Thursday, April 12, 2007
I don’t own a set of Birkenstocks yet ….
Today’s New York Times had an interesting article about which cars are gay. I liked the Subaru Outback or in the lingo of me and my sisters the Lesbaru. It turns out that not only am I gay, I’m also a lesbian. I don’t date anymore because I’m married (oh god, my wife, what will I tell my wife?) but when I was an eligible lesbian I must have been an idiot not to recognize the fact that roomy = lesbian. All those flouncy loose shirt...it was so obvious.
What is the gayest Pizza Topping?
What is the gayest Laptop Computer?
And of course
What is the gayest bank and/or bank machine?
Thank you for all your help and remember that the rainbow is everywhere.
Hala to my sistah’s
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Hand on heart
Dexter, Rocky and other nightmares…
Last night I watched the most recent episode of DEXTER. This show is weird. How can a show bring me to sympathize and then cheer on a serial killer? Amazing! So amazing, in fact, that my wife couldn’t sleep after the show. She is haunted by Dexter. I am haunted by Dexter today. Is this the hallmark of good writing? That it stays with you for days? ? It’s the charm of Dexter. His needs are so universal: he fears intimacy, he is lonely and wants a friend to play with, he loathes his deep dark secret. And I feel like I can relate to some, if not all, of those. So he connects to me and then goes all woogy-boogy and kills people in a cold and connoisseur-like way. I am getting all freaky on this show. It is carving up my moral fiber and feeding it back to me with fava beans and chianti. If Michael C. Hall can be this intense as a serial killer, I wonder if he’ll ever go back to musicals. Ya we got trouble, my friend, right here, I say, trouble right here in
Dexter’s world is strange but not as strange as this: ROCKY BALBOA is 60 years old and staging a come back. Yes sir, December 22nd brings us the latest installment of Sylvester Stallone’s ROCKY franchise. Now, I know what you’re saying: It’s pathetic, Sylvester trying to reinvigorate his career by resurrecting one of his only moments of quality. Surely, we all agree this franchise has been beaten to death? There are parallels in the story that jog along with Stallone himself. Rocky feels washed up and insignificant and Sylvester is probably feeling the same way. Although, Sly did rock in COP-LAND a few years back but aside from that he is in the StinkO file, that’s MR. STINKO to you, by the way. But the scariest thing about ROCKY BALBOA is not the baby boomer desperate attempt to be relevant again or the raping of a fiction franchise. No, the scary thing is that at 60 years old Stallone looks friggin’ better than I ever did. This alta-kacker, this geriatric can kick my ass. I watched one of the clips from the movie and I almost barfed from self pity. How the hell am I going to sleep with that on my mind?
Last, but not least, is Michael Richards on suicide watch yet? After his apology on Letterman I was thinking that maybe he needs a hug and lots of medication….lots. With Michael Richards’ screaming ‘Nigger’, geriatrics kicking my ass and Dexter killing his therapist…now I lay me down to sleep……
Monday, November 20, 2006
Yes, Master Milch I will watch your show...
David Milch, you freaky little fucker you. Milch fascinates and creeps me out at the same time. JOHN FROM CINCINNATI is a new series from the creator of DEADWOOD and according to the New York Times has birthed a new genre: Surf Noir. Did you hear me? SURF NOIR MAN! Oh yes…( I am shivering in anticipation here ooooh)Elements include: surfing, heroine addiction, a space alien and lawyers. All of this from a guy who lectures on his back propped up on one arm and gesticulating madly with the other. Milch is a cross between Jaba the Hut and Shakespeare and man, he makes me moist.
Deadwood made a huge impact in my life. For weeks after first viewing it, my wife and I lovingly referred to each other as COCKSUCKERS. It is an amazingly poetic, violent take on the western. It also put Ian Mcshane on my wife’s ‘list’ (You know what list I’m talking about, I know you do.). Now this crazy Mother-Fucker Milch is taking on the world of surfing. I LOVE THIS GUY. David Milch is on MY list god damn it.
Can you imagine the cojones you need to take a dark twisted look at dysfunctional family life through the eyes of surfers? It’s something you joke about to your friends when you’re stoned but Milch, Milch makes it happen. I have no idea if it will be a hit. I have no idea if it will even be good. But I just want to applaud anyone who can pitch this show and make it fly. Honestly, here in
Thank you HBO!
Thank you DAVID MILCH!
Bring on John from
Saturday, November 18, 2006
HACK?
I wonder about what kind of a writer I am and if, in fact, I can actually wear that label without sounding like a total hypocrite. My spelling is awful, grammar too. Jesus, I will use a semi-colon just ‘cause I think it looks pretty. I have never had anything published. I have only had one script, in my entire life, produced and even though I am currently in development with a network on a series, I feel, on a daily level, I write about as little as humanly possible. I rarely explore my own thoughts beyond “what is the soup of the day today?”. So, all that being said, how do I claim the mantle of writer? And how can I sit at my desk, reading scripts of other people’s work that is being produced and be so critical of it? How and what, in my experience and daily practice, puts me in a position to judge. Fucked, if I know. Seriously fucked. But man, some of the dreck which comes across my desk my makes me want to jab a pencil through my eye.
FORBIDDEN
PlayStation 3
- Go with the premium configuration, the one with the 60-gigabyte hard drive and Wi-Fi ability. You might end up paying more in the long run with the initially less expensive 20 GB model ($549) $660
- If you have a high-definition TV — and the PS3 was made with HDTVs in mind — then you will want to find an HDMI (high-definition multimedia interface) cable. Find it online for ... $35
- You need a game and Resistance: Fall of Man, with its 40-player online action, is a good one ... $70
- All three consoles also have libraries of casual games that can be downloaded. Try the new Blast Factor for an estimated price of ... $10
PRE-TAX TOTAL: $775
I WANT IT. Oh god! So black. So sexy. It's like Halle Barry in a box. I am shivering. I haven’t owned a gaming machine since I played Mad Bomber and Defender on my Atari back in the 80’s but my thumbs ache for the Playstation 3. Maybe it’s the mid-life thing. I can’t afford a sports car and I am probably too fat to be comfortable in one anyway, but this, this, calls to me in the night. It is the waistline expanding couch-potato’s grail. Through the veil of sexual-kink fantasies, the curtain parts and the Playstation 3 takes centre stage. My wife has banned it from the house. I want it even more now. Why? What is it that makes me want it so badly? Playstation 3. Play. Play with myself? Masturbate? Is it all about the joystick? What's missing in my life....I am pathetic. Gimme !
Saturday, October 14, 2006
The Morning After...
There is something truly disconcerting about waking up and my first impulse being to have a bowel movement and brush my teeth at the same time. Why do I do this to myself? I roll over and look at the woman next to me. Yep, that’s my wife. She’s gorgeous. Cuddled up against my ripples of flesh…How can she stand me? Okay, self pity time is over…I have to accept what I did, again. I fell off the wagon, the trough. I can’t brush the taste out of my mouth and I can’t crap out the guilt. I have a food hangover.
“The term morbid obesity refers to patients who are 50 - 100% -- or 100 pounds above -- their ideal body weight. Alternatively, a BMI (body mass index) value greater than 39 may be used to diagnose morbid obesity.”
The 230 mark was 4 years ago and since then 30lbs of flab have managed to move back home. I now know what parents must feel like when their children move back into the basement. It’s a lot of extra weight that really doesn’t fit well with a new life style. Get out! Get a job! Leave me be…but I miss you…come and visit, bring pizza…it’s a seriously damaged relationship I have with myself.
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