Snl Quotes

A coworker at SNL dropped an angry c-bomb on me and i had the weirdest reaction. To my surprise, I blurted, "No. You don't get to call me that. My parents love me. I'm not some Adult Child of an Alcoholic that's going to take that shit.

Amy Poehler was new to SNL and we were all crowded into the seventeenth-floor writers' room, waiting for the Wednesday night read-through to start. [...] Amy was in the middle of some such nonsense with Seth Meyers across the table, and she did something vulgar as a joke. I can't remember what it was exactly, except it was dirty and loud and "unladylike", Jimmy Fallon [...] turned to her and in a faux-squeamish voice said, "Stop that! It's not cute! I don't like it." Amy dropped what she was doing, went black in the eyes for a second, and wheeled around on him. "I don't fucking care if you like it." Jimmy was visibly startled. Amy went right back to enjoying her ridiculous bit. With that exchange, a cosmic shift took place. Amy made it clear that she wasn't there to be cute. She wasn't there to play wives and girlfriends in the boys' scenes. She was there to do what she wanted to do and she did not fucking care if you like it.

The show doesn’t go on because it’s ready; it goes on because it’s 11:30.

Either way, everything will be fine. But if you have an opinion, please feel free to offer it to me through the gap in the door of a public restroom. Everyone else does.

When I first set out to ruin SNL, I didn't think anyone would notice, but i persevered because like you trying to a do a nine- piece jigsaw puzzle, it was a labor of love.

Hey! Remember the '90s? The Clintons were in office, everybody was using AOL, Will Ferrell and Cheri Oteri did "the Cheerleaders" on SNL, and everybody thought Oasis was fantastic. In hindsight, we were all a bunch of potato-salad-eating jackasses.

Long after I left the segment, the term “fake news” became the ordinary way to describe what was done on SNL as well as The Daily Show and The Colbert Report. So who’s the idiot now?

Conversations, much like Saturday Night Live skits, are often difficult to end.

The show (SNL) doesn’t go on because it’s ready; it goes on because it’s 11:30.

If women could ejaculate, I would have exploded hot jizz all over my manager's face. Instead, I hugged him. (about getting the SNL gig as a writer)

As Lorne says, 'Careers are made by choices.

Both scary and down-to-earth, he [John Belushi] once told me, 'I never yell at the staff, only the department heads'.

Either way, senators certainly do a lot less drugs than we did at SNL.

The novelty of bare rock walls instead of concrete had become old at the speed of SNL material.

My unsolicited advice to women in the workplace is this. When faced with sexism or ageism or lookism or even really aggressive Buddhism, ask yourself the following question: “Is this person in between me and what I want to do? If the answer is no, ignore it and move on. Your energy is better used doing your work and outpacing people that way. Then, when you’re in charge, don’t hire the people who were jerky to you. If the answer is yes, you have a more difficult road ahead of you. I suggest you model your strategy after the old Sesame Street film piece, "Over! Under! Through!” (If you’re under forty, you might not remember this film. It taught the concepts of, “over,” and “under,” and “through” by filming toddlers crawling around an abandoned construction site. They don’t show it anymore because someone has since realized that’s nuts.) If your boss is a jerk, try to find someone above or around your boss who is not a jerk. If you’re lucky, your workplace will have a neutral proving ground- like the rifle range or a car sales total board of the SNL read-through. If so, focus on that. Again, don’t waste your energy trying to educate or change opinions. Go “Over! Under! Through!” and opinions will change organically when you’re the boss. Or they won’t. Who cares? Do your thing and don’t care if they like it.

Almost every job I have ever gotten was due to someone knowing my work or seeing me in something else. I was in UCB and Andy Richter suggested I do stuff for Conan. Being on Conan helped me land a part in Deuce Bigalow. My UCB television show and friends helped me get an audition for SNL; my SNL connections resulted in Parks and Recreation. See, years and years of hard work and little bits of progress isn’t nearly as entertaining as imagining me telling a joke in a Boston food court when suddenly Lorne Michaels walks up and says, “I must have you for a little show I do.

During the writers’ strike in 2007, we put on our own SNL episode there with old sketches. Michael Cera hosted, our musical guest was Yo La Tengo, and we gave Lorne a birthday cake as he sat in the audience.

When I left SNL, I gave Seth a badge of courage, like Dorothy give to the Cowardly Lion...He kept it in his pocket during "Update" until he didn't need it anymore. Now it sits in a box on his desk at Late Night.

At the [SNL] party I went up to Justin Timberlake at some point and said, 'Yo, dude. I kind of got beef with you. You don't know me, but I am the person that you've been stealing your moves from. I really don't appreciate that shit!' And then I did some sweet Timberlake dance moves. 'That's my shit,' I said. 'My! Shit!' And I kept on doing his dance moves right in his face. (I was sure after that he'd want to put me in one of his videos.)

One of my recurring D-list moments is when people stop me in the airport and tell me they loved me on SNL. I never know if they think I’m Molly Shannon, Cheri Oteri, or Chris Kattan. I just say “Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed me as Mango.

I’ve been very lucky to have a job this great for this long. When I look back someday, I think that my time at SNL will seem like the best years of my life. But I also think that my best life is still yet to come. And if not, I can always beg Lorne for my job back.

So my unsolicited advice to women in the workplace is this. When faced with sexism or ageism or lookism or even really aggressive Buddhism, ask yourself the following question: “Is this person in between me and what I want to do?” If the answer is no, ignore it and move on. Your energy is better used doing your work and outpacing people that way. Then, when you’re in charge, don’t hire the people who were jerky to you. If the answer is yes, you have a more difficult road ahead of you. I suggest you model your strategy after the old Sesame Street film piece “Over! Under! Through!” (If you’re under forty you might not remember this film. It taught the concepts of “over,” “under,” and “through” by filming toddlers crawling around an abandoned construction site. They don’t show it anymore because someone has since realized that’s nuts.) If your boss is a jerk, try to find someone above or around your boss who is not a jerk.* If you’re lucky, your workplace will have a neutral proving ground—like the rifle range or the car sales total board or the SNL read-through. If so, focus on that. Again, don’t waste your energy trying to educate or change opinions. Go “Over! Under! Through!” and opinions will change organically when you’re the boss. Or they won’t. Who cares? Do your thing and don’t care if they like it.

I told Chris [Farley] and the writers, "Look. Whatever you do, the one thing to remember is: don't start from the ending [of the "van down by the river" sketch]. Start from the beginning, so that you have somewhere to go." Almost every time Chris did that sketch after I left SNL, he started by breaking the table. I just became one of those dangerous examples of becoming addicted to the big laugh. You become addicted as a performer to that big moment, and you ask yourself, Why am I not just doing my big thing that gets the big reaction? Why am I not just standing up there and doing that?

I told Chris [Farley] and the writers, "Look. Whatever you do, the one thing to remember is: don't start from the ending [of the "van down by the river" sketch]. Start from the beginning, so that you have somewhere to go." Almost every time Chris did that sketch after I left SNL, he started by breaking the table. It just became one of those dangerous examples of becoming addicted to the big laugh. You become addicted as a performer to that big moment, and you ask yourself, Why am I not just doing my big thing that gets the big reaction? Why am I not just standing up there and doing that?

is this. When faced with sexism or ageism or lookism or even really aggressive Buddhism, ask yourself the following question: “Is this person in between me and what I want to do?” If the answer is no, ignore it and move on. Your energy is better used doing your work and outpacing people that way. Then, when you’re in charge, don’t hire the people who were jerky to you. If the answer is yes, you have a more difficult road ahead of you. I suggest you model your strategy after the old Sesame Street film piece “Over! Under! Through!” (If you’re under forty you might not remember this film. It taught the concepts of “over,” “under,” and “through” by filming toddlers crawling around an abandoned construction site. They don’t show it anymore because someone has since realized that’s nuts.) If your boss is a jerk, try to find someone above or around your boss who is not a jerk.* If you’re lucky, your workplace will have a neutral proving ground—like the rifle range or the car sales total board or the SNL read-through. If so, focus on that. Again, don’t waste your energy trying to educate or change opinions. Go “Over! Under! Through!” and opinions will change organically when you’re the boss. Or they

My unsolicited advice to women in the workplace is this. When faced with sexism or ageism or lookism or even really aggressive Buddhism, ask yourself the following question: “Is this person in between me and what I want to do? If the answer is no, ignore it and move on. Your energy is better used doing your work and outpacing people that way. Then, when you’re in charge, don’t hire the people who were jerky to you. If the answer is yes, you have a more difficult road ahead of you. I suggest you model your strategy after the old Sesame Street film piece, "Over! Under! Through!” (If you’re under forty, you might not remember this film. It taught the concepts of, “over,” and “under,” and “through” by filming toddlers crawling around an abandoned construction site. They don’t show it anymore because someone has since realized that’s nuts.) If your boss is a jerk, try to find someone above or around your boss who is not a jerk. If you’re lucky, your workplace will have a neutral proving ground- like the rifle range or a car sales total board or the SNL read-through. If so, focus on that. Again, don’t waste your energy trying to educate or change opinions. Go “Over! Under! Through!” and opinions will change organically when you’re the boss. Or they won’t. Who cares? Do your thing and don’t care if they like it.

Indeed, equal amounts of research support both assertions: that mentorship works and that it doesn’t. Mentoring programs break down in the workplace so often that scholarly research contradicts itself about the value of mentoring at all, and prompts Harvard Business Review articles with titles such as “Why Mentoring Doesn’t Work.” The mentorship slip is illustrated well by family businesses: 70 percent of them fail when passed to the second generation. A business-owner parent is in a perfect spot to mentor his or her child to run a company. And yet, sometime between mentorship and the business handoff, something critical doesn’t stick. One of the most tantalizing ideas about training with a master is that the master can help her protégé skip several steps up the ladder. Sometimes this ends up producing Aristotle. But sometimes it produces Icarus, to whom his father and master craftsman Daedalus of Greek mythology gave wings; Icarus then flew too high too fast and died. Jimmy Fallon’s mentor, one of the best-connected managers Jimmy could have for his SNL dream, served him up on a platter to SNL auditions in a fraction of the expected time it should take a new comedian to get there. But Jimmy didn’t cut it—yet. There was still one more ingredient, the one that makes the difference between rapid-rising protégés who soar and those who melt their wings and crash. III.

One thing I love about SNL is that we welcome hosts and musical guests from all over the country (and the world) with a wide range of social and political views. People forget that it’s a variety show, and that means a variety of viewpoints, politically and culturally. (And comedically.)

NODO

ohohsexy!!!!!!!

goodboy

sorry guy...

foryou!~~~~

momy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

nodo!~nodo~~~

jaenny!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

north korea?

myjot....

girls~my sexy baBY!~~~~~~

★Katalk:SNL79★ ★Katalk:SNL79★ ★Katalk:SNL79★ ★Katalk:SNL79★ ★Katalk:SNL79★

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★Katalk:SNL79★ ★Katalk:SNL79★ ★Katalk:SNL79★ ★Katalk:SNL79★ ★Katalk:SNL79★a7a8a78a87 ★Katalk:SNL79★ ★Katalk:SNL79★ ★Katalk:SNL79★ ★Katalk:SNL79★ ★Katalk:SNL79★

Jimmy’s goal since childhood, he explained to Siegel, had been to join the cast of Saturday Night Live. He was endearing. After a two-hour call, Siegel offered to represent him. She had one question, however. “Why don’t you stay and graduate?” Jimmy was a semester shy of a degree. Siegel suggested that they get started in the summer, so he’d have a bachelor’s degree to fall back on, just in case. “No, no,” Jimmy insisted. “I need to get on Saturday Night Live, and you’re going to make it happen, because you know Adam Sandler! I don’t want to do anything else.” Siegel knew this was a long shot—and a long-term endeavor—especially for an out-of-town kid with zero acting credits. But for some reason, she couldn’t turn him down; she had never met someone as focused and passionate about a single dream as this grinning bumpkin from the tiny town of Saugerties, New York. And though his skills were rough, given some time in the industry, she thought he might just make it. “OK, let’s do this,” she said. So, in January 1996 Jimmy quit college and moved to Los Angeles. For six months, Siegel booked him gigs on small, local stand-up comedy stages. Then, without warning, SNL put a call out for auditions; three cast members would be leaving the show. Having worked with one of the departing actors, David Spade, Siegel pulled a few strings and arranged a Hail Mary for the young Jimmy Fallon: an audition at The Comic Strip. SO HERE HE WAS. Fresh-faced, sweating in his light shirt, holding his Troll doll. In front of Lorne Michaels and a phalanx of Hollywood shakers. When Jimmy ended his three-minute bit, the audience clapped politely. True to his reputation, Michaels didn’t laugh. Not once. Jimmy went home and awaited word. Finally, the results came: SNL had invited Tracy Morgan, Ana Gasteyer, and Chris Kattan, each of whom had hustled in the comedy scene for years, to join the cast. Jimmy—the newbie whose well-connected manager had finagled an invite—was crushed. “Was he completely raw? A hundred percent,” Siegel says. But, the SNL people said, “Let’s keep an eye on him.

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So what are you doing lurking out here?” Madison asked, cradling the sticker with Blue’s number in her hand, so Jeremy wouldn’t see it. Jeremy leaned in until his face was only inches from hers, and whispered, “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” “Ahem!” a deep voice sounded behind them. “I hate to interrupt this little tete-a-tete, but don’t you have someplace else you ought to be right now?” Madison and Jeremy sprang away from each other like startled pigeons. They turned and guiltily faced the principal. Madison spoke first. “Hello, Mr. Kaufman. I left some, um, material for my report for Mr. Dalberg’s class in my locker and I was just about to get it.” “Is that your locker?” Mr. Kaufman asked. Jeremy cut in. “Actually, it’s my locker. Madison forgot to mention that she had asked me to keep it for her.” Jeremy spun the combination on the lock to show Mr. Kaufman that he was actually getting the report. He swung open the locker and grabbed the first thing he could put his hands on--a MAD magazine. Without skipping a beat, Madison took it and started talking. “You see, Mr. Kaufman, we’re studying the role that periodicals and newspapers have played in American historical events. For instance, um, Tom Paine’s pamphlet Common Sense helped start the American Revolution, and, well, Horace Greeley’s editorials in the New York Tribune sparked the great Westward migration and the idea of Manifest Destiny, and now MAD magazine has, um, er--” “Redefined the concept of social satire in the twentieth century,” Jeremy jumped in. “Without MAD, there’d have been no National Lampoon. Without the National Lampoon, no Saturday Night Live. Without SNL, there’d be no Bill Murray. Eddie Murphy. Adam Sandler. The list goes on and on.” “Really?” Mr. Kaufman raised one eyebrow. “Very interesting.” Madison plastered a grateful smile on her face and extended her hand to Jeremy. “Thanks for keeping this, um, research material for me.” Jeremy shook her hand politely. “Anytime, Madison. I have room in here for lots more of your, uh, reports.” Before Mr. Kaufman could say anything, Jeremy shut his locker, and the two of them marched off in opposite directions away from the principal. As she walked away, Madison held her breath waiting for Mr. Kaufman to call them back. But he didn’t. Madison couldn’t believe her luck. What a bizarre encounter! And yes, she had to admit it: Jeremy had really bailed her out when she’d run out of gas with her excuse.

I've only been to SNL three times, and one time I was there, Chevy and Billy were having a huge screaming fight in the hallway, and Michael O'Donoghue and Tom Davis were holding them back, and John and Danny jumped in because Chevy and Billy were really going to come to blows. I mean, it was a huge argument. And the thing I remember about Bill Murray—I don't know Bill Murray, but he's screaming, you know, foaming at the mouth, 'Fucking Chevy," and in anger he says, 'Medium talent!' and I thought 'Ooh boy, that's funny. In anger he says 'medium talent.' That really impressed me. I went, 'So, Bill Murray—wow, who is that guy?" —John Landis

I would get home from school at 1:45 and crash hard on the couch, waking up only to watch my beloved General Hospital or do homework or sluggishly walk to softball practice. I was always tired. I am always tired. I now read articles about how great sleep is and how important it is and I cry because I want it so bad and I am so mad at how great everyone else seems to be at it. I got some relief from my sleep problem once I started working at SNL (this sounds crazy, I realize that). It was truly a vampire life and one that suited my internal clock. At the time I did not have children, so I was able to stay up very late and sleep very late. I remember ten A.M. feeling incredibly early and three A.M. being my usual bedtime. This was my life for seven years.

is as follows: Police agency, 399 (38.6%); Supreme Prosecutor’s Office, 284 (27.4%); Board of Audit and Inspection, 126 (12.2%); Central government agency, 124

2002 to December 2013, 527 reports (50.9%) were on whistleblowing cases. Excluding the 92 cases currently under investigation, 74.9% of the 435 reports, whose

Alleged report: When entrusting research tasks from government agency B, professors and others embezzled the personnel expenses of the researchers

Result of investigation: It was confirmed that 6 public officials, including mayor A, had received money, valuables, and entertainment amounting to hundreds

from the second half of 2008 to the first half of 2013 was 1,949 in total. The most, amounting to 645, were reported from central government agencies, followed by 494 from

what is more nerve-racking: live comedy or the World Series. “SNL

(When I started at SNL, you could still smoke in an office building. I might not be young.) I

Around 5:30 P.M., Oprah and I wrapped and I went over to SNL, but not before stealing an untouched Edible Arrangements® bouquet from Oprah’s dressing room to serve at the birthday party the next day.

Mohunk is a huge, stately manor in the Hudson Valley that reminded me of a cruise ship inside a mansion. As I checked in at the reservation desk, I looked around and noticed that the average age there was the day before death. It was like a place where Wilford Brimley and Bea Arthur would go to rent a paddleboat….

I spent about eighty hours a week at the Lampoon, and took an approach I would later take at SNL: I wrote more than anyone else because I wanted to improve as fast as I could.

Keep calm, and get fired up

Men and women have minds, and have a right to think and a right to live as they wish so long as they do not interfere with the welfare of society.

The news never meant anything to us on “SNL” because we always looked at it just to see how to satirize it. Nothing in our personal lives was sacred. We used all of it for material on the show. The most important thing was those ninety minutes live on Saturday night. So what if your whole world was falling apart as long as you could find a joke in it and make up a scene. Millions of Americans saw what we did, and it was a charmed time. We thought we were immortal, at least for five years. But that doesn’t exist anymore. Now real stuff happens.

It was like I was in an SNL sketch about the over-singing pop-star mom.

I suggest you model your strategy after the old Sesame Street film piece “Over! Under! Through!” (If you’re under forty you might not remember this film. It taught the concepts of “over,” “under,” and “through” by filming toddlers crawling around an abandoned construction site. They don’t show it anymore because someone has since realized that’s nuts.) If your boss is a jerk, try to find someone above or around your boss who is not a jerk.* If you’re lucky, your workplace will have a neutral proving ground—like the rifle range or the car sales total board or the SNL read-through. If so, focus on that. Again, don’t waste your energy trying to educate or change opinions. Go “Over! Under! Through!” and opinions will change organically when you’re the boss. Or they won’t. Who cares? Do your thing and don’t care if they like it.

I think of this whenever someone says to me, “Jerry Lewis says women aren’t funny,” or “Christopher Hitchens says women aren’t funny,” or “Rick Fenderman says women aren’t funny…. Do you have anything to say to that?” Yes. We don’t fucking care if you like it. I don’t say it out loud, of course, because Jerry Lewis is a great philanthropist, Hitchens is very sick, and the third guy I made up. Unless one of these men is my boss, which none of them is, it’s irrelevant. My hat goes off to them. It is an impressively arrogant move to conclude that just because you don’t like something, it is empirically not good. I don’t like Chinese food, but I don’t write articles trying to prove it doesn’t exist. So my unsolicited advice to women in the workplace is this. When faced with sexism or ageism or lookism or even really aggressive Buddhism, ask yourself the following question: “Is this person in between me and what I want to do?” If the answer is no, ignore it and move on. Your energy is better used doing your work and outpacing people that way. Then, when you’re in charge, don’t hire the people who were jerky to you. If the answer is yes, you have a more difficult road ahead of you. I suggest you model your strategy after the old Sesame Street film piece “Over! Under! Through!” (If you’re under forty you might not remember this film. It taught the concepts of “over,” “under,” and “through” by filming toddlers crawling around an abandoned construction site. They don’t show it anymore because someone has since realized that’s nuts.) If your boss is a jerk, try to find someone above or around your boss who is not a jerk.* If you’re lucky, your workplace will have a neutral proving ground—like the rifle range or the car sales total board or the SNL read-through. If so, focus on that. Again, don’t waste your energy trying to educate or change opinions. Go “Over! Under! Through!” and opinions will change organically when you’re the boss. Or they won’t. Who cares? Do your thing and don’t care if they like it.

Questions and topics for discussion 1) What do you think it means to be a Bossypants? Do you know anyone personally that you would describe as a Bossypants and did the society you live in ever try to drown her? 2) The lessons Tina has learned from her work as a writer, a boss, a performer, and a producer are lessons that can be carried across a wide array of disciplines. (For instance, from her instructions about improv: Always speak in statements.) Which moments resonated the most for you? 3) In Chapter 4, Tina realizes that she has been guilty of holding her gay friends to a double standard—enjoying their company but still expecting them to stay in a “half-closet.” Have you ever had a moment like this? In a related question, do you think young pop stars today experience too much pressure to pretend to be a lesbian with Madonna? 4) While working at the YMCA in Chicago, Tina experienced some personal low points. But it also propelled her into pursuing her improv career. Have you ever experienced a similarly transformative period? During your transformation, did you ever spin around and pretend to be Wonder Woman? 5) What are some of your favorite SNL sketches or 30 Rock episodes? Should we just act them out? 6) Which other celebrities, besides Kim Kardashian, do you think may have been engineered by Russian scientists to sabotage our athletes? 7) Are there more specifics you would add to “The Mother’s Prayer for Its Daughter”? 8) Tina writes a love letter to Amy Poehler. Do you have friends who inspire you in the same way that Amy inspires Tina? ACTIVITY: Write a love letter to Amy Poehler and mail it to her home address (p. 291).

And Oh, the Cable News Reportage! The great thing about cable news is that they have to have something to talk about twenty-four hours a day. Sometimes it’s Anderson Cooper giggling with one of the Real Housewives of Atlanta. Sometimes it’s Rick Sanchez screaming about corn syrup. They have endless time to fill, but viewers get kind of “bummed out” if they supply actual information about wars and stuff, so “Media Portrayal of Sarah Palin” and SNL and I became the carrageenan in America’s news nuggets for several weeks. I was a cable news star, like a shark or a missing white child!

Improvisation and sketch comedy let me choose who I wanted to be. I didn’t audition to play the sexy girl, I just played her. I got to cast myself. I cast myself as sexy girls, old men, rock stars, millionaire perverts, and rodeo clowns. I played werewolves and Italian prostitutes and bitchy cheerleaders. I was never too this or not enough that. Every week on SNL I had the opportunity to write whatever I wanted. And then I was allowed to read it! And people had to listen! And once in a blue moon it got on TV! And maybe five times it was something really good. Writing gave me an incredible amount of power, and my currency became what I wrote and said and did. If you write a scene for yourself you can say in the stage directions, “THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN THE WORLD ENTERS THE BAR AND ALL THE MEN AND WOMEN TURN THEIR HEADS.

Lullabies came hard for me. My first night home from the hospital with Maxwell, I was afraid to sing to her because I didn’t know if I could sing quiet. I’ve never had to sing where I didn’t have to perform. Aim my voice for the back of the arena. I remember thinking, Should I just sing “The Star-Spangled Banner” quietly? If I tried “Amazing Grace,” I knew I would get the Spirit and bust her little eardrum. It was like I was in an SNL sketch about the over-singing pop-star mom. Whitney saved me.

First of all, you came to where I live and YOU hit ME!

Hollywood would never be the same again. Because what was possible, this scruffy and slightly shambolic band had proven, was absolutely anything. They had battled ghouls, made a giant action movie based around blues music, set the template for the buddy-cop film, and inspired millions around the world to memorize and repeat their quips. They had even, on occasion, made people cry. Not all of their material has aged well, and some of it wasn't even funny at the time. But there is no denying that their vast ambition, raw talent, and total disregard for the rules combined to create a movement that was beloved, influential, and truly special. Their movies have been remade, spun off, and homaged to death, and fans still dress up as Ghostbusters, Blutos, and Blues Brothers (the mutant troll-babies from Nothing But Trouble, not so much). Hollywood scouts now keep a close eye on TV sketch shows, particularly SNL, as well as web series on the cutting edge of comedy, in the hopes of finding the next big star. And studio comedies have become raunchier, weirder, bigger, and looser, always chasing that elusive alchemy that happened in the 1980s, when a bunch of very silly men were given very large sums of money and allowed to go play.

Lorne is truly a paradox. Half parade, half ox.

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And then that big Chris laugh. Man, I miss that laugh. That big Chris laugh.

Almost every job I have ever gotten was due to someone knowing my work or seeing me in something else. I was in UCB and Andy Richter suggested I do stuff for 'Conan'. Being on 'Conan' helped me land a part in 'Deuce Bigalow'. My UCB television show and friends helped me get an audition for SNL; my SNL connections resulted in Parks and Recreation. See, years and years of hard work and little bits of progress isn't nearly as entertaining as imagining me telling a joke in a Boston food court when suddenly Lorne Michaels walks up and says, "I must have you for a little show I do.

I didn’t discover that I was special at SNL—I was always that. I just had not fully owned it. And that’s the frustration with this industry—you have to fight for that freedom, and when you do, sometimes it’s a problem, especially if they want to take your magic and use it the way they want you to use it. Or they just try to own your magic, or wring the fuck out of it, or try to copy it. Or they will try to make you think they discovered your magic.

(I’ll never forget Prince being on SNL; at one point he saw me to the side of the stage and because the room was dark, he thought I was Chris Rock. I know that because he called me Chris Rock.)

Partly I had that attitude because I was the oldest on the cast, and partly it was because of what I’d been through. After my brother died, I just abused myself. I dated terrible guys, did all kinds of stupid shit. I thought, The world has killed everybody anyway… In a way, SNL kind of saved me a little bit (as did a really great new therapist in New York)—I had work to do, so I just did it.

I got SNL! I got SNL!” I screamed over and over and over again. He looked at me puzzled. “What the fuck is SNL?” he said. This is the hood. He didn’t know Saturday Night Live—he probably thought SNL was slang for some kind of strange venereal disease. But from then on, he would know what SNL was. Leslie Fucking Jones had just gotten the job of a lifetime, and nothing would ever be the same again.