Starwood like you mean it.

9.15.06
3:39 PM
I have taken to grinning really hugely whenever I am furious. I feel it adds an element of I-will-tear-your-skin-off-and-eat-it-at-my-leisure to my usual tantrums. Not that I’ve had any today mind you, just something I’ve started doing.

Today I had my most artistic booking ever. After seeing some of David Lynch’s commercials from the 80’s, 90’s and 00’s, I have decided to compare it to them. It was for Starwood Hotels. And when people come to learn about their hotels (?), they will be treated to a video with meaningful images on the screen narrated (after a fashion) by me. The text consisted of about 130 words and phrases (mostly words) that interact somehow with the images, either contrasting them, juxtaposing them, expanding upon their meaning etc. It was very serious and the people involved really liked the quality of my voice. And these aren’t the slick voiceover people I have had dealings with in the past, these guys all looked like museum curators and we all know that neither museum curators nor people that resemble museum curators lie. Not to voice actors at least. I’ve known a museum curator or three that lies to the occasional anthropologist or archeologist. I should have a copy in about a month as they have yet to finish every aspect of it. They mentioned that my voice might be intercut with other talents (women) doing the same VO.

Meanwhile, the new Scissor Sisters has leaked and, although it doesn’t have as many instant favorites as their first album, I think it’s very solid and will grow on me like gay fungus from the 70’s. There is one track that will most likely find its way into the next MET for Sex.

Speaking of which, the next MET for Sex will probably take place after November first, so as to give Will a chance to see it done right. The first one was fucked up by Asians and queens respectively.
I might gather a peoples to see Jackass 2 this weekend and just let my mind float away.
I have started reading “Good Omens” by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. So far it’s excellent.
What is NOT excellent is the fact that “My Humps” and L’il Jon exist in this world. I heard “My Humps” for the first time a few minutes ago on the phone with Will. The song itself is terrible and nauseating enough, but the fact that it reached number three on U.S. AND fucking U.K. charts makes me hate SO many people.
As for L’il Jon? Shit, fucking look at this retard. He’s like an aborted Rick James fetus. All he adds to the songs he works on is discomfort and yelling. It’s like listening to a song while a shrieking proctologist goes prospecting. The good news is, if he really is as stupid as he looks and sounds (and if he isn’t, give this motherfucker an award), then he should be dead and forgotten by 2008. It will probably go on the death certificate as heart failure or something, but we’ll all know he just forgot to breathe or something. Maybe he’ll drown in the shower. Or maybe he’ll just burst into flames in a rare occurrence of cosmic reparation.
It’s been a long week.
And now it is over.

9:35 PM
From “Good Omens”: (He was) gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide.