DAMN YOU SCORPION LIQUOR!!!

There's a scorpion in this liquor! What you want me to take some shots with you, you're paying? Yeah sure, what could go wrong?

Cheers, Gung! I don't wanna be rude right?

Mmm, the sweet taste of scorpion.

Ungghh Ngyueynnngg! Oh God. What? You want me to take a few more? OK, Ok. Time to go back to my room. Wait there's a lady in the tiles in my shower. How you doing? Hey lady, do you know why there are so many caves in Halong Bay? Because the fishermen got mad at the monkeys for eating the fish and threw them against the cliffs. That's where the caves come from lady, I can't be wrong, I'm full of scorpion liquor. You are the prettiest tile lady I've ever seen. Do you know why there are so many caves in Halong Bay? Monkeys! Yep.

Next day: Rendered futile! Excruciating pain! There's a goddamn scorpion in my stomach.

This is the worst stomach pain I've ever had. It feels like someone stabs me in the gut every 3 minutes. Then it goes away. Ah that's better. STAB!!! Ouch, Damn, AHHH. Oh it's gone now, boy that wasn't a big deal, just better not have anymore Scorpohol. STAB!!! Ahhhh!!!! Damn it! I got to get out of Nam. Damn you Scorpion Liquor!

Plane-Taxi-Taxi-Scooter-Bus-Taxi-Bus-Boat-Bus-Boat to Paradise

Thus with imagined wing our swift scene flies in motion of no less celerity than that of thought!


Suppose that you have seen, an American traveller alone admist the nations his homeland had once sought to conquer a mere generation before. Play with your fancies and in them behold a man: ravaged by the river and jungle as he crosses the sweltering tarmac holding due course for Hanoi. Follow, follow, and from a balcony high above the burgeoning city, hear the shrill whistles of motorbikes and grapple with the bellowing of a western stomach too weak for scorpohol.

(I had Henry V on the mind) On the plane from Luang Prabang to Hanoi I met a young Australian who goes by the name of "Ang", Angela is two syllables too long for this busy young lady. "Oh no, not an Australian" you may be thinking?!? The young men of that former prison nation have given the Aussies a bad name, being constantly "on the piss," and as obnoxious as a crocodile hunter at a bachelor party. The girls are quite a different story: Ang just got her PHD in agriculture and was managing a sheep farm in Tasmania whilst getting her doctorate with an emphasis in carrot reproduction. Oh yeah? Well I'm a comedian who worked in a gynecology clinic, beat that!


She's doing a bit of travelling before returning to "Tassie" to make the world safe for carrot sex. She's quite smart and has an ambitious sense of adventure. We both have no clue of what to do in Hanoi, or how to get to Halong Bay (paradise).


Hanoi is the craziest city I have ever seen. It makes New York, Bangkok, Rome, Los Angeles, Naples, Barcelona look like quaint little villages. The streets are jam packed with motorbikes and buses and taxis and rickshaws and bicycles and vendors and people, so many people! There's no room on sidewalks for pedestrians so we all just dodge each other on the street like an apocolyptic game of Frogger (TM) on warp speed. Perhaps coming from Laos, I wasn't ready for the culture shock. Laos is so laid back, and Vietnam is apparently extremely pushy, when it comes to the tourist industry. You can't go three feet before being accosted by a motorbike and a kid with gum and a lady with fruit and shop keeper that knows you secretly want to rock that Ho Chi Mihn look with the Commie cap and the socialist red star. It's tremedously annoying, and of course there's trash everywhere.

Must get out of this place! Must get to Halong. Must see beautiful Limestone cliffs and Karst Towers. No I DON'T NEED A MOTORBIKE!!!
The destination was Cat Ba island. Now there are at least 300,000 different places in Hanoi that will sell you a package tour to Cat Ba island and Halong Bay. But I am no mere Tourist! I will not be packaged with the masses, and neither will Ang, we're gonna get to Halong Bay the old fashioned way! By taking a taxi, then a scooter, then a bus, then a taxi, then a bus, then a boat, then a bus. It ended up costing a whole lot, but at least we were the only white people on this particular mission, it makes you feel a lot more daring when you're the only Westerner. Cat Ba island was the same, I don't know where they take the whiteys actually, must be some special island resort. We booked a boat (that was three times as expensive as we expected, damn these Vietnamese are clever are getting your money) and headed out.


Nothing crazy happened this time, no head cracking, or stomach thwacking, or machete incidents; just pure relaxing beautiful fun. Here's a list of amazing things we saw.

-An endless maze of islands and dramatic Karst Towers
-Fishing villages
-Secluded beachs
-Caves
-Tunnels that lead under mountains to hidden lagoons
-Hawks sailing above the hills
-Jumping schools of fish
-Jellyfish
-Trash (lots of floating plastic near some of the fishing areas)
-Yellow and Black stripey fish that you could see while snorkelling
-Thunderstorms that lit up the sky and water and literally shook the boat
-A full moon that was bright enough to eat dinner by
-Phosphorescents in the evening water
-Ridiculously heavy rainstorms (the sun came out for no more than a few hours, but the water and the temperature were always warm)

Our guides were very nice, and amazing cooks, the meals were the best part. Fresh crab and pineapple squid salad were the favorites, with a special mention to the crispy baby black fishes and buttery morning glory.

That was great, really great, but I honestly don't think I'll ever intentionally return to Nam again. One tour was enough, plus now I get to say:

"Look, I didn't go to Viet-frickin-Nam, just so you damn hippies can burn a flag."

Just follow the nice man with the Machete.

First off- I would like to dedicate the following blog entry to the children of Laos who saved my life on numerous occasions over the last few days. Thank you, you've made this blog possible.

I crossed the border into a Laos a few days ago. It was easy, Laos was happy to have us. Unless you were Canadian of course, they had by far the highest fee of any nation to get a Visa to travel in Laos. That's right Canada, Laos hates you and everything you stand for, now cough up an extra 7 dollars and get your Canuck-butt back on the bus!

I arrived in the capital city of Vientiane. Nice city, about the size of Everett, WA, but with more temples, and embassies, and French restaurants. I got "dressed up" (put on pants) and walked to the Vietnamese embassy to get my Visa. I thought I should look a bit more professional for the Vietnamese, there was one other person there, a really shady looking dirty man with a long beard and a wicked gleam in his eye.

"I want six month visa with multiple entries" he said, I thought this guy didn't stand a chance.

"Sure," said the consulate and gave Shady McUptonogood a Visa. I got mine in a flash and I was on my way. But not before I paid too much for a fancy French meal. Peppercrusted Pork Loin with vegetables in a mustard gravy. Awesome.

Then I was off to Vang Vieng. The road was muddy and the bus was really slow and rickety, but the views were spectacular. I had never seen a rice paddy before, now I can die satisfied.

Speaking of dying, I'm not gonna do it, not here, not now, not with the children of Laos protecting me. Vang Vieng has touristically exploded recently thanks to one activity, tubing. Here's how it works. You get an intertube, they take you a few km up the Mekong River, you get in.

Then the drinking begins.

Before you've been in the river for more than a minute, there's a group of Lao kids throwing ropes and bamboo and life preservers at you. They are trying to draw you into the first river bar. Here you sit by the river, with some of the most amazing mountain views you've ever witnessed and you pound back a few Laos beers with your new friends.

There's a rope swing!

I love rope swings and this is the best damn rope swing I've ever seen. It's really, really high above the water and when you let go it's quite a drop. This is too good really, I'm embarrassed by how much I'm enjoying this. As soon as you land in the Mekong the current starts pulling you on down, but the good Laotian children who are STRONGEST SWIMMERS ON EARTH pull you back in.

So you get back in your tube, float on down to the next bar, and the next bar, and the next bar. You do some more rope swings, then a zip line, then you drink some more. Back in the water, next bar had volleyball and soccer, oh god make it stop. Too much fun!!! Now everyone is totally covered in mud and we're all dancing in the rain as the clouds cling to the jagged walls of the mountains surrounding us.

I'm not proud of myself, this can't be good for the culture of central Laos, and the whole thing feels a bit too much like Spring Break Vang Vieng 2008! But damn it, I can't help but love it. Soccer in the warm torrential rain! Rope swings! It's like if Shawshank Redemption ended with a beach volleyball match.

Watching people jump off the ropes is the primary entertainment, and I now have the reputation as "The Entertainer", my new friends are encouraging me to get out there and do something either spectacular or hilarious. I will not dissappoint them.

I take the rope and take to the skies. I am as Swayze as I wanna be out there above the river, I'm spinning and kicking and putting on quite a show. Now it's time for the dismount! I had pulled off a small flip earlier so now I'm feeling more ambitious. Especially since everyone knows I'm on my way to the Olympics. It's time to flip and spin. So I let go of the rope and go flippy spinny into the air. However I don't make it all the way around, oh shit . . . !

SMACK!

I hit the water with a thunderous ker-smack. "OOOOHHHHHhhhh DDAAAMmmmmnnnn" I can hear from the crowd as I come up for air. Worst landing EVER! I landed on my neck and side and it hurt like hell, for a second I thought I had done some real damage. The guardian angels of the Mekong (six year olds) pull me in. I'm OK . . . kinda. My neck hurts like hell and it's difficult to swallow. The left side of my torso is a mess. I have a bruise from armpit to waist that is purple yellow green and red. It looks like my side is covered with a mixture of oil and water, it's a dirty rainbow of pain. (when I have a chance I'll upload the photo, but you may not want to see it, it's nasty)

Screw the pain! It's time for some more muddy volleyball. I stay at the last bar just a bit too long and it's nearly dark when my friends and I get back in the water. By the time we reach the end of the tubing section it's dark and we don't know where we're going. Luckily there's a bunch of tiny girls who apparently are five times as strong as full grown westerners and they pull in the lot of us. Hell of a day.

The next day I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed and anti-social, I'm missing my friends from home and I'm fighty a funky feeling in both my brain and stomach. So I rent a bike with the mission of getting closer to those amazing mountains, maybe climb a little, just a little exploring on my own away from the crazy kids on the river.

I head out of town and into the rice paddies, after a few miles I see a sign that says "Cave with Buddha, great adventure way." I'm a sucker for that kind of thing.

I head down the lonely overgrown path and realize the bike is going to do me no good. So I ditch it, and start tramping through the mini-river in search of Buddha cave. The views again are spectacular. But after walking for a few hours, I think I may not be headed towards any cave, in fact, now the path is leading me away from mountain. As I re-enter the river I see a small Lao family climbing over a fence. The man I assume is the father jumps back over the fence and back into the river. He comes up to me, waving me off, since I'm obviously lost and going the wrong direction. I try to communicate.

"Buddha?" and I make the shape of a cave with my hands.

He beckons me with a head nod. This way, he seems to tell me. He begins to walk down the small river through the vines and trees.

At this point I realize this nice man is carrying a machete. Now I know all the children's books I've ever read say "Don't follow men with Machetes", but they've never been lost in a jungle in Laos. I'm following the nice machete man.

Another hour passes as we tramp on down the stream. Everytime we reach another fence he whips out his machete, cuts down some vines and repairs another fence.

See! He doesn't want to kill me, he's just doing some maintenence. He even opens the fence for me, which means I have to turn my back for a second, but at this point I'm not even scared. I love this guy! True to his word, he leads me to a very good path that leads me right up to the caves. Thank you Machete Man, you are a gentleman and fine repairer of fences.

I scale one of the Karst Towers and climb nearly a third of the way up. Looking back over the rice paddies is one of the greatest views I've ever witnessed. The caves have no Buddha, but I don't care. As I walk back down I see a big Lao family tramping along the path. I'm following these guys. They lead me, the muddy giant white guy, across the rice paddies and back to the road, I look ridiculous. Still, I make it back to town just before dark.

I've done a bit more travelling since then, I'm currently in the lovely city of Luang Prabang, and I had a wonderful day swimming in the waterfall yesterday. But now I've got to move on. I'm catching a plan to Hanoi in just a few hours. Soon it will be time to cross into China, which doesn't sound easy. All the other backpackers are like . . .

"You're crossing to China by land?"

"Yes, so . . . ?" I say.

"Ooh, good luck with that."

I highly recommend Laos for anyone travelling in this part of the world. I had a fantastic time, next stop Vietnam.

___________________

The world's worst ariel rope swing display above the Mekong River in Vang Vieng, Laos ended in the most embarrassing side-belly-neck flop in the course of human history. This is the massive bruise I still brandish. Plus, it still hurts to swallow. If you get even the slightest chuckle out of this ridiculous display of damaged blood and skin cells, just imagine the kind of river thwacking it would take to make such a mark.The world's worst ariel rope swing display above the Mekong River in Vang Vieng, Laos ended in the most embarrassing side-belly-neck flop in the course of human history. This is the massive bruise I still brandish. Plus, it still hurts to swallow. If you get even the slightest chuckle out of this ridiculous display of damaged blood and skin cells, just imagine the kind of river thwacking it would take to make such a mark.

Photographs from S.E. Asia

I only brought one green shirt to Thailand, and I'm gonna use it!



I add pictures of attractive young women to try and make myself look cool and popular. Truthfully I spend almost all of my time alone, which took a little getting used to, since I usually demand a lot of attention. I really like the solidarity of my travels (I'll sleep til 2pm if I wanna, then I'll get a banana chocalate pancake and a beer and go back to bed!), it's lonely at times, but you make great friends as well. Above: posing with some amazing Thaifood is Sonja, who I met my first day in Beijing, and posing in the Indian Ocean is Louiza, who would later have her face attacked by a monkey.

photos pic images jpegs, whatever the kids are callin em these days

The view from Au Naung in Krabi, Southern Thailand.
And an evil face biting monkey!

Photos!

Covered in red dirt, blood, rain, and sweat.




Enjoying a beer with Lucia, who I somehow managed to talk into fanning me with a giant palm leaf.

Thai Style Head Crackin'

It just isn't a good Siano vacation until I crack my head open. I figure if I don't draw blood, no one will read this blog.

Departing Bangkok in the middle of a tropical downpour, I headed south in search of a sandy beach that would be surrounded by my favorite geographical phenomenon: The KARST TOWER. In fact, this trip, previous to going to Beijing, is all about chasing Karst Towers. Here in the southern Thai town of Krabi, the place is nothing but Karst Towers, one of my next destinations in Halong Bay, Vietnam, again the towers, and finally Guilin China is a limestone paradise of Karst Towers. The minerals that compose these tiny giants actually eat the trees and folliage on top of them as they grow towards the skies creating the coolest and steepest looking hills on earth. Yesterday, just to show those beautiful little mountains how much I love them, I left a little chunk of my head on one of them.

I was climbing in search of distant lagoon, it was extremely muddy and it was raining, not good climbing weather. It was a strenous little hike up a steep cliff, but I took it real slow and paired up with a couple from Quebec, just so we could help each other out in case of emergency, like if someone fell, and cracked their head open. Only, I didn't fall. I was so focused on finding good footing and grabbing strong vines that when I got a solid grip, I just lifted myself up not looking at the rocks ABOVE ME.

Crack!

Blood! That was really stupid, the Quebecouis laughed at me, and we kept heading towards the lagoon. I felt fine, but when I saw the lagoon, we all got really scared. There were two more cliffs with nothing but a muddy rope to let you down. My mom, and Jeanne, and everyone who told me not to go looking for danger would have been proud. We turned back and decided a game of volleyball in the pool was just as rewarding as a lagoon surrounded by cliffs, and far less deadly.

SIDE STORY:

Speaking of deadly, the day before I was hanging out with a young Erika Kuever wannabe, she's studying Mandarin in Shanghai as part of her degree. She is the daughter of two Islamic Tartar Russians, and was born in Tajikistan and grew up in Russia and Germany, and now she studies in China, her name was Louiza. My story was much shorter, "I'm from Seattle, in America, they call me Mark."

We went on an elephant ride through the jungle, it was totally awesome dude! Dude! This elephant is trying to buck me dude, no way Stampy, I'm holding on!!

After the elephant ride, Louiza and I went to pay the nice men, and then a monkey attacked Louiza! It latched onto her face, dug its claws into her neck and bit a chunk out of her ear, Mike Tyson style. I was like "hey, there's a monkey biting your FACE!"

She turned out to be fine, but now we're both really scared of monkeys. Those little suckas are everywhere down here, hiding in the beautiful karst caves, just looking for a friendly face to attack!

I'm getting out of here, next stop, Northern Thailand city of Changmai, and then off to Laos.

That's right,

Here

now. Amazing, they are closing the internet cafe. I have to go, I am well.

Eye Candy and Lung Poison

I woke up my first morning in Thailand, and got my world rearranged. On a stroll outside my suburban guest house I was immediately accosted by stray dogs and barefoot children. Rickety shacks stood side by side with oppulent upper middle class mansions, and the sidewalk was littered with trash and nasty/gorgeous food stalls. It was 7:30 in the morning but I was already sweaty as hell and the streets were crowded and I was constantly dodging suicidal scooters, dare devil 3 wheeler "tuk-tuks" and trucks that wanted me dead.

I wasn't in the tourist section of Bangkok, I was rocking the suburbs and I was the only white guy around. The purpose of my morning excursion was to get some excercise. In fact the mission of my entire Asian journey is to LOSE SOME WEIGHT. I know I say I want adventure, and to experience a new culture, and do research for my show about China, but seriously, I'm hear to get fit. I'm sick of sitting behind a desk, and then sitting at a computer, then sitting on a couch, enough sitting already. I'm sick of eating pizza every frickin day because I'm too busy and lazy to eat better.

I quickly realized that going for a jog was impossible, it's too crowded and the exhaust was killing me, within an hour my lungs felt like they had smoked three packs of unfiltered cigarettes. I got off the road and found an upscale shopping center complete with a fancy exclusive sports club.

They asked for my identification and room number and I waved them off with a "do you know who I am" air of confidence. I got in no problemo, the old 'act like you own the place' works in S.E. Asia too. So I played basketball for an hour in the killer Thai sun. A little work out a day, I'm gonna stick to it! Then too cool off, I went into Starbucks to wait for the air con to dry my shirt. I didn't buy a damn thing though, screw you Howard Shultz, you'll never get my money!

I figured out the transit situation and headed downtown. Bangkok was much more beautiful than I had imagined. I had the image of a really gritty city that was far more nasty than facinating. But it really is gorgeous, the architecture of the temples is amazing, and there's almost always something interesting to look at, even the dirtiest of alley have ornate doorways.

I took the river taxi to Khao San, which is the Backpacker Baccinalia of SE Asia. I was looking for a place to stay that had a pool. It's a hundred degrees! In my searches I made friends with a couple American girls who were teachers in Taiwan, who were vacationing in Thailand. We shopped for a bit and then hit the happy hour. BEER is 30 Cents a glass!!! This isn't going to help my weight loss plans. My new friends, Sonja and Stephanie were on their last days in Bangkok and wanted to live it up a bit. They said it was time for thai massages, and I looked at my watch, and they were right, it was indeed massage time! I didn't do the acrobatic and dangerous looking Thai massage, opting instead for the western friendly oil massage, which my new friends said was the best. It was one of the greatest hours in the history of my life. It cost $7 dollars. DAMN!!!

There was more drinking and shopping and eating, the food is great, but nothing has made me re-examine my faith in god yet. At the end of the night, I bid my new friends adieu and headed home. Just then a young woman, who looked pretty normal really, came up to me and asked:

"Hey where are you going?"

"Just catching the bus," I said.

She switched from friendly girl on the street to the incredible hulk in a second flat, grabbed me by the arm with both hands and shouted, "You come with me!"

I had to pull my arm away and run! That was way more agressive than I had anticipated, I know Bangkok is famous for it's sex tourism but I hadn't seen any of it up until that point, and it surprised the shit out of me.

Day 2 in Bangkok was much like the first, without any clutching hooker incidents to report. However I did tempt fate by taking a scooter ride to my new place by the river. My scooter driver was a bit of fatty with a limp, so I should have said no, especially when the helmet didn't fit. We weaved in and out of traffic and since my scooter driver was so huge I had a hard time fitting my arms around him, but his weight offset the huge backpack I had on. Since his frame was so damn wide, my knees jut way off to the side and as he squeezed between the cars I nearly got my knee caps taken off by side mirrors. It cost 200 Thai Bhat, which was kind of a rip off, but still Best ROLLERCOASTER ride Ever!

I played a little frisbee with Sonja at the giant Lumpini Park and watched a lot of hilarious dance routines, I guess in Thailand, you don't have to pay for rehearsal space when you're a choreographer, everyone just practices in the park. I visited the apotheosis of all relining Buddhas, pictured above, and thought of Erika and Emmy who had visited the same spot not too long ago. I miss my friends back home, but Bangkok is a blast, I think I'll stay for a few more days. After that, uh, I don't know, I just need to get to China eventually.

Touchdown Bangkok

It's 90 degrees at night and I am already one seriously sweaty Italian. I feel the heat and the sweat will be a running theme.

The flights were long and harrowing and full of kids and shifty monks (not shifty looking, they were just adjusting their robes) , but I managed to sleep a lot, now I'm wide awake at 3am watching Turkey v. Germany with some other backpackers.

I arrived at the guesthouse and only got slightly ripped off by the taxi driver. The guesthouse is nice, but the mosquitoes have found my ankles, told all friends and the feast has begun.

Tomorrow I'll check out the city if I don't sleep all day.

Travel Blog- Mr. Mark Siano goes to China

Lately I've been using site solely to promote my shows! But now it's time to re-introduce the blog as--

TRAVEL JOURNAL!!!!

In just a few days I'm taking a plane to Bangkok. I will arrive there and try not to crumble. I have a place to stay just on the outskirts of the city for 3 nights. After that . . .

I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING!!! Somehow I have to get to China

All these big shows I've been doing lately have left me with precious little time to prepare, so I'm just gonna have to wing it. My tentative plan is this: Arrive in Bangkok June 25th, do whatever the hell I like in SE Asia for a couple weeks. Make my way to Hanoi Vietnam, visit Halong Bay and Cat Ba island. Then cross via land from Vietnam into China. Go to the amazing city of Guilin with it's spectacular karst tower mountains (pictured above) and then take a really really long train ride to Beijing. In Beijing I will meet up with my best friend Erika (who has the best blog in the world, check it!), and we will cavort around and I will watch the Olympic games. Then we'll hopefully return to Seattle safe and sound August 18th.

Let's see if things go according to plan shall we. I promise you the following things. I will not run towards sand storms, tsunamis, or typhoons (did I mention I'm visiting during typhoon season)! I will drink chicken liqour, and I will do my darndest not to end up in a Chinese prison.

Mark Siano and The Freedom Dancers Return to the Re-Bar June 13 and 14

After blowing the doors off of Chop Suey in a massive explosion of spectacular softness, Mark Siano and The Freedom Dancers return to their beloved space at Seattle's world renowned Re-Bar. The Soft Rock Explosion drew hundreds of people to Chop Suey, the place was sold out and jam packed, people were turned away, and even the cops showed up! Apparently we violated the Seattle City ordinance for TOO MUCH SWAYZE!

So we're doing it again, and we're doing it well, and we'll be as Swayze as we wanna be!

SOFT ROCK EXPLOSION
Mark Siano and the Freedom Dancers
Friday June 13rd, Saturday June 14th at 8 PM

Re-Bar, 1114 Howell St, Seattle, WA 98101
21+, $12 at the door, or Brown Paper Tickets:
www.brownpapertickets.com/event/34077
or 1-800-838-3006

SOFT ROCK EXPLOSION is a crowd-pleasing, cabaret-style song and dance spectacular, the event features flashy dance numbers, original music and soft rock sing-a-longs led by a 7-piece band, music videos, stand-up and sketch comedy, and as always, a lot of ridiculously sexy people in ridiculously sexy outfits.

The Freedom Dancers are Joey Chapman, Laura DiMarco, Andrea Ford, Abigail Guay, Joanna Hardie, Lieta Siano, and Mara Siciliano.

Mark Siano: Up in your Inbox

Mark Siano is 10 times as big as Duran Duran

According to the Seattle Weekly. The big show is at Chop Suey May 3rd, at 8pm!

Poor little Duran Duran, they're so small!

SOFT ROCK EXPLOSION! Mark Siano and The Freedom Dancers

All new song and dance spectacular May 3rd at Chop Suey.

LEGENDS IN THEIR OWN MINDS-The Habit Strikes Back

March 21, 22, 28, 29, 8pm. Ticket at the door only, First Come first seated. Rendezvous Jewel Box Theater in Seattle's Belltown.

Shake your Body: Bollywood Parody

SPARKLE!

SOFT ROCK EXPLOSION!

NEW SHOW!!! I've just booked the biggest gig of my life. I'll be doing an all new Soft Rock Show at Chop Suey on May 3rd, that's Saturday night at one of Seattle's best venues. I need to attract hundreds of people, so bring your whole family, even the cousins you hate.

It's the SOFT ROCK EXPLOSION! Witness the incredible explosion of Mount St. Soft Rock.

Pic

Mr. Dobosh in a Floridian rainstorm.

Seattle Weekly reviews Mark Siano

SEATTLE WEEKLY REVIEW

http://seattleweekly.com/2007-12-05/arts/details-on-that-holiday-show-you-ve-gotta-see.php

In this mostly autobiographical one-man show, writer/performer Mark
Siano puts a comic spin on a history of failed relationships, drug
abuse, and college underachievement. Like many comedians, Siano
really, really wants us to like him, and we're happy to oblige. The
whole performance, in fact, has the feel of a class reunion, listening
to an old friend reminisce about those crazy college days.
Regrettably, though, I wasn't in on the jokes, and his sly references
to his friends worked better for, well, his friends. Yet it's hard not
to be impressed by Siano's enthusiasm and, perhaps more significantly,
his talents as a lyricist. High Times' high points are undoubtedly the
original songs—most notably his ode to everyone's favorite big box,
"Wal-Mart Is My Bitch." Siano is one of the most relentlessly
enthusiastic storytellers I've seen, and he certainly doesn't lack for
stories. BRENT ARONOWITZ