Amazon Ad

Friday, July 28, 2006

10 Items or Less...suriously



So, first of all I just want to apologize for my abscence from my writing, my websites, and my youth in general. I try to keep up, but when one works 14 hours a day on average, it gets hard. And then to add to that, when I don't have access to a computer, it gets even worse. Anyway, this show has been a fucking blast so far. Lots of work, lots of hard work. No sleep, save for the hours that my body physically collapses...its just been one hell of a ride. Anyway, the photo you see above is in fact of our cast. Its been slightly modified since then. The bald fellow you see in back, with the glasses, is Brian Posehn. You may recognize him from Mr. Show, or his Comedy Central Presents Specai. Point being, he's hilarious, but has moved on to do other work since then. He's been replaced with the guy in the orange neon vest. Who's playing his role now? A guy named Bob Clendenin. He works all the time. Look him up- IMDB. They'll share. And then of course every show needs an antagonist, so Jennifer Elise Cox has been added to the ensemble as well. She's done a lot of great work as well, but its important to note what I first recognized her from- The Brady Bunch Movie, where she played Jan Brady. Revisit that flick, jerk off to Christine Taylor, and make a day of it.

In addition to all that, the gentleman in the center there is one Mr. John Lehr. Pronounced Leer, so sorry Rob Lehr. This guy has worked and does work a ton. but I doubt most of his scripted stuff even does him justice. He also showed up in something that everyone in America has seen at this point. I would take time to talk about it, but the picture really says it all.



Yes, he was one of the world famous cavemen in the geico commercial which has been received so well and was so critically acclaimed that they shot like 6 more and its become modern art, displayed in multi-media museum spaces across the globe. And that, to me, is better than any movie role or whatever.

Anyway, this gig has been great, but its been taxing as well. The saving grace comes from our awesome crew, a team that might be the most awesome team ever invented. Like, suriously.

Speaking of Suri...siri mmmm...wait, suri...ok, so is it just me, or does siri have more A-list eye witnesses than the OJ trial. And yet, we've broken 100 days without actually seeeing her. Like, what is that? Jada says she's "beautiful" oh and the lovely and Leah Remini claims she's held and seen her. So I guess it's only scientologists and rich black people that are allowed to witness her. Hazaa! Hooray for hollywood.

If you ask me, this has the potential to be one of the largest conspiracies ever conceived by this sci-fi-by-night religion, one constituted of a hierarchy based solely on financial earnings. And I know this is a huge cover up already, but you know what? I think they're bluffing. In fact, I know they are bluffing. How do I know this? Katie Holmes is a lesbian. How do I know that? Cause she won't fuck me.

So,my charming yet brokeback roommate Grant informed me this morning that the FBI may be coming to our apartment to interview me. I won't say what for, rest assured its nothing negative, but it was just one of the most absurd things anyone has ever said to me. Because, you know...typically when someone says something in passing like, yeah watch out for the feds too, I laugh and let it roll off my shoulders. This, however, is completely different.

I'll let it go.

So I just found out that I am going to party my ass off this weekend. Go figure.

back to work, TV needs me.

Friday, July 21, 2006

the weekend comes...

well, this week has been one out of science fiction. I'm not sure what day it is, what month it is, season, etc. Its crazy, yes...but I've completely lost touch with normal society and this is my first return to that existence. Doesn't make sense does it? Well, perhaps I can explain it more and we can all laugh about how shiity my life was (and will be again come monday).

See, I work in TV production. That's what I do. And more often than not, its the only thing I do. This week was especially taxing due to an average call time of 5:15 am daily. Oh, and I live 30 miles from our set, so I have to leave at like 4:40 am to get to work on time.

ugh.

and yet, surprisingly, this is more common than you would think. This industry is based on a 12 hour day instead of your more common 8-10 hour day. And I'm not saying 'look at me, I'm working long and hard and you losers aren't worth shit to me. No, in fact that is not the case. The difference comes when you all have time for your girlfriends or boyfriends. Your social functions, your life.

These are things I do not get the privledge of enjoying during a production season. Instead, I come home so tiired and dead to the world that I have no other option but to sit on my couch and pass out eventually. But then I get torn because I want to stay up to have a life, but I'm not really doing anything.

Well, this weekend I am going to make up for it. Tonight its tennis with Jonny boy, and then a evening on the town. Tomorrow night I am having dinner in Chinatown and then heading to the Dodgers Cardinals game, thank you Mike Pincus.

Sunday will be more tennis and a whole sleuh of errands I have to run.

You know...reading this again...this is the most boring blog post I've ever made. And I don't intend to to anything about it.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

oh the time I don't have

Hey.

So, like...I know you want attention.

but I'm not your bitch.


ha. Listen everyone, I am in production hell right now (at work at between 5 and 6 am all week, off between 8 and 9 PM), and don't have a ton of time for this blog. I will do my best to post over the weekend, but I'm just gonna go ahead now and say that I'll be sleeping. drunk.

outside.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

pirates of penzance 2: the curse of the jade scorpion



ok, so I slept through the first one. So I really have no basis to even judge this movie against. But I do have the ability to view this movie as a free standing seperate work, since I basically slept through the first one.

With that said, this movie is awesome. Forget the actors and the 'no plot-plot' and everything. What really made this movie for me was the art direction, the sets, the amazing CGI, the costumes and make up...all those technical elements that we take for granted, that when actually don't think about. But given 50 million dollars to work with, they turn out really well, and production value goes sky high at that point.

I could care less if Jack Sparrow did anything the entire movie. In fact, this movie would have been just as good to me if Jack Sparrow was really named Jack "the sparrow" Kerouac, and he just sailed the seas for 3 hours, getting into hijinx and acting slightly gay/drunk. Wait, those are basically the same.

Anyway, for those of you who don't know, Johnny Depp modeled his role after Kieth Richards. Seems absurd, doesn't it? Yeah, but it makes sense when you really think about it. He basically is dressed the same way Kieth Richards always is, with some sort of bandana, messed up British teeth, and an outfit that looks as dated as...well...Kieth Richards actually is.

That being said, its hard not to like Kieth Richards, who said earlier this week that he's ready for another Stones tour, and eager to get back on the road. And to think, SNL made all those jokes about how Kieth Richards won't die.

Well, that's going to be true. It was announced recently that Kieth Richards has signed on to play Jack Sparrow's father in Pirates 3, sked to be released next summer, and probably at this point due to break its own gigantic record set this past weekend.

Those of you outside of LA...have you heard what it earned? 135.6 million its opening weekend. And that was just here in the US. Then Grant told me it earned another whopping 18 million monday night, following opening weekend. Even last nighht, at a huge theatre, we were elbow to elbow with people.

This movie is a cultural phenomenon. One that I think I need to capitalize on. Yaaarrr.


yaaarrr indeed.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

the age old question


vs.










So often in life we ignore what really matters. Trains exploding in India, genocide in Africa, AIDS in general, and of course...who was a more viable superhero: Super Pickle or Banana Man?

I know, I know...its seems as if the two can't even be compared. But I can remember, as a child, being in posession of both a banana man toy and a super pickle doll. Err...boy-doll. Shit, I am fucked here. Not a doll. A dolly. Wait, that's worse.

Anyway, I've done a lot of deliberating, purely based on the vague memories i have of even owning one of these things.

I can remember being about 7 years old and going with my mother to a toy store in Atlanta. This store had lime green walls with a more kelly green colored counter tops and trim. It was as if the purchase of super pickle was meant to be. And I may be slightly off about the details of the exact shop, but its a vivid memory for me, and I know I left that store triumphantly with a super pickle "toy."

I guess my biggest problem is that Super Pickle actually is a pickle, where as Banana Man was actually a man who was banana themed. Yeah, we all know what that means. Plus super pickle had this awesome cape and these little arms. And they didn't put stuffing in the arms, so it was like this firm pickle thing with these droopy arms that were striped white, blue, and red-orange.

Ok, this blog post is going boystown rather quickly. And in retrospect, it does seem a little odd that I had to phallus themed toys as a boy. Perhaps it helped shape who I am today: a chronic masturbator.

Anyway, now I am going to start my pursuit of finding a new super pickle plush toy (there's the term I've been searching for) as soon as possible.

And as far as the age old question about who was the better superhero? Well, I don't think either of them really ever did anything but helped some asshole at matel make money, so I'm gonna say this:

Super Pickle wins because Banana Man took himself too seriously. I mean, look at him up there. Flying through space like he's buz lightyear. That ass. Superr pickle just kicked it in hhis animated world with pickle girl and hung out. That seems more like me, so that is what I am saying.

Anyone else got a toy they remember from childhood? A good Teddy Ruxbin story? Add a comment, share it with the world!

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

tennis hero- alone

Last weekend we played tennis. It was fun. But now, it seems, tennis has become our drug of choice as we are trying to find any and every free moment under the sun (or moon...anyone know of any courts that have lights?) to play tennis. And play we shall.

Last night was a wash...I got off work much later than I should have...I'll hold my tongue on that one...but by the time I got off, it was practically dark, and when we went to the courts, they were all full. Fuckers. Who'd a thought, at fairfax high school, more than 3 sets of people would want to play.

The shitty thing is that since it's free, I can't exactly be like- hey, we actually signed this court out from 6-9 tonight. Sorry, come again! Out here, that'd get me shot...with a rubberband. And children would cry. They would, trust me- children cry. They make a habit of it.

Which reminds me...

Why is it that when I get on a plane, everyone always says "ooh- make sure not to make light of the 9/11 stuff."

"ooh, scott- don't open your big mouth and make some joke. They'll throw you in jail."

Well, for those of you who know me, you know I don't hold my tongue. Its just something I don't do. And I take pride in that fact, knowing that I don't "front" or give people some misconception of who I really am. Like, I could just sit there silently, looking hot (let me have this one), and not talk. Women would think I was this really complex guy who was sensitive and had his shit together. The funny thing is that I AM ALL THOSE THINGS...but when you open your mouth as much as I do, people tend to think differently.

Like, I'm not sure a woman has even looked at me sexually since...jesus...last summer?

Wait a second...where was I going with this? Oh yeah...so babies right? I get through airport security, I let them frisk me, pull me to the side, drug test me, beat me, etc. I don't say a word, I let them do their job, I respect them for that, and I sure as shit am not stupid enough to open my big mouth when I go to an airport. SO PLEASE STOP REMINDING ME. I'm not 11, I'm 111. Somewhere in there.

Anyway, after the ardous task of getting through security, I go and sit in a middle seat that's too small for anyone ever, and I have to listen to a baby 2 seats in front of me scream, piss, shit, kick, grab, bite any and everyone for however long the flight is.

Ok, where the fuck are the US Marshalls on that one? Its a total double standard. Cause if I get up, yell, cry, and shit myself- not only do I get thrown off the flight, but I get called a terrorist, and get detained.

Whatever happened to free speech? If I want to make a gun joke at an airport, I should be able to. Or do we just claim to support these tenets of democracy, and not actually enforce them?

Additionally, and I know what you're thinking...babies don't have control over what they do, so how can they be held accountable.

And we think some brainwashed terrorist is any different? I'm not kidding here people. The similarities are striking. But to then ground a flight cause I had wicked diarhhea and had to run to the front bathroom before I shit my pants? Well, America is getting a little too worried I think.

If a parent wants to bring a baby on a plane, then there needs to be a seperate sound-proof booth for them to sit in. Lets make it smell proof too.

What's that? Too much to ask of our airlines? Great, then here's a feasable way to make this actually come in to practice:

make anyone who flies with a baby sit in the very far back. Let them all be miserable together. Then, make the rest of the fucking plane first class and get me drunk. I swear, I'm half tempted to never fly again until I am 1st class all the way. Pretentious as fuck, I know...but I just can't take this double standard bull shit anymore.

And another thing...if you have a baby, don't get on a fucking airplane until they are responsiible enough to handle it.

Monday, July 10, 2006

insert caption here

Wile perusing the lovely site gawker.com, which, by the way is an awesome site for you celeb whores out there. I don't even know what to say about this, and gawker really didn't either, so I have decided to make up a little story...you know, from the horses point of view...enjoy:



My story with Horsey....horsey being Hillary Duff.

I started as a conglmerate of pebbles, some volcanic, but mostly just sandstone and things lower than 5 on the Moh's hardness scale. When I was conceived, the last way I thought I'd end up was as a horse head on the side of some crazy building. Traditionally speaking, its more of a gargoyle's job. And I ain't no stinkin gargoyle. Never have been, never will be. Not to say I am against gargoyles...I mean, I play poker on thursdays with some guys who are definetely more gargoyle than anything else, and we get along great. they're practically a chip off the old block (for the readers, that's the last stone-related joke I will make).

Anyway, I know what you're thinking...you're thinking 'ooh this is a total photo shop picture.' But it's not. Look, Hllary Duff gets harassed enough by actual humans, the fact that she would take time to still pose with them is a modern marvel. But after our briief photo session, she confessed that I was the first stone horse she'd even done a session with. Then she went downtown and did another session.

What? She's a busy girl...can't expect her to hang with me in the burbs all day now, can you? And I know this seems absurd, because quite frankly: I'm a stone horse. But get over it. The fact that I am a stone horse is the last thing we should even be dwelling upon. Rather, think about the tornado in the background there. Where did it come from?

I can tell you: it came froim me and Hillary's firey love. And it isn't going away.

And the gingerbread house? I can explain that as well. Essentially, even as a stone horse, a guy's still gotta work. I need to feed my kids right? After all, they are my little ponies. And I love them. And when their mother and I (who will remain nameless, the chunty whore) made these little blesssings, she left me high and dry for a gig as a horse podeum at Churchhill Downs. Good for her. Yeah, no worries. I'll just take care of the kids, and manage my career protecting a tornado ridden gingerbread house. Right?

I am also really happy that she is sitting on a cheeta print couch. Any horse print and she would have had some 'splainin to do.

Anyway, I'm just a stone horse trying to get by.

Got a funnier story? I don't doubt it. I am a moron, so you could shit on a CD and that would turn out better. Anyway, if you got something you think is a laugh riot, leave it as a comment, or shoot me an email @ askscottsomething@yahoo.com!

yay for absurdity!

hibachi!



This past weekend saw a lot of action for the sweetzer crew. We were berry busy, berry berry busy. But it was fun as hell, and between you and me- I wouldn't trade it for the world. What happened? Oh, so glad you asked because a whole hell of a lot did.

Friday night, I got home from work and Grant and I went to Target like the married couple we AREN'T. It was a blast. We got lots of goodies, and saw some of the best looking women in Los Angeles. I know, I know...I too have heard that the grocery store is where it's at as far as meeting women goes, but Target's got its charm as well. And much to my surprise as well, the groceries there were cheaper than that of Ralphs or Vons...maybe not Jon's, and certainly cheaper than Whole Foods, Trader Joe's or Gelsons. Ok, so that's a lot of grocery stores.

After Tar-j, we headed to the Souplantation at La Cienega and 3rd st. with our pals Charlie and Philberto. It was a dandy time, except that when we all left, we felt as bloated as we used to in college when we would leave the dining hall. Think: dinner at huffman, but they charged me 10 bucks to get in. Yeah, bull shit right? I even gave them my student ID and that didn't do me for shit! They wouuldn't take it. Then they tried to confiscate it. I was like, do you want it or not? Cause I can't keep getting my wallet out then putting it away, my doctor specifically told me not to do that.

Upon returning home, and crying about how much our tummies hurt, we decided the only cure was beirut and natural light. After that, we hit the bar and then came home. Jon and Matty were with me, but I passed out, locking them out of my building, like some total ding dong.

Saturday proved to be the opposite of glutony. Watched the soccer game, did 3 loads of laundry. Then we went and played tennis, something we're going to make a weekly routine now. Afterwards, we had reservations for 8 at Benihana, hence the lame picture, so we were pumped for that.

But as it so often happens, 8 became 4, and it was just Grant, Jon, Matt and I eating there. We got fat once more, and then headed back home to drink our faces off. I barley made it til midnight, as we sat through 2 pretty bad movies: Hostel and Nacho Libre. Ok, granted I slept through most of Nacho Libre (sorry to miss your call bangs!), but Hostel was tolerable. That's where I'll stop. Tolerable.

Sunday was of course the day that the team the US tied won the cup. Whoop dee freakin do for that. yay pepperoni nation. But afterwards I started work as a writer's assistant on a novel that a former boss-turned-colleage is writing. She made notes with me in mind, and after a short punch up session, we could both tell this was going to be a good fit.

4 hours later, I was back home, dining on t-bell with grish. We took in an Entourage (best of the season thus far), and then the new Chapelle's show (so glad they left out the musical guest- and added that tupac song! that was hilarious! I wrote this song a long time ago!) Then watched a few battlestar episodes (fuck you rob (and sarah)) and then hit the hay.

All in total, a busier weeekend than I have enjoyed in the past, but this time: it felt really good. Like I had a life.

and I like that feeling, I really do.

Friday, July 07, 2006

BONO-ER

So for those of you as bored at work as I am, did anyone see Bono's thingy at the top of yahoo this afternoon? His question was

'how can we end world poverty?'

Oh goodie, I am so glad Bono cares about world poverty. Maybe he can team up with Sean Penn and they can timeshare a boat together. Not a yacth though, that's too extravagant.

But I mean, come on here people. Has Bono really gained that much persuasion that he now is able to go to yahoo and say, I want to post a blurb on your home page that talks about poverty, so I can remind everyone in the worldwide universe just how obnoxious I am.

I mean, yes- poverty is a problem. A huge one. One of those issues that grapples the world because of its long-reaching implications, effects, etc. And that's all well and good (or well and bad), but who are the people who then say, well...Bono told us to fight poverty, so we are donating money.

wow, whoopdy freakin do.

Is it just me, or should poverty just be an issue we're all aware and active on anyway?

Besides, with the ebb and flow of life and the way things work...the world needs some poverty so that people have something to fight for. There has to be some bad so we realize how good it can be.

Because if poverty disapppears, then where are we? Some wack socialist republic? In the country I'm from- AMERICA- we persucted communists as recently as 50 years ago. Then why are people lapping up Bono's mouth piss like it's water in the sahara? It drives me insane.

I don't necessarily mind ALL of U2's music. They have, in total, a collection of songs (that would be about an LP's length) that I like. Beyond that, there is no explicable reason as to why Bono is given a nobel peace prize. He's just a fucking rock star, nothing more, nothing less.

And while I do agree that haviing a celebrity endorsement on something like this will increase awareness, and get more people involved, but its not like poverty is a new thing. And another thing- what is Bono in the fight against poverty?

PR

does a global issue like poverty need PR? No. Caring about something like that, doing something about poverty, that's something that is in you. Inherently. Good people do good things. And in light of that, I think if Bono really wanted to help, he should have kept his fucking face shut and made an anonymous donation to 'poor people' in hopes that some good would come from it.

In the meantime, stick to music cause I could hardly stand your voiced before, but when you talk....good GOD! Kill me!

The Hollywood Bowl, June 7th, 2006



and





OK, so maybe not the traditional way to look at this band's title, but I did always find it intriguing that their name is 2 very distinct Disney characters...and two of my favorite. Who doesn't love Sebastian, the little crab? But more importantly, Beauty and the Beast was like this epic amazing animated movie. Then Paramount releases Anastasia, and we're supposed to give a shit.

Have you ever noticed how Paramount releases animated movies (or computerized movies this day and age) right after Disney does? They are awful. I feel like they aren't even trying. Honestly. Chances are its because theya aren't, but hell, who knows.

Anyway, a good friend of mine offered me a ticket to this show this monday and I was in shock. Never did I think I would get to see Belle and Sebastian, much less with the Shins, but the most shocking of all: with the Los Angeles Philaharmonic Orchestra behind them.

Like two in the poot one in the shoot SHOCK ME baby. The show was off the hook. Ok, ok...so we all but misses the Shins set. But we needed beer, and quite frankly, it made Belle and Sebastian all the better.

The most amazing thing to me however, wasn't the music. It was the ability of 30,000 people to come in to a show, take a seat, and just sit back and listen to a show. I was in awe. I looked around several times to make sure I wasn't dreaming, but it was in fact real.

People were sitting down, enjoying the show, as if it was something they do all the time. And in a city like Los Angeles, well...sorry for not giving it's citizens credit, but I didn't think people had the capacity to just sit back and hang out. Turns out not only do they have that ability, but they are damn good at it as well.

The show's highlights included their amazing lead singer captivating the audience, blending a sort of Bobby Darin charisma with a full orchestra. It amazed me they weren't more freaked out, seeing as this was the biggest show they've ever played (literally) and they were smaller than their 'backing band.'

Besides identifiable tunes like "Cuckoo," "Dear Catastrophe Waitress," and "The Boy With the Arab Strap," they also managed to play a lot of songs I've never heard before. Keep in mind that before this show, I had only heard 2 of thier albums: Tigermilk and Dear Catastrophe Waitress. I loved both of them, but its only now I truly appreciate what they do.

The other thing I noticed was that since these guys are Scotish, their music reflects that at times. Does anyone ever listen to music from that part of the world? Even the rockers have a distinct sound there. Sure Franz Ferdinand was heavily influenced by the post-punk era sound, but indie music from that region seems to have a distinctly european sound. I don't know quite how to place it, but it's really unique. Like going to see Calexico crossed with David Byrne. Does that help? Like seeing James crossed with the beatles white album. Like seeing the arcade fire crossed with the smiths.

All in all, the show blew me away and I cannot wait for my next chance to see them live. Just thought I would share, seeing as this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

Enjoy your weekend.

Next concert: Death Cab For Cutie, August 13, the Greek Theatre, Los Angeles

Thursday, July 06, 2006

meet me at the muny, the muny in forest park!

I have the biggest craving to see that stupid local St. Louis ad. I know, I know...its totally absurd...but something about local missouri commercials, and how they are practically identical to the local commercials here...I find it rather unsettling.

There's this ad out here for this car dealership and they keep saying, "Keyes Keyes Keyes, Keyes on Van Nuys." Instead of Ba-Ba-Ba, Ba-barbara ann (oh barbara ann, baby take my hand) or whatever they say.

And everytime I hear the thing I want to freak out and smash the TV cause the commercial is just so annoying. The ironic thing is that that isn't even the worst one. There's yet another commercial that I get subjected to on an almost daily basis. Its for the Leeds Mattress Store. Now, those of you in LA know how abismal this commercial is. Especially at the end when he says, "or your mattress is freeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Yeah, get me a gun bigger than jesus's dick and blow my brains out.

Like, who are these people? Who are the people that help them make these commercials, and then who are their supposed friends who let this crap hit the airwaves? Now I know what you're thinking..."well, those commercials worked on you, you're talking about them now, you've clearly memorized them, so they clearly worked."

Did they? Do you see me buying a car from Keyes on Van Nuys and then driving that car to the Leeds Mattress Store and getting a stack of beds to slide down a hill on? Do you see me singing these obnoxious commercials day in and day out, regardless of if I am in a church and we're in silent prayer, or I have the microphone in front of 30,000 people at Dodger Stadium? No, you don't and you never will.

Because people always confuse a jingle as being this powerful thing that affects you. Something that as soon as its in you, you just can't shake it, no matter what you do. Yeah, there's another thing like that out there, its called terminal illness and it does the same thing- only this one kills you. More often than not in a painful drawn out fashion, leaving no cell unaffected, and no moment comfortable.

Local commercials are the cancer that is eating away at TV. And until these idiots can just realize that their ads do nothing but push people even futher away, they're just going to spread and spread until we can't come back. Scripted television will be replaced by public access 8th and Ocean. And all the kids on the show will be the biggest stars in the universe.

Well, I for one will not stand for it.

So, you know...do what you will with that...and then suck it trebek!

In other news, last night the two (well, two of three) wambach girls and I went to see Steph's roommate Steph (I know, its abbott and costello all over again...and yes I meant Kurt Abbott and Elvis Costello, who else is there?) kickball game. Now, I had never been to an actual adult-league semi-professional kickball game before. They had uniforms, and afterwards I found out this was the quarter finals in their tourney. If they win next week, they get to go to Miami, Florida and compete in the US finals.

How fucking absurd is that? After being there for like 5 minutes, I could only think one thing: I want in. So I joined, right then and there, kicked the game winning homerun, and retired forever. After the game, they also retired my number (number .367 by the way), and gave a billion dollar check to charity, citing 'the greatest performance in semi-pro sports history, with ones legs'. So this prosthetic leg clinic got all this money. I'm a glad I did something nice. Sadly though, 3 hours later, when we were out celebrating, I ran into the guys from the leg clinic at this respectful gentleman's club called 'The Body Shop.' I just wish it was a bath and body shop, cause I could practically smell how rife with disease these strippers were...anyway, after hours of blueballing, my legs fell asleep. Ironic too, as the guys who were buying me all these lap dances worked for a prosthetic leg clinic. Perhaps though, there was never a more apropriate time for that to happen.

Ok ok...so I didn't really lose feeling in my legs..but the rest is true, I swear.


**************************************************************

Before I go...

Today Emmy nominations were announced. I am proud to cite that Arrested Development got the nod in 3 very important categories: Best supporting actor for Will Arnett and his portrayl of Gob Bluth. Best writing for the episode titled 'Development Arrested' (the infamous episode where they make all the HBO and showtime references, like the week they were actually cancelled), and Best Comedy Series. They also got a nom for best editing for 'The Ocean Walker,' Charlize Theron's last appearance in the series, when at the end she walks over the pool.

Anyway, seeing as a series I was a part of actually got a nod when I was working there, that means a lot. Its kind of a mini milestone in my otherwise 'throw away' career thus far. Especially if we win.

Oh my god, I can say 'we' instead of 'they!' I am giddy.

yikes...I just piddled a little, I gotta change diapers. PEACE

Monday, July 03, 2006

hey

remember that 2 weeks of my life that we all missed? Yeah, including me...

anyway, its come to a hault and I am now back in action. I'll be posting an album review tomorrow or the next day...and now that I'm back in a writer's office again, should be writing a whole fuck butt more. In keeping with that theme, I thought I would just touch base here while the writers are having a meeting and say hello.

So first of all...this new gig. So this week I am working as a writer's assistant on a show called '10 Items or Less' for TBS. It is premiering this November. Some would call it a mid season, but since TBS has never had a season of really anything before, its not. But it will be 5 episodes of what is already, after 1 day, looking like a kick ass show and project.

Anyway, I got hired as a writer's PA, but this week I am temping as the writers assistant. Today was my first real day of being in the writers room, taking notes, compiling notes, preparing everything to then go back to them so they can read these notes, and then edit their work. I know, seems cyclical and boring, but this is one hell of a vital step in the writing world. And the professional writing world is one I cannot enter until I put in my time doing any and everything I can along the way.

And believe you me, this is a dream job...because I realize that the fruits of my labor (no, not doo doo) will reward me at some point down the line.

The past few weeks have been a goddamned mad house. After returning from that wedding missing home like mad, I've spent many a day indoors and wasted. Now, the vast majority of that has to do with the fact that my good pal Scott Westerbeck was in town from Wednesday until Sunday afternoon...but it also is just because sometimes when I get depressed I go out of control. This was one of those such occassions.

Now, I know all you people out there who have seen me recently or heard from me...you carry this image of my life here and how easily things seem to be coming along. Rest assured I have been dealing with some of my demons and here's the resolve I've found in its plainest most simple terminology:

this place isn't some fantasy in People Magazine. Its a real place where real shit happens and sometimes it gets the best of you. Rarely does that happen to me, but I realized in my brief period between the wedding and Westie's arrival that I needed to get back into a real job again and give my life some form and structure. Turns out, as of recent, that I can't be trusted to get my shit done on my own. Sucks to hear I know, sucks more for me to say, but feels fantastic to realize, because now I can get back on track.

A few nights ago, Jon and I were talking on my balcony. I was telling him about this epiphany I was having that essentially was going to go like this: I don't have to be an actor. Sure I want to, but I'm never going to look at my life as a failure if that's not what I become. There is too much else out there. There is too much to live for. Sadly I never got to say all this cause Jon was drunk and clearly not listening. But that's for the better. I had the epiphany. That was all I needed. And now, when I approach a gig like this, I can't help but think that it ain't so bad after all.

I love writing, so why fight it. And if I follow these things, these things I love, I know my day in the sun will be here sooner than I can even guess.

Sorry for such a retrospective post, but it's clear I've been avoiding this blog because I just wasn't sure what to say. Cause I wasn't sure what to be. And you know what, I'm still not. I have no fucking clue. But instead of sitting here telling myself that my life and my time is getting squandered away. That I could very easily move home, marry a woman, and just give up and sell cars or insurance or something...but that's not what its all about.

Maybe its the whole sleuh of documentaries about outer-space that I've been watching, but I suddenly feel very small iin life, and am beginning to think it doesn't matter all that much.

That sounded wrong. What I meant was that I don't have to be remembered by the masses when I go like some Marlon Brando or something because I know those that know me and love me will remember me for the rest of their existence and so on and so forth. And when I juxtapose that with the fact that this planet will surely be destroyed someday, well...I sleep a little bit easier. You know?

Its like- hey brando, why'd you try so hard? The earth is just gonna explode.

But in many wayhs, he didn't try, it just happened. So I am taking the same policy.