Tidal waves of updates -- trickles of meaningful content.

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    Sunday, September 28, 2003


    I ended up staying at Dr. Phil until 5 AM last night. Mainly because I just wasn’t tired at 3AM, and figured I would probably just come home and stay awake for another few hours anyway, so why the hell shouldn’t I get paid to do that? So I lost some sleep and got 25 bucks for my trouble. Fair trade. Kind of.

    Of course, the last hour and a half or so of my time spent there was more spent doing research on how to put passwords on my wireless network, adding even more things to my Amazon wish list, and, of course, scanning for jobs. I ended up sending my resume out another four or five times last night and this morning, and hopefully come Monday I’ll be getting some follow-up calls.

    I need a new job. I want to have normal hours and steady pay. I want to be able to see my roommates. I want to be able to go out once in a while. I want to get back to having one of those “traditional” sleep cycles. I don’t think that’s too much to ask, do you? I’d also like a helicopter, while you're at it.

    Since it’s now officially fall, I’m starting to get that autumn wanderlust that strikes every year. My body demands more of a seasonal change than it simply getting darker earlier. So, I found a website for the Apple Orchard Industry (and yes, such a thing does, surprisingly, exist), and I found a town two hours east of L.A. that’s known for it’s numerous apple orchards and farms and other great things I miss from New England. I should be visiting pretty soon. I thought it was all just desert out there, but hey, California’s full of surprises, right? Or is that Connecticut’s new state slogan? I don’t know. I know that both states have Native American Casinos, but only Connecticut actually makes money off of them. These are things you learn in the recall election.

    I actually saw one of the more prominent candidates for governor on the street the other day. I was coming back from a quick Target run and I was stopped at a light pretty close to our apartment. I looked to the left of me, and saw the candidate stepping out of an expensive-looking sportscar. I did a double take. I squinted. I watched carefully as he deposited some change in the parking meter. His name? Gary Coleman. My impressions? He’s taller than I expected. Honestly.

    It pains me. PAINS ME. But I will not be voting in the California recall election. Believe me, I really want to. I’ve always taken voting and politics very seriously – the first thing I did on my 18th birthday was go down to the town hall to register to vote. But right now, it’s just too dangerous for me to do so. With me currently driving around L.A. with Connecticut plates, there is a possibility that I could be pulled over and asked if I’m a California citizen. If I am, I’d have to pay a fine and register my car in California, which would not only be a huge hassle, but also a big hit to my wallet, with registration fees, having to come off my parents’ insurance, etc. Right now, since I did technically spend more time on the East Coast this year than I have here, I can say I’m only here for seasonal employment, and I’m still a resident of Connecticut. But if I register to vote, then there’s a paper trail, and I don’t feel like going to federal prison just to keep Arnold out of office. So, to keep my political conscience all right, I made a small contribution to the Dean campaign instead. Now I can sleep a little better at night.

    I’ve got a new idea for a personal project. I want to get a digital camera and try to take pictures of as many California scenic highways as I can. I was looking online (at work, of course), and there’s little clips and maps of all the scenic highways and byways, and they all look amazing. I had such a great time driving to San Francisco by myself last year, and saw such incredible scenery that I think it’d be worthwhile for me to get out and check some of this land out. Things I need for this – a job that lets me take weekends off; a digital camera. Who wants to buy me one? Enh? Refurbished for $130 or so? Enh?

    Oh well. Worth a shot. Until then, Joey has had a very fine idea for some web-based creative work, and has invited me to join him. I guess we’ll be finding out how plausible it is soon, but I’m pretty excited about it. More info soon. Until then, I’m at work, watching footage of an empty room. Not soon enough, I will drive home and crawl into bed, where I will most likely sleep until Tuesday.
    posted at 1:38 AM

    Thursday, September 25, 2003


    Well, of course, the Atmosphere in-store was excellent, as is the new CD. And also, of course, I ended up buying two other CDs (both used! Yes!) – The Decemberists’ “Castaways and Cutouts” and the Mull Historical Society’s “Us.” Add to this my recent rediscovery of Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci’s “How I Long To Feel That Summer In My Heart,” and that’s a whole lot of great music. And a whole lot of obtuse indie music names, too.

    And thus continues the latest chapter in my ever expanding book, “What I Spend My Money On, That’s Not Things Like Clothes, Food, And Other Basic Things I Probably Need.” Even though we have nothing in our apartment right now, I’m already thinking of where I’m going to put my CD racks and bitchin’ stereo – neither of which I have, yet, of course. But I will someday, and it’s gonna look very impressive. I’ll put them right next to my computer desk and bookshelves, underneath the framed album covers I’ll put on my wall. Oh, money.

    I had my first major insomnia episode a few nights ago. After working until 3AM for Dr. Phil, I came back to Park La Brea and drove around for 45 minutes, unable to find a parking space. I asked the security guards if they would let me park on an empty open curb near my apartment, where I wouldn’t be blocking or obstructing anyone.
    The Guard: I don’t think I can do that.
    Me: There has got to be something you can do. Please, I’ve been driving for 45 minutes, and I just worked 10 hours. I just want to go to bed.
    Guard: Hold on, let me check.

    Here, the guard radioed to some sort of headquarters, and I heard over the intercom, someone say – “Tell the resident there’s plenty of parking on Sixth Street.” When the guard relayed that message to me, I said, “Yeah, I know, but there’s street cleaning tomorrow at 8AM. I work the night shift, and the only time I get to sleep is in the morning.”

    The guard then told me he could probably let me park on the curb, but I’d have to move my car when their shift ended. “Great,” I said. “When’s that?”


    I turned to walk away, saying, “Well, thank you for looking for me, but that doesn’t really help me at all.” Snappish, I know, and he didn’t deserve it, but somebody at Park La Brea certainly does. And since whoever decided it would cost almost $60 a month to get a reserved space wasn’t around, the security guard got it.

    So I parked, went inside, and got ready for bed. Then I couldn’t sleep, and wandered downstairs to the dining room until 6AM, where at least I managed to get some writing in. Then I slept until 7:45, got up, stumbled to my car to move it, and weaved back inside my apartment. Needless to say, I don’t really remember much of the day.

    But right now, it’s a lot better. I got some writing done, I sent out some resumes, picked up some good tunes, cashed some paychecks, and now I’m sitting on my couch, watching some Adult Swim, and typing this thing out. I’m not online yet, though, because UPS is the fucking slowest shipping system in the world. And has anyone ever tried to use their online tracking system? Because that’s a piece of crap, too. All it tells you is that your order has a “departure scan” from four days ago. And that’s all you’ll know until after you actually get the package. What’s the point?

    Ah well, I’m not going to expound on that, ‘cause “Cowboy Bebop’s” on now. Then it some Don Quixote, new music, and hopefully bed. Tomorrow, my weekend in the middle of the week continues. What will happen?

    Probably nothing. I spent too much on CDs.
    posted at 1:28 AM

    Monday, September 22, 2003

    "...Professionals Are Trying To Work"

    Well, we finally finished painting the apartment this weekend, and it looks really wonderful. Now, all we need is furniture. And I need a real job.

    The transcription office at the good Doctor’s show, which has been pretty good to me thus far, is starting to move my hours to later in the early evening. Now, as this job is really only worthwhile if I work ten hours a day to get overtime, this means that to maintain the worthiness of this job, I would be staying at work until 4 or 5 in the morning. I don’t think I need to tell you that, for $7 an hour, that is 20 kinds of bullshit.

    That’s too bad, because I really like all the people that work there, and it’s really not that difficult a job. I even feel like Dr. Phil is giving advice to me, personally. But now that’s because when midnight rolls around and everybody else leaves, it’s just me and Dr. Phil.

    The job search should be much easier now that we have internet access in the apartment again. The cable guy came in earlier this week and set everything up, and we’re totally wired now. Again, we don’t have furniture, but God forbid we go without cable. Later on in the week, I should be getting all the equipment to set up a wireless network for the apartment. Have I done this before? No. Do I have any idea how to do this? A vague idea, probably. Am I excited about doing this? Oh, hell, yes.

    Getting the TV we’re using now was another little adventure. On a rare day off in the middle of the week, I drove down to Best Buy in Westwood and carefully selected a decent-sized TV set, making sure it was an affordable price and had plenty of inputs (for the GameCube, of course. Mom, when can we ship that out, hmm?) I took it into the parking lot and to my car, where I knew that there was enough room in my car to fit the TV set. Unfortunately, I failed to take into account the awful design of the entryways into my car, none of which were wide, long, or tall enough to fit the TV box through.

    So, there I sat, stranded in the Best Buy parking lot, people walking by and chuckling at my admittedly comical attempts to force the TV box into my car. I was there for about 2 hours until Ken came to my rescue with his roomy SUV. SUVs, man. You spend so much time cursing them for blocking your view on the road and guzzling gas, and then you need one to help you move something. Go figure.

    I took some time out (on the way to work) to give a call to The Captain and Melissa, who just got engaged. I sent them my congratulations and talked to the Captain for a little while, which was great, of course. It also, unfortunately, jacked up my CD Wish List quite a few notches. This is what happens when two CD nerds talk. Beware.

    On Wednesday, I will be going to my very first rap concert. I want you to take some time to fully appreciate that image. Done? OK. The well-stocked but sometimes expensive Amoeba Music on Sunset will be featuring an in-store performance by Atmosphere, an indie rap outfit from Minneapolis my little brother got me into. Not only are the music and lyrics surprisingly literate and complex (and the new CD sounds great, too), but it is very cool that my brother likes indie music, but is not a hipster asshole. Runs in the family. I just hope when I go to the in-store, I will be able to restrain myself from spending too much on other CDs.

    Also, congrats to the Daily Show for its 2 new Emmys. You guys deserve a ton more.

    Now, I'm off to my shitty job.
    posted at 4:48 PM

    Wednesday, September 17, 2003

    Swingers' Club Explained

    In what has been probably the one event to happen in my town where I'd actually want to be around while it happened, the Swingers' Club Sting, which my father was awesomely a part of, is now making HEADLINES around the country. Or the internet, at least.

    Just in case my comments system isn't working, which it probably won't be now that I want it to work, Joey alerted me to this story, which is amazing if only for the line "More Arrests Expected." That means that this is going to go on for a long time, and hopefully shame some prominent Berlin citizens in the process.

    More info when I get it. How exciting!

    posted at 8:26 PM

    How To Tell It's Getting Late At "Dr. Phil"

    I continuously rewind and review footage of a bratty toddler. He knocks over a pile of laundry. His mom yells. He knocks it over again. His mom yells. She picks him up and takes him out of the room.

    The mom goes back in the bathroom, and the kid wanders in again. He starts toward the pile of laundry, and his mom yells. He responds with his own yell. He sits on the floor and hits the floorboard, yelling. He gets no response and does it again. Still no response, he sits still.

    Then, for no reason, and without warning, he slowly topples forward, keeping perfectly rigid, landing straight on his head. He quietly says, "Oh!"

    I laugh my ass off, hit rewind, and watch it again.

    Babies are amazing physical comedians.
    posted at 1:41 AM

    “6th Street? We Love It!”

    It has been a long time, no? I’ve got more excuses, but it’s more of the same – the no internet, the busy-ness, the moving, the ants. You know the drill. You do it, too.

    I quit my telemarketing fundraising job last Sunday. It was wonderful. Not necessarily the actual act of quitting, but knowing that I would never have to go back there ever again. I figured out my last day of working there that the commission structure was very unfair and difficult. I could spend 15 minutes talking to a single person, persuading them to donate, listening to their life stories, using all of my sales knowledge and “skill” to get them to donate, and if they didn’t put it on a credit card or give more than they did last time, I wouldn’t get anything. Compared to my other telemarketing jobs, with high hourly wages or generous commission structure based on percentages of what the customer paid, this one was total bullshit. I figured I’d make more money, more easily just doing overtime with Dr. Phil.

    I will miss a few minor things from the job, though. Mainly, getting to hear people’s stories. Some of the thing I’ve heard there were really, honestly inspiring. One of the last great people I talked to was this elderly, but still active woman who lived out in the wilds of rural California. I was calling for the DNC, and she said she’d registered as a Democrat right after she heard one of FDR’s radio speeches. We talked for a long time and when we both said it was a pleasure speaking to each other, we really meant it. But little moments like that were few and far between, and were definitely not worth the rest of the crap the job made me deal with.

    The other big news was that the production companies behind the Comedy Central show kept calling me back. I ended up working four days this week (four very, very long days), and had a great time making runs all over Los Angeles, setting up the industry wrap party, and helping dismantle their temporary offices. What was especially great about it was that everyone involved in the show, from the production coordinator to the costume designer to the producers and actor/writers, were not only great to work for, but great for noticing Ken and I and taking the time to personally thank us. I really hope the show gets picked up and they’ll take me back – not just because it’d be a great job with steady pay, but also because it’s honestly a group of people I’d love to work with again.

    Also, for all of you who have disparaged my love of wine in the past, I will have you know that I was able to have a lengthy discussion with the CEO of the main production company about wine. He was surprised I could actually have a conversation about it, and even more surprised that we both liked the same zinfandels – the cheap ones that are as good as the expensive ones. So, I say to you all, in my most erudite tones I can possibly muster, “nya, nya, nya.”

    So all that stuff is what’s been taking up the majority of my time lately. The rest of my time has been devoted to very slowly moving in to the apartment, made much more slow by the ants and the Park La Brea exterminators, who didn’t show up on Monday, didn’t come in the house on Thursday, and then came in the house but only did one room on Friday. I sassed the people in the office out on Saturday morning, of course, and last night when I came home, it looked like they might have sprayed in the apartment, but there isn’t any way we can tell for sure. Oh well.

    Besides that, we’re working on the indoor paint job, which looks really nice so far. If we didn’t have to keep moving stuff around for the exterminators all the time, we’d probably be done by now. Yeah. I’m a little miffed about that. It’s going to look great when we’re all done, which at this rate might be by next May. I’ll take pictures when we’re all set.

    The furniture front is still looking a little sorry, though. We’re trying to work on it, but IKEA, for all its wonderful benefits, certainly isn’t helping us out at all. For the past three weeks, I’ve been trying to buy an “Aneboda Wardrobe” there, because there isn’t enough space in the tiny closet for all of Aimee’s and my things. As you may remember, the last attempt to snag this wardrobe ended in me driving back and forth through Los Angeles County to try to find one of the three remaining wardrobes, only to find that they had all been sold in the 30 minutes it took me to get from Carson to Burbank. For some reason, IKEA won’t let you put a hold on items over the phone, so when you find out something’s available, you literally have to drop everything you’re doing to run to the nearest IKEA store.

    Last night, when I got out of work, I had a voicemail from Rachel, who, just moments before, had discovered that there were 2 wardrobes at the Burbank store. I hopped on the highway, promptly got lost (I fool heartedly assumed that when two major interstates hit an interchange, one would be able to choose to go either north or south, not be forced to go south), but somehow made it to Burbank with time to spare. Of course, when I ran inside to the aisle where the wardrobe should be, I found it empty, and, after asking a clerk to check for me, found out they had run out. For a company that touts its efficiency so much, you’d think they’d have a better way to do this. Or maybe I just don’t know that “Anaboda” means “Challengingly Elusive” in Swedish.

    Have I told you recently that we now have fleas in the apartment? Not a lot, but enough to cause us some moderate irritation. And by “us,” I of course mean “me,” as once again I’m the one the insects seem to enjoy zeroing in on. I wish I knew what made them do that. Until then, I’m going to start wearing a suit made entirely of cedar blocks.

    And finally, the last internet interview I will do for a long time, this one courtesy of the newly blogged Captain.

    1. Would you really take any job related to TV (even Whoopi)?

    In short, yes, I would take any job related to TV. Because a résumé will only get you so far. Not very far, apparently. Then it’s all about who you know and where you’ve worked before. So even if the show was shitty, and the job was a nothing job that didn’t even require a college education, I would take it. I would not, however, work on Whoopi because it’s shot in New York for some reason, and I don’t want to have to move again for a long, long time.

    2. What do you value more - work or family (i.e. could you see yourself throwing yourself into your career at the cost of your seeing your loved ones)?

    I’ve probably already answered that question just by moving to Los Angeles, far, far away from most of my family and friends. I don’t know if I could say which one I truly value more, though. L.A. is nice and all, but I can think of at least 10 other places I’d much rather be living in, but I don’t know if I’d be as happy if I wasn’t working in a non-entertainment field. So this one’s a toss-up.

    3. What are your thoughts on a Slow Kids 10th anniversary extravaganza?

    It’s going to be great, whatever it is. It would have to be an extra show, done before that year’s regular Spring show, probably, so we wouldn’t take up too much time at their show, and it would also be a good promo for them. We’d all have to have a lot of conversation beforehand, to decide which sketches we wanted to do, and who had to be re-cast if anyone couldn’t make it. We would rock the show, rock the after-party, and then spend the entirety of the next day lounging around in Zaftig’s, swapping stories and impressing the new class.

    4. If you made it, would you try to bring your friends as well?

    First, I’d have to probably help out all the people who have been helping me out so far. After that, I’d do whatever I could to help out friends who wanted to get a start out here.

    5. What were your proudest and most humbling Slow Kids moments?

    There are a lot of sketches and combat plays I’m very proud of, and a few moments on stage, too. But I’d have to say I’m most proud of reorganizing the group administratively and structurally over my last three years in the group, especially placing a significantly stronger emphasis on writing, with hard scripts, rewrites, etc. I think the kind of people who are in Slow Kids have already got the talent, but with that extra writing polish, you can really see something great come out. I still think the group could use a full-time director, but that’d take someone more selfless than I could ever be.

    As for humbling moments, is there really such a thing for Slow Kids? Probably the first couple times Ghengis shot down some of my ideas, but after that, I just developed a thick skin about it, and then I really enjoyed working with him.

    posted at 12:06 AM

    Saturday, September 13, 2003

    Just A Quick Little Something

    'Cause I'm at Dr. Phil right now. Speaking of which, the first Weight Loss Challenge shows are going to air on Monday or Tuesday. I don't know how they're going to be, but they look pretty good in the editing room so far. Check 'em out, and see what's up.

    I just found out David Byrne's releasing a soundtrack CD in a few weeks. He's working with a bunch of Scottish musicians (including a few members of Belle and Sebastian), and I'm excited.

    Here's a quiz result:

    indie prick
    you are either a record nerd or not a scenester at
    all. you are the coolest of the bunch. bravo,

    what type of lame scenester are you?
    brought to you by Quizilla

    I'll post more on Tuesday. That's the next time I'm working here, and will have internet access. I've got a lot to say.

    ***Hot Item*** My dad busted a swingers' club in my hometown. Yes, my hometown has a swingers' club. Now, we've got to try to get them to bust the brothel in the center of town.
    posted at 8:01 PM

    Sunday, September 07, 2003

    IKEA Hillbillies And Employment Rollercoasters

    Several things have kept me from updating this at the pace I’d like to have been doing over the past week or so. First of all, Aimee and I packed up all our things and moved on back to Park La Brea, where we now reside in a very nice little “Garden Townhome” with our friend Rachel. Very nice, but also very empty, as none of us had furniture, and none of us can really afford to buy furniture right now. Thus, right after we all got our stuff inside the doors, we immediately checked out an IKEA catalog and marked down what we wanted to get. Rachel was planning on getting a new bed and offered to let us throw stuff in her shipping order to save some money. All was going according to plan.

    We went to the IKEA in Carson, meandered through the entire store, and bought a shitload of stuff, also making sure to take advantage of a special 10% off sale for one day only. I even splurged and picked up a very reasonably priced full bed, very much looking forward to getting off that air mattress. Unfortunately, they had everything except the mattresses, and I don’t know if you know this, but bed frames are pretty uncomfortable to sleep on without them. The mattresses were the main thing we wanted to ship, so we decided to pile everything we had into my car, then drive to the IKEA in Burbank and get the mattresses shipped to us from there. This was a very poor decision.

    When we went to pick up all of our efficiently-boxed furniture, we were surprised to find that most of it would be too large to fit in my car, let alone fit in my car with three people inside. So, after probably a half an hour of packing, stuffing, tying and securing, we managed to fit everything in the trunk, back seats, and several items on the roof of my car. Then we realized we had tied the doors shut. No problem – we could get in the windows. Then we realized the windows were mostly closed. No problem – we could reach in and unroll them. Then we realized I had power windows. Then we panicked.

    Utilizing the incredible physique one can only achieve by completely eliminating one of the major food groups, I bent my wiry arm in and around the steering wheel, where I managed to turn on the car and roll down the windows. The three of us literally climbed in and wedged ourselves into the front seat. I put on the hazard lights and pulled into the parking lot.

    The next two or three hours were spent driving through Los Angeles streets at 20 miles per hour, drawing the surprised and shocked looks of our fellow drivers. Although now that I think about it, those shocked expressions may have been from my use of hand signals when we were turning or changing lanes. The one thing I learned from Boy Scouts, ladies and gentlemen. Good times, good times. Actually, it was a really awful time, but we did manage to get home with our furniture and ourselves on one piece.

    At this point, you might be asking yourself why I was buying furniture when I’m always complaining about being broke. Well, first off, we need furniture. Second, I really thought I was getting a job this week. One of the writers’ assistants from “Malcolm” got me an interview for the personal assistant of the higher ups at the company that produces “Malcolm” and “Bernie Mac.” I went in and nailed the interview, and was asked to write some coverage on an upcoming episode of “Bernie Mac.” I stayed up late, calling out of work to write the best damn coverage I ever did. Even the “Malcolm” people were impressed. I sent it in, mailed a thank you card, and waited.

    The days went on, and as a week approached, I had a sinking feeling, but I buried it in the back of my mind. After a week, I called back. The gist of the conversation was that I had written, “by far, the best coverage (she) had read in a long time.” It was “smart, sharp, and constructive,” and she was “honestly impressed.” Of course, that was then followed by “But we decided to go with someone else, unfortunately.”

    I thanked her once again for the interview and hung up the phone, completely floored. This was now the fourth or fifth interview I’ve had where the interview lasted an hour or more, everyone seemed to like me, and I’d gotten the call back / heard that I was really great and extremely qualified, but that they were going with someone else.

    By this point, I was no longer disappointed. I was pissed off. I mean, I know that things can be pretty weird out here in Hollywood, but I certainly didn’t get the memo that industriousness, intelligence, and a passion for work were now to be considered negative qualities. I’m telling anyone who’s coming out here, now – trying to get a job isn’t annoying. It’s not even frustrating. It’s revolting, is what it is. So be prepared.

    If I’ve hit a low point since I’ve been out here, it would have to have been Thursday. Getting that news really floored me, more so than any rejection I’ve had so far. For almost four months now, I’ve been coming within inches of getting a job, only to be rejected at the last minute for qualities a logical person would hire me for. So yeah, I was pretty down in the dumps for a while.

    I did get a phone call from the writers’ assistants at “Malcolm” later on in the day, who gave me a much-needed pep talk and said they found out that the position was narrowed down to me and one other guy, and that they only hired the other guy because he had more experience and they were in the middle of production right now. It still sucks, but that’s a pretty understandable reason. Then I thought about how amazing it was that I was getting pep talks from the writing staff of an award winning show. I started running down all the things I’ve done so far that most people never get to do or experience, and I started – just slightly – to feel better about what I was doing.

    Former Slow Kid Meets Former Kid In The Hall

    The next morning, through situations and contacts too complex and bizarre to explain, I landed a one-day P.A. job for the taping of a new show executive produced by Dave Foley, of Kids In The Hall fame. When I found out it was a sketch comedy show, I was excited. When I heard the talents’ British accents, I was more excited. When I saw a prop piece sign that read “Beach Closed: Dandies,” I knew something great was about to happen. And it did.

    I started the long day just helping out, and meeting the production office staff, and when they said they probably needed one more person, I called in B.U. L.A. Program alum Ken Bukowski. We fucking rocked the house as P.A’s and did some fine networking. Networking. Gotta love it.

    Or, you don’t. I actually hate networking, but you should know there are two kinds. The first, nasty kind, is characterized by people slithering up to other people at parties and gatherings, slipping them a business card, making a few slimy remarks, and walking on to the next potential victim. Very opportunistic, very cold, very shitty. The second form of networking, which is the one I use with the gallant hope that it will work someday, consists of me just doing a good job and meeting people through casual conversation – nothing forced, and nothing with an ulterior motive. This is what Ken and I did on Friday, and it netted us several business cards from Comedy Central, a few more from the production company that produced the show, and we’ve also got a date to go back on Monday to drop off some résumés. Not only do I not feel dirty doing networking this way, but I’d also genuinely like to work with these people again, and I get the feeling they think the same about me.

    Oh, also, everyone should watch out for the show “The Hollow Men” on Comedy Central. It should be premiering in November, and it is fucking hilarious. It’s like a modernized, slightly Americanized Monty Python – it’s silly, smart, base, and dark. Very excellent, seriously tight sketch comedy – by far the best on TV right now. So spread the word and hopefully the pilot will get good ratings, the show will get picked up, and I’ll get an awesome P.A. job when it goes into full production. Then we can all pray it won’t go the way of that other excellent Comedy Central sketch show, “Upright Citizens’ Brigade.”

    Honor From Afar

    I recently got the heads up that Boston University’s Stage Troupe had chosen not one, but TWO SlowKid-penned plays for their greatest hits / hall of fame whatever for Combat Theatre. For those who don’t know, Combat Theatre works like this – you get a few groups of actors, a few writers, and a few directors together. The writers have 12 hours to write a 15 minute play, then they hand it over to the directors and casts and they have 12 hours to rehearse before putting the plays on in front of a live audience. It’s a lot of fun to do, and it’s very rewarding to see an audience’s reaction to something you’ve written from an actual seat in the audience instead of on stage. I’m very proud to say that the two plays I was involved in – “Last Man On Earth” (about the last man on Earth, who happens to be a raging sexist asshole, and the women unlucky enough to find themselves around him) and “Race Car: A Play For All Seasons” (an office screwball murder comedy with an odd affinity for palindromes) – were selected. I don’t know how the new productions were, but both of the original productions were amazing. Great casts.

    “Race Car” is, I think, one of the best things I’ve ever contributed to. I’m still very proud of it, and it’s still funny on paper even over a year later. “Last Man,” is hysterical, too, but that one was more of the Captain and Hemlock’s baby than mine. If anyone out there has a script for “Last Man,” I’d love to have it. Hemlock, I’m looking at you. And if anyone out there would like to read “Race Car,” let me know and I’ll see what I can do for ya.

    Another Ant Invasion

    While working on the Paramount Lot, I passed by some of the old set pieces from “Andy Richter Controls The Universe.” I miss that show. That’s all I have to say about that.

    I managed to stay 10 and a half hours transcribing for Dr. Phil’s upcoming “Ultimate Weight Loss Challenge” special. I would have stayed longer, but it would have violated some labor laws or something, so I had to leave early, but you should all also keep an eye out for this series of shows later in September. I worked my ass off on these tapes, trying to pull good sound bites and footage with the editors, and I think the shows are going to be very good. Funny, but also very moving. Also, watch out for Judith. She’s a riot.

    So anyway, I came home early last night, whipped out the ol’ laptop and started to write. Aimee’s in Mexico with the “Reba” crew, and I didn’t know Rachel was home, so it was just me in the barren living room. Little did I know I had company – thousands of running, annoying company.

    Ants, once again, have entered into my living space. More ants than I’d ever seen in my life were all over every inch of our kitchen, making a bee-line for a box of croutons I’d just opened the day before. When Rachel came downstairs and we opened the cabinet, the entire inside seemed to be alive. Ants everywhere. Absolutely disgusting.

    Rachel and I tag-teamed the ants with Windex and Raid, and after a good half-hour of wiping, spraying, and smacking, we managed to subdue most of the ants. Luckily, Rachel had called Park La Brea exterminators earlier in the day because of another ant infestation in our bathroom and her closet, so hopefully they’ll get here today or tomorrow and take care of the problem once and for all … or at least for a few months.

    Rachel also said she thought she saw a flea on her dresser, which would probably explain the itchy bites I’ve gotten recently on my hands and feet. God, what is it about Los Angeles? Why has it shat upon all the good parts of nature while allowing the truly awful to survive?

    And Finally …

    To all those who know, this piece of information I just found out from Rachel will be amazing:
    Glasses Man was roommates with The Shredder.

    And now … please discuss how perfect this situation is.

    posted at 7:31 PM

    Wednesday, September 03, 2003

    Not Dead Yet

    I just don't have internet access because I just moved. I'm also busy working. I swear, I'll have an update soon. There's a lot to tell.

    But still no word on jobs.
    posted at 11:28 PM