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What Did You Do?

| 0 Comments | 5564 Views | Back to top | Posted on 09/01/2005 at 03:04 AM

Why I Became A Comedian

| 1 Comment | 6380 Views | Back to top | Posted on 07/08/2005 at 01:04 AM

Someone Hates Me

| 4 Comments | 6179 Views | Back to top | Posted on 07/01/2005 at 03:36 PM

I recently Googled Phil Mazo to see if a) my website came up in the search results, b) it was at the top of the list, and c) based on the results, my penis feels big. Conveniently, it a) did, b) was, and c) does  but not based on the results. This is because something odd came up at the very end of the list.

Namely, a website entitled boundaries fuckblackwomen redheaded photos fatale keynote, with the URL Now, Im not gay, and I dont recall ever attending a gay boy school. And I dont fuck redheaded black women, as a rule. So, curious, I decided to explore further.

What I found was a section of the website with a ridiculously long list of about five thousand words. Now, Im not that web savvy, but I do know porn, and I guessed that its purpose was to display every imaginably appropriate keyword that one might type into a search engine to lead them to For example, about a third of the way down this enormous list are a few lines that read: ...olderwomenfisting, germ quicktim, freddie exposure afra, onscreen jaar japanise, doggystyl phil mazo, animationgirl out photoescum, spyder caribic ard, castoon freeasia leuten, freepicturs ohpussy xavier, transexsuales swinge japanschoolgirlfrom, pornfisting indonesia wahine, analsuche... Notice anything interesting (aside from the fact that the spellings might suggest that the author either suffers from Parkinsons or is Dutch, or both)?

Yes, phil mazo found its way in there, clumped together with doggystyl. How could that have happened? Obviously, my first impulse is that the web designer must know who I am, and hate me, and therefore is playing a joke on me. But, being a peaceful creature of love, I decided to think this out reasonably.

For example, could there somehow be a sought after video out there of me doing doggystyl? If so, its got to be like five years old.

Or maybe phil mazo is some kind of sexual term, perhaps in another language. In the same way that the ubiquitous Dirty Sanchez holds its own meaning, what if giving a phil mazo is, say, when you attempt to stuff your testicles into her vagina while you spank yourself and she punches you in the neck until you vomit, and then you poop in the vomit and fling the rancid stew at her roommate, who then calls the cops, whom, upon arrival, you bludgeon to death with a metal bat? If so, I dont know whether to be proud that my performances have been so gratifying as to etch my name in stone, or weirded out that my parents named me after an already existing sexual act that, as fate would have it, I have come to master and enjoy.

Or what if, upon further investigation, I see other peoples names scattered throughout the list  people that I know  and Ive unknowingly opened a portal to another dimension, one in which olderwomenfisting, freddie exposure, jaar japanise, and castoon freeasia leuten are all commonplace; a veritable utopia, if you will?

Or maybe this guy is playing a joke on Phil Mazo, but its another Phil Mazo out there in this crazy world, one with connections to pornographic website designers. If so, I suppose I cant really be hurt by this. But is this likely, considering that Ive never met a Mazo outside of my immediate family?

Indeed, all these scenarios seem implausible. Which brings me back to the original conclusion that someone out there knows who I am, and hates me. Or someone out there knows that I download tons of porn  apparently noticeably more than anyone else  and he or she is sending me a message. But thats just paranoia talking.

I only wish I could investigate this further, but apparently porn sites dont have contact or web design info. One thing I can say, though, is that Im incredibly impressed with the patience this person has. To sit there and come up with thousands of every imaginable fetish and porn term must have taken weeks of research. And, while I cant think of anyone I know whose day job is authoring porn sites, part of me is honored that someone took time out of his or her busy workday to think of me.

So, to you, Sir or Madam, I say a humble thank you.


doggystyl phil mazo

Drink Miller Genuine Draft!

| 1 Comment | 6444 Views | Back to top | Posted on 04/14/2005 at 09:26 PM

Yesterday afternoon I had an audition for a Miller Genuine Draft radio commercial. It basically required an "urban male beatboxer." And since, during my freshman year of college I was known as "Beatboxing Phil" (no joke)--not to mention I'm the prototypical urban male--I guess it was just perfect for me.

Anywho, I show up, and--surprise!--I'm the only white dude there (represent!). I'm given the script, and I sit down and start looking over it. I occasionally look over at the other "candidates," most of whom are listening to music on their headphones while mouthing the script, some of whom return my glances. Whereas most of them are wearing baggy clothes, with legs spread and blingin' with their new PSP's (not an exaggeration), I'm dressed like a German exchange student, legs ball-flatteningly crossed.

I'm somewhat at ease with the situation, because I figure, "Hey, who are these guys, anyway? They don't have no record contracts. Besides, they don't know who I am. For all they know, I could be the Fall 2004 Essex County B'nai B'rith Beatboxing Champion...muthafucka."

I should have taken the script home with me afterwards, but I figured I'd just throw it out anyway. But it said shit like: "MUSIC: UPBEAT HIP-HOP. URBAN MALE BEATBOXING PRO: 'Twist the cap, Check the format'" and "M to the G to the D..." and "Miller Genuine Draft got mad flava", etc. I think it even had the N-word somewhere in there.

Needless to say, I was pretty impressed with how they've taken this whole hip-hop genre that I thought I knew and totally changed the game, doing shit I didn't even know was lyrically possible.

Long story less long, after spending about an hour coming up with my own take on the thing, they invite me down to the sound studio. The dude there asks me if I've heard the music, to which I reply with a suprised, "No," and realize that that must have been what the other auditioners were listening to. So he let's me listen to the "rough track," which actually has a dude rapping the shit pretty damn well, in my opinion. So, in my head, aside from the fact that my preparation was a waste, I'm thinking, Why do these guys need someone anyway, when the guy on the rough track sounds, as one friend of mine would put it, "gangsta!" But I decide not to waste their time with the question and just do what they ask.

I spend most of the audition learning the song and trying to figure out the flow and getting it all to fit. I asked the guy if it was iambic pentameter, or if perhaps we was looking for a 3/4 meter, because the form definitely did not resemble one of your standard sonnet.

It wasn't incredibly easy, because much of the rap didn't rhyme, and oftentimes there was just a word or two in between spaces and ellipses, so you couldn't really get it down without hearing what they wanted.

Once I got the song down, he wanted me to focus on the beatboxing. Turns out he wanted me to add "scratches" and "high-hats" (to use technical terms I've never considered) and such between the pauses of the song, and in the beginning of words, such as "E-re-e-re-encore!" etc. Well, my beatboxing repetoire pretty much consists of about 3--maybe 4--canned beats that one might describe as, perhaps, "pretty impressive for a white guy," and that's about as far as I'd go. On top of that, I'm still struggling to rap the song well, nevermind add the beatboxing stuff, so I would add a scratch in one or two places, and that's pretty much it. The guy would say stuff like, "Good, maybe add more different types of sounds, like bass and high hat, and let's do more of it," but I pretty much wasn't following his directions, because I was trying to focus on the song--or I'd focus on the beatboxing and fuck up the song. I have to give it to the guy--he was very patient, and we did somewhere between 5-10 takes. It seemed like he really just wanted to get a good one out, and he must have thought I could do it.

Conclusion: I must say, beatboxing aside, I thought I sounded pretty damn good--much better than I expected. And I sounded "urban", for example by rapping "Check the format" as "Check da fo'MAT!" etc, and I liked the way my voice was comin' out and how I was rappin' it--at least the times when I wasn't tripping over the words to fit them in. So, if they decide they don't need beatboxing, who knows?

On that note: The whole time, it struck me as rather silly that we were so hung up on getting the beatboxing down, like that was what was going to sell this beer (not unlike the famous "Cowbell" SNL skit--"more beatboxing!"). Everytime he gave me directions with what he wanted me to do ("Try adding a sound-effect after 'smoothingly'", etc.), I would think not only how dumb the whole scenario was, but how silly it is that someone is actually getting paid big bucks to come up with this beatboxing conceptual breakthrough. And generally how dumb they think their audience must be. I mean, I'm no marketing expert, but if you're gonna do a rap-themed commercial that's probably marketed toward black people, the least you can do is come up with a hot rap. The music was pretty good, but the lyrics were so fucking cliche and stupid. I picture the brainstorming meeting like a bunch of white dudes in suits going: "Okay, we need to sell this beer to more black people." "I know--how about a rap!" "I like it--give this man a raise!"

I can go on and on, but I won't.

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