Michael Showalter: Quirkin' His Chicken

I woke up early this morning, the hour was not ungodly but my faith in the body's natural restorative powers was a little shaken. Still feeling the fuzzy edges of a L'Shana Tova food coma (courtesy of Ariel Beery and his white-clothed Shamanistic family) and no longer aroused from The Library's showing of a Japanese bikini girl gang movie (not exactly courtesy of Eli Valley but I think he helped set the mood by not offering to buy a 2nd round of drinks), I decided to pass dawn's early blight with an advance copy of Michael Showalter's debut comedy album "Sandwiches & Cats" on JDub Records.

Now I'm in a utility bathtub covered in honey, pieces of abortive red fruit (don't eat the skin! it's like chocolate to dogs or something) in my hair, apple slices just out of bad back's reach, past second-guessing my mention of Abe Foxman and the ADL's Armenian Genocide denial at last night's dinner (I think I made a British guy cry), realizing now that my "chai tech" remark was not original, but with a little help from Michael Showalter I'm ready to welcome the new year. Happy or not, here we come.

Review: I laughed and punched my pillow through the whole CD. It's quirky!