I profusely apologise for the hiatus that caused the weekend blackout of this blog. I don’t know what happened, I still haven’t heard back on my support ticket.
I know a lot of you were looking forward to trying a new drink to get wasted on last Friday, and that didn’t happen… I’m very sorry.
But it’s all back up now, and the drink is posted.

But screw you all, it was my 9th anniversary, so I’m not really all that sorry. I was out with Jaz, getting wasted, getting laid, seeing comedians, meeting comedians, and getting laid some more. We went to see a couple of shows at the comedy festival. Our first few dates were to the comedy festival, so there’d be something funnier to the basis of our relationship than my genitalia… I figured we continue the tradition.

The first show was Jamie Kilstein. He’s a left wing philosopher, writer for left wing rags, university drop out, atheist non-zionist jew… You know, the basis to most decent comedy routines that aren’t predicated on one liners.

Now this guy is being billed as the next Bill Hicks. I wouldn’t say he’s as good as Bill Hicks. Frankly, it’s a really tough yard stick to overcome… But I can see where the comparisons are coming from.
Like Hicks, Kilstein is amazingly acidic to the current state of US & World politics, and hates the sheer level of stupidity and ignorance that most people are kept in. He makes a lot of valid points.

And that’s what really bugs me about his routine.
This isn’t comedy. This is a guy venting, raging at the world, and people are laughing at it. I suppose, like Hicks, the only thing to do is laugh at it in a nervous, uncomfortable fashion, or burst into tears at how right he is about how fucked up things are… And possibly the worst part of it, the very worst part of it, is that none of this material is exactly new. These are the same fucking issues Hicks was ranting about at the beginning of his career… almost to the letter. The names of the figureheads may have changed, but the issues are the same.

If it weren’t for the alcohol, I would have been crying.

As it was, I was merely laughing obnoxiously and getting weird looks from the sound guy who was directly in front of me.

After the show, I actually ran into 3JJJ’s Marc Fennel (he & I go back a few years now, which is cool) while we were waiting to talk to Jamie. We caught up a little… He totally didn’t mention that he has his own show on, so I’m not sure if I’m going to go see it or not because of time constraints and not having set aside time for it (nice promo, Marc! )

So, after all that, we wander around a bit, get some dinner in China town, and back to the town hall we go for more comedy. This time we went to see the Ali McGregor “late night variety-nite night”… Basically vaudeville, with some comedy, some acting, a little dance, and a variety of musical numbers… oh, and a midget strip tease.

McGregor has a great singing voice. It’s a pity she’s wasting it on comedy (oh, and I suppose professional Opera, but it’s not like anyone goes to that), because she could easily be a lounge singer. Jessica Rabbit style, getting people to play patty cake. Her styling were tempered by a few nightly guests, which change on a regular rotation. We saw Wil Anderson who is kinda funny, I guess, but it’s too scripted. He seems like he’s working to get a laugh which is literally what he’s doing, I’m aware, it’s just that it doesn’t really seem like a natural conversation or even anecdote.

Kent Valentine was amusing, but clean. The humour didn’t really work for me, because he was telling airplane jokes. They’re an old staple, especially in the era of “domest airborne terror”, but considering I get everything just shy of being strip searched every time I fly, it’s not so funny. I do sympathise though.

Rima the itty bitty Burlesque Dancer kind of weirded me out. Being a midget, she basically was an 8 year old in lingerie with tits. This wasn’t helped by the fact she was basically dry humping a rocking horse and whipping it with some of the things implements I generally see people putting in their mouths at Vedette. I wasn’t sure if it was meant to be amusing, or erotic… the disturbing factor really made it a bit of neither for me.

The real highlight of the show was Celia Pacquola. I can see why she’s sold out every one of her shows. She’s that freaky, nervous chick from highschool you really wanted to fuck, but you know would burst into tears the moment you got a hand in her pants, and maybe scream “No, Daddy! Not there!”A turn on for some, certainly… I prefer my women with less odd sexual issues. Like Elmo suits with appropriately cut holes.

If you haven’t made it to the comedy festival yet, both were good shows. Tickets are available through Ticketek, and considering how a lot of these shows tend to sell out, I strongly advise pre-booking tickets. Also cuts down the waiting time because you can skip the queue.

So with everyone screwing around with martinis lately, I thought it was my turn to make a nice simple drink… and bastardise a martini while I was at it.

Porfidio is probably out of the price range for most people...

Presenting the Tequilatini (patent pending)
OK, I lied… I’m too cheap to apply for patents, so my best ideas get stolen regularly. (more…)

Ok, I lied.

Or at least misled you. He’s actually trying to get back in the black, financially speaking, and as such is doing a series of over priced concerts in London in July, so his music was playing pretty non stop on the radio after the announcement.

This brought back many a nostalgic memory from when I was a young boy and very much liked Michael Jackson. Back when he was still black, and attractive. As a young boy, I’m sure he would have liked me to. Even now, as weird as he may or may not be, he has a wonderful singing voice… It’s such a pity that such a great artist also happens to be bat shit insane.

Like the time he flew off the deep end when he found out that people were ripping off his music with this Internet thing. I wonder if he ever found out about the amazing rip off of Thriller?

Having watched it back to back with the original video, whilst the music is fucking terrible, those whacky Indians at least got the dance moves and crotch padding right.

I’m still waiting for an Indian version of Invaders Must Die.

It's ok B-9, you're in a place where you there's no danger, and you don't have to flail your arms around no more *sniff*

It seems that B-Grade cult celebrities just can’t stop dying this year. I mean, we had the warlock from Fantasy Island, and Betty Page popped off only a week ago (I tried to write a post about it, but when it ended up being over a thousand words long and none of it seemed bad enough to cut, I figured it was too long for most people).
And now the traigc passing of Bob May, best known for playing Robot B9 in Lost in Space, died yesterday.

A lot of you have absolutely no idea who is, but you’d definitely remember him flailing his arms about as Dick Tufield (the voice actor) screamed “Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!” from somewhere off camera every time Johnathan Harris (Dr Smith) got close to Billy Mum (Will Robinson). 

"Will, my dear boy, can you guess why my trousers are in absentia!?"

B-9 was quite possibly the arcehtype for a lot of the other robots out there. Elements of his design and personality are clearly evident in other more modern and equally (if not more) famous robots, such as Marvin the Paranoid Android. Let’s face it, 1960s robots were clearly classy, even if amazingly useless in their design. I mean, why pretend to have legs if you’re clearly getting around on wheels? Surely caterpillar treads would have been far more efficient, and would have provided a base that allowed for storage of many more useful items, and possibly an armament.

Of course, the real tragedy is that now the B-9′s that you could purchase and own for yourself at www.lostinspacerobot.com have become that much more tragic and endearing.

I think the real tragedy is that no one has attempted to kill that stupid robot that’s Nova FMs logo.