Prophetic Dreams

Maybe they aren’t prophetic dreams, but just some Law of Attraction type business going on.

Either way, the other night I had a dream that I was running away from someone who was trying to kill me. I was in a neighborhood trying to hide behind swing-sets and bushes and chairs. I wasn’t me though, I was an older actress who I’ve seen but could not figure out what her name was and what movies she was from.

I woke up irritated because I knew I couldn’t even cite a movie to try and look her up.
I got up, went downstairs and after a little bit I was on my laptop scrolling through Facebook. Late Night with Seth Meyers had posted a video of an interview with Paula Pell, who I think is one of the funniest and under-appreciated comedy writers in the free world. Paula had never down an interview like that with Seth before so I watched it. She talked about an upcoming movie she had written, starring Amy Poehler, Tina Fey, and a few other familiar names. The only name that wasn’t familiar was Dianne Wiest. So, being someone who needs to know everything all the time, I looked her up.


I can’t help but think that in a parallel universe I AM DIANNE WIEST.

What do you think? What does it all mean?


There’s Something About Barry

Well, hello there.

Today is Winkel Wednesday, but I thought I’d share a very, very, very, rough first draft of a sketch I wrote. 

This is my second time around taking the Second City sketch writing course, so the stuff that comes out is usually unfinished and following a specific set of guidelines. Most of the time the sketches aren’t even funny but it’s about the process and building a foundation to lay the funnies on. So here it is!

Mr. Winkel will be making an appearance later tonight. Tehe.



There’s Something About Barry

1/31/14 (Draft #1)



Barry- late 30’s

Paul –late 30’s


                               (Paul’s living room.)


There ya’ go, Paul. TV’s all set. Good as new, and that’s the Good as New TV Repair Service guarantee.

(Puts tools back in tool bag.)


Thanks again, Barry. Picture looks great. Good to see you again too.

(Shakes Barry’s hand, goes to show him door.)


My pleasure! Gosh, What a great screen, picture’s crystal clear.


(Nervous chuckle) Yeah! Thanks, we really enjoy it. So, let me show you the do-


Ah, would ya’ look at that, the game just started! 

(Sets tools bag down.)


Oh right, it’s about that time. (Checks watch.) I almost forgot, good thing I called you guys when I did.




Yeah, perfect! Almost like a dee-vine intervention, as those hocus pocus, voodoo, witch-card readers would say.


(Trying to be pleasant.) Uhh…yeah, I guess. Well, I don’t want to hold you up.


Now, don’t be crazy, Paul! You aren’t holding me up one bit. (Plops down on Paul’s recliner, puts footrest up). Like I said, it’s like the dee-vine intervention. You don’t want to mess with that.


Gee, Barry, I wasn’t even going to watch-


(Cuts Paul off mid-sentence, a little angrier.) LIKE I SAID PAUL. YOU DON’T MESS WITH THAT.


(Firmly.) Listen, Barry, now I’m not going to ask you again.


(Grabs remote and points at PAUL) KALAMAZOO!


(Looking stunned, opens up his mouth, recording of famous pop song comes out instead of words.) R-E-S-P-E-C-T FIND OUT WHAT IT MEANS TO ME.


Paul, I didn’t know you have the Music Choice Premium Package!


(Horrified, Paul tries to scream.) SOCK-IT-TO-ME, SOCK-IT-TO-ME!




Hehe. Gosh, what a classic. (Lowers volume on Paul, continues watching came with a smug smile).


Dream Job

Hey my little Pikachus!

It’s Day 23 of the Blog Challenge.

The question: What is your dream job?

I don’t know that I necessarily have a dream job, as I do a dream career.

If you can dream it, you can do it. Right kids?

Anyhoo, I’d like the be a professional stand-up comedian. I also want to write for comedy shows, whether being Late Night, or a sitcom, or a sketch show, or a movie. I’d also like to publish a collection of personal essays I have.

I don’t think I understand how a person functions without comedy. It’s all I really want to do and mostly what I think about. I’m also a freak.

Well, I really want ice cream, so I’m going to cut this short.

ALSO. This is my 125th blog post.  I think that may be some sort of milestone. *throws glitter in your eyes*

Until next time, my darling crab rangoons!


I wrote this a few months back when I was taking writing classes with The Second City. I’m surprised that I still don’t completely hate it.



(Version #1)



Patricia-30’s, petite, employee

Marge-40’s, bulky woman

Frank-late 40’s, overweight, balding

Chuck-late 40’s, slightly overweight


(Lingerie shop in the middle of a busy shopping mall. Patrons walking in an out.)



    (To customers moving in and out of store)

Hi! How are you doin’ today? Need a bra fitting?

       (Rejected by customer)

No problem! If you need any help, my name is Patricia.

(To Marge)

Hi Ma’am! How may I help you today?


Yes, thank you. I’m looking to buy a new bra for my husband.


Oh, perfect! Do you know what size? What does he like?


We need to be measured again.

(Turns head away from Patricia, screams)


(Frank waddles over.)



Lift up your arms for the woman, Frank.

(Frank sighs, lifts up arms, exposes belly. Marge moves away, browses around store.)


Hey there, Frank! I’m Patricia.

(Wraps tape measure around Frank’s bust, notes measurements.)

Have you been measured before?


Uh, few years ago.


I can tell! (Giggles.) The bra you’re wearing doesn’t look too comfortable! Let’s get you out of that one and into something that fits your fuller bust.

(Glances around store, trying to find a bra for Frank to try on.)

Hm…Now Frank, do you prefer fuller coverage or plunge?


(Opens up more, less shy.)

You know, Patricia, I really like a little support. When I’m bending over to get the remote, I don’t want to be you know…falling out everywhere. I want some tasteful but still playful.


Great! Here we have this style. (Guides Frank to rack of bras.) We’ve got a new line with little footballs on them, this one has cars, and this one even has Ron White’s face on it!


I’ll try that one on.



 (Points. Takes car patterned bra to dressing room. Patricia waits in lobby of store. Frank tries on bra, walks out of room to examine in bigger mirrors.)

(Chuck walks out of dressing room, Frank has back towards Chuck.)


That you, Frank?

(Frank turns around.)


Oh, hey Chuck.


Marge got you here?



(Sighs. Looks back in mirror, looking at bra in different angles.)


Claudia doesn’t know I’m here, thought I’d surprise her with something special when she got home. Check out this one. Imagine me in this little number. (Holds up rhinestone studded bra.) Nice, huh?


Yeah, I guess.


What’s wrong, bud?



(Ad lib Chuck, “Oh come on”, “What is it?” etc.)

Well, it just seems a little silly. We spend all this money and time in buying new bras with cutesy little patterns on


them, rhinestones, and the whole she-bang, and it’s not like our wives even care about them. They don’t think about how long we spent trying to pick something special out for them. They just want what’s underneath.


Well, yeah. I mean the man’s breasts are the most egregious part of the body.


Erogenous. And I don’t mean that, but I mean it shouldn’t matter what I’m wearing. I want my wife to think I’m sexy for me.


Yeah well, you can thank the media for that one, pal. I for one, like buying something sexy for Claudia to see me in.


I don’t know. The standards for men are just outrageous these days! You see the men on the Victor’s Whispers commercials. No regular guy looks like that! Ripped abs, hairless body, diamond studded bra! Women just don’t understand what us men have to go through!

(Both turn back to go into their dressing rooms. Frank gets dressed. Comes back out and looks at self in large mirrors. Chuck stays in room, pokes head out.)


I wouldn’t worry about it, Frank. Marge loves you. At least you have a wife that doesn’t sit there with George Clooney posters all over the bedroom while you’re trying to make love to her! I can’t compare to him! So I don’t, and you shouldn’t either Frank.


Yeah, you know what Chuck, you’re right. I’m a good guy! I’m a great catch! They can keep their George Clooney’s and that soccer player guy, Devin Barkham or whatever. I’m great just being me!

(Tosses bra at Chuck’s face. Struts out of dressing room.)



Hm. (Shrugs. Quiet to self.) Go get her, Frankie.

(Walks out of dressing room in matching bra and thong. Ass facing audience as looks in mirror.)

Now you, sir, are one hot ticket. (Winks to self in mirror.)