Each year, all (entertainment-based) freelancers for The Washington City Paper are invited to contribute a fake band/artist/writer/event for the April 1st issue (streets today). The winning entry is thrown into the goodtime-haps-around-town section (”City Lights”) to confuse the reader. My entry did not win. Here is the weak-ass shit:

Andrew Dice Clean
Billed as “The World’s Only PG-Rated Andrew Dice Clay Impersonator,” Andrew Dice Clean (aka Andrew Dice Clean) jumps the tracks of his busy itinerary for two nights at (insert venue here). Normally, if one was looking, they would find Dice Clean tearing up Super 8 banquet rooms, corporate potlucks, rehab “special days,” youth group lock-ins, and birthday parties for the elderly or crippled. One thing he does “tear up” is his trademark foam “stress ball,” squeezed ad infinitum in place of his inspiration’s omnipresent (lit) cigarette. Don’t miss these “whelming” bits: “The Other Day This Female Acquaintance Is Signing The Invoice At My Courier Job,” “So This Girl Might Be Lookin’ In My Direction,” “What Is It With These, You Know, These ‘You Know What’s?’” and the highly controversial, career-destroying, “The Other Day, This Lady Friend Is Given’ Me What Might Be Termed An Over-The-Jeans Handjob.”