NPR's Here & Now (produced out of Boston & recorded at MORTIFIED Boston a few months back) airs nationally today! If you've never checked out the live show here's a great sample of what it contains, coast to coast. If you listen close, you can hear me laughing really hard in the background.
http://www.here-now.org/shows/2007/03/20070330.asp
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Friday, March 30, 2007
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Dad Yells Alot.
Forgive all the spelling errors...I am the world's WORST IM-er. Click in the image to enjoy the spite! WHY THE FUCK IS THIS UNDERLINED AND HOW CAN I NOT MAKE THAT STOP?!?
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Workin' On My Night Moves.
Why, I ask you, did I go thru a period where I sang this fucking STUPID song over and over in a call and response to myself? I. DON'T. KNOW.
There is no excuse.
So what you doin'?
(Nothin', chillin' at the Holiday Inn). INDEED!
There is no excuse.
So what you doin'?
(Nothin', chillin' at the Holiday Inn). INDEED!
Monday, March 26, 2007
Matt's Party.
Please enjoy the video from this very special party, compliments of The Kissing Booth with help from the super talents of Anya Garrett, Oren Brimer, & Nathan Kloke. Thanks, pals!
MATT'S PARTY
written by Brandy Barber & Sara Jo Allocco
with Anne Altman, Michele Colyn, Claudia Cogan, Anne Carr, Giulia Rozzi, Katina Corrao, Michael Cyril Creighton, Nathan Kloke, Carolyn Castiglia, Matt Sears, John F. O'Donnell, & Matt McCarthy.
I NEVER, in caps, crossed out.
Great weekend, albeit a blur. The shows just keep getting more and more fun for us to do, and I am so proud of all the great people we've gotten to work with and who we will get to work with-there's a backlog of awesome performers we're excited to put up on our humble postage stamp sized stage. I have always liked collaborating much more than I liked being alone.
Anyway, speaking of being alone (and humming that signature tune from HEART as I type this mind you) I woke up at 11 am Sunday, still drunk. Roommate and BFF Porter Mason was staggering about the apartment, also still drunk and groggy, on his way out to rehearsal. I went out and sat on the couch and began devouring leftover chicken fingers from the trip to the Carrol Gardens diner we'd taken the night before (I use the term "night" loosely as it was daylight by the time we departed). This journey was made about the same time that a cab dropped us off and we realized we were lost in our own neighborhood (well I was) and, that we had tandem hiccups. Yikes.
As I chomped on deep fried relics of late night debauchery and watched Porter lurch out the door, I realzied I was alone for the first time in months. I am not exaggerating, I really have not been by myself for longer than an hour in months. What with working during the day (or putting on a hell of a ruse pretending to), show stuff, boys and various pals in residence at my pad for Brooklyn Friendships (TM), plus living with one of my best friends, I honestly have not had a day (or night) go by without companionship. Since...November? December? Something like that.
So here I was, feeling like I ate a tire, sore and notably bloated and nauseous. And I was struck with the challenge...what do I do with myself now? How do I get used to this again? Am I ok being alone? It was odd to not have a choice in the matter.
So I did what every lady such as myself would do in such circumstances. I put on Food Network, watched a bit of my favorite lady Nigella Lawson's Chefography, drank some flat 7 UP and went to sleep. Life was but a dream.
I woke up at 4 PM and decided to roust myself to the out of doors for the first time that day. I had a strong craving for sweets, so I strolled over to the local coffee place for a nibbling type of snack cake and some frou frou coffee drink full or dairy and sugar. Then I sat outside on a bench, smoking and people watching and synthesizing my sugar buzz.
A cute Dad and his toddler daugher walked out from the coffee place, and the little girl ran up to my leg. She thought I was her Mom- she was at that age where, all adults are friends- and she had her hand on my leg saying "Mama" before her Dad even knew what for. I smiled at her and felt guilty to be smoking.
The Cute Dad bounded over and picked her up. "Sorry."
I smiled at him and said, "Oh, no worries. What's her name?"
"Calliope. Callie, for short."
I said, "That's Greek? For some reason I feel like it is, right?"
And he said, "Yeah, I think so."
Meanwhile Callie was eyeing my chocolate chip Blondie and the glowing end of my Parliament with unmasked interest.
He said, "Well come on, Callie. Let's go see Mommy now."
And he asked if she could wave good bye to me, and she concurred over his shoulder as they walked away. I smoked, and smiled, and watched them until they turned the corner. For some dumb reason, I really wanted to cry, just right that moment.
Instead I went home and read the shoot scripts from Season One of Freaks & Geeks because I am so, so cool. Didn't know if you knew I was, but now, you clearly do.
Yuck.
Anyway, speaking of being alone (and humming that signature tune from HEART as I type this mind you) I woke up at 11 am Sunday, still drunk. Roommate and BFF Porter Mason was staggering about the apartment, also still drunk and groggy, on his way out to rehearsal. I went out and sat on the couch and began devouring leftover chicken fingers from the trip to the Carrol Gardens diner we'd taken the night before (I use the term "night" loosely as it was daylight by the time we departed). This journey was made about the same time that a cab dropped us off and we realized we were lost in our own neighborhood (well I was) and, that we had tandem hiccups. Yikes.
As I chomped on deep fried relics of late night debauchery and watched Porter lurch out the door, I realzied I was alone for the first time in months. I am not exaggerating, I really have not been by myself for longer than an hour in months. What with working during the day (or putting on a hell of a ruse pretending to), show stuff, boys and various pals in residence at my pad for Brooklyn Friendships (TM), plus living with one of my best friends, I honestly have not had a day (or night) go by without companionship. Since...November? December? Something like that.
So here I was, feeling like I ate a tire, sore and notably bloated and nauseous. And I was struck with the challenge...what do I do with myself now? How do I get used to this again? Am I ok being alone? It was odd to not have a choice in the matter.
So I did what every lady such as myself would do in such circumstances. I put on Food Network, watched a bit of my favorite lady Nigella Lawson's Chefography, drank some flat 7 UP and went to sleep. Life was but a dream.
I woke up at 4 PM and decided to roust myself to the out of doors for the first time that day. I had a strong craving for sweets, so I strolled over to the local coffee place for a nibbling type of snack cake and some frou frou coffee drink full or dairy and sugar. Then I sat outside on a bench, smoking and people watching and synthesizing my sugar buzz.
A cute Dad and his toddler daugher walked out from the coffee place, and the little girl ran up to my leg. She thought I was her Mom- she was at that age where, all adults are friends- and she had her hand on my leg saying "Mama" before her Dad even knew what for. I smiled at her and felt guilty to be smoking.
The Cute Dad bounded over and picked her up. "Sorry."
I smiled at him and said, "Oh, no worries. What's her name?"
"Calliope. Callie, for short."
I said, "That's Greek? For some reason I feel like it is, right?"
And he said, "Yeah, I think so."
Meanwhile Callie was eyeing my chocolate chip Blondie and the glowing end of my Parliament with unmasked interest.
He said, "Well come on, Callie. Let's go see Mommy now."
And he asked if she could wave good bye to me, and she concurred over his shoulder as they walked away. I smoked, and smiled, and watched them until they turned the corner. For some dumb reason, I really wanted to cry, just right that moment.
Instead I went home and read the shoot scripts from Season One of Freaks & Geeks because I am so, so cool. Didn't know if you knew I was, but now, you clearly do.
Yuck.
Friday, March 23, 2007
The Kissing Booth- TOMORROW NITE!
The Kissing Booth presents: THE LUCK OF THE IRISH (and...ANYA & MARIANNE'S B-DAY JAM!)
March 24th, 2007
10:30 pm - $5 cover
Doors open at 10 pm
The D-Lounge
101 East 15th Street at Union Square East- BASEMENT LEVEL of the DR2 Theater
$4 Special Beer (TBA- Last Time It Was Miller Lite)!
$4 Well Drinks!
Full Bar For You Fancy Types Who Insist On Acting Classy-like!
Dance Party Begins Right When The Show Ends, SO STICK AROUND!
Brandy & Sara think you're lucky...they haven't kicked your ass fair & square. So come on down and see why not at this month's show. And hey, if you can't make it in time to see the comics, short films and overall fun-out-of-bounds (because you suck), then come and get your drunk on with an after show dance party so wickedly debaucherous it'll result in pants-peeing! BECAUSE THIS AFTER SHOW DANCE PARTY IS BEING THROWN IN HONOR OF two patron saints of Downtown NYC Comedy- ANYA GARRETT (www.sketchartists.net)& MARIANNE WAYS (producer, UCB'S Bro'in Out!). After seeing this show, you're sure to win NY Lotto and get laid, because the lucky line up is too good to be true:
Michele Colyn
Benari Poulten
Emily Epstein
Peter Kassanove
Katina Carrao
Craig Baldo
Reggie Watts
PLUS...a very special short film entitled MATT'S PARTY, and featuring: Anne Altman, Michele Colyn, Claudia Cogan, Anne Carr, Giulia Rozzi, Katina Carrao, Michael Cyril Creighton, Nathan Kloke, Carolyn Catsiglia, Matt Sears, John F. O'Donnell, Matt McCarthy, and starring BRANDY & SARA. Created in collaboration with Oren Brimer, Anya Garrett, & Nathan Kloke. DON'T FUCK UP AND MISS IT.
PLUS! Candy, dancing, DJ wizardry from the 3 Times Dope CRAIG BALDO & our head writer MTT SEARS, photos of you looking all hot and shit that will be taken by the sultry NATHAN KLOKE (wwwnathankloke.com), and lots of hi-jinx and capers and cutups. AND ANYA & MARIANNE'S B-DAY, TOO!!!
SEE YOU THERE!
Thursday, March 22, 2007
We Had Voices Radio Show.
Come on out and see me in a live radio show! It's the innagural broadcast, and I'll be reppin' MORTIFIED NYC. Good times, great oldies.
We Had Voices
Thursday, March 22nd 2007 - 8 PM
The Tank @ Collective Unconscious
279 Church Street between Franklin and White
We Had Voices is an old time radio variety show reinvented for the 21st century. The live performance features a collection of short plays, readings, music, experimentation, and an eclecticism that's just a wee bit off kilter. It ain't your grandpa's radio show. Take it in with wide eyes and open ears, but don't forget -- it's all in your head.
GODAMMIT!
I am in NO MOOD FOR THIS BALONEY!
Maybe this is why I needed to go in the bathroom stall and puke just now. I blame this.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
MORTIFIED!
Come on out and get MORTIFIED tomorrow night. Why? Because I'm one of the New York co-producers, and I said so. Also I am reading a poem that I wrote about a gay boy I was in love with named Anthony who was in my jazz dance class with an airbrushed half shirt on. I had NO idea why he didn't return my affections...come hear the poem and it might be made somewhat clearer to you.
What is MORTIFIED? Read on!
Hailed a "cultural phenomenon" by Newsweek and celebrated by the likes of This American Life, The Today Show, The Onion AV Club, Esquire, Entertainment Weekly, Daily Candy and more, Mortified is a comic excavation of teen angst artifacts (journals, letters, poems, lyrics, home movies, stories and more) as shared by their original authors before total strangers. As the largest and longest-running project of its kind, our grassroots comedy collective has spent years sifting through hundreds of otherwise forgotten notebooks on a mission to celebrate the extraordinary lives of ordinary people.
WHAT: Mortified NYC
WHEN: Wednesday, March 21, 2007
TIME: 8:00 PM
VENUE: Makor Theater
ADDRESS: 35 West 67th Street (Steinhardt Building), 10023
With: Adrienne Frost, Eliot Glazer, Michele Colyn, Jon Friedman, Lianne Stokes, Caroline Waxler, Rachel Max, and more!
Go See American Cannibal: The Documentary.
Help out my pal Michael Nigro, who, aside from making a kick ass smart-ass romp of a film is also very cool in the best of ways and is friends with Guided By Voices. So you can say you helped out a dude who has spoken to Doug Gillard and shit. Everyone wins!!!Seriously, please seek this out in your city or town and go support true independant cinema. I promise you won't regret it.
FROM MICHAEL: Despite the worst storm of the year last Friday and the horror show of St. Paddy's Day on Saturday, American Cannibal was #2 in independent per screen box office gross in New York. We're still looking to make the numbers we need to for a larger national theatrical expansion; We've been getting great reviews but, without question, this week is our last chance.
If you didn't make a film screening this past weekend, PLEASE come see the movie (bring 33 of your closest friends). Word-of-mouth is all we have left in our arsenal, so feel free to pass this email forward.
Lastly, if you cannot make a screening, you can support the film by buying a ticket online at www.cinemavillage.com.
In New York at the Cinema Village
24 E 13th Street, Manhattan
Showtimes 1:10, 3:15, 5:20, 7:25 and 9:30pm
Best of New York 4 Stars Important and riveting For people who have a brain Devastatingly funny
--- New York Times -Time Out --Kurt Loader MTV News -- The Onion --Paper Magazine
I love when stuff like this happens.
Bet this is causing quite the stir on The Knot.com's message boards! What?! An adult woman doesn't want to get married?! She dares to speak out on the whole sacred institution of the white veil?! How can such a thing be? The fabric of society has been torn irreparably! What next?! A plague of ticks?!? Oh the horror!!!
I say to her, bravo. I love when people figure out what works for them and do it, sans apology. Not everyone has to be married to be in a loving, companionate relationship. No matter how you put lipstick on a pig, it's still a swine in Avon's Cherries in the Snow. If you love someone, you love them unconditionally and show them the utmost respect. Marriage license, ring or permisson from some fuddy-duddy old man in a frock clutching a dumb bible, or no.By the by Halle, loved you in BOOMERANG (second mention of this film in less than 2 weeks. Eeek).
Maybe Halle read this little gem:
"Once a woman passes a certain point in intelligence, it is almost impossible to get a husband: she simply cannot go on listening [to men] without snickering."
Halle Berry Says No More Marriages
 |
"I will never, never get married again," the Oscar winner, 40, says in the April issue of InStyle.
"Actually it's just that now I've come to a place where I think two people can share their lives without the ring, without the piece of paper."
Besides, she's tried to make marriage work – twice. Berry, whose thriller with Bruce Willis, Perfect Stranger, opens April 13, was formerly wed to Atlanta Braves player David Justice and R&B singer Eric Benét. Both unions ended in divorce.
She met Aubry, 31, while shooting a Versace ad in November 2005. They made their public debut as a couple three months later at the opening of a Versace store in New York City.
"After my last relationship [with actor Michael Ealy] broke up I was feeling like, well, it wasn't that I didn't want to be in a relationship, it's just that I thought it would be okay to be on my own," she tells InStyle.
"But he was disarmingly sweet and caring and different. In the past I've been attracted to big personalities. Gabriel was shy. He hardly talked to me at first."
But that just made him more appealing. "I had to work at this a little," she says. "It wasn't a slam dunk; it wasn't the guy just showering affection on me. It made it more interesting. We were equally matched – put it that way."
And when she does become a mother, she hopes to pass on some important values.
"I want my kids to realize it's only through hard work that any success or real joy comes," she says. "It's not about money; it's the intangible rewards – having integrity and doing what you say you're going to do."
So drunk and so green, green.
Enjoy these snaps from 24 hours of ridiculous drunken shennanigans in Boston this past weekend. There was a parade, house parties, a trip to a local bar named Donohue's, drunken friendship talks over Parliaments, slobbering on one another, dog-piling, expensive scotch ruined on ice in plastic cups, Sara's Polish Nachos, keg stands, hidden Cheetos, grab-assing, disgusting green accessories from the $1 aisle in Target, a pug with an erection, frozen Thin Mint Girl Scout cookies and a bottle of Jameson's split neatly between Kl0ke & myself with a dash of soda a la P.G. Wodehouse books-on-tape. From 4 PM to 4 PM, it was a whirlwind of shameless inebriation. Marvelous, really.
I love you clowns.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Bummer.
One of the bummers about having epilepsy is the jewelry. Bear with me, please. You see, you're supposed to always have on a medical alert type of bracelet. I wore mine pretty religiously for the first two or three years I was daignosed. Then I realized, it was fucking ugly.
You ask yourself, is Barber SO VAIN that she would take off this life-saving piece of jewelry in order to appear fashionable?! She would compromise her own meidcal care in order to appear "with it", "of the moment", "reeking of moxie"?
What do you think the anwser is, Sherlock?
Seriously, can Tiffany come up with a fucking decent medical alert bracelet so I can trick some sugar-daddy rube into buying me one? Because now that I have to wear it again, I'd at least like it to look not like some sort of parole-mandated punishment. Sheesh.
Oh Baby, I Like It RAW!
Just saw the rough edit of the newest Kissing Booth St. Patrick's Day short, MATT'S PARTY. It was so emotional, like Whitney Houston. I can't wait to show it to everyone.
I am going to Boston!
I wish I knew how to shoot movies, and edit and do all that great stuff. It's so amazing a talent to have, and one I really envy. If I had a time machine, I'd go back and learn the stuffing out of that shit. Also, maybe stop WWI. Oh, and see ELO on the 1978 North American Tour. And get a pet dodo bird. And hump Nick Drake. And buy stock in Microsoft way back in the day. And, and, and...That was the name of the rival band in the Commitments, right? I love Roddy Doyle's novels, especially the Commitments trilogy. There was The Van, The Snapper and The Commitments, if I recall correctly.
Ritalin needed, STAT.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Just When I Thought It Couldn't Ge Better...
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Feels So Good, By Chuck Mangione.
Which has an awesome trumpet solo, BTW. It sounds kind of like this. Except, with a job and not getting pointed at in scorn by Sara Jo.
I went to see Chuck Mangione with my ex BF and dear friend, John, at Carnegie Hall once. Check him out. What a dreamboat, huh?
Clearly when I say "dreamboat" I meant myself, 20 pounds heavier and with some sort of wig on my head, slightly askew and squinty. I digress.
I woke up today in the best mood. Better than I've been in in a month or two. Just full of vim and vigor. It is a fantastic day! I feel great! I am not even annoyed that I have to go to the gynecologist later! I haven't felt the nervous urge to smoke a single cigarette! I feel like going rollerskating at the Roxy, riding the carousel at Central Park, and going on a shopping spree at the Sanrio store in Times Square for all sorts of useless plastic crap drenched in antrohpomorphized (I think I made this word up) penguins and cats and shit.
I love this feeling. The feeling of being satisfied with what I have and with my life, right this minute. Not once way back when, when I was in college at Long Beach State drunkenly dancing in the fountain by the Pyramid, or in the future when I finally have that "dream job" as a staff writer and my Carrol Gardens condo and 1.5 dauchshunds (sp?)...but right now. In the moment.
Awssss. Which is short for awesome, and I feel nothing short of that.
And here is a song that is also awwws, and also sums up living in the moment (although it appears the non-sensical lyrics MAY have been penned by Hiroku, my & Porter's imaginary Japanese exchange student- and also that it's about the BBC, which is fine with this lady). It's Matthew Wilder's Break My Stride.
I went to see Chuck Mangione with my ex BF and dear friend, John, at Carnegie Hall once. Check him out. What a dreamboat, huh?
Clearly when I say "dreamboat" I meant myself, 20 pounds heavier and with some sort of wig on my head, slightly askew and squinty. I digress.
I woke up today in the best mood. Better than I've been in in a month or two. Just full of vim and vigor. It is a fantastic day! I feel great! I am not even annoyed that I have to go to the gynecologist later! I haven't felt the nervous urge to smoke a single cigarette! I feel like going rollerskating at the Roxy, riding the carousel at Central Park, and going on a shopping spree at the Sanrio store in Times Square for all sorts of useless plastic crap drenched in antrohpomorphized (I think I made this word up) penguins and cats and shit.
I love this feeling. The feeling of being satisfied with what I have and with my life, right this minute. Not once way back when, when I was in college at Long Beach State drunkenly dancing in the fountain by the Pyramid, or in the future when I finally have that "dream job" as a staff writer and my Carrol Gardens condo and 1.5 dauchshunds (sp?)...but right now. In the moment.
Awssss. Which is short for awesome, and I feel nothing short of that.
And here is a song that is also awwws, and also sums up living in the moment (although it appears the non-sensical lyrics MAY have been penned by Hiroku, my & Porter's imaginary Japanese exchange student- and also that it's about the BBC, which is fine with this lady). It's Matthew Wilder's Break My Stride.
Monday, March 12, 2007
I will make CA$H MONEY in Hollywood!
Does anyone else around here ever have that moment where, you're sitting at your desk feigning work, and you realize that at one point in time, your actual life just narrowly missed being not much more than an all-white adaption of the hit 1992 African-American ro-co flick, BOOMERANG*?
Maybe starring Jamie Kennedy?
Just wondering.
*Synopsis: The story of a successful marketing executive who excuses his constant womanizing by claiming he's searching for the perfect woman. When he finally falls in love, it's with the one woman in his life who rejects him. Hilarity ensues.
Don't Dream, It's Over.
Here are some snaps from the recent Drink At Work Barely Famous showcase. In them, you can see me & my comedy wife onstage, with the 3rd member of Brandy & Sara dynamic- our remote controled fart machine. And then there's me and my second true love that I'm cheating on both comedy (#1 true love) and Brooklyn (long term, on-and-off again true love) with- Parliaments. And lastly, me vamping it up for a tall gentleman caller (and being told by Rozzi to lay off it, already because my dance card is clearly full). Thanks again to Carol Hartsell, Sean Crespo, and Kambri Crews @ COMIX for making this all happen.
And xxxtra special "thunks" to the imposter drummer from Dream Theater, who scared the fuck out of every male comedian there with his way too familar antics. Any dude who walks into the bar and suddenly has 10 new best friends, is clearly a psycho...trust me on this. Speaking of drunken, obnoxious sociopaths, sorry if you missed the crazed turn the night took, ending with all of us in the West Village at 4 am, slobbering drunk at Kettle of Fish and taking turns posing with a life-sized stuffed Labrador. Eeek.
PHOTOS by Mindy Tucker.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
She's Smooth...Like Ice.
"WE SHOULD BE MAKIN' LOVE!!!!"
What?!? Gross. And so amazing it makes me about pass out from delight. Thanks to Mister Porter H. Mason the IIIrd for finding this for me in an effort to bolster my lacking faith in humanity this week. Seriously, I've been yammering about this gem of a show to anyone who'll listen for so long now. And I have no intention of stopping anytime soon. Garth Marenghi's DarkPlace is probably the best fucking thing of like, EVER.
Even better? That Man to Man with Dean Lerner aired this past year in the UK. Thank you, god I do not even believe in. Thank you.
Oh, and also...anyone who's anyone knows how much I love Joel McHale. I mean I LOVE him. Could not be happier to hear about this, in related news.
What?!? Gross. And so amazing it makes me about pass out from delight. Thanks to Mister Porter H. Mason the IIIrd for finding this for me in an effort to bolster my lacking faith in humanity this week. Seriously, I've been yammering about this gem of a show to anyone who'll listen for so long now. And I have no intention of stopping anytime soon. Garth Marenghi's DarkPlace is probably the best fucking thing of like, EVER.
Even better? That Man to Man with Dean Lerner aired this past year in the UK. Thank you, god I do not even believe in. Thank you.
Oh, and also...anyone who's anyone knows how much I love Joel McHale. I mean I LOVE him. Could not be happier to hear about this, in related news.
Help, Part Five.
From: Goofy Grapes <goofygrapes@gmail.com>
Date: Mar 9, 2007 12:30 PM
Subject: hellp
To: brandy.barber@her.work.address.redacted
Mine hoops four yoo arre that yoo wil fine as much happynesses as yoo gift too all those arownd yoo. Yoo have allways bean a grate freind too me and a konfidant annd a grate shoulder two leen on. I dont no what I addmire more about yoo, you're strength, beauty, wisdom oar smarts.
Mine advise is two yoo is two appreciate the moment annd knot worrie about yesterday oar tommorow. Yoo arre an knock-out. Anywon hoo does knot love you kompletly, does knot deserve a 2nd of you're time.
love, goofy
p.s.: I cook pigeon meat with a Bic lighter.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Help Part Four.
| From: | Anya Garrett | |
| To: | Brandy Leigh Barber | |
| Date: | Mar 8, 2007 6:10 PM | |
Beautiful -
I love you and hope you know that until the day you die.
I hope you are constantly surrounded by people that not only feel the
same way, but vocalize it as often as they feel it.
I hope that everyone who meets you sees you as I do - a gorgeous,
fun, talented, sensual, and compassionate woman who deserves every
good thing she receives and more.
I hope that your writing becomes deeper, richer, and more thought-
provoking with every passing year of living.
I hope that money is never an important factor in how you view your
happiness.
I hope that the fellow who snags you thanks God for you every day
that you are together, and never takes you for granted.
But mostly, selfishly, I hope that I never have to be far from where
you are.
hugs,
anya.
Help Part Three.
| From: | Giulia Rozzi | |
| To: | Brandy Barber | |
| Date: | Mar 8, 2007 3:50 PM | |
First off, i adore you.
You want me to describe your dream life?
You'd probably live in Cobble Hill. You'd own massive amounts of
clothing and accessories from Brooklyn Industries, Urbans,
Anthropology, American Apparel, etc plus have a room full of shoes (
mostly heels and boots of course) You will have bought all these items
with your fantastic paycheck earned writing and sometimes guest
appearing on the Brandy & Sara TV sketch show. You date constantly and
vacation often with both your lovers and girlfriends (me and Sara
mostly) and are able to afford monthly trips to San Diego to see your
family. After you hit your peak in comedy TV writing you decide to
settle down with one of your fabulous man friends who respects you and
adores your beautiful spirit, sense of humor, and passion for life-
unconditionally, fully and truthfully. He has a fantastic sense of
humor, a large bank account and an even larger appetite for the same
sexual, free-lovin' antics as you. He works in the arts but is not a
comic or wanna-be comic. You two either make or adopt a kid and raise
the child (or children) and Nigel while working on your first book of
short stories/comedy essays or your own magazine. Oh, and you own a
theatre and cultivate amazing new talent. You also still manage to get
drunk, party, and still look like you're 30, forever.
I love you.
Help Part Two.
From: Porter Mason
To: Brandy Barber
Date: Mar 8, 2007 2:37 PM
Well, I guess I wish you get that good feeling of completion from many things. That all the things in your life that you've been meaning to do, you do, and feel a sense of calm about them. That's sort of broad.
I guess maybe specifically, how about you write and star and direct in this amazing television show, and it's on for three seasons. And then it ends. You end it because you want to. And many years later, some young person comes up to on the street, and recognizes you from it, and tells you what an inspiration it was to them.
How's that?
With A Little Help From My Friends.
From: Sara Allocco
To: Brandy Barber
Date: Mar 8, 2007 3:12 PM
Hi madames,
This is what I hope for you in life:
to be loved unconditionally by someone who lets you be yourself and who challenges you in the best ways, and loves you for all of the reasons I love you. Someone who is your biggest fan and greatest friend. Who will always have your best interest in heart. I also hope that the amazing talents you have will eventually allow you to live the life you have wanted for so long, to be comfortable with money and not have to struggle too much. I also hope you get a dog so that he can be best friends with mine. And for us to live as close as we can and to work with each other building our dreams (not mysteries Sarah McLaughlin)
And most importantly, fart.
Love you!!
There's A Reason You Don't Have Any Friends.
This song is truly amazing. A fave of mine from when I was in 7th grade. It's by The System and it's called Don't Disturb This Groove. If you don't know, now you know.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
"I soiled my glasses!!!" - Sara
Be there fools! Seriously, if you've been meaning to see a show of my & Sara's, this is it, WHAT?!?
The fabulous website and comedy think tank DRINK AT WORK (www.drinkatwork.com) presents a showcase of emerging comics, and somehow Sara & I got invited, too! Even better- if you pre-purchase your tickets, there's a special discount code you can use that gets you $5 off the ticket price. That means you get to see this show full of scamps for only $5!
The code is DAWWEB and the link to advanced tickets is here:
http://comixny.com/event.aspx?eid=117&sid=375
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
I Was 13.
RIP, Jam Master Jay.
I heard the Beastie Boys's No Sleep Til Brooklyn this weekend while I was driving down PCH with my brother, Steve. I felt like I'd been knocked on my ass. I exclaimed to him, "Jesus! I remember being in 7th grade, listening to this song over and over on my Yorx record player that Daddy bought me at the Price Club, and man, I had no idea that someday I'd actually LIVE in Brooklyn." My brother was pleasantly non-plussed, as is his ever-mellow way in the face of my constant melodramatic yammerings. When we got back to my parents' house, I pulled out my vinyl of Licensed To Ill and stared at it for a long time.
Where the fuck did this all come from, you ask? Here it 'tis: Enjoy this lovely article, celebrating the underrated and truly explosive year in music that was 1987, from the UK Guardian. I sure did. And my forever love to the two Adams and Mike D. for planting the seed that eventually landed my prissy little SoCal ass in the 718- thank god for that.
A snippet, from author John Harris :
I was 17 back then - addicted to the Smiths, ill-advisedly partial to the Housemartins, but well used to the dull thud of anti-climax that came from listening to records by, say, the Wedding Present. By early that summer, however, everything was looking up. In May, I witnessed the appearance of the Beastie Boys and Run DMC at Manchester Apollo, at which the former re-enacted Animal House with the aid of stomach-hurting bass, only for the latter to turn in one of the most jaw-dropping performances I have ever seen. Meanwhile, the year was soundtracked by a clutch of breathtaking albums: LL Cool J's Bigger and Deffer, Public Enemy's Yo! Bum Rush the Show, the Beasties' Licensed to Ill and Run DMC's Raising Hell. For some reason, Rick Rubin's decision to follow the latter two albums - both put out in '86, though they didn't half linger - with the Cult's gonzoid masterpiece Electric also led to my reconversion to heavy metal, but that will have to wait.
PS I also loved the Housemartins.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
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