Extra Evil - Delirium Edition
Today’s Fortune: Why leave for tomorrow what you can obsess over today?
Antarctica became the surfing destination of the year.
Ukraine talks were hard to hear over the mortars.
The Oscars became a barometer for friend sanity.
Jackson was asked “What is a Supreme Court justice?”
The words “play to earn” were quietly buried.
Chris Rock totally dodged that attack, this game is bullshit.
Due to an amazing run of teaching, acceptances, pranks, and productivity…I haven’t slept in over 24 hours. This newsletter is going to be an experience. I look forward to accidentally destroying my career, family, and love life in a fugue state missive.
Did you know that two Ivy League degrees don’t qualify you to laminate paper? I screwed up at least ten dollars worth of material before applying my desperation technique: rereading the instructions. Lowering myself to it hurt, but we do what we must in the name of kicking Mayor Tweed in the left gonad.
Every writer should try parodies. Not because the result will be good, but because jumping into someone else’s mouth lends your voice more flexibility later on. Which is quite useful for…more parodies. Or ripping off the George RR Martin multiple POV structure. You’ve got options.
The line “It was GI Jane joke” makes me want to get back into standup (I lapsed during the plague). I’m at a critical point with a few other things, but the notebook’s started to fill up again. In the dumbest way possible, this may be my Gold Roger execution.
In fact, I’m going to go full Shonen Jump with it. One day, on a page or stage or fake street sign, I’m going to write a joke better than bullet control. Chris Rock’s that dude. And as a guy that intentionally provokes people, I’m annoyed that he’s beating me at that too.
New prank. Proper live gallery up soon.
New mock text adventure. Get hype.
On Weeaboo Hell, the Uzumakiad has to leap over an IRL hurdle but sooooon.
Fun fact: I hate Op-Ed pages. A relationship that inspired this piece in Slackjaw.
I talked about modern love in The New Yorker. Not to be confused with Modern Love in The New York Times. I’ve submitted, but radio silence.
Since my brain is dying, I’ll just repeat The New York Post trying to understand what I do and why.
I’m going to be on a comedy site that I love on every level. Looking forward to it. Counting the attoseconds, really.
I’m sitting on a dragon’s hoard of unused comic scripts. Blood oath: I will turn one of these into tangible work before I turn 31, or slip into the depths of madness. Not the fun Futurama madness either. Macbeth madness.
Recorded some extra bits for the documentary yesterday. Here’s hoping.
One Sentence Reviews
Doug Stanhope – Before Turning the Gun On Himself: The man’s an alcoholic unicorn. (4.5/5)
Doug Stanhope – Die Laughing: It’s insane to think we’re getting the mellower version of him today. (5/5)
Oscars (2022): Jokes aside, put editing in the broadcast. (1/5)
Paper Girls (Vol. 3): Vaughn’s consistent. (4/5)
Paper Girls (Vol. 4): Vaughn’s consistent. (4/5)
Paper Girls (Vol. 5): Vaughn’s consistent. (4/5)
Thanks for reading Extra Evil, the newsletter that fell asleep halfway through writing this update.