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It's summer in Gainesville, and the city is on fire.
Gas prices keep our windows down and our wallets empty. Economic woes are making us sweat even when we're out of the heat. Some men, it seems, just want to see the world burn.

So what do we do? Do we place our hopes in an idealist politician to clean up the streets? Do we channel our fear to fight our enemies on our own terms? Or do we simply ask...
...WHY SO SERIOUS?

Come laugh away your worries with a wild night of FREE improv comedy with Theatre Strike Force. Starting Friday night, people will laugh.

Meet us at the auditorium (room 1064) in Weimer Hall, the journalism building that is located across the North Lawn from the Reitz Union. Show starts at 10 p.m., and seats are first come, first serve, so get there early!

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"Mission accomplished."  

Not since "premature ejaculation" have two words jumped the gun more.

We did it, troops! With four shows booked at dorms across  campus, I think it's safe to say we're well on our way in liberating campus residents from the hands of tyranny... the tyranny of not having enough improv shows.


It all begins this Sunday, July 20, at 5:30 p.m., when TSF will entertain the residents of Springs Residential Complex during an afternoon barbecue. Afterwards, we'll regroup at the Beaty Towers Commons at 8 p.m. for another show for a group of high school students.

On the evening of Wednesday, July 23, we'll move into the Murphree Area to perform as part of MAC's Alcohol Awareness program, which runs from 7:30 to 11:30 p.m.

A week later, on Wednesday, July 30, TSF will resurface at the Jennings Basement for a show at 8 p.m.

So tear down that statue of Albert A. Murphree! Paint those thumbs! Tighten the crotch harness on that flightsuit, because TSF's got a full-scale invasion on its hands!

Soon enough, we'll be kicking down your door in the middle of the night and screaming at you to watch us do improv. Now, you can enjoy shows that stretch on for years and years, with no real exit strategy. And if you thought Abu Ghraib was fun, just wait until you see what we'll do with our games "Moving Bodies" and "Slideshow!"

USA's got IRAQ; TSF's got IRHA. With any luck, our IR-- will like us better.

Stop on by, now.

Erik Voss is the president of Theatre Strike Force. He studied international relations from stall graffiti in dormitory bathrooms.

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About a month ago I was riding the bus home late at night with a friend when we happened to meet a girl. She was a student; reserved yet outgoingly friendly. She had the relaxed charm of a chain smoker, but she didn't smoke. And she had an accent.

...e-yah-yah-yah!

We talked with her the whole ride home, but despite our fun conversation, her subtle flirts, and the supportive set-ups from my friend, I completely stalled. The kid with noseplugs at the top of the water slide. I couldn't make a move.

Afterwards, my friend asked me why I tanked. I responded that I didn't know what to say. Knowing that I'm an improviser, he said, "Dude, you do improv. IMPROVISE!"

He had me there. One of the supposed benefits of doing improv is increased spontaneity in social situations. Many companies nowadays offer improv workshops to help employees relax in interpersonal settings and learn to communicate with others more directly. We say improv is like life -- if I can perform a scene where I'm hitting on a girl, why can't I do it in real life?

I think there's a lot of pressure on improvisers to be "masters of social situations." My family thinks I have a response to everything. Employers see "improv training" on the resume and expect a cool guy who sits in the chair backwards and can make a brick laugh. Non-improv friends expect us to be the life of the party and get lots of girls.

Is this the case? No! I'm single and I usually bore the hell out of everyone at parties by talking about improv too much. Job interviews suck for me because I immediately feel guilty whenever I say something good about myself. And I've gained ten pounds from all the times I've stuffed my mouth with food to avoid talking at family dinners.

Hell, I can't even order a pizza on the phone without a script.

"Hello, this is Five Star, is this for delivery or pickup?"
"I... don't... know..."
Click.

A lot of us do improv precisely because it isn't real. We play pretend on stage, and if we're lucky, people laugh at us. I know I'm never going to be a badass surgeon who performs a heart transplant while wearing a leather jacket and making out with the nurses. (Is a leather jacket still cool? It's not exactly environmentally-friendly.) But I can totally do that in a scene if I want to. There's a safety net on stage where it's okay to make mistakes, to look ridiculous.

On the bus, making mistakes is a bad thing. (Unless this is the Magic Schoolbus. Remember, Ms. Frizzle is a teacher, not a lover.) "Funny" and "quirky" do not necessarily mean "sexy." Every line, every gesture, every nervous tick at the corner of your mouth counts, and anything can make or break the situation. Sexy foreign girls are typically less forgiving than an audience who wants to be entertained.

Improvisers are not by definition "cool people." Many cool people do improv, sure, but so do many weirdos.

We aren't jaded by being in front of audiences all the time. Our hearts pound just as fast as the heart of the shy girl who's reading her love poem in front of her 7th grade English class, with the poem's subject sitting in the front row. We're just normal people who try to do something extraordinary.

In the end, though, we're still just normal people.

Erik Voss is the president of Theatre Strike Force, but can't use the potty by himself.

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There are a few hobbies among improvisers that are universal.

The most popular seem to be an interest in past and present comedy happenings, an ethereal admiration for movies and a wealthy posession of random facts.  That mishmash of information has one night where it can recieve the spotlight it deserves: Trivia Night.

Every Tuesday, a few of us unite to test our trivial prowress at ******'*, and for three hours we grapple with the greater questions of society today.  Questions like, "What 80s TV show dared to do a sixth season after losing most of its cast and writers?" or "How many pieces of flair were required at the restaurant Jennifer Aniston worked at in Office Space, and how many did she have?"

We celebrate with predicted joy at every correct answer.  At every wrong answer, exclamations of "Noo!" pierce the night air, upset eyes swing toward whoever supplied that answer and mental scores are quickly tabulated to determine the leader.  Why so serious?  The stakes: steaks.

"What fictional TV character drives an ice cream truck covered in human skulls, sweats Gatorade and once saw scissor-kicked Angela Lansbury?"

That's right.  The winners of the knowledge bout get their tabs picked up for free by night's end.  So steaks and margaritas are deliciously downed yet cautiously.  Despite large lead margin, everyone fears the sudden shift in points when their free meal becomes a $50 burden.

"What 80s horror movie had the tag line, 'Be afraid.  Be very afraid.'?"

A period of dangerous suspicion always arises around the 2-hour mark when teams begin to enter the home stretch.  On the surface, players are generally friendly and polite.  In actuality, they create conspiracies of cheating by backroom booths and curse quietly when others pull closer.

"What 1968 Rex Harrison movie musical was remade in 1998 to an Eddie Murphy comedy?"

Our paranoia is relaxed by one of the trivia helpers who bears a striking resemblance to Rashida Jones, who plays Karen Filippelli on The Office.  She's frequently beating every team playing, even though she can't legally play (probably).   Her tacit nature offsets the the gaudy male emcee who reminds me of Steve Harwell, lead singer of Smashmouth, for some reason.

"Where was Oceanic flight 815 headed before it crashed?"

I enjoy the danger of losing the free check.  Others fret and stop ordering when the lead is called into question.  So far we've never had to pay the consequence of over confidence.  We've won every time.

"From the TV show Scrubs, what is Dr. Turk's first name?"

So, come Tuesday, we'll gather our Gainesvegas forces again to defend our trivia title.  It is becoming an excellent way to pass the summer.  Who ever said improv wouldn't win you free things?

Trivia Answers:
1. ǝʌıl ʇɥƃıu ʎɐpɹnʇɐs
2. uǝǝʇɟıɟ & uǝǝʇɟıɟ
3. ʎʞsɐɹq llıq
4. ʎlɟ ǝɥʇ
5. ǝlʇʇılop˙ɹp
6. sǝlǝƃuɐ sol
7. ɹǝɥdoʇsıɹɥɔ

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A few days ago I got the most exciting of the Facebook notifications: the +1 Friend Request. Upon clicking the link, I suddenly found myself gazing into the low-res eyes of my father's work ID picture.

Example of what kind of picture my dad used as his main profile pic. Randi G. Hiller is not my dad, despite any resemblances.

After a hesitant accepting of his request (and an adjustment of my
Privacy and Limited Profile settings), I clicked through to the book
that belongs to my dad's face and found one of the grossest misuses of social networking. He's trying to reconnect our family.

Linked from his page I was able to find profiles for my uncles, aunts, and my dad's best friends. These baby boomers (of whom my dad, born in 1947, isn't even the oldest) are reaching out to what Money magazine tells them is a cool way to connect to your kids, DiGiTaLLy!

My dad actually has twice as many applications as I do without any full understanding of what they are for. He regularly shows our difference in age and mentality by scrubbing his Facebook wall free of all comments and returning it to a nice, egg-shell white.

My dad's transition into being the cool dad isn't exactly going smoothly, but I did find a video on my cousin's Facebook (yes, found her through dad's Fb.) proving that the cool parent is not a myth. They exist, can be obnoxiously cute, and perhaps are at a level that allows them to connect more deeply to their kids. Keep reaching for those Raybans, Dad.

Read on to see the World's Milfiest Dancer / Cool Mom (TM). [CREEP-ALERT]

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Hey everyone,

Erik Voss here. I'm currently studying abroad in London, spending the first half of my summer visiting museums, seeing plays on the West End, frequenting pubs... and going bankrupt in the process. Since every dollar is only worth half a pound, I'm twice as bankrupt as I thought I was.

The only thing I haven't been doing is improv. None. My talk radio call-in name would be "Improv-less in London." I'm taking a much-needed hiatus from an obsessive two-year relationship with the mother of all ball-and-chains, which we know as Theatre Strike Force.

But enough creepy romance metaphors (I've got issues). The day when the Strike Force dragon wakes up from its Summer A hibernation and purges the sinful is rapidly approaching. The Summer B semester at UF begins in July, and with it, our improv class, TPP 3124, goes back into session for those overachieving upper-classmen and "special" Summer B freshmen who are stuck in town over the summer. That means improv with TSF will go from being a wet dream to an awkward reality.

So if you'll be in Gainesville this July, check out TSF. Register for the class -- it's a lot of fun and a great way to spend those long, summer days. And it's in an air conditioned acting studio in the Nadine Maguire, a cool sanctuary from the assault of swampy heat outside. We'll also be doing some after-hours jamming sessions; look out for those as well. I also want to look into doing some sketch, for all those writers out there.

We'll keep you posted. Check your e-mails, the Web site and the Facebook group for notifications about any developments over the summer, and for news about the upcoming year.

Now, back to sobbing over the heartbreaking pound/dollar exchange rate.

Though we know it's TSF that really broke my heart...

Regards,

Erik Voss

Erik Voss is the President of Theatre Strike Force, but he still makes his mother dress him every morning.

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I was talking with Maxx Mann, who recently fought and defeated the Epstein-Barr virus, and he mentioned previous TSF historian Kate Matarese held a caption contest back in 2006.

Well, now that the 18th Amendment has been repealed and photos are legal again, the Caption Contest is back!

We take the most peculiar snapshots and invite you to come up with the best caption - a phrase, a summary, a bit of dialogue, etc.  So get ahead and get a move on!  The submissions cut-off will be after Wednesday at midnight.

http://apps.facebook.com/theatrestrikeforce/caption01.php

The winner will recieve some prize yet-to-be-determined.  Only current members in TSF are eligible for prizes, though comments are welcome from anyone.

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As I prepare to be Crystal Skull-F'ed tonight, I have to admit, I'm seeing this movie more because it's my civic duty.

Anytime an established American franchise spits a frontier style PING! into the face of the Nazis/Russians (or really, the Brits... We prefer our drinks whipped, Mr. Bond) I feel like I have to go, just for the obligatory U.S.A. chant at the end. People still do that, right? Ok, good.

I still regret not making my parents conceive me five years earlier, so I could've gotten this out in the 1980 Olympics.

That said, the only movie I remain truly excited for is The Dark **********ing Knight.

For all you Batfan-boys, here's a trailer for an Animatrix style DVD being released a few weeks before the film. Normally, I'm not a fan of anime, but by the Ark of the Covenant, this looks bad ass.

Batman Gotham Knight - Official Trailer

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This past Saturday, TSF was represented by 3 different teams at the Moe's Burrito Eating Contest. The teams ("EMoe's," "Team Chris Mullet," and "Theatre Strike Force") were mostly competing against themselves, as the fastest player on each team to eat 3 Moo Moo Mr. Cow burritos, won Free Burritos for a Year.
While all the members of the EMoe's and Team Chris Mullet were in it to win it, Team Theatre Strike Force did what it does best and rigged their own competition in order to guarantee team member, Filup Molina, free burritos for a year. Molina, a too old to still be in school TSF member, recently paid his way back into UF and wiped out his bank account in the process. TSF was there for him and have guaranteed that he will die young and obese, but with his appetite fully satiated.

Filup represented Strike Force well by placing fourth overall out of 150 contestants.

Check out the article I wrote about it for my reporting class:

"Kid-sized burritos too much for some at eating contest"
by RICHARD KLOPFENSTEIN

The best part about losing on purpose is how badly you get to do it.

Read on for pictures of the various methods Strike Force members used to lose.

Read more...

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The TSF website has been completely redesigned from the ground up.
You might have noticed.

Anyway, take a look around, get comfortable, this is your home now. We've finally decided to pay some attention to website design and have hopped on the current trend of fully integrating a blog into your website. Being such gloryhogs, sharing what we write with all 14000 people on the internet was a no-brainer.

The major difference with this design is that the blog is not simply for TSF's diary entries--

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Dear blog,

It's hard being a not-for-profit. I think I'm quickly falling for another organization... She's brilliant, sexy, useful and rich. But alas, Google and I just come from different sides of the digital tracks (|==|==|==|==|==|==|). That kinda looks like a penis, hee.
--

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TSF's such a perv. The blogs also serve as a quick way to post interactive updates for various categories. For example, if you are browsing the "Shows" page, you'll be kept up to date with upcoming shows, get a recap of some of our bigger shows from the stage perspective, and be able to leave comments telling us what you thought as well.

We've done our best to create some back log blogs (b-log blogs?) but keep revisiting the site as we'll constantly be generating more material. In the meantime, take a look around and try to get a feel for the girl.

See ya,

TSF

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