Joe Rogan and brandy alexanders

OK. I'm sorry. This blog was supposed to be sexy, and dating and NOW. Here, now - in Hollywood. And, instead, I get bogged down in the past - and CLEARLY I'm not ready to write about it anyway!
SO...tonight.....a rock band just left my house. With all the noisy turmoil that one would associate with a rock band. One hour ago, my house was filed with song. Literally. Three young gods were singing vocal excersizes all over the house in the same key - and to someone listening in a room removed, it sounded like it was all composed - as if for a film. Punctuated with laughter and things banging every once in awhile - (perhaps gear being packed?) - and the thing is - who could ask for anything MORE fun than that? REALLY.
It is my son, Max's, band. I guess I can't really call them a rock band. They are an evolution. They are morphed and evolved into something different. The press has called them "Electro-indie-Hop". And they even have a song thusly titled. It is maybe my favorite of their songs, because it is HIGHLY danceable. It's one of those songs that BEGS you to dance. Insists upon it.
Anyway, they are now gone - off to a show at the Key Club on the Sunset strip. I wonder sometimes if they even realize how coveted a gig like this is to other fledgeling bands around the country. They are at that point where they take it for granted. Maybe that's good, or maybe it's really bad. I'm not sure. I feel like I was taking a lot of things for granted at their age. And it wasn't good.

Flash back to my Joe Rogan story. Which I am reminded of because I saw him recently at my friend's awesome event called 'Comedy is Dead' - a stand-up comedy event at the Masonic Lodge at Forever Hollywood cemetery. Jay (my friend) does all these AMAZING things at this cemetery space close to my house. Including a stand-up night that has gotten better and better....it is one of the best kept "secrets" in town! And I have been going since the first one.
Well, right before Thanksgiving, I was planning to go - happened to look at the line-up (I never do - always know it will be stellar) and saw, to my surprise, Joe Rogan on the line up. I laughed out LOUD sitting at my computer screen - happy to remember one of the very best hollywood stories I have ever lived through. Sue me if you will, Joe. It happened.

Shortly after my third child was born, I found myself with a heroin addict for a husband/father and had to pay the bills after he moved out. Luckily I was still in the game and auditioning all the time. I reference the month of september, many moons ago. I was breast feeding my darling little Sophie, and therefore had a "killer" body. Slim, curvy, with big (temporary) breasts. And I got this job on a pilot called 'Hardball'. The name makes me laugh as I write it. But it was real. And my role was that of "Snow-cone", the role of Joe Rogan's ditzy, hot girl interest. To my credit, the producers liked me enough to write me in for couple more episodes and give me a real name - but that's not important. Or fun.
The fun part is that Joe was newly into town, and this was his BIG debut. His whole family came out for the taping of the pilot, and I met a bunch of them. Not because we were dating - we barely knew each other - but just because he decided to introduce me.
Now...for those of you reading this who have not been on a sitcom set - I'll fill you in. This was filmed on the same lot as 'Seinfeld'. Great lot. Up in Studio City. And on a live sitcom set there are often these "quick-change" little temporary booths if you will, set up all over the stage, that look like little tents, depending on the amount of quick changes that have to be done in the course of the live taping. It's much like a theatre gig. Quick changes off-stage - only in theatre, you often have to get down to your skivies, or down to nothing, in front of fellow actors, because there just isn't time or space....in TV land - people are afraid of getting sued, so there is always a tiny little changing tent.
On taping day - or rather evening - the cast and crew of 'Hardball' was in a PICKLE. The air conditioning wasn't working, and our audience was leaving in droves. The producers offered free pizza, and co-ersed people off the street to come in and sit through this baseball comedy being directed by a sitcom dinasour/legend. I could have sued this legend if I'd been more savvy. He kept referring to me as "tits" and saying horribly masochistic/sexist things to me. Instead, I grinned and bore it. I NEEDED the dough. I was suddenly the single mother of THREE. COUNT 'EM....THREE. One still breast feeding, which, I was sure, was why I got the job.
So, we're all running around sweating during the live taping....no AC, and a whole cast of BASEBALL players and ME. I was the second of only TWO ladies cast in this thing - the second is Alexandra Wentworth. Very mean to me. Did not like her. Look her up, imagine 25 guys in the cast + her and I, and see what I'm talking about.
Joe was ,well, showing interest in me during rehearsal. I think. It was confusing, because - he told me a whole lot about himself, how he got there, his girlfriend, or X-girlfriend or whatever she was - and his family coming out - but expressed NO interest in my info whatsoever. I assumed he DID NOT know I was a mother, for instance, or any thing else relevant about me. In fact, it was inceredibly confusing - dealing with him. He talked a mile minute. Which could be just New York, or could be the sign of a major coke-head.
THe taping went as well as it could, considering. The poor make-up people were running around trying to powder down the actors as fast as they could. No AC on this set was a DISASTER, September in LA might as well be August. And I had a couple of changes, as did Joe.
So, as i was running around the set to my next change/entrance, a hand reaches out of one of these little tents and grabs me.
"Jennifer", I hear, in a recognizable New York accent.
I am pulled into Joe's changing tent. During the live taping. Cameras rolling. Audience sweating in their seats.
And there he is.
Joe Rogan. Who no-one very MUCH knows at this point in his career. Pretty fresh and young. And.....HUNG.
THERE HE IS. Completely naked. Grabbing my wrist and looking very proud of himself - which, in hindsight, I guess he had every right to do.
He had a rock hard body. Absolutely. Just PERFECT....no-one in their right mind could utter a critisism of that body. AND....he had a rock hard hard-on. I will tell you right here and now in this blog that Joe Rogan has a giant and well functioning cock. Dick. Penis. What have you. There is no argument. His wife is a lucky lady.
It WAS an odd move, though. At least in my book. I mean, in retrospect, I wish more guys had the (pardon the pun) balls to do what he did. At least I knew everything was working and that I would have been dealing with TOP merchandise had I taken him up on what SEEMED like an offer....
I didn't know what to do or how to react. I was racing to a quick-change, too, after all....and I didn't fancy him. He felt too brash, too ego-centric for my taste. And in the face of this EXTRAORDINARY "offer"....I just laughed. I laughed.
Joe Rogan - if you ever read this (I doubt you will) - you are something else! What a great body you had. ALL of it. I mean, it was like a statue of an African God or something. I will never forget your rock hard body or your crazy big erect penis staring me down. And I'm sorry that I laughed. Your giant balls - both figurative and literal - have earned my respect. No WONDER you went on to host 'Fear Factor'!!! YOU were the perfect man for the job!!!
And though we never dated - I sort of wished we had. You might have spared me from a fate worse than .....well, worse than the biggest dick I've ever seen, anyway.
Thank you, Joe Rogan. Thank you for the compliment, and thank you for the story.