Hello.  Did you have a nice day?  Oh, that's great.  Here's the thing, though.  While Pete, Torio (our intern) and I were running around NYC filming videos, bribing hotdog vendors, and avoiding the Spiderman musical for your benefit, you apparently were watching youtube videos about a homeless guy who landed his dream job in radio.  uh-hm. Let's focus on the task at hand, America.

Thanks,

Joe

(Your article is below.)

Most experts agree that parenting is a full-time job. Unfortunately, it has become apparent that people are taking the same half-hearted approach to parenting that they do at their day jobs at Chilis. But how can one really be sure?

Luckily, CNN has compiled a list of "white lies" that parents tell their children. Take a look at a few examples from real people.

White Lie told by Rebecca Schorr: "I pretend fortune-cookie fortunes say things like "Your bedtime tonight will be 15 minutes earlier."

White Lie told by Henry Corbett: "When I'm getting ready in the bathroom and the kids start banging on the door, I pretend that it's stuck when I really have it locked."

Luckily, I've arranged for key people in these parents' lives to tell them with "white lies." Let's see if they think the lies are just as harmless.

White Lie told TO Christine Stevens: "I tell my wife Christine that I still find her attractive even though I am repulsed by her." - Mark Stevens, Christine's Husband

White Lie told TO Rebecca Schorr: "I told my wife not to get a haircut because I love it when her hair is longer instead of telling her that I lost our savings at the dog track." Ed Schurr, Rebecca's Husband

White Lie told TO Henry Corbett: "I recently told Henry that his cancer isn't terminal because I had dinner plans later that evening and didn't want to deal with all of that drama." -- Dr. Paul McKinley, Mayo Clinic

                             Pictured above: car is ready to go

Update by Pete

Anyone who thinks they can shoot a feature film with only the help of one other person is an idiot - take it from idiot #1. We’ve spent the past week ramping up to our January 1 sendoff working around the clock filming comedy shows, cutting web videos, writing new material, learning about who talks in their sleep, surviving on terrible sandwiches, oh, and shooting material for the film in between. It’s ironic that I took some time off from my actual job working 10-15 hour days to work 16 – 20 hour days instead, but that’s production for you. I remember the days when I could actually do this kind of stuff with ease - when I was young and eager to learn, but now I’m just old, bitter, and my back hurts a lot from lugging all of that damn camera gear around.

I must say that the new intern has really come through, though. Torio is helping us basically do, um…pretty much everything for the tour. He told us that he had applied for an IT job one time and they turned him down due to the fact that he had absolutely no IT experience. So naturally, we threw him into the web design process and had him changing code for all of our website material that needed to go live by Jan. 1. We here at COB believe in opportunity… or again, maybe it’s just idiocy. Either way, we’re live.

- Pete

Update by Joe

According to an article on yahoonews.com, If one expresses his feelings in a letter, those feelings will be better understood (and received) by the recipient.  So, I've written my thoughts about our 2 days in NYC in letter form.

1. Dear Audience Members: it is impossible to look cool lugging around a backpack, projector (replete with a carrying case made entirely from Richard Simmons' lycra-spandex shorts) and a 30-lb projector screen that looks like a shotgun.  It's hard to nonchalantly walk onto stage and make hilarious observations about your deficiencies when I have to set up a projector/screen for ten minutes.   I remind myself of my 8th grade gym teacher when he was forced to teach "Health and Sexuality."  He would fumble around with the overhead projector and you got the sense his mind was still in the gymnasium, collecting dodgeballs, clocking in shuttle run times, and mentally guessing the number of sit-ups each student could do in 60 seconds.  Point is: take those few minutes during my set-up to reflect on your sadness instead of throwing beer bottles at my Richard Simmons' Lycra-spandex case.  Thanks.

2. Dear New Yorkers: I am not a magician.  My giant shotgun/projector screen does not suddenly appear out of thin air for a surprise blow to your groin (although I wish it did).  You can see it and me from blocks away if not from space.  Instead of walking into it and sending me twirling around like some princess from an animated Disney cartoon, please consider dropping to the floor and rolling into nearby subway stations effective immediately.

3. Dear Hollywood/Nick Cage: Please stop making movies about sorcery.  No one cares about secrets from the 17th century.  We want stories that take place in contemporary times with characters that are relatable like shrewish women or men who cannot comprehend the principles behind car repair and gravity.  Plus, cameos by Robert Loggia.

4  Dear shuttle driver: I had a dream.  And in that dream, you picked me up from the Newark airport at a predetermined time.  In that dream, the hotel also confirmed that you would be going to the airport every half hour on the hour.  I must have been dreaming because in reality you arrived to pick me up at a time that indicated no forethought.  I actually believe you showed up at the airport accidentally and when I flagged you down, it jogged some sort of memory about your job.   I guess your memory wasn't jogged enough, though, since you actually asked ME for directions back to the hotel. 

Also, just a heads up: since you stopped to fill up on gas (which took about 1 hour because the van was the size of a space shuttle) and smoked a few cigarettes on the way back to the hotel, it's not impolite to also see a movie (like James L. Brooks' latest laugh-fest How do you Know?), do laundry, or take the LSATs while I sit inside a heatless van listening to Gloria Estefan's Rhythm is Gonna Getcha in perpetuity.

5. Dear Waitress in hotel lounge: staring at me (with your coworkers) will not stop me from writing on my laptop in your restaurant.  I appreciate your subtle signals, though.  For example, sweeping up next to me while occasionally shoving the broom into my feet was not lost on me.  I look forward to our continued tension throughout the rest of the week.

Dear Conanorbust readers: Please keep reading and send your love/hate our way.  We're writing two new videos for NYC that should be fun.  I'll talk to you soon.

Joe