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Author Archive | Alison Rosen

If I ran for president

You know in school how you learn about the famous Nixon/Kennedy debate where Nixon lost to that MTV VJ Kennedy because he was all hot media and Kennedy was cold media and understood TV and something about the color of ties?

Well if McCain loses and they trace anything back to this debate I think they will point out that he looks like a little old man when he walks around and that he would have done much better to have stood still while making his points instead of doddering around all grandpa like. I mean, he looks like my grandfather, who is dead. Lest I have not made my point, what I’m trying to say is that when he walks around, it’s clear he is an old man. Granted, when I walk around it’s clear I am an old man, which is why were I to run for president I would make sure to be rolled around in a wheelchair so as to appear youthful. Like a youthful FDR. “There is nothing to fear but fear itself, pull my finger!” I will say, as they roll me by. I will say this while puffing on a pipe and inventing alphabet soup agencies. “Polio?” they will whisper as I go flying down a hill in my shoddy wheelchair.”But I thought polio was something from the past?” they will frown, as my wheelchair hits a divot and I am thrown into a tree. “Well, she’s an old soul,” someone will say, by way of explanation.

Am I mixing up my presidents? Well, you get the idea at least.

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More about my internet problems

Waiting around, not knowing when my internet will leave me, unable to focus on anything because of the gnawing sensation, surprised and overjoyed when it’s here and then crushed when suddenly it’s gone. Wondering when it will return, if it will return… Am I dating the internet? I’m certainly getting fucked by it!

I’m sorry, I know you don’t like when I go blue however I had no choice.

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Bedside vigil for my internet connection

Imagine if your beloved relative was lying in a hospital bed fading in and out of consciousness and you were trying to desperately squeeze all your questions about your past and family into the precious few lucid moments because when this person dies, there goes all that history and all those memories? Well imagine that instead of a relative, it’s your fucking internet connection that’s about to give up the ghost and every now and then it seems to actually be working and you’re like “wait wait! just give me my email! come back! just tell me the weather forecast! don’t go! I need to google mysel…. hello? NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! Fight, fight! I’m not ready to live without my internet connection!”

And then again it’s gone. I can’t take this emotional roller coaster.

Thankfully I already talked to the nutsacks at Time Warner though and I explained that I work from home and I’m losing business and they kindly let me know that this is for residential use. Do they think I’m selling rubber stamps online or something?

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I'll be on Red Eye Wednesday night/Thursday morning

So tonight I was on the train when who should walk in but one of the producers of Red Eye. “I heard you won!” he said excitedly. “Yes, it’s true,” I coolly responded, because at this point I was tired of the little people with their mundane words of praise and banal well wishes. He wanted to know if I felt like maybe Red Eye had played a part in making me the phenom that I am today. He didn’t use the word phenom, but I could see it in his eyes.

I grew royally miffed and really let him have it.

By the way, when I grow royally miffed that means I’m miffed but wearing a crown or some other kind of regal headwear. Could even be a purple fez or gilded sombrero.

I mean, I’m just so tired of people wanting a piece of me. All day long my life has changed.

And then I agreed that maybe Red Eye could claim a slice of my comedic yeah-sure-whateverness and he said I ought to put a shout out on my blog so here goes:

Hey Red Eye, thanks!

Anyway, I’ll be on Red Eye Wednesday night/Thursday morning.

In other news, my neighborhood is very Halloweeny and I love it because it’s Halloweeny in the third grade sense of that word, not the horror sense of the word.

In even more news, I’m reading Twilight which all the other 13 year olds read ages ago. I think but I’m late to this YA party. Y.A. is young adult, by the way. See, it went down like this:

Another adult: Are you a reader?
Me: In theory
The other adult: I mean, do you like to read? Books?
Me: Well, I know how if that’s what you mean.
The other adult: Have you read any of the Twilight books? I can’t put them down.
Me: I haven’t even heard of them!

And then there I was, searching the teen fiction section of Barnes & Noble for a gift for my imaginary teen cousin.

And now I can’t put the book down either, which makes typing kind of difficult to say the least.

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Even MORE photos!


I have this part of my set where I talk about how my attempts to pose for a certain photo went horribly awry and the above just subtly illustrates my point. Why was my left arm dangling there? Why did I not put it behind the girl next to me like everyone else in the photo? I need a limb stylist.


With Ellis Henican


a) I look like I’m sitting on a toilet. b) this confirms my suspicion that I glow. c) I get the toilet look when I’m cold. d) I don’t think the coat was he greatest addition to the outfit but I was cold. e) Glad so many photos are of me in the coat!


Here I am looking ravishing while Ray looks on proudly.

These are from the NY Funniest Reporter site, by the way. Go there and be greeted with my face. And some music.

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I did stand up!

And I won the contest. I’m New York’s Funniest Reporter! How does it feel, you may be wondering? Well, for one thing, now I’m only going to be funny onstage. From now on when I feel the urge to make a joke I’m just going to pull a little pad out of my back pocket and jot it down with a golf pencil, or perhaps dict it into the dictaphone that I also plan to start carrying around. Yes I know dict isn’t a word. And what will I do with the cravat that I plan to incorporate into my wardrobe? I’ll wear it around my neck, silly. What else would I do? Also, now that I’ve been anointed professionally funny I will cease laughing at other people’s jokes. Should someone crack a joke around me I will merely grunt as a way of acknowledging while I make sure a pained expression flashes across my face. I’ll probably start crying for no reason, not just once a month but around the clock, because life has been exposed to me as a veil of tears and a sham. Speaking of shams have you guys seen the commercial for ShamWow? It’s the chamois that’s super duper absorbent or something? Like if you could clean with a maxi pad? Well why would you put the word “sham” in your product name? I mean really.

Also I’ve noticed that bits of my set are popping up on people’s blogs but they’re popping up with slight inaccuracies and I’m fighting the urge to email the people to correct them because really, what kind of asshole am I considering being?

I should have a tape in a week or so and once I do I’ll upload!

A couple pictures? Okay then!

Here I am with my comedy mentors (each reporter was paired with professional comedian mentors) Ray Ellin and Leighann Lord.


And here’s a shot from when I did Red Eye in California that I meant to post previously. This was during a commercial break.

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Things I'm just having fun with

Wendy and I have thrice updated our page so I hope you’re all up in that shit.

Also, tomorrow when I do stand up I’m going to “just have fun with it.”

And then I was thinking, is there really anything in life that you shouldn’t just have fun with?

And then I was thinking that I guess you shouldn’t just have fun with heart surgery.

Although I think the doctors on Grey’s Anatomy just have fun with most of their surgery, but that’s TV and not real life and plus they’re really shitty doctors, I know this because they left a towel in that one woman. Remember?

Oh and by the way now that I’m doing stand up I expect a whole bunch of hackneyed observations to start flowing out of me like, like, what’s a standuppy metaphor? Like herpes out of Paris Hilton, am I right?

I hope you’re as excited about this new turn of events as I am.

Okay then.

Oh, also: earlier I was at the Starbucks inside Barnes and Noble which is doubly offensive to Brooklyn since it’s all mom and pop around here but there I was, lining the coffers of Big Coffee Beans and Books and there was a pastry called something like “Flaky strawberry fruit purse” and I was thinking that it would be funny if it said “with real quarters baked inside.” But it didn’t say that, because it’s a pastry, not a comedian.

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