April 2013
7 posts
I'M GUILTY...OF SERIOUSLY WASTING MY TIME ON THE...
After a long day of toil and trouble, there are those who unwind by putting their tired feet up on the divan and relaxing with maybe a small glass of wine or perhaps a beer. There are those who like to put their head back, close their eyes and chill out to some fine, mellow music. There are even those who enjoy lounging with a nice, fun game of Words With Friends.
But me? I like to watch...
"Oh, For The RIGHT Reason!"
SPANK • PADDLE • P&P (crossed out)
IN THE RIGHT WAY 4
THE RIGHT REASON
TAKE USERS(S) CONSENT
HOST • MODERATE GROUP
PENALTY EVENT
Yeah. If there’s one thing I’m sick of, it’s getting spanked for the wrong reason. “Hey! What was that for?”
I know what the gist of the stuff on this card means, but I’m so glad I don’t know what all of it means. From the handwriting, I have the feeling...
SINKHOLES SUCK.
There is no more frightening news story than one about a sinkhole.
In Florida, there was a man in his home, on his couch—I’m assuming watching Wheel Of Fortune, I’m assuming covered in Cheetos—who got swallowed up by a sinkhole. Just like that. Gone!
Of all the statistically unlikely ways there are to die, the sinkhole has got to be the most diabolically random, malignantly sinister, cosmically...
AN OPEN LETTER TO BECKETT THE BABY
Hey Beckett. Nice meeting you today. I don’t know if babies can remember back six hours, but I was at a McDonald’s commercial audition with you and your parents today where they asked me to watch you while they went in to read for it. That’s right, Beckett: Your mother and father left you with a childless, forty-three-year-old stranger so they could get work in a commercial. You just received...
"C'MON, JERK! KISS ME!"
“So, the chili cheeseburger. Can I get that without the huge demon tongue emerging inexplicably from its center? That’d be great!”
It’s supposed to be a chili. I guess. But it looks like a tongue. And I can’t see anything else when I look at it. Like this cheeseburger’s going: “Eeeeh! I’m exhausted!” Or: “Shit…I am drunk!” That’s a drunk-ass chili cheeseburger. It’s like it’s...
"THANK YOU," I SAID.
I first wrote about the monstrosity above some years ago. Like a crotchety neighbor with a municipal bone or two to pick, I spoke of the tumor tree ensconced in the middle of this wall like an unyielding knot of disease. Not on one side of the wall; not on the other. But—as you can see—in it. For years. For more years than I’ve been living here. And in so standing there in the midst of...
HIP FLEXION THRUST
You got a list of things to do, errands to run, goals to accomplish, and occasionally you get preoccupied. Occasionally, there’s an urgent call to tend to something that may not be on your list but is still nevertheless urgent: Randomly in the middle of your day, you see two flat surfaces that are some distance apart; you visually gauge the space between these two flat surfaces; and ask...
December 2012
31 posts
RUN AWAY.
Last night after a show, a drunkish woman I didn’t find attractive—armed with the added confidence of her three friends—said to me: “You’re adorable. So, are you into women or men and are you single or what? Do you wanna hang out or what?” I immediately—and I mean immediately—stood up, said: “Nice meeting you, everyone,” and literally ran from the room, from the restaurant, and up the...
"HELLO?"
I hear my neighbor saying “Hello” over and over again. She’s doing it right now. The upstairs one. Just hellos, like a parrot. I hope she’s on the phone trying to communicate with someone, but what if she’s not? What if she’s just sitting there in her apartment going: “Hello? Hello? Hello?” over and over again. To no one.
I just took a brain test on this website. It was one of these...
PLACE YOUR BITS.
At the Silverlake Lounge Open Microphone last night, my friend Amber Kenny and I came up with what could be a fun stand-up comedy game: Whenever someone neither of us recognizes gets on stage, we place bets on what topics we think they’ll talk about. Wagers must be placed after listening to the comic for just ten or fifteen seconds, although the quicker and more impulsively you can make your...
A LITTLE BITCHY
Were I a judge on one of those singing contest shows, I would never wince, turn my head sideways, point to my ear and say: “Little pitchy.” That’s so been done. I’d wince, turn my head sideways, point to my ear and say: “Little bitchy.”
But I would say it as if I had said “Little pitchy,” like barely making that “p” a “b.” And then try to keep saying it during the person’s critique to see how...
THE THE-DUH GAME
Sometimes at home when I’m watching a movie that’s not that great, I’ll grab my guitar and play it for the remainder of the film: just lackadaisically running the pick up and down the strings as the rest of the movie I can’t follow plays itself out. I wish they’d let me do that in a movie theatre. Just bring my guitar and, instead of walking out, start strumming it for the rest of the movie. ...
AN OPEN LETTER TO MY OLD TRASH CAN
Hey. Hey. Trash mouth. Look at me. C’mon. You knew this would one day happen. We’ve had a lot of great years together in the kitchen and uh…look, this is hard for me too, okay? I hate good-byes. You think it’s easy for me to shitcan you like this? Oops. I mean, uh…sorry. I’m feeling there are a lot of trash can puns coming up that I’m gonna accidentally use. (Aw, who am I kidding? ...
MACH 5 CORNHOLE
My sister did it. I asked for my very own cornhole set, and she got me one. (I even think that’s how I phrased it on my list: “My very own cornhole set, please.”) Crazy! Great colors too, right? Red and white! Like the Mach 5. Like Speed Racer. That’s what I said when I opened it! “It’s like the Mach 5!”
At first I didn’t know where in my apartment I would store this thing, but I just...
"SIR, DO YOU KNOW HOW FAST YOU WERE BRUSHING?"
Ever brush your teeth because you got nothing else to do?
Ever find yourself with nothing to do at 2:30 in the afternoon? There is absolutely nothing pressing that requires any bit of your attention whatsoever. You’re even—dare I say—feeling a little bored. And it is deep within that pocket of do-nothingness and sloth where you decide to brush your teeth.
I brush my teeth when I got nothing...
BAREFOOT BUBBLY
Style. That’s all this says to me. Pure style.
“You must be offended by any Champagne that doesn’t come from Champagne, France. Right?” That’s what a lot of people think about me because my last name is Champagne. But the truth is (and here it comes; I so seldom deal in the truth) I couldn’t give a shit about Champagne. (Is it “I couldn’t give a shit about Champagne?” or “I could give a...
TRON PONG
Taking up racquetball. No. I’m gonna do it. I’ve enquired into it, I’ll get the stuff, I’ll find a worthy adversary, and I’ll start playing racquetball. In your face. I’m gonna put you into that wall.
You know what I like best about Tron? Out of all the things I like about Tron? The tennis-like game played by Flynn and the other red program where each of them stand on a large, disc-shaped...
MISSED IT
Last month I started reading this book by Joshua Ferris called Then We Came To The End and talked about this thing I like to do when I start reading a new book which is to flip to about three-quarters of the way through (you know, at least more than halfway), read one paragraph and then start the book from the beginning and then when I get to that paragraph, remember it and go: “Hey! There it...
HURL POWER
What am I supposed to do with this Posh Spice? I’m supposed to collect them all, I think. Great. How much is that gonna run me? I’ve gotta get this thing out of my apartment. Fast.
Got this in a stand-up Christmas gift swap the other night. The present I contributed to the bag was a turd pencil: a pencil with a turd for an eraser. Or a pencil with a turd where the eraser’s supposed to be. ...
AN OPEN LETTER TO TOUTATIS
Sorry, asteroid Toutatis. You look like a kidney stone. You look like something the galactic warlord Xenu shot out of his big galactic dick, ejecting it Earthward at about warp three, sending it tumbling through space like a giant piece of unsmokeable crack.
I know the camera adds ten pounds, so that means your three-mile width is actually appearing to us as—what?—five miles? Not sure how to...
AN OPEN LETTER TO THAT TROMBONE PLAYER AT...
I couldn’t see you at first because you were above me at street level and I was downstairs, so all I could do was listen. The Godfather. I recognized that. From Russia With Love. I recognized that. I didn’t catch any of the other stuff you were playing though. Sorry. Probably another movie theme. I was waiting for Raiders Of The Lost Ark next, but then I had to go put more money in my...
AN OPEN LETTER TO GUY JEAN PHILLIPE
Hey. What’s up?
Someone thinks you live with me. Or someone thinks your address is mine. One or the other. I got a handwritten envelope (already creepy) meant for you but with my address (way creepy). If you’ve been living with me for eight years and I haven’t known it, you’re either (a) an imaginary friend (not exactly unlikely but I know all my imaginary friends and none of them are...
DUTCH MUCH?
I have to do a Dutch accent tomorrow. I’ll probably just sound German. My German accent is terrible. I had to do a German accent last year for an audition. A month later my agent dropped me.
(I wore a kilt for that audition too. I wore a kilt to an audition and then got dropped by my agent. Don’t wear a kilt to an audition. I kept waiting for someone in the waiting room to at least ask me...
KEEP YOUR NON-SHOOTING ARM DOWN.
With the exceptions of the last three, every Bond film starts off with a trademark gun barrel sequence where whoever’s playing Bond walks across the screen from right to left in a white circle, then suddenly turns and shoots the audience, covering the screen in blood. Last night I watched all the Bond gun barrel sequences from 1962 to 2008 on You Tube. And I was surprised that none of them do...
RANDY AND JERRY
(Randy, a kangaroo, and Jerry, a wombat, pose for a picture. They talk under their breath as they wait for the photographer to take the damn photo already.)
RANDY: I wish this photographer would hurry up. What’s he waiting for?
JERRY: Maybe he’s trying to figure out how his life got to the point where he’s taking pictures of animals in blankets for a living.
RANDY: You smiling?
JERRY: I think...
MANATEE RIDE
(A woman named CHELA rides on the back of a manatee name GREG.)
CHELA: I’m not supposed to be doing this.
GREG: I won’t tell your husband.
CHELA: That’s not what I mean.
GREG: Honey, I can keep a secret.
CHELA: You got it wrong, man.
GREG: Oh, you’re not married?
CHELA: Yeah, I’m married.
GREG: Shit.
CHELA: You’re bad, you know that?
GREG: I thought for sure you were single.
CHELA: Why?
GREG:...
THE PHRASE "STRIKE UP A CONVERSATION" SOUNDS...
Ever know someone you haven’t seen in a long time? Like from a long time ago. And then from out of the blue you hear that he died. And your first reaction is: “Holy shit! I remember that guy! Wow! I’m sorry to hear that! Damn!” And then you think about it for a second and you go: “Holy shit! That guy was an asshole.”
Assholes die. Sure. I’ve got some asshole accomplishments in my life...
SORRY
I said “Sorry” to a bunch of people today: That little kid carrying the wrapping paper at the Grove I bumped into but the only reason I apologized was because its dad was with it—said sorry; that old man who wanted to know which way Beverly was and I accidentally said the wrong way but corrected myself with a sorry—said sorry; that guy at the Farmer’s Market who recognized me from when he and I...
"YOU'RE LUCKY I GOT REHEARSAL TONIGHT..."
This happened some months ago, but here’s the point: When you start off a story with the headline: “Orange County Community Theatre Actor Indicted In Two Murders,” I’m listening! You have my attention! The most chilling part of that headline is not the “Two Murders” part. It’s the “Orange County Community Theatre Actor” part. The mere phrase sends chills up my ass. That’s some seriously...
PUT SOME BOT PANTS ON.
I got a friend request from a bot the other day. So irritating, invasive and misleading. They think we don’t know they’re bots, but it’s so obvious they are. Their questionable dead stares and unbelievable names. What else could they be but bots? But this bot friend request was especially vexing because it was in person.
I was in a bar and this bot came right up to me—squeaking and...
DOUGHY SCI-FI ENTHUSIAST
I went to a damn Alien marathon yesterday at the Egyptian on Hollywood. It started at one in the afternoon and ended after midnight. Prometheus, Alien, Aliens, Alien 3, and Alien Resurrection. I’m such a dick. I don’t even like all those movies, but I watched them all. I was an hour late to Prometheus but I had just seen it anyway and didn’t care for it much anyhow, so whatever. I...
AN OPEN LETTER TO MY TOOTHPASTE
I press you onto my toothbrush. I smush you into the mess that’s my mouth. I disperse your whatever it is into the farthest reaches of my teeth, gums and palette. (As I type this, it occurs to me that it sounds like I’m talking about something other than brushing my teeth, but I’m not. So I’ll continue.) I grind your foam and bubbles into my interior cheeks like a chef does a mortar and...
THE HORNFATHER
I have typed about this before, but it bears repeating because it still exists: In my neighborhood, there is a car horn that plays the theme from The Godfather.
I hear it every day. I have heard it every day—and this is neither joke nor exaggeration—for about four years now. And that number may be low. You know how prisoners of war lose track of time after they’ve been held captive long...
WHILE I WAS OUT
I don’t try to get in touch with my feelings, true, but lately my feelings have been trying to get in touch with me. Regret called yesterday. Went to voicemail. Haven’t listened to it yet but I can pretty much guess he says: “Remember that thing that one time? That could’ve gone better.” Anger doesn’t so much call as come around to my home, pound on my door for longer than it normally takes...
IT SHOULD SAY "IN VERY SELECT THEATRES."
What’s he looking at? And why’s he so upset? Why the narrowed eyes? Why the sneer? He’s a movie star in jeans in the middle of Nebraska. I love when millionaire movie stars try to look upset. I never believe them. What’s the problem? What could possibly be so shitty? Did someone put the wrong kind of grain in his three-grain salad? Is his iPhone not charging properly? Looks like a nice...
DENTIST TOMORROW
Dentist tomorrow. Hope he doesn’t ask me what I’ve been up to. Once he looks in my mouth, won’t he be able to tell what I’ve been up to? Big fat croissants and Cheez-Its is what I’ve been up to. Milk shakes and baby carrots and yogurt and green tamales and bananas and green apples is what I’ve been up to. Oatmeal and the smoked salmon breakfast stack at the Alcove is what I’ve been up to. ...
"CAN I GET THESE BLOWN UP INTO 360" X 480"?"
(Denise, a sperm whale, gets her headshots taken by a photographer, Tim. He shoots many times throughout.)
TIM: Now think about something sad.
DENISE: You mean like being a whale?
TIM: You got a lot of really great, natural qualities, Denise.
DENISE: Oh my God. Shut. Up.
TIM: You do! It’s like, you just exist and it’s interesting.
DENISE: C’mon!
TIM: You ever modeled before?
DENISE: Um, well,...
NO MERMAIDS CAME.
“I’ll take trumpet,” I said. “Because trumpet’s only got three valves. How hard could it be?“ Very. Very hard. You gotta have lip. Sax is about tongue. Trumpet’s about lip. My only benefit of kinda knowing how to blow a trumpet was when we went to Hawaii and got those conch shells. Anyone could blow into the big ones and get a sound, but you had to have real lip power to get...
November 2012
31 posts
KITCHEN SWITCHES
I’ve been living here over eight years and I still don’t know which of these switches turns on the overhead light in my kitchen and which one turns on the porch light outside. I always find out after I’m wrong, of course, but I’m always wrong. I’m always turning on the porch light when I mean to turn on the kitchen light and I’m always turning on the kitchen light when I mean to turn on the...
AN OPEN LETTER TO MY CHECK ENGINE LIGHT
Oh. Hey. You’re back. I thought you left. My mechanic said you’d gone and probably wouldn’t be back for a while. But here you are again. Huh. What can I do for you? Did you forget something? That happens. Like at a party. You make a big show of saying good-bye to everyone and then discover you forgot something and have to go back. That happened to Albert Brooks once at a party. ...
NUMBER 6
Guilty. I took this tag. Okay? I took it. But I honestly didn’t know I took it. Isn’t it bad enough I’m admitting I shop at Target? Aren’t they mean to gay people? Aren’t they mean to gay people simply by selling the kinds of clothes they sell? I must’ve put this tag in my pocket and forgot about it and found it when I got home and saw that “Do...
STOP MAKING ZOMBIE MOVES AND START MAKING...
I’m nineteen minutes into this and I don’t wanna finish. I really don’t. Don’t feel like it. Pictures of people missing mouths. It’s way played out. You know why Americans get so freaked out at pictures of mouthless people? Because the thought of never being able to eat again is thoroughly horrific to them. That’s why it’s used in horror movies. They’d rather get tortured in a...
THIS REMINDS ME: I NEED PAJAMAS.
(Why yes, I am going to write a whole post inspired by an article in Men’s Health. [Your judgment’s as loud as a jackhammer.])
“Catch a glimpse of him or her after they doze off. What does your sleeping position say about you?” I think a better question is: “What does your scary penchant for watching people sleep say about you, Mr. Creep Face?” You know who used to break into homes to...
"HOW 'BOUT A 'THANK YOU, DOUBLE-0-SEVEN'?"
How many times does James Bond have to save the world before his bosses finally show him some damn gratitude?
Bond’s higher-ups are always giving him shit. M, Q, Chief of Staff: What a surly bunch they are. They roll their eyes and say stuff like: “Really, Double-0-Seven” and “Mind your manners, Double-0-Seven” and “Don’t muck it up, Double-0-Seven.” Don’t muck it up? When has he ever mucked...
PINBACK BE BACK
Bought a C.D. last week. (If that’s not an attention-getting first sentence, I don’t know what is. You should be like: “Bought? C.D.? Huh?”)
Information Retrieved by Pinback.
I’ve mentioned before that I won’t see Pinback live anymore. They try to rock when they play live, and I don’t like it when they try to rock: They play too fast and I enjoy their recordings way better.
The songs...
BIG RED BASTARD
Meet Kappa Andromedae B. It’s outside our solar system and it’s thirteen times the mass of Jupiter. That’s all. Just thirteen times the mass of only our biggest planet. That what it’s accomplished. What have you done today?
Since its name already sounds like a fraternity, wouldn’t it be great to send all our frat guys there?
“How come you’re not rushing this week, bro?”
“For Kappa A.B.? ...
YOU SAY GRACE. I SAY GROSS.
Help me out with something: What am I supposed to do while you guys say grace?
We’re at the table, we’re about to eat, we are—in fact—ready to bring those first fists full of food to our big stupid faces, but then you guys stop. You stop to press your hands together in a move which—at first—looks like martial arts, but isn’t. This is not martial arts. You clasp your hands together and lift...
NATURAL VISION THREE DIMENSION, AKA: LIFE
After seeing Skyfall at the ArcLight with my mom and dad Saturday, I drove us up to Hollywood Boulevard to take a scenic route past Mann’s Chinese Theatre where my dad suddenly remembered a movie he had seen there in 1952. “Bwana Devil!” he said. “Saw it with my dad! What a cornball! The movie, not my dad.” Although maybe his dad was a cornball too sometimes. Who knows?
(The last time I was...
"HEY! LET'S SCREAM AT THAT PERSON CRYING!"
I’m mostly never around cable because I don’t have it. So when I am around it, I devour it like a suburban Nebraskan mom does a bucket of Ruby Tuesday’s Mini-Burgers. I feel the need to use that comparison because I finally watched The Voice the other night and I think that show is the televised equivalent of an industrial strength water hose (you know, the kind that gets gum off the street)...
