me and scott hanging out at the courts.

my flapper's set

flapper's nightclub flyer

recently at HaHa Cafe

https://picasaweb.google.com/117524838027093540195/Apr22201102?authkey=Gv1sRgCNOi7caqk_TVSw#5598647843709412114

FUCK you, Sarah Palin! And fuck Bristol, your daughter, too! Fuck both of you!

my dog's funnier than I am...

I know, shocking!

The single greatest news story, ever.

Man seeks Obama, Jesus restraining orders

Published: Nov. 10, 2010 at 1:22 PM

GAINESVILLE, Fla., Nov. 10 (UPI) -- A Florida court refused a man's request for restraining orders against President Barack Obama, former Gators quarterback Tim Tebow and Jesus Christ.

John Gilliand filed papers in Alachua County court last week claiming he felt threatened by the three famous figures and he made reference in the filings to the men being gang members or making gang symbols in his direction, the Orlando (Fla.) Sentinel reported Tuesday.

"I was trespassed from the Kangaroo Gas Station on University for saying T-Bo sucks," Gilliand wrote in his petition for an injunction for protection against Tebow. "I personally hate any type of exercise although I feel Billy Blanks has a wonderful video."

The petitions were rejected the same day they were filed but Gilliand filed a supplemental affidavit, this time naming only Obama and Tebow, asking the court to reconsider his requests.

Let's see, Mr. Gilliard is sufficiently sane and intelligent enough to fill out and submit all the official-type legal documents necessary to file a petition for a restraining order, but not sane enough to realize that one of the people mentioned in his restraining order has been dead for 2000 years.  Awesome.


So, according to Mr. Gilliard, President Obama, Jesus Christ and Tim Tebow are not only  "gang affliliated" (are they in the same gang?  I want to join!), they have threatened him personally by "making gang symbols" in his direction, which he finds antagonizing. (Note: Further research needed as to what a gang "symbol" is and how one is "made.")

Whooo!

Why can't I ever be funny and pretty at the same time? It's fucking bizarre, when I manage to put together a halfway decent set, I watch the video and I'm like "Wha? Ohhhh noooooooohhhh!? What the fuck is up with my hair? Why didn't I at least put on some lipstick or eyeliner or SOMETHING!? But nope. Whatever...

So, those of you who are really, really looking for something to occupy a few minutes of your time, why not do me a solid and watch (actually, I'd prefer you listen rather than watch as I'm occasionally humorous but unrelentlingly fugly from the beginning to end of my set)

latest video of my nieces!

This is the last video I'll be posting of my nieces as they have returned to the UK and I probably won't see them until next year.  I'm a wreck right now, I miss them so much...

Chihuahua dog breed | dog owner hotttpocket

Chihuahua dog breed dog owner hotttpocket

I performed last night. I think it went okay--but, I could be wrong.

Thanks Scott, for taking the video with your sweet iPhone.  You rule!

I wish I was a hilarious as these guys, they're absolutely THE BEST PODCAST EVER!

This is a video from their website, "Irreligiosophy". It rules, subscribe (FOR FREE!) on iTunes. They're the antidote to Glen Beck's poison! Here's the video. (warning: for adults. If you're offended by colorful language, fuck off, this video isn't for you. You are a fucking child--this video's for grownups.)

Part two of Cranky Maurice video.

For those of you who had to know, "Does he finally get out of bed or not?"

Maurice is cranky in the morning!

Turn down the volume unless you want to be annoyed by my loud, grating voice as I try to cajole Maurice out of bed one morning.  Other than that, I thought this video was cute. 




Yes, that is his tongue hanging out to the side.  What can I say, he doesn't like to floss. That's what happens to dogs who can't get dental implants when their tooth falls out.

He's only pretty.

This guy came up to me the other night and introduced himself.  "My name is Chris. (beat) I'm a Virgo." (Chris is not his name. It's not even close to his name. It's a made up name.  Why? Because, I don't want to give him the satisfaction of using his name.  I could be talking about someone else, some other douche bag i met recently, who's name is Chris.)  The fact that I allowed the conversation to go on past that point is my own fault.  I had the information I needed to know right there.

But, I foolishly permitted myself to flirt with and be flirted with and, at the end of the night (for me, anyway), when he walked me to my car I asked for his email, which he gave to me.

Here's the email I sent to him, a day and a half later:

This is Esme, from Friday night.  I hope this email doesn't frighten/alarm you in its "soonness."  If it does, you are easily frightened and alarmed. That must suck. ...Anyway, perfunctory (and snide, bonus!) repartee aside,  To be totally honest, I would have written you that night, or yesterday morning when I got up (6 am approx) but I felt that my borderline stalkerish behavior on Friday night needed a 24 "cooling off period," time enough to (I hope) fade from your memory/soften the creepy edges.

I'm writing you today to acheive the following objectives:

1.  To dazzle you with my ability to recall a 5 character email address (okay, 8 characters, counting the domain...I share this skill with many chimps, bonobos and even a few of nerdy capuchins documented in various cognitive reseach studies published quarterly... Yay me!)

2. To thank you for the gift that is "Electric Six."  I honestly believe my life has been instantly and immeasurably enriched now that their music is in my iTunes library. The song Danger! High Voltage! is ridiculous, mad, crazy awesome.  If I was a Japanese ad exec, my ad copy for their new campaign would go something like this:

Electric Six is SUPER-HAPPY-FRESH-EXTRA-SPARKLE-PRETTY-SMILE-ULTRA-BONUS!!

3. MOST IMPORTANT THING! To give you your mix cd  .I'm not sure what you'll think of it. Of course, I hope you like it heaps and heaps.  I certainly won't be unduly hurt you do not.  I tried, I failed, it's all good!  Oh, and please, let me know if it doesn't work--if your iTunes doesn't open and a playlist of music isn't created for you to listen to (but not copy or edit) on your computer.  That would be bad.


Here's the link.

untitled playlist 6.m3u (file://ESME-PC/Users/Public/Music/untitled%20playlist%206.m3u)


Final Note:  My phone number is ________.  Each hour that you postpone dialing this number is, for me, an eternity.  But, like, no pressure or anything.
Rawr!

Okay, so, that's the email I sent--five days ago--complete with a "virtual" mix cd!  And what was his response?  Uh, (shocker!) not a peep. Absolute, total radio silence. I mean, that's the ultimate humiliation in the annals of unrequited love. I have been rejected, categorically.  So, gentlemen, it does happen to girls.  And not just fugly, snaggle-toothed fat chicks--but girls like me. (Not that I'm that  hot or anything.  Even though, last night, a guy told me specifically that very thing.  But, he'd just seen me doing a stand up set (I didn't kill, but I got some laughs) and he could have been suffering from "groupie googles.")

I should stop going to bars. After all, I'm over the age of 30...  Okay, that's not going to happen. I should just trust my gag reflex when a guy triggers it within 7 seconds of meeting him.

It's my word, I coined it, I want credit for it!

Overshare

(verb) To give more information than is necessary (or appropriate) during a conversation--usually in a group setting. Although men are capable of the occasional "overshare," women are the most common offenders of this faux-pas--especially while on first dates with aloof douche bags.

Ladies, if you're on a date with a guy you've just met, don't "overshare." He doesn't want (or need) to hear about your valiant battle to overcome ANY of the following: eating disorder/catastrophic mental or physical health issue (of you or anyone in your immediate family)/rape/drug and/or alcohol and/or sex and/or shopping and/or gambling addiction/death of any member of your family (including pets). If you have no interest in seeing him ever again and want the date to end as quickly as possible, then by all means, share away!

(Note: if you are one of those people who likes to say "Ew, t.m.i.," whenever anyone reveals anything remotely personal or interesting or honest in public, fuck off, you're common and shallow and should be smothered in your sleep.)

I am the person who first thought of this word and would like for it someday replace the phrase, "Too Much Information" which is a rude and prissy expression, even if you shorten it to T.M.I. I think "overshare," is far less judgmental and insulting way to tell someone they need to ratchet it back a few notches...anyway, let me know what you think!

my stage name? The executioner.

God is Great...Unless You Happen to be Schizophrenic.

Whenever I see a Forensic Files or 48 Hours Investigation on some paranoid schizophrenic killing his entire family or his neighbors and their dog or someone sitting next to him on the subway, they always tell the police something along the lines of, "God commanded me to do it." It's weird. You never hear them say, "God told me to donate blood." Or, "God commanded me to do the dishes." (If you've seen the interior of any of these schizophrenic's homes, you KNOW housekeeping chores have never been high on God's list of demands for them.) It's always, "God told me that to save my soul I must hack Mr. and Mrs. Swanson into tiny pieces and feed them to my goldfish..." It makes me further question not just the existence of God, but to consider the fact that if there was an all-powerful, all-knowing God, he might be not such a great guy after all...

Mark Your Calendars!

I will be performing at the 3 of Clubs on Tuesday, August 4th. Every Tuesday they have a bunch of comedians performing standup routines that aren't just funny...they're hee-lair-ious. Comedy that makes to spray their cocktails out of their noses and teeter on the edge of incontinence (in some extreme--or elderly--cases) the atmosphere is really fun, the crowd is really hip and smart and best of all: NO COVER CHARGE and no drink minimum!

As if you needed anymore reason to go to such a pimpin' venue--did I mention that on Tuesday, August 4th will feature an appearance by yours truly!? That's right...you can hear my comedy stylings someplace besides the law library of the Office of the Federal Public Defender or while talking to me on the phone or accepting my im's while composing your facebook update.

Seeu there!

My first yelp!

814 Broadway
Santa Monica, CA 90401
(310) 394-3504

Bodega Wine Bar

Category: Wine Bars
Neighborhood: Santa Monica

6/28/2009

Sadly, I don't get to go out as often as I'd like, so, I was pretty excited when a cute boy took me to have a drink at Bodega on Friday night. The bouncer, who (for around a minute) was my bff because he kept me from being the only person to notice a woman's outfit that was so bewildering, I would have suffered miserably had I been the only person observant enough to appreciate it and make fun of it. (The woman left when I arrived, it's not like I was pointing at her and laughing or anything.)

Inside, the patrons of the bar were far less interesting or fun as the bouncer. The dj (DJ Wildcat, if I heard him right...) was playing amazing music and no one was dancing. Because no one was dancing, I felt too embarrassed to ask my date to dance...it made me sad, because I wanted to show him my moves!

Anyway, it was weird. I don't know if people weren't dancing because the 'dance floor' is roughly the size of a dinner plate or if they weren't dancing because they're really robots, posing as young urban professionals. So, i just had to sit there in my chair and try not to wiggle about or look like that dumb chick in the Mitsubishi commerical--but that's fucking hard when you hear your favorite Justice song (no, not D.A.N.C.E.!! Go a little deeper in their iTunes list, please!)...mashed with some ridiculously topical Michael Jackson song that I can't remember right now. Brilliant. Go for the atmosphere and the terrific staff--but bring your own group of friends, because the people who go to this bar don't deserve it.