You Had To Be There

One Question For God

2007-06-14T11:33:00.000-04:00

I need your help on something guys.

I am involved in a film/book project that involves itself with this central question:

IF YOU COULD ASK GOD ONE QUESTION, WHAT WOULD YOU ASK?

I need to pose this question to as many people as possible. 1000 is not too many. The question needs to go out to the average person like you and me as well as celebrities, politicians, world leaders and religious figures. Everybody.

I need to to ask welders, journalists, moms, kids, atheists, teachers, prisoners, clergy, landscapers, race car drivers, Christians, Jews, Muslims, astronauts, actors, bee keepers, prostitutes and you.

Please answer here. Leave your first name, city and state as well as your age and occupation. If you don't want to make your answer public, you can write to me in private at Blaze@TommyBlazeComic.com.

Finally, please forward this page to as many people as you can. With your help, this question can be answered by people from all walks of life from all over the world.

Thanks for your help.

********UPDATE***********

Thank you all for taking the time to read and respond to my question. Many of you chose to write to me personally and I will respect your privacy. I am working on a project that will that hopefully will evolve into a screenplay. Below is a mock trailer that gives you an idea of the tone and theme. You'll probably see your question there. Once again, thank you very much.

To watch the video, go to the link below to visit my MySpace page.

-Blaze

http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=36042011&blogID=264420708&MyToken=ada262e7-3562-42e4-86f1-71ca2aa7623a

This Is Not In The Daddy Manual

2006-02-02T09:08:00.000-05:00

I know my next blog is supposed to be Part III of "If Ya' Wanna' Know if He Loves You So". I am aware. But there's other stuff on my mind right now. And - I need your help.

Last week the whole family was outside in the front yard. It was a nice day. Mama was holding the baby, my seven year old daughter was playing with the family dog and I was chatting with a neighbor probably about fertilizer or weeds.

Some neighborhood boys were playing nearby and in an attempt to impress them, my daughter wanted to walk the dog around the cul-de-sac. She grabbed the dog around the collar and off she went. I remember casually glancing over in her direction and saying “That’s probably not a good idea..” I don’t think she heard me. I wonder now if I even said it or was I just thinking it.

About two minutes later we heard the screaming.

Now, only a parent or someone who lives in a neighborhood with children is going to understand this, but kids scream. A lot. They scream when they are happy, they scream when they chase each other and they scream when someone’s underwear is showing. As an adult, you get used to hearing it. Its kind of like the whole car alarm thing. You continue what you’re doing, waiting for someone to turn the damn thing off, never believing someone’s car is actually being stolen.

A few seconds later I realized nobody was going to turn the screaming off.

I listened carefully to see if I could tell exactly what was being screamed and by who and if it had anything to do with underwear. I wasn’t aware of it, but somewhere during this process my legs started moving towards the yelling. A shot of adrenaline later and I was running.

I turned the corner and saw a five year old from across the street coming my way. Her face registered that blank but troubled expression little children get when something bad has happened, but they don’t yet have the ability to tell you exactly what without three months of hypnosis. Not a good sign.

A few steps later my eyes sent the following information to my brain:

The screaming is coming from your daughter. My brain said, “Oh God.”
Your daughter is standing, she seems to still be in possession of all four limbs and there is no blood. My brain said, “Thank God.”
Your dog is there too. She is sitting. She is staring at a rolled up throw rug laying on your next door neighbor’s lawn. My brain locked up at this image. “You’re breaking up. Resend. It sounded like you said a rug.”

Two steps closer. “Correction - not a rug, but a very large, long hair cat. A bloody, mangled and mauled long hair cat.”

Finally, my brain grasped the situation and took over.

“Roger. Okay people listen up! We got a code Orange in progress. Memory! Search for information about what to do when animals are fighting. Instinct! Instinct - damn it wake up! Go into Protect Mode and get this guy in between the dog and his daughter. STAT! I need the adrenal gland to give me a couple shots of testosterone to show this canine bitch who the alpha male is. Eyes - what’s going on out there? Talk to me!”

“The dog has assumed a submissive posture. The cat is dying. The daughter is hysterical.”

“Copy that. I need some compassion and sensitivity here people! Testosterone - stand down! Androgen! Estrogen! Stop cuddling and comfort the kid. Common Sense! Tell this sorry bastard to remove his daughter from the scene immediately.”

By this time the whole neighborhood had turned out to witness the carnage. My dog had decided maybe she had done a no-no and ran off to hide under the bed. The cat was drooling bloody saliva and was in shock, its paw painfully hanging by a thread. The cat’s owner, somehow oblivious to the riot that had just transpired on his front lawn, finally came outside and tried to put the cat back together. M wife, whose brain works faster mine, had already seen my daughter home.

After I admitted to myself I wasn’t a veterinarian and there was nothing more I could do, I too returned home to find my daughter crying in her bed. She had just watched her pet maul someone else’s pet. Tough for a 7 year old. Tough for me. I said all the right parent type things - I hope. I assured her, comforted her and told her everything would be alright.

Now I have to tell her the cat has died after a $3000 surgery. She’s not going to take it well.

Some of you like to comment after reading one of these blogs. Today I ask you comment to her - help her if you can. Her name is Delaney and she knows who all of you are. You are the people who daddy makes laugh at his job. She’d appreciate it.

Thanks.

If Ya' Wanna' Know If He Loves You So... Part 2

2006-01-21T18:54:00.000-05:00

How You Know If A Man Really Loves You.

First, lets talk about common myths and misconceptions. The following are beliefs held by people just like you, normal and otherwise intelligent women who have been led astray, hoodwinked and run amuck by Hollywood, the music industry and Hallmark. Some of these beliefs are echoed amidst the comments in Part One of this very blog. They are what led me to start this particular post in the first place.

Category #1 Love Gives The Ability To Read Minds

“If you have to ask, then he doesn’t.”
“You don't have to keep asking them
"What are you thinking" you will know…”
“If you don’t feel loved, then you are not.”

Love will not endow a man with telepathy. Odds are he wont know shit unless you tell him - many times. Even then, he might not believe you.

Category #2 Love Will Turn Him Into a Woman

“He will call you to see how your day is going and not just to tell you about his.”
“He won't be afraid to do girlie things like bubble baths, cuddling,
washing your hair, cooking dinner, because he too will long for these things.”
“You deserve someone who is nice to you all the time.”

…and then we’ll lay in bed and I’ll polish your toenails…

Sorry ladies, love does not make a man grow a clitoris. And who in your life has ever been nice to you all of the time?

Category # 3 Love Will Make Him Change

“He wont want to (fill in the blank) anymore.”
“Love will make him grow up”
“He will appreciate the little things I do.”

Probably the most damaging assumption ever. He may very well change, but you’ll have nothing to do with it. Besides, if you don’t like who he is right now, then why do you care if he loves you anyway? And while I appreciate the little things my wife does, they rarely get the reaction she was hoping for. I am just not impacted by the same things in the same way as she is.

All of these things, however sweet, are not reliable indicators of male love. He may from time to time employ one or all of the above, but my guess it’s just a tactic.

Contrary to conventional wisdom, when a man is truly in love he will act more masculine.
It's important you understand this point, ladies. It's worth repeating:

Love will stir up and arrouse his most masculine tendancies.

Or, at the very least, Love will try.

Love will dial the number but it can't make him answer the call.

So, Best Beloved, you ask "What are the signlas I should look for?" "What are these masculine traits that will become arroused?" "How will he behave differently when he is in truly in love?"

"Get to the fucking point Joke Boy and stop dicking us around!"

I will.

Soon.

If Ya' Wanna Know If He Loves You So....

2006-01-21T18:46:00.000-05:00

Watch a woman when she enters a party or restaurant.

Her eyes scan her surroundings, quickly darting from left to right as she absorbs and processes all the details and tiny bytes of information that are invisible to men. Instantly she knows who is happy and who hates their outfit; who is jealous of who, which couples are truly in love and which are on borrowed time.

Her internal Geiger counter starts clicking madly as she gets closer to all the little dramas that unfold during any social gathering. Sometimes she experiences a momentary glitch, some tiny fact gets jammed somewhere along her information highway and fails to process correctly. But help is soon on the way. She’ll lock eyes with another woman and send out a distress signal. Data is immediately beamed across the room, filling in the blanks.

“Oooh - The blonde girl with the black pants thinks her boyfriend is sleeping with the chick in the heels, but he’s really having sex with the blonde’s sister who is bi-curious and wants a threesome with the him and the woman who runs the tanning salon on Federal Highway. Got it. Thanks.”
Because they are hyper aware and sensitive to their social surroundings women can typically sum up a situation long before men know it even exists.

Unless…

…its about them and the men in their lives.

When it comes to their own relationships, women are suddenly struck deaf and blind. For some reason they can’t read the writing on the wall - they can’t even see the wall! They stumble through the dark and murky terrain of their own heart, desperately grasping for any tiny clue, no matter how insignificant, to get some kind of foothold that offers clarity. If there is a lack of information, they will dig and scrape for a tiny morsel. They’ll even create it!

Guys, have you ever had a woman hear stuff you never said? Or have you ever mumbled some trivial, insignificant shit like, “I’m hungry,” only to have the woman ask, “What do you mean by that?” Have you ever felt that every single thing you have ever said or done is being recorded by an invisible stenographer that may or may not be used against you in a court of law?

That’s because it is.

The music industry has capitalized on women’s frustration with songs like When A Man Loves A Woman, How Will I Know and It’s In His Kiss. Hollywood has come to the rescue with countless romances and love stories that claim to portray a man who is truly in love.

They compare us to those men, fellahs. Yeah - I know. It sucks.

Women are so clueless when it comes to this area they finally wrote a book for them spelling it out; He’s Just Not That Into You. It sold a million copies over night. The same women who can listen to and decode four conversations at once, needed a BOOK to explain to them what it means when a man says, “Go away.”

But still they don’t get it. Briefly peruse the pages of MySpace and you will see an abundance of profiles and blogs containing pages of confusion, frustration and misinformation.

That’s why I’m here.

Ladies, I’m going to straighten you out and once and for all end this. I am going to answer the age old question; How Do I Know If He Really Loves Me?

In my next blog.

Since Nobody Else Will Say It

2006-01-15T03:33:00.000-05:00

I'm sure you all remember the story "The Emperor's New Clothes" where a rather dandy ruler was convinced by some pretty sharp designers that the height of fashion this season was to wear outfits made of invisible thread. The Emperor, not wanting to appear out of the loop, proudly walked the streets is his newly designed outfit made from this magic fabric. The townsfolk, also not wanting to seem un-hip or not cool, offered their appreciation until a lone child, too young to care what others thought of him, pointed out the obvious stating the Emperor was in fact, naked. As soon as the town saw it was okay to actually voice what they all thought anyway, the Emperor was exposed - so to speak.

Have you ever felt like that child? Has it ever seemed that you were the only one in the whole world not to get it and that, well, since everyone else seems to be on board, you must be the crazy one?

I haven’t. My ego wont allow me to assume I am the crazy one. I, rather, am more comfortable assuming most people think the way I do, but for whatever reason opt to either remain silent on the issue or find it easier and less stressful to just go along with the flow.

I am going to test this theory by occasionally including in my blog a series called “Since Nobody Else Will Say It, I Will.” Please let me know which items you agree with as I will include them in my stand up show. If you all disagree with most of what I think, then I’ll just assume all of you are nuts.

1) Bill Murray starred in a film directed by Sofia Coppola called Lost in Translation. The movie won many awards and was critically acclaimed. I thought the movie sucked. Someone told me the film makes more sense if you are familiar with Japanese subculture. Well, they should have put that in the trailer along with a side note saying The Life Aquatic is going to suck too.

2) The movie Sideways also sucked. And the last three Star Wars weren’t nearly as good as the first three. Well enough should have been left alone.

3) Fuck Wal-Mart. It’s too big, too greedy and too damaging to the American economy.

4) There is a part of me that really hopes Michael Jackson didn’t do any of the terrible things he was accused of doing.

5) Elvis Presley was neither an exemplary musician, song writer or vocalist and somehow he is considered the greatest entertainer of our time and the undisputed King of Rock and Roll. I’m okay with that.

6) I don’t think most tattoos come out the way people thought they would. Tattoo removal is going to be a billion dollar industry in the years to come.

7) Two women making out on the dance floor is not hot. It’s a shame.

8) It’s not that you’re getting old. Today’s music just sucks.

9) Remember the days when a woman wouldn’t show her belly in public if it hung out over the top of her jeans? I wish we’d go back to that.

10) I would never admit it in public and I’ll deny it if you repeat it, but Country music rocks.

11) 99.9%f the time I oppose war and the use of violence to solve conflict and ideological differences. But sometimes, late at night, when no one else is looking…

I have caught myself wishing that on September 12, 2001 we would have leveled the Middle East and turned it into the 51st state. By now, there’d be casinos there and no one would ever mess with us again.

There. I said it.

Men First. Women and Children Wait Their Turn

2006-01-06T04:38:00.000-05:00

I checked my facts on this one Best Beloved. I called a half dozen therapists and confirmed a suspicion I have long held. Generally speaking, women want their men to start acting a certain way while men report they’d be happier if women stopped behaving they way they already do.

Women want their men to start appreciating them more, start helping out around the house, start being more romantic, start spending more time with them, start listening to them, start dancing, start being more responsible, start reading their minds, start “acting like you give a damn about me!”

Men want their women to stop nagging, stop complaining, stop bitching, stop overreacting, stop overanalyzing, stop screaming, stop spending, stop freaking out, (did I mention nagging?) stop throwing things, stop criticizing and “Damn it - stop talking so damn much!”

Let’s review:

Women want men to be less passive and complacent and to be more proactive. Dr. Phil seems to support this notion when he says, “If you’re not doing anything to help your relationship then you’re hurting it.”

Men want women to get off their backs and basically shut the hell up. At press time, Dr. Phil was unavailable for comment.

Here’s the kicker. Women say they would complain less if they got what they wanted from a man. Likewise, men say they’d be more inclined to fill the role of dutiful husband if women would get off their backs and shut the hell up.

A Mexican Standoff. This is where most relationships wallow until they ultimately and most assuredly, end miserably. Each party waiting for the other to go first.

Most of you are already familiar with my feelings about a man’s role as the leader of the family and the head of his household. So it should come as no surprise when I say the man should initiate these proceedings because he is ultimately responsible for the family’s overall happiness and well being.

Men, ask yourselves WWMD? (What Would Mufasa Do)

Would he wait for Sarabi to make the first move? Oh Hell no! He would rise up. Take charge - for he is king of his castle. He would say, “I do these things for you my Queen because they honor you and hold you high and so that you will know I love you and place no other before you and so you will get off my back and shut the hell up.”

Because that’s what men do.

They go first.

They crawl into the ground to put food on the table. They breathe in dirt so their families don’t have to. When things look bad they say, “Well boys, we’ve had our run - lets give the oxygen tank to the young one - he’s still got children to feed.”

And in the end, in the last minutes of life, they leave notes for their families to ease the burden of their passing. “It wasn’t bad. I just went to sleep. I love you.”

Because that’s what men do. They go first, so their loved ones don’t have to.

Thomas P. Anderson
Alva Martin Bennett
Jim Bennett
Jerry Groves
Jesse L. Jones
David Lewis
George Hamner, Jr.
Terry Helms
Marin Toler
Fred Ware, Jr.
Jack Weaver
Marshall Winans

Yeah, I’m proud to be a man today.

Strength and Beauty

2005-12-19T11:10:00.000-05:00

On Strength and Beauty
Current mood: Inspired
Category: Romance and Relationships

"Are you strong enough to be my man?" ----Sheryl Crow

"Beauty will save the world." --- Fyodor Dostoyevsky

There are some pictures of women here on MySPace that captivate me. Not all of them are in bathing suits or half naked - not all of them - sometimes it's just a picture of her neck. Every time I pass them though, I have to stop. And I stare. I can't help it. I don't think I want to help it.

Every man reading this knows exactly what I'm talking about. Feminine beauty has such an awesome and powerful effect on men that even gay men are not immune. The feminine visage moves men in a way women can never understand. If I stare at the pictures too long, I get agitated and antsy. I find myself compelled to get up and do something.

Beauty inspires men. It motivates us to be the best we can be. Remember when Jack Nicholson said "You make me want to be a better man" in the movie As Good As It Gets? The women thought that was a sweet thing to say, but the men watching the film knew exactly what Jack was talking about. It wasn't sweet! It was the truth.

The essence of man is strength. Look at the effect of masculine strength on women. Does a picture do it for them? Are they trying to look up our pant legs? They may go on and on about a guy's cute butt, but they have no idea what their butts mean to men!

No - what makes a woman's knees weak is William Wallace in Braveheart or Aragorn in Lord of the Rings. Women respond to men who come through for them, who take charge of the situation and risk all to protect them. To experience the strength of a man is to have him speak on a woman's behalf. For when men abuse with words, she is pierced. His strength has wounded her. When he is silent, she is starved - he has offered no strength; he has abandoned her. But when he speaks with her, hears her, offers his words to her and on her behalf, something in her heart is able to rest.

Do I need to say it? That strength and beauty are not only about muscles and makeup? A man who is only physically strong is a hollow man. A woman who is only physically beautiful is a shallow woman. Ultimately, both will disappoint.

I say it here: Strength is what the world needs from men, for it is the essence of man. And the world - ah - the world so terribly and desperately needs beauty, for it is the essence of woman.

A man says to a woman, "With these hands and this heart I will fight for you. I will defend you, body and soul. I will take the bullet for you. Rest now."

A woman says to a man, "I will invite you in. I will nourish and comfort you, soothe and heal you. I will give you greater purpose."

Tis the Season To Chill.

2005-12-19T11:05:00.000-05:00

***DISCLAIMER! THIS BLOG IS ABOUT CHRISTMAS. IF THIS OFFENDS YOU, YOU ARE ADVISED TO LEAVE NOW. PROCEED AT YOUR OWN PERIL. YOU’VE BEEN WARNED.***

So its all in the news - again - there are folks out there down on Christmas. They want to sue someone over a nativity scene or having a Christmas tree in the classroom. You know what? Lighten the fuck up. Since when has this ever been a country of atheists? You're in America now and most people like their Christmas here. Smarten up or shut up.

There's a quick fix to most of this. For instance, my daughter's school as just got rid of the whole "Happy holiday" thing because its offensive to those who don't celebrate holidays, like the Jehovah’s Witnesses. Well this one is easy - get rid of the Jehovah’s Witnesses. Who the hell invited them anyway. It’s not like we went knocking at their doors.

On the other side you’ve got those picketing Wal-Mart because they don’t say Christmas anymore. You got Christian lawyers out there suing because decorations on public property are too secular. Okay. You need to lighten the fuck up too. We’ve turned the most enchanting holiday into a political bitch slap.

Since when has Wal-Mart had anything to do with Christmas? “But Tommy, they’re trying to stop Christmas.“ They’ve been trying to do that since the first Christmas! Nobody can take Christmas away. The gift was given and it sticks. No mortal can break the contract.

Yes - it comes every year.

Whether we deserve it or not.

Because its not about trees or Merry this and Happy that. Its not about lawsuits or even nativity scenes on courthouse lawns.

I’ll tell you what Christmas is all about Charlie Brown. Lights please…

It’s about a promise. It’s about faith; believing in things even when common sense tells you not to. It doesn’t matter if Macy’s aint got ‘em, because Santa can talk to the little Dutch girl anyway. It’s about the part where George Bailey’s lip starts bleeding again and he learns no man with friends is ever alone. It's about Casper, Melchior and Balthazar. Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen.

Now you can’t leave fuckers! I warned you. Sit down!

It’s about an island of toys and the part where the Bumble puts the star on the tree. It’s tiny tots and their eye’s all a glow and if reindeer really know how to fly. It’s about a silent and holy night, an angel hanging out with shepherds, wise men and a star. A boy so poor all he had to give was a song played on his drum. It's about the part where he says, "Are there no prisons? No workhouses?"; and then he buys the turkey "What, you mean the one as big as me?" and then the tiny chid says, "God bless us. Everyone!"

Ya’ll don’t hear me! I’m talking about how Linus sets them all straight and the Grinch finds out it came without boxes. It came without bags. It came without ribbons, stickers or tags; and then his heart grows so big it breaks the frame. It’s about a magic silk hat that can make a snowman dance! I’m talking about stockings hung with care and presents of gold, frankincense and myrrh and a BB gun that can take your eye out. Chestnuts roasting, bells on bobtails, white Christmas, blue Christmas - Christmas of red and green. It's about decking the halls and gay apparel even if you're not gay!

Best beloved; its about how he sold his watch and she cut off her hair. Or the part where Kris Kringle gives a yo-yo to the mayor of Sombertown, it’s about swaddling clothes and a manger. It's about an express trip to the North Pole aboard a magic train, it’s about still being able to HEAR THE SLEIGH BELL RING! Are you listening….?

Shhhh. Quiet now. Listen.

Its about peace on Earth - goodwill toward men.

It's Not Too Late For Christmas

2005-11-29T20:56:00.000-05:00

The malls are already decked out for Christmas. I don’t mind. They could stay that way all year and it would suit me just fine.

My 7 year old daughter spots a store that sells chocolate, the name escapes me now - it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s a chocolate store. Christmas and candy - what could be better? So I get pulled in. Immediately, we see a bin of chocolate reindeers. “Do you think Santa made these?” she asks.

I get it. While a chocolate reindeer is sure to taste sweet, chocolate reindeers made at the North Pole by elves under the watchful eye of the Big “C” - well that’s pure magic. “I dunno’,” I say, “Let’s check.”

Behind the counter are two typical kids in their 20’s. One Male, one Female. They come equipped with al the standard features of today’s post adolescent; tattoos, body piercings, dyed hair and low riding pants - all of the accessories needed to make them look “unique”.

“Excuse me,” I say cheerfully to the Female who is sporting a tattoo of a butterfly just above her right breast. I am tempted to tell her that one day that butterfly is going to look like a turkey, but instead I say, “Those reindeers - are they made at the North Pole?” My daughter looks up expectantly.

The Female smirks. She starts to speak and I spot the flash of a tongue piercing.

“No, thir, all of duh candy ith made here.” My daughter takes it well, no biggie. But I press on. Perhaps the Female didn’t hear me. Maybe all of that stolen music she’s downloaded off the net has damaged her ear drums, suggesting there really is something to Karma.

“Are you sure, because they really look like they were made by Santa.” I think I even allowed myself to wink at her.

Now the Male swaggers over. Yes, he swaggered. “No, everything is made in house.”

Are they trying to be stupid? I used a different tact. “Well maybe you sell other things made by Santa. You know…Santa - Santa Claus?”

Now they think I’m stupid. They look at each other like they may have to call security and at that moment, I almost suggested they should because I wanted to hurt them both. Very much.

I inhaled, smiled and wished them both Merry Christmas. My daughter and returned to the mall.

I’m not mad anymore. They don’t get it. I feel sorry for them.

There are many different kinds of magic associated with Christmas. Two come to mind as I write this.

Faith and Hope.

Faith is when you get it.

I Hope one day, they get it.

I Know What I Am Supposed To Say...

2005-11-23T15:07:00.000-05:00

As a stand up comic, people expect me to poke fun and poke holes at and in our way of life. I am supposed to draw your attention to the absurdities of everyday life and bitch about commercials, airlines, kids, my wife, your wife and the cost of gas.

And usually I do….

…but not today.

Today I am thankful for the mess I call my life and for those I share it with.

So Happy Thanksgiving one and all. I hope the day finds you well.

Men Suck!

2005-11-19T02:26:00.000-05:00

…but it’s not all of our faults. While it’s true today’s man is but a mere shadow of what were we designed to be - we’re not the only ones to blame for that.

Before you read this, understand this one fact: There is a %50 percent divorce rate in this country. In most cases, the whole man/woman thing is not working.

In the 70’s they told men we needed to be more sensitive, more communicative, more in touch with our feelings. So - we did. Now 35 years later the cry of every single woman across this country, “Where are all the good me?” You made them women!

Men and women were not meant to talk to one another! We tried and look where it got us. We found out we don’t like each other very much. In this country right now women are pissed off and men are confused. Women are angry at men because men have forgotten how to be real men and women have had to pick up the slack. Instead of waiting on a man to get with the program today’s woman simply says, “I’ll do it myself.” AND MEN LET THEM! And women hate us for it. They resent us and they have lost respect for us.

It’s a self fulfilling prophecy - as women become more masculine, men shrink away in fear and become more passive. “Yes dear.” “You’re right dear.” “Can I have the remote back now?”

Today’s man doesn’t want to grow up and be a man. Look at a typical 5 year old boy and then look at your man. They dress exactly the same! Sneakers, jeans, T-shirts, ball caps. Oh sure they may have a little facial hair - “Look at me, I’m a man.”, but one foot is still in the sand box. He doesn’t want to be responsible, he doesn’t want to step up to the plate, he doesn’t want assume the proper role of a man. Someone has to; and it’s typically his wife. Who hates him for it.

Women look at men like we’re children. I tell wives they should let their husbands lead the marriage and the family and they look at me like a dog looking at a fan. “You want me to follow him? I wash his laundry - he can’t even wipe his ass!”

What do we do? How do we turn this around? How do we get men to start acting like the men we were designed to be; less passive, more in charge, more assertive, more masculine? How do women return to their femininity; captivating, subtle, alluring, beautiful, vulnerable?

Stay tuned for my next post. I’ll straighten you out.

I Guess It's Up to The Commedians

2005-08-20T16:40:00.000-04:00

About 40 years ago this guy named Daniel Moynihan wrote about the relation between ghetto poverty and single parent families in a report titled "The Negro Family: The Case For National Action". He basically said they go hand in hand and encouraged civil rights leaders, academics, politicians and pundits to smarten up or there was going to be a big problem.

He was crucified by all sides and called a racist by both Washington and the civil rights movement. The black activist William Ryan accused Mr. Moynihan of "blaming the victim", a phrase that would be the title of his book, a book I had to read during my freshman year at SUNY Stonybrook. There were basically two sides to this: either you believed as black activists and white liberals did - that there was a defect in the system or you believed there was a defect in the individual. It was as if critiquing the family meant that you supported inferior schools, even that you were a racist.

Feminists were hell bent on overturning the "oppressive ideal of the nuclear family". So now, if you didn't think a single parent family was such a nifty thing, not only were you a racist, but also sexist because you were denying women their independence, their sexuality or both.

The Moynihan report was really the last time anybody spoke plainly and strongly about the ghetto's decay. Why would they? Nobody wanted to commit professional suicide by going on record warning anyone of anything - especially blacks or women. Who the hell wants that kind of heat? So for the past forty years the value of the nuclear family has been diminished, attacked or at best, dodged and stepped around because folks are afraid of backlash.

Until now.

There are voices out there, voices echoing a warning from years past. "The family is important folks! Children do better growing up with their own married parents. Mother-only-families don’t work. Stop having children out of wedlock and then expect someone else to take care of them for you. Change your behavior, don’t wait for Washington to end poverty and illiteracy.”

Oddly, these voices are originating from an unlikely group - our country’s stand up comics. Bill Cosby. Chris Rock. George Carlin. Lewis Black. And yes, they’ve taken some heat - especially Mr. Cosby because he poses the greatest threat and because he was so trusted by so many and now these people feel as though they have been betrayed by the man they made a billionaire and an American icon. Chris Rock is not taken as seriously because, quite frankly, he’s so dirty and perceived as a loud mouth punk, but how many of us still remember when he said, “I love black people - but I hate niggers!” Had anyone before made the distinction so succinctly?

I am aware there have always been “political comics”, but I am seeing an immergence of a “socially aware comic”. A brand of comedy pioneered in the sixties by the likes of Lenny Bruce and Godfrey Cambridge and then died off as people wanted to laugh at sillier things like a man wearing bunny ears and an arrow through his head.

So once again - its up to us - the nation’s jesters to tell folks how to live and to smarten up.

I know they’re laughing, but are they listening?

Hell Hath No Wrath

2005-06-10T10:45:00.000-04:00

As I mentioned in an earlier on this blog, new studies have shown women now are just as unfaithful as men. This I have always known.

What happens when someone gets caught? How does the person get caught? Which sex would you guess is more sneaky, crafty and vindictive?

Got a story for you that might shed some light.

Dateline: June 9, 2005. Funny Bone, South Bend Indiana. Bachelor party comes to the show in an effort to give this young hammer head a send off. So far, everything seems to be going as expected. The guys are drinking, acting stupid and behaving as you'd expect. Why people come to a comedy club to celebrate such events is beyond me.

After the show, outside in the lounge area, I am selling my "How to Satisfy a Woman Every time" shirts. I notice an extremely attractive woman is paying a whole lot of attention to one of the guys in the bachelor party. Not the bachelor, mind you, but one who I later learn is to be his best man at the wedding. The chick is a solid 8 -with beer goggles she'd tip the scales at 11. The guy is a 6 at best. I know women have an entirely different rating system, but trust me when I say he looked exactly like an older Ron Howard. About 20 minutes later, I can no longer see either of them, but I do notice the bachelor party's limo driver is standing patiently outside the car waiting (presumably) for the all clear sign. The rest of the boys are still at the bar giggling like school girls and staring outside through the window at the parked limo.

I've been doing this a long time folks. I've seen it all. I'd say I'm smarter than the average bear and I have learned if something appears to be too good to be true - it usually is. I smell a rat and she's wearing Channel #5.

I consider walking over to the bachelor and offer some Yoda-ly advice before he is tempted to join his best man in the limo. "Look here Speed Racer," I imagine myself saying, "Before you do something stupid let me just say no good can possibly come out of this. You think that girl out there is hot? Maybe...but she's no different, more special or better than any other woman you've been with. She doesn't have a cape with an "S" on it hanging out of her pussy. It's not lined with gold. So what's the point?"

Yeah, good speech I think, but before I can stub out my cigarette and walk over there - shit starts to get real interesting.

Another woman walks into the comedy club. This is a woman that everybody in the bachelor party seems to know, including the bachelor. I surmise this because the bachelor's face goes white and he swallows the swizzle stick from his drink. It doesn't take a nuclear botanist to realize this woman is the bachlorette come to check up on her betrothed in the middle of his party.

I light another cigarette and inch closer. Hell, I'd pay a cover to see this!

All seems casual at first; tight smiles, nervous hugs and kisses. But everybody has that "I just got caught with the dog licking peanut butter off the end of my dick" look on their faces. The bachelorette is scanning the bar as if looking for someone. She seems a little confused.

I'm not exactly sure who, but someone tells the bachlorette that Danny (the best man) is outside in the limo with some girl he picked up. The bachlorette is at first shocked. "He's fucking married!" she yells. Then she seems a bit worried and she too stares through the window out at the limo. Finally, I swear I see something that resembles a smile creep across her face, but not like a happy smile - more of a Grinch smile as she suddenly gets an idea. An awful idea. She pulls out her cell phone and starts dialing.

And that’s when the full depth and treachery of this trap hits me. I glance at the bachlorette one last time and say, "You are one sick puppy." I find the club's bouncers who are outside dumping the trash and tell them they need to break up a fight that’s about to happen in the limo. Meathead says, "They're not fightin' - they're fuckin'!" "Yeah well, right about now I'm thinking that’s a physical impossibility and once Dick For Brains in the car realizes that - someone is going to get their ass kicked." The two bouncers blink at me. I try a different tact. "Look at it this way...best case you break up a fight. Worst case you get to see some free tits and ass." That pierces the muscle surrounding their brains and soon they are banging on the limo window.

I open the door to see Danny boy locking lips with Lola - a digital camera lies on the seat next to them. Lola's shirt is up above her two poorly implanted plastic bags of salt water.

"What the fuck," mumbles Danny. "Time to go Milky Licker," I say. "Bachlorette is here and your wife is on her way. Party is over."

It wasn't enough for the bride to be to wonder about her man. It wasn't enough to orchestrate a sting operation to test his faithfulness. No - that just wouldn't do. She needed to plan the punishment even before the crime was committed.

I looked at the remaining person in the limo as she straightened her clothes and tucked her camera away. I hadn't noticed before how much make up she had on. Didn't see the kinky hair or the large hands. I mean - big hands. And I certainly didn't catch the Adam's apple in her throat.

"You should probably get to steppin' too Mister Sister"

Did this happen last night or was it two years ago? Was it South Bend or maybe San Diego? Maybe the names and dates have been changed to protect the innocent or maybe no one in this story is innocent at all. Maybe it's just that - a story.

Only Lola knows for sure.

Busted Flat in Baton Rouge

2005-06-02T16:09:00.000-04:00

I am here to report there are no flat busts in Baton Rouge Louisiana. I am confident in saying Baton Rouge has surpassed Mobile Alabama as Breast Implant Capitol of the nation. There was enough saline and silicone in The Funny Bone Comedy Club last weekend to caulk and fill Shamu’s underwater tank at Sea World. And I’m not talking just strippers and hookers here or any other profession that necessitates an ample bust (re: network anchorwomen), but mother’s of four, judges, kindergarten teachers, housewives and lawyers. It was Big Tity City last week, each boob sold by weight, each 4 cubic handfulls, enough in one show to feed a third world country with enough left over to dunk a cookie.

Everybody now knows and no one seems to care that fake tits are obviously that: fake. All but the most naïve fifth graders can spot man made from 30 paces. And if you’re not sure from a distance, the “Hug Test” always reveals the hard facts as two Tupperware containers are pressed up against your chest.

Like I said, no one seems to care that implants look, feel and taste fake. It’s almost like we don’t even consider tits to be part of the human body any more. They are now viewed more as accessories, like shoes, earrings or power windows. That the woman sporting them didn’t actually grow them is of little importance. She didn’t grow the earring either, she just stuck it on and my doesn’t it look pretty.

Breast implants are expensive (even the botched jobs) pose life threatening consequences, are temporary at best and the procedure hurts like holy hell. But none of this seems to have thwarted women of all ages, education, socio-economic or regional origins. In other words, while the stereotype of the white trash redneck-ette in the double wide is true, just as valid also is the middle aged female elected judge staring down at you from her bench on high.

So why do women do it? Let’s cut to the chase and dispense with the bullshit. Women make their tits bigger because they think that’s what men like. Period.

“No -no. I did it for my own sense of self esteem and self confidence…” Shut up. Stop lying to yourself. You did it because you thought men would like it and therefore your self esteem and confidence got it’s vicarious boost.

Why are so many women willing to undergo the pains described above to please men? That’s for somebody else with an axe to grind to figure out. I’m here to talk about what I think.

Fake tits are not sexy to me. They are sad. Desperate. Pathetic. Sexy equals confidence and there is nothing confident about a bag of salt water surgically stuffed into your boob.

At best - its kind of creepy.

People I Don't Trust:

2005-05-25T08:34:00.000-04:00

The following is a list of people I’ve decided I don’t trust (Once again, there is no discussion here. If you disagree with me you are, by definition, wrong.)

I don’t trust:

People who say they don’t get the whole Elvis thing. Its okay if you don’t listen to his music or make an annual pilgrimage to Graceland, but to say you don’t understand what the all the fuss is about is just down right Un-American. Elvis embodies the American dream of too much too soon and then you get fat and die. “Before anybody did anything, Elvis did everything.” The more you know about him the more you realize everybody since him is just copying him; Or copying someone who copied him.

People who say they don’t want kids. The need to reproduce is second to that of survival. Some may say they are one and the same. There are countless stories of those who have put their children’s lives before their own and this makes perfect sense to me. Some people are so disconnected from this basic and primal instinct and that worries me. On the other hand, if you don’t want children, PLEASE don’t have them. Go off to an island (Club Med?) with other likeminded and leave the safety and security of the world to those of us better equipped.

People who exclusively watch reality television. There is more to life than watching other people live it.

Women. ‘Nuff said.

People who say they don’t like music. What the hell is the matter with you?

People who say “African American” or “Latino” when they are thinking “black” and “Mexican”. I don’t trust people who don’t speak their minds.

People who are always happy. Read a newspaper, go outside and look around, watch CNN, stand in the line at the DMV and then tell me what you’re so damn happy about. If you can do the above and still maintain your sense of permanent glee, then you have my devoted respect…but I’m watching you…

People who sniff their food before they eat it. What are you a coyote?

People who feel the need to push elevator buttons that have already been pushed. Hey, Speed Racer - I got it covered. Relax.

People who are capable of forgiving all. I don’t mean, “Sorry - didn’t mean to step on your foot.” “No problem buddy. Have a nice day.” level of forgiveness. I’m talking about that “Jesus Christ forgive them for they know not what they do - can someone get me a ladder and a pair of pliers” type forgiveness. These people scare me because I suspect they are superior to me.

People who can fall asleep the second their head hits the pillow.

People who start off sentences with:
1. “Can I ask you a question?” You just did.
2. “Can I be honest with you?” No. Lie to me. Its makes my day more interesting.
3. “I don’t mean that in a bad way.” You just called me a puss infected sea cow. What other way could you have possibly meant it?
4. “Does that make me gay?” Not at all, but I think the other guy you oral sex with might be.

White people who act black. Get a race.

Black people who act really black. If you’re black and you're going to pretend that you don’t understand this, then you’re one of them.

Did I mention women?

The Trouble With Vaginas

2005-05-15T04:44:00.000-04:00

Let me begin by saying, as a general rule, I like vaginas. Its my favorite part of a woman's body. Some guys like breasts, butts, legs - whatever. Me? I'm a vagitarian. More on my love affair with vaginas another time. For now I'm pissed off....

After the show here in Ft. Worth, sitting in the back while the waitresses close out their checks. I love listening to the language of women, but only if they don't think a man can hear them. I have eves dropping down to an art. Some may call me a voyeur, but no one has ever been able to make that charge stick in court.

Women's conversations follow the same pattern. After they are done talking about themselves, they move onto other women and eventually end up talking about men. Rarely do they have anything nice to say about them and generally I believe their complaints are justified. I believe a man is the head of the household and should lead his family. If there is a problem, it falls on his shoulders. A man has ultimate responsibility for his wife's satisfaction in all areas. I'm there for women when they say the men in their life have disappointed them and left them feeling emotionally and spiritually short changed. I get it.

But I can't stand listening to women bitch about men being bad in bed. I wont have it anymore. It ends today. Read this and send it to every woman you know and tell them to do the same. In a matter of weeks, I will have nipped this in the bud. Theoretically.

Women hold men responsible for their orgasms and its not fair. Listen to the language: "He didn't MAKE me cum." "He can't GIVE me an orgasm." Look, I understand a woman's orgasm is more, shall I say, elusive, then a man's. It's like trying to squeeze and hold onto a bar of wet soap. BUT...it's not my fault!!!

Let's face it...as much as I am a fan...the vagina thing is a design flaw. It was a great idea, but it's like someone ran out of money or something and just left the thing unfinished.

First of all nobody can even agree on exactly what the vagina is. No one knows when it stops and starts and what parts to include. And that's another thing - too many parts!! Too much can go wrong down there, too much maintenance, too many little pieces to lose or break.

In terms of your sexual satisfaction, you have to blame the designer - not your man. I didn't invent the pussy! I'm not the one who put the clitoris a foot and a half away from the part you actually put the penis in. Who's idea was that? I'd of hung that puppy right smack in the middle of it...

...like a vaginal uvula. This way the penis would knock the shit out of it with each thrust. That's what I would have done. Or maybe, just like a uvula, I'd have put it in the back of your throat and solved two problems at once!

And why does the clitoris have to be so infuriatingly small? I'd of made that thing at least an inch long and painted it neon purple so you couldn't miss it in the dark. I'd have it emit a low sounding frequency so even blind men could locate it.

....bad in bed...You women have NO IDEA! Ask a lesbian! She'll tell ya'. They have the WORST sex lives of any couples on the planet (gay men of course having the best) It's called "Lesbian Dead Bed" because now you have BOTH partners lying in the dark going:

"Did you cum?"
"No - I don't know - maybe a little. How about you?"
"Same."
"Yeah...."
"...yeah..."
"Thank goodness we're lesbians and we don't really care."
"Yeah. Thank goodness. Let's go eat a pound of ice cream and I'll braid your arm pit hair."

Nobody understands vaginas. Not scientists, not poets or doctors. They have whole wings of hospitals devoted to the care and maintenance of vaginas and its got us no where. They give women antibiotics for their infections and what does that do? It gives them MORE INFECTIONS! The whole house smells like a litter box and I'm pouring cranberry juice down her throat with a funnel.

G-spot my ass! They put the thing two inches in, upper ridge, behind the pelvic bone, then hang a sharp right - flip a U-ie - in order to reach it you have to bend your dick like a coat hanger! I'm telling you the vagina was not thought out well.

Women don't even understand their own vaginas. You haven't ever even see it! Oh sure, you've all stood there with a mirror trying to get a better view and saying, "Damn - it does look like a taco", but that's not the same thing as being up close and personal.

Believe me, we'd want to make you cum faster and as much as you want to. Do you know what's it's like to lick ANYTHING for a half an hour???

So ladies, smarten up and stop blaming men for something we have no control over. I wasn't there when this shit was being mapped out. Nobody asked for my input. Take it up with the Big Guy upstairs. Maybe he has a reason for making your sex lives so complicated and frustrating. It might have something to do with Eve and the apple, but I'm not sure.

I'll be here all week. Don't forget to tip your waitress.

How To Satisfy A Woman Every Time

2005-05-09T00:57:00.000-04:00

Hats off to Se7en for giving my blog a new look. Hopefully by the time most of you read this, you'll be sitting in my virtual comedy club. Don't forget to tip your waitress...

Also Dawn the Webmiztriz has just about finished my web site (Tommyblazecomic.com) and put up my "How To Satisfy a Woman Every Time" T-shirt link. In a month or so I should have my first CD finished and I will put that up as well. Operators are standing by...

Would somebody please teach me how to make hyper links so you guys can click away to the above links?

I've decided I really like the phrase "Honkey Tonk". Its a verb, its a noun and an adjective.

I leave Friday for Hyenas Comedy club in downtown Ft. Worth. After a couple of days there, I'm off to The Comic Strip in El Paso. After two weeks off, its time for me to look around and figure out what's funny in the world.

I watched the Elvis thing in CBS tonight. The problem with these Elvis biographies is nobody comes close to looking like Elvis, so the whole time you're watching these things going, "I don't get it - what was the big deal?"

Is there a politically correct term for caucasians yet or am I still just a white guy?

Jesus Loves You. Everyone Else Thinks You're An Asshole.

2005-05-06T17:15:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure if I think that's funny or not. I saw it on a bumper sticker the other day. I wish I could call TNT and ask their comedy department if this is funny or not. What do you guys think?

It turns out I am a terrible blogger. I just can't find the time or inspiration to come up with something different and uniquely brilliant everyday. The original intention of this blog was to share the more bizarre and unbelievable things that happen to stand up comics while out on the road. And just like how your fever goes away the second you walk into the doctor's office, very little interesting has happened to me since I started this puppy. It's not like I'm going to go out and make stuff happen just so I can write about it here. "Hey - ya' wanna' burn down that convenience store? It'd make a great blog entry...."

I do want to go on record saying that it should be illegal to listen to country music during long car trips. By the time you get to where ever it is you're going - you're a wreck.

"How was the drive?"
"Both my parents died, my only kid grew up and moved away, the country has gone to hell and I miss the old days, I've been gone from home too long, teenage suicide, drugs or Jesus seem to be my only choices and I'm pretty sure my wife is leaving me. Other than that...I made pretty good time."

For that matter, you shouldn't be able to watch the country music network if you're at home alone either. Without intervention, it's possible you'll spend the whole day sitting on the edge of your couch muttering about how much you hate this sappy, shlocky stupid music. You'd really like to get on with your life, but you're riveted to the couch. And playing a Hallmark commercial during a series of country music videos should be a felony.

Anyway, as I said before, I'm a terrbile blogger. I'd like to finish this post and tell you about the one armed midget that came to last week's show, but the radio is talking about lovin' and livin' and good hearted women and I just gotta' go.

I Spent a Month There One Week.

2005-04-25T02:00:00.000-04:00

All done in Sarasota and just finished the long drive back home to Orlando.

What a week...a total of three standing O's. Very strange. I stared thinking that maybe the folks in Sarasota feel obliged to stand after the last guy on stage is done. My show is definitely going through a transition period. That means I’m still working it out and trying to find the funny. I have overhauled my act many times in the past, but this time its different and I don’t think I can explain it fully. I’d give anything to be in the back seat of the cars going home and listen to the conversation.

To the woman who caught her husband cheating on her: I applaud your courage for admitting that to me and a room full of strangers. I hope you don’t get in trouble for the phone call we made to the lying bastard who is now your ex. The bad news is - you’re going to have to one day forgive him for cheating on you. I know it sucks, but it’s in your best interest. Come back to my show the next time I’m in Sarasota because forgiveness will be then be the theme of my act. To the guy she was with: You CANNOT have sex with her for at least a year. I don’t care if she begs you for it - be a man. Be strong even if she can’t.

To the two lesbians on Friday night: Once again, my hat off to you for having the balls to (a) admit your lesbianism and (b) allow your physical appearance to be judged by us all. Admittedly, you two weren’t half bad. For lesbians. But I’m still not going to have sex with you so stop calling.

Thanks goes out to “Candy Mountains”: good luck in your new marriage. I hope I straightened you out. To the tall guy with his short “spinner” girlfriend: Get a real pair of shoes. You’re 28. Its time.

And for those of you who weren’t in Sarasota, Fl last week and are wondering what in the world goes on during my comedy shows - well - I guess ya’ had to be there.

And Then What Happened? Part II

2005-04-21T23:56:00.000-04:00

You'd think after 15 plus years in this business I would have learned not to allow myself to get too excited about stuff. Especially television. We all love to watch and talk about our favorite shows and stand ups like to tout the successes of Tim Allen, Roseanne Barr and Ray Ramano as proof we can do it too. But what gets little press is the all the road kill along the way. It is virtually impossible to get a show on the air, especially now during the “sit com is dead, reality TV rules” phase the networks are in.

Having said that - my meeting in LA with a big shot producer went about as well as a meeting can go. If my life were a movie, or God forbid a TV show, I would have been handed a $300,000 check as a down payment on a holding deal and the during the next scene, I’d be on the set of my new show arguing with the director about “my vision.”

But, alas, I was told to come back and speak with two other executives. Not bad really, because the journey could have very easily ended right there. So I got a “maybe” which in Hollywood is sometimes as good as a “yes”.

Also, this happened: I am performing in Sarasota, FL this week. I had a show tonight for about 80 people of varying ages. Actually, the whole spectrum was there; senior citizens up front and the Dawson Creek crowd in the back. I, personally, fall somewhere in the middle. I’ve left MTV for VH-1, but I still listen to it really loud.

This is a stand up’s nightmare. There are very few jokes (premises) that are multi generational. What makes a 22 year old laugh hysterically hits a brick wall with Great Uncle Lou. After a 55 minute set, I was given a standing ovation.

I don’t know why. I don’t know what I did. This is the second standing ovation I have received in as many weeks. For someone who is a non celebrity or for an act who doesn’t shoot Roman candles out of his ass, this is very rare.

And here’s the real kicker - I talked mostly about men and women’s roles as defined by the Bible. That’s not supposed to make people laugh - its not even supposed to be entertaining. I don’t understand it yet so I am not going to say much more other than if you get a chance to see me live, please stop by to say hi and tell me what I’m doing up there.

I Kid You Not...True Story....

2005-04-15T03:21:00.000-04:00

Still laid over in Cleveland. Technically, my gig is over as comedian Dom Irrera flew in and now he's the headliner. So with nothing to do, I walk over to the club and after the show Dom and I and some other comics are sitting around the empty showroom, talking comic stuff. "So what do you hear from Ray Ramano?" "Anybody talk to Tim Allen lately?" "If you shower with another man, but don't kiss - are you still gay?" You know, shop talk.

At this point all the servers had gone home and the last chair was placed on a table so the morning crew could clean up and I asked, "What's Drew Carey doing these days?" We get into this argument whether the show "Who's Line is it Anyway" has been canceled yet. I said, "Like two years ago." Nah. Can't be. "I'm telling ya', the show is history."

No sooner had the words been uttered, down the steps bounds Drew Carey. He just appeared out of nowhere at Hilarities Comedy Club in downtown Cleveland.

I kid you not...True story...I was kind of wishing we were talking about Pamela Anderson or even Angelina Jolie.

But the funny part is, Dom Irrera turns to Drew without missing a beat - as if he knew Drew was going to be there - and asks, "Hey Drew - that show of yours still on?"

Next thing you know we're across the street at the House of Blues. The weird thing about going out with a celebrity is you spend the night thinking this is not what you expected. For instance, the owners of the establishments trip over themselves to accommodate the star, but they do it in the most unaccommodating ways. For instance we are told to wait out on the street while a special room is prepared. 20 minutes later we're ushered to this alcove so far away from the band we can't hear or see anything. Later when we left, instead of getting a cab like normal folks, the owner insists HE drive us to our next destination. So we all cram into this little car. He says, "Forgive the cramped space." Drew says, "If I had a nickel for every time I've heard that."

As I am driving in the car it dawns on me that if we were to get into an accident, the morning headlines would read "Drew Carey and five others...." I tell him I'm not going out that way. If we're going to die I am going to assassinate him first so I will get some recognition. He turns and says, "The headlines will still read - Drew Carey and an unknown assailant..."

What Do You Get When You Cross A Man With a Woman?

2005-04-14T16:52:00.000-04:00

Guys...STOP SHAVING YOUR NUT SACKS!

Any stand up will tell you it is amazing what total strangers will admit to from the anonymity of a darkened, smoke filled comedy club. Last night, a woman in the front row freely told me (and the entire audience) that she is unhappily married because her husband works too much and because he is fat. Which is nothing compared to the younger guy who proudly informed us all he shaves his pubic area in order to solicit certain oral favors from women.

You know, there is only one of me and so very, very many of you. I go from town to town to help straighten out the desperate and misinformed, but they multiply faster than my frequent flyer miles. So I’ll say it again here in the hopes modern technology can spread the word more efficiently:

STOP SHAVING YOUR NUT SACKS!

First of all it’s gay, so you are more than likely sabotaging your main objective from the get go. Secondly, and much more importantly, it’s insanely stupid. Let’s review: You are going to go into the most unstable and treacherous part of your home, namely a wet and slippery shower stall, and hold a razor sharp - well - RAZOR - next to your penis! Good plan! Have you noticed that when you do this, your penis tends to shrink up and run away from you? That’s because penises come with a sharp-object-aversion mechanism. The minute it sees something potentially dangerous like a bucket of glass shards or a girl with braces, it has the better sense than you to try and disappear into your body and pretend like it’s a uterus. This is a well documented phenomenon. I saw it on The Discovery Channel.

But most importantly the whole nut shaving trend is a sign of how low and desperate men have become in their attempts to get sex from women. They bleach their hair, shave their bodies, go to tanning beds, wax their eyebrows, take Viagra and pierce their tongues. They have become as neurotically obsessed with their appearance as - well - WOMEN. How nice.

Couple of weeks ago this Dawson’s Creek little geek shows me he has his tongue pierced.
“Why did you that,” I asked.
“You know,” he says.
“I know you look retarded.”
He inhales deeply like I’m the idiot. “Muh gerfwend theth Ah gib huh bettuh oral thekth.”
“And now I know you sound retarded.”

That’s a load of crap you could only sell to a 21 year old. Because any real man knows EITHER YOU KNOW HOW TO GIVE ORAL SEX OR YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW TO GIVE ORAL SEX! Its not that hard. Up, down, left, right, little circles - whatever! If you have to put a cufflink in your tongue to get your woman off - BUY A BOOK!

Men have forgotten how to be men. The collective cry of single women heard round the world is “Where are all the good men?”

They are now women, is my answer. Which makes us all lesbians. Don’t get me started on that…

I’ll be here all week. Don’t forget to tip your waitress.

Knock Knock...

2005-04-13T23:20:00.000-04:00

Well, after all of these years I finally have a website. www.Tommyblazecomic.com is finally up and running. The site was designed and is being maintained by Dawn at For Your Information Technologies www.foryourinfotech.com which is a very fancy name for a young woman who can get a site up before you even know what it is you think you want.

I’m not really sure why I have a web site. I guess I just don’t believe anyone really cares. To me it’s kind of like having a vanity license plate on your car. Something you show to other people and they kind of smile saying, “Well how ‘bout that.”

For that matter I’m not sure why I keep writing in this blog. Is anyone out there? Hello?

I am performing at Hilarities Comedy Club in downtown Cleveland this week. The club is situated inside a very nice restaurant called Pickwick and Frolic. It turns out USA Today voted Hilarities as one of the top ten clubs in the country. I think it came in at number four. I would have ranked it number one myself.

I have this meeting next Monday in Hollywood with a big time television producer. I am going in to pitch a new series for myself. I have to say, I am a little nervous about it because its been a long time since I have been even considered for such a project. I met comedian Marsha Warfield from Night Court fame a few weeks back and she told me it only takes one gig to change your life. Just one gig and nothing is the same. You never know when opportunity will knock so you have to spend your life being ready to answer the door at a moment’s notice.

Well, I’m ready. Is there anyone out there? Hello?

Who's That Guy With The Pope?

2005-04-08T08:23:00.000-04:00

Whenever I see one of those WWJD (What Would Jesus Do) bracelets, I kind of get the creeps. I mean, look, I understand the basic premise behind them. When you find yourself at a decision making crossroad , the acronym asks us to consider the life and teachings of Jesus Christ and then act in a manner that reflects these principals. I get it.

What creeps me out are the people who wear these bracelets. I want to walk up to most of them and flick the bottom of their earlobes, which, admittedly, is not something Jesus would have probably done. I consider most of these proclamations of faith and ideology as a barrier between the proclaimed and the rest of the world. Sort of like a big fence that separates Them from Us. Every now and then you catch one of Them peeking out from behind the fence at Us, shaking Their heads in disapproval and then quickly locking the gate.

What Would Jesus Do?

There are those who believe the pope is the vicar of Christ on earth. An appointed representative while He’s away. “I can’t get to the phone right now, but if you need immediate guidance please dial the Vatican for my assistant.” I am not sure I believe all of that. The first pope, as the story goes, was the apostle Peter. Jesus put His hand on Peter’s head and said, “That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church…” Subsequent popes have been elected by a bunch of men…and…see…there’s my problem. I’m not saying it most assuredly isn’t true - I merely pointing out that mankind has the unique ability to screw up just about any good idea once they take it over. Consider labor unions, democracy and Classic Coke.

There is a big fence that surrounds the pope’s house in the Vatican. If he wanted to, the pope could live there behind locked gates and peek out every now and then to express his disgust with the way the world lives. He has the option to hang out and talk only to people who think what he thinks and believes his beliefs.

What Would Jesus Do?

Pope John Paul liked to get out and mix it up with us common folk. He was soft and sweet and liked to hug babies. He was a gentle man. That is of course when he was standing in front of tens of thousands communist Cubans telling them communism would not save the oppressed, only Christianity would. Castro stood right there, impassive and allowed him to do it. Castro won’t even sell me a cigar, but the pope marched in there and basically spit on everything Castro had worked so hard to build! Why did he let the pope get away with that? Maybe he had no choice.

John Paul took a spiritual sledge hammer and knocked the Berlin wall down. He invited break dancers to the Vatican and wore Bono’s sun glasses. The Catholic church at first thought they had a hip pope, one who might boost membership with more liberal and modern ideologies. But the pope said, “Sorry. The Bible doesn’t say I can’t hang out with rock stars but it’s pretty clear on abortion and premarital sex.” He stuck to his guns even though it wasn’t very popular or convenient to do so.

What Would Jesus Do?

Someone tried to kill John Paul once. He later visited the would be assassin in prison and hugged him, wept with him and forgave him. Forgive the guy who is trying to kill you? That’s NUTS! Why, you’d have to have the compassion of….

What Would Jesus Do?

John Paul prayed in synagogues and mosques (You wonder which God he was praying to). He fought relentlessly for human rights and tried to unite all Christian religions. He apologized for the sins of the Catholic church, both present and past. He stood against what he saw as the moral failure of Western capitalism. This pissed a lot of powerful and influential people off. Imagine that.

He worked until the day he died, leaving very little material possessions behind and is now being buried in a plain wooden box.

What Would Jesus Do?

Look people - I don’t know what Jesus would do, but after reviewing the life of Pope John Paul, I think I have a little bit better of an idea.

Women Need a Reason, Men Need a Place

2005-04-04T08:42:00.000-04:00

So researchers, scientists and therapists all agree, women cheat too. New studies show women now cheat as much as men and more recent ones suggest women actually cheat more than men. This is news? Reminds me of the government spending millions of dollars on studies to “prove” if you drink a lot of water you’ll have to pee more. I guess this comes as news because in earlier surveys women weren’t always honest about how they represent themselves to the public. Imagine that.

Anyone that works in bars and nightclubs or around women who are around liquor or anyone that works around women at all, has known for years, women cheat. I don’t think I have ever met a woman under 35 and over 12 who hasn’t and I’m still not sure about that fifth grader (the little minx).

Studies have shown for years that most married women are unhappily married. The reasons for this are varied and diverse, but it seems to boil down to women have high (unrealistic?) expectations of marriage. Most women agree relationships are a lot of work, but they also agree a lot of the work should be done by the man. The women’s sacrifice is she must tolerate the man until he straightens up.

Whatever the reason - married women seem to be unhappy.

The easiest woman to seduce is an unhappily married one. Ergo, Socrates is a man.

I have no idea how to get an attractive and single flight attendant to meet me in the restroom, but the formula for a 28 year old married woman with a kid and a lazy husband is simple: Two shots of Jager and a compliment and you’re out in the parking lot wishing you didn’t have bucket seats. No woman is more wild in bed than a cheating one. She’ll do stuff to you her own husband hasn’t seen since - well - ever. Downside of course is women prefer actual affairs over one night stands, so odds are you’re going to have to see this woman again. Life has a way of evening the score.

What I find most interesting about science’s new “finding” is women’s reaction to it. For years the cheating man is a dog, a pig, a liar and a scoundrel. Cheating women (and faithful women as well) don’t view themselves this way. When women talk about their affairs you hear words like “deserve”, “entitled”, “empowering” and “owed” come up a lot. Apparently, women feel empowered by giving a strange man a blow job in a parking lot. By the way, have I mentioned I am all for the empowerment of women?

New studies actually suggest - you’re gonna’ love this one - that a woman’s genes are the source of her infidelity. Its not their fault you see, its genetic. I swear to God I’m not making this up. This guy did a study with 5,000 English twins - phone numbers please….

I support women’s infidelity. I can be reached at http://www.screwhimbyscrewingme.com/.

So These Two Dykes Walk Into a Bar...

2005-03-17T16:06:00.000-05:00

I don't understand gay men. Typically these are good looking guys, well dressed, sensitive and they smell nice. In other words, they are the kind of men many women want to have sex with and yet they end up having sex with other men. Weird. Lesbianism, however, I do understand because someone has to fuck the ugly women. They shouldn't be excluded from the joys of sex just because they look like short guys with tits and bad haircuts. If not for lesbians these trolls of nature would be doomed to walk the planet hating men and good looking women. Lesbianism offers a last ditch opportunity to squeak in some companionship and the occasional orgasm while all the while hating men and good looking women. I am glad lesbians have each other - they need each other. Nature takes care of it's own.

The only thing that confuses me about lesbianism is men's current fascination with it. What the hell is this all about? Guys! Wake up! Stop telling women it's sexy to have sex with anybody (thing) other than us! It's counterproductive and it confuses women as well. Women will do ANYTHING we tell them is sexy. Just look at thong panties, high heels, breast implants and bikini waxes. For eons women have jumped through flaming hoops doing any and everything that will make them more appealing to us. Now we're telling them the sexiest thing they can do is to put down the tweezers and eye liner, stop having sex with men and fuck other women. Women are like, "Well, okay...I guess..are you sure...?" Men stand there with this Shrek-like drooling grin, never understanding the corner of self imposed celibacy we've just painted ourselves into.

"No, no, no," yells the collective cry of misguided American men. "The fantasy is they have sex with me too." You idiots! I don't know what lesbian sex means, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't mean DICK!

And why would you want to have sex with a lesbian anyway? There is no such thing as a hot lesbian. I'll say it again; the attractive lipstick lesbian is a myth perpetrated by the pornography industry; along the same lines as the nine inch penis or women who actually like the taste of sperm. Have you ever seen a chocolate bar filled with sperm? I rest my case.

A hot woman who has sex with another woman is simply crying out for help and guidance. She is terribly confused by society's mixed signals (see above) and/or she is angry with an exlover and/or a perverted uncle. What she really needs and so desperatly craves is a strong, masculine man to swat her on the butt and send her into the kitchen to make a sandwich. The very notion of which will make even your most ardent lesbian's knees quiver a bit. The hot chick who is bi or lesbian chooses to be so, as opposed to the true lesbian who was born that way, without any options or a chance in hell at being invited to prom.

So men, stop telling good looking women it's okay to have sex with other good looking women. You're just shooting yourself in the dick. Hot ladies who are sleeping with women - smarten up. Do you really want to be in a relationship where both partners are laying in bed saying, "Did you cum?" "No - how about you?" "No. Oh well, let's shave each others backs." Finally, real lesbians; I suport your efforts. You have every right to glean some happiness from your existence. You have every right to chop off your hair with a blender, grow out your pubes and gain weight. Just stop adopting children - that's plain silly.

And Then What Happened?

2005-03-11T07:45:00.000-05:00

Wouldn't you know it ever since I put this blog up absolutely nothing interesting has happened. In addition, I am reminded by the other two comics I am working with this week that if I mention real names in some of the exploits here - I will be killed. Good point. Hadn't thought about that.

I am in Atlantic City this week at The Comedy Stop. So far, other than a lot of drunks having to be carried out of the showroom, its been quiet.

A few weeks ago this hound dog of a comic I worked with told me about this web site called "Hotornot.com". He swore it was the best looking singles on the web. He told me has has hooked up with several while traveling. So I went to the site to see what all the fuss was about and sure enough, if these women are real - they're pretty hot. I am going to include the link so you can be your own judge.

I have made some progress on this children's book on CD I am working on. Its all about a man named Rainbow Jones and his life in the desert. More on that as it develops...

And Away We Go....

2005-03-10T04:20:00.000-05:00

Often times when we tell what we think is an absolutely hysterical joke or experience, our audience simply stares at us. We then find ourselves mumbling "I guess you had to be there..." While we attempt to remove an imaginary piece of lint off our egos. As a professional stand up comic, this has happened to me more times than I'd like to remember or admit.

But that's not what this blog is about....

For the past 15 years I have told the stories of what life has been like on the road for me. Stories of sex, lust, power, greed, betrayal, cruelty and biblical kindness. Most of my- non stand up friends (civilians) look at me with that Penthouse Forum look which says, "These letters aren't true." After my years on the road I am here to tell you I now believe in those letters. Every one of them.

I guess to believe these stories...you had to be there.