Tuesday, December 09, 2003


walk in the office.
make idle banter on elevator ride up to fourth floor.
turn on computer.
wash coffee cup. (more stylish than paper and reduces waste)
fill with coffee.
return to office.
turn on desktop computer.
take laptop out of bag, plug it in, turn it on.
check office email.
check personal email.
get more coffee.

Tuesday, November 25, 2003

battle of the bulge.

after a particularly inspired act of self loathing last night (eating at del taco), i pondered the blossoming relationship that my gut has been having with the top of my pants lately.

"i mean shit, i'm fairly active, why is this happening to me? how can i be gaining weight? is it time to do atkins again? i mean, what did i have for lunch, a small salad, right?"

i looked down at my tray--two taco wrappers, a quesadilla wrapper, a half-empty DIET coke, and two half-pound bean burrito wrappers. HALF-POUND x 2. do the math.

Monday, November 17, 2003

ye of great taste!

i know i've been sort of lacking lately in the updates section, it's generally been a procrastination activity, and i've been bizzy biz lately. i have a question though maybe if you could maybe answer it...

what is your home page when you start your internet browser? (your start page?) mine embarassingly enough is friendster. i'm stuck at 64. it's killing me.

Wednesday, November 12, 2003


so i'm home sick today, for the second day in a row. by sick, i mean really sick. i woke up at 1AM two nights ago feverish and hallucinating and spent the rest of the day in bed or running to the bathroom to take care of business. i couldn't look at a computer because focusing on type that small made me nauseous, much less go into work to finish up concepting for the big presentation later that day. today the fever is gone, but i'm still not close to 100%, so i'm home.

i'm home, it's raining, i'm watching pootie tang (holy shit, what a fucking funny ass movie, though people either love it or hate it), my computer is popping up little reminders of things i need to do today, and i realize that it's my friend bitchface's 30th birthday. (name withheld because really, it ain't none of your business). anyway, i can't go to her birthday party obviously because well, i'm peeing out my ass at inopportune times, i'm weak, i'm dizzy, the whole bit. whatever.

i call a local florist she's recommended in the past, and i don't really know what to order--well, it's a girl, it's her birthday, not poofy, more contemporary, maybe something in a bowl, oh yeah, please sign it "dear bitchface, happy birthday, sorry i can't make it tonight, love sx70"

after i hung up i started thinking about what sort of arrangement they might be putting together. did i give them enough info? are they going to resort to reading between the lines to figure out what to do? i mean, how many calls must they get from some dude giving vague direction as to what sort of flowers he's sending accompanied with a note that says "i'm sorry" somewhere in it? i felt like calling back and explaining that actually, i'm very sick and that's why i can't come out tonight, i'm not some jerk sending flowers because i fucked up. i mean, what if the girl at the flower shop was in a bad mood? i'm half expecting that they send some half-dead baby's breath at this point. bleh.

"Pootie Tang will draw you a picture of how he gonna kick your ass, then mail it to you ten days in advance. The picture gets there right? You're goin', "What the hell is this?" and then Pootie Tang knocks on your door, Promptly kicks your ass and you still won't know what happened to you!"

Monday, November 10, 2003

odi et amo

Odi et amo. quare id faciam, fortasse requiri. Nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.

Sunday, November 09, 2003

i played both parts in "the fool and i"

dammit. it's wet outside, which means the farmer's market will be a bust. i can't believe i'm even awake at 9:30. considering that i got home at 4am from a birthday party last night, you can see how herculean an effort this is. i think the aleve is starting to kick in though, so maybe it won't hurt to try to sleep anymore. maybe?

so yeah, last night i was at the sunset trocadero , which was cool i guess but really, sunset strip on a saturday night? maybe i'm getting too old but the strip and all it's various pains in the ass like traffic and $25 for parking is just kinda sorta ridiculous. i however, did manage to have a fabulous time with my friends despite myself and topped it off by shoveling korean food in my face at bcd tofu house) at like 2:30am.

anyway, it's sort of a relief that it's wet outside--i don't have to get up and put together a "just got out of bed but fucking hell if i don't look fabulous" farmer's market outfit. heh. yeah. i'm joking. seriously. it comes naturally, i don't have to premeditate it. HA! anyway, thank fuck i can just stay home and vegetate. try to sleep, sx. try to sleep.

Wednesday, November 05, 2003

the pendulum swings

i was standing at a bar in vancouver talking with someone about how much i was enjoying their city and whatnot, when they mentioned somethinig about "yes, but alcohol is very expensive here, and you have free-pour in the states" as they nodded at my drink, which i had to specifically ask (and pay for) a double shot of gin or vodka or whatever it was. to clarify, in the states, bartenders generally pour the liquor into the glass and estimate either by eyeballing it or by counting how much should go into a drink. in canada (and in strip clubs in the states--theoretically of course), they either have meters on the bottles or they pour the liquor into a shot glass before pouring into the drink, ensuring that they're not giving you a drop more than you pay for. i shrugged, thinking it was a small price to pay and probably in the long run didn't matter much.

last night, i went to the arsenal, which has been a local of sorts for me lately--and the first bar i'd been to since returning to the states. i got fairly loaded after three drinks. these were three free-poured happy hour drinks, which in total cost $9USD not including tip. it would cost much more than $9USD to get as "i can't drive anywhere for at least a little while" drunky as i got last night. compared to the watery crap they pass off as a cocktail in vancouver, maybe the states ain't so bad.

Sunday, November 02, 2003

a reason to move to canada.

the toyota echo hatchback kicks ass. in person, it's as cute if not cuter than the mini and without the hype and the markup, as well as being privity to lots of aftermarket stuff from trd and all the other import tuners, which should make it at least as zippy as the mini. AT LEAST. you'll have plenty of cash to get one as they start at around $12,000CDN, which is somewhere around $10,000USD. it's sold as the toyota yaris in europe and now in canada, but it's probably too much at odds with toyota's new youthful scion brand (the yaris/echo hatchback share the same platform) for us to get it here. it gets more than 40 MPG, and considering my newfound eco-friendliness (which you will hear about soon, i promise. i promise), it's looking mighty nice. c'est dommage.

oh well, i guess i'm stuck with ingrid (volvo v70) for now i guess, at least until i figure out how to get one of these fuckers into the country. oh, or until i move. i mean shit, who would ever take me seriously in this thing?


i'm back. seems like not much has changed here in LA in the 10 days i've been gone. my apartment is just as i left it, save for a dog-choking (i wish) pile of junk mail, credit card offers, and bills--it also looks like both the transit workers and the grocery workers are still on strike. there were still hot mamas in their sevens and contrived bedhead looks at the santa monica farmer's market today, and the weather was just absolutely gorgeous as always.

so i've been gone for 10 days and all i have to talk about is the weather? well yes I was in VANCOUVER for 10 days and let's just say (save for one rainy day) that the weather (albeit a little crisp) was BEAUTIFUL. breathing in nice clean air was awesome and the one thing i worried about the whole time was all the smoke and ash and whatnot i would have to deal with at home.

"oh, you're from LA, eh? pity about the fires, eh. well, enjoy the clean air while you can", almost every canadian said consolingly. this of course is after they asked if i was up in vancouver filming for something. in any case, it must have been some sort of divine nod to have the rain come to los angeles right before i returned to wash away all the crud. los angeles was just as i left it, still sprawling, still beautiful, and still smart enough to know that if i came back to a fiery stinkin' mess, i'd be audi 5000.

Friday, October 24, 2003


I'm Out Of Town. In Vancouver, actually. So while you may have read that as the Canadian pronounciation of the word "out", I actually meant it as an acronym of sorts.

Vancouver so far is pretty good. I'll try to update here and there but I'm already doing daily (sometimes more often) updates for the local AIGA chapter, so my blogging bandwidth is pretty much already taken.

Monday, October 20, 2003

on (almost) any sunday

almost any sunday i'm hanging out at the farmer's market on main street in santa monica. what's nice about this particular farmer's market is well, it's sunday morning and there's a nice grassy area to hang out at, lots of fresh produce and tchochkes, lots of good hot food prepared right there, ponies for the kiddies to ride, etc. it's just a fun little neighborhoody kind of scene, exactly what i was looking for when i moved to that side of town, with local merchants mixed in among the farmers' stalls.

this sunday i was there with a couple of friends stuffing my face with a savory crepe filled with brie, bacon, green onions, and egg and powering down large organic nicaraguan coffee from the local coffee roaster and watching the regulars do their thing. there is a usual cast of characters, the familiar merchants of course, the shaved-head woman who breast feeds her twins in public, the weird leather faced european woman who sort of walks back and forth screaming, the balloon-twister guy, and more importantly, lots of hot mamas. literally, like when did mommies get so hot? *drool*

Friday, October 17, 2003

when life gets in the way

when life gets in the way of blogging, well... we have problems. probably post this weekend maybe, but i'm pretty damn busy.

Tuesday, October 14, 2003

yes or no

torpor. torpor.

next on martha's kitchen: knitted kozys for your forties.

so i was up late last night watching the late late show with craig kilborn (whatever) because of course paul weller was on, and multitasker that i am, i was concurrently installing panther on my computer(s). anyway, whatever, the show finishes and i'm still working on the computers and whatnot and martha stewart's show comes on afterwards. whatever, i'm not watching at this point--it's just background noise, she's making tortilla casseroles and whatnot, i'm ignoring it, then all of a sudden she's making duct tape wallets. what the fuck? not only is she making duct tape wallets, but camo duct tape wallets. (!) i mean, i think of gutterpunks or crafty art school kids when i think of duct-tape wallets, not martha stewart omnimedia.

i guess when mainstream society co-opted skateboarding and snowboarding and all the other action sports, i should have known that the world was going to hell--times have sure changed. seriously, i can't imagine what it would be like to be in high school these days--when i was in school, you had your jocks and you had your skaters and you had your geeks. these days, there are literally more skateboarders than there are little league players, and it's at least as likely, if not more likely that someone will want to idolize tony hawk or mat hoffman or kelly slater and go home and play their signature videogame as much as they want to be derek jeter or kobe bryant or whoever. this is a good thing, for sure. however, the ridiculous "jock" attitude has crept into these other action sports, and that is a bad thing. kids will be kids i guess, but the bad attitudes, posturing and bullying once reserved for the court or field has started to replace the feeling of camaraderie and acceptance that you used to enjoy at the skatepark or the local street spot.

having said all that and completely off topic since i can come to no conclusion about the co-opting of alternative culture into mainstream culture (and i realize it's fine, it's helping the sports grow, it's allowing people to be professional athletes and to do what they love to do for a living, i'm just bitter), i just had a wonderful beef brisket burrito from the fresh/pre-made section at whole foods. (i've said it before and here, i'll say it again--seriously, half of the people in there at any time look like they just came from yoga--this is not a bad thing necessarily, i'm used to it--i live in venice remember, there are probably 8 yoga studios within a half mile of me.) a sublime experience, this burrito from the border girls (mary sue milliken and susan feniger from border grill, the two hot tamales?), damn i didn't want that burrito to end. speaking of whole foods (who was doing brisk business due to the supermarket strikes going on here in so cal), i know it's a shame that we have to pay for water, but how can they well those 1.5 liter bottles for $.59? amazing! i guess it's to offset all the other ridiculous boatloads of cash that you spend there on food.

can you tell i'm procrastinating right now?

Monday, October 13, 2003

the way to my heart.

i was longing for a drink to chase away the blues yesterday, and to complete my act of self-loathing, i thought maybe i would pump some of my hard-earned cash directly into governor schwarzenegger's wallet (like he needs it). so i walked up the street to schatzi last night to meet some friends for happy hour. that's right, happy hour on a sunday, and a real honest-to-goodness cheap drinks and food happy hour. maybe our new governor does know the way to my heart.

Friday, October 10, 2003

am i crazy?

i see these billboards and all i can think is "he really looks like a little noel gallagher"

i need to get out more. oh wait, that's all i've been doing lately. this is why i'm too brain dead to blog. i got booted from house of blues last night for drunkenly taking flash photos. oops. today, i am very tired. back to the regularly scheduled posts next week.

Wednesday, October 08, 2003

sore loser

so i voted and i lost. i blame the rest of the state. at least los angeles county voted against the recall, as did most of nor cal, it ws the pesky rest of the state, the santa barbarians, the people behind the orange curtain (of fucking course), etc. etc.

can we just go ahead and fall into the ocean now?

Tuesday, October 07, 2003

the civic duty.

i'm going to set aside my narcissism for a second and mention that i voted this morning. after half an hour of picking out a voting outfit (too patriotic? not patriotic enough? just kidding), i traipsed down to the local art gallery, (my appointed polling place) waited in line dutifully and cast my vote on the recall (no), possible replacement, and the two initiatives.

i swear to you i gave arnold a chance, but i had to vote against him. i went to his bar/restaurant a couple of times to see if maybe had some further-reduced happy hour specials to try to buy the local venice community's vote, but no dice. sexual predatory nature aside, the man clearly does not know what is important to me.

anyway, i wear my "i voted" sticker with pride.

Sunday, October 05, 2003

Saturday, 4 October 2003 in EXCRUCIATING DETAIL

Yesterday, I woke up at 7am, installed a bunch of software onto a laptop I'm selling, drove across town (with a stop at a coffee shop ) to west hollywood by 8:45am for my every 2 or 3 weeks haircut and a sit down with my favorite magazine, finished up around 10:15, went to the mall to go to a store where i picked up some clothes for a party later that evening. After that, I went to a store on sawtelle in west l.a. to pick up a birthday present for my friend lauren. I went home for an hour or so to take care of some business, then headed out to the promenade, where i ate at a pan-asian restaurant, visited my sister at the store she works at, shopped for some books at an art and architecture bookstore , drank more coffee, had some margaritas, perused some hardware and software at a computer store,, then finally went back to west l.a. for the jordan crane reception for a couple of hours, then to another gallery space where i saw some people i hadn't talked to in a long time, including ray motherfucking barbee (google that one). After that, it was off to chinatown for some birthday drinks at one of my favorite new-ish bars, then thai town in hollywood for some 2am eats.

and today, i'm staying in.

Friday, October 03, 2003

the rumors are true. hell yeah, the rumors are true.

a really good friend of mine was out here last week from new york for a job interview and mentioned that there was a steady stream of hot airline stewardesses staying at the hotel he was at, which incidentally was 2 blocks from my office. i found this extremely difficult to believe as my office is in the middle of, well, Torrance, but due to the dearth of decent places to go (redondo/hermosa/manhattan beaches do not count, don't EVEN try to front), i'm willing to try anything, so i dragged one of my buddies on a reconnaissance mission after work.

paydirt, paydirt, paydirt.

ingrid at the foot doctor

i�m writing this from the waiting room of discount tire center instead of watching �the best damn sports show period� and reading 3 year old issues of field and stream, us magazine, and time magazine. why is it that no normal people get flat tires? everyody that hs been in here has been sort of the fringes of society:
crazy eastern european family--does it really take two adults and a 9 year old to choose a tire for their honda accord?

�chuck�--chuck wears white pumas, chinos, black webbed belt, and a yellow long sleeve shirt (tucked in, natch). chuck is inhis late 40s and drives a late-model charcoal gray bmw 3-series convertible (nice). chuck freaks out when they tell him that tires for his car are very expensive. chuck is probably leasing his car and his tires are probably more than his payment. chuck walks out special ordering some korean tires for his nice car.
crazy old man--i will not get close to this donald sutherland-looking motherfucker for fear he will talk to me--i walked outside to use the phone and saw him giving him an earful to one of the poor tire salesman who made the mistake of going for a smoke break.
squat korean girl--hello young lady. inexplicably she was carrying a boxed version of adobe phtotoshop in her bag, which would not close. nice jeans which were too long and being ruined by her barely visible pumas.
pimp--this guy is so pimp. straw hat, woven leather shoes that match in style and weave and color with his woven leather belt, light green shirt, light gray slacks. pimp-ass caddy de ville with the gold package. what does this motherfucker do? dayum.

does no normal person ever have tire problems, or what? oh look, my car is almost done. did i mention that my wheel came off this morning with a swift kick? something i may have thought of doing last night if i wasn�t wearing flip-flops.

Thursday, October 02, 2003

i swear to you, i am a MAN.

i don't want to turn this into a whole "Does that make me gay?" thing (I can assure you I'm not. It's not even a question), but today after work I had a fairly emasculating experience.

There were some after-work cocktails had for someone's birthday (I was lobbying for a bar in a hotel that my well-informed sources say contains hot stewardesses on "LAYover", but I ended up losing to a nondescript strip-mall anchoring Irish bar which smelt of battered and fried foods), and as long-standing and long-suffering readers know, I partook. Pleasantries were exchanged, drinks were had, merriment was made, and lo and behold it was time for me to mosey on to my next appointment for the evening with my non-work friends. Fine. I get in the car, notice I need gas (ugh, $30 a tank these days, I thought we bought Iraq for the oil) and slough off to the filling station.

I notice at the gas station that my right rear tire is a bit low, so after filling up (did I mention $30+?), I went to fill up the rear tire, only to hear a hissing noise emanating from a ruptured sidewall (no doubt due to careless parallel parking on my part).

Ok. Now I've changed many a tire in my life, it's pretty simple.
1) get the jack--I know where this is. I've had a flat before, it's beneath the floor of the cargo area of my soccer mom wagon.
2) find the jack receptacle--done. midway along the car, the jack fits in perfectly.
3) jack the car up--done. at this point I'm feeling pretty good about myself and am seriously considering giving up advertising for a job on a pit crew for a race team somewhere. "Formula 1 maybe, the chicks are better--maybe NASCAR, the chicks are dumber--even better? Maybe I can do both, I wonder what their seasons are like..."
4) remove the lug nuts from the wheel--I'm strong for my size, this is not a problem, I understand how to use leverage to my advantage, that career in the pit crew looks pretty good right about now.
5) remove the wheel from the car--"Hmmm... why isn't this coming off?" I tug, I wiggle, I lift, I shake, nothing. I yank, I use leverage, I pry, nothing. I mean, I'm pulling so hard the car is about to fall off the fucking jack I'm pulling so hard. I'm playing tug-of-war in the Battle of the Network Stars, I'm pulling and leveraging so hard.


I fill the tire with air and drive the fucker home faster than air can leak out. I'm dealing with it in the morning. The fucker is stuck. Humiliating.

On the other hand, I'd like to see you try to do it without getting your paper jeans and buffalo shirt dirty. in flip flops. I swear to you i'm not gay, just borderline metrosexual. Even then, I swear to you this has nothing to do with the fact that I couldn't change the tire on my own car. uhh... wagon.

Thursday, September 25, 2003

dirty little secret

i was futzing around here at my desk at the office this morning when one of my friends (ok, my boss) walks into my office with a big shit-eating grin on his face. (As if he would have a shit-eating grin elsewhere on his body) as usual, i pretended to be busy and looked back down to my computer, which prompted him to start talking in fairly recognizable language, as if he was quoting something very familiar--i just couldn't place it.

after about 30 seconds of this, he finally said something like "porsche is sexy; volvo is sexier", which i realized came from my dirty little secret: my online personals ad.

i was a tiny bit perplexed. in my blabbermouth jibber-jabber moments, i had mentioned that i was doing the online personals thing a while ago, but i was pretty sure i was too embarassed to actually show him the ad itself--but here he was, directly quoting from it--it had to be from one of the big blabbermouths in the office.

"do you have a browser window open? you're going to die when you see this."
"i can in a second--how did you see that, did i show that to you?"
"open up (name withheld to protect myself).com and scroll down."
"oh shit. oh shit. oh shit. please don't show anybody."

featured personal of the day. what's more insulting is that i haven't got ANY emails. i mean shit, am i hot or not? i have 47 friends on friendster, and they're all quality... bleh.

Tuesday, September 23, 2003

i'm going to the 'coov!

the AIGA (american institute of graphic arts) is having their national design conference in vancouver late october (23-26), and the Behemoth Advertising Agency is paying my way.

The conference will be ok, maybe. Probably, it will be ok. I am super excited however about vancouver itself, which i am taking a week to explore after the conference ends. Avid readers will remember my excitement about vancouver on the november 11 post from last year. (i read it again, and think "was bowling for columbine that good?"--yes, yes it was) I've been reading City of Glass by Douglas Coupland and old tremble.com posts to try to get a feel for the city and what i should check out, especially where to find a canadian woman to marry so i can move there. I wonder how the trucker hat thing is playing out in vancouver?


There is nothing worse than Wall Street guys that ride Harleys and dirt bikes. It makes you just want to stretch a sharp wire across Park Avenue and watch all their customized helmets go flying through the air like popcorn as your friends pick up the headless bodies and start walking them around like it�s Weekend at Bernie�s.

monday night

last night i yelled at neve campbell, sang karaoke, and threw a burrito into the street. so far this morning, i drank a full liter bottle of water, a can of v8, and a bottle of gatorade. i am now working on some coffee.

Saturday, September 20, 2003

w.w.a.n.p.d? (what would any normal person do?)

i was minding my own business riding my bike on venice beach today riding around with the skaters, learning some new stuff. a coupla kids rolled up on bmx bikes and start talking to me--and when i say kids, i mean kidskids, all like 14 or 15 years old and whatnot--young enough to have to wear helmets when they ride their bikes. now this happens a lot, and i don't mind, i was a kid once and i would ask older riders stupid questions, and i would be really excited when they were nice to me and were encouraging and whatnot, so i try to do the same. then out of the blue, big sister rolled up on her pink 1953 schwinn cruiser, and then the cat got my tongue. i mean, here was this really cute girl, really good style, recognized my dead rat stickers from vice magazine, nice, funny, not afraid to be a little dorky, nice enough to let her brother and his friend stay at her place in venice (in venice!) which of course made me a babbling idiot--just a puddle of goo AND THEN I DECLINED A LUNCH INVITATION.

sometimes i am my own worst enemy.

Sunday, September 14, 2003


it was more helmet-like with a mullet coming out the back.

back in the 3.2.3.

i was in the 323 this saturday, as i needed to visit sarah at rudy's. you see, i had the asian mullet thing going a little tiny bit, which is not-so-good for someone as single as i.

anyway, i had a good time. thanks 323.

where "anyway, i had a good time. thanks 323." is in the post used to be longer entry, a lot longer. i felt a little guilty for being so self-indulgent, talking about every single detail of my day, first the haircut then to buy some clothes so i don't look so nappy at work, including one of my overly-long asides about the contents of the goodie bag that came with the purchase of jeans of all things, which included (among other boy-band accoutrements), sew-on patches, a hat (trucker-style, natch), and wristbands (to be work somewhere either above or below the elbow). where was i? oh yeah, then amoeba or something. uh... whatever. i forget. actually, this whole addendum is to say that i shouldn't have erased it. it was funny. now it's gone. and i'm even more self-indulgent than when i started.

Sunday, September 07, 2003

so over it.

i tried to change my email address that's linked to my friendster account and it didn't work, so i'm locked out. i cannot log into friendster. this has a) greatly increased my productivity at work and b) pissed me off to no end. i've sent like 8 really nice emails to them a week ago and haven't heard a peep. bastards.

Wednesday, September 03, 2003

90+ dollars for this?

That's right, Paul Weller is back for 3 acoustic nights at the House of Blues (2 in Hollywood, 1 night in Anaheim). October 8-9, and October 14. $30 a ticket, 3 nights, do the math.

If you see me at the show and you say "I'm not gay or anything, but I would totally do Paul Weller." to me, then totally I'll buy you a drink.

Monday, September 01, 2003



my comment:
sales didn't bother me until i moved into my new neighborhood, where people have yard sales on the small patches of grass in front of their 6 unit apartment buildings, attracting roving bands of families in rusted blue ford aerostars circa 1988 choking up the already narrow streets between melrose and beverly. look, i don't want any of your rack of flowery dresses or your swedish semi-disposable furniture or your old callanetics tapes, i'll give you the $50 that you might have made that day to take them to goodwill. until then, wait til you have a goddamn yard.
estate sales are a different story.
no. 61 / 10.14.2002, 10:13 AM

i had a yard sale on sunday. for the record, i don't have a yard. i live in an apartment building on a walk street off of venice beach. i am a hypocritical asshole. how 'bout that!

hey, disposable income + lack of storage space = yard sale! come take advantage of years of unchecked spending. it's amazing, but i pretty much sold everything i put out there. losers.

Saturday, August 30, 2003


1. pick up issue 73 of the official us playstation magazine
2. pop the accompanying dvd in your ps2
3. look at "highlights on gran turismo 4 from e3" in the "inside the game" section
4. laugh at me

Monday, August 25, 2003

again with the friendster.

so i'm at the sunset junction street fair this saturday, right? (a huge street fair in los feliz/silverlake replete with food, drink, and good music. (generally)). this girl walks up to me as i'm stuffing my face with a bratwurst--"Excuse me... hi... uh... ARE YOU ON FRIENDSTER? I just moved here from New York--I wrote to you looking for cool people to hang out with?"

Whoa. Go friendster!

Friday, August 15, 2003


i've been awake all night, but not for lack of trying. i'm lying here in bed at 6:42AM doing what i've been doing for most of the night, alternately trying to go to sleep, giving up, turning my laptop on, surfing the web til i think i might be tired enough to sleep, putting the laptop to sleep, trying to put myself to sleep, waking up the laptop that so indignantly goes to sleep immediately, hearing the city wake up, listen to cars start whizzing down the street, all the while counting down the available hours of sleep--"if i fall asleep in 15 minutes, then i will be able to get 4 hours of sleep, then i can hit snooze"--an hour later, "ok, if i can fall asleep now, i will be able to get 3 hours of sleep, but look it's friday, maybe i can be a little late" and so on and so forth until you are within AN HOUR of your alarm clock going off.

dunno what it is, really--i usually have no problem getting to sleep. i suppose part of it would be the heat--i've changed to the cool side of each of the 4 pillows on my bed at least once over the course of the night. this of course is exacerbated by the bloat induced by many beers, half a large pepperoni + mushroom pizza (thankfully it was thin crust), half a bag of very dense and very oily honey mustard and onion pretzel bits, and handfuls and handfuls of cheddar cheese flavored sun chips. poor dr. atkins must be turning in his grave, which sounds just so peaceful. and quiet. and cool, although it's probably pretty humid in there. ok i'm delirious.

Thursday, July 10, 2003


ok, one thing you'll start to see is pictures. i've wanted to do this often, but i've started posting stuff at http://sx70.buzznet.com, which you'll see on the right over there above linky links and archives. hells yeah.

Wednesday, July 09, 2003

holy cow i'm totally going so fast--ah, f**k!


for the rest

one reason i must go back to the 323

my hair is as big as a house. the new issue of vice magazine is out and i've read most of it already, so no waiting in the lobby of the standard reading the magazine posts. bleh.

one less reason to go back to the 323

Before I beat a hasty retreat to Venice, I lived a block from The Grove, which for those of you blissfully unaware, is a behemolithic shopping centRE smack dab of an area of LA that was already chockfull of shopping areas, just south of clogged and touristy Melrose Ave., east of clogged and boutiquey La Brea, west of clogged and super-consumery La Cienega, and right next door to one-of-the-last-remaining-interesting-bits-of-old-LA, the Farmer's Market.

I boycotted The Grove for months after it opened, grumbling mightily about parking and traffic and the unearthing of the once-leisurely pace of the Farmer's Market, until I was dragged kicking and screaming to a movie there and realized that those were probably (to that point) the nicest theaters I'd been to, and that maybe it wasn't so bad, and maybe getting cocktails and food there wasn't so bad after a movie, and maybe THE APPLE STORE REALLY DID KICK ASS. So I fell. It's one of the things I miss most about my old place, unfortunately.

No more. The Apple Store opens Friday on the 3rd St. Promenade on Friday at 6pm. I am a dork.

Monday, July 07, 2003


Fuck the 323. If you live in the 323 and are over 27 or so, perhaps you should take a cold hard look at your life. Why are you clinging to the vestiges of the life you still lived when you were in your twenties? Do you like that hot, muggy, inland climate? Do you not realize that the only good things about the 323 are not reasons to live there, just reasons to drive there? (restaurants, record shopping, haircutteries, clothes, and live music)

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Thursday, July 03, 2003

The First Post With A Title

It's a test.

Duck Duck Grey Duck
I'm NOT crazy. People were making fun of me the other day because I insisted that in the midwest (ok, so i find out that it's only Minnesota--still, a "flyover state", big whup) kids played "Duck, Duck, Grey Duck" instead of "Duck, Duck, Goose". It's true. I win.

Sunday, June 22, 2003

Wednesday, May 28, 2003

I purchased a laptop a few months ago. My dad was in the hospital (he's doing very well, thank you for asking) and in an inspired bout of retail therapy highly rationalized by the need to get work done at the hospital, I bought a Powerbook G4. It's been great, I've been able to surf porn at work without IT getting on my case, and as evidenced by my last post, write about things pretty much as they happen. OOOOH.

Portability doesn't stop however, once you get home. No sireee, you can read/write blogs on the can, IM on the couch, compose music while eating/cooking, and work in bed. Time flies when you're working in bed though--this is a bad thing--it's 3am before you realize that you really really need to sleep. I've solved it though--don't plug in. Let the battery die. Let the battery life tell you when you need to go to bed, which is right about now.

Tuesday, May 27, 2003

Cheap Bastard.

If you've never been in therapy (college. Long story, maybe later), this entry in which I am in fact a cheap bastard at heart will not look familiar.

Ok so I'm like sitting here in the lobby of The Standard again (waiting to get my hairdid), and laughing my ass off AGAIN at the latest issue of VICE magazine, in this case the "I call bullshit on..." article and the "do's and don'ts". The do's and don'ts almost never fail to disappoint, but there are always a couple of gems of articles in there that make me look like a complete idiot in public-it never fails. I'm always reading Vice in public because when I get it , I pretty much have to read it right there.

This isn't the point, however. The point this time is how fucking often I get my hair cut. It's literally been (I don't know exactly how long, since I don't have internet access at this second, nor do I have fact-checkers at my beck and call, but oh well, it was right before E3, which started the 13th, so it was probably right around then, you know, I had to look good on-camera and whatnot. Did I, who knows, I bombed. Now I've totally lost the flow of my sentence in that overly-long parenthetical aside, now to jump back into the sentence, I think I was talking about how long it's been since I had a haircut) like two or three weeks, though my guess would be two weeks on the nose. TWO WEEKS. It's not like I'm trying to overdo the grooming thing, I'm not trying to become some �ber-groomed, hi-maintenance kind of person, but seriously, sometimes you just have one of those days where I wake up and say "OK, I have the asian fro going on right now (where my hair just sticks out like a porcupine)the only choice I have today is to wear a fucking hat." This is ok in winter (or what passes for winter here in LA), but on the day after Memorial Day? Beanies don't work. Sneaks up on you, it does. This is why I get my hairdid here. $19. I can do that, every couple of weeks. I used to pay more, but that adds up. What is the point of this post? I don't know, I'm bored and I've already read my magazine and I'm bored, I've already had an $11 Ketel One on the rocks and don't really want to pay for another but I don't want the fucking waiter to think I'm cheap by changing up my drinks. Even my tiBook is eliciting "Oh that's not a 17" Powerbook" look from passers-by. Maybe the fact that I was reading a free magazine adds to that cheap-bastard stink I have hanging around me. I drive up in a dirty car for a sub $20 haircut, order JUST ONE $11 drink, and type away on a 15" tiBook. It's not even a 12", which would be cool because it's small. It's the middle-child one, the not-nearly-as-sexy one.
Epiphany! I'm a cheap bastard. I had no idea!

One thing popped into my head as I looked the mirror at my new haircut. I never watched the show, but I saw the fucker on like, the news or something. Ready?


don't that beat all? Except for Ruben, whoever that is.

Monday, May 19, 2003

feeling dorky about:
Wanting a VW Eurovan.

Friday, May 16, 2003

I did some reportage on e3 for Sony yesterday. They stuck a pen and pad of paper in my hand, put a Sony Cybershot U digital camera around my neck (these things are SWEEEET--so tiny) and sent me off to go play videogames and write horrible little stories. I mean, horrible game reviews. In the middle of the day, we shot a story on Gran Turismo 4, where I layed the smackdown on 3 other videogame dorks then interviewed them on-camera. I was sweating like a german tourist at disneyworld in the summer, which you know always looks good on camera.

Every year, I go to e3 for an ego boost. Here I am surrounded by thousands of people that share the same interest as me, BUT THEY'RE ALL HUGE DORKS. I can look around and smile, safe in the knowledge that no matter how dorky I can get, I will NEVER be as bad as the people at this joint. Me, surrounded by a convention center full of dorks and booth babes . pictures to come soon.

Tuesday, May 13, 2003

laughing like an idiot.
why yes, that WAS me sitting by myself in the lobby of the standard reading a magazine and cackling away uncontrollably on saturday morning. this is what i was reading.
Do not make a mix tape for someone you have not fooled around with yet (said in an "emergency, emergency" robot voice). If she has a boyfriend and you are just courting her, she will put on the tape and they will lie in bed listening to "Ne Me Quittez Pas" and laughing their fucking asses off.

now, i realize that saying "i think vice is funny" is a cultural signifier that means almost nothing these days, somewhat like having a poster of a glass of water but this article is.just.so.funny. seriously, all that and they recognize my boy billy bragg. dayum. ("emergency, emergency"! ha!)

Monday, May 12, 2003

dammit, i accidentally erased the "i have a fine ass" post. i do have a fine ass.

repost (i really did accidently delete it):
so this girl was staring at my ass in the elevator today...
there are shiny doors in there, and i was standing there trying to avert my eyes from everybody else's (i'm shy--heh) and minding my own business. they say (whoever "they" are, i agree with them completely), you can tell when people are looking at you--you feel their energy or some shit, and if you look around, you more than likely will see someone looking at you, whether they be checking you out or staring at the piece of toilet paper stuck to your shoe.

so there i was, standing there (averting my eyes) when i felt that someone-is-looking-right-at-you feeling, so i look at the doors in front of me to try to see in the reflection who it might be--lo and behold, this girl's had her head cocked slightly to her left (does that mean in reverie or in analysis?) and her eyes aimed squarely at my ass. i furrowed my brow and slightly smirked right as she looked up to see me watching her, then she quickly looked at one of the news articles posted in the elevator. BUSTED!

i walked to my desk, smug in my fine-ass-having glory (maybe it was the paper jeans?) only to realizewhen i sat down that i had a t-mobile brochure in my back pocket.

what's the point? it's not that i don't have a fine ass. i do. it's just that now this girl is going to feel awkward because she thinks that i think she was staring at my ass (she was), when she was probably just puzzled at what i had in my back pocket (i'm giving her the benefit of the doubt). so what the hell am i supposed to do now?

me: "hey, hi... yeah, um, i know you weren't staring at my ass the other day in the elevator because you think it's fine, or maybe you were, i don't know, i just realize that i had something in my pocket and maybe you were looking at that instead, but in any case, i don't mind, really, you can stare at my ass any day--oh shoot, that came out wrong... uh..."
her: "what are you TALKING about? i'm going to human resources!"
me: "oh, uh..,"

maybe i'll just shut up.

Tuesday, May 06, 2003

Dear Exotic Dancers,

Here's a tip: If I'm in the house and you want to earn lots of money, it's easy. You don't need to put on extra Designer Impostors perfume, your cho-cha don't need no fancy do', all you need is to dance to Portishead. Numb is particularly good. got it?

Monday, May 05, 2003

look, i'm back for the most part and i've even done a little redesign. i'll probably even start posting again soon.

Thursday, April 24, 2003

me being mean and a little bit funny, too:
"she looks like she copied that outfit from a 3 year old back issue of cosmo that she was reading in the waiting room at the free clinic".

Monday, April 14, 2003

please forgive this temporary bad layout as i re-do things. lots to re-do.

Thursday, April 10, 2003

i am installing movable type on my server as soon as i get my domains all sorted. this will only be a mere meta refresh away from my new site. more to come.

Tuesday, April 08, 2003

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another post from the car. whee.

I need to move out of Los Angeles. Today I said "I'm consoling myself with the fact that my hair continues to look 'salon fresh' weeks after the fact". I am a lousy piece of shit.

Top 5 Essential Paul Weller Albums
It's list time here at the blogspot in lieu of a real entry. Paul Weller of course was the former front man in the highly influential punk-tinged mod band The Jam and the jazz/soul/r+b-flavored 80s pop band The Style Council. I have had an unhealthy obsession with Paul for years now--and now you can too! Just buy these albums in order.

1.Wild Wood

Easily one of the best albums of the mid 90s,I have literally played this cd so much that I have had to purchase 4 copies.

2. Heliocentric

Paul's fifth studio album (of six), this is definitely the most ambitious and gets better with every listen, which at last count was in the six figures.

3. Stanley Road

It's got Noel Gallagher and Steve Winwood on it.
The most commercially successful album of his solo career.
You will want to shag to "You Do Something To Me".

4. Illumination [Limited Edition w/ Bonus DVD}

His Most Recent. Effortless and jaunty, and not in a Hootie and the Blowfish kind of way.

5. Paul Weller

His first solo record, done whilst hanging out with all the acid-jazzers at the time. B-sides from this era feature the J.B.'s on horns, if that gives you any indication. While some of Paul's other solo work may remind you of Nick Drake, Traffic, Small Faces or Neil Young, this one is more Marvin Gaye or Curtis Mayfield.

Alternately, you could always ask me for a copy of The Paul Weller Primer--chock full of great album cuts and b-sides that non-collectors like YOU would never hear if not for idiots like me.

Thursday, April 03, 2003

i'm usually pretty excited when Javier or Deniecia from the mailroom comes into my office bearing packages emblazoned with the big amazon smile on them, but when the two books are
Living with Stroke : A Guide For Families--Help and New Hope for All Those Touched by Stroke
and The Stroke Recovery Book: A Guide for Patients and Families--needless to say, it isn't as wonderful. I

My father had a stroke recently. it's been a rollercoaster ride of emotions--one day you're amazed and thanking the heavens for the miraculous recovery he's making and another day, you have no idea what's going on. Needless to say, this has been weighing heavily on my mind lately--more than I am am consciously aware of, I think. As I'm starting to try to ease back into a regular schedule of work and my life after spending most of the last two or three weeks at my parents' house, sometimes the reality of my situation sort of peeks back into the picture and--it sucks.

Monday, March 31, 2003

So I just got
Paul Weller - Two Classic Performances
today from amazon.com. Paul Weller is my hero and this dvd makes me very very very very very very very happy.

Wednesday, March 26, 2003

Powered by audblogaudblog audio post (2 of 2--actually there were three, but one of them was superfluous. it's my blog, i make the rules, you deal with it.)
i cast no aspersions on anybody i know personally in this entry. no, really. this only really applies to native californians, so take no offense.

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traffic will make you do crazy things, especially when you are forced to listen to the radio because you forgot to charge your ipod.

damn, we are all going through a shitstorm right now, aren't we? war, work, family, friends, there is no end of drama right now on global, interpersonal, and individual levels. all i can say is thank god that dentistry and gasoline are cheaper here than they are in england!

Tuesday, March 25, 2003

so mark mcgrath was sitting across from me while i was waiting for my hair to get cut. i see that motherfucker everywhere i go. he not only looked like shit, but he looked old.

in any case, today i designated my new haircuttress for life. i usually bounce from cutter to cutter but i think she's the one. she has the "wild" card from UNO tattooed on her upper arm, as if to say "you can trust me with your hair, i won't make you look like you want to be on the cast of friends, or for god sakes, even look like you watch that fucking show". it is all about trust, yo. all 'bout the trust.

anyway, i hadn't had a haircut for ages as i was sick of my last hairthing, but now...NOW we have a PLAN. soon enough, i will be insufferably hot. or not. i still give myself only an 8 on the face, not much i can do about that, although the body is tighter than an erik spiekermann layout, so that's good and uh, sex appeal, well i guess the erik spiekermann reference would definitely definitely definitely bring that down some.

addendum for those too drug-addled or whatever to get the subtleties: i've actually never watched the are you hot or whatever show it is that renegade jerkyboy is on, so if i have somehow screwed up the reference, well there you go.

politics, like gun control, abortion, and religion, is one of the topics that i generally try to avoid in order to be polite. one can only estrange so many potential father-in-laws before you get the hint--please, please learn from my mistakes.

having said all that, go michael moore. you fucking kick ass. you should have won best fucking picture, corporate america should have won best actor, and the US government best supporting role. you are an inspiration and now, i will be less ashamed to say that i think this war is a piece of shit. war is sometimes the answer, but i'm not sure it is now.

(for the record:
1. i never wanted to buy any of those cows anyway
2. even though i was dissuaded by canadians from moving to vancouver due to the heroin and crack problems there, i am now considering montreal or toronto now. what say ye?
3. i do realize that parenthetical asides should neither be this long, nor be numbered and appear in list form. sorry, that's just the way i think)

Wednesday, March 12, 2003

one thing i miss about NYC: billy's topless. screw you, todd levin, for reminding me.
addendum: if you don't know what i'm talking about, google it.

alright fine, stop making fun of me, i'm going to reinstall movable type on my new server. sheesh.

I got pulled over this morning on the way to work by the Royal Torrance Mounted Police for doing 54MPH in a 35MPH zone. This apparently is what happens when you listen to Norwegian electronic music while driving before 9am. The officer, no doubt seeing the danger his family and future generations of offspring would have to endure at my hands, wisely chose to let me off with a warning. Well, it was either that or the "dumb and repentant" act I pulled. If you know me, you would know I'm neither dumb nor repentant. This is not up for discussion.

Monday, March 10, 2003

"i saved latin. what did you ever do?"
everybody has their pet peeves. some people for example, cannot stand personalized ringtones (phones that sing). others can't stand socks and tevas.
me, i cannot fucking stand when people use "persay" when they mean "per se". it's probably some form of snobbery i have since i took latin in high school. latin is actually more useful than you realize. i mean, why the hell do they teach french or spanish or german in high school anyway? they only time kids'll use it is (maybe) on a high school trip abroad, where you're too busy trying to cop a feel and trying to figure out where mcdonald's is to bother with any of that foreign language garbage. the only people who give a crap about foreign language in high school anyway were the precocious theater-types who drink tea and pine away for paris. so your life is boring in suburbia, speaking french won't help you.

first of all, i'd like to welcome any new readers that may have followed the link from my other website. you'll see that i don't write about anything that would get me fired anyway, so...

fingers crossed.

anyway, i did end up getting chosen for that bmx/skateboard/snowboard thing for that new cable channel, and we shot that on sunday. they basically had me blather about why i think bmx gets sort of second-string status in the media, compared to skateboarding at least. something about its white trashy roots and marketing and some such. god bless. easy money, suckas.

Monday, March 03, 2003

Sunday, March 02, 2003

69 degrees today here. read it and weep, all y'all. i love LA. ok, i love the weather. we clear?

Saturday, March 01, 2003

what the hell?
i had an audition today for this thing on bmx/skateboard/snowboard(ers/ing). it was really strange, i felt like some sort of investigative reporter--this isn't really my sort of thing, you see. suddenly "what do i wear" and "what is my story/what is my schtick" became something i was concerned about _for_money._
reality tv shows are they way they are because the contestants are so media-savvy. they know what people are looking for, and they bring it. in buckets. i was hyper-aware of this and feeling dirty all at the same time:
"hmmm...i should wave my arms more, be more animated. they're expecting the whole x-games thing...jeez, why am i wearing this red t-shirt? look at the monitor, the color is bleeding everywhere--who the hell is lighting this thing anyway--remember to drop names and knowledge...maybe i shouldn't be making this drug analogy... what the hell am i talking about...i'm like spud in trainspotting, too much caffeine..." and so on and so forth.

Thursday, February 27, 2003

hey, i live in venice now, and i'm really mad.
to clarify, i love it so much that i'm really pissed at myself for not moving there sooner. Those who have been reading this for a while may remember posts like that of Thursday, October 10, 2002 when I detailed why I hated my apartment so much. Anyway, those days are long gone, as are the gobs of traffic, the parking nightmares, and my empty wallet. whew.
I am now enjoying living a block from the beach with ample parking, much better coffee, better looking and more relaxed people, , and an abundance of happy hour spots.

Thursday, February 13, 2003

things to look forward to in future posts:
- my very los angeles weekend last week
- my increasingly busy life away from they keyboard
- why i am not ashamed to love the new missy cd (i know it's not new anymore)
- what it feels like to sleep after not sleeping for a week

I've been sitting here with this blank blogger screen for about an hour now. I sat down to write, but realized I had nothing to write about, so I checked my email. luckily, a strange couple came by to put a deposit on my refrigerator, so that occupied a couple of time units, but here I am, stuck. Here I am, four sentences in, i've already made two bad movie references and haven't had the wherewithal to make anything out of either of them.

It's tough, you know. I've been busy moving and it's sucking the life out of me. I'll be back soon. I think.

Thursday, January 30, 2003

Ok, here's the deal. It's 80 degrees today, which in Los Angeles you might expect at any given day. This is generally good, and it makes every season beach season and gives men and women alike the motivation to keep themselves looking nice. It affords women the luxury of showing lots of skin and men the luxury of leering. Of course, you could argue that most of these people are here wanting to be celebrity types of some sort, but hey, we're accenting the positives here.

80 degrees fahrenheit does nothing for snowboarders though, especially when we were teased with a good few days of heavy-ish rain early in the season. Heavy-ish rain equals heavy-ish snow, and that equals good snowboarding. I should have never made fun of the people who made the "stormwatch 2003" jokes. I should have never said "Hey, it looks like it's gonna be a good winter for snowboarding!". That's like saying "Hey look, there's no traffic today!" I jinxed it. Sorry everyone.

Tuesday, January 28, 2003

i'm afraid i can't really tell you how to stay sane at a large advertising agency, hence the delay. on with the regularly scheduled program.

Tuesday, January 14, 2003

The Moving Post
I'm making it happen, y'all. I'm moving to Venice in a few weeks, and I cannot even begin to tell you how excited I am. A block to the beach, right off Main St. and all its stores and bars and restaurants, Abbot Kinney Blvd with its slightly more artsy stores and bars and restaurants, there is no shortage of things to do. If that wasn't enough, I'm saving upwards of $500 a month by doing this (it means having a roommate, which I really don't mind all that much), Ingrid will have her own little parking spot (no more street parking!), and my commute will be cut by 20-30 minutes each way.

Moreover, it's time. It really is. I've lived in Los Angeles for pretty much my whole life (save 4 months in Manhattan, 1 month in Seattle, and a couple of times I was out of this world stoned in college for who knows how long), and I've never lived by the beach, so there's that, but that would be oversimplifying things.

If you've been paying attention in the slightest, you'll no doubt have noticed some ennui here and there (and if you haven't noticed, then my subtle cries for help were maybe too subtle-- d-oh!). It will be good to move away from all the posturing and hullabaloo of the middle of the city and get in some fine beach livin'. I've been threatening to do this for a while, and it's finally happening.

Oh yeah, I was walking down Main St. after looking at the apt. for the first time and noticed that even though I wasn't in Whole Foods, 95% of the women looked like they were coming from yoga class. Hmm, is that where all the chicks are?

Next: How to stay sane whilst working for a very large advertising agency.

Saturday, January 11, 2003

ever notice that at any given moment, 50% of all the people that are in Whole Foods Market (any one, take your pick) look like they came right from yoga class?

Friday, January 10, 2003

Tonight, I went to a party that URB Magazine put on for Scion. Lots of people, open bar (which should explain the lots of people thing), really good music, old friends, good fun vibe.
My reaction: "Oh yeah, that's right, this is fun, I like this, here are my people. Duh."

Sometimes it's all you can do to put one foot in front of the other, not making any noticeable progress, but moving in the right direction is better than not moving at all. And when you expect it, you find without noticing that you've gained momentum rather quickly. Damn, that's a fine feeling.

Thursday, January 09, 2003

He learns to lighten up.
No epiphanies, no ultimatums by friends either long-standing or long-suffering, and no medication was necessary, but I'm lightening up. Actually, I'm on the atkins diet and I'm melting away, but that's not what I mean.

anyway, guilty pleasure:
look at what you get with my last post when you run it through, par example:
Sunday, January 05, 2003 �

fo' sho, so i like totally take that last post back n' shit. i so totally 'n completely take that last post back n' shit. that shiznit's da sort of weird thing that happens when da new year falls on a weekday 'n yo' ass has go back work n' shit. knowwoteyemean? da new years-y feeling is finally sort of taking hold, replete wit honest feelings of "i'm gonna so totally do this better next year, i promise" 'n whatnot."
in any case, i've had this weekend reflect n' shit. i will update shortly n' shit.

Sunday, January 05, 2003

ok, so i like totally take that last post back. i so totally and completely take that last post back. it's the sort of weird thing that happens when the new year falls on a weekday and you have to go back to work. knowwoteyemean? the new years-y feeling is finally sort of taking hold, replete with honest feelings of "i'm gonna so totally do this better next year, i promise" and whatnot.
in any case, i've had this weekend to reflect. i will update shortly.

Thursday, January 02, 2003

the new year
maybe you noticed that "the new year" is in bold above, maybe you weren't paying attention that closely. if i could have used the blink tag i probably would have, but you know... too much work. my resolution this year: cultivate arrogance.