This just in!
Wednesday, May 30th. Margret Cho & ME!
You read right. Margret Cho is filming a short set for VH1 at the Punch Line. See me and the notorious cho on one ticket.
Jay Mohr Canceled at Cobb's tonight and tomorrow. I will be there on the late shows tonight and Saturday.
Cobb's
Looks like Friday nights show at the Purple Onion is selling out! Saturday still has about half the seats available. Come on down and hear politics as it is meant to be heard; with laughter and skepticism.
$20.00 Use the site for reservations, but it's all cash at the door.
Comedy Against Evil
Tuesday & Wednesday of next week at the San Francisco Punch Line are doing pretty well too!
Still plenty of tickets available if you want in. $14.00
Thursday-Saturday I am with Greg Proops from whose line is it anyway!
Sunday is the world famous fabulous Showcase.
Monday, May 5th is the return of GET IT!? A Stand-Up Comedy Game Show!
Punch Line, San Francisco
Friday, April 25, 2008
A Little of This and a Little of That.
In many cases after people receive donated organs, they develop cravings or personality traits that the original person had. I think this happens with used cars too. A friend of mine bought a previously owned Humvee. He told me that with in two weeks of owning it, he started voting republican and lost 3 inches off his dick.
Wesley Snipes was just sentenced for tax evasion. He was given 3 years and ordered not to make anymore Vampire movies.
Does anyone remember if anyone in the Enron scandal actually did any time? Just asking.
At Yankee Stadium, construction workers dug up a Red Sox jersey poured into the cement under home plate. It was put there as a way to "curse" the Yankees. Makes me wonder what the X left buried under my bed. Better yet, someone should look under the White House for an Iraqi flag. Might explain a lot.
At a recent private gig for a rich guy turning 50, I had one of the worse audiences I have yet to encounter. What is it with bored pretentious rich white guys anyway that makes them so unable to allow joy to register on their face? I had been contacted by the wife who wanted to throw a party where I would come out and do 20 minuets. She had seen me at the death penalty focus benefit I did last month. She is a life long liberal, he works for a company in the south bay that produces "smart" munitions for the military. They both believe that opposites attract. Problem is, in his field they attract and then explode.
I am always fascinated that people in the weapons business never say they are in the weapons business. Instead it is always, defense contractor. Hey, whatever you gotta tell yourself to go to bed at night, right? I know, you are reading this and wondering when it starts to go horribly wrong. Probably wondering why I took the gig in the first place too $$$$!
The crowd of middle age white people, sipping martinis and complementing each other on their tans, is largely bored by any thing I have to offer. It is not going well. Toward the end I turn to the husband and say, "I suppose you are use to seeing bombs like this?"
This comment makes everyone go quiet. Later, on my way to the car, it is explained to me that no one is ever permitted to talk about his job. They apparently enjoy the profits from death and destruction, they just don't like to think about what his product does though.
His indifferent smile vanishes. Looking at me with steely eyes, he sets his drink down and replies, "It's OK. I understand that comedy is largely a defense mechanism."
"I guess were in the same business then." I say.
Show over.
Wesley Snipes was just sentenced for tax evasion. He was given 3 years and ordered not to make anymore Vampire movies.
Does anyone remember if anyone in the Enron scandal actually did any time? Just asking.
At Yankee Stadium, construction workers dug up a Red Sox jersey poured into the cement under home plate. It was put there as a way to "curse" the Yankees. Makes me wonder what the X left buried under my bed. Better yet, someone should look under the White House for an Iraqi flag. Might explain a lot.
At a recent private gig for a rich guy turning 50, I had one of the worse audiences I have yet to encounter. What is it with bored pretentious rich white guys anyway that makes them so unable to allow joy to register on their face? I had been contacted by the wife who wanted to throw a party where I would come out and do 20 minuets. She had seen me at the death penalty focus benefit I did last month. She is a life long liberal, he works for a company in the south bay that produces "smart" munitions for the military. They both believe that opposites attract. Problem is, in his field they attract and then explode.
I am always fascinated that people in the weapons business never say they are in the weapons business. Instead it is always, defense contractor. Hey, whatever you gotta tell yourself to go to bed at night, right? I know, you are reading this and wondering when it starts to go horribly wrong. Probably wondering why I took the gig in the first place too $$$$!
The crowd of middle age white people, sipping martinis and complementing each other on their tans, is largely bored by any thing I have to offer. It is not going well. Toward the end I turn to the husband and say, "I suppose you are use to seeing bombs like this?"
This comment makes everyone go quiet. Later, on my way to the car, it is explained to me that no one is ever permitted to talk about his job. They apparently enjoy the profits from death and destruction, they just don't like to think about what his product does though.
His indifferent smile vanishes. Looking at me with steely eyes, he sets his drink down and replies, "It's OK. I understand that comedy is largely a defense mechanism."
"I guess were in the same business then." I say.
Show over.
Who Needs Information?
People keep wanting to make a big deal out of comments made by Rev. Right. Right, is the pastor of Obamas church whose sermons have been in the news for some fiery comments about 9-11 and racism. If we are going to judge candidates by the company they keep, lets judge all of them by the same standard.
Rev. John Hagee gave his endorsement to John McCain recently. McCain, told reporters he was very pleased to have it.
This is Rev. John Hagee's take on Katrina.
All hurricanes are acts of God, because God controls the heavens. I believe that New Orleans had a level of sin that was offensive to God, and they were recipients of the judgment of God for that.The newspaper carried the story in our local area, that was not carried nationally, that there was to be a homosexual parade there on the Monday that the Katrina came. And the promise of that parade was that it would was going to reach a level of sexuality never demonstrated before in any of the other gay pride parades.So I believe that the judgment of God is a very real thing. I know there are people who demur from that, but I believe that the Bible teaches that when you violate the law of God, that God brings punishment sometimes before the Day of Judgment, and I believe that the Hurricane Katrina was, in fact, the judgment of God against the city of New Orleans.
By the way, McCain was visiting New Orleans yesterday and called the governments response to the destruction inadequate. He also said he would not have flown over the damage as Bush did-he would of landed. Where was McCain the day Katrina struck? He was having a birthday cake with George Bush.
Rev. John Hagee gave his endorsement to John McCain recently. McCain, told reporters he was very pleased to have it.
This is Rev. John Hagee's take on Katrina.
All hurricanes are acts of God, because God controls the heavens. I believe that New Orleans had a level of sin that was offensive to God, and they were recipients of the judgment of God for that.The newspaper carried the story in our local area, that was not carried nationally, that there was to be a homosexual parade there on the Monday that the Katrina came. And the promise of that parade was that it would was going to reach a level of sexuality never demonstrated before in any of the other gay pride parades.So I believe that the judgment of God is a very real thing. I know there are people who demur from that, but I believe that the Bible teaches that when you violate the law of God, that God brings punishment sometimes before the Day of Judgment, and I believe that the Hurricane Katrina was, in fact, the judgment of God against the city of New Orleans.
By the way, McCain was visiting New Orleans yesterday and called the governments response to the destruction inadequate. He also said he would not have flown over the damage as Bush did-he would of landed. Where was McCain the day Katrina struck? He was having a birthday cake with George Bush.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
McCain's Vice President
As you all know, I am very excited to announce that John McCain has asked me to be his Vice President! Some of the duties John has asked me to perform once we win the White House include, making the morning oat meal for him.
Asking Bob Dole to stand next to him so he doesn't look so old.
Supplying him with Viagra, updates on his Myspace page (No glitter fonts!) and the blood of an orphan once a month during the full Moon. (Don't ask!)
I will also be expected to reach for things on high shelves, explain such new words as, OMG and LOL to our President and keep the remote control separated from the nuclear launch button at all times.
It is true that John is pretty old, but the good news is that since he will be under so much pressure, he can directly contribute to the oil problem by becoming oil once he leaves office! How many other Presidents can say that?
I look forward to serving the President and the People of this great country. If you will excuse me now, John is waking up from a nap and I need to be there to work the TiVo so he can watch American Idol.
Asking Bob Dole to stand next to him so he doesn't look so old.
Supplying him with Viagra, updates on his Myspace page (No glitter fonts!) and the blood of an orphan once a month during the full Moon. (Don't ask!)
I will also be expected to reach for things on high shelves, explain such new words as, OMG and LOL to our President and keep the remote control separated from the nuclear launch button at all times.
It is true that John is pretty old, but the good news is that since he will be under so much pressure, he can directly contribute to the oil problem by becoming oil once he leaves office! How many other Presidents can say that?
I look forward to serving the President and the People of this great country. If you will excuse me now, John is waking up from a nap and I need to be there to work the TiVo so he can watch American Idol.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
"message force multipliers"
On today's date in 2004, Army Ranger Pat Tillman was killed in Afghanistan. It is important to remember for a number of reasons. I point it out today as an example of how the media gets manipulated into giving the message the Pentagon wants. You will remember that at first his death was hailed as heroic. An unselfish act of patriotism from a man who left a 3 million dollar a year contract playing professional football. It was, for the military, a shining example.
You know what happened. The following month it came out that he was killed by friendly fire. Questions about why it was covered up and who was responsible for not only the cover up, but who was responsible have never been fully answered. Even after 4 investigation now. We learned that right after his death his body armour was burned by his own troops. This always suggested to outside observers that more was going on than we will ever know. Conspiracy junkies point out that in letters to home, Pat was disillusioned with the war and wanted to speak with leading anti-war activists when he came home for leave. Having the Army's poster boy come out against the war would not have been looked on to kindly. This is demonstration enough that the media, like a bomb or a missile, is also seen as a weapon.
But don't take my thoughts on this. A Times report examining ties between the Bush administration and former senior officers who acted as paid TV analysts said they got private briefings, trips and access to classified intelligence meant to influence their commentsThe NY Times quoted Robert Bevelacqua, a retired Green Beret and former Fox News analyst, as saying, "It was them (the Bush administration) saying, 'We need to stick our hands up your back and move your mouth for you."'
Kenneth Allard, a former NBC military analyst who taught information warfare at the National Defense University, told the Times the campaign amounted to a "coherent, active," sophisticated information operation.
As the situation in Iraq deteriorated, he saw a gap between what analysts were told in private briefings and what subsequently was revealed in inquiries and books.
"Night and day," he told the Times. "I felt we'd been hosed."
Some analysts said they had suppressed doubts about the situation in Iraq for fear of jeopardizing their access.
The Times said it based much of its report on 8,000 pages of e-mail messages, transcripts and records it secured by suing the Defense Department and which it said described years of private briefings, trips and what it called "an extensive Pentagon talking points operation."
It said Pentagon documents referred to the military analysts as "message force multipliers" or "surrogates" who could be counted on to deliver administration "themes and messages" to millions of Americans "in the form of their own opinions."
The big fear now is that Bush & Company will attack Iran before leaving office. Never mind why they would do this, lets look at when they would do this. The Air Force has specially built penetrating munitions. They were specifically designed with Iran's bunkers in mind. The delivery date for these bombs is this month. The modifications to the B-52's that would carry them is scheduled to be complete this month. The bases in the mid-east that also have to be changed to handle the bombers and the weapon are due to be completed this month. Between all the talk of Iran's nuclear weapons program, no one has bothered to ask if we are getting this information from the same sources as those who told us about Iraq's weapons of mass destruction. You remember them, don't you? Just like the tooth fairy and Santa Clause, they turned out to be untrue. Not one international nuclear scientist either independently or working for the UN, believes Iran is any where close to developing a nuclear bomb. Not one.
Monday, April 21, 2008
The Quiet
My old car had a lot of issues. It wasn't the transmission dying or the passenger door not closing all the way or gas making it to four dollars a gallon that finally made me get rid of it. It was the radio failing. With no radio, I was alone with my thoughts on long drives to and from gigs at night. You ever try to crunch the miles between San Francisco and Modesto with nothing to listen to but the inside of your own head on a Tuesday night? I would much prefer water-boarding instead.
It's not that I am crazy or evil or suffer from a major mental defect, it's just that no one these days has to listen to themselves if they don't want to. Internet, TV, Cellphone- you name it, we are doing anything but hearing ourselves.
The radio went out in my car along with the CD player. Suddenly, I had to negotiate my way through traffic and hours of darkness without my steady Novocaine drip of shouting voices from talk stations, and loud music when I need to yell. I noticed a sharp increase in my irritability. I realized that my frustration with other drivers was on the rise.
I bought a new car. A 2002 Honda Civic si. I know, I could join an Asian gang in the Richmond district if I just get a spoiler on the back. I guess I bought a sound system surrounded by a car. A sporty car too! A car I no longer have to apologize for when I give people a lift. But all that alone time with me got me thinking that maybe I need to be willing to go down that rabbit hole of thoughts and see what's down there. Could be interesting.
I have a friend who has a cabin up north in a place that sounds strong and gay; Timbercove. It takes about 3 hours to get up there. Last weekend I made the drive in the old car. One last time together! I am lucky I have such a generous and busy friend to loan me her cabin for a weekend. It sits in the woods about a mile from the ocean. The first night, after the sun poetically dropped bellow the horizon, I thought someone had hung lights in the trees outside. It was the stars. I was not use to seeing them so clear and so bright. Years of squinting through the fog, pollution and obscuring lights of the city had stolen any sense of wonder about them. Then there was the sense of stillness. There was no wind that weekend, not even a breeze. The trees stood motionless, the sun and stars became real to my sense again and I hiked during the days.
When ever I go on a hike, I encounter two types of people.
1. A German couple on vacation.
2. A very white and very fat American family.
The German couple are always polite. I find them on trails far up in the hills. I think they are surprised to see an American make it so far up. They are also a little scared of me too. I think they know about us from all our crime TV shows and the statistics; there is a good chance I might be armed.
The American family is pasty white, blotchy with sun burns and stuffed into shorts. The kid, girl or boy, always displays an attitude best described as, Verruca Salt-ish. They are all winded, barely taking in the view around them and seem completely uncomfortable without the smell of the food court near by.
If I have learned anything from these outings, it is that the more beautiful the country, the more Red Necky the people who live there. Case in point. I am walking down a twisting back hill road. It's barely even that. It's not paved, there are sections that fall off to a creek bellow and it is remote. As I walk down it looking for a trail I have been told is around here, a giant pick-up truck with a dog in the back, a riffle across the rear window and a shirtless driver move past me at a speed I would not have thought possible on this"road." If deliverance had a float, this would of been it!
Those were about the extent of my interactions with fellow humans. The rest of the time, either on trails or down at the seas edge, I was alone. It was the first time in a long time that I felt alone and not lonely. It's not an awful place to be in. My experiment to hear my thoughts clearly was a success. Sort of. It was the thoughts themselves that concern me a bit. Again, nothing crazy or evil, just petty random thoughts about nothing. I realized that when you separate your head from all the ways you can distract yourself, those petty thoughts don't just go away. Instead of the usual, "I wonder if Law & Order is on tonight? I should get a new shirt for that gig this weekend. I think that girl is cute, but I am trying to stay single for a while. What the hell is this song about? That joke near the end of my set is too long. Why didn't she come up to me and say, nice show? I really want to drink less coffee. "
You hear this;
"WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE? WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE? WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?"
So that's why I turn the TV on first thing when I enter my bedroom. That's why I am depressed if I don't have e-mail to check. That's why I would rather remain transfixed by adult swims stoner programing than do anything like sincere self examination. Even though I want direction and need to figure some things out about why I do what I do and why I get involved with the same type of woman over and over again, it is easier to just sit in front of the TV and feel smart for making myself watch CNN. I might understand the refugee crisis in Iraq better than a lot of people, but I have been fleeing from myself for a long time now. The biggest mystery in my life is me.
When I sat in quiet for three days and allowed any thought to enter my head, it was like an avalanche. That first night, it felt like bee's had entered my head. There was nothing spiritual or deep going on in my gray matter, it was just a loud circus of mostly random mostly selfish worries about the future. The second day was a little better, but I got the feeling my mind was doing anything it could to not let me see beneath the steady stream of emotional static. But there, ever present in the back ground was that steady drum beat; WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?
You ever really try and be in the now? I know there were moments as a kid when I would be outside playing in the fading twilight of a summers day when my Mother called me in. I looked up and felt as if hours had gone by in a moment. Being in the now isn't really about knowing your in the now. Being in the woods is about finding out what's in the way of being in the now. Being in my head is about anything but being in the world as it really is now.
OK. Lots of deep thoughts there. The point is, I am probably not all that different from anyone else. I crave some better understanding of who I am and my relationship to the world, but as long as porn is practically beamed into my cerebellum, the sort of zen contemplation required to figure such things out is not going to happen easily.
That's just one distraction. The other stuff, the day to day tasks that seem oh so important are routines designed to keep me from myself. I know, it sounds like the sort of bullshit I should be rolling my eyes at and making fun of, but all I want is a little more calm. That's all. I am not asking for the secret to life or what my purpose is, just a little more inner calm. So far, this is what I have learned; if you want something different in life, you have to do something different. You have to be willing to look in the dark places.
I end this blog with an old joke about just that.
Outside a bar, a man sees another man looking for something under the lone street light. He goes over to him and asks, "Did you loose something?"
"Yes. My car keys." The other man says.
He agrees to help look for the missing car keys with him. After 10 minuets of walking around the area, the man stops and asks, "Are you sure you lost them here?"
The man pauses and says, "I didn't loose them here. I lost them in the alley back there." He says as he points to a darkened alley behind him.
"Why are you looking for them here then?"
"The light is better."
It's not that I am crazy or evil or suffer from a major mental defect, it's just that no one these days has to listen to themselves if they don't want to. Internet, TV, Cellphone- you name it, we are doing anything but hearing ourselves.
The radio went out in my car along with the CD player. Suddenly, I had to negotiate my way through traffic and hours of darkness without my steady Novocaine drip of shouting voices from talk stations, and loud music when I need to yell. I noticed a sharp increase in my irritability. I realized that my frustration with other drivers was on the rise.
I bought a new car. A 2002 Honda Civic si. I know, I could join an Asian gang in the Richmond district if I just get a spoiler on the back. I guess I bought a sound system surrounded by a car. A sporty car too! A car I no longer have to apologize for when I give people a lift. But all that alone time with me got me thinking that maybe I need to be willing to go down that rabbit hole of thoughts and see what's down there. Could be interesting.
I have a friend who has a cabin up north in a place that sounds strong and gay; Timbercove. It takes about 3 hours to get up there. Last weekend I made the drive in the old car. One last time together! I am lucky I have such a generous and busy friend to loan me her cabin for a weekend. It sits in the woods about a mile from the ocean. The first night, after the sun poetically dropped bellow the horizon, I thought someone had hung lights in the trees outside. It was the stars. I was not use to seeing them so clear and so bright. Years of squinting through the fog, pollution and obscuring lights of the city had stolen any sense of wonder about them. Then there was the sense of stillness. There was no wind that weekend, not even a breeze. The trees stood motionless, the sun and stars became real to my sense again and I hiked during the days.
When ever I go on a hike, I encounter two types of people.
1. A German couple on vacation.
2. A very white and very fat American family.
The German couple are always polite. I find them on trails far up in the hills. I think they are surprised to see an American make it so far up. They are also a little scared of me too. I think they know about us from all our crime TV shows and the statistics; there is a good chance I might be armed.
The American family is pasty white, blotchy with sun burns and stuffed into shorts. The kid, girl or boy, always displays an attitude best described as, Verruca Salt-ish. They are all winded, barely taking in the view around them and seem completely uncomfortable without the smell of the food court near by.
If I have learned anything from these outings, it is that the more beautiful the country, the more Red Necky the people who live there. Case in point. I am walking down a twisting back hill road. It's barely even that. It's not paved, there are sections that fall off to a creek bellow and it is remote. As I walk down it looking for a trail I have been told is around here, a giant pick-up truck with a dog in the back, a riffle across the rear window and a shirtless driver move past me at a speed I would not have thought possible on this"road." If deliverance had a float, this would of been it!
Those were about the extent of my interactions with fellow humans. The rest of the time, either on trails or down at the seas edge, I was alone. It was the first time in a long time that I felt alone and not lonely. It's not an awful place to be in. My experiment to hear my thoughts clearly was a success. Sort of. It was the thoughts themselves that concern me a bit. Again, nothing crazy or evil, just petty random thoughts about nothing. I realized that when you separate your head from all the ways you can distract yourself, those petty thoughts don't just go away. Instead of the usual, "I wonder if Law & Order is on tonight? I should get a new shirt for that gig this weekend. I think that girl is cute, but I am trying to stay single for a while. What the hell is this song about? That joke near the end of my set is too long. Why didn't she come up to me and say, nice show? I really want to drink less coffee. "
You hear this;
"WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE? WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE? WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?"
So that's why I turn the TV on first thing when I enter my bedroom. That's why I am depressed if I don't have e-mail to check. That's why I would rather remain transfixed by adult swims stoner programing than do anything like sincere self examination. Even though I want direction and need to figure some things out about why I do what I do and why I get involved with the same type of woman over and over again, it is easier to just sit in front of the TV and feel smart for making myself watch CNN. I might understand the refugee crisis in Iraq better than a lot of people, but I have been fleeing from myself for a long time now. The biggest mystery in my life is me.
When I sat in quiet for three days and allowed any thought to enter my head, it was like an avalanche. That first night, it felt like bee's had entered my head. There was nothing spiritual or deep going on in my gray matter, it was just a loud circus of mostly random mostly selfish worries about the future. The second day was a little better, but I got the feeling my mind was doing anything it could to not let me see beneath the steady stream of emotional static. But there, ever present in the back ground was that steady drum beat; WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?
You ever really try and be in the now? I know there were moments as a kid when I would be outside playing in the fading twilight of a summers day when my Mother called me in. I looked up and felt as if hours had gone by in a moment. Being in the now isn't really about knowing your in the now. Being in the woods is about finding out what's in the way of being in the now. Being in my head is about anything but being in the world as it really is now.
OK. Lots of deep thoughts there. The point is, I am probably not all that different from anyone else. I crave some better understanding of who I am and my relationship to the world, but as long as porn is practically beamed into my cerebellum, the sort of zen contemplation required to figure such things out is not going to happen easily.
That's just one distraction. The other stuff, the day to day tasks that seem oh so important are routines designed to keep me from myself. I know, it sounds like the sort of bullshit I should be rolling my eyes at and making fun of, but all I want is a little more calm. That's all. I am not asking for the secret to life or what my purpose is, just a little more inner calm. So far, this is what I have learned; if you want something different in life, you have to do something different. You have to be willing to look in the dark places.
I end this blog with an old joke about just that.
Outside a bar, a man sees another man looking for something under the lone street light. He goes over to him and asks, "Did you loose something?"
"Yes. My car keys." The other man says.
He agrees to help look for the missing car keys with him. After 10 minuets of walking around the area, the man stops and asks, "Are you sure you lost them here?"
The man pauses and says, "I didn't loose them here. I lost them in the alley back there." He says as he points to a darkened alley behind him.
"Why are you looking for them here then?"
"The light is better."
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Stuff I Learned This Weekend
Poster for this Years AID's ride from San Francisco to L.A.
"It doesn't end till AID's does."
Could be a long ride.
Reason to not put your website on a bumper sticker on the back of your car; this e-mail.
"Nice left turn ass hole!"
Fact; There are more plastic Flamingos in America than real ones.
Notice in Ukiah, CA hotel room just as it appears about the Internet;
"Pornography, gambling and other indecent use of this service is strictly prohibited. By using this service, you waive this Motel from all LIABILITIES incurring from usage of the Internet service."
Curiously, there is no judgement on the in room porn movies that are available on the TV.
Reason to not go out drinking with locales after a show demonstrated with this text message to me;
"Fuck it, I'm at home. See U in the lobby 2moorow."
Time this text message was sent; 5:07AM.
The Mona Lisa has no eye brows. It was the fashion of the day for a woman to shave them off. This is a trend that has moved lower on the female body as time has passed.
Because of their natural reflective quality, most lip sticks contain fish scales.
That's right ladies, you are putting dead fish skin on your mouth.
Enjoy.
"It doesn't end till AID's does."
Could be a long ride.
Reason to not put your website on a bumper sticker on the back of your car; this e-mail.
"Nice left turn ass hole!"
Fact; There are more plastic Flamingos in America than real ones.
Notice in Ukiah, CA hotel room just as it appears about the Internet;
"Pornography, gambling and other indecent use of this service is strictly prohibited. By using this service, you waive this Motel from all LIABILITIES incurring from usage of the Internet service."
Curiously, there is no judgement on the in room porn movies that are available on the TV.
Reason to not go out drinking with locales after a show demonstrated with this text message to me;
"Fuck it, I'm at home. See U in the lobby 2moorow."
Time this text message was sent; 5:07AM.
The Mona Lisa has no eye brows. It was the fashion of the day for a woman to shave them off. This is a trend that has moved lower on the female body as time has passed.
Because of their natural reflective quality, most lip sticks contain fish scales.
That's right ladies, you are putting dead fish skin on your mouth.
Enjoy.
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