Happy National Tickle Day!*

Happy National Tickle Day*

Well, it’s January 31st again and like every January 31st, that means it’s National Tickle Day*, the day when you take a little bit of time out of your day to tickle somebody special.

I’ve got some big plans for National Tickle Day*, starting with an early morning tickle session with Mrs. Black. Normally she hates being tickled, but she loves America more than she hates being tickled and so for this one day each year she puts up with it. (She doesn’t know that National Tickle Day is observed in many countries around the world and not just America, but I’m not going to tell her that. Tee-hee.) Where am I going to tickle her? Only my fingers know!!! (Hint: on her tummy.)

A Few Thought About My Daughter's Short Story

In my previous post, I published a short story by my daughter Suri who is four. In this post, I’d like discuss that story.

For those of you who have not had a chance to read the story, here it is, reprinted in its entirety:

Once upon a time, nobody knowed what to do and they falled dead.

The end

Poo-poo

I’d like to start with some positive thoughts I have about this work. First off, I appreciate the story’s structure. Unlike a lot of short stories by children, this one has characters, conflict, and resolution. The story’s protagonists (nobody) encounter a familiar problem (ennui), the result of which is tragic and predictable in its simplicity (death).

A Short Story by My Daughter (4)

Once upon a time, nobody knowed what to do and they falled dead.

The end

Poo-poo

Transcript of Washington Post Chat

We just finished and had a lovely time, although I didn't realize Showalter was ragging on me until after the fact because we were in separate locations. Had I known I would have ragged back. So, for the record, he's a fat weenie.

Here's the transcript.

A Lame Story From My Teenage Life

This is a blog where people tell stories. I told one of mine. Read about it on Paperthinwalls.com. Hint: it involves a famous, now deceased live music venue.

Chat Live With Me & Michael Showalter

On Friday, January 25th @ 1:00 EST, The Washington Post will be hosting a live chat with Michael Showalter and myself. You can ask us anything! (Off-limits topics: politics, religion, show biz, food, horoscopes, music, herpes) For more information, click here.

                  (Pictured: Michael Ian Black, Michael Showalter)

 

To All My Jessica Suarez's

I spoke with DCist blogger Jessica Suarez today, and when our interview was done she taught me how to place images into my blog in such a way that they don't look terrible, which is a problem I've been wrestling with for months. To thank her, I wanted to put her picture up, but when I Googled "Jessica Suarez," I got over four thousand hits. I would not have thought so many people with the surname "Suarez" would have thought to name their daughter "Jessica." I wouldn't have thought that at all. With so many Jessica Suarez's to choose from, I had to narrow my favorites down to three. It's possible - nay, likely - that none of these are MY Jessica Suarez. If not, I apologize. But not really.

There's a lot to like about this particular Jessica Suarez, although she looks more Suarez than Jessica to me. But I like that she's at a lectern, and if you look closely, you will notice the other thing I really like about this Jessica Suarez - she has braces. In my imagination, Jessica is at church singing along to a karaoke version of some song by the Christian alt. rock band Jars of Clay. Photography note: the fern behind her is almost like a halo. Beautiful.

Happy MLK Day, Everybody

Happy MLK Day everybody. Man, do I love the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr. Every American should. He's our Gandhi. Except he got more tail than Gandhi. And he dressed better. Gandhi was a great man, no doubt, but he could have used a little help in the wardrobe department. MLK always looked good.

Why aren't there any more like him? In the same decade, we had JFK, RFK, MLK - young men, great men. What happened? Maybe today's great young men are keeping their mouths shut so they don't get shot. I can't say I blame them. Maybe greatness isn't worth getting popped.

There are a couple holidays I take seriously: Thanksgiving, Memorial Day, MLK Day. What do I do to observe today's holiday? For one thing, my wife are going to Trader Joe's later to get some groceries. But I also think it's worth taking a moment to think about a guy willing to trade his life for justice, and to use non-violence as the means of achieving his goals. 

I'm going to take a page from MLK's book and pledge that from this day forward, I am going to use non-violence to achieve MY goals. What are my goals? First: get some Taco Bell. I'm going to do it non-violently. Even if somebody cuts in line. Even if they are out of Dr. Pepper. Second goal: take a nap. Third goal: surf the web.

My goals are admittedly more humble than achieving racial equality for millions of Americans, but does that mean they are any less important? Yes. Yes they are. But I really do love peace and Taco Bell.

Happy MLK Day, everybody.

Austin

Normally when people think of Arctic cold, they don't think of Austin, Texas. They weren't at our show the other night. It was very cold, which wouldn't have mattered, except that the show was outside. An outside comedy show in freezing rain is not normally my idea of a good time, but I have to say, the audience was superb. First of all, they showed up, for which they get a big gold star. Then they had the decency to laugh at the jokes, and as far as I know, nobody died from hypothermia. There was at one girl in the crowd who was certainly in danger of dying from alcohol poisoning, as evidence by her drunken slurring from the front of the stage any time either Michael Showalter or I said anything. Was it annoying? Yeah, it was. Did I ask her to shut up? I did. Did she shut up? No, she did not. Finally, as a last resort, I brought her up on stage with me to discuss why she felt the need to flap her big drunken lips. The audience was very upset with her, and it was all I could do to keep them from tearing her limb from limb. How did I treat her? With love. And guess what? It worked. She went back into the audience, never to be heard from again. I felt like Gandhi overthrowing the Colonial British. Maybe it wasn't quite as dramatic as that, and I did not need to endure a lengthy hunger strike to achieve my goal, but it definitely showed the power of non-violent protest. Later in the night, I heard that girl was savagely beaten, but I had nothing to do with it. Austin, you're a great town and thanks so much for showing up in the miserable weather to come see us.

Here's a picture of the club:

 

Finally - Hate Mail!

It's about time. Yesterday was the first time I received hate mail on this blog. I've had this blog up for about four months - what took so long? The first one was from Jimmy, who wrote:

"Me and my wife saw you tonight and we left 1/2 way through.  You guys suck and should stay out of the great state of Texas."

Thank you, Jimmy, for having the courage and decency to express an unpopular opinion in this forum. I told Michael Showalter (who performed with me last night) about your comment and he had the same question that I had. It's a math question:

If Jimmy and his wife stayed for half the show, that would mean they only saw Michael Showalter's set, because he does the first half of the show and then I do the second. If that's the case, I don't think it's fair for him to say that "you guys" suck, because he would have only seen Michael Showalter, who did not suck at all. In fact, he was very funny! But if Jimmy stayed for half of my set, that would have put him about 3/4 of the way through the show before leaving. The only way he could have seen half of the show and seen both of us was if he and his wife arrived halfway through Showalter's set, and then left halfway through mine - this was a real brain scrambler, Jimmy. Thanks for posting it. Either way, I'm sorry you left early because you missed my big finish, in which I brought out a Texas state flag and pissed all over it. (But in a funny way.)