Archive for June, 2009

Your Grandma used to diddle herself to this dude.

Tony Bennett is no slouch. You’ve heard his name throughout your life, so have your parents, and your parent’s parents. He’s the successful Grandpa you never had. He’s sold over 50 million records worldwide, has timeless hit songs like “I Left my Heart in San Francisco,” and still performs to this day at the ripe age of 82. Sounds impressive right? It is…Until you put him on a stage with Stevie Wonder.

Life is not fair. We all know that. Stevie Wonder is perhaps the most talented individual alive in any field. Entertainment, sports, science, medicine, literature, whatever. If you don’t agree, that’s erroneous, you still get the point.

Even though Stevie dials it back in the beginning, it seems he can’t contain his own genius. It erupts. In the end you’re left thinking “Tony! Why? What’s wrong with your brain? Who talked you into this?”

Shortly after this aired Tony Bennett had a homerun derby with Barry Bonds, played Tiger Woods for skins and had a cook-off with Wolfgang Puck.

Drinking alcohol can lead to bad decisions, but it can also guide you to moments of utter brilliance. This video is an example of the former. My youngest brother, James(the turd), and I have been playing and singing together since I moved to SF. Once you’re hammered, an acoustic guitar is harder to resist than a blow job in a Tijuana strip club. “Forty bucks?! Does it come with a bacon wrapped hot dog?”
The performance below is a second take, and by the end of the song we start losing interest in seriously performing. I’d like to thank John Mayer for writing this song, which we play and sing better than he ever could. If you have any requests, list them in the comments and James and I will play the most amazing rendition you’ve ever seen or heard.

This is the funniest sketch I’ve seen in a long time.

Every once in a while you’ll understand a little bit more about who you are based on where you came from. This is my Pop, half of my genetic equation, George Robert Edmondson. He doesn’t always look like this, sometimes he looks slightly less polished. Let me explain his outfit from the top down.

George Edmondson, or George Clooney? You figure it out.

To start, we have the Yves St. Laurent bifocals with optional self darkening lenses. “Did you notice my glasses change color when I go outside? The only thing I don’t like about them is they say Yves St. Laurent on the sides. Who is that?”

Next, we have the Blue Tooth headset and neck lanyard. This is a great accessory for anyone who is technologically aspirational and borderline retarded. “I’ve lost three Blue Tooths in the past. I don’t know why everyone doesn’t wear one like this!”

Moving on, the obvious white Kirkland Signatures under shirt. This may seem like a solid no nonsense choice, but the second you tuck it into your sweats, you send the world a message; “I’m ready for anything…That doesn’t involve literacy.”

“iphone belt case anyone? No? No takers? How about you sir? I see you’re already wearing a Blue Tooth lanyard and if you add the iphone belt case, you can effectively thwart all potential sexual advances.”

Phat Farm is back, and it’s not just for your baby’s daddy. I bet Russell Simmons never dreamed he’d see his label on a 60 something skinny white man. Is Baby Phat more his style?…Either way, the cream colored sweats and striped waist band haven’t looked better since they were hanging on the clearance rack at Ross.

Thanks to my Pop who willingly posed for this picture. In his defense, the pants were borrowed from my brother, who uses them for chain smoking Benson & Hedges Ultra Light Menthols while guzzling Sugar Free Red Bulls.

On my way to the Wendy's Drive Thru.

This was the first performance in SF without looking at my set notes. It felt better, and I thought I did a decent job with movement but when I rewatched the performance I found myself getting bored. My new goal is to have 5 fluid minutes where I keep momentum going. I think I can do a better job of trying to maintain a higher energy level and improving continuity. I wrote about 15 new minutes of material all about bananas. I never thought about how strange they are. Maybe it’s just me.

Special thanks to Alex Wood, James Edmondson, Brian Ghould and of course, the incomparable Lauren Ching for attending. They are the ones you hear laughing. Let me know if you think a certain joke strikes you as funny or has the potential to be funny. Thanks for watching!

Crazy Mo’, or Moser The Poser, is my sister-in-law. We all got lucky(not like that) when my oldest brother, Mark, met her at Cal Poly, San Luis Obispo. Monique has had no problem holding her own in our family, which isn’t easy. The first time she came over for dinner we knew we had a contender on our hands when she went back for thirds. She’s hip, she’s cool, and best of all, she still parties like the Alpha Phi she once was. Maybe my favorite thing about Monique is her ability to say and do totally inappropriate things.

This video is a mini highlight reel from a recent party in Mt. View.

If Barack Obama is black, then my girlfriend, Lauren, is Asian…Specifically, Chinese. This of course means that she lives up to many stereo types about Asian people and I got news for you gang, they’re all true!

Nails are free. Sucky sucky will cost you.

When Lauren isn’t lighting off homemade fire crackers or sharpening ninja stars, she can be found in the kitchen, where she spends the majority of her time. She has a giant wok she bought in China Town for “two dolla,” and is constantly frying up everything from rice to neighborhood cats. She trots around the house in tiny wooden flip flops and still practices the ancient art of foot binding. She thinks it’s the height of eroticism, and I don’t have the heart to tell her that I like my feet unbroken and naturally formed. “You so rike my tiny feets huh? I do juss fa you.”

Lauren accidentally pulled my finger while she was filing.

If you’re lucky enough to have an Asian woman in your life, prepare to be treated like a king. But buyer beware, that level of service comes with a pretty hefty price tag. I shower Lauren with a barrage of designer(bootleg) purses, oversized sunglasses, and an assortment of yellow gold jewelry. I also have to pay for some of her extended family’s needs, including, but not limited to car modifications, video game systems, hair gel, colored contacts, black market electronics(cable boxes), ping pong paddles, denim hemmings, and the list goes on.

Baby's nails can't be rough, they need a buff.

Lauren loves San Francisco. Though the cost of living here is quite high, Lauren finds a way to spend less than 25% of her earnings. She’s a ruthless shopper with a sharp tongue. “Dass too much! You crasey! I not stupeh, you stupeh, stupeh!” There are also plenty of passengers on public transportation that she can push, elbow and step on without saying “excuse me” to. She hates the homeless, but loves taking their change and empty cans.

All in all, I can see why David Bowie wrote a song about them. “Oh oh oh ohoooooo, little China girl.”