My friend Kyle Weber made this. It’s retarded.

Wow. Ok. So, last night’s show was insane. Thanks so much to everyone who came out. “Magical” is the only word to describe what happened. Lives were changed.

If you missed the show, please let me first tell you how sorry I am that your parents died (for that’s the only reason I can think of for not coming). Here’s a short re-cap: Noah and I showed our audition tape for the upcoming Notorious B.I.G. movie, Gabe and Jenny told a hilarious haunted Hollywood Halloween tale, Max Silvestri wined n’ dined the crowd with his patented jokes n’ quips^tm, and, as always, Greg Johnson crushed. Oh, also, Brett Gelman put on the single most amazing performance done by any human being on any stage anywhere. (No hyperbole.) The man got a standing ovation. At Rififi.

I recorded Brett’s performance with my iPod. You know, just for myself to have and hold and cherish. I listened to the mp3 on the train this morning, and, despite the fact that the sound quality is quite terrible, it still made me snarf coffee all over myself twice. Because of this, I have decided to share the 1000 Cats mp3 with the rest of the world. No matter how shitty it sounds.

Obviously, the grainy, cavernous audio doesn’t do 1000 Cats justice at all. Not even 1/1000^th of 1% of its justice. But, it’s the best I can do…and apparently the best that you could do too.

So, here. Enjoy.

You’re welcome.

I saw the most amazing person in New York City on the subway today. I stared at him for a good half hour, absorbing every detail. I can’t even describe it, other than it was like seeing a unicorn. Only way gayer and more magical.

Has anyone else seen this man? I need to know what his deal is. Please?

(Note: I seriously need a camera phone.)

1: Severely crossed eyes.
2: Real mustache.
3: Fake, painted-on handlebar mustache.
4: Silly glasses.
5: Sam Cassell head.
6: Eyeliner.
7: Black spandex top (possibly a unitard).
8: Pleated women’s fat pants.
9: Miniature briefcase.
10: Homemade belt made of purple streamers.
11: Military boots.
12: Clipped-on cell phone (attached to purple streamer belt).
13: Four extra-fine Sharpie markers (blue).
14: Giant red leather wristwatch.

Every once in a while when you take the subway in New York City, the train stops without warning and remains idle for a very long time. Eventually, a fuzzy voice comes on the intercom and informs the passengers that the delay is from someone on the train having a medical emergency. The fuzzy voice then thanks you for your patience and promises things will be moving shortly. Obviously, it’s annoying to be late for work, but it’s important to put yourself in the position of the sick person; at the very least, you’d expect people to be understanding and accommodating while you were trying to get off a train and into a hospital.

Anyway, a delay of this sort occurred on my ride to work this morning. I was aboard a packed N train, listening to my iPod and reading Newsweek, when the conductor suddenly hit the brakes and everything came to a screeching stop. This happens a couple times a month, so I thought nothing of it. But, after about 10 minutes I realized we still hadn’t moved. I looked up from my magazine to see what was going on. To my surprise, I noticed there was a good 10-15 foot clearing around me on all sides. People were backing away from me like I was some sort of monster, all of them staring at me with looks of terror on their faces.

Turns out, I was the one having the medical emergency! Apparently, I had been barfing. A lot. Like, it was all over the place. I guess I was so caught up in what I was reading I didn’t notice that every time I exhaled, a thick arc of vomit was exploding out of my mouth. God, I felt like such a doof. There must have been three or four gallons of my vomit on the floor.  Soooo embarrassing!

I think all the uncontrollable barfing was just my body’s natural reaction to reading an editorial piece written by actor Michael Douglas in the latest issue of Newsweek entitled, “The Role of a Lifetime.” In it, we discover that Michael Douglas thinks a weekly news magazine is the perfect forum to publish the first draft of his family’s Christmas Newsletter.

(Warning: If you read this, you will probz barf.)

I’ve been married for seven years to an extraordinary woman 25 years younger than me, actress Catherine Zeta-Jones. We have two children, a daughter, 4, and a son, 7. To say my priorities have changed would be a gross understatement!…They are at a precious age, and I don’t want to miss a minute of it…Carys is at the stage when she’s discovered “dress-up”: purses, high heels–anything pink. Dylan is a big climber–rocks, mountains and trees. He loves the outdoors. I read with my kids every night. That has become a favorite for me.

Awww. That’s great, Michael Douglas! I’m so glad this is in a news magazine! What else, pray tell, is new with the Douglas fam?

We’ve moved to the island of Bermuda, where I spent a lot of time as a kid.

Who didn’t spend a lot time in Bermuda as a kid? Seriously though, how has your life changed since you moved to back to Bermuda?

I adjust my schedule to my wife’s, since she is in the prime of her career.

Wasn’t the prime of her career back when she was in movies and stuff? Whatever. All I really want to know is this: what is it like for Michael Douglas to be a day-to-day daddy? 

The kids know what Mommy does for a living, but they have never seen Daddy’s movies (they’re too young), so Mommy makes movies and Daddy makes pancakes!

HAHA! Daddy makes pancakes! Really? Michael Douglas making pancakes. That’s wonderful. 

I don’t really cook, but I am the takeout and home-delivery expert.

SO THE TRUTH COMES OUT!  You sly dog, you. Of course you don’t cook. That is too funny. All jokes aside, what about you, Michael Douglas? How are you doing? Didn’t moving to Bermuda make it impossible for you to do acting work? What about the projects you really care about?

Don’t get me wrong. I still go to work, but now only on projects I really care about. I have a new movie coming out called “King of California.” We filmed it in only 31 days, not like some of the 90-day shooting schedules of the past.

Thank God. That’s fantastic. Hey, could you possibly tell me more about this “King of California” project?

I play a father who reconciles with his 17-year-old daughter, played by Evan Rachel Wood. I understood and identified with the role. My oldest son from my first marriage, Cameron, who is 28, did not benefit from my new priorities. He was shortchanged. Nevertheless he understands now, and he knows how much I love him.

Well, if he doesn’t know, all he has to do is read Newsweek like the rest of us. 

When I went to college at the University of California, Santa Barbara, in the 1960s, you could graduate with a degree in home economics. It was eventually disbanded largely due to politics and the power of the women’s movement.

What?

I’m happy to see that “home ec” is currently being revived at some colleges.

Seriously, Michael Douglas, what the fuck are you talking about?

Basically, you want to try to leave this earth having given more to it than having taken away. That makes you a good citizen of the planet. If I can pass this on from generation to generation, that’s as close to immortality as I can hope to get.

Oh, really? You really think that? You don’t possibly think your two Oscars might immortalize you? Oops, guess what? You just got PLIPPS. And so did your kids. Even the damaged 28 year-old. PLIPPS. Also, the entire staff at Newsweek for letting this get published…PLIPPS. PLIPPS. PLIPPS.