Editing Episode 144: "P Pocket"

== Date ==
December 6, 2013

== Guests ==
[http://www.jamalajohns.com/ Jamala Johns]

== Origin of the episode title ==
What Britney Spears' pants were.

== Discussed ==
JAMALA JOHNS is here to talk to Julie about upping her blouse game, natural hair and her blog le coil, Susan Sarandon, and why a high waist is better than a boat neck, unless you're Geena Goddamn Davis.

Also, Julie has thoughts about gradual patriarchy-toppling, a story about a name-dropping masseuse, a eulogy for selfies, and a bunch of ideas about Lady Gaga (sorry.)

Plus: artisanal chocolate bar browsing! The tyranny of Vanity Fair in regards to its efforts to keep that Paltrow article out of our reach! And a beardless Mandy Patinkin.

== Trivia ==
* Asking a woman for her opinion on Lady Gaga is the best gift you can give her.
* The opening monologue is 41 minutes and every minute of it is golden.

== Download the Episode ==
[http://howwasyourweek.libsyn.com/jamala-johns-p-pocket-ep-144 Episode Link]

== Monologue Transcript ==
''Transcription by Joan''

Hello hello. Hi everybody, it's Julie Klausner back for another episode of How Was Your Week.

Happy Holidays, everybody. H O L I D A Z E is the way we spell 'Holidays' to be whims-e-cal and to comment on the fact that we're all in a daze for two and a half weeks? three weeks? Is the year over yet? See you next year!

At what point does this podcast become me free-associating XXXX-style? Sooner than you think!

I hope it feels like Christmas wherever you are, because it don't feel like Christmas here!

I have been working on this new gig and it's only for a couple more weeks and it's at 30 Rock. I'm writing Carson Daly's -- no -- although it would be great if Carson Daly had like a one-man show as a special. Like a Mark Twain-style kind of -- hey, they did the Sound of Music live, there's no reason -- well, ONE big reason, which is that it's a turkey of an idea. But, I'm not working Carson Daly's Playhouse 60. I'm writing on this thing and it's at 30 Rock. Rocker-feller, I like to call it. 

You know what's there? The tree. Big tree. Pretty big tree. Lots of lights. Lights, camera, Christmas! I've made my peace with it over the years. The War on Christmas is not one that won. "It is not one that will be won, ladies and gentlemen." Christmas always wins. You know why? People like stuff. People like stuff.

People like overeating and drinking a lot of alke-hol. Not to be all "oh, I ate so much," but oh, did I eat so much since I last spoke to you. There was a period where I spent my Thanksgiving weekend doing nothing. I played Candy Crush. I watched pornographies. It was actually kind of embarrassing. It was such a lazy -- I was such a lazy loafer to the extent that Monday I remember waking up feeling guilty, so guilty that I bought a fire extinguisher and a de-mineralization cartridge for my humidifier on cyber-monday. I thought to myself "I've gotta get my life together!" "Why, because you ate a candy bar?" Yeah! Aaaaaand jerky! 

I spent my... Friday? Who knows? Black Friday, Cyber Monday... at Whole Foods. I thought to myself "How about some groceries, that'll be a good activity"  I ended up at Whole Foods for... a few hours? I don't know. It's not a good place to go to leisurely. You go to Whole Foods with a mission... and a big paycheck! Whole Paycheck, right? 

I browsed by candy bars for long enough that if I were a security person I would have trailed me. Trailed or tailed? Whatever. I would have just said like, "We need eyes on the redhead in aisle..." Whole Foods doesn't have numbers for their aisles, do they? It's so gosh. Too bourgeois. Maybe their aisles are named after beat poets.

"Check out the redhead in Ferlinghetti lingering on the white chocolate with maple leaves, bacon and candy corn and beer as ribbons on a bar. It's $85 and she's just looking at it. Picking it up! She's taking it out of her cart and putting it back." And then they'd realize I wasn't going to steal anything. 

I ended up just buying a babka. The end! I took the babke home, cut myself a slice, put the rest in the freezer, where I can forget about it!

I am very --- I'm not used to working around people. I've been working in a conference room with four, five, six -- I don't know. It could be literally any number of men. A couple women, they come in and out. But it's me and the guys! They reference when they fart. They'll say like, "I'm sorry." What. Is. Happening. To society?! Men in the workplace. I've historically been against men in the workplace. I don't think they're professional. I don't respect their process! 

I'm not trying to be anti-male. I AM trying to smash the patriarchy. In dribs and drabs. I do a little bit every day. Like today for example, I didn't listen to someone.

But, I'm not used to being around people. The last time I was in an office was in the writers room with Jake and Billy. It's fun -- it breaks up the solitude. But it also lends itself to -- I guess when you're around people that are different than you, you realize that not everyone is delighted by you and your ''thing'' quicker than you would have hoped. Today, I believe around 4:30 or so, the lady to my left said "Oh, Nelson Mandela died." and I go, "Finally!" There's a couple of pregnant beats of silence, looking on the internet and she says a little later, "Mandy Patinkin shaved his beard!" and I go, "WHAT?!".  

So, that's where I'm at. Even if I don't know who I am, I like myself. 

'''Mandy Patinkin''' shaved his beard. Mandy Patinkin shaved his beard. Mandy Patinkin shaved his beard. Mandy Patinkin shaved his beard. Mandy Patinkin shaved his ''face''. I would have kept the beard. I'm not saying I want more of Mandy Patinkin obscured, I'm just saying Mandy Patinkin with a beard brings out the ''essence'' of Mandy Patinkin. Though Mandy Patinkin with a beard is not hiding Mandy Patinkin. Mandy Patinkin with a beard is more Mandy Patinkin. I miss the beard. I'm not saying it's not --- well, he looked better in Yentl. That's just a thing I'm going to say now about people, to hurt their feelings. "Eh, they looked better in Yentl."

Speaking of Mandy Patinkin, I swear this is related, I got a massage. This isn't gross. I got a massage over the holiday weekend. I didn't let myself do any work. There was work I could have done and I was just like "Julie, put a cork in it and take a powder. You're gonna be a slob. You're gonna be a slob surrounded by sloth and you're not gonna beat yourself up about it." And I said, "Don't tell me what to do!"

I decided I wanted to get a massage. And I decided that -- I had downloaded this app and hadn't gotten a chance to use it -- that would be a good opportunity to use it, whenever this was.  This was an app called Zeel. Z-e-e-l. I'm not being paid to advertise for them. Although, if I were paid to advertise for them, I would do it suchly, "Zeel! We won't rape you!"  Because. What Zeel does is send a masseuse of either gender - you can choose male or female. I choose males. You know why? They can really just beat the shit out of you. And then they'll send a masseur to your house within an hour after they do a background check -- of you.

So, I type in my address, my credit card, that I want a deep tissue massage, not a swedish massage. This was unfortunately after I watched a few stand up specials on Netflix streaming, I won't lie.  I watched the Jim Norton special in which he talked about getting happy endings from masseurs. It wasn't good that that was fresh in my mind, anyway. I'm glad to see that someone is speaking to John Travolta's dalliance with reverse happy endings. And FURTHERMORE, Merry Christmas, John Travolta. And Oliva Newton-John to a lesser extent. But together, they are a third entity and I wish Oliva Newton-John and John Travolta a very happy Christmas. Because their version of "Baby, It's Cold Outside" is -- and I'm including Eraserhead in this -- the weirdest thing I've ever heard or seen. 

After you ask for a deep tissue massage with a male masseuse, you hit Send and then you get a confirmation text that says "Dennis Smith" we'll say, "is coming to your house in 30 minutes." And that's when I thought, "Gee, whiz! What if Dennis rapes me?" So I Googled him and found that he had a nice face and I was like, "Oh," and I moved on. No, that's not true, I looked at his credentials on Zeel, which is probably not the best place to look for credentials -- from the place that sends them to you. But for some reason you want to buy into the corporate message at that point once you've already clicked 'Send'. So I just wanted to be soothed by their Frequently Asked Questions. Some of them were written in a rather congenial way and that comforted me. They just looked like a company that would be accountable if one of their masseurs DID rape you. 

So I thought to myself, "I'm going to give this guy the benefit of the doubt. He PROBABLY won't rape me." Although IF he did, it would have been easy. You know what I mean? I'm not saying it would have been justified, I'm just saying the fact that I thought about it -- there's just sort of rapin' circumstances. Any massage -- well, not any massage, I guess. But doing that pool-side massage, you're probably not going to get raped. By the guy doing it. You might get raped in your hotel room later by the person who took you on that sleazy vacation to begin with. Never get a pool-side massage. What's wrong with you? Go back to your room. Close the door. Draw the blinds. Draw a bath!

So this guy, Dennis Smith, comes over to my apartment with a massage table that is disassembled and in gigantic sort of padded canvas carrying case. But then it's also precariously balanced on a hand truck. He wheels this gigantic, however collapsable massage table -- it's still pretty big -- into my living room and '''Jimmy Jazz''' takes off likea bat out of hell, into my bedroom, hides under the chest of draw-ers. Dennis says under his breath, "Cats always freak out." Oh gee, Dennis, I wonder why. I wonder why cats freak out when strange men come into their homes and just decide to set up furniture and they bring tables with them. That doesn't make sense, Dennis! That doesn't make sense to a cat! This is weird to begin with. 

"Cats always freak out." Yeah. Yeah, Dennis, that's gonna happen. Cats are gonna run away from you if you come into their apartments setting up tables so you can rub their owners. They smell like other people

He sets up the massage table. Zeel told me to have two sheets and a towel ready which is completely like some Ricki Lake ''The Business of Motherhood'' kind of "Boil some water, she's in labor!"-kind of thing of tell some one. But they had my credit card number so I shut up. They also said "Don't help the masseur set up the table" and I was like, "Fine by me! Wasn't planning to, but now I know to avoid eye contact while he's doing it, offer to help and in fact, I thought to myself, while he's setting it up, that would be a good opportunity for me to go and get those two sheets and a towel. 

I think once he was completely done, I said, "do you need a hand?" to be awful. Then he puts your sheet on the bottom  and your sheet on the top -- he makes the bed, basically, with your belongings. He folds it after, by the way. Not after he raped me, we established this. Anyway, he goes into the bathroom to wash his hands and that's when I get in between the sheets and that's when it dawns on me that I'm in my own apartment. And the pleasure of the lack of commute back from whatever massage I'm about to receive is balanced in turn by the weirdness of what has happened and is happening and what will happen. Because at no point tid I forget I was in my apartment. 

There's something also about when you rearrange the furniture, even if it's temporary, like you put a table in the middle of the floor where it usually isn't, that just completely fucks you up. It feels like you're on some sort of vacation. That's, by the way, probably the saddest tip I could ever think of. If Time Out New York ever does a... Is Time Out New York JUST for the clinically depressed? "7 Things to Do On Your Staycation". 1 would be "rearrange the furniture" or "buy different groceries than the ones you usually do" or "if you feel like you're going to kill yourself, call someone first!" 

TimeOut New York is like "Hey! Get out there! Need to meet someone? Try dating! Here's seven New Yorkers that are single and are all disgusting. Here's 6 museums that you'll never go to. Especially if you're unemployed. Take advantage of this great City! Here's a calendar. On Wednesday, you can go see this circus troupe perform at an improv theater! That'll bring you up to Thursday, when it's Taco night at the prison near Wall Street."

I'd actually love to go to taco night in prison. That's how I would meet Cannibal Cop. I'm not up to Cannibal Cop! 

I'm getting a massage from Dennis. And there's no music on because I didn't put music on. Dennis does a great job. I should have mentioned that earlier. No! I'm not getting paid by Zeel dot app! Dennis does a fine job.

I will mention when I Googled Dennis, besides finding his bio on the Zeel website, I did find his LinkedIN and under his bio it said he has worked on celebrities. I thought "Oooh, he's probably a name dropper!" I love name droppers. I love people who drop names and people who talk shit. Because both of those things are good stories. Even if the name dropper is full of shit, at least you have a good story about the name dropper. 

So Dennis hadn't said a word. Because he was setting up that fucking table for a really long time. And I told him what was wrong with me -- Spoiler Alert! -- plenty. You don't even want to know the problems I have. Rotator cuff. Just a nightmare. I'm wearing tape as I talk to you right now. My PT taped me. I look like a crazy minimalist invalid. 

This is not about my problems! This is about Dennis' solutions. So Dennis was completely quiet before and during the massage. The massage finishes I say "Thank you so much, that was so great." Meanwhile, he's folding my sheets up, I went into my bedroom, put my robe on. Thinking "It's my place, I can wear a robe!" Dennis doesn't seem to mind. And by the way, yes, I was wearing underpants the whole time. Ugh. 

While he's folding up the sheet, I must have been off the table for, I don't know, a few minutes? He goes, "You know I've worked on Lauren Hutton." 

I said, "Wow!" And to be fair, he didn't bring it up out of nowhere. I said, "Have you worked with people that have what I have? Is it that bad? I'm on a computer all day." My right shoulder's all fucked up. 

He said, "Oh, I've worked on people that are much worse."

I said, "Oh, that makes me feel good!"

He said, "Lauren Hutton for example!" She fell off of a motorcycle -- never a good thing to do. Getting on one in the first place, I mean. Seriously, never get on a motorcycle. I mean, why would anyone -- doesn't make sense. I defer to the Curb Your Enthusiasm episode with Paul F. Tompkins on a motorcycle trying to pass for a Jewish person. No Jew would ever be on a motorcycle. Doesn't make sense! There's nothing more dangerous than riding a motorcycle, you do realize that? I'm not saying that if you hurt yourself, I'm not going to feel terrible, because I do feel terrible for people who hurt themselves on bikes. Bikes, I call them. Like I'm a regular Hell's An-gel.

He said, "Lauren Hutton fell off a dirt bike" or a bike that she was riding in the dirt. She fell off, thank god she was wearing a helmet, if she weren't wearing a helment, Lauren Hutton would not be here with us today. 

He worked on her while she was doing that weird talk show. She was on a bunch of screens at the same time. And it was called 'Lauren' or 'Hutton'. And we watched clips of it in our History of Communications class in the Television Department of NYU because money didn't matter. Especially it was your parent's money. At the time!

Hey, everything's fine now!

He mentioned Lauren Hutton. I said, "Wow! I remember that talk show! Uh-huh! Oh! She's gorgeous! Oh wow, that's so cool!"

And THEN he says, "I've also worked on Mandy Patinkin."

And, listener, I nearly fell off my couch and died.

But Dennis wanted to talk about Mandy Patinkin! And who was I to stop him?

He said that Mandy's a very rich man, as far as richness in his brain. Rich like a chocolate mousse, but for intellect and moral turpitude --He didn't say any of this, he just said that he's very smart and he's very nice. 

But all I could think about what his rubbing lotion. That scentless sort of cream, in Mandy Patinkin's back hairs. And then I thought about Mandy Patinkin's back hairs looking like Mandy Patinkin's beard. Which is gone! Along with Nelson Mandela! Finally! 

Sorry to all I have offended. Which is all of you on Twitter. I love it when people weight in on celebrity deaths, especially  when they weigh in on world leaders death's. Nothing funnier than seeing Lisa Rinna pipe out an "RIP Nelson Mandela" before she tweets half an hour later that she's going to get juice. It's the BEST thing of all time. I love Twitter. I love Twitter.

We should all be -- first of all -- as we go into 2014, I think we should put all selfies behind us. I saw a tourist taking a selfie of himself in front of the Rockefeller Christmas tree and for some reason that just did it. Like, nope! We're done! Didn't they choose it as word of the year or something? We're done. No more selfies in 2014. 

And in addition to that, we should all acknowledge that Snapchat was a boondoggle and that Twitter is here to stay. And every old person and out-of-touch square jerk-o needs to stop making fun of Twitter as "look at what I had for lunch today" because that's not what Twitter is, you fucking idiot. That's not what Twitter is. That's what YOU would use Twitter for! If anyone makes fun of Twitter and says that it's about quote "What their lunch was that day" they shouldn't be tweeting anyway and they don't understand things and you shouldn't be friends with them. And you should probably kill them while they're sleeping.

I heard about this German Cannibal Cop. I commend him for going through with it. He ate a guy's penis, right?  He ate a guy's penis, the guy died. He cut up the guy, he saved his parts, he made a stew. He was very, like, honestly, he acting with that guy's body the way most of us wish we would act around food in the Winter. Which is, I'm gonna freeze it and I'm gonna eat it. And that's what he fuckin' did. He stuck to his meal plan. And I think they ended up charging him with improper disposal because I don't think it's illegal to consensually eat and murder someone who was turned on by that act? Which was in this case ... by the way, this happens in Germany EVERY WEEK. I think that it only made news because he was a cop. I don't know. 

I don't know -- I actually DO know one German. She's a big Housewives fan. She thinks Peli and Kenya are from Mars and I don't think she's wrong!

"Zeel! We won't rape you!" He didn't, I can't guarantee that every masseur won't rape you. 

So I ordered a humidifier and a fire extinguisher, just in case one of my scented candles topples over. Or my menorah decides to re-ignite in a chronologically appropriate manner. 

I talked about this a couple weeks ago, the Jewish Calendar is officially out of control. That Hanukkah is over before December 6th is cruel to Jews, Jewish children. Adult Jews have had FDR and they had so much other garbage. But yeah, let's just start it from -- let's just shave our heads and start again. We'll start tomorrow, it'll be Arev. I don't remember a single month in Hebrew. PLEASE don't remind me. Surviving Hebrew school is the number one thing that I've ever done that was hard. So hard. I don't remember Hebrew. And I don't want to. 

I've had issues with Israeli culture, by the way. But not politically, just culturally. Like, they love the Doors in Israel. I went to a hot bar in Tel Aviv once and they played The Doors. [imitates opening to "Touch Me"] Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do, like that kind of Doors. Not the B-sides, the deep cuts on Morrison Hotel were not in circulation at Arev-Tov or whatever it's fucking called. 

I'm in favor of Israel, but you know what, don't plant a tree in my name in Israel. You can plant a tree in '''Smiley Muffin's name'''. But if you're going to give money to charity, I'm in this place right now I'm really into two things: toppling the patriarchy and human rights. And the idea that there are women and girls in third world countries that are treated worse than cattle, is so upsetting to me right now. 

And I'm in this place where that's should be everyone's priority, who wants to do good. And I'm not saying Rock Camp for Girls isn't fucking awesome and a great cause, but if you have money, like, put it towards the cause of ending sexual slavery. Child trafficking. I don't know, just a thought. They cut girls' clits off in Africa. Are you OK with that? Really? "No, I'm not OK with it, but I really think this community center could use a pool table." Well, they don't. They don't need one. I'm telling you right now. A girl in Africa needs her clit. I'm sorry to bring it down to this, but this is very pressing! And all of us have blood on our hands ''except'' Madonna. 

I'm going to give you a trigger warning right now, I'm going to talk about Lady Gaga. Which I don't believe anyone should do. And I apologize for doing it. I've been on the record about this. I don't think anyone should talk about Lady Gaga. I think it's fine to like her. I think it's great to like her. I think it's fine to hate her. I don't think it's OK to talk about her. But I'm going to do it anyway. You know why? Because I've been thinking about her a lot. 

I've been listening to ArtPop this week, her new record. And I hated it. Now I really like it. And I think every one of those songs she could have sold to Madonna. And I mean like in the last five years Madonna. The good Madonna! Confessions on a Dance Floor Madonna. Not American Life Madonna. There were a couple good tracks on MDNA. What was it? 'Girl Gone Wild'. The one with the cheerleaders I like also. Nicki Minaj. I don't get Nicki Minaj.

So it works out, Lady Gaga is a brilliant songwriter. Incredibly prolific songwriter. Pop savant. And she's a beautiful singer. I'm going to put a period at the end of that sentence because I watched her musical performance on SNL a few weeks ago. I don't have time to watch her on sketches, that's not how I -- I like living on the 'I might get hit by a bus tomorrow' wavelength and that's not the last thing I want to have done. No day but today.

So I watched her perform with R.Kelly and I was prepared for it because Billy Eichner had told me, I've never seen two people have less sexual chemistry or seem to want to fuck each other less. And I thought to myself 'Let's see'. And not only was he SO right, but before R. Kelly came out, it was so uncomfortable. She was just sort of dancing around, kind of Michael Jackson-esque, like grabbing her crotch and singing at the same time and singing great! I wouldn't ever be able to move and sing the way she does. I know that sounds simplistic, but it's not. She's an incredible singer. And then R Kelly came out and he did push ups over her -- it was insane. It was so awkward and bad and I think that song is awesome. I didn't like it at first, now I do. And I thought to myself, 'What is bothering me about this?' Is it the symmetry of her face or the lack of? Is it that she's wearing a blonde wig and I think of Madonna as the quintessential blonde? I thought, no, Britney's blonde and Christina Aguilera and all those pop stars. And then I thought, I know she's a bad dancer. And she is a bad dancer.  

But then I realized it went past that. I don't think she's a really good performer, except when she's behind a piano. Then, she's fantastic. I love Lady Gaga behind a piano, singing and playing, wearing something fun to look at. That works. But her, even just standing, is so awkward and uncomfortable, for me as an audience member to take in. It make me think about just how if a performer is comfortable with how they move and who they are -- I'm not saying she's not comfortable with who she is -- but when a performer is comfortable, you're comfortable in the same way that if you go to a party and someone's like, "I don't know where I put the eggs!" and you're like "Fuck this party, this is a bad party."

But it goes beyond that, and I think it taps into two things that generationally she represents, one of which is really good and one of which is not so great. The thing that's really good is 'Why Not Me?' Growing up with Madonna in her eyes and women that are starving and perfect in a symmetrical kind of fascist beauty standard kind of way. This, normal/cool-looking girl from New York City who is a weirdo and fucking brilliant says "I want to be a pop star, too. What can I do that they can't? Well, I can write. I can write stuff for myself and why shouldn't I be a star?" That's awesome. I love that. That's like Lena Dunham -- some pioneer shit. Some Kathleen Hanna shit.

What she does that I find disconcerting about millennials is that she -- and I talked about this a couple weeks ago on the show as far as my own, just sort of looking at myself and seeing... -- there are parts of me that I can improve, and one of which is the satisfaction with just doing ''something'' instead of doing ''everything''. And I think Lady Gaga has a hard time accepting that maybe she shouldn't do everything. If she's not good at dancing, maybe she shouldn't dance. If she's good at singing and playing piano, maybe she should just sing and play piano. Because her writing, it's so great. But, no, it's not enough. She has to fucking do it all. She has to host SNL AND play SNL. 

But, I'm just putting this out there that maybe just because you're skinny doesn't mean you're a performer. There are people who are so fucking comfortable in their bodies, in their skin. And I just saw the '''Divine''' documentary, which is really good. I really recommend it as a documentary, even if you're not a fan of Divine. It also covers the years from 1978 to 1983, which visually I find absolutely fascinating right now. And could you think of a performer that was more -- it was like ''breathing'' to Divine, being in his body. 

After I watched Lady Gaga on SNL, I went on Netflix and I watched a little of Madonna's latest concert. The concert film of the MDNA tour and it was so washed out cinematographically that it was like she had final approval of it and it wouldn't go to print until it had run through 12 Instagram filters and was individually burned under a spotlight so all you could see was eyeliner and hair when you look at her face. But, before I turned it off, because it was lousy -- the music was fine and she sounded fine, it was just the concepts were... really, Madonna? You're going to point a gun and pretend you're in a movie? It was boring. Before I turned it off, just watching the lights come up on her and watching her walk across the stage, I felt such an exquisite sense of relief that I didn't get from Lady Gaga writhing around. Oh my god, when you want somebody who is -- it goes beyond confidence. It's like your body is confident. It's beyond you. It's beyond your intention or your consciousness. That's a performer, ladies and gentlemen! 

By the way, although I don't believe you should speak about Lady Gaga, and I won't be doing so, or maybe I will, I don't fucking know. I will say this: one of the nicest things you can do for a woman is ask her what she thinks about Lady Gaga. That is a gift. And, I'm telling you this because people really want to talk about her. They think, in that sort of Twitter way, "I'd better weigh in on Mandela before I livetweet Sound of Music Live". People spend a lot of time thinking about their opinions and the import of them to others. Forming opinions, sharing opinions. 

I'm just saying that if you ever have to make small talk with someone, for example, I had an ID made for 30 Rockerfeller Plaza. After a woman took the most unflattering photo of me I've ever seen in my life, she had to type it in, tippy tippy typey, into the computer. Before it printed out, into some god-forsaken form into a plastic card that I cannot wait to shred. I looked at the bulletin board that was next to her monitor and it had a picture of, I don't know, a football player or a basketball player, and I said to her, "Is this your office or is it shared?" and she said "It's shared," so I said, "So that's not your team, that's not your guy?"  She's like, "No. I don't know who that is." I said, "Yeah, me neither. If it was Lady Gaga, I would know who it is."  And she laughed. And I thought, now we're connecting.

And I said, "Did you see her when she did SNL?" And she goes, "No, you know I dealt with her crew, but I didn't see her." And then I just drifted off and ended the conversation because I can't do everything, guys. Why have a show? This is why I interview people, because it helps me practice for real life, to be like, "This is over!" as opposed to being comfortable at a party and knowing when to walk away. I don't have to explain how challenging social interactions are to you, you understand that!

So anyway, I drifted off and she gave me my ID and that was it, but what I SHOULD have done is said, "What do you think of Lady Gaga? Do you like her?" Because that would have made her day and I didn't think of that until later, but I regret not asking her. I was curious to know what she thought of her. But I'm not curious to know what you think of her, so '''please don't tell me''' what you think of Lady Gaga. No offense.

Here's what you can do: you can tell me anything else that you think would be interesting to me. The odds are it will be. You can tell me 'Don't practice with your fire extinguisher on the roof, even though you want to because you'd have to have it ready for if there is a fire, you can't loosey goose it.' And I say to you, "But it would be fun to practice with the fire extinguisher on the roof and also, what if my apartment was on fire and I was panicking?"  And you would say "Your body would tell you what to do." And I would say, "mmm... that's never worked before, because my body, when it panics, just tells me to lie down on bathroom tile in a fetal position."  Those are my only life coping skills. That, and vodka. And I hate to be a cliché, but then again, we are who we are, I should start the show, right? Yes I should start the show!

Well, we've already started the show, but what I meant is, we should move on to the guest part of the show. 

Listen, even if AV Club's Podmass doesn't think that this podcast was one of the Top 10 podcasts of 2013, you and I both know they are full of shit. Because apparently it wasn't enough Julianne Moore and Camille Paglia in one year. What we do on this show goes beyond ''oooh, women in comedy''! It's not that conversation anymore. This isn't about women in comedy, this is about people in broadcasting. How dare you! And you know what, AV Club? I'm not looking at you. I'm not expressing this in your general direction. General direction, is that a Monty Python thing? 

I'm speaking to the bigger picture. I'm not interested in small potatoes. I want BIG potatoes. I'm saying, it's not your fault, AV Club. You were brought up under a fascist, patriarchal system that I'm going to smash every day. Little by little. With a ball peen hammer, until women finally get what they deserve. What's coming to them. Sandwich jokes. Spare me your sandwich jokes. "Make me a sandwich." Make ME a sandwich. Extra bread.

Hey listen, our guest this week is named Jamala Johns. She's really cool, she has a blog that's delightful. I really enjoyed talking to her and I hope you get to know her and know more about her by the end of this chat that we had. This was right before the holidays. She's terrific and looks way too good in clothes that what is acceptable for someone that charming and great. Please enjoy this chat I had with Jamala Johns.