"This song has no title, just words and a tune..."

It's funny to me that people actually read this. I mean, don't get me wrong, Huey Long- I love that people read words that I write and I love even more that people notice when I don't write words for a really long time. I guess what I'm saying is, you asked for it, and I'm gonna give it to you.

The reason I haven't written anything here in a bit is because, as some of you probably know, on Monday and Tuesday, I had a reading of my musical, The Black Suits. The Suits have consumed the last two weeks of my life- and it's been kickass. There is nothing I'd rather do than be in a rehearsal room with actors I love and watch them turn words on a page into people. Ah. That makes it sound like they are turning actual words into people, like, through witch-craft or something. To clarify: The actors are not, in fact, witches. Quite the opposite. They are fucking glorious wizards of humanity, taking 50 or 60 lines of dialogue and a handful of songs and creating real, live human beings. It's a very powerful and gratifying thing for a writer to watch. Just thinking about it makes me all tingly and shit. At any rate, the process was awesome and the readings themselves were awesome, and I got to spend a lot of awesome time with a lot of awesome people. And everything beyond that? Well, ah. Uh. Yeah. You know, trying to get a very personal, very un-musical-theatery musical off the ground is sorta spirit-killing. I mean, without going into too many details, here's what's going on: [POTENTIALLY CAREER-RUINING COMMENTS OMITTED BY THE WRITER IN A RARE MOMENT OF GOOD SENSE.] So now you know. Wow. I can’t believe I used the C-Word in a blog post.

On Monday night I’m going to see Michael Penn at Joe’s Pub! So psyched. If he does “Long Way Down (Look What Cat Drug In)” I’ll probably cry. Incidentally, if you’re reading this and you don’t know Michael Penn, you should. He’s one of the greatest songwriters ever and a huge influence on my shit. (“Influence” = “I steal A LOT from him”)

Oh- huge news, dudes. The beard is no more. Gone. We had fun together, but then I realized that I was sick of things touching my face and I shaved it off. Then I took the hair and I put it on a LIFE magazine cover that featured a picture of a bust of JFK. That made feel good about myself for some reason.

It was at this point in the writing of this blog-post that I realized that I had a teaching gig in Brooklyn tomorrow at 9am, and I didn’t have a keyboard to bring with me to the school. Fuck, right? Fuck, Yes. Luckily, I know really cool people who let me borrow their keyboards. So, a huge shout-out to Claire Karpen, Mike Pettry, and Andy Herz, whose apartment I just ran to and whose keyboard I just stole. Technically, the keyboard belongs to Herz, so an extra-loud shout out to him. Actually, the man needs a double shot of extra-loud shout out, because in the middle of a conversation about Long Island (Andy hails from Roslyn), the dude made reference to the “Rape Diner.” While rape is nothing to get excited about (well, unless you are the one doing the raping, I guess), to hear someone other than myself or my immediate friends-n-family refer to the Seacrest as “Rape Diner” is, well… well… it’s just thrilling. To explain-

and now it's time for this week's edition of...



HORRIBLE STORY TIME with Joe

Back in the 70’s, the Seacrest Diner had no windows. One day, some evil bastards came in and just raped everybody in the diner for, like, hours and hours. And no one knew cuz there was no windows. So, now the Seacrest has windows. Problem solved. Horrible, I know, but it sort of takes a story that intense to warrant the nickname of “Rape Diner.”

HORRIBLE STORY TIME with Joe
FIN



Earlier tonight, I realized that I’ve never used the word “simpatico” in conversation. I am so proud of this. It is my goal to never use “simpatico” in casual conversation, or, actually, any kind of conversation.

So, in that JFK picture, my beard-shavings kinda look like pubes, huh? Weird.

Ed Wood is one of my favorite movies. I’ve been watching it since I got back from stealing the keyboard. It happens to contain one of my favorite lines of all time, and the line was just uttered, so I feel like I gotta share it with the world. Ready? OK. Here go.

[JOHNNY DEPP is at bar with (the awesome and criminally under-used) JULIET LANDAU. The BARTENDER comes over.]

BARTENDER: M’am, would you like some water?
JULIET LANDAU: (Terrifyingly explosive) NO! No Water. No Liquids-- I’m highly allergic to them!

[End.]

How killer is that? God damn. The dudes who wrote that also wrote Problem Child AND The People Vs. Larry Flynt. They sort of have the coolest career of any writers ever. Man. One day.

*******
Miss D3438 (11:43:54 PM): how are you?
Miss D3438 (11:44:00 PM): Do you still have the beard?
Spunky4evr (11:44:49 PM): ....
Spunky4evr (11:45:01 PM): ........
Spunky4evr (11:45:30 PM): ....Nope! Shaved it off!
Miss D3438 (11:46:10 PM): Yay!
Spunky4evr (11:47:30 PM): I was actually thinking of you as I shaved it off.
Spunky4evr (11:48:13 PM): Ha. That sounded weird.
Miss D3438 (11:49:03 PM): Yeah, it did.
*******

This past weekend I found myself wandering around Manhattan late at night and thinking about shit. I started thinking that maybe the reason I want to write musicals is because it's just an excuse to spend lots of time and drink lots of alcohol with people I love.

Then I realized that I actually want to write musicals because it's an opportunity to create (yeah, get ready for it, I'm gonna say it...) art with people I love.

So, yes. The reason is creation. The alcohol is gravy.

...But then again, isn't it always?

No, I don't know what that means, either. Time to jack off.

Even stranger that someone had a camera to film it...

Dude, the strangest thing happened on the ferry this morning.

-joe

"I'm gonna raise hell at the union hall..."

Yea, so the other night, Robert Maddock and I won a Backstage Bistro Award for a tune we wrote for the Lorinda Lisitiza show . What is a Backstage Bistro Award you ask? Exactly, I respond.

At any rate, the night was a success for three reasons:

1) I opted not to sit at my fancy assigned table, and instead hung in the back with my army of performers. As a result, I was shushed several times for speaking too loudly during the show. I have discovered that this actually happens to me quite frequently. People should stop inviting me places. Or they should just pay for my band to sit a fucking table like humans.

2) I was able to remove some of the class from the oh-so-classy ceremony by taking a plate of chicken fingers with me on stage. Three people tried to remove the chicken fingers from my hands on my way up to the piano, but I refused to part with my poultry.

3) I totally got all up in Betty Buckley's grill. Check it, kindly.



For the record, I found her not-at-all difficult to work with. And by “work with” I mean, “take this picture with.” And by “not at all difficult,” I mean, “very difficult.” Just kidding. She was too coked up to be anything but aggressively pleasant.

So, yeah. The best part of the night, though, happened just before I split. One of the dudes who runs Backstage (his name is escaping me) called me over. He puts his hand on my shoulder, looks into my eyes, and says:

BACKSTAGE GUY: Joe- congratulations. Remember, just keep on trying, Joe. No matter what people say about you- just ignore them and keep trying.

The fuck?! Are people taking about me? Is it just a widely known fact that Joe Iconis is on the lips of every smack-talker in town? All I know is- that man freaked me out hugely. Afterwards, I had to eat an inhuman amount of BBQ to get the taste of a creepy comment out of my mouth.

I am really upset tonight. My favorite toothpaste in the world appears to have been discontinued. Arm and Hammer Baking Soda and Peroxide Toothpaste. Can’t find it anywhere. They have Flavored Baking Soda and Peroxide Toothpaste, but not the straight-up good stuff. If anyone comes across any, kindly alert me to it’s whereabouts.

Speaking of BBQ- here’s a picture of me with the aformentioned Maddock and Lisitza.

Lorinda had some breathtaking cleavage action going on which I feel is accurately depicted in this photo. I think this picture is hilarious. It looks like the most busted Prom Photo of all time.

I was only kidding before about Betty Buckley being coked up. Obviously, she wasn’t. She seemed really nice. Wait- didn’t she have a notorious “substance abuse” problem years ago? Shit. Have I hit too close to home? Is Betty Buckley reading this right now?

BETTY BUCKLEY: Yes I am, Joe. I’m very disappointed in you. You seemed like such a nice boy when we met the other day. Now I think you’re nothing but a Shit-Mouth.
JOE: No! I actually really love you.
BETTY BUCKLEY: You’ve got a funny way of showing it, Shit-Mouth.
JOE: If you call me Shit-Mouth one more time, I’m sorta gonna slap you.
BETTY BUCKLEY: You fuckin pussy- go ahead. Hit an old lady, Shit-Mouth. Let’s see how many people will like you then.

[JOE strikes BETTY BUCKLEY. BUCKLEY pulls a knife from her garter belt. She waves the blade in JOE’s face.]

BETTY BUCKLEY: Wanna dance, Queer?
JOE: Bring it, Betty Fuckley!

[BETTY buries the knife deep into JOE’s chest. JOE crumbles onto the floor. With his last bit of strength, he touches BUCKLEY lightly on her face, and she falls down, dead. Sue cradles JOE in her arms as the curtain falls.]

I just ate, like, at least ten spicy pickles. I truly believe that pickles are one of the greatest foods ever invented. I feel very strongly about this.

-joe

"My beard grows down to my toes, I never wear no clothes..."

So, I’ve received a number of requests to post pictures of me sporting my new spanky beard. I realize that many of you are out of state and/or in prison, thus unable to see/touch/sniff the glory of my face fur in the flesh. That’s just not fair, man. So, without a further ado, here she is…

While many of my sweet friends have been aggressively pro-beard, the face-mane has it’s detractors, as well. (Interestingly enough, the beard is actually slightly less controversial than the 'stache was. But I digress.) Several normally-sane people have expressed feelings of disgust, outrage, and even paralyzing fear upon gazing at the glorious beard. I respect everyone’s opinions and I understand the reasons behind certain folks’ issues, but I can easily say that anyone who doesn’t like my beard is a Snatch Face. My beard rocks. It is the king of beards. That said, I don’t know how long I’m gonna keep the bad bastard, so dig it while you can.

Moving on. Yesterday, the trailer for the new Halloween remake was released. I’m a huge fan of Rob Zombie. House of 1000 Corpses was a solid, goofy horror flick, and The Devil’s Rejects is one of my absolute favorite movies of the last couple years. Remakes of classic films are always a bad idea (although I love the Gus Van Sant Psycho remake) and while I, (like every other movie fan) don’t understand why Halloween, of all things, needs to be remade, I am totally psyched to see what Zombie does with the material. The cast he’s assembled is fuckin exploding with coolass genre pic stars- Malcom McDowell, Brad Dourif, Danielle Harris, Dee Wallace-Stone, Dany Trejo, Adrienne Barbeau, Udo Kier, and Clint “Eaglebower” Howard. So maybe the movie will be all right? If the trailer is any indication- this bitch will suck it. The trailer is boring and tired and uses every trick in the trailer book. As I wrote about last week, sometimes creative types don’t always have a say in the publicity for their shit, so I’m hoping that this trailer bares little resemblance to the picture itself. Please, Rob Zombie, do not let this movie be ass. Please, please, please. And remember, one of the coolest things about the original was the fact that Jamie Lee Curtis had a serious case of ugly head. She looked plain and awkward and human. Don’t turn Lori Strode into some fucking fresh-off-the-WB Teen Beat Sugar Princess. Keep her real and relatable and geeky, just the way I like her. There. That’s all.

Because my cat is so overweight, he can’t preen himself properly and now has dandruff.

Does anyone who reads this really care about the Halloween remake? I feel like I just came down with a bad case of alienating my core audience. Which is, of course, slightly different from the aforementioned case of ugly head. And has nothing to do with my newly diagnosed case of repetitive turns of phrase.

I am home for Easter and this house reeks of bacon. It’s awesome cuz thinking about the ascension of Christ while smelling fresh bacon is one of my favorite things to do.

I went to Atlantic City on Friday night with my brother and my aunt. We were just about to leave and I noticed a little person working one of the roulette tables. As I hate tall people, I saw this as some kind of sign. It turned out that it was a sign that Little Croupier's fucking love to steal my hundred dollars. Evil Bastards.

But most of all I love Snickers Eggs.

When I said "little person" just there, I actually meant midget. I don't know what got into me. Sorry.

-joe

"You're not the only one with mixed emotions..."

So, a lot has happened in the world of Joe since my last blog post. The big thing, I s'pose, is that on Friday, the theater what is producing my show announced to the world that they were, in fact, producing the show. Yes, kids. The BLACK SUITS is a secret mistress no longer. My show has graduated from being the brother in THE PILLOWMAN whose parent's keep chained up in the hidden torture room to being Billy Crudup, the other brother... who is a writer... a writer whose refusal to change his words leads to him getting shot in the head by Jeff Goldblum .

At any rate, as many of you have already emailed/called me about, the blurb that appeared on all the theater websites was CLEARLY not written by me and makes the show sound kind of drag-ass. It is not. For those of you who were exposed to the Suits back in the day at NYU, please know that it is not that different. Two years have made it a better show, but it's still the same show. All the same songs and characters and it's still funny and loud and energetic and has lots of heart and stuff. For those keeping track- the latest version of the script has 34 uses of the word 'Dude," 68 uses of 'Man,' and whopping 113 uses of 'Fuck.' (Which includes all iterations of the F-Word... "motherfucker," "fucking asshole," "Fuck Sucker," etc.)

For those of you who have never seen/read/heard the Black Suits, this is what it's really about:

THE BLACK SUITS is a rock musical about a Long Island garage band. It’s about the friendship between a lead singer who gets panic attacks and a guitar player who sets things on fire. It is about dreams of fame, escaping the suburbs, blood, Pop Tarts, drug runs, The St. Anne's Battle of the Bands, blue hair, and the undying, transformative coolness of rock and roll music. Fuck, yeah!

Sound good? Sound enticing? Awesome. Buy a couple-a tickets. Incidentally, tickets will probably go on sale in ten million years, when the show actually opens.

So, yeah. I am, of course, very stoked about my show being produced, it's just the thought of having to wait Another year makes me sad and sort of sick-feeling. My cousin Doris Anne says I have no patience. She is very correct.

Moving on from matters theatrical, does anybody know of a bar that happens to have a piano where I can go and play just for the hell of it? I'm not talking about a piano bar. I'm talking a pub or honky tonk or maybe even a what-have-you where they just Happen to have a piano in the corner that is begging to be played by me. If anyone knows of a bar that fits this description, lay it on me.

I hate umbrellas.

In case anyone hasn't seen me lately, I am now sporting a full beard. I love my beard. It feels the way I imagine Bob Ross's hair might feel. Well, the way it might've felt when he was alive. Not now.

Dunkin Donuts is so crowded today. It must be this kickass too-cold-for-spring weather. I love this weather so much. I'm trying to desperately cling on to the winter- I miss it when it leaves. I actually said that to someone yesterday, and she replied: "Joe- you're crazy!" And then I was like: "Grandma, Fuck You," and I totally punched her right in the face. Oh grandma. Will she ever learn not to back-talk? Nah, probably not.

-joe