Thursday, December 23, 2010

The Adventure Finale

So I came across this ridiculous book while Christmas shopping last night. Apparently Abraham Lincoln was a Vampire Hunter? Who knew? I'd always pegged him as more of a Werewolf Killer but hey, I've been wrong before. I heard he reanimated in support of the sequel; John Wilkes Booth: Zombie Slayer. It is a shame though that he's had to lower his price 30%. Apparently this faltering economy has taken it's toll on assassins of mythological night dwellers. Hard times.
Not gonna lie, there’s something beautiful about my new found financial freedom. The ability to actually purchase presents has installed this irremovable, goofy looking smile across my face that makes people question my sanity or wonder if I pooped myself. I’m like a 9 year old over this whole thing. I think waiting to give Hillz, Steph  and Kelle their ridiculous presents is going to kill me. Best girls in the world.

Today was my last day in the Ash Tray (samash). Good thing I have this blog to serve as a reminder of good times...and my memory to correct the perception that good times were ever had. I think I’m gonna watch Casablanca, wrap gifts and get drunk on Dr Pepper to celebrate.

On a side note, I’m pretty sure my truck is going to explode any day now...I hope it looks cool when it does...

Sunday, December 19, 2010


Anti-Bullying rally went off without a hitch (or an Ellen). Not gonna lie, I felt like a little kid playing the Ritz again. I love that stage.  Good to see Adam and Ben again. It was kind of like a pitifully unplanned Busch Gardens reunion - just without the turquoise shirts or lust for suicide

Saturday, December 18, 2010

A Party for Ages

"Sometimes I wish I was selfish enough to ask you to take my hand and destroy your life with me…"

Last night was incredible. There was enough hideous ugliness to surpass the contents of a short film on the life and times of Joseph Merrick. I’m gonna miss these kids. I think they’re the only group of people willing to have a party where we all go in the bathroom and come out in each other‘s clothes shortly before exchanging ugly sweaters and sitting through a late night showing at SAK comedy lab. I tried to climb through the collar of Steph’s sweater, got my head and arms through and couldn’t go any farther. Timmy and Justin had to flail me around for ten minutes to get me back out and I’m pretty sure my ear came off somewhere in the middle of that amazing process. I think I can honestly say that that’s the first time in my life I’ve ever been stuck in the neck of sweater in the lounge of a downtown comedy club. I’m just lucky it didn’t go down in the dining room of a Jewish deli because I hate making the same mistake in the same location twice. Good times. It makes me laugh that the only guy tender enough to not see the boldly effeminate side in wearing a cardigan is the one who doesn’t believe that I’d take a bullet and fight Andre the Giant to protect these girls. I smile.

Playing for Ellen’s Anti-Bullying Rally tomorrow with Sammi Leigh and 10th Concession. I hope it goes well. Whatever, if not I’ll just sharpie the signs in the lobby to say Hellen. Nobody cares (or really even notices) if you sound bad at a Hellen Keller rally…

Friday, December 17, 2010


I just completed the biggest pancake party of the century.  Pancakes filled with everything imaginable; Dr Pepper, cyanide, chocolate, fruit, club soda, and combinations that would blow your mind out of the water like some kind of disgruntled mind pirate. Turns out the club soda myth was true. I guess it’s not a myth anymore. Almost like a little kid discovering that Unicorns roam the forests of northern California and nobody in the world believes him. Then one day by fate or chance some random schmoe comes along and destroys the serenity of the untouched, sacred ground that was once the Valley of Unicorn and proves to the world that we‘ve been wrong all along. It’s kind of scary. Everything we’ve ever been taught to believe was shattered in an instant. People died. Not at our party; but somewhere in the world our discovery killed someone. It’s sad to think that we’re responsible for the death of a middle-eastern nine year old that the Ronald McDonald Foundation was fighting to protect. Who knew that pancakes and unicorns could be so deadly from such a great distance…

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

The Fabulous Mr Hartley -

I am starting this blog at the request of myriad friends interested in following my musical updates, random happenings and news from abroad and at home. Apparently you all have no life. Not exactly sure why - but here you have it.  At your request, I give to you the ambiguous (and aptly named), "I Woke Up In a Van; Mr. Hartley's Five Cent Evening Review". This is it. This is really where it all begins. The big bang. That point of construction where crumb faced, pre-corrupted children plunge their pudgy hands into the wet cement, carving out their initials as an eternal message of youthful splendor; a Rosetta stone to future generations. A black obelisk of sorts to assist in describing the manic adventures of good times current and long since past. The back-story on the front page story you'll read in a third story hotel room sometime in the distant future. The most mindlessly thought provoking things you'll ever encounter -ever. This is going to get ridiculous really fast...