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It seems to me I’m way overdue in terms of posting. Allow me to rectify that with a crapload of photos.

In this one I made my friends pose for a photo with me and then I took it and this is what came out, thus proving I only have eyes for me. Sadly this isn’t the first time something like this has happened.

Here I am with my friend Yami.

Here’s me and Yami in the foreground and Matt in the background. I’m telling you, I’m kind of gifted when it comes to photography.

Here’s me and Yami and Jo.

Here’s Tobey looking up at my mom and being adorable.

Here’s me trying on tons of sunglasses at Costco.

And then I decided I wanted to put one of these in the middle of my living room

Here’s the dog park where my parents take Tobey. Sadly he doesn’t like dogs. He’s afraid of them.
Here’s a really agreeable balcony we saw on Balboa Island.
Here’s a little boy pointing to the seals that had taken over a boat near the island.

Here’s the boy playing with Tobey, who happens to be beloved by children. He’s like the Velveteen Rabbit, only real. Okay maybe that wasn’t the best analogy. Anyway the next day this little girl came up in a stroller and began talking to Tobey and my mom and after they chatted for awhile (she also had a Maltese but it died, it was named Pebbles after the TV she told us) her dad said, “Say goodbye now.” She looked at my mom and me and said, “bye bye” and then looked at Tobey and said, “woof woof.” It was one of the best things I’ve seen/heard in a long time.

You can kind of see the seals here, but only kind of. If you look between the two white posts they’re the dark mass closer to the right post.

Here’s the view of the water from the little island. There’s a big island and a little island on Balboa. I think there is at least. I’m terrible with directions and geography and topography and cartography and calligraphy an
d epidemiology and psychology and hagiography and biology and yoyology (study of yo-yos)
Here’s Tobey in the car.

Here’s a photo from the Brooklyn Botanical Garden. I spent the longest time trying to come up with a leprechaun pun and then gave up.

Ducks at the Brooklyn Botanical Garden.
Cherry blossoms at the BBG.
More cherry blossoms.
Okay so I’m posting these out of order. Here’s a photo taken a couple nights ago in California in front of Detroit, which isn’t in Michigan, it’s in Costa Mesa. We were standing there and then this woman came up and took our photo. I can’t remember why we went back to back. Probably because we were fighting crime.

And then here I am on the Morning Show with Mike and Juliet. Have I explained that I got a call at 8am to be on air at 9am? I’m still talking about it. They didn’t even have time for mascara. Thank God I’m so naturally effervescent and also modest.
And then here’s where I made this face.

And then here’s where I smiled as if desperately looking for approval.

Here’s where I said something magnificent.

Here’s where I was incredulous and/or waiting for my turn to speak.

Oh hey everyone. I’m writing this post from the back of a pig. As you’ve likely heard by now, swine flu doesn’t come from having contact with actual swine, however no one really believes that and so the line for pig rides was super duper short. I’d be a fool not to take advantage of it!

You’re probably wondering a few things:

1) Yes it smells.

2) No, not like bacon.

3) A saddle, duh!

4) Bessie

5) She’s about five which in pig years is… hm… anyone speak pig?

6) Thus far we haven’t stumbled on any truffles but Bessie isn’t blind.

7) It’s quite relaxing really. I feel close to nature and sort of grounded because the pig is fairly low to the ground and yet the feeling of the wind whipping through my hair is liberating and also exotic. I could get lost in the rhythm of the pig’s loping gait.

8) To be honest, I could do without the attitude though.

9) Aloof. That’s how I’d describe it. Aloof and entitled. Like it’s going to take a little more than me to really dazzle this pig.

10) Not that it really matters what this pig thinks of me but I mean, what, does it mean nothing that I was a national merit scholar? Huh, pig? Is that not good enough for you?

11) Uh oh, there’s a mud patch up ahead.

12) Yes, a mud patch. Just go with it.

13) Uh oh, I’m getting a call on the pig phone. Anyone know how to answer this thing?

14) Just a regular ring, not an oink. That would be silly!

15) It’s my mom. She wants to know if I want to go to Costco.

16) How did she even get this number? That’s curious.

17) I’m going to turn around and ride back to the pig stables now.

18) No, not a pen, that’s a myth. These pigs live in a stable.

Hey blog readers. How’s it going? Anyone tell you how great you look today? No really, you’re glowing. There’s a certain radiance about you. Also, you smell fantastic. Like lilacs and dryer sheets.

Here’s a link to my Mike and Juliet appearance. http://www.mandjshow.com/videos/its-the-monday-morning-mix-8/ Don’t judge too harshly. Need I remind you that they called me at 8am and I was on TV at 9am? It was all dreamlike. All dreamlike and shit.

Last night I watched Jamie Kennedy’s documentary Heckler. I recommend it highly to anyone who’s ever felt thin-skinned or felt the need to sling mud at people in the public eye. I put myself in the former category and yet the irony is that I’m also a critic, or rather, have been paid to be one and have written five thousand music reviews and some fewer than that film reviews and also book reviews and other kinds of reviews. But I’ve never really been a dipshit about it. And now that I’m sort of in the public eye I’m finding that the things people write about you have a way of really really getting under your thin skin and making you want to hide and not keep putting yourself out there, which is what the movie is all about.

I’m sorry, I just got distracted by a weird noise that I think came from my stomach and sounded like a bird sitting on some eggs. I think there are hens roosting in my stomach! Or maybe not hens. What’s a bird that coos? A pigeon? I’m going to ask my dad. Hold please.

Pigeons and doves. That’s what he says and he would know because he’s old. No offense, dad.

So yeah, there are pigeons and doves in my GI tract. AWESOME.

I guess that’s all I have to say right now.

I posted a couple pictures today on twitpic. You guys saw those, right?

Don’t worry internet darlings! This morning I looked at my blog and saw that the last time I posted was Monday and I wondered how I’d fallen into this sorry state of non-posting. It’s not like I don’t have things to talk about. For one, I bought a lot of paper towels and toilet paper yesterday! That’s exciting! Also, I have important things to discuss about milk! And I talked to a few comedy manager people and all that’s been churning around in my brain like what happens in your stomach before you throw up. There’s essentially a tidal wave of stomach bile in my brain, so you can imagine what it’s doing to my hair. It’s not good. Perhaps that’s the reason the guy at the store recently fixed me in his steely gaze and despite all the progress we’d made recently (lately he’s just been saying “hello”) said “how you feeling? you feeling ok?” prompting me to realize that my imaginary illness has taken a turn for the worse. That was a long messed up sentence and I don’t care. I don’t care, people.

I do care, that’s the thing. I care deeply. I have half a mind to just go back to that sentence and fix it. But I’m not going to. Must move forward. Always moving forward. Except for when I’m looking back. Then I’m just moving forward but looking back and running into things.

Also, I think pre-conditions are the same as conditions. I’ve thought long and hard about this and I just think they’re the same. Are you with me? Let me know.

And I think I’m on Red Eye tomorrow. Yay!

First of all I feel that weather.com didn’t accurately emotionally prepare me for this onslaught of rain. “Showers”? It’s more like, um, what are really strong showers? Hoses. It’s hoses out there. Maybe even hoses with the spray attachment.

Second of all, check this out! There’s hope for the truly lazy! Some mornings I’ll sit at my computer and wish I could click on things without having to use my hands. I’m not even sure why. Probably because they’re otherwise occupied holding a duckling or playing cat’s cradle. Well, good news for me!

Hint: it’s me! Look, there I am!

Also, I’m drinking diet rootbeer even though just a few days ago I said I didn’t like it but apparently now I do. In the words of Anna, when I explained to her that I can think I don’t like something and then all of a sudden change my mind, “Well now I feel like I can’t trust you!” Indeed!

Anyway, click on the above to enjoy my somewhat amusing face. Oh, and some words.

This was a gift from my landlords who are the best landlords ever and with whom I just spent a delightful Easter. What should I name him?

This is one of those blog posts where I write about what I’m going to write about. Like a to do list in a post! Here’s what you have to look forward to:

an explanation of why I have two of the world’s ugliest digital watches

a discussion of lame air instruments (maybe)

some pictures from Red Eye

a video of Anna and me after Red Eye

videos of Dustin and me

more me me me me me

a veritable me-palooza

a picture of me in the green room of Red Eye plus some screen grabs plus clips

um, there was something else

oh yes! I figured out what kind of dog I want! it’s a Bolognese. A dog covered in meat sauce!

sadly I seem to have settled on a dog which not only isn’t in shelters but isn’t really in America. I mean, it is, but it’s a rare breed and super expensive and I’m sure there’s a wait list and it’s not really realistic and so I won’t be getting this dog, I’ll just be blogging about it. Damn you, page 47 of the AKC dog book!

it wasn’t really page 47, I just made that up because I’m too lazy to go get the book and see what page this dog is on

have I discussed with you guys the way I keep moving the jokes around in my stand up set as if somehow I’m going to find the perfect formula? I’m truly fixing what isn’t broken and also driving myself nuts. And when I say fixing what isn’t broken that’s because obviously my stand up set is perfect as is and very funny. If you were to hear it you would probably die of laughter. You would asphyxiate on hilarity. You would choke on chuckles. You would gag on guffaws. You would triangulate on titters. If you were to recover you would probably point out that triangulate on titters makes no sense but you wouldn’t have a chance to recover because you’d be laughing too much.

Is there some kind of game going on? I hear game type cheers.

oh and Happy Easter!

I mentioned a cheap digital watch I use to time things in the last post. Here it is. Still accidentally set to wake me up at three am until the day I die.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

While rifling through my nightstand drawer just now I smelled something which suddenly reminded me of the way Woofie, my first dog, used to smell. It’s sort of disturbing that a Woofie odor wafted out of my nightstand but it made me happy nonetheless.

In other news I’m home from doing Red Eye and I’m good but kind of strangely banged up feeling due to aforementioned armpit trauma plus a headache plus I cut my head on a spoon (it’s a long story, one I talked about on Red Eye. Ok fine it’s a short ridiculous story) and also I ate some eggplant and apparently I’m allergic to eggplant or something else in the dish because the inside of my mouth sat up and said howdy if by that you mean got all inflamed. So yeah, I’ve been better. On the upside, I’ve taken the makeup off which is always a pain in the heinie. Heiney? Hiney?

Also I have this cheap digital watch here on my desk that I was using to time my stand up set and somehow in the course of figuring out how to use the stopwatch feature I’ve set the alarm and I can’t figure out how to turn it off. I’m thinking I might take a hammer to it. Or put it in the freezer. Or just yell at it.