Laugh Stupid dot com

Your Dreams Were Your Ticket Out

How you been?

Me, I’ve been doing a portion of my web browsing on my iPod these days. The good people at iPodSoft have been responsible for that, thanks to their excellent iPod Agent.

iPod Agent will download an rss feed onto your iPod, where you can read it on the little screen. Not geeky enough for you? I got it telling me the weather, movie times, office passwords, and my rehearsal schedule. (Make with the clicky, more on that later). But back on the subject of my rss feeds…

Our friend Brendan is a lawyer, but we forgive him because he writes for CarbonGeek. Find out how robots will soon become our heartless overlords while discovering the latest in webgeekery. Impress the rest of the dorks at the back table!

You Are Dumb Dot Net is post-millenial judgement and retribution for the information age, according to its author, Bryan Lambert. Me, I just know You Are Dumb makes people on the subway give me a lot of space when they see me laughing at my iPod. Bryan takes the issues of the day and throws them through a blender of cynicism, sarcasm and left wing indignation. Most importantly, it’s funny. Geek references are also annotated for the novice.

Speaking of things that make me laugh at inanimate objects in public, there’s Overheard in New York. Way back when, me n’ my buddy Jeff used to carry little notebooks around and jot down things we heard on the street. A lot of those notes ended up in a play I wrote in college. Now someone’s gotten the idea of dedicating a website to all those weird and wonderful non-sequiturs you hear when tooling around this town.

I got that site from Mikey Dietsch, who wants me to run for mayor again. (I have no time, sorry Mikey). He has his own weblog, which is alternately fascinating and whimsical.

Mikey also told me about Dracula: The Weblog. The original Bram Stoker novel is written in the form of journal entries and letters composed by the main characters. Each letter or journal entry is dated. Someone got the idea of posting the novel in a blog, matching the chronology. The novel’s first chapter starts on May 3rd, so you can still catch up.

Matt Fraction came to New York and didn’t tell us. Fuck you, Fraction! And when’s the next mixtape phrenology?

Sciencegrrl and Dan Evans should update their sites more often. But I guess I’m not one to talk.

Hello again, everybody!

To That Same Old Place That You Laughed About

So about that link I sent you:

This was right after college. My friend Alex had been cast in this show that was doing the Fringe Festival. (This was back when the Fringe Festival meant nothing. Whereas now, when someone tells you they’re in the Fringe Festival, you’re obligated to say, “Hey! That’s where Urinetown got started. You never know!” Anyway.)

“It’s an original play, based loosely on Romeo and Juliet,” Alex told me.

“Uh-huh,” I said.

Alex continued: “And the backdrop is professional sports…”

“Ooookaaay…”

“And it’s in verse.”

“…”

“But it’s good!”

I should explain something. “IT’S IN VERSE” is one of the most terrifying phrases in the Off-Off Broadway community. “IT’S IN VERSE” stands for frustrated actresses with one-woman shows who want to tell a room full of her friends about how HARD it is to be an ACTRESS, and charge them $10 for the privilege. “IT’S IN VERSE” stands for frustrated actors who write a three-act play where every last female character is a prostitute. The only reason to see these kinds of productions is if you’re curious to find out how many words rhyme with “implants” or “cunt,” respectively.

Thing is, Alex has never steered me wrong on entertainment. Never ever ever. Even with something he’s performing in. That’s a rare quality for an actor. So when Alex told me that this play in (shudder) verse was GOOD, I was wondering if he was breaking his streak of impeccable recommendations.

But still. He’s a friend, so off I went to Alphabet City to catch his show.

And I’ll be damned, but it was actually good. Really good. I mean, this was no “I can rhyme ‘June’ and ‘moon!’ Ten dollars please!” kind of verse play, this was the kind of verse play where the language soared above the stage, landed gracefully on the proscenium, then did an amusing little dance for you.

I was very impressed with this Kirk Wood Bromley guy.

So that’s when my circle and the Inverse Theater circle almost met. But it never quite caught. Alex didn’t get cast in Kirk’s next play. Instead, he and a few others from my college started their own theater company. And I lost interest in Off-Off Broadway Theater once network television expressed interest in me. So it was a number of years before I crossed paths with Inverse again…

Well The Names Have All Changed Since You Hung Around

The other day I mentioned that Mikey asked me to run for mayor again. Perhaps I should explain.

Back in 2001, I got the idea in my head that I’d be a fringe candidate for NYC Mayor. My platform was simple: Bring Back The Adult Entertainment Industry. “A vote for J.O.S.H. is a vote for bukkake,” etc. It was an attention-getting jumping-off point for talking about some issues in the city that I care about.

And y’know, I just like writing “bukkake.”

Bukkake bukkake bukkake!!

Anyway.

People responded to things I was writing about on here. I got some advice from people like Travis (he worked for Bob Dole), I got the endorsement of an honest-to-God political party… it really seemed like I could have a little campaign that might get noticed.

And then some assholes crashed a couple planes into the World Trade Center.

Suddenly, a funny mayoral campaign didn’t seem so funny. And that was that.

Anyway, my campaign wasn’t looking to rewind the clock on Times Square... but it’s worth pointing out that while crime rates in Time Square went down, crime in its bordering neighborhoods went up. It’s not like we have fewer strippers in the city now that Times Square is a subsidiary of the Disney Corporation. It’s just that most of the strippers perform in Long Island City now. But one of the more notable strip club conversions is what happened to Show World.

Show World was one of the most famous strip clubs in NYC, mainly owing to the fact that it was half a block from the Port Authority Bus Terminal. Prime real estate for a peep show, that. Once Disney swooped in, Show World got shut down. And then someone got the idea that maybe you could turn a strip club into an avant-garde performance space without much renovation. The Donkey Show was one of the first pieces to perform there (back in 2000, I think).

And then in ’01, Cousin Matt tells me he’s emceeing a benefit there…

But Those Dreams Have Remained and They've Turned Around

It’s a big city. There’s like, what? Eighty hojillion people living here or something? So there’s like, a billion theater people in this town.

And we all. Know. Each other.

Where was I? Oh yes. Cousin Matt.

Cousin Matt’s not really my cousin. It’s just shorthand. Like his mom and dad are my Aunt Penny and Uncle Tim. His mom and my mom were friends in college and moved to NYC together once they graduated. He and his older brother Ted are like cousins. We’ve known each other our whole lives, we spend Christmases and Thanksgivings together, I shelled out $700 to go to Ted’s wedding in Miami AND OF COURSE I HAVE NO PROBLEM DOING THAT BECAUSE HE’S FAMILY, that sort of thing. You understand.

One morning when I was four, my mom dressed me up in my fancy green corduroy overalls and told me we were going to meet the newbaby.

I didn’t really get the concept. I knew from how Mom was talking that this was a Big Deal, and it had something to do with Aunt Penny and Uncle Tim… but I was missing something. I'd never heard this "newbaby" term.

I was looking forward to seeing Ted, though. Ted was a year younger than me. So I knew, like, twice as many words as him. Kid treated me like I was a GENIUS.

Anyway, we get to Aunt Penny and Uncle Tim’s place on the Upper West Side and Ted’s kinda freaking out. Hiding behind the curtains, if memory serves. After a bit, Aunt Penny asks me if I would like to see the newbaby.

“Finally,” I’m thinking.

Aunt Penny picks me up and brings me to the master bedroom, where there’s a baby-carrier sitting on a dresser… with this tiny person in it.

“That’s Matthew,” Aunt Penny says.

Ohhhhh. New. Baby.

So that's why Cousin Ted is freaking out and that's why Aunt Penny’s been so fat.

Whenever Inverse Theater people have asked me how I know Cousin Matt, I tell that story.

I have no idea why we both became actors. Well, at least we both went to college wanting to be actors. I decided to take up writing soon after college, as it appeared I could get paid to do it. In fact, it was right before I was heading to L.A. to find an agent after writing the Sitcom that I found out Cousin Matt was in this play downtown. At the Kraine Theater, no less, where I had my first professional acting gig. In fact, the second floor bar had its grand opening during the run. Oh yeah, and the last show I did, earlier this year, after a long acting hiatus, was in the third floor theater.

Anyway.

It was strange and wonderful to see Matt in this space that had these fond memories of a first gig, and I’m thinking of that while I flip through the program and holy shit this play is by that Kirk Wood Bromley guy!

I see Matt after the show, he introduces me around a bit, I say hello and congratulations to the musician/composer for the show, she says thank you, we move along, go talk to other people…

…as it turns out, unbeknownst to me, she’s seeing Damian. He’s this guy I know, one of my sister’s best friends. Great guy, very upbeat. Always got along famously with him.

A couple years ago, I’m talking to my sister and she mentions Damian. “Oh, how is he, haven’t seen him in a while,” I say.

My sister tells me his girlfriend just died.

So shout out to Damian, across the internet ether. And I’m sorry I never got to know Jessica.

Small world, this theater thing.

Who'd Have Thought They'd Lead You

Technogeekery business first.

Some of you read me on an rss feed, like Bloglines or something. From what I can tell, this link…

http://www.laughstupid.com/index.xml

…is your best bet.

And onward ho.

I want to get back and talk about Show World. Honest. Got a little stuck there, realizing I needed to tweak the story a bit.

Yes. I sometimes make shit up. Just if it helps the story along. Honest. Anyway, the “Welcome Back Kotter” lyrics dictate that we speak of ukulele today.

(Didja know: it’s actually pronounced “ookulaylay,” not “youkalaylee.” But anyone who corrects you when you say “youkalaylee” is a dork. Feel free to smack them around with a larger instrument and take their lunch money.)

First thing you should know is that my family has a music gene on my mother’s side. (My father’s side is tone deaf, but really good at math.) Things that come with the music gene are a good sense of humor, a need to perform in front of an audience, and an Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. The gene pops up in all family members to differing degrees. But one in every generation gets it bad. Bad enough that they run off to New Orleans during the Depression and sit in on banjo with Dixieland bands. Bad enough that they drop out of college, join a band called Magic Terry and the Universe, have little breakdown when Magic Terry runs away with his girlfriend, then join this little outfit called The Dead Kennedys almost ten years later.

(Interesting note: Jim Morrison once got Magic Terry and the Universe a meeting with his management. Morrison’s management said they’d love to sign the band, but Magic Terry had to clean himself up a bit. It says something when Jim Morrison’s people think you’re getting too high. Anyway.)

And in this generation, it’s me. So me n’ my grandfather, me n’ Uncie Klaus, we’ve always had a special bond. Kindred spirits n' all that hoohah.

(Incidentally, I have a bet going with Uncie Klaus. If Britney Spears has a platinum album release in 2007, I owe him a plane ticket to NYC and dinner at the place of his choosing. If she doesn’t, I get a ticket to San Francisco and the free dinner. Uncie Klaus tried to get me with counting international sales or a porn release, but I nixed those. Still, I’m thinking I should’ve made it double platinum. Anyway, when career-damaging drivel like Britney & Kevin: Chaotic comes along, the joy I derive from it is not schadenfreude. There’s a plane ticket in it for me.)

Uncie Klaus is the first relative I got drunk with – okay, that’s not entirely true. There was the time I was twelve where I got into the punch bowl at a party, and there was the time I was four when my parents had a dinner party and I stole a sip from everyone’s wineglass on a dare from my sister (I NEVER LEARN)… I mean, Uncie Klaus is the first relative I got socially loaded with.

Thing is, I never learned a musical instrument.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. I tried. My parents recognized the gene in me at an early age. They tried guitar on me at eight… and hoo boy, did they buy the wrong instrument. Not the guitar itself, it was a good choice. But they got me a classical guitar. A classical guitar with a MONSTROUS neck. I’m eight years old, and small for my age. And here I’m trying to negotiate an instrument that’s almost as big as me.

Imagine my chagrin in high school, when I was hanging out with musicians; guys as ugly as sin, no social skills to speak of, but they could play "Stairway To Heaven" so of course they were getting laid, while I was not.

Imagine my further chagrin when I learned there was such a thing as a mini guitar. Argh argh argh argh.

Being that I was no good at playing A GIANT FUCKING STUMP OF WOOD, I moved to piano. Because really, if one instrument is too big for you, when not go with something even bigger?

No, it didn’t take.

(In all seriousness, my parents weren’t really to blame. I was too lazy to practice. Hi, Mom!)

An attempt at harmonica was quickly aborted when I tried to play along with a drunk, belligerent blues musician after six weeks of practice.

Then about four years ago, I see this production of Twelfth Night…

(who'd have thought they'd lead you)

I’d like to say that the Magic of Theater lead me to the ukulele, but that’d be a little fib. I’d like to say that my muse called out for the uke, but if I wrote something like that and meant it, I’d have to - I dunno, move this site to somewhere else where that sort of navel-gazing is encouraged (Hi, Nick!). I’d like to say I just wanted to perform in front of people and thought it’d be nice to have a uke to hide behind, and that’s sort of true but not completely…

Truth of the matter is, I picked up the uke because chicks dig a guy with a tiny little instrument.

Awww, jeah.

One day I pulled out that BIG FUCKING WOODEN STUMP of a guitar that I’ve had since I was eight. My hand still couldn’t fit around the neck. And the strings clearly needed to be changed. And even if I did that, how the hell was I gonna tune it?

Needed something smaller.

Then I realized that an instrument existed that had fewer strings to deal with. Strangely, I didn’t really think of its comedic applications. I just wanted to play something. Well, more specifically – it still smarted that I’d had a guitar for over twenty years and never knew how to play. I didn’t want to live my whole life, never learning a musical instrument….

Then I see this guy in this production of Twelfth Night who walks on the stage with a uke, plays three chords and the audience goes nuts. And a ukulele goes on my Christmas List.

Oh it took time. I broke my first uke, had to restring the second just to keep it in tune – and even after that, I spent about six months only knowing how to play the Spider-Man Theme. But I finally got it down. My first live gig was, thankfully, on Staten Island, where nobody of consequence could see me (well, except for Joan, who got me the gig and was VERY VERY KIND). My second was at CBGB’s 313 Gallery, where Brian booked me and has my eternal gratitude and the rights to my first-born child. He also helped me create a persona for the uke playing… and we’ll talk about him later.

But hey, the five people I know who saw me there? They liked it.

So the show I’m acting in ends. And one afternoon, I get this e-mail about a casting call for a musical…

Okay. My first reaction, on hearing the word “musical,” is to shudder. “Musical,” for me, brings back memories of the two I did in college. Three months each. Three months of being around Musical Theater People. Three. Months. To describe it… I mean, just in case the link didn’t clue you in (or you didn’t click on it, you bad bad person)… imagine being stuck in an elevator with Liza Minelli. And a hyena. And Liza’s trying to remain calm by singing the entire score of Cats, while the hyena’s trying to remain calm by eating your entrails.

Remember Fame? Remember how in the beginning, all those 25 year-old students in the High School for the Performing Arts broke out into an impromptu song and dance number that spilled out into the streets of New York City? The Musical Theater people I went to college with, they came to New York thinking the city was really like that. So when they broke out into impromptu song and dance numbers (which was often), they wondered why people would either ignore them or give them change.

Anyway. THIS musical was asking for people to sing rock n’ roll. This one was asking, specifically, for untrained voices. This one wasn’t looking for Musical Theater People. Musical Theatre People are always far more serious about their voices than, say, ACTING. They train their voices, and train them, and train them… until finally, all sense of individuality or character is erased and they don't how to sing like, well – normal people.

And they usually HATE rock n’ roll.

And hey, that Kirk Wood Bromley guy was involved with this one. So I grabbed my ukulele and went.

Long story short… I get a free ticket to a booze cruise the 16th of July.

Mwah hah hah.

We're in Playbill!

Inverse Follows Up Fringe Hit Lost With New Banger's Flopera

Aaand, show dates:

Fringe Festival
VENUE NAME: The Village Theatre
ADDRESS: 158 Bleecker @ Thompson
SUBWAY: A, C, E, B, D, F, V to West 4th Street

SHOW TITLE
The Banger's Flopera - A Musical Perversion
SUN 8/14 @ 3:45pm
THUR 8/18 @ 2:00pm
SUN 8/21 @ 2:15pm
FRI 8/26 @ 9:45pm
SAT 8/27 @ 11:00pm

Those dates may change, so watch this space.

And I'm sorry about not updating for a while. I been busy.

It’s been taxing, working on the Big Musical. For one, I have found myself in the dance numbers.

Yes. I’m in dance numbers. It's all cheesy schlock muscial theatre 101 dance bits, but with dry humping and the occasional DP.

Those of you who have seen me dance know that I only dance for comedic effect. So this has been… challenging. I’ve also been very very grateful to Kelly, my dance partner, who's been endlessly patient and gracious despite her laryngitis and her feet getting stepped on.

(Hi, Kelly!)

We’ve had a few days of choreography rehearsals. I’m starting to look forward to that other scene where I play a rictus, open-eyed corpse for eight minutes. ‘Cause that’s easier.

Oh, and at the top of the week I played my ukulele bit for the first time in front of the entire cast and COMPLETELY FUCKED IT IN THE EAR. Three chords, and I FUCKED IT IN THE EAR.

I can play “The Summer Wind” goddamnit! I should be able to play THREE FUCKING CHORDS right.

Oh and that other song where we want you playing ukulele, Josh? You know, just one chord at the end there will do. And can you play a really off-key note in that middle part there, for comedic effect? Yeah, you can do that, right?

Razzin frazzin…

Anyway. Let’s just say my confidence level has dipped rather low. I’ve been cast here as the go-to-guy. I’m the guy who’s expected to step into any part in the chorus, any little role hanging around. I’m supposed to be, well… GOOD. And this week, I have not been good. And it doesn’t help that the actress who’s my female counterpart, the go-to-girl, can actually DANCE, has an incredible range and just goes over to the piano and plays songs from FUCKING CAROUSEL whenever the urge strikes while I’m sitting in the corner trying to play my THREE FUCKING CHORDS on the ukulele…

(Hi, Sarah!)

So tonight I was called in at eight-thirty and all my little demons of self-doubt have decided to come out and dance a merry little jig across my psyche. And OKAY. It was okay tonight. The song we had to learn was a call-back to a song I’d just learned yesterday so ba-da-bing, I’ve got it down in harmony while everyone else is still learning it.

OKAY. Maybe I won’t be fired.

Then rehearsal ends and Director Ben asks to have a word with a few actors. Including me.

Ah, shit.

Director Ben pulls us aside and says, “So you may know that we’re going to be assigning understudies for some of the roles in the cast…”

Oh, great, I’m thinking. Couldn’t they have decided this last week, before I started to suck?

“…Kelly, you'll be understudying Polly. Chris, you'll be understudying Peacock…”

DAMMIT! I wanted Peacock! He’s got great songs and tons of dick jokes. DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT…

“…and Josh, you’ll be understudying all the other male roles except Mac the Knife.”

…oh, SHIT.

So I guess I’m doing better than I thought.

Still.

SHIT.

We're in Playbill!

Inverse Follows Up Fringe Hit Lost With New Banger's Flopera

Aaand, show dates:

Fringe Festival
VENUE NAME: The Village Theatre
ADDRESS: 158 Bleecker @ Thompson
SUBWAY: A, C, E, B, D, F, V to West 4th Street

SHOW TITLE
The Banger's Flopera - A Musical Perversion
SUN 8/14 @ 3:45pm
THUR 8/18 @ 2:00pm
SUN 8/21 @ 2:15pm
FRI 8/26 @ 9:45pm
SAT 8/27 @ 11:00pm

Those dates may change, so watch this space.

And I'm sorry about not updating for a while. I been busy.

It’s been taxing, working on the Big Musical. For one, I have found myself in the dance numbers.

Yes. I’m in dance numbers. It's all cheesy schlock muscial theatre 101 dance bits, but with dry humping and the occasional DP.

Those of you who have seen me dance know that I only dance for comedic effect. So this has been… challenging. I’ve also been very very grateful to Kelly, my dance partner, who's been endlessly patient and gracious despite her laryngitis and her feet getting stepped on.

(Hi, Kelly!)

We’ve had a few days of choreography rehearsals. I’m starting to look forward to that other scene where I play a rictus, open-eyed corpse for eight minutes. ‘Cause that’s easier.

Oh, and at the top of the week I played my ukulele bit for the first time in front of the entire cast and COMPLETELY FUCKED IT IN THE EAR. Three chords, and I FUCKED IT IN THE EAR.

I can play “The Summer Wind” goddamnit! I should be able to play THREE FUCKING CHORDS right.

Oh and that other song where we want you playing ukulele, Josh? You know, just one chord at the end there will do. And can you play a really off-key note in that middle part there, for comedic effect? Yeah, you can do that, right?

Razzin frazzin…

Anyway. Let’s just say my confidence level has dipped rather low. I’ve been cast here as the go-to-guy. I’m the guy who’s expected to step into any part in the chorus, any little role hanging around. I’m supposed to be, well… GOOD. And this week, I have not been good. And it doesn’t help that the actress who’s my female counterpart, the go-to-girl, can actually DANCE, has an incredible range and just goes over to the piano and plays songs from FUCKING CAROUSEL whenever the urge strikes while I’m sitting in the corner trying to play my THREE FUCKING CHORDS on the ukulele…

(Hi, Sarah!)

So tonight I was called in at eight-thirty and all my little demons of self-doubt have decided to come out and dance a merry little jig across my psyche. And OKAY. It was okay tonight. The song we had to learn was a call-back to a song I’d just learned yesterday so ba-da-bing, I’ve got it down in harmony while everyone else is still learning it.

OKAY. Maybe I won’t be fired.

Then rehearsal ends and Director Ben asks to have a word with a few actors. Including me.

Ah, shit.

Director Ben pulls us aside and says, “So you may know that we’re going to be assigning understudies for some of the roles in the cast…”

Oh, great, I’m thinking. Couldn’t they have decided this last week, before I started to suck?

“…Kelly, you'll be understudying Polly. Chris, you'll be understudying Peacock…”

DAMMIT! I wanted Peacock! He’s got great songs and tons of dick jokes. DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT…

“…and Josh, you’ll be understudying all the other male roles except Mac the Knife.”

…oh, SHIT.

So I guess I’m doing better than I thought.

Still.

SHIT.

Are my lemons tied, is my hair in place

And here we are.

In about 25 minutes, I have to leave this nice, climate controlled environment and hustle down to the theater for opening night.

Great day for it, isn't it?

According to the internet, it feels like 103 degrees outside. The earliest we can get to the theater (which is, thank god, A/C'ed up the wazoo) is 45 minutes before showtime. One of the actors offered up his place for early warm-ups and prep... but he's a 10-minute walk from the theater.

I'll hold off on the heat wave death-march, thanks.

Did I mention I have a cold? Oh yes.

I always get sick right around an opening. I got this cold two days ago. Normally, I'd just drug myself to the gills and ride it out that way... and that was my plan. But y'know something? Little hard to remember dance moves when you're all jacked up on DayQuil.

So it's Tylenol, Echinacea and Vitamin C for me today. Which is, of couse, SO NOT CUTTING IT.

I remember the first show I did in college... it was a reading for my first play, but we'd incorporated a lot of blocking. At the last minute, I had to give my script up to the tech booth and couldn't secure another copy for myself (oh yeah, I was in it too). I hadn't hit the stage in about three years before that show. And here I was, doing pick-up work on all these little parts that I couldn't get actors for, with no script....

My buddy Felix, who I went to high school with, was in that production. Thirty seconds before the show starts, we're backstage. Felix turn around and looks at me. I'm shaking in my boots. He puts his hand on my shoulder and says, "Just another day at the office."

Okay, then. Time to warm up a bit, then trudge through the heat to the theater.

Just another day at the office... just another day at the office...

For I am easily influenced

This from my friend Lauren: open your music player, stick the sucker on random and hit play. Then go and find pictures of the first ten artists. See if anyone can get them all.

I'd be really, really surprised if anyone here (you know, all three of you) gets all of these:

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

10.