LEAH PUT THE PEN DOWN!!!

Who are we? How does our personality develop? Why were we forced to make weekly trips to purchase lumber with one or both of their parents when we were 12? Questions to contemplate when looking inward and going to girlfriend enforced meditation classes.

Growing up I was constantly writing my mom letters pertaining to conversations and arguments that had happened moments earlier. I would have them "delivered" by my little sister and I'm almost positive I forced her to sign for them. I'm sure my mom thought she had raised a stenographer. A tattletale stenographer with a major Napoleon complex. Here is one letter from the archives. I hope you enjoy it. It has made my mom and sister howl with laughter on many occasions. On the same occasions I find myself horrified at the person I used to be while simultaneously wishing I could write them all a letter detailing these thoughts. Often we take this letter (or one similar. They all sound alike) out and pass it around the Thanksgiving dinner table...drawing straws for who gets to perform it. Again...a horrified Leah searches for a writing utensil.

Let me set the stage a bit...at the time of this dramatic memorandum, I had been fighting with one or more of my family members so much so that my mom took drastic measures and grounded me from attending the N.K.O.T.B. concert. Yes, that's quite a time stamp. Not the "New Kids On The Block" concert...nope, this was at the end of their run when "Step by Step" was "hangin' tough" on the pop charts by the skin of their rat tails.

12 year old Leah...a friggin annoying mess

Ok first of all...you should know that it pains me to see this many spelling errors in one place. And I won't even start with the syntax shitstorm. I mean, just disgusting. Secondly, the desperation that was exhibited over the possibility of not attending one of the worst concerts in the history of awful music is just plain embarrassing.

Note: I did in fact get to go to the N.K.O.T.B. concert because while my mom is a hard ass...she paid for those tickets so SOMEONE was going and it sure as hell wasn't going to be her!

And...If I had a dime for every time I've been told I was "being fresh" then I probably could have paid for that abortion myself. What can I say, Joey McIntyre is hard to resist.

This guy was easy to resist

Why am I showing the world this letter to my mom? Well first off, to encourage you to have an enormous amount of sympathy for the woman. I can't imagine what it must have been like to have a pre-teen serve me documents on a daily basis but also to dispel any and all rumors that I have any natural talent as a writer. As you can see...it was an uphill battle to reach this middle ground.

This letter also drives home this point: You can ignore me, you can ignore me in a lumber store even but if you ignore me and then threaten me with the loss of concert tickets...then I will unleash a wrath of annoying unlike any boyband dance routine you've ever layed eyes on.

And yes I'm choosing to ignore the lumber and lesbian connection and if you bring it up in a blog comment I'll give Danny Wood your phone number. He's the dyke in the backwards hat pictured above.

I'll be performing at Barracuda at 8:00 THIS SUNDAY.

Barracuda is a bar for homos and is located at 275 W 22nd St (between Seventh and Eighth)

Wedded Bliss / REALLY Salt -n- Pepa....?

Well, my "weekly" blog is almost turning into an "every other weekly" blog but I'm doing my best. I'm busy! I have lots to do...like maintain multiple MySpace pages and teach my new kitten Spanish. He's really coming along.

"Hola. I'm Pete Dubie-Smith."

Things have in been busy because last Friday little sissie done went and married her Aryan hunk Matt. Lots happened. The wedding weekend was crazy and fun and nobody jumped off a balcony and died or anything. I'm calling it a success!

Weddings...a chance for your entire family to touch your hair for hours on end.

As the maid of honor (or head beyotch in charge of ladies wearing maroon dresses) I got to give a speech. It was nice and easy and I got lots of compliments which is exactly how I wish everything went. As with every thought that passes through my brain, I ran my preliminary speech bullet points by Marin. About 90% of my ideas were gloriously shot down. I believe the words Marin used were..."There will be about 3 people who think that is funny but everyone else will instantly hate you, namely your family members you're making reference to. Do not do this."

You embarrass me and I'll cut you.

I did however get a chance to perform the unedited version of my speech for the nail ladies and my sister on the day before the wedding. The nail bitches were mildly amused. (Reference point - in New Hampshire nail ladies are white high school drop outs who speak English and understand everything you say provided you don't use too many big words. Contrary to NYC where people who work on nails are largely of Asian decent and make fun of you in both broken English and full blown Cantonese by telling you your sister is better looking than you.) But back to the speech that died on the cutting room floor. Allison found it a hilarious blend of truth, irony and well placed prat falls. But in a ....the day before the wedding in a nail salon it's funny. You pull that shit tomorrow and I'm going to reassign your maid of honor duties to the wedding coordinator...kind of way.

Mr. Allison Dubie

The wedding reception kicked off with a "surprise" (I say surprise because I am a VIP and knew about the dance but the rest of the schmoes at the wedding did not) choreographed dance performed by the new bride and groom. One thing I was left in the dark about was whether or not there was a lift involved...and it's not like I didn't ask over and over again "Is there a lift? Oh just tell me! There's no lift...wait there IS a lift isn't there?" It was a mystery up until Allison took flight. I gave it a 10. And I have lots of experience with lifts.

Lift #1

Lift #2

I realize that I'm doing a lift with the same person in both pictures but I find it's best to choose a partner and just stick with them. Take note that lift #1 was done on HER wedding day. What can I say, Sarah Benoit is a risk taker. I mean...I gave a speech at her wedding too. Clearly she and my sister are living on the edge.

Here is a picture display of the massive Ho-down that followed...

My mom and one of the hired dancers

This dance move pose seems to be captured at all weddings I attend

Attractive young people

In other big news...80s rap pioneers Salt -n- Pepa came out with a new reality show called...are you ready? The Salt -n- Pepa Show. I would have called it "Coping with one particularly frustrating condiment who also causes high blood pressure but I'm not naming names...Cheryl."

If you know me at all then you know that I love Salt -n- Pepa. I loved them back then (at the time of the above photograph) and I'm trying to love them now....but it's been difficult. At least through episode 1 it's been difficult. In the years that have passed since S-n-P's glory days many things have happened. We graduated from junior high school, got our periods, went to college, got married, wrote jokes about getting kicked off a school bus in 5th grade for singing "Push It" etc etc. Life was lived. Well for S-n-P, life since their rap relationship hit the skidz has been lived quite differently. Many things have changed but luckily some things have stayed exactly the same. Thank god for small favors. Pepa remains the same terrific whore we knew and loved but for Salt it's a completely different story.

Sexy-rap's Antichrist

Salt went and found Jesus. She had her reasons why but they're too boring to get in to right now. That's why in the past 10 years, an E True Hollywood Story - Salt was never made. That's usually a good barometer of what is mildly interesting. Producers at "E" didn't think her story was as captivating as the E True Hollywood Story - Lindsay Lohan's Dad.

Being influenced by the lord has NEVER made a singer better. EVER. Seriously, find one. I dare you. At the furthest end of this nonsense is Christian rock. YUCK. I believe in God and one thing that I believe with my whole soul is that Jesus Christ does not want you to make shitty music on his behalf. That's not why he was stapled to the cross. This I know. Thanks be to God, Lord Jesus Christ. (CCD Shout out)

So...because of her born again beliefs...Salt refuses to sing PUSH IT. The best rap song in existence. (In additon to a number of other hits. It seems the only one safe is "Whadda Man" and I think she's changed the words so that the "man" is Jesus. Awesome. I love doing hip hop dances with Christ overtones)

The best moment of episode 1 was the conversation the ladies had about why Salt would no longer be performing PUSH IT. It mirrored a conversation I had with my dad some 20 years ago after I got kicked off the school bus for singing PUSH IT myself. It was pretty incredible. This is how it went down:

SALT - "You know I can't sing PUSH IT now."

PEPA - "Why?"

SALT - "Because of what it's about."

PEPA - "It's about dancing"

SALT - "No, it's about sex, stupid."

PEPA - "People only thought it was about sex because they thought we were saying Pussy."

If the woman who wrote PUSH IT thought it was about dancing then there's no way I should have had to walk to school for a week.

But PEPA god bless her...she thought there were actually people singing along - "I want you to Pussy it. Pussy it good. Pussy it REAL good!!" That's ridiculous. I'm concerned for her in the world. Someone might need to come take Pepa's kids from her. Don't worry Pepa, getting your kids taken away is the latest Hollywood accessory. It's the new small dog you carry in a designer purse. It's the new uggs snow boot. You'll totally make it onto Entertainment Tonight now.

Well it's been quite a week. A lot of memories. A lot to be thankful for. I'm thankful that I didn't get my shoes stuck in the mud while walking down the isle at the wedding (wait, scratch that), thankful my speech went over big and that Allison and Matt wanted to include me in their special day, thankful that since it will never be "sung" again...that PUSH IT lives on in my memories, and my workout mix. Yes, thank you Jesus. Thank you. Whadda Man!

The man who didn't believe I was singing a song about dancing...and the lovely bride


This coming Tuesday (October 23rd) I'll be performing on The Kevin Murphy Show

8:00 PM @Rififi (332 E. 11th St. and 1st Ave.) $5

Low-Cost Freedom

Today's blog is inspired by CVS brand "all day pain relief." I have been in pain for two solid days or much longer if you count childhood. In a freak accident in the AM...I was just exiting REM sleep when Pete decided to toss shit around in the other room. As I tensed up my neck muscles while waking up, my first conscious thought was..."my neck sure hurts in this dream" followed by manic screaming. So for two days I have turned very slowly hoping no one drops a briefcase in a courtroom like they did on that episode of the Brady Bunch. Which...is complete bullshit because I could turn quickly if startled by a falling attache case or the like but it would hurt like hell. If I was that defendant on that episode of the Brady Bunch it would have just pissed me off. "What the fuck Jan Brady, you crazy lezbo?!" And I don't think Jan had anything to do with it. No wonder lesbians are always fighting for something.

Leah, I hope you have to take wedding photos while sporting a halo cast.

- Jan Brady.

My dreams since "the injury" have been particularly intense. Marin keeps telling me to "relax" and "chill." To which I reply "How am I supposed to relax and/or chill if you keep dating other chicks in my dreams?! It's stressful!"

I have always had very vivid dreams. I don't always remember my dreams but if I do I'm convinced they've actually happened or at the very least...could have happened, which seems to upset me just as much. I remember once in college I dreamed that Matt pushed me off a moving bus and I had trouble looking at him for a week. And I certainly wasn't getting in a car with the guy I'll tell you that much. If I tell Marin something that happens in my dreams she automatically returns with "How long are you planning on blaming me for that? For doing that fictional thing to you in your dream?" The average time is about 3 days.

Today we're heading to Boston for my sister's wedding. I mention this because she loves being the center of my blogisphere. And because I wanted to give burglars a heads up. I'm looking forward to it...provided I can turn my head, it should be a good time. The blend of the two sides of divorced families is not normally a party but I am hopeful. Even the Bloods and the Crips come together to decide on the going rate of crack. Right? Then surely we can all pretend to like each other for one day or at the very least allow our subconscious to take over and paralyze the top halves of our bodies so we don't have to deal with it. Right? Good.

Crack Cocaine in a dude's mouth (courtesy of google images)---->

Speaking of drugs...my show Leah Dubie's Smokin' Comedy Joint is really coming along. My friend Shannon helped me with the postcards/posters and they are ready for distribution. Marin and I took many pictures of me smoking cigarettes in front of a bodega while dodging people asking us to "stop smoking on the fruit." And they didn't mean Jason Scarlatti. He'll gladly let you smoke on him.

Here is a artsy, blurry picture that didn't make the cut but still manages to make me look cool in a junior high school way.

The more I look at the marketing campaign for Dubie's smokin show...the more I worry...do pot-heads keep appointments? Let's hope.

Leah Dubie's Smokin Comedy Joint

The Sage Theater - 711 7th Ave. (between 47th and 48th)

Kicks off Tuesday November 6th - 8 PM

Reservations - smokincomedy@gmail.com

Leah, Lists and some mild Lusting

Two weeks ago...After my first blog post I was leaving the Gotham Comedy Club and a comic friend of mine (Brian McGuinness) screamed at me "Hey! Leah! Keep writing those blogs!" He didn't scream..."Goodbye Leah!" or "Get home safe girl!" or "Don't step in that!" Instead, a loud plea for more things to read while wolfing down a sandwich at work. So I will...for all the Brian McGuinness' out there. This is my Starlight Foundation.

It's not that I don't enjoy the blog writing. It's just that, as with everything I do...it just becomes something to note on a list. Here is one of my lists:

Everything on the list is work-like. If my lists looked like THIS it would be a different story.

Does anyone know where Chris Meloni lives? Because if someone knew where he lived (I'm assuming it's somewhere in NYC or the surrounding areas) I think I could develop a casual, neighborly relationship with him at "our" corner store or bodega. We could have breezy conversations by our grocer's freezer. Omigod, Chris Meloni...I also love Friendship cottage cheese. Life sure is funny isn't it! Would you like to make out for a little bit? I've got some time.

Sometimes I have extended conversations with my girlfriend's mom about how hot Chris Meloni is. Life sure IS funny.

Ok, anyhow. This past week was eventful. The important stuff being....The new season of Dancing With The Stars began, My birthday was Thursday and I'm going to be producing my own comedy show starting November 6th. Let's tackle these events one at a time...

DWTS Season 5 kicked off. It's true, this picture is not from the current season but dear god...just look at this guy. And this is one of the GOOD looking dancers.

If you know me at all then you know I have a very close relationship with this show for several reasons.

1. The Dancing

2. The "Stars"

3. The jokes derived from numbers 1 and 2.

But... I will tell you that I am a giant hypocrite because I'd like nothing more than to be on this show someday. Today while watching the TiVoed episode from Monday I was actually angry because somebody danced to a song I had PLANNED on dancing to. You know ,when I join the cast of DWTS 36. Yes I am confident that there will be 31 more seasons of Dancing With The Stars. Once I heard the first two notes of Stevie Wonder's "Signed, Sealed and Delivered" I actually yelled to no one "Oh come on!!! Fine! Cross that one off the list." Another negative check mark for "lists" everywhere.

My birthday was Thursday and there was an attempt to surprise me with a party of some kind however many factors made this impossible. The #1 reason it is impossible to surprise me with a surprise birthday party is because I usually wind up inviting people to my own surprise so even if you were originally showing up for the surprise part...in my head, you are there because you got my last minute text message and sprinted to the Duplex because I asked nicely. Clearly, I have some control issues here. I'm working on it. I have big plans to buy "The Secret" on iTunes and iPod listen my way into a life of self control and happiness. Stand by for that.

It was a good time. Many loved ones, comics and various other homies. Including these people.

That is a brand new shirt that I'm wearing. It arrived in the mail from Aunty Carol.

30 minutes later I dripped pizza grease down the front of it. Like I said...self control....The Secret...help is on the way.

Lastly, I've been looking for a venue to produce my own show and have decided on The Sage Theater in Times Square. "Leah Dubie's Smokin' Comedy Joint" kicks off Tuesday November 6th at 8:00 PM. Many, many details to follow. Just starting to book it and get the press machine rolling.

I'm performing Thursday at "On The Rocks" w/Danny Leary. It's a terrific show. Swing by, have a cocktail. On the rocks or just in a glass.