Filthy Song Night 2016

When you think of December, what comes to mind? The onset of a long, cold winter? The hustle and bustle of the holiday season? How about the return of your favorite annual filthy song competition? For dozens of fans of the lewd and crude from Brooklyn and beyond, December means saving the best of the worst for the last month of the year, thanks to Filthy Song Night at Jalopy Theatre. Returning for its 8^th year, Karen “Frisky” Poliski hosted this contest between a baker’s dozen musical acts, with three guest comedians and a collection of awards that any filthy songster would be proud to hang on the wall—a framed pair of ripped, dirty tighty-whities being the raunchiest possible alternative to a lustrous gold statue or pristine blue ribbon.

After Poliski opened the show singing Park Slope Moms—the song that started it all—last year’s “trampion” Tsanos returned with his incredibly funny (and equally filthy) spoof of The Little Drummer Boy, recalling an orgy with a nun, a clown and even a goat. If you ever thought the phrase “rum pum pum pum” would make for a good safe word, then this show is for your kind of people.

This year’s first competitor was Milly Raccoon and her Bow, with a song about her Gender Bending Baby, setting the stage (no pun intended) for a tough contest. Newcomer Kristine upped the ante with Little Purple Grape, a poem about hemorrhoids that took home second-place. Third to the stage was Mungancourt (see photo) with a parody of the Oompa-Loompa song that would have dumbfounded even the creepiest Willy Wonka, followed by Mark Kilianski’s Ain’t Gettin’ You Shit for Christmas and Mary Poipon’s Pooper-Phallic-Rectum-Lipstick-Felching-Halitosis. And rounding out the first segment, Uncle Roy’s Van reminisced about his childhood, watching his uncle have his way with a Porker Behind the Barn.

Taking a break from the music, comedian Tommy Amado recalled the time he dated a woman that had a very special relationship with her Labrador Retriever, recovering comic Joe DiPiazza expounded upon the “joys” of being sober, and Nate Demming told a “purely hypothetical” tale about hooking up with one’s cousin during a holiday visit—giving new meaning to the phrase “family get-together.” In between sets, our host Poliski performed winning songs from years past: Flog and Log and Deep Throating. Could things get any more filthy? You bet—read on!

Starting off the second half (dubbed the Filthy Song Circle Jerk), Steve Sasso performed the expertly-crafted Masturbate at Work—the song that would have no doubt won the competition, if it had ended there. He was followed by Cory and Artie (and Gomez) with 1000 Ways to Take a Shit, and Poliski’s own entry for the year, The Island of Puba. Next, reigning trampion Chris Tsanos returned to the stage with I Blew Out A Shit While Puking—possibly the most filthy song (literally) of the night. After every performance, Poliski reminded us to “give the artist the clap” as a sign of our appreciation for the creativity (and bravery) that goes into writing and performing such obscenities for a crowd full of friends and strangers. But one song that carried no risk of shame was You Can Play My Guitar, a delightful work of innuendo by Liz Rabson Schnore that would make Benny Bell most proud.

The final contestant, Sam Kulik, took the stage with Triple Xmas, a song about the Christmas-themed pornography enjoyed by lonely, divorced dads everywhere. And it would be easy to cry that singing last has its advantages, but we’re certain that this song would have won the night even if Sam had gone first. Winning the contest by a landslide, Sam’s incredibly creative (and detailed) lyrics and nearly deadpan delivery easily deserved the prize, despite some tough competition from practically every other number in the show.

Five of the performers returned to the stage with encores as the votes were tallied, then supporting staff member Corin toasted all of the participants with a reading of the story Jolly Saint Pimp. Poliski then presented an especially-phallic Commemorative Shaft Award to the Whiskey Spitters as retribution for not getting their just deserts in seasons past, and this year’s winners were announced to cheers from the crowd.

Maybe it’s a shame that Filthy Song Night, like Christmas, only comes once-a-year (no pun intended). Then again, maybe it’s not. You might have missed your chance this month, but if you’re not easily offended by the raunchiest lyrics you can possibly imagine, put FSN on your wish list for next year’s holiday season, and gift yourself a ticket in 2017.

And if your friends’ senses of humor are as disgusting as your own, stuff their stockings (this time, pun intended!) next year with admission to Jalopy Theatre, too!

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