New Year Resolution

Last year, my new year's resolution was to join a gym - check.

This year, it's to go to the gym.

Rock On,

Aitch

From the Mouth of Moms....

The Setting: My brother's house....

The Players: My mom, Josie, my brother, my sis-is-law, my nephew, myself

The Backstory -Mom came to Josie and my apartment for Thanksgiving. Josie cooked. It is now one month later...

Aaaaannnnd action!

Mom - So Josie, what else did you get for Christmas?
Harris - The book...
Josie - Oh yeah, Harris also got me a book by Anthony Bourdain.
Mom - Who's he?
Josie - He's this famous chef.
Mom - Ooohh....so you're going to learn to cook?

Aaaaaaaaand Scene!

Rock On,

Aitch

Quiz

Which of the following are wrestling moves, and which are Japanese Candlestyick formations (which are technical stock market patterns, if ya didn't know) -

1. Gravestone Doji
2. Polish Hammer
3. Dragon Suplex
4. Shooting Star
5. Shooting Star Press
6. Hanging Man
7. Asian Spike
8. Downside Tasuki Gap
9. Mandible Claw
10. Atomic Drop
11. Abondoned Baby
12. Evening Doji Star
13. Corkscrew Plancha

Answers

Wrestling Move - 2,3,5,7,9,10,13
Japanese Candlestick Formation - 1,4,6,8,11,12

Rock On,

Aitch

Me and My Boss

My Boss: Did Tanner call you with the numbers?

Me: Ummm, yeah.

My Boss: How do they look?

Me: Good...I'll show you after.

My Boss: After what?

Me: After I'm done peeing.


Rock On,

Aitch

Bosco

My office moved from midtown to downtown a few weeks ago. It was done over a weekend, and my boss, nice guy that he is, didn't want me to have to come in unless there was a problem with the move.

When I was about to leave, the Friday of Moving Weekend, he asked me what was the password to get on my computer. I got nervous.

"Why do you need that?" I asked.
"I just want to make sure nothing happened during the move."
"I"m sure it'll be fine, besides, I backed everything up."
"That's good, but I still want to see."
"Well, maybe I'll come in."
"That's crazy," He said, and laughing, added, "Don't worry, I'm not going to look at your files. I dont care what you have on there."
"I'm not really worried about that."
"Okay, then just give it to me."
"Why don't I just come in?"
"What are you afraid of?" He was starting to get suspicious.
"Nothing."
"Then just give it to me. I'm saving you a trip."
"Okay, It's umm, "I", "L", "O", "V","E","J","O","S","I","E."
He snickered. I left.

Rock On,

Aitch

'Twas the Night Before Christmas (On Elm Street)

‘Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house,
not a creature was sleeping, surely not Timmy Strauss

His traps were all set; he laid them with care.
In case he couldn’t wake from his latest nightmare.

As tired as he was, he wouldn’t dare close his eyes.
But not why you’d think, nor why you’d surmise.

He snapped at the band he placed on his wrist.
The pain was so great, his hand made a fist.

His pulse was racing – sweat dotted his face.
He said all his prayers, and repeated them – post haste!

“What’s going on? Why the fear?” You inquire.
“This night should be joyous, but Timmy’s so dire!”

The reason is simple Tim’s shaken to the core.
His expected caller’s not of Ol’ Christmas lore.

As you may guess, this won’t come as a shock
Even Santa himself fears young Timmy’s block.

But that’s what you get when your mailbox comes complete,
With an inscription that reads – six sixty six Elm Street.

So pray for young Timmy that he survives the night
His mom’s just kissed him and turned off his light.

A long metallic screech Tim heard from the roof
He hides under covers not waiting for proof.

He curls in a ball with his teddy bear beside,
As he pictures the guy with the face that looks fried.

But a funny thing happened on this Christmas Eve
The sound faded off, Timmy was quite relieved.

He got out of bed and ran to the window –
to see a fat bearded man with eight ‘deer in tow.

Timmy laughed at his fears, as his heart stopped racing
He breathed in deeply, his worries, erasing.
But on turning around, in true horror fashion,
Freddy Krueger stared down, Timmy’s face turned ashen.

I’ll spare you the details, but ‘twas was not a pretty sight,
A Merry Christmas to all and to all a good fright.

Rock On,

Aitch

Reasons Why Regulatory Accountants (my profession) Are Not the Star of Certain Genre Movies

Body Switch Movie - The Regulatory Accountant who turned into another person would run away, refusing to return for the climactic Realizing-That-Things-Were-Great-As-They-Were scene.

Mockumentary - There's nothing funny about Regulatory Accounting.

Superhero - Regulatory Accountant would find it difficult to continue making excuses to get out of meetings in order to save world again.

Romantic Comedy - Regulatory Accountants are too boring; not even Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler could make the audience care about them.

Coming Of Age - No one dreams of becoming a Regulatory Accountant.

Historical Drama - There were no Regulatory Accountants in the 19th century.

Rock On,

Aitch

Speaking of Annoying

In bed last night, at about 12:45, Josie started in about her job. Granted, she deals with a lot of nitwits and bureaucracy, but after the week we're having, it prolly wasn't the best time to start a dialogue about her list of grievances.

Good boyfriend that I am, I try to listen, but after about twenty minutes, my eyes start to close. In my haze, I hear this...

"...It's just so annoying. I mean, wait, are you listening to me?" Next thing I know, she's using her thumb and index finger to prop open my eyes. "Hellooo?!?"

"Yeah, I'm listening...you were saying something about someone who is annoying."

Rock On,

Aitch

Pre-Shredded Mozzarella Cheese

Josie and I had a couple of friends over for dinner last night.

You might be saying, "What's the big deal?"

But it is... I haven't had friends over to my place for dinner for at least ten years. One month livin' with Josie and that streak is over. Next thing ya know, I'll be in Bed, Bath and Beyond asking where the duvet section is.

ANYWAY, the next question should be, "OK Harris, I'll bite, why haven't you had anyone over for dinner in years?"

There are a few reasons -

• first of all, I dislike cooking - It's stupid - You buy stuff, prepare, cook for hours...all to be finished in twenty minutes (and no, I don't get a thrill out of the whole process)... AND, it's rarely as good as what you can get in a restaurant and costs about the same (partially cause you always have to buy one bottle of something that you'll never use again, until you make that dish).
• secondly, being the host means that I feel guilty if the evening isn't "fun." If we were to go to a restaurant, sure, I'm part of the expected entertainment, but I don't feel like it's my duty to make it fun.
• Thirdly, I have to clean my apartment. Okay, maybe that's a good thing.
• Fourth, I now have a wildcard - my dog. I have to keep an eye on him as he's not totally trained. Nothing sours a lovely dinner quicker than when someone notices a dog taking a crap on the rug during the cheese course.

Speaking of cheese, I wasn't off to a good start when Josie sent me to the store to buy "pre-shredded mozzarella cheese." To me, that means, "before it's shredded." Apparently, the rest of the universe sees it differently, as everyone I've told laughs when I tell them I came home with a block of cheese.

"You're a moron." Josie said, as I layed the hunk o' cheese on the table.

I must say though, we had a good time, nothing even outlandish to report. I did forget to give our guests the fancy mints I had bought (just as many fine restaurants give when you leave). In fact, we're having friends over again on Saturday. This time I'm not even going to keep a list of conversation topics nearby.

So assuming it goes well, my readers can send me their avails, and we'll get back to you when we can accomodate your party.

Rock On,

Aitch

I Wasn't Planning on Taking a Half-Day But...

this happened at lunch...

and yes, it was hot.

Rock On,

Aitch

Addendum

You know you're spending a lot of time (and money) at your dentist when your office moves locations and you get flowers from her, congratulating me on the move (as if I had anything to do with it).

Rock On,

Aitch

Trip to the Dentist

I've run out of dental insurance for the year (it's been a bad year for my teeth), so when I went in with a bad toothache, I told my dentist, "Just patch it up best ya can... we'll do something longer term in January, if need be."

Of course I knew need would be, but I still had some hope.

ANYWAY, she looked at the offending tooth, and proclaimed, "Wow, that's big," and then made the "tsk, tsk, tsk" sound.

I knew she meant the cavity, but I had to fight to keep from saying, "That's what she said."

And she kept saying it...and I had to keep fighting my urge to say it. When I started sweating, I swear, I don't know if it was cause of the drilling, or my battle my inclination to embarrass myself with a stupid joke.

btw - Instead of some form of Muzak, she plays "sounds of the forest" to relax her patients. Why would I find it soothing to have my teeth drilled while I think a jaguar may be bearing down on me? She brushed up against my leg, I thought I'd gotten bitten by a mongoose.

Rock On,

Aitch

Ninth in a Series...

For those of ya'll that don't know, I'm writing a series about my real-life adventures in stand-up comedy over at Really Small Talk.

Here's the latest installment...

Click Here!

Rock On,

Aitch

I Am Legend

So I went to the movies tonight with Josie... guess what we saw?

Anyway, y'all don't care about my movie review (nor should you) - I just wanna share a couple funny anecdotes while I was waiting in (on?) line for popcorn, pretzel bites and diet coke.

I heard the following conversation behind me by two well dressed, reasonably intelligent looking men.
"I think he's pro-life."
"Really? Is Bush pro-life?"
"Of course."
"Wow."
"The court and the court is getting more conservative. I dunno if abortion will be legal soon."
"Nah... even if The Supreme Court outlaws it, Congress will veto it."

Brilliant.

When the guy in front of me was paying for his stuff, I noticed a knit cap on the counter.
"Excuse me sir, but is that your hat?"
"Nah," he replied, "You can have it."

Thanks?

Rock On,

Aitch

An Open Letter to My Bathtub

Dear Bathtub,

I will clean you tomorrow.

Seriously.

No, this time I'm not joking.

I swear.

Stop laughing.

Rock On,

Aitch

The Knicks Season May Not Be a Total Loss

On Tuesday Isiah Thomas said, "To me, it's win or die."

Fine, I get the point. You're competitive. You haven't, and won't, give up.

But then he added "And I literally mean death."

Huh?

Either he doesn't know what the word "literally" means, or he's trying to add some gravitas to the Knicks' season.

Rock On,

Aitch

Murphy Knew What He Was Talking About

Everyone in my building walks their dog in the same area. Some people don't clean up after their dog.

Any time I check my shoes before coming back into my apartment, there's nothing there. Any time I don't check, fifteen minutes later, Josie and I will be on the couch and she'll ask, "Do you smell something?"

Rock On,

Aitch

We Won't Be Asked Again

Josie's brother (and sis-in-law) are having twins. They asked us if we had any ideas for names (They are Italian if that matters) -

She came up with Marco and Polo.

My idea was Michael and Fredo.

Rock On,

Aitch

A Few Jokes I've Learned I Shouldn't Make at The Dog Park

Your dog's fur would make a great carpet

Go for its neck, Stewie! No, the soft underbelly!

You paid how much?! Sweet Jesus, what a friekin' rip off!

Your dog's a Havanese? Really? I thought Havanese were cuter.

Wow, my pup's really beatin' the crap out of your dog, huh?

Where did you buy the leash for your rat?

Rock On,

Aitch

Normal Workday Behavior Exhibited By Football Players Which Would Be Frowned Upon at my Office Job

Screaming "I'm Number One!" - while making supporting hand gesture - and then chest bumping co-workers after performing a task successfully

Gratuitous Flexing

Demonstrably smacking fellow employees in rear to motivate them

Refusing to come to work unless owner renegotiates salary

Pouring Gatorade on my boss

Shouting expletives to competition - some which make reference to their mother - in effort to intimidate them

Chop Blocking

Rock On,

Aitch

There But For the Grace of Whatever....

As anyone who reads my blog knows, hanging with my girfriend's family, while fun, usually makes for a good blog post (or even a bit for my act), as you can plainly see here and here. Oh, and here.

I was fully expecting yesterday to be no different as we were going over to bake cookies (no, I'm not kidding).

I pictured dropping a tray of cookies that Josie's three-year-old niece had just made. Or maybe knocking over their Christmas tree while trying to put up the final ormament (as it turned out, they didn't have one up). Or at least sweating up a storm when her niece asks why I don't celebrate Christmas.

But none of those things happened.

I thought my Post For the Day would present itself when one hour into our visit, I had to use the restroom, and I didn't wanna use the one downstairs (IF ya know what I mean). I chose to wait as I really didn't wanna feel everyone looking at me when I walked back down the stairs.

It turned out to be the best move I've made since I decided to stop answering e-mails from wealthy Nigerians.

About a half-hour later, Josie's brother, disappeared upstairs. He came down about twenty minutes later with a sheepish grin.

"Ummm, where's the plunger?"
"Why?"
"The toilet's overflowed."

It turned out to be a really "good" overflow too, reaching the hallway. He came downstairs a few times with wet (ugh) towels to be put in the washing machine in the basement.

He may've thought I looked a little too happy that it happened, but not really. I was just happy, and quite frankly shocked, that it wasn't happening to me.

Rock On,

Aitch

That Was Easy

Waking up this morning, Josie turned to me and dripping with sarcasm, cooed, "Waking up next to you every morning is the best gift I can get."
I gazed into her eyes, smiled, and whispered, "Well...Merry Christmas." I turned over and fell back asleep.

Rock On,

Aitch

Man, Did I Go to the Wrong College!

The NY Times recently had an article on college sports stars who don't take many classes during the season. The writer mentioned Oregon Ducks QB, Dennis Dixon, for taking one class this semester: Billiards.

Aftwer checking out the University of Oregon's website, I see they also offer classes in juggling - yes, plural.

Out of curiosity, I checked out my girlfriend's alma mater to see what classes they offer -

Beer and Wine Appreciation

I guess they win.

Rock On,

Aitch

What's In A Name? (Everything)

Josie used to go with her friends to some trivia night at some bar in the East Village. She doesn't go anymore so all these team names I came up with for them are up for sale:

sorry about your daughter
sweep the leg
more cowbell
the fourth reich
void where prohibited
...and you will know us by the trail of pizza crust (you have to know the band)
it puts the lotion in the basket
drive by eggings
sweaty a little drunk and late
waffles and cocaine
pizza is a food group
dirty amish hookers
pour some trivia on me
it's the end of the world as we know it and i feel fat
rear naked choke
reunited and it feels so lame
the artist formerly known as sweep the leg
this time it's personal
better than cats
trivial matters
sisterhood of the travelling stilletto's
we go till eleven

Bidding starts at a nickel.

Rock On,

Aitch

Odds and Ends

There's nothing more depressing than running a football pool when you're mathematically eliminated halfway through the season. Okay, there may be something more depressing, but you get the idea.

On the subway coming to work, these guys gt on and sing a duet of Christmas carols. Once they start, this woman rolls her eyes and walks to the other side of the car.
Seeing this, a seated woman looks to her friend and say, "Like she's never seen that before. Why do people have to get all Susan Lucci all the time?"

The dude who sits in the cubicle in front of me is sniffling every seven or eight seconds. I asked him if he was sick.
"No," came his reply.
"Then stop sniffling!" *
Y'all may hear about an office shooting on the news tonight. Though I'm not sure who's gonna shoot who.

Rock On.

Aitch

* If he said "Yes," I woulda said, "Then go home."

Trivia

I'm not sure this is true but I gotta believe that NASCAR is the only sport where the higher priced seats are in the upper decks.

Though I thought it was because you have a lower chance of getting your head sliced off by a flyaway hubcap, it's actually because the lower seats can only see what's going on for three seconds out of every two minutes.

And that's one to grow on!

Rock On,

Aitch

I Do Live With Someone Now

It was so windy outside my apartment this morning that my dog refused to take a crap. He waited till he could do it in the wind-free kitchen.

My co-worker asked me if I berated him. I said, "No, I didn't see him do it. You can't get mad after...he wont know why you're getting mad....besides, how do I know he did it?"

Rock On,

Aitch

Mmmmm....Cheeeesssse...mmmmmm

Did you see this?

I just hope they get life, or the electric chair. There are tons of cheese sandwiches out there. I wouldn't take any chances.

Rock On,

Aitch

Our Reputations Preceed Us

When I told my mom that Josie and I are moving in together, she said, "Is this leading to something or is this going to be like the last one?" *

When Josie told her brother that we were moving in together he asked, "Are you pregnant?!?"

When she told her mom (via phone), Josie told me that the line went silent for a good (bad?) fifteen seconds. On the bright side, I hear when she moved on with her "last one" and told her mother, the line went dead for thirty seconds.

So maybe she does like me.

Rock On,

Aitch

* The "last one" and I lived together for two years and then split up.

Smoooooooovvvvvvveeeee

Little back story here - So Josie's moving to my place this Sunday and we're gonna lease out her place to my bud. The catch is, we're not telling her building mgt or they'd raise his rent. Got it? Begin scene...

Last night I was carrying boxes to Josie's apartment to help her pack. When I was opening the door to her lobby, there was this middle-aged guy standing there, staring at me, even after I got in. I nervously smiled.

"Do you live here?" he asked.
"Umm, no, my girlfriend does...Josie...apartment 2B," I started, and then redundantly added, "I'm, umm, her boyfriend."
"Oh, okay, I'm the super," he replied, and looking at the boxes added, "Is she moving?"
"Umm, no, you see, ummm, we're painting...

Okay, let's stop the scene right there - you may be wondering why I said, "We're painting." It's a valid question. The answer is... I'm an idiot. It made no sense. Why I would need boxes to paint is beyond me. But let's continue...

....," I started to say, but then realized that she may not be allowed to paint her place without prior approval or something. So I switched gears. "...my place. We're painting my place."

We gotta stop again. That made even less sense. Why the hell we'd be bringing boxes to her place in order to paint my place... I'm speechlesss just thinking about what an idiot I am. At any rate...

He looked at me like I just grew a third eyeball.

At this point, I'm not really sure what I said. I felt like I was on my Blind Date interview, where I was talking and yet had no idea what I was saying. So I can only paraphrase what I said next...

"You see, I don't have the keys to my place, so I'm dropping stuff here." While the super previously looked puzzled, he now looked at me like he suspected I was a member of Al Queda. Seeing this, I added, "It's a long story."

Thankfully, he didn't tell me that he had time. Instead we made some small talk about letting people in the building or something (again, I was completely flummoxed and everything is a blur) before I finally excused myself.

Can't wait for Sunday.

Rock On,

Aitch

Is that "Passive" Or Aggressive?"

Last night in bed, Josie told me that she doesn't think I listen to her when she wants to discuss work-related issues.

At least that's what she told me she said this morning, as I had fallen asleep mid-sentence.


Rock On,

Aitch

Another Screenplay Idea (Inspired By True Events)

Storyline like Big or Freaky Friday -

Two guys, one an accountant, the other works in a different job, something society deems crappy, like a janitor or someone who cleans bed pans in hospitals. Something happens where they switch bodies, and therefore jobs. After a few weeks, they have the opportunity to switch back to their old lives with their old jobs. The guy who became an accountant is happy to make the switch and go back to cleaning bed pans or whatever.

Here’s the twist: The guy who now cleans bed pans, refuses to turn back into an accountant, and runs away (memo to self: Does he run away with with sans bed pans?)

Rock On,

Aitch

Screenplay Idea (Inspired By True Events)

Romantic Comedy from guy’s perspective...

This guy works as lower-management drone.

“Cute meet” has something to do with guy stepping in vomit on subway. Maybe she gives him napkins to clean himself off. Or maybe she steps in it. Maybe they both step in it. I dunno yet... The important thing is that there's vomit involved.

That's all I've got so far....

Not sure who plays him, but see about Kate Beckinsdale for female character…

Rock On,

Aitch

Thank You, Stewie

As you read, my mom, bro and nephew came over on Thanksgiving to help develop my ulcer.

The day after, I was supposed to accompany Josie to meet like thirty or forty of her relatives, mainly on her mom's side.

Her mom is Mennonite, which isn't a life-form from the planet Mennon (I asked...what?!?) ...no, it's a religion, I think...an off-shoot of Amish (Is that a religion? Y'all can google it if you care that much).

ANYWAY, every year they spend a few daze around Thanksgiving here.

My friends couldn't wait to hear how that went.

Alas, as you know, my pup, Stewie became ill earlier in the week. He got iller and iller (and not in the cool, Beastie Boys kinda way) until I couldn't take him with us, and didn't feel right leaving him with someone.

So I stayed home.

Fast forward to yesterday -All his tests came back negative and thankfully, he's better now.

It's as if he didn't want me to go, or maybe it was the few drops of ammonia that I accidently left near his water dish.

Rock On,

Aitch

A Disappointing Birthday

So yesterday was my birthday.

Josie gave me her gift in the mornin'.

An iPod Shuffle.

That sucks!

How the hell am I gonna make fun of that gift?!? *

Rock On,

Aitch

* For those of you who don't know me (or my act), I joke about getting an air purifier as a birthday gift...also, I got a watch a year ago from my last girlfriend. That wouldn't be so bad except for the fact that it was the same watch that I already owned.

You Can't Make This Stuff Up

Saturday night I had a guest spot on a "bringer show" at Gotham Comedy Club. If ya don't know what a bringer show is (and care to find out), read this part of a series I'm writing at reallysmalltalk.com about stand-up comedy...

Bringer shows are....

ANYWAY, most bringer shows (and bringer comics) are, in a word, boring. That's cause most comics at that level aren't that good, or that bad. But Saturday night's show featured something that made me sit up and take notice.

This young comic started talking about how some people's favorite episode of All on the Family was the one in which Edith got raped (I'm not sure that's even true but that's neither here nor there). He proceeded to do a two-minute impression of her getting raped, one which ended with her liking it, and deciding she's a nympho.

Trust me when I say it was worse in person.

What really annoyed me though was how shoddy his research (or memory) was - she wasn't raped - she fought him off.

It's that kinda poor attention to detail that keeps potential customers from going to comedy clubs.

Rock On,

Aitch

Don't Leave Home Without It, Indeed

So after having a difficult morning yesterday with Josie (No, I don't wanna talk about it), I took the wrong keys with me to work.

Ouch.

Of course I didn't realize it until I was entering my building. Normally, that wouldn't be such a big deal as I could either go to Josie and get her keys or, if she's to be home soon, just wait for her. The problem was that she was going to visit her family for the night.

Double ouch.

After asking if the management office was open (they have a master key) - they weren't - I panic-called Josie, the only other person with a key, only to find out she was already on the bus to Pennsylania.

Swell.

With no other option, I was about to call a locksmith to break in to my own apartment. There goes another 200 bucks. That's what I paid not three months ago when I locked myself out. I know, I'm an idiot.

Before I called, I thought I'd try picking the lock. Of course I tried that the last time to no avail, but I figured it couldn't hurt.

I pulled out my American Express card, slid it in, tried the door. Nothing. Tried to slide it up and down, kept trying the door when...

Voila!

It opened.

Good to know that if this whole lil comedy thing doesn't work out, I can search for work as a low-level thief.

Rock On,

Aitch

Happy Thanksgiving

Before my mom, brother and nephew came over yesterday, I was on the phone with mom...

Mom: You okay? You don't sound good
Me: Stewie's sick
Mom: Uh oh...what's the matter?
Me: He's vomitting and he had diarrhea
Mom: Oh boy...do you think Mike (my nephew) should still come?
Me: You're kiddin', right?

Stewie's my dog. *


Everything went well, though I can't have Thanksgiving without thinking of a favorite Homer Simpson quote (and I'm paraphrasing) -

"That was the best Thanksgiving ever! I mean, emotionally it was horrible, but the turkey was soooo moist!"

Rock On,

Aitch

* Of course, if Mike comes down with a case of worms, I'm in big trouble.

You Have Got to be Kiddin' Me

Latke and Ham flavored soda?

Gross!

Rock On,

Aitch

My "Surprise" Birthday Party....and Monk

I'm a huge fan of the TV show Monk. So much so, that much like Monk, I assume everyone I meet has either killed, or is plotting to kill, their wife. And I like to pretend I have OCD, but that's neither here nor there...

Several weeks ago, I was peeking over Josie's shoulder when she was checking her e-mail, and noticed one that suggested she may've been plotting to throw me a surprise birthday party. The heading of the e-mail stated...

HARRIS'S SURPRISE BIRTHDAY PARTY - SHHHH!!!!

But, much like an episode of Monk, where we often see the murder (and the murderer) in the opening scene but not how Monk was gonna catch him/her, I knew there was a party but had no idea how it was gonna go down.

And then I found that out too.

When my friend Vic told me that he and my bro (Rich) were gonna take me out for my birthday on Nov 24th (day before my actual birthday), and to bring Josie too, I knew. That was it. Of course, I had to make it difficult, telling them that I was busy that day and wouldn't be able to go out. After Josie told me not to be a jerk, I agreed to be a good sport and just go along with it. Even if my surprise was spoiled, at least I'll let them think they got me.

Josie wanted to take me out, just us, for my birthday too, so last Thursday night we went to Sparks Steakhouse.

Getting off the subway in Grand Central, I happened to see my friend Deeanna ahead of me. I thought about saying "Hi" but after thinking about what a coincidence it was, seeing her there, I realized that I'd been had... the surprise party was that night. So not to spoil the surprise for everyone else, I ignored her, and when she ducked into a bank, I ran ahead.

After texting with Josie, and seeing the four-person deep bar situation, I decided to wait for her outside the restaurant. Of course, who walks up but Deeanna. She claims that she's there for a reconciliatory dinner with a friend with whom she'd been fighting with recently. I don't let on that I know what's up, so after a few words, she just goes in to meet her "friend."

That Josie! She thought she could get me, but nope, like most criminal masterminds, some slight miscalculation always gives them away.

When Josie arrived, I let her know that I saw Deeanna. Her surprise was so real, that for a second, I believed that I was wrong... that Deeanna was there to meet a friend and I am just having dinner with Josie. But still...no way....And then the host sat us... at a table for two.

Huh?

I walked to the table, half-(maybe "all") expecting the host to lead us to a larger table with all my friends there. And then we got to our table. It was for two. Hmmm...I spose even Monk's wrong once in a while.

I was about to tell Josie what my silly mind had concocted, when she got up to go the bathroom. I had also noticed that she had a bit of a wild-eyed look about her. Okay, I get it... she's gonna come back, with friends in tow, and we're all gonna sit at a bigger table.

Then she came back. Solo.

Huh?

"You wanna hear something funny?" I asked her.
"What?"
"I actually thought...." I started, but the host came over.
"Excuse me, but we have a better table for you."

Though I kinda liked our table, I guessed that's why Josie had gotten up - she thought I should have a better table for my birthday dinner. He led us to the back room, where I saw Rich, Vic, Deeanna, Jill, Jill (not a typo...there were two Jill's), Rob, Jenn, Doug, Kari and Ed waiting for me to sing Happy Birthday.

Got me.

One thing I noticed... Deeanna's boyfriend wasn't there. Knowing they've had some rocky times, I couldn't help but wonder if she'd killed him.

Hmmmmm....

Rock On,

Aitch

p.s. Thanks Josie for putting it together and my buds for coming

The Day's Not Over Yet But....

So I decided to rededicate myself to writing my novel today.

So far, I've written -37 words. You read that right...

negative thirty-seven

I've erased stuff but haven't written anything new.

ack

rock on,

aitch

Really Stupid Small Talk

Josie and I went to my friend's kid's bar-mitsvah yesterday. After the service, (which I think may still be going on) they had a reception in a tent outside the temple.

I've never been good at small talk. I really don't care about how your kids know the bar-mitsvah boy nor how wonderful it is that everyone in your affluent suburban neighborhood get along so well.

And it's not cause I'm narcissitic either. I don't wanna discuss Regulatory Accounting or my life a stand-up comic. (Interestingly, since I started doing stand-up, I think I've actually gotten worse. Why? I think it's because I feel more pressure to be funny.)

During a moment to ourselves, Josie told me she's not good at small talk either (though she later admitted she lied, just to make me feel better about being a loser).

ANYWAY, we decided to practice on each other. This worked out as well as anyone who knows us would predict...

Me: Sooo, ummm, how do you know the bar-mitsvah boy?
Josie: We dated.
Me: Huh?
Josie: Briefly...he broke it off...I was devastated.
Me: C'mon! Be serious!
Josie: Fine...so how do you know the bar-mitsvah boy?
Me: We're in the same math class.

Man, I can't wait for the next bar-mitsvah.

Rock On,

Aitch

Grey's Anatomy

I never saw Grey's Anatomy 'til this season (Josie's a big fan), so maybe I'm off here but as far as I can tell, one out of every four or so surgeries end up with the patient dying or in a coma.

I think it may have something to do with the doctors' predilection toward talking about their personal lives in the OR.

For those of you who say that silence during surgery would be boring, I say, tell that to the relatives of those who died.

Yes...

Tell it to the relatives.

Rock On,

Aitch

Potential Blog Names For Cast of The Karate Kid

Sweep Your Own Leg, I'm Blogging!

Wax On - My Thoughts, Hopes, and Fears

Get Me a Body Bag! My So-Called Blog

In All Okinaya, All Miyagi Know Two Things: Karate and Blog

Blog First! Blog Hard! No Mercy Sir!

Look Blog... Always Look Blog!

Rock On,

Aitch

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

I was just watching this re-run of Everybody Loves Raymond. It was the one where Ray did something stupid...his wife got angry at him...his parents took his side...his brother was happy that Ray did something dumb...but at the 20-minute mark, Ray fixed things and all ended well.

Remember that one?

Rock On,

Aitch

Interview much?

I was watching The Today Show this morning. They ask questions every day in a "Getting to Know the Hosts" segment (or something like that...I dont really give a crap why they do it).

The question to the Asian newswoman (I don't know her name, but I assume if you watch, you know her) was "Why did you get into news?"

Her response was, "Because knowledge is power, and I want to give people as much power as possible."

I'm not sure what would be worse...whether that was her off-the-cuff response, or if that was actually her rehearsed answer.

Either way, I'd like to think that America collectively rolled its eyes.

But I know better.

Rock On,

Aitch

Gotham Comedy Club

Last night I did a ten minute set at Gotham... followed a guy who did five minutes about peeing on his girlfriend.

Sometimes, if a crowd really likes what the previous comic was talking about, I'll add anything I have on that topic to my set.

It's a good thing the crowd didn't like him...I have no "peeing on girlfriend" jokes.

Rock On,

Aitch

The Off-Broadway Experience

I'm not a fan of Broadway plays. For the most part, they are overpriced, overhyped and underwhelming. I didn't even think Phantom was all that.

I like Off-Broadway plays...at least I like the idea of Off-Broadway plays - strugging artists, working at their craft, not worrying about appealing to families from Kansas City, Missouri... but I rarely go? Why? I dunno...I just don't.

ANYWAY, Josie's friend's friend's boyfriend (I think that's right) is in a limited engagement play in a theater on St. Marks Place (It may be called The St. Marks Theater even, but I forget) so we went last night.

Technically, the theater is under St. Marks, as it's in a basement, which I thought was cool...part of the experience. The building itself looked pre-war...that's pre-Civil War.

Inside, the heat was on, and when I say "on," I mean "blasting." Though the play was decent, I found myself nodding off due to the warmth in the theater. I woke up each time when I shifted in my seat, which were those squeaky aluminum folding chairs. I tried to keep my squirming to a minimum as well due to the aforementioned squeaking.

Halfway through the play, the heat pipes started to loudly rattle. The actors didn't skip a beat, probably either having worked through it before or havng been warned of such a possibility. The audience just leaned in a bit closer to the stage to listen better (as if being three inches closer would help).

Afterwards, discussing the show, Josie said she got a panic attack when the pipes went on, fearing that the ceiling was about to cave in.

See?

That's exactly the kind of visceral experience you just don't get at Broadway shows.

Rock On,

Aitch

I'm Directing My Anger Better...

Did a show last night for fifteen people. Nine of them went to a funeral the day before. A crowd like that could either wanna laugh to release the tension of the past few days, or not be in the mood to laugh. They weren't in the mood to laugh (they were at the show because one of the comics on the bill is related to the mourners).

If I'd done this show when I was new, I woulda went home and wanted to shoot myself. Nowadays, since I know that my material is funny, I wanted to shoot them.

Now, that's what I call progress!

Rock on,

Aitch

From My "Draft" Folder...

I wrote these jokes just after my last girlfriend dumped me. I think they're winners...

Why did the girlfriend cross the road?

To dump her boyfriend

So this guy and his girlfriend walk into a bar...they order a beer and the girl dumps him

You wanna know the difference between men and women? Women suck...how's that for a difference?

Rock On,

Aitch

Another Tale from the Front

So my boss was explaining to Mike (guy who sits next to me) something about "comparing those numbers are like comparing apples to oranges."

I interjected, "Why do we use 'apples and oranges' as a simile for opposites? I mean, they're both round, both fruits, both grow on trees...shouldn't it be more like 'apples and carburators?'"

About an hour later, Temp Boy, out of nowhere turned to me and said, "One is hard and one is soft."

"What?"

"Apples and oranges. You were saying how they are same, but I have difference for you."

I turned to Mike whose face was already red from laughing.

Why me?

Rock On,

Aitch

I Also Require Ring Dings at Exactly 3PM

So yesterday I told Temp Boy (his new nickname) that the new guy must bring me coffee every morning.

After walking in this mornin', he asked me if I take sugar or milk in it.

Rock On,

Aitch

I Haven't Talked to Him Since

We hired a temp to do some filing. Upon hearing that he was Russian, I asked him if he was rooting for Ivan Drago.

He looked at me like I had two heads, and then with a thick accent asked, "Drago?"

Nevermind

Rock On,

Aitch

I Have to Stop Thinking

I live in the same building as the owner of one of NY's best comedy clubs. I've seen him a few times, always when one of us is getting into the elevator while the other is leaving. Naturally, I'm never prepared to meet him, so I end up saying something like "Hey XXXX, how's it goin'?" though I guess what am I supposed to say?

The other day was one of those times, and then I saw him at the club later when I was MC'ing a show. I had no reason to walk up to him during the show so I figured I'd just hang out and watch the comics and if I saw him after, I'd say, "Hey XXXX, we're gonna start seein' each other in our dreams!" and we'd share a hearty laugh.

As the show progressed I stopped watching the comics and started practicing what I was gonna say...

"Hey XXXX, we're gonna start seein' each other in our dreams!"

...over and over again.

Then I thought he might think that's a weird thing to say.

He may respond, "No offense Harris, but I don't think I'll be thinking of you in my dreams."

Then, I'll have to come back with, "No, of course not...I meant that I would dream of you in my sleep...not that I do...dream of you, or anything like that.... I mean, I do think of you sometimes at home...ummm, by 'think' I mean in a professional manner, you know, you as the owner of the club and, umm, yeah..."

I ended up walking past him, saying, "Hey XXXX, how's it goin'?"

Rock On,

Aitch

You're Joking, Right?

Josie's in a book club. The book they're reading this month is US Weekly.

I'm not sure what's more bizarre - that they consider that a suitable selection, or that it takes them a month to read US Weekly.

What's next month? One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish?

I'm beginning to wonder if there are two Columbia University's.

Rock On,

Aitch

It Always Feels Like Somebody's Watching Me

Went to dinner last night at Josie's parents' house. Nothing fascinating to report, other than when her mom asked if I had tried the brussel sprouts, her dad said, "Yes, in fact he took seconds!"

Huh?

Rock On,

Aitch

P.S. Remember when I first met them for dinner?

If you don't...

Well, I thought I got out of the whole "saying grace" thingy but then The Niece says she wants to say grace after we were finished eating.

Ugh...

I went with "I'm thankful I'm not sweating."

Rock On (again),

Aitch

Word to the Wise

Comics who've been on "Live at Gotham" get rather touchy when asked whether they edit in additional laughter.

Trust me.

Rock On,

Aitch

Reports of my Demise MAY be Greatly Exaggerated

So I had my annual physical yesterday (annual means "I go when something hurts," right?). I'm not sure if my doc is squeamish, apathetic, stupid, or if he just doesn't care.

He asked me if I'm having safe sex - I sheepishly responded, "Well, I'm umm, sorta having unprotected sex with my girlfriend." (Note: She is on pill)
"Just her though, right?"
"Yeah?"
"That's okay, then."

Huh?

I hope he doesn't give lectures to sex-ed classes....

Doc - "The fact is class, as long as you're monogamous with your partner, you can have all the unprotected sex you want!"
Student - "But isn't it possible that you unknowingly may have something or maybe your partner has some STD?"
Doc - "Well, you've had unprotected sex, right?
Student - "Right."
Doc - "And you're clean, right?"
Student - "Right."
Doc - "There ya go."
Student - "There what goes?"
Doc - "Any more questions?"

While he's giving me the exam, I kept waiting for the "doctor reach around" (you know what I mean) - but he never went for it. My prostate could be equivalent to an angry grapefruit, ready to burst with toxic flavor and he'll never know.

Also, memo to self: Shave chest hair before getting EKG - not only did Nurse Ratchet have to keep pressing the thingys into my chest to get a reading, but taking them off felt like I was getting shot nine times. I know how Fiddy felt.

I wonder if he cried too?

Rock On,

Aitch

Aitch sez...

Former boxer Roberto Duran's nickname was "Hands of Stone."

Good thing he discovered boxing as he failed at his first job as a massage therapist.

Rock On,

Aitch

"She Obviously Doesn't Know Me"

After my last show, my mom told me that Josie's a "sweet little girl."

This was after Josie and my mom had these conversations over the past couple of weeks -

mom: are you going to the dog park show?
josie: um, no i don't think so...
mom: why not? what kind of supporter are you?
josie: something partially inaudible but i think along the lines of "a half-assed one" (delivered of course in deadpan fashion then followed by a smirk)
mom:[blank stare]
josie: just kidding...

and

Mom was talking about her friend's cat who wouldn't leave her alone, Josie made the point that cats have a weird way of sensing cat-dislikers and following them around...

mom: so, do you think the cat was trying to get me to like him?
josie: [shrug]
mom: well, what was i gonna do, have s*x with him? do you think he wanted me to have sex with him?
josie: well, if that's what it takes...
mom: [blank stare]

Rock On,

Aitch

Aitch sez...

The best way to find out if your girlfriend is high-maintenance emotionally is to say "Yes" when she asks you if she is high-maintenance emotionally.

Rock On,

Aitch

Dinner with the Goose-Stepping Niece

So last weekend Josie's parents, bro, sis-in-law and niece ventured into the city for dinner to celebrate her bro and sis-in-law's birthday.

We got them a serving dish, purchased at Crate and Barrel, just 'round the time that Kentucky was busy stunning LSU in college football, but I digress....(stop rolling your eyes!)

They came in early so we all could walk through Food Emporium (a supermarket) together.

Huh? Why would the seven of you make the effort to walk through a Food Emporium?

You see, Josie's bro, Joel, works as an architect (or is it an engineer?) - and his firm recently remodeled that supermarket.

ANYWAY, the seven of us ambled though, checking out the walls, ceilings and display cases as if we were walking though The Sistine Chapel. The employees must've thought we were tourists that got lost.

Naturally, as we walked from aisle to aisle, I felt the need to make several comments - Actually, their father also made comments. Let's see if you can guess who made which comments...(keep in mind, their father speaks with an Italian accent) -

1 - You did good job...vedy nice.
2 - Are those bananas over there, or is that display case just happy to see me?
3 - This tile ...is vedy nice.
4 - Since ya pretty much saved their business, ya think I can take a peach?
5 -
6 - Look...they give you the nutritional info for the popcorn, popped...and unpopped. Who the heck is eating unpopped popcorn?!? I mean, I'm lazy, but I'm not THAT lazy! Thank you...try the veal!!

While leaving, Josie and her niece were walking hand in hand. I couldn't help but notice that The Niece was walking in an exaggerated manner with her legs stiff. That's right, she was goose-stepping like a midget Luftwaffe officer! I woulda loved to see what would've happened had she asked Josie to join her in her Ode to The Third Reich.

On the way to the restaurant, we were stopped on a street corner due to an ambulance whizzing by, siren blaring. I thought that woulda been a great time to explain "death" to The Niece, but Josie disagreed. The look on her face suggested that she's worried about my parenting skillz. Whatever...

We ate at Cara Mia. Thought I'd ingratiate myself with The Fam by ordering Priest Stranglers. No, I'm not kidding. Never hard of it, but it's the name of a type of pasta. I chose those over the Rabbi Bludgeoners and the Minister Strike with a Lead Pipers.

The service was a bit slow and when dishes started piling up at one end of our table, her father started handing me dishes. Not realizing he wanted me to just put them on end of table (he didn't say anything), I just stared at him with a confused look while holding plates. In fact, when Josie spoke to her mom on phone, her mom asked why I looked "confused." She also mentioned that Joel wants to get a few drinks in me so they can find out the "real" me.

I'll have to take one of those pills that Batman (or was it Austin Powers) took to avoid feeling the effects of alcohol.

Rock On,

Aitch

A Prisoner in my Own Building

A few Saturday's ago, after taking Stewie to the dog run, I brought him back and went out to get coffee. On my way out of the building, I asked the doorman if he wanted anything at the deli.
"Yes, coffee."
I stopped, and asked, "Anything in it?"
"Milk and sugar...thanks."

Though I didn't think he was gonna actually say "Yes," I didn't consider it a big deal. I didn't even think it was big deal when he didn't even offer to reimburse me when I got back. I mean, I woulda offered to pay but hey, I'm not everybody (which is good since then, EVERYONE would be awesome).
The next morning...same thing. I asked the doorman, and he said, "Yeah, coffee." And once again, though he thanked me, didn't offer any money.

Now, I ain't one of those rich Upper West Side types - the next benefit I do may be for myself. I figured if I kept getting him coffee every weekend morning, that would be over a hundred bucks a year...and that just ain't happenin'...so I've started to leave my building through the side entrance, avoiding the doorman.

It's that or pretending I'm reading a newspaper as I leave as I am NOT having this conversation 'round the holidays...

"Ummm, yeah, you must be wonderin' why I gave the other doormen 40 bucks each but nothing for you. No, you were great. Seriously, I barely had to touch a door. Well, there was that one time when you were giving directions to that Mexican kid delivering food to the wrong building but that was no big deal. What? Oh, that was in April. Yeah, I know, I do have a good memory...but again, that's not why I didn't give you any bonus. No, I swear. Why? It's because of the coffees I got every weekend for you...I mean it adds up, ya know? It's like a buck and a quarter every coffee...I know, you didn't ask for large but I thought you'd think I'm cheap if I got you small since you didn't specify. So it was a buck and a quarter times two, the weekend, times fifty two...every weekend. No, it's more than a hundred ten, it's more like a hundred thirty bucks. No, it is, I know cause I umm, did the math. See? Here...I have the tape from my adding machine. Really? You'd rather have the cash than the coffee? Okay, well, now I know for next year. And in the meantime, pretend I didn't give you a bonus cause of that incident with the Mexican kid...cause that was fucked up."
Rock On,

Aitch

Comics for Canines: UNLEASHED (Summary)

Quite frankly, I was rather nervous all day. Not only was I gonna do dog-run specific material I had written for the show, but I think having 100 people in the audience that I know is a little scarier than performing for perfect (or imperfect) strangers. Not only that but I had several of my comic friends on the bill, and no one wants to bomb in front of their buds.

And then at 4:30 PM, one of my headliners cancelled, which is probably a producer's worst nightmare (other than getting hit by a car on the way to the show). After talking to a few comic friends, I decided to give the comics booked a few extra minutes (and thankfully, I really had three headline quality comedians).

So I was onstage, launching into my dog run material...and I forgot it. Seriously...after one of my jokes, I totally forgot what came next (besides sweat). Thankfully, I had the wherewithall to (seamlessly?) launch into my normal MC fake crowd work material ("Any college students here? Well, I went to Queens College...Any birthdays? Well, I just had a birthday...")

Anyway, I did well, even with the beads of sweat pouring down my face. To be honest, it woulda been difficult for me NOT to do well, as everyone there was there to see me (and support our dog run). I prolly coulda taken a crap onstage and got applause.

The real stars of the show were the comics who followed: Joe DeVito, Jill, Twiss, Doug Adler, Robin Fox (who I pulled off the street), Josh Homer, Mick DiFlo, Bernadette Pauly and Jim Mendrinos (who did 25 minutes through the check spot).

Seriously, every one of 'em did well, some (Joe, Josh, Robin and Bernie) killed.

I can't thank you guys enough (actually, that is prolly enough right there) for doing the show - I got tons of "thank you's" from the dog run people - EVERYONE had a great time and they're already looking forward to next year's show.

My next benefit show will prolly be in January. The beneficiary and location will be announced shortly.

Aitch

p.s. thanks to Al Wagner for hangin' too.

Whipped (Already?)

On Saturday, I missed most of the LSU-Kentucky game cause I was walking the aisles at Williams-Sonoma and Crate and Barrel looking for the perfect serving dish for Josie's brother and sis-in-law.

Talk about a Walk of Shame.

btw - I think just to screw up my future kid's life, I'm gonna name him Miles - but I'm not gonna spell it that way, and not "Myles" either. No, I'm gonna spell it Maisles. He'll have to tell everyone "No, it is Maisles but it's spelled with an M, than then aisles...no, not like the Emerald Isles... aisles like supermarket aisles." (Pause) "You're right, my parents are dicks."

Rock On,

Aitch

A Different Kind of Audition

Josie has moved in for October. Well, she's moved in for two daze, then she's off to Ireland for a week, and then back here for the rest of October. So far we're doing good...well, there was this "thing" that occurred last night. She woke me up sometime around 3 AM....

"What did you put on my waist?"

"Huh?" I asked, groggy, yet curious where she was going with this. I assumed that she was playin' some game.

"I said, 'What did you put on my waist?'" She answered, tinged with anger.

"I didn't, I didn't, umm, put anything on your waist." She then turned over and went back to sleep.

I went back to sleep too... after I put a knife under my pillow.

She didn't remember it when we woke up.

This could get interesting.

Rock On,

Aitch

The Garden of Eatin'

I'm not religious at all. In fact, I'm currently thinking about naming my first child Christian....Christian Bloom has a certain ring to it. And the look on my mom's face alone may be worth it.

But I do fast on Yom Kippur. Why I fast, isn't important. What is important, for this story anyway, is that I accompanied Josie and her family (non, dad, bro, bro's wife, niece) for a day of apple-picking on this particular Yom Kippur.

Josie asked me if I thought it would be a problem, picking apples while unable to eat them.
"Unless we're picking candy apples, I'll be fine," I responded.

And I was... there's no way Eve woulda been able to tempt me with an apple. She woulda had to drape it in caramel.

I was fine throughout our apple-picking adventure, in fact, being active kept my mind off food (even if I was picking food off trees). It was after we were finished that I realized my stomach was growling. Apparently, even those who had breakfast were hungry as they decided to stop at a local cafe for lunch.

"But I'm fasting today, and can't eat," I pleaded.
"Well, that's not our problem!" The Christians said at once. And then they laughed like jackals (assuming jackals have deep and hearty laughs).

Okay, maybe I didn't say that and they didn't laugh but that's how it felt.

So there I was, at a table for ten (her bro's friend, friend's wife, and their child had joined us). I sat next to Josie and across from her brother. He ordered a cheeseburger. She felt bad for me so she simply ordered a steak salad with gorgonzola cheese. Notice how not only did they order delicious, mouth-watering lunches, but they were both not kosher. Though I dont keep kosher, they were obviously sending a message. My head was getting a bit foggy but I knew that this was no accident.

During lunch, Josie's anti-Semitic three year old niece climbed onto Josie's lap. Then she kicked me. Josie claims that her niece was just being cranky and it was an accident but I know better. And I'm sure her niece does too.

On the drive back, I was extraordinarily tired and tried to keep from falling asleep in the back of her parent's car. Couldn't do it as Josie later informed me that I was sleeping with my mouth wide open. At least no one else saw me...well, except for her bro and everyone in his car as he mentioned that when they passed us, he saw me passed out, mouth agape. At least I didn't snore. At least I don't think I did.

When we got back, her dad started eating a banana. Unable to contain my outrage any longer, I had to speak up.

"We just got back from lunch and you're eating a banana?!? Are you doing this just t torture me?!?"

He said something about still being hungry, but I know better. And I'm sure he does too.


Rock On,

Aitch

Comics for Canines: UNLEASHED!

Quick e-mail since I've got a nasty hangover from New Year's celebrations. Like every year, I went to Times Square to watch the matzoh ball drop and got drunk on Manoshevitz...took nine bottles.

ANYWAY...Yours truly is producing a show at the Broadway Comedy Club on October 18th at 8:30. It is a benefit show for my dog run (no, I'm not kidding). The run is umm, run, solely on donations and it's tough getting people to pony up since, well, the Upper West Side is kinda a poor neighborhood. So here goes nutin'....

COMEDY FOR CANINES UNLEASHED!
October 18th 8:30 PM
at The Broadway Comedy Club
318 W 53rd STreet
tix are $25 (12 for you guys) and two drink min

MC - Harris Bloom
Jim Mendrinos (author "The Complete Idiot's Guide to Comedy Writing")
Bernadette Pauley (Animal Planet, TLC's Trading Spaces)
Joe DeVito (Comedy Central's Live at Gotham)
Jill Twiss (NY Finalist on Last Comic Standing)
Josh Homer (NY Underground Comedy Festival)
Mick DiFlo (Ummm, has tattoo's)
Doug Adler (Jew)

Hope some of y'all can make it. If it goes well, I may be doing more benefit shows in the future.

Rock On,

Aitch

Recurring Nightmares...

1. I'm onstage....

Me - ...So this guy from the UHO gets on the subway and he gives a speech about looking for donations and then he walks up and down the car Ummm...wait, he says or does something before he walks down the subway car...lessee, he gets on...
Audience Member - He gives his speech!
Me - I said that part...there's something else....
Audience Member - He tells a joke!
Me - Very funny...no wait, he gets on...he gives his speech...I swear, for the life of me...oh wait, he tells us that he's got food and drinks if anyone's hungry or thirsty...oh yeah, that's it...lemmee start again

2.

Me - ....and then the talent agent said, "The Aristocrats!"
Audience Member - That's not funny
Me - You're not funny
Audience Member - I"m not the one trying to be a comedian
Me - Neither am I
Audience Member - What? That's just stupid
Me - You're stupid

Rock On,

Aitch

My Girfriend's Three-Year-Old Niece is an Anti-Semite

So Josie and I took the train into Jersey Friday night to celebrate her birthday with her family. The occasion also marked the first time I was meeting her family.

It was warm and muggy out, and on the way over, Josie made some remark about them not having central air. No biggie, I thought, I assumed they would have the wall units cranking. Um, no. Her dad told us that they didn't think they'd need a/c anymore so they removed them from the windows. I think that was when I started sweating.

She also told me that at dinner, not only would we go around the table to explain what we're thankful for, but we'd all join hands while doing it. I'm not sure if this was a Catholic (her dad) or Mennonite (her mom) thing, but when in Ridgewood...
So five minutes after meeting him, I was sweating at the dinner table (in the kitchen) while holding hands with Josie's dad.

Here are a few things I thought about saying that I'm thankful for but decided against it...

1 - Josie's delicious body.
2 - soap
3 - air conditioning
4 - the morning after pill
5 - the fact that my family doesn't do this before every meal

But no, I ended up saying something boring. Whatever.

Though I didn't look, I'm pretty certain that after he let my hand go, Josie's dad wiped his hand on his pants.

BTW - he told me to call him "Chuck." I told him to call me "Peppermint Harris."

Though saying grace under pressure was over, the sweating wasn't. Throughout dinner, I waited till most of the party were looking elsewhere so I could use the napkin to wipe my forehead. Since the napkin was paper, and I was sweating bullets, I was afraid that part of the napkin would end up on my forehead so after wiping with my napkin, I wiped with my bare hand. Josie felt for me as she kept looking over with a sad look on her face.

Her three year old niece (Gianna) was also having a tough time. Theories ranged from the party being about Josie and not her, Josie bringing a new friend over, or just a phase she's been going through. I thought it was because she hates Jews. Here's why...

During one of Gianna's tantrums (this one about it not being her birthday party) Josie explained that though her next birthday wasn't till April, she would get presents in December and asked her if she knew why. For some reason, I felt the need to pipe in...

"Chanukah?"

The whole table fell silent. Soon thereafter, Gianna proclaimed, "I don't like this party!" while staring straight at me.

I rest my case.

Rock On,

Aitch

TMI

I want to buy some new polo shirts, so I asked a co-worker, who was wearing one I liked where he got it, he said, "My grandfather."
"Oh."
"Yeah, when he died I got a bunch of them."
I blinked twice and changed the subject.

Rock On,

Aitch

Two Guys Followed Me Home

So Josie is summering with her folks in Delaware for two weeks (Ed note: She doesn't use the term "summering"). When I told Vic she was going away with her family for two weeks he went, "Ich."

"I know," I replied, "But I guess some people like hangin' with their family."

ANYWAY, I miss her. So much so that I decided to shave "I miss you" into my chest hair and send her a pic via cell phone. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Didn't seem like such a good idea at the gym when I had to change in the locker room.

Rock On,

Aitch

My Worst Nightmare

I don't think I'm breaking new ground here by saying that guys don't really like talking about their feelings. 63% of all male/female arguments include a woman saying at some point, "Well, I wanna talk about it!" and a guy saying, "I don't want to!"

That's a fact. You can look it up.

Though I like to consider myself different than most guys, I am similar in that way. I like to deal with things that bother me by rolling it up into an imaginary ball and swallowing it (Memo to self: Get new Zantac prescription).

Now I'm dating a therapist, aka My Worst Nightmare (isn't that a cute pet name?)

The other day she asked how my writing's going. I answered I've been having a hard time for some reason.
"Would you like to explore that?"
I'm surprised she didn't ask me to lie on the sofa.

It gets worse......

We were lying on bed last week when Stewie jumped on and dropped the ball by her head. When she threw it, I said that she shouldn't have, because he was gonna keep bringing it to us now.
"I think you need to better manage your expectations."
"It's not me, it's Stewie!"
"Well, maybe you should better manage his expectations."
"I should manage my dog's expectations."
"That's right."
Silence.

Maybe talking stuff out and managing expectations will be a good thing. Perhaps Zantac will even become a thing of the past...After all, it can't be good for Stewie.

Note - When she says these things, it's with an ironic self-aware tone - in other words, she's kiddin'...sorta...i think...but maybe not.

Rock On,

Aitch

The Sickest Gift Ever?

As anyone who knows me, or has seen my act, knows, I don't always get the greatest gifts.

My last girlfriend was awesome at disappointing in the gift category (I was awesome at disappointing in every other way). Here are my favorite Christmas/Birthday gifts she gave me...

two air purifiers (is that a gift? Or a hint?)
sushi plates and chopsticks (that would be like me buying her a football phone)
a watch...Now, you wouldn't think a watch would be a bad gift, except for one thing... she got me the same watch I already owned. Why would she do such a thing? The window on my watch had broken and it had stopped. She thought it was a goner. $30 later, I had two of the same watch. (btw - anyone wanna buy a watch?)

I'd almost prefer she just did what my mom still does...gimme a card with 20 bucks in it.

ANYWAY, now that I got me a new chick, I have high hopes once again... a lot like how I'm sure Wile E. Coyote has high hopes every week of catching the road runner.

Josie went to Vermont last weekend, and promised to bring me back "the sickest gift ever."

Cool!

Talking to her, she reiterated how "ridiculous" (in a good way) it was.

Awesome!

Upon returning, the first time I saw her, she forgot it... no biggie, but I was getting more and more curious what gift she could possibly find in Vermont that would be worthy of the "the sickest most ridiculous" gift ever.

I assumed it would be something syrup or Ben and Jerry's related. I would've also been thrilled with Ralph Macchio's headband from the first Karate Kid.

Last night I got my gift.

A pound of ground coffee.

Granted it was chocolate raspberry coffee, a favorite of mine, but the sickest, most ridiculous gift ever?

Can't wait for my birthday.

Rock on,

Aitch

Different

As y'all know, I've had two-three day stubble for the last seven/eight years... problem was it made Josie's face look like she had just kissed sandpaper after a night with me. Though I argued that it was as if I was merely brushing away her dead facial skin like a good exfoliant, she chose not to see the forest for the trees, and though she didn't ask me too, I shaved it off.

Mike, the dude who sits next to me, said I look much younger... cool...younger is good, I guess. Thanks Mike!

Last night, I met Josie for dinner. Waiting for me in front of the restaurant, I walk up to her...she kisses me, feeling my face and says...

"It looks... different."

"Thank...huh?"

She claims that it was meant in a good way (I guess it would be like "Yo! Tha' shit is DIFF'RENT!!") -

Maybe I'm a victim of my upbringing, but all I could remember is sitting at the table and mom asking me and Rich what we think of her orange marmalade enthused spaghetti sauce and Rich going, "Umm, well, it's different."

So seriously, what do you think? Does Josie have a leg to stand on here?

I didn't think so...

Rock On,

Aitch

Oh, Good Grief...

So I did the early show at Gotham this past Friday night (went lousy, thanks... I'm in my first slump since, well, since I started getting decent) and mom came, along with Deeanna, her friend Roy, and Josie.

Deeanna's live-in boyfriend, Ronnie, is a drummer. He couldn't make it cause he had a gig. After the show, we're outside talking about how Ronnie travels sometimes for work. Mom said (and no, i'm not joking)... "You know he's probably cheating on you."
"Mom!"
"Well, he is...that's how musicians are."
"Oh, good grief." I felt a weird sensation in my stomach as I could actually sense the lining peel away.

Rock On,

Aitch

Mail Dude Strikes Again

Got into a discussion about an upcoming pro-wrestling match with the mail dude. I told him that I thought The Undertaker would lose...he responded, without a trace of irony mind you, "I don't think so...you can't kill something that's already dead."

We stared at each other for thirty seconds, before I answered, "You're right...I'm an idiot."

please shoot me.

Rock on (or don't... see if I care),

Aitch

Awww, C'mon! It's a Joooooke!!!

Had a date last night with a girl who does social work for abused women...guess that rules out my favorite role-playing game.

On the bright side, I assume she'll know what not to say so I don't feel urge to smack her.

Rock On,

Aitch

I Almost Punched Out A 90 Year Old Man

So my dog run has two sides...one for lil dogs, and one for big ones. For the last couple of days, they've been fixing the big dog part, so it's been closed. There is a sign at the front gate, informing big dog owners that there's another run about a block away. But yesterday, when I brought Stewie to the run in the morning, there was a big dog in the small run (and no other dogs). When I opened the gate, Stewie growled at him.

As many of y'all know by now, I'm a bit of a lunatic when it comes to my dog, so I spotted the owner, a guy who may've fought in the Civil War, I tersely said, "Ya know, ya not supposed to be in here with big dogs."

He responded, "I'll go wherever the fuck I want."

It was on.

"What?!?" I practically shrieked, "You've gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me!!" I followed him as he started back to the bench he was sitting on.

"You heard me!" He replied over his shoulder.

"This isn't your fuckin' run!"

"Quit fuckin' following me!" He answered, sitting down.

"I can go wherever the fuck I want! Sound familiar?!?"

"I'll get the cops!"

"Go ahead. Get the fuckin' cops. Please do!" He was seated and I was standing over him.

"Keep this up and I'll kick your fuckin' dog!"

"Go ahead. Try to kick my dog... I fuckin' DARE you!"

"Just get away from me! What are you, some sort of fag?"

"Yeah, I'm a fag."

Eventually, he shut up and I retreated to a bench on the other side.

Then he got up and started again.

"Oh, look at me, a fag with my little faggy dog," he squealed in a high pitched voice, while prancing around with one hand floppy (the International symbol for gaayness). He obviously figured that would push my buttons, but watching this 90-year-old guy skipping back and forth in the dog run for a minute, I only wished I had a video camera. He continued to try to bait me, asking me if I wanted to kiss him, etc, but I could no longer take him seriously.

His dog, who was laying down the entire time, limped over to me. I petted him. Stewie then brought him the ball that I was tossing to him.

After a couple of minutes, the guy walked up to me.

"Sorry, I'm sorry about all that. You can't take me seriously, I'm insane."

"That's all right. I was wrong too."

"I gotta go, but I'm Jeremy."

"Harris."

"Nice to meet you.. take care."

And then Jeremy left.

If this was a TV show, there'd be a voiceover in the end with the narrator saying something like, "Women sometimes derogatorily refer to men as dogs, but in light of today, maybe they should rethink their metaphors."

Rock On,

Aitch

btw - I wish this wasn't a true story... but it's not even exaggerated at all. The lesson is threaten my dog at your own peril...and I'm insane.

Not that there's anything wrong with that...

Just wanted to share a little tidbit from last night....

I was sposed to meet Deeanna at a bar (Campbell's Apartment) in Grand Central - I arrive early - get my Apple Martini and people watch...

I, seeing a more open spot, move to the other side of the bar - Deeanna arrives, gets a Grey Goose Martini...

We drink, and we're ready for another - since we're at a different spot - hence a diff bartender - than when I ordered my drink, I tell the bartender...
"She'll have another grey goose martini and I'll have an Apple Martini"
"An Apple Martini?"
"Umm, yeah, apple martini." He sniggered and got our drinks.
Deeanna, who's a regular there, said - through tears of laughter - its the first time she ever saw him smile.
I was half-expecting him to come back with my drink with a lil dainty umbrella in it

I'm surprised that never happened to me on a date

btw -

snig-ger 1.n. - a disrespectful laugh
2.v. - laugh quietly

Just so ya'll know, i'm in the midst of writing the tale of my writing class - it's gonna be looooong (like novella size) - dunno how good it'll be but we'll see - here are some excerpts so you don't, don't, don't don't, don't you...forget about me. Like most movies though, these are prolly the only funny parts. Anyway, it'll begin thusly...


Mem-oir n. - 1. An account of the personal experiences of an author. 2. An autobiography. 3. A biography or biographical sketch. 4. Personal essays written by someone who thinks their life is just so damn fascinating that he or she thinks others will want to stop living their own lives to read about the writer’s life.

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I can see me at my book signing in a Barnes and Noble that they would have to close to the general public due to the huge throng of my adoring fans. In fact, extra security would have to be brought in – with stun guns – yes, stun guns after The Incident last week at the Borders in Binghamton signing

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WEEK ONE (I smell trouble...or is it me) – I walked into the classroom a half-hour early to see seven people already seated. I looked in one middle aged woman’s direction and asked loudly enough for all to hear “Is this for genital herpes or all herpes?”
“Excuse me?”
“This support group…is it only for people with genital herpes or for all herpes sufferers?” I asked.
She stammered while looking around for help, “I…think…you’re…in the wrong room. This is a memoir writing class.”
“Oh wait, I’m sorry. Today’s Thursday, isn’t it? Oh wait its Wednesday…silly me. No, I’m in the right place, just had my days mixed up. Sorry.”

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I scanned my thirteen classmates to size them up and immediately realized one thing – I can beat them all up. Sure, there were about seven or eight women in the 30-44 range, three to four in the 45-60 range, two gay men - trust me, they were gay - and one other guy who was about 50, but still, it was the first time I could ever say that in a classroom. If anyone was going to threaten and fleece classmates of their lunch money in this class, it was going to be me.

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I couldn’t help but think I was in the wrong class. I thought of Goldie Hawn in Private Benjamin pulling aside her commanding officer to explain that she didn’t sign up for this army – no, she signed up for the other army. I think I was supposed to be in the other memoir writing class, you know, the one with the people who knew basic English

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I May Be Bi-Polar

So I woke up yesterday tired. The kind of tired that makes you tell your dog that he's gonna have to find a way to walk himself. But I got up.

Long story/short, I took a half day at work so I could play with Stewie, before heading out to Jersey for a show at a restaurant. When I got to work, I figured that I should prolly find out how I'm getting to the gig.

I found out that though I could take a bus out there, they stop running at 9:30, well before the show ends. Swell. I figured that worst comes to worst, I'll take a car service home.

Cut to me on the bus going there:

"This is it. I can't do this anymore. What the heck do I need this for? I gotta travel an hour and a half each way, and hang out for a two hour show, for 15 minutes of stage time and $55?!? And I don't even know how I'm getting home?!? I'm too old for this crap. This is it."

So, I got there. The restaurant was packed. They served me dinner (pork tenderloin with some pineappley stuff and rice) and Davin (the producer of the show) procured a ride for me, at least to The Bronx, with another comic.

As the MC, I went first. The crowd, about 100 people, dug me. Not like last Wednesday (I dont think I'll ever get five applause breaks in my life), but they dug me. After getting off, Davin shakes my hand, pays me ($55), and tells me that he'll definitely use me again and will recommend me to others. I went to the bar and got some (free!) Key Lime Pie while the next comic does his thing.

"Wow...that was great. Though the traveling is bad, I'm definitely on a high that's carry me into tomorrow. And isn't feeling good about something you've done what it's all about? And I made people laugh. I'm performing a very real service. I'm a humanitarian and getting paid for it!"

I got the next guy (Tom) offstage and introduced the headliner. Tom was the guy who was gonna gimmee a life to the train in The Bronx. He wanted to hang out to sell some DVD's after the show. So we wait for the headliner to finish.

And we wait...and wait...and wait...and wait...and wait.

After an hour, with no end in sight, Tom figured that the headliner killed any potential sales anyway, so we headed out (I was told that I didn't have to close the show).

Tom and I weren't too sure about where exactly he was dropping me off. All we knew was "There's an 'A' train right after you get over the George Washington Bridge." Naturally, we missed the exit...so we're driving in The Bronx...he just wants to unload me and I felt guilty. I told him to just take the next exit and I'd figure out how to get home. He was happy to oblige (usually, the MC drives the other acts...not the other way around).

Thankfully, when we got off on Jerome Ave (?), there was a 4 train right there. Couple of shady looking characters hanging so I unbuttoned my dress shirt (cause, you know, that makes me tougher... oh, shut up, you!). I made it to the elevated platform. I was exhausted, it was almost 12, pretty cold outside, and I was taking a train in The Bronx.

"This is brutal. I can't do this. I should be home, playing with my pup, or sleeping. Jeez, when was the last time I slept eight hours? Months...."

The train came, I got a great connection to the 'B", which went express to 59th Street. Walked home and was greeted by an ecstatic Stewie. We played for half hour before turning in around 1.

"That wasn't so bad. I felt like I accomplished something. I had fun, and I even got paid. Awesome."

I woke up this morning exhausted. And I have another gig in Jersey tonight.

Rock On,

Aitch

There Ya Go

Had a date last night. We went out for drinks. Every sentence I said, she followed with, "There ya go."

"So I took a half day to play with my dog so I don't feel bad leaving him when I've got a gig at night."
"There ya go."

"I get home late so I often eat cold cereal for dinner."
"There ya go."

"All my relatives are dead."
"There ya go."

Okay, the last one is a joke, but I may wanna ask her out again just so I can say that.

Rock On,

Aitch

NOW, the Fun Starts!

ANYWAY, a comic bud (Josh) e-mailed me on Friday, asking if I wanted to fill in at a benefit show for Relay For Life, a cancer organization, at Mercy College that evening. It was supposed to be at the soccer/track field.

"Sure," I said. HE told me that there were supposed to be 500 people there. "Cool."

The three of us (his other comic bud) took a train from Grand Central to the school. We spent the trip making fun of other comics (comics at my level are like high school girls).

When we got to the field, our collective faces dropped. Not only were there 75 people there (tops), but most were 'tweeners (i.e. between 10 and like 13/14). There were kids running around, some people walking around the track, and tents set up for bbq's. I saw the stage, which was about 50 feet from the seats.

"Seriously, guys, "Josh started, "If you wanna turn around and head back, I'm with you. Seriously." The other comic, Jim, looked at me.

"No!" I said, "We came here, we're gonna do it...it'll be an experience." Josh and Jim silently agreed, I think. "So where are we sposed to go?"

"The woman said to look for the tent with the two monkeys."
"You're not kidding, are you?"
"No."

We found the monkeys (they were blow-up dolls) and the woman.
"You guys will go up after the belly dancers."
"Of course we will."

Since no one else wanted to, I agreed to go on first. The MC tried to get SOME audience as everyone had dispersed after the belly dancers.

My first joke got nothing. Second joke more of the same. I tapped the mic and asked, "is this thing on?"
Jim said, "Unfortunately." I was being heckled by my fellow comics.

At one point, someone in the audience asked if I knew any "knock-knock" jokes.
"No, but you know why six hated seven?"
"Cause seven ate nine," Came the answer from several kids.
That's what I get for stealing jokes.

After one joke where I use the word "ventriloquism" in the punchline, some kid in the crowd asked, "What's ventriloquism?"
"Oh Lord, help me," I asked, eyes upward. I told a few jokes where I actually stopped in the middle realizing they aint gonna get it anyway.

Jim sent Josh a text (while he was onstage) - "YOU ARE BOMBING"

Unfortunately, Josh didn't check it while onstage, but he did tell a joke, got nothing, and proceeded to say, "You know, at Caroline's in NYC that joke got a 45 second applause break."

Jim and I were practically on the floor laughing. After he got off, I asked him if he realized how long 45 seconds are. Then I proceeded to show him, clapping for 45 seconds.

We were supposed to each do 15 minutes...we all bailed after about 8.

Best part was how after we got off, the MC got back onstage and announced...

"NOW THE FUN STARTS!!!"

Yeah, AFTER the comics. We didn't even stick around to find out what fun she was referring to.

On the way home, we didn't make fun of other comics as much as ourselves. Yup, another awesome Friday night livin' the dream.

Ack.

Rock On,

Aitch

There's Hope For Us Yet

http://www.reallysmalltalk.com/thereshope.htm

Rock On,

Aitch

Um Yeah, She's Adorable

Today is "Bring Your Child To Work Day" here.

On a related note, if my doctor can take me, I'm gonna leave early for a vasectomy.

Rock On,

Aitch

Seeing the Big Picture

Had a show last night at the New York Comedy Club. As I was leaving, this dude in the audience was literally dragging his girlfriend out. She was totally hammered. As I was saying goodbye's with a few comics outside, I noticed that she seemed barely conscious, and was draped on him as he leaned against a building. I went over to ask if she was okay.
"I think so."
Not liking his indecisive answer, I walked back into the club and tell an assistant manager to come out. By the time we got outside, she was vomiting.
The manager said, "Can you move away from the door?" and walked back in.

I love that club.

Rock On,

Aitch

I Missed a Spot

So I had a date Sunday night. Since one of my fave comics, Dave Attell, was performing at Gotham, I figured we'd meet for a drink and then see him.

Here's my new favorite thing about being a comic - Management at Gotham actually treated me like a bit of a big deal. Waiting on line, one of the assistant managers walked over to me, shook my hand, and asked if I was getting comped.
"I dunno."
"Here." He pulled out a couple of free passes. "If they don't comp you, give them these, and they will."
"Thanks!"

When we got to the front of the line, the guy who figures out where to seat people recognized me as well....
"Hey! Harris Bloom!"
"How's it goin'?"
"Good," He said, giving me our seating assignment. "You're both comped."
"Thanks!"

When we ambled over to the dude who actually seats us, it was more of the same...
"Mr. Bloom, how are you?"
"Good."

Imagine if I really was somebody.

As we got closer to our seats, I knew I had to make a decision. There were already two people sitting at our table. They had The Good Side... basically, facing the stage. My decision involved whether to sit on the outer-most seat or the one closer to the stage. Here's the dilemma: The outer-most seat is prolly more comfortable, so I'd normally give it to her. BUT, I had given myself a haircut (using a razor) earlier, and I knew there was razor-burn, but also, since I no longer have anyone to ask, I worry about missing spots. So I was worried about me looking like some kinda missing link as she stared at a few patches of hair on the back of my head for the entire show.

I ended up giving her the outer-most seat and remained self-conscious for the duration. And I know she was staring at it, cause every time I turned around to say something to her, she was looking at me. So yeah, I know.

btw - Rachel's claim to match.com fame is that she's the ONLY person I think I've ever met who under "turn-offs" had clicked on "thrills."

Come again?

Upon cross-examination, she claimed she meant horror movies, which contrary to popular belief, isn't a big deal for me.

Though she agreed to have dinner after the, I'm not sure she was diggin' me as by the time I got home and logged in to match to tell her that I had a good time, her profile was gone.

Ack.

Rock On,

Aitch

Can I Borrow Anyone's Pipe and Smoking Jacket?

I was just invited to do my first reading.

Some guy found me thanks to me reallysmalltalk stuff and wants me to be part of some Brooklyn arts thingy (http://atlanticavenueartwalk.com/) on June 9th. The question now is what do I read? He asked for something "light" which precludes "The Fishkill Redemption" or even "Confessions of a Serial Dater." I'm thinking "NY Bar Scene" and "New Ideas for a New Millennium" are too short. "Busted" is too icky. "Night of the Living Jews was never a favorite of mine. Hmmm, I"m thinking it's gotta be "Blind Date Ambition" or "My Mom and Ray Romano."

Anyway, it's somewhere in Brooklyn, if anyone wants to go.

Rock On,

Aitch

Take My Mom...Please!

So last Friday semi-evening, I hosted a show at Gotham - mom came, and so did Lynda, chick I'm seeing - after the show, I introduce them, and after telling mom that Lynda writes novels, I make a joke about the type of stuff (chick-lit) Lynda writes...let's listen in, shall we?

Me - Yeah, her last book was called "Women Wear Shoes."

Lynda - It was not!

Mom - So what do you write about, like fashion?

Lynda - Does it look like I write about fashion?

Mom- No! It doesn't!

Me - Good night, everybody! You've been great!

Rock On,

Aitch

Weird

So I got into work fifteen minutes and already so bored that I googled myself and I found that yesterday, a piece of mine that I had submitted months ago was posted online! This is the second time this has happened (no, not me googling myself...that's a daily occurrence).

Anyway, Yankee Pot Roast is a really good site, right up there with McSweeney's (in fact they do an awesome parody of McSweeney's in their archive)...so check out their other stuff (as most is better than my piece).

http://www.yankeepotroast.org/archives/2007/05/further_proof_t.html

Rock On,

Aitch

Easy Come, Easy Go...Easy Come Again

So I'm at the dog run yesterday when Samantha calls me to break up. Maybe I'm not all that into her but my response was basically, "Ok, good luck!"

After we hang up, I'm like, "Shit! Who am I gonna take to see Ricky Gervais Saturday night?!?"

Five minutes pass. My phone rings again. It's Samantha.

"Umm, hi, I was wondering if it's possible for us to forget that I called before."
"I'm sorry?"
"Well, I don't want to break up."
"Okaaaay. Can I ask what happened in the last five minutes to change your mind?"
"Well, when I was doing it, it didn't seem right."
"Well, I've already moved on...I'm seeing someone else."

"I'm kidding! But you realize that I can't even send this out to my friends as an e-mail cause you'll sound insane."
"Yeah, sorry about this."
"No problem."

If she were a Gervais fan, I woulda been suspicious...but she's not, so she's just insane.

Rock On,

Aitch

Mother's Day

What I wrote to mom in her Mother's Day card:

"I honestly couldn't have become a comic without you."

She's going to bring it to her office to show off.

Rock On,

Aitch

Where's Security When You Need Them

So I hosted at Gotham on Friday night. Having told my mom that she can get n free when I host, she came with some of her work friends. It may be the last time I tell her that I'm hosting.

Before the show, I was hanging with one of the managers* when mom walks in. First thing she says...

"Hi Harris...you want a banana?"

Truely a percursor of things to come.

So we start the show. As host, I'm starting the "Whereyafrom's?" I ask, "Anyone here from out of town?" Mom raises her hand.

"You're not from out of town, mom."
"Well, I was born in Kentucky."
"Yeah, but that's not what I asked."

Later on, I tell her that she's not supposed to talk to me on stage.

"Well, if you called, maybe I wouldn't have to."
"Oh, God help me." "Security?"

After the show, an audience member wanted to give me twenty bucks for my therapy.

Rock On,

Aitch

The Jerkstore Just Called...

Have a date tonight.

When someone at work walked by my desk as I was checking out her online profile and I told him that I was going out with her, he looked at her picture and said with his Italian accent, "Is she for real?"

Mike and I started dying laughing.

He may as well've asked, "Has she seen YOU?"

Rock On,

Aitch

I'm Gonna Die Alone

You'd think now that I do comedy and write, it would really give me a edge with the ladies. I mean, usually, once someone asks me what I do for a living and I say, "Regulatory Accounting," she's asleep by the "count" part.

But now, my hobbies can fill up at least 30 minutes of conversation before they fall asleep.

There's just one problem with it.

The natural inclination is to "google" me... see if anything's out there about me. I know I would. The very first match that comes up is...

CONFESSIONS OF A SERIAL DATER!

Super, I've managed to c**kblock myself.

Rock On,

Aitch

Good Question

http://www.reallysmalltalk.com/goodquest.htm

Rock On,

Aitch

Better than Eggs?

Walking in supermarket yesterday, I saw this product - "Better Than Eggs" - Here are a few of the names they rejected...

Eggs Suck
Eggs - They Kill Puppies, Ya Know
This Won't Clog Your Arteries and Kill You like Eggs Will
Eggs - Official Food of Al Qaeda
I Can't Believe It's Not Eggs!
Much better than Eggs

All I know is I'd be pretty angry if I owned an egg company.

Rock On,

Aitch

So I Went to an Accounting Conference this Mornin'...

List of Assumptions that the Speaker Mentioned That Weren't True for Me...


- I'm sure you're all wondering how these new rules will affect your company.
- As you all know, a lot has happened in the industry since our last meeting.
- SFAS 157 obviously superseded EITF-0203.
- By now, we're all familiar with SFAS 159.
- You may've seen the article in the Wall Street Journal last week about fair value treatment.
- Everyone here knows what Brady Bonds are, right?
- As I'm sure you're all aware, the mission allowance market has taken off in the past few years.
- See y'all next time.

Rock On,

Aitch

Chess with the Shah

Had a show at Gotham - one of the other comics on the card is around my level, but is ultra-competitive. When he found out I was performong too, he bumped fists with me while warning, "You better bring your A-Game...I sure am." Umm, yeah, whatever.

I did my set...did well. After he did his set (he did well too), he walked over to me, pretended to stick his finger in his mouth, then pretended to drag it on the ground, because you see, as he said, "He scorched the earth." Umm, yeah, whatever.

Afterwards, me and some friends who came (thanks Deeanna and Kim!) went to dinner. One of Deeanna's friends came by, wearing a suit, and a baseball cap backwards (the cap, not the suit). I'm already like, "Umm, yeah, whatever." But halfway through dinner, he told us that he was born in Iran and his father, being a big shot in the government, used to play chess with the Shah!

Chess with the Shah!

I immediately found him ten times more fascinating. SO from now on, especially on dates, I'm gonna tell people that my dad played tetherball with the Ayatollah. If they aren't sufficiently impressed, I'll add that my uncle played foosball with Noriega. That aughtta do it.

Rock On,

Aitch