Friday, October 29, 2004


Well ladies and gentlemen, in another example of American capitalism attempting to destroy Halloween…and corrupt innocence …here is a very popular costume that was being sold on Yahoo’s online store before many angry people forced the company to remove it:

He's a pimp, and he's ready to oppress some "bitches!" Posted by Hello

And after some more extensive googling…

Yep, that’s right, SHE’S A "HO."

Seriously now, what mother thinks to themselves:

"This is a perfect costume for my 7-year old's beauty pageant. For the talent portion, she can turn tricks."

According to the last time I checked the Yahoo website in August, before the costumes were removed, both had “sold out.” Apparently, a plague of bad parenting decisions allowed these products to sell out two months before Halloween. I guess you better get these costumes before everyone else because God forbid the little girl down the block is dressed like a prostitute too! How embarrassing would that be??? You might be forced to make your daughter wear last year’s “junkie” outfit again.

What kinds of parents buy this crap for their children? Well, I suppose it’s always a good thing to socialize kids into oppressive social roles early on in the process. Less likely they’ll question things later.


My best friends and I continued to go “Trick or Treating” door to door until we were 18 years old. Some people were cool about it, but the Halloween purists were not big fans of our presence at their doorstep. We did not wear costumes, had awkward facial hair, and were, at times, several feet taller than the children in front of us in line. When asked what we were supposed to be, we’d answer:

“We’re dressed as losers, now give us candy.

”What we were doing felt wrong, inappropriate, and forbidden…making the candy taste that much sweeter. To this day, we are convinced that this is what sex feels like.

(Oh shit, I said too much.)

After reading my journal on Tuesday, my brother’s friend Mike had this little anecdote to share about John Kerry:

“I saw him doing stretches before Denis Leary’s Celebrity Hockey thing, and I almost committed suicide watching him. He made hockey boring! The stretches he was doing…ridiculous! Definitely the “best” worst footage I’ve seen proving a point about someone ever. EVER. My God, he was doing stretches with the solemnity of a FUCKING SAMURAI. It was ridiculous. And I still cannot get that shit out of my head. He looked like a fucking character from The Sims. So damn stiff. He is an automation.”

All of what you have said Michael seems about right. But hey man, the way I see it, even if he is a bit stiff below the neck, unlike the other guy, he at least has blood going to his brain. And that’s all that really matters in this election.

Osama Bin Laden released a new video today stating:

"If Bush says we hate freedom, let him tell us why we didn't attack Sweden, for example.”Duh, it’s because Sweden is “the neutral one.”

(For joke reference, read Ron Suskind’s article about George W. Bush, “Without A Doubt” that was published in October 17th’s New York Times Magazine and is conveniently reprinted on this website: )

I’m not sure if Bin Laden and Al Qaeda really hate the notion of “freedom.” I mean, how can you hate such a complex concept that is different in so many social, and historical contexts? It’s like our imaginary war on “terrorism.”

Furthermore, how is blowing things up and killing innocent people going to eliminate either IDEA from existence? Terrorism is just a tool to manipulate people’s emotions to get them to do what you want, which unfortunately sounds a lot like how democracy currently works in this country.

And hell, if Bin Laden really wanted to destroy American democracy and freedom, all I really think he would need to do is wear one of those “VOTE OR DIE” t-shirts in his next video. Honestly, what does an American do in that situation? You don’t want to agree with Bin Laden…but, at the same time, he wants you to vote! It’s a fundamental democratic principle. On a positive note, by doing this, Bin Laden may be able ruin P. Diddy’s career. Uh huh, yeah!

Now, onto something less thoughtful, and that lacks political and social commentary on the issues of the day, here’s a snippet of Tony Danza’s new day-time talk show that I caught while flipping around:

Tony Danza (to unknown B- Celebrity): And Elmo. Elmo was on my show from Sesame Street…you know…the puppet.”


I wonder if he ever asks himself how he got to this point in his career. Is he thanking God or Satan?

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Thursday, October 28, 2004

Congratulations from a Yankee Fan

The Red Sox Won. I can't fucking believe it. They actually won.

I just assumed when Renteria hit that ball back to Foulke that the lunar eclipse would occur at that very instant, temporarily blinding the first baseman Doug Mientkiewicz, and preventing the final out. This would lead to back-to-back-to-back homeruns, giving the Cardinals the game, and beginning a domino effect that would once again end with another hole being burnt into the collective soul of New England.

But instead...they won.

From a life-long Yankee fan, but always a baseball fan first...congratulations, you bastards.

Now, burn New England to the ground, so I can still enjoy some irony.

For a real Red Sox fan's take on this madness, go to my friend Matt's entry at

Damn good writing, Matt.

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

Some thoughts on the state of American politics and media, written by someone with a 5th grader's vocabulary...and a college degree

For those of you who missed it, here is a link to the Jon Stewart “Crossfire” Video:

He absolutely tore those guys a new asshole/ mouth. (Because they all talk shit, get it?? Brilliant.)

These “partisan hacks” (as Mr. Stewart referred to them) claim they are providing a service to America, but how often do you actually learn something from watching two people fight with each other? I don’t watch boxing to learn how to kick ass, I watch it to enjoy OTHER PEOPLE kicking ass.

(More specifically, to enjoy two, previously poor, minorities beat the brain cells out of each other, in front of 3 white judges, a white referee, a mostly white audience, Don King and a plethora of low-A/ high B-List celebrities. “Only in America!”)

Crossfire is not very informative, but it is entertaining. I feel there is a clear freak show element to the program, as one of the commentators looks like Jim Carrey’s Fire Marshall Bill character on “In Living Colour” (read: James Carville), and another looks like a little White boy dressed up as Louis Farrakhan for Halloween (read Tucker Carlson). All this program teaches me is that if you're white, you can still be ugly and be on television.

What I find extremely unfortunate is that broadcast news is also getting caught up in this “infotainment” bullshit.

After watching the Vice-Presidential debates, I turned on NBC to see Ana Marie Cox, the creator of the very popular, give her commentary to Tom Brokaw, a highly respected member of the American media. Here is what she said:

“Fighting with Dick Cheney is sort of like fighting with the Stay-Puff Marshmallow man: You can stick your hand in there but you’re not going to get much substance when it comes out.”

Then she actually started laughing at her own joke on national television! Tom Brokaw just sat there, straight-faced, probably wishing at that moment that he was Edward R. Murrow. Not necessarily because Murrow was a broadcast legend that was able to maintain his dignity throughout his illustrious career, but more likely because he was dead and therefore, lucky enough not to be tortured in this fashion.

Hey Wonkette, I know you must have gotten a bunch of positive comments on your BLOG from that dated Ghostbusters joke, but this kind of stuff doesn’t fly on NBC, ok?? (Yes, yes, I see the irony here of ME criticizing her in this fashion. Please continue to leave comments at the bottom of this entry.)

Hey News People, let the comedians do their jobs and you do yours! You’re not going to draw more people to your network with bad joke-writing.

And seriously now, do you really need to force comedy when you have stories like this one: “BILL O’REILLY LOVES THE FAKE, VIBRATING COCK!”

As expected, not everyone has chosen to cash in on this journalistic gold rush, as The Fox News Network has avoided this story like it was the truth. They have, however, continued to bring up how Kerry mentioned Dick Cheney’s lesbian daughter during the last Presidential debate. I mean, let’s be honest here. Kerry should not have brought up Mary Cheney's sexuality. When John Edwards did it, he could address his comments directly to Dick Cheney, and could pretend he was genuinely praising him as an understanding and loving father. (In reality, I believe he was, in fact, sending a coded message to the Conservative Right: “The Vice President’s daughter is a homosexual, making him a hypocrite. Vote for us, OUR daughters are straight.)

But this time, when Kerry mentioned Mary Cheney, her father was not in the room. I would hate for someone to talk about my kid’s life behind my back! It’s none of your fucking business what my daughter is! There are many lesbians and many parents of lesbians in this country, so why mention the sexual identities of the family members of people you are running against?

Still though, what’s up with Mary Cheney? A Gay Republican? That must be tough when you have right wingers in your party that hate your guts. Plus, what a bind to be in:

“Hmm...I really enjoy having all this money...but damn, I really do like this gay sex a lot too! What to do, what to do?"

I wish Kerry was a stronger candidate. Even though he's clearly qualified to BE the President, he is, unfortunately, just not qualified to PLAY the part of the President on television. And that’s what America really wants: A good actor. Someone who looks good, and speaks well. (Bush clearly cannot speak well, but he speaks simply and clearly. Plus, HE REALLY LOVES JESUS, so that generally makes up for his incompetence.)

Kerry just doesn’t exude excitement. I once saw a picture of John Kerry on a motorcycle, and came to the conclusion that he is the only person in the world that could make motorcycles seem boring.

However, it was nice to see John Kerry loosen up and make a joke about his wife Zsa Zsa…I mean Teresa… and her money at the end of the 3rd Debate. They clearly have a marriage of convenience. Seriously now, he must’ve known about the money from the beginning.

“Hey Teresa, why do you have that “57” tattooed on your ass? Heinz Ketchup, huh? Never heard of it.”

Don’t get me wrong. I want to send Bush back to Crawford, Texas, so he can pretend to be a cowboy roaming "the Wild West" (aka his multimillion dollar ranch) as bad as the next person with a working brain. (Even though, if he does win, I could probably keep some of my old jokes. That’s 15 minutes less work for me!)

He’s had more than 3 years to track down Osama Bin Laden, and he’s failed miserably. The man is 6 feet, 5 inches! Just look for the only cave in Afghanistan with a basketball hoop in the driveway!

I wonder if “Dubbya” ever thought this to himself:

“Where is he? Where could this enemy be hiding? Well, where was I hiding during a time of war? Under daddy’s bed in Kennebunkport…no, not there… the pool house in Martha’s Vineyard…no… definitely not Vietnam… the Texas Air National Guard (chuckles to himself) … Bermuda… whorehouse (not in Vietnam). Dang, come to think of it, I don’t even remember where I was hiding! The time just flies when you snort that much cocaine, I guess.”

It still amazes me that Bush and his henchmen would go after Kerry’s service in Vietnam, considering his own war record is still very suspect. Furthermore, even if he had actually completed his service in the Guard, it’s not like he was really ever in harm's way. On the long shot that the Texas Air National Guard was actually called to service, I’m sure he would’ve found a way out of it. He would’ve been the only one who stayed back. “I’m just waiting for the Cong to get to Arlington! The Cong won’t mess with Texas!”

Man, I do not trust this administration, and would not be all that shocked if they find Osama right before the election! Like the day before Election Day, Osama will just magically show up.

“We found him, we found Osama! He was in the White House basement the whole time! It’s always the last place you look, I guess. It was actually a pretty crazy scene. He was wearing a Kerry ‘04 t-shirt at the time, and listening to a Dixie Chicks CD.”

Friday, October 22, 2004

Laugh Out Loud, Smiley Face, Smiley Face???

Here is how New York’s Fox Five News at Ten covered the tragic story of a young Boston Red Sox fan that was accidentally killed by police during a post-game celebration.

“A surprising Red Sox victory leads to a rowdy celebration, and now an innocent college co-ed is dead!”

Did they just say “innocent college co-ed?” Ah yes, leave it to a Fox News affiliate to get their cues on TV news story writing from the Girls Gone Wild commercials.

Do they at least have footage of her flashing before she died?

“Raw, real, uncut…and now dead. Let’s go to the videotape.”

Shortly after I wrote this joke, I showed it to my friend Adam, and my brother Ashok. This is, more or less, the conversation that followed:

Hari: So, what do you think?

Adam: I think “co-ed” is actually a real term that is used outside the Girls Gone Wild commercials.

Hari: Dammit, I’ve never heard it used that way before. Well, how’s the writing overall?

Adam: It’s ok.

Hari: Just ok?

Adam: I mean, it’s not great.

Ashok: Yeah, I didn’t think it was that great either, but I didn’t want to say anything.

Hari: What the hell? Oh my God, you’re probably right. This is crap. I’m never going to be a funny writer.

Ashok: Yeah, this is why I didn’t say anything. He’s a maniac.

Adam: Calm down, it is just a dumb entry in an online journal.

Hari: Fuck this thing. This is bullshit. Fuck it! Where’s my Gameboy? I’ll show the world that I’m still good at Tetris.

Adam: Tetris??? Holy shit man, you need to get a job.

I know it’s a sad day when I am able to get down on myself about one stupid joke in this journal, but I can’t help it. No matter how bad things get, it’s nice to know that I will, at least, have this lovely online humour journal…to the delight of tens of people. And let me once again repeat that this is an ONLINE HUMOUR JOURNAL, NOT A BLOG. I repeat this for my own benefit, as well, because sometimes I slip up. Here’s a quick story:

I was at a dinner party the other night (read: Four months ago) and was talking to a cute girl (read: Better looking than me) when I started to furiously write down a thought I had in the small notepad I keep in my breast pocket. The girl asked me why I carried a notepad with me and I panicked. I realize that I could have easily told her I was writing down some material for my act, giving me an opening to tell her I was a standup comedian. This usually impresses people enough to keep their attention and gives me a further excuse to slip in some anecdotes about my experiences performing.

(Note: My favorite anecdote is about the time I foolishly chose to perform at an event organized by a Christian group several years back. I decided to open with a joke comparing Jesus to Waldo because "just like Jesus, everyone's trying to find him." No one laughed and the set went down hill from there.)

However, I chose instead not to tell her I did standup because I honestly was not writing down joke ideas down for my act. I was writing down ideas for this stupid online journal. Now, I realize she wouldn’t have given a shit if I lied to her, but for some reason I actually cared.

Maybe it’s the instincts of an “online journalist” concerned with the accuracy of my statements…or perhaps its some innate urge for me to ensure I will die alone…or perhaps I’m simply a big fucking moron.

So, I planned to tell her it was for my “online humour journal,” but that sounded like an odd thing to say outloud in the real world, where people have real lives and are not just “harithecomic” or some odd reference to a song lyric with the number “82” next to it (Because some other Modest Mouse fan had to take the name "karmapayment" before I got a chance to!) A smiley face can’t fix everything in this strange new world I had re-entered.

So there was a pause…and the next thing I knew, I said the word “blog.”


There was silence, then a confused (almost) pained look of shock, disapproval, and ultimately, disappointment on her face. Then, perhaps, even anger. She had wasted her time talking to a loser, and she hated me for it.

The shit hit the fans pretty quickly at this point, and death hopefully seemed imminent…but it did not come.

So, fellow and future online journalists/ nerds, follow my advice: STAY ANONYMOUS. Do not tell people you write things online because if it is not a respected newsmagazine…a well known site like that “Wonkette” bitch has…or even a porn site for that matter…you will lose any and all respect from other human beings.

Tuesday, October 19, 2004

Some More Random Buffoonery

All these thoughts are loosely connected for the sake of coherence.

- Here’s a joke I opened a set with in Maine a few months after September 11th. No one laughed at it, but I still think it is very funny.

“Before I start my set, let me first answer a question some of you white people might have. ‘No, I don’t know Osama. I can’t get you an autograph, or get anything signed, so put your copy of Terrorism for Dummies down.”

- Condoleeza Rice probably hated her parents for naming her Condoleeza.

“Dammit Mom and Dad, why couldn’t you have named me Cynthia or Tiffany or something else that wasn't so ethnic! Condoleeza? Are you shitting me? That's not even close to a real name! Did you just draw a bunch of letters from a hat? And now I got to deal with all these kids at school calling me “Condom Lisa” or "Condo-lingus." It's terrible! And furthermore, did you both have to be Black?"

- If animals were capable of having “self-esteems,” I’m sure there would be lots of depressed race horses.

“My father was a former race horse, he retired to stud, fucked a bunch of mares, and I was the result of it. He was a drunk, and I don’t think he even knew my mother. Hell, I only knew her for a few years before they took me away. Now I run around a track with a midget on my back…and for what? What’s the point anymore? So I can eventually have some bastard children of my own? For the love of God, they can't do this to me. I’M GAY!”

- When is Bob Ross going to get his own collection in the Met? In addition, when is a movie going to be made about his life? I mean, they could at least make a PORN movie about him…seriously, with that hair it couldn’t be that hard. It could be called “Happy Little Cloud, Happy Little Cum Shot.”

- I don’t hate all modern art, but I do dislike the work of guys like Jackson Pollack. I’ve seen tons of this crap in museums and galleries in New York City, and I just don’t get it. A lot of the paintings look like they were created by children, but they were apparently drawn by adults.

My friends say things like “he’s clearly making a statement about the complexity of human emotion here.” What?? Where did you get that? To me it looks like he’s talking about squiggly lines and random blotches of paint because that is what I see.

“No, Hari, you REALLY need to look at it.”

What? Why? Is this like one of those magic eye pictures? If I look at it long enough will I see a picture of a giraffe and the complexity of human emotion?

They continue to insist these paintings were made by adults, but I’m starting to think they’re lying. I think children made these paintings in modern art sweatshops in the basements of art galleries around the country.

Little Kid: Mr. Jean Claude, I’m done!

Gallery Owner: Ok, Brian, let me see it! What the hell is this?

Little Kid: It’s a forest.Gallery Owner: What are those lines supposed to be?

Little Kid: It’s raining.

Gallery Owner: Oh Brian, this painting looks like shit! I LOVE IT! Now, go back to the basement.”

- I saw another one of those “50 Most…” list shows on VH1 the other day, and Kurt Cobain was on it. The segment began with the usual “voice of a generation,” “brought Grunge to the forefront of popular culture” stuff and, of course, the requisite “Smells Like Teen Spirit” video clip.

Then, for some strange reason, they got a member of RUN DMC to talk about Kurt’s impact on music. No, not the one who wears the hat. No, not the dead one. Yeah…that guy. It was very odd they chose this fellow to discuss Kurt Cobain. Why not get someone more closely related to Kurt, like someone who knew him personally, or at least a rock musician who was influenced by him.

Then things got really absurd.

They asked Kelly Osbourne for her opinion! Kelly Osbourne is famous because her dad is so famous that he made his whole family famous. He even got his untalented, unattractive daughter a record contract, proving again why they call him the “Crown Prince of Darkness.”

She was about 10 when Kurt died, yet she had this to say about his loss:

“There will never be another one, SO GET OVER IT!”

Wow, another meaningless, often repeated statement about dead, and very replaceable, celebrities, said with attitude, for no clear reason.

Did someone claim they were replacing Kurt Cobain? Seriously, no one is arguing with you Kelly.

“I want a ham sandwich, FUCK YOU!”

Here were the connections in this stream of consciousness entry:

Osama- Terrorism- Condoleeza Rice’s name-self conscious- self esteem- Bastard Race Horses- Sex- Bob Ross’ porn biography- Art- Modern Art is Bullshit and easily produced and replaceable- Celebrities are also easily produced and replaceable- Kelly Osbourne

Friday, October 15, 2004

This is a comeback reminiscent of an overweight Axl Rose in dreadlocks.

I went to some New York City, Young Bowdoin Alumni event a few weeks back, and shortly after it ended, I decided that never again would I let boredom drive me to do something that stupid.

For the most part, I spent the evening talking to a bunch of people I did not really enjoy talking to. I was never much of a bullshit “socializer” in college, and I did not intend on being one now. I mean, it's not that I disliked these people per se, I was just not “creaming my pants” over them.

NOTE: This is an expression my friend Will got me to start using, and should not imply that the people I was talking to were not incredibly good looking or, more importantly, that I have a problem with unsolicited, premature ejaculation.

Anyway, I guess I was also a bit frustrated by the situation, as well. People kept talking about what they were doing with their lives, and kept asking me annoying questions like “So what are you up to now?” or “Did you get a job yet?” or “Do you know what you want to do with your life?”

Dammit, give me something I don’t need to tactfully evade. How about:

“So what happened on the Maury Povich Show this morning?” or “Are you considering getting a new screen name on Instant Messenger in the near future?” or how about, “Isn’t searching for old elementary school friends on Friendster lots of fun?”

These are questions I can answer, but are apparently, not of consequence to anyone else.

NOTE TO SELF: On second thought, tactfully evade the Friendster question. Girls don’t like guys who are able to find them by any means necessary on the internet.

The only thing I dislike more than having to talk about my current lack of success is talking about the success of others. It is particularly annoying when you are talking to someone who has no fucking idea how fortunate they are.

For example, I was having a conversation with someone who had the gall to complain that her parents were charging her $400 a month in rent! Keep in mind that I had just told her that I was unemployed and frustrated, and she then replied by telling me that she had a job that paid her 70 Grand annually, and came with an additional 10 Thousand dollar signing bonus (even though she can't throw a curveball…and was an art history major).

It’s almost like going up to a homeless person and complaining about indigestion. Yes, you probably ate something that didn’t agree with your stomach, but at the same time…YOU GOT TO EAT SOMETHING. (And got 10 thousand dollars for eating it.)

Another point: A decent apartment in New York City costs between $900 and $1000 a month, so her fascist parents are actually doing her a huge goddamn favor! The whole affair left me wishing I was back home in Queens checking my e-mail for the 10th time in 30 minutes.

I have been unemployed for 4 and a half months now. I’ve gotten close to getting a job a few times, but have just missed out. Apparently, a fresh graduate who has very little practical, real world experience is not as desirable as I would have hoped.

ME: No, I haven't actually done any of those things you listed, but I have read extensively about a lot of people who have...and I want to be one of those people!

THE MAN: I’m sorry, Hari.

ME: But I can write a better than average analytical essay!

THE MAN: Please, you’re making this harder.

ME: C’mon, all my friends say I’m really awesome. Can you just call them and ask! Please?

Seriously, how else am I going to get experience, if no one gives me a chance? This is some kind of fucked up discrimination where people with “experience” only hire other people with “experience.” Well, who is defining what “experience” is anyway? I’ve had lots of “experiences!” Have any of those motherfuckers ever told jokes in front of hundreds of people? Or danced Bhangra in the finest clubs in New Delhi? How about that, you bastards??


Graduating college has somehow become my middle class equivalent to “Black Tuesday.” One second, I am somebody with things to do. With a large community of friends around me. With unlimited refills on soft drinks. And with health insurance. Oh glorious health coverage, how I miss thee! But now, I am nothing… just a “dependent” on my parent’s tax forms.

I spend a lot of my days now downloading Cat Stevens records. I analyze them. I try to figure out what lyrics like “I listen to the wind of my soul” mean, and how they might possibly have a link to terrorism. I’m just trying to do my part to fight this imaginary war.

When I am not awake doing nothing, I am asleep having delusions of grandeur. The other night, for example, I dreamt that I was the first person to design state-of-the-art BLUE HOTELS in Monopoly land. I made a fortune off it, and hid the money in an offshore account, so I could evade that goddamn $75 Luxury Tax!

My God(s), it absolutely amazes me that someone recently attempted to steal my identity and open bank accounts with it. I mean, seriously… why would anyone want to be me right now???

Ok, so I’m being melodramatic…as middle class kids are prone to be. Everything is fine and will continue to be fine. I’m not starving to death or anything like that. In fact, I am gaining weight. Lots of it. I look like I’m taking the year off to have a baby. Except the baby will never get born, and there’s no way of getting rid of it.

“Exercise, you say??? What kind of medieval sorcery are you proposing?”

Actually, for the first time ever, getting fat doesn’t sound like such a bad idea. I’ve been reading a lot about the possible reinstatement of the draft if Bush wins, and it makes me very thankful that I’m not in shape. By the end of the year, the South Beach Diet could possibly be referred to as the Persian Gulf Diet because the army has first dibs on the “physically fit” people. Good luck on the front lines, suckers! I’ll be almost guaranteed for kitchen duty! So, in retrospect, I was not being a glutton all these years… I was simply looking out for my health.

And if they do force me to fight, being chubby might still not be a bad thing. You can keep your 6-pack of abs and your toned biceps! The way I see it, the best way to guarantee having only flesh wounds is actually having more flesh. (Oh, what I’ll believe to justify pizza for breakfast and ice cream for lunch.)

Bottom Line: I’m still looking for work, continuing to overeat, and misusing Friendster. Once I develop some marketable skills…I’m set.