January 2012
1 post
"SPEAK UP, GUYS."
Killing time between two cancelled shows in Claremont last month, I’m flanked by two different conversations in a bar. On my right, two guys talking about gold futures, economic freedom and Fox News. On my left, two guys talking about the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Seriously.
I wish I could cancel both these conversations the way both of my shows will be cancelled tonight. At this...
September 2011
1 post
AN OPEN LETTER TO MODELS WHO WANNA TRY STAND-UP
Hey, pretty women! Sorry to take you away from touching up your headshots, buying underwear and banging your boyfriends, but I understand that some of you wanna try stand-up! Cool! Go for it. Slink those perfectly proportioned hips onto that stage, grab that mike with those meticulously moisturized, lily-white hands and let her rip, girl. But before you go where many models have fleetingly...
August 2011
6 posts
AN OPEN LETTER TO THAT GUY AT SEPULVEDA AND...
Okay. What is it? What’s your secret? I wanna know.
You are forty-seven. You are sitting in what appears to be a 1968 Toyota 2000 GT Convertible. You are waiting for the red light to stop being red so you can go. You are smoking a cigarette. You are listening to “Ship of Fools” by Robert Plant. It’s really loud. You know all the words. And right at the first break after the first...
I GOT THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY-FIVE POSTS, BUT A...
And that’s it. That’s a year. August 5, 2010 I started blogging in earnest here on Tumblr. Once a day, at least three hundred words a day. Three hundred words a day ain’t a lot. I don’t think so. When I missed a day, I would write two for the next day to make up for it. Just wanted to see if I could do it. And looks I did it. “You gonna turn all that into a book?” a friend asked me. ...
BOSS DOG
So let’s talk about that dog: It’s at a party and so are you and it’s being a pain in not only your ass, but everyone’s asses. It keeps jumping up on you, on everyone, humping you, licking you, barking constantly, every five seconds it loses its memory of whatever has just happened so it’s in a perpetual state of crazed wonder, and everyone’s yelling “No!” at it repeatedly, hoping it will stop...
AN OPEN LETTER TO THE TEN PEOPLE WHO JUST...
Hey, guys! I don’t wanna take up too much of your time, what with how busy y’all are with…all the shit you guys do! You’re all probably swamped with tasks and errands and what-not. Some of you are clearly robots, in which case you definitely have a lot of stuff to do, like follow people on Twitter, leave an ad under the Mention tab and then immediately unfollow them. ...
HELLO, NORMAN.
The most productive thing I did today was help an old man walk into The House of Pies. You know, now that I type that, if I really wanted to help him, I should’ve walked him away from the House of Pies. But he’s waving me over and he’s all: “Excuse me.” And this is the second time in two weeks that an old person has asked me to help them move. Not change...
I DON'T COUNT.
I do push-ups. (“No, you don’t.”) Yup. (“Really?”) If I don’t accomplish anything with my day, I’ll do push-ups to feel like I’ve accomplished something with my day. But even if I do accomplish something with my day, I’ll do push-ups anyway. And I do ‘em, man. Here’s how I do push-ups. (“Wait. Where do you do them?”) In my apartment. (“No. Where on your body do you do push-ups? ...
July 2011
30 posts
I WILL NOT TAKE THE RISK™.
I play RISK™. On-line. I play with other people. It’s sad.
I don’t work. My savings account is dwindling to an alarming level. I haven’t booked a commercial in almost a year. I should not be playing this shitty, life-sucking game anymore. Here’s what I think: “If I just hole up inside and play RISK™ I won’t be outside spending money.” That kinda seems like a good idea, doesn’t it? But...
GOT A BOYFRIEND? THEN ACT LIKE IT.
[The previous blog post (for July 29, 2011) is a transcript of a text conversation I had with a wrong number. This post will be an analysis of said conversation with the transcript reprinted here but interrupted by my thoughts and opinions of just what the hell we (the person to whom I conversed and I) said and maybe (maybe) why. If you haven’t read the July 29, 2011 post, you can do that now...
I AIN'T MANUEL. NOR REUBEN.
Got a wrong text from a phone number in Wilmington, North Carolina. The Wrong Number will be notated as “Wrong” hereafter. The texting conversation went like this:
***
WRONG: Hey!
ME: Don’t know who this is.
WRONG: Lol. Ash you just met me.
ME: No. I didn’t. What’s my name?
WRONG: Manuel!
ME: Oh yeah! How’s it goin? Kinda drunk.
WRONG: Lol. I’m ash! Was w Mateo!
ME: Ooooh,...
NOT GONNA DO IT.
Got this email yesterday:
Hi Matt,
I’m trying to track down someone who doesn’t like Kevin Smith for a pilot I’m working on and saw your youtube video. I was hoping you might have time to talk about it. I can be reached at the number below or at this email address. Thanks.
Warmest Regards,
And then the guy’s name and number.
Note how he says he’s “trying to track down someone...
GET A HANKY.
Remember the Derby? I actually went to a swing dance class here once. It was one of the three dates I’ve had in the last twenty-three years. “This would be cooler if there weren’t so many people,” I said. When I saw Swingers with that scene at The Derby where one guy says: “You get that pilot?” and the other guy goes: “Nah. Shit wasn’t funny anyway,” I remember having that exact same...
AN OPEN LETTER TO THAT SIX-YEAR-OLD GIRL
Hey, kid. How’s it going? It was nice meeting you today at that commercial audition. You were polite, friendly, smiling. You’re obviously a really sweet person and I would be honored to be paid to pretend to be your dad. But here’s the thing:
Just because you’re a little kid doesn’t mean your stories have to be boring.
Seriously, girl: Cut to the chase! C’mon! You’re like this:
“One time,...
AN OPEN LETTER TO THAT WOMAN ON FACEBOOK
Well done, lady. Not many people can do it. What with all the Facebook “friends” you gotta deal with and how no one has any privacy anymore and the invasiveness of social networking nowadays, it’s a wonder you pulled it off. I would love to know your secret, though I doubt you’ll share it. You’ve somehow maintained an on-line presence without divulging the more personal aspects of your life...
"WHY, HE ONCE SHOT A MAN JUST FOR BLOGGING TOO...
“He was such a nasty feller, he once shot a man just for snorin’ too loud.”
This has been said about a lot of bad-ass outlaws. It’s such a clichéd credit from the Old West that it makes me think of all the comedians I’ve heard use it in one way or another. They’re doing some bit about cowboys and shoot-outs and wagons and can can girls, and it’s inevitable that they’re gonna say: “Why, he was...
ATROPHIED BLOG
Go ahead. Call him Gollum.
In central China recently, in the village of Gezhai (Henan province), a bunch of people were so freaked out at this cute little guy that they thought he was an alien. It’s actually an atrophied ape (duh, I mean, look at it; that’s obviously an atrophied ape), but the first woman who saw it stealing cucumbers from her—I don’t know, where do you keep cucumbers? a...
THE CHURCH OF EITHER GOD OR CHRIST
I overheard someone talking about their church and they said something about “The Church of God in Christ.” But I misheard them and thought they said “The Church of God and Christ.” And I almost piped up. I was like: “Wait a minute. God and Christ? They’re the same thing, right? That’s, like, their thing, yeah? So what’s this ‘and’ stuff? Is Christ moving out and getting his own place?” ...
WHEN IN DOUBT...
Losin’ the crowd? See ‘em yawnin’? Can’t get them on your side? Trying to wend your way through some bit you’ve prepared but the crowd just ain’t with you, no matter how much you know that bit is funny?
If you ever find yourself in this situation as a comic, here’s what you do:
Start talking about Back To The Future.
I’m tellin’ ya, it...
INFINITY POO
Again with the infinity pools. These things don’t quit: The whole thing with the horizon and what appears to be the end of the pool but it’s not the end, but kind of is. And I’m not gonna be swimming in these things. Whenever I see pictures of these things I always think: Oh, that’s something I won’t be doing today. A pool means I gotta take off my shirt. And taking off my shirt means...
NAPKINS
—Naked Guy
—# of Women
—Violence in Fast Food Joints
—Ambien
—Montell Jordan
—Jon Benet
—My Space
—Bin Laden Porno
—Wrong Apartment
—Impressions
—PBR
—Desert Island
—Vietnamese Whore
—Redneck Hipster
—Good Dirty Talk
—Empty Glass of Water
—Snuff Film
—Ice T...
AN OPEN LETTER TO THAT GUY WHO KEEPS HONKING HIS...
Yup! There you are! I can hear you right now. Honking your horn. That horn’s like a transponder! I know exactly where you are! You’re out front on my street. Now you’re one street east of mine. Now one street west. I can hear you wherever you are. That horn you got is something else. It let’s everyone know your precise location. I thank you for your style. I thank you for your...
OF NO AVAIL
The reasons why I don’t get a job are never interesting. And I mean never. I’ll come really close to getting something, not get it and then run into someone who was in on the casting or producing end of things and they’ll feel it’s customary or nice to explain to me why I didn’t get it. They’ll start talking about things like “energy” and “carriage” and “naturalness” (a word that has no...
"HEY, MAN, SERIOUSLY..."
Hey, man. What’s up? How’s it going? Haven’t seen ya in a while. Things are good? Hey, you know what? I just saw a play recently and you know who was in it? That girl you used to date. Yeah. Can’t remember her name. Oh, really? You’re still going out with her? No way! Wow! I had no idea. Well, it had been such a long time and people change and as I was watching her on stage, I just...
I HUG LIKE A PROTOCOL DROID.
LEIA: Can you relax for one damn minute?
3PO: Why, I—I—
LEIA: Seriously. You are tense, man.
C-3PO: Might I remind you, Princess, that I am a droid?
LEIA: Your excuses are so cute.
C-3PO: I am fluent in nearly all forms of verbal communication.
LEIA: Oh, I can think of one form you’re definitely not fluent in.
C-3PO: Really?
LEIA: Love.
C-3PO: Really!
LEIA: You know why you can’t speak Love,...
SUBTLE
So there’s this bathroom. Somewhere in Vegas. I’ve never used it, but if I did I know what I’d say right as I looked at these photos: “Subtle. I love the subtlety.” In fact, I’d think what they were responding to was my healthy, bright yellow stream of urine actively shooting out my urethra. Yeah? I mean, clearly they’re into the pee, right? Or maybe it’s my belt buckle. It says...
DISGUSTING
Hey, yeah, Happy Bastille Day tomorrow and shit. It’s French and stuff. When your last name’s Champagne you gotta kinda remember how French your name is and stuff. What happened on Bastille Day? Some kind of storming or something. I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. Here’s the thing: the 405’s gettin’ closed down Friday at midnight and I gotta be in...
OBNOXIMUS PRIME
Would I like to see Kevin Spacey play Richard III? Well, let me think about that for a second—no! Why, no thank you very much! I have received your offer, thought about it for a good amount of time (not really that much time, as you can see; I don’t know if you noticed, but I made up my mind pretty quickly there) and have decided: “Nnnno, thank you!” Wanting to see Mister Spacey (or, as he’s...
HOLD ME.
I’m on hold. Been on hold for fifteen minutes. SAG. Got a boner too. Being on hold with SAG gives me huge boners, man. I see I have some money due to me and I thought I’d—well, I don’t know—call them and ask about it. Silly me. What kind of a moron actually tries to get the money he’s owed. What a dipshit. What a problem-making asshole I am. Oh wait! Here they are! The hold music and...
AN OPEN LETTER TO THAT GIRL WHO I GUESS ISN’T...
Hey I’m not sure what your story is now but I know you were going out with that one guy for a while which I hadn’t heard you guys broke up but maybe you did and in fact it looks very much like you did because that guy you’re leaving with now sure as hell ain’t your boyfriend and in no way looks anything like your boyfriend but then if your boyfriend ain’t your boyfriend anymore then no harm I...
AN OPEN LETTER TO THOSE TWO PEOPLE WHO ARE FUCKING...
Hey, you two! Before y’all get to fuckin’, lemme just tell ya something:
Everyone knows you guys are fuckin’.
Everyone.
You guys are cool though. You’re not bad people. You’re both well liked and admired within the fairly far-reaching circle of acquaintances with whom you hang out. Neither one of you’s a shit-talker or upstart. You’re both good, mature, charming, consenting adults who have...
GET THESE MINUTES BACK.
You’re reading a review of some movie or TV show or even a song. And there it is. You almost got all the way through the piece without seeing it, but now your luck’s run out. That critic did it. He dropped it and you stepped in it. He played that card. And that card, goes a little something like this:
“I wish I could get back the ninety minutes it took to watch this film.”
Or variations of...
PET SYMPATHY
If I were in a gift shop and overheard someone ask the clerk: “Where’s your pet sympathy section?”, I wouldn’t immediately know what that was.
I wouldn’t think it was about sympathy for a pet. I’d think it was about sympathy your pet had for you, or trying to get your pet to have for you. Like, what if your problem was that your cat just doesn’t appreciate how you feel about stuff, and you’re...
"WE KID 'CAUSE WE HATE."
Some people say Charlie Sheen’s gonna be real uncomfortable during his Comedy Central Roast. And I’m like: Not any more uncomfortable than the comedians who have to pretend to like him. They’re the ones who are gonna squirm when they realize: “Wait a minute. Something’s wrong. Oh, I know what it is! I don’t like this guy.”
Roasts are for people...
TO WHOM IT BETTER CONCERN
Hey, guys. What’s up? I wish I knew to whom to address this, but it could be any one of you. So I gotta do it general-style and not get bogged down in specifics. Forgive my blanket salutations. I guess this letter would be the equivalent of a schoolmaster making a speech during mess hall and going: “All right. Whoever wrote ‘Mrs. Porters Has Large Hindquarters’ on the school flag this...
AN OPEN LETTER TO THAT GUY WHO UNFOLLOWED ME ON...
Just couldn’t take it, huh? Just couldn’t handle my reality, could ya? I threw down some brash real shit into your world, and you folded, didn’t you? I make one honest, salient, true observation about a bowling alley I went to, and that was just too much for ya, huh? I tweet this:
“You know you’re in a real bowling alley when you hear someone say: ‘I had my...
"OH YEAH. THIS SHOULD SUCK AGAIN."
I remember these. Snakes. On the 4th of July. The least patriotic-looking thing you could light off every year. Always looked like a fiery turd coming up out of the street. These things were just weird. Little dark pellets you couldn’t wait to put a match to. They sizzled and popped and grew into long, curly, ashen talons that blew away as soon as they burned out. What the hell? These...
I'D RATHER LOOK CREEPY THAN INTO MY PHONE.
Just randomly came across this:
***
Have You Ever
Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you’re going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to...
THANKS, LARRY.
Here’s what I do when I’m feeling bummed out about my career and honestly terrified that I’m never gonna work again: I retreat to my parents’ house (as I did today [July2, actually]) and tell ‘em how I’m feeling so they can make me feel better, which they always do. Food helps. And a nap. I could feel it getting hot at 10:30 and decided “I don’t...
June 2011
30 posts
DOWNLOW
I was at a 7-11 last week and on the cover of The New York Times was a picture of that Boston gangster who finally got caught in Santa Monica after being on the lam for like fifty years or something. The guy behind the counter (big thick beard, turbin) goes: “You know why white criminals get away with all their bullshit? Because they keep it on the downlow. They are secret. You...
"GO AHEAD. LIKE ALIEN 4 MORE THAN ALIEN."
“I wouldn’t be so mad about how much movies suck if it weren’t for all the people who seem genuinely happy about it.”
That’s something my friend Paul Jay just wrote on his Tumblr page, and I gotta say I wholeheartedly concur. I feel like I’m surrounded by people who totally get off on movies that suck. They seem to derive a giddy joy in liking films that are popularly disliked, almost...
IGNORE MY LEG.
See this picture? See that smile? See that goofy silliness? This is what I do whenever anyone unfollows me on Twitter. I move furniture out of the way to give myself room and then I just prance around my apartment like a little kid on his birthday! I can’t believe no one’s called the cops on me.
This is from a comedy show I hosted a little while ago. The show is called—as you can...
03/21/1994
“The Birthday Party” was as bad as I supposed it was going to be. Pretty badly directed. Paul was good though. I was the first person there and and George was in charge of the box office. Paul was standing there with George when I came in. As I get out my money, George asked Paul: “Does Matt get a comp?” And Paul said: “No! He does not get a comp!” What a bastard. I like him though—just...
AN OPEN LETTER TO THAT GUY DOING STRETCHES BEFORE...
Woa. You, sir, are serious. Here we all are waiting our turn, thinking about food and which people in our lives hate us the most, and there you are: Doing some pre-audition stretches. Impressive. I can see the dedication. I can see the drive. I can see the need to succeed. You’re stretching it out, leaning way over on your side and extending your arm. Now you’re resting the weight of your...
AN OPEN LETTER TO THAT WOMAN WHO MOVED HER PURSE...
I’m flattered. That you’d think that I’m gonna steal your shit. Really? I’m drunkenly eating a frittata and you think I’m gonna steal your purse. Actually I’ve heard that the best chaser for a late night egg dish is to jack a strange woman’s property. Right when I sat down next to you, your purse was right on top of the counter. You didn’t take it down and put it into your lap right...
"OH. YOU MEAN SEXUALLY!"
Yesterday I heard a guy say this on stage: “I liked to get peed on sexually.”
Oh yeah? You liked to get peed on, but you’re saying you like it sexually? Thanks for the clarification, cowboy. Now I get it. Otherwise, if you just say “I like to get peed on,” well, that could mean anything! I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard of people who like to get peed on platonically. Sure. A...
BEES BEES CUMMINGS
I’m starting to hike. I’m starting to climb. In the hills around Griffith Park. Because I got stung by that one bee that one time though, I slow down whenever I hear a bush a-buzzin’. What the hell would I do if I got swarmed on one of the literally off-the-beaten-path paths that I sometimes take? Probably say “sorry” a lot. Took one of those paths the other day I’d never taken before. And...
"BABIES" RHYMES WITH "RABIES."
Doesn’t the stork have the option to eat the baby if the parents don’t want it?
I like babies fine, okay? I’m not one of those anti-baby people. In fact, I often find most pictures of my friends’ babies to be quite adorable. But I know this: Making fun of babies is awesome!
Why doesn’t anyone ever talk about the fact that some babies are simply better than others? It’s, like,...
I GUESS GENOCIDE'S WORSE.
If this past year and a half continues in its shittiness, I—eventually—may have to learn to be a waiter. I’m exaggerating. I hope I’m exaggerating. God. That would suck. Here’s what would happen were I a waiter: I’d show up for work, put on whatever stupid thing I had to put on (civil war sword, kilt, white knee-high socks, conquistador helmet) stand at my station and then immediately start...
"YOU SURE IT'S IN HERE?"
(Timmy is a young bear cub. Barry is a pelican. Timmy is rummaging around inside Barry’s mouth, struggling to find something they both need.)
TIMMY: Is there anyone watching right now?
BARRY: I on’t eet oh.
TIMMY: ‘Cause we look stupid.
BARRY: Uh urry uh.
TIMMY: You do this to me every time, man. You can’t remember where you put the shit you need then I gotta help you find it. You gotta...