“Christmas Time For The Jews”
-SNL TV Fun House
Tonight is my last night in this apartment! Despite being so far north on the Red Line this studio has served me well for the past year and a half. I’ll miss this neighborhood (mostly the 24 hour CVS), but I can’t wait to get out of here! I’m on to bigger and better things and it feels good.
This is one of my favorite (and dumbest) shows to do and put together….
“BILL AND TED’S EXCELLENT CHRISTMAS ADVENTURE”
Written By Scott Auckerman, Jon Daly, Brett Gelman, Rob Huebel, BJ Porter and Paul Scheer.
Starring Bret Gelman and Paul Scheer as Bill and Ted
with
James Adomian as Santa and Taylor Lautner
Jackie Clarke as Ellin Nordegren
Jon Daly as The Sham Wow Guy and The Old Man From “Up”
Rob Huebel as The OctoMom and Billy Mays,
Brandon Johnson as Chris Brown, Kanye West, and Precious’ Momma
Jordan Peele as Tiger Woods
Paul Rust as Jon Gosselin and Michael Jackson
Kulap Vilaysack as Balloon Hoax Boy
Plus Guest Appearances by John Hamm and Michael Gladis as Don Draper and Paul Kinsey, Weird Al Yankovic and Brody Stevens as themselves
UCB-LA | Comedy Death Ray Xmas Nativity Pageant | 12.15.09
This looks like it might be the greatest thing ever created. Why don’t these guys come to Chicago and do these shows!? Why don’t people in Chicago put on shows like this!? Gah!
This is so freaking hilarious that it just made my day. Now I have to go re-apply my makeup.
The Situation explains The Situation to Conan (1:20 ) Amazing
An email to all the assistants:
Next Monday, 12/21, Kevin O’Brien (President and CEO of Global Broadcasting) will be in our office. Please make sure you are appropriately attired.
From Tuesday, 12/22 through the end of the year you can wear jeans if you so desire. 2 caveat’s:
Any ??’s let me know. Happy Holidays!
I can’t fucking stand it when people insist on making simple procedures incredibly complicated.
I freaking love this movie.
Reason #875 you are my heterolifemate.I have two co-workers who sit in my immediate vicinity - Chase and Melonye. The three of us share mundane conversations all day long. It’s how we keep our sanity. Just now, they were talking about something, and I was only half paying attention. I hear Chase say, “What’s it called? Bronze… no, maybe brass nnn…” So I pop into the conversation and say, with great authority, “Brass knuckles.”
Turns out he was looking for “Brush nickel” because he’s redoing his kitchen, and I’m the freak who’s thinking about gang weapons at 9:45 am. Oops.
This is on VH1 right now. I still remember laughing until I was crying at this when I was in college, and it is still just as funny and scary today as it was then.
Forget Paris. Romance is a Sunday.
I love sundays. Sundays are the absolute best. Forgetting about the trepidation of work following on Monday and just making the day an absolute non-productive/all relaxed span of time. I plan on making this true forever. Even in the future. And sharing that slow and quiet stretch with whoever I end up with. I look forward to domestic bliss in a way completely unbefitting of being the city mouse who likes tall buildings and the siren song of ambulances when he goes to sleep.
Because we can claim Sunday as our own. In the morning, in our house. White walls and old paint, our kitchen table will be oak and across it will be spread layers of newspaper, newly dropped off, for us to comb through and share. As we read and sip our coffees the sun will shine through the windows overlooking our snow covered yard. The morning light will hit the sill and the bright columns of colored light will intermix with glittering dust particles. Our robes will be clean, our toes will be warm and I see no reason why we can’t go back to bed if we want to.
But we won’t. We’ll get dressed and take the dog on a walk, maybe into town. You’ll go to that used bookstore where you like to run your hand along the spines of books as you walk down the aisles and take great intakes of breath smelling the yellowing pages and aging covers. I’m going to stop in at Ed’s and have my hair cut and listen to him talk about friends from the army and baseball players long forgotten. We’ll meet back at the square next to the statue and begin a slow leisurely walk home as the sun dips deeper toward the trees that line the horizon on all sides. Maybe we picked up a movie that we can half pay attention to as we sit and decide what we want for dinner. After this, we can sip tea and watch the streetlights buzz on. Then to bed and after what transpires there I want to read a book I’ve always loved as you slumber beside me, one hand outstretched and laying against my chest.
Oh my fucking god, that’s going to be so fucking AWESOME. FUCK PARIS.
I’m fairly certain I am alone in thinking that what this guy has described as pure romantic bliss sounds like the most boring, dull thing next to listening to the head of your company talk about budgets. I might as well be in a coma. I hope my life never comes to that and I will fight everyday to avoid it. But, like they say, one man’s heaven is another man’s hell.
(via blondezombie)
Fuck yes.It is actually freezing outside! Freezing! It is still strange to me that it actually gets this cold here, and stays so cold for so long. It’s basically frozen fingers and noses until April and it’s nights like these that make me truly thankful for all of the stuff I have (mostly my warm apartment). Being cold for months on end is a bitch, and it gets annoying, but it’s also very adventurous. I’m looking forward to the coming months. Cold or not. I’m here to party.
I don’t want to start any shit here but-
If your god tells you that certain people are going to hell (or anywhere- especially Iowa- sorry Iowa) if you do something it doesn’t approve of, then I say you should get a new god. Because what kind of lame omniscient being are you worshipping that would be such a jerk? Is your god a five year old? Do you really want to go to his birthday party that bad that you’re worried about making him cry? I mean, if you turn out to be right and that kind of god actually exists then your god’s kind of a punk. Know what I’m saying? Maybe you should tell your god to MAN UP and not be such a wuss. It’s a big world out there and freaking out every time two dudes say they love each other is really gonna knock the energy out of you. Let’s save the hellfire for murderers and rapists, okay? Listen, dude, just because you started the band doesn’t mean you always get to decide what we’re going to play.
That might seem non-sequitous, but it makes PERFECT sense to me.
Yes.
Ditto.
(via clientsfromhell)
This is my new favorite blog.
