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An update of sorts

Marvin is doing well. In fact we just got back from going to a place where people with parakeets receive medicine and I wish I could say specifically what was going on however recently this conversation happened:

Me: Are you still wanting to keep this secret?

Marvin: Yep

Me: Can I at least say what the situation is since I’m not identifying you?

Marvin: I’d prefer if you didn’t.

So, onward with the parakeets and the Who Is Marvin and whatnot. I was pretty nervous about going to this particular aviary, shall we say (side note: that may not be the best metaphor) because for some reason it just freaked me out even though I’d heard that the mood in these places is light but when you really stop and think about it the spectre of death is right around the corner (past the inspirational posters and shelves of little porcelain angels), but then when you really stop and think about it, the spectre of death is always right around the corner. But at aviaries, when you go out to use the bathroom in the hall you hear some barfing/retching sounds, which is weird because so far Marvin hasn’t felt barfy/retchy.

But anyway, aside from the fact that someone was crying in there which then triggered my feeling like I wanted to cry response, it wasn’t bad at all and the chairs were comfy and I was able to avert my gaze when needles were being inserted into things (pin cushions, voodoo dolls, haystacks) and the magazines were gossipy and I marvel at the way some of the people with parakeets keep their spirits high. Speaking of keeping your spirits high, Marvin and another family member and I (spine-tingling side note: would it be nuts if it turned out that Marvin was ME? That would be an exciting twist, speaking strictly of narrative. But Marvin isn’t me.) listened to this guided visualization meditation CD because Marvin and this family member had gone to a meditation class and I hate that I’m so immature however I had a tough time not laughing during the CD because the woman leading it had a speech impediment. I’m not making this up. Her voice was still relaxing though, in an unfortunately comical way, and when she told us to relax and let it all out and someone farted (yet again, not me!) I tried to keep a straight face but I just couldn’t instead emitting the kind of laugh that’s produced from trying really hard not to laugh. A snortle-splosion.

In other news, I was just invited to play on a softball team. Like right this very second. My response? “Are you looking for someone who’s actually good at sports?” I just want to make sure these people are as serious about it as I am because if I have to carry the team again I’ll be pissed.

What team? What do you mean by again? (That’s you saying that.)

I’m referring to the time I led the 1968 Olympic downhill skiing team to victory before I tore all my rotator cuffs and had to have them tailored. It was a nightmare because the tailor didn’t know what he was doing. “Are you not trained in surgery and buttons?” I demanded. “You’re dangling by a thread there,” Armando yelled back, jabbing at the air with his little chalk marker thing which may or may not actually be soap. I forget what happened next but I was hauled off by security even though I was an injured —and now irate—Olympic medalist in an ill-fitting shirt.

In other news, James Fletcher will be appearing on my show soon. I mentioned him on the last show and I can’t get his album out of my mind! (Track number 4 “Don’t Say a Word” is my current favorite.)

Also, I have pictures of the food I ate in first class (did I mention I flew first class on my way out here? I did? A million times? Never mind then) because I was planning on interviewing myself about it, however I haven’t gotten around to it probably because I insist that I fax myself a request and I have neither a fax machine nor the time to deal with some spoiled starlet’s ridiculous demands.

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The Daily Alison (Bacon jam, hold the pants… with guest Joel Stein)

A few things: After this interview Joel Stein got in touch to say that with hindsight he would have changed his answer to apple butter. “The correct answer is mustard!” I yelled into the phone, even though he’d emailed me. Sometimes I do not know how to get through to that man. Also, here’s the article he mentioned where he took the Narcissistic Personality Disorder Test.

Oh and I think I said that he used to write for TIME but he very clearly still does write for TIME. I don’t know what to say for myself.

And lastly, if I were a wiz at audio editing I think I could have punched up the audio when he was talking to make for a more enjoyable listening experience however I’m not an audio editing wiz, nor even a video editing wiz. My expertise is limited to being delightful and having great hair. It’s a shame. If you happen to be one of the aforementioned wizzes though, do get in touch.

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Breaking news about my hat…

from the TONYblog…

Holly Golightly

The weather outside is beginning to be frightful but my hat with a pom-pom on the top is delightful. Actually, it’s not really. I’m sad to report there’s some give in the pom and so it was really rocking back and forth as I walked down the street yesterday, like I had a tiny cheerleader on my head. It made me think of the way Brian described the physics of his teenage hair. But you know where you won’t need a hat? At a rock show. Those are notoriously sweaty. Speaking of, I once tried to use the word sweaty in every single blurb I wrote for a different publication. It’s just a good rock word, you know? But I don’t know that Holly Golightly, whom you’ll be seeing tonight, is sweaty per se. But if she wore my pom-pom hat she would be.

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Today's TONYblog 1 Thing

you guys read me on the TONYblog, right? I post every day.

From left to right: Zach Galifianakis, Brian Posehn, Maria Bamford, Patton Oswalt, Granola Parfait

The Comedians of Comedy tour is going to be trundling into Irving Plaza on Saturday, and I’d recommend you put down the—what is that you’re holding? A copy of Mad Magazine?–and go check it out. An array of comedians will be dancing for the Man (that’s bitter Gen X speak for "telling jokes and being funny") and you’d be silly to miss it. Names? Okay! Here they come: Patton Oswalt, Zach Galifianakis Whose Name I Butchered in This Vlog, Maria Bamford and more! Go for the lightbulbs, stay for the chickens crossing the road. Then come back early for the dead babies and keep your fingers crossed for a Helen Keller or two. Come to think of it, if those are the kinds of jokes you’re looking for, you’d be better off reading a tome that was as near and dear to my pubescent heart as Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret?, and that was Truly Tasteless Jokes.


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Today's TONYblog 1 Thing

This one’s mine but you should look into getting one that’s similar.

Happy October 1, everyone. By this point you should be neck-deep in apple bobbing and nary an idle moment should go by that you don’t admire the bountiful horn of plenty placed on a nearby horizontal surface (I keep mine on Dustin’s desk). Now, should you not yet have a horn of plenty or comparable cornucopia, you should march out right now to get one, because otherwise you’ll have nowhere to keep your gourds and Indian corn. I’d also recommend jumping or taking naps in freshly raked piles of leaves, drinking cider and storing nuts in your cheeks for winter. Before long you’ll be cutting eyeholes in a white sheet and mock-scaring the bejesus out of neighborhood children, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. For tonight there is only love and also the New York Film Festival. Something tells me you like movies. Am I right?

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Today's TONYblog 1 Thing


Don’t be fooled by their smiles.

What will you be doing tonight, my pets? If you said going home to your dog-eared copy of TV Guide and going over your emergency television-watching schedule that you uploaded onto various media including your Palm Pilot, Treo, Sidekick, cell phone, digital watch, home-arrest ankle bracelet, automatic coffeemaker with LCD display and stupid iHome alarm clock that you hate, you would be wrong, wrong, wrong. You don’t even have a Palm Pilot. Instead you’ll be going to Joe’s Pub to hear Lucinda Black Bear, which is neither (more…)

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