Charlotte’s Shorts won the ENCORE! Producer’s Award at the 2016 Hollywood Fringe Festival, which means we will be BACK for 2 more shows on July 30th & 31st. Get your tickets HERE!



Charlotte’s Shorts in Hollywood Fringe Festival!

Tickets go on sale May 1st @

The Proposal read by Laraine Newman

@The Groundlings

July 29, 2014

Filmed by: Ron Sarfaty

The Undergroundhog

Lorelai was the most beautiful undergroundhog in all the underground. She had big puffy lips and her hair was so long she almost tripped on it all the time. She had no muffin tops or pimples at all. Not even one.

All the hot undergroundhog guys were totally into her. They carried her books and gave her gum. Everyone wanted to date her because she looked so much like Beyonce. That is everyone except for Pretzel.

Pretzel was Lorelai’s best friend. She really tried to like Lorelai, but like all best friends, she secretly hated her. Pretzel’s hair was chunky and short and she barely had any lips at all. No one ever gave Pretzel any gum. She wanted Lorelai gone.

One day, Prezel convinced Lorelai that she could be a model, but in order to do so, she’d have to run away and leave the underground.

Pretzel and Lorelai came out of the underground and walked over to the main road to New York City. Lorelai hugged Pretzel goodbye and started off down the road. A few seconds later, a big 18 wheeler truck came by and squashed Lorelai into the ground.

Pretzel cut the long hair from Lorelai’s smushed up body and made herself some realistic looking extensions. That night, she got pregnant for the first time.

Kids: If you want to be happy, you have to work for it. No one will love you for who you are unless you’re better than you are.

And remember, if you’re pretty, don’t ever leave your hole.

The end.

Roommate Needed

If you’re reading this, I am still looking for a housemate. Please only respond if you are neat, drama free, single… and black. Race does not matter to me at all, but please be black. Also, must be open-minded.

Ideal housemate would be a funny, warm, educated, professional, beefy/athletic or at least somewhat fit man. I’m definitely looking for someone shy… or outgoing. Someone to have fun with, laugh with, and roughhouse with – a pal to chill with and a potential best friend. I’m open to being soul mates as well. But really, just friends is fine too.

Please do not contact me unless you are a normal person. You know what I mean. Regular normal. Not crazy normal. An emotionally and physically available, passionate man. It is okay if you are a foreigner, but please be black. For some reason Ukranian men keep replying to this ad. If you are not black PLEASE do not respond!

I’m smart and kind, and full of life. I don’t need any more disappointment. I am unique and virtuous. You must be as well. I like to work as a team. You do the dishes and I’ll dry them. Or, you know… I just don’t want this to be one of those roommate situations where you go sleep in your room and I sleep in mine.

I’m ready for some new adventures. Maybe we fall asleep in the living room watching Scrubs some nights- I don’t know. I have more canned goods than anyone you have ever met I promise. Really it’s like a store over here! Email me. There will be gifts.



The New Girl

There was a new girl in my art class today. I think she is about three. She is funny and sweet and had no problems with the other kids. She had so much fun in art and participated the whole time. We made temporary sculptures from objects we found around the room. We stacked them up, taped them together, and then took them apart and did it again. This new girl made a particularly successful sculpture of a small boy doll taped between two pieces of plastic bread.

After art class and lunch, most of the kids take naps. A few kids go home early. This girl was one of the kids leaving early. Her mom would be arriving in a few minutes. Seemingly out of the blue, she starts crying out that she misses her mom and she wants her mom to hold her. I tell her that she is in luck because her mom will be coming in a few minutes and she will give her a big hug. Still crying, she looks me in the eye, and very clearly, like she is explaining something to a one or two year old says: “I know but I want her to hold me right now,” and then starts crying even harder. I rubbed her back and told her I knew how hard it was to miss your mom and then I told her that when she saw her mom she could tell her about all the fun things she had done. She looked up at me hopelessly, so clearly thinking: “you just don’t get it.”

She was really suffering. She wasn’t scared that her mom had forgotten her, or that she wouldn’t show up. She was just expressing with absolutely no shame at all, how much it hurt her that she couldn’t have what she wanted most at that moment. It was heartbreaking, but also so beautiful. She hasn’t yet learned to hide her feelings because they don’t make sense to other people.

I picked up a book and started reading it to her. Still whimpering, she climbed in my lap and listened. I had just about finished the book when her mom showed up. At the sound of her mom’s voice, a huge smile broke out across the girls face. She jumped out of my lap, sprinted towards her mother, and leapt up into her arms. Her mom asked her if she had fun and she said “yes, but I was very sad because I needed you to hold me and you weren’t here. Then she sighed and said “I’m better now, but I’m still a little sad.”

Here is the sculpture she made:

G.I. Jeremy

Dear Friends who know the REAL me,
As most of you already know, four months ago, Cindi, aka the love of my life, tore my living breathing heart right out of my chest and beat it to death. So. These past few months have been the worst of my life. I am eating crap and all of my clothes are dirty. Really. I am wearing my mom’s sweatpants. I am also being evicted. So. I decided it was time for me to move on and up with my life. I have ‘til the end of the month.  So. Do any of you guys know ANY females? If you do, have them fill out this questionnaire and email me their answers along with a current full body photo. ASAP.

The Chance of a Lifetime with Jeremy Hoober Questionnaire:

  1. Do you have your own pad?
  2. Do you like to cook and clean?
  3. What is your name?
  4. Do you complain a lot or do you suffer in silence?
  5. Are you friends with or do you know my ex girlfriend, Cindi?
  6. If you are, why did she break up with me?
  7. Do you have a nice computer?
  8. Do you like to play World of Warcraft?
  9. Do you like to watch people play World of Warcraft?
  10. Would you say you’re more slutty or more old fashioned?
  11. Would you be on top most of the time?
  12. Do you have kids?
  13. Do you know class when you see it?
  14. Do you agree that a relationship isn’t over until we BOTH say it’s over?
  15. Are you a hard twerker? Just kidding. But really. Can you twerk?

Thanks for your help guys! Keep it real- G.I. Jeremy

The Day I Started Writing It Down


When I woke up, I met Dr. Joseph K. Wilson. He told me I had been in a bad bad accident and I was in a coma for six days. I asked if that was a long time and that was when he realized I had lost some connectors in my brain. He said I forgot many things but I don’t feel like things are missing until he tells me they are. Like numbers. Dr. Joseph K. Wilson said to make lists of things I do remember. I still have not finished writing them all down. He asked me to count the pages I had written so far and I said there were three and he said there were two hundred and eleven. I cannot count anymore. When I try to count I am scared and feel dizzy. He says I do not have to count anymore. He is protecting me and keeping me safe. 

I remember things from before the bad bad accident. Dr. Joseph K. Wilson is trying to know what things I remember and why I remember them and not others. I remember people and places and smells and dreams and Superman and the moon. I remember school and Ms. Sherman and her parrot Sherman and reading Animal Farm. I remember the light brown eyes of the boy who stepped on my tuna sandwich and got angry with me because he had tuna on his shoe. I remember that the smell of vanilla makes me throw up. Dr. Joseph K. Wilson asked me if I remembered learning about gravity. I said I did. I remember the word gravity and my blue science book called Science 1 & 2 with a picture of a rainbow coming out of a prism on the cover. I remember Mr. Marks saying the word gravity and talking about the Earth; the planet where I live. Dr. Joseph K. Wilson asked me if I knew what gravity was and told me to think really hard about it. I tried but I felt dizzy again and I wanted to stop thinking about it. He told me to try harder but I told him I could not breathe and then he let me rest. 

He gave me cookies and cream ice cream and I felt better. After eating my ice cream I asked him why did it matter if I remembered gravity. Dr. Joseph K. Wilson told me that I am special. He said he did not know it at first. He said that when he met me he thought I might not be able to walk anymore. I told him that he was right. I cannot walk. He said walking doesn’t matter anymore because I can fly. And flying is better than walking.




Prescription Sunglasses


The thing about sunglasses that I’ve always loved is that they make my already poor vision even worse, and in doing so, they make the world look a whole lot better. Including me. This is especially true when they are scratched up or dirty. Everyone has perfectly smooth skin and a year round tan. No one looks older than twenty-five and my car never needs to be washed. Yes, with my sunglasses on it is dare I say, a perfect world. Or it was anyway.

Today I picked up my very first pair of prescription sunglasses. Once the initial awe of being able to see during the day wore off, I realized that this might not have been such a good idea. Before, when I put my sunglasses on, no matter how shitty I felt, I always looked better. My pimples went away, my clothes all matched, and was it just my imagination or did I actually lose five pounds? With the new glasses, I look in the mirror and I just see me wearing big glasses. I see everything. And World, this does not work in your favor either. I am sorry to say that Superman and I do not have as much in common as you thought. The more I see, the more I judge.

That “hot” guy at Starbucks that always gives me a few extra shots of chai for free… well I’m not so sure I want them now. I don’t know if I want him anywhere near my drinks at all. I look at the retouched photo of Jessica Alba on the cover of my Cosmo. She still looks pretty good, but she is nothing like she used to be. Photoshop just can’t compare to my old sunglasses. I guess I never realized just how bad my vision had gotten. It happened so slowly. I thought I was just naturally developing a better attitude towards the world. Now I know things only seemed better because I am partially blind.

On the upside, I am now a much safer driver. So if you were worried about me hitting you with my big truck, then you are probably glad I added the prescription to my glasses. I can see stop signs before I run through them. I see now that it is a family with small children crossing in front of me and not an obese woman with a lot of legs. It’s true, before the new glasses, I would have probably scared the crap out of you, slamming on my brakes, coming within inches of crushing you. I could easily have run you over. But in my defense, you would have looked damn good while I did it.


If I Ever Stop Painting

A few days ago I had a dream that Janet and I gave up up on being artists and decided to start our own casting agency. Janet, who actually has had a career in casting and has worked beneath people less qualified than herself, was my assistant. It went something like this:

Janet: “So, who should we cast as the lead in “There are Too Many Bridges in Seattle?”

Me: “You know that hot guy with the mean eyes that shot Scarlett in that movie?”

Janet: “Do you mean Jonathan Rhys Meyers from the Woody Allen movie, Match Point?”

Me: “Yeah. Well, definitely not him.”

Janet: “Okay. Good. So any ideas as to who then?”

Me: “Well, I was thinking of Tom Hanks but not Tom Hanks. Like he should be hot but not so hot that it’s distracting like with Brad Pitt.”

Janet: “Right. Great. Okay, got it. Now what about the love interest?”

Me: “I really like Emma Thompson.”

Janet: “Hmm. Well, our lead is supposed to be in his early twenties and the love interest has to be around the same age.”

Me: “And?”

Janet: “Emma Thompson might be a little older than that.”

Me: “So?”

Janet: “So we might have to cast someone younger than Emma.”

Me: “Oh. That sucks.”

And so it went. In the dream, the movie was successfully cast and a huge hit at the box office. I woke up with a feeling of accomplishment but as the day went on I began to question the probability of this career outside of my dream world. I am almost obscenely gifted at forgetting names. I love movies but I hardly ever remember the names of the actors and as far as directors and producers go, my memory draws a complete blank. I know Steven Spielburg did E.T. and that is about it. It’s embarrassing really. Having grown up with an actor father and a writer/producer mother, I should know more than most. But I don’t and if I am going to go into the field of casting, I better start doing my homework.

I decided to start paying attention. I went to see “I love you, man” because Paul Rudd was in it. I watched the entire film, sat through the credits, and left the theatre knowing that Paul Rudd was in it. Oh yeah, and the Hulk. I retained nothing. I did have however, a sort of epiphany as to why credits don’t help me at all. I don’t pay attention to the character’s names in the movie either, so when the credits roll I am staring at two lists of names that have no meaning to me whatsoever. I like credits where they put the actor’s name next to his picture but I am usually so busy looking at the picture that I don’t have time to read the name.

This may sound like a perfect argument as to why I should not pursue a career in casting, but the truth is I think I would be really good at it. I am always watching movies and complaining that they cast the wrong guy as so and so’s boyfriend and that other guy with the big head from that smart action film would have been so much better. So I might cast Paul Rudd as the perverted dying grandfather and Robert Downey Junior as his son, coping with letting go of his father and trying to be supportive of Emma Thompson, his pregnant fifteen year old daughter who has just realized that she has fallen for her unsuspecting autistic swim mate, Natalie Portman. I would of course find parts for Christopher Walken and Samuel L. Jackson and everything else would fall into place. I doubt other casting experts would agree with these choices but can you honestly tell me you wouldn’t go and see that movie?