I Do A Mean Minnesota Accent.

It's odd, because I'm not from there. Go figure. Anyway it came in handy in the run of Rich Zeroth's SWOLLEN HEAD, which wrapped up last night. I got to play Rich's Mom, among other things. It was a treat to be a part of it and get to meet some truly fab folks. Many thanks to Rich who let us have fun in our parts, and who bought me 4 Hoegardens (after buying us all beers for backstage during the show mind you) and did not laugh at me when I got the hiccups at the cast party. Let me re-write that- I got the hiccups AND KEPT DRINKING at the cast party. Wino alert!














Rich & Sara yuk it up.

Speaking of winos, here's one I know. Real friendly like and all:














Like the Tubes said so well: She's a Beauty.


And here's two more. Gosh, those show folk love their drinks!














Fantastic Mike Barry (of Weiner Philharmonic) & Delightful Gabe Liedman (of duo Gabe & Jenny).

Special love to Jon Friedman who produced & directed and managed not to blow a gasket during tech nightmares aplenty last night:














Jon would like you to know he does not smoke. Cigarettes.

I Gots 50 Things To Say In A Cheeky Kinda Way.

This sums up last night's plan, which began with drinking at Bar On A during happy hour. It was supposed to be a comedy-free night. There was a comedy show going on in the back room. Go figure. We escaped to Doc Holiday's and then, it was off to Webster Hall to see...




The Lady Sovereign herself. Do yourselves a favor. Buy her album "Vertically Challenged". Go see her in Central Park on July 6th (or whenever, I'mnot your godamnned secretary). She is the best of the best, we love her. She was awesome live and so much fun. How you can be such an amazing MC and have so much fun onstage- it boggled my mind. Her fly kept coming down and she kept making jokes about it, saying she was wearing boy's jeans she got from a skate shop. She's so in my gang. Give it up for the SOV.



And then, there was Mike Skinner. I was worried as I heard the first US Streets show three or so years ago was kind of a mess (that's when he was being promoted heavily by VICE Mag). Have to say- no reason to doubt. It was fucking GRAND. I had such a blast. He's the real deal and just as you'd imagine him to be. He kept thanking the audience for listening to the Streets. HE made us all crouch on the floor- THE ENTIRE HUGE BALLROOM did his bidding (and I had to clutch at Nathan and almost made him fall on the creepy gay guy next to him who kept talking the whole time). There was dancing and hopping and screaming and he said, "So let's have a little dance shall we?" and the room went wild. It was such a treat as I've wanted to see him for so long. He yelled at the prissy VIP section for being boring, he poured a couple of bottles of brandy into the audience, and at the end, he took off his shirt and crowd surfed during his own encore. It was so fucking badass. Go buy all the Streets albums if you are such a dipshit you don't have them already. Alright then, well go buy them again. Let's push things forward.


And then there was booze. Well, I should say MORE booze. At Lucy's in the Village as the smell at Doc's was too much to bear I'm afraid. Plus it was raining like a motherfucker. Amazing all around.

Tonight's The Night, Rod Stewart.

It reads, "Fuck Pig".



















Reading my essay discussing being a horny little kid at SMUT. It's going to be published in an upcoming NYC comics anthology- more details to follow.














Comedy partner Sara & SMUT host and all around artist Desiree Burch.















Graffitti on a truck on 1st Avenue.











































Stills from our recent Comedy Central shoot. We're supposed to be at a wedding. It's shot at a funeral parlor. Creeptastic.

I do love those Michigan boys. Vince, John and Jesse at Beauty Bar after Friends & Family, Josh Haness's sunday night fun show.

Lots of hi-jinx, lots of funs and friendships and whiskies and PBRs and such. It's been a fun couple of days.

Promotin' and Emotin'.

Eww, that title hurt me a bit internally but it had to be done. I am clearly still a tad bit tipsy from my sojurn from after my show to Soho, then the Lower East Side, then the East Village. I digress.

My pal Colleen (pictured flipping the b as we ladies are wont to do) who is a fucking bad ass, has a new totally aws blog based on her Brooklyn stoop adventures. Check it out. I came home, discovered it, and was thrilled. It made me laugh tonight and I was in no laughing mood. I am stuffed full of falafel and self-righteousness and before I clicked on it, I was being just a real pouty-pus. This is an animal much like the platypus but it is A) not a marsupial and therefore, not pouch egg baring and B) not on the Australian continent. It is a mere cousin of said beast, a tall red-headed hot mess of a creature, prone to sulking and eating red-wax wrapped Babybels and reading Peter Bagge comix and listening to George Benson too much.

Check out Colleen's stoop blog. Don't be a creep.

SMUT Tonight!

How About You Just Don't Fucking Speak To Me, You Drunk.
Originally uploaded by Brandy For Sale..

Short notice, but hey all- come on down to see little Miss Foul Mouth read in the weekly performance series, SMUT, hosted by the fantastic Desiree Burch. It's FREE! I will be swearing! And hopping around! Fan dancing! Ok, that part is a blatant lie.

Right now "Meet Me Halfway" by Kenny Loggins just came on my iTunes. If that doesn't make you want to come out I don't know what will.

SMUT
@ Galapagos Art Space
N. 6th & Wythe in Williamsburg
8 PM - Free!

I Will Love Again.

He's here.................. FINALLY!
Originally uploaded by Vidalia.

This gives me hope for the world.

Did I Mention I Was Born In Mississippi?

And ya'll can click here to take the Yankee or Dixie Quiz and see what your score is. Here's mine:

44% Dixie. Barely in Yankeedom.

I have to say, I got kind of a kick out of that. Barely, huh? Does this mean I put schmears of cream cheese on my cat-head biscuits?

Shut Your Cakehole And Let's Get It On.

Last night I had the pleasure of attending the lovely Katina's birthday party on the rooftop of a very tall building. I drank a ridiculously overpriced mint julep, and then scampered over to the karaoke birthday bash of Michael Terry. There was a lot of booze. It was fun. I will give you a shiny nickel if you guess the song I picked to sing.

The search for urban contentment.

Friend and Future Roommate, Porter Mason, was just drenched in the torrential rainstorm. He drug in a suitcase full of DVDs and delcared, "Tell everyone to ge to hell".

Then, as he unpacked, I forced him to watch NY1 where a recent play about rich people whining was reviewed and the phrase I used to title my blog was uttered with a straight face by the newscaster. It brought Porter & myself great enjoyment to mock it.

Now I shall begin to paw through Porter's impressive DVD collection in order to pick a rainy day treat to view. Or maybe I'll put on channel 11 and watch the atrociously bad lip-syncing on display on Soul Train. I used to watch Soul Train every Saturday afternoon with my dad when I was a kid, right after Loonet Tunes and American Bandstand. We're big fans of Mister Lou Rawls.

In closing, everybody's talking all this stuff about me, why don't they just let me live? Tell me why. I don't need permission to make my own decisions; that's my perogative.

Chafed.

According to the Post, [Angelina] Jolie tells Cooper she's inspired by the people she helps in her role as UN Goodwill Ambassador. "You think, 'Jesus, the things these people go through,' " she says. "I owe it to all of them to get myself together and stop whining about being tired and get there and get focused because, God, it's the least I can do with what they live with." --People.com


I bet other Hollywood-type actresses get really, really peeved with Angelina Jolie. I mean, really. It is VERY HARD to memorize three new pages of dialogue consisting of monosyllabic sentences the day before your shoot AND do your whole 2 hour Pilates routine in your home gym AND personally fire your 2nd personal assistant because she didn't adhere to the strict 1/4 Sweet & Low, 1/4 Spelnda, and JUST. A. DASH!!!!!! of Sugar in the Raw (and she claims she graduated magna cum laude from Penn State- HA!) in your skim-goat's milk mocha from Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf. And here comes THIS asshole, this nightmare spawned by that kook Jon Voight in some LSD-fuled haze, making you feel bad for just trying to do your job as an entertainer by being all altruistic and shit! Like SHE'S never been on Nutrisystem! Talk about starving. Harumph! I mean, you have kids, right? Just ask Carmelita, your nanny! AND, hey, they're kind of adopted. Well, that 11year old one is, since he's from your husband's 3rd marriage and all. And the NERVE of her, telling everyone she gives a third of her salary to charity! Well, you for one are very charitable, just last month you donated a dress you got for free from a stylist to one of those benefits for poor black women who can't do Suduko puzzles or some such thing, I don't know but it got a write up in Home & Gardens so that counts for something. And you know, some of us need to spend a third of our salary on upkeep, because those hair extensions and chin implants and labiaplasties aren't exactly handed out in Oscar goody bags, OK?!?

Angelina Jolie, I'd watch your back next time you drop into Kitson for a super cute $85 t-shirt if I was you.

For Terry.

Happy Father's Day to the best of the best.

Oh, and I'm sorry all the koi died.

Just Add Air Conditioning.

This is the first Saturday I've been able to sit on my ass with apolmb in over two months. No meetings, no phone calls to make, no reharsals, nothing. Aside from a few emails I am responsibility-free. As a result, and in preparation, I went out yesterday and spulrged at the famous Sahadi's Importers and got tons of fancy imported-like treats and then went next door to the best produce stand in the world for fresh veggies. Later this evening there will be a fabulous chick-pea and artichoke hearts salad with homemade dressing served. On the side, there will be fresh hummous from the best middle eastern restaurant which I used to live around the corner from on Atlantic Avenue, when I first moved to Brooklyn. It's called Fatoush and you can listen to the sounds of the BQE exit as you sup upon falafel and such.

While at Fatoush this past Friday, I also ordered a mini lamp pit-za, (not to be confused with pizza) which was utilized for all types of snacking earlier. I had quite the hangover from Thursday night's wicked debauchery and had to counter it by scarfing down mozarella and fresh herbs and lamb chunks. I mandate that, after consuming a piece of the pit-za that the remaining crust is to to be dipped in the lovely hummous, which I have spiked with copious amounts of hot sauce and all is to be washed down with the clean crispness of Poland Spring Raspberry-Lime Sparkling Water.

I am finishing reading the most fascinating book, which I can't go into detail about as it's not out yet. But it's written by one of my idols Christine Vachon and it's riveting. It makes me glad I know about film and theater producing and even more glad I didn't continue to pursue it. I'm also relaxing to a marathon viewing of the first season of Dr. Katz, Professional Therapist. What a magical day.

I am not picking up the phone, I am not cleaning (big shocker there, eh?), I am not doing a damned thing but luxuriating on the couch under the air conditioner in a pair of boy shorts and a tank top with my hair in a ponytail. Perhpas I should don a mumuu, get a box of bon bons and a romance novella and turn on Oxygen. The only thing that would make this day better would be some nicely placed necking with a tall gentleman (6' and over only need apply) and perchance a nude massage. I'll get to work on that. Let's see where the day takes us, my pets.

Pinch, Pinch, Pinch.

Becky's Flag Day Pageant was just the thing. Hilarious performers and great hosting from Ms. Yamamoto and the dulcet toned Tony Carnevale. Featured here: Michael Cyril Crieghton was the Boy Scout from Hell, Desiree Burch & Lang Fisher are Abe Lincoln and Dolly Madison at the Slavery Price Is Right!; Jack Kukoda answers all and any American Flag Trivia Questions you may (or may not) have. Later we supped at the delicious Sweetwater and then, somehow staggered to the train with Collins, Kukoda and Geoff & Chris from Elephant Larry in tow. (See creepy flourescent L train photos)

Jack and I then decided to go to Winnie's Bar (for those not in the know, it's a fave karaoke dive where you may on any given night see a Mexican dwarf or a Chinese mafia guy in an eye patch or my drunk ass trying to drink a cup of golf pencils while yelling at everyone about how love is a sham). There, at Jack's request, I sang "Alone" by Heart while he stood nearby, giving an enthusiastic thumbs up. Jack told me that some guys were trying to hit on me but I was too angry to be bothered with pesky menfolks. Later I sang "Hold The Line" but usually that's a Brandy & Sara duet and I was sad she wasn't there to help make fun of the yachting video like we always do. Also I had two Mai Tais too many and reflected again on what an asshole I was on Valentine's Day and vowed never, ever to behave in such an awful manner. Who's with me? Anyone? No? I guess I don't blame you.

Don't Tear Your Tortellini.

Instead why not come out and see the new version of Rich Zeroth's "Swollen Head" tonight at the Tank? Click on the picutre for more details. Then right after you could go to Brooklyn and check out...

Yeah, why not? I'm worth it. BONUS: I will indeed be wearing a flag bikini top. For reals, though.

Two Too Much!

flagdayflyer
Originally uploaded by Brandy For Sale..

After our fun appearances in Rich Zeroth's "Swollen Head" (directed & produced by the fantastic Jon Friedman) at 7:30 pm tomorrow, Sara and I will head out to Williamsburg to Galapgos to appear in the newest installment of classy comedianne Becky Yamamoto's "Yamaholiday" series.

Expect to be offended by our lack of respect for your country. I said YOURS.

She Was An American Girl.

Spent the Saturday after the show debut shooting our next karaoke opus. Starring the delightful Jerry Miller as a patriotic superhero of sorts and featuring the lovely Becky Yamamoto as his lady love, it was a hoot to create and also, a compelling study into the human pshyche. Highlights included Sara and I cussing out a star-struck 13 year old piece of tourist garbage after he insisted on stepping repeatedly in our frame to take a camera phone picture of Jerry. I think I told him to get his scrawny midwest ass out of the shot. Sara screamed that she hoped his plane home would go down. I still don't know what the big deal was- so what, Jerry was in a unitard? I guess they don't get a lot of actors clearly dressed up because they're filming a bit you're not a part of out in Minden, MI do they Ralph Jr.?!? Now take your sorry ass over to the Billabong store onb 42nd & Broadway and have that shriveled apple-head doll looking thing you call a "mother" shove her fake-nail bedecked paw into that there Pep Boys promotional fanny pack of hers and yank out some of Daddy's Oxycontin money so's you can get a nice new sweatshirt for to wear to church. G'won, git!

The shoot concluded at sunset on the Brooklyn Bridge, and I was struck with some form of patriotism. Or maybe just the need for an ultimate cheer. Either way.

We headed out to a fancy Indian feast in the East Village, where Sara and I were lured with free wine. Free wine, I tell you! It was grand. Thanks to our fantastic cast. If only the crew weren't such a pair of spiteful trolls.

Delicious Lemon Mousse With White Chocolate: The Kissing Booth Debut, Part II.

The fantastique Adira Amram, sparkling shooting star.
Lauren, TKB write staff member Matt and their adorable pal whose name I completely forgot because I am an asshole.
We did it! First snapshot post show.
"Barber stop dumping beers on yourself!"

The real star of the show: my godamnned hair.