Conan and Sandler Flip Off NBC, Jersey Shore Rips Off This Blog

Last night was noteworthy as far as Schiff Happens late night tv watching is concerned, which is completely unrelated to the fact that this post is first going up around 3pm. Completely unrelated.

First, Adam Sandler made a fantastic appearance on the Tonight Show as one of Conan OBrien's final guests (check the full show here to see how Conan wasted $1.5 million of NBC's money, and witness the return of an old furry friend). Sandler, rocking the faded green Jets tee (Gang Green don't say I never gave you any love!), serenaded the host and revealed the story of how he and Chris Farley didn't leave Saturday Night Live on their own terms but were actually fired by NBC in 1995 despite being pretty much the funniest humans on the planet at the time. The moment recalled better days at SNL and NBC, when Conan, Sandler, Farley and a generation of standard-bearing comedians collaborated each week to produce some of the most hilarious moments we've ever witnessed. But it also served to show that genius truly is so often unappreciated in its time. The interview fittingly ended when Sandler summed

things up with his then-manager's reaction to the situation those 15 years ago (and Smellson's new favorite quote from now on I can almost guarantee), "NBC: Nothin But C***s!"

After that, I caught "Jersey Shore: Spoof'd!" on MTV. It has apparently been rerunning for a week already, but try as I might, I can't be everywhere this insanely overexposed show is all the time, so I was seeing it for the first time. It was a collection of all the spoofs and sketches that have been passed around to no end since the show stormed into our lives as the greatest reality train wreck in television history, and was noteworthy for just one reason: If the guidos liked a clip, they threw a fist pump as a seal of approval, complete with a fancy graphic.

This is important because, as my tens of faithful readers will no doubt concur, the whole gimmick, is just a repackaged ripoff of The Jersey Fist - my Jersey Fist! I invented rating things on a scale of fist pumps, damn it! I had even just recently resized this photo, featured in this post, to serve as our new official Jersey Fist in future posts.

It's the same as MTV's graphic! Unbelievable. These are the perils of being famous. You pay homage to the glory of the great Garden State and a bunch of Sleaseside guidos rip you off.

So how do we plan to fire back at this outrage, you ask? Well, Schiff Happens is here to officially announce the Jersey Shore Boycott! Won't you join me? Just say "No" to guidos!

Just kidding. I could never stay mad at you, Shnookieshpookies. Finale party is officially on tonight, and the RonRon juice will be flowing! Drop me a line for details. Until then, can we please get Snooks into one of those Snickers commercials? I can see it now...

Inside Karma, a crowd of guidos are battling on the floor.

Voiceover: "Hungry? Grab a Snickers!"

Russ aka "Ron" grabs Snooki and takes her for a piggy-back ride to the beach, where he proceeds to not fuck her. Snooki returns to the house, dejected.

Snookers: "Waaahhh! Nobody wants to f*** me in this town! What the f***?! I'm the f***ing Princess of F***ing Poughkeepsie!"

RonRon: "Still not smushed, err, satisfied? Would you f*** a Gatorade bottle at this point? Try one of these."

Tosses Snickers a Snickers, who voraciously sucks the nuts out of the candy bar, then proceeds to do herself with it.

Snooks: "What? I eat it a certain way!"

It basically writes itself.

The Dead Weather rock Bowery Ballroom [Jack White rules the universe]

Last night at the Bowery Ballroom, I was lucky enough to be among the tightly packed crowd of about 600 for the public performance debut of Jack White's latest side project/"obj-band"/supergroup, The Dead Weather. For the uninitiated, the rock god of our generation is fronting yet another band these days, wherein he returns to his first love, the drum kit, and continues to rock your face with his trademark brand of dirty, buzzing, crackling blues rock. Joining him this time around are lead singer Allison Mossheart of The Kills, Raconteurs bassist "Little Jack" Lawrence, and Queens of the Stone Age's Dean Fertita on guitar and keys. But you knew all that. Let's get to the part you don't know about -- the actual concert -- because unlike this guy, you couldn't score tickets, which sold out in approximately 47 seconds.

As I mentioned, the crowd was packed into Bowery Ballroom as tightly as we could have been, and I leaned over to Smellson the Music Fairy and remarked on the uniqueness of the situation--600 of us had snatched up tickets instantly and crammed ourselves shoulder-to-shoulder for a band that 6 people not named Meg White have ever seen perform and won't release their first album until June. Who else but Jack White makes that happen? The excitement was clear from the moment the band sauntered onto the stage in their matching black leather, and we knew we were in for some good old fashioned greasy, grimy rockin'.

White is as capable a rocker on the drums as he is on the guitar, and although his kit was set far back and pretty low to the ground, he still found a way to remain the centerpiece of the experience (mostly by playing the shit out of those drums). Mossheart is the perfect lead singer for White's brand of music, and she ferociously grabbed the room by the balls with her stage-stomping, mic-grinding, chain smoking hotness. I was transfixed. I wanted to do dirty things to her while listening to dirty Dead Weather music (which she would of course be singing). During one stretch, she rocked out on a Bo Diddley-style box guitar. Later, on "Will There Be Enough Water," Jack finally grabbed the axe and shredded, like we all not-so-secretly had hoped he would.

To echo the Rolling Stone article, it didn't feel like we were watching a "new" band. It was clear that this crew had practiced together, as it was clear that this was Jack White music. Without knowing any of the songs, I found myself rocking out hard throughout. When they finally got to the one song I did know, "Hang You From The Heavens," I whipped out the digicam and did some of my finest concert camerawork to date, embedded below for your face-melting pleasure.



Another great show in the books, which brings us to Humpday. The Yankees play at 4, which is cool, because that means the last few hours of the workday will sail by as Wailin Suzyn and John "Puns are Fun" Sterling bring me the play-by-play from Tampa. Or is it St. Pete? Or Tampa-St. Pete? Whatever. I'll be watching the game with a bunch of Fackers, so if you want to talk shit with me, head on over here.

Dead Weather links for those who weren't steeped in awesomeness last night:

• Jack White's Dead Weather Debut With A Bang in New York [Rolling Stone]
• THE PERFECT STORM: S/T Corners The Dead Weather for One of Their First Full-Band Interviews [Self-Titled]
• The Dead Weather @ Bowery Ballroom, NYC - pics, video [BrooklynVegan] (Featuring videos daringly captured by twitterfave @kibbe--now available in real life!)
• The Dead Weather [Official Site]

Will I want some moe.? [Bonnaroo Countdown]

moe. will be at Bonnaroo this year, which in all honesty would have excited me much more at my first and only Bonnaroo back in 2005. There was a time when I was as geeked for moe. as any band out there. My first ever concert New Years was spent with moe. in Camden in 2003. They played "Let It Be" to ring in 2004 as the clock hit midnight. A few months later, my moe.-crush was at an all-time peak when the band rolled into Charlottesville for a gig at Starr Hill Brewery.

I'm pretty sure Starr Hill is closed now, which is a shame because it really was the best small-ish venue around for seeing live music. The combination of microbrewery/restaurant downstairs and 500-person concert hall upstairs was the perfect party atmosphere. moe. must have felt the same vibe, because when they took the stage, they announced that they'd be playing a special all acoustic show. They insisted that they had never done so before, and if there are any PhantasyTour wonks among you, feel free to look up the stats and prove me wrong. What's more, we had staked out a spot that basically put us on the stage nearly 2 hours before showtime. I suppose we did this because we weren't yet 21 and couldn't drink, but more than likely we were just that hyped for moe. The show inevitably ended up being the classic awesome live music perfect storms. Your high anticipation is placed in a perfect venue alongside great friends, and a unique twist is put on the show that allows you to feel ownership over the experience as something only you and a handful of others got to share. The music was great, as you can tell from the set list. Our proximity actually caused a bit of a concertgoer moral dilemma, as I had to try very hard at certain points not to look at what was coming next. Of course, there was no dilemma when it came to whether or not we were going to share with our new friend, who I'll simply refer to as Animal.

The only bad thing about the awesome live music perfect storm is that you can go your whole life waiting for another one that never comes, and this is what happened to me with moe. Every time I would go to see them after that night, I'd hold the show against the standard set by the Starr Hill perfect storm. Every time, it fell slightly short. I've had great live moe. experiences since Starr Hill '04, from the time Smellson, Wurm and I had to carry our friend out of Roseland Ballroom after she passed out without even drinking, to just last year when I fist-pumped out to their rendition of "America, Fuck Yeah" July 4th at the Stone Pony while fireworks exploded over Asbury Park, New Jersey. However, none of those shows compared with that night in Charlottesville.

Tough to top being this close to the action.

I feel like I've hung around with moe. for so long that I owe it to them at this point to stop by their Bonnaroo set, but I'm old and wise enough to know not to expect anything from them that I haven't already seen at this point. Maybe they'll reach into their bag of tricks one more time, prove me wrong, and transport me back to 2004. 88 days until we find out.

Rebubula - moe.

90 days to Bonnaroo: Al Green [Bonnaroo Countdown]

I have to admit, as much as I love music of all types from all eras, I know next to nothing about certain artists who are recognized as "classic." Al Green is one of these. I'm already thankful that I started this countdown, because I can see that I'm going to learn a lot.

Before today, I could have sung you the chorus to "Let's Stay Together," and would have known "Take Me To The River" only because a cover version later became a greatest hit for another member of this year's Bonnaroo lineup (and one of my personal favorites). Beyond that, if you had said, "Al Green" to me before today, I would have had little response to offer besides the customary Jamie Foxx, "Al Green...Al Green, a-heeeeyyyyy!"

But look at all this great knowledge I have now... Al was the sixth of ten children. He had 4 Gold singles on his second LP, 1970's Al Green Gets Next To You. He became Pastor Al when he was ordained by the Full Gospel Tabernacle in Memphis in 1976. He was assaulted by his crazy girlfriend in 1974. When he refused to marry her (even though she was already married) she doused him with a pot of boiling hot grits while he was (holy shit!) in the shower.

Knowledge, knowledge, everywhere, and I consider myself better for it. Of course, the only real way to get to know an artist is through their art, so I'm going to go ahead and put on the big headphones as and venture down Al Green boulevard. Whether you're a lifelong fan or a lame-ass n00b like this guy, sit back and enjoy this fantastically '70s rendition of "Sha La La" along with me. Ladies and gentlemen, the soulful stylings of Mr. Al Green!



UPDATE: Groovin to "Love and Happiness," picking up on the J5 sample. I knew I'd like Al Green. Don't worry, Smellson, I promise I won't miss his set.

Get your Green on :

Al Green's albums
Al Green Wiki
Al Green Official Site
Al Green Bonnaroo artist bio

He's baaaaaack

The King rides again! And this time, he's a total pimp! Oh King, you sly boots....

I'd call this the return of the Mac, but I have way too much love for the Whopper to insult The King like that.

This photo, courtesy of @ELROSS, apparently depicts the festivities at today's grand opening of Burger King's first ever Whopper Bar at CityWalk, Universal Orlando Resort's shopping and entertainment complex. From USA Today:

There won't be any alcohol but there will be meat and lots of it.

Customers can customize their Whopper, Double Whopper or Steakhouse XT burger with up to 22 different toppings, including steak sauce, smoked bacon and guacamole. Burger King workers will add the toppings in front of customers for a sushi bar-like atmosphere.

No alcohol and lots of meat? Smells like a party at That Dick's place! (I kid, Smellson, I kid). Personally I fail to see how ordering your burger at a sushi bar-like setup is any different from ordering it at the usual cattle call-like setup, but if you know me, you know that if I were at all nearby I'd be right up in there now if for no other reason than this. (Whatever, @ELROSS - your free burger won't alienate people and make you famous, so suck on that!)

Which reminds me, it's lunchtime and I've still got this puppy in my wallet. Methinks it's time to commemorate the Return of The King.

(UPDATE: @ELROSS is apparently an even bigger Burger King fanboy than yours truly, and he was all over this monumental event, live and in person, as it unfolded. Check out his Twitpic photostream for the full experience. You have to admit you want a bite)

Burger King to Open First Whopper Bar [USA Today]

Previously:
The post that started it all: Because "People you may know" sounds nicer than "People you don't like"
The first update: Apologies for my absence, please accept my humble Whopper Sacrifice
The article: Friends, Until I Delete You [New York Times]
The fame: Schiff Happens in the New York Times [We're totally famous now!]
The beef: NYTimes facebook beef [Nontroversy]
The persistence: The King can't be stopped
The poor bastard: The King Works In Mysterious Ways [Another Whopper Freakout]

Where's Smelly?

As promised, here's our boy, friend of Schiff Happens, former fat kid, "that dick," and star of late night telly-vision!!!!


Looks like someone from the old neighborhood finally done up and come up. If you ask me, he's pretty easy to find, but test your eyesight and see if you can figure out... Where's Smelly Pelly? Special prize to whoever can find Max Weinberg and the Max Weinberg Seven. Like I said earlier today, I had a tough enough time finding Conan, who's obviously right smack in the middle of the thing. Jimmy Vivino is a pretty easy find. Other than that, I'm fairly useless, but I've also been slowly going blind since age 10, so you'll probably have better luck. The pic below is a bit more zoomed in, but at the expense of a few people on the outer edges. Sorry, your staff is huge (that's what she said?).


Congrats to Conan O'Brien, Smelly, and the whole shebangabang down there at 30 Rock.