Posts Tagged ‘Dave Attell’

I should’ve worn flats

Sunday, October 25th, 2009

More than once in the last few years, a co-worker or customer would comment to me, “You’re really a tall girl,” and  I’ve always thought I could hear admiration in that statement. It could be my imagination.

It doesn’t really matter though, because the thing of it is, I’m not tall. I’m 5’6″ in bare feet, which is (in the US anyway) “average.” However, in my ubiquitous-at-the-time heels, I’m 5’9″ (give or take an inch).

I still own tons of high-heeled shoes, sandals, and boots. And, by and large, if I’m going out somewhere, I’ll usually wear them. This is a long-winded way of saying that last night I went to see Dave Attell perform, and I wore high-heeled boots.

This will become important later.

So anyway, I was super excited to see him, although I was a wee bit distressed by his abundance of early 20′s, highly inebriated, frat boy-type followers. I know they were there for the Jagermeister and sex jokes, but they’re still…well, not for me.

In fact, the lady who opened for Dave was probably in her late 30′s and recently divorced, and was mentioning that someone recently called her a ‘cougar’ and how incredibly insulting that is. She said, “What does a 40-year old woman want with a 19-year old guy anyway? Listen to him argue for hours about how Nickelback is the best band ever? Drive around all over town in his parent’s Ford Escort picking up his Accutane prescriptions?”

It’s funny because it’s true.

This summer I met a 38-year old (woman) living with a 22-year old (male) and she was so proud of this, and I am proud that I kept my mouth shut…because I was dying to go off in the manner that the comedian did in the paragraph above, except I probably would’ve mentioned Guitar Hero and Red Bull.

So I digress. I got to see Dave live, and he was great (although he has developed a worrisome smoker’s wheeze. I’ve been recently trained in hypnotherapy and can help you with that, Dave. Call me when you’re ready to quit…)  but that’s not the best part.

The best part was that I was included in the act!

So, he starts with this whole thing about “tell me what you’re drinking, and I’ll tell you how your night will end.”

And this woman yells out (in a gruff, long-haul trucker voice), “Whisky.” And he says, “Whoa! Whisky? I didn’t realize we had a young female DA here with us tonight. I tell you what, with whisky you will misinterpret and be insulted by everything everyone says to you. ‘Happy Birthday, Buddy!’ ‘F*ck you. I’ll have any kind of birthday I damn well please.’”

(And it’s so true. Jack Daniels and I go way back, but I’ve had to break it off. I get very unpredictable and occasionally volatile and – of course – unbearably wonderful, but who really needs the circus to come to town more than once a year?)

Me and Dave Attell

Me and Dave Attell. Notice youthful booze-addled buffoon types in background.

So anyway, you get the idea. Some of the idiot frat guys were throwing out (***yawn*** oh-so-predictable) drinks like Jagermeister, Rumplemintz, Schnapps, Cinnamon whisky (Too which Dave said, “I didn’t know Deadwood was on anymore), etc.

So he hits them all with one-liners, and then turns to my section (the far right) and says? “Let’s hear from the ladies!”

And here, to the best of my recollection (and I know I’m missing stuff, but it’s gone from my gray matter, so what are you gonna do?) is the transcript:

Me and seven other people: Noise

Dave: What? Gin?

Me: Gin!

Dave: That’s an old lady drink! You’re drinking Gin? Gin!?!? Gin is a drink that says you’ll head home from here to go spend a quiet evening with your 20 cats.

Someone yelled out a new drink, and he told that he wasn’t done talking to me.

Dave: That’s British. Gin. (Bad British accent), “I’ll have some gin…”  So let me guess, you Limey Lover: Do you have tonic with your gin?

***shaking head no***

Dave: No? No tonic? Just gin?

Me: (Not loudly enough) There were olives in it.

Dave: What’s that, honey?

Me: THERE WERE OLIVES IN IT.

Dave: Olives? Oh! You had it in a fancy glass. You had a gin martini! A martini with olives. That’s a classy drink. A classy drink for a classy lady.

And for a brief moment, I thought I had escaped ridicule, but then then (and I’m paraphrasing here) he suggested something about me ending my night being talked into snorting Ativan off a male….er…member.

But as it happens, he was wrong.

It was Xanax.

p.s.

As you can see in the photo, Dave is not tall. I am very sensitive to the sensitivity (and lesser paycheck when compared to their taller peers) of the vertically challenged man, and that’s kind of all I was saying…  If I had worn flats, he probably would’ve had an inch or two on me and – for just a moment – felt tall.

And I would’ve done that for him. Because I’m nice like that.

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Freaky looking dudes on whom I have crushes

Friday, October 16th, 2009

For those of you out there who aren’t exactly George Clooney, have no fear. There are women who don’t care all that much about that kind of stuff. And I happen to be one of them. Thus, I assume that extrapolating my opinions and making a blanket statement like that is true. Hopefully, for your sake – if you do happen to be a freaky looking dude – it is.

I have had more than one boyfriend refer to us as “Beauty and the Beast” and although, in my recollection, it was not that severe, I am of the belief that who a person is is a hell of a lot more than the package he/she/I comes in. Admittedly, I take pretty good care of my package, but at the end of the day, I strive to have the sum far outweigh the parts.

True, I have a crush on George Clooney – and it is to a large degree because of his looks. However, it’s mostly because he seems to have a good sense of humor and to be, minus the womanizing, a cool guy. Actually, the womanizing would scare the crap out of me in real life, but I don’t know him and this is not ‘real life’ so it’s a moot point.

I can't quite fathom the logic that says "I would rather wear this ratty thing on my head than be bald."

I can't quite fathom the logic that says "I would rather wear this ratty thing on my head than be bald."

Anywho, the inspiration for today’s pointless rambling is that I ran across some article criticizing the latest gorgeous girl dating Adam Duritz of the Counting Crows, and despite the fact that he basically looks like a pudgy, middle aged Jewish guy (especially when you factor in the reality that his hair is a piece. He’s bald, which I personally think would be preferable to the horrific Sideshow Bob wig he prefers…) Nevertheless, I totally get it.

No, he ain’t no beauty queen, but since when does that last anyway? We all get older, and if that’s all you had going for you…then good freaking luck, boring unfunny person with nobody to dance with at the nursing home prom.

On the bright side, it’s never too late!

Go read some books and get a hobby and work on developing a personality tout de suite! Maybe something involving cooking or learning to fix broken toilets?

Back to Adam, the other reality is that he is responsible for what is probably my most favorite song of all time, and that goes a long damn way in my way book.

This is (obviously) not an official video, but it’s by far the least offensive out there. Jose, you can tell us if it’s been translated appropriately.

The worst award went to a young woman with a ton of large piercings and pretty much a close up on her face the whole time.

Not so much.

robinson_sandison500_18241tMoving on, in the next corner we have another musician, The Black Crowes’ Chris Robinson. He’s seen better days – and the business end of a bong a few too many hundred thousand times – but he’s still incredibly cool and such an amazing performer. I’ve had the great good luck to see them live three or four times…and each time my crush is intensified. I think it  has something to do with the way he moves.

And of course his voice.

And the fact that they pretty much never chatter, just jam.

I don’t know what he’d look like under that Chewbacca beard – and it probably ain’t pretty – but the kid he had with Kate Hudson is cute enough, so you never know? Actually, if you go back to the early days of the Crowes, you can catch a glimpse of a young, beardless Chris…but the camera never really pans in and focuses, and there was probably a good reason for that.

I’d also like to make a quick note of gratitude that he’s no longer dressing like a fancy pirate. Good move, Chris.

I love this song. The first time I ever heard it was in Liverpool, played for me by a man who said it reminded him of me.

I can’t argue with the talking to angels part (although I think of them more as guides and had said no such thing to him in that regard), and I certainly am not above telling you I’m an orphan even if you’ve already met my mother. It’s all relative…   (No pun intended.)  On the other hand, I’ve never shot up or whatever sad issue the subject of this tune seems to struggle with. Thankfully.

53179177XX036_Comedy_CentraIn conclusion, rounding out my trifecta of freaky looking dudes on whom I have crushes, is Dave Attell. Dave used to have this show called “Dave Attell Insomniac” where he would stay up all night (duh) and hang out with people who had night shift jobs and crack jokes and generally be spontaneously hilarious.

I couldn’t find a YouTube clip of the time he hung out in a waste treatment plant in Boston, so you’ll have to settle for some standup, posted below.

And in other news…

Hmmmmm….

Is it me, or do these guys all bear a strange resemblance to one another? Like they’re all cousins or something? Or members of the same synagogue?

I think it’s a coincidence, but just to be sure, I may go ahead and end this now and find a so-so looking blond guy to crush on. Suggestions welcome.

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