Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Random shit

A search on eBay for "bling" turns up 5,733 items.

Also... you know the people behind the dairy section in Trader Joe's, the ones who stock the milk and stuff? They really, really freak me out. For some reason I am deathly afraid of looking through the space between milk cartons and seeing someone back there. Yet, oddly enough, it doesn't freak me out when I'm in a library and I see someone through a space in a bookshelf.

That's it.

Tuesday, November 23, 2004


Last night I saw Overnight , the documentary about Troy Duffy (writer/director of The Boondock Saints). In a nutshell, his story went like this: Bartender sells script to Miramax for huge money, gets to direct script with full casting approval and final cut, gets his band signed to do the soundtrack, then manages to piss off Miramax enough to kill the whole deal.

Anyway, after seeing a movie like that it's hard to resist pondering the whole nature of success. Here's what I came up with.

No matter how successful I become...

1. I'll still start books and not finish them.

2. I'll still have trouble sleeping some nights and then, the next day, be really exhausted by the early afternoon.

3. I'll still order things at restaurants that sound good but end up being disappointing.

4. I'll still eagerly anticipate certain movies months -- even years -- before they come out, only to find out that they suck.

5. I'll still do that weird thing where I'm waiting to use a single-person public restroom and try to open the door but find that it's locked and then walk far away so when the person comes out he doesn't know I was the one who tried to bust in on him.

6. I'll still get slightly depressed when a season of one of my favorite shows is over (especially the cable shows, where you have to wait 6 months to a year for the next season).

7. I'll still eat two Krispy Kreme donuts and then wish I'd only eaten one.

8. I'll still get paper cuts.

9. I'll still go outside in clothes inappropriate to the weather but not feel like going back inside to change once I realize what the actual temperature is.

10. I'll still call people and get their voicemail.

11. I'll still get colds, sore throats, headaches, and occasional indigestion.

12. I'll still get songs stuck in my head.

13. I'll still be talking to someone and not understand what they're saying and just nod because I've already asked them to repeat themselves twice.

14. I'll still forget where I put things.

15. I'll still wake up in the middle of the night and have to pee but really not want to get out of bed and just lie there for a few minutes trying to will myself back to sleep.

16. I'll still be allergic to cats.

17. I'll still obsess retroactively about the impression I make on girls.

18. I'll still write things down and then not be able to read my own writing.

19. I'll still forget people's names and be embarrassed when they remember mine.

20. I'll still lose my train of thought.

So, really, what's the point?

Monday, November 22, 2004

McSweeney's does it again

Tales of Erotica: Chuck Norris and Me

Guest which hand?

I think it was probably Disney who first hit upon the idea of replacing the word "customer" with the word "guest" in every possible instance. Which is fine for them, because they're nuts. But I really don't like how this practice has spilled over into all kinds of other places where "guest" just isn't appropriate. At Blockbuster, they're actually saying "next guest in line, please." And that creeps me out, because I do not want to be thought of as a guest there. I want to be thought of as a wallet with feet, and they're just trying to get the ten-dollar bill out of me and kick me to the curb as quickly as possible. That's exactly the relationship I want to have with Blockbuster. I do not want to sit in front of Blockbuster's fireplace and sip cognac and discuss Faulkner's early short stories. Same goes for Baja Fresh. I'm really okay with being just a customer. I don't need to sleep on their blue Ikea futon and use their weird cinnamon toothpaste. Just give me my burrito and our relationship is over.

Friday, November 19, 2004

Cingular Über Alles

When I walked into the (formerly) AT&T store yesterday to wander around and look at phones, they couldn't stop telling me how great it would be if I switched my AT&T plan to a Cingular plan... I mean, rollover minutes! (Rollover minutes! They're the greatest thing ever! If you don't have rollover minutes, you'd better just swallow this whole bottle of Xanax right now.) And yes, I have a better deal under AT&T right now, but it'll all be switched over to Cingular within a year, so I might as well do it now so I can start building up "bonuses" or whatever. Then I realized that now that the merger is complete, there are three Cingular/AT&T stores in Westwood in about a one-block radius. Then some well-dressed Korean guys handed me a pamphlet and asked me if I had accepted Cingular as my personal savior. I think things have gotten out of control.

Thursday, November 18, 2004


While eBay may have some interesting stuff for sale right now, I think it's being outdone by the Paris Review Auction.

Check it out... you can have lunch at the Playboy Mansion, a Knicks game with the Basketball Diaries dude, and my personal favorite, get your voicemail message recorded by Alec Baldwin.

They're on the pricey side. But wouldn't it be worth it all just to have your voicemail say, "What's my name? Fuck you, that's my name. 'Cause you drove a Hyundai to get here tonight and I drove an eighty thousand dollar BMW, that's my name. Leave a message at the beep."

Monday, November 15, 2004

Shocking news item of the day

The government is advising against traveling to Afghanistan. Really? Well, I guess the "It's a Small World" ride isn't quite done yet.

It's not Christmas without funny-tasting soda

After I heard about this wacky Holiday Pepsi (through Hissyfit.com), I figured I should give it a try, if for no other reason than to blog about how it tastes. Sadly, there isn't much to say. It's tinted red, which would seem to imply a relatively drastic change in flavor, but it basically tastes just like Pepsi except for some kind of indistinct "bite" and a weirdish aftertaste.

I think I'll stick with Holiday Coke, assuming they still have those vintage Santa pictures on the cans. Those are cool.


Although I will readily admit to being hooked on both The Apprentice and The Amazing Race, I still think reality-the-noun is a lot more entertaining than reality-the-word-that-goes-before-television. Case in point: Found Magazine, recently introduced to me by Rossanna. It's a monthly collection of random notes, journal entries, emails, handwritten ads, etcetera, that people find on the floor at bus stations or stuck to the bottom of their shoe or wherever. Some of them are depressing; some make you think; some are just absolutely fucking hilarious. I think I need a subscription.

Friday, November 12, 2004

Here I shill again

I'm Nick and I approved this message.

I highly encourage any and all, especially any and all in the L.A. area, to check out the newly formed blog of Alastra & Sons, Purveyors of Fine & Fresh Theatre for information on their debut pair o' plays coming next week to a theater near you. ("Near you" meaning "near Melrose and the 101.")

The plays are called The Declaration of Independence vs. The Constitution of the United States and Romeo & Candace, and I've read them both and seen rehearsals for the latter, and can assure you that they both kick ass. And I'm not just saying that because they're putting up my first play in January. Really. No, really. No, actually really. But don't take my word for it -- definitely don't take my word for it; come and see the plays for yourself.

Thursday, November 11, 2004

It's not my fault

I really didn't want to make any jokes about Veteran's Day. It's a sacred holiday that has honored brave American soldiers since 1926. And if you work for UCLA, it's a day off.

But look who the freaking official spokesperson is! Tell me the Department of Veteran Affairs was not just trying to make us snort milk out our noses.

Tuesday, November 09, 2004

One more thing

I also found a flyer for this place at Boba Loca. It's kind of ridiculously overpriced but sounds fun. I wonder if they have inspirational verse written on the Segways.

Praise the Lord Jesus Boba

Since I am nothing if not hopelessly predictable, I went today for my usual Tuesday boba-or-shake-or-ice-cream-or-other-sugary-comestible-that-will-eventually-kill-me. The locale of choice? Boba Loca here in Westwood. (There are only about 276 places to get boba in Westwood, and I still have about three or four to check off the list.)

Anyway, written at the bottom of the boba cup was: "Acts 16:3 - Accept the Lord Jesus and you will be saved -- you and your household." (Something to that effect, anyway.) This is interesting for two reasons.

1. Right below the bible quote it said "This drink contains small tapioca balls which may be a choking hazard. Drink carefully." (But in case you don't drink carefully, you'd better accept the Lord Jesus right-the-hell-now, because you don't want your tapioca-filled soul to suffer eternal torment.)

2. According to any number of online Bibles, that quote wasn't remotely accurate. A quick Google search has revealed that the real Acts 16:3 says: "Him would Paul have to go forth with him; and took and circumcised him because of the Jews which were in those quarters: for they knew all that his father was a Greek." I guess that didn't have quite the effect the Boba Loca folks were shooting for.

Monday, November 08, 2004

Smooth Jazz

What the hell is that, anyway? I guess it's what I'm listening to right now, while I'm on hold for Singapore Airlines trying to see if I can bump my boss up to business class for her flight home from Japan. But I just don't see what it has to do with jazz. It's like calling the Backstreet Boys "smooth Clash." I'm not the hugest fan of jazz in the world, but I'm well aware that it's one of the most sophisticated musical forms we have, if not the most sophisticated, and there's something seriously wrong when Singapore Airlines hold music is allowed to appropriate the word that defines its genre.

Now that that's out of the way, does anybody have a robot truck that can drive from L.A. to Vegas? You could win $2 million.

Wednesday, November 03, 2004

A little snag

Seems like migrating to Canada may be a little trickier than expected. But that's no reason to give up.

It's a sad day

No, not because of that. (Vancouver, remember? Cheap apartments and pretty trees.)

It's a sad day because I have realized I must give up my beloved daily Diet Vanilla Pepsi. The last two days that I drank it, I got a great caffeine buzz for a couple of hours, and then a raging headache immediately afterwards. And I could probably counteract the headache with advil or vicodin or heroin or something, but I don't want to go down that road.

Tuesday, November 02, 2004


It's not over, but it doesn't look good.

Chances are I'm going to be looking long and hard at these sites over the next few days.




I know a lot of people talk about moving to Canada in this type of situation, but I kind of want to be the one who actually does it.

Because Canadians get it. Actually, pretty much the rest of the world gets it. Just not us.

Bright side?

Well, Vancouver is tied for the best city in the world to live in. And you can get a 2-bedroom for about $750 American.

Monday, November 01, 2004

Point, counterpoint

I'm so flattered. Reena has created a blog for the specific purpose of refuting my Valley ramblings.

At the risk of sounding like a broken record...