I'm in Minnesota

Which is similar to being in Canada, but better. Nobody here pretends it's cool to be in Minnesota the way they do in Canada. In Canada, there's definitely an inferiority complex going on, where people feel the need to flaunt their Canadaness to over compensate for the fact that they live in a third world country. Not here. In Minnesota, they're satisfied to be where they are, but nobody's jumping up and down about it. There aren't tons of Minnesota gift shops everywhere or Minnesota pride parades or anything like that. They keep whatever pride they have close to the breast. Which is okay with me because they have a great rack.
As in Canada, people here like hockey, but unlike Canada they don't have it on every television set. In Canada, they have hockey games on at the library. At the library here, they have sausage tastings. Much better.

Tomorrow I'm going out on the icehouse. I've never been in an icehouse before, but I'm told it's a very popular activity. Basically what they do is, every winter all the citizens get together and build ghettos on a lake. They stay in their shanties drinking beer and trying not to freeze to death. It's like going to the worst slum in Rio de Janeiro and then adding deadly cold. Should be a good time! So we're going to do that for a few hours and then I suppose we'll head inside and talk about what we did in the shack. I don't know if they have that sort of thing in Canada or not, but I bet they do because whatever we have they have, only worse. Except that I can't really imagine it being any worse.

Me Without Make-Up

From time to time, I will give people some "backstage information" about the inner workings of show business. Today, I'd like to dispel one of the many prevailing myths about people on television and in film. A lot of outsiders think that we wake up every day looking fantastic. Nothing could be further from the truth. To look as good as we do, we have to go through HOURS of make-up and grooming. Then we have to get under flattering light, and sometimes even that isn't enough. I understand why people see me on television and think, "I want to have his babies." I get that, but the simple fact is that without the services of professional make-up artists and stylists, I look just as bad as you people. In fact, I'm going to publish, for the first time anywhere, a photograph of myself the way I look as soon as I get out of bed in the morning.

Here it is:

There's a few things to which I'd like to draw your attention. First, notice the fact that I have two heads. It's my second head which is probably my biggest physical "flaw." If you watch VH1, you'll notice that I usually don't look straight into the camera. This is because I have two heads, which make some people queasy. But I think there is an unrealistic standard of beauty in this country; why shouldn't somebody with two heads be considered beautiful? As long as they're both attractive heads, which fortunately mine are. Two heads or no, I'm naturally very attractive. Even so, even I have my bad hair days. Today is one of them. My hair comes to an ungainly point right in the middle of my foreheads. A lot of times, my third eye is extremely puffy in the morning. Today is no exception. My skin is mottled and I need a shave. Put it all together, and you can see that if I were working today, I'd have several hours in the make-up chair ahead of me. This is the unglamorous part of show biz that people rarely see. So the next time you see one of your favorite celebrities walking the red carpet, just remember that person doesn't really look like that. Most celebrities are filthy hags and trolls.

Nature Walk

I'm going to go on a nature walk with my wife this morning. We love to get up early and stroll through the woods behind our house. It's great for us and it gives us a chance to see all the woodland creatures: squirrels, bears, deer, fox, moose, elk, and chickens. Plus it's just a fantastic way for us to get reacquainted. With my busy schedule and her habit of sleeping eighteen hours a day, we seldom have a chance to just talk. Of course, when I say "talk," I mean "argue." And when I say "argue," I mean "accuse each other of treachery." It's great.

Ballmore

In Baltimore tonight. Somebody wrote to me saying that they had watched "The Wire" on TV and were a little concerned that they might get killed if they came to the show. I honestly could not promise them that would not be the case. In fact I suspect that there's a very good chance somebody will get killed tonight - with laughter. And bullets.

Showalter and I took the train down from the New York city region. The train is a great way to travel, especially if you take the Orient Express, which is what we took. Mahogany wood paneling, porcelain flatware, crystal glasses, just beautiful. Sharing our car with us was a dowager, a mad scientist, an heiress, an aging tycoon, and a butler. Needless to say, there was a murder. After much confusion and several red herrings, I managed to solve the crime. It was Showalter. I didn't tell anybody, though, because I didn't want to have to do extra time at the show tonight.

NEW SHOWS ADDED!

Texas, Brooklyn, Virginia, DC. Check the calendar for details.

At the Airport

I'm finally heading home from Canada. While I enjoyed my time in the Great White North, it will be good getting back to a place where people actually speak English. I'm posting the accompanying photo to show that, as popular as rainbow machines are in Canada, even here they go on the fritz. Normally the Vancouver Airport is awash in rainbows, but when I arrived today I was informed that the entire system was down for reasons they could not explain, although I strongly suspect terrorists. Pictured is the top of my head and their vast array of non-functioning rainbow machines, which are ordinarily the pride of Vancouver:

As you can see, they're just kind of dully glowing up there, no rainbows in sight. I've been assured that they've got teams of leprechauns working on the problem, but my guess is my flight will have long departed before they get the problem resolved. No big deal, as I've got my own rainbow machine waiting for me at home, but still. When you fly first class (as I always do), the least you can expect is a working rainbow machine in the airport boarding area.

Anyway, it will be good to get home and see my children, whose names escape me at the moment. I bought them some gifts at the Duty Free shop. I hope children like perfume and fine liqueurs. Sunday I'm going down to Baltimore for a show with Michael Showalter. Expect lots of jokes about crabs and Old Bay seasoning. I've been working on a several hour's worth of Old Bay seasoning jokes for the last year or so, and I've been waiting for the appropriate venue to try them out. I think Baltimore might be it.

Total poker winnings in Vancouver: a meager $700 (Canadian).

What I Look Like in Canada

This is what I look like in a coffee shop in Canada:

You'll notice that there is a fully functional rainbow machine operating here. All the Canadian coffee shops have them, which is great, except that I find that people tend to congregate at their tables and chairs a little longer than in the States, a direct result of the plethora of coffee shop rainbow machines. After all, why bother going home and wasting electricity on your personal rainbow machine when you just go hang out in a coffee shop and get bathed in full spectrum light for free (or, rather, for the cost of a cup of coffee)?

Anyway, I'm here for a couple more days and then home for a couple days, then Baltimore, then home, then a family trip to Minnesota for the holidays, then home, then New York for a couple days, then home, then I don't know. I just don't know anymore.

Will I miss Canada? No doubt. Will I miss Canadians? No I will not. Friendly on the outside. Backstabbing conniving motherfuckers on the inside. Is that true? No. They're friendly on the inside too, but that doesn't make for very good writing. Although there was a guy who was just found guilty of killing six hookers up here. So that's something.

My Lost Weekend in Vancouver

I am in Vancouver with my friend Ken Marino. Today is Monday, and I have to say, I'm surprised I survived Friday-Sunday because we went CRAZY!!! How's this for starters: Friday night, we go see "No Country for Old Men." A lot of guys would have called it a night after that. Not us. Afterwards we went out for dinner. What kind of dinner? Sushi, motherfuckers. Raw motherfucking fish. And not just one sushi either. Many sushis. And tea. Did the night end there? No. We followed that up by walking to a chocolate shop where Ken got a chocolate-covered frozen banana!!! How much of it did he eat? Only all of it.

Vancouver, Again

Well, I'm in Vancouver again. You wouldn't think that Vancouver would feel like a foreign city, considering it's in the American protecorate known as Canada. And yet, there is something distinctly foreign feeling about it. Maybe it's the annoying way they spell the word "centre," or the fact that they really do end sentences with, "Eh?" (Ex: "That was a pretty good blow job, eh?") Also, I've noticed that the Canadian obsession with the sport of hockey crosses over the line from fanaticism right into the territory of utterly boring. God, do they love hockey. I've learned more and cared less about this sport during my time up here than I thought humanly possible.

On the other hand, Canadians can't help but be friendly. They're like baby goats. Also, I've asked around, and it turns out that socialized medicine is pretty fucking great, despite what our politicians tell us. Michael Moore was right - Canadians are thrilled with their health care system. They don't wait days to get seen by a doctor, it's all free, and as a result, everybody smokes. Also, surprisingly, Canadian news is filled with stories about Canada. This is surprising because I was unaware that anything happens in Canada. As it turns out, I was right. Sample story from the news the other night: two Vancouverans had their specially made bicycles stolen. This story occupied about three minutes on the broadcast. How about a senseless shooting or something to liven things up, Canada?

The other surprising thing about Canada is that everybody here is Asian. You think I'm joking but I'm not. It's because, for some reason, white Canadians don't breed. 1 in 3 Canadians are foreign born, and most of those people are Asian. Which is good if you happen to have a fetish for Asian girls. Not that I do, but if one happened to , it would be pretty fun. If one did.

 

Anyway, the other good part about Canada is that there's a casino about two minutes from my hotel. The only downside is that when you win, they give you Canadian money.

Home

I'm home for one day before heading back out to Vancouver. Last night Sho and I did a big show at the Fillmore (formerly Irving Plaza) in New York. A very good show, featuring an appearance by the Doilies, Showalter and Zack Orth's musical comedy duo.

Tomorrow, as I said, I'm going back to Vancouver for about a week, and then back home. All this travel has me very tired. Last night, for example, I slept for six years. How is it possible that I slept for six years in a single night? I know. It's a weird one.

Maybe you're wondering why I haven't been posting so much. The truth is, I've been writing a bunch of State sketches, and I just don't have time to meet all my familial and professional obligations AND write both State sketches and blog postings. So the blog postings have been suffering.

To give you a idea of the kind of thing I've been writing for the State: Showalter and I wrote a piece called "Famous American Male Authors Slow Dancing With Each Other." Needless to say, it definitely features a moment where Mark Twain cups Ernest Hemingway's buttocks.