At UCB, when they post new house teams, their ‘starter’ names are anagrams for various people related to the theater. Teachers, managers; last year they did babies of UCB upper management.
Instead of doing anything productive, I spent a solid hour today looking up anagrams of my name. I was day dreaming that some ragtag collection of eight strapping young comedians would be graced with a nonsense phrase made out of my name.
And you know what guys? I promise you this, and I won’t give up till it’s true. Some day, GHETTO WORM BATTERER is going to kill it on Harold night.
Sure, it’s annoying for me to bring this up again, but this a tumblr. What were you expecting?
So. Danny. The gay character on Teen Wolf. He’s gay. Did we mention how gay he is? And he loves men too. His favorite things include: guys, being gay, identifying as homosexual, and being SASSY!
This character is offensively flat. When he finally had lines in an episode, those lines were: *SPOILER ALERT!* “No.” “No." "No." "…I don’t know."
He was being questioned by Stiles, who raps up this uninformative conversation by asking if Danny finds him attractive. Danny answers with a sneer, because all gay men are sassy.
In this week’s episode, he pulls off a lovely deus ex machina by magically knowing how to reverse search a text message just as the plot needs to reverse search a text message. But he won’t just do it. Oh, no. Too much sass to be helpful. So Stiles convinces him to help—by having Tyler Hoechlin’s character prance around shirtless for him.
That really struck me as real. Because gay dudes fawn over attractive bad boys and will do anything for anyone that gives them the opportunity to simply look at shirtless men.
I mean, I got my house redecorated by hiring a stripper to loaf around while my designer ogled him.
As if that weren’t bad enough, Hoechlin’s character later beats on Stiles for putting him up to it. I’m sure no one on set bothered to think, just maybe, that it might be spectacularly homophobic. Sure, you could say that his character was just reacting to being used. Or, wait a second. In a previous episode, Hoechlin’s character is blamed for LOCKING TEENAGERS IN A SCHOOL AT NIGHT, ATTEMPTING TO MURDER THEM, AND SUCCEEDING IN MURDERING A JANITOR—WHEN IN REALITY HE HIMSELF WAS BRUTALLY MUTILATED BY A MONSTER (CALLED FORTH BY SCOTT) AND ONLY LIVED BECAUSE OF HIS SUPERNATURAL POWERS. His reaction to this? He saves Scott and his friends when Scott loses control. But use him as gay bait? He’ll bash your head into a steering wheel. That’s what he did to Stiles.
You could argue he’s only being nice to Scott because he needs him. Well, Stiles uncovered the Alpha (the bad guy, for you non-viewers), which is a much bigger contribution than, say, turning you into a fugitive. Which Scott did.
MTV, you turn 30 this week. Do yourself a favor. Look at your life, look at your choices.
Anyway, I picked up a copy of Guru: My Time with Del Close by Jeff Griggs earlier this week and I finished it today. Which is not something I do. I read slower than honey drips.
It is an easy read, but if you’re an improv nerd—and chances are, if you’re following me, you are—read the shit out of this book.
Jeff chronicles his time with Del Close as he started running errands with him during the final two years of his life. Del (for those who don’t know) trained an entire generation of comedy greats. Tina Fey, Bill Murray, John Belushi, Chris Farley, the entire Upright Citizen’s Brigade, and John Candy are just the tip of the iceberg. He created the Harold. He was indirectly responsible for Scientology. He designed light shows for the Grateful Dead. And he was an insane old kook.
The book captures Del’s personality and portrays him as a rounded character. Jeff spares no words in capturing not only Del’s genius, but also the wildly offensive and bizarre shit he said.
There’s a chapter where Del explains why he thinks women are inherently less funny than men. There’s a chapter where he calls Martin DeMaat a faggot. And then there’s a chapter where he explains why truthful relationships are more important to comedy than jokes. He explains how laughter is a “gestalt reaction.” He also tells a bunch of kids that Santa Claus is dead.
If you’re into improv, you’ve got to read it. If you’re not into improv, you should probably still read it. I don’t have much a taste for biography, but it’s just great. Great, great, great.
They forgot to tell me when they were leaving, so I hadn’t gotten around to bugging them for a trip to the grocery store. I need them since the nearest store is about three miles away, across two highways, and I don’t have a car.
My mother’s solution, when I raised this problem to her, was to throw a few twenties at me. Ten minutes later, they left for Boston. Boston, where they’ll be staying for two weeks.
I just took inventory of the fridge. They left me one egg, seven onions, two ears of corn, half of a container of tapenade, a bottle of hot sauce, three kinds of mustard, two pounds of key limes and twelve bottles of wine.
When they return, I’m supposed to have prepared the food for a party of fifty people.
As I see it, I have two possible solutions. I can either become Jesus and stretch my food via miracle; or, I can make mediocre sangria with the wine and limes.