Top Ten Old People you would have sex with

If you had to sleep with a current old person, perhaps someone famous, who would it be.? I recently asked this question to a few friends and we got some really strange responses.

Here’s the list of top ten old people you would have sex with if you had to fuck an old person. (there are five men and five ladies, making this a bi sexual list...)



10- Ali McGraw- (70) I’ve always had a thing for this chick, every since I saw Love Story and the Getaway. She used to look like Kate Mara looks now. How does she look now? I’m not sure. But man she used to be hot and she’s still alive.



9- Harrison Ford- (66) The girl from down the hall at work loves this dude. What’s not to love, he’s been two of the most memorable characters of all time, Han Solo and Joe Gavilan from Hollywood Homicide. My friend Taryn disagrees, her direct quote “I can’t date someone who wears a gay ass ear ring.” I can understand that, he’s old enough to collect Social Security, he doesn’t need an ear ring. But apparently Taryn can date someone who has a gay ass lip piercing (inside joke at Dayn’s expense)

Also, Harrison Ford gets crazy stoned... bonus points... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nubw-MjUffA



8- Diane Lane- (43) Ok she’s not old. In all actuality, she’s only 43. 43! But every time you mention her to a guy, they’re like, “I’d bag that old ass.” Dude, she’s not that old! Why does every guy think she’s so old? I thought I would include her to make a point. She may look old, but she could be much older. Plus, she seems to be topless and getting screwed in all her movies. Good times.



7- Anderson Cooper (41) Here’s the male equivelent to Diane Lane. Chicks love this dude and think he’s old. Just because he has gray hair chicks think he’s much older and much hotter than he really is. Is that all it takes, is a little gray hair? That’s cool, I’ve got graying thin hair, I look ten years older than I am too! Love me please! Plus my girl says that this dude is gay. Sorry ladies.



6- Jane Fonda- (71) This one is for my boy Adam Bradley. He pointed her out and I have to agree, she’s still got it. I’ve never really thought she was that hot but man she takes care of herself to this day. And who doesn’t want to fuck Barbarella?



5- Sean Connery- (78) Another old ass dude who played some pretty big roles( what girl doesn't want to fuck James Bond?). Women always find him sexy. I hear he’s kind of a dick, but whatever, women love assholes. Strange to think that he was cast at Harrison’s father in Indiana Jones, yet he’s only 12 years older. Hmmmmm.



4- Audrey Hepburn- (dead, she would be 79) I’ve always had a thing for this girl. She’s so cute. Too cute... so cute it makes my penis confused... she’s like a telli tubby mixed with a porn star. But alas, she’s dead. Now I can only jerk off to her corpse (just kidding, you can get worms from doing that). But look at the picture above from 1991, she took care of herself and even looked good in old age!



3- George Clooney- (47) Again not that old but chicks think he’s super hot. And I respect him, so I have to put him on this list. Maybe I should have put Robert Redford and Clint Eastwood on this list, they’re much older... hmmmm.



2- Ingrid Bergman- (also dead, she would be 93) Being such a huge Casablanca fan, I couldn’t leave her off the list. But of course, when I went to look up her age, she’s dead, died when I was four years old. Shit, I guess this list is turning into dead old chicks I would bang. Shit. I should have put Cleopatra on here.



1- Michelle Pfeiffer- (50) Man, she’s 50? She’s the best looking 50 year old that I can remember shit. I was never a big Pfeiffer fan, I never had a boner for this chick before. But looking at her at the premiere of the 2007 shitty film Stardust, damn. I’m impressed. I did think she was pretty hot in Scarface, shit you could bang her while listening to ‘Gangsta’s Paradise’ for comic relief. That would be pretty hot.

So that was only four guys and six girls... ‘you lied to us J!’ Well, I can’t end the list with a guy, that would be gay. Secondly, I can’t have too many dead women on the list, it makes me look like a necro. Third, it’s my list, I can break my own rules.

Others who didn’t make the list- Cindy Crawford, Diane Keaton, the chick from Married with Children, Debra Winger, Dolly Parton (who looks like she’s 18 year old robot now from too much plastic surgery), Lynda Carter and Estelle Getty.

Computer Design

I’m trying to design a website for my short movie. I have all these big nerdy internet dreams for the site. You log into www.tag.com and all this cool flash intro stuff happens and then the trailer for the movie starts and stills from the movie fly at you from all angles. BOOM! You’re instantly hooked into the world of my movie.

It seems like something that could happen, right? Then I realized, I don’t know how to program that, at all. Shit, I don’t even know that much about the internet.

I once took a month long course on internet design, and I learned how to make the lamest webpage of all time. But I came out of it thinking I knew how to program a website.

Boy was I wrong. I had no fucking idea how hard this shit was going to be.

There are so many steps, so many programs and companies and urls and crap... so much stuff I don’t know!

Crap, my awesome www.tag.com is taken... I guess I have to have www.tagshortfilm.com. Does that still sound cool? I hope so. That’s my new url.

After registering my site, I am hit with like 100 other ‘options’ that are optional but sound more like ‘mandatorys’ if I want my site to not suck. All of these options of course cost MONEY.

I need to have a hosting? What the fuck’s that mean? What, I need to have Ryan Seacrest introduce my site? (just kidding I know what this shit means, I did take a month long internet course of course.)

Then I research programs that help you build your site from scratch, Dreamweaver is like a 1,000 dollars. Ouch. Fuck that. I could pay someone else that much money to do it...

So I look for other companies to build the site. After researching this, I then realize that it will cost me a fortune to have a company build a site with all the cool flashy shit I want in it.

I find one company that will help out, internet solutions for less. I talk to EJ from the company who says I could pick from a 1,000 templates and use one to customize my site. But all of the templates are strange and don’t match up to what I want to do.

Damn. I’ve run out of options. If you go to my website and your not completely impressed, I’m sorry. I had to settle for something less than my nerdiest internet dreams.

how tag came about...

I have a ton of stuff to do toady for Tag's promotional materials for film festivals. Instead of giving you all a very funny story about poop, I thought I would cut and paste the story of how the inspiration for my short film came about...

I got the idea for Tag when I was playing basketball at a local park in Hollywood.
There was a group of young Russian and black kids who were seriously hip hop; the slang, the baggy clothes, the wanna be tough guy attitude, the cliché.

It reminded me of... me. I used to dj hip hop at clubs, scratch for local hip hop acts, freestyle battle with my friends, wear all my clothes gangsta, tag up bathrooms with graffiti, get too faded and get into too much trouble.

Why did I act like that? Good question. A damn good question.

I did it for hip hop; the art of it, the community, the music, the vibe, the rebellion from my utter pasty whiteness.

It was staring at those kids that made me realize that I was no longer like that. While there are remnants of hip hop in my life, (I still love my tilted ballcap and fresh sneakers), the music, the graffiti, and the attitude are nearly gone from my life.

Why don’t I act like that now? Another good question.

Something got lost along the way. Maybe I grew up or maybe I got too old. Maybe I wanted a change. Maybe hip hop just didn’t do it for me anymore. Maybe hip hop changed.

Hip hop isn’t about the art anymore. It’s more about the commercial aspects of the music. Hip hop is more about portraying a bad stereotype. Hip hop is now about violence, misogyny, drug use, who’s gotten shot more and who’s got more bling.

I thought back to my friends Brent and Clint, who were both shot and killed in separate shootings about 7 months apart. Both were ‘gangstas’, mixed up with the wrong kids with bad intentions.

Both were trying to change their bad ways, finally turning a corner at clearing themselves of the crime, violence and self destructive behavior when they were struck down by bullets. Sometimes irony really hurts.

I wondered if any of these kids at the basketball court wanted more from their lives. Does one of them want to be something more than what they are now but are held back by their friends, their situation, their existence?

That’s why I left hip hop, djaying and graffiti to pursue film; a medium of art that didn’t hold such negative connotations.

It hit me then and there, I had to write about this!

I decided right away that I would focus specifically on graffiti instead the music of hip hop (which has been done to death).

Why Graffiti? I firmly believe still to this day that graffiti is the most misunderstood art form. I think Graffiti is beautiful; others think its trash. That dichotomy has always intrigued me.

When I sat down to write, I didn’t want to just recycle my own personal story, I wanted to craft a revisionist telling of a Greek tragedy, told through the guise of the modern hip hop community. I wanted a story with some emotional impact, a unique storytelling dynamic and visual style similar to the art I was talking about. Hopefully, I’ve come close to my intentions.

Rainy Days

Don’t you just love the rain? I do.

It’s been raining for the last four or five days straight. Sometimes its little bursts of rain, other times it’s a downpour. It reminds me of when I first moved to LA, it rained everyday for like three months it felt like. It was one of the rainiest years LA had ever seen. And I loved every second of it.

Think of all the wonderful things you can do when its raining…

-Splash in puddles. Awesome. Nuff Said.

-Write. I get my best writing done when its raining. I don’t know why, if the cold weather shakes my brain up or the rhythmic pattern of the raindrop hitting the ground sparks some creativity.

-Play guitar. Sit under a balcony and play sad slow songs. Think about all the people long gone.

-Converse. I wish I could sit at home on the patio, drink coffee and talk to Jeff Woods. Unfortunetly, I have to go to work, I don’t have a coffee maker anymore and Jeff lives in New York.

-Go swimming. Have you ever gone swimming when it’s raining? If you haven’t, I highly recommend it.

-Watch a bunch of old movies.

-Go for a wet walk.

-Play chess. That’s what I’m going to do today at work actually.

I hope it rains as hard and long as when I moved to LA, think of all the wonderful things I could do!

Unromantic Romantic Film

My friend Molly wanted me to review this romantic dramedy script that she’s writing. I went through it and came up with some notes and called her to tell her what I think of it.

Boring story so far, yes, but here’s where it gets less boring… for me at least.

Molly hit me with something I wasn’t ready for, she wants me to direct it.

While I like the script, it’s not exactly what I normally work on, a romantic comedy/drama. I’m more about dramas (aka misery) without a hint of romance. I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t think it was in my wheelhouse, to borrow a baseball term, not my forte.

But I said I would do it. Every chance to direct and not have to pay for it myself, I gotta take it right?

The more I think about the script, the more I like it.

Sure it’s a movie about romance, but not really. It’s more like the opposite of romance, what is that called… that’s right reality.

There aren’t nearly enough movies that tackle the real parts of human relationships, and if they do, its usually with a big Hollywood ending where the two people who are meant for each other but can’t seem to make it work finally figure it out and live happily ever after. This doesn’t have that basic mandatory ending, and I (aka misery lover) loves me a not perfect ending.

But here’s the predicament, I think the script still needs work. Maybe a couple drafts more. There are some serious character arcs that need to be resolved. There are a couple characters that could be flushed out. There is a great possibility for two of the supporting roles to get meatier and help the story. The dialog is too on the nose right now… etc. etc. etc.

Usually, I would just write the shit myself, but this is Molly’s baby and the whole reason she wants me to direct it is because she wants to have something she wrote made. And if I tackle helping rewriting it, then she might not feel like it is hers, which the whole thing is hers, I just want to augment that. Hmmmmm…. What do I do?

Hopefully you will see an awesome unromantic romantic film coming from Molly and I very soon.

Heath Ledger

I feel terrible about the passing of Heath Ledger.

When I was working on “Where the Wild Things Are”, his girlfriend and baby momma, Michelle Williams was cast on the film (she has since been recast). I had to pick Michelle up at the airport and drive her around for two hours. She was one of the coolest stars I have met out here so far, totally down to Earth, and easy to talk to. She had her beautiful daughter Matilda with her, it seemed like life was great for her.

During the voice recording sessions, Heath flew into LA to be with his family. He was always very chill, monotone but extremely nice, polite and courteous- even when I inadvertently got him a parking ticket.

I had to drop off something at the set and return to the studio very quickly. I pulled into the set parking lot and got out of my car. When I got back, Heath’s rental SUV was parked behind me. “Fuck, I’ve got to get this guy who just got nominated for an Academy Award to move his car.”

He was totally cool with it, ran out there with me and moved his car to the street. He of course parked in a spot where they were about to do street cleaning. I tried to tell him that he shouldn’t park there, but he just did and went back inside to play with his baby.

Of course, the studio called and said I needed to stay on set until this other paperwork was finished. I had to sit there and watch the parking lady come out and give Heath a parking ticket. I wasn’t sure what to do. I ran inside and tried to get him to come out to move again but he was on the live set, and I wasn’t about to stop production for this thing.

Once word got to Heath that his car was getting a ticket, I was hiding. I wasn’t sure if he was going to be the same nice guy. I walked around outside, trying to avoid any contact with him or Michelle.

Heath calmly walked out, grabbed the ticket and didn’t care. I’m sure he had more than enough money to pay for the ticket, but he had such a cool manner about it when I saw him later, he didn’t even mention it or look at me cross. He just said ‘hello’ in his low gruff voice and went about his business.

I always thought back to that as a sign of what a cool guy he is. Was. Damn.

Warner Bros. was a buzz with talk about the death yesterday. He just finished Dark Knight for us and we are promoting Heath and his Joker character all over the internet and movie theatres. Now, what do you do right? Do you keep going with your dark ad campaign showing Heath in a pasty ghost white makeup talking about ‘Why so serious?”

It’s scary to me that he’s one year younger than me and now he’s gone. It certainly makes you think, at any time, you could get struck down.

It’s a sad day. My regards to Heath’s family, especially Michelle and Matilda.

School Dreams

----Not pictured, the creepy new guy who looks to be almost 30 years old. But man, was he good in that High School Musical.

I had a terrible dream this morning, one I knew I was going to have. It’s a dream that I have quite often, but one that always leaves me in a bad mood.

I always have these dreams that I have to go back to school for some reason, like I didn’t finish some class I didn’t know that I had or I failed some final I thought I passed. Never the less, I’m there back in school again.

But I’m older than all the other kids by like 15 years, and everyone knows it. I ride up on my skateboard and they look at me like, “What’s the old guy doing on the skateboard?”

Then I try to go to my first class but I realize, I don’t know my schedule. I don’t know which class to go to at all. this usualy leads me to be the crazy old guy who walks around asking everyone where I'm supposed to go.

This morning, I ended up going into a class room I thought I had to go into. MATH CLASS. I hate math. I suck at math. And of course, that's the course my sleep brain wanted me to go into. Stupid brain.

So, I walk in late and everyone looks at me like I’m the old crazy guy. I can’t find a seat and then I do, by the biggest nerd in class. It’s the two of us outcasts, sitting away from the rest of the group. Every once and a while, they turn and look at us and laugh.

Most of the other times I dream about going back to school, I’m panicked because I don’t know how I’m going to graduate, that I have bills to pay that I can’t pay and I’m so behind. Or I can’t find parking and I know I’m going to be late for a class that I’m not even sure where it is or what class. Or I end up walking the halls without a hall pass, trying to find the principal’s office to get me out of this class that made me become a student again. Or I have a huge test in a class I didn't know I was even enrolled in.

LAME.

The reason why I knew I was going to have this dream was that my girlfriend had her first day of school today. She graduates after this semester, hopefully I won’t have this dream after she graduates. Although I'm pretty sure I'll have this dream for the rest of my life.

It’s weird, I knew I was going to dream about going to school, and BOOM I did. It was a self fulfilling prophecy. How come I can’t think that I am going to dream about being rich, with super strength and the ability to fly and then actually dream it?

Man that would be great. Until then, it's me being the oldest senior in high school.

Super Weekend Fun Bomb

Sorry I haven’t posted in the last two days. I was feeling under the weather and took some time off for work. I did get a lot of writing done, but it was on my script, not my blog.

Here are some interesting things that interest me…

-Cloverfield comes out today. Why is that interesting? Well, I want to see it. Its either going to be great or the dumbest movie of all time. There is no gray area in this one. The more I see previews for it, the more I’m worried. I had a convo with my lady, Dayn and Chef Mike about this one, they all want to just know what the damn thing looks like. Plus I’m intrigued that it was shot so cheap (I think the budget was 30m). To pull off something like that, you need some serious invention and smarts. Bad Robot has that, so this could be very good.

-Three day Weekend. I get Monday off from work, which is great since I get to shoot some stuff with my friends. We are going to do a DV short movie, each of us directing one about blind dates. I have really awesome blind date idea with a great twist at the end, I can’t wait to shoot it. When I get it done, I’ll post it on this blog.

-Working out. It interests me enough to mention it, but not enough to actually do it. I need to get off my fat ass and make it to the gym. But every morning I wake up, I just feel like sleeping in. I guess that’s just me, not one else ever feels like that. Plus, I have to start running (see hate running column) so I don’t die during this half marathon. It doesn’t help that the lady next door at work is super healthy and mentions all this health crap to me, making me feel even more guilty… which leads me to…

-Eating right. Instead of working out, I’ve been trying to eat better. Tons of salads have gone through this system of mine. Plus, we got his diet food book from the Biggest Loser and tried a recipe last night for this baked pasta dish and it was so good, Chef Mike is going to serve it to his old ass clients at work. I guess you can eat right and still enjoy it! (as long as its small portions)

-Going to Phoenix. My sister is flying out to Phoenix from Michigan to see my brother and my new nephew. She bugs me every single day to get work off, when my boss is super stressed out right now and I have to tell him that I’m going in for an interview for another job. Moo, if you’re reading this, back off me dude. I’ll ask him as soon as I can!

-Anyone here any good new music lately? I need something new, I’m driving myself nuts by listening to Radiohead, the Beatles and Bob Dylan all day long.

Well, that’s it for now. Enjoy the three day weekend and be safe.

PS= I’m working on an NBA column for Tracey Phillips blog site, when I get it up, I’ll link it here.

Rock Band

On Friday night, I had a bunch of people over for a party like no other. A ‘Rock Band’ party.

You’ve never heard of a Rock Band Party, that’s fine I made it up. Well, probably not, I’m sure there are plenty of nerds out there that do this sort of thing all the time.

Rock Band is a video game where you play guitar, bass, drums and sing along to your favorite songs. Of course, you don’t play real instruments, but at least they’re not completely fake either. Playing the guitar and bass are like tapping buttons on a large long guitar shaped controller, but the drums are surprising real and require drum playing timing and you have to really sing, hit notes and have the same cadence as the original song.

When I set out to have some people over to play this game, I didn’t think anyone would show up. But more and more people came over, ready to belt out ‘Creep’ and other songs. Everyone seemed to really enjoy the total nerdiness of pretending to be in a band together, giving high fives, coming up with fictional band names, pumping up the crowd with impromptu vocal performances.

Nothing brings together a group of people like pretending to be a band. We rocked until the wee hours of the night.

Let me tell you, it’s a freaking addictive game. I wanted to play the shit out of it after the party, but soon I had to return the game to Sarah (I don’t own Rock Band but I want to… BAD).

Next time you are looking for a good reason to have a bunch of people at your house getting drunk, signing off key, and pretending that they know how to play instruments; check out Rock Band.

Late to Work

---I knew it was a bad sign when I saw this... bad sign.

I woke up this morning knowing that there was something I was supposed to do today but wasn’t sure what. I know I had an interview, so that has to be it right? No, there’s something else. Take out the dog? No. There’s something I’m supposed to do! But what?

Oil change? Yeah, I’ve got to get that done, but that’s not it.

Screw it, maybe I’m just worried about this interview. So, I shaved, showered, got ready and ran out the door to go work.

But as I drove up to the lot, I remembered what it was. I was supposed to come work 30 minutes early so that my boss could have a meeting. FUCK ME!!!

I hate being late. HATE IT. Especially if its to something that could get me in trouble if I’m late, like work today.

Of course, my boss wasn’t happy. In fact, I didn’t even get to tell him my excuse for being late, he wouldn’t hear it.

Now, my mind can’t stop thinking about being late. I really want to write something funny and interesting this morning but damn if I can’t stop thinking that I shouldn’t have taken that extra five minutes in the shower, or the ten minutes when I got back into bed with my girl or the twenty minutes to shave my legs.

Damn, what can I do to make this up to the ol’ boss man? Buy him a cake? Flowers? Make him macaroni art? Write him a poem? Wash his car?

Well, I give up. Screw him if he’s mad. What’s the worst that could happen? I could get fired… oh yeah that would be bad. Crap.

Wish me luck on my interview, I may need this job more than I thought.

Ten Things that are wrong with the world-

----At least two thirds of our miseries spring from human stupidity, human malice and those great motivators and justifiers of malice and stupidity…
-ALDOUS HUXLEY

Let me paraphrase the above quote- “The world is filled with stupid, mean people who make living harder.”

I’m surrounded by the stupidity, confused by the malice. It’s time I make a change. I offer you my list of ten things that are wrong with the world and quick solutions.



10- Reality TV. This one is pretty obvious. It’s dumbing down America, taking our attention spans and smashing them. It’s making celebrities of whores who only desire in life is to be famous.

I know I’m hypocritical for writing this, I worked on Survivor for Christ’s sake. But I never watched the show, even when I worked on it. And I did it for a paycheck, not for love of the content (I guess I’m the whore.)

Solution- Stop watching these programs. I know it’s hard, it’s like trying not to rubber neck when driving past a car accident. They’re so bad, that they’re almost good. Almost. But it’s the Lowest common denominator television, a step above watching a public execution. If you see “I Love New York 4” pop on your channel guide, don’t click on it. Watch the History channel or rent a movie you morons.



9-“Celebetards”- This one is almost an extension of number 10 with a catch. Everyone is so obsessed with what Britney, her sister, her friends and every other slut is doing. What is Brad and Angelina doing? How dare Jennifer Love Hewitt have thunder thighs? Is the High School Musical chick really naked? (I have to admit, I was curious about this one) The worst one- What are the chicks from the Hills doing? (who the fuck are these people? Honestly!)

They’re just people, same as you and me; but prettier, wealthier, and have paparazzi following them at all hours of the day.

I’m sorry, these people aren’t important to our lives. Do we really need to know all this shit about them to make our lives better? Fuck no. If America took half of the time it does following these celebrity retards and instead did charity work, we would be in some sort of utopia right now.

Solution- Simple. Stop fucking following these people’s actions! Stop pseudo stalking them by looking at Perez Hilton! Stop purchasing Us magazine! Stop making these people’s lives seem more important than everyone else’s!



8- Fatty Fast Food- I love fast food. Love it. Eat it once a day if I can, just because I’m strapped for time.

But what the fuck, why hasn’t someone come out with a fast food restaurant filled with healthy, low fat food that’s cheap and easy? And I’m not talking about Subway, fuck that shit up its stupid ass.

There are tons of people that are on ‘diets’, why not make a restaurant to caters to this market?

Solution- Another simple one, make a fucking healthy fast food chain. Am I going to have to be the one to quit my position and do this? Come on Mr. McDonald’s, you’ve got more money than God. Give me a place called “Healthsmart” or some gay name like that and make it healthy, tasty and fast!

Which leads me to my next topic…



7- Fat people- And I don’t mean people slightly over weight, that’s fine and in fact I encourage it. Fuck our society body issues and views of what is good looking. Have a little fat, its sexy to me.

The people I’m talking about are the seriously obese people who eat all the time. I understand gland problems, I get that. But saying you have a gland problem and then eating 5 Big Macs and fries isn’t a gland problem, it’s a fucking eating problem.

We have two super fat people at where I work. They look so uncomfortable and sad all the time, heavy breathing and lumbering down the hall. And I’ve seen both of them eat, fuck me, they gorge themselves.

Solution- Round up all super fat people and kill them. Just kidding. Another easy one, eat portions like the rest of us you fat assholes. I’m not saying quit cold turkey, but cut back a whopper every time you eat.



6- Over produced music- I just heard the new Janet Jackson single. Ouch. Fuck, what the hell happened?

Sometime in the last 8 years, pop music decided that it needed to sanitize everything, make every song sound alike, treat everyone’s voice with tons of studio magic, (aka pitch and tone shifting to make everything perfect) and not try anything new.

Plus, no one plays instruments anymore. Its drum machines and programs, that’s not talent!

Someone needs to come along and hit America in the face with some good hard core music. Nirvana comes to mind. Just when music was at an all time low, grunge hit and made popular music good again.

Solution- Give me enough money and time to make a good album with people who are good at what they do. Then give me some more money to make more music like this. Repeat until we wipe out the rest of the bullshit.




5- Video game addicts- My brother used to be one, I know several others. People that would rather play 65 hours of video games a week than interact with the real world. I understand the appeal of videogames, they give you a chance to do things that you couldn’t possibly do in real life without consequence, like shoot cops. But have some moderation people! Try mixing in some exercise. Or maybe make a friend or two.

Solution- This one is a toughie. How the hell do you convince an entire generation of kids to put down their controllers? Give them incentives and goals like in video games but push the ‘real life’ aspect of it. If you get a real job, you can have real money. If you play real sports, you can get real life health. If you get a real girlfriend, you can get real laid.



4- The term metrosexual- If I want to dress nice, I’m either gay or a ‘metrosexual’. Fuck you. I’m not trying to dress gay, I’m trying to dress not homeless. When did looking nice become a strictly gay thing? And metrosexual is the worst word of all time, it implies that you are gay for looking nice. Again a hearty fuck you.

You don’t see people who work business jobs saying to each other, “Man, you look gay in that suit.” No, they don’t even notice because you are supposed to look nice. Can’t we adopt that policy throughout the rest of the world?

Solution- Stop saying metrosexual! Wipe that shit from the vernacular. Tell someone they look nice and thank them for having enough self respect to take care of themselves.



3- Text messages and IM- This type of communication is fine for quick notes but is the absolute worst for trying to convey any feelings or emotions.

I’m sure all of us have had a fight or argument through these communication means before. Sucks right? Everything is taken out of context, or read wrong, there are no ways of expressing nonverbal communication. If you’re joking, you’re in trouble. People will read that the wrong way every time.

Solution- If you have something serious to talk about, call someone or meet them. Simple I know but everyone gets caught in this bullshit and then things that are written are held over your head for the rest of time, since written word is recalled better than spoken ones for some reason. If someone tries to engage you in a fight by these means, tell them to stop and try again when they can physically speak.



2- Creativity- I used to think America ran out of good ideas. I’m wrong. Yet again.

We aren’t out of creativity, we’re afraid of taking risks. We’re afraid of trying anything new. We’re afraid of failing.

It’s everywhere. Movie studios won’t make movies unless they have a built in audience from an existing property; ie TV show, toy line or remake of an existing movie. Music companies won’t sign acts that they don’t know how to market, they need to have a band that has a sound that’s close to a proven commodity already out there. TV shows don’t come out unless they have a tried and true formula.

The trickle down effect is that artists now cater to these companies and dumb down their material to try to make sure that they make money to eat.

Solution- Take a chance. Please super mega conglomerate companies. Just try something new out and see if we like it. If we don’t, it’s a small blip on your financial forecast. Artists, keep your voices and push the limits.



1-Anger- Everyone seems angry all the time. I know I fall victim to it. But it’s the reason why all of our problems exist.

We get angry at every inconvenience, slight or problem we have. People slam on their horns constantly in traffic. People yell at customer service people who are just trying to do their job. People want to punch out people they have never met because they accidentally bumped into them.

Solution- Relax. Take a deep breath. Take a step back. Doesn’t that feel better? Everything isn’t so bad after all. If everyone would just relax and not take things so personally, the world would be a much better place.

So there it is, my top ten list of things to do to make this world better. I hope that you will help me in my endeavor.

My friend's new blog

Hey gang-

Please check out my boy's new blog, its freaking funny and he's a good egg.

Its about sports and I may contribute some material for it. Should be fun...

http://deartracyp.blogspot.com

J-

My friend's new blog

Hey gang-

Please check out my boy's new blog, its freaking funny and he's a good egg.

Its about sports and I may contribute some material for it. Should be fun...

J-

I hate running

---This chick hates running also. Now someone has to get shot and fix this trick a drink.

I promised my sister that I would run a half marathon with her this year. Man, what a fucking mistake that was.

I’ve never liked running. I hated running laps in PE. I hated running laps when I was playing sports. I hated running from the police.

I planned on starting to run everyday after New Year’s. So far I have gone a total of 0 times.

Why?

For one, I’m lazy.

Secondly, when am I supposed to run? It feels like every free moment is taken with either-

-Something I have to do but don’t mind doing because it is part of my master plan for the year (finish my 4th draft of my new script, finish the audio on my short movie)

-Something I don’t want to do (go to work, other crap that I won’t list here so I don’t get in trouble with someone)

-Or something else that I want to do (play guitar, read, watch movies, smoke pot)

Third, I just plain fucking hate running. Hate it more than shaving. I hate it more than ham. I hate it more than my old roommate. That’s a lot of hate right there.

I just don’t get running. What’s fun about running? There is no sport to it, you’re just … running. There are no balls, no competition unless it is a race (which I won’t participate in because I will lose).

I take it I’m supposed to having fun during my asthma attack from running on crowded, smog infested LA streets, or by being a hamster running on a treadmill with nothing to look at but a muted ESPNNEWS. Fuck that.

But I made the commitment to do this thing, so what the shit do I do now?

I guess I have to run at some point, but the half marathon isn’t for another 8 months. What is the right amount of time to train for a half marathon? A month? Two months? 8 months?

Someone please help me? Give me strong longs and legs!

Ghosts

I see dead people. Or I’ve seen dead people. I don’t currently see any dead people, that would make writing this blog a lot harder.

Just like that terrible M. Night mess, I think only some people can see dead people. I’m unfortunately one of them.

The first time I saw a ghost was in my old house when I was very young. I was convinced that the house was haunted for months (or was it years?) before I saw one. I would have terrible nightmares (maybe due to the ghosts?) and after I would wake up and I would pace through the house for hours on end.

One night, during my pacing, I walked into the kitchen. There was someone sitting there, staring at me, sitting in a dining room chair turned completely away from the table. I yelled bloody murder and got my mom to investigate. When we went back into the kitchen, the dining room chair was turned and placed back where it normally rested. I tried to convince my mom that the chair wasn’t under that table, it was pulled out but she didn’t believe me or in ghosts at all.

She soon would change her mind.

We stayed with my aunt in her 200 hundred year old West Virginia home. IN THE ATTIC. You talk about fucking scary, that place was just a little less scary than the Lookout Hotel but Elm Street had nothing on this attic. We didn’t sleep the entire night, my brother, mom and I stayed awake looking at passing shadows in the darkness. The strange howling was a little too much to take. The next day we were like zombies, no sleep and scared that something might catch us while we ate Cheerios in the Kitchen two stories below Hell’s attic.

Then there was the time when we were at a retreat for my fraternity. The retreat was in the middle of B.F.E., in the scary woods at an old camping ground. A bunch of us guys went out for a late night snack into the mess hall. When we were standing there making hot cocoa and eating cereal, I looked up into the kitchen. There was someone watching us. I thought maybe it was Bradford screwing around.

But then I turned, Bradford was standing right next to me. In fact, everyone was there with us, who the hell is in the kitchen? Suddenly, everyone got a chill up their spine and a feeling that we need to run as fast as humanly possible out of the mess hall. After we stopped running about a half mile away, we all confirmed our fears, there was a ghost watching us from the dark recesses of the kitchen.

After this ghost sighting, my friend Kyle was obsessed with ghosts and haunted houses. He convinced me (I don’t know how exactly) to go with him to a haunted hotel on the US border with Mexico and spend the night in the most haunted room there. After we got to this God forsaken empty hotel and as soon as we walked inside, a feeling of dread and fear fell over us, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, I shit you not. We met the caretaker of the Hotel, a crazy old man who was nearly as scary as the hotel.

After he left the hotel, I realized that this most be the most scary place in the world, much scarier than another ghost scare I had before. It was old, creepy and filled with random scary shit like broken dolls missing eyes and antique photos of long dead people. As we walked through the hotel, I gave an account of one of the dead people we read about to Kyle and his video camera. Suddenly, there was a terrible BANG that resonated throughout the entire hotel, shaking the foundation. I turned to Kyle and we both went ghost white. We ran out of the hotel and stood in the front yard, wondering if we would really spend the night there.

After eating dinner at a local restaurant, we decided that we came all this way and paid, we should stay the night there. We sat up most of the night, playing games and watching TV and trying to not to think about the crazy noises that were happening all over the house. Eventually, I passed out, although I wasn’t sure how (I think the ghosts wanted me to pass out so they could fuck with Kyle).

I went through the night sleeping ghost free. Kyle didn’t have the same fate. He would wake up cold, with all of the covers magically tucked under his torso like you would wrap a corpse in a burial shroud. He’d fall asleep and then he would wake up hot, with every single cover and sheet pulled off the bed and laying on the floor. Then he woke up once to a deadly smell of sulfur and fish, piercing his nose. Freaky huh?

He pulled out the video camera during this and video taped the dark room. The only light was at the crack of the door. Suddenly something walked past the light, darkening the room and then disappeared.

The next morning we met the care taker again and he told us a hundred stories that make ours sound silly. Apparently, devil worshipers used the hotel for sacrifices after it was abandoned.

And even though we asked to stay in the most haunted room, the guy told us the room we stayed in was the second most. When we asked why he didn’t give us the other room, he said, “No one stays in Grandma’s room.” Apparently, that’s the room that all the sacrifices took place in as well as a 1910’s grandma who killed her grandkids and herself. Every night at three AM a fake koo koo clock with no gears or clock attached rings out and all sorts of random shit happens in the room, including the screams of children and blood pooling on the floor.

Scary right?

I can honestly say after that experience that very few things scare me. Now if I could just get over my fear of heights.

Top Ten Things to Do in the New Year

Everyone I’ve been talking to is upset, bored and depressed. For the first time in six months, I’m really happy. Why? I’m not sure. I think the break changed my outlook on things.

Plus, I’m excited about the new opportunities and things to do to in the New Year. Here’s a list of ten new things to do during the New Year.

10- Steal something. Doesn’t have to be much but steal something. Perhaps a candy bar from a store. Or maybe some jewelry from a house. Or maybe a couple hundred million dollars from investors. After you do steal something, you’ll get this great feeling that you are sticking to the man or something. Such a rush!

9- See a play. When was the last time you saw a play you lazy bastard? There are so many great actors tolling away out there and you just ignore them. Shame on you.

8- Go whale watching. I’ve never done this myself (unless you count looking at whales pass by the cruise boat) but it sounds pretty rad right? Whales are beautiful, the open sea is fun, and you might get sea sick, which is always fun.

7- Have an all you can eat contest. Take a bunch of your friends to a buffet and see who can eat the most food in one sitting. It’s fucking funny as shit to do and plus, you get to feel sick for the rest of the day, which is always fun. Plus you can fall into a food coma like after Thanksgiving.

6- Pick a fight with someone. Find someone you don’t really like and pick a fight with them. It doesn’t have to be a fist fight but that might help. Tell them exactly how you feel and let ‘em have it. It’s a great stress reliever.

5- Play on a playground. Find a great playground (not one at McDonald’s, the kids pee in the ball pits, but that would work also) and let loose. Ride the slide. Climb the monkey bars. Swing. Do all the things you used to do but don’t have recess now to do.

4- Help out an old lady. Preferably who would like help. Running up to random ladies and trying to help them may freak them out. But then again, that might also be a lot of fun. Scratch 'help out' and put 'freak out'.

3- Paint something. Make a crappy abstract painting and say its your master work. People will love the painting and tell you that you’re a genius. It works for me all the time!

2- Try out a new music style. Go to a concert or buy a CD or itunes of someone you have never heard of. If it sucks, ah well. But if its good, you have a new band to listen to. Good times.

1-Get drunk before noon. On a random Sunday morning, wake up and do a bunch of shots and drink some beers. Doesn’t matter if you‘re by yourself or with some friends, just get shitfaced. Laugh a ton. Go to the grocery store and slur your speech. Make a fool of yourself. Pass out at one PM and dream nice drunk dreams.

If you try these ten things, hopefully you’ll get out of the doldrums. If not, try drugs. That seems to work.

Hamburglar

Being poor sucks. Being hungry sucks. Being poor and hungry sucks a ton. Being poor, hungry and having your last meal stolen from you by a dog sucks the most.

When my friend Kyle was student teaching, he had about five dollars to last him all week for food. What did Kyle do with that five dollars? He bought 5 99 cent cheeseburgers from Wendy’s of course!

It was a genius idea. He would eat a hamburger a day for 5 days. Not exactly nutrious but it works.

He kept the burgers in our fridge, where he would take his dinner with us every night. Friday, after a long day of dealing with teenagers, he dragged himself into our house and microwaved his meal for the night. He had the worst day of his young teaching career. He openly wondering if God was punishing him for all the bad things he had done in his life.

Kyle put the burger down on the table and went to go get a glass of water.

This is when my old dog Sammy came ran into the room. Sammy (God rest her fat soul) was the biggest, fattest, most out of shape dog ever. She was really a pathetic creature, who only lived to eat. She loved hamburgers. Loved ‘em.

Kyle wasn’t watching Sammy but I was. It was like Sammy had been planning this caper for the whole week, studying Kyle’s eating habits and ways, waiting for the right moment. It was time.

Sammy ran into the room, jumped up to the table and pulled the hamburger out of the wrapper in one motion. It was the most graceful move that fat old Sammy ever made. Maybe of all dog time.

Kyle walked back in as I was dying of laughter. The look on his face was priceless. He was heartbroken, angry and hungry all at the same time.

I went and took Kyle to get a new burger on me, and I even bought him some fries for the trouble. It was a costly 2 dollars plus tax for me (who was also broke and hungry). But man it was worth it to see the look on his face and to hear him blame God for his bad luck.

How I broke my arm

---Don't try this at home. Please.

My parents have never heard the truth to how I broke my arm. I told them I broke it playing basketball, which is a partial truth. I was sort of kind of playing basketball. If you count jumping off a table to dunk as playing basketball than yes I was playing basketball.

When I was 15, I was with some friends shooting hoops inside a Mormon church (if you didn’t know this, every Mormon church has an indoor basketball hoop) when some one (probably me) had the genius idea to jump off a table so that we could dunk. At the time, it was a Eureka moment to end all Eureka moments. Why didn’t we think about this earlier!?

The first couple of times we attempted dunks, the table was right next to the rim, the degree of difficulty small and the chances of getting hurt were very slim. But then I had a great idea, why don’t we get running start, jump off the table from much further away and make some monster slams? Again, a great idea at first, but a really bad idea in retrospect.

I thought I could get a running start like the Phoenix Suns mascot the Gorilla, run from one side of the court to the other and slam that baby down. Which I did, actually. It was a pretty impressive run, table plant and jump, and not a bad dunk… but here’s where the problem came in…

I had so much forward momentum from the run across the court that I felt the rim giving out. I didn’t want to break it, since we were in a church, we would have to explain how our little white selves broke a ten foot rim. So I let go of the rim… another bad idea.

My momentum sent my feet out, stretching my body parallel to the ground. I landed on my left side, or more specifically, my left hand. The break somehow made my finger tips touch my forearm, bending in a way I knew was not supposed to happen and was most definitely bad for me.

As I lay there on the ground, one friend counted out like a boxing ref, giving me a ten count as I yelled in pain. That fucking jerk. Anyway…

I went home that night and showed my arm to step dad and told him that I fell down playing basketball. He said that it was probably just strained, even though it was clearly three times its normal size and I wasn’t able to move any fingers. I would normally go to my mother for help on stuff like this by my mom wasn’t supposed to get home until the next morning from a night work trip.

That night, I didn’t sleep a wink. I was seething with pain and anger, take me to the freaking hospital already!

The next morning, I laid on the couch bleary eyed when my mom came home. As soon as she saw my arm, we went to the doctor, who confirmed my thoughts that my arm was broken (and threw in a few torn ligaments for the trouble) and then gave me the fun pleasure of resetting my arm, which had already started to heal back together the wrong way. There’s no fun like breaking growing bones.

My doctor found it hard to believe that I broke my arm that badly from falling during a game. I stuck by my story, even though it was a lie. Why did I? I don’t know. Why do kids lie when they are younger? Fear that you will be grounded. That’s it pure plain and simple.

I hated having the cast on and I missed a ton of basketball games because of my arm. I eventually cut it off myself like a young idiot, so that I could play ball. My arm healed back wrong so now my left wrist has a big bumpy bone instead of a smooth one. Serves me right. I shouldn’t have lied. Now I have a physical reminder of it.

World’s Worst Comedians

Where have you gone Richard Pryor?

When my girlfriend asked me to check out her friend’s first attempt at stand up comedy, I figured how bad could it be. I had no idea that it would be one of the most uncomfortable nights in recent memory.

New Year’s Night (aka the night you try to get over the worst hangover of the year) we went to the Comedy Store for this amateur stand up night. I’d had actually been to this event once a couple months ago and it wasn’t too bad. It was certainly entertaining enough and only a few people bombed.

But New Year’s night was different. I don’t know if all the comedians were still drunk (or on Crystal Meth like one comedian) but damn, it was tough to sit there.

For the first time in years, I was so embarrassed for other people that it made me feel embarrassed.

The host of the event bombed terribly, I couldn’t tell if what she was trying to say was even comedy at all, just really boring stories. If the host bombs, that’s a bad sign. It was the harbinger of terrible things on the horizon. One after one, each person took a shit on the stage. One guy (the Crystal Meth guy) could have very easily been a homeless guy they pulled off the street and asked to say a few words to us about how shitty his life was.

Two comedians stood out in my mind. The first one was so nervous, he was trying to read jokes off of note cards that he laid on the floor. His comedic delivery to us the audience was like Osama Bin Laden telling American jokes to Congress. By the end of his act, he was literally fighting off tears to get through it all. Ouch. It made me feel like crying just watching him.

The second guy got on stage and didn’t say a word. For six minutes. Six minutes of silence, staring at this crazy child molester looking guy. It was so awkward that it hurt my face and brain. There were a few uncomfortable laughs, but for the most part, no one said a word.

And this event was never ending, my girlfriend’s friend told us to be there early and then he didn’t go on until 3 hours later. 3 hours of excruciatingly bad comedy; nails on the chalk board of comedy.

Finally when my girlfriend’s friend did his thing I was ready to slit my wrists to end the agony. The friend wasn’t too bad but in comparison to those other acts, he could have punched me in the nose and it would have been funnier than the other comedians.

After the friend ended, I ran out of the room before another act could step up. As I left, I passed by a well known stand up guy who was working the real stage next door. I wanted to beg him to go the amateur night and teach, but I knew it was futile. You can led a camel to water, but you can’t get it to be funny.

Holiday Recap and Resolutions

So, maybe Christmas only partly sucks. It was nice to have a break and relax for a couple of days before I get hit with another wall of adult problems and responsibilities. When I woke up today and realized I had to go to work, it was like someone punched me in the stomach. Man, can’t I get paid to clean my apartment and hang out? That’s not a job? It is to me.

In the epic game for balance in the value of giving and receiving, I only lost by a couple hundred dollars, taking me from poor to super poor. I have a shit load of credit card stuff to pay off, leading me to the need for a shitty second job. Yep, a second job. I feel like I’m a single mom or something. What the fuck? I have two degrees people! Why do I need to wait tables to survive? Fucking LA, this wouldn’t happen any place else (except San Fran, NY, and London).

Because of my lack of funds and other factors, I’m starting a top ten list of new year’s resolutions and posting them here so that you can nail me on them when I don’t follow through.

1- Spend less money. Sounds easy enough right? I wish.

2- Get a second job. I hate this one.

3- Get a new real job. Hopefully one that pays enough so that I don’t have to have the second job.

4- Get Tag, my short movie, into as many film festivals that I can.

5- Run. A lot. I told my sister I would run a half marathon at the end of the year. I guess I’ll have to figure out how to run period, let alone for a bunch of miles.

6- Play more guitar. I’m excited about this one.

7- Sell a script. Don’t know if this one could happen or not.

8- Pay off my credit card. (see second job).

9- See my nephew as much as possible, while he’s still too cute to piss me off.

10- Write more blog entries.

There they are. I hope that you all had a super fantastic xmas and new year. Tons of love and keep reading!