Jimmy's Juke Joint

And Again...

Busy rehearsing for the show that opens tomorrow!  Just see the post below and come see the show!

HomeGroan and the Goblet of Fire

It's that time again.  More debaucherous fun from HomeGroan Sketch Comedy.  Our new show, HOMEGROAN and the GOBLET OF FIRE opens on Tuesday, November 15th.  Written and performed by Jimmy Aquino (That's me!), Julie Blanciak, Lara Buck, Brian Ferdman, Tom Protulipac, and Pam Warwick.  Directed by Gregg Bellon. It's some funny stuff and I expect you all there.  All info:

Tuesdays: November 15, 22, 29 & December 6 @ 8pm

The Greenwich Village Center- 219 Sullivan St (b/w Bleecker & West 3rd)  Subways: 1/2/3 to Christopher St. or A/B/C/D/E/F to West 4th.

Tickets: $12 in Advance/$15 Day of Show

Reservations:  Call 212 352 3101 or visit TheaterMania!

You can also go to HomeGroan Sketch Comedy for the info as well. 

Some hints of what to expect.  Me as David Copperfield.  Me as a stereotypical Asian. Katrina and the Waves. Odd smells.  Tango & Cash.  Tara Reid.  The Rolling Stones.  Sabrina the teenage witch. 4 yr. olds. And me as Lil' Kim.  That's right.  You read right.  That's worth the price of admission alone. 

Tech rehearsal is today at noon.  Another pick up rehearsal on Monday.  And the show opens on Tuesday! 

Come see it folks!  I guarantee a good time!  Yes, guarantee.  And not like that annoying guy from the Men's Wearhouse commercials.  I can back it up.  If you don't like it, then I will either ply you with enough liquor or sex until you are satisfied.  Often both.  That's just how I roll. 

An Apology From My Agent, Drew Rosenhaus

Terrell Owens.  What an ass. A talented ass, but still an ass.  You may have heard about his suspension from his team, the Philadelphia Eagles.  He had talked smack about his team, got in a fight with a teammate, talked smack about his coach and just acted like he normally does.  A selfish prick.  So, the Eagles suspended him indefinitely.  He's out for the whole season.  So, he decided to wait a few days and apologize.  He did.  Seemed somewhat insincere about it.  And, then it got worse. 

His agent is this bigger ass named Drew Rosenhaus.  Just look at him.  Also known as "The Shark" of sports agents.  Once named the most hated man in the NFL.  And he's not even a player!  JERRY MAGUIRE, the movie,  has a character loosely based on him.  He's a bigger dick than T.O. That's Terrell Owens.  I was just talking about him, so keep up! Anyway, he's about as good at apologies as T.O.  He gets up after T.O. finishes his little bit and begins to apologize for T.O. Instead, it comes off like a cocky rant and berating of the media for making T.O. look so bad.  Dick and Dicker.

I was thinking.  Some people have misunderstood emails or stuff I say in this blog.  I want to say I'm sorry for all of that.  I have hired Drew Rosenhaus to speak for me (in red text).  He will take questions (in blue text)  at the end.  Drew will now be taking over this blog.

I am Drew Rosenhaus, Jimmy Aquino's Blog Agent.  Jimmy Aquino is sorry if he upset you for things he said in this blog.  Jimmy Aquino has a very sarcastic and fun sense of humor and meant no harm. Maybe it's your fault that you don't get it.  You should get an education.  Jimmy Aquino is a member of Mensa.  He shouldn't have to wait for you all to understand him.  Jimmy Aquino is too good for you.  Jimmy Aquino wants to continue with this blog.  Jimmy Aquino writes a humorous daily missive for you to read and you just don't appreciate it.  What more do you want from him?  You should all just appreciate his talent and get over your own egos and low self esteem.  Jimmy Aquino isn't here to pamper you.  Go to your mother for that.  Questions?

Will Jimmy stop being so sarcastic?

Next question.

Will Jimmy ever differentiate when he is kidding and explain to us when he isn't?

Next question.

If Jimmy had never met you, would he be such a narcissistic and mean humored asshole finding himself in a position where he has to apologize?

Next question.

Is Jimmy Aquino actually a famous writer ghosting on this blog?

Jimmy Aquino is Jimmy Aquino.  He is brilliant, funny and certainly should be a famous writer.  If you got off his back, he just might make it.  So, keep reading this every day and learn something for once.  No more questions! Good-bye!

MySpace Friends

I'm sure you have all heard of the phenomenon that is MySpace.  Originally designed in 2003 to be a site for bands to profile themselves, it rocketed into the biggest social networking site around.  Easy template to use with options to add your own mixed media.  Pictures, blog, comments, interests and friends.  Here in lies the dilemma.  Friends.  Who woulda thunk? 

Now, we all know this is my blog.  My REAL blog.  Fret not, oh Type Pad gods, I am not betraying you.  Not that you care, because I pay for this particular site.  MySpace is free.  It just didn't have the freedom that I wanted to blog and display stuff like this here blog that you are reading does. The only reason I joined MySpace was because my friend's niece, Mia and her friend, Melaina, wanted me to join.  You remember them from way back in one of my first posts. 

Back to the friends on MySpace.  Basically how this works:  a person sees your profile and wants to be able to comment, leave messages, etc.  So, they send a request to be your "friend."  If you approve, then they can comment away!  And, their default picture that they have chosen will appear with their MySpace screen name in your "Friends" section.  Only 8 of them appear on the front page, but you can view all of a person's "friends" if you click into that section.  This is the problem.  Apparently, there is an unwritten rule to try to have as many friends as possible.  I understand Mia and Melaina.  They're in high school.  Of course they have tons of friends and it's a competition and stuff.  I didn't really take note of this until I added a few more.  A friend or 2 from work.  Mia's little sisters.  An old friend in California.  Wow.  I've got 8 friends!  Wheeee!!  I was noticing other people's profiles.  In their 20's and 30's who had hundreds of friends.  What?  Are you serious?  ALL of those people are your friends.  Riiggghhhtttt.  You thought that guy was cute so you added him as a friend.  You're so popular.  Get over yourselves people!  And now a bunch of people I know in real life have started joining.  Through a couple of close friends, some acquaintances have requested me to "add" them as a friend.  Okay, here's my thing.  Sure, it's probably harmless.  But, if I don't have your phone number or even email address, how are we friends?  I actually ran into a dude whom I've known for a couple of years.  We have mutual friends.  We have only hung out if those mutual friends are around.  I don't particularly like him.  He had sent me a request to add him as a friend last week and I denied it.  And then, in person, he starts busting my balls about it.  "When are you going to add me?"  I did a little rope-a-dope to avoid.  That's a boxing term for evading, bitches!  He was seriously upset that I hadn't added him.  I don't know if it lets the person know they were denied, but I honestly don't care.  What is that all about?  Getting upset in real life over not being friends on line.  Wow.  Frickin egos. 

Also, in the beginning, which has only been a few months, I had added a friend of a friend just because I had only a few people.  I had met this girl once.  We spoke for a few minutes and now she lives in California.  I recently deleted her because I thought it was just stupid.  My other friends that visit my profile might ask who she is.  "Uh, some girl I met once for a few minutes."  Nice.  And, to top it off, the friend of the deleted girl reprimands me for it saying that this girl will be pissed.  Puh-leaze.  She had over 300 "friends".  I doubt she even noticed. 

Now, MySpace has added more fuel to the fire.  The 8 friends that appear on the front page can now be picked by you and not just posted in the order they were added.  This has caused a big ruckus!  EVERYONE wants to be on the front page!  Who the fuck cares?  Really.  Is your ego that fragile that you need to be in front?  As a joke, I gave 2 of my friends a hard time when I was removed from their front pages.  They apologized and put me back.  One, actually didn't mean to remove me, but the other one did.  She only put me back out of guilt.  Wow.  Just kidding, kids!  I appreciate the props, but it's all good. 

Get over it "friends".  You don't know each other.  Who cares if you do?  Sheeeesh.  Currently, I have 14 people as friends.  The only 2 I don't know are Mia's little sisters.  But, I'm meeting them on Thanksgiving and besides, I couldn't remove an 11 and 13 yr old as a friend.  That just ain't right!  My goal is to stay under 20.  Although, some more of my real friends are getting turned on to it.  So, maybe 25.  That's it! 

If you feel the need to have a gajillion so called friends, then you need therapy.  You obviously have issues and fear of abandonment.  I love my solitude and I love my friends.  The real ones.  The ones I talk to on the phone, go to the movies with, get drunk with, have sex with, etc.  Well, if I'm having sex with a friend it usually costs money.  And that's illegal.  Rant over.  Get some real friends and have fun!  Or play with your 679 friends on line and die unhappy and alone.  Your choice. 

Crazy Former Co-worker

This is going to be a nasty and weird story. And true.  I know it's hard to differentiate in this blog cuz I always come with the jokes.  Rest assured, it did happen.  I ran into this guy the other night at the diner. Let's call him C.  I used to work with C at a bar way back in '97.  We never really hung out and he seemed like an alright guy.  Very All-American ex-high school football quarterback looking type.  Big guy.  When I used to work out, hold the laughter...yes, I used to do that...anyway, he and I worked out at the same gym.  He was steroid beefy.  So, I never really wanted to cross him.  And, I didn't.  I left the job after awhile to do that whole acting tour thing.  I would run into him off and on in the neighborhood.  Normally, just small talk and what not.  Always the same convo.  He would say how much he hates the other bartender he works with that I always hated.  We commiserate on that.  Seriously, EVERY time we see each other.  Same convo.

Then, the crazy emerged.  It was probably always there, but just didn't have the opportunity to show it.  I went to one of the diner's in my hood that I sometimes hit after work or after a late night on the town.  Order some food and take it to go.  About a year ago, I run into the diner.  C is sitting at the sort of "to go" bar.  I see him and we, of course, commiserate on the hated bartender.  Oh, you're probably wondering why those guys still work in the same place bartending after 8 years.  It's a hotel and it's union.  So, they are banking it.  Back to the lecture at hand.  C is chilling and I go sit by him.  Place my order and have to wait.  Needless to say, that means we have to have a conversation.  Once again, never had anything against the guy, just annoyed that we always talk about the same thing.  Perhaps he felt the same thing, because he flipped the switch....BIG TIME!

C starts by saying he wants my advice about a girl.  Refreshed at this query, I listen intently.  To my dismay.  He tells me he met this girl at the bar one night and they hit it off and were dating for a couple of weeks.  He was REALLY into her.  And he claims she really liked him.  He tells me how they were joking around one day and somehow, and I honestly don't know how, they joked about her peeing in his mouth.  I am not making this up.  Gross, I know.  He continues by telling me about how they were lying in bed and she gets up to go to the bathroom.  He says, "Wait a minute, baby!  Come do it in my mouth!"  She laughs, thinking he's joking.  He assures her he's serious because he loves her that much.  He relates how creeped out she got and they dropped it.  And, then, for some reason, she stopped taking his calls.  He was genuinely incredulous.  Had no idea why she wouldn't return his call. 

Oh, it's not over.  Pee in his mouth boy is a stalker.  He goes on to tell me, "Jimmy, I've been calling her at least 10 times a day, texting her all the time, stopped by her apartment, etc.  And she still doesn't get back to me.  I'll do it early in the morning and late in the night.  Still nothing."  I ask how long they had been broken up.  He says, "About a month."  He's been stalking her for a month!  For the love of Buddha!  Mind you, C is the big beefy steroid dude.  Realizing that he is now crazy made for a very awkward moment.  Inner monologue at that moment, "WHERE THE HELL IS MY ROAST BEEF SANDWICH!  GET ME OUTTA HERE!"  I had no idea what to say.  I try to suggest that maybe he should give it up.  He says, "Are you sure? Maybe I'll try a few more times."  He would not give up.  Finally, I suggest, "Listen, dude.  Give it one more try and then if you hear nothing after a day, then forget about it.  Plenty of other girls out there to stalk...uh...harass...uh....love!"  He reluctantly agrees.  And, in the nick of time, the sandwich arrives.  It wasn't even that good. 

I hurriedly exit and ponder whether that convo had actually happened.  Yep, it did.   I often avoid that diner now in fear of running into C.  It's apparently his late night, after work hang out.  So, when I ran into him the other night, I just shrugged my shoulders and sat next to him.  Apparently, he now lives in the neighborhood and has for awhile.  That's why I often see him walking down the street.  Lucky me. 

 

The Boondocks

The Boondocks.  Heard of it?  Probably not.  It's been in syndicated newspapers for quite a few years now.  Created by Aaron McGruder (that's him above with his creations.) as a comic strip, it made it's debut last night as a cartoon on The Cartoon Network's (adult swim) programming schedule at 11pm on Sundays.  Check out the website for more info about THE BOONDOCK'S.  The site says this about the show, "When Robert 'Granddad' Freeman becomes legal guardian of his grandkids, he moves them from the south side of Chicago to the quiet and safety of the suburbs.  Huey and Riley Freeman may torture each other and provoke the neighborhood, but they are no match for Granddad, who's eccentric even by "crazy-ass-old-black-man" standards."

The first episode followed the brilliance and in your face style of McGruder.  Told through the eyes of Huey Freeman.  A 10 yr. old African-American kid who could be described as a future revolutionary, present day pessimist and intellectual terrorist.  He makes white people feel as awkward as possible and is always trying to stick it to the man.  His little brother is a gangsta wannabe.  Granddad, the cranky old realist.

This isn't just an anti-white thing.  McGruder takes on all ethnicity's, quite often his own, religions, classes, etc.  He uses the innocence of children to point out the ridiculous and crazy state of affairs in this world.  Often making us look at ourselves in the process.  Yeah, it's no kid's cartoon.  It's powerful stuff.  He still manages to use plenty of humor to tell his story.  So, tune in.  Better yet, pick up one of the trade paperbacks.  There's a link over there in my "Hot Comics" section.  You'll thank me later.

I know what you're thinking.  "Oh, this is Jimmy thinking he's black again."  I'm Filipino and Irish.  Perhaps, BLACK Irish!  Sure, there are many aspects of the so called black lifestyle that I follow, adopt and live by.  Music, culture, clothing, films, etc.  But, it's not about color.  It's about soul.  And like my man, James Brown,  I'm super bad!  So, eat it suckas! 

Hung Over

Ugh.  Ouch.  Yeah, you'd think I'd know better by now.  Staying out too late drinking and having to get up early the next day.  Early being 11 a.m.  However, I didn't roll in until after 4am and probably didn't get to bed until after 5.  AND was awoken by that fucking jack hammer AGAIN at 8 something.  Yeah, yeah...I know.  It's my own fault.  I was set to go straight home from work last night and then some of my peoples came by. 2 of the female persuasion and 2 of their friends.  "I'll just have one drink with them and go home.", I thought to myself.  Somehow, that ended up being several drinks.  I'm a sucker for the girlies.  I blame them for it all!  Curse you and your feminine wiles!  But, would you go home if this showed up at your bar wanting to hang out?

And by hang out, I mean HANG OUT.  Woo hooo!  Okay, okay.  The above pair did not make an appearance.  Though I tried very hard for them too.  I used the standard pulling out a $20 and got smacked in the face.  I thought that worked on everyone? 

Aight, gotta bounce.  Nap time.  Maybe then I'll feel better.  At least I'll have the above image to help me rest.  Feel free to borrow it any time.  No charge.

CABA-WHAT??!!!

One of my fellow cast members in HomeGroan Sketch Comedy is also playing "Sally Bowles" in the musical CABARET.  It's at a small college up in New Rochelle, about a 45 minute train ride from NYC.  A few of the sketch group and I went to go see her in the show last night.  I'm not really going to review it so much as make fun of people.  Oh, wait.  That's what I always do.  Moving on. 

First, the reason I titled the post the way I did was because of the in house orchestra.  They were so inaudible that I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs just to let them know we can't hear them.  No, that's not right.  The actors had to scream and sing at the top of their lungs because the orchestra was SO FUCKING LOUD!!! It was a very small space and small stage.  The band (it's shorter to type than orchestra...sue me.) was placed on a platform above behind the stage.  Throughout most of the show, it was really hard to hear the singers.  They didn't use mic's because of the small size of the stage.  And really didn't need them if the band would TONE IT DOWN! My poor friend, Lara, was screaming her lungs out during some of her solos.  And she's got some nice big lungs.  It seemed to be one of those things where the small town, small college production band just wanted to blow the house out.  LOOK AT US!  WE'RE PLAYING INSTRUMENTS!  WHEEEEEE!!!!  And, they were the only ones getting paid.  So, take it down a notch and cash your checks, ya punks! 

It's always hard going to see a friend in a show.  What if they suck?  What if you want to leave? What if you do leave, go down the street to the bar, get drunk, come back wasted, act like you saw it all and then vomit on them?  Or do I just do that?  Hmmm....  Something to think about.  I have worked with Lara for a year in the sketch group.  She's frickin funny as hell on stage and a really good writer of sketches as well.  I hadn't seen her in anything else.  Gotta say, it was nice.  She rocked in the lead role!  Thank goodness.  Because, if you remember from a previous post, I suck at lying about that.  Well done, LB! 

There were a few others that stood out.  And a few more that stood out in not a good way.  The annoying girl who kept hamming up every scene.  The annoying guy who seemed so stiff and robotic with weird facial expressions.  The girls who looked very uncomfortable trying to be sexy Kit Kat girls.  Speaking of...if you are familiar with the show or not, The Kit Kat Club is the setting for most of the show.  A dive-y speakeasy in pre-WWII Berlin. 

Scantily clad dance hall girls all over.  The Kit Kat girls.  There were a few hotties in the bunch.  I had a hard time trying to figure out where to look at times.  However, there were some not so attractive and didn't know how to be sexy.  But, the ones that did know how to move, let me just say, I could get them a job at Hustler Club.  The above pic is from some random cast I found on Google.  Not the show I saw.  You get the idea though. 

Honestly, I really didn't want to go see this last night.  If some other friend was in it, I might not have.  Sure, it's about 4 hours I'll never get back.  But, I'm glad I got to see my friend rock it out in the lead.

And, seeing several half-naked college girls helped as well.  Helped A LOT. 

NBA Season Opener & Basketball Memories

Yesterday was the official tip off for the N.B.A.  N.B.A.?  What is that?  Nigerian Bratwurst Artisans?  No Big Asses?  Normal Brown Artichokes?  Nasty Bitches Academy?  Well, that last one is the alma mater of many an ex-girlfriend.  No, it's none of them.  It's the National Basketball Association, punks.  You knew that though, didn't you?  I told you, you're getting smarter and smarter the more you read my daily musings.  Go ahead.  Test it out.  I'll be seeing you at Mensa meetings in no time.  And if you don't know what Mensa is, then you are not worthy enough yet. 

"Basketball is my favorite sport.  I love the way they dribble up and down the court." Not the finest rap lyrics ever, but Kurtis Blow was just giving some props to the sport back in the 80's.  Still, he had a point.  I do so like how they dribble up and down that court.  I played all in my youth.  Oh yes, you can feel it.  We're going back in time, kids.   Hold on!

I started playing ball when I was 4.  Well, then it was just playing with a ball, not really anything else.  By the time I was 6 or 7, I was playing regularly.  We wuz poor and my moms sent my big bro and I to The Boy's Club during the summer.  She'd drop us off early in the morning, go to work and come pick us up after 5.  Long, fun days.  My brother and I were the only 2 Filipino's.  Everyone else was of the African American descent.  And one white dude.  We were a family.  We took care of each other and I always had my back covered.  No one screwed with me when I had Big Rog as my Black Big Brother! I started playing on the playground and the Boy's Club court early.  Then, they started doing a league and moms joined me up!

Check it...I was point guard at 8 years old! I was top scorer as well.  Oh yeah, I could ball.  I continued to play almost every day.  On my own after school.  Giving myself goals to make a certain amount each day.  I'd stay there until night fall and get in trouble with moms quite often.  "I'm trying to be like Dr. J!", I would cry.  She would reply, "You're gonna be like Dr. Dead if you don't watch it!"  Not the most clever with the retorts, but she got the point across.  I never thought of playing in school, then one day during gym in 7th grade, we were playing ball and I was rocking!  The coach of the 7th grade team approached me and asked me to come play for the team.  Moms was against school teams, but would let me play in leagues outside of school. Never quite got that logic.  But, with much coaxing from the coach and myself, I got to play. 

The season had already started and the team was miserable.  After 2 games I was starting as point guard.  Upsetting the starter who often cried like a little bitch on the bench when he couldn't play.  But, I couldn't find my mojo.  I had lost my game.  I was still a mad passer and could call out plays and was the top assist man.  I just couldn't score.  I rarely shot.  I remember my first point was a free throw.  A FREE THROW!  What the hell happened to me?  All I could chalk it up to was that I was used to playing street ball and all these new fangled rules were getting in the way.  The only foul on the streets was actually punching, kicking or tackling someone on purpose.  You could shove all you want.  Take shots all you want.  Whatever.  Had I played my style, I might have taken more shots on my own, but I had to follow the coach's playbook.  Curse him!  He ruined my career!  We ended up winning about 2 games that season.  8th grade, I was out with an injury, but then got back to playing in 9th grade.  I was not big on the growing and my coach was a dick.  He recruited tall boys just because they were tall.  Some had no skills at all.  I was bench sitting often and when I did get to play, it was at little amounts of time.  For some reason, I scored a lot.  Probably because I was so pissed at the coach that I would go out and play my style.  And then get benched for leading a comeback because I didn't use his plays.  What an ass.  By 10th grade, I realized I probably wouldn't be playing much since I wasn't growing much.  So, I just contented myself to playing after school with friends.  My N.B.A. career was over before it started.  Why did my frickin brother get to be 6'?  I was better than him and I could have used the height!  Damn you Gregor Mendel and your Punnett Squares! 

Which brings us back to the N.B.A.  See how I do that?  Right back to where I started!  Season opener.  I followed a lot of teams as a kid and loved different players.  I never really had a home team.

Then, I moved to New York City in '94.  I had been watching the Knicks before that and really liked the team and coach Pat Riley.  '94 was the year they went to the finals and lost in game 7 to Houston.  It was that close.  Even though they broke my heart right off the bat, I stuck with them like that ex-girlfriend that knows how to get you going, but continually disappoints you.  They officially became my team.  I go to games, I got jerseys, I know players, etc.  I love going to games, but don't get the fans who boo their own team.  What is that?  Let me see you get YOUR fat ass out there and try to drive past Shaq!  Shut up and eat your hot dog, ya moron!  Sure, they can suck and it's frustrating to watch.  But, they are still better than you!  I had high hopes when Isaiah Thomas took over, but he hasn't made the best choices in players either.  We'll see how this season goes. 

Oh, our season opener?  We lost to Boston in over time.  Hey! At least we got them to over time!  They got big stars on that team.  Our biggest name is still Stephon Marbury.  And new coach Larry Brown.  I gots high hopes for you boys!  Don't let me down!  Again. We're only 0-1.  *sigh*

If I wasn't getting old and fat and injured, I'd take your ass to the hole and drop the rock on you!  Take you to flight school and kick you off at the first floor.  Show you how to jam, suckas!  I guess we'll never know.  Unless you want to meet at the park for some one on one.  Play to 15.  1 point per basket.  Half court.  Bring it.

Busy!

I am quite busy lately.  Doing lotsa stuff. 

Get it?  Busy as a bee?  Damn, I'm so clever.  How busy is a bee?  They just fly around and pollinate and make honey and sting you.  Not too far from my life. But, in case you're wondering, this is how I roll.

Currently, I am writing sketch comedy, performing it, rehearsing, working the bar, managing the bar, daily blog writing, net surfing, podcasting, tricking, meeting new people, hanging with friends, dissing friends, drinking, eating, tasting, kissing, tutoring Hungarian strippers, making love to said Hungarian strippers instead of tutoring, trying to rise above the bullshit in life, ignoring mean people, flirting, waiting for new movies and music to come out, going to movies, buying stuff, spending money on friends, running naked in my building, dropping off my laundry, watching TV, talking on the phone, text messaging, instant messaging, bike messaging, pigeon carrier messaging, listening to my iPod, illegally downloading, watching porn....lots of it, reacting to watching porn....lots of reacting, working on writing projects, submitting articles, writing my greatest story in the world, loving my moms and my sister, dealing with injuries, preparing for my thanksgiving trip to Seattle, posting on line, emailing, making plans with my fellow brown coats, promoting, acting stoooooopid, making fun of people, laughing in the face of adversity, dancing, singing, acting like I can dance and sing, solving problems, worrying about things, having fun with life and eventually sleeping.  (Then dreaming and other things!) 

Busy much?  How about you?  Stay tuned...