The Anthropomorphic Male

LFTI Episode 9 (Part 4 of 4)

2009-12-20T22:35:00.001-08:00

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*results may vary

LFTI Episode 9 (Part 3 of 4)

2009-12-13T22:30:00.001-08:00

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Remote Blogging

2008-12-15T14:21:00.000-08:00

What is this?! A new post?!

Yes.

I just got a new Blackberry and I wanted to see what thus whole "remote blogging" or "phone logging" or "phlogging" is all about.

This seems like the perfect day in which to do it as my computer is currently being held.hostage by a freelance job. I'm capturing 8 hours of footage and can't do anything else really until it's done.

I need another computer.

The LFTI X-Mas vido is online today. I'd post a link but...

I'm struggling enough trying to type with, essentially, my thumbnails. I look forward to many more hours of thumbnail typing. I anxiously await the phenomenon of my thumbnails growing twice as fast as the rest of my fingernails.

Anyway, look for the LFTI video!

OMG! It Hasn’t Been That Long Has It?!

2008-05-28T10:59:00.000-07:00

Oh, yes it has. Long enough for me to turn into a teenage girl and use exclamations like “OMG.”

What have I been doing that I’ve been neglecting this blog for so long, you ask? Well, I’ve been producing an online sitcom! And, I have to admit; I’ve been cheating on you with another blog. The LFTI blog.

There. I’m glad I’ve gotten that off my chest. Now we can work past it. Maybe you can go over to the LFTI blog and see my latest posts? I know, I know, they’re ALL about the dumb show, but that’s the point of that blog.

I will post blogs here again, I promise! I have to be more careful about what I say on the LFTI blog (though I’m not usually), so I want to post stuff here, really I do! I could use the outlet!

I mean, that crazy lady with the 76 kids is popping out more babies and I wasn’t around to say anything about it! Bush is still a dickhead (but really, aren’t we all just kind of coasting to the end on that one anyway, honestly?). Polygamists got busted! Polygamists! There’s a lot of stuff happening in the world that’s ripe for my ire! I just don’t always have the time.

But I WILL start posting here again, I promise. However, in the mean time, why not check out the LFTI blog? I’ve put a bunch of music on there and stuff. It’s great!

TAM

Have You Had All Your Shots?

2008-04-02T09:40:00.000-07:00

We've gone Viral!

That's right, LFTI is like an infection. Thanks to Viral on Veoh, a fantastic internet show about other internet shows.

Sunny and co-producer Josh visited the old "set" last month and talked to us a bit. here are the fruits of their labor:

You can watch it here too (higher quality on the Veoh site)!

Aren't we cool?

Thanks, Sunny!

Fun Fact: I'm the most awkward interviewee there has ever been. That's a fact.

Send in the Douchebags

2008-03-20T09:32:00.000-07:00

Don’t bother, they’re here.

Well, not here. They’re on YouTube. How do I know? Because Episode 6 of our sitcom “Life From The Inside” was just featured on the YouTube homepage, and nothing brings out the douchebags like a featured video.

Before I continue, I want to say that there are also really great people on YouTube. In fact, most of the people on YouTube are great. Unfortunately, they don’t comment as often.

I’ve commented on a few videos and such, and it can always feel a little self-serving. Like the only reason you’re commenting is to show everyone else how cool/clever/insightful/funny you are. And it’s because of that feeling that a lot of truly cool people don’t post comments. They don’t want to seem narcissistic or lame, or they see that a bunch of asshats are leaving stupid comments and they don’t want to be associated with them.

I can understand that.

Unfortunately, this means that the haters can easily take over any comments section.

See, all it takes is one douchebag to burst the douchebag dam and suddenly the entire valley is being flooded with…well…douchebags. Douchebags up to the eyeballs.

The only way to counter this kind of catastrophe is to put up a retaining wall. A levee of goodwill and constructive criticism. Raise the discourse so that the douchbags can’t spill over the top. It doesn’t take a lot.

Most douchebags are hopelessly insecure creatures. You just have to make them feel like they stick out in the crowd and they’ll shy away.

This brings me to my point. It would be very nice to have the support of real people who actually watch the show! If you have a second, go to YouTube, click on our episode and leave a comment. It doesn’t have to be glowing, just speak your mind. Only speak your mind in an intelligent fashion. Please.

Oh, and don’t forget to rate the video too! Douchebags love to give out low ratings. It doesn’t have anything to do with the quality of the video. Normal people rate videos based on a number of criteria (self-prescribed, sure). But, think of a douchebag rating system as an “erection meter.”

Plus, they seem to think that all entertainment should be geared toward them. But really, how much bikini Jell-O wrestling can people watch?

My limit is around 3 hours.

Thanks for all your support! And I just want to add that as a whole, the experience of being featured on YouTube has been a positive one! It’s hard to sit back and listen to the douchebags spout their bile, but we’ve gotten a bunch of new subscribers and they just keep coming!

It’s nice to know that there are people out there who like the show! And we love our subscribers. Really, great people.

I just wish they’d comment a little more.

Fun Fact: I forgot to update this blog yesterday to let you know that we were featured again on YouTube (after we were taken down, at around 5pm). Sorry. But you know now! And isn’t that the most important thing?

And Tanya’s birthday is Saturday! Happy Birthday, Tanya! Give her some love?

And Part 4 of Episode 6 is still coming Monday, March 24th!

YouTease

2008-03-19T10:39:00.000-07:00

Ignorance is bliss. I used to know what it was like NOT to be featured on the front page of YouTube.

Now I do.

The subscribers! The views! The publicity!

But like a nerd taken to the prom by the hottest girl in school as a joke, eventually your bubble will be burst…and in a cruel way.

Life From The Inside was about two inches from being able to sit at the cool kid’s table. So close that we could smell the name brand snack cakes.

Now we are back at the table by the door listening to tales of all-night D&D campaigns and gnawing on Little Debbies.

YouTube featured us on the front page today…for about an HOUR.

I don’t know if there was a glitch or what, but we’re gone now. We did get a bunch of new subscribers, which was very nice. I would have like to have been up longer, but I guess you take what you can?

At least I have a cool screenshot of the event as proof! That’s something! And we can ALWAYS say that we’ve been featured on the front page of YouTube!

And we will.

Fun Fact: The finale of Episode 6 will be posted on Monday! Yeah! And, who knows, maybe we’ll make the front page after all?

BetterTube

2008-03-14T10:04:00.000-07:00

Oh what a clever title!

This is just a small post to let you know a little something about YouTube. No, I'm not here to tell you that we've been featured again (Episode 6 Part 1) and that the video has received almost 240,000 views (though we are proud of that!).

I'm here to tell you about a new YouTube feature. One that they haven't rolled out to it's fullest extent yet. The "higher quality" video feature. Yes, now you can actually watch decent quality video on YouTube! It's about time!

If you look closely on some videos you'll see a little link under the view screen that reads: "watch this video in higher quality." Just click on the link and you'll see a version of the video that barely loads any slower (on high-speed connections anyway) but that looks about 200 times better.

Not all videos have this feature - at least in an obvious location.

However, ANY video on YouTube can be watched at a higher quality with just a little extra work from you. When you're on a YouTube page, just add

&fmt=18

to the end of the URL in your browser and you'll be whisked away to better living through bandwidth.

So, now I won't feel so guilty when I ask (beg) you to go to our YouTube pages and rate and comment on the sitcom ("Life From The Inside" see more at lifefromtheinside.com).

So, wouldn't this be the perfect chance to multi task? See the new high quality videos and rate and comment (favorite too!) on some of our videos! I'll start you out with the higher quality link to Episode 6 Part 2:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ru0KUZP_QKk&fmt=18

Check it out!

Fun Fact: Episode 7 is about 1/3 shot and it's already one of my favorite episodes!

Can't wait to get it online.

Episode 6 is (Finally) Here!

2008-03-03T11:43:00.000-08:00

Sorry for the delay. It won’t happen again.

Episode 6 has gone through a unique (unique for us anyway) post-production process, so it took a little longer than usual.

But it’s here now! So why not just kick back and enjoy it?

In fact, why not just kick back and enjoy it at various locations on the web. Sure, you can always enjoy it at lifefromtheinside.com, but you can also see it on YouTube, Revver, Blip, or any number of fantastic websites! And while you’re there, why not rate and comment? We would seriously love you for it.

Anyway, as you may have noticed, this episode if a bit different from the others. We shot it in HD. But the differences don’t stop there! Oh no! We’re also releasing each part one week apart! And Episode 6 has been split into 4 parts instead of just three. That’s like a whole part better! Plus, as you’ll see next week, each subsequent part of Episode 6 will include a little “previously on…” intro.

Fancy.

We begin shooting on Episode 7 this coming Sunday. So watch for that soon too! We promise, it won’t take us a small forever to get that episode up. And it’s a good one.

But watch Episode 6 Part 1 now, and when you’re done, go ahead and watch the previous ones. There are only five others. At 24 minutes apiece. You have 2 hours to spare, right?

Sure you do.

Fun Fact: This post was cribbed from my post at the LFTI Blog. What I won't do at the LFTI blog is beg you to go to YouTube and subscribe rate and comment. Sure, I'll suggest that you do, but I won't beg.

However, this isn't the LFTI Blog. This is my blog. And I'm not above begging here.

PLEASE go to YouTube and subscribe, rate and comment! Please!

We need you!

That's a fact.

Leap!

2008-02-29T08:48:00.000-08:00

Look at this! A new post! I realize that it’s been a while since I’ve written anything here, but I do think about posting all the time. Isn’t that enough?

The impetus for my foray back into the blogosphere is Leap Day. 40-year-olds everywhere are tricking themselves in to believing they’re only turning 10 today.

I’ve had this blog for quite a while (I’ve been neglecting it for quite a while as well), but leap day only comes around every four years and I couldn’t let this one go without pointing at it and saying “hey look, it’s Leap Day!”

As you may or may not know, quirks of the Gregorian calendar don’t exist unless I recognize them in print.

So enjoy your leap day. Leap! …or something.

It’s a vague request. But then I find the term “Leap Day” to be kind of vague itself. “Leaping” implies some kind of rigorous jump forward (although I suppose you can leap backwards too - if your knees are facing the wrong way). But a Leap Day is most certainly not a “leap” of any sort. In fact, it’s almost the opposite. It’s a catch-up day. A time-stopper. It’s slo-mo on a cosmic scale. Since we’ve adopted this imperfect Gregorian system (just say “no” to the metric calendar), and since we love it as we do, it’s something that must be done. And like every other crazy thing we humans do to compensate for a screwed up system, it should be celebrated.

I case you’re the freak that thinks we should do away with the Gregorian system altogether, I have two words for you: Metric. System. No one (in America anyway) wanted to change that for two reasons:

1. The way the system is now, we have lots of excuses for ignorance (I still have to think pretty hard about how many ounces go into a cup. And as for how many cups make up a gallon? Forget it. That’s what Google is for). But with a metric system everything is in tens. Nice and simple. If you can’t convert measurements utilizing the metric system, you’re an idiot.

2. Hardware stores everywhere would be sitting on thousands of promotional yard sticks (they still give those away right?).

Anyway, how to celebrate Leap Day? Well, since it’s a day designed to reconcile an imperfect system, why not use this day to reconcile things in your life? Apologize for some stupid crap you did to someone else. Or reconcile with yourself. Use today to allow yourself to feel okay that you’ve not even made a dent in your student loans, much less have gotten anywhere near having the job you went to college for. It’s okay.

Because Leap Day is also about procrastination. So, do what I do: Nothing. Tomorrow everything will be back on track. You can just sit at home and stare at your watch and wait (while you’re at it, you can figure out how to program your watch for the Leap Day).

Whatever you do, just be mindful that every 400 years, you’ll have to do it twice.

Happy Leap Day!

Fun fact: In the European Union, Leap Day was officially recognized as February 29th in the year 2000.

And I have in my possession the sixth episode of Life From The Inside! Yeah! We shot the damned thing last July! It will - finally - be coming very soon!

And…I’ve been blogging so long that I have an old Leap Day post for you to read! Special! It’s here.

Writer’s Strike Got You Down?

2008-01-08T09:15:00.000-08:00

Well, the good folks at NewTeeVee have a list of quality shows that can help you make it through the dark days. No longer will you have to suffer through hours of “reality” TV. There are plenty of fantastic web shows out there to satiate you.

One show in particular stood out to us at Life From The Inside…our own. That’s right, we made the list! Yeah us.

So why not go over to NewTeeVee and give them some love? While you’re there, why not check out some of the other shows that they mention? Break a leg (a personal favorite of mine), Mr. Deity, The Meth Minute, Buried Alive and, uh…Quarterlife. Don’t feel obligated to watch Quarterlife, unless you really miss Dawson’s Creek, then by all means, watch it (quietly).

But especially don't forget to watch our show! Life From The Inside. It's always on!

Thanks NewTeeVee!

Fun Fact: I appreciate the irony of the fact that the writers are striking because of Internet “broadcasting” and the cure for any strike-related misery is Internet “broadcasting.” But, hey. Watch them anyway.

And yes, I cribbed this post from my other post at the Life From The Inside blog. So sue me.

Have a Swingin' Christmas

2007-12-21T09:32:00.000-08:00

And a very, very, very hap'nin New Year!

Here's a little video that we (Katr Producer-type-people) made for the holidays. Just some extra split screen fun. Since the Amber Turnipseed video was such a blast to make, we decided to do another in a similar vein (we won the Turnipseed competition by the way).

Hope you like it!

Happy Holidays!

You can also see the video on YouTube. Please feel free to rate and comment! it would be the perfect Christmas gift!

Fun Fact: This song was recorded by Tanya and myself for our 2004 Christmas Album titled "Tanya and Robb; the Greatest Holiday Songs Ever Written...by them this year."

Look for it at record stores everywhere!

Seriously, keep your eye out. If you see a copy of this album in a record store, let me know because that record store is breaking the law!

My Grandma

2007-12-03T09:54:00.000-08:00

My Grandmother passed away yesterday.

She was a wonderful woman.

I’ll confess to you that I didn’t know her all that well. I haven’t seen her in a long time. She lived in Florida. But all the memories that I have of her are of a woman who was always kind, warm and loving.

I got to see her a lot more when I was a kid. Every summer my dad would take us on a road trip from West Virginia to Florida (or Georgia, depending on where she lived at the time). Mostly, I remember her from her Tallahassee days.

For me, when I was young, Tallahassee was a few things:

It was the capital of Florida (still is, though that’s not a very personal association, but true nonetheless).

Tallahassee was a couple weeks spent sneaking into a condo complex near my grandparent’s home so that us kids could swim for free (one time my sister did a belly flop off the diving board at one of the three pools in the complex (the “no kids” pool if memory serves), the sheer force of which, doubtlessly aided by ignoring the 30-minute rule of eating and swimming, caused her to vomit. On dark days I am still haunted by the image of beanie-weenies bobbing in chlorinated water. An unnatural sight. 1000 parts water, 20 parts chlorine and one can of condensed soup situated strategically under the diving board, waiting to ensnare any hapless idiot who didn’t look before he leapt. My dad’s solution to this particular dilemma was to just have us quietly leave that pool and go another one in the complex.)

Tallahassee was morning walks with my grandpa to get the paper (and, if I was lucky, stop off at McDonalds).

Tallahassee was a huge old tree. The oldest tree in the city (at least from what I remember). Just around the corner from my grandparent’s house. Dripping with Spanish moss.

But Tallahassee was mostly my grandma. And food. Not that I could ever separate the two. Grandma was food. Great food. Southern food. Comfort food.

A child’s palate isn’t very sophisticated. Hell, I used to put sugar on my frosted flakes. But even I knew that my Grandma was one hell of a cook. I remember cornbread. I remember some dishes that I couldn’t for the life of me tell you what they were. But they were delicious. I have an August birthday, and we would end up in Tallahassee for more than a few of them (I had one in a caboose at McDonalds!), so I remember a lot of cake. Fantastic cake.

I’ve always been a little curious about cooking. Probably because I like to eat so much (I especially did when I was a kid). One time I asked my Grandma to show me how to cook something.

Grandma taught me how to fry grits. Yes, she was that southern.

It’s not a huge trick to fry grits. You basically take any leftover grits that you have (or make a new batch specifically for the purpose, but what’s the fun in that?), press them flat in a pan and put the pan in the fridge until the grits congeal into a pasty substance. Once the grits have reached the consistency of set mortar, cut the grits into small bricks and fry them in butter until they’re golden brown and heated through. Serve with maple syrup.

If that description didn’t get your mouth watering, you’ve obviously never had them. They’re simple, warm, surprisingly fantastic and entirely comforting.

Just like my Grandma.

Like I said, my Grandma was food. She was her own food. And if you ever had the unparalleled pleasure of eating any of the dishes that my Grandma prepared, you would know that there is no better compliment than that.

I’ll miss you, Grandma.

I love you.

ROBB

Some News

2007-11-29T09:59:00.000-08:00

Hey, I’m back from Washington State and family fun. I only gained 8 lbs, so I’m back to where I started! Yeah! Anyway, I have some news involving the sitcom and since I already posted it over at the LFTI blog and my blogging fingers are tired (both of them)…

A repost from the LFTI Blog (written by me):

Hello Lifties, Robb here to tell you that it’s been an exciting Thanksgiving season. Is there a Thanksgiving season? I hope so since I said there was earlier (see above) and I hate to look like an idiot (not that it doesn’t happen all the time, but I don’t have to like it!) If not, it doesn’t matter since it’s over now.

All that aside, we’ve been featured on YouTube! That’s right the YouTube! “But, Robb” you say, “I’ve been to YouTube thousands of times over the Thanksgiving holiday break in order to get away from my family and especially creepy uncle Ted who keeps insisting that the 60s sexual revolution never really died – almost too adamantly – and I haven’t seen LFTI featured on the front page at all.”

Well, first I’d reply “why do you use such long rambling sentences when you speak?” and then I’d tell you that you’re right. We haven’t been featured on the front page…yet. The front page of YouTube is still pretty much reserved for Weblebrities, sleepy pets and Canadian music videos. But we have been featured on the “Entertainment” page. It’s in the “Catagories” section. It’s behind a yellow dumpster at the back of an ally just off the secondary road to the main highway of…look, why don’t I just give you the link:

http://youtube.com/categories_portal?c=24&e=1

There, now you can find it.

Please, feel free to go to the Episode 4 (Part 1 of 3) page and rate it! Comment too! We could use all the support we can get. Episode 3 has already been featured and we got some nice comments. But as with everything on the Internet, there are those who like to show the world just how insipid they can be. So why not go to the page and show everyone that our viewers can actually string a proper sentence together (you don’t have to spell correctly though, just pretend that you’re a nice foreigner).

Here’s Episode 4 (Part 1 of 3):

http://youtube.com/watch?v=HCPGUMho56o

We also have entered the Break a Leg “Very First Contest” Contest with our own special love letter to Amber Turnipseed.

Confused? Maybe this’ll clear things up:

That didn’t really help much did it? No. But it is cute right? Sure it is. As LeVar Burton used to say on Reading Rainbow, “But don’t take my word for it.”

Here’s an article from Tilzy.tv to back up my claim:

Tilzy.tv article about the contest.

Okay, they didn’t say it was “cute” per se, but what do you want from me?! They liked it! And if you like it too, go ahead and comment and rate it on YouTube.

“But, Robb” you say again, asking too many questions, “I need a YouTube account to rate and comment don’t I? Won’t I look stupid having an account since I don’t make videos?”

Well, yes you do need an account. And no, you won't look stupid. The simple fact is that most people who have YouTube accounts don’t actually make videos. Actually, I’ve found that the ones who don’t make videos like to criticize the harshest and yell the loudest. So why not become a non-video-making commenter with a conscience? Turn this ship around? You can do it! It’s easy. Nice people rarely look stupid.

Anyway, that’s the news from here. I’m working on the music for Episode 6, we have another short in the works and we’re starting pre-production on Episode 7! Look for all that soon, but not too soon, we have to keep up standards around here. Rugbnumba8 had this to say “this is absolutely the worst acting i have ever seen. ive seen better acting in my high school plays.” And Bubutkin commented, “Slapstick shtick. I didn't know or care about any of the characters in it. Totally overacted. What was the story even about?” (note to Bubutkin: I'm sorry that our sitcom wasn't serious enough for you. Maybe we'll have someone contract AIDS in the second season?)

Don’t you think it’s time you added your two cents (neither of those guys make videos either)?

I do have a question though, what the hell happened to Rugbnumbas 1 through 7? Was that screen name really so popular that this jackass had to settle for being #8? Is there a Japanese cartoon out there that I don’t know about?

Hmmm.

ROBB (TAM)

Happy Halloween!

2007-10-31T10:12:00.000-07:00

I was a voracious trick-or-treater. For a long time. I mean, all the way through high school. There are some people out there who say “a high school kid a little old to be trick-or-treating.”

I know. I met about 10 of them on the last Halloween that I ever went trick-or-treating.

Rude. Rude people. Can’t a 16-year-old get some free candy?! A high school kid is to old to go door-to-door and pick up some free chocolate?! Oh my! Trick-or-treating is for kids but put some free cubes of Salisbury steak in tiny paper cups at Costco and suddenly these same self-righteous jerks are like a bunch of kindergartners at snack time!

Okay, I’m still a little bitter. But those bastards left some scars. I’ve always gone out of my way to avoid any kind of humiliation. That includes dressing up at Halloween. The only reason I put myself out there like that was because of the candy. I was a fat kid who loved candy. Is that a crime?

(Come to think of it, the jerk adults might have mostly taken issue with my “costume.” But in all fairness, all it takes to be a bandit is a bandana, right? I mean, is there any other distinguishing article of clothing? Cowboy boots? Did bandits only exist in the old west? No. And, yes, that’s where I got the idea from for the Halloween short).

I say that the “adults” were jealous. And they had every right to be. I was having fun! I was getting free candy.

Free!

Candy!

So I’m telling you, no matter how old you are, you should go trick-or-treating. Go tonight. Don’t feel old.

Go.

If you don’t, you’ll never know the thrill of being told you’re a loser for wanting someone else to buy your candy for you.

Better yet, don’t dress up. Screw that. How many years have you been dressing up without going trick-or-treating? Office parties? Community block parties? Demonic orgies? Haven’t you dressed up enough? Haven’t you built up enough “candy equity” over the years? That’s right, you have. So get out there, explain to whomever answers the door what your philosophy is and get some candy!

The Anthropomorphic Cop says, “You’ve earned it.” Also, “look both ways before crossing the street and never steal another person’s candy bag, it’s not nice….and I’ll shoot you.”

Fun Fact: The Halloween episode is still online (and don’t forget that episode 5 of the sitcom is also terrifying!). Watch them! But start with the Halloween special “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Mason.”

Also, I did the research, but there are still two inaccuracies in the Halloween special. Can you find them? No, they have nothing to do with transvestites. And yes, a Gaff is a real thing. Look it up. Especially at work!

You Say You Want a Resolution

2007-10-18T14:54:00.000-07:00

Well, you know…we all want to change the world.

[Okay, up front, I stole this post from the LFTI blog. But I wrote it so I felt like I could. I'm a lazy blogger.]

It turns out that resolution(s) are not just for the New Year, because last time I checked, it was still October (although, as old as I am now, I’ll blink and it’ll be August again).

I suppose my point here is that…we have added “Hi-Resolution” versions of every episode! Yeah! Now, when you subscribe to iTunes, you won’t have to sit and watch crappy recomressed files!

(Okay, I just want to take a second here to let you know that we do indeed have a proper iTunes page now! I was afraid that they’d let us twist in the wind, but they didn’t. Good ‘ol Apple. Maybe they’d feature us if they knew that we do the entire show on a Mac? I dunno. But I wanted to say that you can subscribe to us through the iTunes store now. We’re under Podcasts/Comedy. Just search for “Life From The Inside.” You may have to look closely, but we’re there! Although Episode 4 seems to be missing at the moment...)(Right, back to the post)

Yes, thanks to blip.tv (seriously, one of the best sites on the Internet. Go there and give them some love – and tell them to feature us!) we now have super-high quality versions of each and every episode.

I can’t stress enough how different your viewing experience will be when you watch the hi-resolution files. You’ll notice stuff like subtle facial expressions, set decorations…actors.

Gone are the days of feeling like you’re watching our show in a Saharan sand storm. Say “goodbye” to tinny, indiscernible musical cues and lines. Say “hello” to the era of noticing audio edits, boom shadows and crap that we accidentally forget to remove from the kitchen.

Yes, the videos are that high quality. But don’t let the boom shadows frighten you, the show is – dare I say – 200 times more enjoyable when you can see stuff (that’s a scientifically proven fact…trust me…don’t research it).

The files have not been changed for episode 5, but episodes 1-4 are new and looking great. They’re also looking huge. So when you click on the “watch in hi-resolution” button on the respective episode’s page, give it a moment to load before you watch. I case you forget we’ve included a gentle reminder on each page.

Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that there is a new feature on lifefromtheinside.com.

Quality.

I’ll leave you with some thumbnails that I made to upload to blip.tv. They’re tiny on Blip, so I figured I’d show you a few here. I did make them after all, you might as well look at them.

ROBB

TAM's “Mason Moment” brought to you by Life From The Inside:

My computer wants me to capitalize the word “Internet.” I’m sure it’s proper. Why would my computer lie? But I’m not very comfortable with the idea. At best, it makes me feel like the Internet is a person or a proper place (Like “The Louvre” not like “the bathroom”), at worst, it makes me feel like I should worship it.

Maybe I’d feel better if we stopped capitalizing “God?” Maybe we should stop capitalizing the Louvre while we’re at it…or people’s names. Don’t people have big enough egos already?

Damn you Internet! Who do you think you are anyway? Free porn does not a deity make, pal.

It’s the Great Pumpkin, Kids!

2007-10-15T14:45:00.000-07:00

Halloween is nipping at our heels…no, wait, Halloween can’t be nipping at our heels right? That would insinuate that it was coming up on us from behind, wouldn’t it?

Halloween is nipping at our…noses. Like Jack Frost. But instead of just taking a little nibble, Halloween wants to eat your face off!

Let’s just say that Halloween is almost here. There. That works for me.

And is there a better way to celebrate one of the best and most demonic (unrelated) holidays then by making a short special for internet distribution? No. There is no better way to celebrate this holiday. If the only thing you do to celebrate is dress up in a costume and give out candy, then you’re lame, sir. Lame.

Okay, I shouldn’t get so down on you. Especially since I would like you to watch LFTI’s Halloween special “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Mason!” It’s showing on better browsers everywhere! You can see it here.

And don't forget to watch it in "Hi-Resolution." Just click on the link when you get to the page!

We actually shot this short sometime in early-to-mid July. Not very “Octobery” I know. But a necessity. Let’s just say that it was very hot. Very, very hot. It reminded me why we don’t have Halloween in the summertime. No one wants to wear a complicated costume in the summer. I mean, apart from Live Action Role Playing Gamers. But they’re a little bizarre anyway.

We had one special guest star for this short. A very special guest star indeed. The irrepressible Zoe Archer. She’s a published novelist! Check out her stuff on Amazon.com. We cast her because she is a published novelist and not because she is short. Author, yes. Short, no. (You should definitely pick up a copy of Lady X’s Cowboy. It’ll enhance your enjoyment of a short that we will be releasing in the future…okay, the short doesn’t have much to do with the novel, but the book does play a major role).

Anyway, go and check out the new short. While you’re there, if you find yourself saying “man, this is a well functioning page that this short is hosted on” – and I’m sure you will – I just wanted to let you know that I made it. Yes, I have taken up website maintenance. I can copy and paste like a mo-fo.

Fun Fact: Someday, someone will come up to you and say “Don’t be a pansy, it doesn’t hurt that much to be pelted with eggs. They’re eggs! How badly could they hurt?”

The answer is…they hurt plenty.

That’s a fact.

It's Alive!

2007-10-03T11:08:00.000-07:00

There’s Big Doin’s around here!

Well, maybe not around here. But over at lifefromtheinside.com there’s big doin’s.

Some of you may have already discovered that episode 5 is online. But it really hasn’t been “official” just yet. We never put it on the website. Why? Because we were waiting for the new and super-duper-spectacularly-improved website to go up!

And it’s up!

Here are a couple screenshots to whet your appetite.

Doesn’t that make you want to go there?

So why not take a minute to got to lifefromtheinside.com and poke around. If you’ve already seen our fabulous new episode (episode 5), and all of our other episodes for that matter, then just wander and look at the sights. Like a tourist. Don’t forget your camera.

The new website is by our great friend and web diva Lauren. You could take some time out and go to her site as well. Let her know what a great job she’s done.

If you haven’t seen all of our episodes, then watch them for crying out loud!

The new site has many exciting features. The most exciting being that you can now watch a “high resolution” version of our shows (well, Episode 5 anyway…the others aren’t up just yet). Just click on “Episode 5” on the “episodes” page and then click on the “watch in hi-resolution” link. A popup will be your window to higher quality, stereo goodness.

Also, I’ve included a new banner to the sidebar of this blog to direct people to the sitcom. Why not click on it and see if it works?!

The new website also includes a blog. The old website had a blog too, we just didn’t ever use it. But we will now. I promise. There are also comments for each section of each episode. Don’t be afraid to use them.

Exciting!

Fun Fact: Adam and I started cutting together another short last night. I don’t want to give anything away but, lately, I’ve been trying to learn how to play the piano like Vince Guaraldi (not an easy task, especially since I seem to be woefully uncoordinated).

It will be up in time for Halloween!

Prepare for a Scare

2007-09-27T09:53:00.000-07:00

I’ve resorted to rhyming. But there’s nothing better than a trite rhyme to excite an audience, is there?

Well, perhaps.

But the fact of the matter is that Episode 5 of “Life From The Inside” is almost here! That’s right! The wait is “almost” over!

What can you expect, you ask? Mayhem. Mostly mayhem. Almost complete mayhem, as it turns out.

This episode is slightly different in feel than the previous episodes. Due mostly to the fact that it’s completely horrifying! And not just because I’m fat in the episode, although that is pretty horrifying.

This episode is best viewed with the lights out. As is, coincidentally, my physique.

We shot this episode exclusively at night, which is why – from time to time – we look exhausted. Three overnight shoots. There’s something about burning the midnight oil that appeals to me. Maybe it’s because I usually go to bed at 10:00. Staying up late makes me feel like a super-rebel. A super-rebel or a degenerate. Take your pick. They’re both cool.

Here’s a preview of things to come (in crappy screen capture form):

Pretty tantalizing eh? And scary!

A Catholic priest? Guy’s weird face? Eric strangling Jennifer? A weird little dude wearing striped pants? Kate and Ashleigh getting their respective grooves on? And is Mason cuddling with Jennifer on the sofa?

What a tease.

When will the episode be available to view? Soon. Very, very soon. The “official” announcement is forthcoming. In the meantime, have some patience. And whatever you do, don’t look at the “episodes menu bar on the right side of the page.” Don’t do it! There’s nothing to officially see there!

Why not visit the website and sigh? That sounds fun.

I’ve been working on some musical extras for lifefromtheinside.com. Maybe those will be up soon? Some music from the Grocery Delivery Dude short and Episode 5, as well as the full version of the song “Dream Girl” from Episode 4! Fun!

Fun Fact: Tonight is the night that Tanya, Vince and I go to Knott’s Scary Farm with the master of macabre (theme parks) Stephen (see weird little dude wearing striped pants above)!

It’s going to be great! If you haven’t gone to Knott’s Scary Farm…go. You’re missing out if you don’t.

The End is Near

2007-08-23T08:46:00.000-07:00

There are a few things by which you can measure your life. Milestones. Unseen flags planted along a curving path that, once crossed, let you know that a distance has been traveled.

Birth. (a gimme really)

Driver’s license.

Porn movie rental.

Legally purchased Mad Dog 20/20. (and subsequent government sanctioned hangover)

College graduation.

30.

Yesterday, I crossed another of these milestones.

I was sitting at my desk here at home, editing episode 5 of the sitcom (check out episodes 1-4 at lifefromtheinside.com), when I got wind of the distinct scent of burning sulfur. Seeing as how I don’t life anywhere near an oil refinery, I was a bit concerned. My first thought whenever I smell anything that smells even slightly “fiery” is always that something has—well—caught fire. My imagination immediately begins to conjure up images of the building ablaze. A wall of flame threatening my neighbors, their only hope; my heroic action, my superior sulfur-sniffing schnoz.

But when I got to my front window to check it out, all I found were two kids sitting on the bottom of my steps.

I could tell they were up to no good; they had all the telltale signs of being 10-year-old punks:

1) They were 10 years old.

2) They were kids.

3) They both had that 10-year-old punk-ass haircut. You know the hair I’m talking about. I call it the “Blond Boy-Princess Cut.” Highlights and shine that a tween pop diva would stop purging for. They looked like they just got fired off their stunt-double jobs on “The Suite Life of Zach and Cody.” Hair that says “I’m a bad-ass motherfucker” to other kids, too young to appreciate the irony.

I really knew they were dumbshits when I saw the bigger of the two toss a spent stink bomb into the street (I knew I recognized that smell!). I watched them for a little while longer as they threw some other crap into my driveway, had some inane—yet dramatic—convo and fired off some text messages on their Sidekick. (Seriously, why the hell do 10-year-olds need a freaking Sidekick?!)

Finally, the bigger one produced a blue marker from his pocket and I needed a cigarette.

I stood downstairs in my driveway and talked to Tanya on the phone. The kids stayed put at the bottom of the stairs. I half watched them. I should have busted them for throwing garbage into my driveway, but I hate confrontation, even if I’m twice the size of both of them out together. So I decided to relax about it.

I hung up with Tanya and headed back upstairs. The kids graciously move two inches each to let me by.

That’s when I saw it.

The little shit had tagged my bottom step!

I stood behind them for a few moments weighing my legal options before saying anything. These days you have to. You just can’t go around disciplining other people’s kids anymore. In fact, you should probably think twice before talking to them.

But when they felt my contempt busting a hole in the backs of their heads, they slowly turned around.

“Hey, why don’t you clean that shit off my step?”

And with that utterance, I entered a new chapter in my life. The chapter that begins: “I’ll have the strained peas please.”

I’m officially an old man.

I know I’ve said that before, but this time it’s indisputable. Because I didn’t just say “hey, why don’t you clean that shit off my step.”

I stood there while the kid did it.

Albeit, not without a fight.

“I didn’t do that!”

“Yes you did, I saw the blue marker in your pocket. Blue writing. Blue marker. I cracked the code.”

“I didn’t, but if you insist on blaming me, I’ll clean it up.”

“Dude,” I said dude. I may be an old man, but I’m not going quietly, damnit! “Dude, I’m not an idiot. Just clean the shit off my stairs. This place is a big enough shithole without you writing all over it.” I swore a lot just to let the kids know that I’m cool as hell. Because that’s oh so very important.

So the kid grabbed the nearby hose, while I and his princess-boy buddy watched, and he scrubbed the writing off the step with his shirtsleeve.

“Okay, that’s good enough.” There was still some blue left but not much. After all, why humiliate the kid any further because of some blue stains when the owners are barely keeping the entire staircase safe enough to walk on in the first place?

And with a hearty, “Now get the hell out of here.” It was done.

Am I a hypocrite? I had no respect for other people’s property. I tagged crap when I was a kid (with un-washable spray paint! I blame the movie “Beat Street”).

But you know why I stopped? Because some old, out-of-touch, killjoy fucker yelled at me for it.

To everything turn, turn, turn...

My hip hurts.

Fun Fact: When I was 10, my friends and I decided to make a fort—on the roof of the Public Library. When the cops showed up to bust us, we ran and hid in an ally.

The only problem was that the ally was right behind the police station.

Kids are dumb.

This picture is an artists rendering of the actual library mentioned above. Why no real picture, you ask? Well, this is the only one I could find online. Evidently, they don’t trust cameras in Wheeling, WV. They think they steal your “coal.”

They are a confused and superstitious coalmining people.

I Remember When You Could Get a Loaf of Bread for a White Lie

2007-08-16T09:47:00.000-07:00

Those were the days. When groceries were affordable and journalism was had integrity.

Of course, I’m not really talking about journalism, I’m talking about Dateline NBC. When it’s not driving would-be perverts to suicide, the news magazine exploits human misery in other ways. Things like murder “mysteries.” Usually on a smaller scale (unless a disenfranchised student goes on a killing spree, or it’s the anniversary of a disenfranchised student’s killing spree).

It can be somewhat entertaining, often terrifying, but I don’t remember it being so damned “hard boiled.”

As I was brushing my teeth last night, getting ready for bed (yes, I go to sleep at 10; I’m 34 years old now!), Dateline was on my TV. I was too lazy to turn the channel after Last Comic Standing ended (They sent home Matt Kirshen! That kid was funny, damnit).

Dateline was doing a story about a polo player who disappeared in The Philippines or something. This was the way the voice-over described Southeast Asia:

“It’s like opening the door to a very dark world where the currency is…betrayal.”

The currency is betrayal?

I’m sure the story went on to discuss some business dealing gone horribly wrong. But before that statement was uttered on the show, the reporter had been talking about the victim’s alleged Asian extramarital affair. So the fact that The Philippines’ currency is betrayal seemed to me like a bit of a non sequitur. (Unless the guy was planning to trade his affair for a new car.)

Southeast Asia; where the currency is betrayal.

Southeast Asia, where they barter in misery, prepare food with revenge (and fish sauce) and floss their teeth with treason.

I’m sure they were going for an edgy feel to the “story.” But don’t the writers on these shows get paid well? The reporters don’t write the copy do they? It’s possible that whoever wrote this is practicing for their new pulp fiction novel.

“The Philippines; a place where a reporter can get a cup of joe, but shouldn’t be surprised if it growls at him. Where the jungles are steamy but the dames are steamier. Where pennies on the dollar can get you a night on the town, but can’t buy your dignity.”

They might as well write that stuff. Then they wouldn’t have to fill the story up with inane drivel like this:

“John Elwin loved polo like he loved life.”

And exact quote from the top of the broadcast. But what does that mean? I wish they would have said, “John Elwin played polo like he lived his life.” Then I could have added “…straddling a large mammal.” But they didn’t. They went for the even more vague statement.

Did John Elwin love polo like he loved his life? Will we ever know? He’s dead…I assume…I didn’t watch the whole thing. And can we trust the people who knew him best to tell us? He was having an affair that he kept secret from everyone after all.

Who cares?

Not me.

But we should expect more from our journalists, shouldn’t we? They’ve gotten horribly lazy. Someone should start a letter writing campaign to stop these lazy hacks.

Let me know how it goes.

Fun Fact: The Philippines’ actual currency is the Philippine Peso. And the exchange rate is high. You can get a lot of pesos for a dollar, but even that’s not enough to buy back your soul.

Quit Your Clowning!

2007-08-02T08:48:00.000-07:00

It’s official, another of the world’s most selfish people has been saved by a fertilized egg.

Nicole Ritchie is pregnant (no, she’s probably not having a creepy Ronald McDonald baby…although, if she does, my suspicions will be confirmed). And she’s taking responsibility for her drunken indiscretions. She now sees the error of her ways. She has been made newly aware that she has a responsibility to others.

And all it took was for her to lose her period.

Well, I’m sure she lost her period a while before she was pregnant. But this time the loss of menses was due to a baby-ish thing squirming inside her and not due to her 15-calorie-a-day diet.

Nicole isn’t the first person to have this revelation. A remarkable amount of celebs have had had similar ones. Even the non-infamous are privy to an impregnation-induced epiphany. It’s as if the spermatozoa penetrate not only the egg, but the decision-making centers of the brain as well.

But before we launch the “this is your brain…this is your brain on sperm” campaign, let me be clear that I’m talking about men here as well. In a man’s case, it could possibly be argued that the release of sperm makes them better people.

You hear that ladies? The next time you go poking around at your significant other’s browser history, remember, he’s doing it for the common good!

But let’s not talk anymore about ejaculate. In fact, let’s forget that I typed the word “ejaculate” at all.

It’s not my point.

My point is that a pregnancy has a great number of life altering effects. It can make a person sleepier, fatter, jumpier, “stretchmarkier,” poorer and – more importantly – better.

It’s the last one that I’m interested in. Although, ladies, I am interested in what it feels like to be kicked from the inside. Is it as creepy as it sounds?

But, no, I’m staying on topic here. Lets talk about how bringing a child into the world makes someone a better person.

(Author’s note: No. Tanya is not pregnant, mom.)

I’ve never understood how having a child can make a person better. I can understand how a kid can make a person more careful. I can see how a baby can make a person more patient.

But not “better.”

Let’s take Nicole again as an extreme example. I know that your typical mom isn’t a drunk-driving, coke-snorting multimillionaire celebrity socialite. But take Nicole anyway…please! Oh, the humor. My sides, my sides.

Before Nicole got pregnant, she couldn’t see how she was at all responsible to the people around here. At least not the people who weren’t immediately around her. The general public that is to say.

But now that there’s a Nicole Ritchie/Joel Madden hybrid sloshing around somewhere near her small intestines, the world has been shown in a whole new light. She is going to be more responsible because…well because…

Let’s examine that, shall we?

Nicole used to be a careless debutante who saw the people of the world as nothing but an ATM, traffic and congestion. Something to get in her way and pay her rent. But now there’s a baby involved. She can no longer be the selfish woman that she once was. Why?

She has learned that it’s important for her to be a responsible person. She is responsible to…her baby. Her actions have a direct effect on…her baby. She wants to be a positive influence and make the world a better place…for her baby.

Pardon me if I seem a bit skeptical about Nicole’s sincerity.

Seems to me that saying you’re going to be less selfish in regard to the world around you just because you had a baby is a bit like saying:

“I used to set fire to a condo complex down the street about once a week. It was fun watching all those homes burn. But then I bought a unit there. That’s when I decided that what I was doing might not be the best idea.”

Being forced to be a better person doesn’t seem like the greatest act of benevolence to me. You wouldn’t say that a serial killer on death row is a good man now simply because he hasn’t killed anyone in the 20 years he’s been locked up, would you?

Am I being unreasonable here? Is it possible that Nicole is striving to be a better person now because she finally has learned what it’s like to truly love another person, therefore making it possible for her to develop a sense of empathy toward humankind in general? Maybe. Sad. But maybe.

And does it matter that Nicole has hopelessly selfish reasons for being less selfish?

Do the ends justify the means?

And should the city of New York be able to tell Nicole that her baby can’t drink formula in their hospitals?

Like that? Like how I changed the subject there?

Man, we’re not losing our civil liberties…we’re giving ‘em away.

Fun Fact: My Apple keyboard is driving me nuts! The space bar sticks on the right side. And I keep inadvertently hitting the caps lock key. Why does this keyboard suck so much? I paid a lot of money for it! And why can’t I type right?!

Help me, Mavis Beacon!

You too, Steve Jobs.

Kwik-E

2007-07-18T08:49:00.000-07:00

So, there’s this high-pitched ring coming from the carport of the newly-built condos next door. It’s some kind of alarm. For the last two nights, it’s started its horrible ringing at around 3am and continued until morning. We are forced to shut our bedroom window in a vein attempt to drown out the maddening sound.

It’s 9:40am now and it’s still going.

Six separate families live in that condo complex. Each of which have to go into the carport in order to get into their cars and go to work. It seems that they’re all newly unemployed, because not one person has turned off the alarm.

One family opened their huge-ass garage-door-turned-patio-door thing and sat out on their little balcony for a while. The entire time being serenaded by the worst sound created by man.

They did nothing.

I fear that the neighbors are mentally handicapped. Of course, I suspected that when they dropped $700,000 for a condo that has a breathtaking view of my bedroom window. But now I’m almost certain.

So, let’s stop talking about them. Let’s talk about the Kwik-E-Mart.

As you may already know, as a promotion for the upcoming Simpson’s Movie, a handful of 7-11 stores around the country have converted to Kwik-E-Marts. There are 12 in the United States.

What you may not know is that Tanya and I live about 7 blocks from one of them.

Since we both love the Simpsons and since the Kwik-E-Mart is so close, we had to go for a visit. Even my severe misanthropy wasn’t going to stop that.

Our first attempt was a bust. There was a line around the block to get in. And I wasn’t about to wait in line to get into a damn 7-11, no matter how many cute signs they put in the windows.

Our second attempt yielded fruit. Well, not fruit per se. Would you buy fruit from a 7-11?

It yielded donuts.

The Kwik-E-Mart turned out to be pretty fun. Even the employees seemed to be having a good time. When was the last time you went to a 7-11 with happy, cheerful employees? The Kwik-E-Mart made everyone happy.

They’ve got cute Kwik-E-Stuff.

Chief Wiggum was there (what a celebrity sighting!!).

They have goofy signs on things and pink donuts with sprinkles.

Okay, I have to take issue with that last picture (click on it to enlarge). Not one of those things has a bun! Not one! Perhaps the sign is just generally informational? “Our hot dogs are rich in bunly goodness…of course, these aren’t hot dogs…but our hot dogs are rich in bunly goodness nonetheless.” And, look at the price of a pack of Kools! Didn’t those used to be the cheap cigarettes? And why no Laramies? The official cigarette of the Simpsons? An oversight, I say.

Tanya hung out with Apu.

I got some Buzz cola (They didn’t have any Radioactive Man comics when we went, but thanks to Julie, we got one! Thanks Julie!).

We took some pictures outside the store. I felt a bit stupid about taking pictures outside of what is essentially a 7-11, like a tourist in my own neighborhood, but we did it anyway.

All-in-all, it was a pretty interesting trip to the Kwik-E-Mart. If you have the chance to go to one, I recommend it. I wouldn't drive very far to do so, but it’s worth a 7-block voyage.

Fun Fact: The Simpsons Movie opens on or around July 27th! Go see it! Give FOX your money! People need to eat you know!

I’m Baaaaaaaaack!

2007-07-03T08:50:00.000-07:00

Miss me? I missed you. Man, it’s been a while. I really should update this blog more often. I will. I promise.

I’ve already missed so many interesting topics. Paris went to jail. And…um…Paris went to jail…wait, I said that one already.

Oh, I know! Paris went to jail!

And Bushy commuted Scooter’s sentence. But that just happened, so – technically – I didn’t really miss it. But I’m going to. I’m going to miss it right now.

This is me, “missing it.”

But in other, more exciting and less maddening news; the latest episode of “Life From The Inside” is now officially online. Most of it has been hanging out in that video bar on the right side of this page all weekend (drinking too much and chatting up da’ ladies, no doubt), but now it’s actually on the LFTI website (thanks Lauren, you’re the best)!

Go there now and watch it! Now! Here, I’ll even make it easy for you:

lifefromtheinside.com

Let me know what you think.

It’s also on YouTube for those of you who like your videos of a…less sophisticated nature.

Fun Fact: We shot some LFTI shorts recently, so you should be seeing one of those in the next few weeks. And I’m going to start editing Episode 5 very soon. We start shooting Episode 6 at the end of the month.

Whew.

And, if you didn’t expect Bush to commute Scooter’s sentence than you’re living in a fool’s paradise. What are the rents like in that paradise? I think I’d like to move there. Sounds lovely. Bush doesn’t reward cronyism there.

Anyway, we should just be happy that Georgie didn’t give Mr. Libby his own South Pacific Island while he was at it. (If they hadn’t put Jack Abramoff away, he could’ve arranged that.)

Oops, there, I did it, I commented on the Scooter Libby thing.

I’m on the Case

2007-05-10T08:49:00.000-07:00

Are you a college student? Are you tired of stumbling aimlessly through your higher education, subsisting on nothing but a dream, stale pizza and bong water? Well, do I have the website for you.

missingmajor.com

It’s a step-by-step guide designed to help you get to the heart of why you’re in college in the first place. Wait, that makes it sound like a porn site filled with hot tips on how to get two girls to strip down to their bras and make out in front of everybody at a party. It’s not that kind of site.

But that would be a great site too. Albeit, not really necessary. You just need to find a couple girls who have dubious self-esteem. Preferably two hot girls desperate to get a certain guy to notice them but too drunk to know that he left a half-hour ago with some 18-year-old frosh. If all else fails, a chubby sophomore will do. They won’t even need to be drunk. They think that this kind of attention will help them rise to the top of the college social order, not knowing that sophomores are called “underclassmen” for a reason. They’re not going to be on top of anything for a while. Or ever, if they keep whoring it up for attention.

Ah, college.

But back to the site in question. It’s a step-by-step guide designed to help you with the second most important part of your college experience – getting an education.

And it has one hell of a handsome host as well. So, if you’re tired of look-at-me-lesbians, pills with cartoon characters on them and late night trips to Home Depot for large-capacity funnels, rubber hoses and one of those “on/off faucety-type thingies” then head over to missingmajor.com and get your life on the right track, kid.

Or just go to see the fantastic host!

Fun Fact: Episode 3 of the hit internet sitcom Life From The Inside is now online at our website! Go there and watch it. “But,” you say “I can just scroll down this page and watch it here. Or click on the episodes at the right side of the window and see it that way.” Sure you can. But if you haven’t seen this show with the cast’s cold, dead eyes staring at you from the top of the page, then you haven’t seen squat!

The Wait Is (Completely) Over!

2007-05-03T15:12:00.000-07:00

If you haven't already, go to my previous post and watch Life From The Inside Episode 3 part 1. I'll wait.

Okay, now parts 2 and 3 are up! Actually, part 3 has been up for a little while, but I didn't want to draw attention to it since what would the episode be without part 2?

Confusing, that's what!

In case you didn't know, at Revver, they have actual people view the videos before they go live. the good people at Revver thought it necessary to flag part 3 as "PG 13."

Sexy.

Fun Fact: I'm going to start on Episode 4 now.

Will this ever end?

No!

Also, the videos are almost up on YouTube as well. If you like to watch crappily encoded videos online, go there and search for "LFTI"!

The Wait Is (Partly) Over!

2007-05-03T13:52:00.000-07:00

Stop yellin'! Stop clamoring! Stop driving by my apartment throwing empty beer bottles and yelling "where is Episode 3 of Life From the Inside!!!"

Stop it.

Episode 3 part 1 is here.

The other two parts to follow later today (once they get all approved by Revver).

At the moment, this episode isn't on our website www.lifefromtheinside.com. It will be soon (probably sometime next week). But enjoy it here. Don't forget to tell your friends!

Fun Fact: This episode was originally only going to be split into 2 parts. But ScrewTube got all uppity and even Revver had issues. So, now it's in an unnatural three-part format.

Fun!

Just Tryin' Somethin'

2007-05-02T09:37:00.000-07:00

Okay, YouTube is teh suck. That's internet talk for "teh suck." So let's try Revver, shall we? And let's try their linkable collection feature.

Here are the first two episodes of the sitcom as seen on Revver. They are much higher quality. The flash versions look the best. The Quicktime versions sound the best. Watch them at the same time and you've got yourself quite an experience. (incidentally, you can toggle between the two versions. There's a button around them somewhere.)

Sure, you'll still be able to see your favorite episodes on YouTube, never fear. If you find yourself pining for substandard video compression YouTube will always be your friend.

But, on to Revver.

Did this work? Can you feel the love? Episode 3 will be online soon! Just some final tweaking and privacy issues and we'll be in business!

Okay, the episodes are now in the sidebar on the right since I can't figure out why it won't post in the blog part of the page. Episode 1, Part 1 is at the bottom, they go up from there. like reading Chinese!

Fun Fact: YouTube is teh suck.

And as a side note, these videos may not stay on Revver for long. Enjoy them now, while you can!

So, What Have You Been Up To?

2007-04-27T09:45:00.000-07:00

I’m killing two birds with one stone here today. I’m updating the blog and plugging the sitcom! Don’t forget to visit www.lifefromtheinside.com to see what all the “fuss” is about.

I’ve been neck-deep in episode three lately. I’ve been scoring it. I had to take a little break from it so that we could shoot episode 5. Yes, episode 5! But now episode 3 is almost done! It should be online sometime before the end of next week. Isn’t that exciting news? Yes, yes it is.

Anyway, in lieu of anything of real substance, here is a photo preview of episode three in the form of BTS pictures. They are in no significant order. And unfortunately, I couldn’t use a lot of great pictures because I didn’t want to give the story away. So, enjoy (sorry Steve, I know you hate it when people say that)

Thanks to David Beall, the best on-set photographer we have!

Fun Fact: Why was Vince (Mailman) covered in silly string?

That’s why.

Go to www.lifefromtheinside.com right now! GO!

Nappy Time

2007-04-09T08:40:00.000-07:00

Don Imus is an idiot. As you probably already know, the radio personality called the Rutgers Women’s basketball team “Nappy-Headed Hos.” A remark that’s not only derogatory, but also infused with a piquant hint of racism.

Now, I’m a little young to remember when people used the term “nappy headed” as a slur. Don Imus is significantly older than I am, so he should have known better.

The question is however, should the jock be fired? Is using a racist slur – even on the radio (the last bastion for taste and grace and home of Howard Stern) – unforgivable? Rev. Al Sharpton is out for blood. We should have known it was coming. Al Sharpton is always out for blood when someone uses a racist term.

Al Sharpton should be pissed off at racists. Racism is terrible. It’s idiotic. It’s irrational. It’s hurtful. It’s completely without merit.

Is it unforgivable?

Apparently Al thinks so. The Reverend who “forgave” the man who stabbed him feels that a racist epithet is a career destroying offence. He’s demanding that Imus be fired. The man who, on more than one occasion, has used anti-Semitism to “rally” his “troops” thinks that “Nappy-Headed Hos” crosses the line. Where does Al Sharpton draw his line? Who really knows. I’m not sure that Al could answer that question for you.

But one thing I do know is that Al Sharpton has done about as much for race relations as a Mississippi lynch mob.

It seems odd to me that a man of God should be so into vengeance. Now, don’t get me wrong, Don Imus’ remarks were stupid, hurtful, wrong and bafflingly inexplicable. But you know how I get back at people like Don Imus? I turn them off. I don’t listen to them. I don’t lend credence to their words by declaring their actions to be a blight on the world. I’ve seen Don Imus all over television this morning. Shamed. Groveling. Begging for forgiveness. Truly humbling himself.

Is this the time to kick the man? Why not let public opinion take care of Don Imus? If people are willing to forgive him then they will (and I actually do believe that Imus wants to be forgiven. I feel that there’s real regret there. Not like Mel Gibson. Who, by the way, I’m still avoiding. Not like Al Sharpton, who has referred to Jewish people as “bloodsucking Jews” among other things). If people are unwilling to forgive Don Imus then they won’t.

Methinks Rev. Sharpton needs to head back to his Bible and Don Imus needs to shut the hell up every once in a while.

Imus’ glass house has a huge stone-hole in it at the moment; I just can’t believe that Sharpton’s place has stayed so pristine.

Fun Fact: I Got Milk…glass. I’ve got a milk glass. I've gotten a milk glass.

I won it online from gettheglass.com. I played the dairy council’s little game and I won! Take that Beef Association and Chicken Growers!

Here’s my prize:

I’m such a winner!

DM

2007-03-14T09:28:00.000-07:00

Sorry that I haven't posted in a while. I'm extremely busy at the moment. It's all pretty much sitcom-related.

If you haven't gone to the website yet, what are you waiting for?!

lifefromtheinside.com

It's not the final, completed version, but it's still pretty good looking and it has interesting things all over it. Spangles and pictures and whatnot. Shiny things. Keeps the crows away.

If you're not interested in visiting lifefromtheinside.com (but I know you are), here's a Danger Mouse episode to help you while away the time.

Fun Fact: Episode 3* of the sitcom (*no substitutions) is on its way and we just completed shooting on Episode 4! Now, if I could only finish the rewrites for episode 5...

Goodbye Grandpa

2007-03-01T10:03:00.000-08:00

So, my grandfather passed way yesterday. Just thought I’d get that out of the way early since that’s what this post is about and it will seem fairly strange if you don’t have that information. (Here’s a picture of him with my Grandma, it’s a little scratchy, but it was taken in the days before digital cameras. And it looks pretty cool and antique this way.)

My Grandpa always lived in the south. As far as I know. He pretty much jumped back and forth between Florida (he lived there before he was old. Truly a pioneer.) and Georgia.

Since he lived so far away from me (I grew up in Washington State, can’t get much further) I didn’t get to see him as much as I’d have liked to. But he was an interesting man.

Side note: Grandparents are strange things. They’re the perpetually old people that you see every once in a while. They love you and at times spoil you. Sometimes they yell at you just because you’re having fun. Jumping on the couch is fun. And, since they don’t grow older at a slower rate than you do, they always seem somewhat unknowable.

I do know a couple things about my Grandpa. He had a lot of jobs. I’m not really sure what he would have considered his career to be exactly. I’m not even sure if he knew the answer to that question.

Grandpa liked to watch TV. He could have gone pro.

I know he moved his family to BFE Florida to run a roadside motel. One of those relics of Americana doomed to atrophy under the new interstate highway system.

I know that he used to run hooch over county lines. Yes, he was a bootlegger. And not those weenie types of bootleggers that they have today with their cheap DVDs and live concert performance CDs. The-pedal-to-the-metal kind. Always on the lookout for Johnny Law. Racing down the back roads with a trunk full of ‘shine on a clandestine mission to meet some ape with a wad of lettuce.

Sure, I’m probably romanticizing a little. But why not? I like to write in that hard-boiled 30s milieu. Plus, old-timey bootlegging is kind of cool. Illegal? Sure. Cool? Yup.

I also know that he sold cars. He probably sold quite a few cars. But I’ll bet the number of cars sold was a secondary concern. I’m sure he was in the car sales game just for the thrill of the “deal.”

I also know that my Grandpa thought that I was some kind of Hollywood big shot. Who am I to argue? I know that he was proud of what I am doing out here in LA. I know that he liked my music. I know he would like the sitcom. Just seeing me on “TV” would make him happy (YouTube would probably count). Like I said, who am I to correct him. Yes, I’m not as big a mover and shaker as he probably thought. But I’ll take it. After all, he was a very old man with some very old ideas, if he wants to think that I lunch with Darryl Zanuck, so be it. My sister is a massage therapist and he was convinced she’s really a hooker. So Hollywood star I’ll take.

I also know that as I get older, I’ll understand my Grandpa more and more. And that makes me realize that aging does have its upside.

Anyway. I’ll miss you Grandpa. My thoughts are with you, Grandma, Dad, Kathy, Jeanie and the rest of my family. I love you all and I’m thinking of you.

Fun Fact: When I used to visit my Grandparents in Florida, my Grandpa would take me with him on his morning walk to get the paper. He would even get me a little something at McDonalds. Which after traveling with my father and his luke-warm cheese sandwiches was heaven. My Grandma’s world-class cooking was also a welcome respite.

So, thanks you to Grandpa and Grandma for rescuing me from dad’s notoriously spare cross-country travel budget.

But, you know, sometimes now I even actually miss those nasty cheese sandwiches.

Oh, and some more trivia. In my Grandparents old neighborhood in Tallahassee lived one of the oldest trees in Florida.

…or something. I was a kid. That’s what they told me. Anyway, let’s just say that it’s true and be impressed.

And here’s another picture of my Grandpa with my family. I’m not pictured so you can enjoy it all the more. And, man, does Grandpa look tall!

Movin’ and Shakin’

2007-02-23T08:38:00.000-08:00

The other night Tanya, Kathy and myself had drinks with the producers of a great online comedy series called “The Burg.”

As you know, we’ve been producing an online sitcom called “Life From The Inside.” (Don’t worry. The website is coming very soon) So far, we haven’t been able to talk with anyone who’s doing what we’ve been doing. But all that changed on Wednesday.

I contacted the good people at The Burg to get some friendly advice on web hosting, video compression and other such sexy concerns. They were very helpful. They even suggested that since they were going to be in LA visiting with various Hollywood players they would like to meet and have drinks. Very cool of them.

It was nice to finally have someone to commiserate with on the finer points of web production. Especially ones who have had so much success. Here’s a link to their write-up in Wired Magazine.

They’re cool people and I just wanted to say thanks to Kathleen and Thom, wish them the best of luck and send you to see their show. Go to theburg.tv and watch, say “hi” or do…whatever. Just go and support independent online shows.

Plus, I figured that I should post since I’ve been neglecting this blog for far too long. But it’s all for a good cause. We shoot the final part of Episode 3 on Saturday. I should be done editing it in a few weeks. In the midst of that we’ll be shooting episode 4! Needless to say that as the editor, head writer, sound mixer, composer and color and compression guy, I’ll have my hands full for a while.

Fun Fact: If you haven’t already experienced Life From The Inside, head over to YouTube (YouTube.com) and search for “LFTI.”

It’ll change your life.*

*May not actually change anything.

Happy Birthday, Mom!

2007-02-15T08:50:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday, Mom. Hey mom, Happy Birthday. Happy birthday to you, mom.

In case you haven’t guessed, it’s my mother’s birthday. She turns the big 3-0 today. Which is remarkable considering that I’m 33. Yep, my mom is 3 years younger than I am. I don’t know how that worked out. But who am I to question the mysteries of life? No one, that’s who.

Happy Birthday, mom.

Fun Fact: On February 15th 1977, my mom’s “birthday,” Sid Vicious replaced Glen Matlock as the bassist for the Sex Pistols.

That probably explains my mom has so damned many Sex pistols albums. But why does she have to play them so loud?!

…Kids…

Ralph is a Homosexual

2007-02-13T09:36:00.000-08:00

It’s true. Just go to Steve’s website and click on the link in his latest post (“Boys Beware” is the link name). It’s an old “educational” film from the early 60s about the dangers of homosexuals.

Or is it about the dangers of pedophiles? Oh, what’s the difference? Hey, it’s the 60s! Pedophiles…homosexuals…they’re one and the same, pal.

I learned all sorts of really valuable things from the flick; Did you know that homosexuals hang out in public restrooms and under piers? That homosexuals may “appear to be normal” but are in fact “mentally ill?” That in the early 60s, there were a surprisingly large amount of adolescent hitchhikers?

I didn’t know these things until now. Sure, I was suspicious about the public restrooms, especially after that whole George Michael fiasco. But the pier?! No! I guess they’ve cleaned things up a bit since the Eisenhower era because the film was shot very close to my home and, nowadays, the undersides of piers around here seem to be generally homosexual-free.

See. No one. No homosexuals. Not even a transvestite, a single mother or an atheist!

Now, I can’t attest for what goes on under piers at night, but my guess is that the homosexuals stay clear. Too many homeless people and crack addicts. You can’t get your “homosexual” on with that kind of crowd milling around.

Go and check out the film. It’s high on style…and something else probably.

But we can’t be too harsh on the idiots who made this movie. They were only trying to do what they thought was best. And that was to equate homosexuality with child molestation. Sounds simple enough doesn’t it? Thank god we don’t do that sort of thing these days. We should be thankful that only a few people are still trying to paint gays as child-raping fiends. Most of us can just shake our heads at those poor, deluded morons and go about our business of weeding out every last Muslim in America. Goddamned terrorists!

But I digress.

Actually, this is the perfect time for me to talk to the gay community about those Snickers® ads that recently were yanked from the airwaves.

I am a huge supporter of gay rights. I think that gays should have every right that a straight person has. Marriage, adoption, iced blended mocha latés. But I’ve been disappointed at the reaction to those now infamously homophobic ads.

Not having done my research, I’m not sure which organization exactly put the pressure on Mars Inc. so I can’t target my frustration at them, but I think that a real opportunity has been missed here. Instead of a knee-jerk reaction to the commercials, I think perhaps a more thought out response would have been best.

In case you don’t know, in the commercial two mechanics share a Snickers® and accidentally “kiss®.” In their fervor to appear “manly®” (read not gay) they rip out their chest hair.

Why is this commercial funny (and I think it is)? Is it because gays are gross? No. It’s the fact that these two moron mechanics are so worried about looking “gay” that they’re willing to rip out their chest hair with their bare hands (hair-free chests do not equal “manly” by the way). We laugh at the fact that these idiots are so homophobic that they’re willing to suffer physical pain in order to not “be gay.”

I say to the gay community, leave the damned ads up so we can all laugh at the stupid homophobes.

Fun Fact: Hamburgers taste just like chopped up cow carcasses sandwiched between two pieces of bread.

That’s a fact.

Visions of the Future

2007-02-12T09:06:00.000-08:00

I’m always asking myself, “who wouldn’t like to see into the future and witness personal glories yet to come?”

…Perhaps condemned people. You know, people who are going to die sometime in the future.

Wait…

I’m always asking myself, ”who the hell would want to see into the future and witness their own grisly fate?”

Anyway, we shot the third episode of Life From The Inside (go to YouTube and search LFTI) over the past two weekends, which is one reason that I haven’t been updating this blog (sorry).

I wanted to give you a sneak peek of the episode, titled “*no substitutions.” But the pictures aren’t back from the set photographer yet (evidently, he would like to have more than a couple hours to sort through the hundreds of pictures he’s taken before I post them here for people to ignore. Man, what a prima donna.).

Luckily for you, one character in this episode wielded a camera and, as directed, snapped off a couple pictures during her scenes. So for your looking enjoyment, here are a few of the fantastic pictures she took while acting. In essence, these pictures are a virtual representation of what it's like to perform in a scene from the "hit" internet sitcom "Life From The Inside."

A preview of Episode 3. The future is now!

Fun Fact: Episode 3 is the episodes that never ends. We still have to shoot two scenes but we’re waiting for a couple weeks so that I can grow a beard.

I’ve actually been growing the beard for the last week also since I wasn’t in any scenes this past weekend. This’ll be good because it takes me about three weeks to grow a two-week beard.

Sometimes I feel like the world’s only physically adolescent thrity-something.

Puberty, come to me!

Bostonians Must Love Their Purell

2007-02-02T10:14:00.000-08:00

At first, it seemed cute. But the more they stared at its tiny brain-boring lights and it’s contemptuous hand gesture, the more sinister it became. “Could this little alien thing be sent here to destroy us all?” thought the good people of the city of Boston. “After all, it seems to be everywhere and that can’t be good, right? Not after 9/11!”

You could almost hear the “/“ being pronounced as it ran through their heads. “9/11.” “9/11.”

Something had to be done. “Shut down the highways. Shut down the subways. Shut down the bridges. Shut down the damned river! Oh, and shut down the “Big Dig” too while you’re at it. Why the hell not? The people are used to that one anyway.

“But a lighted thing like this won’t go easily. It blinks! It’ll need to be blown up. It’s the only way to keep the people safe, isn’t it?

“What if the entire thing was a terrorist plot? A gruesomely genius terrorist plot to put blatantly obvious, Lite-Brite-type characters all over Boston and explode them at once in a hell-fire of Allah-loving, lite-brite hating jingoism? If you think about it, it’s really a brilliant plan. Americans loved Lite-Brite in the 70s. They’ll take these alien-things in and care for them and feed them fast food till they expand to enormous proportions just if they were their own children. That’s when the pain comes.

“Sure other cities have had these things put all over them too, but this is Boston. Boston isn’t like those other cities, willing to tempt fate. Boston isn’t Seattle. Boston isn’t Los Angeles. The day that Boston takes counterterrorism advice from those cities will a cold one in hell my friends. Seattle is nothing but a bunch of sandal-wearing, granola-eating hippies. And Los Angeles!? A bunch of…sandal-wearing, granola-eating hippies! Although people in Los Angeles at least have the decency not to wear socks with their sandals.”

But don’t get too down on Boston. They did the right thing, didn’t they? It’s better safe than sorry, isn’t it?

NO!

Boston is stupid.

But wait! Is that Andre?! And he has a posse! Nooooooo!

Shepard Fairey is the real terrorist.

In other news, go out and buy stock in Purell hand sanitizer. NBC ran a story this morning warning the nation that, if ingested, the slimy stuff can make people drunk.

It’s about to become very popular with teenagers. Especially since Purell is concentrated, making it far more potent per-ounce than regular liquor.

So, to the teens who insist on drinking Purell:

I know that it can taste “nizasty.” But why not try to spruce it up a little. A quick way to do this is by mixing your Purell with better tasting things.

Cool Mint Listerine, for one. It turns regular Purel into a refreshing Latin American cocktail. Like sitting on a beach in Cabo. Ole! Serve in a tall straight glass.

NyQuil. It comes in two fine flavors. Regular “green” NyQuil has an old-school robust flavor that can be mixed with Purell to be enjoyed by teens with a more “adult” palette. Serve in a martini glass. Cherry, or “red,” NyQuil is for the teen who just wants to have fun! Be warned, guys, this drink is mainly for “da la-dies.” If you’re the type of guy who doesn’t care what the others think of you, go ahead and give it a try. But I’d be willing to bet that you’re not that type of dude. You’re drinking Purell for chrissake. Serve in a rocks glass.

The ultimate Purell Purple Passion cocktail.

2 oz. Purell
2 oz. Pineapple Juice
1/2 oz. Cola
Splash of “red’ NyQuil
3oz. Dimetapp Elixer (Cold and Allergy formula)

Mix contents in a blender with ice. Blend until smooth. Serve in a hurricane glass. Garnish with Coricidin HPB. Insert “swirly straw” and take a trip to the tropics!

…Or the hospital. But look on the bright side, at least your guts will be pristine and germ free, your phlegm will be loose, your breath will have a nice grape and cherry taint and your “skittling” high won’t interact with your high blood pressure.

You da’ teen!

Fun Fact: We begin shooting the third episode of the sitcom tomorrow! That means that it should hit the web in about three months.

No, I’m kidding.

Two.

Oh, and most of the news organizations that I’ve seen have blurred the “finger” given by the “Boston Light Terror.”

Stupid.

It Might As Well Be a Flying Car

2007-01-23T09:23:00.000-08:00

Every couple of years we get a sneak peak of the same old future…today!

Usually its’ some kind of household gadget; An oven that can make a 6-course meal out of nothing but stale oatmeal, some chives and a couple of 10-year-old Twinkies, a refrigerator that will do all your shopping, a lamp that will read bedtime stories to your children before tucking them in and turning itself off for the night.

Okay, I made that last one up. But you get the idea.

Eventually technology that had been promised will turn up in a “practical” consumer form. We do actually have cars that parallel park themselves. How long has that tech been in the works? I first heard about cars that would be able to park themselves when I was a kid. Granted, the fantasy cars of my youth could also fly, float and could combine with a half dozen other cars to form one huge super-robot. But the point is that the self-parking technology has finally been applied.

The morning news today decided to dust off another high-tech chestnut. The shopping cart computer. A computer that will direct you to any item in the supermarket and tell you if it’s on sale, in stock or, presumably, expired.

This particular tech gadget always leaves me a little puzzled. Why do the gadget geeks dangle this carrot in front of my nose every couple years? Am I ever going to see one? Probably not for another couple of years, and then only on TV.

It’s just not practical.

I don’t know what kind of Shangri-La the inventors of this gizmo live in, but a trip to my local Albertson’s would put this idea to rest once and for all. There’s no way in hell that any supermarket in my neighborhood would ever invest one of these, much less an entire fleet.

The sad state of the regular, non-computerized shopping carts is testament to that.

My supermarket can’t seem to give me a shopping cart that doesn’t inexplicably lurch to the right every fifth step. I’m lucky if I get all four wheels. And someone, somewhere thinks that my supermarket is going to hand me a computer?

Don’t get me wrong; I would love to see these at my grocery store. It’s just never going to happen. Apathetic jerks are halting progress.

Though I would kind of get a kick out of watching homeless people collect cans and surf the Internet at the same time.

So, stop teasing me with the computerized shopping carts already. Why doesn’t someone invent something useful? Like the solid gold rental car or the posh felted Greyhound Bus Seat or the fingertip friendly crosswalk button? You know, things that people are willing to take care of.

Fun Fact: For the computerized shopping cart to be really useful, it would have to synched up with small transmitters planted in each and every item the supermarket has on the shelves.

That way when I’m looking for Dry Roasted Peanuts (not the unsalted or honey roasted kind) it could tell me:

“Dry/Roasted/Peanuts…there are…one (1)…jars in stock. Isle one, bottom shelf, behind the easy cheese at the back of the shelf next to an errant jar of olives left there two years ago…item expired.”

That would save me some time.

What, no Red Carpet?

2007-01-19T11:07:00.000-08:00

It’s finally here, the premier of Katr Pictures new internet sitcom “Life From The Inside!”

Aren’t you excited? You should be damnit. Get excited. Get pumped. Do whatever you need to do to prepare yourself for the glory of the sitcom.

Am I talking it up too much? Perhaps.

We split it into three parts for easier viewing. It’s not really supposed to be in three parts, but since YouTube has a 10 minute limit for “non-directors” and since the Internet has a notoriously short attention span, this is the way we did it.

Here you go!

Episode 1*

*do not attempt

Episode 2*

*store in a cool dry place

Let me know what you think.

Fun Fact: This sitcom has an insanely low budget. But that’s what friends are for.

Episode 3 begins shooting on the 4th of next month. Tentatively titled “*no substitutions.”

Where’s My Golden Globe?!

2007-01-16T09:29:00.000-08:00

There were many winners – and about 5-times-as-many losers – at the Golden Globes last night. Congrats to Hugh, Forest, Jennifer, Kyra, America, Sacha, Clint, Marty, Jack Nicholson’s determined-looking daughter et al.

But there was one new show that was tragically overlooked at the star-studded gala. The new hit Internet sitcom “Life From the Inside” was nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps it was because it didn’t have a very wide opening. Perhaps it’s because it hasn’t officially “opened” anywhere yet. But the website is almost live. Doesn’t that count for anything anymore? And I have a small portion of the show posted on YouTube. Sure, the tiny bit of the show that I have on YouTube can’t be viewed by the public, but that’s no excuse! We had our official screening party on Saturday! There were at least 13 people there! We served mini quiches!

Shame on you, Golden Globes.

So, in spite of the Golden Globes’ obviously politically motivated snub, I have decided to submit “Life From the Inside” for another – more prestigious – award…

The TAMmy®.

It’s a special award given by the administrator of this blog.

For your consideration:

Here is a preview of the website:

And here is a random clip of the pilot episode. It may seem a bit strange, but you have to remember that there was a method to my madness. I was trying to see what the show would look like using different compression. This was the best. And since I was also testing the sound quality with this particular clip, I used the opening slate.

But you can gleen enough about the episode I think. Like that the title of the show is “Life From the Inside.” That the episode title is “*do not attempt.” And that I have the first credit (the most important).

Enjoy this tiny preview of the pilot episode of “Life From the Inside.” Make note of the awe-inspiring dialogue. Never before has the line “Thank you! Alright…” been uttered with more power.

Fun Fact: Kathy and David took Tanya and I on a life-threatening hike yesterday. Tanya twisted her ankle.

I learned that the drugstore carries a surprisingly diverse assortment of ace bandages. I’ve decided that it’s a carefully executed plan to help dull the pain of your injury. If a wounded person stares at all of the options offered, eventually their brain will numb from the sheer amount of alternatives.

Go to Chez Sarcastica and kiss Tanya’s owie.

God Told Me That Pat Robertson is a Dickhead

2007-01-03T09:54:00.000-08:00

Why does anyone listen to Pat Robertson?

Because he’s a prophet, that’s why.

This year, as is his annual tradition, Pat Robertson made some predictions. But Pat is no Sylvia Browne, he doesn’t get his information in the forms of “visions,” nor does he have Montel Williams so far up his butt that he can taste “idiot” every time he burps. No, Pat’s prognostications come directly from the big man himself, God.

Rev. Robertson predicts that a massive terrorist attack will kill millions in 2007.

Helpful, no?

After all, his other predictions have been so accurate that it’s definitely important to have this latest – and somewhat grim – one given prime air time by all the major media outlets (this blog included).

What has Pat (God) accurately predicted in the past? Well, he predicted that President Bush would easily win reelection in 2004. And Bush did beat John Kerry. Sure, it was by the smallest margin of victory, percentage wise, for any incumbent president in our country’s history (especially in a time of war), but I don’t think that’s what Pat meant by “easy.” In the grand scheme of things, how hard is it to count votes? Let’s face it, it’s not a root canal, it’s not programming a universal remote control, it’s not reading this blog, it’s easy! Vote counting is easy. Chalk one up for Mr. Robertson.

Last year he predicted that the coast of America would be ravaged by a horrible storm, possibly a tsunami. There were some bad storms in the Pacific Northwest. Power was knocked out for a while. A few people even died. It was almost as bad as a Los Angeles August! And there were some terrible rainstorms in the Northeast. Pat already claimed a partial victory on this one, so I can’t give him credit, he already knows.

He predicted that his broadcast network, CBN, would do well in 2005. It didn’t, but that’s not God’s fault. If people would only had bought stock like Robertson (and God) had asked them to…

So it’s definitely important to report every rambling of this man of god. He’s in tune with the universe. He has a direct line to the creator.

Plus, thanks to his super energy drinks, he can leg press 2,000 pounds! Any 77 year-old man who claims to leg press a ton because he’s been drinking his own product should be taken completely seriously in matters of faith. How could you deny that he’s divinely inspired? His Age-Defying energy shake formula has made him super-human! He can leg press 2,000 pounds! How many can you press, puss?

Octogenarian viewers of CBN are out there, forking over their fixed income, buying and drinking shakes, retaining the vitality of youth and leg pressing the hell out of things! What are you doing? Doubting the veracity of Pat’s claims? Shame on you. God will punish you. Like he punished Ariel Sharon, like he’ll punish the gays and the college professors, like he’ll get that Pennsylvania town that wouldn’t accept Intelligent Design into their schools.

Don’t doubt Pat. His prayers have saved many a US city by steering hurricanes away.

So, I guess what I’m saying is look out for a horrific terrorist attack in ’07 that will kill millions of people. Keep an eye out. You just might miss it if you’re not watching closely. But it’ll come in one form or another. Sure, it might not kill millions. It might not be a terrorist attack. Neither of those things may happen. But it’ll come. You can bet on that.

I would just like to conclude by giving a big thanks to NBC and ABC for bringing this story to my attention. It was so completely informative and important that I can hardly stand it. That’s news right there! Couldn’t let this item disappear into obscurity. No! Finally, they got something right! Thanks NBC and ABC, you’re really helping humanity with this one. God bless you.

Fun Fact: Sleep is an activity that can only be enjoyed while it’s not being performed.

I hate that. I would enjoy sleep more, I’m sure, if I could appreciate it while I was doing it. Instead, I’m cursed to go through life only enjoying the idea of it, anticipating it when I’m tired, missing it when I wake up. It’s like some horrible dysfunctional relationship.

You know what? Come to think of it, I hate sleep! Screw you sleep! I don’t need you! Go to hell! Quit beleaguering me!

Sorry, sleep, I didn’t mean that. I’ll see you tonight. Maybe even today at lunch if I’m lucky.

…bitch.

My Dog Has Fleas

2006-12-26T08:26:00.000-08:00

Merry Day After Christmas! I hope you got everything you wanted, world peace and all that. I’m sure that’s what you asked for. World peace.

I got a ukulele. Tanya gave it to me. I got some other great stuff too. But let’s just concentrate on the Ukulele.

It rocks way more than world stupid peace.

I set it next to a quarter since that’s what you’re supposed to do whenever you take a picture of something small.

Hopefully, once I figure out to play the thing, I’ll have a full album of Uke tunes that’ll top the charts for the next decade. I promise that I won’t play “Over the Rainbow.”

Fun Fact: Evidently people have been playing Ukulele for quite a while now. 20 years or more!

Joe Pass, Ladies and Gentlemen

2006-12-19T09:07:00.000-08:00

I wasn't going to post today, but I came across this video on YouTube. Thought I would throw it up here.

With all the sadness lateley over the deaths of Joe Barbara and Peter Boyle, I thought that it would be nice to lighten the mood with some of the greatest jazz guitar ever played.

Okay, that's a flimsy excuse. Just watch the video. Especially if you've ever wondered what your tax accountant would look like playing a mean guitar.

Fun Fact: I taught Joe Pass everything he knew.

What’s a Bimb to Do?

2006-12-18T09:21:00.000-08:00

Sure, while your doing you shopping, your man-boyfriend is probably either playing x-box or screwing the neighbor or screwing the neighbor while playing x-box, but that’s no reason not to give him the perfect Christmas present. It didn’t stop you last year. Or the year before that. But this year is different. Not only will he finally change and become the most perfectest BF evar, you will have found a gift so pure that he’ll even mention it to his buddies the next time they go to Hooters. And, hell, who knows, maybe he’ll even pretend to go to hooters for the wings, just once.

BOD Man “Really Ripped Abs.” Ripped abs in bottle form! Of course they don’t really mean that the bottle contains really ripped abs, that’s just the name of the fragrance. Duh.

What does it smell like? Does it really matter right now? You’ll know soon enough. The delicate applicator dispenses fragrance pints at a time. And it’s easy to use! If your man has ever used a Windex bottle, he can use this. Granted, if your guy needs to apply cologne in this fashion, chances are that he’s never been too close to anything that aids in the cleansing process. His windows are probably smeared with fingerprints and processed cheese of some kind. But that’s okay. It’s easy to teach a man to use a spray bottle. It’s a hell of a lot easier than getting him to stop calling breasts “knockers.” Oh, you know what I’m talking about, ladies.

Men are pigs. But they don’t have to smell like them anymore! Thanks to BOD Men’s line of easy to overuse fragrances. Men can even turn the applicator tip to “stream” for more precise aim in those “hard to reach” areas.

“But will gallons of cologne still smell as strong at the end of the day?” you ask. It used to be that you were never really sure. Before, you would have to go out to dinner or to a movie and count how many people went into sneezing fits, but those days are gone! BOD Man Really Ripped Abs promises that it’s “a fragrance with the staying power of a man.”

Oh, no, don’t worry; they said “a man.” Not, “your man.”

And don’t forget, the spray bottle makes applying fragrance fun! Your guy will think he’s died and gone back to the second grade! Finally, a cologne delivery system designed for the modern, spring-breaking, gold chain-wearing, tattoo-sporting, Emo-hating, average American dude.

Fun Fact: BOD comes in other scents as well! With such variety, there’s something for everyone! Every type of dude can enjoy BOD! There’s BOD Black, it’s “Smooth, potent and smokin’ hot. So beyond what you “or she” has ever smelled before.” There’s “Player,” “X,” “Fresh Guy” (No, it doesn’t smell like a newborn male baby…as far as I know), “Tekno,” “Rock Hard” and more! Every type of man is represented, from the ecstasy-popping young doctor who enjoys a good rave to the ecstasy-popping surfer guy who enjoys a good rave. Everyone!

I Could’ve Done Without for Another Year

2006-12-12T10:03:00.000-08:00

“A Year Without a Santa Claus.”

They remade a Rankin/Bass Christmas Classic. It sucked. Why did it suck so bad? If you had watched it last night, you already know the answer.

1. Santa’s (John Goodman, yes, the same John Goodman that played Santa in that horrible “Frosty Returns” a few years ago, you would think he’d learned his lesson) beard looked as though it was culled from the miscellaneous batting bin at a Michael’s Arts and Crafts Store.

2. Heat Miser and Snow Miser were great casting choices. Who can hate Harvey Fierstein and Micheal McKean? The Miser’s songs are the best numbers in the original show. But something went horribly wrong here. Their songs were mashed together in a cacophony of crap! And what ever happened to the Miser’s minions? In the original, the minions are creepy duplicates of the Miser’s themselves. But in the NBC version, they’ve been replaced by tragically untalented, scantily clad, chubby dancing girls that I can only assume were pulled right off the stage of some “off the strip” Vegas act.

3. When did it become vogue to add that stupid “Desperate Housewives/Ugly Betty” music under every scene? Do we really need the constant barrage of oboe and English horn? If you need music to distract from the script, then perhaps it’s time to think about re-writes?

4. This one is the most heinous. This last point is the reason that I absolutely couldn’t stand NBC’s remake of “A Year Without a Santa Claus:”

Doctor Fucking Laura.

Dr. Laura is who inspired Jingle and Jangle’s plan to save Christmas? Dr. Laura?! Were all of the good psychologists taken? My god, NBC, what have you done?

Seriously though, forget the script. Forget the fact that NBC tried to stretch this already flimsy premise into a “two-hour event.” Forget all that. I’ll tell you why these “instant holiday classics for the entire family” always suck. They’re crammed packed with guest “stars.” Sure, not many people are beating down Harvey Fierstein’s door these days, but the dude still has a schedule to consider. As does every other “name” in the movie. When you have that many schedules to consider there’s no way you can make a quality project in a short amount of time.

Okay Networks, stop making shitty Christmas specials. Stop trying to slap together some piecemeal hunk of tripe and pass it off as a classic. Stop making TV shows like you make fruit cake. Sure candied fruit is tasty, but when it’s surrounded by nuts and some kind of horrible rock-like substance it becomes inedible.

I’m mad at NBC. I’m mad at the entire corporation. I almost spit my pancakes at Matt Lauer this morning. It’s not Matt’s fault. But he’s guilty by association. It a good thing that I’m too cheap to by GE light bulbs because things would have gotten a lot darker around here.

I remember when people made Christmas specials because they wanted to.

Okay, I didn’t watch the entire special. Who puts a “family” special on at 9? If you happened to see the whole thing, did it ever get better?

Fun Fact: Apart from “a new holiday classic from NBC” there are two words on television that drive me to madness. The most annoying words ever uttered on the small screen.

Tyra Mail.

Poster Boy

2006-12-06T08:51:00.000-08:00

Lately, I’ve supposed to have been writing on Life From the Inside (that’s the latest “project” if you’re not hip). As you can tell from the sentence above, lately writing hasn’t been one of my strong suits. So what have I been doing to while away my time and yet keep up the appearance of productivity? Marketing.

Not marketing per se, but the idea of marketing. Or, I should say, marketing ideas. I warned you about the writing. We had a publicity photo shoot before Thanksgiving. Now, we have yet to pick our official publicity photos, and the photos have yet to be completely finished, but in the interest of the “greater good” I went ahead and threw together a quick publicity poster.

So, here it is, the highly unofficial first one sheet for “Life From the Inside.”

Go ahead and ignore that web address for now. Oh, sure, you can go there but you won’t see anything exciting. Not yet. Just wait a little while. I’ll give you the first scoop when the web site is up and running. You’ll be the first. Even before we begin our “official” marketing push. In fact, I’m only putting this poster up here because my readership has dropped so significantly. I figure the ones who are left should be privy to “in the know” info.

Aren’t you special.

Fun Fact: On TV this morning, before the Baker Study Group thing, they were talking about Paris Hilton. I was terrified to learn that Paris Hilton wants to have four children before she turns 30. But as if that wasn’t scary enough, I was reminded of something even more horrifying and completely bone chilling – Paris Hilton is only 25 years old! I guess I knew that, but she’s been in the damned news so long that I forgot just how young she actually was. You know, you figure that if someone has dominated the entertainment gossip for the last 6 years they have to have been around for a while. But then you remember that you can create all sorts of celebrity gossip at a young age if you don’t trouble yourself with college.

Then the idea of Paris not going to college made me wonder just what the hell does she have to offer her future children anyway? A thirst for knowledge? A respect for the human condition? How far can four kids go in the world with nothing but a rudimentary knowledge of small dogs and what’s “hot?” Unfortunately, if you couple that with Paris’ wealth the answer presents itself.

But there was something far more troubling to me than Paris’ desire to procreate. If she’s only 25, that means that we have to put up with her for another 55 to 60 years! Unless, of course, she happens to become the victim of some tragic accident.

Maybe Paris should take up skydiving?

It’s December! Is it Okay Now?!

2006-12-01T10:20:00.000-08:00

Alright, it’s officially December. Is it now okay to listen to Christmas Music? Huh, holiday Nazis?! Am I a freak for wanting to listen to festive music now?!

Am I a freak for wanting to listen to Christmas music in July?

Yeah, okay, I’ll give you that one. I just really like Christmas music. I don’t know why. So I’m glad that it’s finally December so that when I’m walking around a retailer, jamming out to Bing Crosby’s White Christmas on the store sound system I don’t have to listen to the person next to me snidely grumble “Christmas Music already?! Oh my god, it’s only (October/November)! It’s not even (Halloween/Thanksgiving) yet! My oh my what has become of the holiday season!?”

What’s all this rancor about celebrating the holiday season early? So what? Who cares? There’s no need to be insulted by it. It shouldn’t be threatening. It’s fun. And isn’t that what becoming an adult is all about? Eating candy for dinner? Staying up as long as you want? Beginning Christmas festivities in September?

If that’s not what growing up is about, then I don’t want to be 33 anymore.

I don’t want to be 33 anymore anyway, but you get the idea. 23 would be nice. Maybe I’ll ask Santa for that.

By the way, you’re more likely to get what you want from Santa if you start pestering him in July. Persistence is key.

Fun Fact: If human beings inherently viewed the world sideways, TVs would be taller than they are wide.

Also, in case you’re bored on this fine Friday, here’s a link for you. It’s to an Internet sitcom called “The Burg.” (www.theburg.tv) I’ve looked at quite a few independent Internet sitcoms lately and I have to say that this one is my favorite so far (a lot of them are…well…I’ll be polite). They have 8 episodes and some shorts. They’ve been pretty prolific. I’ve got to hand it to them.

But I hear that there is a new Internet sitcom coming in January or so that will totally kick ass! Man, I can’t wait!

TAM Returns

2006-11-27T09:43:00.000-08:00

Back from Washington State. The trip went well. The plane trip was remarkably uneventful. Really, there’s nothing to report. My family is doing well. Tanya’s family is doing well. We drove though E Burg to see the ol’ Alma Matter. It’s pretty much the same.

Nothing.

Oh, I caught a cold. That’s exciting isn’t it? No? Well what do you want from me?!

I wrestled a bear in Spokane. A huge Kodiak bear. Its scorching drool burned my face as I pulled him to the frozen ground with my naked hands. Our fates intertwined in one horrendous death roll. Who would triumph? One of us would eventually rise victorious. The other would be strewn about the snowy earth turning the majesty of winter into a slushy, bloody vichyssoise. The struggle lasted for what seemed to be an eternity. My muscles strained against…

None of that happened. I’m tired of pretending that it did. I was just trying to make my Thanksgiving homecoming more interesting for you. I do everything for you. It makes me sick. I’m tired of living my life for you! No, wait! Don’t go! I’m sorry. Would you like me to make you some hot cocoa? It’s no trouble, really.

Let me give you a little advice: Don’t blog when you’ve got a cold.

Fun Fact: It’s really sad that a couple of extraordinarily good looking people can’t go a for a nice dinner anymore without being savaged by bald-headed hoodlums. Are the hoodlums jealous of the handsome couple’s really cool car? I would be. Who wouldn’t want a silver 2002 Echo with no hubcaps?

My god but those people getting their car valet parked are attractive.

Check out lexreturns.com

Oh, and a special congratulations are in order for Vince and Julie! Your recent news was “engaging” to say the least. Congrats a thousand times! You should buy Tanya and I dinner to celebrate!

Again, never blog with a cold.

Updates!

2006-11-20T09:57:00.000-08:00

Follow-ups, if you will? There have been some “breaking developments” since my last post. Are they important? No. Not really. But I’ll relate them all the same.

Toys for Tots decided to allow Val Kilmer Jesus into their fold. TfT will simply distribute the proselytizing doll to true believers, you know, it will only give the toy to children whose faith is already fully developed. That’s mighty Christian of them.

Also, there’s nothing like good old-fashioned moral outrage.

Geraldo was on the TV this morning talking about the upcoming “hypothetical” OJ interview on FOX. He thinks the interview is in bad taste. Actually, he called it “disgusting.” He doesn’t feel that it’s kosher to profit off of a killer.

Am I wrong, or is this the same man who wasted hours of my life in the 80s with that whole “Al Capone’s Vault” nonsense? I can still remember my disappointment that the vault was empty. Really. This was my first real experience with hype. And boy was I let down. Sure, I’ve resented Geraldo ever since, but that’s not why it bugs me that he’s chastising FOX (his network by the way) for their OJ thing. No my problem is that at last count Al Capone, a convicted criminal, is responsible for dozens of deaths, even committing a few himself, whereas, as far as anyone knows, OJ is only responsible for two (hypothetically). Yes, neither man was actually convicted of murder, but why does Geraldo reserve his moral outrage for OJ? Because OJ’s an asshole? Probably. But “pots and kettles” Mr. Rivera. Pots and kettles.

Bill O’Reilly is mad too and calling for a boycott of the FOX Network and their advertisers because of OJ. He claims moral outrage but I think the real issue is that Bill is afraid that some actual truth might inadvertently escape OJ’s lips. Truth is Bill O’Reilly’s kryptonite.

Let me clarify something here, I think the OJ interview is in very bad taste. I won’t watch it (I won’t have to, I’ll see clips of it all over every news show, you know, so that the news outlets can vent their own moral outrage, ratings have nothing to do with it, they’ll air the clips because they simply can’t believe that someone would actually air them, it’s a logic that would best be left un-analyzed). I hate the fact that OJ Simpson is going to be paid millions of dollars for his time. But that’s the way things work. He was never convicted in a criminal court of the murders. It’s his right to profit off of his experience if he wants to. Like it or not. No one is making anyone watch. FOX also has the right to make money off this endeavor. Let’s not try to pretend like no one ever profits off of other’s misfortune. Usually we try to mask it as “____ undercover” or “the Real Story Finally Revealed” or “the Story you Didn’t Hear” of some such nonsense. “Hypothetically” is just another entry in the lexicon of “Words to Use When Profiting off of Other People’s Misery.” Sure, it’s sick and twisted, but people are sick and twisted. Don’t think so? Have you played a video game lately?

Anyway, I just wanted to update you on the “recent” developments. “Cause that’s the kind of guy I am.

Fun Fact: Michael Richards in for a world of shit. Check out tmz.com to see his racist ranting.

I’m not quite ready to give Michael the benefit of the doubt. The video is pretty damning. But I can almost see what he was trying to do. It’s almost as if he was “hypothetically” being a racist.

Oh, Michael…

Also, from what I can surmise from Mike’s blog, congratulations are in order. So congrats Mike and Jo.

I Am Full

2006-11-15T10:12:00.000-08:00

As of Monday, I don’t need to have any more teeth filled. One more cleaning and the marathon that is my professional oral health campaign is over. I understand that this may not be all that exciting to you, but you have to understand that I’ve been going to the UCLA dental school almost once a week for the last couple months. Things move a bit slower at the dental school. The average visit is three hours. I had 6 fillings, three cleaning and two consultations. That’s almost 33 hours of fun! You would think that I had a couple root canals or bridgework done. Nope, just some fillings and a few deep cleanings.

You can probably begin to understand why I so damned excited that I’m almost done.

Plus, I hate needles, and you haven’t lived until you’ve had a dental student adjust a needle that’s jabbing you in the jaw while being guided by a supervising instructor, “okay, now, just move the needle a little more to the left, more, can you feel the bone? No? Okay, push it in a little more, why don’t you wiggle it around a little more…you know what, why don’t you just take the needle out of the patients mouth and jam it in his eye. Aw, he won’t care…”

In case you were wondering, due to the instructional “trial and error” nature of the dental school, I’ve averaged about 6 shots per visit (not during the consultations) which puts the number of times I’ve had a thin piece of metal lodged in the general vicinity of my check at about 54.

Okay, enough of that. It’s making my skin crawl. On to a slightly less aggravating subject…

OJ Simpson is going to tell us all how he “would’ve” murdered his wife and her boyfriend “if” he had done it.

Hmm.

Personally, I thought the prosecutors did a pretty damned good job of telling us all how The Juice did it the first time. But it will be interesting to hear it from OJ’s own mouth, even if it is all “hypothetical.”

This is no joke. FOX will air a couple of “specials” with OJ to coincide with the release of his book. I’m not going to make any snide remarks about the FOX network, and not only because they put food in my gut, but because I don’t blame them. It’s a good business move. They didn’t talk OJ into telling his “story.” They’ll be able to escape all this with just as much integrity as they’ve always had, the only difference is that they’ll be a hell of a lot richer (that is until the family of Ron Goldman sue them for emotional distress).

OJ’s the one who’ll look like an opportunistic monster. But then again, we already knew that about OJ. I just can’t believe that he’s more interested in having money than looking like he’s innocent.

OJ’s always been a bit on the crazy side but was he always this insane? Or do you think that the guilt of getting away with murder pushed him over the precipice?

Ah, well…hey did I mention that I don’t need to get anymore fillings?

Fun Fact: Toys for tots recently refused to accept the donation of a toy company who makes a talking Jesus doll. The doll quotes scripture and the people at Toys for Tots were concerned that the doll might end up in a non-Christian household and thus be a problem.

What TfT didn’t realize is that’s exactly what the Beverly Hills Teddy Bear Co. was hoping for. The only thing that could be better for the toy company than converting unwitting poor kids would have been if Toys for Tots rejected the donation and the story made national news thus providing free advertisement and an opportunity for moral outrage that would spur sales of their otherwise obscure product…oh.

In case you are looking for a talking Jesus doll, here’s a picture.

And if you don’t like Jesus, you can buy the doll anyway, put dirty clothes on it, soak it in gin and tar heroin and call it the “Val Kilmer as Jim Morrison in The Doors” doll. Pull his string for delicious irony.

Y?!

2006-11-09T09:49:00.000-08:00

First of all, let me say that I’m very excited about the results of the election. I’m happy that the overwhelming majority finally realized that Bush and his cronies are a bunch of idiots. Now it’s the Democrats turn to show just what morons they can be! Go Dems!

Also, the proposed cigarette tax in California failed. The proposition would have increased the cost of a pack of smokes by over $2. A ridiculously unfair tax levied on a small number of taxpayers. Yes, okay, I understand that smoking is bad (I smoke…and I’m trying to quit…there, I said it. I’m trying to quit. Happy now?!), and I approve of encouraging others to quit, or better yet, not to start smoking in the first place. But the cigarette tax as a way to make people quit smoking seemed like a plan similar to the president’s plan to “democratize” Iraq. But the proposition wasn’t greeted as a liberator and cigarettes remain “affordable” at only a little over $4 a pack. Thank goodness.

Okay, this sort of leads me to my point today. As we all know, cigarettes are the root of all of America’s problems. I mean if we didn’t have second hand smoke there would virtually be no more death! The trains would run on time. Brittany Spears could have worked things out with K-Fed. There would be no more drunk drivers, drug deals gone bad, kidnappings, rape, mental illness, air pollution, asthma (as we know, the smog in LA is made up almost entirely of cigarette smoke) and the price of a barrel of crude wouldn’t hold the country hostage anymore.

The city of Santa Monica has taken this to heart, they’ve pass an ordinance to ban smoking on their beaches, at their public areas, restaurant patios, bus stops, movie theatre lines and the Third Street Promenade (which means that since I won’t be able to advertise that I’m a smoker by…well…smoking, questionable people will no longer harass me for smokes, they’ll have to settle for loose change).

Good for Santa Monica, right? I mean, they’ve really taken the public’s health and made it a priority.

Well, on Tuesday voters overwhelmingly approved Measure Y which establishes that crimes involving the adult, personal use of marijuana are the lowest law-enforcement priority for the Santa Monica Police Department.

Yep, it’s now more illegal to smoke cigarettes on Santa Monica streets than it is to smoke pot.

No, no, I can see the logic here. It’s not like marijuana is a hard core drug. I get that. People don’t smoke pot and go crazy. It’s not like Reefer Madness out there. Marijuana is a pretty harmless narcotic (especially if you already have a relatively low amount of brain activity). I mean the only aspect of pot smoking that could be harmful is the smoke. But it’s only a plant. No one has ever been harmed by inhaling the smoke produced by burning a plant right? Besides, the smoke produced by burning a joint or lighting a pipe isn’t really smoke at all. It’s pot smoke. It comes with a really cool mellow buzz.

Here’s the key to making pot smoking safer than cigarette smoking: Hold the smoke in your lungs as long as is humanly possible.

…Santa Monica…

Fucking morons.

Fun Fact: Okay, I’m going to say something kind of embarrassing here, but it’s a fact so I thought I’d share it.

As you know, Kirstie Alley wore a “bikini” on Oprah…

…I thought she was kind of hot.

I must be getting old.

Also, I was looking on the internet to find some pictures of the Santa Monica Pier sign, I couldn’t find any good ones fast, but I remembered that I did some location scouting recently in Santa Monica, so I thought I’d throw my own picture up.

Also also, as an extra bonus, if you’ve ever wondered what it looks like under the famous Santa Monica pier…

Vote!

2006-11-07T10:01:00.000-08:00

Go and vote today.

Oh, and while you're at the polls, maybe think about voting Democrat?

Please? For me?

I have student loans!

Picture Pages, Picture Pages, Time to Get Your Picture Pages

2006-10-30T11:18:00.000-08:00

Your crayons and your pencils are optional.

I thought that I had a dentist appointment this morning. Turns out that I actually have one this afternoon. I should really learn to read those little cards they give you so that you can keep track of your appointments.

Anyway, I now have time to post some pictures from the episode 2 shoot of Life From the Inside. The photos were taken by our incomparable set photographer David Beall. He gave me a couple disks full of pictures yesterday, so I thought I would go ahead and post some of them here (don’t worry, the other producers said it was okay…were you really worried about that? If you were, you’re probably a publicist of some sort.)

So, without any further ado, here are David’s Pictures of the second episode of Life From the Inside. Enjoy.

Oh, and just so you know, there are a couple pictures of one of our rehearsals in here.

Tanya and Kathy directed this one. Good friend, Kevin Sage, did our camera work for the first weekend. Even better friend, me, did the camera work for the second weekend (the outdoor stuff). Kathy had the joy of running the boom for the second weekend, but what you can’t see is that on-set photographer, David, did the boom work for the first weekend (evidently David isn’t “skilled” enough to run boom and take pictures of himself doing it, and – yes – we were a bit shorthanded on this episode, but don’t let that discourage you, it’s really funny – if I do say so myself).

Man, this is a lot of pictures.

And if you ever wanted to know what it’s like to direct an episode of LFTI…

Fun Fact: Working on a project like this can be exhausting.

And showering with your clothes on is an unnatural feeling.

Root, Root, Root for the Home Team

2006-10-25T09:27:00.000-07:00

I was watching the Presidential Press conference this morning, learning the subtle differences between benchmarks and timetables when I realized that not only was I extremely frustrated with political semantics, but I was also really, really…bored.

Yes, press conferences bore me. Especially now. Sure, every once in a while someone will stand up and ask the President a “hard” question (“hard” meaning that the President can’t answer it without looking like a complete boob). But the President doesn’t answer the hard questions. He dances around them. He changes the subject. He argues semantics, thus my education began on benchmarks and timetables.

(Okay, I do know that there’s a difference between timetables and benchmarks. I know what those differences are. I understand what the President is saying when he makes the distinction, but really, who cares. Doesn’t it seem a little late in the game to finally come up with goals? Shouldn’t we have had benchmarks in place from the beginning? Am I alone in this?)

Sorry, I’m getting off topic.

As I was watching the conference on ABC, rolling my eyes and hoping that things would get interesting and informative, Jessica Yellin stood up to ask a question. I don’t remember what the question was exactly, but it wasn’t the point. Jessica Yellin is a correspondent for the ABC network.

I don’t know why, but I always get a little excited when I’m watching a press conference and a correspondent from the network that I’m watching the conference on gets up to ask a question. It makes me feel good. It makes me feel like one of the “home” guys is making a score. The networks don’t have any control over who the President calls on for questions. Theoretically, the entire press conference could be broadcast on ABC without the local kids getting to ask anything. So, when it happens, it must be a big deal.

I imagine the newsroom getting very excited when one of their own gets the mic and stands up in front of the Pres. And for some reason, that makes me happy. “Roll Jessica’s Graphic! Roll Graphic!” they shout. There’s a buzz. And then, after the impressive screen-bottom graphic (better than the ones they use for “the other guys”) a satisfied silence at a job well done.

I spent the rest of the press conference hoping that another correspondent from ABC would be called on. I don’t know if they’re allowed more than one. But I had high hopes. It made the press conference much more interesting to me. It was like a sporting event.

Does this make me super-lame?

Probably. But try it some time. It could be a fun early-morning reason to have a celebratory beer.

Drink responsibly.

Fun Fact: The workers left their radio on next door when they went home. It was blasting out Mexican Easy Listening all evening. Someone was forced to break in and turn it off so that they could get a decent night’s sleep. Someone had to trespass, Indiana Jones style, to find that damned radio, hidden on the second floor of one of the unfinished condos, and try turn the freaking thing off without stting loose a giant boulder. Someone ended up just unplugging it because they couldn’t find the power button. Someone took the opportunity to explore a little. Someone thinks that the condos will be pretty cool, but not as large as they had envisioned.

Someone also thinks that the construction site’s scaffolding that surrounds the building is pretty damned rickety. The construction company is lucky that someone didn’t fall.

Someone would have been pissed.

Captured

2006-10-18T09:41:00.000-07:00

Okay, in lieu of anything interesting to say today, I’ve decided to post some screen captures from “the project.” Yeah! Isn’t this fun! I would have posted nice and clean-looking pictures taken by our on-set photographer (yes, we actually have one), but the pictures are still “in the lab” (i.e. on his computer waiting to be tweaked). So, screen captures are what you get. Stop complaining.

As you know, “the project” will hit the Internet in January (or at least that’s what we’re planning).

And here are some pictures from “the Project; Part Two.” We just shot the first half of “Part Two” last weekend; we’ll finish it up on Sunday. I’m looking forward to it.

Fun Fact: I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this before, but “the Project” has name. It’s actually titled “Life From the Inside.” That’s a fact.

And it’s very time consuming…

Mexican Easy Listening Isn’t So Easy to Listen To

2006-10-13T09:51:00.000-07:00

Most easy listening is actually hard on the ears. I don’t generally listen to it so it’s not a problem. But lately, I’ve been listening to a lot of Mexican Light Hits. I listen to them most of the day.

Oh, not because I choose to. Lately, the soundtrack to my life is being provided by the workers at the construction site next door. They decided that the perfect place for their communal – and surprisingly loud – stereo is right outside my kitchen window. Of course it’s the one window that doesn’t really close all the way. A typical California slatted-glass number.

The workers have constructed a scaffolding around their building so that they can finish the outside of it which means that their work site is now about three feet closer to my kitchen. Of course, they set their stereo on the scaffolding. What good is blaring your horrible music if you can’t do it from your neighbor’s lap? If I could get my arm out the slatted window, I could just reach out and turn the stereo down myself. But I can’t. (Well…I could, but that would require removing some of the glass slats and then I’d have to clean them and the point is not to add aggravation to my life.)

Also, I can’t seem to figure out which idiot over there is the foreman. The guy I usually talk to isn’t in charge of this particular crew…

Anyway, getting back to the smooth hits of Mexico. I don’t have a lot of experience with this type of music. Mariachi music I’m familiar with. Mariachi music I like. But this stuff is in a class by itself. It’s not that different from the “American” stuff. Just as insipid. Just as uninspired. Just as horrible. Only the Mexican brand is in a fun language that I don’t understand which means that I don’t have to endure the trite lyrics that I’m sure the songs have.

But I am a little curious. See, I took French in high school (very useful) so there’s no real hope of my being able to translate any of the sounds that are blasting from my kitchen. Not that I really want to, mind you. But, like I said, I’m curious and I’m sure that I missing the nuance of just how bad this music is. I’ll pick up a word or two here and there. I know that “amor” means “love” and crap like that. But for the most part, I’m in the dark.

I’ve had to guess at the translation. Here’s what I’ve inferred:

SUAVE DJ:
Smooth hits for your construction site; you’re listening to KSMX. Smooth Mexican hits from yesterday…and today! KSMX-X-X-X-X-X-X. And don’t forget the KSMX music festival this weekend at the Palms Amphitheater. Bring a hammer! KSMX-X-X-X-X-X-X-X.

SOULFUL CROONER:
You’re my everything
My life’s reward
I learned to play guitar
Because I was bored

Now I get the ladies
But I really dig the guys
Last week I caught scabies
On my inner thighs

Please buy my records
Play them once or twice
You can annoy the neighbors
Wouldn’t that be nice

I-I-I-I-I-I-I
Love to make your ears bleed

You-u-u-u-u-u-u-u
Should learn how to read

I-I-I-I-I-I-I’m
Court ordered to say that last line

I-I-I-I-I-I-It’s
Part of my public service sentence

Do-o-o-o-o-on’t
Pay homeless men for sex in a park restroom

Trust me
Baby I love you

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I hate Mexican Easy Listening.

Fun Fact: All Mexican easy listening includes the lyric “o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o.”

That’s a fact. I know. I’ve done the research.

Damn You, Bill Clinton

2006-10-11T09:16:00.000-07:00

Damn you, Ramadan. Damn you, liberal pussies. Damn you, Democrats.

Damn you, everybody but President Bush. Why have you screwed up things so badly?

The president just wants to be flexible in his Iraq policy by not changing it one iota. He wouldn’t have to look so hypocritical if former administrations hadn’t turned everything into such a debacle. It’s been a long time since Bill Clinton was the leader of our country and it’s still his fault that things are all fucked up.

I hope the next administration can find a way to blame Bill Clinton as much as George HW Bush does. Bill deserves it for keeping us relatively safe from terrorists, nurturing a booming economy, making the United States a greener place and putting more money in the pockets of average Americans. Screw you, Bill Clinton.

That’s what you get for receiving a BJ in the Oval Office.

Fun Fact: On a much lighter note Jared and Tosha have had their first baby! Congrats to them! It’s a boy named Luca A Woods-V (I’ve abbreviated that a little to protect the kid’s identity).

I’ve already asked and, yes, the baby does live on the second floor, but unless you live in a very specific place, he probably doesn’t live upstairs from you and, no, you probably haven’t seen him before.

No word yet on whether the new baby will betray the Corleone family.

Congratulations again to Jared and Tosha, I hope to see the kid next month. I can’t believe that you two are parents! You’ll be great ones, but damn you’re making me feel old!

NOW WITH PICTURES!

Don’t Mess With My Mouth

2006-10-06T09:06:00.000-07:00

You don’t want to, you say? Well, my friend, there are those who would. I’m not just being paranoid here because I’ve been to the dentist every Monday for the past month and I have to keep going back every week until the end of time.

I was watching the news this morning and amid the Amish funerals, stupid weddings, stories about local FOX news-teams being harassed by protesters and Republican Congressional page scandals (seriously though, the Republicans have built their entire political platform on lies, exclusion, greed and denial of civil liberties and the thing that might bring them down is a bunch of lame-ass “sexy” emails?! We care more about who knew the truth about this stupid crap than we do about who knew the truth about Iraq’s WMD program…my god, we’re all doomed) I saw something truly frightening.

That’s right, look at that image above. Look closely. It’s not a joke. The people at Oscar Meyer actually want kids to sprinkle “Sour Tongue Teasing Fizz” on their little Ritz pizzas. That “fizz” is pretty much like powdered Pop Rocks. They also want kids to put it on their mini tacos and hamburgers (not pictured…you’re welcome).

Now I could be crazy and I haven’t been a kid for a long time now so it’s hard to remember, but I don’t believe that there was ever a time when I was younger – not ever – that took a bite of a hamburger, taco or pizza and thought to myself “golly, if only this was a little more SOUR…!”

And the sad thing is that we adults looks at stuff like this and think “damn, kids will eat ANYTHING!” but the fact of the matter is that kids aren’t coming up with these products. Oscar Meyer doesn’t have a 10-year-old in charge of research and development. It’s some jerk in a suit. And he’s surrounded by other jerks in suits who sit around a table somewhere and say things like “kids like hot dogs, kids like Snickers bars, lets make an all beef hot dog with a caramel center!”

“Peanuts too?!”

“Hell yeah peanuts! Wouldn’t be a Snickers Dog without the peanuts!”

Why?

What has happened?

Are we so starved for stimulus nowadays that we have to market nauseating “food” for kicks? Aren’t Lunchables disgusting enough? I’ve actually eaten the tacos and the hamburgers. They already taste like vomit. Is sour vomit really an improvement? I don’t know. I haven’t tried the “Mess With Your Mouth” variety yet. Chances are, I won’t. Ipecac is cheaper.

And while we’re at it, let’s discuss that Air Heads “Mystery” flavored treat that’s included in the meal. Is it really a mystery? I’ve had it, it’s good. It’s not a mystery what flavor it is though.

It’s sugar.

Actually, I believe that it’s a mixture of every flavor Air Heads makes. That’s my theory anyway. But if they wanted it to really be a mystery they’d make it some inexplicable flavor.

I say make it bacon flavored!

Bacon flavored Air Heads. Why not? Kids would go crazy trying to figure it out. They would never suspect bacon…or maybe they would. They eat some crazy shit these days. But as for the Lunchables, bacon flavored taffy is the perfect end-of-the-meal compliment. I mean, what do you eat for dessert when your meal is covered in candy?

Bacon flavored taffy, that’s what.

Oscar Meyer, you’re messing with more than my mouth here. Damn you.

Fun Fact: I’ve been neglecting this blog lately because I’ve been busy working on “the Project.” We started rehearsals for the second part of it and they are great fun. I can’t wait for you to see the finished product.

Here are some new labels I’ve had to make. Think of them as a really lame “preview.” Enjoy.

A Man Possessed

2006-09-29T09:34:00.000-07:00

That’s me. I was out until 1:00 this morning, playing with the demon spawn of hell. But why was I hanging out with Tanya, Stephen and Sue last night in the first place?

We went to the opening night of Knott’s Scary Farm (or Knott’s Halloween Haunt or whatever you want to call it). This is the second year that Tanya and I have gone to the event. Stephen has gotten us into it. He is the foremost fright-fest fan. Myself, I usually prefer to sit around at home coming up with not-so-clever alliterations.

But I had a great time at the Haunt again this year. It seemed more inspired somehow. The monsters were particularly eager (most of them anyway; bored, crazy clowns exempted).

We generally attend the “pre-scare” dinner, which gets us into the park early and allows us to stuff our guts with copious amounts of food, the likes of which I haven’t eaten since grade school (I recommend the hamburger macaroni). This greases the wheels nicely and focuses you on your distended belly, taking your mind of the masses of monsters lurking behind every corner, bush, garbage can, information kiosk…

I would write more about the whole evening, but I’m freaking tired! Plus I’m trying to work a lot of Dippin’ Dots through my lower intestines, so I need some “me” time.

If you live in Southern California and haven’t gone to the Scary Farm, go!

And thanks, Stephen, for the invite!

Fun Fact: Powdered sugar-laden funnel cakes and those picnic tables with the wire mesh tabletops don’t mix.

For the latter half of the night my jeans looked as if they had spent the evening in a nightclub restroom with Lindsay Lohan.

Tables are supposed to stop food from landing on your lap! Isn’t that why they were invented in the first place?!

Unclehood Redux Redux

2006-09-26T08:53:00.000-07:00

I’ve gotten a few “requests” to replace the picture of the rubber baby being birthed from the rubber vagina (see previous post). Let me take care of that with some pictures of my brand new – real-life – niece.

In case you forgot, she didn’t have a name for a little while. Well, she has one now. It’s Sorrel Sage Stewart. A fun name. Any name become more fun when you add alliteration! Now the kid’s initials are cool. SSS. It’s always important to put some thought into your child’s initials. It will come in handy when they get high scores on classic video games or when they go off to college and need to identify their CDs so that their roommates won’t steal them.

So, this is my niece. The second picture is my favorite because she looks like she’s having a heated conversation on an invisible phone. Give ‘em hell Sorrel.

Fun Fact: I am also quite fond of Sorrel’s name because she sounds like she hails from Krypton. They just need to change the spelling to Sor El, then she be “super” cool.

Unclehood Redux

2006-09-22T08:59:00.000-07:00

Everything’s cooler when you put the word “redux” after it. But only in the “Apocalypse Now Redux” way, not if you’re overweight and poisoned yourself in the 90s with get-thin-quick pills.

Anyway, my sister had another baby. That’s three for her. I’ll post some pictures here when I get them. It’s a girl and she has no name.

So, congrats, Mandy, on your new no-named baby! Congrats, mom, on your latest nameless grandchild, this is what it’s like to have a grandkid who’s name you don’t know…let me know when you’ve gotten used to that idea…we’ll talk.

Virtual pink cigars all around.

I would post more about my new niece but I don’t know much; she has no name, she was 7 pounds 5 ounces, she was born at home in a kiddie pool (which is cool as long as once the baby pops out, you’re not suddenly struck with an inspiration to name the kid “Nemo”), she’s a girl and she’s quite young.

Oh, and she’s obviously a genius.

Fun Fact: My sister hasn’t picked a name because, obviously, there is some debate about it. They also didn’t know the gender until the baby poked its head out to say hello (well, it’s nether-regions anyway).

So I have a suggestion.

Talula.

There aren’t enough Talula’s in the world.

Oh, and that picture at the top is not of my mannequinesque sister giving birth to my rubber-headed niece, it’s a simulated representation (without the kiddie pool and – thankfully – any details that might factually represent the messy event)(also, my sister had the baby at home with the help of a midwife that, as far as I know, didn’t just stand there pointing at my niece’s head).

Criminalize Me?!

2006-09-18T09:43:00.000-07:00

I’ve been running lately. For exercise. It was actually Tanya’s idea and I’m glad that she decided that she wanted to do it. I can now run 20 minutes non-stop. It’s only two miles, but hey, it’s a start!

Anyway, I bring this up because since we’ve been running, we haven’t been going to the gym. And since I’m the only man on the planet who starts running and then gains weight, I decided that I needed to hit the gym again. So this morning we went.

The trouble started when we drove home.

I’m sitting in the left turn lane behind two other cars, waiting for an opportunity to make my turn. Since the car at the front of the line had some kind of testicular diminution surgery, the only chance I had to turn without waiting around for the next light came as the light turned yellow.

Here in LA we have what I call the “California Caravan” or the “Tinseltown Train.” It’s when a long line of cars pull through a stale yellow light that turns red to make a left turn. Normally, it would be an illegal turn, but here in Los Angeles the general rule is if your bumper is less than a foot away from the car in front of you, you “technically” count as one car thus making the turn legal again, since the car at the front of the line was in the intersection while the light was still green. The long line of cars becomes a small train, moving as one.

Normally, I don’t like to be part of this phenomenon. It’s kind of a dick move. But since my arms were hurting from the gym and since the first car didn’t have the cojones to make their turn when they had the chance thus making me desperate, I decided to become the caboose.

Evidently, no one told the chic in front of me how the Tinseltown Train works because she slammed on her breaks in the middle of the intersection. I don’t know why she did it, but she was leaving me stranded in the intersection with the cross-traffic bearing down on me, so I gave her a polite “beep beep.”

I didn’t lay on the horn. Just a beep, beep. Short. Controlled. It’s the most polite form of honking there is, mostly because of its restraint, but probably also because it reminds people of the Road Runner. And who doesn’t like the Road Runner?

But the bitch in the car in front of me didn’t take to it. Maybe she’s foreign? Maybe she doesn’t understand how things work here in America? But she got very mad. She started to drive very slowly. When I made a move to pass her in the other lane…she swerved at me!

She actually swerved at me. I don’t take kindly to that. So I pulled in behind her and followed her (she wasn’t going to let me pass anyway, she started pacing the car in the other lane so that I couldn’t). At the next red light, I had to make another left turn, so I was forced to pull up next to her. Needless to say, she moved to the lane furthest from me. Good.

But when I looked over to take a gander at the kind of lady who thinks that vehicular manslaughter is the way to solve driving disputes, she had her cell phone pointed at me.

She was taking a picture of me.

I don’t know why, but apparently she thought that I was about to start some serious shit. Me?! She’s the one that swerved at me! All I did was beep, beep!

First this hideous whore-gorgon wants to strand me in the intersection, then she wants me to rear-end her, then she deliberately and threateningly swerves at me, then she won’t let me pass and I’m the fucking bad guy?!

All I wanted to do was get home from the gym and put my arms in a bucket of ice. I was so offended. I couldn’t believe that she was treating me like some kind of violent thug! I’m not a violent thug. I don’t have a violent bone in my body!

I tell you, it was enough to make me want to pull her from her Volvo and beat her with her own shoes.

What a bitch.

Fun Fact: I got to work with my first real celebrity last week. I did some PA work for a small shoot with Bradley Whitford.

I have to tell you, Bradley Whitford is one cool guy. My hat is off to anyone who’s not afraid to climb up a loading dock in an expensive suit. Between takes he sat on the concrete floor of the sound stage or with the rest of us (there weren’t very many people on this shoot) shooting the breeze about politics (it was a political shoot). Very friendly and dedicated. I have a new respect for the man. Plus, he is one hell of a professional.

Thanks Brad, for not being a dickhead. I feel enchanted and illusioned with Hollywood.

Tease Me, Please Me

2006-09-12T08:59:00.000-07:00

Okay, we’ve done it. The new project has been shot!

Like I said, I don’t want to let the cat completely out of the bag yet, not until we’ve “officially” “launched” it. But I will post a picture here today. Steve posted it on his web page yesterday (midnight the day before yesterday anyway). I like the picture so I’m going to “borrow” it and repost it here.

Here. I think it’s pretty representative of the project. It’s pretty much what the whole thing is about.

Olives and pimentos.

Thanks Steve. It’s a great picture. And I guess it’s become our first real publicity photo.

Fun Fact: If you don’t already know what the project is, you’ve probably guessed that it’s some kind of video project. It is. I’ve been watching the raw footage and I have to tell you that I think it’s going to be great. I mean, really quite good. I don’t want to talk it up too much but…it’s good.

However, it wouldn’t be nearly as good as it is without the help of a bunch of fantastic people with unlimited talent.

Thanks you Tanya, Kathy, Steve, Adam, Corrie, Vince, Jimmy, David, Kevin, Allen (I hope I’m spelling your name right – Alan? Alen? AaLlen?) and last but not least Lauren ( I hope I spelled your name right also).

It’s not the largest group of people in the world, but when you add their talent, heart and dedication to the equasion, they’re twice the population of China.

Thanks.

Wait for It…

2006-09-07T09:06:00.000-07:00

I’ve been very busy lately. More busy than I’m used to. Usually if I have to get the mail, that’s a full day. But I’ve got a project in the works and phase one is making way for phase two to begin on Saturday.

I know that I’m being purposefully vague about the project and chances are that most of you already know what the project is and are saying to yourselves “why the secrecy? What does TAM think he’s creating anyway? I know what the project is and trust me, it’s not worth all this intrigue.”

I know that it’s not, but I don’t want to talk too much about it right now until it’s ready to be announced officially. And then, trust me, you won’t be able to get me to shut the hell up about it.

For the moment, enjoy a brief preview of some of the work that I’ve been doing lately. This is just some rudimentary graphics work that I’ve had to do to prep the project. As you might have noticed, there’s a colorized version of the TAM Cartoon at the top of the page. Exciting! Well, I’d like to say that I colorized that cartoon out of love for the strip, but alas, it was because of the project.

Enjoy these other fine works! I’m not going to explain them simply because…well…It’s just not that important and it would mean more typing for me and I’m slow enough as it is and I have other things to do today to get ready for the weekend. There.

Fun Fact: This has been turned into a painting to compliment the other painting I did not too long ago.

G’Day Steve

2006-09-05T09:24:00.000-07:00

I’m really bummed. Like really bummed. Steve Irwin is dead. I’ve always been a fan. I liked that guy. He was passionate and weird. Say what you want about the cat, he was genuine. He was cool. And now he’s gone. Crocodiles everywhere have nothing to look forward to now except to be turned into Gucci purses.

I was shocked to hear the news. But I first heard about it from NBC’s Today Show. I didn’t know how he had died. They were re-running an interview that Matt Lauer did with Steve a few years ago after the incident when Steve turned his month-old baby Bob into the world’s youngest Croc Baiter.

In the interview, Matt Lauer was on his high horse, baiting his own croc, firing all kinds of righteous indignation at Mr. Irwin. “How could you do something like this?” “Doesn’t it seem irresponsible?” Palaver like that. Steve sat there defending himself. Getting very defensive. He probably didn’t like some yahoo telling him how to act around crocodiles. After all, Steve Irwin was one of the foremost authorities on the animal. Steve probably wanted to yell out to Matt “Matt, do you know the history of crocodiles?! ‘Cause I do!” But he didn’t. He stayed cool. Well, as cool as he ever was. He was a bit high strung.

Anyway, I’m watching this whole thing. I knew that Steve Irwin had died because it said so on the ticker at the bottom of the screen. I couldn’t wait for Matt to get done belittling Steve so that I could find out what had happened. But no. They played the entire interview. I had to hop on line to find out what had happened.

A stingray?!

Kinda’ cool really. Not many people get killed by stingrays.

But here was a man who did a lot for conservation and zoology and the only tribute NBC could slap together was a 2004 interview of Matt Lauer reading the guy the riot act?! Nice work NBC. Very classy.

Jerkasses.

Why did NBC choose such a bizarre clip? Because it was NBC’s only exclusive interview with Steve Irwin. Sure, they had other clips. Steve’s been on the Today show a few times. But this clip was an “exclusive” and NBC wanted to remind everyone just how cool they were.

Self-serving jerkasses.

I’m getting mighty tired of NBC. And Meredith Vieira hasn’t even started yet. I was going to save most of my rancor for after she started, but I’m not sure if I can hold out that long.

Good-bye, Steve Irwin. You will be missed.

Fun Fact: We have stingrays here in Southern California. Which means that now we have to hear all about the dangers of Stingrays. How deadly are they?! When will we all be killed by them?!

Like about .00001 people a year die of stingray attacks. But now that one killed Steve Irwin, every news outlet everywhere has to wonder if Stingray attacks will increase. Could there be a Stingray conspiracy that has finally come to a head?

More people were killed by Stingrays on the Sunset Strip than ever were by Stingrays in the ocean. But you can mostly blame Chevrolet for that one, for marketing sports cars to rich drunken idiots.

Hopefully the Stingray crap will end soon. Please tell me it will end soon!

Watch, now a Stingray’ll probably kill me. Damn you irony.

Die Motherf*cker!

2006-08-31T08:54:00.000-07:00

How will we all die, you ask? Well, that’s a good question, and one that deserves to have our advertisement-divided attention for two hours. Thank god for the ABC network.

“The Last Days on Earth” aired last night. A dramatic laundry list of the most catastrophic ways that humanity can meet its final demise. Interspersed between the CGI “Armageddons” were testimonials of what people would do if they learned that the life as we know it was going to end in the near future. Stuff like “If a big asteroid were coming to devastate the planet I’d:”

Spend time with my family.
Take that vacation that I’ve always wanted.
Cry.
Go on a shopping spree.

You know, important stuff like that. I suppose that I should go easy on these people in the testimonials. After all, they’ve been asked an incredibly dumb question. What the hell difference does it make? Unless you’ve got the money and know-how to build a planet-killing-asteroid-proof bunker…or a new planet, any answer you give is just an exercise in creative writing.

But I would like to see some of these people be honest. Granted, I didn’t watch the entire show, so I might have missed something, but I didn’t see anyone say “If a big asteroid were coming to devastate the planet I’d run around like a fool, throw some garbage cans through a few store windows and loot and pillage like there’s no tomorrow…which, ostensibly, there wouldn’t be.”

Pretty much everyone was taking the high road. I don’t blame them; they were on TV after all. But come on, we all know what it would really be like if we all discovered that the world was coming to an end. It would be chaos. It would be hell on earth. Madness. Confusion. No one would be taking vacations because the planes and trains and boats wouldn’t be running. Hell, you’d be lucky if you could get gas for your car. Gas station employees barely work now as it is. The last thing that anybody wants is to spend their few remaining days on earth working the cash register at the Flying-J.

Personally, I’d probably just shoot myself. I couldn’t deal with the violent madness. And if nothing else, I’d kill myself just so I didn’t have to listen to those idiots with the “Welcome Back Jesus” banners and their incessant “I told you so-s.”

But the reality is that I probably won’t have to kill myself. The odds of a giant asteroid hitting the planet are fairly remote. I just don’t worry about such things anyway because, I mean, what’s the point?

Here are some of the other ways in which ABC wants you to know that you can die along with everyone else you’ve ever met.

Death of a Star (Gamma Ray Burst and Black Hole):

A star could implode near us and we could be pounded with gamma rays or it could suck our universe into a black hole. The black hole thing sounds cool, but we’d all be crushed into a singularity. And I don’t really like my neighbors all that much to spend the rest of eternity being one with them.

Death by Machine:

No, they don’t mean being pulled into the automated pig masher at the local slaughterhouse. They’re talking about AI: Artificial Intelligence. I wasn’t a huge fan of that movie, but I don’t think it would cause massive death. I kid. No, scientists are afraid of robots. Smart robots to be exact. One thing that you must remember is that scientists are geeks. They worry about these kinds of things. Hey scientists, if you don’t want computers to take over the world then here’s some advice: Stop trying to invent computers with the capability to take over the freaking world!

Again, this problem is pretty remote and a little bit stupid. But it’s a cool and scary way to die so it was on the show.

Super Volcano:

A really, really, really big volcano. A volcano that will erupt without you even knowing it until you’re about to die. That’s something to worry about, huh? Think of all the positive things that can come from worrying about a super volcano eruption that you have no hope of preventing. Just embrace the super volcano. Embrace your firey death! Why not? What other choice do you have?

Asteroid Strike:

I already mentioned this one. If you saw “Armageddon” with Bruce Willis, you know what will probably happen. Also, if you saw Armageddon…I’m sorry.

Nuclear War: (read politics)

Scientists are still really concerned about nuclear war. I’m not all that worried myself. See, when I was a kid, I was terrified of nukes. I thought that just one of them could destroy the planet. They can’t. Sure, they all could. But there’s little chance of all the world’s nukes going off at once. Nuclear bombs will more than likely just fuck everything up for a while. And I think I can live with that. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t stop building them. We should. We should dismantle all the world’s nuclear bombs. I’m just saying that they’re not all that scary to me anymore. Hey, they're no Super Volcano.

Germs/Disease Plagues and Bioterrorism: (read politics)

My computer doesn’t know how to spell bioterrorism. It’s a relatively new threat. Sure, we had mustard gas in WWI and that was nasty. But new militarized strains of disease are worse. These are scary. And we can try to get rid of all the bioweapons. But, realistically, if an asshole has his heart set on releasing this crap, there’s nothing we can really do about it. Why not write to your congressmen and tell them to have the Pentagon destroy all of the stockpiles? Washington DC controls way more bioweapons than Saddam could have ever hoped to.

Global Warming: (read politics)

The scariest of them all. Why? Because this one is the only one completely controlled by money. Money is motivating global warming. Money and convenience. Why has President Bush cut the environmental protection laws? Is it because the atmosphere is doing just fine the way it is? Sitting up there, above our heads, looking cute and being all disproportionately “carbon dioxidey?”

It might have to do with competing in a global marketplace. It’s the battle of who could care less out there. It costs money to be environmentally responsible. And, my god, that might hurt the economy (thank god that Bush cut those repressive laws! Our economy is thriving!)! The misconception is that if factories are made to be more responsible, they’ll lose money, the price of the goods they manufacture will rise, American consumers will turn up their noses, everyone will start buying tee-shirts from China and the commies will take over the world!

That’s true a little bit. It will cost more…at first (and it’s a forgone conclusion about the commies, face it). But shit, what other choice do we have? Bushie and his cronies will tell you that we can’t compete with China. “China’s not being environmentally responsible! Why should we?!” Look, Bushie, if China jumped off a bridge, would you? No, really, if I could convince China to jump off a bridge, would you? Please?

That’s why global warming is so scary. It’s real. Life will change as we know it. I’m telling you this now. But you already know it. Other people have been telling everyone for years. Since at least the mid 80s, we’ve known about global warming. We were told that if we didn’t do something about it soon, life as we know it would change forever.

I know change is hard. It’s too convenient not to die!

Maybe it’s time to go on that shopping spree?

…Or loot.

Fun Fact: I dislike our President. I think he’s an ass. I saw that interview with him by Brian Williams. Honestly, can anyone out there explain to me why we elected this clown?

Really. I want someone who voted for Bush to defend him. I have to know. Why?! Why would you vote for him? Because he could deal with the terroists? What the hell made you think that? Because he had such an illustrious military career? Please help me! Is it because he’s a “Christian?” Is it worth selling out the rest of humanity just so that gays can’t marry or women can’t have abortions? Please? Please!

Sorry, I’m getting emotional. But, I’m telling you, I’ve just about had it. I’ve reached my “smug indifference” limit.

I hate George W. Bush. That’s a fact.

Tar Nation

2006-08-28T10:00:00.000-07:00

They’re doing the roof on the new condos next door. Fumes are filling my apartment. I would close the windows but it’s supposed to be hot today. 90°.

The heat and the smell make me feel as if I’m a roofer. I’m getting the virtual roofer experience. I have a couple of ex-step-relatives who were roofers. Now I know what they were going through. But I have to tell you it doesn’t seem all that bad. They used to complain that it was strenuous work. What a bunch of crybabies. Apart from the smell and the heat there’s nothing to this roofing business. Just sit around smelling tar, sweating and working on a computer. What’s so hard about that?

And I haven’t fallen off a roof once so far this morning.

However, I think the fumes are starting to get to me. So we’ll see about that “falling off a roof” thing. A couple more good, heavy lungs full of steaming petroleum and I’ll probably go up on my roof for the purpose of falling off. Luckily, I’m a smoker so I’m used to having my lungs filled with tar. And the chances of me getting a “good, heavy lung full” of anything are remote.

See, there are upsides to being stupid.

The fumes are getting to me though. Perhaps it’s the missing nicotine?

I’m just going to sit here watching the polar bear in the corner and wait for one of the workers to fall off the roof. Because, let’s face it, the job’s not over until one of the roofers breaks a leg.

Fun Fact: Last night I wasn’t hallucinating when I ran across the insectoid monster that decided to make my ceiling fan home. It was this largish, green, cricket/grasshopper/praying mantis-looking thing. It was creepy. And I almost touched it!

See, it wasn’t enough for this creature to invade my home, he had to plant himself on the one thing that I needed to touch. I understand that it may seem strange that I needed to touch my ceiling fan, but trust me I did. I needed to pull the cord to turn off the light because if I switch the fan off from the wall it’ll turn off the blades and…look, I don’t need to explain myself to you! Just know that I needed to touch my ceiling fan and let’s leave it at that.

Thanks to some Raid and Tanya’s fancy shoe work, the creature is no longer with us. It’s grossing out Jesus now.

But when something like that finds its way into my home I always feel violated. As if I’m being burgled. As if the feelings of torment caused by the insect are deliberate and not just a byproduct of my intense “pussiosity.” I know that other people feel the same way. In fact it was one of the first things Tanya said when I pointed the bug out to her. “How the hell did that get in here?!” As if we somehow left an insect-sized door unlocked somewhere.

I hate bugs. Thanks Tanya for killing it for me. Although, I would like to point out that the only reason Tanya could kill the bug was because I put my life on the line to spray its general vicinity with poison.

Which reminds me, I should really clean off the dinning table and the buffet. Oh, and the tops of those Coke cans before I serve them to anybody.

I’ll do it later. I’m sure that I won’t forget.

I Don’t Even Read it for the Articles

2006-08-24T10:16:00.000-07:00

I don’t care for Playboy. There, I said it. I’m a heterosexual man who doesn’t like Playboy Magazine. In fact, Playboy gets on my nerves.

Let me explain why I’m even bringing this up at the moment. Last night Tanya, our friend Kathy and me were discussing Playboy because Kathy’s been watching “The Girls Next Door” on the E! network. Kathy said that the show made her want to buy issues of Playboy so that she could see the fruits of the girls’ labor. I could have chastised her for being a pawn to Playboy’s publicity machine, but I didn’t, I’m more mature than that. Instead, I just spent the next half hour throwing a hissy about the stupid magazine.

I’ve never liked Playboy. I take that back. I think that there was a brief moment when I was around 10 or 11 or so that I was a fan, but that’s only because the pictures of naked chicks in Playboy were the only ones I could get my hands on. As soon as I was introduced to the more expansive world of porn, Playboy got left behind. It was a fairly sad time. I remember my youthful disillusionment with Playboy even now.

See, to a pre-teen boy, Playboy is like the Holy Grail. I mean it’s right up there with drinking beer. If a kid had a Playboy he was king for a month. At least that’s the way it was supposed to be. That’s what I saw in movies. Kids in movies were always looking at Playboys with awe and wonderment. The cool kids always found a way to sneak a Playboy out of their “Old Man’s” collection. But the reality was this; the naked pictures in Playboy weren’t any sexier than anything I could find in my mother’s art books (and I knew where every naked woman was in my mother’s art books. I memorized the pages they were on. I had to, my mom would have noticed if I had dog-eared the paper).

Incidentally, my disillusion with beer was almost as bad. It didn’t live up to the hype either. And I like beer.

So, I stopped being interested in Playboy. I put away childish things. Sure, when a kid would show up with one, I would feign interest just so that no one would beat me up for being gay. It’s hard to explain to a 13-year-old who’s cool enough to steal a Playboy, that the pictures just don’t “do it for you” on a strictly cerebral level. That your sexual fantasies involve the woman to do more than just show up and be naked. I was pretty sure that I couldn’t argue my point eloquently enough to avoid being labeled “fag” for the rest of my Junior High career.

But there’s something interesting about the allure of Playboy. There is an allure, after all. But it’s purely mythological. That’s why men are drawn to it.

And then there are the articles.

Look, I have to be honest. I haven’t read that many Playboy articles in my lifetime. I know that many of our countries great writers have contributed to the magazine over the years. But…I just don’t like to read all that much. Plus, the articles that I’ve read in Playboy tend to be a little on the…heady…side. Overcompensating, I’m sure, for being in Playboy to begin with. I mean do I really need to read another interview with former FEMA Director Michael Brown? And can I take the article seriously if it shares a leaf with some bimbo’s “knockers?” it’s hard enough to take Michael Brown seriously as it is without being distracted by boobs bigger than he is.

In college, I had some friends who would put Playboy out on their coffee table. These guys claimed that they read Playboy for the articles. And I can honestly say that they did read the articles, but I think it was more in case anyone actually confronted them about it than anything else. I don’t think that they got off on the pictures either. I mean, sure, they were perverts, but I believe that their number one motivating factor for putting Playboys on the coffee table was to look cool.

They were sensitive to this criticism. Instead of using the tired old “I read it for the articles” argument, they did one better. They acted as if their decision to place Playboys on the coffee table were in fact a genius social experiment. They would have you believe that they were keeping score of how many men picked up the magazines compared to how many women and in which social circumstances they did so. As if there was a one-way mirror with a man behind it wearing a white lab coat and scribbling on a clipboard (ostensibly not masturbating).

But they really did it to look cool. Let’s just face facts.

However, every single time I would go over to their place and I would see those Playboys on the coffee table, I would pick one up and thumb through it. There were two reasons for this. One is that I wanted to look cool, as if I had evolved beyond mortal taboos. And the other is that Playboy does something to me. It’s in the ink they use, I think. It gives me amnesia. I see a Playboy and I think “hey look! A Playboy! Wow! Naked ladies!” Then I pick it up, thumb through it for a second and put it back down. Disappointed all over again.

The people with the Playboys would always give me grief. They would see me put the magazine down and mistake my look of utter bemusement with one of embarrassment. They would offer a way out. “You know, there’s a fascinating interview with so-and-so in there.”

“Uh…that’s okay” I’d say.

See. I was looking at the magazine because I wanted to see some porn. I never pick up a magazine with a picture of a mostly naked cheerleader on the cover because I am interested in how Vietnamese victims of Agent Orange are holding up these days. That’s never my motivation. I like my porn to be porn.

Problem is that the pictures in Playboy aren’t porn. They’re “classy.” By classy, they mean that you don’t see genitalia. I have a much broader definition of the word, but that’s what it means to Playboy. It’s not as if the scenes set up in the magazine are all that tasteful. I don’t look at them as the epitome of class and taste. It’s just another picture of a woman who’s not allowed to show me her ho-ha. I can see that every day! Every time I walk down the street I’m barraged by women who aren’t allowed to show me their ho-has. Not in public anyway.

So if Playboy isn’t sexually stimulating, let’s address their other “selling point.”

Art.

Playboy likes to parade itself around as if it’s walking the high ground. As if the pictures, since they don’t show actual labias, are somehow “artistic.” If that’s the criteria for artistic then we live in an art-filled world, my friend. Myself, not being cursed with a labia, am a freaking walking work of art 24 hours a day!

But seriously, there’s nothing artistic about Playboy pictures most of the time. They’re stock. Cookie-cutter. Like Glamour Shots for areolas.

So if Playboy is neither stimulating sexually or artistically, what is it? It’s immature. And if you need “painstakingly trimmed bush” as your incentive to read about the failed policies of President Bush then perhaps you need to rethink your intellectual life.

And that’s why I hate Playboy. Listen Playboy, stop objectifying women in your “porn!” Have them do something!

Fun Fact: I don’t read porn magazines. I mean why buy porn magazines anyway?

I pay good money for DSL.

Am I Blue? Oh God No!

2006-08-22T10:07:00.000-07:00

So, they were on the news again this morning. Of course, I’m talking about twin sister racist pop supergroup “Prussian Blue.” Debutants of dislike. Sweeties of stupidity. Princesses of…uh…Prussianousness.

These aren’t your typical brainwashed white supremest kids. No! Sure, they prefer the term “racialist” to the more sinister “racist.” Sure, they spout the same asinine tripe that their parents have been spitting out all their lives. But unlike most racist twins, these girls play their own instruments!

Awesome.

Well, since the girls are fighting to save the white man’s racial identity, and since I’m a white man, I figured that I should check these girls out and see how well they’re waving the banner for my skin color.

I mean, I’ve got people looking after every other part of me. My masculinity’s covered in spades. We men have people like Tom Lycus, Howard Stern, Adam Carolla and various other questionably talented people to raise the flag for men everywhere.

My brain has been well cared for. Barbara Bush was kind enough to keep it off drugs and Bill Clinton worked his ass off to make sure my brain could go to college at reasonable interest rates (a mute point now…thanks for nothing George Bush, you dickhead).

So, with my brain and testicles in good hands, I popped over to Lynx and Lamb’s (those are the girls’ names in Prussian Blue) web site to see how the custodians of my skin color are doing.

I’ve got to say, I’m disappointed. Never mind that they’re both ignorant, uneducated hate-mongers, but – they suck!

Yeah. They suck. They claim to be representing the entire “white race” and they can’t stop to make sure that they’re writing songs that don’t stink on ice? They do claim to be musicians after all.

I have a little advice for everyone who’s ever tried to make the argument that their race is genetically superior:

If you’re going to put yourself up as the example, try not to be a complete waste of space. Please?

I understand how difficult it can be to find a good example of a racist. It’s a paradox. By qualifying, you’re disqualified.

But, Prussian Blue, at least write your hate songs with a good “hook.” Every great song needs a hook. You can’t just subsist on hate for your entire career. It’s a one trick pony.

The Prussian Blue web site (which I won’t link to here, but if you really want to find it, it’s easy) claims that their latest and second album has the potential to cross over in to mainstream alternative rock. Not likely. The samples that I’ve heard from it are pretty hard to listen to.

In fact, I must admit that I prefer “vintage” Prussian Blue. Their old stuff is better. No, it’s not good. But it’s better. It’s got more blatant “hate” which, let’s face it, is what you look for in a Prussian Blue song. Plus it has a homemade, down homey, little girls with guitars and violins, innocent, let’s lynch us some black folk and go to a picnic quality to it that could be endearing if your ears would stop bleeding long enough for you to regain equilibrium.

In all the years that I’ve been alive there have been hundreds upon hundreds of people who have stepped forward to carry the banner for my skin color. And none of them has done a good job. It just strengthens my belief that my skin color doesn’t really need a banner. It’s doing just fine without one. It sits there, covering my body, being all “white” and all. My skin doesn’t even seem to care that it’s white. It changes color in the summer. And that seems disrespectful if you ask me. So, screw my skin color! If it can’t be bothered to take “pride” in itself then why the hell should I?! What has my skin color done historically speaking anyway? It never won a war. It never painted the ceiling of a church. It never went to the moon. It just hung around while those things happened.

I hate my skin color! I hate all skin colors!

Lazy-ass, good-for-nothing color!

Prussian Blue can have my skin color. Just as long as they promise to never make another album ever again for the rest of their sad, hate-filled lives.

Fun Fact: Prussian Blue also has a blog on Blogspot! Cool. I clicked a link to another racist heavy metal band called Battlecry. It’s actually a little bit better. The production quality is better, that is.

But I tell you – after listening to this music all morning – if you’re going to listen to this stuff too, take an antacid or something because, honestly, it’ll turn your stomach.

Unless you’re a RACIST!

Jerk.

I’m a Big Boy Now

2006-08-17T09:36:00.000-07:00

And it has nothing to do with Pampers Pull-Ups diapers. My character doesn’t derive from disposable undergarments. I wear them strictly for the comfort.

When Tanya and I went to Nags Head a while back, we returned from the trip with a 2002 4-door Saturn L200. My father, in a fit of generosity, gave the car to me. It’s been sitting around like an out-of-towner ever since. That is, until yesterday. I went down to the AAA, transferred the title and registered the car. I even had the thing smog checked.

Now, that doesn’t sound like that big a deal. But I don’t register cars every day. And when I do, I rarely have to go it alone. So, when the world didn’t end because I filled out the paperwork incorrectly, I felt a great sense of empowerment.

See, when I actually accomplish an adult task – all by myself – it makes me feel a little more like a competent member of society. Like I can survive on my own. Sure, I’m 33 years old now and I’ve been living “on my own” (read: no parents) for a while now. But I still feel as if, any minute, I could encounter a task that is so incredibly “adult” and complicated that I would slip into a responsibility-induced coma at its very mention. Even though I’m not a complete dullard, I lack a certain amount of confidence when it comes to taking care of grown-up business.

The nice thing is that I don’t think I’m alone here. Registering things, signing loans, making health-related appointments, dealing with insurance (or the lack of it), re-financing stuff…all that crap is scary. But my lack of confidence isn’t helped by certain people who waltz around this little planet as if they’ve figured all of it out. As if calling a credit card company isn’t nerve-wracking. As if calling the pizza place isn’t terrifying. As if strangers in general aren’t something to be completely avoided at all costs.

Maybe that’s the problem. You know, if my buddy Phil worked down at the AAA, I wouldn’t have a problem taking care of that stuff. Not at all. I’d just call Phil and as him how to take care of it. But my buddy Phil doesn’t work at the AAA. I don’t even have a buddy named Phil. So I’m on my own and forced to subjugate myself to complete strangers. And what have I been told since I was an Anthropomorphic Boy? “Don’t talk to strangers!” “If you need help, find a policeman!”

Well, now I’m forced to talk to strangers, with my “Stranger Danger” alarm ringing loudly in my subconscious, and the last person I want to talk to is a cop.

Plus, I can never get a police officer to make my dental appointments for me. They suck.

So what am I saying? All I really need to know I didn’t learn in kindergarten. In fact some of that crap really screwed me up. And if you’ve ever said to someone “I was filling out my tax forms the other day and thought to myself, am I going to have to fill out a Schedule-M3? Ha ha ha ha!” and you’re not the CFO of anything, then you need to stop. You’re only doing it to make the rest of us feel like adolescent pussies.

And it’s working.

But, yeah me! I registered my car! Now it doesn’t have West Virginia plates on it anymore. However, I was hoping that someone would mistake me for an out-of-towner. That way, when they flipped me off in traffic and yelled something like “hey, you hillbilly douchebag, why don’t you go back to West Virginia, your sister’s getting lonely!” I could yell something back that only a local Los Angelino would know like “Santa Monica is overpriced!”

And that would rock their little world.

Fun Fact: I didn’t just take care of my car yesterday. I also painted a painting for the apartment. We had the need for a large 30” X 40” painting, so I created one.

And this is it. Enjoy!

Did Everything Come Out Okay?

2006-08-15T10:05:00.000-07:00

I’m back from PA hell. That’s “Production Assistant” hell, not Pennsylvania hell. Pennsylvania’s actually quite nice. I haven’t been there for years. But if the Amish like it, you know it’s good.

So, in lieu of anything else to post about, I thought that I would share a little bit more of the cross country trip that Tanya and I returned from about a month ago.

When you drive across the country, you get very familiar with certain aspects of freeway life. You learn which gas station chains have the best bathrooms. You learn that places that sell fireworks need gigantic billboards because, well, how else are you supposed to find fireworks? (As a rule, the billboard size is directly proportionate to the size of the fireworks stand; the ratio is 5:1, 5 feet of billboard for every 1 actual square foot of fireworks stand)

Truck stops and rest areas become very important on a cross country trip. There are a few similarities between the two. Both generally have a lot of trucks parked at them. Both have bathrooms. And both are crawling with prostitutes. But rest areas are much nicer to look at. I enjoy Yosemite Sam and bare breasted women, don’t get me wrong, but there is something a bit more serene about a rest area.

Nowadays rest areas aren’t the same rat infested, biohazards that they used to be when I was a kid. Some of them are downright pleasant. When I was young, rest areas were not much more than a port-a-potty housed in a wooden shed with a lovely view of the freeway and a smell that could make a river worm turn up its nose (river worms are used to treat sewage by the way. Vermicomposters will find that last joke funny at least).

Tanya and I stopped at a few rest areas on our trek. Not as many as you might think since we usually just popped into McDonalds when we needed to heed the call of nature. Rest areas don’t sell Double Quarter Pounders. But, like I said, we stopped at a few.

Most of them were your typical new concrete and block type places. Sturdy and clean…ish. Texas actually had some very nice rest areas. With tile mosaics adorning the walls inside. Places you could feel slightly classy pooping in.

But I saw something new in New Mexico. Here’s the rest area. Pretty normal.

It’s located near some kind of historical site, so there’s the obligatory plaque to make the spot seem more important than it actually is. This plaque does a nice job of that.

But there was one thing that set this particular rest area apart. This was on the outside of the rest area bathrooms.

Good for them! Hey, New Mexico cares about your rest area experience. And they make you feel regal by allowing you to refer to yourself in the survey as "we." Very classy.

Then I saw this and I knew that New Mexico really cares about your rest area experience.

Fun Fact: When I was a kid and we were at a rest area, I would stand out by the freeway and get semi trucks to honk as they sped by. Rest areas became much nosier places when I was in town.

The “kid me” would really bug the living hell out of the “adult me.”

Boring

2006-08-07T09:57:00.000-07:00

That’s what it’s going to be around this blog for the next few days. I’ve gotten another job with HGTV so I’ll be working this week. I’ll try to get a post or two up, but I can’t promise anything.

In the meantime, I’ll just put up some pictures of the trip that Tanya and I just got back from a couple weeks ago. I would post about something topical but really, what’s the point? There’s really nothing worth blogging about right now anyway. Sure, there are the wars in the Middle East, but they’re depressing. And there’s Mel Gibson, but that’s too easy. I mean when the best possible defense you can offer up is “hey, you have to remember, when that cop pulled me over I was really drunk!” Then you know you’re trapped in a PR nightmare.

So, you get to look at pictures. Lucky, lucky you.

Here’s my nephew Dylan. He’s my brother’s son and is built like a masonry poophut. If he doesn’t want you to open a door, damnit, you’re not opening a door.

This is my gentler, albeit slightly more possessive, other nephew Asher with his sister Lily (my sister’s kids). We buried Lily in the sand and then tried to convince Asher to give her a kiss.

100,000 hours later, he did. Kids are fun. They’re tiny miracles. Until you’ve experienced the glory of children, you’ll never know the pure nirvana that can be obtained from standing in the hot sun on hotter sand with a camera, just waiting for the kid to get over the fact that sometimes sand is “sinky.” It’s like the finger of God has parted the clouds…to flick your ear really hard.

Here’s a picture of a lighthouse. It’s the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse to be specific. It used to be closer to the ocean but not too long ago, because of beach erosion, they put the entire thing on a huge trailer and hauled it a few hundred yards to its current location. Wow, aren’t you interested in that fact!

Here’s a picture of the outside of the Clinton Presidential Library in Little Rock, Arkansas. It’s like an anti-President Bush haven. It was a vacation within a vacation.

Tanya took the opportunity to be president for a little while. She sat in Clinton’s cabinet meeting chair. I’m sure it wasn’t really his chair, but rather a replica of his chair. But it was remarkably lifelike. I mean, you could almost swear that it was an actual chair!

Actually, this picture got me to thinking about what it would be like if Tanya were president. I think the world would be a much better place. We wouldn’t be embroiled in a hopeless war in the Middle East and all of America’s bedroom floors would be completely free of stinky guy clothes.

And here’s a picture of Tanya playing with some petrified wood. Insert your own “big wood” joke here. I’m too classy.

I should include some “exciting” pictures. So here they are. Exciting!

It’s a hamster attack! Me with Tanya’s niece’s hamster “Junior.” It’s a good thing that hamsters can’t understand English. It’s never a good thing to be a hamster named Junior. The only thing worse is to be a hamster with a more dubious suffix like “the 3rd” or “the 4th.”

And here’s the Lone Ranger’s costume. It was at the Clinton Presidential Library. Why shouldn’t the Lone Ranger’s costume be at the Clinton Library?!

Fun Fact: I’m grateful, humbled and only slightly annoyed at all the comments, emails and cards I got for my birthday. Thank you. You’re the best.

That’s a fact.

33

2006-08-04T09:48:00.000-07:00

Yeah, it’s my birthday today. I’m feeling a bit old. But you know what they say; 33 is the new 23!

They do say that right?

Right?!

For the benefit of future historians who find this blog looking for a picture of me at 33, I’ve decided to include a photograph of myself.

See how young I look? And I didn’t doctor that photo one bit either. My skin! It’s so supple. And I look like I’ve even lost a few pounds.

Maybe getting older isn’t so bad. So far my organs still work and there’s not one hint of dementia.

Happy 25th birthday to me!

Fun Fact: There are about 4 birthdays that I can’t remember at all. I’ve tried, but it’s no use. It would be cool if I could blame alcohol. Then I would seem like a real partier. I’m going to assume that alcohol isn’t to blame for my birthday amnesia. Unless my parents were giving alcohol to their toddler!

Mom? Dad? You wouldn’t do that, right? Right?

Also, you may remember that I thought it was 33rd birthday last year. Determined never to make that mistake again, I’ve researched my birthday this year. Turns out that I am indeed turning 33.

Damn.

Sweep This!

2006-08-03T09:49:00.000-07:00

My hand is planted firmly on my crotch.

They’ve done it to me again! Or, I’ve done it to myself?

I blame my car.

My father has generously given me a new car. But I still have my old car which means that, when you add Tanya’s car to the equation, we just have one car too many. We’ve got lovely two car tandem parking (which if you’re not from a city where there’s an overcrowding problem means that we have to park one of our cars behind the other). Since my old car doesn’t actually run anymore, it gets a permanent place in the driveway which leaves another car to fend for itself, forced to circle the streets like an angry hobo just looking for an open doorway in which to spend the night.

Well, my car overslept this morning. It stayed in its cozy little cubby, tucked into the same spot it’s spent the entire previous week.

That’s when it was molested by some jerk in a white hybrid car with “Los Angeles Parking Enforcement” written on the side. It’s street sweeping day.

LA loves street sweeping day (that’s why it’s always street sweeping day somewhere in this town). If someone were to come up with some animated map of parking tickets issued in Los Angeles, you’d be able to watch the city coffers fill up block by block as the street sweepers winded their way through the city.

The city wants you to believe that street sweeping exists for the sole purpose of sweeping the street. Residents of Los Angeles know better. Street sweeping is an excuse to hand out parking tickets at $45 a pop. On my block alone, this morning my car was one of four others who had either purposefully or inadvertently ignored the posted no parking sign. That’s $180 dollars just on my block. I took a walk this morning and noticed an average of about three cars a block that were parked on the wrong side of the street at the wrong time.

So why $45? I’ll tell you my theory. It’s the same strategy they use in marketing. You don’t charge $20 for an item. You charge $19.95. Why? Because it’s not $20. It makes it seem more reasonable. $45? Well, it’s not $50, that’s why. $50 is a lot of money. It’s half of $100. But $45 is worth taking a risk on.

I wasn’t trying to take a risk. I had every intention of moving the car this morning (uh, I mean, my car had every intention of moving itself).

Instead, now I’m out 45 bucks. For absolutely no reason.

I hate this town.

Fun Fact: As I was researching for this blog post (yes, I do some research…very little research but…) I found this article on the subject from the Los Angeles Times.

Also, you’ll notice that the picture at the top of the post says “No Parking” on Wednesday. I realize that it’s Thursday today. See, our apartment building sits on a corner. The street in front of the house has no parking on Thursday. The street on the side of the apartment has no parking on Wednesday. That’s where I took that picture.

Incidentally, on both streets there’s only legal parking on one side of the street. This means that every week on Wednesday and Thursday, we get to have the “Great Car Shuffle!”

It sounds more exciting that it really is.

I Have Left Elvis’s Building

2006-07-31T10:27:00.000-07:00

Every pilgrimage needs its Graceland, its Mecca. For Millions of Muslims, their Gracelend is, um, Mecca. For Tanya and me, our Graceland was…well…Graceland.

Memphis, Tennessee.

You got it. More vacation photos! See, Tanya and I realized that our trip from Nags Head, North Carolina to Los Angeles would take us right through Memphis. So how could we possibly turn down an easy trip to Elvis’s house? Well, we couldn’t. We didn’t. We went. And I took pictures.

But before we got to Graceland we passed through Scottsboro, Alabama. If that place sounds familiar to you, then you probably harbor a secret desire to buy other people’s lost airline luggage. You see, Scottsboro is home to the Unclaimed Baggage Center. The place where millions of pieces of unclaimed lost luggage get sold at low, low prices to greedy patrons willing to profit from other people’s misfortune.

I am one of those people! I want to buy people’s lost stuff. I was really just hoping that a lot of musicians had run into recent bad luck at the hands of the airlines. So you can imagine my excitement when I learned that the place I had just heard about on the national news was only a few blocks away!

We got off the freeway and weaved our way through town. There’s really no easy way to get to this place. You have to be alert and follow the directions that you read off the freeway billboard. But I was on a mission. And we found it! My dream was about to come true.

Only, I forgot one key thing. We were in Alabama…and it was Sunday. Nothing is open on Sundays in the Bible belt. Hell, you’re lucky to find a freaking church with its doors unlocked.

So I did what any other red blooded American would do in this situation.

I pouted.

And Tanya made fun of me.

What the South fails to realize is that people who are willing to buy other people’s lost stuff don’t have much need for church. Damnit! Heathens want to buy crap on Sunday!

I hate the Bible belt.

But we finally made it to Graceland.

We took the tour. We saw Elvis’s dining room! Wow. He like ate here and stuff…sometimes.

We saw the infamous “TV room.” This room looks like something out of James Lilek’s “Interior Desecrations.” You can’t really see it in the picture but underneath that creepy porcelain monkey with the pitch black, lifeless eyes there’s a sign that reads “Please Do Not Touch.” I’m pretty sure that’s because that black eyed monkey “will eat you!

Also, there are also only two TVs pictured here. Of course you know there are three. You can pretend like you don’t know anything about Elvis, but secretly you have the knowledge that Elvis had three TVs in his TV room. You’ve known all along, haven’t you? Clandestinely, we’re all hicks.

Here’s the back of Graceland. Nobody ever really wonders what the back of Graceland looks like. Not until you bring it up anyway. Well, this is what it looks like. Awesome.

The tour through Graceland is an audio tour. You have to listen to headphones the entire time. Everyone in the joint looked like obstinate teenagers. If every tourist didn’t look as if they were genuinely interested in everything, I would have felt as if I’d stumbled into my worst vacation nightmare.

And lastly...

Elvis is dead.

Fun Fact: It was Kevin’s birthday the other day! Go to his website and click around. Let him know that you care that he’s one year closer to death.

He’s almost 30!

How did Kevin celebrate his birthday this year? Well, he got 6 stitches under his chin thanks to a sea kayak.

And he stepped on a bee.

Fun!

P.S. This post was supposed to be up yesterday but...Blogger is a piece of stupid, stupid crap!

Like a Little Waxy Angel

2006-07-28T09:15:00.000-07:00

Dear Shiloh Nouvel Jolie-Pitt of the future (the real one, not the candle-like thing at Mme. Tussaud's),

It’s your 16th birthday! Happy sweet 16, kid.

Hold on a second, I have to go outside really quickly and water my flowerbeds. I’m 16 years older now too. I’m going to be 50 soon, and lately I’ve been getting these irrational urges to water the hell out of my yard.

I suppose that I should explain why I’ve decided to write this letter to you.

I was at the gym one morning, 16 years ago, and I saw a story on CNN about your paraffin doppelganger over at the Wax Museum. Now, it’s been a while since the story of a wax “you” first came out, a couple of days actually, but some genius over at the news network decided that they could stretch the story out a bit (god knows there was noting else going on at the time). They went on and on about how you were the first baby ever to be immortalized in wax at Tussaud's famous museum. I’m not sure exactly what kind of honor that is, but it’s the ultimate comeback whenever someone gives you the old “I don’t know who you think you are, young lady” routine. “I was the first goddamned wax baby!” You can shout at them. Why not throw a laté in their smug faces to add some extra effect.

Now I’m not saying that you would do such a thing. I’m just saying that if I were the first wax baby, I certainly would. Especially if someone called me “young lady.”

I just got to thinking that you might be tired of hearing about your evil wax twin. I mean, it’s 16 years later and CNN is still running segments on it every other day (I’m starting to think that Ted Turner has a bit of a fetish thing going on. Oh, no, not for babies, just for wax.).

So I figured that I would explain to you why your wax baby figure initially garnered so much attention. It’s like this:

For one, your parents used to be really famous. I mean like, really famous. Especially after your dad dumped his first wife to travel the world with your mother (incidentally, his first wife is Jennifer Aniston. That’s right, Senator Jennifer Aniston! The same Senator Aniston who was later deemed to be incompetent after it was discovered that she was elected as a joke.) Your parents used to make big movies and save the children of the world. I know it’s strange to hear about your parents making movies since your mom now lives in a Quonset hut somewhere in the African jungle working tirelessly to eradicate that deadly new strain of whooping cough and your dad…well, cut the guy some slack, he was actually a pretty talented actor, I realize that porn isn’t acting per-se, but he used to make real movies, he just was never the same after your mom left him. Very sad.

Anyway, why was your wax self so popular? Because you were popular. The most popular baby on the planet (tell that to those cheerleaders who keep flipping you crap about your dad!). And why were you so popular? Well, this is where things get tricky.

When you were born, the Iraq war was only a few years old (Thanks god that, after much begging, Al Gore finally decided to run for president again). The war was going terribly. It was worse then than it was when it began. And America needed a distraction. After all, who wants to pay attention to a depressing old war, right? People figured that if they just stared at the celebrity baby long enough the war would take care of itself.

It didn’t.

In fact, things got a lot worse. Israel took the initiative to act on terrorist attacks by Hezbollah. They bombed the crap out of Lebanon. It was scary. It made the Iraq war look as if it was never going to end. Especially since Georgie Bush refused to help the situation. And Condoleezza Rice…? What the hell does she do for the government anyway? I mean, I could go around the world and piss people off, does that require a lot of talent?

That was around about the time that your polyethylene self was being squeezed out Madame Tussaud's waxy womb. And BAM! We had a reason to live again. And the media could remain upbeat! Thank god for that! Real issues can be such a downer.

So I wanted to write this letter to you to tell you that if you ever get tired of hearing about that inconsequential wax figure of yourself on CNN, blame former president Bush.

Go ahead, blame him.

I like to blame him for hundreds of things. And I’ve never been wrong yet.

Hang in there Shiloh. And happy 16th again! Call you dad every once in a while. He could probably use a friend right about now.

TAM

Fun Fact: Seriously, I got an obscene amount of joy when I typed the phrase “former President Bush” earlier. I felt the clouds part. I felt the hand of somebody’s god.

I envisioned George Bush being booed off the lecture circuit for being a complete moron because nobody felt obligated to listen to him anymore.

Ahhhhhh…that’s the stuff.

First in F(l)ight

2006-07-25T16:09:00.000-07:00

More vacation photos. Aren’t you the lucky one?

The Outer Banks of North Carolina have many things to offer tourists but probably the most famous is Kitty Hawk. You know, that place where Orville and Wilbur Wright made their infamous first “powered” flight.

I like Kitty Hawk. I’ve been there a few times. The last time was about 13 years ago. Here’s what it looked like then.

That’s Mike in that picture, not me. He went with me last time. In a completely heterosexual way.

Here’s what it looks like now. It’s pretty much the same angle on this picture as the last one. The only difference is that, this time, my big fat head is taking up the whole frame.

And why is my big fat head taking up the whole frame? Because I was my own camera man that’s why. Tanya didn’t want to run the camera that day. She was in “a mood.” Don’t believe me? Well, here’s a picture of her “mood.”

Pouty.

But she wasn’t pouty all day. Here she is pretending that she can fly simply by putting her arms out. Yes, we were at Kitty Hawk and Tanya was pretending to be an airplane. We were “those” kind of tourists.

Here she is playing patty cake with a statue.

Sure, I had to be my own camera man all day but I still had fun taking goofy pictures. Here’s Tanya pretending to hold the Wright Bros. Memorial in the palm of her hand.

I told you, we were “those” kind of tourists.

And here’s a picture that I took of myself doing the same thing. This kind of picture requires a deft, almost innate knowledge of space and angles. I think I pulled the effect off quite nicely.

All in all, it was a very nice trip to Kitty Hawk and not once did I pester a stranger with the phrase, “Excuse me sir/ma’am, but could you take our picture? Just hit that silver button on top. No…the silver one. It’s the silver one. The…one on top. …It’s the goddamned silver button, you freaking po! Jesus, how did you even manage to make it to Kitty Hawk in the first place?! I hope you don’t have children! By the way, those things that people dig in the dirt are called holes in the ground and that thing that you speak out of is your asshole! …oh wait, the button is red…sorry…my mistake…would you mind taking our picture?”

Not once did I say that to anyone. There was no need. I am a masterful cameraman.

Fun Fact: There wasn’t actually a fight that forced me to be the cameraman for the day. It was just something that we thought would be funny. No, actually the only time that we really fought at Kitty Hawk was when Tanya wanted to run the camera.

I’m a controlling jerk. But I wouldn’t have to be if Tanya would just take pictures that way that I want her to!

Let’s end this post with a picture that Tanya took.

You see?! Do you see how that’s all wrong!!!!

Man.

P.S. This post would have been up a lot sooner today if Blogger wasn’t a stupid, stupid piece of stupid crap!!! That’s a fact.

We're Baaaack

2006-07-24T11:22:00.000-07:00

Tanya and I got back on Friday from our whirlwind tour of the hottest states in America. North Carolina, Tennessee, Georgia (very briefly), Alabama, Mississippi, Arkansas, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and finally home to California.

First, as you already probably know, we spent a week in Nags Head, North Carolina on the Outer Banks where we passed the time swimming in the Atlantic Ocean, looking at lighthouses and eating boiled peanuts.

If you’ve never had a boiled peanut, you’re missing a unique experience. Is it a good experience? Well, you’ll have to be the judge of that. Eat a boiled peanut today! (This message has been brought to you by the Boiled Peanut Advisory Council of North Carolina)

We spent more time in Nags Head than we had anticipated when we “planned” this trip. We were having a really good time with my family (which I hadn’t seen in a hell of a long time). Even though they could be extremely loud, there aren’t another 18 people that I’d rather share a house with.

Yes, we stayed with 18 of my relatives. And we actually had fun.

Anyway, now we’re back. And I miss the open road already. I mean, our car has air conditioning. Our apartment on the other hand…

Fun Fact: The first picture above is of a lightening storm that hit the Outer Banks on the second to the last day that we were there. I think it was the pre cursor to a tropical storm that passed by there. But I can’t be sure. What do I look like, a weatherman?!

I’ll post more pictures here as I sift through them. In the meantime, here are a couple. One thing that you should know; I was in charge of the camera for most of the trip so most of the pictures of me look like the one here.

This next picture was meant to be a contrast to the first picture at the top of the post. Just in case you thought that it rained the entire time we were at Nags Head. It only rained the last two nights. Our days were almost completely clear.

Anyway, as I was resizing this picture to post it, I noticed something about it that I hadn’t noticed before. Something in the water. Something that I hadn’t intended to photograph.

Nags Head Nessie!

I’ll make a fortune!

Unless it’s just a dumb old dolphin.

Leaving Nags Head

2006-07-15T05:28:00.000-07:00

There are some people out there who said, "hey, you should post from the road!"

So, this is it. I'm "posting from the road."

Isn't this fun?! See you soon.

TAM

Fun Fact: This computer has been in this beach rental house the entire time I've been here. It has DSL. It's a nice computer.

I only learned that it was here yesterday.

And I didn't care.

Also, that logo at the top of the post is for the new and improved Outer Banks. They spell things with "X"s instead of "K"s now. They're way cool. If they ever start to spell things with "Z"s instead of "S"s, I don't know if I could stay here ever again. They might just "cool" themselves right out of my "coolness class."

What's up with that?! This place used to be cool, but still lame enough for me to enjoy. Now it gone and "cooled" itself all up and stuff! What am I supposed to do now?! How can I find a place that's still nice, but lame enough that I can hang? This is just another way that the "cool" people are keeping down the "lame class!"

It's the gentrification of coolness.

I hate "coolification."

On the Road Again

2006-07-07T09:15:00.000-07:00

It’s almost that time. The time when Tanya and I take a little tour of these United States. We’re heading out on Sunday night to fly to Norfolk, VA, and then it’s on to spend a few of days on the beautiful shores of the Outer Banks in North Carolina.

I really like visiting the Outer Banks. What’s not to like? It’s the place where the Wright Brothers took their first flight (a fact that the license plates of North Carolina will never let you forget). It’s got some of the largest exposed sand dunes in the country. It has Ocracoke island, a place that was frequented by the dread pirate Blackbeard (and since pirates are all the rage these days, this fact is cool and trendy). And not too far away from where we’ll be staying is the Lost Colony of Roanoke (one of its greatest legacies is that Andy Griffith got his start acting in their little Lost Colony theatrical production – which I still have never seen).

I hope that we’ll find some time to get to Roanoke. I’ve been there before. It’s strange, but every time I visit that place I become convinced that I can solve the mystery of the lost colony. I know that hundreds of scholars and researchers have spent countless hours and used their interminable collective expertise trying to figure out what happened to that hapless group of first settlers, but when I go to the place and see the mounds of dirt and hear the stories, I still feel as if my insight into the matter will crack the case.

I’m an idiot.

If you don’t know what I’m talking about with Roanoke, go here to learn more. The short version is this: Some settlers came from England to establish the first western colony in the new world. They chose Roanoke Island. One of the colony’s leaders, John White, sailed for England to snag some more supplies for the colonists in 1587. Well, some crap came up and nobody was able to return with supplies until 1590. By then, all of the colonists had vanished into thin air. No bodies, no nothing. Only a word carved on a nearby tree "Croatoan." Evidentially, either the colonists were killed by Indians and marauders or they got tired of waiting three years for tea and Guinness and toddled off for greener pastures.

Legend has it that, years later, blue-eyed natives turned up. Ooohh. What a mystery. Did the colonists get killed or come down with a ribald case of jungle fever? Maybe we’ll never know.

Unless, of course, I can make it to Roanoke while I’m at the Outer Banks and solve the mystery.

After we kick around in North Carolina for a while we’re heading back to Los Angeles via road trip. We’re going to be touring through the not-so-deep south. First we visit Nashville and Memphis (to see the Egyptian stuff…or Graceland, whichever one it is that we have in the Memphis in this country, I’m so worldly that I often get my Memphises confused).

After Tennessee, the trip gets a whole lot less interesting…on paper.

We’ll be heading through Arkansas, Oklahoma, Northern Texas, New Mexico and Arizona. Or, as I like to refer to it, “America’s Nothing Belt.”

Not a whole hell of a lot to see in those places, but I’m sure that we’ll have a good time trying to find something.

While I’m gone, why don’t you go on your own mini vacation across the US with us? Just take out your largest map of the lower states and scoot your butt across it. Sure, it won’t be quite the same, but, honestly, you’ll probably have about as much to look at as we will as we’re actually driving through Northern Texas.

Fun Fact: I’m kind of looking forward to visiting Oklahoma. All I know about the state right now is that the wind comes sweeping down the plane and the wavin’ wheat sure smells sweet when the wind comes right behind the rain. Also, I’ve surmised that their main products are barley, carrots and pertaters, (pasture fer the) cattle, spinach and termayters. They have June bugs, lazy hawks and they call their sweethearts “honey lamb.”

I also know that Tanya’s going to go crazy while we’re there as I plan to try to hold out the first note of the Broadway classic song for the entire duration of our visit to the 46th state.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaklahoma…..

OK!

So Now I’m Back from Outer Space

2006-07-06T10:10:00.000-07:00

You should have changed your stupid lock. You should have made me leave my key.

I’ve been on a brief hiatus lately. Tanya and I have been house-sitting. Well, house-sitting and dog sitting. The people whose house we look after bought a new dog recently (the dog we used to look after passed away. So did the old cat. Now that I think about it, maybe Tanya and I aren’t the best people to care for pets?). The new dog is fun, but man, he requires a lot of attention. He completely wore me out with his constant desire to tear-ass around the back yard. He just wants to play all the time. And he doesn’t want to play alone. He wants me to chase after him. Doesn’t he realize that I’m going to be 33 soon? Doesn’t he realize that I’m lazy?! I don’t have the energy to play “keep-away” at every available moment. I suppose I was encouraging him a bit by letting him win all the time. I could have totally gotten that bone away from him. Easy! I just didn’t want the puppy to feel bad about himself.

Maybe by the time we house sit next life will have worn him down to a dull, lifeless pile of dog hair content to watch the world pass him by and wait for death?

Oh, man, that would be sweet.

I also had to go to the dentist yesterday. I hate the dentist. I mean, I really hate the dentist. Which, I suppose, makes me a glutton for punishment since I decided to go to UCLA Dental School to get my work done. Now, UCLA is a great school, so it’s not like getting your hair cut at the local Barber College. But the morons at the barber college don’t poke at your gums with sharp instruments either.

I’m going to go ahead and wager a guess that you’ve been to the dentist before. I’m also going to assume that you’ve had your gums probed with one of those pokey gum probing thingies. Those things that they shove down into your gum line to check for bone loss and periodontal disease. Those things that make having a toothpick shoved under your fingernail feel like a manicure.

I hate it.

Well, thanks to the fact that my resident “dentist” had little experience with the procedure (and thanks to the fact that I’m a big pussy who flinched every time she crammed that thing into my jawbone) I got to experience the process a grand total of three times!

Whenever the instructor came around to check my resident’s work I crossed my fingers that she wouldn’t have to do it again. I think I may have even prayed a little. I suddenly became her greatest cheerleader. I’ve never wanted a student to succeed so much in my life. Now I know how her parents must feel.

Anyway, it turns out that I don’t have an abscess as I previously thought (yeah me!). Just horrible, horrible gums. Usually, the protocol for me at the dentist is to sit in the chair, get my teeth poked at and, given the state of my gums, have the dentist tell me how awful my oral hygiene must be. I wind up leaving the place feeling like I’ve got the brushing technique and mouth of a crack whore (but without the potential income that it could generate, which could come in handy when it comes time to pay the bill).

But yesterday I was finally diagnosed with a genetic condition. Finally! I knew that I was blameless! I knew that my bad gums couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that I smoke, eat questionable meat products and sometime go entire weeks without brushing!

No, I don’t do those last two things. But it is nice to finally have a dentist give me a freaking break for once. It was nice to have a dentist who didn’t berate me. It was nice to have a dentist who didn’t make me feel like I had gums that could have only been crafted by Satan himself. I’m still in shock.

Has anybody checked the temperature in hell lately? I’m fairly certain that there’s been a cold snap.

Fun Fact: I’ve talked a lot of crap about my gums, but really, they’re not as bad as all that. Sure, they’re not in great shape, but at least it’s not something that you can see.

And if anyone out there is as afraid of the dentist as I am, I suggest that you go to the nearest (respectable) dental school to have your treatment. There’s nothing like a younger, ambitious co-ed to make you act like a tough guy. Sure, inside you’ll be screaming, but the thought of looking like a pussy in front of a college chick is enough to help you hold it together. At least to the point that you can walk out of the dentist’s office with your dignity still intact.

And, trust me, if I can leave a dentist office with dignity, anyone can.

Disabled Vet Please Help $$$ God Bless

2006-06-28T09:35:00.000-07:00

I wasn't going to post today. But I got an update email from a company about a product that someday I hope to buy. I speak of course of the Vienna Symphonic Library of sampled instruments. It's a bunch of note samples from various symphonic instruments, painstakingly recorded and presented for easy use by most sampling software.

First, I need to get a new computer and set aside 550 gigabytes of space for the library. There are over 800,000 samples in all. Then I need to raise about $11,000 to buy the library itself.

So, I guess what I'm saying is...do you have $11,000 I can have?

If so, please leave a comment. I would be more than happy to pay you back by writing a song for you (p.s. I would like the "Symphonic Cube" thanks).

TAM

Fun Fact: You can listen to what other (very talented) people have done using these samples. Go here. Click on the "open" button. I recommend "Journey Down Rabbit Lane." Lame title, cool tune.

Don't be afraid to listen to the songs. It's classical music. Very nice. And remember that these songs were performed using nothing but instrument samples complied together note-by-note on a computer.

Symphony Orchestras aren't obsolete...yet.

And This is My Youngest Brother who we Just Call Pansy-Ass

2006-06-27T10:20:00.000-07:00

Is this the way you introduce your youngest brother? If so, your parents probably had a lot of boys. There is a new study out that seems to show that the more full-blooded older brothers a man has, the more likely he is to be gay.

Oh, and if you introduce your youngest brother like that you’re also a homophobic jerk. He’s your brother. Show a little respect for the guy. He doesn’t introduce you as his older asshole (at least not while you’re around anyway).

Incidentally, the picture above is from “My Three Sons.” Which begs the question, why the hell did they need this study? Wasn’t “Ernie” proof enough?

Okay, you know what? I didn’t really want to post about this today. Well, I did, but I changed my mind a little while ago. Steve was nice enough to give this blog a shout out yesterday. He liked my Old School blog post. He even linked to a letter that he wrote to himself in 1990. It’s great. Go here and read it.

I was inspired to find an old note that I wrote to my girlfriend in high school. I also have one that I wrote to another (later in high school) girl that I liked. I don’t have a lot of notes that I wrote to girls in high school because…well…I gave the notes to them. I suppose I could have said “hey, baby, you know I love you like the moon loves to shine, but, when you’re done reading it, would it be possible for me to get that note back? You know, for posterity?”

I may have come off a bit arrogant if I had done that. Sure, I was arrogant, but no self-respecting teenager wants to look arrogant. So, all of my old masterpieces are now sitting at some girls house, with the exception of a couple that inexplicably never got delivered. Hopefully the girls kept the other notes I wrote. Most of them probably didn’t. I kept there’s! (some of them) Maybe I’ll post them sometime…if I can ever find them.

So, instead of walking down memory lane today, I get to post about the gay child study.

The study suggests that a man's sexual orientation may be influenced by the conditions in his mother's womb when he was a fetus. I’m not sure how. Maybe after having so many boys, the mother’s womb tries to create a more inviting atmosphere for future residents by decorating with lacy curtains and frilly throw pillows thus dooming any future males to a lifetime of Republican oppression (but possibly creating über-women as well)?

Man, I really wish that I could find those old notes.

Anyway, back to the study. The question of “Nature v Nurture” has been raging for years now…

You know, I bet that I put them in the storage closet downstairs. But it’s a real pain in the ass to get into that thing. I have to climb all over my dirty car and dig past all the Christmas decorations…

Tell you what, let’s just agree that gay men are born and not “turned” and leave it at that. After all, we don’t say that people “turn” heterosexual. To say that homosexuality and heterosexuality are somehow different “urges” is simply asinine.

Let us also agree that this study, with its scope and funding, answers another important question.

Yes, it’s true…no one cares about lesbians. In fact, I’m starting to think that they don’t really exist outside of a “raging kegger” setting anyway.

Who cares. I’m distracted. I’m going to try to find those notes.

Fun Fact: I’m the oldest child in my family. If my parents had liked each other more and had a couple more sons, I could have been a “gay maker!”

Man, I miss out on everything.

See, kids. Divorce hurts everyone.

Power Hungry!

2006-06-26T14:38:00.000-07:00

Electricity. Sweet, sweet electricity. You don’t know what it means to you until it’s gone. So, Electricity, let us never fight again.

Yup, the power went out in the apartment last night at midnight. It didn’t come back until noon today. But did the lack of a functioning computer stop me from blogging?

Hell no. I’m hardcore.

HARDCORE!

This is what blogging looked like before the internet:

Ripped from the Comments Section

2006-06-22T10:03:00.000-07:00

Just like Law and Order! Kevin made a great comment on the post from yesterday and I was simply going to respond to it in the comments section. But my response would have been really large and I would have probably had to split it in two. So, I decided to turn the whole thing into a post. Why not? I’ve got to post about something, right?

Here goes. Here’s what Kevin had to say:

I can understand a non-Christian not wanting to hear the rantings of somebody who acknowledges Jesus as part of their life. But why is it that it's always Christians that bring their faith into daily life? You never hear about a Muslim acknowledging Allah at graduation or a Hindu thanking Buddha for continued strength. It's just an observation. Maybe they do and the press just doesn't cover it. I don't know. Personally, if I were at a graduation and someone started talking about how Buddha has helped them through trials and tribulations, it really wouldn't bother me. Good for them. Glad he helped ya out. Maybe other "Christians" would be upset, but I don't think I would. I don't believe in Buddha. He's never helped me. But I don't think it would upset me if someone else talked about him. Buddha doesn't threaten my beliefs. To me, that wouldn't infringe on freedom of speech. For some reason, Christianity evidently infringes on some peoples' ideas of freedom of speech. I'm not judging or complaining. Simply making an observation. Like I said, I can understand others being upset. But for me, it wouldn't be that big of a deal.

Now me:

I think the reason that I’m most upset is that this girl was told not to be specific about her faith. I’m sure that if she had said “my faith has been the thing that…blah, blah, blah…” then the event would have gone off without a hitch. But she wasn’t interested in sharing the fact that her faith is important to her in a personal way. She was more interested in testifying. Preaching the specifics of her belief system. Even though she was told not to. And I’m not one to do stuff just because someone told me not to (especially when I feel as if I’m being repressed by that someone), but…

Her actions made the graduation ceremony all about her. It was a selfish act of defiance. It was her opportunity to do what she wanted to do and damn the others. This was her graduation after all and nobody was going to tell her what “might” or “might not” offend her fellow classmates. And I’m pretty sure that there were more students in her graduating class than just her, right? How many of those other students were offended? I would have been. More because of this girl’s selfish behavior at my graduation than the actual words that came out of her mouth (does that make me selfish? Am I more selfish for not wanting to be offended than she is for not giving a damn?).

So how many students were actually offended? We don’t really know. Brittany McComb (the girl) doesn’t know. And furthermore, she doesn’t care. See, because in her mind, she’s right. She’s convinced of it. The question never crossed her mind. Yes, she told the administrators at the high school that she wouldn’t mention God in her speech and then later reneged. But, according to her, it was never a question of ethics…she was bullied into agreeing to their terms.

And that’s another frustrating part of this. How do you explain to someone that is so convinced that their beliefs are righteous, that other people may not agree? It’s impossible. And it’s not a noble task either. Destroying another person’s beliefs. It’s not admirable. That’s why these rules are in effect, so the debate doesn’t have to take place at someone’s high school graduation.

Kevin mentioned that he doesn’t hear a lot of people talk about Buddha and Allah at events such as this. That’s true. At least in this country it’s true. I’m sure that in the Middle East there’s a lot of Allah in people’s high school graduations (Allah is very popular at suicide bombings). In Tibet, they probably bandy Buddha’s name around quite a bit. The reason we don’t hear it much around here is that this is a very Christian-centric country. We all know that. As a non-Christian, I’m pretty darned aware of the fact.

And this is my point. Christians are always accusing us non-Christians of being too thin-skinned. What they don’t realize (actually, they do realize it, they just don’t care because they think that they’re “right”) is that by talking about Christianity at events that we non-believers have every right to be a part of, they are in essence excluding us. They are dividing the audience. They are taking away our common experience. As soon as God gets mentioned, I don’t belong anymore. And I’m not one to be a joiner, but if it was my high school graduation, I would want to feel like I was included whole-heartedly. That’s what ceremonies like this are for. That’s why kids go to these things (that’s also, incidentally, why I didn’t want to go to mine, but I did and It was pleasant). That’s why the kids all dress in the same robes and get the same diploma. It’s a collective right of passage. Bringing religion into what is essentially a non-religious event only works to polarize the group.

It would be the same if I had been the valedictorian on my graduating class (that would have never happened) and I had gotten up to give a speech only to start talking about how my faith in the absence of God and disbelief in the martyrdom of Jesus is what made me the top in my class. I would have been run out of there on a rail. Why? Because what I would have essentially been saying is that “I’m the top of my class because I’m smart enough to not be brainwashed by mythology.”

And one last thing about Brittany McComb. A good deal of people in the “Christian community” (whatever that means) are treating her as if she’s some kind of martyr for standing up to the oppressive, cold, God hating federal government. But after Jesus was nailed to the cross, him mom didn’t turn around and sue the Romans. If you’re going to play the martyr, then do it right or don’t do it at all.

Fun Fact: According to the US Geological Survey, dinosaurs first appeared around 230 million years ago.

What the USGS doesn’t know is that dinosaur bones were actually planted in the ground around 5000 years ago by God to test man’s faith.

Makes sense to me. Evolution is such a complicated process. So complicated that it’s nearly impossible to believe.

The God idea is way easier to swallow. I mean, we all know how to bury things.

Another Long Day

2006-06-21T10:17:00.000-07:00

Is it just me or does this day feel like the longest one of the entire year?

Okay, I know that it’s not just me. It’s the Summer Solstice! The official beginning of summer and the longest day of the year. I should say that today contains the longest period of daylight of any other day of the year. The day is not actually any longer than any other day since, technically speaking, all days consist of 24 hours, no more, no less…that is, until the wacko scientists take over and start adding leap hours in order to make up for our flawed calendar and keep our global wristwatch synchronized with the rest of the universe. There’s nothing more embarrassing than being invited to an intergalactic event and showing up late because your planet is running a few years slow.

Anyway, it’s the Summer Solstice, a day when hippies everywhere head to the woods to sit in earthen Native American sweat lodges, suck down herbs and beat on drums to honor our earth mother.

Yeah for Summer Solstice.

Personally, my favorite thing about the Summer Solstice is that it’s all downhill from here on our way to autumn. The days can only get shorter. And for those of us who enjoy a long evening, that’s the best news.

Now for some irritating news.

I was watching the Today Show this morning and I saw a girl on there named Brittany McComb. She was the class valedictorian of Foothill High School in Henderson, Nevada. Since she was the class valedictorian, she was planning on giving a speech to the rest of her class about what made her the really smart and successful chick that she turned out to be.

Unfortunately, when she turned her speech over to school officials for review, there were a few problems. The speech had a number of references to God in it. There was one specific instance where she named Jesus as her lord and savior and a reference to God's love being so great that he gave his only son to suffer an excruciated death in order to cover everyone's shortcomings and forge a path to heaven. So the school officials, since they believe in the separation of church and state and said references were “faith specific”, told Brittany that she had to edit those parts of her speech or else she would not be allowed to address the school at graduation.

Brittany agreed.

But was that the end of it? Oh no. Brittany went ahead and said all that stuff anyway. Most of it went unheard however since the school pulled the juice from her microphone. Something they promised they would do if any of the speakers diverged from their approved speeches.

Now Brittany and her parents are hopping mad. They feel as if their right to free speech has been infringed upon (although, it was a school sponsored event and what people need to realize is that, yes, we all have the right to free speech, but we don’t have the right to use anyone else’s forum that we choose to). In fact, they’re so mad that they’re going to sue the school over it. And they’re sure that they’ve got God on their side.

One thing is for certain, they’ve got NBCs Campbell Brown on their side. Campbell was the reporter of the story. She thinks that Brittany is quite the little rebel. A rebel to be admired.

It’s nice to see that “journalists” are unbiased by their own religious beliefs.

I shouldn’t be too hard on Campbell though. After all, this report was on the Today Show. I don’t know what kind of hard-hitting journalism I was expecting.

But I have to tell you. I’m tired of having to deal with the child warriors in God’s army. I would no sooner take financial advice from a 18-year-old than I would take spiritual advice. Even if that 18-year-old was the freaking valedictorian of her graduating class.

When Brittany’s mic was cut off, others in her class booed. And I’m pretty damned sure that they weren’t booing because of infringements of free speech. They were upset that they couldn’t hear one of their own spread the gospel a little. They were upset because the big-bad people at the school were winning. It doesn’t matter what’s right.

Getting back to God’s chosen teenagers. There’s been a lot of press lately about high school students harassing science teachers about evolution and stuff. When I was in high school I can remember many rallies where groups of Christian kids showed up to picket for the right to pray in school.

I guess I’m just getting tired of the kids. I see no difference between the jerkass high school kid who makes his science teacher miserable and those little soldiers you see in third world countries. You know who I’m talking about. Those kids with the AK47s. Those poor little brainwashed children who are out on the front lines to fight for ideals that they can’t possibly comprehend.

And if you tell me that there’s a difference in their idealism, then back it up. Explain to me how the gun toting teens are any different than Brittany McComb. I’m not talking about their methods of expression. Obviously the kids who kill people are much worse. Brittany never killed anyone. I’m talking about their idealism.

I mean, is “brainwashing” only possible if the person that’s doing it has different values from yours?

Let me know.

In the meantime, would obnoxious teenagers just shut the hell up?! And if you refuse to, and if you’re going to continue to be obnoxious, at least say something new.

Fun Fact: You can see Brittany’s interview on the Today Show here. Click on the “Silenced Valedictorian Speaks Out” link (that’s one unbiased headline, baby). Listen to Brittany’s words of wisdom. Her parents are even smarter! I especially like her father’s liberal use of the word “ain’t.”

Bucking a Stereotype

2006-06-19T10:11:00.000-07:00

West Hollywood has always been considered one of the more…liberal…cities around Los Angeles.

Almost as if they’re proving a point, the West Hollywood city council is voting whether or not to approve a resolution that would attempt to decriminalize the casual use of marijuana. The resolution is designed to encourage police officers to focus on more serious crimes than pot smoking. Crimes like crack smoking and the mutilation of people’s pet dogs’ ears.

Smoking pot would still be illegal in the city, especially if done on the streets. And dealers would still be pursued. But the days of SWAT teams breaking down people’s doors while they’re kicking back on a Saturday night will, the city hopes, be a thing of the past.

This will solve two problems: The first being that cops will no longer have to suffer debilitating foot injuries from all that door-kicking. And two, in West Hollywood anyway, “Saturday Night Live” just might be funny again.

But West Hollywood has always been on the cutting edge as far as “resolutions” go. And why not? It’s a cutting edge type of place. I mean, if you consider being a homosexual “cutting edge.” Which I don’t since homosexuality has been around since the dawn of man. So I just ruined my own argument, didn’t I? Well, tough tympanis. It’s my blog.

But I did want to bring attention to West Hollywood’s prominent gay community. It’s a fine community. Good people. And they keep the place very tidy.

West Hollywood is a place where gay people can walk freely, without fear of being considered “deviant.” And, believe me, these gay communities are important battlegrounds in the war against intolerance. The homosexual people of West Hollywood are sending a strong message that there’s nothing devious or depraved about being a gay person in this day and age.

There is dignity in being gay. There’s nothing to be ashamed about. Gays aren’t just viewed sex-starved freaks who like to dress up like sadomasochistic circus clowns to march in parades to Village People music and give reach-arounds while redecorating someone’s den.

Not any more. Those stereotypes are as tired as a lesbian’s Doc Martins.

Gone are the days when gay people had to relegate their sexual adventures to clandestine rendezvous in the back seat of a Prius parked in a darkened alley.

You can do that in the open now! Because in West Hollywood, they’ve already passed a resolution that has decriminalized having sex in parked cars.

Yes, folks, West Hollywood is that liberal. And classy too! The city council has sent a clear message here. Gay people like to have sex in cars! And that’s okay. It’s just what gay people do, right? They like to have sex in cars. And why shouldn’t they? It’s a gay ol’ time!

Man, the city council in West Hollywood is really making amazing strides in the way that gay people are viewed by the ignorant public. That’s just what the gay community needs, a hot beef injection of pure class. Good job, men!

But hey, I shouldn’t be too hard on the West Hollywood City Council for passing that “sex in cars” resolution.

I mean, they were probably stoned at the time.

Fun Fact: Congratulate Kevin on his recent mention in the Boston Globe! His parody of James Blunt’s “Beautiful” is getting some press. Right alongside Weird Al! That’s great for Kevin, but it’s good for me too. I did the music for Kevin’s version (I also did the camera work, and Tanya did the playback!)

Yeah me!

If you haven’t heard the tune lately or seen the video, watch it! It didn’t used to have my accompaniment on it but now it does. Taste the difference!

1000 Words

2006-06-16T09:40:00.000-07:00

You know the old adage about a picture being worth a thousand words. I wonder if it still holds true today? Is there some kind of adjustment for the amount of megapixels? And what if your camera can record sound? Is a picture with sound worth more than a thousand words?

Does anyone really care? Does postulating such questions make a person seem “deep” or just desperate to sound philosophical? Or is the question-asker just trying desperately to put some words together to look clever and tell you about his new digital camera?

The answer is the latter.

Yes, Tanya and I bought a new camera. Its immediate purpose is to take pictures of our impending trip across the country. Its not-so-immediate purpose is none of your business.

Here’s a picture of the camera that I took with the camera.

It’s not the top of the line or anything, but I think it will serve its purpose quite admirably. I’ve been playing with it a little bit this morning. It’s easy to use. Its biggest advantage (one you can’t see in the picture) is that it has a good sized viewing screen on the back. It’s also nice and compact. Perfect for misplacing.

It was refurbished so we got it a good price. I records 5 megapixels. It also records (surprisingly good) video with (surprisingly good) sound. There’s a little mic on the front. Not a mic that I would ever record an album with, but it’ll definitely be able to do its job at my family reunion this summer.

Maybe when I get back I’ll make a sound collage of every one of my relatives saying to me, “what do you mean you’re only staying three days?!”

Fun Fact: Yesterday, as I mentioned yesterday, I tooled around the greater LA area doing some location scouting. I was lucky enough to have to go to the Huntington Library and Botanical Gardens. I had never been there before. If you haven’t been there, I suggest you go.

It’s gardeny!

Note: This picture was taken with the old camera, thus the slight focus problem. The new camera was one half a day late for my first scouting gig.

Hey Look Behind You! No, Really! There’s Something Behind You! Look!

2006-06-15T09:49:00.000-07:00

See, that? That there is what we in the “biz” call “misdirection.” A way to draw your attention to something else while slight of hand is being performed right in front of you without you ever knowing.

Sucker.

You probably didn’t even notice that the blog post from yesterday has disappeared, did you? That’s because I was very sneaky about it. A good slight of hand artist never reveals his tricks, however.

It’s magic!

Also, I changed the TAM Cartoon again! Man, am I ever sneaky. Sure, you might be thinking to yourself “I would be a lot more impressed if this guy wasn’t such a dumbass.”

You would be right.

Fun Fact: Today I get to pretend that I’m a Location Scout. So I’m off to the four corners of the city to take pictures of various things.

If you know of any place around here with cool topiaries that look like animals and junk, let me know. I already know about the ones on the 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica.

Also, another fun fact: This is only the second time in the history of this blog that I’ve deleted anything. The first post I deleted was the very first one. I wish I hadn’t done that. Not because it was anything great, just for posterity. Don’t worry; yesterday’s post isn’t completely gone. It will live forever on my computer’s hard drive.

It's Only Tuesday

2006-06-13T08:46:00.000-07:00

My dad and brother are still visiting.

They leave on Wednesday...

A New Post

2006-06-12T08:42:00.000-07:00

I don’t have time to write a proper post today. My father is in town with my brother, so I’m entertaining. Last week I was doing some work for a new show on HGTV. So, I apologize for having a boring blog of late.

But you’re going to just have to put up with it for a couple more days.

I’m basically writing this post simply because I’m sick of seeing that old post from last Monday. I’m sure you are too.

So, here. A new post for you. Exciting, isn’t it?

Fun Fact: Alligators carry handbags made of people! It’s people!

Numbers Racket

2006-06-05T10:14:00.000-07:00

My blog readership has declined. Taken a nose-dive really. I suppose it could be a byproduct of the warmer weather. Or, it could be a result of infrequent posting by me. Maybe it is my fault. Perhaps I haven’t been discussing the things that people really care about. Perhaps my thoughts on certain subjects, from epidemic hazard light usage to poor postal service, are just way off base. Who knows? Who cares? Not me. I don’t really care what the “reason” is, I just care that nobody’s really reading at the moment.

So, I’m doing something to boost my numbers.

I’m calling for a ban on gay marriage.

That’s right. I need to connect to the people (well, some of them anyway). I need a good old fashioned “moral war.” It’ll be good for my blog. War is always profitable (until someone finally wins). After all, a good war takes resources. A good war creates jobs. Where once an impoverished unemployed Christian had nothing to do but sit at home having marital sex with his goodwife, popping out child after child, there is now a respectful 9 to 5 waiting for him at one of the many “Family Morals for the Morality of Families”-type organizations. Where once there was an out-of-work gay actor in Los Angeles with nothing to do with his free time other than to sit around feeling sorry for himself and wondering if his acting “coach” has been ripping him off, there are now parades to march in and signatures to collect.

A good war distracts people from the bigger issues.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trivializing the issues of this war on marriage. It’s perhaps the biggest problem facing the country today. In fact, the President himself is going to propose a constitutional amendment today! And if the president thinks it’s important, it must be! I mean, he’s got that thing going on over there in Iraq. The American economy is going down the toilet. Frankly, things are just bad right now. But he’s still taking time out of his busy schedule to try and rewrite the constitution of the United States to keep fairies from marrying other fairies. That’s dedication to a just cause there.

Don’t tell him that something’s “not constitutional.” He’s the freaking President of the United States! He writes the damned constitution! That’s his job! And he’s doing one hell of a job at it too.

I mean, imagine if gays could legally marry! Where would this world be? I’ll tell you where. In hell. That’s where! We’d have guys running around “loving” each other willy-nilly. And on the lesbian side of the issue, there would be nothing but shaved-headed women as far as the eye could see! I’m talking real lesbians here! Not the cute kind you see in porn movies!

Over my dead body, friend.

But now I’m just getting on my high horse a little bit. I should be more sensitive. Let me try to appeal to the gays here. You know, build some bridges. Now, I can’t type with a lisp, but hopefully, they’ll get the idea.

Dear Gays,

Please do not read the above paragraphs. Just start here. The stuff I said up top is really nothing but a lot of garbled words that you wouldn’t understand. So don’t even try. It’s nothing, I tells ya’.

Here. I’ve included a picture for you to look at. It’s a gay “wedding.” Don’t those two “men” look happy? Godless and hedonistically happy. Nice tuxes, “boys.” Hope the “ceremony” was held before Labor Day.

Anyway, I just wanted to write a letter to you gay type people to let you know just how much you’re hurting others with your desire to enter into ungodly wedlock (ignore the word “ungodly,” it’s means nothing, we’re all friend here)(he, he, he, stupid gays)(oh, and ignore that last part too).

Don’t you understand how much your actions are affecting others? Try to have a little compassion here. Your lifestyle threatens a lot of innocent people who just want to go about their lives and be left alone. They want to marry members of the opposite sex in peace. They’re tired to having the institution of marriage attacked on a daily basis by a tiny minority of weirdoes who only want to get “married” in a desperate attempt to legitimize their perversions.

Frankly, the idea of gay marriage hurts the feelings of normal people who want to live normal lives. Your bastardization of emotions like “love” and concepts like “devotion” demeans their real and honest feelings.

Gay marriage chips away at the sacred institution of “real” marriages. You gay people, with your relationships made from so much cardboard and muslin, are turning actual marriages into hollow farces. Soon, marriage will be something that’s not taken seriously anymore. Straight people will start to get married on whims. Divorce will run rampant. Soon, the reasons that straight people get married, sacred, holy reason like “love,” “devotion” and “unexpected pregnancy” will be gone. In there place will be left but a shadow of what marriage used to be. A grim, characterless reminder of something great.

And then what’s next? Where will gay people stop? Will they ever stop? Are our Oreo cookies going to start tasting like Hydrox?

So, we’re friends right, gay peeps? Yes, of course we are. Because I don’t talk down to you, that’s why. You see the error of your ways. But let me make one last appeal.

Stop trying to get married. Okay? It’s bad. It hurts people. There are people all over the country right now, holy, pious, god-fearing people who are being made to suffer because of your callous selfishness. Why do you want to hurt them? They have done nothing to you have they? Other than defend themselves from your assertions, of course. And why shouldn’t they? They’re being threatened. They feel excluded for no good reason other than the fact that they disagree with you. Now, most of the time, you won’t be able to tell who these people are. They look just like people. But they’re different. Trust me. But they have feeling just like any other human being. And you’re making them uncomfortable at the moment. You’re scaring them.

Why are you persecuting these fine upstanding people with your perverse idea of marriage? Because they’re different? Because they have a different set of values than you do? Is that right?

How would you like it if they did that to you?

Thank you for your gay time,

TAM

Fun Fact: It’s hard to sell a home. What’s yours worth? How does it stack up to the other houses in the neighborhood? What’s the house next door worth?

Well, you can stop peeking into your neighbor’s windows when they’re on vacation to see if their kitchen still has its original Formica countertops. You can stop sneaking into the house across the street at 3am while the family sleeps to see if they’ve remodeled the downstairs bathroom or done any other cosmetic work that would improve the value of their home.

Just go here and type in an address (zillow.com). You might not find a ton of useful info, but it’s sure fun.

It’s a bit outdated. It still shows the house next door to me and it’s been torn down for a while now.

Enjoy!

Here was my second option for a gay wedding picture. I thought the men looked better. But I wanted to share this one anyway because you can’t have a lesbian wedding without Lesbian Al Roker performing the ceremony. She's awesome!

Weltschmerz

2006-06-02T09:09:00.000-07:00

Gesundheit.

I watched the Scripps National Spelling Bee last night. Well, part of it anyway. I was flipping back and forth between that and “So You Think You Can Dance?”. You know, to clean the palette.

I’m a card-carrying member of Generation X (although I don’t actually have a card. Cards are dumb). I have been since birth. I didn’t have to do anything particularly strenuous to become an X-er. However, birthing can be pretty traumatic. Just ask the Scientologists.

Anyway, being a generation X type of guy carries with it some responsibilities. You must lack a certain—joie de vivre—shall we say (but always pursue it). Not that I’m forced to be sullen. That comes naturally. But there is certain amount of pessimism that’s expected of people born between the late 60s and 70s (I don’t count 1980 babies. Screw them! They were born in the 80s!). It’s not that we’re dreary or anything. And it doesn’t make a hell of a lot of sense. After all, we were the generation born towards the end of the Cold War. We’ve seen great things (Vietnam isn’t one of them).

But it doesn’t seem to be enough.

Why? Hell, I don’t know. I don’t really care. I’m not here to discuss Generation X (a term that I don’t particularly enjoy by the way, at least I didn’t until I’ve gotten older. I don’t know why I’ve accepted the classification now. Maybe it’s because I can remember when people talked about Generation X as the young punks who were going to ruin the world with their gothic apathy—and it makes me feel young again?).

I’m here to say that I can’t believe that I’ve lived all these years without knowing the word “weltschmerz.”

It was the word that eliminated that little Canadian girl last night. It means: mental depression or apathy caused by comparison of the actual state of the world with an ideal state. Or: a mood of sentimental sadness. It was coined by German writer Jean Paul.

And it fits me to a tee. Sometimes.

So why, as an apathetic Generation X member had I never ran across this word in all of my academic pursuits? Shouldn’t I have seen it at least once?

I should have! In a perfect world I would have!

Whatever. I don’t want to think about it anymore. Who cares anyway? Not me.

Fun Fact: Not counting typos (of which there were many), I only legitimately misspelled 3 words in this entire post (and to be fair to me, one of them was "gesundheit"). Spell checker has since corrected me. Now, the only word it wants me to respell is…

Weltschmerz.

Also, Weltschmerz is a political comic strip by Canadian cartoonist Gareth Lind.

See! It’s a condition that I suffer from and a comic strip! Damn! How could I have not seen this word before?!

O! Cruel Fate!

Fed. Up

2006-06-01T09:51:00.000-07:00

Mr. McFeely weeps.

I’ve had it with the Federal Government and their so-called postal “service.”

There are certain times when I can’t avoid receiving a package or letter that has been sent “registered mail.” I have to sign for these parcels. And I got another one yesterday.

I’ve blogged about this before (and here, by proxy). About my horrific, lazy, painfully slow post office. It’s the place I have to go to sign for these parcels since my mailman is too big of a lazy fuckass to walk up one flight of stairs to deliver my mail.

Well, this morning, since my mailman yesterday wanted to avoid the 30 second round trip to my front door, I had to spend 30 minutes at the post office.

Yes, it took 30 minutes for me to get my package. I suppose it was because I was so far back in line. I was fourth after all.

FOURTH!

This is going to be a short post today. I have to go and write another strongly worded letter to the USPS for them to completely ignore.

I guess I just want to say…

Fuck you, mailman. Fuck you, USPS.

Fun Fact: And fuck the horse you rode in on.

It’s time to privatize all postal service in this country. Not only do the postal workers at the post office have piss-poor customer service, they pride themselves on it. No wonder that so many former postal workers go on murderous rampages and kill their former co-workers. If I had to work with these ass clowns for even one day…

Oh my, the language I’ve used.