CHRIS COEN

I was reading recently that Roger Waters of Pink Floyd fame has decided the Palestinians are the cause of the day and announced he will not perform in Israel anymore.  This is monumental, since I’m sure Israelis are all tight in the pants to see a 70 year old rock the stage.  Plus I’m sure they’re excited to get into huge groups, with the whole rockets and suicide bombing thing.  I know if I was a Jew in the Middle East, I would avoid huge groups of other Jews like the plague.  Easy target.  I also doubt a ton of Palestinians are blaring drug induced Pink Floyd in solidarity.  I like your music, but come on.  What a boob.

Well, I might not be famous, but I am going to take a strong stance.  I refuse to tell jokes in Iran.  Mostly because I protest me getting beheaded once they hear my foul infidel mouth.  I know this is a bold stance, but I think it’s high time I went out on a limb.  I feel bad for the hundreds of thousands of Iranians that will never get to see my act, however I find without a head, I have trouble telling jokes.

I guess the trigger for this blog is the mountain of a pimple on my nose.  It made me realize at the age of 18, I saw a back hair pop up.  Oh well, I thought to myself, at least that means I am done with getting zits!  Now I have both.  This shows me high school kids know nothing.

I began to think of other nuggets of dumb that invaded my head then.  Example – I used to think after college, my degree actually would mean something.  Strike one!  I also had an idea back then I would play college football.  I was technically on the team and I practiced a lot, it was the whole playing part that didn’t work out.  I remember after the season, I went to see the coach to tell him I was done and the look on his face was, “You were on the team?”

I think the stupidest thing I thought back then, though, is that after drinking a couple beers and playing the guitar, I was good.  Then after a few more I thought I could sing.  I wish John Belushi was there to recreate that guitar smashing scene from Animal House, only I wish he would have smashed it on my face when I tried to play AC/DC on a BC Rich acoustic.  At least I wasn’t playing a keytar or a recorder.  Someone may have put a hit out on me.

I did a benefit show Saturday night.  It was a packed house…actually a packed patio, it was outdoors.  It’s always nice to have a full crowd, even if some pieces of shit wouldn’t chip in ticket money.  Nothing says I’m useless as a human when you stick around for a free comedy show without throwing a few bucks to help fight cancer.

The show went pretty well, despite a pretty rowdy bunch.  One guy in particular didn’t originally come to the show, but paid his money and sat at the bar.  About five minutes in, he offered up a shot to me.  “Sure, but I’m kind of busy right now.”  After about five minutes, he piped up again.  “I got you that shot!”  Again, I’m busy, but I needed to shut this drunk up.  I walked over, he handed me the shot and whispered (loudly) “You need to wrap it up!”  Thanks, buddy.  We took the shot, then he slurred, but with emphasis.  “Seriously, you should wrap it up.”

Well, I didn’t wrap it up, on principle and he left.  Apparently, I shouldn’t have interrupted his normal Saturday routine of being drunk and listening to the same fifteen songs on the bar’s jukebox.  Perhaps I should have done some jokes about sleeveless tees or passing out at the bar to relate to him.  My bad, friend.

I had to run to the post office, which is always a great time.  There was a line (surprise) full of old women and non-English speakers.  Oh, and the A/C was off or broken, so the smell was great.  One old lady in front of me had sat in what appeared to be cat shit.  To top it off, only one man was working and the lady in line, who was at least 112, was writing a check for stamps, which one can buy anywhere in the country.  Especially at the automatic stamp machine, which was without a line and six feet behind me.  I hate this place.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I heard a middle aged lady on her cell phone.  I would say she was engaged in a conversation, but that’s assuming the other person could actually speak, because she was nearly screaming into the phone and not stopping long enough to elicit a response.  “It’s hot in here!  It’s like a sauna!  Why is it so hot in here?  I think the A/C is off!  Man, this is warm!”  Thanks, no one else noticed until you said something, stupid.  Plus, we got it after the first two references you made to the heat.  I actually wish it was hotter, then you might leave or die or something more pleasant than piercing my ears with your general and dull observations.

This went on for fifteen minutes, the topic being her son/hatchling picking out a dorm.  She made sure the person on the other line, and by default us, knew he was an honor student.  In case it wasn’t clear, she mentioned it about seven times.  As I was leaving (I paid cash – pay attention Granny), I heard her put down the phone and ask the one, sweaty and almost lifeless worker why it was so hot in there.  He looked at her and said, “A/C quit.”  “Are they going to fix it?”  He stared at her for five seconds, rage building, and said, “Can I help you?”  I walked out, but I like to think he did something cool, like flag her mail as full of explosives.  Or filled it with explosives and marked return to sender.

Predictions for the near future –

Kris Jenner is caught selling drugs to children when she backs out of her deal with Satan to make her family famous for doing nothing useful for society.  Ironically, the deal should have voided because anyone that worthless clearly has no soul.

Lindsay Lohan is so depressed from her latest Hollywood bomb that she starts doing drugs and goes to jail for a repeat offense.  Due to the harshness of California’s laws, she has to spend FOUR DAYS in jail.  She is released and amazingly makes an even worse movie than Canyons.  She is so depressed she starts doing drugs and…

Flo from Progressive starts a turf war with the guitar duo from Geico which ends in the violent death of all three.  America declares a national holiday.  There is much celebrating.

Justin Bieber almost runs out of ways to be a horribly annoying douche, but converts to Scientology.  Tom Cruise then marries him, driving thousands of women to suicide.

Fox comes out with another animated series.  It is so unfunny, that the ink used to make it goes on strike and the show is cancelled.

Weed.  Weed.  Weed.  This movie and the whole series was clearly written by potheads.  No wonder they picked James Franco for this movie.  Actually, I take that back, I’m thinking acid or something harder.

The plot is that Oz is a circus magician, gets caught in a tornado and he winds up in Oz – yes, Oz goes to Oz.  Not to be confused with the prison show from HBO, that one was a little less family friendly, with all the shanking and man on man action.  Somewhere, a lunatic is running into a funnel cloud naked hoping he goes to magic world, then he gets ripped to pieces.  Anyways, he hits on a witch, then she gets mad when he doesn’t instantly marry her and turns green.  Reminds me of an ex-girlfriend.

Oz is just a con artist, but uses his tricks to convince everyone he’s legit.  In other words, he’s a congressman.  As this movie goes on, I don’t know how the word midget is offensive, but munchkin is fine.  Seems a little off.  He uses his BS skills and saves the day.  In total, I give it a five out of ten if you’re coherent and an eight if you’re under the influence.  To be fair, just about everything gets an eight if you’re under the influence.  I have fun at Target after nine beers.