By Sean Patrick
Lately I have been seeing a ton of Top Ten lists about the past decade: Top Ten Sports Teams, Top Ten Songs, Top Ten Movies, etc. Recently it was suggested that I should create my own Top Ten list of the decade. After thinking it over, I’ve decided to make a list of…
SEAN’S TOP TEN THINGS HE THOUGHT WOULD HAPPEN TO HIM BY THE END OF THE DECADE, BUT DIDN’T
10. LOSE MY PASSION FOR LFO MUSIC - When I was 18, I was a closet LFO fan… and by closet fan I mean that my closet was full of the finest LFO paraphernalia. At the time I felt that this was just something that every adolescent boy went through, and I was sure that the obsession would fade. This couldn’t be farther from the truth. Today if hear an LFO song I morph into a thirteen year old girl at a Jonas Brothers concert: I faint, I cry, and because I’m so aroused, I feel like I’m finally on my way to becoming a woman.
9. HAVE A BACHELORS DEGREE IN FILM DIRECTING - So close, yet so far. I was twenty four credits away from becoming the next Steven Spielberg, and here I am today, sitting in a robe at 3pm wondering when I’ll have to start prostituting myself to pay rent. Although I didn’t get my bachelors in film, I did get a degree in English which, unless you are going to be a teacher, is about as useless as a Happy 33rd Birthday card for Brittany Murphy.
8. I WOULD LIVE IN THE CITY OF SCHAUMBURG - Again, so close, yet so far. Two miles separate me from one of my greatest childhood ambitions. What little boy doesn’t dream about living in Schaumburg, Il? They have Gameworks, Portillos, and a baseball team belonging to the illustrious Midwest Northern League, the powerhouse of the upper-middle northeast Single A Baseball Division. If I lived in Schaumburg I could attend four Schaumburg Fliers vs. Fargo-Moorhead Red Hawks baseball games a year! But because I live in Roselle, Schaumburg’s drug addicted younger step-brother, I don’t feel welcome.
7. I WOULD OWN MY OWN MINI-VAN - When I was eighteen, I was riding around in my parents’ black 1990 Ford Aerostar mini-van. Besides its lack of reliability and frightening carbon dioxide emissions, it was the perfect automobile. I was sure that in ten years I would own one myself. I don’t. I drive a regular car. It’s very embarrassing for a twenty-eight year old to have to drive around in a vehicle that is not a mini-van. All I can say is, I’m sorry my former eighteen year old soccer mom spirited self… I’ve let you down.
6. I WOULD BE A SELLOUT - Because of the fame that I predicted I would have, I figured that I would be asked to be a spokesman for various products… and I would accept every single offer. Car batteries, blank cd’s, chicken wire, door knobs, scissors, air pressure… I wouldn’t care. But that didn’t happen. Instead at twenty eight I’m the posterboy for career suicide.
5. I WOULD STOP GETTING ACNE -
nope
4. I WOULD HAVE AN EXTENSIVE AND FASHIONABLE WARDROBE -
nope
3. I WOULD RUIN MY CAREER AT A LIVE AWARDS SHOW - Whether it be from making loud farting noises during an emotional acceptance speech or laughing out loud during the “In Memorium” portion of the Golden Globes, I anticipated damaging my film career at an awards show. You think Kanye was bad? Imagine me at the 2009 Oscars interrupting Heath Ledger’s grieving family to announce that, “I’m really happy for you, and I’m going to let you finish… but Josh Brolin in Milk gave one of the best supporting actor performances of all time!”
2. I WOULD HAVE A CELEBRITY ENTOURAGE - Since I was going to be a filmmaker, I figured I would be surrounded with celebrity friends. Adam Sandler would be my golfing buddy, Bill Murray would be my poker buddy, and Johnny Depp would be the guy who got me into cocaine. Yet here I am, at twenty-eight, and the closest I’ve gotten to making a celebrity friend is when I creeped out Taylor Hicks… and I’m not even sure if he’s considered a celebrity anymore.
1. I WOULD BE WEALTHY BEYOND MY WILDEST DREAMS - How far I am from that prediction became very clear to me yesterday, when I got all Oprah’s-favorite-things-excited after winning $4 on a scratch off ticket.
boo yah
Happy New Years Everyone!
By Sean Patrick
On a Friday during my first semester at the University of Illinois, my friend Courtney and I had made plans to see the second best 80s metal cover band in the midwest:
Hairbangers Ball 2
Panama: The Story of my 80s Mishap
Hairbangers Ball is an 80s cover band that frequently plays around the Chicagoland area. Right before I left for school, my older brother took me to one of their shows. It was amazing. Within an hour the lead singer was on stage pouring Jack Daniels into my mouth. Aside from seeing LFO at the Allstate Arena, that was the single best concert experience of my life. So when I heard that their back up band was coming to U of I, I knew that I had to be there. And I also knew that I had to go with Courtney because she was a huge 80s rock fan… so much so that she showed up that evening wearing an 80s snake skin jacket.
Acknowledgment of My 80s Music Devotion
Before I go on with the story, I want to make it clear that I am a fan of 80s music. It’s delightful. However, I am not the biggest 80s rock fan that you’ll find. I enjoy the music, I enjoy the transgender outfits the guys wore, and I really enjoy hearing about the drug problems they all had. However, there are other musical genres that I appreciate more, and my knowledge of 80s metal pales in comparison to others. Sure, I know most of the big 80’s hits and have a few Bon Jovi cds… but when track 9 off of Warrant’s third album is being played, I have no idea what it is.
Side Story
Before we headed to the venue, we decided to stop at a bar along the way to do some pre-drinking. While we were there, Courtney bumped into a guy she knew. Since it was so long ago I can’t remember what he looked like, but I do remember that he was sporting a beautiful brown leather jacket. I was fascinated with it. When Courtney left to go get a drink, I had to let him know how much I admired it.
“I like your coat.”
After I said this, he looked at me with a devastated face. Then with a somber voice he responded.
“It was my grandpa’s.”
…………..
oops.
Anytime your first attempt at small talk leads to an emotional declaration about a recently deceased relative, it really discourages you from asking anymore questions. So after having the shortest conversation in the history of our country, we sat there silently until Courtney came back.
The Concert
The venue that the band was playing at wasn’t very big. This was good because it made it easy to get up to the front row even though there was a pretty decent crowd. After me and Courtney grabbed a drink, we headed towards the stage to get the best spots available.
When the band first came out on stage, I knew it was going to be a great night. Why? Because the snakeskin pants that the lead singer was wearing perfectly matched the snakeskin coat that Courtney had on. It was like witnessing the reunion of long lost twins. He quickly spotted Courtney’s coat and pointed to his pants to signal that he noticed the match. All was grand.
The first hour of the show was a good for me, but not great. Although they played some songs that I knew, a pretty fair amount of their set list was unfamiliar to me. I put up a front like I knew all the songs, but I was struggling. In fact, I put up such a good front that when the female singer was belting out yet another song that I didn’t know, she put her head by mine and the microphone between us so I could sing along with her. Unfortunately I had to just stand there silently with an uncomfortable smile until she took the mic away and found a guy that actually knew the song. Although it was a tad humiliating, I was fortunate enough to get the chance to redeem myself in front of everyone.
After playing a couple more songs that I’d never heard of, they started playing “Panama” by Van Halen. I was ecstatic to finally be rocking out to a song that I was familiar with, and I displayed this excitement with constant jumping and fist pumping. The lead singer noticed how much I was digging the song, and when it got to the chorus he gave me the microphone.
For those of you who don’t know, right before the chorus hits in “Panama,” there is a break in the singing, a guitar riff, and the lead singer yells, “PANAMA!” It’s brilliant.
I couldn’t believe I was getting the chance to sing the chorus. When the microphone was put up to my face, I grabbed it, looked into the lead singers eyes, and belted out, “PANAMA!!!”
Boom! I had redeemed myself! Everyone around me now knew that I was a huge 80s fan, and the mishap earlier was all a fluke. But after my moment of redemption, I immediately sensed there was a problem.
After passionately screaming “PANAMA!” into the microphone, the lead singer took it away from me and gave me a funny look. Then he continued singing the words, “What goes around, comes around.”
“What the hell is he singing?” I thought to myself. Then it quickly hit me.
“Oh shit! I sang the wrong song!”
He was singing “Round and Round” by Ratt, a song that I’d maybe heard twice before in my life, and a song that, to me, sounds exactly like Van Halen’s “Panama.” I had been given the keys to the 80s rock kingdom, and I blew it. My lack of 80s knowledge was exposed to all the people around me, and for the rest of the show I stayed away from the front of the stage.
To this day, if I hear “Panama” or “Round and Round,” I wait til the chorus until I start singing along. Actually, if the song turns out to be “Round and Round” I just turn it off, for not only does the song invoke painful and humiliating memories, but it also kind of sucks.
By Sean Patrick
With a reputation for being dangerously spontaneous, Sean Milnamow, 94, died Tuesday after getting into a knife fight at the Jersey Shore.
Known best for his numerous ear enhancement surgeries and collection of giant hats, Sean leaves behind a legacy of taking unfunny and confusing jokes way too far.
While he was never an aggressive human being, he always bragged that he wanted to die at the hand of someone else’s blade while visiting the Jersey Shore. This wish was to be his final unfunny and confusing joke. And like all the others, it went too far.
He is survived by his embarrassed wife, embarrassed kids, and embarrassed grandkids. His great-grandkids are more baffled than embarrassed.
By Sean Patrick
I always hated the grab bags we would have in grade school. Not because I always got a bad gift… but because I always got the exact same bad gift during my entire elementary school career. It’s the single worst present that can be given to a child, because when it’s wrapped up it looks like it could be awesome. Yet it is anything but. I’m talking about…
The Roll Up Sled
First off, don’t let the look on this kids face fool you: he’s not having fun. His mom ordered him to smile for the camera. After he refused to do so, she threatened that he would not receive Christmas gifts if he didn’t show his teeth, prompting him to give the performance of his lifetime and appear to be excited to be riding the worst sled ever created. Even though I wasn’t present at the time this photo was taken, I know that there is no other logical explanation as to why this kid has a happy look on his face.
Back to the constant disappointment I felt during the grade school grab bag
It was the same every year. If you were a boy, you would buy a gift for a boy, and the girls would do the same. We were never assigned to a certain person, we were just told to bring in a gift a boy would like that was around $10.
On the day before Christmas vacation we would bring our gifts in, and each year I would immediately spot the large tubular present and pray to God that it wasn’t assigned to me. Actually that’s not true for every year: in kindergarten everyone wanted to pick this gift because of its size, and because we had no idea what it was. In our minds that could have been a bazooka, and what 6 year old wouldn’t want to be playing with an oversized war weapon? So that year I felt very lucky to be given the first pick of the grab bag draft. But after opening it up and seeing what it was, the prosperous feeling quickly went away, and after playing with that piece of crap for two minutes I knew, even at the age of six, that this was the worst gift I would ever get.
Here’s the problem with the roll up sled
Here are the numerous problems with the roll up sled
First thing’s first: the roll up sled doesn’t work. Plastic glides on snow, but the plastic used to manufacture the roll up sled doesn’t. It defies the law of physics. When I get on a sled, I assume that I will go down a hill at a somewhat accelerated pace. I’m not a thrill seeker, nor was I as a child, so I don’t expect to be traveling at 94 mph. But when I’m sledding I do expect to get to the bottom of a hill faster than I can walk to it. That doesn’t happen with the roll up sled. In fact, any kid that attempts to stay loyal to the roll up sled and slide it all the way to the bottom of a hill either dies of starvation or goes insane due to sleep deprivation.
Another problem with this piece of junk is that the roll up sled does exactly what it’s title suggests: it rolls up during a sledding session. Take another look at the kid.
He is barely on that thing! About fifty percent of the sled is already out of commission, and he hasn’t even travelled eight feet! Every inch he goes down the hill his ass gets an inch closer to being in the snow, and within seconds the sled will be rolled up into its original cylinder shape and he’ll be sitting in the snow, depressed and determined to live in a tropical area when he grows up.
The final flaw with the roll up sled is also my favorite part about it: it breaks immediately. After two attempted trips down a hill, it rips (since all of my plastic containers have been in the Milnamow family for many generations, this again makes me wonder what kind of plastic they use to manufacture this sled). Typically a child is upset when their toy breaks, but with this toy children are delighted at it’s demise. It’s like watching a villain in a Disney movie die. The kid is no longer obligated to associate himself with this embarrassing novelty, and can now move forward with his life free of guilt.
Back to my childhood
As I said before, after kindergarten I knew that I never wanted a roll up sled again. Yet for the next six years of my life, my grab bag gift was always a large devilish cylinder disguised in pleasant Christmas paper. I know what you’re wondering: why not avoid the gift? Well, after being rewarded with the first pick in kindergarten, I put up an impressive streak of getting the last pick every year after. And since every kid was trained to avoid the large cylinder gift as if it were Keanu Reeves movie, that was always the present left for me. 
By Sean Patrick
This is the stand up routine that I wrote. I have yet to perform it anywhere because I don’t like my current haircut, but after it grows out I plan on performing this all around the country. I added notes in parenthesis to remind myself what to do while I’m on stage.
Enjoy.
(Walk out on stage. Don’t worry about your hair. Your last haircut grew out and now you look like you could be related to Matt Damon. Maybe as a cousin or something. Begin routine)
Hey everyone, it’s great to be here. (Pause) Sike! (Pause for laughter. Resume)
So I’m from a suburb of Chicago. Why are there so many suburbs? Does Chicago have diarrhea? (Pause for laughter. Take a sip of water to moisten your pallet. Resume)
So I was born in 1981. It’s better than being born in 2001. (Pause for laughter. If none, explain joke) You know, cause of 9/11 and everything. (Pause for laughter. If no laughter just move on cause it’s a dull crowd and the joke is way over their heads. Resume)
Has anyone ever noticed that peanut butter sticks to the roof of your mouth when you eat it? (Pause for big laughs. Crowds love observational humor. Resume)
But seriously. I noticed that there was a full moon out tonight. (Take out wolf mask and put it on) HOOOOWWWWWWWLLLL! (Run off stage and chase people around like you were a wolf. People laugh when they’re scared. Just like you did when Uncle Charles beat you with a tire iron. How could he do that to you? It was your first Christmas. Block out the painful memory. Come back on stage when laughter is at an all time high. Take a couple of deep breaths. Resume)
Have you ever noticed that your pen always runs out of ink when you need it most? (Pause for another big laugh. Make this your last observational joke. You don’t want to be known as an observation comic. You’re a shock comic that knows no boundaries. You’re fearless. Resume)
But seriously. Christmas is coming up. My great aunt asked me to give her a gift, so I got her a grave site. (Pause for laughs. Don’t think about how your great aunt has been gone for a while and you’ve always blamed yourself for her death. Hold in tears. Take a moment if you feel them coming. You miss her dearly and will never forgive yourself. It’s a painful memory, but you’re a shock comic. You’re fearless. Resume)
So, is anyone here from out of town? (Wait until someone says they are from Cuba. There’s always one) Cuba? Why don’t you put an ice Cuba in my glass of water. (Pause for roar of impressed laughter. People are shocked with your improv skills. Your family was wrong when they said you’d never make it as a comic. It was a good thing that you told them to go fuck themselves at Easter mass. You can finally stop feeling weird about that. Congrats. Resume)
Has anyone watched that Webster show? He doesn’t look anything like his parents. (Wait to see if anyone has an explanation for this. It always confused you. Maybe you should have watched the first episode… but I doubt it explained anything. Resume with the routine. If anyone has a problem with you asking a question with no punchline, it doesn’t matter. You’re a shock comic. You’re fearless. Resume)
Oh, I forgot to mention, tip your waitress. (Pause) Tip her over and throw her to the ground! (Pause for laughter. If people appear frightened, continue joke) Cause that bitch owe me some money! (Pause again for laughter. If still none, go for the hail mary) Because she’s my ho and I’m her pimp! (Laughter guaranteed here. Way to stay with the joke. Persistence is the name of the game. Enjoy the payoff. Resume)
So a couple of weeks ago I had to go the mechanic because my brake light went off. Why don’t they make the brakes out of the same material that they make the black boxes out of? (Pause. Did you tell that joke right? Don’t contemplate. No time. Resume)
I’ve noticed that vampires are the new big thing with teenagers. It’s too bad that I wasn’t a teenager now. I used to love drinking blood. (Pause for laughter. They have no idea you’re not kidding. Now go there) I still do actually! (Bravo. It’s funny to you cause it’s true, and it’s funny to them because it’s shocking and you went there. Check to see if anyone peed their pants from laughing so hard. If so, improvise) Save some of that pee for me! (You own this club. Look around to see if a crowd of people want to carry you off stage like they did at the end of Rudy. If so, end routine and retire from comedy at the top of your game. If not, resume)
Speaking of kids these days, what’s with the emo kids? What do they have to be so depressed about? It’s not like they have cancer. (Pause for giggles. Deliver) Unless they do have cancer. (Pause for loud laughter. The club should literally be shaking by now because people are jumping up and down. Improvise) Auntie Em, it’s a twister! (At this point the club should have collapsed and people will be stuck under the rubble, laughing and struggling for their lives. In the unlikely occasion that this doesn’t happen, give them one more zinger. Make it topical)
My time is about up here, but I have one more joke for you. Why did the chicken cross the road? (Pause while audience says things like “why?” “here it comes!” and “fasten your seatbelts! this is going to be good!” Resume) Because the economy was better on the other side! Thank you and good night! (This is the best moment of your life. Enjoy it. Walk off stage and sign autographs. Now call all your ex girlfriends and inform them how they’ve destroyed you. Then brag about your current success and hang up on them. Before hanging up make sure none of them want to get back together. If they do, accept their offer. You’re lonely. But don’t let them know that. Play hard to get. But not too hard. In fact, don’t play hard to get. Go back to them as soon as they offer. You’re lonely)
By Sean Patrick
I love Thanksgiving dinner. Even though I don’t think the food is as amazing as others do, I very much enjoy sitting down for dinner with family and friends on this special holiday. But if for some reason I was unable to spend Thanksgiving dinner with the people I’m closest to, these are the groups I would want to break bread with.
CHARLES MANSON 
AND
THE BEACH BOYS
One word: Awkward! Because the Beach Boys passed on including Manson in their band, he went bananas and had people murdered. I can’t think of a more opposite career path. I’m sure none of the Beach Boys would have the courage to bring anything up about it, but after a couple glasses of wine I’d feel obligated to to approach the subject. “So Beach Boys, what about Charles Manson didn’t you like? Cause personally, I think the guy would have been a great fit.”
The First Thanksgiving
I’m not a big historical buff, but I would have loved to be around for this event. After a couple of glasses of whatever they got drunk on back then, I’d go over to a group of Indians and say, “I’m not too sure you want to be eating with these guys.” Then I’d whip out a present day history book and inform them of their dire future. Because of my skin color they may suspect me of being associated with the white devils. But as soon as I informed them that I am a University of Illinois Fighting Illini alumni, they would surely take me in as one of their own and we would change the history of this country together.
Michael Jackson Age 9
And
Michael Jackson Age 46
Surprise! What a shocking look into the future for little Michael. As a nine year old, he would be convinced that in the new millennium everyone turns female. If the conversation at the table went dull, I would ask older Michael to tell little Michael all about his recent convictions. The shocking information would have little Michael running into the arms of Joe Jackson faster than you can say “ma ma se ma ma sa.”
The Tiger Woods Family
A week ago I wouldn’t have thought this would be a particularly interesting Thanksgiving to attend, but after recent disclosures I’m convinced that this was probably the most interesting Thanksgiving in the history of our country.
John and Mackenzie Phillips
Thanksgiving is a day to be with the ones you love, and I can’t think of a father daughter combo that expressed their love as passionately as they did. My favorite part of the meal would be when I was drunk and asked, “I drank too much, so please feel free to let me know if I’m crossing the line… but am I sensing some sexual tension between the two of you?”
