We met back in 2001 when Zuffa purchased the UFC, and he’s the one that convinced me to do commentary after seeing how big a fan I am of the sport. I’ve seen this sport explode from relative obscurity to one of the most popular sports in the world, and if it weren’t for Dana White, and massive balls of Lorenzo and Frank Fertitta this sport wouldn’t be anywhere near as popular as it is now.

Lorenzo and Frank, the owners of the UFC risked an incredible amount of money, and were DEEP into the red on this investment when the success of the Ultimate Fighter TV show finally launched this sport into the public’s awareness, and every fan on the planet owes them a debt of gratitude.
They were literally everything this sport needed; they were true fans of the sport with the brains, money and balls to make it popular.
On top of that, they’re cool as fuck.

The UFC has been the greatest job outside of stand up that I’ve ever had by a long shot, and I look forward to every single event. The entire production crew and everyone associated with the organization are a pleasure to work with, and I love them all.
So in closing, I’m not going anywhere, bitches!
See you guys in may!

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h7tq0IwPao0

One of the coolest things from the psychedelic movement of the 60’s that for some reason never really caught on with the mainstream is the isolation tank.
It’s an amazing invention by the late, great psychonaut John Lilly. He was trying to find a way to isolate the mind and the thoughts to be completely independent of the distraction of normal sensory input from the body- like touch, sound, sight, etc.

The idea being that if you could get away from all of the normal, natural signals and distractions your mind could function on a much deeper level.
What he came up with is a tank filled with water that’s heated to the same temperature as the surface of your skin, and it’s got 800lbs of Epsom salts in it, so that you float on the surface of the water. The water is heated to the same temperature as your skin, so when you lay in it after a while you can’t feel it.
Your ears are under water so you don’t hear anything, and when you close the lid of the tank you’re in complete darkness.
It’s a really freaky feeling, and at first it’s kind of hard to get comfortable.
Your brain isn’t used to the experience, so it’ll start giving you “busy work” - making you think that you’ve got to itch your nose, or move your arm or something, but if you can just breathe and relax you can get past this stage.
Once you learn to get comfortable it becomes amazing how clearly you can think and see things.

Being alone with your mind is a very odd feeling and it takes a while to get used to it.
Outside of the isolation tank there’s really no experience like it.
There isn’t another environment like it in the world; where you can go so quickly, so deeply into the human mind. It takes you to a place where it would take the average person many years of meditation to achieve a similar mind set, and it throws it at you right away.
For some people it can be really unsettling in it’s self-analytical effect. When there’s nothing to distract you from your thoughts it’s very difficult to ignore things that have been troubling you.
Any aspect of your behavior or your life that you’re unhappy with will be dragged out of the shadows of neglect and denial, and put on center stage with a giant spot light on it. If you’re the type of person that is trying to evolve and grow, it’s an amazing tool, but if you’re the type of person that would rather go through life with blinders on it’s going to give you a psychic beating.

I’ve had one for about 3 years now, and it’s helped me tremendously.
Initially I got the tank because I wanted to experience the psychedelic effects that I had heard it could bring, but at the time when I was thinking about that I was imagining wild, hallucinogenic visions. While it certainly can bring that, especially when you get really comfortable with the experience, another aspect that is just as psychedelic is the extreme introspection it provides.

It’s fascinating, but it hasn’t all been comfortable and fun. I’ve had quite a few experiences in there that were a little unsettling to say the least. In the long run though, it seems like those experiences are the ones that you really seem to grow from the most. For me, when I’m disappointed in my behavior, or the choices that I’ve made in my life the tank just makes those thoughts and memories so uncomfortable that it immediately makes me change my reaction to any future similar situations.
When you’re alone in the tank it’s a different kind of being alone.
It’s the kind of alone that just doesn’t let you bullshit yourself. If you were wrong, or off base about something, no matter how much you’ve been deluding yourself thinking that you were in the right, you’re going to see the whole picture with crystal clear clarity when you get into that tank.
You can just feel negative energy that you’ve caused or projected so clearly, and you can see how putting that kind of energy out there really is a choice, and it’s not a choice that you have to make most of the time.
You just have to approach it with that perspective.
The tank makes me see how we often live our lives on the momentum of the past, constantly defining ourselves by how we have already behaved, constantly cycling through a pattern of pre-determined thoughts moving around on these pre-arranged tracks, instead of running our time on this planet through a well considered, best-case scenario approach.

“I want to live my life in a way that, were I not me, and I saw that behavior, it would inspire me to be a better person.”
I know that sounds like some hippy, trippy horseshit, but isn’t it possible to live like that? Wouldn’t it make the world a far nicer place to live if everyone came to the true realization that the only way to truly be happy in this life is if you’re nice to other people?
Because truly, that is the only way, and if you ask basically anyone in the world what he or she wants most in life, it’s to be happy. Happy and in love, that’s the best feelings life has to offer, and the only people that want anything other than that, are the kind of people that need happiness and love the most.
The tank tries it’s hardest to steer you in that direction.

The real problem with that kind of thinking, of course, is that the world is infested with morons and douche bags.
Chances are I don’t need to tell you that, because you’re reading this on the greatest platform for scientific study of the common douche bag that has ever existed- the Internet.
No generation in the history of humanity has had a better look at the common douche bag than this one.
You think your grandfather knew what the fuck was up when he was 20?
What he didn’t learn from his neighborhood or see on “the Little Rascals” was all just speculation to him. They really had nothing else to go on.
Back then kids didn’t even know to avoid getting into a van with a clown. That move was actually still working 60 years ago.
Your grandfather’s knowledge of douche bags when he was 20 compared with the average college student of today, is like comparing what a blind man sees to a guy on mushrooms looking through a kaleidoscope.

Every fucking day I get a hundred or so links sent to me in the email, and 80% of them involve either a story, a picture, or a video of a douche bag in action.
Douche bags from all over the world. There’s soldiers throwing a puppy off a cliff, men stoning a young girl to death because she was in love with a boy from the wrong religion, a guy shits on his friend’s head while he’s sleeping – you can SEE all these things. Not just fucking hear about it, like that Richard Gere gerbil rumor - I’m talking you can actually experience watching each and every one of these things, and you can do it over and over again.
There’s never been a time like this ever.
We know SO much more about the average asshole than any healthy person has ever known about the subject throughout human history.
The average 15 year old of today has a better idea of what horrors people are capable of than a prison guard from the 1940’s.
So what I’m trying to say is that this certainly isn’t a perfect formula, this whole “be nice to everyone” thing. There are going to be moments in life where you run into said assholes, and you have to respond accordingly.
But what I’ve found in my life though, is that the nicer I am the less assholes I meet, and that my time in the tank has made me nicer.
The more I make a concerted effort to be positive, the happier I am. To me it’s like a much less annoying form of “The Secret.”

The really weird part of the tank experience comes once you get comfortable with the experience.
Once laying in this weird, warm, salt-water box becomes a regular thing, it becomes easier and easier to relax and go deeper and deeper.
To me, it feels as if there are layers of bullshit I have to peel away before I can get to what “me” really is. I always feel as if I’m following a series of machines on a network; each with their own specific job of making life move along, and that I have to recognize and understand how each one works in order to pass it and eventually get to the “source.”

The human systems go in a pretty predictable pattern that starts with my personality, and then connects to the various people I come into contact with in my life, and as I pass over that, I eventually branch out to an overview of people in general; egos, relationships, self discipline, then it starts to drift away from individuals, and go to examining cultures, human motivation, symbiotic life, universal consciousness, then slowly but surely it gets to “the place.”
“The place” is the ultimate goal - a state of consciousness at the center of it all where your “mind” doesn’t exist. It’s a place where the ego is temporarily forgotten, and where in the complete absence of sensory input you converge into “everything.” The more I get in the tank and go through the process, the deeper I can go, and the freaky thing is, it doesn’t seem like this experience has an end point. Every single time I get into the tank I get a little bit further, and a little bit closer to the source.

Whatever the fuck that “source” is, it’s very much like following the cords on a computer network to it’s source. Everything feels solid, tangible, and easy to follow - up until you get past the machines and to the spot where it all plugs into the wall, and then it all gets a little sketchy.
I mean, the computers, the keyboard – all that shit makes sense, they’re all solid items, but what the fuck is really going on past that plug in the wall? I mean, what the fuck is electricity all about?
The monitor you can touch, and when you move the mouse you can see the cursor respond, and that all seems to make sense, but what the fuck is going on when you follow those wires to the internet? The information you get from it is obviously real, but the concept behind it is so hard to wrap your mind around, really.
The “source” of it all. Well, there’s a “source” of it all for you, too. You’ve just got to slowly make your way though all of the components of your human network to get into contact with it.

Mystical visions have been a part of the growth of humans forever, but a lot of so-called “no nonsense” people may tell you that the pursuit of such visions are just a self indulgent waste of time. They will tell you that serious men and women of science have no use for seeing things that aren’t really there.
What’s hilarious about that, is that a visionary experience was the motivation behind the work of the man who invented modern analytical thinking, René Descartes.
He had a series of dreams in 1619 where the angel of truth came to him and explained to him how he was going to measure and define the laws of thought with mathematics.
It’s one of the main foundations of modern scientific thinking, and it came to him from an angel in a dream.
Pretty trippy shit, huh? And especially ironic considering that a lot of people who consider themselves to be scientific thinkers won’t put any thought into considering the influence or power of things that they can’t actually measure.

I think we may have to learn to accept the idea that there may very well be something that we’re all a part of that we’re not completely aware of - that we really are just a part of this huge, gigantic oneness of everything that we can’t really detect under normal circumstances because of our ego and our physical limitations.
Just because we can’t sense something doesn’t mean it’s not there.
One way that I like to put it that makes it easy to grasp is what I like to call “the fart analogy.”
The way it works is, if I cut a fart in front of you and you didn’t hear it, and you don’t have a nose, how would you know?
You wouldn’t have a clue, would you?
You would just be sitting in my stench, completely oblivious.
Well, I think it’s absolutely ludacris to think that all of our limited physical senses detect all of the energy around us all the time. Ever wave your hand over a colony of ants? They don’t have a fucking clue you’re there. You have to physically touch them before they’re even aware of your presence. How do we know that there are not an infinite number of different types of consciousness around us all the time that we’re just as clueless of as the ants are of us?
It’s much, much more likely that we’re only seeing a tiny fraction of the big picture, and the deeper you get into the tank experience the larger the piece of this infinitely big picture you’re able to see.

The bottom line about this life is that as of right now, it’s confirmed that it’s temporary.
You’re going to die, and no one knows what the fuck is going to happen when that moment occurs. There’s a lot of speculation, but until you cross over to the great beyond and come back to talk about it, I’ve got nothing to go on.
And if you DO cross over and come back, then you’re a fucking zombie, and I’m gonna hit you in the head with a shovel before you can steal my brains.
How weird is that, whenever someone dies and comes back to life, it’s ALWAYS a bad thing? They’re always walking around trying to kill everyone they meet and eat their brains. No one just comes back to life, and is like, “Hey, sup, I’m not dead anymore. You guys wanna go get some Chinese food? Nice to be back.”

Now, I know to the uninitiated this shit can sound like some spaced out nonsense, but that’s really because you haven’t experienced it! What I’ve given you with these words is the best description of it that I can give, but the only way to really know what the fuck I’m talking about is to try it. It’s 100% safe, and if you’re ever uncomfortable with the experience you can stop it at any time by simply getting out of the tank.
If you google “where to float” it’ll show you places where you can hopefully find a tank for rent close to you where you can try it out for a small fee.
That’s how I got started in this whole thing. I rented a tank at a place in Burbank, CA called “Soothing Solutions.” I then went on to buy a tank from the people that provided their tanks, The Samadhi Tank company.
Well, I recently had that tank replaced with a new, crazy high tech model, so I’m giving my old tank away online. To win it, simply sign up for my mailing list, and at the end of June I’m going to randomly pick a name on it.
As long as you live in the continental United States you’re eligible, and I’ll even pay for shipping and hire a guy to come out to your place and install it.
Watch the video at the top of this story for more details, and good luck!!

A lot of shit has been going on in the wacky space that I’ve been inhabiting, the weirdest one being that I decided to become a cam whore. Now, I’ve always admired the enterprising young ladies that could pay their rent by simply pointing a webcam at their well groomed butthole, but other than that, I never thought about any other possible uses for a webcam, until I was watching a live professional pool match on www.theactionreport.com where they had a chat room connected with the live stream where people can talk about the match.
The commentators were some players that I knew, so I said hi and we were talking back and forth. They would talk about the game, and they would also respond to the people in the chat room. I thought it was pretty cool, and I stayed on watching and chatting for a couple hours.

Doing it got me thinking that we should try something like that in the green room before the comedy shows, and we gave it a shot this past weekend in San Francisco.
We set it up at a couple of different sites, but the one that seemed to work the smoothest was www.justin.tv/joerogan We also set it up late at night in my hotel room, and it was almost immediately really weird. Within a couple minutes there was a hundred people in the chat room, asking questions about everything from marijuana, to moon landings, to death by horsecock. The crowd in the chat got even larger, and we fielded questions for hours.
Eventually Joey and Ari got tired and went to bed, and that’s when it was the weirdest.

It was like 3 in the morning, and here I am sitting by myself at a hotel room desk, staring into this little camera, and talking to my laptop.
I tried to relax, and just express myself honestly and be present with each question, but at least a few times I was in the middle of talking, and I couldn’t help but think, “How fucking weird is this?”
Am I really alone in my hotel room talking into my laptop to 260 people at 3 in the morning?
Really?

I eventually figured out that the best way to keep up with the scrolling questions was to lock onto one, and then look into the camera until I was done answering it, and then pick another one. I did this until some ridiculous hour in the morning, and the only reason why I stopped is because I had to get up for morning radio and I wanted to get at least a couple hours sleep.

To me it was like a completely new way of communicating with people. I mean, even radio shows have callers. This just seems so weird with only one guy talking. It was like some odd, hybrid radio/podcast thing. It’s a very strange formula; one person talking, hundreds asking questions, no moderation.

We did it again for a few nights in a row in the green room and back at the hotel room before we got a little burnt out on it. I think it’s one of those things that would be really fun to do once a week or so, so I think that’s how I’m gonna handle it.
I think what I’ll do is either post here or on the messageboard when I’m going to do it again, and try to put it on some sort of regular schedule.

The shows in San Francisco last week were some of the wildest and weirdest ones I’ve ever done.
Especially the late show Saturday night. That was a fun, fucking wild show. There was this cool ass deaf dude that showed up with his family and he had interpreters do my act in sign language to him. It was his first time ever at a comedy show, and the guy was a great sport. It was really strange wondering whether or not they were going to be able to translate some of my material, especially some of the weirder subjects, like DMT and fake babies.
The guy obviously had a great sense of humor and played along with me when I was asking him questions, and he even got one huge laugh from a gesture.
I asked him about the scientifically studied phenomena of where people that have a disability in one area have a massive advantage in other areas, like for instance; I heard that dudes that can’t hear are just unbelievable at eating pussy. The dude made a big smile and gestured to his wife. His timing was perfect. I explained his gesture to the folks that couldn’t see it, and they howled with laughter.
It was fucking hilarious, with just a gesture. Humor translated back and forth between two people, and an audience of over 400, and one of them doesn’t even talk. It was fucking awesome.

I’ve been working on a lot of new material lately, so comedy has been especially wild and slippery. Coming up with new bits has got to be one of the most rewarding things about comedy. It’s really fucking exciting watching new shit grow.
Whenever I start a new bit, it’s like the birth of this living idea, and I can see it change slowly with each time I’m onstage doing it. I can see it morph and shape.
Sometimes I’ve got a good idea, but I have to change the order of it, or sandwich it better between complimentary subjects. And sometimes, I just abandon the original premise and elaborate on another part of the joke and take it to a totally different direction.
The key just seems to be to write a lot and perform a lot. Fortunately for me those are two of my favorite things to do.
I’ve been doing stand up for almost 20 years, and I keep falling in love with the art form over and over again. I know it sounds kinda cliché and even potentially insincere, but at the risk of that, I just wanted to thank all the people that have been coming out and supporting my act. If it wasn’t for you people, I wouldn’t be having nearly as much fun. You guys are why I’m doing all this shit; the blogs, the messageboard stuff, the webcam – I’m trying to stay as connected as possible.
I’ve got some crazy, positive momentum I’m riding right now, and I want to share it with all of you.
Lots of crazy shit coming up soon. Sign up for my mailing list to stay updated on everything.
Thanks for tuning in.
It’s 12:44am in LA, and 8:45 AM the next morning in England. I just finished this blog, and I’ve got to land in London in an hour, and then catch a connecting flight in a couple more hours, and I haven’t slept a wink.
Tomorrow should be interesting…

Until then, check out this video of me on the Fernando and Greg show on 92.7 FM in San Francisco.
They’re two really cool, openly gay radio DJs, and doing their show is always a fucking blast.

I’ve always snored like a demon farting into a tuba, but I always just assumed it was because my nose has been broken a bunch of times and the cartilage inside it is all twisted. What really made me think about it differently was that my friend Joey was being treated for sleep apnea, and when I fell asleep next to him on the plane he said it sounded really bad, like I was gasping for air sometimes. Before that I really didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but when he started telling me what the effects of getting no air while you’re asleep are, and how much better he was feeling now since he started getting treatment for it, I decided to stop being such a stubborn douche and listen.
For whatever reason I just had it in my head that sleep apnea was something that only over weight people had to worry about. I just snored. I thought it couldn’t be a real “problem.”
Now that I look back on it I can’t see why I didn’t think there was something wrong earlier. There was many a time when I did nothing unusually strenuous, got a full 8 hours sleep, but when I woke up I still looked and felt like I was recovering from an Amy Winehouse evening.

After talking to Joey, the way I looked at it was, fuck it… it doesn’t hurt to just go talk to the doctor and see what he says. I had been thinking about getting my nose cleaned out for a while because I had mistakenly thought that was my problem, so I thought worst case scenario I’ll just go ahead and do that.
What the doctor explained kind of tripped me out, because I never even knew what the real cause for snoring is. What happens is that your tongue slides back in your throat and it blocks your air passage. It doesn’t matter if you’re skinny or fat; it’s all about how your tongue blocks your air passage. Well it turns out that I’ve got a big fat tongue, and that sucker blocks off my air passage like a motherfucker.

The doctor makes these mouthpieces that keep your tongue from sliding back and blocking your air, so the first thing they did was fit me for it, and then prescribe a sleep study for it so that they can see how bad I snore.
It was pretty weird, I showed up at this hospital, and they bring me into this little patient sleep room with a bed and computer. Then they connected all these electrodes on me like a fucking science fiction movie.

They monitored my breathing while I somehow managed to pass out, and then they woke me up and sent me home in the morning.
When I got the results back I was fucking shocked. It turns out that my air is getting cut off when I snore for as much as 18 seconds at a time, all night long while I sleep.
The doctor was shocked when she went over the results. She said it was pretty incredible that I was active as I am, and that I managed to stay in good shape even though I had this serious sleep problem. She assured me that once I started wearing my mouthpiece I would have a big increase in energy. I believed her, but the results are way more dramatic than I thought they would be.

I’ve been using it for about a week now, and I feel like a wet heavy coat has been magically lifted off my head and body. It’s amazing. I have energy all day long that seems to stay pretty much even throughout the day. I’ve NEVER had that.
I’ve always had bursts of energy followed by periods of laziness, followed by coffee.
Now all of a sudden I feel like a valve has been turned on in my body and this new life force is pouring out freely again.
It’s fucking nuts.

The really crazy thing is my dreams. They’re bright and vivid, and I can remember a great deal of them. That’s never been the case before. I can hardly remember any noteworthy dreams from the past few years, but I’ve had a half a dozen from this past week that are clear as day in my memory. And they seem to be in color.
I’ve heard that you dream in black and white, but that your mind decides to add color later when you’re recalling it, but in at least one of these dreams I remember being aware that I was dreaming, and thinking about how amazing the red drapes were in the room that I was in.
Emotions in my recent dreams have been so much more realistic than they’ve been in my past dreams, and when someone I know enters my dreams now it’s not as simple as a normal part of my life, like a regular character in my mind’s movie just showing their face, but rather a very deep inventory of all of the emotions that I’ve ever experienced with that person.
An ex girlfriend was in my dreams the other night, and I couldn’t move to the next phase of the dream until I experience whole gamut of past emotions with her, from laughter to honest conversation, to lust, to frustration, to sadness… it all plaid out like a checklist of potential experiences with this person. And the crazy thing is that I seem to be aware that it’s a dream.
At one point in the dream she stopped interacting with me and became someone I was watching detached. Like I had moved away, and was watching the whole scene from a distance.

Before I was wearing this mouthpiece my dreams would seem to hold to a pattern of some emotion, but lots of blurry memories and hard to follow narrative.
Now that I’m sleeping undisturbed for possibly the first time in my adult life, it’s like something in my mind has just turned on while I’m asleep. Like a whole new world of the dream time has opened up. It’s really kind of surprising that it’s so intense.

My whole point in writing this blog, was that if I hadn’t experienced it myself, I would never believe that something could have such a big effect on the way I feel.
If there’s anyone out there reading this, and you’ve been told you’ve got a snoring problem, do yourself a HUGE favor and get that shit taken care of.

The New Jersey Devils built a badass new arena in Newark, and we had a UFC there on one of the nights they were off. The arena was pretty fucking sick, and it’s being hailed as one of the signs that Newark is making a financial comeback.

I’ve got a lot of memories connected to Newark. I was born there, and I only lived there until I was 7, but when I was in my early 20’s I moved back there again for 6 months or so.
I was living in Boston during my early days in stand up, grinding out my days working for this hilarious private investigator, Dave Dolan, a great guy that’s still a good friend to this day, and I was trying to do my comedy at night. I was keeping up a crazy pace; I would deliver the Boston Globe in my car early every morning, 365 days a year to 300 houses, then I would work for Dave during the day, then head to the comedy clubs at night to pursue my dream of one day becoming a professional stand up comedian.
I would always look at these comics with their careers in order with great admiration.
I couldn’t imagine how great life must be when you get to the point where you can pay your bills by just doing stand up. I still remember that energized, hungry feeling I had back then thinking about it, and I call upon it for inspiration some days.

Back in those early days in Boston I was always tired. Trying to keep with all the shit I was doing was really taking a toll on me, but I had to keep doing it.
I was seriously exhausted all the time, so much so that I fell asleep once while in the middle of going down on my girlfriend. I’ll never forget the image burned into my mind of her disappointingly pushing my face and looking down at me, propped up on her elbows with eyebrows raised, saying, “Hey, you were snoring.”
I couldn’t even deny it.
Normally if you wake me up, for whatever reason I’ll almost always lie and say I was awake. I have no idea why I do it, and I try to stop it, but for whatever reason I’m just always pretending that I was already up.
Not this time, though. I just took my shame like a man.

I knew I had to make some progress in my life, and fairly soon.
Well, it was somewhere around that time when I met my current manager, Jeff Sussman.
Jeff was living in NY managing comics, and he and his number 1 client were about to part ways, so Jeff was searching for new talent. On a whim, Jeff decided to take a trip up to Boston and check out some of the local talent there.
I wasn’t scheduled to perform that night, but I had a new joke that I had written that day, so I called up the club and asked them if I could do a guest set.
I was driving home from work exhausted, and I’m sure I had thoughts of pussying out and just going home and getting some rest, but I plowed on.
I got to the club, and Oliver, the club manager was introducing Jeff to a few of the comics. I got to meet him, but he left before I went onstage - which to me at the time was no big deal. I didn’t really think I was ready to managed by a guy with as big a name in the business as Jeff, and the new joke I had come up with was dirty, and at the time I was brainwashed by the current thought process into thinking that dirty jokes were cheap and easy, and that to “make it” you had to work clean.
If Jeff had stayed to watch my act I probably would have tried to water it down, and I probably would have sucked.
I went onstage carefree and had a great set, and in the middle of my act, Jeff came back into the club because he heard a lot of laughter from outside.
When I came offstage Jeff was there waiting to meet me. He handed me his card and asked to see me perform again the next night.
I remember thinking that if I had known Jeff had returned to the club while I was onstage, I probably would have never done those jokes, and probably never had that good a set, and he would have probably passed me up and signed someone else.
At the time it really did feel like a scene in a movie. Coming offstage to a round of applause when a smiling man hands you his business card, and thus begins the next chapter of your life. Jeff has been my manager ever since.
He’s a bad motherfucker, and the coolest guy in the business.

Jeff signed me 2 weeks later, and wanted me to move to NY.
I was basically scratching and grinding at the time, so I didn’t have any money saved up for the move. Lucky for me my Grandfather still lived in Newark, and he offered to let me stay with him.
North 9th street was a nice neighborhood when my grandfather moved his family there in the 1940’s, but over the years shit had drastically changed. By the time I got there in 1990 he was surrounded by poverty and crime. The next door neighbor’s house got raided for selling crack right before I moved in, and there were plenty of stoplights on the way to Grandpa’s house where my doors were always locked and I was always ready to hit the gas. I stayed there for 6 months until I had saved up enough money for my own place, and to this day whenever I think about Newark, I think about my frame of mind back then. It just comes right back to me in clear focus.

Having the UFC in Newark was a huge memory flash for me. My grandfather died in the mid nineties, and I hadn’t been back there since his funeral. Driving around, staring at all the buildings, it was the same feeling all over again. Some places just have a “feeling” that you get when you’re there, and to me, there’s no place that rings out in my memories quite like Newark.

One of the best parts of my trip was that I got to hang out on the radio all morning with Opie and Anthony and little Jimmy Norton. It’s one of my all time favorite radio shows to do, because that’s really what it’s like - hanging out. It barely feels like you’re doing radio. It just feels like you’re involved in a funny conversation with some really cool guys. I’m on their show every time I’m back east, and it’s one of the things I look forward to the most.

We started out the morning talking about psychedelic drugs because they had story they were reading about kids getting DMT from toads, and we spent the next couple hours having a trippy conversation about psychedelics, crazy dreams, and sensory deprivation tanks.
O&A have a cool set up, where they do regular FM restricted radio in the first part of the morning, and then from 9-11am they go on XM satellite radio where they can go balls out.
Like virtually every radio show, O&A have a bunch of regular people that visit them on air, and one of them is a 50 year old virgin that they call “Stalker Patty.”
This is where the “balls out” part comes in, this time very literally.
Opie came up with the idea of giving patty a Listerine breath strip and telling her that it’s actually laced with THC, the active ingredient in Marijuana.
For over an hour we had her convinced that she was high as the satellite that was broadcasting our signal. It was both amazing and hilarious for a bunch of reasons; first off being that she fell for it hook, line, and sinker. There wasn’t a moment where she questioned it, and watching the power of suggestion work so effortlessly was just fucking fascinating. We had her scratching at imaginary bugs, they were fucking with the sound coming into her headset so that she heard everyone’s voice echo. Everyone was making weird noises and chanting, and she thought she was so high she couldn’t stand up.
They had guys that work on the show dress up in outfits, like a monster and a giant bunny rabbit, and just walk through the room while no one addressed them.
Then Ari pulled his junk out and we had her convinced that was an illusion too.

At one point in time I told her that she was going to be fine after the drug wore off, but one thing that was very important was that she shouldn’t lay back and close her eyes, because if she did she would instantly fall asleep.
Something like a half an hour later someone offered to recline her chair back and suggested that she rest her eyes. As soon as she did, she was out like a light. Instantly.
It was fucking crazy. Within seconds she was snoring into the mic.
The power of suggestion is just fucking incredible.
Granted, we were observing it working on a simpleton, but it was so effective it made me think; could you imagine if there was someone out there so much smarter than me that they could do that to me just by talking to me?
I like to tell myself that’s not possible, but when you watch another human being get drawn in like that – 100%, completely spellbound, it really makes you wonder.
“Biggie, biggie, biggie can’t you see, sometimes your words they hypnotize me…”

I had a show late Friday night at Caroline’s on Broadway, and the turn out and the crowd were amazing. The show didn’t start until 1:30am, and there was a line of people down the block freezing their asses off waiting to get in.
To them, I say thank you very much. I really appreciate everyone coming out, especially for such a late show on a Friday night. The crowd was drunk and rowdy, but that’s to be expected from a group of people that have probably been up since 7am, worked all day, and then had to fucking freeze outside waiting at 1 in the morning to see a comedy show. Taking that into consideration, they were remarkably well behaved. The show was completely sold out, standing room only, and only one guy got thrown out, and even he was cool, he was just too drunk to know when to shut the fuck up.

I got to meet a bunch of people after the show and take pictures with them, and it was truly a pleasure. I met a bunch of different people that drove down to the show from different states because I’m so rarely on the East Coast these days. To them, and everyone else I just want to say I’m honored. It’s people like you guys that make all of this so worthwhile, and your enthusiasm enriches me and inspires me more than you could possibly know.
After the show we prowled the streets until 6am with Chuck Zito and the Tapout crew, and a great fucking time was had by all.

The next day I woke up to do my dream job – hosting the UFC. Out of all the gigs that I’ve ever had in my career, there’s none that I enjoy more than that UFC.
I’m a huge fan of the sport, and I feel very fortunate to have the opportunity to work for the best Mixed Martial Arts organization in the world. I’ve been doing commentary for over 5 years now, and I still have to pinch myself every time one of these events is about to start. The excitement of the UFC is really like nothing else in all of sports. Its just competition stripped down to it’s raw core - free of distractions like balls and field goals and time outs.
Nothing but 2 men furiously executing skills against each other that they have honed through countless hours of work and sacrifice playing the ultimate game with both the ultimate risk and reward. I fucking LOVE it.
I can’t believe it’s really my job. I’ve often thought that my life has been so fortunate that so many times it really does feel like it’s all a dream.
Maybe in some parallel continuum it really is. Maybe there it’s still 1990, and I’m still face down asleep in my girlfriend’s pussy, dreaming of this magical life I’m living.

Another thing we have on the internet is answers.
Not just answers to regular questions like, “what is the speed of light,” or “who really killed Kennedy,” but those questions that we never thought we would have answers to if we lived a normal life. Questions that come up after the 4th bong rip… Questions like, “Do you think there’s dude’s out there that actually WANT to get fucked in the ass by pigs?”
Now, back in the days before the internet, you were dealing with pure speculation for the most part. I mean, back in the day if the subject came up there was usually one dude that knew someone that had a tape of some chicks having sex with animals, but the question of whether or not there were guys out there getting fucked by animals… no one really knew.
Today, all you have to do is click this link and you can watch it.
Shit, there’s entire sites dedicated to it! Sites that anyone with an iphone can get to standing pretty much anywhere in America where there’s a cell signal.

That’s some pretty amazing progress. I know it’s silly to think in terms of a video of a dude getting fucked in the ass by a pig as having anything to do with progress, but it really is if you think about it. It’s the ultimate expression of the progress of the access of information now as opposed to when there was no internet. Something that was once very, very hard to come by is now instantly accessible all over the world.

Today, I’m going to add to the current of fucked up videos out there on the net, and we’re also going to add to the current of videos of people reviewing fucked up videos on the net.

First, the new one. It’s all about my friend Ari’s butthole.
Now, how exactly did this come up? Definitely a legitimate question.
We were doing a gig together in Austin, TX and when I was onstage Ari was in the green room taking a shit. Apparently Brian was filming him because Ari had the door open, and at one point in time Ari showed them his butthole to gross them out.
Little did he know how gross it really was.
I would imagine that like most people, Ari really didn’t know what his butthole looked like. I know I sure couldn’t pick mine out in a line up. I’m not saying I haven’t looked at it in the mirror before, because I certainly have, but looking at a photo of it on it’s own without me upside down staring into the mirror for context, I doubt if I would truly recognize it.
Well, it just so happens that my good friend Ari has a very unusual butthole.
I think I’ll just leave it at that.
Sit back, strap in your seat belts and enjoy the UN-CENSORED version of one of the funniest videos we’ve ever made.
Enjoy!!

Pretty fucking nasty, huh?
Speaking of pretty fucking nasty, I’m sure a lot of you have seen the latest video floating around called “two girls and 1 cup,” right?
If you haven’t it’s easily one of the grossest videos ever. You can see it here.
It’s so shocking that there’s a whole ton of really entertaining videos out there of people watching it for the first time.
We filmed one of me watching it, and then me showing my friend Brian watching the BME Pain Olympics and me filming him.
The BME pain Olympics is fucking NUTS. It’s these dudes cutting their dicks off, slamming hatchets into their balls, cutting their testicles out… it’s fucking INSANE.
You can find the BME Pain Olympics here.
And the video of us watching 2 girls 1 cup and the pain Olympics here:

I’ll be at Caroline’s on Broadway this Friday night for one show at midnight, along with Ari Shaffir and his shocking butthole. If you’re nice enough to him after the show, I’m sure he’ll let you see it. Hell, he might even let you take pictures with it!
To find out about future shows, please sign up for my mailing list here.
As soon as the new front portal for this site is done I’m going to have weekly contests where we draw from the list and give people free tickets to shows and we’re going to film the winners and put it on youtube. With your permission, of course.
I’ll be on Opie and Anthony Friday morning on FM and XM radio, and I’ll see you at the UFC Saturday night!

For some reason I haven’t heard it talked about much in the news, but in response to the San Diego wildfires, FEMA, the Federal Emergency Management Agency in a desperate attempt to polish up their image that was so badly tarnished by their shitty handling of the whole hurricane Katrina disaster decided that the best way to come out of this smelling like roses was to fake a press conference.

http://politicalticker.blogs.cnn.com/2007/10/27/fema-under-fire-for-faking-news-conference/

No shit.

If you can fucking believe this, they actually were retarded enough to use FEMA employees to pose as reporters and toss underhand, softball questions at a fella named Harvey E. Johnson, the agency’s deputy director.
For shame, you deceptive, incompetent fucks.
Not that it’s surprising that the government can be full of shit, but actually going out of their way to fake a news conference is pretty fucking crazy.
Even the white house came out and condemned it. I guess after they got busted with that whole Jeff Gannon fiasco they’re a little more careful about how they disseminate their propaganda. Now, if you don’t remember Jeff Gannon, he was the fake reporter for a fake news agency (Talon news) that was employed as a Bush white house reporter for two years, and got to attend all the press conferences and ask easy questions laced with pro-Bush rhetoric until it was discovered that he was also running a bunch of gay prostitution websites.
Yikes!!
Now he’s a right wing blogger (http://www.jeffgannon.com/) who brags on his website about sitting at the head table at a National Press Club luncheon with Dick Cheney and his wife. Busted for being a closet cocksucker and a fake reporter, and then 2 years later breaking bread with the evil puppet master at a public function.
Straight Gangsta!!

The absolute fucking craziest shit that I saw in regards to the fire though, was hands down this report of Fox News where they speculated that Al Qaeda might have been responsible for the fires. Seriously, it feels like we’re living in a movie more and more every day. People just CAN’T be that stupid really, can they?

It’s all rotting out from under us, folks. I’m not sure if it’s even possible to fix this fucked up world we live in at this point, but I am positive that there’s a whole lot to laugh at.
Come out to see me this weekend, we will drink, we will smoke, and we will laugh while the world flies to pieces around us.

House of Blues Anaheim 11|01
November 1, 2007 9:00pm
House of Blues - Anaheim
1530 South Disneyland Drive
Anaheim , CA
(714) 778-2583
Website: House Of Blues

4th and B San Diego 11|02
November 2, 2007 8:00pm
4th and B San Diego
345 B Street
San Diego , CA
(619) 231-2131
Website: 4th and b

The Canyon Club 11|03
November 3, 2007 8:00am
The Canyon Club
28912 Roadside Drive
Agoura Hills , CA
(818) 879-5016
Website: Canyon Club