Suprise! Here is a new Rock TV for you! Suckle upon it and recieve precious comedy nutrients!

This wasn’t really intended to be a Rock TV at all. Instead, this bit was written as a scene in an upcoming Rock TV called The Dealbreaker List, which will come out sometime in the next few weeks. However, when we started shooting, it was clear that the ideas were flowing. I remember noting that we shot 23 minutes of video for what was supposed to be a 20-30 second gag.

Once we reached the editing stage, the decision was made to excise this bit from The Dealbreaker List video and release it as a stand-alone Rock TV. All credit for the humor in this video needs to go to Leroy, who (without speaking a word) completely sells it. It’s probably as low-concept as we get, but that’s the appeal of it.

And for the record, he spit out maybe 2 or 3 of those brownies, but ate the rest of them.

You ever wonder what sort of foul, crusty nastiness contaminates the plumbing of your home? Well, the other night, after paying $400 to the Roto-Rooter guy, Bridgette and I were able to find out:

A tangled, rancid mess of tree roots, rusty sand, and miscellanious nastiness.

If I’d have been thinking right, I would have snapped a picture of the bucketful of blackened shame that the gentleman delivered to us, but I wasn’t. I was unfortunately preoccupied with the dank, putrid smell that now overwhelmed our basement. It was like trying to maintain a conversation with a pleasant stranger while an unwashed hobo is pooping on the sidewalk just a few yards away and speaking in an invented language.

The good news is that now we can run our washing machine without flooding the basement. That bad news is that we basically paid a man $400 to make our basement smell like human feces. This truly is the filthiest remorse of all.

Last evening, I spent three hours engrossed in HBO’s awesome new miniseries, John Adams based on David McCullough’s fine book (which I reviewed here). Thanks to Thom who illegally burned and delivered a DVD of the first three episodes to me, I was able to sit in the warm comforts of my cable-less home and thank Providence for using Thom’s illicit piracy operation to bless me so bountifully.

Featuring Paul Giamatti as the intelligent yet stubborn Adams, and Tom Wilkinson as the crafty Ben Franklin, the cast for this film could only have been improved with the inclusion of Harrison Ford has a gruff, finger-pointing Alexander Hamilton.

With HBO’s financing and Tom Hanks as executive producer, the production and attention to detail was excellent - reminiscent of HBO’s earlier Band of Brothers, only with fewer explosions and more petticoats. Episode 2 was particuarly inspiring, as you watch Adams push the Continental Congress toward independance while Franklin tries to quietly keep the ship together and Thomas Jefferson stuns the both of them with his first draft of the Declaration. The only way this could have been better is if Chris Tucker would have been there to make fun of everything.

The filmmakers wisely don’t obscure Adams’s deeply held religious convictions and devote quite a bit of time to an examination of his famously loving marriage with Abigail. I was particularly touched by their famous letters to each other when reading the book, and their moments together thus far in the film have been among my favorites. She was a woman admired by Adams’s contemporaries (probably more than he was, to be honest) for her wit, intelligence, and fierce loyalty to her husband.

She was also super hot, for a 1700s chick.

At any rate, this miniseries has now been graced with the official JLP Stamp of Approval. Let me know if you want to watch it with me sometime - maybe we could arrange a historical viewing party where we all dress up in britches and watch it together and get smallpox.

And if you have HBO, tune in this Sunday for episode 4, when John Adams invents drugs.

He always does this to me, you guys.

Somehow, Ben Franklin has a way of physically subduing me, forcing me to comfort and caress him despite his aloof, uncaring demeanor. I don’t know why I submit to his demands, but I do.

I always, always do.

I am invariably left feeling taken advantage of as he trots away to lick his ample groin. Afterwards I lingered on the couch, matted in cat hair and sobbing uncontrollably for 30 grief-wracked minutes.

Is there some hotline I can call if I’ve been emotionally abused by my cat, or have Tim Pawlenty’s heartless budget cuts eliminated such programs?

Last night a friend of me asked what was up the all the potshots I’d been taking at Barack Obama on my blog. I told her she was overreacting, and that my comment about wanting to mail him a used Band-Aid hardly amounted to an attack.

Upon reflection, however, I began to wonder if she was right? Have I been enjoying my ability to deliver barbs to the previously unassailable Obama so much that I somehow betrayed my objectivity?

Therefore, in the interests of equal opportunity ripping, I offer up the following thoughts:

As a candidate, Hillary Clinton about as inspiring as Bob Dole, only without his experience or wit. Instead of his gruff mumblings, Clinton has her absolutely unconvincing, wide-eyed Bambi smile.

Meanwhile, John McCain has the jowels of Don Corleone, the temperment of a dalmatian, and all the physical grace and fluidity of C-3PO.

There, are you all happy now?

Do any of you guys have a used Band-Aid? I kind of need one.

I don’t care what kind of shape it’s in. It could be crusted over with puss and brown blood, that’s fine. I just need a used Band-Aid.

Don’t worry, sanitation is of no concern to me. Regular readers of my blog will not be suprised to hear this.

The Band-Aid could have been applied to human skin, a cat’s paw, or a poodle’s anal pore. It doesn’t matter. I just need a Band-Aid, and it’s imperative that it is not crisp or sterile.

Ahh, here we are! This one has been sitting in the basin of a locker room drinking fountain. From the looks of it, it had been applied for quite some time. It is curled up, and the white gauze is dark with unspeakable secretions. This is the best one I’ve seen in quite some time.

I’ll just place this soaking wet, used Band-Aid in a fresh baggie, and seal it. Now, at long last, it is ready.

Does anybody have Barack Obama’s mailing address?