Years back we were on the road and passed signs for the Jelly Belly factory that advertised tours and Bingo demanded we go. I knew it would suck - anyone but Bingo would know it's gonna suck - and it sucked amazingly. Slow-moving guided tour of sad immigrants in white smocks and hair nets doing line work on conveyor belts. I haven't liked Jelly Belly since. Every color tastes like waiting to die.

That was in my head when Brian Hennigan - my uncut Scotsman sneaky manager-like person - told me we'd been invited to tour the Twitter home offices when I was playing in San Francisco. We'd taken one other tour in SF a few trips before to the old block-long armory that is home to my favorite porn site Kink.com. That wasn't as depressing as Jelly Belly but it still ruins the illusion when you see the looks on the actresses faces when they're walking the hallways. That's not Dominatrix, that's just hate.

Twitter sounded like the most tedious of them all but Brian said that I had to - probably because he wanted to and without me, there's no invite. Leechy, manipulating cock-bag he is.

Turns out, Twitter Headquarters fucking rocks to the point that it's almost Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory of the tech world. After what seemed like very unnecessary security to get in, you think you've walked in on the company Christmas party on what is actually just any given Wednesday mid-morning.

Just past the reception area is a monster - cafeteria isn't the right word - more of a Vegas-size buffet with seating for about 60,000 people all of whom are being entertained by a live DJ up on a stage at the front. Unless you choose to eat outside on the giant roof patio - at least the size of a football field with a manicured lawn and herb garden. 

I wasn't going to eat until I saw at one station a giant silver bowl of nothing but perfectly cooked bacon where I let my manners go and grabbed a handful like a wilting bouquet of brown flowers. They say they go through 28 pounds of bacon a day.

Bacon make you thirsty? Don't worry, they have coolers full of beer around every corner, right near the arcade rooms that are around every corner.

And that's not just for visitors, that's for everyone working. Not that they were. Nobody seemed to be working at all. This room you saw two guys playing ping-pong. The next is foosball.

I guess I don't really know what I expected people to be doing. Just from being on Twitter, I assumed the only staff they need were some Star Chamber dark-glasses types that secretly decide who gets to be verified and than a handful more to ignore the "flagged as spam" reports. I don't know how many people are actually employed there, an approximate shit-ton, but they all seemed happy as fuck.

Every CEO on Undercover Boss should be forced to go to Twitter to take notes on how to give people livelihoods without it ruining their lives. Every workplace should be that fucking great.

It almost seemed set up. If I had been someone important, I would think the whole thing was some kind of Kim Jong-un ruse to make foreign dignitaries like myself believe that all the North Korean people live in luxury. But that shit's for real. 

At least for now. I bet if I were to visit Myspace offices now, they might just be wearing hair-nets at a conveyor belts. 

********************

There still isn't a name for the podcast. "Blottobiography" sounded a little too Chelsea Handler though I might use it for a book if I ever get off my ass. At one point we'd decided on "Wasted Time" at the end of recording outside the Jupiter Hotel in Portland. I wasn't quite sold on it until we started recording drops - "Hey this Doug Stanhope's Wasted Time" -when a homlessy-atristy Portlandia type who'd been hanging around as an audience of one chimed in with a slow, gravelly "Waaaasted!" that was pure gold.

We had him do a bunch of 'em. Then I Googled it to find out, of course, someone already has that podcast title. But we're still gonna find a way to drop that guy's "Waaaasted!" anytime we can.

We record as and when we find somethign interesting on tour. Chaille is editing them and getting 'em out as quick as he can. As for all of your questions about where to get it and why don't I put it here or there - I have no fucking idea how any of that shit works. I get a link, I tweet it and put it up here. Other than that, I just talk into a mic.

So far there is no theme or structure and I'd like to keep it that way. I wouldn't mind if it just came across like a strange conversation you heard on a shortwave radio or someone bootlegged drunken ramblings caught on the infamous"Shut Up Little Man!" tapes.

Meanwhile, I'll keep taping shit and it'll become something eventually.

***************

If you haven't heard, Bisbee AZ has been making some news of late by trying to legalize civil unions within the city limits much to the ass-chafing of a lot of church folk as well as the state. Radley Balko wrote up a great peice for the Huffington Post here. We've been having a lot of fun with it and I dont think it's anywhere near over. Stay tuned.

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 Celebrity Death Pool is going strong and you still have time to put a team together for the remainder of 2013. I'm sucking dick in 8th place but I have a lot of strong picks that nobody else has so I feel confident.

Right now you can grab a Stanhope's Celebrity Death Pool t-shirt and get Deadbeat Hero DVD free with it. How's that for a fucking deal?

******************************

Recorded at the Houston Improv during the Big Stink Comedy Tour. Attending the interview and making comments off mic - Junior Stopka, Jack&Dino, Rob Mungle and Bingo.

GET THE PODCAST HERE

Doug Stanhope interviews Goosekirk about his 5 year prison stay in Brazil on drug trafficking charges. Interview was conducted on the patio of the Doug Fir Lounge at the Jupiter Hotel in Portland, OR. Attending the interview and making comments off mic - Andy Andrist, Bingo!, Ggreg Chaille and a guy that looked like Joaquin Phoenix.

GET THE PODCAST HERE

I'm 34, so this was close to 20 years ago this shithead I went to elementary and high school with used to call me names, trip me, tell people I was talking shit so they would want to fight me, shit like that. One thing I remember more vividly than any of this was this time on the school bus I was leaning over the seat in front of me, talking to a friend, and he snuck up behind me and hit me over the head as hard as he could with this kid Scott's history book and knocked me silly, practically unconscious, hurt me, made me feel like an asshole, and just laughed with all his scumbag friends at me slumped over.

I left that school after my sophomore year, never really saw him again, until my sister texted me to tell me "Harry Klingenberg died in a meth lab explosion." 

It gets better, though, because I google his name and some other keywords and find surveillance video on a news site.

Around 0:35, I just got goosebumps and started laughing like a motherfucker, because there he was, being rolled into a hospital, writhing in pain shortly before his death, with burns over 80% of his piece of shit body.

He was cooking in a car in a hospital parking lot. You can see the shit explode and watch him die.

Maybe you don't give a fuck but I've been listening to you for years and I feel like maybe you can relate.

As usual, I will close out the year at the Rialto, Saturday Dec 1st.

This year's Tucson show will be proudly home to "The Funniest Person in Arizona Comedy Competition."

And unlike all other comedy contests, we tell you upfront - "It's a Scam!" That's why there is no need for it to continue for weeks of preliminaries, semi-finals and finals. It's just one night!

Not only just one night, but just one minute!

That's right! You will only get to do one minute of material!

But, you ask, how can they judge us on one solitary minute of comedy?

Because like all competitions, It's Completely Unfair!

So unfair, in fact, that you will not even know that categories on which you're being judged, none of which will be comedy related.  Originality? Who cares? Stage Presence? Not an issue. Crowd Response? Wasn't listening!

The only thing I will promise you is this contest is NOT rigged, that the winner is NOT pre-determined. The winner will be decided by a panel of completely unqualified judges using a scorecard of random, superfluous criteria.

The winner will have the title of "The 2012 Funniest Person in Arizona" and will be opening for me for shit money immediately upon being crowned.

And the rub is, the losing comics will probably still cry that it was unfair!

But that won't matter to you because your career will be rocketing skyward and you will never look back!

To enter email a link of your stand-up that I will watch no more than a random 10 seconds of before making a decision. If you don't have a clip online, you can just send me an email telling me how funny you are, that you have a shitload of friends that will be buying tickets or other subtle forms of bribery, chicanery, hi-jinx or bamboozlery.

We will choose 10 comics to compete and will let you know by Wednesday, November 28th.

Email doug@dougstanhope.com

"Hey John it's Mike Ragogna from KRUU & HuffPost - we have a phone interview scheduled if you can please call the studio line - it'll be real easy, just a few questions about the new release and PiL."

I had an interview scheduled with this same guy at noon so he'd obviously put the wrong phone number to the wrong guest - and although I don't know shit about music I did catch the John and the PiL together and realized he was calling for John Lydon aka Johnny Rotten.

So I dialed the number he'd called me from, got voicemail and left a message saying who I was and that he'd called the wrong guest.

"Hey John it's Mike Ragogna from KRUU & HuffPost - we have a phone interview scheduled if you can please call the studio line..."

This time I said fuck it, wrote down the studio number, put on the best British accent I could muster (which is absolutely fucking awful) and called in to do the interview as best as I could, being still half asleep and not knowing shit about who I am pretending to be.

Sadly they edited out the fun parts where I would pause to fake-vomit mouthfuls of water into the toilet our loudly take a piss with the phone just over the bowl but they left in the "Howard Stern" and "Baba-Booey." How could they have ever guess they'd been duped?

Also, HERE is an interview I did as myself on same phone number later. Guy still clueless.

John Lydon Interview by dstanhope

Click for Original Article

As we draw closer to the dullest election since Bush/Dukakis, I will now go on record as throwing my shriveled, impotent support behind the only candidate worth hearing, Governor Gary Johnson. Johnson, the former two-term Governor of New Mexico is running on the Libertarian ticket.

Many of you reading this are thinking that the whole affair is a waste of effort, that the corruption runs too deep and the system is rigged and you'd be right. But I still like rooting for an underdog and I'll cheer-lead the fuck out of Gary Johnson.

Upsides:

Gary Johnson wants to end federal drug prohibition and allow states to set their own policies. He wants to legalize marijuana. 

Wants our troops home from Afghanistan immediately as well as reevaluating the need for other bases spread across the world.

Is pro-choice and pro-gay marriage and for stem cell research.

Abolish the IRS and enact the Fair Tax.

Keep the internet tax-free and uncensored as well as legalizing internet gaming.

End the Patriot Act

That's all pretty fucking good.


Downsides:

Nobody knows who the fuck he is even though he pretty much in synch with Ron Paul (without any of the racism baggage.)

He's a little creepy looking.

He's far too honest.

That's one of my biggest peeves with both Johnson and Paul. Why not just lie about some of the shit you wanna do? It's been a working business model for politicians since I've been alive yet it seems that it's only implemented by the nefarious. 

They say the won't raise taxes and as soon as they are elected they raise taxes. Why never the other way? Why never a guy running on the Anti-Coon ticket only to get elected and free the slaves? Bullshit has a solid track record and should not be taken out of the equation especially if it offers you opportunity to make drastic changes for liberty. Some stuff is gonna suck. Gloss over it or just flat out lie. Most people - myself included - are too fucking under-educated on the facts to have any business scratching their asses in a polling booth. If it's necessary, tell them whatever dogshit subterfuge it takes to get into office and then fuck em over by doing the right thing.

Deception should not be reserved for evil people.


In the meantime, take out your Sharpie or your spray can and write "Johnson/Gray 2012" in every dirty toilet stall you find yourself vomiting in over the next few months. That might be the extent of my political pull but it'll make me smile when I read it.

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The main reason that most people cannot take this election seriously is that we are all now frightfully aware that indeed, December 21st, 2012 - the end of the Mayan Calendar - now certain to be the End of the World.

It no longer matters how the Arizona Cardinals did in pre-season. Nobody gives a fuck about going over the mileage on their leased vehicle. Only a sucker would buy a pregnancy test today. She won't even be fat by the time the firestorms come.

All folks seem to care about his how the will spend their last day and who they will spend it with.

That was a problem for a lot of you who were having to choose between spending their final day on Earth with me, Joe Rogan or Joey MadFlavor CoCo Diaz. Well now you don't need to choose. We have come together to do a show in Los Angeles on that soon-to-be fateful date so we can spend it with you.

Rogan, Stanhope & Diaz at the Wiltern Theater 12/21/12. 

Ticket info later this month. Get on the mailing list now so you dont miss it, it'll sell out quick.


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Well what if you're WRONG about the End of the World?

Highly doubtful. That's some strong science.

But even if we don't die, people will keep dying and that can be sad if you're not in a death pool.

The folks in my social circles had always used the term - "oh yeah, he's a wicked fuck-up. I'm putting him in my death pool" - but not until two years ago did my friend Jobi actually start an actual organized pool with rules, point structures and bonus systems.

Even then I only got in as a goof since I don't really follow pop culture. And then as the ball dropped on New Years Eve and we all revealed our 20 picks for the year, I became immediately hooked. Every day that year I found myself going to Wiki Deaths 2011 before even checking my email. Summer hadn't even come before I was making notes for next year. Strategies based on different bonuses. I'd front-loaded Celebrity Rehab contestants for obvious reason but over-looked NFL lineman who die in their mid 50's on average. Couple that with the bonus for African-Americans during black history month and you're looking at nice odds.

By the start of the 2012 pool, I had been sitting at the computer like some racetrack handicapper for months and all but kept my picks locked in a briefcase to my wrist. I am currently in 2nd place and feel bad following my friend Ralphie May's Twitter feed more closely than I would if he weren't in the position to play king-maker and throw me over the top.

There is nothing I won't gamble on - even if it's FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY - but nothing has proven more fun than Celebrity Death Pool. Whatever you're into - Fantasy Football or Baseball, March Madness brackets or picking the ponies are all fine but this is better. Death has no season and any long-shot can surprise you and pull you from worst-to-first at the last minute.

So Jobi and I have decided to spread the joy of prognosticating the Fates of the Stars. We are launching "Doug Stanhope's Celebrity Death Pool" - www.stanhopesdeathpool.com - so that you can join in the fun. You can pre-register today, start getting your crew together and, of course, start doing your research for 2013 candidates.

And fuck you if you copy my Ralphie May pick. I've had him since long before there was such a pool. Besides, I'm probably a way better choice.

More to come.


****************************************************

We are on the road a ton so updates don't come as quickly as I'd like. Fortunately Bingo updates our travels a lot on her Facebook page. Follow her at www.facebook.com/bingo.amy.bingaman and see her at the merch booth on the road. She's the blue-haired girl and she loves it when people know her. 

My good old buddy Frank Lunney aka Captain Rowdy croaked this month. He was a "triple X-rated" comic and pretty big in the southwest when I first started out. He took me under his wing in the early years and sometimes under his fists or shod foot. His beatings were like a gift from an angel. Shit started going downhill for him after a while and never seemed to stop. Diabetes had them whittling his limbs down like scrimshaw and his kidneys finally left him like so many of his wives. He was a damn good human being and I can't say how much I appreciate all he did for me starting out. 

If you care to help, buy my merch. His 13 year old son Gage is now an orphan and I'm sure he'll be jacking me up for cash soon. I'll say it's from you.

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I've been lazy about putting up fun fan mail. This one showed up as actual hand-written snail-mail near 4th of July a year ago. My friend Hack read it out loud in the kitchen and we all laughed at the fan-boyish tone. At least at first.

I'll transcribe it as it was written.

"Dear Doug... or should I say feloow drunk Doug,

I was at your show last October or November down in Ft Lauderdale, I was the creepy kid in black among the crowd of creepy kids in black and I really enjoyed the show and I'm glad I got to see you live because I was beginning to think you weren't real; I was starting to think you were some form of CGI digital Santa Claus that was sent down by God to save us from this retarded society we live in. At least I got to see the philosopher Doug Stanhope do his magic and I'm talking real magic, the kind that makes you want to drink even when you really don't want to.

Anyway, since you're reading this you should knw that I'm already dead by the time you get this. I'm no fan of the world and even less the way I live in it, and there are some good things but I've had 23 almost 24 years to do those things, and although I want to stay a little longer and get to see some more I can't, for the moral justice thinks I have to do 7 years in a prison for looking at the wrong kind of porn even though that happened to me as a kid and I never complained about it.

Anyway, now that I'm completely out of hope, I'm leaving you my favorite book, which I think you will like and maybe give a few ideas for new material. It's not perfectbut most of the concepts in the book are similar to your views, just a little less vulgar.

So Doug, thanks for giving me something to laugh at, that was almost impossible with my gloomy outlook and sick sense of humour.

Thanks for being the one person with the balls to speak out the truth. I hope you are much more successful in what's left of your career and save some worthy people before it's too late.

Thanks and good luck

Your fan and follower.

Liam S.V. Hughes

Oh and by the way, it's painless helium suicide in case you were wondering. At least I DIED LAUGHING!"

**

We checked it out and he indeed killed himself after being arrested with child porn on his computer and facing 7 years. My lawyer friend who looked up the case said he did the right thing, considering his odds in prison. I don't think I could have offered a better suggestion aside from using something other than helium as I already have a bit about a fan that killed himself that way.

Comics always say that they are happy to be able to make people laugh, to give em a small break from their daily grind, their grueling nine-to-five. A lot of my people have a much darker grind and I'm happy to give them a nice chuckle and release at the end of a long day setting fires, drowning their kids in a car and blaming it on the blacks or debating between suicide or prison.

Liam Hughes was certainly not the only really fucked-up fan I've had nor will he be the last. I don't know exactly why I appeal to so many wrecked, scared, miserable, ugly, angry or otherwise ill-suited for life as we know it. But I'm not unhappy that you're here. Every time there's somebody like the Aurora theater shooter, I check my mailing list and Facebook to see if they were a fan. I know that if it weren't for comedy, I might be sitting in a dark room stockpiling weapons and putting names on lists. 

Maybe you should try writing jokes. Or kick-boxing or something. Join a Neighborhood Watch. That's where all the real psychopaths hang out. 

I don't have all the answers. I just do comedy.

But in the meantime, certainly keep your cards and letters coming to 212 Van Dyke St. Bisbee AZ 85603.

***********

In case you're wondering, the book Liam sent with the letter was called "Think!: Why Crucial Decisions Can't Be Made in the Blink of an Eye." Pretty unremarkable but it's the thought that counts.

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Wow, this update has been pretty death-heavy.

Here's a great story for anyone who's fantasized about riding over the Westboro Baptists with a combine followed by a Zamboni, a more clever way to fuck with em!

Me, I feel better already.