I live in New York. I am a comedian, writer and actor. My day job is blogging for VH1.com. I write about the silly things celebrities and pop stars do, so you know...God's work.
You may have seen my writing on many other reputable websites (The Huffington Post, Hello Giggles, xojane.com, The Hairpin, Splitsider, The FW, etc.). I also write crazy blogs about Game of Thrones, Magneto and Jeff Goldblum.
I don't want to talk about anything with you except Star Trek Into Darkness.
Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor
The Only Sandwich I Can Brownbag
After 27 years of life, I’ve finally found a sandwich that I get excited about making at home the night before and bringing to work the next day.
It is:
—2 freshly sliced loaves of fresh bakery bread
—drizzled with balsamic vinegar
—freshly sliced fresh mozzarella on one slice of bread
—freshly sliced fresh tomato on the other slice of bread
—sprinkle tarragon or other seasoning on both slices
—add two slices of salami
—combine the two sides into BOOM! one sandwich!
—bring it to work the next day with a cup of Chobani yogurt and an apple and SAVE YO LUNCH MONEY!
I would show you a photo of this glorious sandwich but it’s in my stomach. (Also I want to add basil in the future.)
Sartorial tip: menus in cheap Indian restaurants* can also be used as hats.
*Sonar Gaow on 6th between 1st and 2nd. $7.95 dinner special that includes soup, samosa, dinner entree and naan. BYOB. So, that plus tip plus a bottle of Yellow Tail=$18 for the night!
Baby Jesus Take The Wheel
Between the day before Thanksgiving and the day after New Years Day, my entire diet strategy changes. It goes from “everything in healthy moderation” to “Jesus take the wheel!”
The problem with this change in strategy is that this is the time of year when Jesus is Baby Jesus. Babies can’t drive. Babies can’t see over steering wheels. Baby Jesus is going to crash.
Basically, what I’m saying is I will be gaining five to fifteen pounds before the New Year starts because someone named me put a baby in charge of everything.
Dear Stomach,
We need to talk.
It would appear that you have shrunk. This is the fourth meal this week that I should have been able to finish with room for more, but could not. When I buy a chicken plate from The Pump, I want to scrape individual grains of rice from the bottom of the cardboard bowl. When I go to Chip Shop and order just cheese and chips, I expect it to be easy to scarf the whole thing. I shouldn’t have to breath heavy and focus on serenity to get that sweet, salty goodness down my throat. I don’t buy garlic knots to ward off vampires. I buy them to eat them.
So, stomach, what’s going on? Is it because I quit drinking? You mad? Or is it because I’ve switched eating bagels for breakfast with free Special K from the office canteen? That could make a stomach mad.
Please let me know what’s wrong. Or, if this is going to be a permanent thing, please be sure that the results are mirrored in my waistline. It’s going to be summer soon. I’m going to want to wear tight clothes. I don’t need my stomach bulging out like a tumor because I wanted to eat my full 500 calories worth of a Pump chicken plate. We’re going to have to discuss what I’m supposed to do at barbecues this summer because you are going to have to pull your weight.
Sorry you’re mad, stomach.
Sincerely,
Me.
