So… tomorrow, Wednesday at 11AM ET I’m doing CNET’s 404 podcast which streams live and which you can download (the audio portion) after the fact. Was that even a sentence? I don’t know I just know that my buddyroo Natali Del Conte suggested I do this and she says jump, I say, “How high?” Mostly so that then I can twitter about it and drop her name. Did I mention I know Natali Del Conte? Because I do.

The thing is that The 404 covers all sorts of stuff like pop culture and, um, other stuff and I’ve had my head so far up my butt working on this Top Secret Project Which May Be The Manhattan Project Who Knows, I hardly even knew that Christian Bale freaked out when he caught Michael Phelps smoking Ashton Kutcher’s pot. You know?

So that’s tomorrow at 11AM ET and you can watch it here then (click on the 404). But I repeat, it’s an audio thing that just happens to be streamed live (I think). It’s not a show so don’t expect me to be wearing clothes.

Obviously I’m kidding. What I mean to say is that maybe I’ll shower, maybe I won’t. I can’t rightly say right now.

BUT WAIT, I have a special treat the following day, which is THURSDAY, for all my fans in St. Louis. Do I have any fans in St. Louis? I will wait for them to make some noise.

Oh for fuck’s sake, I don’t have all day. Toddrod, I’m sorry about the language.

I’ll be on 550 KTRS’s The Large Morning Show in the Afternoon around 5pm ET on Thursday. That’s 4pm CT. I could go on with the time zones, but I won’t. You can listen to this awesomeness online apparently although I tried earlier and it didn’t work. You best believe me I let those Missourians know what I thought about that. I cracked open a can of Christian Bale on their ass.

When it comes to social interactions I prefer to have them with a mic in my hand or a camera in my face. Tonight I mixed with people unknown to me without all that though. Just me, my bongos and a bottle of Wild Turkey. Minus the bongos and Wild Turkey.

I went to a party with Red Eye pal John Roy where I met a guy (funny comedian Pete Holmes) who draws actual cartoons for the New Yorker. I got all excited and tried to explain that I draw fake cartoons for the New Yorker but I don’t draw them, I just think them up, and I never send them in because it’s not about that. I think he was suitably impressed. Then I mentioned that some of my fans have actually drawn them but what I really meant to say was, “Did I mention I have fans?”

And then I had a horribly awkward exchange with a woman by the crudite, but it’s late and I’m too tired to write it out. Perhaps tomorrow, my dears. It involves slippery bell peppers and tongs.

I updated that junk on the right side of this here page to reflect tomorrow’s radio interview on Devore and Diana and the stand up which I’ve been talking about so much it’s like, lady, shut up already. You know?

Also, I bought some green beans today at the store because the quirky and whimsical placard said “Give your sous chef the night off,” with these pre-cleaned and trimmed and ready-to-eat beans. I don’t even have a sous chef but if I did he’d be named Henri and I’d never give him the day off because he’s a slacker and I’m thinking of firing him anyway. These water spots on my silver? Unacceptable, Henri! And is that a chip in my fine bone china which was made from ground down parakeet bones and purchased in China when I was sent overseas as part of a military gravy boat buying mission? The Audubon Society never let me hear the end of it.

as part of New York’s Funniest Reporter contest which is part of the NY Underground Comedy Festival in October. I’m performing on October 5 at Gotham Comedy Club. I tried part of my act for my dad yesterday and let me just say that I killed. Meaning I think I nearly killed him, that’s how unfunny I was. So, that’s great. I feel good about that. At least I have some time to work on better material.

Anyway, here’s a page trumpeting my awesomeness and I didn’t even put it together myself. Truly.

What will you do when the phone rings at 3am? You will let it go to voicemail because you’re watching me on Red Eye. Duh!

Now, I couldn’t help but notice the beginnings of some potential bickering in the comments. Let there be no bickering! It’s very un-Alison-Rosen! It’s against the very spirit of that which brings us all together: ME. Can’t we all just love me and celebrate me? Together? Let’s not let our petty differences distract us from the true meaning of this blog.

Someone reached this blog by searching “how old is your underwear.” I don’t normally post about the search terms people are clicking on to get here since they’re all some combination of “alison rosen” and “hot,” however… okay fine, that’s a slight exaggeration. Sometimes they are “alison rosen” and “nude.” Once they were “alison rosen” and “rutabaga.” Also, once they were “alison rosen” and “pregnant” which gave me quite a scare, but then I remembered that there’s a famous fertility doctor who shares my name. Maybe people are wanting to see her hot and nude? And then sometimes people want to read about puppies or getting their wisdom teeth out without general anasthesia, which I do and don’t recommend.

But back to the underwear. Mine are a few hours old, thank you very much. I mean, probably they were born in a sweatshop in Vietnam ages ago, but to me they are a few hours old.

Also, tonight I am on Red Eye with Greg Proops, whom I interviewed about nine years ago when he was hosting this shortlived game show called VS. I interviewed him for the “Random Notes” section of Rolling Stone because Jani Lane of Warrant was on the show as was Terri Nunn of Berlin. The show used to pit something against something and I think it was hair bands vs… I forget. But sort of like Lewis Black’s Root of All Evil. But a game show. Anyway, I thought he was funny then and I think he’s funny now. I want to tell him about how I actually met him years ago however he’ll be on remote and I’ll be in the studio and I bet I won’t have time. Sort of like how if he and I were in a production of H.M.S. Pinafore and we were in a bunch of scenes together it might appear that we interacted but really we might not get a chance to catch up because we’d be too busy, um, battening hatches and singing. Granted there would be rehearsals, but this isn’t like that. It’s more like a spontaneous Gilbert & Sullivan musical without the singing. So I guess what I’m trying to say is Greg Proops, if you happen to read this, perhaps by searching your name or “Alison Rosen” and “H.M.S. Pinafore,” I totally met you once a billion years ago.

The best way to wake up in Idaho is to a crossword puzzle that someone made about you that’s posted on The Activity Pit! (Does that make it sound like I really love myself? Probably!) Anyway, here it is. Spaceagent, I am impressed with your crafty know-how. And you derring-do. Not really about your derring-do. I’ve just never used those words and now seemed like a good time.

An Alison Crossword Puzzle!

What could be more fun that a crossword puzzle based on our favorite Red Eye guest? If you’re a faithful reader of Alison’s blog, you should be able to get most of the answers pretty quickly. If you’re having trouble, you’d better go to her blog and start reading!!

I’ve left a few letters in the puzzle to make it a little bit easier. Enjoy!

Reblogged from The Activity Pit:

Alison’s Beauty Secrets

Whatever the occasion, Alison always manages to look her best despite living a busy cosmopolitan lifestyle. How does she do it? Blessed with natural beauty, are there other steps she takes to enhance her appearance?

Below is an analysis revealing Alison’s beauty secrets.

Look, Spaceagent, if that’s your real fake name, I suffered 4 years of braces and the best you can say is that I have “normal” jaw occlusion? You WISH you occluded so well.

(I’m kidding. I’m flattered that you think I have no open sores.)

Because I post my chats with Wendy over here, by default, all other chats go here:

me:I can’t lie to my public. I’m like Eva Peron Andy: in many ways.