Thursday, February 28, 2008

I'm out of calendars!

Not really, I'm out of calendars IN MY HOUSE. You can still buy one at the stores listed on the right hand side.

I'm living below the poverty line and there's a bevy of beasts hunting me in my own home. If you buy my calendar, I'll spend the money on groceries and poison.

This is March:

The prize for the next BabyHole Sausagefest Contest

Last week we held the first BabyHole Sausagefest Contest and no one won, even though it's the easiest contest to win. All you have to do is sign up for the open mic with a real vagina. If you have a fake vagina, can I please borrow it? I need it for a project.

The prize for the last BabyHole Sausagefest Contest was a bottle of my favorite champagne, Andre. Since no one won, I had to drink it all by myself!

That prize was consumed. The prize for the next BabyHole Sausagefest Contest is a pack of nudie playing cards from Atlantic City. All the guys in it look like they reached their peak in 1986 or earlier in Eastern Europe.

Maybe I'll have a bottle of Andre on hand anyway.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Casual Encounters sketch

This is a sketch I was in. It looks like a low budget horror movie. You can't see the credits, but it stars Nathan Schreiber and Joe, with me, Emily Epstein and Jen Dziura (who wrote it) at the end. I'm supposed to be dressed as a school girl. I tried to make my bangs look like dog ears.

If you don't put writing first, you kill rodents

I have a lot of writing and editing to do for next Friday, and I was planning on finishing this week. However, I was not planning on the beast in the wall burrowing into my apartment taking up residence in my oven.

For the past few weeks, we've been hearing something or things large scurrying above our heads in the kitchen and in the bedroom while we are trying to sleep. One time, it was so loud and so close, I thought they were going to break out of the wall and into our heads. It was scary, but we thought that whatever it was was relegated to the space between the ceiling and roof.

Yesterday, I found a suspicious pile of wood chips in the corner. I was afraid to look up, but my boyfriend did. The beast had burrowed in from the ceiling. I cleaned the kitchen, and found evidence that it had been residing in the oven.

I spent the majority of last night cleaning the oven, and this morning buying poisons, ultrasonic devices, steel wool, and washing my hands. My writing will have to wait, because the potential plague will not.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

My birthday was yesterday

One would think that having one's birthday printed on her Melissa Surach 2008 calendar would help one's friends to remember when her birthday is. But it doesn't.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

February 19th's BabyHole

Last night's show was the best BabyHole since the calendar release party, and not just because of all the champagne I drank!

No one has won the BabyHole Sausagefest Contest yet. It's a really easy contest to win. All you have to do is be a woman and sign up for the open mic and you win a bottle of my favorite champagne, Andre. But no one even tries! So I had to drink it all by myself. As a consequence, today my farts smell like slightly spoiled milk.

Anyway, The House of Leaves opened the show. They are a really good band and you should check them out.

Saint Patrick made a special appearance and did his Homeless Love poem and his Sun poem, which is about white people being sunburnt. He closed with a song about cheese. Saint Patrick is one of my favorite poets because his poetry is funny and he doesn't act like a dick.

And the featured comedian was Aubrey Tennant, who performed as the rapper Big Panties, a disabled Canadian who can't tell the difference between men and women. He brought the house down and everyone who was there will certainly talk about his act for weeks to come.

As a side note:

As you may know, the poets are upset because they can't do boring, badly written poetry at my show, so they come to it and act like jerks. I don't know why they're so retarded. Toy Eaters lets them do shows there anyway, so what's the big deal? Also, they can do poetry at my show as long as its funny, but apparently that's not good enough for them. Can't they just write a stupid poem about it instead of giving me a head ache?

Videos from old BabyHoles

The videographer is slowly making his way through old BabyHole videos and posting them online. So far there are two. But you can look at them on his website, Under Development, here

Wednesday, February 13, 2008


Move over, creepy dudes!

BabyHole has been running since September and no woman has ever signed up for the open mic. Just guys who don't seem to get laid.

So the first lady to sign up for BabyHole Open Mic (for stand up, sketch and musical comedy) will win a prize. I don't know what yet, but it will probably include a bottle of champagne that I'll be forced to drink by myself if she doesn't sign up by 9:30 pm next Tuesday.

The next show is February 19th with a great band, The House of Leaves.

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Roland's show this month

This is the flier for it. RSVP people. I only know St. Patrick and Duncan, but we are all a good time.

Finally, a shower!

I finally get to shower today. It's been almost a whole week! Wish me luck. I'll need it.

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Last Night's BabyHole

Last night, Roland Ramos's band opened the show with some reggae The Undoings closed the show while everyone rocked out. The open mikers were really good. I also read my new essay, "Why I am the Worst Comedian." I'm going to do it at Art House on Thursday too.

Everyone almost had a good time but...there were some pimples. We will be expanding the expulsion policy at BabyHole.

Apparently, the poets who live in GRAF (is that the stupid acronym? Who cares.) are really upset that the open mic doesn't allow poetry, and they came out to riot. One of them got thrown out.

They think that because BabyHole is supposed to be funny, it's anti-free speech or something. Grow up, Jersey City. Can't you sophisticate your creative pursuits? Must we be urban faux-hemian rednecks?

Also, there were some dicks in the audience who looked 18 and really short and virginy complaining that open mic wasn't funny while standing next to me. In the future, if you do that, you will be asked to leave. Go back to hang out in your mom's basement.

More than one person has commented that there was a misogynist theme last night. We will have none of that, especially if you can't make a good "women are dumb" joke.

This is not the open mic atmosphere we want. Neither I nor Toy Eaters will allow it.

I don't live in poverty and receive hate mail on a fairly regular basis to provide the only comedy show in Jersey City that you won't get shot at for nothing, and if you don't respect that, don't come to my show.

That said, come to the next BabyHole on February 19th, the only open mic in Jersey City for comedy ever, and the best show in Jersey City.

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

The Foods I Smell Like

This week I'm obliged to not bathe. My rusty tub is being refinished, and it won't dry until at least Thursday. It's only been since Sunday, but already my hair is greasy and I smell like food.

I think I smell like salty chicken soup, except for my armpits, which smell kind of like peppered steak left in the refrigerator too long. I can also catch whiffs of the meat section in C-Town and fine cheeses. Occasionally I'll smell something vinegary.

There's a BabyHole tonight. I usually bathe before I host shows, but what can I do? The gods have spoken.