Since his passing on July 5, Frank Ahearn, the face of The Comedy Connection for 18 years has been remembered in many ways, now comics from New England to Los Angeles share their loving memories of the warm-hearted man.   

In the wake of the 80s stand-up boom Boston had few venues dedicated to great live comedy. But, with its move to Fanueil Hall in the early 90s and a well-timed hiring of Frank Ahearn as general manager, The Comedy Connection lead the way to a comedy revival. Comics largely credit Frank, a native of Dorchester with making The Connection the place to pick up the mic. He brought in the best talent around, veteran Boston comic Tony V recalls, “no one would say no to him because he’d do anything for you.” Frank had simple rules for who got on, “He just liked people who were funny” Chris McGuire, LA based writer and Boston bred comic explains, “He didn’t throw around compliments either-if he said it, he meant it.”

For Frank, everything was about the show. He created a great experience for everyone from the audience to the comics and servers whether that meant running the box-office or breaking up a fight mid-show. Tess Rafferty,  writer for The Soup and former Connection regular touched on Tony’s commitment, “It’s the details that can make a show bad. he was in control of the details, he cared that people had a good show.”

True “alt comedy” may have been in its infancy but Frank was willing to nurture new acts and shaky comedy colts. He took Tess and many others under his wing, “He was into giving people chances, he said ‘this is where you go to get good.”

As Frank recovered from a stroke in the spring, benefits were held for Frank, who was used to being on the other end of such events. Benefit performer Tony V saw Frank’s dedication to helping others through fundraisers at The Connection, “He could get anybody to come down and perform for free because everybody loved him.”  Frank’s yearly South Shore golf tournaments and comedy shows also drew top local acts and raised thousands for charity organizations.

Frank felt equally at home in the glamour of Las Vegas. His inner-circle was always guaranteed a great time when meeting up with Frank on one of his many Vegas trips. Tess and Chris were struggling comics new to L.A when Frank and Kevin Knox invited them out to Vegas for the first time. That first night of fine restaurant dining, wine, and hours of conversation all courtesy of Frank had a lasting impact on Chris and Tess. She explains, “To Frank, life was not all about the struggle and the bad things. The love of sharing food and wine, its something that we do in our lives every weekend. I owe it all to Frank.”

His influence on the lives of those close to him is overwhelming. Chris McGuire reflects, “A show business career is a weird thing, sometimes you get lucky with who you meet, one of the most influential people for me was Frank.” It is impossible to think of Frank’s loss without being reminded of Kevin Knox his longtime friend who passed away in November after battling melanoma. The absence of the two has been a devastating blow to Boston comedy, but they continue to inspire laughter and generosity in others.



I have a girl on my Facebook feed that only poses with the left side of her face showing.  If I didn't know her IRL, I'd wind up thinking she had Phantom of the Opera face (where on side of her face was burnt beyond recognition in a car race 2 Fast 2 Furious style.)  I'm beginning to think that next time I see her I should examine the other side to see what's hiding out on there.  

Then there's this dude who is probably reading this, and has a Wu-Wear Hawaiian shirt on all the time, and puts up his "W" for Wu-Tang.  He's a nice guy and all, but it's getting a little old.  

I thought this was all just for party hoes and dudes I know who wear Hawaiian shirts but my friend Allison sent me a video of NONE OTHER THAN THE PRESIDENT, striking the same pose.  His is more prudent though.

I just ruined photos for you for good.  I subliminally planted in your mind a seed, that you will run wild with.  The next photos taken of you will be out of the ordinary.  You might look like you're thinking about something, or longing for a lover you've never met.  Either way, don't make "duckface".

Barack Obama's amazingly consistent smile from Eric Spiegelman on Vimeo.

Disclaimer: I`m assuming this site has readers and not just confused viewers who wind up here while searching for keigel devices.

So what has Laura been up to over the weekend? Gambling! I took the bus down to Connecticut with a bunch of over 50's sporting gams you could match to a AAA map. 

My first stop was Foxwoods-a  mecca of teal, purple, and white stretching high into the sky. Foxwoods is a casino and resort run by the Pequot Tribe of Connecticut. Through ancient spiritual wisdom, the Pequot discovered that you can make a ton of money by offering Vegas-ish facilities in close proximity to Puritanical states that only flirt with the idea of legalized gambling before the loudest person in the room starts screaming "But think of the children!"

Having their own severely underserved nation also means the Pequot can legalize indoor smoking. Which is prettty spectacular considering people in the Northeast are only allowed to smoke indoors if said structure is a shed in their backyard housing mostly old Barbie Power Wheels Jammin Jeeps and Bud Light Lime cans. So by offering the dual elicit pleasures of gambling and smoking indoors, the privileged few Pequot who run these casinos make a KILLING. 

Speaking of killing....here's my little summary of The Pequot War. American history is full of stories involving Anglos mowing down Natives like crab grass they would later pay Hispanics a substandard wage to take care of. But, The Pequot War of the 17th century was one of a few settler-Native conflicts that featured native tribes, in this case the Mohegan and Narragansett tribes, siding with the English, and they joined in slaying 1,500 Pequots. As various tribes had done in wars before the arrival of the Puritans, the Mohegans took Pequots hostage and did a lot of nasty violent shit that made the Puritans totally jealous, so much so that the Puritans called a little time out, took the hostages back and abused them in classic Christian spirit: slavery, starvation, dehydration, rape, mutilation, etc, etc.

A few of the lucky (and in this case the title of "lucky" goes to the person who wasn't burned alive) Pequots were sold to plantations in the Caribbean, because if being a slave in New England sucks, being a slave on foreign lands with disease spreading mosquitoes sucks that extra 1000%.  You can find more of this in the wonderful Sarah Vowell book The Wordy Shipmates.

 Eventually they were all screwed over by the state of Connecticut, in what we'd call a unifying moment. Today, the Mohegans also run a Connecticut based casino. Sadly, the Pequots are continuing to get their asses beat by the Mohegans but now in a less bloody fashion. Mohegan Sun is a way better casino than Foxwoods! Better design, and arcade for kids, more stores, and they have a KRISPY KREME! Have you ever had a Krispy Kreme donut? Its like an angel came on your taste buds. 

But, what makes any casino is the people, and both Foxwoods and Mohegan Sun attract what polite people would call "real characters", but I`m not polite so I think of them as a hodepodge of bored folks, skewing heavily towards the elderly, Asians of all ages who like to smoke indoors and play Baccarat, and poker playing single men with unfortunate taste in sunglasses. 

The preponderance of old white folks will really make you chuckle, as their age group dominates The Tea Party, and calls for less government waste (aka social programs not designed to benefit them directly). But, they find nothing wrong with blowing their money on computerized (rigged) slot machines for hours. 

The physical location of Mohegan Sun and Foxwoods also creates a peaceful site of interaction for Yankees and Red Sox fans, two groups who would typically describe in depth their desire to stick baseball bats up each others rectums, and not in a sexy Robert Maplethorpe sort of way.

What can we draw from my weekend in gambling land? Americans deep down want UNITY, particularly if it means getting to absolve the guilt of a history of genocide, forgetting about the dangers of smoking, and how every game is designed to send them to an even crappier poor house than the one they're probably already living in. 

Vince Vaughn and Osama Bin Laden are roommates (playing themselves) living the good life in Baltimore.  At first I was thinking New York, but that's kind of played out.  Then I thought maybe Austin, but that's a little ridiculious.  So Baltimore.  It's very hip thanks to "The Wire" and hit mind blowing movie "He's Just Not That Into You".

Anyway.  Vince and Osama have this totally sweet three bedroom place and they are best pals, and they decide to find a third roommate to complete this trifecta of awesomeness.  They get a new roommate, and Vince starts to pick all kinds of stupid fights with him immeadiately.

This is where it gets funny.  To me.  And everyone else watching it.  Vince gets so mad over the silliest things, like the new roommate using his favorite coffee mug.  But then Osama is pulling all these tricks. He like, leaves a bomb out and Vince detonates it on accident, and he doesnt even get pissed, he just finds it endearing and funny.

We all know sitcoms follow a formula, and mine has two things that will occur every single week.
1. Vince Vaughn kicks the third roommate out at the end of the episode.
2. Osama busts out some crazy, over the top prank.

I dont have a title yet.  But I do have a theme song, its "What I've Been Looking For," from High School Musical.  And I know this might sound lame to you, but you need to hear the song before you trash talk it.  It's real catchy.

Also.  They double date.

I don't know.  I understand if this isn't what the public wants at this point in time, and I've anticipated that with a back up sitcom I've been kicking around.  I won't get too into it right now, but I will say it's about a three family apartment building in Worcester with a cat land lord.

-  The new Deerhunter 7" is absolutely dope.  The song "Revival" is unreal.  I love these guys so much.  For some reason when I heard about them I didn't want to give them a chance but I accidentally had them playing on my computer while I laid in my bed and roasted a super serious j.  I went into a half trance half dream and was never the same after Microcastle finished.  So I sweat these guys.  This band can do no wrong in my eyes.  Other suggestion:  Get the Jay Reatard/Deerhunter split and listen to the songs they do.  They're awesome, and Jay's "Oh It's Such A Shame" mimics their long drawn out build ups.  Lose yourself.

-  Some dickhead said that the new Arcade Fire (offficially leaked) is comparable to O.K. Computer.  I'd like to find him and beat him with a tire iron.  This is not only hyperbole but it's baseless.  O.K. Computer is a fucking untouchable masterpiece from start to finish.  It's an opus combining random electronic noises and harkens back to Radiohead's old music (when they used guitars and played instruments).  While the new Arcade Fire may be good, it doesn't hold a fucking candle.  Whoever honestly believes what that dude said is an amateur, and that guy is dead to me.

-  Here's a great one.  The Wall Street Journal says (about a Khmer Rouge leader):

"A U.N.- backed tribunal found a key leader of Cambodia's notorious Khmer Rouge regime guilty of crimes against humanity and sentenced him to 35 years in prison, marking its first successful prosecution after more than a decade of work to bring the group's top officials to justice."

They forgot to mention that Henry Kissinger was once nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize, and that he is responsible for the deaths of maybe 10 times as many people.  Guess what?  He'll never be prosecuted or even brought to justice for just one of those murders. 

You wonder why after the Exxon spill and now the current BP spill head haven't been rolling?  Here's your answer.. (most of you already know this) the Federal Government is basically owned by these giant companies.  Let's put it this way, according to this abysmal article in the Washington Post 75% of the people who work as lobbyists for the oil and gas industry USED to work for the Federal Government.  

Here's some more interesting news for you.  Terrell Owens (who used to carry a Sharpie in his sock in case he needed to whip it out and sign a football or a breast or what have you) can't find a job.  He's looking for $5 million and no one wants to hire him for it.  Let's break this down.  This guy is unbelievable at football and is willing to run through the grid iron and take bone crushing hits for $5 million.  Baseball players are wankers who stand around and chew shit, scratch their sack all day, and once every half hour they go for a run to catch (or not catch) a ball that barely makes it over the wall on occasion.  The amount of energy expended in a baseball game is no where near the energy expended in football, not to mention that rarely do baseball players (other than pitchers) put their body through hell (outside of steroids).  I don't respect baseball players.  They stand around and do nothing.  They make the most god damn money I could think of too.  If I owned a team, I'd make those bastards shovel my driveway, cut the grass, lift gigantic bricks like Egyptian slaves did to build the pyramids, and basically do anything and everything because as the old saying goes "if there's time for leaning, there's time for cleaning". Check out the article on Terrell Owens here.

Homeless is actually good friends with them.  We spent some time hanging out through out the weekend and they turned out to be amazing dudes.  They're getting enormous, which is fitting because their music is pure rock n' roll and a really good time.  

Buddyhead has a track up from the Wet Cement 7" here.  Give it a whirl and then get the previous albums!

Finery like liquid cocaine simply DEMANDS you spring for gift wrapping. Well, that led to quite an excursion in my stationary closet. I sincerely recommend you all get a stationary closet, only way I can keep my neon post-its and trapper keepers straight. Back to the task at hand! So, silly me, I only had Father's Day wrapping paper and here I am like a dope trying to gift wrap your liquid cocaine for a BIRTHDAY present.

Then, I remembered that Labor Day weekend I spent sleeping on your loveseat and making pitchers of Crazy Punch** at noon. So, what could be a more apropos method of transportation for this liquid cocaine than a lovely bottle of rum. Oh, you would have been sweating and twitching in a heap with glee after getting this birthday gift. Then I saw this from Sky News in Britain.  

'Smuggler' Accused Over Drug-Laced Rum Death

http://news.sky.com/skynews/Home/UK-News/Tragic-Cocaine-Death-Manslaughter-Trial-Begins-Over-Death-Of-Cab-Driver-Lascell-Malcolm/Article/201007315667390?lpos=UK_News_Second_UK_News_Article_Teaser_Region_2&lid=ARTICLE_15667390_Tragic_Cocaine_Death:_Manslaughter_Trial_Begins_Over_Death_Of_Cab_Driver_Lascell_Malcolm

"Lascell Malcolm, 63, was killed after inadvertently drinking a liquid form of the drug, disguised in a bottle of rum which had been given to him as a gift.

The prosecution claim the defendant, Martin Newman, 50, was a drug smuggler whose 'gross negligence' in importing the cocaine makes him responsible for the death."

Don't that beat all! Boy, would my face have been red if I were being charged with your death right now. So I sold the liquid cocaine instead and donated the money to UNICEF in your name, isn't that stellar? Happy Birthday!***

 **Crazy Punch

2 Parts Pirate Themed Rum

1 Parts Dollar Store Brand Crystal Lite Like Fruit Punch Mix

.08 parts Tap Water from Rusting Sink

Drink from large plastic cups handed out by promotions team of Step Up 2 The Streets

 ***Always use the ultimate in caution when smuggling your liquid cocaine, and try not to be a fucking negligent murderer, laying waste to the lives of those around you, thanks.