The Blog Roast

Good evening, and welcome to the fabulous Boom-Boom Room, here in the unfinished basement of the Hotel Sheets. Yes, there's music, gaiety, and dancing in the Hotel Sheets nightly! We are pleased to be here for this event [our other choice was an abandoned McDonald's off the Interstate]. You're probably wondering why I'm hosting my own roast. Well, I contacted all the comics I know [short list]. They all said they wouldn't be caught dead here. So, being old-school, I contacted the Ghosts of Dean Martin, Paul Lynde, and Buddy Hackett [Relax Max says he's a hoot]. Dean and Paul said they wouldn't be caught dead here, and Buddy wanted too much!

Anyway, we've only got 90 minutes for this extravaganza. The Foonman bat mitzvah has the room for the rest of the night. So let's break out the funny! First up is The Aging Disco Diva. I first ran into the Diva when I was trying to find somewhere to dump EntreCards. Who knew she could write? Nobody who's actually read her posts! Seriously, Her Divaness has had trouble with those storms that are crunching her beloved Kansas. She made a big effort to get this post out, so show some bonus Love for The Aging Disco Diva!

[entrance music - Get Down Tonight - KC And The Sunshine Band]

I delegated the task of writing a "post roast" to honor Mike’s 100th posting to my flying monkeys but all they came up with was:

His Tomato

Was the salmonella type

Until his beard

Grew over-ripe

Burma-Shave

Sigh, the damn things have gotten into my banana schnapps again, I can hear them hooting and flinging pooh in the next room… cripes, it is getting so hard to find good chattel in this day and age. Anyway, congrats on your 100th post. The diva adores After Midnight because it is highly amusing but yet requires its readers to possess an IQ greater than a ripe kumquat. I find myself agreeing with what Mike writes more often than not, which of course is not considered a compliment in 43 states, but like my momma often said “Honey, that's ok, you’re special” So Mike, keep the blog entries coming, your public (and my inebriated flying monkeys) demand it.

Once more for The Aging Disco Diva! She was going to bring the Flying Monkeys tonight, but if you think American Airlines charges a lot for checking your luggage, imagine what shipping the Monkeys would cost! Their bar tab alone would bankrupt Her Divaness!

We didn't plan it this way, but it turns out the first half of this roast is from Kansas. So I Googled "Kansas", and found out a few fascinating facts:

-the state motto is: "We're boring, and nobody cares. Nobody."

- Kansas is home to three claimants of "The World's Largest Ball Of Twine"

- it stopped bleeding after the Civil War. Don't bring any more bandages, for the love of God!

-"Carry On Wayward Son" was recorded by the rock group Kansas. As soon as it reached #1, they peeled out of the state and haven't been back since

-and finally, Kansas is home to part of "Tornado Alley". Its original name was "Hello Kitty Lane", but those damn Japanese manufacturers won a lawsuit.

Margie and Edna live in the fictitious community of Jericho, Kansas, just as I live in the fictitious community of Niagara Falls, NY. Although they seemed obsessed with some TV show [I can understand that; I'm obsessed with "Teletubbies". And not in a healthy way!], they are two of the more charming bloggers you'll be reading tonight. Without no doubt, they are Margie and Edna!

[entrance music - "Dust In The Wind" - Kansas]

Margie: Edna, this is a first. I've had a gentleman invite me to look at his blog. His name is Mike Riley and he lives in Buffalo, New York. All I can say is that, if he lives near those Niagara Falls, he might want to think about going over them and taking his blog with him.

Edna: He invited us both, you hussy, so don't you act like you're something special. I've had a look at his blog, and I think it's safe to say that he does seem to enjoy the sound of his own voice. Some of what he types is quite funny. But Margie, tell me something: do you think it's possible to be so funny that you actually drive blog readers away?

Margie: Edna, I don't think anybody can be too funny but they can sure be too silly. Look at this where he says, "It's always midnight somewhere." Well, duh! Only a dunce like you, Edna, wouldn't know that without him having to say it.

Edna: You ninny, we’re supposed to be roasting Mr. Riley and his blog, not each other, so I’ll thank you to aim that forked tongue in another direction. You know what, on second thought, maybe you’d better spare the poor man. After reading his blog, it looks like he’s got enough of his own problems to deal with without having to listen to you, too.

Margie and Edna! Margie and Edna! I want to thank them for taking part in this "all-you-can-eat character assassination". We're sending them back to Jericho via the Senile Snail, tickets courtesy of Amtrak!

Before we go any further, I want to acknowledge an e-mail that we got from "Grumpus", purveyor of When Things Get Dark. We had hoped Big G would be a part of tonight, but scheduling conflicts came up. Oh, well. Anyway, "Grumpus" notes:

Congratulations for hitting that milestone with a great blog yet, with none of this money-making or what-my-cat-did stuff... ;-)
have fun
and thank you
G

Believe me, Grumpus, if I could make any money doing this, I would. And my cats do things no decent person wants to know about, including posing regularly for I Can Haz Cheeseburger?. Oh, the shame!

Anyway, next to the podium is Laura. In promoting this page-filler, I mentioned her only as the creator of That Grrl. To be fair, she's also the stick-figure champion of her native Canada, an accomplished photographer, and spells better than I do, even with SpellCheck [or Cheque, as I believe it's spelled Up North]. Anyway, she's chosen to grace us this evening as That Grrl. And here she is!

[entrance music - The Bitch Is Back - Elton John]

Knowing Mike is a night time deejay... I just imagine a smooth operator voice, sweeping out over the night, like velvet. Skimming through the air waves with music and conversation to keep the night flowing. Heard but not seen. Just like those critters crunching under your boots in the dark of night.
Mike is one of the very few people who pines for a book called Comparative Philosophy. According to Mike's blog post, that book gave him the best sleep he has had since he lost his virginity. Well, actually it wasn't clear whether he meant his virginity or his sanity.Usually men seem to lose one while trying to lose the other so it could be he lost both a long time ago.
To quote Mike, "Just, please, please, please keep my name out of this." Too late! I won't go into all the details about the flashing incident at the BHM are Better Convention. However I am keeping the photos.
--
Happy Anniversary!

Laura! That Grrl! You would bring up that unfortunate incident at the Convention, wouldn't you? Don't worry about saving the photos, though; I'm bringing them out in book form next Spring! I've dared three different publishing houses to put it out, and I'm sure one of them wants to avoid the "wuss-boy" taunt.

Boy, this little soirree has turned into the Stalingrad of posts, hasn't it? I think it's time to move onto our anchor. Relax Max, "The Last Cranky Man", is currently presiding over The Slap And Tickle, as well as supervising operations at BritishSpeak. Max has asked me to remind you that, in honor of this roast, your first drink served with a thong tonight at "The Slap And Tickle" is half-price. Max has also asked me to remind you not to take the thong with you. The poor guy is running out of underwear!

Ladies & gentlemen, Relax Max!

[entrance music - Relax - Frankie Goes To Hollywood]

What can you say about a blogger who is admired, revered, and loved by everyone? I could say a lot about such a person, but, instead, I have been invited to speak about Mike Riley.

I have quite a few friends in the blogging community now, and I will admit I approached several of them about this invitation to help roast Mike. They all responded as one:
“Who?”

That’s not true. In fact, I received several congratulatory emails from these blogging friends. I was going to print some of them in this little speech. Unfortunately the emails were all congratulating themselves that they hadn’t been the one asked to help roast Mike.
So, you can see there is no middle ground with Mike Riley. Either you hate him and his work, or you despise him. Frankly, I am no different - and I know you value the truth, Mike - I have never never liked you. And I suppose I always will.

Mike is in the process of celebrating the milestone of his 100th blog entry. Naturally I decided to go back and read a few and look for some interesting material for this roast. It only took me two before I realized “interesting” just wasn’t going to happen. I’ll take your word that there are 100 of them Mike - I sure as hell aren’t going to read them all. Or even count them all.

Mike works for a radio station in Niagara Falls, New York. He works the early morning hours. That’s where the name “After Midnight” came from. Cool, huh? Mike doesn’t know this, but I used to work in advertising for a radio station once. I soon learned not to bother making small talk with the jocks because it was too much effort to dumb down my IQ so they could understand me.

Let me tell you a little bit about how radio works, programming-wise. First, you’ve got your morning drive and your afternoon drive. You’ve got mid-days, and you’ve got evenings. Those are the things that make the radio station money.
Then you have late-night. Late-night exists because it is not economical to turn off the transmitter from midnight to 5 am, and because you can always get an alcoholic has-been jock to work the shift for minimum wage. Sometimes you can even make him do a little production for the same money.
Mike is what is called a late-night jock. Worthless as shit, in other words. Most of the late-nighters I came across didn’t even own a pair of socks. True. Give them some weed, and they won’t even remember when payday is.

When you think of Mike Riley, you need to keep that mental picture in your mind, just so you don’t get to thinking his blogging is somehow higher-classed than his radio job. Also, in case you missed it, let me repeat: Mike lives in Niagara Falls, New York.

Now, I’m not here to run down the U.S. side of Niagara Falls. Lord knows that dirty boarded up town doesn’t need any help from me in the “Running Down” department. But remember this contributes to Mike's overall "mystique", okay? I mean, let’s face it, he doesn’t HAVE to live in Niagara Falls, New York. In fact, if he likes the name so much, there is CLEAN version right across the river, right?
Well, enough about Niagara Falls, New York. I’m sure it will improve once Mike gets fired and moves out. Which is bound to happen as soon as they find out he’s blogging on company time.
I’m almost finished, and I still haven’t been able to find anything good about Mike Riley. Believe me, I tried. I looked and looked. And finally I found out that Mike really does have one claim to fame. Since he started blogging, Google has had to add a lower number to their page-rank system. So, all of you shitty bloggers out there, you have Mike Riley to thank for that.

Hang in there Mike. We all love you. You simply aren’t a threat to any of us.

Relax Max! Mister Civility! Relax Max! Thank you, Max. You know, I'm okay with all you said about Niagara Falls. But there's a group of rats, winos and city officials [please don't ask me which is which!] that would like a word with you after we're done here. They say you're lowering property values.

Normally, this is the part where the Roastee has a chance for rebuttal against his Roasters. But you know, I've never enjoyed kicking emotional cripples when they're down. I'll just quote another great man who was once in this situation, one Howard Cosell:

"You've all been shooting spitballs at a battleship".

With that, I just want to thank my flayers, The Aging Disco Diva, Margie & Edna, That Grrl, and of course, Relax Max.

Thank You, and Goodnight!