If you like comedy, PR or the occasional inside scoop on the entertainment world, then drop by for a daily dose written by me, Kambri Crews, producer and publicist to comedians and more!   Friday, October 31, 2003 Happy Halloween. The main drags here in Astoria are in utter mayhem right now. Rather than kids going from apartment building to apartment building, they visit the local delis and such. This one deli was overrun with a throng of kids waiting for their one piece of peppermint. Yep. One little piece of peppermint and they were swarming the place. What the fu*k? --Kambri Peppermint? Link - 6:31 PM -   Tuesday, October 28, 2003 Two extremely drunk and happy homeless men were having a grand old time sitting on milk crates and teasing all the passers by. I tried to sneak past unnoticed without success. They remarked on how lovely I am (need I clarify those are my words, not theirs) before they moved on to the next person. The next morning there they were much more subdued, but awake. They seemed to recognize me as I came bouncing toward. One said, with a big toothless grin: "Hey, there she go again! Lookin' good enough to eat!" Then I responded with all the unsuspecting Southern innocence and charm: "Hey, you're still here?!" Big smile. Bound past. Best of luck! Link - 11:31 AM -   Monday, October 27, 2003 I have very important and shocking news for you: Spam is out of control! Apparently the mass majority of the human race is in dire need of Vicodin and penis enlargement. Why do so many men need this and why would they trust a spam email as their #1 source of information rather than, say, Google? And just why are there NO emails for clit enlargement? Does no one want a bigger clit? Maddening. Just like Daylight Savings Time's TV Guide. Link - 8:30 AM -   Sunday, October 26, 2003 This digitally animated alternative music show was so cool. Just don't go there drunk. Have you ever felt so drunk that you had to put one foot on the ground to make your room/bed stop spinning? Well, that's how I felt through some portions. It's so wild to think you can get motion sickness sitting completely still. Then I came home and tried to stay up late enough to figure out how the TV Guide can still be accurate despite the observance Daylight Savings Time. Once again, for the 32nd year in a row, I fell asleep and it all still remains a mystery to me. Just baffling. Link - 11:29 AM -   Thursday, October 23, 2003 Wee. I'm at home today! Wee! My usual dry cleaners is closed for vacation, so I called Christian for another suggestion. That was silly. There are like 1,063 in a two block radius. I found a very clean, new-looking French cleaners directly across from Key Food. I dropped off two sweaters and two shirts and figured I’d stop in Key Food for a few items. Thirty minutes and $45 later, I had bags filled with groceries that I think I might actually eat before they rot. Never mind that they're mostly non-perishables. I left two pairs of the daintiest girly shoes with the oldest, gruffest man who will have them ready for me later today for only $10. Normally I would just throw out shoes thinking they aren't worth the hassle, but I had barely worn these shoes when the little heels wore through from walking on the sidewalks of New York. One pair was worn much before its time because I walked home in them during the blackout. These tiny little stilletos weren't meant to trudge across a bridge! I’m so proud of my diligence and responsibility today – dry cleaning, grocery shopping, shoe repairs, vacuuming, and organizing – you’d think Martha Stewart laid eggs in my ear while I was sleeping. Could that be why it hurts? Hmm . . . I think I want to check my stock prices. Okay, enough. I have more “things” to do. I like doing "things". Link - 2:41 PM -   Monday, October 20, 2003 Jack's China trip is proving exciting and worthwile for him. He called me twice over the weekend to let me know he lost his insulin pen and needed backup fast among other demands. Why he was calling me at 3:00 in the morning is beyond me. He's at a five star hotel, the concierge gets paid to cater to high maintenance blustery guys like Jack. It was all in control by this morning, he was given needles and drugs galore with no prescription necessary. These Commies sure know how to operate. It was good to hear his voice though and not from the confines of a dank prison cell. We must have chatted for twenty minutes about the food alone. He made me laugh with tales of his refusal to eat fish lips and the like. In fact, he was calling me from a Mongolian restaurant where they have baby lambs wandering through restaurants. "You pick the one you want, just like lobster! Then they take it in the back and prepare it for you. So fresh!" Followed by, "Baaah Baaah" in the background. Later when giving him a phone number he said, "Give me another pen, this one's got blood all over it." I was mortified. Thankfully it was all a ruse. All those "Baaahs" were courtesy of his new Chinese friends following along in his joke. Say all you want about Jack -- how he's rude, crude, bossy, mean, high maintenance, demanding -- but people love him and no one ever forgets him. These new Chinese friends of his have already started inundating his inbox with emails. They will miss him, but not as much as I do. I need a free lunch! Link - 6:16 PM -   Sunday, October 19, 2003 Boy, that Cinderella story just keeps getting told over and over and over again. I just watched Maid in Manhattan (yes, I know, I know) and it was the same story verbatim, complete with two stepsister-like characters and all the little forest animals in the form of co-workers that helped put Cinderella together for the big ball. It seems in Hollywood the only thing needed to re-tell a story is a different box office beauty and change in backdrop. It makes me think I'm going about life and love all the wrong way. I need a beautiful dress and a demeaning job to snag a rich prince charming. Forget all this ambition and dating guys with no 401Ks -- I'm such a fool! Link - 2:06 PM -   Saturday, October 18, 2003 The first time I watched Office Space, I thought it was okay, but a little slow. I think I was too deep in my real life "office space" to see the truth. I was too busy lying to myself about my day-to-day hell to recognize that Peter was me. Watching it now, I can laugh freely and know that the extra $30,000 a year I was making was never worth all that misery. But wait . . . I'm still in an office every day. I guess having one that overlooks Rockefeller Center makes it less dreadful. Now if only I could not get shocked when I touch the metal door handle every morning. Argh! Link - 11:05 AM -   Wednesday, October 15, 2003 My mid-life crisis all started with a broken heel. As I'm limping along, trying to look as though I belong on 5th Avenue office on which I work, I tried to convince myself that I matter in someone's life -- someone who is not a direct link in the hierarchy of successors in the event of my intestate death. A chain of events was spurred: • I limped with the broken heel to the subway. -- I cannot afford taxis to and fro on a daily basis. • Sitting on the subway with my broken heel, I observed all the schlubby working class people headed to the same neighborhood. -- I cannot afford to live in Manhattan given my spacial needs and am, therefore, a schlubby working class minion. • I hobbled home from the subway to a dog and nothing else. No letters or emails, no projects or parties, no calls from the paparazzi. -- I have no one to leave my fortune in the event of my testate death. In fact, I could rot for days and days before anyone was the wiser.*** So I bought a new pair of heels. Okay, Mommy's better now, so quit calling me "Mommy" and for God's sake put down that grilled cheese sandwich! ***Okay, Christian might wonder why I didn't return his calls, but would he bother looking for a corpse? I'm not sure. My mother never calls. It could be months before my maggot ridden body was recovered and by then my stocks could have plummeted, so let's not count on her. Dad? He's now confined to a year in solitary, does he need the money for a Johnny Cochran-like defense? Sure, but is he worth it? Only if he keeps sending me nude sketches. Yowzer. Link - 11:13 PM -   Tuesday, October 14, 2003 After the longest week of work, I've sent Jack off to China. Stay tuned to CNN for any strange international incidents involving an obnoxious American. Trust me, in nine days Jack is bound to cause some newsworthy trouble. I filled numerous prescriptions to ensure he'll enjoy himself during his meetings with the Ministers of Defense and Energy, et al. and his scheduled "Shanghai Nightlife" and "Forbidden City" trips. While I was at the drugstore, Jack's pharmacist actually intimated that he was trying to "get rid" of Jack. You know you've made some enemies when a man who actually does semi-like you threatens to kill you on occasion. Meanhwhile, Mommy's having a mid-life crisis. Now be a big girl (boy) and go fix yourself a grilled cheese sandwich. Link - 10:50 PM -   Sunday, October 12, 2003 I have never encountered more snags and silly stresses in basic travel than when travelling with Christian. He says he's never had this much trouble except when with me. Are our travel juices mixing to create a disastrous formula? Considering I've been to Europe and the BVI's, all over the US and Mexico and he's never set foot out of the country, I'm more than happy to blame him. Besides, I wasn't with him Friday when he had one of his worst airport experiences. Part of it, though, is that he gets very riled up at the smallest hiccups whereas I tend to just stay silent and think, "Hmm, this sucks, ooh, that coffee smells good. I wish I had coffee. My ass itches. If I lean up against that pole I can scratch it unnoticed, but will that pole leave schmutz on my pants?" You get the idea. I think the Travel Gods look down on him and think, "Let's halt all subway service into Manhattan. Can you just picture the fury on his face? MMWWAHAHAHA!" When they see me, they think, "Aaah, why bother? She'll just meet a taxi driver willing to drive her to Manhattan in exchange for a Stoli light up pen because he's already headed to Manhattan, and why should he charge her for a trip he's going to take with or without her?" I suggested Finnegan make a sacrifice to the Travel Gods: like buy a Metro Card and give it to a migrant worker. He queried, "But what if I do that and then my travel karma doesn't change? Can you imagine how pissed I'd be then?!?!" See. He's destined for delays. You just have to trust that when you put the goodness out there, it will come back not to smack you but kiss you lightly on the lips and ask, "Mmmm, is that Dentyne Arctic Chill? It is?!?! Then, please accept this first class upgrade. I insist." Honestely, though, the MTA can suck my dick.** **Just kidding, MTA God! Link - 11:30 PM -   Friday, October 10, 2003 Many days I get lunch from Variety Cafe, a busy and overpriced deli with an enormous selection of anything and everything you could possibly want during lunchtime. Watch the Today Show on any given morning, and there it is. Today I overheard this chick request, "Yes, chicken noodle soup but only noodles, no chicken." Umm . . . No? Never mind that it was a virtually impossible task for the soup guy, given the particular set up at Variety -- it's chicken noodle soup. Pick something else out of the thousand things to choose from in this gargantuan smorgasbord of tasty delights and get the fuck out of the way. It was a priceless moment to see those within earshot all stop in unison to look at her in disbelief and then resume moving and talking again. I didn't stick around to see if she got what she wanted. I just took my chicken noodle soup (with extra chicken) and kept on moving. Link - 11:47 PM -   Wednesday, October 08, 2003 I've always been a hard worker and good at mechanical things. I can read maps and directions like no other person with a vagina. I've helped build decks, reshingled roofs, painted homes inside and out, built foundations, gardens, sewage lines, wired lights, refinished hardwood floors, I've repaired mechanical and constructional failures and assembled many complicated items of furniture alone and with swift ease. So, imagine my shock and dismay at the conversation I had today: Me: Scott, thank you so much for all that food! You cooked for me? Left a pizza? A bottle of wine?! Wow! And the tub! What on earth did you do to fix it? Did you call the Super? Scott: No, I just flipped the little switch. Yep, the little trip lever thing that turns a shower to a tub, he flipped it. That little thing got flipping flipped. Link - 9:08 PM -   Tuesday, October 07, 2003 While in Florida, Scott and Brian stayed at my place to babysit my menagerie of Phish, Larry Bird and Paquita. Before leaving, I took great pains to hide my *ahem* Valuables. I wouldn't risk passing them through an x-ray machine at airport security ("Ma'am, please empty the contents of your bag") and Christian was not willing to be a Page Six snippet and wouldn't carry them on my behalf. So, I stashed them as best I could. I've known Scott since I was 15 years old; there is little, if anything, in my drawers life that could shock him. I still, however, found myself compelled to bury my Valuables out of sight. "As long as I survive four more days, my secret is safe," I thought. There are a few things wrong with that scenario: • I have never kept my Valuables a secret. • I've talked about my Valuables with Scott at length. • If I don't survive the trip, the cat is out of the bag. My logic is, as long as you can't picture them, they don't exist. Plus, I don't want Scott using them. I left Scott with a clogged tub and no food in the fridge. I returned to a sparkling, clog-free porcelain tub and more food than I've had since . . . umm . . . well . . . never. He even left a bottle of wine. Surely this was a mistake. Didn't he mean to take it? I can't believe I was so selfish. Next time, he can have my Valuables. I'll just buy new ones. Link - 10:59 AM -   Monday, October 06, 2003 Boy, it's great to be home! We had a terrific last two days for several reasons: a light agenda,Christian got to headline the last show (Richard must be atoning for Yom Kippur), bonus spending money, free movie passes to see School of Rock (simply darling and genuinely amusing) and, most importantly, each other's company. Gross, huh? Ah, what can I say for myself? It's true. At one point, we were gazing so cheesily into each other's eyes, the Emcee for the weekend interrupted us by demanding, "Get a room!" The thing is, we weren't groping or tonguing each other or anything else grotesquely physical; we were being intimate. Christian observed that intimacy is more uncomfortable for others than just flat out public grope sessions and that the Emcee should have said, "Get a candlelight dinner!" Which we did. We used the extra cash to treat ourselves to a deliciously private and tasty steak dinner last night, full of long gazes, teary toasts and, yes, even a kiss or eight or thirty. We said goodbye to our free stay at the Strand this morning. I woke up feeling a little blue about having to leave but excited to see Paquita again and have places like Rite Aid and the liquor store all within spitting distance. On the way home, our cabbie was on time, our flight arrived in New York 15 minutes early and even though they required passengers to remain seated due to a medical emergency in the back, they let my and Christian's row de-plane anyway so I had time to get Paquita to take her with me to the bank before it closed. I love New York and its efficiency at handling the flow of people. That inadequacy of Florida is what frustrated us for our first day or two there -- we need a vacation! -- Now that I'm back in civilization, I've added photos to the past links. Link - 10:57 AM -   Saturday, October 04, 2003 Another terrific performance by Christian rounded out a day full of intense highs and lows. This place, West Palm Beach, is clearly not meant for tourists. There are no sidewalks, not a single drugstore and the cab service wouldn't pick us up without knowing the exact name of the building we were at even though we told them we were at the beach and gave them an intersection and physical address of the nearest building. The worst part, though, is the exorbitant amount of construction. They are building anything and everything from scratch here. You know, because the natural landscape isn't pretty enough. We frolicked in the waves and I bronzed my skin while Christian turned a bright pink. Later at the Improv, I snapped a few photos of Christian on stage. When he viewed the results he remarked, "I look like I'm doing comedy on Mars." The lights were red, his shirt was a burnt orange and his face matched them perfectly. The red planet was never this fun. It wasn't all frustrating and fruitless, though.The views are stunning, the sounds of the ocean are so calming and the shoes here are cheap! This library from where I type overlooks the Intercoastal and is surrounded by palm trees and fountains and bright cheery colors. It beats my local library by a long shot, unless you prefer piss smelling books, cramped spaces and tattered books that are outdated and useless. Well, I'd love to keep a travel log, but this isn't very exciting and my bed awaits. Bye! Link - 1:55 AM -   Thursday, October 02, 2003 Well, after a pleasant and easy flight from LaGuardia on Delta Song, we arrived in sunny and warm Florida. There was much to do about nothing trying to get us into the proper condo, but we finally got settled in to our spacious two bedroom, two bath condominium complete with a dining room, huge kitchen, cable television and a balcony. We're even high enough for me to push Christian off the edge if he gets out of line. The place is great and so close to everything. We asked a guy where the nearest grocery store was, letting him know we didn't have a car and he gave us directions saying, "But it's pretty far." We said our thanks and not to worry about the distance. Turns out, it was about as far as the R stop from my apartment door. Far? You call that far? We ate lunch at the Cheesecake Factory, one of several chain restaurants we have to choose from, and I warned Christian to not order anything but an entree as their portions were obscenely large. He took my advice and we both ordered sandwiches. These things could feed a horse and horses don't know when they're full. We both finished just one half of our portions and got the rest to go. Who eats that much food? No wonder this country is a mess. We drive to the grocery store that's around the corner after we've eaten about eight pounds of cheese and bread. I brought my Pilates DVD so I wouldn't get out of the routine and actually DID Pilates before going to Christian's first of six shows at the Improv where he's featuring for Richard Lewis and headlining on Saturday night. Knock on wood, I've never seen Christian eat it on stage and he didn't fail last night. He kept the audience in a steady rolling laughter including a bit of sexual bantering with a 60-some-odd-year-old lady and some war of the words with a guy who was very excited to see Richard Lewis -- who, in my opinion, wasn't really trying very hard because the audience was pretty sparse for his standards. I guess when you've been doing comedy successfully for 34 years, performing for anything less than 300 people is a drag. But tonight should be a packed house, and I fully expect Christian to do well again and Richard to bring it tonight. Okay enough comedy reviews, I've got free slushies to drink, a pool to lie near, and a boy who has called me "beautiful" about 58 times since we left New York. Hey, if this is what clean air does to his senses, I'm going on vacation with him as often as possible! Link - 10:51 AM -