February 22, 2007

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Lisa Lampanelli, Dirty Girl
Warner Bros Records, 2007

If Bedford, NH’s Sarah Silverman has a voice in her pretty and pretty disgusting head it probably sounds a lot like Lisa Lampanelli’s. The 45-year-old Connecticut comedienne (are people even supposed to genderize that term anymore?) is about to experience the height of her 15 minutes, which so far has consisted of a bleep-fest showcase on Comedy Central and guest shots on Howard Stern pitching in to roast Baba Booey and Daniel Carver. A fat cigar is her answer to Roseanne’s bag of Cheetos; she peers at it evilly between spurts of sandblasting her audience members one by one and gay couple by gay couple, roaring epithets directly at the anybodies unlucky enough to be near the stage front. The riffs on this CD (or DVD, depending on your wallet’s mood, though do keep in mind this is mostly the Seattle show captured by Comedy Central) extol the anti-virtues of dope-slapped intolerance, letting her inner any-penis-is-a-good-penis hate-mongering broad hang out, a Dice Clay starved for estrogen. Like Dice, Lampanelli distances herself from her own politically suicidal vitriol by referring to herself in the third person, signaling that even she may not be ready to handle all this stuff, not that everyone hasn’t thunk it, or parts thereof, at one point or another. A- Eric W. Saeger