Tag Archives: The Doubleclicks

MYSELF: Obsessed Ep 74

A special, weird episode featuring host Joseph Scrimshaw discussing his obsession with himself! Featuring guest host Hal Lublin! Thrill to such topics as Benedict Cumberbatch, small dogs, feminism, the best episodes of Doctor Who for cats, spending student loans on action figures, the phrase “dark wiggle room,” and much more. Special thanks to Patreon backers for unlocking this episode as a milestone goal!

Thanks as always to Molly Lewis for our theme song!

AWOOGA! Obsessed is now a part of Feral Audio! Go to Feral now to listen to this episode and subscribe for new ones!

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TUMBLR and the HOLY TRINITY: Obsessed Ep 55

Singer, songwriter, producer, and all around amazing person Angela Webber of The Doubleclicks has a dual obsession with Tumblr and The Holy Trinity of YouTube–Grace Helbig, Hannah Hart, and Mamrie Hart! Discover how the world would be different without animated gifs, how to ship human beings, and the power of positive drinking! Plus, Angela gives Joseph a great new tagline to advertise his Patreon!

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JoCoCruiseCrazy: Obsessed Ep 49

Joseph and his martinis decided to do some fast dirty interviews onboard Jonathan Coulton’sfourth annual music-comedy-nerd cruise. A plethora of cruise-goers including Grant Imahara, John Scalzi, The Doubleclicks, and more answer questions about the cruise, community, alcohol, Angry Clown Island, Beyonce, Lord of the Flies, and more. PLUS: A very special version of the Obsessed theme song by Molly Lewis.

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A FUN THING FOR HUMANS TO DO

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I once again sailed on JoCoCruiseCrazy and I once again had a great time performing as well as doing other human things that I would normally do on land but instead doing them on a boat.

If, like my mother, your first reaction is “What’s a JoCo and why are people cruising on it?” here are the basics: Jonathan Coulton is a talented, kind, funny human who sings songs. For the last four years, he’s gathered other talented, kind, funny humans to sing songs and tell jokes on a cruise ship. You should go next year.

This year, the cruise was on a ship that I believe was designed by aliens. More on that later.

Here’s some cool stuff about the Jonathan Coulton part of the cruise:

The attendees call themselves Sea Monkeys. After four years, the Sea Monkeys have formed a community that exists on the sea, the land, the internet, and sometimes even the air if you go parasailing during the cruise.

For example, a nice Sea Monkey named Laura dressed her stuffed monkey up as Batman and then gave it a taco just for me. Things like this constitute fairly normal interactions on the cruise.

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The Sea Monkeys are also a great audience. I had over a million metric tons of fun performing in the ship’s Goth Club in the middle of a Monday afternoon. The club had a strange, sexy Beefeater theme so this statue was my co-star.

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Paul F. Tompkins  kindly performed the controversial piece Cats Versus Dinosaurs  with me and Molly Lewis  was my co-host for my nerd-friendly sport Competitive Hugging. The Sea Monkey volunteers came, they saw, they hugged the shit out of each other.

I also played a role in the boat edition of Thrilling Adventure Hour. Peter Sagal and I portrayed angry people from the Midwest. It was easy to get into character.

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And I served as communications officer for “Drunk Celebrity Artemis” in which Grant Imahara flew our spaceship backwards through asteroids. This was not an actual command given by our Captain, Angela Webber of The Doubleclicks, but it was very entertaining.

All that said, the actual cruise part of the cruise seemed even stranger to me than normal.

Cruises are meant to evoke elegance and luxury, but with the glut of cruise problems in the last year there’s also the mental image of being lost at sea, defecating in a bag, while rats infested with the norovirus stare at you in judgment until you wash up on the island from Lord of the Flies.

Perhaps because of these thoughts I was more aware of the cruise ship as a floating contradiction. I spent a few extra minutes on my balcony staring at the endless sea and the vast sky–realties of the physical world that remind you of your tiny insignificant nature and the absurdity of our civilization. All of that just a few feet away from an angry lady from Iowa screaming BINGO and spilling a little bit of her strawberry-mocha margarita out of the commemorative plastic cup that is ringed with chunks of salt and small edible conflict diamonds.

Adding to the contradiction pile, our ship was called the Independence of the Seas and I for one felt INCREDIBLY INDEPENDENT as other humans cleaned my room and made me martinis.

There were many things about the Independence of the Seas that were almost right, but not really, leading me to the inevitable conclusion that this particular cruise ship was designed by aliens with only a loose grasp of human culture.

Each level of the elegant three story main dining room was named after a Shakespeare play. In particular, a Shakespearean tragedy. This led to a delightful moment of hearing a man with a heavy southern drawl loudly and repeatedly asking a steward, “Where is Macbeth? Where’s Macbeth? I can’t find Macbeth!”

Dining rooms named after Shakespearean tragedies is the set-up to a choose-your-own-punchline-adventure joke. Turn to page 57 for “at least they didn’t choose The Tempest.” Turn to page 163 for “I hope the dining room isn’t named after Titus Andronicus.” Turn to page 269 for “WHY DON’T THEY JUST CALL THE SHIP THE TITANIC?”

The ship was also lousy with challenging art. I don’t mean challenging as in thought provoking, I mean most of the artwork was so aggressively weird I felt like it was actually challenging me to a fistfight.

There was the picture of a deer looking at its own mounted head.

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There was an elegant print you could buy of a famous human named Jack Nicholson farting.

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There was a photograph that I believe was called “Buff-Man in the Shadows” or “Child of Light with Huge Pecs” or “Terrifying Live-Action Family Circus.”

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There was an illustration of spaceships from Star Wars sinking naval ships.

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Here you can truly see the aliens trying. They know a lot of humans like Star Wars so, hey, why not some pictures from Star Wars? How about some ships? How about two of the most obscure ships only seen in Return of the Jedi? Yes, that sounds good. We’ll have a picture of TIE-interceptors and A-Wings. What should they be doing? How about destroying something? Sounds good, but let’s make it relatable. What if they were sinking other ships?

YES! The spaceships should be sinking naval ships–VERY MUCH LIKE THE ONE THE HUMANS ARE FLOATING ON RIGHT NOW! I think the humans would enjoy that! Alien high-five! Or high-seven depending on their anatomy!

The ship also had a promenade or mall in the center as if commerce itself could keep us afloat. One of the storefronts was a pizza place called Sorrento’s which I choose to believe is Italian for “Sorry, humans.”

Many of us went there to get late night pizza. The pizza was available all day, but this pizza is like a great jazz club, a vampire, or texting your ex. It belongs to the night.

The pizza is not good. It’s also not bad. It’s almost pizza but not quite. It’s like eating the Uncanny Valley.

I could go on and on about the strange cruise.

I could tell you the aliens also chose a ridiculous name for our toilet paper.

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Heavenly Choice. So much wrong packed into just two words. The act is almost as completely opposite of heavenly as you can get and, hopefully, there’s not a lot of choice involved. It’s not shopping for a new car, it’s basic cleanliness. Come on, aliens.

I could also tell you how the aliens took a part of Haiti and renamed it Labadee and then used it to exactly recreate an island from the Nintendo Gamecube era video game Super Mario Sunshine.

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Seriously, try saying LABADEE in Mario’s voice and it all comes together.

The point is my whole time on the ship I was overwhelmed by this idea, this sensation of aliens struggling to make sense of normal human culture.

By the last day I realized I was enjoying the cruise even more because of that. Normal human culture is weird. Normal human culture on a cruise ship is weirder STILL.

But everything makes more sense when you’re inside it.

It’s only when you pull back and look at it from a distance that you can see the absurdity and often the joy of how not normal what you’re doing is.

On the last day of the cruise, I thought I was in a room with a bunch of awesome people listening to my friend Molly Lewis sing some songs.

Then I let myself drift back and see it from the outside. I was standing in a fake goth club on a cruise ship listening to Molly sing a song about a detachable, flying vagina with a man dressed as Super Mario.

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And it was great.

So thanks to Jonathan, the Sea Monkeys, the skies, the seas, the aliens, the night pizza, and all the weirdness in our vast universe for another fun week on a boat.

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The Riddler Has Nothing To Prove

I’ve recently returned from the 2013 San Diego Comic-Con–a swarming, heaving mass of geeky humanity.

During the convention, I got to spend time with a lot of pals including Angela and Aubrey Webber a.k.a The Doubleclicks. They are, of course, charming and talented and smart and good at all of the instruments ever. I’ve been lucky to tour with them a bit, they’re writing a song for my upcoming comedy and music album Flaw Fest, they appear on one of my favorite episodes of Obsessed, and they’re good friends.

During w00tstock, they premiered the video for their song “Nothing to Prove.” It’s a response to the rabid fear of the so-called Fake Geek Girl. (If you have no idea what a Fake Geek Girl is, here’s a thing I wrote on tumblr trying to explain the concept to a theater person.)

The video was co-conceived by another pal–the talented screenwriter and raconteur Josh Cagan. It features testimonials from geek girls and a few geek guys (some assholes named Wheaton, Savage, Scrimshaw, etc.) about the strange trend in some pockets of geek culture toward exclusion.

Here’s the video:

I thought a lot about geek culture during Comic-Con this year. One of the most obvious expressions of geekdom is cosplay. Dressing up as a character you like, or in many cases, just a character you find aesthetically pleasing.

I love watching cosplay. For the joy of those in costume and those who are thrilled when they see their favorite character walk by. But I’m also fascinated with the mash-up between the fantasy of the character and the reality of being a human at a convention.

I posted on Twitter and Facebook that all I wanted out of the convention was seeing one guy dressed as Batman eating a taco. I even followed a couple of Batmen, but they walked right past the taco stands.

I got a close second, though. In the middle of a business meeting, the Joker sat down next to me and ate a hot dog. He didn’t even eat it. He devoured it in two bites. I saw the Joker deep throat a hot dog. (When I posted about this on Twitter, it autocorrected to “derp throat” which would be a great geeky porn parody.)

I saw a guy in a really great Green Lantern costume standing against the wall on the crowded convention floor, charging his iPhone. It was sad and funny to see Green Lantern having to use a common power outlet to charge his phone instead of using his ring.

I saw several men dressed as Slave Leia.

Another friend saw all of the Avengers. But the Avengers were also dressed as Slave Leia.

Comic-Con runs shuttles from all the hotels to the convention center. The shuttle is a great place to watch superheroes confront the limits of the physical world. A guy in a great Iron Man costume got on the bus, lifted his helmet, and said, “Oh, man. I forgot I can’t sit down.” It was a double-decker bus so someone said, “Why don’t you go upstairs? There’s more room up there.” Iron Man’s friend said, “Bad idea. He doesn’t do stairs well.” So Iron Man just sort of squatted in the area normally reserved for wheelchairs while happily telling people how he made his awesome costume.

But my favorite overheard conversation was from a dude dressed as the Batman villain, the Riddler. He sat down next to me on the shuttle and started chatting with Cyborg and Green Arrow. He said he didn’t really read Batman comics or watch Batman movies. He just liked the costume. I laughed to myself. Then he said, “I picked this costume to match my friends. And I like green. But I didn’t want to be a DC character, I wanted to be Bane.”

I was unable to stop myself from leaning over to my wife and whispering, “Bane IS a DC character.” My wife hadn’t been listening to the Riddler’s conversation so she thought I was having a sudden attack of aphasia.

I whispered, “It’s funny because this guy dressed as the Riddler is a Fake Geek Guy.”

The Riddler was what all these judgmental dudes are so afraid of from women. That people will just appropriate geek knowledge and credentials. That they’ll wear the mask of the Riddler on their face but not in their hearts. And this will somehow rip a hole in the very fabric of the geek continuum.

I continued to listen to the Riddler. The topic changed from costumes to something very close to Riddler’s heart: tax laws as they relate to the legalization of marijuana.

The Riddler had a lot to say on this topic. Turns out, he was a huge geek. What he lacked in knowledge or passion in Batman’s rogue’s gallery, he more than made up for in pedantic pot tax lore.

He was absolutely not a fake geek. He was just a guy having fun wearing a costume with friends. Next year, I hope he fully embraces his inner geekdom and dresses up as Captain Pot Tax Laws.

It’s been said many times (and particularly effectively in The Doubleclick’s song and video) but one of the strengths of the geek community at this point is its spirit of inclusion.

There is too much “geek content” for geekdom to be based solely on your knowledge. No one recognizes every costume at an event as large as Comic-Con. What we recognize is the passion. And what makes the event positive is the moments of feeling like a part of a community no matter how odd or obscure your passion is.

My passion at Comic-Con this year was to see someone dressed as Batman eat a taco.

And a community rose up to support me. On Saturday afternoon many people tweeted at me, saying they had spotted a Batman in the vicinity of a taco stand. @SemiEvolved on Twitter then sent me this photo.

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And it was good. Thanks, @SemiEvolved! This particular Batman was found at my pal Marian Call’s ninja gig behind the Convention Center. So he has good taste in tacos and music.

But since I’m a geek and I want to collect them all, I will be on the hunt for a sighting of Batman eating a taco with his cowl up.

That’s all you need to be a geek: follow your passion. Follow them down a street and take pictures of them eating tacos.

Next year, Comic-Con, next year.

If you enjoy my work, you can sign up for my fan list here and make more comedy possible by buying a book, a comedy album, or a script here.

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Hermione Granger and The Sorority Girl of Anger

Recently, I did a show with my friends and uber-talented musicians The Doubleclicks. We were looking for ways to collaborate. I love writing genre parody pieces for pals to perform such as this one with Bill Corbett and Kevin Murphy. I asked the ladies if they had any ideas. Angela said she had always wanted to play Hermione Granger of Harry Potter fame. I had always wanted to hear Hermione use more offensive swear words. I realized that Hermione had it in her to be as righteously pissed off as the Angry Sorority Girl. Enjoy the text and a link to Angela’s performance below, you stupid ass-sorting hats.

If you just opened this like I told you to, sit down in a chair and cast Petrificus Totalus on yourself, because this howler is going to be a rough fucking ride.

For those of you that have your heads stuck up your robes, which apparently is the majority of Gryffindor, we have been FUCKING UP in terms of nighttime events and general social interactions with Hufflepuff.

If you’re reading this right now and saying to yourself “But oh em gee Hermione, I’ve been having so much fun with Neville Longbottom this week!” then hex yourself in the face right now so that I don’t have to fucking find you in the common room and do it myself.

I do not give a flying fuck, and Hufflepuff does not give a flying fuck, about how much you fucking love to talk to Neville.

Flying Fuck, by the way, is a really fun spell that I invented.

Anyway, you have 361 days out of the fucking year to talk to Neville Longbottom, and this week is NOT, I fucking repeat NOT ONE OF THEM.

Yes, I know I said 361 days out of the year. I know that a week is seven days long. I know the math doesn’t work out. I have a time turner, bitches!

This week is about fostering relationships with those boring losers from Hufflepuff, and that’s not fucking possible if you’re going to stand around and talk to Neville about gillyweed.

Newsflash you stupid cocks: HUFFLEPUFFS DON’T LIKE IT WHEN SOMEONE IS MORE BORING THAN THEM. HUFFLEPUFF IS NOT GOING TO WANT TO HANG OUT WITH US IF WE FUCKING SUCK.

This also applies to you little shits that have talked openly about Quidditch being boring. Are you people brain dead like Neville’s parents after they were tortured with the Cruciatus Curse by Bellatrix Lestrange?

Of FUCKING course, Quidditch is boring. We get all dressed up and go out to the stands and then some FUCKING CHOSEN ONE PRAT catches the golden snitch in the first thirty seconds and it’s all FUCKING over!

But Hermione, you say in a whiny little bitch voice, “I’ve been cheering on Gryffindor, doesn’t that count for something?”

NO YOU STUPID FUCKING ASS SORTING HATS, IT FUCKING DOESN’T.

I’ve not only gotten messages about people being fucking WEIRD at Quidditch (for example, being stupid shits and saying stuff like “durr what’s the TRI-WIZARD TOURNAMENT?” is not fucking funny), but I’ve gotten messages about people actually cheering for the opposing team.

The opposing. Fucking. Team.

I don’t give a SHIT about sportsmanship, YOU CHEER FOR GRYFFINDOR NO MATTER WHAT STUPID SHIT HAPPENS TO HARRY POTTER!

AND YOU ABSOLUTELY DO NOT INTERVENE!

NOT EVEN TEACHERS INTERVENE WHEN CLEARLY DANGEROUS SHIT IS HAPPENING, YOU STUPID FUCKING FUCKS!

I swear I will fucking cast cuntius puntius on the next person I hear about doing something like that.

“Ohhh, I’m now crying because your howler has made me oh so so sad! I’m pulling my tears out and putting them in a pensieve so I never fucking forget. “

Well, good.

If this howler applies to you in any way, meaning if you are a Longbottom loving little asswipe that stands in the corners at night looking at Filch’s fucking cat or if you’re a weird shit that does weird shit during the day, this following message is for you: APPARATE YOUR ASS AWAY FROM TONIGHT’S EVENT.

I’m not fucking kidding. Seriously, if you have done ANYTHING I’ve mentioned in this email and you’re suffering from some rare curse like Smartus Oppositus where you’re unable to NOT do these things, then you are HORRIBLE, I repeat, HORRIBLE FOR GRYFFINDOR!

YOU’RE LOSING US LIKE FIFTY FUCKING POINTS A DAY. AND WE WILL NOT WIN THE HOUSE CUP THAT WAY, YOU MAGICALLY STUPID FUCKS.

I would rather have six or seven Gryffindors who are actually relevant to the fucking NARRATIVE, than a bunch of lame Dean Thomases and Seamus Finnegans being awkward.

Seriously. I swear to fucking Godric Gryffindor if I see anyone being a goddamn boner at tonight’s event, I will cast a spell that turns you into an actual walking talking boner. I’m not even kidding. Try me.

And for those of you who are offended at this howler, I understand. Now that I’m getting to the end, I see I’m really just projecting my own feelings on to you. I’m upset with Ron Weasley. And I’m taking it out on you. It’s very hard being the most intelligent person in the room. All the time. I always know the right answer and most of you are really dumb.

Like really fucking dumb.

Like every year, there’s a big mystery going on at the school. Like with monsters and evil wizards and shit and you don’t even FUCKING notice. Wake up, SHEEPLE!

In conclusion, I apologize and take back the majority of what I said.

And if you don’t like that you can go fuck yourself.

*letter explodes*

Angela’s enchanting performance at Nerd Night Out in Portland, Oregon.

If you enjoy my work, you can sign up for my fan list here and make more comedy possible by buying a book, a comedy album, or a script here.

 

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MOLLY LEWIS and DOUBLECLICKS SMACKDOWN: Obsessed Ep 14

Molly Lewis and The Doubleclicks take a brief break from their Ladies of Ragnarok tour to compete in an obsessive smackdown! Who is the most obsessed? Molly with Star Tours? Angela with Portland City Planning? Aubrey with audio equipment? Or random audience volunteer (and Molly’s boyfriend) Ben with fine menswear? Plus, awkward questions about intimacy!

AWOOGA! Obsessed is now a part of Feral Audio! Go to Feral now to listen to this episode and subscribe for new ones!

Listen, rate, review, and subscribe to OBSESSED on iTunes.

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On being a Lady (of Ragnarok)

I was thrilled to be a special guest performer and honorary lady on the Ladies of Ragnarok tour. The titular ladies are singer/songwriters Molly Lewis, The Doubleclicks, and tour manager Dammit Liz.

I joined the ladies for shows in Chicago, Minneapolis, and Madison. What follows is a behind-the-scenes peek at the insanity.

When I met up with the ladies, the first thing they did was buy some uppers on the streets of Chicago.

Then we went for a ride in their van. They had a lot of duct tape in the back. It was like they wanted to kidnap people, but keep it lighthearted and fun.

They took me to visit a giant reflective statue that is meant to symbolize successful grant applications and tourism. It also looks like a giant space guy dropped his space burrito.

The function of the space burrito seems to be primarily photo taking. It emits a hypnotic suggestion convincing humans to take awkward bathroom mirror MySpace photos with half of Chicago in the background. I have no memory of taking this photo.

Then we met up with Bill Corbett and did a fun show. I told jokes about Star Wars, condoms, and poetry. I sold copies of my book Comedy of Doom. A man dressed as a pirate paid me with fifteen shiny dollar coins. He said nice things as well as “aaarr.”


Later, in my hotel room, I was disturbed by the CLEAN REMOTE. I couldn’t sleep because I was wondering how many businessmen had ordered dirty adult films using the clean remote.

We went to Minneapolis and did a show. I told jokes about James Bond, haunted smartphones, and mortality. We were joined by Kevin Murphy and a Velociraptor. (Kevin Murphy not pictured.)

Then, the ladies were guests on my podcast OBSESSED which will be out in a few weeks. After that we went to Madison and did a show with Dr.Noise. I told jokes about superheroes and bears and chatted with the audience about tacos. The show was held in a gaming room attached to a game store. The store had very severe rules.

We obeyed the rules and everyone was happy. There was also a man named Benjamin on the tour who had the job of dealing with all of the Velociraptor’s needs.

The photos above represent some of the finest photos I have ever taken. Like I’m probably going to take that big frame off the wall and swap out my wedding photos for these.

Thanks to the Ladies of Ragnarok for the fun shows, fun times, and, of course, the Velociraptor photo opportunities.

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