DADDY'S HOME!!

Plan "B" is back folks!  It's been a long time... I'm sorry I left you... without another dope blog to step to...

I'm glad to be back blogging!  I feel like there's been so much going on in my life and in the world that I could have blogged about!!   Oil spills, internet censorship, big brother expansion, out of control media, racism!!  Not to mention adventures with my piece of shit car!!  Sooo much material.  Fact of the matter is I've been trying to land a job.  Surprisingly, being a rebel doesn't come with health insurance.  At the time, some people felt that the opinions and humor in my blogs weren't very 'professional' and that it'd be wise for me to take the blog down until I landed a job.  I reluctantly agreed because hey, if there's anyone who knows about how internet content can get you into trouble with employers....its me!!!

So now I'm back!  I didn't get that job but that's their loss.  For the record, people who join social networking sites like facebook etc with the intention of gathering personal information on people and using that information against them is PATHETIC.  I know there's a few stalking type haters reading this blog on the regular, you know who you are... GET OFF PLAN "Bs" DICK!

Now that we've got that out of the way lets talk about some business.   Recently, I began a crusade against the new Craig Kilborn talk show, The Kilborn File.  I hate this show with a passion! Not because Kilborn is a hack and the jokes are lame, but because it took over the 7pm time slot on FOX.  That time slot has been held down by Simpsons re-runs for what feels like decades and was the heart of my evening TV lineup.  6:30 TMZ, 7 Simpsons, 7:30 Office.  It was a beautiful thing!  All of the sudden, FOX decides to throw this 30 minute comedy turd in the mix and ruins everything!  Now I'm wandering the dial looking for a solid 7pm replacement show and all I'm left with is Jeopardy.  Don't get me wrong, I love Jeopardy but when they put up categories like '19th century British Authors' I'm changing the channel.  

Damn you Kilborn and your hacky half hour!  What talk show is a half hour??  When you add in commercial time the show only ends up being like 15 minutes.  And he struggles to get through that! This show is the comedy equivalent to a stillborn baby... and just like a stillborn baby this show needs to be flushed down the toilet.   In order to get the flushing process moving I've been bombarding The Kilborn File message board with all kinds of harsh critiques. I like to get in 2 or 3 comments a day, I've got some spare time.  The moderator is always refreshing the page so a lot of the comments get deleted but that only fuels my fire! My endgame is to get the show canceled and my contingency plan is have it pushed to a different time slot.  I encourage all Plan "B" readers to join my crusade by going to www.thekilbornfile.com and leaving a hilariously rude message for good old "Kilby".   Tell em Plan "B" sent chya!

Knock Knock!

Hey everyone!  Plan "B" here, fresh off suicide watch since returning that $700.  Time to move on.

I got a knock on my door this afternoon from a US census worker!  I was shocked and amazed to say the least.  I don't know about you, but I didn't fill out my census forms.  Fuck that!  I can't even pay my bills on time, what makes you think I'm gonna go out of my way to mail you some retarded census?  Time came and went, I tossed that shit in the trash and never gave it a second thought.  My buddy was insistent that government workers would come knocking on my door one day to get census information.  I laughed him off.  "There's no WAY census people will come here." Here?  To this little apartment, in this little town?  It just seemed like such a gigantic waste of time.  I never thought they'd actually come but part of me wanted to see if someone would really come knocking on my door.  Sure enough!

I had a ton of dishes piled up in the sink and they were starting to get smelly.  It was from the bowls of chocolate cheerios I'd been eating.  A few of the bowls had some left over milk in them, they were sitting in the sink for a few days and they started to get funky.  Finally I decided to clean em.  Just as I start to hit my dish washing stride I hear a knock at the door.  "wtf??" I thought. "Who is it!?" I yell.  "United States Census worker sir..."  I sneak a peek through the blinds on the kitchen window.  There's a middle age lady with black rimmed glasses standing in front of my door wearing a census worker bag over her shoulder, holding a clip board.  My hands were wet, I was cooking some dinner, I was taking down a monster pile of dishes I didn't want to deal with this shit!  "Come back later I'm in the middle of something!" I yelled.  She says "You never returned your survey sir that's why I'm here."  Dramatically I say "well I don't know where you're from young lady but stamps don't grow on trees around here!"  "It'll only take a moment sir."  UGH!

I opened the door with a real attitude, like I was in the middle of something really important.  The lady seemed flustered at first.  Probably because I answered the door in a tight muscular tank top showcasing my amazing body.  I couldn't blame her.  She asks if she can get the survey information from me now.  "What if I say no?'  I smugly asked her.  She tells me it's the law that I participate in the survey and if I don't I could be arrested.  I laughed.  "You gonna arrest me!? You got some handcuffs in that bag?"  There was a moment of awkward silence once I finished laughing.  I could tell she wasn't going to be any fun, so I told her to get it over with so I can "go back to what I was doing."  She takes a census form out of her bag, just like the one I threw in the garbage weeks ago.  She begins to fill it out on her own which I found odd.  Besides my name and telephone number,  the only questions she asked me were 'do you live here alone?' and 'do you consider yourself to be of spanish descent?'  "Are you kidding??"  I asked.  "I'm sorry I gotta ask!"  She finished up the rest pretty quickly.  "Was that so bad..." She had a little attitude in her tone, I could sense it.  How dare she!

The entire process was pretty simple actually, I was just being a dick and making things harder because I could!  You never know what you're gonna get when you come knocking on my door!  Plus, I like to make solicitors earn it!  The whole thing reminded me of when I used to get other people to do my homework for me in high school.  They'd fill out all the answers and I just put my name on the top!  "Yo, you got that homework!  Next time dont be using pencil, use some blue ink thats all I got!"  What a joke.  The information she got was so basic she probably could have gotten it with some savvy facebook stalking.  Trust me on dat!

A run for your money

Today felt like any other Monday.  I woke up around 11:30.  I had a bowl of cereal. I watched the news.  I surfed the internet.  I went for my daily run. That's when things got... interesting.  

Like I said, it was a pretty normal day.  I was jogging my normal route making great time.  Beats were blasting, my stride was strong and my breathing was controlled.  I was feeling good.  As I push through the half way mark of my route I look down and spot something out of the ordinary.  A discarded wallet!  I immediately stop running to investigate the contents of this mystery wallet.  And wouldn't ya know it, it's STUFFED with cash!  So much so, that the wallet itself couldn't fold in all the way.  STUFFED with cash! 

Hmmm, what's Plan "B" to do????  Should I leave the wallet where I found it in hopes that this person might come back to look for it???  Should I pocket the cash and leave the wallet??  I decided that I'd take the wallet with me for "safe keeping"and I'd make my decision after I gave a thorough count of the money. 

The rest of my jog went like a breeze.  My mind was focused on the dilemma of finding a cash filled wallet and not on the pain of running.  "Is this a sign from God", I thought?   "A gift perhaps for his favorite struggling comedian.  Surely he knows my plight, it must be!  That's it! I'll keep the money!  But wait... what if it's a test of my moral character?  Taking the money could lead to a disastrous wave of bad karma, that's the last thing I need!  No, I'll return the wallet because its the right thing to do!"  

Finally I get back to my workout center and start to riffle through the cash.  First count totaled $680 and was confirmed after my second count.  I couldn't believe it!  I checked the rest of the wallet.  Driver's license, credit card, BJ's card, some bullshit papers, 2010 NYC PBA cards, a card with contact info.  

This type of situation isn't new to Plan "B".  A few years ago I was in Atlantic City with a bunch of goons and found $800 in a bank envelope on the floor of the Tropicana.  I kept that shit and BALLED OUT in AC!!  Another time I was getting food at a Taco Bell in NYC and a person forgot $200 on the counter.  I bagged that shit too!  I never gave a fuck about the person who's money it was.  I need money!  If someone is careless enough to lose/misplace/forget their money in a public place then they deserve to get GOT. That's just the natural order of life! 

But this wasn't the same kind of situation.  In those situations the money was faceless.  I didn't know who's it was or where it came from and I didn't care.  This time the money had an identity.  A latino man named Erik. Who was Erik? A stupid muthafucker who dropped a wallet with $700 on my running route, that's who!   Maybe he was some jackass mexican landscaper who just got money from a client and was on his way to give it to his boss but the wallet fell out of his pocket.  There was no way of knowing.  I was going to have to make a decision.  

I placed a phone call to a number that was listed on the contact information card inside the wallet.  Erik picked up the call and I told him that I found his wallet.  He sounded relieved.   We agreed to meet at his house because it was close to where I lived and I knew the area. 

As I pulled up to the address I immediately began to regret my decision.  Erik had a nice home on a quiet street with a small sail boat in the drive way and a great view of the Hudson river.  Definitely not the type of house where you'd find a mexican day laborer and 14 of his family members living in.   "OK, whatever" I thought.  A minute later Erik pulls into the drive way in a shinny new Lexus.  "you gotta be fucking kidding me!".   He greets me with a hand shake and sings my praises for returning his wallet.  I tell him through my forced smile that he's lucky and next time he should be more careful with his cash.  Turns out he owns a successful restaurant in town! "Grrrreat!!" He offers me some cash as a reward for finding his wallet.  I declined his offer, "Erik, if I wanted your money I would have taken the $680 in the wallet."  Again, he thanked me and I got into my car.  As I'm about to drive off he comes to my window and tells me that any time I go to his restaurant he'd 'take care' of me.  He also insisted I take a 50 for my trouble.  I couldn't even look at this guy.  I just took it and bounced.

Yes I returned the money and yes I feel like an asshole.  How do you give away $700!?!?  Especially when you have no job!?  This guy was no mexican landscaper struggling to feed his family! He was an affluent latino restauranteur who drives a lexus!  I'm the struggling mexican!!!

Comedy Swag

..., Oh HI!  Plan "B" here with another super blog update!  I'm sitting on my deck on a beautiful afternoon watching TV.  That's the ultimate goal for anyone in life, outside TV.   Its like you can be lazy but also feel like you're getting something accomplished because you're not indoors.

It was an interesting week of standup comedy for The Plan.   Comedy swag was at an all time low after a BRUTAL set the week prior.  I don't know what happened but I just went Michael Richards on a majority black crowd.  It started with a stereotype and ended with an N bomb!  Wow.  I had a set list ready to go but it was unusual that there were so many black people in the crowd so I made a reference to it and it DIED.  I got boo'd!  Boo'd!  I've been doing standup comedy for 7 years and i've NEVER been boo'd.  Amazing right?  Once that happened I got thrown off, stunned, like a boxer who gets caught with stiff jab.  I staggered around and went into 'heel' mode, where I just want to be the villain and make everyone hate me.  And they did, deservedly so...


{how perfect is this pic??}

Bombing like that is equivalent to being a hiker who gets stranded in the woods because he fell off a cliff and broke his leg.  The break is so bad that bone is piercing through the skin.  At first you're disoriented, like 'what happened?',  then you become aware to the fact that you're injured but you don't know how bad it is yet.  The adrenaline is flowing so you cant really feel the pain... but when it starts to dull and you look down at your mangled leg the pain is INTENSE!  It sucks.

Bombing is a part of comedy and you'd be a fool to think that you can ever avoid it.  The only way to get over the feeling of having a dog shit set is by getting up and having a good set.  or a mediocre set.  or a set where you don't get boo'd.  The point is, dont give up... but if you're going on stage alot and getting boo'd, give up.


So my comedy swag isnt at full capacity but its crawling out of the basement.

Plan "B" would like to take a moment out right know to acknowledge another fellow freedom fighting comic.  A like minded gent who is anti NWO.  My dog Johnny T!   The past few weeks when I see Johnny T at the Village Lantern after our show, a few comics get into heated NWO conversations that gets loud and animated!  It's awesome.  If you think Plan "B" is on some next shit then Johnny T might scare you!  He's like Plan "B" but actually backs up his rhetoric.  For instance he's going to a rally near Columbia to protest Obama's citizenship, I'm going to the driving range!

WTF?????????

Smells like a blog

Whatup.

Plan "B" laid up on a friday night with the crazy nasal congestion.  I don't know if it's a 'cold' or allergies but my snotbox clogged up!  It's such a pain in the ass.  Superman has kryptonite, Werewolves have silver bullets, and Plan "B" has nasal congestion.  Not being able to breath through my nose is maddening!!  It frustrates me so much!  There's nothing I enjoy more, then a good deep breath of fresh air... aaaahhhhhh....Shout out to the city of San Francisco, some of the best 02 (oxygen) these lungs have ever tasted! 

I can remember have nostril issues since back in the day.  I got hooked on nasal spray early.  It was clear that remedies like Vicks, or humidifiers were useless against this impenetrable wall of mucus... so I stepped to the spray.  Started out with Neosenepheren original, then moved up to the longer lasting 6 hour spray, finally graduated to the 12 hour Afrin where I remain to this day.  My nose is mad hollowed out from all the years of that shit and I know its not good for me but I NEED IT!!  I'm a fiend for that nasal spray when the time comes.... I'll suck yo dick! 

I feel like the sense of smell is highly under rated as a sense.  Everyone wants to See, Touch, Taste things but Smell some how gets over looked. Even Hear gets more love then Smell which is ridiculous! What good are all the spices of Life if you can't smell them??  Think about the smell of buffalo wings, mmm. Did your nostrils flare? Mine did! Think about the smell of fresh cut grass...ahhh.  Think about the smell of a pair of brand new Jordans... marijuana, a pizza place, an orange, a crisp fall night, horse shit, the ocean, a dollar bill, dirty pussy, your breath, blacktop, a stripper, your bf/gf, popcorn, your own ass!  Smelling things is awsome guys! The whiff of a certain smell can spark a cherished memory or ignite a dormant emotion.  When something like that occurs, its what i call "aromatic".   That's the combination of "aroma" and "cinematic".  GET IT???  

Hmmmm ???

I see these things all the time!!! Not sure whats going on here but i intend to find out!