as simple as us walking in, asking for a capo and them saying “sorry, we don’t have them.” Us asking for a capo spurred on a 20 minute quest involving four employees. It was one final way for Wal-Mart to stick it to me. Well played, Wal-Mart.

We got back in the car, headed north and arrived in Niagara Falls at 10:21pm.
The adventure begins.

I should note that the reason we were even going to Niagara Falls was to see my absolute favorite comedy troupe, “The Kids in the Hall” on Friday night. Rather than performing in Fredonia (located about an hour south of Buffalo) driving home and then coming back the next night to see the show in Niagara Falls (located a little north of Buffalo), I opted to stay over and kill some time in Niagara Falls until the show at 8pm.

We were staying The Crowne Plaza; a very nice hotel in Niagara Falls, NY. This was a Thursday night and never did I expect the hotel to be busy, but luckily for us, there was a Lions Club Election at the Hotel this same weekend. I never knew that Lions Club elections even existed, but the best way for me to describe this is hundreds of old, confused people walking around a hotel trying to rally up votes for their candidate. There were campaign posters, campaign lunches and even decorated vans circling the parking lot. It was unreal. I will say this, thought: The Lions Club is really diverse! The three candidates were an Indian woman, a Black man and an Asian Man. Not a white person among them. It was refreshing because if hundreds of crusty white people can accept a Black candidate for Lions Club President, District A2 then maybe my man Barack Obama has a chance.

Around 10:55pm, we ventured outside to find some food. Now, for those of you who don’t know, the American side of the falls is shit. Absolute shit. The Canadian side isn’t any better (in some ways, worse), but the American side has absolutly nothing so finding food at 11pm is impossible. We called room service, they were closed. The two bars inside the hotel, just closing. The only place to eat in all of Niagara Falls, NY is a restaurant inside the Seneca Niagara Casino. We bellied up next to the fat gamblers of Western New York, ate a small dinner and went to bed.

The next morning, we woke up, lounged around, watched TV, etc. Pretty much anything to kill 12 hours. We even watched “Ghost.” Yes, “Ghost.”

Around noon we checked out of the hotel on a mission to find anything possible to kill eight hours because the rest of the day, we had no home. We lived on the streets of Niagara Falls. We wandered the American side and eventually came to terms with the fact that nothing exists on the American side. There is a casino, a bus stop and a parking garage. That’s it. So we decided to take a chance and see if we could get into Canada. We knew that in this post 9/11 world (I hate that I just used that phrase), it’s almost impossible to go anywhere without a passport, but we thought we tried it. The streets of Niagara Falls, Ontario which is more populated but in no means any less shitty. Planet Hollywood, Hard Rock, Indoor Water Park, oh my. Just a sea of hacky tourist shit that in comparison to the American side was a heaven we had to get to. Even at the risk of jumping the border and running for a waiting pick-up truck.

We crossed the pedestrian bridge and entered Candian customs.
The man said “Where were you born? Why are you here? Go ahead.”

Done. We’re in. Wow.

So we just wandered the streets. Miles and miles of killing time which any other day would have taken hours, but on this day we were trapped in some black hole where time was frozen and the French Canadian accents were thick. After walking every street in Ontario and even some streets we really shouldn’t have… this mission was completed in about an hour and 45 minutes. We had run out of things to do with still six hours left before the show so we decided to cross back into America and go see “Iron Man.”

Upon approaching the border back into America, we were stunned to find a turn style asking for 50 cents. That’s it. No guard, guns, cops, nothing. At first we thought, “Wow, as long as you have a dollar, you and a friend are welcome in our country.”

This fantasy was cut short after we crossed the bridge and met some of the biggest asshole border patrol guards you could ever imagine. A pair of guys that long to be TSA bag checkers, but are currently stationed at the lamest border in the country: The pedestrian bridge from Canada to America. “Do you have anything to declare?” Yes, I do. Niagara Falls sucks.

We went to Iron Man (which was a super-kick ass movie) and then headed over to the Seneca Niagara Casino for the show. I had gotten the tickets through the radio station. Our sister station in Buffalo, actually. Citadel in Buffalo deals with Seneca Niagara Casino on a regular basis so they were nice enough to give me a set of tickets.

The absolute worst tickets I have ever had to any event in my life.

This was not the fault of my friends and co-workers in Buffalo by any means. I am appreciative of them and their ability to even get me the tickets. The Casino must not like us very much. This is all blamed on a Casino that has absolutely no idea how to put on a comedy show. On the right, you will see a photo of where my “VIP” tickets were in location to the stage.

The seats were on flat ground, no slope whatsoever, so once you’re two or three rows back, forget it. All you see is head. But that didn’t piss me off nearly as much as the comping policy.

This Casino offers comp show tickets to their “high rollers” which include my grandmother and thousands of people like her. 75-year-old women who play bingo for 12 hours a day and bus in and out of their casino twice a week. Because of this, I had to endure sitting in row 27 (only two rows from the absolute back) waiting for one of my biggest comedy influences to take the stage while I watched silver haird beauties pushing oxygen tanks to the front row. Mother fuck. The Kids in the Hall are easily one of my earliest influences and probably 60% of the reason I am in comedy now. I would come home every day from school, sit on the couch and study what they did on Comedy Central re-runs. I know almost every word to every sketch. This moment was 15 years in the making and there I was, watching retirees strut past me to watch a show they have no interest in.

Now you’re probably saying “if you wanted good tickets so bad, you could have bought them.” Wrong, even those seats didn’t start until row five! Plus, I was being given “VIP Seats.” What gets better than that? Well, apparently, about 26 other rows.

For those of you who don’t know The Kids in the Hall, they can be rather offensive. Homosexuality, Nazis, everything. They push the envelope and it’s what makes real fans love them. Unfortunately, Gert and her husband Bert were offended by the second sketch. Because of that, there was a constant flow of old people exiting the theater at varying speeds for the rest of the performance. Not only was I back so far I could barely make out what they cast looked like, but now it was graciously being interrupted by snowbirds walking in front of me.

The saddest site was at the very end of the show when Mark McKinney came out with a camera to find people in the crowd and “crush their heads” the giant screen his camera was projecting on was showing completely empty front rows. Awful.

The show finished, I was bummed, we got back in the car and pulled out of the very same parking lot at 10:21pm. Exactly 24 hours later.

The best way to sum up these 24 hours would be with a photo. This is a piece of paper I found in the grass outside the Casino before we walked into the show. It says exactly what this insanely long post has been trying to say for the last 40 lines…