Comedian Sean Sullivan

Back.

2011-10-12T08:38:00.000-07:00

What the hell happened? The last time I updated this was in 2007. Seriously. What happened? I just tried to sign up for a WordPress page. What is that? I have no idea. I got an email from them and signed up and now it exists but I don't know how to use it. I swear I didn't just wake up from a five year nap. At some point, technology and social media got together and fucked and made a baby that just punched me in the dick as it ran by me.

Seriously. I also signed up for a Tumblr page. I have even less of an idea of what a Tumblr page is than I do a WordPress page. Am I the oldest 28 year old person on the planet? I have no idea what to do with a Tumblr page but I have one. I don't know where it is or what it's called but I signed up and it exists somewhere.

I signed up for Blogspot in 2004 when I was young and spry and because it looked slightly more sophisticated and sounded less effeminate than a LiveJournal. Remember them? That's the speed I run at. LiveJournal speed. Write your little entry and then put a little smiley face or a frowny face depending on whether you feel smiley and frowny.

I've already given up on my blog's resurrection before I've even finished writing. I believe that's what the kids call "Fail." Am I pronouncing that right? "Fail."

I have a Twitter account but I don't use it very often. Sometimes I do but it tends to drain the battery in my phone. Blogger asked me if I'd like to learn how to Blog from my phone? No. I certainly would not. "But you could take pictures of things and post them and then write about the pictures?" I could but I will not.

Goodbye for eight more years...

April 28th

2007-04-17T15:31:00.000-07:00

My girlfriend loves/hates Cat Power

2007-03-10T13:57:00.001-08:00

Sometimes I worry that all I'll ever write about is music and concert reviews and open letters to members of the Wu-Tang Clan. Surely, I can find something else to write about? Eh... it's just safer this way. I could probably write about comedy and stuff but then I run the risk of a) burning bridges and b) turning into ericcheung. But I think about music because truly that's all I have to let people know how cool I am. If my iPod doesn't have the newest, hippest, most elite bands on it, then what do I have to identify myself with? If I don't think non-stop about trying to listen to cool music, I'll never be able to be have as hip as say a Max Silvestri or a guy that is comparable to Max Silvestri. (How's that blog? Two comic bridges burned in one opening paragraph. Suck it, Max.)

In the last week, I've made my girlfriend to Mix cds of music I think is the bee's shit. I did it mostly because I'm eternally 15, partly because I like to condescend, and slighty because I have hopes that I won't have to go to concerts forever holding hands with Steve Wilkinson.

I give her the cds. She digests them for a week and then I quiz her on what she likes and dislikes. It's a fun game filled with unexpected surprises and expected unsurprises. So far, I'm two for two with Bloc Party ("Modern Love" and "I Still Remember") and two for three with Sufjan Stevens ("Something slow that I has a million words in it's title," "the song from seven swans that was on the oc soundtrack, and "chicago." Metric has hit twice and Feist, Broken Social Scene, Belle and Sebastian, Neutral Milk Hotel, and Cat Power have all gotten on base without striking out.

Cat Power. The reason we are here. The second song on the first disc is "He War." A song so great I had diddly guitar part stuck in my head at work and I could not figure out what the fuck it was to the point where I contemplated taking my own life (mostly because I was at work, partly because I was really frustrated, and slightly because sometimes sean sad.).

I played it in her car and she was singing a long. I said, "Wow. You like Cat Power. Cool." At which point, she turned the song off and said, "Cat Power? Really? I hate it now."
ME "But you were just singing it?"
HER "Yeah but Cat Power is a stupid name. I won't listen to anything with a name that stupid."
ME "But you like it!"
HER "Not anymore. That name stinks."
ME "What's wrong with the name?"
HER "I just imagine little mangy dirty cats with fur covered in shit and cat litter wearing capes."

My girlfriend shut out Cat Power because the stage name of the artist made her think of dirty, shit-covered, super-hero cats. This is why I keep her around. Also, it's the reason I will continue to go to concerts with Steve.

NEW BRIGHT EYES REVIEW IN MAY!!!

Regrettable Decisions: Concerts Edition Part I

2007-03-05T19:56:00.000-08:00

I have made some mistakes in my life. Most of the mistakes have strangely worked out in my favor to the point where I guess you couldn't really call them mistakes anymore. Apparently, I haven't made any mistakes in my life. But there have been moments that I regretted and generally, these moments occur when I am at a concert and usually the regret goes something like, "Wow, I really regret coming to this concert." I'm not at the concert by mistake. I went of my own volition. If it had been a mistake, I would have been like, "Hey. I wasn't supposed to be at this concert. What the hell?" If it were a mistake, I could have very quickly corrected that mistake by leaving the concert. But a regrettable decision is different. There have been a number of concerts and moments at concerts that I regret having made a regrettable decision. Over the next week or so, I'm gonna share some of these regrettable concert decisions because frankly, they are the most relatable stories that I can share. There are others but it's is going to a lot easier to understand these then to tell you why I regretted going to see my little brother's high school's production of Godspell because I'd just be boring you because who gives a fuck about Godspell? God certainly doesn't. And besides, hearing about how I saw Fall Out Boy open for two different ska bands on two different occaisons is going to allow you to respect me a lot less then my eloquently worded treatise on stupid fucking Godspell.

Spring Concert UMass 2002 (Guster, The Roots, Ludacris)

Every year, UMass puts on a big concert with a ridiculously unbalanced lineup of the strangest mix of bands and musicians conceivable. My sophomore year it was Reel Big Fish and 50 Cent but I left after Reel Big Fish (cause RBF is the shit) so there isn't a fun story there. My freshman year, however, I stayed the whole time and man, oh, man was it worth it.

First off, there is nothing funny about Guster because Guster is Guster. Guster is the kind of music I wouldn't be mad that my girlfriend listened to (she doesn't) but I wouldn't be proud either. When I find out people like Guster, I go, "Eh." I don't think you can hate Guster because I don't think anybody can really care that passionately about them. Guster evokes almost absolutely nothing in me, positive or negative. It's like a band of three John Mayers but none of them are funny. Guster just is and it's existence doesn't really bother me. Though the guy drumming with his hands is kind of annoying in a he-could-kick-the-shit-out-of-me-without-even-kicking-me way.

There is also nothing funny about the Roots but for the exact opposite reason of Guster. The Roots are amazing. That's it.

Now, the headliner on the other hand was a man named Ludacris. Remember, this isn't the Ludacris from Crash. This is the Ludacris from move-bitch-get-out-the-way-get-out-the-way-bitch-get-out-the way. Ludacris is a man, two hypeman, and a dj an HE STILL TOOK A FUCKING HOUR TO SET UP! Unbelievable. The Roots played for an hour and a half. Ludacris played for about 20 mins once he got going. But the best part of this story is that Ludacris does a lot of between song banter that is mind-boggling poetic. First, he made all his "dawgs" bark. Fine. "dawgs" gotta bark. Then he asked where the fellas were at and we all barked again. And then he asked for the ladies. He said, "All ya'll ladies, if your pussy's clean, scream."

I wish I had a decibel meter for the Mullins Center that day because when he said that, the room went insane. INSANE. I thought for a second that it was 1969, 1985, and 1999 all at the same time and that the Beatles, Michael Jackson, and NSync had stepped out onstage at the same time. And this was a concert at ZOOMASS! Party school #1!!!!

All of these girls had clean genitals? Really? I kept looking around for the one honest girl who was gazing at her shoes, kicking the ground, CharlieBrown style but she wasn't there. It's an amazing testament to the safe sex education going on in the dorms at UMass Amherst that there was not one female not screaming. Though to fair, I bet if Ludacris yelled "All ya'll fellas, if your dick's got cheese, scream!", you would have been able to hear a pin drop.

College. It ain't honest.

Brand Spankin New BRIGHT EYES review!!!

2007-03-03T06:38:00.000-08:00

Easily my most popular blog entry report essay ever was my open letter to Ghostface Killah.

But perhaps my second favorite post was my review of the very first time I saw Bright Eyes aka Connor Oberst aka Bright Eyes. I remember it like it was yesterday (I have a very poor memory and often time-travel.) Sitting in a pew in Harvard surrounded by crazies that made me want to punch, I watched as Bright Eyes and his band, the Brighter Eyes, played I'm Wide Awake It's Mourning pretty much in it's entirety and it was good. But that was two years ago and in that time, Sister Bright Eyes has come back around a couple of times and each time I don't go. Why? Cause fuck you, that's why. I do what I goddamned well please.

But a couple of weeks ago, I heard that Bright Eyes was packing up his shit and hitting the road (which couldn't be that hard as I suspect he lives in his car because he is bohemian as fuck.) I went to the only person I know gayer than myself (STEVE MFING WILKINSON!!!) and said,

SEAN
We cannot miss this show.

STEVE
But we've missed him the two or three times he's come back since

SEAN
(slapping Steve)
Shut up.

So I ordered tickets and they mailed me the tickets. But what ho? My older brother, PFunk, got free tickets for being a poster hanger upper or something and guess what? Those tickets were way better. So fuck you, tickets I bought. We're going with the free tickets. But.... PFunk's tickets come at a cost. That cost? My soul or $30. Either way, he needs to be paid in full the next time I see him or slap. Ouch. So me and Steve pile into my mom's trusty 2006 KIA mini-van (which for the record is a hell of a lot gayer than going to see Bright Eyes but we'll get to that once we sell these tickets.) So we sell the two tickets.

Let me pause for a second. Going to see Bright Eyes is not gay. I don't even know what that means. First of all, I'm led to believe that gay people have much better taste and probably wouldn't go see Bright Eyes. Secondly, I did not go into the concert and all of the sudden was "gimme a guy cause I'm gay." Going to see Bright Eyes is not gay. Being as excited as I was to see Bright Eyes is a little bit gay but I'm fine with that because as i've said before i'm 49.9 percent gay (that covers the part about loving musical theater and getting into long winded discussions about how Liza Minelli was the absolute worst possible casting decision for the film adaptation of Cabaret, not because she is terrifying and big-headed but because she's an American and an American Sally Bowles complete destroys the political alleghory of the piece but i digress.) So to my girlfriend Kassandra, Tom Dustin, Chris Walsh, June Politano, this chick I work with who heard Tom Dustin call me gay on the phone, Renata Tutko, Ken Reid, Brandon Hagan, seangeorge, and my own self-loathing, I say "quit pickin on me. aw jeez."

We walked into the Somerville Theater (which is awesome) and sat in our seats (which were awesome) and waited. And then waited some more. I got so bored waiting that I went and got some popcorn and an ice tea. As I was sitting back down, I poured most of the popcorn into Steve's lap and poured most of the ice tea down my throat. Around who-knows-what-time, MWard came out. I was not a huge fan of MWard before the show. I heard Post-War and thought it was ok. I'm not one for overly reverby vocals that sound like they're being recorded in a well but I am incredibly pretentious so I when I heard he was opening, I was glad because it meant that somewhere down the road, I could potentially be pretentiously condescending to someone and that's a good feeling.

But holy fuck, he was amazing. MWard? More MWarding-off-bad-times-by-being-such-an-awesome-one-man-band-machine. Sweet fuck. The guy can play and apparently, he sings all echo-y so it wasn't just studio effects (you like how I did that? dropped in "studio effects" like I know what I'm talking about). My only complaint. The man's hands are freakishly limber. He plays acoustic guitar and sounds like there is a full band on stage. But it's because he's either triple jointed in his fingers or something because his fingerpicks and his hand was moving in ways that suggested he had shattered all the bones in his hand with a hammer in order to be able slap them around so much. Next time you see me, ask me for a demonstration.

So MWard plays only like 25 mins and then he's done. And then we wait. Which is insane because MWard played his own guitar for 25 mins without touching anything else on the stage. All of Bright Eyes and the Bright Eyes Seven's shit was untouched and was perfectly laid out from the minute we got there. Why did we have to wait 30 mins for Bright Eyes then? Why? There was a chick sitting in the row behind us who started doing her homework. Seriously. She kept asking me what the square root of pi was and I peed my pants cause that's how I roll when birds (n: dames, skirts, or broads) start talking.

Me and Steve decided to use the bathroom and check out the merch table. What the fuck happened to you, Bright Eyes? When did you become such a corporate whore? 10 bucks for a 5 song ep? Suck a dick, Bright Eyes. No way. I'll buy your EP at Best Buy on Tuesday (where I'll also buy the new Arcade Fire. Boner.) It used to be about the melodramatic emoting and now, it's all about the money, huh? You know why they call you Bright Eyes, Bright Eyes, because your eyes are so bright from reflecting all of the money that you are stealing from all your bright-eyed disicples. Unbelievable.

But anyway, we went back to sit down and holy balls, the lights went out and the show started and WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT'S THE GUY FROM AFI DOING SINGING LEAD FOR BRIGHT EYES!?!? seriously. If I could figure out how to find pictures of both Davey Havok from AFI and Bright Eyes from Bright Eyes, I would post them so you can compare them. Bananas.

The show was good. For the first time in a long while, nobody was so annoying that I wanted to strangle them which was nice for a change (I've been going to a bunch of shows with Steve and it never fails that somebody standing around us does something so ridiculous that my enjoyment of the show is put on hold because I go silently mental about how insane what I'm seeing is. It's a curse.)

Bright Eyes is the kind of cat that plays songs that aren't yet available which is good but come on, man, play some of the hits. All I ask for is one or two of your fucking standout tracks. How bout "Bowl of Oranges" or "From A Balance Beam" or "The Calendar Hung Itself" or the song about how your imaginary brother imaginarily drowned in a bathtub before you ever learned his name and that's the imaginary reason you came up with for why you drink so much? At the very least play "When The President Talks to God Part Two: THE RESPONSE!"

Bright Eyes closed with "Laura Laurent" which me and Steve questioned at first but then stopped questioning once Bright Eyes started his nervous breakdown and jumped into the crowd (for the record, I don't think he was really breaking down but that's cause I have a degree in theater and apparently gay).

On the way out, we followed a kid into the lobby and this is what he said in an exacerbated or more appropriate word, short of breath fashion: "Oh my God, I can't believe it. HE WAS SO GOOD! It was an honor to have him come out in the crowd and be right near me. I wanted to cry with Connor!"

Best heckle of the night in responce to a "I love you Connor": "Who's Connor?" shouted by someone who was not me but must be a fan of mine.

The show ended. Me and Steve, satisfied, climbed into the mini-van and drove to Hilarium where we drank PBR and I almost broke Joe List's neck from moshing to the Walsh Bros/Grown Up Noise.

All in all, not a bad time.

Borat in Sweeny Todd? Color me erected...

2006-10-16T15:55:00.000-07:00

I just read this article.

http://productionweekly.com/2006/10/12/cohen-may-join-depp-in-burtons-sweeney-todd/

So sweet. So sweet that I decided to post about it on a blog that no one reads nor cares about.

Hooray.

Also, TV on the Radio is awesome live. So awesome. Almost as awesome as Borat in Sweeny Todd.

Sean's Plant World

2006-10-01T10:43:00.000-07:00

I recently opened a plant world in Raynham called "Sean's Plant World."
I also recently filmed a commercial for my new plant world.
It airs exclusively during the Phantom Gourmet but I'm putting it on the internet. For the kids. It's arguably the greatest commercial ever made.

Snakes on a Plane

2006-08-20T11:10:00.000-07:00

Last night, I saw Snakes on a Plane. Generally, I freak out if people talk during movies, laugh loudly during movies, eat during movies. I like my movies like I like my libraries... silent. But last night, I broke the cardinal rule of moviegoing because Snakes on a Plane is retarded. If you were going to this movie so that you could sit quietly while you reflected upon a post 9/11 world, I'm sorry. Last night, I yelled a lot of things at the movie and got some laughs. I also yelled some stuff that fell flat on it's face. So I decided I'd throw a little guide together to help you better disrupt the film Snakes on a Plane.

A Step By Step Guide On How To Yell Things Out During The Film

1. Eat your dick at the Vault because the Vault sucks and there is a lot of dick-eating that goes on in the place.

2. Gather up a group of a dozen or so of the top comics in Boston and be convinced that going to see Snakes on a Plane with said comedians is a better idea that going home and sleeping.

2a. don't go up to the box office and say i want to see the one about the plane. you know what i'm talking about because you will end up sitting through world trade center and you can't really yell anything out like "watch out" during that one.

3. Start early. You gotta test the waters. Start yelling stuff during the commercials that play before the trailers and then yell stuff during the trailers before the movie. This way you know if people start yelling "Shut the fuck up" or "I'm gonna kick your ass if you keep yelling," then it's time to not yell stuff. If nobody says anything or tells the theater staff, you're pretty golden.

4. Start a loud round of applause during the title sequence.

5. Now, here's the most important part. Snakes on a Plane is one of the most unintentionally funny movies ever. Whatever joke you have is not going to get a bigger laugh then a snake biting a guy in the crouch. Pace yourselves. Only spit gold.

6. There is a very hairy, ugly baby in the movie. Yelling "Snake eat that baby" once is funny. I learned the hard way that it just gets creepy when you yell fifteen times. Such is life.

7. after THE line (you know which line... it's got two motherfuckers, snakes, and a plane in it), don't yell "Let's Roll." It's still too soon.

8. Yell more stuff.

9. When the movie is finished, stand in front of the theater in a giant circle, and block any foot traffic. Then when some decides to take a picture, get in a human pyramid.

Dear Ghostface Killah

2006-06-18T10:59:00.000-07:00

Hello, Mr. Killah. My name is Sean Sullivan. On May 31st at approx 8:13pm, I sent you a friendship request on the popular online social networking website, MySpace. As of right now (June 18th approx 1:57pm), I see that my friendship request has still not been accepted. What's up, Ghostface? Am I that terrible of a person to have as a friend? Are you worried that you'll lose some street cred if someone is searching through your network of friends and sees a fat white guy in a superhero costume standing in front of the Boston skyline? Does this have something to do with the New York/Boston rivalry? I know it is not because you dislike superheroes. In fact, I know that you probably like superheroes as you often refer to yourself as Tony Starks, which as we all know is the alterego for the Marvel Comics superhero, Ironman. Do you know how I know this, GFK? It is because I am very big fan of your music. I'll admit that I am certainly one of your newer fans, having first heard you on the DangerDoom album and sure, I bought your latest album Fishscale on a whim because it was only $8.99 at Newbury Comics but it is incredible. It will most certainly be in the top five of end-of-the-year-lists-of-things-that-i-like. I was so impressed that I've backtracked and bought Supreme Clientele and the Pretty Toney Album (both great btw). So what's up? Do you want to maybe have a trial run at a friendship before we solidify it in front of the online community. What are you doing tonight? I'm probably just going to rent some videos. You could come over and watch them with me if you want. I'll make popcorn. Have you ever seen the Princess Bride? I heard they just put out a new special edition of it on Dvd and since I don't think I've seen it all the way through before, I figured maybe we could watch it together. What do you say, Ghostface? Is that something you would like to do? We don't have to watch that movie. I have the third season of NewsRadio as well (though I like to watch those while I do the elliptical machine but I guess I could make an exception for you). Maybe we don't even have to watch videos. Contrary to the things I say in my stand-up act, I have been playing some really good mini-golf lately. It's an activity that I don't really enjoy in theory but that I kind of like in practise. There's an old timey looking mini-golf course over Holbrook that me and my girlfriend have been thinking about trying. It's not one of those Rock Cave Waterfall mini-golf courses that have become so commonplace. It's a throwback. Just like some of your music. Anyway, we could just get coffee (I don't drink coffee but I do like Chai) or we could just do some coke or something. Whatever. No biggie. I look forward to hearing back from you soon, Ghostface Killah.

You friend,
Sean

A rebuttle?

2006-05-12T14:48:00.000-07:00

We here at www.sean-sullivan.com like to give all sides a voice. Matt Traub mistakenly thinks that this website is a living breathing organism and therefore shouted his responces over AIM. Addison22 is his AIM name. He's never on because he's busy... selling CPR dummies to high schools that already have them. Matt Traub, you are Willy Loman and like Willy Loman, we can only hope that someday you will kill yourself. Stay true, peaches.

Addison22: Sean Sullivan - Your a fat miserable fuck and if I thought your health would allow you to live past the age of 25 I would actually put some effort into rebuttle.

Sean George - Your from Martha's Vinyard...Shut the fuck up.

Salamone - Is it true your over circumsized...All head and no shaft?

Rogers - You can catch "Fat"...stay away from the Seans.

Punch - Thats actually funny.

Sean Cote - The skinny gay one of the 3 "Seans"...This kid never had a chance...like everyone else I know from NH.

Jess - You have the best tits on this list and beleive me theres alot of competition (Sean 1 & 2).

Sam - Your sister wants me...

Ken - Right back at you.

Andrea - I got those crabs from you babe...

Fuck you all...!

The Reviews Are In!!!

2006-05-10T17:08:00.000-07:00

"Your website might be the worst fucking website on the whole fucking internet!"

Matt Traub, esq.

I just want to thank Mr Traub for his kind words. This really is an honor. Wow. I don't really know what to say. I guess I really just want to thank Matt Traub. Man, this is... I'm tearing up writing this. He really is the best. Matt Traub... this post is for you.

Oh. You don't know who Matt Traub is? Well, let me share some stories.

First and foremost, Matt Traub is my friend. I don't care what he says. We're just friends.

Nothing more. If he tries to tell you we're something more, he's lying. It's just platonic. We met in college, specifically the University of Massachusetts. We took a class together called Theater 160. This was a class that was designed to give you an overview of all aspects of the technical side of theater. There was a basic costume design part, a basic lighting part, a basic stagecraft part, and a basic drafting part. The class also served to give an overview of how much Matt Traub shouldn't have majored in theater.

If ever there were a person less suited for a degree in theater, I've yet to meet him. Matt would have been a great banker or Gucchi sunglass designer. Really. He'd be tremendous. Certainly more effective than he is as a pulmonary respirator salesman. If you've ever watched that show Entourage, Matt Traub is like a combination of all those characters without the talent, charisma, personality, or good looks.

Matt was recently on MySpace. He had four friends including Tom, SeanGeorge, and myself. He told me that he took himself off of MySpace and that he was going to come back in like a month and blow up. It's Machiavelli's Seven Day thing that people thought Tupac was doing back when people thought Tupac faked his own death.
The only difference is that Tupac actually died and nobody cares about Matt Traub. Believe me, Matt, if this website is any indication, if you disappear for a month and then all of a sudden reemerge, nobody cares.

Matt lives in Andover now, where he most likely spend the rest of his miserable life. Sure, he makes much more money than me selling CPR dummies to nursing homes and yeah, sure, he's a jew and he lives in a converted church (grrrrr... heathen) and so what if he drives a company car and smells like roses (he was a queer eyed straight guy long before the show). I've got one thing that he doesn't have... (psst... it's the Gift of Dance), that's right, the Gift of Dance.

So, Matt Traub, I thank you for your review of my website. And to return the favor, here are some more reviews (this time, they're of you.)

"You suck" - Me
"Why would review that piece of shit?" - SeanGeorge
"Two and a half stars out of five" - Michael Salamone
"I don't want to say pedophile but that's the first thing that comes to mind" - Mark Rogers
"The Jewish Bill Growney" - Brian Punch
"I'm dead." - Gene Siskel
"Matt Traub's greatest ability is finding the gayest clothes in the Salvation Army dumpster as possible" - Sean Cote
"Adorable, bite-sized Jew" - Jess Burday
" okadally dokadally. this kid is soo cool he drops off myspaces. cool matt. he's says wait til he comes back. like a hurricane. im not sure if he was quoting the band scorpions but i think hes just an idiot. if you thought hurricane katrina was bad you havent seen matt "the hurricane" traub." - Matt Traub's friend, Sam
"broadshouldered and pure of heart" - Ken Reid
"Matt Traub has crabs" - Andrea Henry

Feel free to leave more reviews of Matt Traub in the comments and I'll be sure to add them to the main page.

A post? Impossible.

2006-05-09T15:43:00.000-07:00

I saw Mission: Impossible III with my friend, Steve. I asked him if he wanted to go because earlier in the day, we had gotten into a heated discussion about Scientology on AOL (R) Instant Messanger (TM) software. He thought that Scientology was the most fucked thing ever because Scientologists believe some pretty crazy stuff and I thought that Scientology was the most fucking awesome thing ever because it is!!! (I recently converted. It's pretty fun. Best part? No Catholic guilt. If anybody wants to talk about it sometime, I'd be more than happy to*)

*for a nominal fee

I read an article in Rolling Stone about Scientology one day while I was working at the RMV. My boss kept telling me to put the magazine down and get back to work and I kept telling him that if he didn't leave me alone, I'd have Xenu throw him in a volcano. I couldn't ever actually convert to Scientology because it's incredibly expensive. Like really expensive. I think money really does make some people go insane and I'm glad that crazy, rich people have Scientology to throw their money at because if it wasn't there, Tom Cruise would be a James Bond Villian. Like if he didn't have to spend so much time trying to defend his crazy religion, he'd probably be building lazers to blow up the moon. And he could do it. The newest EW (that's Entertainment Weekly for you gays not in the biz... I'm not in the biz) says on the cover that he made $100,000,000 for War of the Worlds. That doesn't even make sense. I might have read the article inside and they might have said that when they tried to calculate why he made that much money on that movie, that their calculators might have exploded. $100,000,000 is some James Bond villian type stuff.

Which brings us back to MI:3 where Tom Cruise doesn't play a James Bond villain but instead a poor excuse for James Bond. For what it was, there was a lot of blowing stuff up and a lot of P.S. Hoffman being bad ass. Also, there was a whole lot of suspension of disbelief because as we all know Tom Cruise is batshit crazy and if he were to infiltrate the Vatican like he does in the movie, he wouldn't be arresting terrorists. He'd be killing popes!!! Because Scientologists believe that Christianity is a false idea planted by some word that Steve looked up on the Wikipedia that essentially means Anti-Scientologists. Anti-Scientologists have planted all these crazy ideas that serve to counteract the work of Xenu or whatever. These ideas include all major religions, stuff like all scientific facts, evolution, babies. It's fucked. You know who else are Anti-Scientologists? Oh I don't know. Everyone who's not a scientologist.

On a whole though, Tommy C seems to be able to seperate work and crazy and not plant Scientology propaganda in his big budget blow-em-ups. Which is great but I still think they let a few slide. Like when PS Hoffman has Tom Cruise tied up in a chair and PS tortures Cruise-o's wife and Cruise is like "You madman! You need auditing!" or like when he's sliding down some Chinese building made out of angled glass and he's shooting armed guards and shouting "Jesus can suck one of Xenu's 8 dicks."

Maybe those scenes weren't in the movie. But it wouldn't have been funny.

I should probably proofread this stuff and make sure it's funny before I post it. I really am pretty terrible. Top that, Silvestri. Kaplan, you don't have to top anything. Steve, how accurate was this? Anyone else who accidentally reads this, I apologize.

Welcome Herald Readers

2006-03-31T05:36:00.000-08:00

Welcome Herald Readers (all three)

This is a place where I rarely write things.
Here is a link to the article you might have read.

http://theedge.bostonherald.com/theedge.bg

Here's a video of me in action. Check it out.

Anger Management

2006-03-03T19:45:00.000-08:00

I made it into the Comedy Notes of the Boston Globe today. Here reprinted is what was said. Click here and here and here and here and scroll down for validation.

Thanks to Nick Zaino for giving me the space.

Anger management

Sean Sullivan can pitch a fit with the precision of a major-league reliever. Sometimes the 22-year-old is a bathroom attendant at a Walsh Brothers performance, stopping the show because someone stole the plate of mints he kept by the sink. Other times, he's an audience plant berating host Dan Sally Thursday nights at the Comedy Studio. Most often, he is earning his nickname ''Napalm" by using his hefty six-foot-plus frame and powerful lungs to elicit uncomfortable laughter.

As a regular on Sally's show, he is sometimes asked to lose his cool at a moment's notice. ''[Sally will] take me aside and go, 'In this next break I just want you to lose your mind and throw a chair.' "

Offstage, Sullivan is more of a gentle Hagrid than an Incredible Hulk. And while his anger is a great comic asset, Sullivan doesn't want his comedy pinned to rage. His new project, ''The Pretty Good Show," is a more mild-mannered affair. ''This is sort of my attempt to, not soften my reputation," he says, ''but to do something completely different that I haven't had the opportunity to do yet."

Starting this week, the first Tuesday of every month Sullivan will use his experience interning at ''Late Night With Conan O'Brien" last year to create his own live talk show, featuring local comedians, musical guests, sketch comedy, and even a warm-up act. The atmosphere will be more relaxed and spontaneous, and Sullivan hopes to gain some insight from guests like veterans Tim McIntire and Rich Gustus.

''I thought I could easily manipulate people who I wouldn't necessarily have the chance to sit down and talk shop with into entertaining me with their stories and perspectives on comedy," he says.

Sullivan has been a familiar face around the Cambridge scene for more than three years, but studying theater at UMass-Amherst made it hard for him to build a reputation. ''I'd be there for like, three months, people would start to recognize my face, and then I'd disappear for nine months," he says. ''Then I'd come back and have to start over."

Sullivan graduated last May, and is looking forward to a year-round comedy career. ''We have a nice little scene, especially over in Cambridge, where sketch is more . . . encouraged," he says.

It's a credit to Zaino that it came out so nice because I am an inarticulate, rambling moron.

The I Doctor

2006-01-26T06:52:00.000-08:00

Today, I went to the eye doctor because I've felt my vision has been getting worse when driving at night and I drive at night all the time. Apparently, my prescription hasn't changed at all. The doctor said, "When you're driving at night, try blinking more."

Blinking more?

I paid $15 to have somebody tell me to blink more? I think there should be a law or something passed where if a patient comes in thinking that there is something wrong with them, a doctor should be obligated to lie and tell them. Don't tell me my prescription hasn't changed. Tell me it's changed a lot and that I need to get new glasses immediately. I'll get the new glasses. I'll get three new glasses. The reason the economy in this country is in trouble (and I'm not even sure if it is because I know next to nothing about economics but for the sake of arguement let's say that the economy is in trouble) is because doctor's are too honest with their patients.

So sorry, Lenscrafters, looks like you won't be getting any of my money this year because Dr. Peppercorns says that I don't need new glasses. I hope you'll be able to make it through the winter this year, Lenscrafters. Bundle up cause it's just gonna get colder, you homeless eyeglass store thing.

Describing Dinosaurs to Blind People

2006-01-21T10:34:00.000-08:00

Aw, dude... dinos or dinosaurs for long, ruled the earth like a wicked long time ago. Before Jesus, who was this guy that was like the son of God, who's this thing that made everything. Even you, my blind friend. Umm... anyway. Dinosaurs are like lizards. I think. Yeah. Lizards but bigger. Unless you believe what they say in Jurassic Park and you think dinosaurs are actually more like chickens and birds, which are... well that's besides the point. You remember Jurassic Park? 'Member we saw it in 6th grade? Well... I saw it and you... Jeez... Um.. anyway they were like huge and ah scary. Really scary. Well only some of them were scary. Kinda like people. Some kinds of people are scary and other kinds of people are nice. Crap. I'm not talking about skin color. Not that you know what that is. Fuck. This is hard all right. It's not easy to describe dinosaurs to a person like you. Shit. I've never even seen a dinosaur.

Hunh. I've never seen a dinosaur and you've never seen a dinosaur. I guess we're more alike than we once thought, eh?

Oh well. I gotta go watch more reruns of the second season Laguna Beach. I hope one of the bitchy chicks does something slutty. You can just let yourself out.

The Last Blog Post of the Year

2005-12-31T09:33:00.000-08:00

This will be my last post of the year. I know there have been too many posts for you guys to keep up wit on a regular basis, right, Myq? But I thought I'd do what I did at the end of last year and post a big list of shit that I liked cause that's what you do when you have a blog, am I right, Silvestri? So with out further ado, Steve, I present a big long list of shit that I liked in 2005...

Top Five Shows On MTv That I Openly and Vocally Love and Will Continue to Right About on this Page well into the New Year
1. Made
2. My Super Sweet Sixteen
3. LB
4. Next
5. True Life: The one with the guy that was tatooing himself green so he could be a lizard and get married

Top Five Books that Were Assigned in My Honors "The Ghosts That Haunt Us" Class but that I never read
1. The Lovely Bones
2. Monkeybridge
3. Something by some Russian lady named Chernin
4. The Book that inspired the movie Field of Dreams
5. Slaughterhouse Five (only because I had read three times before)

Top Five People I Yelled At Through a Microphone while "Performing" my Particular Brand of Stand-Up Comedy
1. Truby at the Comedy Studio
2. Those Sluts in the Naughty Costumes at the Green Dragon on Halloween
3. Jon Malcovich at the Emerald Isle
4. That spiky-haired high school kid also at the Emerald Isle
5. The 15 year old kid with his fly open at Roadsteamer's DVD Taping

Top Five Kelly Clarkson Songs of All Time (in order)
1. Miss Independent
2. Since U Been Gone
3. Breakaway
4. Behind These Hazel Eyes
5. Every other song by Kelly Clarkson

Top Three Children's Movies That I Saw in the Theaters While Unaccompanied by a Child
1. Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit
2. Chicken Little
3. Rent

Top Five Television Show Seasons Watched On DVD for the First Time in 2005
1. Lost Season One
2. Arrested Development Season 2
3. The League of Gentlemen Season 1
4. Curb Your Enthusiasm Season 3
5. Newsradio Seasons 1 and 2 (not the first but I'm gonna count it cause it's the greatest traditional sitcom ever. EVER.)

Top Five Secret Santa Gifts That I Got At Work
1. Best of Triumph the Insult Comic Dog
2. A Can of Silly String that has since frozen in my car
3. Fake Mustaches
4. These little Marvel Superhero Things called Beanz that I'm still not really sure what to do with
5. Dunkin Donuts Gift Card ($5 denomination)

Top One Gift that I as Secret Santa Gave
1. Whoopie Cooshin (sp?)

Greatest Gift Received This Year
1. An iPod from myself
2. An alarm clock thing to play the iPod on from the ladyfriend

Top Five Lists on This List So Far
1. The One about the MTv shows that I love
2. The One about the Books I didn't read
3. The One about the Children's Movies I saw
4. The One about the people I yelled at
5. This One

Top Five Comedy CDs that Didn't Necessarilly Come Out This Year But That I Heard for the First Time This Year (not in order)
1. Marc Maron "Not Sold Out"
2. Patton Oswalt "Feelin Kinda Patton"
3. Maria Bamford "The Burning Bridges Tour"
4. Eugene Mirman "The Absurd Nightclub Comedy of"
5. Max Silvestri "The Greatest CD Ever Made"

Top Six Best Movies I Saw in the Movie Playing Place
1. Batman Begins
2. The 40 Year Old Virgin
3. Wedding Crashers
4. The Aristocrats
5. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
6. Sin City

My Real and Sincere Favorite Albums of 2005 (maybe in order... I'll let you know at the end of the list. I'll probably only pick 10. I don't know. Maybe 7.)
1. Sufjan Stevens "Illinois"
2. Wolf Parade "Apologies to the Queen Mary"
3. Bloc Party "Silent Alarm"
4. Bright Eyes "I'm Wide Awake It's Morning"
5. Beck "Guero"
6. Kelly Clarkson "Breakaway, Motherfuckers" (parental advisory)
7. The Decemberist "Picaresque"
8. The New Pornographers "Twin Cinema"
9. Coheed and Cambria "Good Apollo, I'm Burning Star IV Vol. 1"
10. Kaiser Chiefs "Employment"
IN ORDER. I think.

Top 20 Songs of 2005, Bitches
1. Wolf Parade "I'll Believe in Anything"
2. Kelly Clarkson "Since U Been Gone"
3. Feist "Mushaboom"
4. Sufjan Stevens "Come on! Feel The Illinoise!
5. Iron and Wine "The Trapeze Swinger"
6. Bloc Party "Like Eating Glass"
7. Kanye West "Touch The Sky"
8. Arctic Monkeys "I Bet That You Look Good on the Dancefloor"
9. We Are Scientists "Nobody Moves, Nobody Gets Hurt"
10. Robby Roadsteamer "The Hand I Beat Dogs With"
11. Bright Eyes "Landlocked Blues"
12. Beck "Earthquake Weather"
13. Big D and the Kids Table "LAX"
14. Birdmonster "Resurrection Song"
15. Laura Veirs "Galaxies"
16. Kaiser Cheifs "Everyday I Love You Less and Less"
17. The Decemberists "The Sporting Life"
18. Coheed and Cambria "The Suffering"
19. The New Pornographers "Use It"
20. Chris Parnell and The Lonely Island "Lazy Sunday"

It's been almost two months...

2005-11-27T10:48:00.000-08:00

It's been almost two months. The math on that might be a little or lot off but I never claimed to be a mathemagician.

Hey guess what time it is? That's right. It's time to once again talk about the stuff I watched on TV on this wonderful Sunday afternoon.

I know my last update was about watching TV on a Sunday afternoon but this one is completely different. "How's that?" you ask. Well, shut up, fruit loop, and pay attention.

I watched three minutes of television. The first minute and a half was the end of the first segment on a show on MtV called, "Next." It might be Sean Wilkinson's favorite show because Sean Wilkinson only watches crap. (Not like his brother Steve, who doesn't watch television at all. In fact, I'm pretty sure Steve shuns technology altogether. What now, Wilkinson Bros? I just called you both gay.)

On "Next," they take one mildly attractive person and send them on a 5 dates with other mildly attractive persons. When the main mildly attractive person finds a mildly attractive person that s/he wants to take on a second date, s/he then offers them a second date or a dollar for every minute they went on the date. Talk about Must See TV (and talk about Must Read Internet Ramblings. Kill me.) I only watched the end of one segment and guess what? It was a super-sexy lesbian edition. Only they weren't super-sexy lesbians. They were like sporty punk lesbians. With knives.

The final part of the date saw the main mildly attractive lesbian tell the black mildly attractive lesbian that she was on a date with that she had two minutes to eat three cherry pies that were laid out on a table. Holy Cunnilingusuassdasdjg. It was the most blatant lesbian thing that I've ever seen (I'm blind.) And then guess what the black lesbian covered in cherry pie did when she was offered a second date? She took the money. (Insert some cheap stupid racist joke about black people being poor. I'm too lazy to be that lazy.)

The second minute and a half of television watching was of a scene from the epic bug space adventure Starship Troopers that was playing on TBS THE SUPERSTATION (because it truly is super!) The scene was about Doogie Howser, Denise Richards, and some other guy telling a guy with a metal arm and no legs what their military assignments were going to be. Denise was up first and guess what? She's gonna be a pilot. Hope she doesn't fly her spaceship with the same vapid look that suggests her brain is deteriorating from mad cow disease complicated by SARS (I'm SO FUCKING EDGY THAT WHEN I BEAT OFF, I SLICE MY DINK). Then Doogie Howser tells metal arm that he got into games and theory and Denise goes, "Wow. That's military intelligence" because she's a good judge of intelligence (insert callback to madcow disease complicated by SARS but add something about AIDS.) Then the third guy goes, "I'm infantry" and metal arm shakes the third guy's hand and says," Son. Infantry is what made me the man I am today." Then they reveal that metal arm has no legs which I spoiled above but fuck you for not watching it before doing the readings. I can't discuss the movie with you if you've never seen it. But this is a very relevant point. The Infantry or Army or something gave this man a metal arm and took away his legs. So you see? In the future, blah blah blah. Denise Richards didn't even get naked in that movie. Did you know that? I was so pissed when I watched it that I stabbed a cat blind.

I'm gonna try and make a point to write in this more. I won't but I'm gonna try and make a point.

2005-10-09T14:15:00.000-07:00

In my continuing efforts to not have anything interesting to say about anything that is happening in my life (*which is not much), I expound upon two of the greatest television programs to ever air on the same channel at the same time (*time meaning year, not actual time). Made and My Super Sweet 16 are perhaps the finest reality shows ever. EVER. Holy Crap. Made is only sometimes great. The episodes where a girl wants to join the cheerleading squad or when a girl wants to be a BMX rider or when a girl wants to be a beauty queen or homecoming queen or prom queen suck. They suck.
The episodes where some scrawny nerd decides he wants to play varsity sports also suck.
The only episodes of Made that are always great are the ones where you have a nerdy guy trying to become a ladies' man. Holy fuck. These episdoes are each the saddest, most deluded hour of television ever. I just finished watching one where this kid, Brian, wanted to find a girl to take to the prom. He was one of those smart, nerdy, D&Dplaying, drama fags (aren't they all?) who was preoccupied with Shakespeare and Tenyson and all this antiquated Romantic era shit which was fucking great. He had this actual appreciation for Renaissance-era chivalry and had such romantic intentions and ideas and what does MTV do? They hook him up with this 30ish black guy who dresses like a pimp and who's job it is to now mold this kid into a "mack." Instead of encouraging the shy and quiet to be themselves and say fuck off to conformity, they strip this geek of everything he is and try and turn him into a Ryan Cabrera fan. And guess what? He's just as fucking awkward talking to girls that he has no interest in anyway. He shouldn't be talking to the cheerleading squad. He should find some other insecure drama kid and fall in love and have their own little oddball romance away from television.
So this guy eventually gets all malled up and puts gel in his hair and wears aviator glasses and works out everyday and finally asks out the girl of his dreams, who says that she'll go to prom but only as friends. HE GETS AN AFFIRMATIVE OUT OF THE GIRL HE'S BEEN SECRETLY STALKING FOR 5 YEARS AND HE BLOWS HER OFF. She's like, "Yeah. I'll go to prom with you. But it'll only be as friends" which makes perfect fucking sense because you can't go to the prom with somebody who's not your boyfriend as anything but a friend. I mean, nobody is taking an enemy to the prom, right? Most people, who don't have a bf/gf go to the prom with a friend. He says, point blank, "I guess I was expecting something more." WHAT?? I was a fucking nerd/geek/dork in high school but I was able to reconcile that by not really giving a shit. This kid asks her out, she says yes, and he walks away. I'm still not sure whether he's retarded or a geek Martin Luther King.
That's the kind of mayhem you get on only the most special of Made episodes.

My Super Sweet 16, however, is always gold. Holy fucking holy fuck. This show is beyond description really. The premise of the show is that you take the cuntiest girls who's parents have so much money that these bitches will never have to work a day in their life, and then throw them a 16th birthday party that would rival a regal wedding. Sweet frigging Christ. It's gold. I don't have much to say on this at the moment except that if I'm ever fortunate to fall into a small fortune and I happen to have children (specifically girls) who think that I would ever drop $100,000 on a birthday party, then I'm going to be putting them in a basket and sailing them down the Tiber river to go suck on a wolf's teet.

This was a waste of time. Thanks for seeing it to the end.

Korte Yeo is the man...

2005-09-16T15:49:00.000-07:00

From the Comedy Studio's Kvetch Board...

User: Korte
Subject: Sean "Napalm" Sullivan
Body: ...is a lunatic.

The highlight of the day for me was watching Sean unload like he was in a peak manic mode.
Tape submission to BCF? $35
Buffalo chicken salad and a rootbeer at the Vault? $12
The look on the sound guy's face when Sean kicked the mic stand over?
...Priceless.
Holy shit ...that was fucking great. The most I saw this one judge laugh all night was when you said, "I'm not going to let you guys (pointing) decide my fate with your not laughing enough, I'm going to fail as a result of my own poor decisions...FUCK it. I don't care, I'm gonna fly this plane right into the side of the mountain."

Thanks to everybody who came out and congrats to Stan Chen for moving on.

Boston Comedy Festival

2005-09-10T09:12:00.000-07:00

Tonight marks the beginning of a week long comedy festival in Boston known coincidentally enough as the Internation Boston Comedy and Movie Festival. It's a week long thingy that's going to be fun/draining/inspiring/depressing. Who knows. Here are the highlights and where you can find me all week. Pay particular attention to Thursday because that's when I was assigned to do what I do. Go to www.bostoncomedyfestival.com for more details...

MONDAY
8pm- The Vault- Robby Roadsteamer and Friends $15 (Robby is really good at breaking shit so if you like to see shit get broke, then come down)

THURSDAY
10pm- The Vault- Contest Preliminary 8 $15 (this is the round I'm rocking. If you came that would be awesome. If you came and laughed, that would be even better. There are 19 grammatical errors including tense and speling in this last parenthesis.)

FRIDAY
8pm and 10pm- The Vault- Contest Semi-Finals $15 (will I see you there? I don't know yet. Ask me Friday morning. If I answer the phone weeping, then no. If I answer teh phone weeping, then yes.)
Midnight- Improv Asylum- The Walsh Brothers Comedy Festival Show $10 (The Walsh Bros. are easily my favorite act in Boston and you're retarded if you disagree.)

SATURDAY
6pm- The Park Plaza $40- SOAP STARS! (From the website. I'm not making this up. "Come see two of "All My Children's" hottest soap stars. Vincent Irizarry and Cameron Mathison will thrill and entertain with stories from behind the soap. There is also a "Q & A" session and photo opportunites.")
8pm- Berklee Performance Center- Contest Finals $30 (wait? $30 for the finals? what the fuck is going on?)

So if you have about a million dollars to spend on comedy, this would be a pretty good week to do it. If not... wow... this shit is pretty expensive. I'm sorry.

2005-08-10T17:10:00.000-07:00

In an uncharacteristic parting with money, last night I spent an awful lot of money on an IPod and an FM Tuner for it from amazondotcom. I could not be more excited about a piece of technological excess than I am about the impending IPod. I will most likely be spending the next 7-10 years putting every cd I own, every cd somebody else owns, and a bunch of other cds on it. It will be glorious. Friday.

Also, if you're in Portland, ME, I'll be there Saturday night. But since only six people read this, I know for a fact that none of you will be in Portland, ME on Saturday.

2005-08-01T17:55:00.000-07:00

I'm working at the RMV again this summer which really isn't as bad as I like to make it out to sound. The only thing that sucks is that I work at the Registry in Brockton which is where I grew up and went to high school. So inevitably, I run into people I went to high school with and I always feel compelled to tell them that this is only temporary, that I'm doing other stuff on the side, that I'm not settling here for the long haul. Granted, none of it is warranted as the people I run into either don't care or don't remember me but I get anxious everytime. It's like everyday is a high school reunion where I don't have the opportunity to lie about the shitty job I have because the reunion is taking place at the place where I work.

Which got me thinking. Do you think there was ever a time where a kid somewhere did have to work his high school reunion? Like the kid was a little slow getting his shit together and had to work temporarily at a catering company and he got a call for a job that was the same night as his high school reunion and he hated having to turn down the money until he found out that the job was his high school reunion. And he tried to play both sides. Like he tried to schmooze with all the people he went to school with but at the same time he was passing out appetizers. Cause then he'd be remembered by all that attended as the most considerate and thoughtful guest at the reunion and he'd be known as the friendliest employee by his bosses.

But then he got carried away and he got caught fingering his high school sweetheart in the bathroom and was then very publicly fired from his job in front of the whole reunion. But then the people were like, "Whoa! You can't fire him! He's the most considerate and thoughtful guest at the reunion!" And then the guy who got sacked would be like, "Yeah! Class of 93 Rules! Fuck you! You can't fire me. I quit!" And then he goes back to the bathroom to finish off his high school sweetheart but you know how word travels in high school and by the time he gets to the bathroom she's already heard about how her high school boyfriend was just fired from the catering company that was catering their high school reunion and she starts feeling all guilty about cheating on her husband with her fuckup ex-boyfriend who couldn't even hold down a catering job and she starts thinking about her kids and she starts crying and then goes and pounds shot after shot of tequilla and pukes on the dance floor just like she did at the prom.

Ultimately this story ends with the catering guy drag racing then quaterback of the football team in a El Camino or something but I didn't feel like writing anymore. Maybe someday.

Also, to everyone who came to the Great and Secret Show from Brockton on the night I hosted (steve,agganis,rachel,alison,dugan,jalex,jamie?,otherpeople), thank you for coming. I genuinely appreciate the support and all of you know how ungenuine I am about everything so I insist you believe my sincerity just this once.

Dear Friends of www-sullivan.com

2005-07-18T18:10:00.000-07:00

Dear Friends of www.sean-sullivan.com,

Greetings. I bring two very important announcements of monumental importance. Each announcement is the equivalent of black monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey. After hearing them, you will switch religions.

First. This Thursday at 10pm, I've been asked to host the Great and Secret Comedy Show while the Walsh Bros. dodge the draft in Canada. It's at 10pm. www.improvboston.com has directions. Bring your own beer. Seriously. This is gonna be awesome... for me. Maybe it'll be awesome for you. I make no promises.

Second. I've been picked as one of the 96 comedians to compete in the Bostom Comedy and Movie Festival. This may not mean anything to you but it's pretty exciting. The show is Thursday September 15 at the Vault on Boylston St at 10pm. I'm calling in all sorts of favors that never existed and asking favors that will never be repayed for this one. I think my mom might even go.

So... as you can see, comedy is good at the moment. I hope you can find it in your heart to buy a van and follow me around while I do funny things.

Thanks,
Sean
Phriend, Philanthropist, and other P words that aren't pedophile

Exclusive...

2005-06-26T09:24:00.000-07:00

I'm about to drop the motherload of all exclusive bombs www.stephenwilkinson.net! You snooze, you lose, jerk! Just wait for it...

So I spent the week at the Registry of Motor Vehicles (and that's not hyperbole or whatever hyperbole is- I literally spent the week there), which sucks because it's the Registry and it's even worse when they call you up and say, "Hey! If you don't come down to the RMV today, you're going to be fired!" (You see what I did there? While you were looking up, I stabbed you in the gullet.)

My summer vacation is over. Apparently, I should have gone the route of all my other friends from home and either gone to grad school or not graduated on time. Either way, it's a life of work that I have to look forward to and I'm not particularly looking forward to it.

So Wednesday night, I'm bored but I don't want to do anything crazy because I have to get up at 7:30 to go to work which sucks. So I says to Steve, "Hey, Steve. Let's play baseball." And he's all like, "Cry cry boo hoo. I want to read comics. Drive me to the comic store, slave." It being Wednesday and new comic day, I accepted his proposal and drove him to Newbury Comics. But when I got to his house, Mini-Steve or Lil Wilkinson wanted to come but guess what? He was wearing socks and sandals! I'm not letting a guy wearing socks and sandals into my car! No fucking way!

So Lil Steve or Mini-Wilkinson goes and puts his face on and twenty mins later, we're off to Newbury Comics. When we get there, I pick up the two books I want and then we wander around aimlessly for an hour in the store. Lil Mini Steve Wilkinson decides to purchase the MC5's greatest hits, without ever hearing it because Rage Against the Machine likes the MC5. Then he starts telling me how System of a Down isn't nearly political enough and I think something popped in my brain because my nose started to bleed at what I decided was the dumbest thing I had ever heard. Really? System of a Down isn't political enough? For shame, Wilkinson, Steve, Mini-, Lil.

So there I stood with my two comics and a copy of Blender, and there Steve's brother stood with his copy of the MC5's greatest hits, but where did Steve stand? I know. Over in the corner, seriously debating about buying a used Showgirls VIP Limited Edition DVD Box Set. And who could blame him? For 20 dollars, he could all of the following, used:

Six photo cards with party games
Deck of Showgirls playing cards
"Pin the Pasties on the Showgirl" game with pasties and blindfold
Set of Showgirls shot glasses

And most importantly of all....

THE MOVIE SHOWGIRLS ON DVD!!!

This, my friends, is a difficult decision. Sure, it's a great deal. All that stuff for 20 bucks. But on the other hand, if you buy it, you'll own Showgirls on Dvd. Decisions, decisions.

But he went ahead with it anyway and bought it. And after some less awkward than I had hoped for banter about missing nipple tassles with the clerk, we were off. Now, here's where my story ends. I dropped the Brothers Wilkinson off and Steve faced a dillemma. He was going to have bring the Showgirls VIP Limited Edition DVD box set into his house past his mother and since it comes in a pretty good sized box, it'd be near impossible to sneak in. Steve pondered whether to try and sneak it past or to try and impress his mother with what a good deal he found on the Showgirls VIP Limited Edition DVD box set. And I leave you with that. Hopefully Steve writes this story up also so that you, my loyal readers (i.e. Steve) can know what Steve did.

What would you do, Steve?

Tomorrow

2005-06-14T08:17:00.000-07:00

I know Wilks talked about this subject a few weeks back but since my blog is better than his, I suppose I'll have to one up him once again.

Tomorrow is June 15th. It is a Wednesday. It is the day after Flag Day. It is also going to be the greatest day in the history of modern American cinema (and when I mean modern American cinema, I'm speaking of films released after June 14, 2005). Tomorrow is the premiere of Batman Begins and I, for one, am shit-my-pants excited. Seriously, I'm like school girl giddy over this movie. Batman is my Justin Timberlake.

I was watching TV with Kassandra last week and we were talking and then a commercial for the movie came on and everything stopped. I went into a trance and didn't come out of it until the commercial was over. That's how I hope I feel for the entire time I'm in the theater watching it tomorrow. Oh yes. I'm going to see it tomorrow. Opening day. I'd go tonight at 12:05am but I'd rather not watch the movie with a bunch of coked-up nerds (not that I know any nerds that do cocaine).

Bravo just had some stupid countdown of the 20 Best Superheroes, Supervillians, and Supervixens (whatever the hell that means) and they ranked Batman #3 on the Superheroes list! #3! I'm going on a stabbing spree. Seriously. They put Superman #2 and Spiderman #1.

This might have seemed like a pointless entry and you're probably thinking that I have too much time on my hands and you'd be right. Do you know what I've accomplished since graduating from college? I watched the first two discs of the three disc Newsradio Dvd set that came out. Well, at least I have Batman to look forward to.

The Killers at Lupo's

2005-06-07T09:42:00.000-07:00

Last night, I went and saw the Killers and Louis XIV at Lupo's in Providence, a venue I generally like. It's like a cleaner Worcester Palladium. The tickets were face value like thirty dollars but my brother gave me one for twenty so it seemed like a deal. I should have known better. I don't think someone should pay thirty dollars to see a headlining band that only has one album to it's name. Granted, the Killers are pretty hot right now but if they played every song they know (which I think they might have) then they could only possibly play for an hour. If I'm paying thirty dollars for a band, I want at least an hour and half.

Apparently, on real nights (Thurs-Sat), Lupo's turns into a dance club called Diesel or something equally gay but since Monday isn't a club night, the show started at 9:15. We got there at 8:35. I wrote a while back about how I couldn't go to "punk" rock shows anymore because I ended up being older than everyone there. Well, I can't go to concerts where the band is played equally on WBCN and KISS 108 anymore either. Lupo's was filled last night, with the shittiest mix of "cool" kids that Providence had to offer. I was whipped in the face by more "cool" girls and their "cool" pony tails while they did their "cool" dances to the "cool" song that they heard on their "cool" radio station that their "cool" friends listen to while they drink "cool" wine coolers behind their "cool" parents' backs in their "cool" parents' basements. Without a doubt, I was one of probably seven people out of the 2,500 people there that would not be able to summarize last week's episode of the OC. I was under the impression that "hipsters" liked the Killers but it turns out that "hipsters" most likely hate the Killers because according to the audience at the show last night, people who like the Killers also like high school football, prom, sororities, Abercrombie and Fitch, beer pong, and working on the high school year book.

So with the environment set and established, the concert went like this. Louis XIV were the only support band. I can say with confidence that Louis XIV were one of the lamest bands I have ever seen. I can't say that I have ever experienced such displeasure while watching one band and I've seen Ludacris (Yes, Steve, even CocoRosie were better than Louis XIV). I guess it's cause I hate AC/DC and anytime a band comes out that sounds like AC/DC, I automatically hate them (with the exception of Jet, who I feel do AC/DC better than AC/DC). Louis XIV were also the laziest band I've ever seen. They stood around with their stupid leather jackets and their stupid mullets and their stupid guitars and played their stupid songs and then posed like stupid rock stars which they stupid didn't deserve to stupid do. I don't think you can justifiably be as cock swaggering cocky as Louis XIV were until you've reached levels of success comparable to the Rolling Stones. And I feel bad for all the "cool" kids that got suckered into their fake rock bullshit but then I don't feel bad because these are the same kids that shit their pants with excitement when they hear Def Leppard at a party.

So yeah. I hated this band and thier shitty derivative cockrock.

And Lupo's is the loudest venue I've ever been to. I saw Thrice/PoisonTheWell/Vaux at Lupo's and left as usual with ears ringing but usually the sound is clear. At Lupo's, it's never clear. It's just loud. So I went oldman style and bought ear plugs which is unfortunate because I should've bought a shotgun and shot myself before having to watch Louis XIV.

So. Louis XIV ends. Half hour set change, during which everybody decides they want to get as close to the stage as possible which is normal but what's not normal is that it's girls in half shirts and mini-skirts, holding mixed drinks, and wearing sandals. If you're 5'3'', you are not going to be able to see anything from the pit. Stand in the back like you're supposed to. They pulled a girl out of the front before the Killers came out who was passed out but nobody cared except for her boyfriend who ran after her backstage.

The Killers were about what you expect the Killers to be. They played most of the songs off their ONE album, played a new song, and played a couple of B-sides. They were done in an hour. The most interesting part was that they played "Somebody Told Me" really early and "Mr. Brightside" near the end of their initial set. The encore consisted of "Jenny Was A Friend of Mine" and "All These Things That I've Done." They were unspectacular yet not terrible. I left feeling neither satisfied/dissatisfied. I just left thinking, "Well, I can cross the Killers off the list of bands I need to see again."

But on the ride home, I started thinking about the best/worst concerts I've ever been too and decided that I'm going to post those lists by band instead of overall show. So... coming soon... two lists... the Best Sets I've seen... the Worst Sets I've seen.

Fart.

The film "Crash"

2005-06-01T15:30:00.000-07:00

If you are planning on seeing the film Crash, which I recommend, make sure that you see the entire thing. If you get there and the film is already playing, turn around, and try again some other day. Me and the ladyfriend went to the 3:55 showing at Showcase Cinemas Randolph today. We stopped at CVS at approx 3:25. I bought a Coke and Reece' Pieces and she a Diet Coke and Rolo Bites (which are not very good and do not deserve any sort of recommendation). We arrived at the theater at 3:50, bought tickets at 3:53, and sat down at approx 3:58. By my estimation, if the film started at 3:55 (which we all know never happens because of commercials and trailers and movie jumbles and "fun" trivia), then we would have missed 3 minutes of the movie which must have been an action packed 3 minutes because as I walked in and Ludacris was doing something with some other guy at some car place thing, I sat for the rest of the movie going, "What the hell is going on?" I knew that the movie was 1 hour and 40 minutes long and I also knew that my mother had heard that it was "weird." So imagine my surprise when the movie ends at 5:05. We missed a good 20-30 minutes and in those 20-30 minutes, the entire movie is set up, characters established, and plots begun. We were given free passes and will go and finish/start the movie on Saturday.

On a sidenote: At a movie that deals with racially sensitive topics/issues, I found that I was powerless against asking the three Haitian women at the end of my row (and I only know that they were Haitian because I spent four years at Brockton High) to stop talking loudly throughout the portion of the movie that we saw. I can't think any more awkward time to absentmindedly reinforce racial stereotypes than when Matt Dillon is on the screen 20 feet away talking about "black people are awful this and spanish people are awful that."

2005-05-31T15:48:00.000-07:00

I'm not very good at organizing things. Today... I started trying to get a poker game going for this evening around 1pm and I have made no progress. None. I am not very good at organizing things.

That was what I called a modified haiku.

I have a bachelor's degree. What do you know, you smug bastard?

Don't tell me that's not a modified haiku! I'll cut you, bitch!

2005-05-21T12:37:00.000-07:00

I am on the verge of graduating from college. Tomorrow is commencement and then I'm "officially" done with school. I'm staying in Amherst till Tuesday and then I'm moving all my stuff home. I don't go back to work until June 20th.

Between Wednesday May 25th and Monday June 20th, I need to somehow make somewhere between 500,000 and 2.4 million dollars that I can somehow sustain myself on so that I don't have to work for awhile. Prospects are good.

I've got some stuff stand-up wise coming up but I'm too lazy to get my PalmPilot and look up the dates. I'm pretty good about being terrible at marketing.

I bought Team America on dvd and the third Planetary graphic novel because I got my tax returns back and the government decided that I was too poor/lazy/lazyagain to justify taking the little money I have from me.

I'll leave with a funny anecdote that happened to an imaginary guy named Charlie.

"So we were sitting up on the ledge. You know. Like a steel beem. We're sitting up there eating our lunch when all of a sudden, Rico loses his balance, which is pretty hard to do when you're sitting dow, and falls 20 stories to his death. Ain't that something."

Post PIAD

2005-05-17T12:01:00.000-07:00

On Friday 5/13, I randomly selected 3 actors and an ensemble of 8. I then had to write a 10 minute play using the trigger line, "More than you can imagine." I took this all to the Sketch 22 "comedy" show. I came up with a basic situation and then left about half-way through the "comedy" show because I had enough of the "comedy" and was becoming quite "angry" at how "funny" it was.

I started writing at 10pm. I finished the first draft at 12:30am. I then let Seangeorge read it while I watched the Sox lose like 84-3. I finished a second draft at 1:30am. We went to the Whately diner at 2:15 where I ate a BLT and greasy fries. I then went home and slept.

I woke up at 7:15, took a shower, and got dressed. I made it to the Fine Arts Center at 8 and dropped off my play. I met my director, Byam Stevens, artistic director of the Miniature Theater of Chester, and discussed my play and cleared up any confusion. I stayed there until 11:30 then came home and went to sleep.

I woke up around 4, ate some Frosted Mini-Wheats, and watched part of Rambo II, part of Rambo III, and part of the 13th Warrior with Seangeorge. We also watched the video game channel. I then took another shower and got dressed. I went to Kassandra's to iron my shirt and then back to my house to get food from my parents.

I got hamburgers, rolls, sandwich steaks, chicken, cookies, caramel creams, stuffing, shake and bake, and green beans. I then went back to the Fine Arts Center at 7 to hang out till the show started at 8.

My play went last. Four plays went before mine.

Afterward, I had to awkwardly stand around while people kept telling me how much they loved my play. I, being unable to take compliments and also being slightly jaded, shut down at what I presumed was false sincerity but was actually more likely sincere sincerity. I then went to an after-party where I did more awkward standing and then to an after-after-party where, again, I awkwardly stood. Then I went to sleep.

The name of my play was "Mr. Sawyer's 4th Grade International History Class Presents The "Rape" of the Merchant Class: A Discussion Play in Five Acts by Shaw Williams Ibsen." I will most likely register it with the Writer's Guild at some point. If you would care to read it let me know. I should have a copy of it on DVD some time in the next 2-12 months.

I finished my play

2005-05-13T22:41:00.000-07:00

I finished my play. It is called "Mr. Sawyer's 4th Grade International History Class presents The "Rape" of the Merchant Class: A Discussion Play in Five Acts by Shaw Williams Ibsen"

Seangeorge thought it was funny.

If you would like to see it, come to the Rand theater at 8pm tomorrow night.

2005-05-13T20:25:00.000-07:00

I'm abandoning this live blogging because it's silly.

PIAD Update 2

2005-05-13T19:26:00.000-07:00

I'm on a roll.
I promise...
Banditos...
Pirates...
Ninjas...

It's gonna knock the pants off of Mulberry Elementary.

PIAD Update 1

2005-05-13T18:46:00.000-07:00

I'm just writing to quickly say that it is now 9:50. I just got home from receiving my "instructions" and watching have of the Sketch 22 show. While there, I came up with a situation and characters. I will now begin writing. If this is what you had planned to do all night (watch my blog), I assure you'd be better suited stabbing your knees with paintbrushes.

Bus Ride

2005-05-11T13:23:00.000-07:00

Sometimes when I'm on campus in Amherst, I need to take the bus home to my house in Sunderland. Generally, the public transportation is relatively devoid of "crazies." I live in New York for four months. I know what it's like to ride the subway all day filled with crazy people. But in the Pioneer Valley, it's relatively sane.

That is until today, when one stop from my house, the bus overshot the stop and a crazy old Prospector looking fellow, hat and everything, carrying an enormous tree branch cane, got on. The bus driver was listening to the Who, at a decent volume. Here is what the crazy old Prospector said:

"Don't you know where the goddamn fucking bus stop is? There's a goddamn fucking sign. I'm a goddamn fucking crippled old man. I should break out the goddamn fucking windows. Stupid goddamn fucking kid. Probably the same goddamn fucking kid that's always listening to the goddamn fucking radio instead of paying attention to the goddamn fucking road. I SHOULD REPORT YOU TO YOUR GODDAMN FUCKING SUPERVISOR! It's a goddamn fucking federal offense. Did you hear me? A goddamn fucking federal offense to be listening to the goddamn fucking radio instead of paying attention to the goddamn fucking road. A federal offense. I don't know if you know this but this is still the goddamn fucking United States of America, even if you don't think so."

It was the most I had ever heard the words "goddamn" followed by "fucking" in my life. It was truly one of the watershed events in my life. In New York, the subways are filled with crackheads and homeless people and while they're crazy, they're not particularly violent. Out in Western MA, our crazies don't know that the Cold War is over. They think communists have infiltrated the White House and that they are sworn to protect the great United States of America, even if that means handing out sentences of capital punishment to bus drivers who listen to the Who.

Best Fake Graduation Ever!

2005-05-08T15:34:00.000-07:00

My favorite part is when they announced the names of the 40 graduating nerd kids who received research grants, had them all come up and stand on the stage, and then had them all sit back down. No certificates, no handshakes, no nothing. That's what you get for all your ambition, smart kids! A whole fat load of nothing!

But it guess yesterday sort of marked the beginning of the end of college. Here's a rundown of what I have left to do in the next two weeks.

Monday- Final Ghosts class, second to last Costume Design class, and last Playwrighting class

Tuesday- Usually on Tuesdays and Thursdays I try and sub teach for $70 a day in Amherst but not this week. This Tuesday is going to be filled trying to hammer out a 15 page paper on the classic moralist tradition of comedy originated by Aristophanes, revived by George Bernard Shaw, and carried today by Tony Kushner and Paula Vogel. Mixed into all this is discussion about the psychological/physiological nature of laughter, Freud's theories on jokes, and Lenny Bruce. It's a real humdinger of boringness that would only be interesting to people who like boring.

Wednesday- Last Costume Design class where we present rough sketches of five designs and the color schemes we'll use for each. Yes. It is that exciting.

Thursday- I might sub if I can get that fifteen page paper done. But of course, if I get that fifteen page paper done, I could take Thursday and write my ten page paper on liminality Angels in America or draw and color those five designs from wednesday over.

Friday- Turn in my fifteen page paper in around noon or so and then go to sleep till 6pm. Then at 7pm, I'm going to the Fine Arts Center so that I can pick up all my information about Play-in-a-Day. I'm one of five playwrights (me, the only undergrad and four pros) who will be given a prompt line or word or something and then a set number of actors and their bios and then go home and write a play between the hours of 8pm and 8am. I might update live all night on www.sean-sullivan.com and I'm definetly going to the Whately Diner at 3:00Am with Seangeorge and possible SCotes. If you'd like to watch the progress live, tune in at 8pm Friday night and keep hitting refresh on your browser until something pops up thats new. If you'd like to eat greasy diner food at 3:00 Am, meet us at the Whate.

Saturday- I turn my play in at 8am and then hopefully go home and sleep all day. Then at 8PM in the Rand Theater, all five new plays will be presented by a company of actors and tech people who have been working on them all day. If you'd like to go, tickets are only a dollar for students. It should be great at best and interesting at least. Then there will probably be a party.

Sunday- I'm going to be finishing up the work that I didn't get done on Thursday

Monday- Turn in ten page Angels paper. Finish Costume work.

Tuesday- Turn in Costume work.

Wednesday-Saturday- Nothing. Maybe subbing. Maybe not. Might try and go down and watch the Great and Secret Show that Thursday. I should probably email Chris/Dave (Dave, if you read this, I'm going to email you).

Sunday- Commencement 2005. If it's sunny and I can get a ride, I'll go. If it's rainy, I'll sleep. Either way, it's going to be a waste of time.

After that? Who knows. I'll be working at the Registry most likely this summer and then hopefully getting famous and rich and famous after that.

Cheers.

Update Part 2

2005-05-07T16:22:00.000-07:00

No grocery store but I was brought supplies from Costco.

24 Cans of Coke
Two bags of Frosted Mini-Wheats in one box
A box of Nature's Valley Oats and Honey Granola Bars
A case of water, specifically Aquafina
A Fart Sandwich
A Bowling ball bag filled with Gushers (trademark)

Update

2005-05-07T08:54:00.000-07:00

In about a half hour, I'm going to be heading off to the Commonwealth College Celebration of Excellence. Essentially, UMass is far to big to recognize graduating seniors individually. While this is a bummer for parents and nerdy kids, I couldn't be happier that on May 22, commencement will be about an hour and a half long and then I can get out of there. I care so little about my actual commencement that I told my parents not to bother coming up for it.

But Commenwealth College, an organization that has been nothing but a pain in the ass for the past four years, what with all their paperwork, weekly emails, and stupid "harder" classes, feels that us "elite" should be individually recognized by a panel of people whom I've never met/seen/care to see/or care to meet. But I'm going, mainly for my parents who say "I'm only going to graduate from college once" (fingers crossed that I get rich/famous/rich enough to never need grad school).

So today, I'm going to the Commonwealth College Celebration of Excellence today... where I'll pick up my Honors cord so that in two weeks, when I really graduated, I can stick out in a football field of mediocrity. The real kick in the balls is that this is all an empty gesture. I STILL HAVE THREE DAYS OF CLASSES! Why are we celebrating my excellence when I'm not even sure I'm graduating? (Note: I am graduating, barring an F in Costume Design which surprisingly is not very likely to happen). In High School, I think we got our National Honor Society sashes after school in a meeting where we talked about building a park bench or tree or something in honor of drunk driving. I could have to a meeting. That would have been fine with me.

But alas, as I sit here in my pajamas with 27 mins till my ride shows up, my parents are presumably on the road and I'm going to get dressed and then sit in a sea of boring for two hours and then eat some Italian food at Pinocchio's Del Cucinajsjaginnisalda and then guilt-trip my parents into taking me grocery shopping. If all goes well, I'll post what I got at the grocery store right here in this very blog! Won't that be exciting, Steve?

This is a reminder for myself

2005-05-03T20:46:00.000-07:00

Buy Sufjan Stevens records.

I will no longer go to punk rock concerts

2005-04-19T18:47:00.000-07:00

First. A disclaimer. I will continue to go to punk rock concerts. We're off to a good start.

Ok. So. Matt A Traub (A standing for Asshole or Alvin) said, "Dude, I can't figure out if we listen to really shitty music or if all these really shitty kids just happen to listen to really good music?" The answer, for the most part, probably falls somewhere between the two. We went to see The Format, Jimmy Eat World, and Taking Back Sunday in Providence. We had full knowledge going in that we would be among the older crowd but I had no idea that we would be more interested in watching security tackle kids who tried to rush the floor than we would be the performing bands. We started to scheme ways that we could also tackle kids who tried to rush the floor, not because we wanted to prevent kids who did not have floor tickets from reaching the floor but because we wanted to hurt those younger kids who did not have floor tickets and were making us look older in comparison. One kid came up to me and asked me if I was going to leave and that if I was, could he have my wristband. I looked him in the eyes and extended a stream of profanities. That's not true. I looked him in the eyes and said, "Go away." He said, "What?" and I said, "Go away," and in fairness to this kid, he went away, most likely muttering about the two stupid old guys being all old and stupid at the concert for high school kids. I CAN NO LONGER GO TO CONCERTS WHERE THE BAND PERFORMING IS YOUNGER THAN I AM OR THE CROWD IS GOING TO BE A BUNCH OF SHITTY HIGH SCHOOL KIDS. Also, Traub sucks. This post is bad but that's what happens when I stop writing because of shit like school and I HAVE NO EXCUSE.

It's been too long

2005-04-18T12:22:00.000-07:00

Please forgive me. It's been a long time. I've got some writings that I'd like to write but I'm really lazy. I will write about a bunch of stuff including 1. why I can't go to punk rock concerts anymore 2. what am I going to do with my life once school is over, and 3. why I shouldn't be a sheep wrangler.

I will leave you with the smartest and most enlightened thing Matthew A Traub has ever said: "Dude, I can't figure out if we listen to really shitty music or if all these really shitty kids listen to really good music..."

Spring Break

2005-03-11T18:15:00.000-08:00

I'm spending a delicious spring break in sunny Brockton, MA. But more importantly, I'm going on tour. Or rather, I'm doing stand-up in Boston a couple of times. IN ONE WEEK. Yeah. That's right. You could potentially have the opportunity to see my high fallutin comedy upwards of 2-3 times IN THE SAME WEEK. Minds blown yet? Here's where you'll find me.

Monday: Jimmy Tingle's Off Broadway Theater in Somerville. I'm booked on Myq Kaplan's College Comedy Show

Friday: The Comedy Studio like what? Yeah, bitches. It's a sweet lineup. Roadsteamer, the Walsh Bros... Me. It don't get better.

I'll be editing this as I add more spots. Hopefully Bill King will even make an appearance or two or three.

Update

2005-02-17T12:42:00.000-08:00

All right. I get it. I don't update very often. I'm busy. Very busy. "Wait a sec, you can't possibly be busy!" Oh yeah? Well, tell that to my Palm Pilot. "Oh. You have a Palm Pilot. Nevermind. Only busy people have Palm Pilots. My bad." Your bad indeed.

I'll save the jokes for a minute but I won't save the excuses. I'm gonna spend them all right now. Here are the reasons I'm busy.

1. School. I'm taking four classes (costume design, a playwrighting class that meets once a week, a honors class pass/fail, and an independent study). It's not a very heavy workload but all that time in New York made me forget how to be a student so it takes twice as much time to get anything done.

2. I'm looking for a job. This will soon disappear because the Amherst Pelham Regional School District is about to get their newest substitute teacher in the form of: me! That's right. Hopefully, substitute teaching will give me plenty of time to do all the work I've been slowly getting down from bullet number one.

3. I've hooked up with a comic named Elisha Yaffee and his merry group of friends at Joke Mountain (my bio and video are coming as soon as I quite being lazy), in an effort to create some sort of comedy scene while Elisha and myself are stuck in Amherst. We're currently working on a show we've got set for Wenedsday February 23rd 10PM at the Pub in Amherst Center. Me and Elisha will be sharing hosting duties and a bunch of local funny people and Seangeorge (who is not very funny but lives in my house and was like cry cry boo hoo until I put him on the show). Please come to this show because if you do, we'll be able to waste two hours of your time on a weekly basis.

4. Annoying Sean Grealish. There? Are you happy? I shouted you out on the internet. Now get back in the attic and do your calculus.

Come to the Pub on the 23rd, go to www.Jokemountain.com, buy me a cake, and stop crying.

I left the following messages for Michael Salamone who is too important to respond...

2005-02-06T13:06:00.000-08:00

SeanS272: the math that you do with letters is incredible
SeanS272: i can't find my shoe
SeanS272: if a unicorn is a mythical creature, why do they arouse me so much? SeanS272: i just ate a bug
SeanS272: i have a vegatable garden
SeanS272: when i was 12, my mom punched me in the face for smoking cloves
SeanS272: i got kicked out of the military for farting the national anthem SeanS272: m.c. hammer said "it" best
SeanS272: one of these days, the sun is going to die and it's gonna be a long ass line at the wake

Bright Eyes? More like Bright I-wish-I-was-that- good

2005-02-03T13:19:00.000-08:00

Spurred on by my attempts to be a better waste of your time than www.stephenwilkinson.net, I will also be providing you with a review of the Bright Eyes concert I attended on January 20something at some old building at Harvard.

We missed Tilly and the Wall. I wasn't too upset because do you know what we were doing during Tilly and the Wall? That's right! Eating pizza! Pizza is awesome! (stay tuned for a future review of the pizza I ate during Tilly and the Wall)

We walked across campus and I saw the spot where John Harvard died. Well, I saw the spot where I think John Harvard died. Well, I saw a spot. Apparently it takes more than just walking around the Harvard campus at night to become a functioning adult instead of a rambling idiot.

We walked into the venue just as Tilly and the Wall were finishing and just as I was beginning my digestion of the truly rockin pizza I had just finished. We immediately noticed that there was a merch table set up. Steve immediately whipped out his wallet and started throwing Franklins around like confetti but I stopped him and explained that if we waited till tomorrow, we could buy the new Bright Eyes' cds at a corporate retail outfit for a lot cheaper. This way we could continue to not directly support the artists and also help fund terrorism. Steve smiled and drooled and we took our seats.

Wait a second. Did I just say seats? I meant to say pews cause they were definitely pews. And honestly, I can't think of a more appropriate seating arrangement when you're about to have a truly rockin religious experience while listening to a skinny kid from Nebraska than to sit in some almighty rock and roll pews.

But before Father Bright Eyes began his sermon, we had to sit through the sonic swill of CocoRosie. Imagine if you will, two French chicks on a stage. One of them can sing like an opera singer and play the piano and guitar and harp. The other sounds like she's gargling razor blades. Now imagine that they are almost identical and then go watch a monkey try and fuck a football because that's what listening to CocoRosie was like. I don't care how French you are... you cannot play children's toys into a microphone. And amazingly enough, they also had an untalented black rap guy who was also very French. I didn't know France had black people let alone a rapper with leanings toward the PoMo.

After CocoRosie put their toys away, Bright Eyes came out and then Bright Eyes' band came out. Immediately people started shouting "I love you Connor" "Take your shirt off, Connor" and "I agree with your views on the North Atlantic Trade Organization, Connor." Who is Connor? I don't know about those people but I was at a Bright Eyes concert, not a Connor concert but that's Harvard for ya.

Bright Eyes played awesomely. So awesome. And the best part about the whole show were the two sets of fruits on either side of Steve and myself. On Steve's left were a couple where the lady part of the couple was dressed like a flapper and the guy part was a guy in a suit. How indie. On my right, were the only two guys in the entire audience less hip than Steve and myself. The guy right next to me rocked out all night but it looked like his neck was spasming. Also, he sang most of the songs. Well... I should point out that he wasn't really singing so much as making noise because to call what he was doing singing would be an insult to singing people. So for every song it was the guy to my right and Bright Eyes on lead vocals.

But the best quote of the night came from the guy sitting to the right of the guy sitting to my right. This guy was clueless. He had no idea what was going on and I think he was trying to impress the guy sitting to my right (it is Cambridge after all) and after Bright Eyes finished playing some song, the guy two guys down said, "That's my favorite song. I love that song. Which album is it on?" and then the uber Bright Eyes fan in the Oxford shirt and pleated khakis to my right responded with, "It's on the new album." "Oh. I haven't heard that one before." YOU CAN'T SAY THAT A SONG IS YOUR FAVORITE SONG AND THAT YOU WERE GLAD BRIGHT EYES PLAYED IT, IF YOU'VE NEVER HEARD THE SONG BEFORE!

But besides these two rejects, Bright Eyes killed us with rock and roll. If the old theater at Harvard had been a crime scene, the investigators would have been ankle deep in blood- that's how good it was.

So suck on that, www.stephenwilkinson.net. I hate you.

Love,
Sean

The Womb is dying...

2005-02-01T13:38:00.000-08:00

You know your car is in rough shape when the mechanic, who makes his livelihood convincing people to let him fix their cars, suggests that you junk it.

Apparently, the computer inside my car is dying which is odd because I didn't even know cars had computers. I thought the only car that had a computer in it was Knight Rider's but apparently Ford started installing computer in 1990 Ford Tempos, as well. Only difference is that instead of the polite, faux-British stylings of William Daniels, my K.I.T.T. is retarded.

Vogler Can Kiss My Ass

2005-01-10T09:42:00.000-08:00

Occasionally, a screenwriter can pitch his film by describing it as the meeting between two well-known films. This is called the Yalta pitch. Film X can be described as: Film Y meets Film Z. I read a script that was described to me as: Hamlet meets The Godfather.

I'm not very good at writing screenplays but I am very good at pitching meetings between two other movies. Someday I hope to make all of these meetings into award winning screenplays.

Death of a Salesman meets You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown

Babe meets The Exorcist

The Great Mouse Detective meets 9 1/2 Weeks

Weekend at Bernie's II meets Sophie's Choice

A Christmas Story meets Schindler's List

Kangaroo Jack meets Crocodile Dundee

The Lion King meets The Lion King II: Simba's Pride

Radio meets Forrest Gump

Casablanca meets Ghostbusters II

The Manchurian Candidate meets Meet Wally Sparks

The Piano meets The Pianist

Deep Impact meets Armaggedon

Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers: The Movie meets Nell

Commencement 2005

2005-01-04T15:49:00.000-08:00

The following is my submission for the 2005 Student Commencement speech. If the weather allows, I'll most likely be reading it at the Comedy Studio Thursday night. Please enjoy...

A famous man once said, “Look beyond what you can see with just your eyes and you’ll find a bucket of rainbows.” Remember this, my friends, on the day of your commencement. Remember that just because a person is famous, it doesn’t mean that the things they say will make sense. That’s why I’m here today. The organizers of today’s festivities were sitting around trying to think of a cool, famous speaker that would really motivate you guys and I stormed right into that office and yelled, “Look beyond what you can see with just your eyes and you’ll find a bucket of rainbows” and they were all like, “What?” and I was like, “It’s a quote… from a famous person” and then they were like, “Really? Who?” and I was like, “I don’t know but it’s famous. I read it” and they were like, “In a book?” and I said, “No. Online.” And they were like, “Oh… well that quote doesn’t make any sense” and I was like, “I know. That’s why you should let me give that speech on commencement day. If you let some famous person come down here, he/she’s just gonna spit out some nonsense like ‘look beyond what you can see with just your eyes and you’ll find a bucket of rainbows.” Then they were like, “Well who are you?” and I said, “I’m Sean Sullivan” and they were like, “Who?” and I said, “Exactly.” Cause you see, all the important quotes from famous people were all made before they were famous. Like Gandhi. Gandhi did all his good stuff before he was famous. Once he got some attention and started to be recognized, he became all focused on his weight and stuff. You don’t want Gandhi to be giving your commencement speech. You want somebody unknown so that in 10 years when you’re flipping through the TV Guide and you see “The Sean Sullivan Show,” you say, “Who the hell's Sean Sullivan? I don’t know. I guess I’ll watch it.”

So here we are, Class of 2005. Take a look to your left. Take a look to your right. Those two people that you just looked at… they won’t be here tomorrow. Cause they graduated. From college. I… ah… also graduated. I just don’t have anybody to look at me. So… look at the podium. Look at the speaker. He also graduated. Ok. Now we’re all equal. We all graduated. Unless of course… you have to finish up a couple of credits over the summer but you petitioned to walk in the spring. You’re not lesser people… you’re just… well… you’re still people. And nobody… not even that professor who gave you an incomplete cause instead of writing a paper about the indigenous people of Australia, you wrote “Wendy’s Pick-Up Window. Open Late” 3,000 times on pink cardstock in crayon. You’re here today and that’s all that matters.

And what an exciting year to be graduating from the flagship campus of a fledging state university system. University of Massachusetts at Amherst Class of 2005, you are the 2004 World Champion Boston Red Sox. You’re the class that got so close every year… so close… you could reach out and grab it but alas… you always fell short. Everybody believed in you and time and time again, you always let them down. For 86 years, you let everybody down. But not this year. Oh no. This was the year. Even when you traded Nomar and it looked like it was all gonna turn to shit again, you persevered. Finally, you’re a winner. Finally, you can hold your head high and say, “I am not a loser. I AM NOT A LOSER.”

Today, you step into a world a graduate of Umass, going the ranks of the tens of famous people who once graced our fine institution and who are now blissfully crazy. Let’s do the list. Bill Pullman. Crazy. Seriously, Casper the Friendly Ghost? Richard Gere. Crazy. A gerbil is a pet, Dick. Dr. J. Crazy. What’s Dr. J a doctor of? Slam-dunks? Sorry but I don’t think you can get a PhD in slam-dunking. Bill Cosby? Super crazy. What happened to him, huh? He’s mean now. He’s just a mean, old man. Bill Cosby is upset because African-American youths aren’t taking full advantage of their educational possibilities. What? Dude… I didn’t watch a whole lot of the Fat Albert cartoons growing up but of the few I did see, I don’t remember any episodes where the Cosby kids were studying real hard for that big math test. I only remember them hanging out in a junkyard playing music with radiators and syringes. And what’s the deal with that movie with the fat man’s Kel Mitchell? Really? Who thought a live action Fat Albert movie was a good idea. Come on, Bill, get your shit together, buddy. So listen up, Class of 2005, do not follow Bill Cosby’s example. That guy is batshit crazy. He’s got a giant hole in his brain from sucking up all those processing fumes from all that Kodak film. You guys want to be like Richard Gere and shove gerbils up your ass, that’s ok cause Richard Gere has an Oscar. Bill Cosby just has Ghost Dad.

But you should’t try and follow in anyone’s footsteps. You should lay out your own path… a path laced with the memories of your four years at Umass. Now, I know that none of us could possibly remember every moment of our four year trip but it might be worthwhile, while you still have the chance, to find out from your buddies what really happened that night when you blacked out and woke up on the steps of the Student Union in a gorilla costumes with a bucket of mascara and a sign that said, “2 + 3 = MEAT.” Sure, all that stuff you learned about cellular mitosis and all the time you spent studying Locke’s treatises will probably pay off someday, but it’s gonna be the story about how you drunkenly hooked up with your RA that’s gonna convince your kid’s friends to label you, “the coolest dad in the world” or secure your status as a MILF. Sure… your computer science degree is gonna look good when you interview for a job at Microsoft but it’s gonna be the story of the time you walked in on your roommate asphyxiating himself auto-erotically that’s gonna seal the deal. You guys didn’t just pay for an education. You paid for four years of memories and adventures like the time you dressed in drag so you could get into Smith College’s topless pillow fight party. So treasure those memories as you enter into the overly competitive job market and piss poor economy.

So… I guess I’ll try and sum up what I’m trying to say. Remember: Don’t trust famous people. They’re liars. Remember: That time you ate a dozen eggs cause you were drunk on warm PBR. And remember this day, cause I probably won’t. What is it? 1000 degrees out here? Seriously… I probably shouldn’t have finished off that bottle of Grey Goose for breakfast.

Oh yeah and remember… dreams do come true. They do. But also remember, that some dreams don’t come true. You can’t be discouraged. And oh yeah, remember that a nightmare is also a dream that can come true, ok? You gotta take the good with the bad. And if your dream does come true, lay off for awhile, ok? Don’t be greedy. Not everybody’s dreams are gonna come true. It’s not cool to have like 6 of your dreams come true in a row and then go showing off. And don’t be a braggart. If your dream comes true, celebrate small. Some people can’t even remember their dreams. Take me for instance. I only remember my dreams when I drink a lot of orange juice before I go to bed and they’re always the craziest dreams. Like one night, I had a whole mess of orange juice before I went to bed and I had this weird dream where this Nazi chick… like real Nazi… brownshirt and everything is barking at me in German to shave my head and then when I woke up all the sheets were ripped off my bed and my shorts were around my ankles and I was handcuffed to the wall. That’s a dream I don’t want to come true. So if you dream about someday marrying a Harvard doctor and having like 8 of his babies and someday you do marry a Harvard doctor and have 8 of his babies, keep it to yourself. Don’t be an asshole. I’d love to someday marry a Harvard doctor and have 8 of his babies but I’m stuck with some Nazi chick making me shave my head. We’re not all born with silver spoons in our ass so lay off.

Post Christmas

2004-12-30T13:43:00.000-08:00

I received a bunch of gift certificates and bought a whole bunch of cds.
The following is a list of cds that I bought with my gift certificates.

Muse Absolution
The Faint Wet From Birth
The Postal Service Give Up
Rilo Kiley More Adventurous
The Killers Hot Fuss
Murder by Death Who Will Survive and What Will Be Left of Them?
The Shins Oh, Inverted World
The Arcade Fire Funeral
Son, Ambulance Key

This post is really just an empty jesture. I'm on a self-imposed creative vacation (save for 5 mins last week at the G and S show and a sketch there tonight). Starting New Year's Day (or there abouts), I'm gonna crack down on the funny.

Sean New Year Writing Excersice Routine
Two Hundred Words of Fiction/Anecdote.
Three Political/News/Pop Culture Jokes
One Sketch/Character Idea

The good stuff I will put up here. Keep reading.

End of the Year Pop Culture Smores Gus Bored

2004-12-22T13:24:00.000-08:00

Top Ten Albums of 2004
Green Day American Idiot
Say Anything ...is a real boy
Modest Mouse Good News For People Who Like Bad News
The Zutons Who Killed...
The Good Life Album of the Year
My Chemical Romance Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge
I Can Make A Mess Like Nobody's Business Self-Titled
Franz Ferdinand Self-Titled
The Early November The Room's Too Cold
Coheed and Cambria Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3

Best Movie of 2004
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Best Movie of 2004 that wasn't Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
The Incredibles

Other Good Movies of 2004
Team America: World Police
Hellboy
Mean Girls
SpiderMan 2
Kill Bill 2
Mystic River
Big Fish
Jersey Girl (I know everyone hated it)

Best Double Feature of 2004 featuring Jesus
Saved!
The Passion of the Christ

Most Boring Movie of 2004 about Sex
Kinsey

Most Pointless Remake
The Manchurian Candidate

The Most Unintentionally Hilarious Movie 0f 2004
The Butterfly Effect

The Worst Movie of 2004
The Butterfly Effect

So sit on that, jerks.

The World Series

2004-11-14T10:34:00.000-08:00

I put off talking about the Red Sox winning the World Series for long enough. Being in New York, it was great to see Boston shine. At least five times a day during the ALCS, someone on the street would go out of their way to scream "Who's Your Daddy?" just because I had a Sox hat on. And I never waivered. I wore my Sox hat. I somehow snuck myself into the Riveira Cafe during Sox/Yankees Game 6 and celebrated with 500 crazed Sox fans in the downtown Manhattan. I got swept away. I never cared about baseball and all of the sudden I was caring more about baseball than personal hygiene (It's true. I haven't cut my hair since probably June and rarely shave anymore.)

But I'm worried. Now that the Sox have won the World Series, where do we go from here? Winning the World Series is the athletic equivalent of walking on the moon. It's the ultimate accomplishment. But think about it. What did all those astronauts do after they walked on the moon? That's right. Nothing. They start drinking and beating their wives and did a whole lot of nothing good. And who could blame them? What could you ever possibly do in your life that would top walking on the fucking moon? You can't go back and work at a car dealership or in a Hostess factory cause you walked on the moon. The only thing you can do to keep from bottoming out is to continue to walk on the moon. That's what the Yankees did. They walked on the moon and said, "This is fucking awesome" and went back 26 times.

I don't think Red Sox Nation is prepared to walk on the moon. We're Apollo 13. We're always on our way to the moon and something always goes wrong. No matter how many times y ou watch that movie, something always goes wrong. Look at Jim Lovell. He never walked on the moon and he turned out all right. He became a senator, something somebody could respect. Red Sox Nation... we could have been senators!

But... then again... I guess Boston doesn't really want to be Senators. I mean look at our two senators. One of them tried desperately to switch jobs and failed miserably and the other is Ted Kennedy... and let's be honest. Nobody wants to be Ted Kennedy.

The Red Sox won and Red Sox Nation has a taste for victory and if the Red Sox don't continue to deliver victory, we're fucked. Or maybe not. If ever there was a city that represented womanizing drunks, it'd be Boston.

So cheers to us, Boston! Get ready for some good old fashioned drunken spousal abuse if the Red Sox don't continue to walk on the moon and just remember.... The Red Sox repped Boston better than John Kerry! We're only 50% loser now!

Matsui is indeed ugly.

2004-11-06T14:47:00.000-08:00

Yes. That is the signature of the manager of the 2004 World Champion Red Sox, Mr. Terry Francona.

Election Day Eve

2004-11-01T17:41:00.000-08:00

Dear friends,
I am writing this to inform you that I, like many Americans, will not be going to the polls tomorrow. That is because I am currently living in a state where I am not registered to vote and I will not be able to return to my state of registration to vote. I also did not file for an absentee ballot.

Does this make me a lousy American? Maybe. But unwilling to decide between two pieces of poop, I'm sitting this one out. Now, please know, this is not out of apathy. It is not an apathetic action. It was a choice. I looked at both sides and realized that both candidates are kind of sucky. I don't think either is going to do a good job. So... I abstain.

"But Sean... every vote counts!"

Well... yes... and no. You see, friends, I, like most of you, hail from the great state... err... commonwealth of Massachusetts. And as you and I both know, there is no fucking way in hell that a democratic senator from Massachusetts running for president of the united states is ever going to lose the state of Massachusetts. It's impossible. Even if I was going to vote for Bush (which I'm not- I'm not voting), my vote would just be compiled into a mass electoral vote which will undoubtedly be for John Kerry. Ah, democracy.

Also, if you happen to read this, P-Diddy, I hate you.
Yes. I hate you, P-Diddy.
"Vote or Die"?
Really?
Die?
I know South Park already adequately addressed P-Diddy and "Vote or Die" but I just think it's phenomenally retarded that P-Diddy have any sort of platform to sway millions of young people. Do you realize how dangerous "Vote or Die" is? Do you realize that if P-Diddy went on TV and said, "Sew or Die" or "Bowl or Die," sewing shops would run out of thread and bowling alleys would be filled with people 24 hours a day. I knew a kid named Jason Chamberlain who would spend $150 on a pair of sneakers if some celebrity was endorsing them and voting's free. You don't have to spend any money to vote. If Jason Chamberlain would spend $150 on a pair of sneaker cause P-Diddy said to, he sure as shit would spend $0 voting for the person P-Diddy wants.

And why, P-Diddy, do you operate under the pretense that you don't care who young people are voting for so long as they vote? I know I'm not the only one who sees this for the crock of shit that it is. P-Diddy is for John Kerry. Vote or Die. Vote = Kerry, Die = Bush. That's really what you're saying, P. Just admit that you would rather someone thinking about voting for Bush, stay home on election day. You don't want Bush. Fine. Say it. Say, "I'm for John Kerry." But interrupt the Real World/Road Rules Challenge with your bullshit message of "Vote or Die."

It's not even an effective slogan. It's weak. How confident are that Bush has already won if you give kids two choices: vote or death. How bout "Vote or Get Cancer." At least then you're being less vague about how you'll die. If not voting gave me cancer, I'd vote a thousand times. I don't want cancer.
I just think it's wrong that P-Diddy has probably a quarter of a million votes and I don't even think he knows why he wants Kerry.

And before I finish and label this another right-wing rant, please note that it is not a right-wing rant. If I were someone who would make right-wing rants, I'd probably be voting, right? I'm just saying how I feel. The electoral process is very important and I hope anyone who doesn't vote can justify to themselves why they are not voting. And if you want to attack me, just think about this: at least, I didn't vote for the other guy : )

Game 2

2004-10-14T19:46:00.000-07:00

I was fortunate/unfortunate enough to get tickets to Game 2 of the ALCS at Yankee Stadium. Now, even though I've shown less than a passing interest toward baseball in the past, the Boston Red Sox are representative of home and being away from home, I've sort of latched onto them. Sure, I can talk about baseball just as well as I can about grocery shopping and astro physics but I usually only end up talking baseball with a bunch of lazy, child-molesting Yankee fans so it doesn't really matter that I don't know shit about baseball cause I always resort back to the Yankees Suck arguement. (All right, even I'll admit that it's unfair to call all Yankee fans lazy and also child molestors but let's just say that I wouldn't leave my imaginary child with ole Grabby McYanks Fan. That's all I'm saying.) And yes, this ESSAY will be filled with all sorts of unsubstantiated generalizations that have less to do with logic and validity as they do with humor and vulgarity. But I guess that's part of the fun of being a Red Sox fan (see? i've already started avoiding logic, validity, and even grammar.)

I went to Game 2 Yankee Stadium and felt about as welcome as Matlock at the Nuremburg Trials (You see, Matlock was a defense lawyer and the Nuremburg Trials were for Nazis and well...) There really is nothing more crushing than a Red Sox defeat at Yankee Stadium. It's one of those things where you just want to cry because it always feels like we're the sweet and innocent ugly monster toys from the hit film Small Soldiers and the Yankees are the shitty, evil Tommy Lee Jones toys. (Metaphors that don't make sense? I's gots two.)

I often argue with Yankees fans that they've won enough championships already. And since I only talk to people under 25 (It's a cool Teen People thing), they always say the same thing. "You know? The Red Sox won a whole bunch of World Series before 1918..." Before 1918? Excuse me if I find it difficult to take pride in championships my team won before women earned the right to vote (Bitches, I looked it up. Amendment 19 added in 1920. This analogy is sticking.) And how many teams were there before 1918? 6? (I didn't look this up.) Sweet. Not a real impressive dynasty when you're beating 6 teams with guys named Honus and Hopsworth in the starting lineups. Hell, black people couldn't even watch baseball back then without being blinded (Made up fact- just cause it's made up doesn't stop it from being fact.) "Hooray! Con-grat-ul-ations, champs! You won the baseball contest. Let's celebrate by going to the ole brewhouse and having us a round of alcoholic beverages and cholera."

26 world series titles! "But I was only alive for four of them" If you've been alive for 4 World Series titles, that's four more than any Red Sox fan has been alive for cause the Red Sox haven't won since 1918. Even if you could find somebody who remembers 1918, they're old! Everything they say is immediately suspect.

So... what did we learn from all of this?
Answer.... absolutely nothing. Because that's what Red Sox fans do. They do not learn. That's the only justification I can come up with for why we do this to ourselves each and every year. We're idiots... but good idiots. The kind of idiots that you like to hang out with year. The kind of idiots you like to get hopped up on goofy pills and oppress minorities with. It's Boston. If they ever won the world series, the whole city would burn to the ground.

Welcome to the W.H., bitch

2004-10-02T21:57:00.000-07:00

I am a pop culture whore. I read US Weekly, People, Star, the National Enquirer, and any other glossy publication that is published with the sole purpose and objective of exposing the eating habits of celebrities. Granted, I have to read all these magazines for work-related purposes but what's stopping me from enjoying my work a little? I am a pop culture whore.

That being said, I watch very little network television. Sure, I could rattle off mundane trivia about the stars of One Tree Hill or According to Jim (Little known fact about Jim Belushi: He's not the talented one in his family). I could list the members of the cast, tell you who they're dating, and if pressed, probably tell you whether they enjoy chocolate or vanilla cake. Mmm cake.

But I can't tell you the plots or themes expressed in these 30 minute farces or 60 minute tragedies because I watch very little network television. For instance, I have never seen The O.C. (That's not entirely true- I have seen it but me and SG making fun of Traub-e for seriously watching The O.C. doesn't really count). Even though I have no knowledge of The O.C. or the nuances of the characters, I can say, with a 99.9 % guarentee, that it would be a completely different show if it took place in my current residence, the Washington Heights neighborhood of Manhattan. For starters, we'd probably have to change the name. The O and the C in The O.C. stand for Orange and County, respectively, and we're setting the show in Washington Heights so I think we would be perfectly justified in changing the title to The W.H. (the W standing in for Washington and the H for Heights).

So, change in title out of the way, now it's time for characters and situations. First of all, we can cut all that surfing that those O.C. kids seem to enjoy cause ain't nobody surfing in the Hudson River. The next thing to go is all the rich, white kids cause, well, this is The W.H., not The U.W.S. or The L.E.V. All the rich, white kids will be replaced by Spanish and African American youths, Spanish and African American old people, and a half dozen fresh from college white kids working low paying jobs who only moved to the W.H. to prove that the four years they spent earning a Communications degree from a $40,000 a year institution of higher learning wasn't just in vain. So, we've got a cast of characters and a location. Now all we need is a situation.

In the first episode, we meet all the college white kids. They all become the best of friends and go to trendy college parties at Columbia or NYU but at the end of the night, they all board the 1, 9, A, C, B, or D trains but mostly the 1 or the 9 cause they probably live off Broadway but then again they might take the A or the C cause they'll be done in the Village doing coke and taking E but then again again the B and the D are also equally reliable. Regardless, they get on a train and go home. And then at the end of each episode, the college white kids walk uncomfortably fast as they try to avoid any contact with the Spanish and African American youths and the Spanish and African America old people.

So let's break down this three act hour dramedy.
Act One (20 mins)- The kids from The W.H. do lots of drugs downtown.
Act Two (30 mins)- The kids from The W.H. try and figure out what train would be the most convient to transport them back to the W.H.
Act Three (10 mins)- The kids from the W.H. sprint walk back to their apartments, avoiding eye contact, and locking the 17 locks they installed on their door.

But most importantly, at the end of every episode, a different character will walk by a magical homeless guy asking for change. The homeless gentlement will press the character for change and when no change is given, the homeless fellow will mutter under his breath, "Welcome to the W.H., motherfucker." Of course, The W.H. would only play on network television so the fucker would be bleeped out but the audience would understand that the bleeped out word was fucker because the collective consciousness of America understands that fucker is the appropriate expletive to follow mother.

So there you have it. I think we might have a hit on our hands. I'm gonna send my treatment to the Writer's Guild toot sweet*

*toot sweet is French for immediately. Well, that's not how you spell toot sweet but whatever. It's my website. You can take your French and shove it, friend**

**We're not really friends.***

***Yes we are. ****

****No. We are not.

Cross stitch

2004-09-29T18:15:00.000-07:00

As many of you loyal readers of www.sean-sullivan.com may be aware, I have found myself a very cushy internship for the fall semester. Now, I tell you this not to remind you loyal readers of www.sean-sullivan.com of how awful your lives are in comparison to mine, but as an introduction to new readers (of which there are literally none a day) for the piece I present you with today. Enjoy.

My internship is grandiose but not because I have people like Jim Belushi! walk by me without any acknowledgement. My internship is grandiose because I get to spend the entire day doing crossword puzzles. Now, some of your sarcasm meters might be alerting right about now but let me assure you that they are busted and you should return them to Radio Shack as soon as possible in order to get a full refund before the Radio Shack return policy fucks you hard. "But my sarcasm meter is guaranteed to work. It says so on the box!" Well, all I have to say is it looks like the box was wrong cause I love crossword puzzles.

Working at Late Night with Bonan O'Crien is great cause they get like 400 different newspapers delivered everyday. I don't know what they could possibly do with 400 different newspapers everyday but they get them. Everyday. 500. And you know what that means, right? 500 crossword puzzles! USA Today, The New York Post, The Daily News, The New York Times, Newsday, News News, Newsies' News, New News, and News. That's a lot of crossword puzzles which means I have to get there early if I'm going to get through them all.

But Sean, doesn't it get boring?

Do you want to get punched in the face? Cause that could be arranged. Of course, it doesn't get boring. Did you miss the part of this post where I said, "I love crossword puzzles." I think they are the most awesome things ever and if they were alive, I would kill them just so no other person could ever taint them. That's love. And sure, I get a wrong answer every now and then but you know what I say when I get a wrong answer, don't you? You don't? Well, I'll tell you...

"When I find that an answer I put doesn't fit, I throw that crossword away because that puzzle is wrong cause I never get a wrong answer. It's not my fault if they puzzle doesn't provide me with enough spaces for the right answer. That's the puzzle's fault. It's a faulty puzzle. When you work in an office and somebody doesn't do their job right, what do you do? That's right. Fire them. That's what I do with my faulty crossword puzzles. I fire them. I rip them up and throw them in the trash. That's right. The trash. I don't recycle faulty crossword puzzles cause I don't want them getting recycled and sucking up some future crossword puzzles, entering them into a neverending cycle of fault and suck. It may sound cruel but it's in the interest of the puzzle. You wouldn't want a really stupid animal to continue to produce really stupid animals, would you? That's why you neuter them. That's what I'm doing to crossword puzzles. I'm neutering them. I neuter faulty crossword puzzles and I do it proudly."

That's what I say every single time I find a crossword puzzle that doesn't want to agree with the answers I plug into it. I wish I hadn't made it so long, though, cause I tend to find that every crossword puzzle is faulty. Why can't a crossword puzzle for once not be faulty and let me put "whore baby" in the four spaces for the down clue, "DeGeneres sitcom"

Mrs. Sarafoglou saw phones in the hallway

2004-09-28T18:13:00.000-07:00

During Mrs. Sarafoglou's Freshman English class, I was taught that all external human conflict could be neatly catergorized into three neat categories: Man vs Man, Man vs Nature, Man vs Machine. For example, a conflict between a man and a robot would fall under Man vs Machine, a conflict between a man and a hurricane or alligator under Man vs Nature, and conflict between a man and another man, Man vs Man. As a high school Freshman, I took this primitive classification system as Gospel and truly believed that these three classifications encompassed all potential external human conflicts.

But as a Senior in COLLEGE!, I know that Mrs. Sarafoglou was just a drunken bitch. How could she possibly know every possible conflict would only be susceptible to these three titles? So in order to prove Sarafoglou as the booze hound we once believed, I've compiled a list of conflicts that defy her tertiary classifications. Enjoy.

Man vs Dracula (A Vampire is not natural and being undead, Dracula cannot be considered a man)
Man vs a Man with a Robotic Beaver for an arm
Man vs Yo-yos (There is nothing natural or mechanical about a yo-yo... and no... the yo-yo is not being wielded by a man. It's acting of it's own volition)
Man vs Car driving Dinosaurs with Uzis
Man vs Dinosaur driving Cars with Uzis
Man vs Uzis driving Car Dinosaurs
Man vs Woman (Mrs. Sarafoglou was nothing if not a misogynist)
Man vs Tree with a Gun

Report

2004-09-25T21:18:00.000-07:00

There is something alternatively soothing and scary about hearing Radiohead's The Bends in the alley next to your apartment when you live in a predominantly Hispanic and African-American neighborhood.

Hellowdy

2004-09-25T14:16:00.000-07:00

If in the course of reading this, you feel compelled to comment, then by all means, please comment. If in the course of reading this, you feel compelled to stop reading, then by all means, stop reading. If in the course of reading this, your nose begins to bleed, then by all means, wipe away the blood that will surely crust on your upper lip. If in the course of reading this, you fall asleep, then by all means, please enjoy your selective slumber. If in the course of reading this, you feel that your I.Q. may have dropped a number of points, then by all means, penguin chap fart. If in the course of reading this, you feel compelled to call me, then by all means, look up my phone number in some sort of phone directory or contact the operator and call me. If in the course of reading this, you feel like punching me in the face, then by all means, refrain from doing so. If in the course of reading this, you have to use the bathroom for urinating or defacating, then by all means, get up and go to the bathroom. If in the course of reading this, something enters your eye and permanetly blinds, then by all means, it doesn't matter what I right nor does it matter that I spelled write "right" because you have been blinded by something entering your eye. If in the course of reading this, you are stung by a bee, then by all means, take that as a sign that God doesn't want that bee to live anymore. If in the course of reading this, you discover a cure for cancer, by all means, share it with scientists instead of cancer patients, who will read it and not necessarily know what to do with it unless that cancer patient also happens to be a scientist. If in the course of reading this, you want to give me a high paying job and a lofty, spacious apartment overlooking an aquarium of seagulls, then by all means, do so immediately. If in the course of reading this, you feel like you have learned anything at all, then by all means, overdose on sleeping pills.

First Update Since Forever Ago

2004-09-13T19:37:00.000-07:00

I will tell you this...

I bought a Boston Red Sox hat before I moved to New York because I thought I could be the edgy outsider. Well... it's difficult to be the edgy outsider when you live a mile from Yankee Stadium. Yeah. Also, it's probably in my best interest to not draw any additional attention that my whiteboy status hasn't already taken care of. I'm not saying I live in an unsafe neighborhood. I'm just saying that it's not exactly the type of neighborhood where you want to go jogging at night, which is fortuitous cause I'm not the kind of guy who wants to go jogging at all. So, yeah. I usually keep my Red Sox hat hidden until I get on the train to Midtown (or Whitetown to you racists).

The funny thing is that I don't even really like baseball all that much.

The best part of New York is that the Subways never shut down. Not like in Boston where all the trains turn into pumpkins at 12:30.

I went to Coney Island and rode the Cyclone. It was awesome. We went to the Coney Island Side Show which wasn't as awesome.

I met Conan O'Brien and saw David Cross do stand-up in the same day. I also saw Eugene Mirman, Slovin and Allen, Jon Benjamin, Mike Birbiglia, and Jon Glaser in the same show.

I paid $5 to do an open mic in the basement of a Mexican food restaurant to 5 apathetic comics and 0 audience. Surprisingly, it was still much better than the Picadilly Pub in Dedham.

More adventures to come.

2004-08-01T20:37:00.000-07:00

I think I might have a gambling problem.....
.... yeah. I keep losing.

I only bring the A game out for you www.sean-sullivan.com

Roman eyb eyb

2004-07-31T19:41:00.000-07:00

I'm not the biggest baseball fan. I just don't have the attention span but what a week for the Red Sox, huh? Seriously, what was ARod gonna do against a guy in battle armor? Sure, Variteck isn't a Mechwarrior but he's got a chest plate, shin guards, and a face mask. The only way ARod would've won that is if he reached down into his itchy jockstrap and pulled out that fat wad of cash he keeps tucked behind his balls at all time to constantly remind himself that he's a filthy whore, and thrown a million dollars at Variteck. And was anybody else disappointed that David Ortiz didn't bite somebody? The guy is 300 pounds heavier than Pedro Cerrano but I'd bet that Ortiz could sacrifice just as many chickens pre-game. Jobu certainly would be happy. Unless Kevin Millar got ahold of them chickens cause as we all know from those subpar KFC commercials that Millar loves chicken. I'm no film student but could those commercials look any more amateurish?

And then they traded Nomar... which was unexpected. Now even though I could better explain how Rodgers and Hammerstein revolutionized modern American musical theater, I think this is good. It's about time the Red Sox took a page out of Bellicheck's playbook. So goodbye, Nomar. The person I really feel bad for is Theo Epstein or as I like to call him, Pontius Pilate. Just wash your hands, guy. Just wash your hands.

Comedy Contest in Quincy

2004-07-22T17:18:00.000-07:00

Comedy Contest in Quincy
As reported by Billy

Quincy, MA- The varsity Club, a quaint little bar on Independence Ave, was turned into the Sodomy Society on Wends. night as nine comics, one host, and a booker were figuratively raped by an unapologetically apathetic audience that was as uncaring as it was inattentive. Comedian Sean Sullivan described the situation onstage as being "more awkward than the time my uncle raped me."
The night got off to a bad start when booker Steve Leach, a most gentlemanly fellow, who had planned a prompt 9 o'clock start for his $50 Comedy Contest, was told by the owner of the bar, one Mr. Giant-Jackass-Who-Watched-Last-Comic-Standing-And-Decided-To-Cash-In-On-The-General-Public's-Newfound-Love-Of-Comedy-And-Also-Contests-Containing-Comedy, decreed that the show could start but that the volume of the baseball game would stay at full. As the comics waited for the Red Sox to finish floundering, it would seem that each comic individually decided that this was going to a comic slaughterhouse and that each comic would rather act as a Kamikaze pilot and bring the entire room down with them.
As Meathead Nation filled the bar, the muscleheads and their plastic girlfriends could not be bothered to stop looking in the mirror in order to focus on the nine comics, who were all about to be executed.
As the room began to smell of herpes, silicone, and creatin, Mike Whittman took the mic and immediately began sniping at a crowd that wouldn't listen. Mike established a hostile relationship from the onset. It must be reiterated that the comics at this show would have had an easier time performing standup comedy at the Nuremburg Trials.
Broken but not beaten, each comic did their 8-10 mins, though not exactly as they may have originally intended. Anthony Spencer repeated the Hail Mary over and over again for 5 mins to the delight of the three cognizant audience members. Sean Sullivan started immediately stripping away his clothes, leaving only his wife beater and jeans, which would have been removed if he would have remembered whether his boxer shorts had a button on the front.
The show came to a close and Owen Bowness, a comic who describes himself as "Mel Gibson with AIDS" was announced the victor. The tone among the comics was funereal to say the least, as each mourned their dignity and nursed their bleeding anuses from the raping that just occurred.

Billy is a nine year old roaming reporter for the imaginary press

The One Where I Only Write Three Words

2004-07-14T14:52:00.000-07:00

This is it.

Weekend Box Office

2004-07-06T15:13:00.000-07:00

So... just like every other blog in the entire world, I'm going to spin my own whimsy over this weekends top 10 films at the Box Office. It's not original but nothing ever is...

1. Spiderman 2 - This movie so completely erased the first one, it shall be forever know as Spiderman and we can all forget how bad Macy Gray lamed up the first one.

2. Fahrenheit 911 - I didn't see it cause... well... I don't care. There. I said it. I don't care. If you want to see a big, opinionated jackass, you should look up above at my schedule and follow me around in a hippie van.

3. White Chicks - I'd rather see "Garfield."

4. Dodgeball - I haven't seen this one either but Ben Stiller was already mediocre as this character in "Heavyweights."

5. The Notebook - Zzzzzzzzzzz

6. The Terminal - Tom Hanks plays Balki from Perfect Strangers and Peter Scolari plays with Mark Linn-Baker.

7. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban - Seeing as how the second Harry Potter was exactly the same as the first Harry Potter, I will not be seeing the third Harry Potter.

8. Shrek 2 - What's the message from Shrek? It's not that love is blind. It's that love isn't blind and in order for love to work, one person has to change completely into an ogre and live in a swamp. That's not a message I want my imaginary kids seeing. Thus...

9. Garfield - See my blurb on "White Chicks" above and then shoot me in the face.

10. Two Brothers - Movies about Tigers are as exciting as movies about people called "The Notebook."

Now... stay tuned, loyal readers as I can only improve. It's hard not to top this shit.

Incubus in Providence

2004-07-02T21:19:00.000-07:00

I'll edit this later to fill in the details of the fucked weather and other mundane minutiae of a night nobody cares to hear about from me.

Sparta was great. Lot of new songs.

Incubus: Set list. I know the first and last songs. The rest won't be in order.

Megalomaniac (first song), Nice to Know You, Make Yourself, Drive (a tripped out awesome version of arguably the band's lamest song- the live piano drive ruled) CROWDED ELEVATOR!, Idiot Box, Vitamin, Circles, Wish You were Here, Just a Phase, A Crow Left of the Murder, Talk Shows on Mute, Sick Sad Little World, Pistola, Priceless, Made For TV Movie, Here in my Room, ENCORE: Something, BLACK HOLE SUN BY MOTHERFUCKING SOUNDGARDEN!, and THe Warmth

Two Nights, 10 Mins of Comedy

2004-07-02T05:35:00.000-07:00

Wends night, me, hags, and steves went to the Emerald Isle on Dot Ave in Dorchester for a little open mic action. I did five minutes of mostly new stuff with a shitty joke about reece witherspoon thrown at the end for good measure. The crowd was small but responsive. Check Robbie Roadsteamer's Website. He's crazily hilarious or hilariously crazy.

Thurs night, me and hags (who are dating) went to the great and secret show. For some lapse of reason, dwalsh asked me to do five minutes. I did. The G&S crowds are great cause they either laugh at everything or nothing. Last night, they weren't gonna laugh unless you earned it which was great cause I had to work harder. I'm so lame. If this blog were a person, it'd have a terminal disease but alas, this blog is me and I'm fine.

Day One of the War with www.stephenwilkinson.net

2004-06-30T15:28:00.000-07:00

Day one: No official casualties yet. Steve has posted a responce which you can read at the heathen's site www.stephenwilkinson.net. Apparently, that coward can't fight his battles alone so he's latched onto emo poster boy, Brandon Hagan's Live Journal. Really, Steve? A Live Journal? Why bother? I don't think you're going to need anything holding you back, bitch, cause I'm coming full force. If I have to take down an Elvish Emo Kid, that's cool. I was gonna do that anyway.

This war has just begun.

A Declaration...

2004-06-29T20:00:00.000-07:00

My first act as operator of the newly restored blog of Stand Up Comedian Sean Sullivan is to officially, openly, and obstensibly (i'm not sure that means but it sounds important and let's be honest, you don't know what it means or how to use it either so...) declare an official, open, and obstensive war on www.stephenwilkinson.net

There will be many casualties in this war and it will not be an easy victory. Don't get me wrong, it'll be a victory for www.sean-sullivan.com, it just won't be easy.
My enemy is cunning man. He goes to Harvard. I go to UMass Amherst.
Advantage: Steve.
But I'm from the mean streets of Brockton. My enemy is also from Brockton but he comes from the lame streets.
Advantage: Sean.
His choice of weapon will most likely be optic blast mixed with a little telekinesis. I shall opt for retractable adamantium claws and super quick healing powers.
Advantage: Draw.

So stay tuned, loyal readers, as in the coming weeks... nay... months... nay... years, you shall expect to hear much rejoicing from the battlefields of cyberspace as www.sean-sullivan.com spills the blood of www.stephenwilkinson.net all over the digital heartland.

As sure as the Sun rises in the somewhere and sets somewhere else, Stand Up Comedian Sean Sullivan will be victorious.

Take note, Ken Burns.

The Second Very First Post

2004-06-29T17:52:00.000-07:00

I'm going to write in my blog more often that I have in the past. I'm going to write in my blog more often that I have in the past. I'm going to write in my blog more often that I have in the past. I'm going to write in my blog more often that I have in the past. I'm going to write in my blog more often that I have in the past. I'm going to write in my blog more often that I have in the past. I'm going to write in my blog more often that I have in the past. I'm going to write in my blog more often that I have in the past. I'm going to write in my blog more often that I have in the past. I'm going to write in my blog more often that I have in the past. I'm going to write in my blog more often that I have in the past. I'm going to write in my blog more often that I have in the past. I'm going to write in my blog more often that I have in the past. I'm going to write in my blog more often that I have in the past. I'm going to write in my blog more often that I have in the past. I'm going to write in my blog more often that I have in the past. I'm going to write in my blog more often that I have in the past. I'm going to write in my blog more often that I have in the past.