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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!
Wednesday, March 31, 2004
Love, Jack.
The latest ad campagin by Trojan UK is genius. Watch this, this and this. These well-produced 30 second spots should probably be watched at home unless your boss is Jack, who was kind enough to let me watch them on his computer. Actually he demanded it after impatiently and repeatedly asking, "Have you watched them yet? Have you watched them yet." After several inquiries he demanded, "Get in my office -- NOW!" So, I did.
--Kambri
Man, he's such a ball buster.
Link - 11:43 AM -
Tuesday, March 30, 2004
I was deeee-runk last night.
White wine goes straight to my head! I saw about 20 minutes of the Heidi Fleiss movie Call Me . . . which received negative four stars in this NY Post review. Quite possibly the worst score in history and extremely accurate from what I could tell.
Gloria Steinem, Where are You?
This article in New York Magazine is an interesting read on the current state of comedy in New York. Although Christian wasn't interviewed, there are several mentions of Tough Crowd -- the same show for which he writes and I never watch.
Here's an excerpt:
Norton's a guest tonight, along with with the liberal comic Marc Maron and a six-foot-five former football player named Patrice O'Neal, who can be found in the greenroom before the taping yelling, "No don't mean fucking no! If it does, I've raped a lot of women."
Next time I see him, I'll report back to you what "No" sounds like coming out of a 6'5" tub of shit as I break a broomstick off in his ass.
Seriously, if a remark like Patrice's doesn't make you want to shove a broomstick up his ass, I don't know what will.
--Kambri
Whew! All better!
Link - 3:41 PM -
Monday, March 29, 2004
Oy, I'm glad I'm not single!
I thought I was going to a media biz mixer. So, I arrived in a cute little silk/cashmere button up cardigan and a petite little string of delicate white droplets strung around my neck. I was hit on, pulled at, grabbed, stroked and slobbered on more than any piece of tart(are) I've ever done the same to all while draped in pearls, fergodsake! Imagine if I had known I was going to a single's event. My "jewelry" of the sea has never been so violated.
Still, it was fun. I met the photographer for New York Magazine (I had better be in next month's issue!), the head of Lord & Taylor's retail department, and others. I saw the Astrotwins and some bachelor reality show lookalike (I'm not convinced that he wasn't actually on a show) that sidled up to me for a few moments before he moved on to warmer waters.
I broke every little flashing red magnetic heart I touched. No lie. It was too ominous for my liking.
--Kambri
Real hearts can't be broken, right?
Link - 3:40 PM -
Sunday, March 28, 2004
Doug Benson comped Christian and me with a couple of tickets to his hit show, The Marijuana-Logues. I really enjoyed the performances turned in by Doug & Arj Barker and thought the set design and lighting were both well done.
It was notable at how abominably late some audience members were. They were obviously too stoned to know what time the show started. At least 20 people arrived between 30 to 45 minutes late to a show that is just over an hour long. Doug said it happens every night. Time manangement is obviously not a stoned man's strong suit. But, really, what is? Eating large quantities of pork rinds in record time?Anyhoo, catch Doug in his show at the Actor's Playhouse while he's in town and don't forget to tell him who sent ya.
If you're bored, wish Paquita Borgito Borgato Chorizo Jimenez a happy 3rd birthday!
--Kambri
Mmm, pork rinds.
Link - 5:42 PM -
Wednesday, March 24, 2004
What's Happening to Me? -- An Adult Version
I got to bed super late Monday night. I tip-toed around trying to be hyper hush hush so as not to wake my roommate. Did he hear the door? No. Did he hear me changing clothes? No. Did he wake up? Yes. Nothing could stifle to pops and clicks that my bones were making. Ah, yes, those creaking bones your mother warned you about. It's true: I am fast approaching 33 years of age.Someone should write a version of the above-linked book and warn all us unsuspecting fools that women start growing hair in odd places and of the horrid things that happen (or don't) to men.
And then, the worst part, brace yourselves . . . I was shopping in Express trying to remain young in, at the very least, my attire when a house version of Black Sabbath's "Changes" filled the space. I actually said out loud, "How could they?" But, really, how could they? "I'll never shop here again!" I thought. So I bought a few hundred bucks worth of clothes (Big sale, ladies!) and promptly got the hell out of there before I heard any house-AC/DC. My heart simply would have stopped.
So, Express, thank you for showing me that "I'm going through changes," in ways I could never have imagined.
--Kambri
Come on, a dance version of CHANGES? $@%#^
Link - 2:04 PM -
Tuesday, March 23, 2004
About Last Night
In a word: AWESOME. Six hundred guests visiting from England on an all-inclusive free vacation (bands, dinners, Broadway shows and MORE, if you can believe it) celebrating absolutely nothing by drinking all of the open bar and dancing from 9:00 till 2:00. In other words, they were hammered and frisky. One girl was so drunk at last call that four people had to carry her off the dance floor while we waited for security / first aid to arrive.
Disturbing Not From Jack Quote
One hotel employee to another: "When somebody's that drunk, you can do whatever you want to them."
Yuck. Can you imagine how many tourists in this hotel have been taken advantage by him and others with this mentality? Just revolting.
Anyhoo . . . so I liased with the hotel staff to manage the green room and wrangled the DJ to cover for the band while they took breaks and just hobnobbed with various types, answered questions and smiled a lot.
All in all, it was a major league coup* for Ballyhoo if I do say so myself. The best part, I get to do it all over again this Thursday. Oh, yeah, and I got paid to do it. Weird.
--Kambri
*A brilliantly executed stratagem; a triumph!
Link - 8:33 PM -
Monday, March 22, 2004
Almost Famous
I'll be managing a band tonight then crashing in a free room in the same hotel. Don't wait up.
--Kambri
So, yeah, Ballyhoo Promotions is going really well!
Link - 3:35 PM -
Friday, March 19, 2004
Double Standard
I know this isn't exactly a timely question, but I heard Beat It playing and it suddenly dawned on me . . . has anyone suggested a boycott of Michael Jackson songs or even intimated at a refusal to play his music on the radio becuase of his child molestation charges? What exactly did the Dixie Chicks do that was against the law? I guess expressing your opinion against the President is a heinous thing. I'll be careful not to do it. Now where's that little neighbor boy?
--Kambri
My "lawn" needs "mowing".
Link - 4:03 PM -
Tuesday, March 16, 2004
What Did We Do Before Cell Phones?
This guy, who tried nailing himself to a cross, would be dead, and that would be sad, wouldn't it? Wouldn't it?!
If you don't want to read the whole article, take away this little snippet:
"When he realized that he was unable to nail his other hand to the board, he called 911," Boucher said.
It was unclear whether the man was seeking assistance for his injury or help in nailing down his other hand.
--Kambri
I got nothing.
Link - 10:56 PM -
Monday, March 15, 2004
Charlie Sheen Quote
In re: the birth of his daughter, "To be in the delivery room when little Sam arrived just blew my mind out of my head! It's pretty interesting, Sam was born on 3/9 and I was born on 9/3. She was born at 10:57 pm and I was born at 10:58. We've definitely got a connection.
"Yeah, Charlie, it's called DNA. Seriously, congratulations, but I think in your euphoria, you made something more interesting than it is . . . your fatherly version of a stoned revelation. The high will come down soon and it will just be about wiping fecal matter off a whiny mound of flesh.
--Kambri
Sick and, obviously, cranky.
Link - 8:28 AM -
Friday, March 12, 2004
Update!
Fred Armisen (Saturday Night Live) joins the line up for Tuesday's show at the Marquee.In the News!
--Kambri
Tired.
Link - 9:42 PM -
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
This Just In!
Greg Proops, Laurie Kilmartin & Rob Paravonian are booked on Tuesday's show at Marquee. Be there!
--Kambri
Please!
Link - 3:54 PM -
Tuesday, March 09, 2004
My Life is Like Porn
I've been chatting via email with an old* high school friend and I realized that the intimate story of my life is analogous to the progression of porn in our society. In small doses, it doesn't seem so farfetched; it is, perhaps, interesting and mysterious; sexy, even. But hear it all at once and you find yourself suddenly exlaiming, "Hey, who said I was into man on man on woman on tranny group sex whilst** peeing on small farm animals? This whole thing started out as a Marilyn Monroe Playboy spread!!!"
**Would you really say "whilst" whilst exlaiming about peeing on small farm animals? But, I digress.
--Kambri
* Hey, jerkface, don't judge me by a number! And I did my asterisks out of order, so hmmph!
Link - 7:10 PM -
Sunday, March 07, 2004
Save the date:
Join me and Ballyhoo Promotions this Tuesday, March 16th when the casting folks at NBC will be putting on a show at the Marquee, a venue "reminiscent of the old-time burlesque houses which used to line the Bowery."
PSNBC
Marquee
356 Bowery between Great Jones and E. 4th St.
8:00PM
$5.00
Meanwhile, I'm trying not to eat myself because I just slathered my skin in this stuff. . . I smell like a birthday cake, a rich, creamy, sugary, sweet, melt-in-your-mouth, birthday cake. It's way overpriced for the quantity and quality, but I would pay anything they charged to forever smell the way I do right now.
--Kambri
I just licked myself, and was sorely disappointed. I guess it's chicken and aparagus for dinner instead.
Link - 3:24 PM -
Friday, March 05, 2004
I Take That Back!
Our prayers were answered. I wore a lovely teal number and an updo with a beautiful gardenia in my hair. Long black satin gloves covered nearly every inch of my frightfully white and untoned arms. Thank you, God!
I shared a "dressing room" (read: an area semi-enclosed by see through tablecloths surrounded by techies and band members milling about chatting and eating) with five men and three women. In other words, we were all on complete display. I had three costume changes which at one point included stripping down to absolutely nothing but a thong. Any inhibitions I may have had were plowed down by having only 10 minutes to race down three enormous flights of stairs, transform from one outfit to another, one hairdo to another and race back up three enormous flights of stairs.
During the entirety of one of these changes, I was being hit on by one of the guys. Ladies, if a man sees you sweaty and stripping down to nada, then quickly yank up a pair of pantyhose in front of makeup lights as bright as the Miami noon sun when you haven't seen the real sun since September and he STILL wants to know if you're single, then you know he hasn't had sex in a long, long while.
I haven't been in a nightclub in years. I'm more of the hang with my friends at a pub or restaurant and see a show kind of girl. It's been a very long time since I wore an evening gown and got all glammed up to mingle with a few hundred strangers, so -- and this sounds silly and very arrogant -- I had forgotten that I can be beautiful. There wasn't a single moment where I wasn't being flirted with, asked out, chatted up or complimented and let me tell you, it felt good.
Which Reminds Me
A few weeks ago, Greg and I went to see Southern Fried Comedy at Stand Up NY and the hostess placed us front row, center. To top it off, the show was lightly attended. This meant we were the focus of every comedian's audience interaction. Neither of us were willing to divulge much information and mostly kept quiet to avoid looking like those over-eager obnoxious audience members that are desperately wishing they were the one on stage. It started like this:
Emcee, "What about you two? Are you married?"
Me: "No."
Emcee: "Are you on a date?"
Greg: "No, we're just friends."
Emcee, very matter of factly to Greg and mimicking Greg's voice: "Oh, you're gay. I get it. Good thing, because if you're that good looking you had better be gay and give us ugly, straight guys a chance at the beautiful women."
Greg then became the butt of all gay jokes, which he took in stride. After the show, Greg & I chatted about the banter.
Me: "It's funny, I forgot that you actually are a really good looking guy!"
Greg, "I know what you mean! After [Tex in the City's] 42nd Street event I was chatting with this guy who said, 'Kambri is so beautiful' and I thought, 'Yeah, she is, isn't she?'"
I've known Greg since I was 15 years old. I just see Greg, not the handsome Latin-lover-like stud that he is and he just sees me, Kambri, not the tall, svelte blonde bombshell that I am (heh, heh, heh). In high school I was always cast as the older lady or character-type roles, so I never saw myself as the ingenue. Even after all these years, it seems so foreign to me when people view me as a pretty, sexual being. I think of myself as a quirky Joan Cusack type. I guess what I'm getting at is that it's nice to feel pretty, oh so pretty, I feel pretty and witty and gay!
--Kambri
Wow, this was long and pointless. My apologies!
Link - 3:41 PM -
Thursday, March 04, 2004
Power Couple
Years ago, before I lived in New York, I was here with a group of theater-loving friends for a long weekend of Broadway and tourism. My friend Eileen was sitting on the stoop of our hotel when I came around the corner to meet her. She announced, "You just missed Matthew Broderick & Sarah Jessica Parker!" She went on to describe how the pair had hailed a cab, took a few photos with tourists before Sarah insisted Matt stop posing, "Honey, you're going to be late!" They gave a quick kiss goodbye, Sarah leaving in the cab and Matthew walking over to the Helen Hayes Theater where Eileen & I would see him perform in Night Must Fall just a few hours later. Eileen described them as cute and petite and friendly to their fans.
I marveled at how normal that must have been for them. To each other, they are just two working actors in love, parting ways before heading to their separate jobs.
Tuesday night Christian and I left our respective offices in Rockefeller Center. We met on our adjoining corner and walked a few avenues together before we gave each other a quick peck on the lips. "Have a great show!" I said and waved goodbye. "You, too!" He answered, giving me the smile that tells me he's happy in love and life. As I walked away, I overheard someone say, "Hey, that's the guy from Chappelle's Show!"
It was then I remembered Eileen's star encounter and I grew warm inside. Now, I can't guarantee this, but I have a pretty good feeling that even though we aren't filthy rich or famous like the Parkericks, the experience feels just about the same. Here we are living in this amazing city doing what we love and sharing it with each other. It's breathtaking at how happy it makes me . . . I can actually feel my heart swell . . . and even more overwhelming is how afraid I can be of losing it all.
At the Copa, Copacabana!
Seems you readers failed to pray hard enough. Thanks for nothing! The gown they chose at my fitting yesterday is a super-slinky gold concoction which pretty much blends right in with my skin. As the costume designer said during my fitting, "Oh, it will look like a nude, peek-a-boo thing." My big ole white pasty winter ass is gonna look horrible, but, shhh, don't tell anyone, especially not the hundreds of people that will be there tonight. I think I'm going to puke.
--Kambri
Then I'll fit in my dress!
Link - 3:21 PM -
Tuesday, March 02, 2004
I'm Practically Dried Up.
Did you know that 32 is the age limit for a woman to donate her eggs? Neither did I. Shouldn't my biological clock have started well before then? For my birthday this June I should throw myself an eggstra special birthday party to mourn the loss of all the apparently good eggs and hope that none of my future rotten eggs will become. . . well . . . bad seeds.
--Kambri
Old.
Link - 3:17 PM -
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