Twitter and Twits

Bizarro is brought to you today by Gifted Equines.

I don't Twitter yet – or Tweet, or Twit – but I'm told I should. I can't remember anything else ever sweeping the globe as quickly as this thing has. A year ago, I don't know that I'd even heard of Twitter, now I can't watch five minutes of the news without someone mentioning it. As well as millions of average nobodies like you and me, celebs, polititicians, terrorists, and who-knows-who else is Tweeting. Here's a random sample from this morning:

Demi Moore..."Ashton is playing with his Hot Wheels on the living room floor again and some of my lady friends are coming over for bridge soon!"

John McCain..."Okay, I confess, I'm a young guy hired to make McCain look hip. He's sleeping in the back seat of the limo again."

Pope Benedict XVI..."Damn, these masses are long. I get hungry. Thank God I thought to stash some bratwurst and beer in my big tall hat."

Okay, I admit that last one was made up. The pope likely is Tweeting, but I doubt any of them are about bratwurst or beer. More likely, he sends out hourly reminders for people not to use contraception or to let their women get too much authority.

Speaking of which, Sarah Palin has been batting 1000 lately. Man, what a media train wreck she is. Her "Quitters Are Losers And I'm No Loser So I'm Quitting The Governorship" speech led me to create the following image. Hope you like it. If you don't recognize the reference, watch this.

Body Snatchers

Today's Bizarro is brought to you by Eight Dead Pop Stars.

So Jacko is dead. I've done a few Michael Jackson cartoons and posts over the years and I was no kinder to him than any other humorist. I've always felt sorry for him, though, he was obviously a supremely talented kid driven mad by a strange life and family.

Preliminary rumblings are that his death was a result of prescription drug abuse. That stuff will wear on your body and a heart attack is a classic result. As Keith Richards well knows, home-grown drugs are a lot safer than some of the poisons that Big Pharm puts out. (Although there are unsubstantiated reports that Keith Richards has been dead for years and that the copious amounts of drugs in him are only creating the appearance of life.)

More surprising than his death was how much of the news cycle this story has and still is devouring. I personally think that few people short of a figure of national political importance deserves so many hours of non-stop reporting. There was nothing to report in the end, other than that he was famous, he was relatively young, he died. I sympathize with the news anchors who had to stay on the air hour after hour and think of things to say. It must have been excruciating and exhausting.

One person who is undoubtedly happy about this news is Governor Mark Sanford, who's own public insanity has been bumped from the headlines for now.

I was born seven weeks after Michael Jackson in 1958, I can't help but wonder if I'll be dead of a heart attack seven weeks from now. The fact that I have not abused my body for most of my adult life with eating disorders, elective surgery, prescription drugs, and god-knows-what-else will likely work in my favor in this regard. I hope so, anyway.

NOTE: I'm off for a few days to a family reunion and wedding and won't be posting until Tuesday of next week. Have a great weekend, mi amigos.

Lip Brush With Fame

On occasion I get mistaken for Elvis Costello by people who don't really know what Elvis Costello looks like. They see glasses and a hat and figure I must be him. But now it will be an even more frequent nuisance, because Elvis is sporting a mustache. Damn that look-stealing limey. What next? A cigar?













He has even fashioned his hairline to look like mine, as evidenced in this photo of him doffing his hat at the end of Conan O'Brien's show last night.















For anyone interested in how to accurately tell the difference between myself and Costello in the wild, I offer this brief list of defining characteristics:

1. His hair is longer and wavy, mine is very short
2. The brims of his hats are larger than mine
3. His clothing is expensive, mine is mostly from resale shops and smells of cigars
4. He has Diana Krawl on his arm, I have CHNW (personally, I think I come out ahead on this one)
5. I am the one occasionally mistaken for Elvis Costello, he is the one never mistaken for me.

Party Story

I went to a terrific party last night at the Bowery Hotel in NYC. It was a record release party for Rhett Miller's latest solo album. Rhett is the lead singer/songwriter for Old 97s, one of my fave groups, and his solo albums are just as good.
















We met a few years ago after one of his shows and discovered we'd been fans of each other's work for years. We've been friends ever since. Rhett is much taller than I, but he tactfully knelt down beside me for this photo.














Here we are with Rhett's dentist, Rich Weiss. He's a fun dude, as you can tell from the pic. He reports that although people regularly tell him that dentists have a very high suicide rate, he feels no such inclinations.

Also in attendance was one of my favorite comedians, Paul F. Tompkins. He's a very friendly fellow who spent a good long while chatting with me, assuring me he was familiar with my cartoons and never letting on for a second that he wished I would go away. A real mensch.














I gave him my contact info, if I never hear from him, I'll know he is also a good pretender.

Paul arrived with his lovely fiance, Janey ( Janie? Janee? Jay-knee? I didn't ask her how she spells it) and his talented comedian friend, Todd Barry, seen here in the background.














Todd was nice, too, although I spent more time talking to Paul and didn't get a picture with Todd. I felt bad because he was in "The Wrestler" and I haven't seen that movie yet. He's also been in a couple of episodes of "Flight of the Conchords," one of my favorite shows in the world of television and which makes me very jealous of him. Afraid that the jealously would show and possibly lead to a donnybrook, I steered clear of Todd for the most part.

Janeane Garafalo joined us a for a couple of hours, whom CHNW and I know from the benefit comedy shows she's done with us for Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary. She's a peach, and a brilliant and funny one, at that.

Toward the end of the evening, Rhett played some of his new songs and everyone was richer for the experience. After the official party was over, CHNW and I avoided the "after party" and went home, because I've been sick with some kind of hideous head cold. If the aforementioned celebs get sick in the coming week or so, you'll know it was my fault. I warned them to wash their hands and not to kiss me, but celebrities never listen.

Rolling Stone gave Rhett's new album 4 stars, buy it now.

Zither Here Nor There

Today's Bizarro is brought to you by Rock 'n' Roll Music!

It is weird to think that for most people, by the time you hit middle age, you've made a million dollars cumulatively. Where the hell does it all go?

I wish I'd saved more, invested more wisely, spent less on plastic dust covers for all my furniture and lamps. If I had, perhaps I'd be able to retire by now and spend more time on my real passions, miniature golf and the zither.

For now, I'll just keep plugging away at a cartoon each day and buying lottery tickets. Eventually, it's all bound to pay off.

By the way, this idea came from my friend in LA, Chris Fisher. He works behind the camera in video and film so he gets to hang out with big TV and movie stars sometimes. While working on HBO's "John Adams," he gave one of my books to Paul Giamatti, for which I will be eternally grateful. Here is a candid shot of him sharing it with Laura Linney.

Save My Reputation

World-famous cartoonist, Dan Piraro, at a Halloween party in 1991 wearing a costume of his own design, holding a baby who was not. (of his own design)

Okay, I'm putting myself on the line here by telling you I'm involved in an auction. I say "on the line" because if nobody bids to have lunch with me, I'll look very unpopular, at least with people who have easy access to NYC and are willing to pay over a $200 to have lunch with somebody who is not a prostitute or an elected official. Not including food.

Come to think of it, that's seems pretty steep. Now I feel a lot of pressure to be enchanting and fabulous at lunch, if someone does bid. Why do I get myself into these things?

It's for a good cause, so bid away, even if you have no intention of meeting me for lunch. Here's my auction: Lunch with a Loser
Here's the other auctions for the same charity: People More Famous Than Dan Piraro

Master Disguise Kit

Bizarro is brought to you today by impractically large beaches.

I haven't been thrilled with all my cartoons from this particular week, but I really like this one. It isn't for everyone and won't end up on a best-selling T-shirt (come to think of it, none of my cartoons have ever been best-selling T-shirts) but it has that certain combo of dry surreal humor and social commentary that I find amusing.

If you don't live in a celebrity soaked environment like NY or LA, you may not know that virtually ALL celebrities who do not want to be noticed in public wear sunglasses and a ball cap. I'm not criticizing, just observing. For all I know there is a Screen Actors Guild bylaw about this that I am unaware of.

I suppose it makes sense in the context of our current fashion mores. If you want to cover the part of your body that most people will recognize, which for celebrities other than J-Lo is the face, you'll need either a brimmed hat or a veil. Veils attract a lot of attention, the opposite of what you're trying to do, and brimmed hats other than ball caps are not common enough in our society to go unnoticed.

Sunglasses hide the eyes, so that's an obvious choice.

I do wonder why more celebs don't opt for a false mustache, however. That can really change your look and, if it is obviously a fake, makes other people uncomfortable and less likely to stare. Wax lips do the same thing. People would either think, that person is wearing wax lips, eek, look away, or that poor person has shiny, plastic-looking deformed lips, I shouldn't stare. This option would work for just about any celebrity other than Angelina Jolie.

Nose glasses are a classic disguise but people now associate those with humor so you'd likely get one of those overly-friendly goobers on a chartered casino trip start kidding around with you. Then your cover is blown and you have to listen to their yammering about how much they enjoyed Tony Orlando in Branson last month. I get this from time to time from people who just think I'm wearing nose glasses. Welcome to my hell.

Rot, Papal, Fissures

(To see the comic big-like, click it)

Bizarro is brought to you today by Perfect Gifts Suggestions.

This cartoon is an unusual amalgamation of ideas from different places. A reader suggested I do something about Edward Rock/Paper/Scissors, and a friend of mine, Derek, whose ideas I have used before, suggested an idea about Edward Scissorneck. I thought each of these ideas had some merit, but neither appealed to me on its own. When combined, however, I think they make an interesting triptych.

Of course, the movie came out back in the 1900s and appealed to a cult demographic, so I suspect a lot of my older and very young readers will not get this gag at all. I don't mind publishing cartoons that some readers won't get, though, which is just another of the growing number of reasons that I'm not rich.

Longtime readers often ask me if I've thought of doing a Bizarro movie or animated TV show. I have, but with no recurring characters, story lines, or even subject matter, what would that show be like?

If you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them before all the newspapers in the country go out of business and I'm forced to seek employment at a Hollywood escort service.

Porn Star Encounter

While cleaning the employee lounge at Bizarro International Headquarters, a member of my janitorial crew came across this photo of me and Ron Jeremy, possibly the world's most famous male porn star.

We met at a party at the Playboy Mansion and though I had no idea who he was, he is a big fan of mine and begged me to take a picture with him. I'm a friendly, humble guy, in spite of my tremendous celebrity, so I accepted.

Mr. Jeremy is mostly retired from porn now, but in the 70s, he was the king. I've not actually seen any of his films and am not even sure if they are available on DVD, having mostly been filmed in the daguerreotype technology of the day.

Like pretty much all famous male porn stars, his claim to fame is the result of a singular genetic condition that, shall we say, sometimes makes it difficult to find slacks that fit properly.

I, too, have trouble finding slacks that fit, but it is because my wallet is so hugely stuffed with money.

Presidential Sweet

Bizarro is brought to you today by Painful Shoe Company.

I'll be honest with you, I think this is a dull joke. When you have to pull a new joke out of your hat 365 days a year for more than two decades, they can't all be brilliant. It isn't classic, but I figured maybe somebody out there who's recently been squooshed by the ponderously heavy elephant feet of the Republican economy might get a little smile out of it. Not that squooshed people are inclined to smile.

So instead, let's change the subject. A friend of mine sent me the following picture of Barack and Michelle on the campaign trail. I'd seen this pic before but hadn't noticed anything unusual about it. My friend, however, noticed that in the bottom right-hand corner of the newspaper B is reading is my cartoon! (click on the picture for a larger view!)

I can't tell if that's really my cartoon or not, but for the sake of shallow fantasies, I'm going to say it is. YES! BARACK OBAMA READS BIZARRO!

Spread the word, we'll check the facts later.

Comedy/Music Show

This Saturday, Sept 20, I'll be performing with Nellie McKay in Woodstock, NY. I've seen Nellie's live shows several times and she's always incredibly charming, funny, sexy, and her musical talents will impress even the most hardcore Metallica fan.

I'll be doing about 45 minutes of my multi-media comedy show, then Nellie will be doing a set of about the same length. All the proceeds will go to Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary. If you're coming to the show, drop by the farm that day or the next for a look. You'll love it and I can offer you a personal tour. Just ask for me when you arrive, I'll be around somewhere.

By the way, I will be wearing my hat when I perform but Nellie will not be wearing her headphones.

Tim Russert

I was very saddened to hear of Tim Russert's death last week. He was one of the precious few journalists with the integrity to nail politicians with tough questions and demand an answer. A huge loss for us as a country.

Last Christmas, I did a cartoon about Tim in collaboration with a comedy writer friend, also a fan of his, Andy Cowan. Days after it appeared, Tim's best friend wrote to me and asked if he could buy the original art and give it to him for Christmas. I agreed and sent the cartoon to him. A couple of days later, Tim's wife wrote and asked the same question. I told her who had bought it with the same intention and she was happy that Tim would get it, one way or the other. A couple of weeks later, Tim mentioned it briefly on Meet the Press, clearly flattered that he had made it to the funny papers. I have long since forgiven Tim for getting my first name wrong.



Sometimes it really seems only the good die young.

Triumph the Comic Insult Dog

I meant to post this ages ago, but this is the video that Robert Smigel did for our comedy show in New York benefitting Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary in May. The lineup included Janeane Garofolo, Louis CK, Gary Gulman, Dave Attell, Will Franken, and me as MC. It was a great show and a good time was had by all.

The human in the video is Doug Abel, the co-founder of Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary. He's also a successful film and TV editor, so he knows a lot of cool dudes like Shmigel, Attell and Louis CK. Here's a page about the show.

Comedy Show Santa Cruz

I'll be in Santa Cruz THIS FRIDAY NIGHT at a wham-kerbloom comedy show with my good buddies and dyn-o-mite performers, Johnny Steele and Will Durst. Also on the bill is a guy I don't know yet, but is said to be funnier than a rabid weasel in the president's pants, Richard Stockton. It's a big show, like two hours long, and you'll laugh every minute of it and like it!

Come see me, and if you tell me you found out about it on this blog, I'll kiss you. CLICK HERE for a DISCOUNT, just for being a GROOVEMONKEY!

Friday, May 9, 8pm, Rio Theater, Santa Cruz CA
Stand-up comedy with Piraro, Johnny Steele, Will Durst, Richard Stockton
Ticketweb.com 866-468-3399, Streetlight Records 831-421-9200

Rock Star Proximity

If you would like to know what it is to feel extra groovy, go see an Old 97s concert. I became a fan of theirs years ago and they're one of my perennial favorites.

The lead singer and main songwriter is Rhett Miller (right, with goofy cartoonist), who also has a solo recording career and regularly does solo/acoustic concerts at small venues in NYC and elsewhere. At one such show a few years ago, a friend of mine who'd met Rhett before introduced us and it turned out Rhett had been a fan of Bizarro since college. Since then, we have been drastically in love with each other. Our wives don't mind.

CHNW and I saw Rhett doing a solo show last Saturday night in NYC at the Hiro Ballroom, and hung out with him and his gang after the show (his wife is from Ohio and a big group of Buckeye's were in town for a birthday celebration.) We had a dandy time, indeed.

In addition to partying with the rock star, we met the infamous Barber Brothers, three guys from Ohio. The craziest Barber by far, is the one they call "Dave," seen at left between me and CNHW. (Note: None of us is as gay as we look in the pic. Not that there's anything wrong with that.) It was, in fact, Dave who sent these photos of the festivities. Thanks, Dave!

If you like music that is fun to listen to and does not suck, I recommend checking out Old 97s older stuff, and their new album, too. Rhett played a few songs from the new album last Saturday and they were the exact opposite of terrible.

My secret hope is that they'll let me join them on stage someday to sing lead vocals on one of their old standards. I used to be the front man for a band in the 80s and still sing songs in my comedy shows. I still haven't lost it – in fact, I'm a better singer than even Rhett. Ask anyone.

Pee Wee, CHNW, 'n' Me

A few months ago, CHNW and I were at a fundraiser party thing in Los Angeles (note the dopey nametags) and came across Paul Reubens in the crowd. I enjoy seeing celebrities as much as anyone, but I don't usually hound them for autographs or photos. However, I'm a HUGE fan of Pee-wee Herman, so I had to get my picture taken with him. It was a big day for me and I rushed home and emailed the pic to my two adult daughters, who were green with envy.

This was also a big day for CHNW, who was not only a big fan of Reubens but grew up in Sarasota just as Paul had, though a couple of decades later. In her excitement (and CNHW can get very excited) she immediately mentioned that a girl she grew up with was the daughter of a good friend of Reubens at Sarasota High School. As the words escaped her mouth, we all remembered that Sarasota was also where he was arrested, and all in attendance were flooded with feelings of weirdness. I'm sure Paul is over it by now, but it remains for me a dark period in history, as one of the most brilliant comic characters in entertainment came to an end. Paul is still acting, of course, and doing a fine job. But I'd kill to hear that Pee-wee laugh again.

Meeting celebrities is often a double-edged sword. If the celeb isn't nice, it can ruin your perception of them forever, thus rendering certain movies, TV shows, music, etc. too irritating to enjoy. (That happened to me with Jimi Hendrix. I saw him once while hallucinating during a high fever and he was gratuitously unkind. I cannot listen to Purple Haze now without tearing up.) Paul Reubens was not rude, however. He was friendly and put up with our photos like a champ, but as soon as he walked away and I had a chance to look at the photo, I realized that Pee-wee Herman is taller and has more hair than I do.

Will these random challenges to my self-esteem never end?

Me and Bill Maher

As you can see from the picture, Bill Maher and I are close. Really close. Less than two feet away. If you're jealous, I don't blame you. Being BFF with Bill is a dream come true for so many Americans and I just feel so darned fortunate to be the one he chose. Can life get any better?

Maybe, but it could also get a lot worse. Like if Bill Maher saw this post and demanded I remove it because I lied about being his BFF. That would be worse.

So I'll come clean. My Crazy Half-Nekked Wife and I were at the annual Humane Society's Genesis Awards last weekend in Beverly Hills and sat next to Maher at our banquet table. It was just as exciting as you might imagine, but without the excitement.

We're big fans of his, but in a situation like this, in order to be cool you have to act like you're not. Even saying "big fan, Bill" seems kind of cheesy. Like something a Rush Limbaugh listener from Topeka would do if he met that pumpkin-headed, lying blowhard just before he raised his shirt up and asked him to sign his beer gut. So you try to make casual conversation and pretend to be interested in other people at the table, too. Our table was actually pretty cool, (thanks to Karen Dawn, author of the soon-to-be-published "Thanking the Monkey") so it was easy to do, but I didn't find a way to gracefully tell him I think his show is genius. And I didn't find a casual way to explain that I think his imput is essential to political awareness in America. And I wasn't able to mention that I'd let him spend the weekend with my Crazy Half-Nekked Wife if he'd invite me to be a guest on his show. And what a terrific guest I'd make, don't you agree?

I'm far above asking my friends and readers to write in to Real Time With Bill Maher (http://www.hbo.com/corpinfo/faq.shtml)and ask them to consider me as a guest, but if they did, boy, that would be a special thing that I would remember for as long as I could.

Lots of cool celebs are animal rights folks and many were in attendance that night, as they are every year. Among those I've met at Genesis Awards shows are Alicia Silverstone, Daryl Hannah, James Cromwell, Persia White("Girlfriends"), Debra Skelton (Debra Wilson of "Mad TV"), Loretta Swit, Alec Baldwin, Ed Asner, Ed Begley Jr., Elayne Boosler, Tippi Hedren, Rue McClanahan, Mary Tyler Moore, Ally Sheedy, Heather Mills, Linda Blair, Emil Deschanel ("Bones"), Steve Valentine ("Crossing Jordan"), Rory Freedman (author of "Skinny Bitch," good friend of mine and CHNWife, and total babe!), Kyle MacLachlan, Ben Stein, Nellie McKay, Carol Leifer, Hayden Panettiere ("Heroes") and some others I can't remember right now. It's a great party every year! Here's more info if you care: http://www.hsus.org/about_us/offices_and_affiliates/hsus_hollywood_office/the_genesis_awards/22nd-genesis-awards/


King of the after-party dancefloor busts a move with Rory Freedman. (I told you she's a babe!)

Where was Crazy Half-Nekked Wife while I was booty shaking with Rory? Dirty dancing with Bob Zmuda, of Andy Kaufman fame. Not all vegans are buzzkills, my peeps.

Phony Wedding, Real Marriage

I’ve been away from the blogometer for quite a while and for good reason. The Crazy Half-Nekked Wife and I journeyed across the continent of our birth to the West Coast where comedy, chaos and cocktails ensued.

First stop, San Francisco. My comedy shows at the Purple Onion were both sellouts -–ticket-wise, not content-wise– and Johnny Steele was brilliant. Only an idiot would follow that guy on stage but I was up to the task.

Did another show the next night at a vegan medical conference up in Santa Rosa and met some terrific folks. It’s always fun to chat with people who don’t have shreds of dead animal carcasses dangling from their teeth. (insert smiley face with wink here)

I also signed books at WonderCon, a comics convention in SF that same weekend. Here is a shot of me with Stormtrooper Elvis, a foreshadowing of things to come later in this blog. Just like a Bergman film.



After such a far out weekend of grooviness, we unwound by hiking in Marin County with a group of friends and followed it with some hot tubbing and a massage. Go here for a short video of our friend Anne and me enjoying our hike.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f4OEm5k7Om4

It was an extremely pleasurable day with the exception of the hot tub. Anne's boyfriend, Nemo, for reasons yet to be determined by local law enforcement officals, assaulted our eyes with a tiny, black, shiny strip of fabric stretched across his reproductive organ. He called it a bathing suit. We called it the recurring centerpiece of future nightmares.

While in SF, we also went to the studio of my good friend and eminent Rock & Roll photographer, Pat Johnson, for some new publicity shots. He’s the coolest daddio who ever stroked a goatee and we always have fun at his place. Here’s one of the shots he took. In my mind, I’m BB King.



From SF, we flew like naked apes strapped inside a metal tube to Las Vegas for a reenactment of our wedding of six years ago, when I surprised Ashley and a few of her family members with a wedding by an Elvis impersonator. (Yes, I am a classy dude.) Since so few friends or family were at the original shindig, we decided to throw the whole dang thing again. Here’s the pic the chapel provides for only a huge amount of money. Incidentally, there is something funky about the color here. In real life, Ashley's hair is approximately 100% less red than this.



Simultaneously hysterical and touching, the wedding etched its image in the minds of all in attendance for who knows how long. At least until they got wasted at the after party.

Vegas is one of those places that you can’t believe exists outside of the Old Testament, just moments before God obliterates it with a flaming tower of vengeance. But that’s not why I like it. Even though I don’t gamble, it’s one of the last places on earth where you can walk around with a cocktail in your hand and smoke cigars indoors. It’s the little things in life that make me smile.

Here is a shot of me and my good friend, Lance hanging out in a casino. He’s a porn star or something, I think.



Here is a shot of my wife, Ashley, and her bevy of hot babe friends. I'm never too busy for a trip to the beach with her and her gal pals.



I hope you enjoyed this tour of my memory of the last two weeks. Another installment in a week or so.
Smooches.

Refugees Unite!

Badly designed, impossible to navigate, ugly, loud, depressing, reeking of death. How did this beast that is eating the fabric of our civilization and puking it up on the shoes of our future achieve such popularity? I might be talking about the Bush War, but in this case I'm referring to MySpace.

I had a blog on MySpace for a while and it made my colon throb. And not in a good way. So, at the helpful advice of many of you, my readers, I abandoned it like the religion I was raised in and moved over to Blogger. I pray to the multitude of gods I no longer believe in (proud atheist) that it treats me – and you – well.

The groovy photo below is of me the night I met Dennis Kucinich and his wife, Elizabeth. I am a fan of his philosophies and politics and was thrilled to discover he has been a fan of my cartoons. (We're both ethical vegans) He's very charming and affable and I gave him one of my new books. I always pull a wagon full of books behind me in case I meet someone I admire.

More in a week or so. Hope you like the new blog and please tell your friends, family, and enemies all about it!
Smooches,
Dan