Check this out and see how you feel after.
http://www.leveragedsellout.com/2007/02/pocket-changed-my-life/
I can't decide if I'm outraged or inspired, or outraged that I am inspired. These Patrick Bateman types have always been a source of inner conflict for me. Some say this blog is a parody. I secretly hope that it's not, but I fear that it is. Douchebags don't write that well. But this guy does have a lot of information...
My God I am totally avoiding prepping my set for Carolines tomorrow! I prep for my sets with the same obsessiveness and pride I imagine top chefs devote to their meals.
Carolines
June, 19 2007
Amuse bouche
Missed Connections
Entree
America's Next Top Lesbian
Dessert
Jokes
I have prepared a six minute set. If they give me eight minutes, I will have to pull out some dishes I would rather not serve, such as "Good Sex," which is a joke about childhood sex abuse and "Occasions" which is about celebrations in the sex and love addict community. I hope they give me only six minutes.
Today the police were really sticking it to our guests. All these Wall Street types were trying to drop their cars off for valet, double parking their cars, but the cops were yelling at them, not letting them double park, issuing them tickets for staying in their cars.
"But officer, I'm running late for a meeting, and I can't back up.."
"DID I ASK YOU FOR EXCUSES?"
Hahaha. I like it when the blue collar really stick it to the white collar.
I like it when things get really intense in NY. One Japanese lady was crying because it took valet parking an hour and a half to pull their car around. They were trying to get to the airport for their flight. Valet Parking's response? "Lady, this is Manhattan."
HaHA! See what I've been saying people!? Lady, this is Manhattan. I couldn't have put it better myself!
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Sunday, June 17, 2007
On Maui Taco
Today after work I went to an open mic in the basement of a restaurant just south of the Empire State Building named "Maui Taco." It was hosted by a big friendly Puerto Rican man and was attended by a delightful collection of amateur New York comics.
One of the comics was talking about how the perfect girlfriend would be Helen Keller. "You're just hanging out with your buddies and then there's some deaf and blind chic you like keep in a cage." This is the moment preceding the moment where I stand up, grab my purse, and yell, real loud, and very much like a lesbian prison warden or an Indiana football coach, "FUUUUCK!" and then storm out of the bar/restaurant/taco stand.
Which is, I think we can all agree, hilarious.
I then charged up and down Fifth Avenue like an unemployed man about to punch his girlfriend. Lots of rage. Up and down Fifth Ave. Then I decided to calm down and that this was all really ridiculous and isn't this exactly the sort of stuff that gets one laughed at real good and hard?
So then I walked back in. The guy apologized to me in front of everybody, but someone hadn't read the O magazine where they tell you how to apologize (always review what you did wrong), so then I got pissed off all over again because I don't think he got why he was apologizing.
But I stayed and it turns out that he's a sex addict as well, so then I got attracted to him.
I went to look for him after the open mic ended, but he was gone. So bittersweet.
My sponsor made me make a spreadsheet of all the qualities I want in a partner. I am to review any future dating partner and ensure that he or she has a sufficient number of pre-selected qualities. Unfortunately, "good sense of humor--like mine" is high on the list, and so Mr. Helen Keller is out of the running.
In the category of news we can only categorize as "Awesome!":
On March 31, 1993, David married Laurie Lennard; they have two daughters named Cazzie and Romy, and they live in Pacific Palisades, California. Like her counterpart, Cheryl David (played by Cheryl Hines), in Curb Your Enthusiasm, Laurie is an environmental activist. Since May 2005, the couple have each been contributing bloggers at The Huffington Post.[1]
On June 5, 2007, the couple announced their intention to amicably separate.[2]
Amicable separation? Awesome!
Once I get to know Larry more, I will be able to see how he does with regard to the list.
One of the comics was talking about how the perfect girlfriend would be Helen Keller. "You're just hanging out with your buddies and then there's some deaf and blind chic you like keep in a cage." This is the moment preceding the moment where I stand up, grab my purse, and yell, real loud, and very much like a lesbian prison warden or an Indiana football coach, "FUUUUCK!" and then storm out of the bar/restaurant/taco stand.
Which is, I think we can all agree, hilarious.
I then charged up and down Fifth Avenue like an unemployed man about to punch his girlfriend. Lots of rage. Up and down Fifth Ave. Then I decided to calm down and that this was all really ridiculous and isn't this exactly the sort of stuff that gets one laughed at real good and hard?
So then I walked back in. The guy apologized to me in front of everybody, but someone hadn't read the O magazine where they tell you how to apologize (always review what you did wrong), so then I got pissed off all over again because I don't think he got why he was apologizing.
But I stayed and it turns out that he's a sex addict as well, so then I got attracted to him.
I went to look for him after the open mic ended, but he was gone. So bittersweet.
My sponsor made me make a spreadsheet of all the qualities I want in a partner. I am to review any future dating partner and ensure that he or she has a sufficient number of pre-selected qualities. Unfortunately, "good sense of humor--like mine" is high on the list, and so Mr. Helen Keller is out of the running.
In the category of news we can only categorize as "Awesome!":
On March 31, 1993, David married Laurie Lennard; they have two daughters named Cazzie and Romy, and they live in Pacific Palisades, California. Like her counterpart, Cheryl David (played by Cheryl Hines), in Curb Your Enthusiasm, Laurie is an environmental activist. Since May 2005, the couple have each been contributing bloggers at The Huffington Post.[1]
On June 5, 2007, the couple announced their intention to amicably separate.[2]
Amicable separation? Awesome!
Once I get to know Larry more, I will be able to see how he does with regard to the list.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Just a Little Recap of Today
Today after work I picked up three apricots, some
V8 juice, some milk and two apples.
Zoe Cassavettes, the daughter of Gina Rowlands and John Cassavettes always has two Fuji apples and some non-fat milk in her fridge, according to the New York Times. I looked for Fuji apples, but they didn't have any so I bought Granny Smith, which I found to be very "Mischa Barton", and also DKNY ad campaign (blech) so I was a little disappointed.
Then I came home and watched some Home of the Sparrow, or Flight of the Conchords or whatever it is. I felt bad because I am not on television. I have to go to lots of meetings and be obsessive about things. I think if I wasn't quite so crazy, I could definitely be on television.
Then I made fliers for my next show. The fliers are made with crayon and index cards.
Tonight I'm going to go to a cafe and try to write a joke about a family of five quietly driving around in a car, where everyone is looking out the window with the same facial expression, which is that of someone with bad diarrhea. We'll see.
Oh! I am performing at Carolines on Tuesday! It's a gay and lesbian and bi pride show.
Please contact me for further information.
V8 juice, some milk and two apples.Zoe Cassavettes, the daughter of Gina Rowlands and John Cassavettes always has two Fuji apples and some non-fat milk in her fridge, according to the New York Times. I looked for Fuji apples, but they didn't have any so I bought Granny Smith, which I found to be very "Mischa Barton", and also DKNY ad campaign (blech) so I was a little disappointed.
Then I came home and watched some Home of the Sparrow, or Flight of the Conchords or whatever it is. I felt bad because I am not on television. I have to go to lots of meetings and be obsessive about things. I think if I wasn't quite so crazy, I could definitely be on television.
Then I made fliers for my next show. The fliers are made with crayon and index cards.
Tonight I'm going to go to a cafe and try to write a joke about a family of five quietly driving around in a car, where everyone is looking out the window with the same facial expression, which is that of someone with bad diarrhea. We'll see.
Oh! I am performing at Carolines on Tuesday! It's a gay and lesbian and bi pride show.
Please contact me for further information.
Friday, June 08, 2007
Give the Jokes
Today I was tromping around town wearing this polyester gem of gown:
when a man waiting beside me at the corner of 57th and 5th turned to me and said, "I think that may be the most beautiful dress in all of New York."
He was a black man in a pink dress shirt and flower print tie.
I turned to him and said, I think quite reasonably, "Are you making fun of me?"
"No. Are you an artist?"
"No. I am a performer though."
"What kind?"
"I am a comedian. You know, stand up."
"Oh, you give the jokes?"
"Yes."
"You know what they say, don't you? The people who give jokes, they live long lives."
And then he walked away.
Well, slap me on the ass and call me Michael Landon, I think I just received one of those little-talked about but well-known Angel Visits! I have had those often in my life's journey, but none quite so succint and quite so in front of the legendary Plaza! Talk about a stroke of good luck! Can you believe this? "Those who give the jokes live the longest." Wow. I mean, what an incentive to give the jokes!
Also notable today:
While I was sitting in the cafeteria, reading a NYT article about those scary-smart, scary-young Google programmers and their endless quest for a "better search" ("Keep going kids!" I say. I'm still trying to track down some key employment information on some ex's ex-girlfriends so KEEP ON IT!), I was rudely interrupted by a Jamaican lady yelling "Hey Lady! Yo Lady! You with the paper!"
"Yes?" I say, finally catching on.
"Where's Wisconsin?"
"Above Chicago."
"It's not Massachusetts? He's sayin' it's Massachusetts or something!" She gestures to a cross-eyed Indian man sitting next to her.
"No. It's...it's not Massachusetts. It's...above Chicago."
I say Chicago because Chicago is a generally recognizable city here at the hotel.
"Okay! Thank you!"
I guess I don't know jack shit about Jamaica so I should just shut my prissy trap.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Big Mama Don't Care!
So there are clearly some guests at the hotel who I plain and simple do not like. When they start to act up, I immediately pull that shit away. They are no longer a friend of Kara J. Buller's, I will tell you that. Somebody ain't readin' that Secret shit so somebody needs to git away from me! That's how I see it. I don't need no more negativity rubbing up against me. I'm tryin' to fight the good fight over here and I don't need no babies cryin' about no lukewarm brefass buffet, you hear me?
Today there was a travel agent acting up. She didn't like her room.
"I mean there's no make-up mirror, there's no bathmat, there's no bathrobe. I want you to get me a nicer room."
"Listen, bitch I can get you a nicer room but it ain't gonna be at this hotel, okay? It gonna be ova at the St. Regis or some shit. We be talking the London or the Soho Grand or some shit like that if you gonna be talkin' about makeup mirror."
Dumb bitch. I told her three times that our rooms don't come with no makeup mirror.
"I want you to move me to a nicer room."
I moved her to another room that was the exact same as her nasty room. Dumb bitch. That'll teach her.
After that shit, I asked to go out and stand in the lobby by the checkin machines. Stand there all day and fart and smile at people. All day long. Now that be the job, girl! Just fuckin' stand by the automated check in machine and help the retards get their credit cards swiping the right way?! That's right!
On the train ride home I was sittin' across from some bitch who had some bag from Stretch World, Inc. "Specializing in Stretch Fabrics since 1997. 252 West 38th Street New York, NY 10018." I ain't shittin you! Check out their website, yo! They got demin metallic stretch for 8 bills a yard, yo!
Grrrl, I dragged my ass to some literary event over where the homos live in the Chelsea, you know? They done gone and postponed that muthafuckin' literary event! I's standin' out there flippin' through my New Yorker lookin' for some other literary event to go to like some junkie trying to get his fix...
Mama took it over to the French res'rant, mmkay? Mama got some crepes and some warm pineapple juice poured over ice. Put those feet up and pulled out my Backstage. You know what I'm talkin' about. A girl has got to keep up. Check out those audition notices and shit. Grrrrrrrl, you have got to! Even if yo ass be real ugly and you ain't got no talent and you just stutter and get all sweaty when you up there… Turns out that comedy club Gotham's lookin' for comics. You only gotta bring four people. Then what. Then they give you a videotape so you can add it to the pile with all your other videotapes. You know what I'm gonna say to that don't you? That's right. That's some buulllllllllshit!
Got home and put me in some Entourage. Now that I got me a Jew manager I got to keep on top of these things. See how this mutherfuckin shit gits done!
But you tell me why mama wants to watch some show about some skinny ass pretty boys fuckin pretty girls and goin' around all day talkin' about pussy and televisions! All day long. Pussy and televisions. Televisions and pussy. Big mama don't care!
Grrrrrl, I tell you what. It's been one of those days. Mama gonna draw herself a bath, and get ready for another day of some bulllllllshit.
Today there was a travel agent acting up. She didn't like her room.
"I mean there's no make-up mirror, there's no bathmat, there's no bathrobe. I want you to get me a nicer room."
"Listen, bitch I can get you a nicer room but it ain't gonna be at this hotel, okay? It gonna be ova at the St. Regis or some shit. We be talking the London or the Soho Grand or some shit like that if you gonna be talkin' about makeup mirror."
Dumb bitch. I told her three times that our rooms don't come with no makeup mirror.
"I want you to move me to a nicer room."
I moved her to another room that was the exact same as her nasty room. Dumb bitch. That'll teach her.
After that shit, I asked to go out and stand in the lobby by the checkin machines. Stand there all day and fart and smile at people. All day long. Now that be the job, girl! Just fuckin' stand by the automated check in machine and help the retards get their credit cards swiping the right way?! That's right!
On the train ride home I was sittin' across from some bitch who had some bag from Stretch World, Inc. "Specializing in Stretch Fabrics since 1997. 252 West 38th Street New York, NY 10018." I ain't shittin you! Check out their website, yo! They got demin metallic stretch for 8 bills a yard, yo!
Grrrl, I dragged my ass to some literary event over where the homos live in the Chelsea, you know? They done gone and postponed that muthafuckin' literary event! I's standin' out there flippin' through my New Yorker lookin' for some other literary event to go to like some junkie trying to get his fix...
Mama took it over to the French res'rant, mmkay? Mama got some crepes and some warm pineapple juice poured over ice. Put those feet up and pulled out my Backstage. You know what I'm talkin' about. A girl has got to keep up. Check out those audition notices and shit. Grrrrrrrl, you have got to! Even if yo ass be real ugly and you ain't got no talent and you just stutter and get all sweaty when you up there… Turns out that comedy club Gotham's lookin' for comics. You only gotta bring four people. Then what. Then they give you a videotape so you can add it to the pile with all your other videotapes. You know what I'm gonna say to that don't you? That's right. That's some buulllllllllshit!
Got home and put me in some Entourage. Now that I got me a Jew manager I got to keep on top of these things. See how this mutherfuckin shit gits done!
But you tell me why mama wants to watch some show about some skinny ass pretty boys fuckin pretty girls and goin' around all day talkin' about pussy and televisions! All day long. Pussy and televisions. Televisions and pussy. Big mama don't care!
Grrrrrl, I tell you what. It's been one of those days. Mama gonna draw herself a bath, and get ready for another day of some bulllllllshit.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Joan Didion You are KILLING Me!
"She was lying on her back on the asphalt. An ambulance was called. She was taken to UCLA. According to Gerry she was awake and lucid in the ambulance. It was only in the emergency room that she began convulsing and lost coherence."
Dear God! I don't see how she could think that any of this was funny! This is dreadfully serious stuff! And I haven't seen a real honest to god set-up/punch since page 43, when she was talking about her chanting in Latin at St. John the Divine.
I am, of course, reading Joan Didion National Book Award-winning The Year of Magical Thinking.
I am sitting in a French-style cafe on the Lower East Side where apparenly, actor-musician Mos Def can be found at least weekly. Well. I could use the man right about now. He suggests you try to French toast, and you can bet I did. Anything to block out Joan and the heat. Note to readers: do NOT mix sweltering heat and books on grief. This should be a no-brainer, but Old Buller here thought she could take it.
I FedExed a sample of my comedy to Murfreesboro, TN today. It took everything I had to spell it the way the true spelling requires that it be spelled.
I have been charging up a storm on my credit card getting my dvds out of my house. Now I just need to charge up a storm getting me out of this country.
I am wearing vintage Lilly Pulitzer green and turquoise pants given to me by a Columbia-educated friend I was in love with. She is gone, but her pants remain. I am hoping that the pants will attract a new, Columbia-educated well-connected friend. Don't the wealthy have an eye for one another's things?
Earlier today a black man sitting on a lawn chair yelled to me "Yo fly's undone!"
So we do know that black men sitting on lawn chairs have an eye for open flies.
The line to sum up today? Doing the best I can. The Four Agreements says "always do your best." I think the "always" is a bit much. I think "more often than not" is better.
Dear God! I don't see how she could think that any of this was funny! This is dreadfully serious stuff! And I haven't seen a real honest to god set-up/punch since page 43, when she was talking about her chanting in Latin at St. John the Divine.
I am, of course, reading Joan Didion National Book Award-winning The Year of Magical Thinking.
I am sitting in a French-style cafe on the Lower East Side where apparenly, actor-musician Mos Def can be found at least weekly. Well. I could use the man right about now. He suggests you try to French toast, and you can bet I did. Anything to block out Joan and the heat. Note to readers: do NOT mix sweltering heat and books on grief. This should be a no-brainer, but Old Buller here thought she could take it.
I FedExed a sample of my comedy to Murfreesboro, TN today. It took everything I had to spell it the way the true spelling requires that it be spelled.
I have been charging up a storm on my credit card getting my dvds out of my house. Now I just need to charge up a storm getting me out of this country.
I am wearing vintage Lilly Pulitzer green and turquoise pants given to me by a Columbia-educated friend I was in love with. She is gone, but her pants remain. I am hoping that the pants will attract a new, Columbia-educated well-connected friend. Don't the wealthy have an eye for one another's things?
Earlier today a black man sitting on a lawn chair yelled to me "Yo fly's undone!"
So we do know that black men sitting on lawn chairs have an eye for open flies.
The line to sum up today? Doing the best I can. The Four Agreements says "always do your best." I think the "always" is a bit much. I think "more often than not" is better.
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