This Onion Makes You Cry HAPPY Tears!!!

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2.27.09

9:44pm

So, if you can believe this, every Thursday I have a ritual:

I walk down to 85th and Lexington and pick up a copy of the Onion.

I then read it when I get back to work.

I always have a blank e-mail open, addressed to myself in case something catches my interest.

This week, there is a new feature entitled "Gateways to Geekery" and while some of it didn't float my boat (The French New Wave) and some of it was trying to float a boat that was already floating (British Sitcoms), one entry just ran right up my gangplank.

Hard.

And that runner was Glam Rock.

Personally, I've never given too much of a shit about it, but the entry said that Ziggy Stardust was a good gateway.

I love Ziggy Stardust so it stands to reason that if any of the other stuff was like Ziggy Stardust there's a fair chance that I might enjoy that as well.

Plus, it's always good to get into new (for me anyway) music.

Mostly for myself, but also so I can spare my friends from having to hear me babble on and on about the same six bands (more so than I already do).

After Ziggy they recommended Roxy Music's self titled album, The Slider by T. Rex and Brian Eno's Here Come The Warm Jets (which is a wonderfully sinister title).

Now, I know Eno from his work with Bowie on Low and later 1. Outside and I'd heard of both Roxy Music and T. Rex (mostly from Chris), but I'd never (knowingly) heard any of their own stuff, so off to the Internets I frisked!

Thus far I have only listened to the first half of Roxy Music, but I am digging the hell out of it.

Something about the overwrought sense of drama appeals to me...for some reason...

I listened to one track from T. Rex (Metal Guru) and that also seems good, but I haven't even scratched the membrane of the surface.

Along with these I picked up The Lonely Island's Incredibad, which is the guys who do "Dick In A Box","Jizz In My Pants", "Natalie's Rap" and all the other stuff that is keeping SNL afloat these days.

Some funny goddamn shit on there as well.

I recommend "Normal Guy (Interlude)".

Also, and this makes me feel like a bit of a scumbag (I'm certain Kaitlyn would support this feeling), I grabbed the War Child Present Heroes charity album.

Okay, the worst part, worse than me basically stealing a charity album supporting children displaced by war, is that it isn't very good.

The idea is big, famous bands choose a band they like/respect to do a cover of one of their songs.

So there's Peaches doing "Search & Destroy" by Iggy Pop, Scissor Sisters doing "Do The Strand" by Roxy Music, TV On The Radio doing "Heroes" by Bowie and other stuff along those lines.

And none of them are great!

Some are good, but NONE are great.

I feel bad for these kids.

Well...worse.

Just finished watching the first season of Flight of the Conchords.

I didn't really dig it at first, but the show grew on me.

And some of those Musical Moments are achingly funny.

I'M NOW GOING TO ILLEGALLY DOWNLOAD THE SECOND SEASON FROM OFF THE INTERNET.

Take that, HBO.

Needed to reshape my Netflix.

In the last delivery, I received, along with the second disc of FOTC and the remake of The Fly (really excellent, but something about Geena Davis...WAY too many teeth), The Seven Samurai.

That was in the first 20 or so movies I added to my queue three years ago.

So now:

Weeds

Big Love

Peep Show

and....some other series. 

I'm finding cable less amazing than I would have hoped.

That's probably my fault though.

I'm writing a semi-serious Lovecraft short story at Phil's urgings.

I figured, if he's a good writer, maybe he can make me a good writer by telling me what to write.

Just kidding.

I'm a great writer.

And a devil in the sack.

Not very tall though.

Diminutive.

Miniscule.

Tiny.

Dot.

I'M KIDDING AGAIN!

I'M VERY TALL!!!!

Also,Tumblr.

Or Tumbler.

Or whatever it's called.

It's YET ANOTHER PLACE TO POST A BLOG.

And, even though I hate hate hate when this happens, I may have to join it.

Not that anyone reads these.

Or not for very long anyway.

"What's he...what?! What the fuck is his deal?!"

CLICK

*sigh*

No one can handle my Truth.

Buncha weak vessels is all.

Stoked about the gifts I've made for Danielle for her Birthday.

On a scale of "1" to "10", I'd say they're "fucking amazing".

Just being honest.

"Head's up kittens, everything is bad
It's gettin' dark now, and it's the best dark I ever had"

That was on me today.

Not sure why.

Reading it.

At the moment:

Finished Cloud Atlas.

Really excellent book.

The stories inside twine together wonderfully in a way I've not seen before, either because I only read Bazooka Joe comic strips or because he's good at what he does.

I recommend it for people who like reading books.

Then I picked up Why We Suck (which was lovingly provided by one Danielle N. Stockley for mine Birthday) by Denis Leary.

Quite frankly, I was more impressed with his bile and vitriol and acid tongue when I was in 8th grade.

Not to say I'm not enjoying it, but I have to be in the mood.

Also, a book that warns you how offensive it is and guarantees that you're going to laugh "...a lot", really has to work harder than a book that's just, you know, funny.

It's that kind of posturing that makes my eye roll.

Like pep rallies or high school football.

I'd rather watch Rescue Me.

While I was darting in and out of the irascible miasma that is Why We Suck, I also picked up Snow Crash because I'd heard so much about this Neal Stephenson character, I wanted to see if he was worth it.

Oh my goodness is he.

Phil told me that I would freak out when I realized just how ahead of its time this book was and, misreading the copyright page, I did,totally, thinking that it had been written in the late 70's.

Turns out that was the date the cover image had been painted.

But, for this book to have been written in 1992 is right up there with Neuromancer and whenever that was written.

Overall, a great book, except for the PAINFULLY long library research/background information scenes.

It takes a great author to do crazy research and then pass the information subtly to the reader and that just was not the case in this book.

Whole chapters were cut and paste (or so it seems) from Stephenson's notes with the occasional "Go on", Hiro said, thrown in.

I don't care if it DID take place in some cool virtual library with a snarky hologram, it was goddamn boring and thicker than bad fudge.

But fucking Raven was the DEFINITION of badass.

Glass knives indeed.

Anyway, I just finished that yesterday and thought the ending was a bit abrupt.

I didn't need three more chapters, but maybe one.

Whatever the case, for a first book, it was tight like a duck on a drum.

Just yesterday I embarked upon Joel Lane's The Lost District, yet another literary boon from the Good Doctor Swarth.

I've just read the first three stories thus far, but I can tell this is going to be a cold and desolate ride.

Lane's settings are so bleak and monochrome that you can feel the tired, gray air emanating from these stories (I shouldn't really even call them stories; more like scenes form a worn down, broken world where things happen, sometimes, but never good things) and the rust under your fingertips as you turn the page.

Some of it actually evokes Cormac McCarthy (Blood Meridian and No Country For Old Men more so than The Road), but instead of the dry, scouring heat of the desert, it's the damp, dull chill of these nameless little towns and villages and districts in Britain.

Very lonely, cold stuff.

After this, one Miss Jessica Wade has provided me with The Tesseract by Alex Garland, which, if I remember correctly, is a final boss in Doom II, and, although she "can't remember anything about the book except that it's excellent and the writer is hot", I am very excited.

When book people give you books, ninety nine times out of a hundred, it's going to be the bee's knees: covered in cloying clumps of pollen.

I may also have two or three other things to be excited about coming up, but who the fuck knows until they're already over and done with?

"Not I" said the guy typing in the dark.

Not I.

Nonagon.

2.25.09

9:25pm

First off, today marks the ninth anniversary of my tenure as Happiest Man in the World.

I could be in for another nine, and then, possibly, another.

Check back in 2018 and then again 2027.

So, here's where other people in relationships aren't as cool as me and Chris: first off, they run out of stuff to do and say.

That sucks.

For them.

Secondly, one or the other or both is/are usually unable or unwilling or just afraid to express one's true feelings about one thing or another, and that leads to all typesa shit getting built up silently until one day just popping like a relationship pimple all over the rigid, tense facade and that leads to yelling and biting and punches in bunches, not hugs and pugs.

This doesn't happen in the Ball Pit of Love (that's what I call our relationship) where I've been thrashing about in ecstasy for almost the past ten years.

Thirdly, my chick is SO GODDAMN COOL!

Check this out: guy tells his girlfriend that this other chick is good looking.

Regular relationship: at best, an icy silence pervades the room; at worst, knife meets eye, blood blood blood, you'll never look at another girl again, cry cry cry.

MY gold encrusted platinum relationship: We talk together about how hot she is and how we can invite her over, drug her and have our way (together, as a couple...of rapists) with her.

Not really, but she actually encourages me not to repress my natural, human emotions!!!!

Take that, world at large!!

She's totally a super self realized woman BUT is still happy to snuggle!!

And she can cook, like, awesome food!

That's healthy!!

HEALTHY!!

And we have SO many nauseatingly cute little foibles and in jokes and whatnot that we make the Teletubbies romping with puppies look like an episode of Oz. 

One with graphic ass rape.

Honestly, this is moot.

There's no way I could explain how lucky I am or how perfect we be or how just fucking cool we are in words.

Just...be really jealous.

Don't try to comprehend the love we share, just...stagger at the sheer FORCE of it.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY NOUF!!!!!

WOOOOO!!!!

I Am Waiting For A Bus

1.29.09

7:38pm

I have had a headache for over a week.

It comes and goes, but always, it is there...eating my brain like the Conqueror Worm.

I wish it was a tumor so I could just kill myself and get it over with.

Orgasms and generic ibuprofen seem to stave it off for a while though, so.

Next.

I have been seeing these new Pepsi ads that contain the new logo.

I'd like to repeat here some of the slogans without the eye-catching and very expensive graphic design that usually accompanies them:

"Sooooooweet"

"pop pop pop"

and

"Yo"

I enjoy that the first one kind of sounds like a pig call.

Someone was given a fucktoin of money to "design" these.

Fuck you and give me some.

Finally (FINALLY) had a really great moment today.

Last night, I found out about a Battleship audition today (they are re-re-reinventing the classic plastic-pegs-in-plastic-boats game) for which they were looking for a Don LaFontaine movie trailer voice.

In case you don't know who that is...well, you obviously haven't been watching TV, movies or listening to the radio for the last fifty years.

In a nutshell, he's the guy that people are imitating when they start off a faux movie trailer by saying "in a world..."

He was one of the highest paid actors (let alone voice actors) in the world and now he's dead.

Today, I was told that I sounded just like him in the audition and that I should have a future in his area.

That, is the coolest thing anyone in the business has ever said to me.

Now if only Milton Bradley will agree with this producer and give me summa dat CHEEEEZ.

Seeing They Might Be Giants on Saturday (Jess' first TMBG concert!) and Michael Ian Black on Sunday.

And I will drink my weight in blood...I swear it...

Out.

Batman Vs. X-Men Vs. The Terrible Smell Permeating The Upper East SideVs. Misc. Etc

1.21.09

3:13 pm

Couple.

Of things.

First, got cable installed by a surly and world weary dude this morning.

Immediately wondered why.

Flipped through the assorted 350+ channels and continued to wonder why.

Got the COMPLETE Batman: The Animated Series for my Birthday.

17 discs.

109 episodes.

I've probably seen 100 of them more than three times, but goddamn it that a solid show.

I watched the first episode (with the original voice actor for Alfred...who sucked) and the nostalgia was sweet like some sweet thing I used to enjoy while watching the show.

1992.

Wow.

I have also, recently, been watching the X-Men animated series which was on around that time, but on Saturday mornings as opposed to weekday afternoons.

The X-Men show has NOT held up but the Batman show is still freaking tight as a turtle.

I think it has everything to do with the stylization of Batman.

The show doesn't feel dated because it's always in the 40's (the 40's without robots and lasers and stuff).

Also, the first Batman episode just jumps right in, no lengthy, heavy-handed introductions, whereas the X-Men show ran over and over the fact that they are mutants and hated and Rogue can't touch people and Wolverine is REALLY angry and Jean Grey can't do ANYTHING without fainting and Professor X is an asshole because he's always sending Storm into situations where her claustrophobia will cripple her and endanger the rest of the team and Gambit wants to FUCK, NOW and no one ever uses their powers to their full extent and blah blah blah.

I do enjoy the sheer volume of X-Men and random Marvel characters they'll just toss in though.  There's a cameo from Nick Fury and War Machine for Christ' sake.  That's always fun for a fan to be like, "I have seen that character in comic books!" or some other equally powerful declaration.

In fact, I actually had a dream relating to the X-Men last night... it was some sort of new animated series...all I really remember is Gambit using dice at one point and Cyclops blasting the shit out of Sinister.

There was a HUGE fight.

Pretty cool.

Quite frankly, I'm more excited about Batman than cable.

THE TELEVISION SERVICE, NOT THE MYSTERIOUS TIME TRAVELING MUTANT!!!

HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

I can see how you might have made that mistake.

Changing gears RATHER quickly (keep up children...), I watched The Boondock Saints a few nights ago for the first time in years.

That is quite a bad movie.

I mean, it's great for what it is, a massive-cock-action movie, but every moment of it tries waaay too hard to be genuine.

I'm wondering if the sequel is going to be gently mocking the original and actually strive to be a good movie, or if they are going to just try to out-cock themselves.

Apparently the writer and director (Troy "How Irish Can I Get?!" Duffy) burned all his bridges by being a douche.

As long as Willem Dafoe makes out with another gangster, I'm down.

*SHUDDER*

Next, right outside the Hospital today, I saw a snowball fight turn into a fist fight within a matter of seconds.

Jesus loves the little chiiiildren.

But I don't.

If only they exploded on impact.

That would be awesome.

POP

SPOOT

And finally, Will, I want a Google X-Prize awarded for tracking, cataloguing and eliminating the homeless/vomit/garbage smell permeating the Upper East Side.

It's like the diametric opposite of the lovely syrup smell that occasionally engulfs the city as if we are some huge, dirty pancake covered in angry, polyglot ants.

Finally for real, I have been listening to the New Pornographers today.

Their hopeless and peppy melancholy fits my woke-up-too-early-for-Mr.-Surly-the-Cable-Man mind state.

And "Stacked Crooked" might be my favorite NP song.

Think that might be it...you lucky frog you...

Chupa chupa.

1.20.09

9:20 pm

Ah, sweet, succulent resolution.

Like pulled pork for the soul.

Not really, I'm just passing this whole shit burger into someone else' hands...GOD'S.

Let go and let god.

Man that is freaky.

Like, I picture some crazy Southern Baptist mother with a car full of screaming children just taking her pudgy,  fish-belly white hands off the wheel, rolling her eyes skyward and muttering that under her breath while the car goes through the guard rail and into the ravine or river or some other geological formation starting with an 'r'.

Is a river a geological formation?

Is you is or is you ain't my baby?

And are these two gentlemen in the security office real human beings or just doing impressions of African American stereotypes from the 1920's?

I'll never ask.

SO glad I can't materialize weapons with a thought.

And speaking of materializing whatever it was I just said, tomorrow, I'm getting cable.

350+ channels, 14 of which I'll actually watch.

Welcome to the future.

Oh, also found out a little more info about my Burger King radio thing.

Apparently it is playing in two "major markets" (or so they are called on the paperwork) called Albuquerque and Flint.

Now, I have NO clue what that means, but I certainly hope this fucking thing is playing in more than just TWO cities in the fucking country.

And why Michigan and New Mexico?

My hopes are that those are the names of regions, rather than actual cities.

I also learned that They Who Program Commercials have the ability to play this one until August 2010.

And finally, I am indeed getting residuals.

In other words: cha-CHING.

Hopefully.

If my voice ends up giving children seizures or something maybe less cha-CHING than get that horrible man of the radio right this instant.

But,we'll see.

I have just eaten a burger and now I will continue reading Cloud Atlas.

One final thing, Will and Lady have set a date.

Come December 31st, 2009, I will be in another country.

AGAIN.

Holy fucking shit.

Woo hoo, Will and Lady, woo hoo, I say.

Some say it was a warning...

1.16.09

11:29am

First things first...yesterday on the train, I saw a little old Asian woman eat an entire apple in about 12 seconds.

I have no real feelings about this, but it was just impressive.

There was a slight hint of desperation under the efficient fervor though, as if someone were going to get on at the next stop and eat the apples of everyone who had them.

Or something else along those lines.

Along the lines of MTA Apple Police.

I then thought that the scene, a wizened Asian woman furiously devouring an apple, was a great symbol of something.

I don't know what though.

Maybe the Asian populace taking over New York City, but, as far as I know, that hasn't happened.

I am ill informed on such matters.

Very much so.

And I'm enjoying the cold.

I get to use ALL my big fluffy blankets with impunity.

With immunity from impunity, if you will.

I like the cold better than the hot anyway.

No matter how cold it gets, there is always a certain number of clothing, blankets, sweaters etc. that you can wrap yourself in to make yourself warm enough, but if it's too hot? You, my friend, are shut out of lick.

Also, I hate sweating unless I'm scrumping.

Hate it hate it hate it.

Sweating, not scrumping.

I like scrumping.

A lot.

Just finished reading Trainspotting.

When I first saw the movie waaaay back when, not only did I not understand two thirds of what was being said, but I didn't get why things were happening or why they were funny/emotional etc. except for the really obvious stuff (he pooped......IN THE BED!!!!).

A few months ago, I watched the movie again and understood the whole thing...except for a lot of the actual language. 

The intentions were clear just like they were clear in The Universal Language, but that accent?  Yeesh. 

So, in the book, the writer, Irvine Welsh, WRITES with the accent a lot of the time.

At first it was hilariously overwhelming, but then I got into it and just rolled with it.

The glossary at the end helped too although that was more for terms rather than normal words.

Those I had to sound out and it was fun.

Like learning to read again.

The effect was quite the opposite of finishing a Harry Potter book.

Whereas after Harry Potter and the Prancing Pumpkins or whatever, it's as if any book that isn't on the same literary level or lower is hard to read.

Not hard, but...well, sticky.

After Trainspotting though, everything seems TOO easy.

I like my brain and its sexy nooks and crannies.

Surprised to find that there is actually very little trainspotting done in the movie.

Surprised and disappointed.

Now I am reading Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell because both Phil and his uncle Martin raved about it over the holidays.

Glow sticks and all.

Digging it xmax so far.

Also picked up Snow Crash by this Neal Stevenson character I keep hearing people cream over.

I tried to read the Denis Leary book, but it's just not that funny.

It's way too obvious and just obnoxious for the sake of being obnoxious.

In the introduction he even says you're gonna be offended and you're gonna laugh...a lot.

Way to believe your own hype.

I think the last time I was offended by anything was an episode of South Park.

They consistent offend me and therefore make me laugh.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the hell out of Denis Leary, but I suppose his stand up/comedy stuff has lost its edge since No Cure For Cancer.

I do love me some Rescue Me though.

Mucho.

Let's get the shiny people over here and the happy people over here.

I want two lines.

Speaking of two lines...I made my Birthday playlist yesterday during a lull at work.

Ha.

Yes, during that one lull...

"White Lines" is on it.

I'm pensive about this party.

No, not true.

I'm pensive about how certain people will react and behave around each other.

Why can't we all just get along with that which Paul wants?

Less of a WWPD?

More of a WWPWMTDFH, What Would Paul Want Me To Do.For Him

Is that selfish?

Ah ah ah...remember...WWPWMTDFH...

There we go.

Seriously though, I passed out once from drinking when I did that tequila thing and it was like time travel.

I boaked, fitted myself into the bathroom corner and then BLINK B.J. was waking me up some time later to bring me home.

All in all not a bad experience.

But again, how often to people REALLY completely forget things?

Pale, pale excuse.

But, what does that indicate?

Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts.

Planning on rejoining the Club because I miss swimming.

In a clean pool.

With naked, wrinkly old men.

*SHUDDER*

Birthday Birthday Borthday.

My son is also named Bort.

Say what you will about Dunking Doughknots, but when they make (microwave) that sausage, egg and cheese on a croissant right it's fucking magic.

The indigestion is also magic.

Like a burning leprechaun dancing up and down the length of my esophagus.

Burny O'Toole.

Stompy McPain

Ouchy McFuckoff

The Prince Thing went rather well I thought.

Got to know Emily a bit better.

Got to spend some time with Kaitlyn and Christina Nongirlfriend.

Reminded of why I'm friends with them.

Still haven't seen Graffiti Bridge.

Not sure I want to.

1990 was a weird year for Prince and I don't think I know any of his shit from those years.

Lauren got me a HUGE Prince thing for Xmas/Berfday and in it there's a rare, live Prince CD.

Of the 20 or so tracks, I know about three.

I'm not a big Prince fan, but I'm a big fan of Prince, n'est pas?

Oh this shift has its ups and downs.

The ups correlate with the times when Mungo is not in the fucking office talking.

The downs correlate, strangely, when she is flapping her MASSIVE gums.

Oh to be Prince Caspian, afloat upon the waves.

She just left, and now I'm enjoying an up.

Woot.

And as far as ups go, I found out that the switchboard might be "up" shit creek without a paddle for OVER A YEAR.

Gaw bless us, evvy un.

I believe I'm through.

Some say it was a sign...

Tepid and Viscous, I Remit...

12.9.08
8:18 pm

First:

Episode TWO of the Diesel Dance Party (in which I command the dancers) has just been put up on http://www.diesel.com/.

It looks as if they are going to put up one episode per week of this six episode psychodrama.

If you want to know the definition of "fear" and "sex", you need look no further than the Diesel Dance Party, for I embody BOTH while remaining disembodied.

Only I could achieve this momentous, paradoxical feat.

Second:

I defeated BOTH the Cockmasters here at my job AND in the Nokia/AT&T Machine today.

At the job, I found a way to silence the everfucking beeping that goes on in the shitty, nonfunctioning Fire System (that, ironically, wouldn't be able to tell if the System Itself was on fire) once and for all.

But the best part is, if I want to return it to its normal (read "broken") state, I can do so with the push of a button.

Fuck you, infernal beeping!

As for the Nokia/AT&T slutbags, I found a way to send ANY SOUND FILE I WANT to my new phone, regardless of whether or not it was purchased from AT&T.

Yes, I have a NEW cell phone.

It has a camera on it.

Ah. Ah ha. Ah hahahahahahahahahaha.

Prepare for penis.

At least, moreso than usual.

Third:

I am sick.

Sick sick sick sicky sick sick.

And I blame you.

Fourth:

I have nothing to go here.

Oh wait, yes I do.

So, you've seen/heard of 2 Girls, 1 Cup (and if you haven't, feel blessed)

I was recently sent something that some might consider far worse, although personally, it wasn't as disturbing to me as 2G, 1C.

Elements of it were but...

If features a man...hm...you know...this isn't something that can be just talked about or described.

You need to see it.

This is not safe for work unless you work in Hell and even then, only if your supervisor has a sense of humor.

Finally:

I am watching a British show called Skins at the moment.

It is excellent and I recommend it.

I am also giving the new Guns 'N' Roses a more thorough listen.

Look, I was a huge fan back in the day and it took 14 years to finish, I'm going to give it more than one fucking listen.

Still at the top of my Secret Santa Joke Gift List.

Even if it IS only available as a physical release from Best Buy.

Think that may be it.

Do your Thing...lest it does You...

The new Guns 'N' Roses album...

...is not very good.

In fact, it's quite bad.

It's bad for a continuation to Use Your Illusion I and II.

It's bad for a straight up Guns 'N' Roses album.

It's bad for a straight up album.

It sounds like the year 2000 or maybe 2002.

The only surprises on it are just how bad and overwrought Axl Rose sounds.

If you are a fan of Guns N Roses, re-listen to the earlier albums and pretend this never happened.

I read a huge review in a recent Onion that gave it an A- and compared it to a unicorn amongst horses ("should we compare its beauty to that of an average horse or simply marvel at the fact that it even exists?").

I then found out that the "special guest reviewer" was a huge GNR fanboy.

It would be like asking me to objectively review a new Nine Inch Nails album.

Not possible.

To be fair though, both this reviewer and Axl Rose say you have to listen to it several times to really "get it".

Thing is: I get it.

It is sucky.

It represents fourteen years of effort and it's terrible.

That is SO depressing.

Anyway, it is my top Secret Santa Joke Gift Item this year.

So, if you and I are somehow in a Secret Santa together, and I get your name, you know what you're getting.

But you have NO IDEA what you're getting into...

Meanwhile, the first episode of the Diesel Dance Party is now online at http://www.diesel.com/.

I am only in the first episode as "the guy putting hoods on people" (you REALLY need to see this) but I'm all over the next five (that's six episodes total, friends) as "The Voice of God" or "The Dance Commander".

I made up that second one, but, believe me, it applies like mascara, bitch.

And, yet no one reads this, I continue...

ATTENTION, PLEASE

10.21.08
10:17pm

Just wanted to take a moment to let you know that BRITNEY SPEARS' new music video "Womanizer" is HOT.

BRITNEY SPEARS is a SEX SYMBOL.

And her career is on the UPSWING.

She now owes me $17.

Also, cookies: never too old to enjoy them.

Next, after about 8 months, I have finally finished my radio demo with Bill and it is pure diamond, absolutely flawless.

It's perfect and I have not been prouder in recent memory.

Now if only I can get the right person to hear it...

Consumption:

I just finished the first Dexter book and Christina was right, the show is better.

I am about to start The Anatomy Lesson by John David Morley which is, according to Jess, amazing.

I am trying NOT to watch any more downloaded episodes of "The Shield" until the whole final season is up but goldurn it that's proving tough.

Ray has pointed me in the direction of "Superjail!" which I have watched all of (thus far).  It is pleasantly shocking and stars David Wain.

I saw "Blindness" this weekend and think that The Onion giving it a C+ or whatever was WAY unfair, the movie was excellent and fucking harsh.

I'm playing "Dead Space" on my own and loving it and playing "Silent Hill: Homecoming " with Danielle and also loving it.

Aside from the upcoming Halloween Movie Night thing, I'm planning a Bond Marathon (or mini marathon depending on who gets in on it) which will culminate with a showing of "Casino Royale" (2006 version) before heading out to see "Quantum of Solace".

This has been SO uninteresting.

Thank you.

I Am The Motherfucking Dance Commander

Yesterday, I said some things to some people that I would not have normally said.

"Have sex with the air."

"Wrestle with each others butts."

"Get international."

But...I was God.

And they did as they were told.

For fear of...reprisals.

Those reprisals were also meted out by my hand.

Yesterday...was weird.

Go to http://www.diesel.com/, and wait for my Presence.

P.S. I heard "Hangin' Tough" on the radio today.

This is going to be a long, cold winter.

I Rock. Band. 2.

If you'll be so kind as to head over to www.mtv2.com and click on the "Sharts" section, you'll find a listing for something called "Pure Evil On The Red Carpet".
That's me.
Enjoy.

I also posted some pictures from the shoot on my My Space photo page.
Also enjoy.

P.S. AND in the "Best Created Character" clip you can see the character based on me, Newton.

Couchthulhu

I must write in haste, for I believe it knows where I am...

Oh how I yearn for simpler, less deadly times!

Alas and alack!

But I digress...

Just this morning, there was a sound of rapping at the door to my domicile.

When I opened the door, I saw no living thing but a comfortable, loden green couch.

How foolish I was!

I took it in as if it were a boon from the Gods themselves!

And perhaps it was...but from which sinister Gods I know not!

They say never to look a gift horse in the mouth and I have always upheld that adage...until now!

For one might not know their gift horse's mouth contains the gateway to Hell itself!

Ah, but again I digress!

Please forgive me, for my very soul has been chilled!

Upon replacing my old, trustworthy couch with this sleek, new abomination, I began to notice slight changes in my home...

Walls seems closer, the ceiling, lower and the sunlight, less brilliant on my varnished wooden floors...

It was as if some maligned force was affecting the very place I called my own!

If only my mind had been more quick to act!

But now I suffer the consequence of lethargy...

I ignored the communiqués from every nerve in my body and succumbed to the drowsiness that stole over me.

I lay on the new couch to close my eyes for a moment and regain my strength that I had, up to a few moments before, been instilled with.

I awoke with a start from a horrible dream of drowning or being swallowed alive to find that, indeed, it had been no dream!

I looked down at myself and saw with horror and revulsion that this demon spawn had separated me from my right leg at the thigh!

It was alive!

It was hungry!

I made my way from the parlor to my study and locked the door to write this, which will certainly be my last communication with the world of the living!

Such a fool I was!

I came here to this accursed place to find out what had happened to my father and his father before him!

Now I know all too well!

Stupid stupid stupid!

Devoured by a couch?

How utterly inane!

how vainglorious!

How fucking goddamn dumb!

Fuck! FUCK!!

Wait...what was that noise?

Oh dear shit!!

It's...somehow it's...EATING THROUGH THE DOOR!!

As I write this it's slowly moving towards me!

If only I could stop describing the events befalling me and simple exit through the window which would lead me to safety!

But alas, I must recount every last terrible detail!

Why did I not actually read the bloodstained diaries of my father and grandfather?

What could I have been thinking taking residence here at Evil Couch Manor?

How was I to know it wasn't just a silly name like

Oh no!

While lost in reverie, the abomination has drawn even closer!

I might only have a few paragraphs to live!!

How slow it moves!

How inexorable yet slow.

So slow!

If only I could just stand up and leave!

The window is right there!

Seriously!

But I must leave this for MY son to find...

Wait.

Hm.

I am not married.

Well, that changes things a bit.

I don't even think I've made love to a woman ever...

Let me see...

There was that costume party a few months ago at Cecil's summer home in Normandy but...no...that was just a blowjob...hm...women can't catch preg from that can they?

Ah!

If only I had read the bloodstained volumes regarding human sexuality and basic anatomy!

Fool!

Fool that I am!

Or was in a few minutes' time when this demon consumes me whole!

Alas and alack!

Alack and alas!

Alas— oh, a penny!

Syphilis Road

or St. Fuckeyes Cathedral!

Revelation 7:23

I just pet a priest's wiener dog.

Should I go to confession?

nullity

9.9.08
8:03pm

Just finished Bret Easton Ellis' Less Than Zero.

I totally want to move to L.A.

And kill myself there.

Give me his non-relative-with-the-same-last-name Warren any day.

Yeech.

What I Did Today

Today, for the first time since the time Phil and I went to see Will in D.C. and I won* the Big Lebowski Drinking Game, I had five guys in my mouth.

And it was heaven.

Jess tried her best but could only have a widdle 'cuz her widdle tum tum was toooooo widdle!!!

You should have seen her with her grown up soda though.

Scrabbling at it with her widdle paws...

Too cute.

Xmax.

Danielle abstained from lunch because she gambled with the Rainbow and lost.

Also xmax.

Then I went home to nap (which is a delightful practice, I understand why babies are always laughing) and was woken up by the sound of future disappointment, or, to be fair and slightly optimistic, potential future disappointment.

But then again, what doesn't fall into that category?

After that, I woke and went to work.

Ah work.

So quiet.

And I am now in the midst of the final story in Neil Gaiman's Fragile Things.

A book you should read, unless you are an asshole.

If you are an asshole...well, I why am I even addressing you?

Asshole.

Think that's all.

Be brave.

Be tigers.

*Although no one really wins the BLDG

summation

Julian Cope

Pancake Lizard

The S-Word

Boiling Seas of Blood

Sweating

Mr. Xcitement

Cunning Stunts

137%?

So.
I'm watching 'Strangers With Candy' for the first time thanks to Christina Nongirlfriend.
My cousin Stephanie worked on the show back in 2000 as assistant somethingorother.
I IMDBed her and, along with her name, mine popped up as well, from 'Binding Silence'.
Although I knew I was up there, I never really looked at the entry.
Nothing much except for info on the film.
Under the entry, however, I was informed that my "STARmeter" is up 137% since last week.
Whatever you're doing folks, keep doing it.

TMBG in SEPT (and OCT)

Just saw in today's Onion that They Might Be Giants are playing in September and October at a place called Le Poisson Rouge at 158 Bleeker (twixt Bleeker and Thompson).

I just got my ticket for the September show, Saturday the 27th with Les Chauds Lapins (the Hot Bunnies) at 7:30.

Tickets are $25 (with a $1.65 service charge.

They have another show on Saturday, October 25 for $26 with no opener announced yet.

Anyone interested?

Call 800 838 3006.

Tuesday: Better Than Monday

Today. Has. Been. Awesome.

Last evening I am informed of an audition this morning at 10:20am (an unheard of time for me to be awake) at House Productions for something I might not be able to talk about yet and based on my experience with the Sci Fi Network, I'm going to err on the side of not getting yelled at by a major name in the industry.

Suffice to say that I was supposed to look as attractive and model-y as possible based on the name of the company.

So, I walk out the door, as hot as lava in summer (thanks 90% to my little nouf and 10% to my Super Fuckability) and stroll into my audition.

I soon noticed something was amiss.

At the sign in sheet for an on screen audition there is usually a script and maybe a breakdown of the project or storyboards or something else.

Today, there was a sheet that read:

PREPARATION

Do not talk to anyone in the waiting area.

Please take this as serious as possible.

You are in the underground and have been for a long time.

You have been out of the modern world for some time.

You only exist as you appear on the screen.

Always be as sincere as possible.

You often refer to yourself as "WE".

To understate: I was intrigued.

After filling out my info and getting my snap, one of the awesome chicks at House says that we're taking a trip to wardrobe.

In there, I meet Andreas who puts a cloak and mask on me.

Yes, a cloak and a mask.

I then sit, silently, out in the waiting area, not talking to anyone, getting into this character as much as I can.

I am having fun despite the heavy cloak, black satin mask and the stares I am getting...or maybe because of it?

From the audition space, I hear a blaring, discordant siren go off, once, twice.

Soon after, I hear someone playing a tambourine, badly.

And after that, the small of burning toast.

To understate: I was excited.

Then,. after about 20 minutes hunched on a bench, not talking, not looking at anyone, my name is called.

I walk into the room and it's set up like most on screen audition spaces, flat screen monitor, lights, camera, prompt boards, bounce boards etc.

There are a few people that are having a mumbled discussion about me.

They remove my mask, ask to see me without my glasses and them decide they like them.

As do I.

I go to my mark and am told to answer as seriously and sincerely as possible.

I am then "interviewed" by a distorted voice over a bullhorn.

"What is your name?"

"How long have you been here?"

"What is your favorite color?"

""Tell us about your mother."

"Tell us about your childhood."

"What is your star sign?"

"What is your lucky number?"

"Have you been treated well here?"

"Are you efficient?"

"Do you like children?"

"Have you ever been on television?"

"Take off your shoes."

"What else have you done?"

"What is your favorite?"

I'm missing some, but you get the gist.

Or most likely you don't.

It was weird, but exhilarating.

Especially when I'm usually talking about HOW GREAT OPTIMUM ONLINE IS.

Anyhoo, then they have me read from the board some phrases that seem to tie in with the project.

I won't go into them verbatim, but they were ominous.

Then they blindfolded me and gave me some objects to hold.

One was a telephone, the other was glass, that's all I know.

Finally, they said thank you, but before I could go, the director asked me to tell a joke, in the fashion I had been instructed to deliver everything thus far.

So I told the one about the man who was not enjoying sex with a prostitute until she...did something.

If you don't know it, then you aren't as close to me as you think.

I warned them it was a doozy.

So, I tell the joke, pause a moment after the punch line and then grin.

"Pretty foul, huh?"

They laugh and then thank me and applaud.

I returned my cloak to Andreas and left.

I'll let you know if anything comes from this when I'm able, but just know that this has been one of the most fun acting experiences of my life.

THIS is why I'm an actor.