Jack Kukoda

Whoo!! My good friend Paul’s bachelor party is this weekend and I’m pretty psyched. Man, it’s going to be so awesome. We’re going to make him wear on of those novelty veils and we’re all going to wear hats with penises on them. And we’re going to make Paul wear Hawaiian leis, and then when we see a cute guy, we’ll make Paul put the lei around the guy’s neck and say, “You’ve just been lei’d.” Ha! That will be so sweet. Bachelors rule!!!!

Wait, no, that’s how bachelorette parties work. Never mind. It won’t be like that. Except I might be wearing a hat with a novelty penis on it, but I do that anyway. Don’t you tell me how to dress on the weekends! That’s my time.

I think we’re just going to be drinking all weekend. Except we will have an excuse to do so. And I know that some of the guys are going to play paintball on Saturday. Not me, though, because I have to work. But even if I didn’t have to work, I seriously doubt I would want to play paintball. From what I’ve heard, getting hit with a paintball hurts really bad. That does not sound like fun.

Anyway, I’m more of a laser tag man myself. Holy shit, if anyone ever wants to play laser tag, be it for a birthday party or just on a weekend afternoon, you better call me because I am sweet at it. I’m the kind of guy who uses code language and hand signals when I’m laser tagging. And I do a lot of unnecessary somersaults around the laser tag course. So, yeah, I’m pretty awesome. But you already knew that.

So, apparently, some actress has dropped out of a play here in New York because she was concerned for her physical safety around co-star Alec Baldwin. In an email to a friend, the actress, Jan Maxwell, wrote that Baldwin put his fist through a wall and has physically and mentally intimidated the rest of the cast and crew.

Actresses. What is their deal? I know it’s in their very nature to be all dramatic and sensitive, but do they have to go and quit a production every time someone puts their fist through a wall? Let me say something to all the so-called actresses out there: Punching holes in walls is acting. At least, it is where I learned the craft. And where was that? A little place called the Yale School of Drama and Drywall Smashing. Not to brag or anything, but the YSDDS is just about the greatest acting/wall punching school in all of America.

I’ll never forget my first day of class when my instructor strode confidently into the room, delivered the stirring monologue from Act I, Scene II, of Hamlet, all the while punching holes through the scenery! After he finished and we had given him a standing ovation, he said to us, “Children, anyone can walk around on a stage spouting memorized lines. But when you learn to speak your lines while smashing holes in the wall, then, truly, you have become an actor.”

Truer words were never spoken. So give Baldwin a break, lady. You just might learn something. And just to toot my horn a little, when I played Joe in Damn Yankees, I punched everything in sight: the walls, the curtains, the stage, my fellow actors, the first four rows of the audience, etc. NYTheatre.com called it “the punchingest show we’ve seen in years! Bravo!”

Oh, Uncoolkids.com has posted some photos and video of Tuesday night’s show. Thanks, Shannon!

Alleged Baldwin behavior prompts actress’ exit [CNN.com]

…can be found here. Listen to the first song “Welcome to Buffalo.” Then listen again. I played it for my roommate from Cincinnati, and he pitied me. He’s also now a fan of General Spade. Any rapper who that rhymes about how Buffalo produced 2 US Presidents and The Music City Miracle, well, that’s just amazing.

Thanks to all the people who pointed this guy out to me. I’m always the last to know.

General Spade’s MySpace Profile

Hope this makes up for your lost parasol, Anne.

Thanks so much to everyone who came out to the show last night! And extra thanks to all the people who helped out to make the night such a success. You know who you are. To those people, consider this post a coupon good for one free back massage, redeemable at any time. That’s a promise. I’ll hopefully have a full run-down on the show in a day or two, once I get some of the photos back.

And congratulations to the people who won prizes last night. I swear it was just a coincidence that almost everybody who won was either a former roommate or college classmate of mine. I have no problem stealing from charity, but I would never, ever, ever do anything to jeopardize the integrity of a raffle. A silent auction, on the other hand, I would rob blind. Screw you, silent auctions.

Sorry, it was a late night.

Hey Everyone! As if I have reminded you enough about tonight’s show, here’s one final kick in the pants.

Anyone who comes to the show tonight automatically becomes my best friend. For real!

Last night, while my roommate was showing me pictures of his vacation to San Francisco, I asked the following question: If you had to go on a road trip with a full-grown wild animal, which animal would you choose?

“Well, I can tell you who I wouldn’t want to go on a road trip with,” he said, ignoring the question. “A panther. I’ve heard that panthers are the least trainable of all cats and eventually they just turn on their owners. I wouldn’t want to be in a car with one.”

Here are some of the animals my roommate said he would like to take on a road trip, with his reasons for doing so:

Manatee: “They’re gentle creatures, they’ve all been wounded by speedboats at some point in their lives, and they’re shy. They would make good companions.”
Kangaroo: “It’s difficult to keep track of all the things you need on vacation-road maps, rental car receipts, etc. A kangaroo could keep those in its pouch.”
Chimpanzee: “They’re the most human-like.”

Man, these are some wild times my roommate and I are living over here on Mulberry Street. I’d invite some girls over to hang out with us sometime, but I’m afraid we would ruin them for other men forever. We are that cool and sexy.

And if you’re curious who I would like to take on a road trip, here’s a hint:

I’ve seen this clip on a few sites, notably Deadspin, and my friend Gabe from Buffalo just sent it to me. It’s a clip of Sabres Defenseman Brian Campbell levelling the Flyers’ R.J. Umberger in game one of their playoff series from Saturday night. And it’s not for the faint of heart. Mini Update: I tried to embed this video, but it’s taking way too long to load for some reason, so you’ll just have to click on the link.

If someone did that to me I would start crying immediately and refuse to play hockey ever again. Honestly, I would just shake my head as tears streamed down my face and tell my mom that I hate hockey and I never want to play again. At least that’s what I did when I was eight years old and some kid kicked me right in the shins at a soccer game at Delaware Park.

On a related note, if anyone has footage of the time Lindy Ruff attacked New York Islanders’ goalie Billy Smith or when Jim Schoenfeld called Don Koharski a fat pig and told him to “go eat another donut,” I might be willing to pay money for that.

Sorry all you non-Buffalo hockey fans. This probably could not be less interesting to you. Taste it, Camper Guy!

They’re Still Scraping Bits Of Umberger Off The Ice [Deadspin]
BRIAN CAMPBELL DESTROYS RJ UMBERGER OMFG I DIIIIIIIIEEEE!!! [YouTube]

Hurrah, my roommate and good friend returned from San Francisco last night. He was ostensibly there with his girlfriend to visit some friends. I say ‘ostensibly’ because my roommate has been dating her for two months now and I’ve still yet to meet her. Every time I suggest we get together, my roommate has some lame-ass excuse like, “We can’t make it to your Mortal Kombat tournament” or “That’s a nice offer, but I don’t think my girlfriend wants to get high with you and watch the History Channel all day.”

At this point, I’m pretty sure that she doesn’t exist. Not like my girlfriend, who definitely exists. Her name is Samantha Rocketship and she’s a tube top model. The best thing about Samantha is that she invites me to all her photo shoots and I get to watch her model tube tops. Sometimes, the craft service people let me eat some bagels and one time we got a bunch of free tube tops out of the deal. Score!

I realize not everyone can be as lucky as me in the romance department, which is why I don’t call my roommate on the fact that his girlfriend clearly does not exist, I keep telling him that I can introduce him to some Samantha’s friends, who are hot, hot models/racecar drivers, but he always refuses. I guess some men are threatened by that type of woman.

All right, I’ve got to get going. Samantha wants me to give her a ride to the tattoo parlor so she can my name tattooed on her body. Again!

It’s so nice outside that I think I’ll start a small carnival in front of my apartment building. I’ve been meaning to do something with my degree in Face Painting and Balloon Animals for a while now, and I think it’s about time. So come on down to Kukoda’s Karnival. That second “K” is for “killer,” which is how teens will describe my carnival. Do teens still use the term “killer” as in “That was a killer rock ‘n roll concert?” I think they do.

Oooh, the NHL playoffs start this weekend and the future Stanley Cup champion Buffalo Sabres go up against the lowly Philadelphia Flyers. I’m going to say Sabres in 5 games. I really think the Sabres have a good chance of going all the way this year. The last time the Sabres went to the Stanley Cup Finals, back in ‘99, I camped out at the arena overnight with a bunch of friends to try and get tickets. When they sold out after only 10 minutes, the parking lot nearly erupted in a riot. Fans started pelting the ticket booth with meatball subs and 2 liter bottles of “pop,” which is what we call soda in Buffalo. Just when I thought I couldn’t be more ashamed of my fellow Buffalonians, two fat, mustachioed-men starting fighting each other for some reason. That’s why people call Buffalo “The Jewel of America.” They do so, look it up.

What else? Oh, The Taste of Chinatown is tomorrow, which I’ve been looking forward to all week because I am a filthy glutton. Anyone want to be on how many dumplings I can fit in my mouth at once?

I think that will do it for today’s edition of the Friday Foofaraw.

Fifteen to be exact. I never said anything about them before because I was afraid I would get in trouble with the government, but with the recent success of HBO’s Big Love, I figure I need to cash in on this polygamy trend, repercussions be damned.

First off, here is a picture of my wives.

My, they are an athletic bunch! Don’t you think? The two guys in the back? Those are my sons. Their names are Ryder Hudson Kukoda and Jaared Tyler Kukoda. Those are classy names, I think. I also have 35 more sons. Don’t ask me to recite all of their names because I have no idea. The only reason I can remember Ryder and Jaared’s names is because they are the oldest sons, and therefore, the ones who pose the greatest risk to my wife-hording. As such, I’ve got to keep an eye on them. And part of keeping an eye on them is knowing their names. I digress.

The important thing to remember is that I am the kind of man who can attract and give satisfaction to fifteen women. Would you like to be one of those women? Of course you would. But it’s not as easy as it sounds.

I’m a very particular man and I know what I’m looking for in a wife to add to my polygamous marriage. So before you go all willy-nilly calling and emailing me in an effort to become Mrs. Kukoda #16, I suggest you check out these ground rules first.

1. You must have a good voice. I’m not saying it has to be great, but at least good enough to have won you the lead in your high school’s spring musical. Bonus points if that musical happened to be “Damn Yankees” or “West Side Story.” Those of you who were in “Grease” need not apply. For obvious reasons.
2. You’ve got to be a good cook. Again, I’m not looking for perfection. Can you add browned hamburger meat to Hamburger Helper at the right time? If so, I consider you a good cook. Bonus points if you bring me Hamburger Helper on our first date.
3. You have to have a job. I don’t like to work. You must be okay with this and be willing to earn enough money to support me.
4. No Mexicans.
5. You must be in outstanding health. My sexual prowess has been known to cripple infirm women.
6. You must be good at basketball. The other wives play some mean pick-up games and I want you to keep up.

So yeah, you might have what it takes to be my new wife. Or something. Guess who’s drunk?!!!!! (me)

Hey, if you’re in the New York area and you like Chinese food, you should come to this on Saturday. They had one last fall and it was pretty awesome. Fifty restaurants offering dishes for $1 or $2 a piece! I’m going to go to every one of them. There’s a good chance that I will go into some sort of sodium-induced shock if I eat that much soy sauce. But I’m not worried.
I will also be challenging any and all comers to a game of H.O.R.S.E. on the basketball courts across the street from my apartment. If you think you can handle that, I suggest you come on down. I’m looking at you, sexy teens.

P.S. Sorry for the light posting. I’ve got to pull out computer plugs today at one of my slightly less-shitty part-time jobs.

Taste of Chinatown - Official Site

Nope. I ate more pork than that. Try again. What? Two pounds? That’s an insult to my pork-eating prowess. I eat two pounds of pork before noon. “You want milk or sugar?” the man at the deli asks when I order my morning coffee. “Fuck milk,” I say. “Put some ham in there. That’s how I like my coffee.” So yeah, I like to eat pork. Get over it. You’ve got one more guess. Make it count.

Nope, once again you’ve underestimated my-Oooohh! I’m having a heart attack. There is pork in my heart! Pork attack! Arrgh! Why did I eat so much pork?! Oh, right, because it was delicious! I regret nothing!!!

Except my terrible eating habits.

P.S. My new catch phrase is “Pork o’ the morning to ya!” Look for it.

Ooh, look at the fancy flier for the Benefit Show I’m hosting on Tuesday April 25th.

We just found out that we’re going to be giving away even more awesome prizes than initially thought, including a bunch of CD’s and DVD’s from Comedy Central and Coach Bags! Did you hear me? We’ll be raffling off obscenely expensive leather bags from Coach. Plus there’s a whole comedy show! And then a dance party immediately afterwards! What more could you want? Nothing. There’s nothing more in this world you could possible want or need besides this show. So come out for it, why don’t ya?

This flier was created by the lovely, talented, and very funny Shayna Ferm, who will be competing in the Shark Show’s “Battle of the Funny Bands” finals this Saturday. She is great. If she weren’t already engaged I would try to marry her. You heard me, Shayna’s fiancee!

I finally saw Hustle & Flow last night. From what I heard, I thought it was going to be like Rocky, but with rap. It was, sort of. Except the theme song wasn’t by Survivor. And there was little to no boxing. And it took place in Memphis and not Philadelphia. And there was a lot more pimping and domestic abuse and gun violence and desperate poverty. Hustle & Flow wasn’t as uplifting as I had hoped, but a pretty good movie overall.

Also, it wasn’t quite “street” enough for my tastes. Then again, not everyone grew up in the gritty hood of North Buffalo. My house was near the zoo, son! What!

Oh, that reminds me! When I was writing for a newspaper in Buffalo just after graduation, I called up the zoo pretending to be Drew Bledsoe’s agent. This was when Drew was the QB for the Bills the year he went to the Pro Bowl and everyone in Buffalo loved him. I got the director of the zoo on tape agreeing to give Drew and his family a private tour of the zoo so they could walk freely and paint with the elephants. He also said they might be willing to dress one of the buffaloes in a Bills jersey and let Drew throw a football to it. That was pretty cool.

If someone out there can photoshop a buffalo wearing a Bills jersey, that person will have my undying love. And maybe a free gift from my apartment. I got soup mix!

UPDATE: We have a winner! The lovely and quite talented Laina just won my undying love by sending me this:

Thanks, Laina!

I was recently reminded of Japander.com when I saw something from it on WWTDD. Japander is a website that features Japanese commercials starring American actors. As anyone who’s seen Lost in Translation probably knows, American movie stars often do commercials in Japan for obscene amounts of money, knowing full well that the ads will likely never be seen in America. They can then keep their artistic credibility here, while still making assloads of money for a few days work.

This site has been around for a few years and I’m not sure if they have any new footage, but the older stuff is certainly worth watching. Particularly Harrison Ford’s beer commercials.

Check it out here: Japander