The upcoming blockbuster novella, "Virus," is almost here. I have been writing a masterpiece over the past several years which is truly unrivaled in the field of the printed word. The book is a sci-fi thriller, the likes of which the world has never seen. A three-part trilogy, Virus is like Star Wars and Lord of the Rings combined times 10. If you don't believe me, just read the book. Then you'll see.
There's a lot of other projects that I'm working on too. You don't even know. Remember that guy who wrote a movie script and then he got really famous. Everyone told him he couldn't do it either. But look at him now. I'm sure he laughs his ass off every time he thinks about all those losers telling him he'll never amount to anything. Look who's laughing now. All the way to the bank!
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A lot of people have asked me for the two Stryder songs that we posted on our website when we broke up. I always tell them I lost them but now someone found them! There is a new Stryder myspace page that has just posted the two songs we recorded after Jungle City Twitch, in my mother's house in Long Island. You can download them there. myspace.com/thestrydermusic
After we did these songs we decided to do our own things. I think as a band we had no idea what our own definition of success was and also built too much tension between us as people by failing to communicate our individual visions and criteria for success. Even if we tried though, we wouldn't know. I still am trying to figure out my own ideas about what success is as a songwriter and artist. My criteria change as much as these current times.
Our sound on these two last songs makes me think about what our next album would have sounded like, but the sound is also cool because it was two song writing partners polarizing in styles and direction. It was the sound of our death. Slowly we were growing apart as friends and brothers too, also ultimately our reason for demise as a band.
Sometimes I listen back to our music and think it's funny or embarrassing, and cringe at some lyrics that I actually wrote. But if anything I'm proud we went out and faced the world blindly and openly as teenagers and were given the opportunity to see our country first hand, and to add another musical brick in our wall of culture. I know more about my own vision and my ultimate dream now that I've been through it and hold these last two recordings very dear and am glad they're back.
In 1947 a new phenomenon was introduced to the American public. Although the vast majority of people wouldn't be interested in purchasing one or able to afford one until the late 50s, TV was destined to become one of the most common and influential products ever.
Television, however, may eventually lose out to the bottomless pit of entertainment know as the world wide web. TV networks are aware of this, and they are beginning to stake their claims on the net, but this transition from TV to the Internet may provide an arena for a new phenomenon.
Entrepreneurial, talented individuals and companies may have a new frontier to explore and eventually take over, and I wouldn't be surprised to see a new generation of powerful media tycoons take control of video entertainment. The day may come sooner rather than later when a company like the one I write for, Hidden Track TV, becomes a household name. And while CBS, NBC, and the mega-channels that exist now won't be in jeopardy of going out of business, they very well may need to make room for a new breed.
Last week when 2007 ended, we told you that it was time for the Drama Prairie Dog to step aside, and make way for the adorable Drama Prairie Cat, and once again 2008 is proving to be Lulu the Cat's year...Check out the latest big-time post on I-AM-BORED which is a site that only accepts the cream of the crop!
10. You could hire Isiah as a bathroom attendant at a posh night club.
9. Perhaps you might hire Isiah as a dj at your local strip club.
8. Let's hire Isiah as the next president of the United States of America.
7. They should hire Isiah as the GM and coach of the Boston Celtics.
6. Maybe Isiah would make a good judge on American Idol.
5. We should hire Isiah to poison Isiah Thomas with poison.
4. Isiah would make a good prostitute seem sub par at best.
3. I might hire Isiah to eat a medium sized child.
2. They could hire Isiah to fire Isiah.
1. Hire Isiah to hire Jeff Van Gundy to kill Isiah and take back the Knicks!
Christmas was my favorite holiday growing up. The memories of Christmas at home with my family are the best I got. When you’re a kid you don’t think about anything but having fun and enjoying yourself. It’s later that you realize what all that really meant.
Christmas ‘94; I was married to my first wife at the time. 4 days before the big day and the phone rang at like 5:30 in the morning. It was my mother and said I had to come to the house right away - she said something about my father and i knew her voice wasn’t right. I drove from Jersey to Staten Island, to the house I grew up in, and I knew the whole way - I could feel he had died. I remember walking into the living room and seeing the look on everyone’s faces and I knew my life was all of a sudden different, I was 32 and my dad was dead.
He had lung cancer but didn’t tell anyone, not even my mother, he was like that. He didn’t want anyone to worry or feel bad for him. In the back of my mind I’ve always questioned if I told him I loved him enough, did I do this, did I do that? My dad was good to me. I never felt like I had made it - as a comic - until I heard him telling his friends that’s what I did for a living. From then on Christmas has always been a mixed bag.
I’ve mentioned it before but I stopped drinking in October and that means doubling down on the Lexapro and Xanax to calm my nerves and anxiety. I heard it would be tough to kick the Xanax from a few people so I’ve been cutting down the last 2 weeks but I was feeling the effects. Sunday the 23rd as I was driving to Sirius to do Miserable Men. I was like 3 blocks away and I started to feel light headed. I felt so stressed out and went into a bit of a panic attack, I parked my car and thought about sitting down on the bench or trying to make it around the corner. I decided to keep walking and had a cigarette out front of the studio. I thought I might die - I couldn’t catch my breath. I just stood there, light headed, thinking about my dad and my son, Christmas and my career…
I pulled myself together thanks to two New York hot dogs courtesy of my good friend Geno Bisconte. I was OK by the time Miserable Men started but I decided to cut down to one pill a day instead of the 3.05 mg’s I’m supposed to take. I had to make sure I was in tip top shape for the opening of my Comedy Club in Levittown, Pa.
My girlfriend Chrissy flew in for the opening. I was, all of a sudden, really nervous about the debut because I had kind of decided that I was going to propose to her on stage if I killed during my set. I was thumbing the ring box in my pocket and the room was packed with friends and fans. So, after I ate blue cheese out of a girl’s ass to close the show, I called Chrissy up on-stage. She walked up halfway and then stopped with a confused look, she later told me she was scared I was going to try to eat something out of her ass. I kept telling her, “Come here, come here”. So she came on stage and I told her I loved her and pulled the ring out of my pocket and asked her to marry me.
In true Stern/Kidd Chris fan fashion, someone yelled out, “Get on one knee, asshole!” and the place went nuts. So I got on one knee, almost blew my back out, and asked her to marry me again. She was stunned and had her hands over her face for what seemed like an hour. I asked her again, “Will you marry me?” She said yes.
Traffic was horrible getting back into the city and we were late meeting Lisa from Howard 101 but still made it to the studio in time for Miserable Men. The show went great, the callers had a great time making fun of me for getting married again. There were a few well wishes, too.
Next Week - New Year’s in Philly with Artie Lang!
Tip of The Week- If you’re going to get engaged in front of an audience, get on one knee or someone will call you an asshole.
-The Reverend Bob Levy
You can get more of the Rev Bob every Sunday night at 7:00 pm on his radio show Miserable Men, Sirius Satellite Radio - Howard 101.Original Post from HotMovies the Blog
The entire camp was in the gym, and we had a guest speaker, Bill Wennington of The Chicago Bulls. He gave us this boring speech, and then started going around the crowd, playing 1-on-1 against different campers. He played the first two very easily, let them have the ball, and barely played defense. He then went up against one of the high schoolers, and he went at him really strong. The kid stopped Wennington, then backed him in, and scored on him! A high-school kid scoring on an NBA player! The whole crowd erupted, and Wennington was pissed! He starts looking around, and looks at me sitting there, and throws me the ball. Let me remind you that I was 5 feet tall, 11 years old, and he is a 7 foot tall NBA player, who was just embarrassed in front of a couple thousand people. So Bill was nice enough to give me the ball first. I look up, and he was guarding me close, I mean really guarding me! I dribbled in, came back behind the 3-point line, and heaved up a prayer. Bill then proceeds to block the ever-living shit out of my shot, and recover the ball. I line up to play defense, and he drives hard to the hoop. I had to get out of the way, because he was about to barrel me over. He then throws the ball of the backboard, catches it in the air, then dunks it with authority, and comes crashing down in to me. So not only did he serve me in front of the whole camp, I was in pain for about 2 weeks thereafter from a 7-footer landing on me.
Way to go Bill Wennington, you sure showed em. This story is 100% true, and was the start of my realization about the NBA possibly being out of my reach. I'm confident that I would've made the NBA though, if I was about a foot and a half taller.
As the future presidents of the United States of America all jockey for position while eating pizza and cheating on the first ladies out in chilly Iowa, the poor man rolls along. Who is this poor man? Me, you say? No, my silly friend, it's you. Cheers brotha.
But seriously, I couldn't care less about these Iowa caucuses. I mean, Iowa? That's far away- why would I care about anything that happens far away from my comfortable little house. Ha- I wouldn't. And you shouldn't either. I say, in 2008, we boycott the elections. After that, anarchy can reign and Mel Gibson will drive up on his motorcycle and really take over. That's what the world needs now. Mel Gibson running shit on a bad ass hog.
Why aren't I smoking a bowl right now?
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