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Dude’s got problems:

Choose Malone’s Adventure: Season 1, Episode 3 from ROAR Network on Vimeo.

Vote HERE to tell him what to do
Thanks for watching!

Got another article up on College Humor! I like this one a lot:

SAT Questions That I Wish I Had Gotten Right Before Going to College

Also, here’s one I wrote for them that slipped through the cracks; I’ll throw it up here for all three of you to enjoy!

MASCOT OBITUARIES

Presenting Episode Two of my Hangover -esque interactive college comedy, "Choose Malone’s Adventure":

And don’t forget to vote for the plot of the next episode here:

ROAR Network

Thanks for watching!

…so, consequently CollegHumor.com is now publishing my stuff.

Yay recognition!

Boo continued poverty!

Anyway, here they are:

WALDO’S TRAVEL TIPS

SUMMER MOVIE WRAP-UP! BY YOUR EX-BOYFRIEND

Oh right, I have this blog.

ATTENTION ALL: my new show, The Real Housewives of William Shakespeare, developed with and directed by the incomporable Ray Chao, is running all month at the Second City Theatre in Hollywood! I’m really proud of this one, so please check it out if you can!

• WHEN: Every Thursday in July (7, 14 , 21, 28) at 8PM.
• WHERE: Second City (65 Sixty Hollywood Blvd.)
• WHAT ELSE: $10 at the door, show runs a tight hour
• LINKS: Tickets, Facebook Event,
• WTF:

The Real Housewives of William Shakespeare follows eight of the Bard’s most memorable heroines and villainesses as they struggle with status, fashion, hair-weaves, celebrity sex tapes, and other pitfalls of the rich and fabulous. This new show weaves elements from many immortal plays and many, many inconsequential reality TV episodes together into one cohesive narrative. It re-imagines Lady Macbeth as a domineering stage mother, Desdemona as a modern day Nicole Brown Simpson, Viola as an abused personal assistant, and Ophelia as an eccentric designer obsessed with Jared Leto. As the housewives vie for control of a charity fashion event, Puck, a washed-up 90s R&B star, has plans of his own to shift the balance of power.

Written entirely in verse with a mix of modern and Shakespearean slang, “RHWS” is funny enough that anyone can enjoy it, but provides a special thrill for fans of Shakespeare’s writing and Bravo’s programming alike. Complete with such classical staples as mistaken identity, a musical number, soliloquy/confessionals, and of course many, many deaths, “RHWS” is the show that finally gives a group of over-privileged housewives the Shakespearean treatment they richly deserve!

Heyo,

Here’s something I made for ROAR, the student-run TV network where I’m going to graduate school. It’s an interactive comedy for the undergraduate community on campus. Which option would you choose?

Like a deranged elephant baby expelled from my creative womb, the FINAL WEBISODE of Stephen King High School: the Musical! enters the world today:

Thanks to all those who watched and tolerated my grassroots marketing efforts! It’s been a wild ride to get you chuckling at your monitor…and worth every minute.

Definition:

"The second-to-last episode of the SKHSM Web Series which happens to feature a zombie mother."

Next up: the Finale!
One last scorching parody from which neither franchise is likely to recover.
Let’s bring it home…

The love ballad from Chapter 5 of "Stephen King High School: The Musical!" is the heart of the show and probably the best song that I’ve ever written. My friend Sam Rosenberg (who plays Danny) and I composed this one together in an empty synagogue on the upper east side, oh so many months ago.

Dear Internet,

Ah, the holidays in Los Angeles! I’d wondered if the Christmas spirit could survive without massive snow drifts and bone-snapping cold to hammer home the cheer. I’m proud to report that LA Yule feels just like everything else in this town: seductively artificial with a savory hint of desperation.

I’m almost four months into my LA residency, and it’s time to reflect on some highlights and lowdarks (new word bonus!)

I just finished an internship running scripts for the local morning news. This means that on Mondays and Wednesdays I got up at 3AM to work on the hourly broadcasts from 4:30am to 10am. My job was to bring the scripts to the anchors just before they read them live. So essentially, when an anchor said "this just in," and grabbed a piece of paper from off camera, I was the one handing it to them. It was a great experience, especially in terms of celebrity sightings: I got to drool creepily in the general direction of Mary Louise Parker, share a bathroom with Mario Lopez, and gape in astonishment at the wildly successful train-wreck that is Antione Dotson. It was great to keep so informed, hearing the breaking news stories develop every hour throughout the morning. At the same time, some days you just don’t want to hear the words "suspected rapist" two dozen times before 9am.

A few other pros and cons of LA living: for my money, this city’s biggest downfall is parking. I don’t mind the driving so much; even being stuck in traffic, there’s something about rocking out to early-nineties hip-hop in my slammin’ Ford Focus that makes me smile (note to my hippie friends: I know I’m killing the planet, I’m sorry, I walked around new York for a decade, isn’t that enough?) HOWEVER, as fun as cars can be, there seem to be more of them on the road here then there are places to put them. Hours of my life have been spent slowly circling my apartment, looking for a space that doesn’t exist…hours that I will never see again…gone now, gone forever.

Other items of note: people are on time here. It’s weird, I didn’t think they would be, but in LA, 9pm actually means 9pm, as opposed to in new York, where it means 11:30.

And lastly…I imagined that moving to LA would leave me stranded in the land of beautiful people; I was half right. Los Angeles is crawling with eye-meltingly gorgeous dudes. That’s right, I say this with as much heterosexuality as I can muster, the dudes here are a collage of chiseled, high-cheekboned perfection. The girls here don’t so much do it for me: too tan, too emaciated. But the dudes…wow, those dudes.

That’s enough reflection and emasculation for one morning. I’m off to decorate my palm tree. Happy holidays to you and yours (and to gorgeous dudes everywhere).