Sarah Silverman: "Nothing’s more attractive than an unending monologue about your shortcomings."
Carolyn Hax: "Sometimes surrendering to the awful is more useful than fighting it."
Graham Joyce: "why can’t our job here on earth be simply to inspire each other?"
Dan Harmon: "I believe in magic. I believe in mythology. I believe in shamanism. I believe that spells can be cast and I believe that random things coalesce and reveal themselves to be part of a plan we don’t control, you know."
Nora Ephron: "Never turn down a front-row seat for human folly."
McAlvie "The ultimate downfall of modern civilization won't be war; it'll be Twitter and Facebook."
Jenny Zhang: "A lot of writers swear by routine, but I swear by chaos. There’s enough fucking routine in my life. Every day I have to brush my teeth. Every day I have to smile at strangers. Every day I have to worry about money. Every day I want something I can’t have. Every day I find some way to go on! I know that writing every day for an hour would help me tremendously with writer’s block, but I also know that I need an element of wildness in my writing. I need to know that writing is something I do because it sets me free. It makes me feel golden with confidence. It gives me the gift of gab. I feel like a god. I feel like an entertainer. So write when you damn well please."
Joe Queenan: "If you have read 6,000 books in your lifetime, or even 600, it's probably because at some level you find "reality" a bit of a disappointment. People in the 19th century fell in love with "Ivanhoe" and "The Count of Monte Cristo" because they loathed the age they were living through. Women in our own era read "Pride and Prejudice" and "Jane Eyre" and even "The Bridges of Madison County"—a dimwit, hayseed reworking of "Madame Bovary"—because they imagine how much happier they would be if their husbands did not spend quite so much time with their drunken, illiterate golf buddies down at Myrtle Beach. A blind bigamist nobleman with a ruined castle and an insane, incinerated first wife beats those losers any day of the week. Blind, two-timing noblemen never wear belted shorts."
LogicalDash: "Nobody of any age should have to fend off sexual partners. That such defense is assumed as a part of the cost of adult courtship is suggestive of some more fundamental problem than age difference and its effect on consensuality."
Keith Richards: "I had to invent the job, you know," he said, earlier. "There wasn't a sign in the shop window, saying, "Wanted: Keith Richards."
Caitlin Moran: "As I started to reassess my writing style, I thought about what I liked doing--what gave me satisfaction--and realized the primary one was just... pointing at things. Pointing out things I liked, and showing them to other people--like a mum shouting, "Look! Moo-cows!" as a train rushes past a farm. I liked pointing at things, and I liked being reasonable and polite about stuff. Or silly. Silly was very, very good. No one ever got hurt by silly.
Best of all was being pointedly silly about serious things: politics, repression, bigotry. Too many commentators are quick to accuse their enemies of being evil. It's far, far more effective to point out that they're acting like idiots, instead. I was up for idiot-revealing.
"I am just going to be polite and silly, and point at cool things," I decided. "When I started writing, I would have killed to have one thing to write about. Now, I have three. Politeness and silliness, and pointing. That's enough."
Carolyn Hax: "Unless 15 years’ worth of mail has misled me, no one has ever found love through complaining about the lack of it, and no lonely person has ever felt better for hearing, “You just haven’t found the right person yet.”
David Simon: "Change is a motherfucker when you run from it."
Joe Queenan: "People who read an enormous number of books are basically dissatisfied with the way things are going on this planet. And I think, in a way, people read for the same reason that kids play video games ... they like that world better. It works better, it's more exciting, and it usually has a more satisfactory ending."
Dan Savage: "There isn't someone for everyone. Some of us do wind up alone, and that just fucking sucks and sometimes that stings, and you don't know if you're one of those people who's going to wind up alone until you die alone....So you kind of have to live in hope and build a life for yourself that's rewarding and fun, has friends and pleasure in it, whether you're alone or not."
the painkiller: "I will not be tagged, pinned, circled, liked, tweeted, retweeted or numbered."
Steve Jobs: "Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.
Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.”
Apple: "Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They’re not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do."
Miss Manners: "Please do not -- repeat, not -- make a hostile approach to knitters. Have you not noticed that they are armed with long, pointy sticks?"
Stephen Tobolowsky: "And of course, nothing is what I figured on in my life. That seems to be a recurring theme."
James Bulls: "When you find yourself walking a true path, you will know it because you will want to walk it no matter the burning Sun, freezing sleet, torrential rain, and treacherous ground. The risks become no less and the journey as always exhausts you, but your desire to brave the challenges never diminishes."
Amy Argetsinger: "Twitter is a disease, plain and simple. It makes people insane. A decade from now I expect the CDC and FDA will be issuing warnings."
Cary Tennis: "You don't have to "move on" either. Not until you're ready. People say, Oh, you should be grateful. They say, Oh, it's time for you to move on. I'm like, What are you, a cop with a nightstick? I'll move on when I'm done playing the blues on my harmonica, thank you very much."
Mark Morford: "It is 2011 and here is what we know: Reality is fluid, fact is malleable, cause and effect completely uncertain. We know what we don't know, but we also know the opposite."
Charlie Jane Anders: "Just remember, if you flinch from your destiny, you'll never achieve your true greatness — you didn't choose to be chosen, but being chosen means you have to choose."
Roger Ebert: "To put it bluntly, I believe the world is patriarchal because men are bigger and stronger than women, and can beat them up."
Myca: "Jesus is not the reason for the season, and there's no way I need to act like he is. Christmas is a stolen tradition. There's no reason we can't steal it back."
Lady Gaga: "I hate the holidays! I'm alone and miserable, you fucking dumb bit of toy!"
Dianna Agron: "I am trying to live my life with a sharpie marker approach. You can’t erase the strokes you’ve made, but each step is much bolder and more deliberate."
John Mayer: "It occurred to me that since the invocation of Twitter, nobody who has participated in it has created any lasting art. And yes! Yours truly is included in that roundup as well. Let me make sure that statement is as absolute and irrevocable as possible by buzzing your tower one more time: no artwork created by someone with a healthy grasp of social media thus far has proven to be anything other than disposable."
Vanessa, Something Positive: "I like 'em crazy. You hear insane rants, I hear a reminder that the sex is interesting. Oooh! Hear that? Tonight's gonna tingle."
Anonymous: “Your problem is that you want to be an artist. What you need to be is an artisan.”
Sugar: "Ask better questions, sweet pea. The fuck is your life. Answer it."
Wide Lawns: "Often very odd things happen to me. Usually they are not my fault and mostly beyond my control."
Anonymous reporter: “When weird shit happens around here, weird shit really happens around here.”
Anne Johnson: "Today some stranger sent me an email that said, "You are a nut case." Well, I must admit this never would have occurred to me. Everyone else is a nut case. I'm the sane one. I think."
Carl Mayer: "Whenever I start to feel like my life isn’t where I want it to be, “Cops” is there to put everything into perspective. Yeah, I haven’t made all the right moves over the last 34 years, but I’m not hiding from the police under a kiddie pool, either."
John Scalzi: "In retrospect, it’s a little weird to think that my entire future was falling into place as I obliviously tucked into the El Presidente chimichanga platter, but of course, that’s life for you — the most important days of your existence don’t always announce themselves in obvious ways."
First, I must record Ruby’s entire day on a video application “to get a baseline of what we’re dealing with,” Liles instructs. I come home the next evening and watch in horror at just how stressed my dog is. She makes a heart-wrenching noise as she appears to be searching for me – from my bed, to my door, to the kitchen, the couch, then to the door. And repeat. It’s relentless for the entire eight hours I’m gone.
“Stress in dogs, just as in humans, shortens a lifespan,” I hear Liles telling me.
I begin to shut the bathroom door. I begin to take my keys to the garbage chute, put my shoes on and go nowhere, and try as hard as I can to leave Ruby be when she’s content sitting on the floor.
Something amazing happens: It works.
The drywall bits have disappeared, and most times I Skype with her – which happens more often than I should admit – she’s sleeping peacefully on my bed."
Fifty bucks says this lady is nuts. Why? Because seriously, what are the odds that both your dogs' names are her future baby names? Unless you named them after relatives, this does not seem likely. Mallory/Prudie feels similarly. Anyway, if this lady is that crazy/nitpicky/jealous/fight-picking...UGH, I feel sorry for you.
"Emile, honey, before you propose to a woman, you should probably mention the murder thing and also the fact that you have 2 kids, those little details may seem petty to you but women are so wacky they just might want to know these things.
“I killed a dude at 22 and was forced into exile! On a gorgeous tropical island! And I got help from nobody! Except all the native people who I exploited for cheap labor to make my fortune! LOOK AT MY INDIGNITY! LOOK AT IT!”
“I could be in France! Where I’d be crushed under the Nazi regime! Or probably dead! But no! I AM ON A TROPICAL ISLAND PARADISE DEF NOT FUCKING A HOT NURSE HALF MY AGE! WHY IS MY LIFE SO GODDAMNED HARD?!”
I find it interesting that he mentions that he killed a dude way before he mentions that he also has 2 kids.
"When I heard it was called America I just thought that was because America’s kind of a shithole that likes to pretend like it’s better than everybody else when it’s not. At the end it’s just a toilet.”
"I mean, obviously it’s a step up from squat toilets in China. But I don’t do anything different on a gold toilet than a plastic one.”
“I spent two hours in line so I could rub my ass on the gold. I also caught a Pokémon in there"
"There were a lot of dimples in the golden seat. I thought it would be shinier.”
“It compels me to think that I just urinated into something that could have helped many people living in dire poverty or hunger. It could have cured many people of curable diseases, it could have fed a lot of people, it could have maybe taken the pressure off of a lot of working poor."
"This week, Jack and Tanner get to the bottom of the truth about Stacey, and uncover a few truths about themselves along the way. Just kidding! They definitely don't have the emotional intelligence required for any sort of meaningful introspection. They just make dumb jokes instead."
Tanner and Jack travel all the way to Germany, the birthplace of modern Lutheranism, to discuss the thinly veiled religious text that is book five of The Baby-sitter's Club, "Dawn and the Impossible Three." Tanner has a few too many Helles biers and ends up role playing as an adult escort. Things get a little weird.
Ann M. Martin's magic system, as far as we can understand it, is color-based (very similar to Brent Weeks'sLightbringer series), with different magical properties inhering in flowers of different colors. Thus, when old Ben Brewer (Karen Brewer's grandfather) ingests yellow daffodils, he becomes immortal, with the unfortunate side effect of going completely insane and becoming a ghost. Karen Brewer's fear at the wedding that "The dark and light magics will crash" is presumably brought on by the presence of white flowers, which enhance her own white magic, and Morbidda Destiny, whose own dark chrysanthemum-based magic will more than offset this effect.
Although the other BSC books employ the device of the club diary entries to similar effect, this novel is a more explicit nod to the epistolary novels of the 18th century, with Stacey and Mary Anne both presenting their own marginalized viewpoints in the letters they write home to the club from Sea City. Richardson'sPamela and Clarissa are both clear analogues here, concerned as they are with "Boy-Craziness," as is Fanny Burney's Evelina, whose subtitle, "The History of a Young Lady's Entrance Into the World," exactly mirrors Stacey's own situation vis à vis lifeguard Scott.
As previously mentioned, the best route into Dawn's complicated relationship with the Trinitarian God is almost certainly Ricoeur. It's worth adding that Dawn's religiosity feels very high-church and academic in Dawn and the Impossible Three, whileThe Ghost at Dawn's House, concerned as it is with the Holy Ghost, necessarily invokes a more personal God. As such, Habermas may well provide a better point of entry.
Martin's Logan is at once ominous and immensely charming. His slick Louisville accent, his apparent tender concern for Mary Anne, his otherworldly gift for babysitting ... all add up to something quiet and deadly (and in its own way, beautiful) that we somehow can't bring ourselves to look away from – a snake in the grass. This quote is from Milton'sParadise Lost, but you could easily see it as being pulled directly from the opening pages of Logan Likes Mary Anne:
Elizabethan revenge tragedy has its roots in Thomas Kyd's The Spanish Tragedy, arguably the first early modern play that has all the elements we've come to associate with the genre, viz. a character with a serious grievance against a dangerous foe, a play within a play, an angry ghost, and just so much gore, evident in Kristy and the Snobs in the form of all the sick burns and wicked cutdowns between our heroine and the titular snobs.
So much for revenge and justice, but what of death? Do we take comfort in a Heideggerian account, which tells us that we are all always, already being-unto-death? Or can we look to Sartre, who finds ways to humanize and individualize death, ripping some of its mystery and terror from it? It is not, perhaps, in the scope of this particular book, Kristy and the Snobs, to provide answers to these questions, but merely to point out that we are all but grains of sand in a vast desert; drops in an uncaring ocean; dwindling stars in a night sky whose primary characteristic is not light but darkness. RIP, Louie. We will never forget you.
Ways of seeing and knowing the world: Claudia’s cathectic gaze is a key point of this novel, apparent in that she structures the world through her viewfinder. People, including her fellow baby-sitters, are reduced (or, if you prefer, elevated) to mere objects of aesthetic appreciation, a paradigm that is underscored by the structure of the very book we are experiencing, which, in an arch, postmodern gesture from Ann M. Martin, is being created as a gift for the babysitters to give to their parents at the end of their journey.
Stacey is moving out of Stoneybrook, and 4 to 10 new brides of Satan are moving in to take her place, so it's up to two undercover French witch-hunters to eradicate the evil threat looming over the town once and for all. Also, the dolls are in control, and Jack and Tanner make a bet that the Baby Nation is going to have to hold them to, because they're DEFINITELY going to forget.
The mystery of Sabrina Bouvier is one of the enduring riddles of the Sitterverse. Anne M. Martin has never officially weighed in on this, but it is anundeniable fact that Bouvier appears in this book as a 7-year-old pageant queen, and then pops back up in Mary Anne's Makeover #60 as a popular 8th grader with no explanation of how she aged and changed while everyone else stayed the same. Speculations abound. For real. Here is a lovely piece of fan fiction I found on the topic.
It all goes down this week: Claudia loses herself, Logan reveals his true self, Mary Anne finds her faith, The cat-people have taken Louisville, and Jack and Tanner spend WAY too much time talking about 6th century philosopher Anicius Manlius Severinus Boëthius. But that's what you tune in for, right?
This week, Jack and Tanner meet to discuss the very complex mechanical and metaphysical implications of traversing the Planes of Chaos, also known as the Immaterium, from the Warhammer 40k universe, and whether or not the human mind is capable of making sense of a senseless reality where the laws of motion and energy do not apply. But, then we cut all that out, so I guess you'll just have to listen to them talk about The Baby-Sitters Club books instead.
Dawn is forced to choose between the grey purgatory of Stoneybrook and the breathtaking paradise of California. Which is upsetting for Jack and Tanner because they frankly didn't realize they had a choice when they decided to spend every passing moment living, breathing, and dreaming about Stoneybrook. Besides, how can any of us think about leaving when we're still not sure whether Mr. Spier can get it together and tell Dawn's mom how he feels BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE.
The prophecy foretold of one that would unite the tribes. A being born of two worlds... of two clans, who would unite the people under her banner. Will this Mother's Day surprise fulfill the omen and seal the blood pact? Will the Seven become the One? Will Jackie Rodowsky ever find his way back to the present time? Find out this week when Jack and Tanner sit down to discuss "Kristy and the Mother's Day Surprise."
Everybody, in one way or another, is searching for a "Tigger" in their lives – for some people, the Tigger they are searching for is true love, for others, it's success, and for still others, it's a more inscrutable "meaning." In Mary Anne's case, it's her cat. Who went missing. We think Logan stole it."
Called America, the golden throne "offers a wink to the excesses of the art market but also evokes the American dream of opportunity for all — its utility ultimately reminding us of the inescapable physical realities of our shared humanity," the museum wrote.
Cattelan has jokingly termed it the "Guggen-head," according to the museum, and says it is "one-percent art for the ninety-nine percent."
"What better way to say, “F you!” to the terrorists than roasting an 80-year-old with seven girlfriends? I mean, it was really why the terrorists hated us."
I don’t know that the direction of the talent was wrong, but Chevy was just a guy that it turns out very few people liked. The whole idea of a roast is that you show up and you rib someone you love. That was the original idea, and that was certainly the mantra from the Friars: “You only roast the ones you love.” It turns out a lot of the guys and women who worked with Chevy during his SNL days, and I probably shouldn’t say this on the record, but nobody liked the guy. Apparently he had a drug problem, and instead of showing up and roasting, those that did show up just sort of eviscerated him. It was a very uncomfortable event.
Lampanelli: Everyone was bombing, and Chevy Chase was acting like the biggest douchebag in the world. He was literally the opposite of a good roast subject, which is someone who laughs along, pays attention, makes eye contact. Chevy Chase sat there with his stupid sunglasses on and his smug expression and his judgy-ness. I’m like, “Okay, I’m going to act like this little bitch is having the time of his life so I can nail it. This is my first time I’m ever on TV. So whether he likes it or not, I’m going to act like he’s having fun.” I remember, thank God, doing well and going, “Okay, I’m not going to get cut out of this—I hope.”
As you know, everybody gets roasted. Nobody is safe, even if you’re just a guest on the dais.
Courtney Love, however, not sure she knew what she was getting into. Right before we taped, she sort of pranced off to a bathroom with Andy Dick and came out really out of her mind, where she had to be physically held down to her seat by Jimmy Kimmel during the show.
Carolla: Courtney Love was kind of threatening to pull her top off or pull her skirt off up onstage, half out of her mind. The audience was screaming, “No!” You know your boobies have jumped the shark when you’re up onstage threatening to lift your top up and everyone’s screaming “No!” That’s a tough realization for a blonde who is used to being onstage and every time she lifts her shirt up, the crowd goes nuts. And everyone was literally yelling, “Put ‘em back!”
Ross: At one point she was flashing her panties, pulling out her boobs, and humping an armrest of her chair. That’s when I realized I had to shut it down, so I dropped it like a stun gun. I said, “How is it possible that Courtney Love looks worse than Kurt Cobain?” And he hadn’t been dead that long at this point, so it was a pretty vicious joke.
Ross: The next morning she checked herself into rehab. So yes, roasting saves lives.
The following year when we came to Bill Shatner and asked him what charity he would like those proceeds to go to, he was like, “Charity? I want the money!” So it became a nice payday for Bill Shatner himself, and that basically became the trend.
I realized after talking to him for two minutes: He’s a frustrated old Jewish comedian!
It’s also one of the ones Andy Dick looked most uncomfortable at, and there’s nothing better than making Andy Dick uncomfortable.
George Takei had the best line of the night. William Shatner is very into horses, and he rode in on a beautiful horse. And an hour later George Takei goes on and says, “I always wanted to say this to you, Bill: Fuck you and the horse you rode in on!”
“I don’t even know how to do this roast. How do you embarrass a crackhead that wears a Viking helmet?”
I remember the sheer delight of making fun of Flavor Flav. He was so happy. His feet were just kicking like a little kid in a high chair eating candy. He loved the attention more than anyone I’ve ever roasted. He hugged everybody afterwards. He was the last one to leave the afterparty. He didn’t want it to end. I think it was a highlight of his life, and maybe my favorite roast.
My running joke through that was, “Why should we be honoring a man who raped and killed a girl in 1990? First of all, it’s not true. It’s not true that Bob Saget raped and killed a girl in 1990, so if you have no proof that Bob Saget raped and killed a girl in 1990, then you shouldn’t be repeating it.” I spoke to Bob Saget not too long ago, and he said that to this day, people are still tweeting him that he raped and killed a girl in 1990.
Then we started doing a lot of the jokes about the Olsen Twins, that’s unavoidable. I remember one of them was “The Olsen Twins walk into a bar. They say, ‘We want an Ass Hurts.’ The bartender says, ‘How do you make an Ass Hurts?’ They go, ‘Well, that’s when Bob Saget makes you a glass of chocolate milk, you drink it, and you wake up an hour later…”
Norm kept saying, “I don’t really have anything yet.” After a few of those conversations I said, “Why don’t you watch some of the old Dean Martin Roasts and get some inspiration? That may lead to something.” He says, “All right, good idea.” So what does he do? He watches Dean Martin Roasts, and I think he basically pulled one of these hokey kind of sets—I don’t know if it was word for word—basically inspired by some of the more run-of-the-mill celebrities that would have done one of those roasts, telling these very obviously cheesy jokes. Norm took the slant that “I’m going to bring that to present day—and not change anything.”
Gottfried: Joan Rivers was the one where I did a whole monologue about her vagina. It was kind of a point-counterpoint, because everybody was talking about how dried-out and dusty her vagina was, so I did a whole thing in favor of her vagina.
Joyce: Whoever’s roast it is, they get a couple of things where they get to say, “Hey, do me a favor and don’t make a joke about this.” The guest of honor gets a few of those; the people on the dais can go fuck themselves. If Jeff Foxworthy was like, “Don’t dick on my moustache,” we’d be like, “Fuck you. Don’t have a moustache!” If Shaq said, “Don’t make fun of me because I’m a dumb Sasquatch…” “No, that’s what you are!”
Joyce: Joan’s was “Don’t make fun of Melissa.” We thought that was weird, especially because her husband committed suicide. That was okay, but “Don’t make fun of Melissa, who I made and forced on you!” The fact that she had a famous daughter—who wasn’t a child—and we’re not allowed to make fun of her? Even though that was the mandate, I wrote this joke, and Giraldo and the producers were still like, “Yeah, that’s a good joke. Put it in!” It was “Joan and Michael Jackson had a lot in common. They both spent millions of dollars at the same plastic surgeon to look like a creepy old white lady. They’re both more popular now that they’re dead. And they both raised a chimp!” Melissa wasn’t on the dais; she was in the crowd. She made a big show of grabbing her purse and storming out. They had to shut down the show for, like, ten minutes in order to get her back. So if you watch the roast, Melissa Rivers comes up from the audience, goes to the podium, and all she does is go, “Hey, thank you all for being here to honor my mom, and fuck you Greg Giraldo.” That’s in there because that’s the deal they made to get her back in—but the joke isn’t.
Ross: I remember Melissa definitely berating Greg and reminding him that she was supposed to be off-limits. But of course when your mom’s getting roasted and you’ve been in show business your whole life and you’re in the front row in a bright, beautiful dress, you’re going to get roasted.
It’s hard to roast somebody who’s already a punchline. So I was really reluctant, and I pushed back. I said, “I don’t think we should roast him.” I talked to John Mayer about it. He really understands me and roasting and show business, and he said, “Listen man, sometimes I wanna play the blues, but the fans wanna hear the hits! And roasting David Hasselhoff is like a hit. People are going to want to see that. You realize that this one’s for the fans.” And I did it, and I wound up embracing it fully. I came out dressed in a leather g-string the way Hasselhoff used to wear back in the ‘80s. I definitely made it a tribute, but yet made it mine as well.
I was backstage and one of the producers came back and said, “Pam Anderson agreed to do this at the last minute.” She originally wasn’t going to take part in it. “So go a little easy on her.” Which is the worst thing you can say to me, because then the whole thing was about Pam Anderson’s vagina, very derogatory. Less sympathetic than I was toward Joan Rivers’s vagina.
You know there is always a connective piece of tissue between David Hasselhoff and Jerry Springer, and you’re looking for what the best connection between them is. Whoever does unlock that joke, it’s like, “Goddammit, that’s the one! That’s the one I’ve been dancing around for three weeks and didn’t figure out!”
He really is the type of guy that you could roast every year like a gold watch.
Joyce: That motherfucker stopped us from doing ninety percent of the jokes we wanted to do. He would redact stuff in his script. He would not play ball. He thinks he’s funny, and that’s the fucking problem. He’s, like, Dick in a Bar funny, but he’s not professionally funny. But he gets laughs when he says the most obvious, heavy-handed stuff. It’s like he writes jokes with a chainsaw. No nuance to it at all.
His only contribution to any of the jokes was he was constantly crossing out numbers and jacking them up. There was some joke about him having three billion dollars; he crossed out three and put seven. There was something about him living in a space station after causing all the scabies and bedbugs and famine problems of the world, and then he just sits there in his hundred and fifty-thousand square feet marbled penthouse space station that orbits the earth. He crossed out a hundred and fifty and put three hundred. He needed people to know that his fictitious space station was bigger. That’s what a piece of shit that guy is.
Trump just scowled the whole time. Not to mention that he insisted it was done in New York, and he invited seven hundred of his dickhead friends. Who is the worst comedy audience in the world? Guys from Wharton Business School. They started booing The Situation immediately just because he didn’t go to college.
We obviously didn’t want to celebrate someone who was not 100 percent there.
The guy has a gold front tooth! I interviewed him on the red carpet, and he paints his front tooth white! It’s fully gold; he’s really a pirate!
This guy didn’t just agree to be roasted; he volunteered to be roasted. It was his idea. This was something he wanted.
Right after my set we had a bathroom break, and Snoop was like, “Here, let’s smoke a joint.” So I smoked a joint with Snoop in a Porta Potty while the show was happening.
“Martha, I want to make sure you know what you’re getting into.” She goes, “Honey, I have done two other roasts before. I totally know what I’m in for. And this is gonna be one for the biography. But I gotta ask you a question: They’re gonna beat me up about all that prison stuff, huh?” I go, “I would bank on it.” She laughed, but she committed to it.
That’s the power of the roast: Whether it’s redemption or just showing that you have a sense of humor about yourself, it humanizes and endears you to fans and to the public.
Everybody called him a piece of shit for an hour and a half, and then I kind of liked him on the other end of it.
It’s the same thing I love about the White House Correspondents’ Dinner. The most powerful guy in the Western World gets his balls busted by some idiot with a late-night show. In a third of the shitty places of the world, you’d get executed for that, and we put it on C-Span. It humanizes them.
It’s like the tip of the tip of the spear when it comes to joke-writing, because they have to be so sharp and precise, and you have to connect dots that are not easily connected. You have to find a way to tie Gary Busey and Flavor Flav together, then figure out a way to make them both look stupid in the same joke.