13 03 2008

Blah. I think I may have strep throat and I couldn’t think of a good title for this post so I thought I would write about something near and dear to me: procrasturbation. No, it’s not a synthesis of the two, it is merely the former, but in a definition sense, it is applicable to both. What is procrasturbation? It is wasting time and jagging off (not literally) to the thought of doing what one dares to dream without actually doing that.

Let me give you a little recap:

My writing partner (now former writing partner) and I had an idea and vowed to work our tails off on turning it into the world’s greatest spec screenplay. Months passed, we got good at outlining our idea and even when we hit some bumps in the road, we kept on chugging along. Over time, the project became increasingly difficult and when it came to writing the fucking thing, we were having “differences of opinion,” as I was too out of left field and my co-writer was, well, a pussy. After we had been hammering away for months, my co-writer just one day said “I am losing steam, you can have it.” This was a blessing in disguise as the idea was initially more mine than his, and I could tell for months that he was dreadfully unhappy just lacking the courage and necessary fortitude to tell me to my face that he was unhappy with decisions I had made. The day before he quit, I was talking to a friend about possibly buying him out and then BOOM, whaddya know, Deus ex Machina happens and he leaves the next day as I quite literally, got dumped.
If I sound bitter about this it is because I am and always will be, at least a little. My writing partner is a friend and colleague and he is back at it again with another partner. I wish him well, but I would be lying to you if I said I would be happy if he should succeed if I should not, or even before I should, or on an equal or greater level than myself. Part of me will always want to have written and sold the piece I am currently working on just to rub it in his face and one of the many things that buoys my spirits is the fact that my former writing partner has made every wrong decision a human being could make in one’s life. Of course, he still owns a percentage which we have agreed upon and I am more than happy to give it to him – in the event that it gets sold – as he did work very hard on our endeavor for about 6 months.
So here I am, with this massive project that I would say is about 55 pages of the way through its first draft. I have tons of notes, know where I want to go with it, have made incredibly large changes to the first act and thus, the entire nature of the project has shifted. But here I sit, with my computer, my Bossa Salad (3rd time this week) and a glass of wine, wondering how to get my ass off the pine and how to start just plugging away.
I am a perseverant person (and before you go quoting Ambrose Bierce and tell me how that is the quality of mediocre men) and I am a vengeful person — much like Eminem. I work at a job where I am not respected – sometimes for good reason – and aside from this project, I suffer from a lack of purpose. I can’t foresee myself working the same job in a year’s time, and I just surprised myself by remembering that today marks my one year anniversary of being in my current employ. I really lack the skills necessary to slog through the industry I am in, I know what I want to do, and know that I have the natural ability to do it, so fucking help me Readers! You know my email, AIM, phone number. Get all Bobby Knight on me and force me into action. Make me my own bitch and I promise you I will revel in your tough love. Help me…help myself, because if there’s one thing in this world I am good at, it is pointing out other people’s problems and telling them how to solve them; when it comes to myself, well I just suck.

If you listen to the band Paramore, kill yourself. Quit pretending you care that Patrick Swayze is dying, no one has mentioned his name in more than 10 years and the only person I know who has, told me a story about how C. Thomas Howell was doing a Q&A after a screening of a movie in which he costarred with the Swayze and Howell was hammered and just kept talking about how the Swayze was the biggest dbag on the planet. BSfuckingG comes back in less than a month and season 3 comes out on DVD in less than a week, in addition, March Madness is starting so please disregard everything I said today and get back to me in April. St. Patty’s Day is coming up so I feel I must tell you a couple of my father’s favorite jokes: “What’s the difference between an Irish wedding and an Irish funeral? Answer: one less drunk.” “What are the two shortest books ever written? Answer: ‘Who’s who in Ireland,’ and ‘Italian war heroes.'” The website is glorious. I bought 5 boxes of THIN MINTS girl scout cookies today. They are the most glorious food on the planet and I don’t know why those dumb little bitches don’t sell those things all year round. Do they worry about over-saturating the market? Do they think that the cost/benefit ratio would not ensure that young girls will grow up learning proper blowjob technique? Do they think those dingleberries from the cotillions will try and steal some of their recipes and come out with a similar product? I just don’t get it. I want thin mints all year round GODDAMNIT!!! If you stop by the Scientology booth at Hollywood and Las Palmas, just to even inquire…kill yourself. Black people must stop naming their children ridiculous things. Stop putting latin prefixes ex, le, de, la, da, ma, in front of normal names, this is not a musical scale, this is a word you will have to utter for the rest of your life that your child will have to live with so make it count. If anything, this is the #3 reason why Kobe and LeBron will never be as beloved or revered as Michael. Stop pretending that we care about the environment. I am just waiting for a scientist to invent something which, RESTORES OZONE. If you just woke up and now drive a hybrid, eat organic, and generally think your shit stinks less than mine because I take long showers, don’t recycle, smoke, use aerosol products, throw away plastic water bottles after I drink from them ONCE, would fly a private jet if I could afford it, and generally don’t give a shit about what happens cuz I have a plan, then you are delusional. Can’t squeeze the toothpaste back into the tube. Either you can realize that what has happened was avoidable and now irreversible, or you can rack yourself with guilt. Here’s what I am going to do: Find a mountain range in the middle of Northern Canada, learn how to fire a gun, learn some serious self-defense, keep a GAS-POWERED CAR, buy medical supplies and MREs in bulk, and me and mine will survive. If you like, I will help nail you to your cross while you wait for the biblical flood which will have come 12,000 years too late.




2 03 2008

It’s going to be a busy Sunday with lots to do. I have to spend a few hours on my script, learn to play a song on the guitar through a youtube tutorial, do a couple loads of laundry, possibly do some work (if I feel up to it) and exercise with my perfect pushups. So let’s get it started off right, with a post dedicated to my female audience. I am going to tell you some things that I have read about and experienced recently when it comes to women.

1) We don’t really care about your eyebrows so long as you have them: recently some ladies at my office were telling me about how they need to trim their eyebrows…why? This is a stupid white cultural thing as there are many girls in the world who don’t shave their eyebrows who look good, but are made to feel “butch” because they don’t tweeze. You know what’s really unpleasant looking? A woman with just a sliver of eyebrow as the surrounding area is usually discolored and in need of some lotion because it makes them look as though they’ve been burned in a fire.

2) Your breasts are not as important as you think, your ass and your legs are more important than you think: that is of course, unless you are EXTREMELY AMPLE CHESTED, or have no chest at all. In either case, these are outlying factors. The lower half of a woman is a really good indicator of how she’s built in general, and while big girls need love to, they certainly don’t need any more from me. AND THIS BRINGS ME TO ANOTHER POINT. There is a dichotomy in this country about what is good and what is healthy. There are those out there who would have you believe that being a “full-figured woman” is something of which to be proud. That your Mae West curves and voluptuous figure make you more attractive. While this is nice when it comes to bolstering self-esteem it can also be incredibly unhealthy and flat out wrong. There is nothing wrong with people telling you to be comfortable in your own skin, but if your own skin could supply shelter to a family of four were you to be skinned, then you should have low self esteem because you are fat – which is unhealthy – and therefore unattractive and biologically weaker than the rest of the skinny bitches who diet the right way: cocaine and booze. Be proud of your full-figure, but only after you consult your physician.

3) We want you to look good in the morning: this is really underrated and it is more an indictment of girls who wear too much makeup. This is just as off-putting as a girl who wears too much perfume. If you need to be painted up like a prostitute when you go out you are subconsciously letting us know that you don’t feel beautiful and in essence, you are trying to hide. In a sense, this is being dishonest and socially, it again shows you to be a weaker individual. Honesty is the best policy is a great mantra for all people, and if you want a long-term relationship (which is only natural), then not being deceptive about how you look is an important part of that. When we wake up next to you in the morning, and you look particularly frightening, we get the picture. Makeup should be used to accentuate your features, not conceal them.

***Of course, you could get makeup tattooed on your face like my housekeeper Sene. Hola Sene. For some, this is actually not a terrible idea and a lot more cost effective in the long-run***

4) You can’t dance either. I am a schlump on the dance floor but I don’t think I am a bad dancer in general. I am a relatively good athlete and I play a musical instrument, so for anyone to say I don’t have “rhythm” is just fucking stupid. Having said that, I don’t consider the bump n’grind of today’s club scene to be dancing; it’s a vertical molestation. I am not good at this because each one of you bitches has your own particular rhythm when it comes to the gyrating involved, there’s no form, function, or reason to your methods and you look incredibly stupid, which in turn, makes us look stupid as we try to keep up. I’d rather be a dancer like Chris Walken than Chris Brown. That’s not to say that some of you can’t dance. There are some people who are legitimately good at this, but while this is not an outliar as it is more commonplace, I just want you to know that you look just as bad, if not worse than do we engaging in this exercise, and at least our footwear isn’t killing us.

5) If you’re religious, wear a big no smoking sign around your groin. A big cross around your neck will suffice. A lot of men around this country catch a really bad STD which stays with you the rest of your life called “unwanted child.” I’d rather have herpes because at least that comes and goes. If you’re too religious to have an abortion than you’re too religious to have sex, or drink, or have any other vices which could be interpreted as your being an actually interesting individual. Now go back to your hymnal and wait for the rapture while your husband named Mitt impregnates you for a ninth time.

6) Just be polite and say ‘no thank you.’ It takes a lot of balls for a man to simply approach a woman and make her feel like you don’t want something from her. If you are in a bar and you approach a woman you are automatically in a position of weakness as she automatically knows you’re there to try and fuck her. Why else would a young man go to a bar? So if someone has the courage to approach you and is not jackass, if you are not interested, you don’t have to be a bitch, just be polite, and if they don’t get the hint just walk away.

7) It’s called “Sex Kitten” for a reason. I am soon going to do a post called “why cats are better pets than dogs,” and a big part of that has to do with the fact that cats won’t piss and shit on your carpet, but another big factor is that women closely mirror cats when it comes to natural behavior. Women can be seen as “catty” because that’s what you are and you know what, it drives us wild. I had two and a half cats growing up – one was like the redheaded stepchild who drowned in our pool – and even though Knips e morte, Rex and Tia live on. Tia is a quintessentially cute golden tabby with white paws and a white nose, and I also believe she pushed Knips into the pool on that fateful night. Tia is a bitch and a great cat at the same time. Whenever I want to spend time with her, she doesn’t want to spend time with me, but whenever I am sitting by the computer trying to do something, that’s when she wants to hang out. Dating and mating is like chess, and cats are really good at chess, dogs are good at checkers.

8) Don’t smoke cigarettes, it makes you age faster.

9) If you listen to the Clash, are okay with smokers, look good in a tank top and that type of underwear that is just the elastic band on the side and occasionally enjoy hallucinogenic drugs, I will sleep with you.