'Twas the season

I haven't hunted for an Easter egg in a while. Hunt is the wrong word. After all, I'm not dressed in camouflage, hollering out Easter Egg calls.

"Paas! Paas!"

That reference is just for me.

From the ages of 3-7, me and my sister would go searching for hidden eggs, but she had like a 4 year advantage over me. She'd find them all. I was left with nothing. She's eating an Easter Egg omelette, I'm still in the backyard looking behind the lawn house. She'd then come outside after breakfast and say,"There's some more in here Paul!"

Wow. You hid one behind the couch pillow. I was 5 and even then I knew that was a sympathy egg. What are you gonna do next, hide them in the fridge?

I do remember every year that eventually I would go into my room for 5 minutes and my sister would go out and hide the eggs again for me. And I'd run outside and start looking. And I still wouldn't be able to find them so I'd do the whole temperature skit.

"Am I hot? Am I getting warmer? How bout now? Colder? Hotter? Tepid?"

And she'd always do that extreme answer to where like one step in either direction would dramatically alter your temperature

"Warmer..warmer. You're burning up. Now you're cold. Ice Ice. Hypothermia! Heat stroke!"

Nerve-wracking for a 5-year old kid who still got anxiety attacks trying to color inside the lines.

I just wished I could get away with that on a first date, so I'd know if she was into me.

(wink wink) Warmer (pay the bill) You're on fire! (lean in for the kiss) Frostbite.

Bunny Hoppin

I tried to get one over on the Lord on Easter

I showed up to church.

I haven't been to church in 2 years. I don't know why I thought I'd fool him. My dad always told me that "God takes attendance" And indeed he does. Because Monday morning I woke up with a pimple on my forehead, hand-delivered in the night by my Lord and personal Savior.

"Paul, why'd you think you could just sneak in unannounced after 2 years and there wouldn't be repercussions? Now if this is the beginning of a lifestyle change for you then I'll take back the pimple I've got planned for next week on the tip of your nose. But please, either stay away or show up. I don't want to see you disappear then pop up right around Christmas. Remember, I gave you hair. I can take it back out."

I'm trying to like mushrooms. Not of the hallucinogenic form but of the culinary variety. I hated them for a long time. Not hate like "Great! A family of mushrooms moved down the street. There goes the neighborhood!" hate. But hate like "You're slimy and taste like dirt. Leave me be and go hang out with your cousin Bean Sprout, you guys have so much more in common"

It's just that everyone who's anyone seems to like mushrooms. And they're in every single dish now. And I don't want to be sitting in on a very important business dinner 3 years from now and be the only one at the table who goes "hold the mushrooms" Because then inevitably someone at the table will pipe up, "You don't like mushrooms?" And then I'll have to save face by going,

"It's not that I don't like them. It's just that my uncle, may he rest in peace, was crushed when a truck of mushrooms rear ended him in Albuquerque. I haven't been able to enjoy them since. I don't want to support an industry that claimed the lives of one of my family members. Maybe by me not eating these mushrooms, I'll be preventing just one more truck of mushrooms from being driven along an interstate and injuring another."

Actually I like that excuse. Fuck a Shroom

I do definitely have to learn to play golf though. Because after a successful business lunch, there's always gonna be an invitation to play a few holes on Saturday afteroon. Golf has become the best way to schmooze for work. I just wish I could hob-nob with higher-ups without having to learn something new

Why can't I talk about a sitcom deal over Apple Jacks and a round of skeeball?

Booze Clues

What's the polite way to turn down a shot?
When someone yells out, "Paul come take some Tuaca with us!"
How do you say no?

Not that I can't resist it. Resist I can. Peer pressure's another story.
Because the shot guy who insists on not having a shot by himself always gets angrier with each successive "No. Not now. I'm cool man. Seriously, I'm already buzzin."

"Come on Paul. We gonna get you TORE UP tonight"

And before you misinterpret what I just wrote: "tore up" meaning intoxicated, not "tore up" meaning bodily tissue damage

Ironic thing is, the guys I took shots of Tuaca with were thuggish, to say the least. And one of them ran out of the bar and re-introduced the shot to the sidewalk. Hard to be gangsta when you havta have another thug hold back your bling-bling so you can spew

Shots are a mental thing. Nobody downs them for taste and if you don't mentally will them down they ain't going. Hey if Yager was that easy to drink, it'd come in carton form much like orange juice (with 2 options: the flaps or the bottlecap). Cus even taking JackDaniels through a silly straw ain't gonna make it any more fun.

Back to resistance, I don't have an affinity for alcohol. I actually could do without it. I know my limits. Vomiting happens maybe once twice a year depending on when the Vernal Equinox occurs. But I've been through every excuse in the book when trying to turn down a shot.

I can't lie and say I don't drink. I have a Shinerbock in my hand, hard to play that line off.

I can't say I can't take it, cus I'm not a manly-looking guy as is. I have the muscular frame of a mosquito. I have to prove that I do indeed have some tiny sliver of masculinity. So that line's out the window.

I just bite my lip (or someone else's) and take it like the easily influenced man that I am.

Is that wrong?

Ask me in 5 years when my skin smells like tequila

Cheers

How I Deal

You ever walk around just getting frustrated for no reason? Even with reason, how do you cope?

I'm a growler. Not like an MGM Lion-type thing and not cowardly like the other beast from the Wizard of Oz. It's mid-volume. But kinda like an "I wanna drop an F bomb but I'm shopping at the Disney Store so I'm just gonna bite the air and whatever" RRAARGH!

It's not so life-like that little kids run up to me..."Mufasa?" But it's enough to attract some attention as to wonder why I'm half-ass roaring.

Normally I'd bite my lip (or someone else's) and just stew in my own juices. But after a few years of performing on stage I've begun to lose alot of the walls that I held up when it came to expressing happiness..or frustration..or intoxication.

I don't intend to change it anytime soon either. Cus atleast I'm growling and not resorting to other forms of animal behavior.

"You're out of the Back to the Future Trilogy on DVD?"
(primal scream - itch my armpits - then throw shit)

I'm very Incredible Hulk like that. Except if that was me, I'd forever be green and bloated. I'd never go back to normal me.

"I tore my pants and shirt? You know how much these cost me? You can't just find purple slacks anywhere! And where'd my shoes go?"

Do you really need to put "incredible" in front of hulk? We're amazed by the word "hulk" not the adjective before it. It's like saying the Crazy PCP Junkie.

And whatever happened to PCP? When I was in 9th grade Health class that was listed as one of the drugs to stay away from. Every Health textbook had that exact same story about the guy on PCP that confronted the cops. I'm not a drug dabbler but I'm yet to hear any PCP-related stories...or maybe PCP's not as common as the Houghton Mifflin Textbook Corporation would have you believe.

Maybe, just maybe it's responsible for the greatest things in life:
ESPN, McGriddles, and origami.

The secret to my success

"Paul, let's be honest, you've gotten where you are in comedy because you're Indian"

That was a quote a comedian here in Dallas "e-mailed" to me. Not said to my face, but "e-mailed". A brave soul, ain't he?

Since when did being Indian pose an advantage? You never hear, "Oh man, the Dallas Mavericks are gonna be awesome this year, they have like 3 Indian guys!"

I've heard little comments like that before. As if I am the first ever Indian. I invented Indians. I'm the first one to move to this country. In fact the name "India" is Hindi for "Paul". Like every morning when I wake up, I get to decide which race I'd like to be. I became Indian to spite others. Why has no one else figured it out? One comedian once said "Hey I love the Indian stuff. Great gimmick!"

Gimmick? Like I'm some sort of villian from Scooby-Doo?

After the show, the other comedians catch me backstage.."Wait a minute Paul isn't Indian (pull my mask off) Mr. O'Malley!"

"And I would've gotten into Hollywood if it wasn't for you darn kids!"

But who can blame those jaded comics for thinking such things. You have to latch on to something. 'Tis always better to blame someone else for your own shortcomings.

Trust me, if all it took was being Indian and telling a joke to be successful, there would be Indian comedians headlining all across the country and in sitcoms. But there isn't. In the end it's all about who's original, funny, and works the hardest, regardless of race. And that's the reality of it.

We've done a South Asian comedy night at the Improv Comedy Club down here in Dallas for almost 3 years now and every so often a comedian will try to say something like..

"How come we can't have White Guy night at the Improv."

You do. It's called Thursday through Sunday. Don't ever play me the sad white guy violin about how us "ethnic" guys have it made. Blame your parents. They should've travelled overseas and spread their seed. I didn't choose your lack of melanin or my oversaturation of.

But it doesn't matter to the bittermen out there. I could do 40 minutes on cutting carrots and the criticism would still go back to my race. Good to see that's it's 2005 and things never change

God Bless Ignorance.

Oh by the way those folks who hate me are reading my blog right now and are steaming mad. Too bad they're not Indian, cus then they would know how to deal with the heat.

Tic Tock

Some people jingle keys. Some people fiddle fingers. Others chew straws. While others smoke. Alot of people tap their feet. Alot more people stare at the ground. There's many folks who hum. And another many folks play with their hair. A few people envision bacon being cooked. Even fewer cook bacon. Whatever it is they do..they're all variations on one thing

THE NERVOUS TIC

I ramble. Incessantly. On and On. Someone referred to me as a broken record. I prefer to say that in my head is DJ Mental, on the wheels of steel. He's remixing my thoughts, cutting the needle back and forth, scratching, hyping up the party.

I don't think it's really a nervous tic. I don't mind rambling. Other people mind it. It's the silence that I mind. I get bored easily. I mean I'm bored right now. So I guess by rambling, somehow I'm keeping my mind entertained and not necessarily the people who are within earshot.

I look at it like this. Every now and again, something funny slash insightful falls out. And being a comic it's my job to pick up what fell and jot it into something I can put on stage. So it's like if my stand-up act is like a dvd. Then sitting around and hearing me ramble is like watching the deleted scenes. If only people came with a trailer of what to expect, I'd be able to avoid those I don't ever want to talk to..

Like myself.

What a waste of blogspace.

I've got mail.

Dear Paul,
It's been 2 weeks . How have you been? I'm doing wonderful. My work has slowed down tremendously since we last chit-chatted. So now it's really just a lot of entertaining myself, trying to keep myself busy. I've been reminiscing alot about past events and what it used to be like. My achievements and struggles. Just really anything to keep going, so I don't die from boredom. You really should keep in contact more often. I'm lost without you. I thought everything was going great between us, but apparently it isn't. Did I do something wrong? Was it something I said? We've been through this before. Where you abandon me for a time then try to come back into my life like nothing ever happened. Well, it's happening again. It started in high school your senior year and then continued on throughout college. It's a road that I've been down before with you too many times that I'm fed up. Either you acknowledge me into your life from now on, or I'm leaving for good. I'm here for you. Use me.
Sincerely,
Your Brain

Who do you believe?

Buddha or David Koresh?

My car's engine light mysteriously came on last night. A couple of things always pop in my head when stuff like that happens

1. Will all the other lights pop on just to overly frighten me?
2. Did all my times of starting the car twice, when I was completely smashed, finally catch up to me?
3. I wish I knew how to work on cars instead of work on jokes (there's never a need-to-laugh emergency..unless you're watching UPN)

My dad seems to think that it's just a glitch. The car's way of fooling me. Forget that it's a 96 model and has 150,000 miles on it. The car has it out for you. It's just playing. Like how you joke on stage, it's joking on the freeway.

Ha Ha Hee Hee your car's gonna stall!

My car's never lied to me.
My dad has.
Let's compare

96 Nissan Maxima

- Oil light pops on when it needs to be changed
- Goes to "E" when I'm running out of gas
- Brakes squeak when they're worn

77 Dad Varghese

- Told me there was a Santa Claus
- Said I was his favorite
- Clapped when I graduated UNT with a degree in Film

Time to go get a tune-up.

Trippin..

I just finished packing my stuff to head on back home to Dallas. I always have that weird gutteral feeling that I forgot something when I leave. I turn OCD (yeah you know me) and start checking all around the place, making sure nothing's left behind. I'm scouring through places I know I never used. I'm pulling up carpet, looking in cookie jars. The bedroom wall got a nice sledgehammer uppercut just cus I couldn't find my toothpaste.

I'm performing with Russell Peters next week in Austin and back here in Dallas. He's an Indian comic from Canada who's a huge huge name up there and getting just as big down here. Really cool guy. He got alotta buzz when someone put one of his hourlong comedy specials from Canadian TV on their website. Alot of people downloaded it then emailed the link to friends and buzz about him grew down here. He's been selling out every venue's he's been in, including the ones in Austin and Dallas. So all that rambling led me to this..

Why can't my clips get that kind of play? I want buzz. Heat. A following. T-shirts, lots of T-shirts. A fan club. and a fan site as well. Some one (maybe some 300) thinking that I'm the new deity of the month and creating a compound/fanatic cult in my honor.

Maybe 4 one-minute clips isn't meaty enough to create a buzz. Would a 10 minute video of a Christmas play, when I was 8, work? How about my trip to India when I was 17 and was frustrated the whole time because there was no running hot water. Or the time I was 17 and we videotaped toilet papering somebody's house but we were so adolescent and giddy that it was just 25 minutes of night sky, running footsteps, and giggling

Maybe I need to find me Paris Hilton and....

I mean you figure with a name like Hilton shouldn't an Indian person be involved somehow?

Take my name..take my name

The topic of marriage reared its ugly head with me and some friends the other day. Mainly the topic of the wife taking the husband's last name. Now let me go on record as..

I don't want her to take my last name.

No, I'm not a "Renaissance" man. No, I'm not concerned about all the paperwork she'll have to go through just to do the name switcheroo. No, I'm not gay. No, I'm not worried that by her taking my last name that it's my way of controlling her and laying claim to my property and that's a very caveman thing for you to do Paul, don't you care about her self-esteem and independence and rights as a woman of the millenium?

Of course I do.

But what I'm really more concerned about is which kid likes which parent better. See, if both parents keep their names and the child/childses are born, they're really only gonna be given their first name. It's about the time when the child reaches kindergarten age that THEY get to decide which last name they want: Mommy or Daddy's?

Which one do you love better little Ernie?

I think the African-American community owes the Asian community because we have supported them for many decades. Let's be honest, without Asians, Uncle Ben's would be out of business. Because we don't buy rice by the box, we buy by the pound. We buy rice like white people buy dog food..in those big bags that you can only find at the Asian grocery stores. We even keep it in a separate closet and use a plastic scoop.

- So come on Jay-Z, buy a sari for Beyonce. Jamie Foxx buy some sunglasses (who better to wear Ray-Bans than the man who played Ray Charles). Snoop Dogg I know you used to smoke weed..so you know all about the incense. Call up Satya Sai Baba in Bangalore and buy a brick of sticks.

"Rolling down the street..Bumpin bhangra, sippin on mango juice"