Andres sits on his couch watching tv, thinking "He totally got that dachsund to calm down. I love this guy. He truly is the Dog Whisp..."

RING!

ANDRES
Hello? I what? But I don't know how to...Mmm hmm. Yeah but this must be a mistake because fine I'll be there.

Andres hangs up and looks into the camera.

ANDRES
I made Olympus Fashion Week!

Andres puts his hands to his cheeks a la that albino kid from 'Home Alone'.

CUT TO: Andres in front of a white background, addressing the camera.

ANDRES
Wow. My own runway show. This is a dream come true. Unfortunately, it's the dream of a talented and dedicated fashion designer, not me. There has been a terrible mistake. That being said, my Fall line shall be called "Manman."

CUT TO: Andres in a fabric store, his arms full of cloth. He is talking to a diminutive clerk.

ANDRES
Do you guys have any pre-made...pants?

CLERK
No this is a fabric store and why are you holding our curtains?

Pan back to show that Andres is just holding the store's curtains, still attached to the curtain rod. He lets go and they fall back into place. He smiles.

CUT TO Andres in the um...work...place where they build the clothes. Designers fret to and fro, clothes hang on manequins, sewing machines buzz like giant mechanical gay bees, etc. Andres is reading an L.L. Bean catalog. Tim Gunn sweeps majestically into the room.

TIM GUNN
Designers, gather round. This is it. You've got one week to pull this together - your signature look. This is your opportunity to make your mark on the runway.

ANDRES
Yeah if you eat some bad fish before the show. Then you'll heh. Make heh heh. A mark on the runway.

They all stare.

Beat.

ANDRES
A diarrhea mark.

CUT TO Andres back at the fabric store, comparing swatches of corduroy.

ANDRES
The whole Manman look is going to be corduroy-based. I want every surface of every one of my garments to be in a constant state of friction. You'll know it's Manman when you hear "voot voot voot". (he rubs two swatches of corduroy together, listening) Hear that? Voot. Voot voot. (he rubs them faster and faster and then suddenly the fabric bursts into flames.)

The clerk blasts Andres with a fire extinguisher.

CUT TO Andres in Central Park with a pair of binoculars.

ANDRES
(as he looks through binoculars) I'm just here at the park for some inspiration.

CUT TO a view through the binoculars of an L.L. Bean catalog being read by someone a hundred yards away.

CUT TO the work area.

TIM GUNN
Designers, we're giving you eight fewer days, all of the outfits have to be edible, we're bringing back Vincent and Allison, Vincent you're out please pack up your things, and I'm sending in your models. Oh and forget the edible thing. Allison you're out.

The models all whisp into the room. CUT TO our hero and his model:

ANDRES
(on his cell) Hello L.L. Bean? I'd like the Carefree Corduroy Khakis, as large as possible. Frump cut. And if there's some way to make them "extra tan" I'd appreciate it.

KINININI
You are soothing my sore, acid-torn esophagus with the cooling lozenge of disappointment.

CUT TO the runway show, Kininini saunters down the stage, both of her legs inside one leg of the giant khakis, the other leg flipped up and over her torso like a giant corduroy sash.

HOLY SHIT...does this count as fan fiction? I might as well put Boba Fett in here somewhere. Alright, chalk this up to another post I'll never finish. I'm rooting for Uli, by the way.

I'm watching 'Studio 60 In The Hallway Banter Fest' here, and it strikes me that Aaron Sorkin should just write a show about mice in a maze. That way, every single scene could involve mice arguing with each other while briskly scurrying down hallways.

If the ratings start to sag?

BOOM. They find the cheese.

I am der IDEAMEISTER.

I like the above painting. Oh and also IT'S BY HITLER.

Yep. Adolf Hitler painted it. And yes, I legitimately like it. Makes me think, what if Hitler had received some lucky breaks as a young, struggling artist, maybe snagging a good review here or there, or settling under the patronage of a wealthy art enthusiast who could encourage him to continue his life pursuing painting and not...eliminating swaths of innocent people? Perhaps history would have unfolded very differently? Perhaps Hitler could have developed into a successful, popular and influential artist whose work would still be appreciated today? Perhaps then some of the following statements wouldn't seem odd at all:

"Honey, this field of wheat is gorgeous! It's like something Hitler would have painted!"

or

"But not all of the credit can go to Durzier's direction. Garth Tahiko's cinematography is almost a character unto itself - lush and suffused with an unearthly color pallet, as if Adolf Hitler himself had reached down from the hallowed halls of heaven reserved for the true masters and allowed some small part of himself to become imbued in the very celluloid. Yes, while watching 'Love, Spirit, Grace' I could not help but think to myself "Hitler, Hitler, Hitler."

and of course

Washington, D.C. - Today the Smithsonian Institute announced that three large works by Adolf Hitler would grace the main antechamber of the new PABLO PICASSO HOLOCAUST MUSEUM YES NATURE ABHORS A VACUUM WHEN ADOLF HITLER WENT ON TO BECOME A FAMOUS ARTIST INSTEAD OF A GENOCIDAL MADMAN THE SCALES OF HISTORY TILTED WILDLY UNTIL THEY CAME AGAIN INTO BALANCE WITH THE EMERGENCE OF MURDEROUS PSYCHOPATH PABLO PICASSO WHO WOULD GO ON TO CONQUER HALF OF EUROPE AND SLAUGHTER SIX MILLION SWEDES IN WHAT WOULD LATER BE TERMED THE PICASSO HOLOCAUST THE SWEDES WOULD THEN USE THIS TRAGIC PAST AS THEIR PRESENT MOTIVATION AND GO ON TO RULE HOLLYWOOD USHERING IN THE GOLDEN AGE OF FILMS ABOUT QUALITY FURNITURE.

See? Butterfly in China, my friends. Butterfly in China.

Which body spray do you think I should wear?

Axe
Tag
Haunch
Hind
Mount
Swag
Poob
Dik
Sproing
Throb
Oof
Fuk
Newd
Loob
Skyn
Tox
Zenis
Peen
Nads
Mate
Pike
Lay
Hung
Clench
Jyz
Gag

Tony Camin, Chris Parnell, me, Pete Holmes, and Leo Allen from l to r
(photo by Anya Garrett - check out the rest at sketchartists.net)

I did a show this past Monday called "Broin' Out" at the UCB. I always get excited/nervous to do shows at that theater, because I consider it to be the center of comedy in NYC. I often dwell on whether or not I'd be really successful by now if I had come up through their system as opposed to bouncing around in obscurity. Maybe that's just arrogance. Anyhow, at this point it's moot - I'm confident I'll be making a decent living at being funny before I'm...40. Well. This post hasn't gotten off to a very promising start. Let's get to the marbles*, shall we?

I played my blind character, Cash Brulee, which was a bit awkward since I was the only character in the show. Everyone else was themselves. Just broin' out. So I felt like I maybe stood out as the one dork with "schtick", but I did still manage to get plenty of laughs from the tragically young, ironic, and hard to please audience. During the interview portion of my bit, Leo asked me why a blind man has a notebook and pen in his shirt pocket. I acted uncomfortable. Little did the audience know that this was a setup for a bit! I acted grumpy about it, and told Leo to go ahead and read it out loud. Here is what it said:

May 3, 2002
Praise The Lord! After 30 years of darkness, I can see again! Now I can keep a non-textured journal, as I've always wanted. If it weren't for that coconut falling on my head, who knows how long I would have remained blind. Coming here to the Bahamas has worked out exactly as I had planned. Now I just have to avoid getting hit in the head by any other coco

(the rest of the page is blank, and I tell Leo to turn the page)

Wow! Three coconuts in one afternoon! My head sure hurts, but my blessed eyesight is back once and for

(the rest of the page is blank again)

Then I say "That was the infamous day of four coconuts."

Well, maybe you had to be there, but I enjoyed it.

*Just made that phrase up. Go ahead, use it. I'm generous like that. "Hey babe, let's get to the marbles!"

Join my book club! Each week we will discuss a new book. By which I mean, I WILL DISCUSS IT AND YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME DISCUSS IT AT YOU! Trust me - I have become great at discussing things at people. Just ask the good people of Venezuela! We have had a long, glorious relationship of me sharing what I say are their ideas at them!

EACH WEEK A NEW BOOK! I am Hugo Chavez!

As per my drunken notebook dumping ways, here is the opening from tonight's GTN:

Ladies and gentlemen, before we start the show I just want to say a couple of quick things. As many of you know, Steve "The Crocodile Hunter" Irwin was a good friend of Giant Tuesday Night of Amazing Inventions and Also There is A Game!!! Through his tireless efforts, he taught us all that only through playfully teasing, cajoling, taunting, wrangling with, and sometimes sitting directly on top of nature while it tries to get away, can we truly appreciate it. Well, Steve was scheduled to be tonight's opening act - as we all know, he was tragically killed by a stingray during the filming of his latest nature special "Teasing The Deep".

Well, when we heard the terrible news, I immediately booked another opening act, another good friend of the show, Richard "The Tiger Kicker" Smith, whose tireless efforts showed us all that only through kicking things that are rare and beautiful can we can gain a true appreciation of nature. Unfortunately he too has passed away. While shooting his new nature special "High Kick - Kicking the Mountain Lions of the Colorado Rockies", he took a day off from shooting to visit the Denver Aquarium, where he was stung and killed by a stingray.

So then I booked Matt "The Hawk Puncher" Feldman. That booking was short-lived indeed, as seconds after I hung up with him, he was cornered in an alley by a gang of Hells Angels whose motorcycles he'd accidentally just tipped over while he was chasing a hawk that he wanted to punch. The bikers beat him to within an inch of his life and left him there to die. He would have lived, had a hawk that had just caught a stingray not been startled by the sudden starting of the motorcycles. As the Hell's Angels drove away, that hawk dropped that stingray onto Matt. Which stung him. Um. This was near the beach.

So then I booked Barney "The Murderer Cuckolder" Bromberg - who felt that the only way to fully appreciate nature was to cuckold murderers, i.e. sleep with the wives and girlfriends of as many murderers as possible. He was tragically killed when he was caught in bed with the wife of one James "The Stingray" Rabini, so named because he always carries around a live, angry stingray with which he kills his victims. However, on that day James "The Stingray" Rabini did not have his stingray with him, so he just ran Barney over with his car. The model of car? A Corvette Stingray.

So then I booked Larry "Hey fuck you Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson" Jones, a man who taught us all a great deal about the wonders of nature by repeatedly telling Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson to go fuck himself. And he should be here any second now...(phone rings)

Hello, Francisco Guglioni here, host of Giant Tuesday Night of Amazing Inv -- what? You're kidding me! Ah well. I guess it was just a matter of time. Good bye.

That was the coroner. Apparently Larry "Hey Fuck you Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson" Jones was just killed when he sat down to have a conciliatory salad with The Rock. It was a spinach salad. The spinach had not been cooked or washed properly. And there was a stingray in it.

(into GWF* opening)

*Shorthand for The Guy Who Farts When You Shake His Hand.

Heh. Tiger kicker.

I can do this because I am an 8 Class pilot with skyblogging clearance. I do this because I like to live on the edge, the edge that separates the terrestrial blogger and the guy like me who can write about his favorite recipes while streaking across the desert sky in my em-effing SKY PANTHER WHOAH LOOK OUT BOGIES!

Cilantro. Favorite herb.

Last night was the season premiere of GTN, and here's the sketch that kicked the show off. It was a blast:

TOO MANY GUITARS!
(for the 9/12/2006 GTN)

TMG were:
Mark Douglas
Andres du Bouchet
Kimmy Gatewood
Chris Principe
Michael Reisman
Steve Rosenthal

[all of the guitarists take the stage, Andres in front, the others in a semicircle around him]

ANDRES
Good evening! I am Tornado Explosion Sanchez, and we are Too Many Guitars!

ALL GUITARISTS
Too Many Guitars!

MARK
(lagging) Guitars!

ANDRES
How is everyone doing tonight? I said, how is everyone doing tonight? I take it that means you are doing well? I said, I take it by your previous response that you are doing well? Is everyone doing as well as they had hoped to be doing at this point in your lives? Does everyone think things will improve for them in the long run? Is everyone ready to hang in there? Trust me, life will get better if you are careful not to make any terrible choices! OKAY! And a one, and a two, and a one two three let's tune up!

[we all tune our guitars for a few beats]

ANDRES
Okay let's do it!

[Everyone starts to strum as Andres sings]

ANDRES
Giant Tuesday Night of...wait. WAIT! Stop everyone stop!

[they all stop. beat]

ANDRES
I do not know how to play the guitar!

ALL GUITARISTS
Oh no!

ANDRES
Damn! I never learned how to play the guitar, and I am only now just finding that out now. I feel like a pet without a laser! Well, this is awkward. Does anyone here know how to play guitar?

[ONLY Kimmy, Mark, and Reisman raise their hands]

ANDRES
Instead of Too Many Guitars, we should have called ourselves Not Enough Guitarists. (to Kimmy) Okay then you sing the opening song.

KIMMY
(starts to sing) Giant Tuesday Night...wait! I know how to play the guitar, but I do not know this song!

ALL GUITARISTS
Ah crap!

ANDRES
More and more I am unconvinced that any of us have ever practiced as a band or even met before this night! (to Reisman) You -- sing the GTN theme song!

REISMAN
(plays song correctly but intentionally sings very poorly) Giant Tuesday Night of Amazing Inventions, and also there is a...

ANDRES
Stop! Stop! What are you doing?

REISMAN
I know how to play the guitar, and I know the song, but my singing is the worst!

ALL GUITARISTS
Ah Fuck me!

CHRIS
I can do it!

ANDRES
But you didn't raise your hand when I asked who could play the guitar!

CHRIS
That is because I am a liar!

ANDRES
Then do it!

CHRIS
No!

ANDRES
Why not?

CHRIS
Because in addition to being a liar, I am also an asshole! (he steps back)

ALL GUITARISTS
Fair enough!

ANDRES
Then it's up to you (to Mark)

[Marks rocks it out and the show starts]

Here's my idea for the 9/11 Memorial - it's very simple, and will take many, many years to look beautiful. Or like anything, really. First, clear out the site of all equipment and structures, and fill in the ground around what would be the WTC footprints, creating two massive, square craters where the towers formerly stood. Then, simply create a flat, cobblestone plaza around the WTC footprints, with a nice, wraught-iron fence around the perimeter of each one to prevent people from falling into the holes. Maybe have a few viewing platforms with swiveling binoculaurs so people can get a better view down into the depressions. And there you go, that's it. Let nature have her way with the pits. This will take a looong time, as it's not exactly potting soil down there. But eventually, some plants will start to sprout up. Some flowers and trees will start to grow. Over time, the two massive square holes will each contain a small forest, the crowns of the trees emerging above the viewing level. The Parks department can prune and tend to whatever plant life spills out of the holes, but the bulk of the vegetation in the pits is free to grow unchecked, wild. It might take a hundred years. But that's my idea.

An alternate idea? The same exact thing, except the trees are planted in the holes. Massive trees. Maybe sequioas, those incredibly huge redwood trees from California. Ooh. That might be a better idea. The two WTC footprints with these enormous forests growing out of them.

Have a nice day, everyone.

Every day, millions of pets nationwide continue to exist in a state of laserlessness. Help us help laserless pets by giving generously to the Pets Without Lasers Foundation, a foundation whose noble goal since 1999 has been to provide a desperately needed laser to every pet without one. Consider these statistics:

Since THE YEAR PETS WERE INVENTED, none of them have ever had lasers.

A staggering figure. A trend that must be stopped if we are to ensure the laserfulness of our pets and our children's pets. Giving is easy. Simply give $100 in cash to Andres du Bouchet the next time you see him, and he'll make sure that your money goes to the Pets Without Lasers Foundation, a foundation whose singular pursuit of providing pets with lasers has taken precedence over even the most basic steps of setting up a foundation, such as registering any sort of a mailing address or phone number. Simply give the cash to Andres.

Each month, you'll see your money go to work providing Andres with new sneakers, a nice corduroy jacket, and spiffy glasses. Tangible proof that we've begun providing lasers to pets that need lasers, and that those pets with lasers have now started using them in ways we can barely fathom to improve Andres' warddrobe. And home entertainment system.

NADS
Nads is a 3-year old Jack Russell Terrier owned by one Peter "Zaxxon" Feldman, a Williamsburg resident who makes a living frowning at music. Listen to his heartfelt testimonial: "My dog Nads totally has a laser now, and I am seriously freaking the fuck out. Alright I gotta jam, Duran At Work is playing 80s night at The Droop and I'm supposed to be there frowning from 10-1."

SARANDON
Sarandon is an 11-year old weimaraner owned by one Sarandon Nichols, an Upper East Side resident who makes a living chastising baristas. Listen to her heartfelt testimonial: "No. No, I specifically said skim."

Still not convinced? Hi. I'm Andres du Bouchet. Do you like my new sneakers? Anyway, since 1999 I've been UH-OH SNACK ATTACK END OF POST.