Terrorism Vs. "So Far No Good"

Terrorism is a terrible thing, but not so terrible when you have Joe List's CD, "So Far No Good" and a video from Funny Cakes!

"Last Chance Mr. Giggles"

Here are a few promos I helped edit for a reality television pilot, Last Chance Mr. Giggles, Produced by Jamisonkane Entertainment.

8 comedians with 200 years experience between them FINALLY get their shot at TV success. Voice over by Colin Quinn.

Halloween Horror

Halloween Horror 

New video from Miracle Worker's Comedy. We put a lot of time into the story-line and concept. Probably going to make it a feature film by next year.

Joe List has a new CD "So Far No Good" available on iTunes!  Check out the 21 second in-depth documentary we shot about the promotion of the album.

Jewin' It

Dear Michael,

(For some reason this picture feels really anti-semitic to me. I don't know if that makes me self-hating or if Jews are so ridiculous looking that when someone portrays us accurately it looks like they're insulting us.)

Someone at a show last night said I look very “Jewy." I immediately felt insulted. Do you ever get that? I don't think you look as Jewy as I do, and by that I mean your nose isn't as big as mine, you don't hunch over as much as I do, and your hair is shorter and therefore less fro-licious. Although you do often have a beard which bumps up your Jew factor.

It feels anti-semitic just to talk about Jewy-ness. I think that happens for three reasons:

1.) I was raised, like many Jews, to think that anyone non-Jewish who talks about anything Jewish is anti-semitic. My mom constantly tells me about a new person or country that’s anti-Semitic. So now, simple phrases like "I work with a Jew" sounds like "I work with a Jew and that's my least favorite co-worker," especially if the speaker has blond or no hair. Even, "I find Jews attractive" sounds like a trap.

Because I don't really practice any sort of Judaism except for neurosis (and I leave work early for holidays like Shemini Atzeret), I don't consider myself Jewish enough to talk about Jews without sounding anti-semitic.

Fun Fact: Once this kid called me a stupid Jew (which might have been more because I used to foul a lot when I played basketball and less because he hated Jews. Years later I realized it was just one of many reasons to not live in Ohio, but I’ve also tried to be less stupid so I can give Jews a good name. To be fair though, I don’t think he was saying Jews are stupid, but rather, when compared to most Jews, I’m one of the stupid ones).

2.) Jews, at least the ones who fulfill Jewish stereotypes, are weird looking in my book (my 95,000 word manuscript "Jews Look Weird" is still looking for a publisher. If you are interested please contact my literary agent. His name is Dan and he can be reached at my personal email address). So many of us stereotypical Jews have larger, more bumpy noses than other races of people, and a bunch, myself included, hunch over while looking like we don't understand the world and how it can be filled with so many questions/burdens. So when someone says "you look Jewy" it sounds like they're saying, "you look weird right now. You're making me uncomfortable. Stop doing that."

3.) I forget the third reason. I think I probably just lumped it in with the other two.

How I got to be so somewhat anti-semitic
I have a “love/hate/am confused by” relationship with Judaism. I was raised Jewish, but in North Carolina, Virginia, and Ohio so until the age of 14 I was under the impression you were only allowed to have 4 Jews in one town at a time. You could go to neighboring towns and meet up with other Jews, but only on Friday nights, Saturday mornings, and for Sunday school.

The Wonder Years
I didn’t learn much about Judaism in Sunday school. In third grade my Sunday school teacher was a college kid/pro-wrestling enthusiast who said I looked like a “wise old owl” because I was more interested in learning about the Torah than analyzing who’d win a cage match between Ric Flair and the Undertaker (The way it was explained to me in class was the two would fight but then Triple X and Hollywood Hogan would show up with a can of whoop-ass, leading chaos to ensue, similar to the story of Sodom and Gomorrah).

P.S. Getting called a "wise old owl" by another Jew is a pretty dismal feeling. It's kind of like the kettle saying the pot is nerdy even though the kettle is 15 years older than the pot and should be acting more mature than a Junior High bully from a 1950s PSA.

For the Jew holiday (I don't think I can say that so you shouldn't either), Tu BiSh'vat, Jews plant a tree to honor the memory of a loved one or friend. Our teacher had us decide whether we wanted to plant a tree for our old rabbi who had just passed away or for Andre the Giant. My class chose Andre the Giant, which was ok because I really enjoyed the Princess Bride.

vs =

When I moved to Pennsylvania I became friends with minions of Jews and joined a youth group, but most of us focused less on praying and more on the Woody Allen/ultimate Frisbee/Guster aspects of the religion.

Becoming a Man Jew
Many Jews embrace their Judaism during their Bar Mitzvah or Confirmation. However, the most Jewish I’ve ever felt was when I moved to Boston and my good friend Tom introduced me to people as “The Jew.” I wasn't just Jewish, I was the sole representative for those looking to find out why Jews keep kosher or which holocaust jokes were too offensive to tell a Jew.

Jew Jew Believe In Magic
I tried to rejuvenate my interest in Judaism when I went on a Birthright trip to Israel, but it rained for 8 of the days and snowed several times while I was there so I don’t know if God even wants me to be Jewish.

However, I haven't gotten laid in so long that I've started believing I can't just focus on improving my personality and physical appearance. I need to start networking with some powerful allies, specifically God. It may be possible that I haven't gotten any hoo-ha because I didn't believe in the almighty and visit his house every week to pray to him and listen to stories about how he tried to trick a guy into killing his own son (the other reason may be that I call sex "hoo-ha").

So I'm starting to become a little more religious, or at least spiritual. This means that instead of wearing a yarmulke on my head because I think it looks ridiculous, I just reposition my desk in the "money corner" so I can attract the positive frequencies flowing throughout the cosmos and inspire the universe to smile back at me.

So In Delusion...
I guess I shouldn't get so defensive when someone calls me "Jewy." I should be happy that guy's sending a message to God that I'm trying harder and deserve a reward. Just like when I learned guitar and joined a band, I'm getting Jewier mostly to get laid.

The Fifth Dentist: New Videos

Helped shoot, edit, and act in these videos for the fifth dentist website.

"My Friends Think I'm Funny"

I also edited promos for the reality game show, My Friends Think I'm Funny.

Everyone knows someone as funny as "that guy on TV." JamisonKane Entertainment will give them that shot to say "My friends think I'm funny and now so do you." But there's a catch.  If the set isn't going so well their "friends" decide whether or not to pull them off the stage. Who will survive? Hosted by Wali Collins

The Andy Kaufman Award

Entered The Andy Kaufman Award with my submission video: Bobby "The Riotman" Dirshon.

Old Broads

Happy Rosh Hashanah last week everyone who's Jewish. Don't worry, I talked to God and he/she/it said it was ok if I skipped synagogue this year so long as I wrote a couple blogs in which I insult people.

Yesterday I was running late for a show and got stuck in standstill foot traffic in the Union Sq subway. A breakdancing group had gathered such a large audience it was hard to get around. I was annoyed, until an elderly lady in front huffed and said, "This is a public nuisance!" Then she looked around for support from the rest of us who were trying to move forward, like she was starting a revolution, like that was her Che Guevara moment and vegans with dreadlocks everywhere would wear her image on their smelly shirts. But everyone was just annoyed she slowed the line down and I almost laughed in her face for saying something was a "public nuisance."

That has to be so frustrating, to be that old lady. She has valid points, but delivers them in that outdated 1920's kind of way that makes people laugh in her face.

People could get murdered, detectives could show up, and she'd say, "These hooligans need to stop lousing things up with their shenanigans!"

"Thanks Mr. Wilson. We were about to catch whoever was behind this triple homicide, but now we're satisfied with laughing hysterically. Let us know if you see any more hoopla or rigamarole."

That being said, I'm sure if a hot girl had said "this is a public nuisance" I would've laid down in front of tanks to end the existence of breakdancing.

It's My Fucked Up Head and I'll Cry (or Not) If I Want To

I've been to a few funerals where I haven't cried thinking about those RIPing. It's weird because I'm pretty awesome at crying when it comes to movies and even some TV shows. One time I was watching Tracy Morgan in a faux sentimental scene on 30 Rock and I welled up and got chokey. That was uncomfortable. He was saying how thankful he was for his posse who always had his back and then he made an extremely forced sad face and I felt a genuine tear building in my eye. I almost slapped myself for making me feel so awkward. "That's what you get for crying at jokes."

More recently I was driving home, listening to Marc Maron's WTF podcast and Lisa Lampanelli mentioned the movie "Field of Dreams" and how everyone loses it during the scene when they play catch. I lost it in my car. I didn't even have to watch the movie. I heard someone give a one second synopsis of a scene and I had streams down my cheeks, yet when someone from my extended family dies I could care less. I guess that makes me an ultra sensitive dick. There's got to be some kind of middle ground: I should be able to cry at least a little when someone I'm related to dies and maybe during a movie dealing with the holocaust ("Indiana Jones" not included, although I'd let "Inglorious Basterds" slide ).

I do feel guilty about not feeling sad at funerals though so what I'm going to do now is imagine dead relatives within the context of movies I've cried during. "Aunt Betty, I'll miss you. I still remember the time our plane crashed in the Andes and I had to eat your butt cheeks to stay alive." Or "Great Uncle Gary, it's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault..." and of course, "Oh Cousin Jackie, don't call me Shirley."

Comedy Spillage Radio

Hi Hirshonoids,

Every now and again you can hear me in the form of various characters on Comedy Spillage Radio with host, Shawn Cornelius.

Check it out here!

Love,

Myself

Meditatin'

Hey meditation, you're cheaper than medication and most people from monks to psychologists say you can bring me to a higher place and make me happier. But when I listen to the gurus on your babbling brook and ocean waves CDs, they all speak with this soft, slow monotone and sound dangerously close to brain dead. If those are my role models, are you saying I need to have a lobotomy to be happy? I'm not motivated to reach a higher consciousness when it's just going to make me sound like Mr. Rogers meets HAL, the evil computer from 2001 Space Odyssey. I'm not reaching a higher awareness. I'm getting the dazed and confused brain of Spicoli from Fast Times. Congratulations meditation, you've found a way to make me a pot head without the fun and social benefits of smoking pot with friends. That being said, I'm going to continue to try you out as you and your gurus help me fall asleep at night.

What Women Don't Want

Regularly I learn new things that women don't like. This past weekend while in Hartford, Connecticut I discovered that when a women asks you to guess her bra size, she doesn't like it when you just squint your eyes, plant your nose within a millimeter of her breasts and stare for a good three minutes without saying anything. Bobbing your head while cupping the air around her breasts with your hands doesn't seem to arouse her either.

Dear women:

Please don't ever ask me to guess your bra size again. I'd rather guess how fat I think you are or the number of hairs you have in your mustache.

* * * *

Dear salesmen who travel around to aviation trade shows around the country and don't understand how a guy like me could possibly lack confidence:

Please don't try and set me up with another 6"2 former high school basketball star who greets me with a pained expression on her large face when you introduce me as "the funny man" and then forces me to guess her bra size. I know you mean well, but you're making me feel like an asshole.

Here's bachelorette photo I crashed:

More blogs coming soon!

I'm gonna start blogging again soon. I can feel it.

Tonight I'll be doing some talking in a comedic fashion at O'Hanlon's on 14th and 1st ave around 8pm. And tomorrow, Sunday, April 17th I'll be performing more comedic hijinx at the Broadway Comedy Club at 9:30pm.

Keith and the Girl

You can hear me and my funny friend, Micah Sherman, on this episode of the hilarious podcast, "Keith and the Girl." Micah wants to have sex with a transvestite to help complete his bucket list and I talk about how I'm not a fan of drinking without women.

Good Afternoon, Sleeping Beauty

Did some shows in Massachusetts this weekend and so I stayed at my parents' house. It’s a felony to wake up after 8 at my parents’ house. They will do everything in their power to make sure you don't sleep past 8, like the cops are going to show up, rip you out of bed, and arrest you for relaxing and enjoying your life.

I'm finally away from the chaos in New York City, lying in bed in the suburbs...they're yelling on speaker phone, not even outside calls, just my dad talking to my mom. They're smashing dishes against the floor, taking lessons on the electric guitar, performing step aerobics all over the house.

Then when I have the audacity to walk downstairs after sleeping for less than five hours, they say "oh it’s so nice of you to join us sleeping beauty.” Or they call me a “lazy bum” depending on how offensive they feel. Sleeping beauty had someone kiss her awake. Waking up to you playing broadway musicals on surround sound speakers while gossiping about the politics at your day school is not exactly a fairy tale wakeup.

One time I woke up at 9:30 and my grandmother goes, “well good afternoon.” Usually it has to be after noon to be afternoon. Just because I’m out 5 hours after you go to bed doesn’t mean afternoon gets a new definition.

Point is, I'm cranky right now.