One more show! Rob and I are performing our awesome hour-long comedy show, Reviving the Lecture Circuit, tonight in Philadelphia. Here is a little review of the show from the Philadelphia City Paper: "Meg and Rob portray caricatures of various celebrity archetypes, including politicians, lifestyle coaches, and television personalities, with relatable and hilarious execution."

Reviving the Lecture Circuit TONIGHT Shubin Theater 407 Bainbridge Philadelphia 8 p.m. $5

Rob and I are performing tonight at Bedtime Stories at the Shubin Theater, 407 Bainbridge. 8 p.m., $5. BYOB

For about a week last year I was really into the idea of making a reality show called "Dad House." It would consist of a bunch of dads watching TV together, puttering in the basement workshop, and constantly taking out the trash. Even when the producers would try to create drama through clever editing, the show would be hilariously boring and awkward.

My friend Nat latched onto the idea of a house full of fathers as well. Behold: dadhouse.org.

Most of us recognize that what we're taught in elementary school about the first Thanksgiving – the friendly sharing of food, the incredible bounty, the making of paper hats – is not what really happened. However, most people don't know what did happen either. With the holiday tomorrow, I thought I'd lay out the story as I know it, so we can understand what we're really thankful for.

When the pilgrims landed in Massachusetts in 1620, weary and sick from their long journey across the Atlantic, they were met by a race of giant, man-size turkeys. The turkeys made the pilgrims' first year in America very difficult. First of all, the turkeys would call the pilgrims and ask them to hang out, but when the pilgrims arrived at the Giant Turkey House, nobody would be home. Then the turkeys started making lewd comments about the pilgrim women, like "You don't look so puritan to me, baby," or "Want a scarlet letter, dollface?" When the pilgrims discovered that the turkeys had removed bits of caulk to make the pilgrims' cabins drafty, that was the last turkey in the straw.

But what could the pilgrims do? The turkeys were so mean and self-confident. The pilgrims went to their new friend, Squanto, to talk about their problem.

"The turkeys have always been a problem for us as well," Squanto said. "The other day we were hanging out, and they kept calling me 'Squa.' Like a woman!" He shook is head.

"We'd like to kill them," said one of the pilgrims. "But we don't know how!" And that's when Squanto showed them how to kill the turkeys by shoving an ear of corn in their mouths and burying fish in their chest cavities.

Together the pilgrims and the Indians took a stand against bullying and killed all of the giant turkeys. To celebrate they had a great feast where they ate the turkeys as a symbol of dominance over their oppressors. Each Thanksgiving after that, the pilgrims and Indians ate the largest small-turkey they could find to help make sure that the turkeys didn't evolve into giants again.

And that, that is the tradition we carry to this very day.

Also, here's an old story of mine about Thanksgiving.

Die Actor Die at the Khyber, 56 S. 2nd St. 8 p.m. $5. Rob and I are performing, as are a number of other excellent folks. I hope to see you there!

I think if you like something (rock music, sketch comedy, eggs), it's a pretty good idea to understand where it came from (blues, theater, chickens). A couple of days ago, someone recommended the comedy of Nichols and May to me, and in searching for samples, I found an online archive of the public radio show Comedy College. Holy crap. Each half-hour episode, hosted by famous comedians such as Steve Martin and Lily Tomlin, features the material and story of a different classic comedian. It's fantastic. Take a listen.

UPDATE: Shortly after I posted this, Comedy College let the registration run out for the site that holds their audio files. Hah. Hopefully that'll be back soon.

I've been busy, and it's put me in a posting slump. Whoops! Now, from Bruce McCulloch, here's one of my favorite reminders that life is awesome:

Today I was put in the position of needing to make myself a nickname. Or, rather, I sort of suggested that I give myself a nickname. I love the idea of creating your own nickname because it seems like the final frontier of sadness. It makes me think of some poor dweeb who's desperate to be cool, so he creates some name that he thinks sounds bad ass, like "Blade" or "Chip" or "Ray Tracer" and tries to convince people to call him that. For example:

Cool guy: "Hey, Jim."
Jim: "No! I told you before, man! Call me Ray Tracer!"

See? Poor Ray Tracer.

Anyway, my nickname is Day Bat. I chose this for two reasons:

1. It's like a normal bat, but more intense because it might be rabid.
2. It shortens to "Da'Bat."

Obviously.