Just watching Conan. Should be sleeping. Saw Tina Fey. I think she's hot.

Ever notice her scar on her face?

How'd she get that?

I was watching an old documentary about Second City and she was in it, but didn't see the scar.

I wanna see, "Mean Girls", but I wanna watch my DVD of, "Heathers" first.

Well, my life is most likely back in the stinker.

I haven't heard or seen the girl I've been smooching on these last few days. I think she's figuring out how to erase me from her memory.

One of the last things she said to me was she doesn't want to get emotionally involved, yet that was the reason she gave me for her breakup from her boyfriend. She said her dude was emotionally detached in their relationship.

I think they actually might be good for each other. I hope they can get back together. She's a cool chick and deserves a great relationship with someone who isn't emotionally unavailable.

I was just hoping to hookup with a nice girl and get some sex before NBC plays, "10.5" and we here on the West Coast slide off in to the ocean. Or before "Friends" last episode airs and the riots break out and the city burns.

Surviving a disaster without a girl is going to suck. I mean what's the point of surviving?

I don't wanna be the Marjoe Gortner character stalking Victoria Principal in, "Earthquake", that dude was creepy.

But going it alone like Gene Hackman as a Priest in, "The Poseidon Adventure" would suck too, that's why I would have banged Pamela Sue Martin and let Shelley Winters save everyone else.

But I can't swim, so my disasters must be landlocked.

Landlocked like my heart.

My heart, scarred like the face of Tina Fey, smiling, yet sad...

I heard on the News that Baywatch chick Gena Lee Nolin is the latest to do it in an Internet viewable sex tape.

It's reportedly being shopped to various porn sites for more than $1 million without the actor's consent.

Was she acting?

The tape was made by Nolin and her then-husband, Greg Fahlman, in the 1990s, shortly after one of Nolin's three breast-implant surgeries.

When I heard this, I asked, "Gena Lee Nolin? Has three breasts? I wanna see that tape!"

Actor Robert Downey Jr.'s 12-Year marriage is over...

Actress Halle Berry's divorcing Eric Benet...

'Living It Up! With Ali & Jack' gets canceled...

I didn't hook up with an old girlfriend today, like I thought I would and I got no kisses from my friend that I had been getting some from the last two days...

I guess I should get excited that 'Queer As Folk' is starting its Fourth Season, maybe if I had cable I could watch it.

Loser...

Michael Eisner remains firmly in control of Disney and I can't get laid.

I've received several e-mails that I've been hacked. I don't know why, or how anyone would know or even care to do this to me...

The heat has been something horrible. I hate trying to sleep in the heat. I can't stand my thighs getting all sweaty slipping up against each other in the night.

I did a little smooching with a friend last night, but I'm getting a vibe here...

It might be me, but I think it's probably going to slip away. It did feel good while it lasted.

I'm suppose to see and old girlfriend later today, but I haven't heard from her. She's all big-time an shit... She doesn't need me all botherin'' her.

I figured out this pattern I have where I rarely keep girls phone numbers, just so I can't call them. If they call me and don't leave their number, thinking I have it, I can't call back.

What gives there?

I could Star 69...

But that would be a vulgar display of power!

I think I want to go check out Greg Pak's,"Robot Stories."

Check out some cool info about his flick. Greg Pak.

Then check out a cool robot video my friend Steve sent me.

"Future of Law Enforcement"

I wish I were a robot. Then I wouldn't have feelings getting hurt, or worry about stuff...

But then I'd probably fall in love with that Bjork robot from Chris Cunningham's, "All is Full of Love" video.

But she'd fall in love with her robot double, and sure robot Lesbians are hot to watch an all... It's just after a while it's like watching Monster Trucks smash each other up... Where's the love?

I need to remove my emotion chip.

It looks just like a chocolate chip and it's all sweet, just like me...

Wanna bite?

Today, or rather Yesterday, but you know what I mean...

...Was a Fucking awesome day!

Sure my ass was continually wet due to the extreme Valley 100 DeesGrees plus temperatures...

Sure news of Hubert Selby Jr., the author of "Last Exit to Brooklyn" and "Requiem for a Dream," who died today of a lung disease at 75 saddened me. I'll never get to see him again...

Sure I missed seeing, "Kill Bill: Volume 2" again...

But after coming home from an extensive writing and workshop planning session, I happened to run into a friend who I've known for many years.

Standing on the sidewalk listening to a sad story about her recent breakup with a longterm relationship. I was sad for her, but not so deep inside, I screamed in joy.

I tried to hide this from her because I care for her and always have. She's been great to me after all these years.

She was always cool with me through my marriage and supportive through my divorce.

Always there for me.

While I was pretending to listen to her as she was telling me about her troubling breakup I thought I should try kissing her.

Just then, suddenly we moved closer and began kissing.

Kissing with a great amount of passion. I became aroused and was concerned about the location and placement of my ever increasing penis.

I hoped it was aiming up because if it had been hanging down the chances of it getting tangled in the pocket lining of my jeans were pretty good.

It doesn't sound like a big deal but it would have been uncomfortable, so I pulled a cool mis-direction move like some horny David Blaine...

I shook my house keys and in one swift move put them in my pants pocket and swished the sausage around and pointed it on its proper path to pleasure.

Smooth.

We kissed some more.

My pants were getting tighter.

I needed to sit.

We walked to the stairs, sat and chatted. She was concerned about getting too serious. I was concerned about when I was getting her panties off.

It felt right to me, however I sensed she was troubled by the thought of someone like me... Sweet, sensitive, cute, emotionally available, good guy, employed, creative, sexually proficient, and monogamous might be troubled by her need of multiple partners and exploration of her lesbian desires.

I can't wait to peel those panties off.

Hell, I can't wait to peel her panties off either...

Who knows...

She needs time.

I'm probably history already to her.

Things seem better already for me. As I just stepped in from doing late night early morning laundry, the birds that normally would be annoying with their singing at this hour, sound beautiful to me in the balmy air.

I feel even if she's laying in bed in her apartment right now thinking it was a big mistake to kiss me, That I'm a disgusting loser...

It'll be okay to me because I really just enjoyed the feeling of being kissed and held by her and having my dormant penis swell up with love.

Maybe if Tomorrow, or even later Today, things don't go so well, I'll have the memory of those wonderful feelings to think about...

I can't wait to see my dreams.

Man, NBC�s drama �Law & Order: Criminal Intent" is so awesome...

What little TV I get to see, I try catching this show when I can and this last episode was really good.

In a town where sexual lifestyle among the town's depressed youth is all banging without love, a series of murders points to three teenaged girls who might be connected to the drownings of three former lovers.

The girls are cute.

With his knowledge of "Siddhartha" Vincent D�Onofrio's character discovers the girls allegiance to a male classmate, the soon to be superstar Billy Lush.

The episode is really about the starting of a cult. I don't know why that fascinates me?

The idea that young girls could totally devote themselves to you (the Cult Leader) and your every need...

I just had to take a break after typing that last sentence. I finished and now I'm back.

I need to find the "How To" book on starting a cult like that.

Isn't there an "Idiot's Guide to Cults" yet?

Anyway the show is just great.

Dick Wolf is the man!

A Canadian porn actress found stabbed to death last month may have been killed while shooting a film that was to have simulated the murder of a woman during sex.

DNA clues and a scrawled note referring to a "snuff" video connect photographer Anthony J. Frederick to the death of 23-year-old Natel King, whose body was found in a trash-filled ravine in March.

King, who was from the Toronto area, disappeared after posing for Fredericks in a hard-core bondage shoot that had been arranged over the Internet.

Her body was found nearly a month later, naked and slashed and still wearing bondage devices.

A snuff video is a pornographic film depicting someone being murdered, but prosecutors believe King was supposed to only simulate death in the video.

This just pisses me off!

This is just another horrible example of work we here in Hollywood keep losing to Canada due to tax breaks found there.

There's no reason this film couldn't have been made here.

French-born director, screenwriter and author Jose Giovanni, who had a string of crime movie hits featuring Jean-Paul Belmondo and Alain Delon, has died. He was 80.

He made some 20 movies throughout a directing career which ended in with "My Father Saved My Life."

The film starred Bruno Cremer as an international poker player who loses one son to crime and fights to save another from a death sentence.

Beauty products pioneer Estee Lauder, who over decades built a multimillion-dollar cosmetics empire with thousands of employees, has died.

Lauder, died at her home on the Upper East Side of Manhattan.

The company declined to give her age. She was believed to be between 95 and 97, but due to the age concealing makeup she wore, only looked 93.

Michael Jackson replaces lead Attorneys...

Jackson might get off because he's hired Denny Crane from Crane, Poole & Schmidt, and Hannah Rose.

Jackson is clearly insane, because Hannah Rose is Rebecca De Mornay and Denny Crane is the brilliant William Shatner from David E. Kelley's Emmy Award-winning legal drama, "The Practice."

People from my past and I seem to be catching up on old times. Folks are popping up on e-mail and web searches.

Normally this would depress me, but these people are great and the time is right for reconnecting.

While pouring over old letters, I dug through some music I used to listen to to put me in a nostalgic frame of mind.

I pulled out all my old Cure CD's and popped open the old photo albums.

Some photos were loose and fell to the floor. Some people I don't even remember. Some I wish I could forget and some that seem like perfect angels.

The Cure's "Disintegration" came on my CD player and I had to lay down and listen.

Oh i miss the kiss of treachery the shameless
Kiss of vanity the soft and the black and the
Velvety up tight against the side of me and
Mouth and eyes and heart all bleed and run in
Thickening streams of greed as bit by bit it
Starts the need to just let go my party piece
Oh i miss the kiss of treachery the aching kiss
Before i feed the stench of a love for a younger
Meat and the sound that it makes when it cuts
In deep the holding up on bended knees the
Addiction of duplicities as bit by bit it starts
The need to just let go my party piece

But i never said i would stay to the end so i
Leave you with babies and hoping for frequency
Screaming like this in the hope of the secrecy
Screaming me over and over and over i leave
You with photographs pictures of trickery
Stains on the carpet and stains on the scenery
Songs about happiness murmured in dreams
When we both us knew how the ending would
Be...

So it's all come back round to breaking apart
Again breaking apart like i'm made up of glass
Again making it up behind my back again
Holding my breath for the fear of sleep again
Holding it up behind my head again cut in deep
To the heart of the bone again round and round
And round and it's coming apart again over and
Over and over

Now that i know that i'm breaking to pieces
I'll Pull out my heart and i'll feed it to anyone
Crying for sympathy
crocodile cry for the love of the crowd and the three cheers from everyone
Dropping through sky through the glass of the roof through the roof of your mouth
Through the mouth of your eye through the eye
Of the needle it's easier for me to get closer to
heaven than ever feel whole again

I never said i would stay to the end i knew
I would leave you with babies and everything
Screaming like this in the hole of sincerity
Screaming me over and over and over i leave
You with photographs pictures of trickery
Stains on the carpet and stains on the memory
Songs about happiness murmured in dreams when
both of us knew how the end always is...

how the end always is...
=====================

I sat there with a slight lump in my throat. The song is powerful, but maybe it's the memories and how much time has past from when I played it when the song was new. A lot has changed since then in my life.

I can't exactly say why the song still affects me the way it does. I'm not sure I even identify with what the lyrics say, it's just the time period from when the song was released and what was going through my life at the time.

And all the time that seems to have passed between.

Mostly wasted...

I can't even truly say what was going on in my life at the time. Maybe it's just some sadness I'm having for that younger self and the older man now wishing he could talk to that younger man and let him know what was ahead.

That the things that seemed so important are not and those things that seemed easy and small were and are the most important.

I rolled over onto my side hugging the pillow and wished I had someone with me that I could talk to about all these feelings that are washing over me.

I got an interesting e-mail from someone who seemed concerned about my friends disastrous use of power tools the other day...

Telling me:

There's http://www.sawstop.com/home.htm���

Someday it will be standard on most power tools (table saws, band saws, chop saws). �And there will be a lot fewer missing fingers.

Ron Britvec
============

My other brother e-mailed me from his home in Kansas City. Reading his e-mail is very funny and interesting as he types in ALL CAPS, which I feel is him YELLING AT ME, and deciphering his spelling is like cracking the Bible Code. He may not have a spell check feature on his computer.

My spelling is dab too...

I picked up a couple of gifts for my friends Steve and Aaron. They've been so good to me.

Steve is the guy to go to for any Mac problem and Aaron is always there when you need him.

I tried hooking up with them last night, but their lives are so full of creative demands that getting them together is sometimes hard.

Steve's working on a new Drew Carey show and Aaron's working on a huge blockbuster about fish... You should smell his fingers at the end of his day.

He said that was the fish smell...

Steve's finger have yet to smell like Drew Carey.

I need to curb this desire to smell my friends fingers.

I stopped at Roman's in Studios City on the way to pick up a load of used books in my Honda Civic SUV. My friend Michael who is now a regular reader of this exciting page made me a treat.

He made a very Pink shake. It was made with Vanilla and real Strawberries.

I didn't get the joke at first.

He explained it was my, "Milk of Amnesia" from the other day's post.

It did look like Phillips'� Milk of Magnesia or whatever it's called.

A couple of sweet ladies at the next table asked about it. Strawberries seem to get women excited.

One woman looked like that actress chick from "King of Queens", Leah Remini, who I think is one of the hottest bitches in Tee Vee...

I was hoping I'd get some action, but once the conversation strayed from strawberries, it was all down hill.

I got quite a bit of work done on an up coming workshop I'm trying to put together. Roman's is a great place to work or just read while eating. If you like hanging around scary Russians and Middle-Eastern types.

Whenever there's a large group hanging out there, huddled around tables talking in their native tongue, it really appears that they are plotting the overthrow of the Government.

They can't just be talking about wraps and sandwiches...

A couple on the Atkins Diet have a beef with a restaurant after being booted from the buffet for eating too much meat.

Both are on the no-carb diet, were dining at a Chuck-A-Rama in a Salt Lake City suburb when the manager cut them off because they'd eaten too much roast beef.

Chuck-A-Rama is an all you can eat establishment.

After his 12th slice of roast beef, the manager asked him to stop.

A fight broke out.

Police are called.

The couple are finishing their second week of the Atkins Diet, which requires taking in little to no carbohydrates, and they eat at Chuck-A-Rama's $8.99 buffet at least twice a week because of its convenience.

The couple said they won't return to the restaurant.

Never antagonize a person in their second week of the Atkins Diet!

When will people learn?

I hope Hometown Buffet is open late today, I'm getting hungry just typing this...

I'm watching Quentin Tarantino on Charlie Rose and I can't believe how much weight he's lost since the last time I talked to him.

He was pretty big. He too must be doing the Fast thing, or at least South Beach Diet.

I was trying the Venice Beach Diet which basically is all fried finger foods and crack.

Thailand protests Victoria's Secret 'Buddha bikini', I think I look like Buddha as I stand in front of the full length bathroom mirror. I'm not in a bikini, but it looks like it as my gut hangs over my tiny briefs.

Ladies? You too can have that standing before you. I'm single and ready to have my belly rubbed for good luck.

I have some bad stomach virus. Is there a good kind?

I saw an old friend that was very helpful in my wedding at Bob's Big Boy in Toluca Lake. Back in the day when there was love in my life.

Anyway...

He's one of the owners of the Big Boy and of many of the Baja-Fresh-es across the great U. S. of A.

He asked me how I was doing? I told him about the divorce and laughed like... That's what you get when you get married at Bob's Big Boy!

I asked what was new with him and he showed me his left hand minus all his fingers but the pinky.

How'd you do that?

Sears Craftman Circular Saw while working on my patio. He told me he didn't feel it at first, but knew something was wrong when his fingers flew up and hit his face.

Like little beany-weenies I imagine...

It all just sucks how fragile we all are...

He seems to be managing just fine with his little finger, but Gawddamn!

Today I saw a guy getting out of his car, pull out some crutches and walk toward a Wells Fargo with one leg and only a small rolled up pants leg for the other. The pants leg was pinned in a roll like toothpaste had been squeezed out and it swayed back and forth noticably as he worked his crutches.

I remember living in Dallas and stopping at a yard sale and seeing nothing but big ass power tools spread out on a sheet on the lawn and a guy in a plastic patio chair missing his arm at the elbow drinking beer from tube connected to a hard hat beer holder.

The sign said, "Half Off!"

I just work up from a horrible dream that Michael Jackson was trying to pay me off.

In the dream I couldn't figure out why?

But I guess it must have been for something he did to me.

I had fallen asleep listening to George Noory on KOGO 600AM in San Diego, because "Coast to Coast" isn't live in Los Angeles on KFI AM640 till the weekends. I believe the News break may have had news that Jackson had been indicted. My dream may have been the result of sleeping with the News on.

Let that be a lesson to you kids, don't sleep with Michael Jackson, or the News.

Unless it's News about Paulina Rubio, or just Paulina Rubio herself...

It was a stomach churning day of illness and heartbreak. Nausea overcame me at many various turns. My only salvation was to be found in books.

Later, I found an e-mail from an old friend who use to be a wonderful roommate. He is doing mornings at a News-Talk FM station in Alabama.

It was great reading his letter and memories poured over me. We had some great times.

Steve had loaned me his DVD of "Walt: Man Behind the Myth", about Disney and his life. I was going to buy a copy but at $30.00 at the Virgin Megastore, getting to see Steve's copy was the better deal.

Unfortunately, the Macrovision copy protection system on the DVD is making it difficult to watch on my TV as it gets bright and then dark over and over. I thought I was going to have a seizure.

I guess I can't have my DVD player, that Aaron gave me hooked through my VCR, but there's no other way with the old TV I have...

My stomach is aching so bad. I think I might have a virus. Ate something bad. Worry...

I hope my insurance is good enough to get a good Doctor. I found a spot of blood on a White shirt of mine Yesterday. I thought it might be one of my frequent nose bleeds, but I found a never before noticed mole on my shoulder that was bleeding.

Gotta get that looked at...

I wanted to catch "48 Hours" and the Princess Diana story, but guess I missed it. Some people think her death is linked to so many things, even the current war in Iraq.

I know when I die, I want to be part of a conspiracy theory. Death can be so boring with out mystery.

Today was a busy one. I can't really remember what happened but there was lots of meetings and talking.

It was a pretty good day, yet still was unable to make time to see the films I wanted to see. I'm getting behind on my cinema.

I talked again with my brother in Missouri. There was talk about me moving back there to be closer to my Family who I haven't been around for something like twenty or more years.

There is some pressure to get back in to radio in the mid-west. There are stations there that have offered opportunities before that I haven't received from very many of the stations here.

I think maybe living here is just too tough for someone as sensitive as I am. I doubt if it'd be better there...

I'm feeling like there's no place for me.

I saw one of my favorite actresses the other day and failed to mention our lunch together. Well, we were at separate tables, but she was alone and so was I and she did look at me once. Unfortunately, it was just at the moment a bite of food was too hot and I gracefully dropped it out of my mouth on to the plate with a plop.

I looked up to see her staring with a look of horror.

I quickly wiped the saliva from my face and bury my head back into my copy of Bob Woodword's book.

Samantha Mathis, is very attractive I think. I met her once at Paramount and was introduced to her by her then boyfriend who knew me from my work on the Independent Film Channel. She was very nice and complimentary to my work.

She looked so pretty shoving pizza into her mouth.

I should have said something to her, but I didn't.

She was great in, "Pump Up the Volume", "American Psycho", and I was told today she's in "The Punisher", but I can't verify that as I haven't seen it yet.

I read that Penn and Teller celebrate 30 years of magic. I can't believe it. They seem to still like each other after all that time.

I heard from a friend at NBC that Tom Brokaw leaves 'Nightly News' on Dec. 1. Ryan Seacrest is replacing him. That's weird isn't it?


A film I want to see really badly and have mentioned here before that cost less than $200 to make on a Mac using iMovie and iPhoto is among the attractions at Roger Ebert's sixth annual Overlooked Film Festival.
It's called, "Tarnation" and it's by Jonathan Caouette, which cost $187.

A horror movie that I just did the trailer voice-over for had an interesting plug on our local Los Angeles TV News. The star and I believe on of the producers was seen in North Hollywood being interviewed about his late tax filing. The film is partly funded by his tax returns.

Hopefully that will be included on the DVD extras.

An aspiring horror-movie maker pleaded guilty to first-degree murder for killing a co-worker's wife in exchange for a "substantial" payment from the life insurance policy that her husband would have collected.

At the time, a horror film enthusiast, had assembled a cast and crew to produce a movie script he had written, entitled "Through Hike," about five friends who set out to hike the Appalachian Trail. The hikers never reach their destination. They end up getting murdered by the ghost of a coal mining baron who had been murdered a century or so ago.

Two men made the killing appear like it happened during a burglary. While the director carried out the killing.

Victim Randi Trimble was covered by life-insurance policies worth $94,000, equity in their home was about $40,000, and she also left about $25,000 in a bank account.

After the killing, he spent about $20,000 on a computer, dining room furniture, a couch, a TV and entertainment center, movies, a video-game machine, and games.

No word yet when and who will distribute the horror film.

I'm thinking Troma, or Lion's Gate...

I tried hooking up with Steve or Aaron as they seem to be my only friends. But they both have something to do.

Los Angeles is a hard place to make lasting friendships. At least it has been for me. Most everyone wants to know what you can do for them. And when you can't do anything for them but just be friendly... It's not enough and they move on.


Steve e-mailed me:
Missed ya. I have Maya class Mondays and Wednesdays.

Steve

He's very brief in text form.

--- Steve,

No need to use excuses with me... That excuse of yours
is the oldest blow off trick in the book. I used to
have an ex-girlfriend that told me she had classes in
Cobalt and Fortran. Remember those?

But she lied. She was out cooking meth in the desert
and doing gateway drugs with some gay bikers.

If you'd like to come over for a pizza lunch Tomorrow
that'd be great...

Lemme know,

Jerry
=====

He won't. He'll have something else to do. I really just want some verbal contact with someone. Also, a distraction from all the static in my head...

I want to start another Fast, so this way by getting pizza, I blow that plan off.

My brother offered to let me move on to their Missouri Farm where they live nearly underground. I'd move on to part of his 40 acre property and live in a small shed built out of cedar by the Amish.

I pulled out my Loompanic book called, "Rancho Costa Nada" about a guy that buys 10 acres in the Salton Sea for $300. He lives in a plywood box with no running water unless it rains.

Maybe I could do like Derek Jarman and live next to an abandoned nuclear power plant on radioactive soil.

I could get one of these Fab Prefabs.

I like this one by Rocio Romero.

And the Glide House.

Just have to find some land to build on.

And some money to do it all...

Please send me some.

Just enough to buy the land, build these houses and some extra for my cosmetic surgery.

Because I'm getting no response from the producers of "The Swan" reality TV series about my chances...

I just woke up. It's early. I had a sharp pain in my back. I must have been having a dream about lifting something unliftable.

I feel I've pulled a muscle.

I've been looking around the house for some phantom muscle relaxer that might have been saved from a previous pain or party.

No luck.

There's the sound of a dog locked in some room of some neighboring house whining so sadly.

At first I thought it was a distant Police siren, or even a baby crying.

I try laying down, but my thoughts are on the dog crying.

I wish I could float out of my body, soar out of the house and find the dog and pet it. I'd let it know it wasn't alone and that everything would be okay.

I worry that while I was sleeping the dog's owner was silently murdered by a home invader. The house ransacked and the dog left with his dying friend.

I then wonder if I were to have left my body the now dead person might try climbing into my vacant body to exact revenge on his murderer.

I wish him luck with my busted back.

This is all so silly as I lay now flat on the floor waiting for some nocturnal mouse or spider to crawl across me.

I left the radio on after hobbling to the bathroom for a pee to drown out the increasingly annoying dog whine. It's Howard Stern live on KLSX. I hate when it's a repeat. Mondays you never know. I can't hear it very well. It's like a cool conversation in another room at a party in which you find yourself stuck in the dull conversation room.

I'd like to be able to hop up and change the station, but I'm feeling a vertebrae sliding back into place and am afraid to jar it.

I begin imagining that I can mentally change the station to hear the rebroadcast of Art Bell on KFI. I believe I've pulled a muscle in my brain.

My head it now throbbing.

I roll on to my side, my back pops, and I pull myself up off the floor and on to the bed. Stuck to my thigh is a subscription card that had fallen out of Vogue International Magazine and found its way to the floor. Now it's made it to my bed.

I toss it to the floor. Again it finds place.

I need to sleep.

I need to stop checking the computer for the latest e-mail that never seems to arrive without being spam.

My constant checking the answering machine for the Red flashing light that never flashes has been replaced by checking of e-mail.

I need to wake up in two hours and I can't sleep!

I put the pillow over my head and wonder if life can get better for me. What would better be like? I wonder.

I wish there was someone nice and sweet in bed with me, to talk to me. Tell me a story and kiss me goodnight.

I wish I could make the dog happy so he wouldn't whine so sadly. I'd like it if the dog could curl up on a nice soft rug at the foot of my bed.

I imagine the dog sleeping so good with its paws jerking lightly because of the squirrels in his dreams that he must chase.

I hope to watch it all from the show behind my eyelids.

Didn't take time to see "Kill Bill Volume 2", but did see Steve and Aaron separately.

Taking a break from a busy day of work for lunch, Steve surprised me by showing up at Roman's in Studio City while I was finishing some last minute paper work.

We talked about animation and life. Work. And mostly, I talked about what I like to talk about best.

Me.

We walked down to a comicbook store called, "Earth 2" on Ventura, he bought some Spider-man stuff for his nephew and I watched him do it.

We split and I headed back to work on some very important crap.

After work Aaron and I had dinner and he showed me a new Res Magazine article about Micheal Gondry and his work. The guy is amazing and both Aaron and I find him very interesting.

Aaron had to head back to do some Sunday night work at Dreamworks and I had to finish up prepping my stuff.

I also have some video to edit and voice work for radio station WPBZ an alternative radio station in West Palm Beach where I'm the station voice.

Tomorrow my voice will be shot. I have much need for my voice Tomorrow, but it will be sore I'm sure.

I recently met a cool gal that I've had some great conversations with... Which might mean she listened to me talk without walking away.

She seems perfect to me, beautiful, smart, funny...

We walked outside from the shop where I first met her and standing there awkwardly wondering how to say goodbye and seem cool and leaving an opening for the next meeting...

She pulled out a cigarette a lit up...

My heart sank.

It's already over and it hasn't even started.

I'm such a loser.

Been having some problems with my page loading up, please hang in there baby...

Saw Tilda Swinton on Charlie Rose last night. She seems like a real trippy chick. I love her in movies and videos.

I remember hanging out with Matt Johnson from the band, The The years ago, and we were talking about Derek Jarmen and the group of hangers on he had living around him. Tilda was one of them.

Ever see, "Caravaggio?"

I bet she's had an amazing life.

She's in Mike Mill's new movie, "Thumbsucker" that ought to be pretty cool. I love his videos for the band, "Air."

It's been raining here in the Valley. I can tell because it's been hitting my air-conditioner and making some scary beats. The metal that houses the air-conditioner has a weird echoey sound.

I can see shadows of the rain running down my windows crawling across my ceiling. The security light is the perfect projector of this moist despair. The ceiling looks like it's alive. Sparks of explosions when a droplet of rain splashes against the glass as light is refracted and prismatic shinning momentarily through it.

Sleep comes easily this morning.

Waking up will be nearly impossible as I am thoroughly exhausted.

Yet turning off my thoughts is too difficult.

I'm thinking of moving to China.

I read that drive-in movie theatres are coming back in a huge way in China. People are packing in their cars and watching movies under a China moon.

It's just like the 60's was here in America, but with Chinese food instead.

Too bad Roger Corman doesn't speak Chinese.

Too bad I don't speak Chinese. Cause I'm still ready to run away.

I think that show "Globe Trekkers" is dangerous. Dangerous because I want to head out into those possible troublesome places and that show makes it all seem so wonderful and easy.

Then I feel sad when I can't figure out how to travel that easily.

Forrest Gump just started running across America, but they never showed him stopping to eat, or how he paid for it, or what he used to wipe his butt.

I remember in the 3rd grade we had a kid that was retarded who kept crapping his pants in class. His mom thought he was too old for diapers, but he didn't, so he'd happily let loose at his desk.

Everyday he'd do it and laugh.

He set alone a lot.

And that boy grew up to be...

No, not me.

I just wondered what would happen if he was reading this page now in some home and he found me writing about him? Then he sets out to kill me...

I can see the tag line for the book/movie...

"He use to crap his pants in class. Now, his classmates are the ones crapping their pants!"

I want to see, "Kill Bill: Volume 2" Tomorrow, but I imagine it will be really crowded. I'll have to hit the very earliest showing I can find.

Then if I'm not too worn out, maybe I can sneak into some other showings and make a festival out of it.

I'll pack some treats into my jacket, pants, shoes, and my stovepipe hat.

I find I can hide quite a lot of items in my Lincoln-like stovepipe hat.

I piddy the fool that sits behind me at the movies though. But when I take it off and pull out a few Subway sandwiches and 2 litter plastic bottle of Mugs Rootbeer, what can the nigga say?

It was weird watching "The Apprentice" last night.

The whole ending with the boardroom walls flying away to reveal a live audience. Strange. Like some Twilight Zone Episode where aliens are observing us behind see-through walls.

Donald Trump was also odd being "Live", but he was funny.

An estimated 27.6 million viewers tuned in to see Chicagoan Bill Rancic become, "The Apprentice."

The job he picked was a beautiful Chicago skyscraper project.

I hope Al-Queda wasn't watching.

John Malkovich is in "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," a Disney adaptation of the Douglas Adams novel.

Malkovich will play the religious cult leader, Humma Kavula.

I loved the radio show and the books, oh and the books on tape... I wish I had the lunchbox.

I've been working quite a bit lately, too much maybe, been meeting lots of new people and doing new things and learning new skills.

But I feel so insecure. Sad. I walk around with a lump in my throat like a scared child ready to cry at a moments notice.

I remember on my very first day of school crying because I missed my mother. She wasn't there to help me. She's not here to help me now either.

I have that kind of lump in my throat.

I hope it's not throat cancer.

I want to run away so badly, but where to? How?

I want to run away from myself too. How can I do that?

I need amnesia. To forget who I am and everything.

My stomach hurts all the time.

I need "Milk of Amnesia."

Books are funny things.

Unless there those very serious dull things with no pictures.

But funny when I see a book I think I really need. The cover is enticing me to pick it up. The copy of the cover suggests my life will be changed forever. The fact it's a 1st edition, so I need it now because it might grow in value. The author has signed it.

But can I really get rich from reading, "Trump: How to Get Rich" by Donald J. Trump?

For his birthday Little Patrick asked for a 10-speed
bicycle.

His father said, "Son, we'd give you one, but the
mortgage on this house is $80,000 and your mother just
lost her job. There's no way we can afford it."

The next day the father saw Little Patrick heading out
the front door with a suitcase.

So he asked, "Son, where are you going?

Little Patrick told him, "I was walking past your room
last night and heard you tell mom you were pulling
out.

Then I heard her tell you to wait because she was coming too.

And I'll be damned if I'm staying here by myself with an $80,000 mortgage and no fucking bike!"

I'm having strange things happen to my thinking Today...

I'd be going around with my normal business and something will trigger a thought or image in my head that just flashes for an instant and disappears.


It's like I'm starting to remember a dream and it fades away too quick to grasp it.

Or another TV station is bleeding through on the channel.
I hope I'm not going insane.

But we all know that's the case don't we...?

I met a writer today that has many books on the shelf. If I told you who he was, you'd probably know him, or his books.

I would brag about meeting him, but after he told me how his life was going, I wouldn't want to break his trust in speaking freely with me.

I was talking about how, when I see a series of books by an author, I automatically think he's wealthy... I don't know why that is, but I do. Even with all the horror stories I know about the publishing world.

He told me he was not doing so well, even with his sales doing okay. He said he started writing books to promote himself in his other business. A marketing ploy to get people to think he knew what he was talking about.

Then he just kept on cranking out books so he'd have something to plug whenever he was on tour.

But he told me that even with all his work out there his income from books have not been great.

He said the rest of his family is in the Transportation Industry and they all have done better than him with funds for retirement and property.

I was thoroughly depressed by all this news.

But then he told me when he went out on tours he got laid ever night by a different woman in a different city.

That was in the 60's though...

I told him I had seen him in a segment of a documentary on PBS a few months back and he looked like quite the stud.

He laughed and then asked me if I could help him up out of his chair. I shook his hand and pulled him up at the same time so he wouldn't be embarrassed being seen needing help getting out of the chair.

He patted me on my back and we walked to the bookstore door together.

I helped him into the passenger side of his Silver Rolls and a nice Black Lady drove him away.

Looks like he had a different definition to wealth than I do...

I spent the day at Wal-Mart in Panarama City where I was again the only White Man there.

It can be fun.

But today I think I over-drafted myself at my Bank. Boy, I hope not!

I got some good things though. Shirts and pants.

Things you hated getting as a kid, but really need as an adult.

Like what kid is thrilled to get a new box of Q-Tips?

I read that scientists have altered a mouse and he turned 136 in human years.

He wears little Adult Mouse Diapers.

I feel 136 in human years sometimes.

I know all my family in Missouri will be glad that Miss Missouri, Shandi Finnessey, 25, was crowned Miss USA at the 52nd annual pageant.

Finnessey, wrote a book called "The Furrtails," part of her goal to get retarded children into regular classrooms.

While it once was my goal to get out of regular classrooms and get some fur and some tail... Some of those are still my goals.

She has a master's degree in counseling and also plays piano and violin.

Showoff bitch!

I got a Graduation notice from my niece and in it was a photo of her.

Damn she's pretty!

I can't believe we're in the same gene pool.

I think someone peed in my end of the pool.

I wish I were pretty.

I just heard that John Stamos and Rebecca Romijn have separated.

See?

No matter how hot they are, there's always someone tired of that.

Today was really quiet.

Except for the punk band shooting their video next door.

That seemed to add zest to Easter and take up every parking spot on the street just like all of last week.

I thought I'd see more family get-togethers on my street, but then who wants to bring any family members around here?

I received a nice e-mail from the creator and CEO of Vintage Vantage regarding my previous post. He's cool alright! Bill Gates nor Donald Trump ever responded to my posts before.

People are clever about finding out where I live.

Tonight there was a nice package containing a note from a fan of my page saying that (She?) hoped this would cheer me up. The package also held a DVD of IFC's "A Decade Under the Influence" documentary.

The note had very nice penmanship, was signed by "Jan", and said, "I hope this will inspire you."

I had only seen one episode of the show when it aired so this is a nice surprise.

I hope "Jan" is a girl. Through some work I do, I have come across three "Jans" in the past few months and they are all flamboyant foreign guys whose names are pronounced, "Yawn."

If it's a dude that's okay too. I'm not Gay so I wouldn't want to lead anyone on, plus it'll take a lot more than a DVD to get in my trunk. Unless it is the Stanley Kubrick documentary, "A Life in Pictures."

I can't seem to find it without having to buy that whole Kubrick set.

Also, while I'm talking about DVD's... The other day Steve, Aaron and I were walking around Tower Records, I wanted to find my favorite episode of "Deep Space Nine", which happens to be the only full episode I ever watched...

It was about the Captain having a fever dream that he was a writer for an old pulp science fiction magazine. He wanted to write the story about "Deep Space Nine" and it's Black Captain, but the editor refused, because no one at that time wanted to see a Black man in space, unless it's without a spacesuit and oxygen tank.

I loved that episode, so I was willing to buy it, but the DVD's didn't have episode guides on them. They just tell the season, like season 1, or season 2...

Aaron said it was because anyone nerdy enough to shell out the cash for it would know the episode and the season in which it played.

Asshole!

I've been looking at digital personal recorders to carry around to record my fleeting and brilliant thoughts, but they are all expensive yet cheap looking. I would probably lose them as they are so small.

So I dug out one of my old trusty micro-cassette recorders to carry with me today as I drove around Studio City, Tarzana, and Burbank.

Just thinking good shit up...

I recorded a few gems, but mostly it nestled in my pants pocket as I walked around Borders and spied on a very cute employee named "Marine" who worked the front desk.

She had quite a line of customers waiting for her to ring up their purchases, but when it was my turn she smiled and asked me if I wanted to receive Borders daily e-mail newsletter?

I know they always ask that but she was smiling a great and wide smile when she did.

I politely passed by saying that I already receive it.

A lie.

Then she really started to flirt by asking me if I wanted my purchased Gift wrapped?

She didn't ask that of anyone else in front of me...

Why do I think she was flirting with me?

Because I bought a Sunday paper...

Hmmm?

I hemmed and hawed, and blurted out that just her placing it the plastic carry out bag was wrapping enough and since the paper was for me only I would go ahead and take it that she wrapped it with love.

Several people waiting in line behind me coughed that nervous cough you do when you have a showtime to meet and the elderly man dragging the oxygen tank in front of you has just collapsed to the ground dead at the ticket booth slowing you up for, "The Girl Next Door."

I put the receipt into my pocket and felt something like gritty sand all over the inside of my pocket.

I moved on and as I stepped out the door I took one quick glance back at her to see if she was watching me walk away wondering if she'd ever see me again and how she'd ever get a hold of me to ask me out...?

She wasn't looking at me, but she must have wanted to, but decided to jump head first into her work and assist her customers with their books, to block the pain of losing me.

As I walked to my lil' Honda I heard the sound of some young pretty girl's shoes running up to me from behind. I knew it was a young pretty girl's shoes because they had that kind of sound.

I smiled and turned knowing she couldn't let the connection we made fade away without at least saying something that might make our futures different than they are now.

It wasn't her.

It was a small guy with baseball cleats on running to get his jacket out of his SUV.

I pulled out my micro-cassette recorder and the batteries had completely dissolved into corrosive white dust in my pocket. I then realized it had been the same batteries that I've had in there for years.

Heartbroken I got into my lonely Civic all big and empty inside with no passenger, no girl, no one to talk to, no one to surf the radio dial looking for the perfect tune, no one to kiss and hold hands while trying to shift, no one to try and distract me while driving by pretending to be shifting with my weener after she's unzipped my pants and pulled it out for all those with vehicles larger than a Cooper Mini to look down into the driver side window and see my meat being slapped around.

No one...

I got a little misty eyed and choked up as I unfurled a few baby-wipes and washed the battery acid from my hands.

No?

No one.

I pulled a small travel size tube of hand lotion from the glove compartment and squeezed out a line that shaped a big "Zero" in my palm.

The alcohol in those wipes can dry out my delicate skin.

So I pulled the weenie out and me myself slapped it around all the way down Ventura Blvd...

Life can be sweet!

Today, or was it now Yesterday?... It was a busy and sometimes intense day. I met with my tax guy. It cost me $105.00.

I hope I can write that off. We did talk business.

This next year looks promising as it seems more money is coming in my direction. Tax wise next year might get more complicated for me.

Thank Gawd Lent is over right before I had my Taxes done, because I gave up cheating for Lent.

I didn't even realize Easter was coming up. I had planned on going to Wal-Mart, but who can tell how crowded it will be in Monrovia with Easter going on.

Traffic might be nice and lite. I wonder if Jesus had to deal with traffic when he resurrected.

I was going to do my usual dyeing testicles in Easter Egg colors and hiding in the bushes waiting for the kids, but I didn't get the dyes.

I did get some "Peeps" and I will give a shout out to my peeps once I gets around to it.

Aaron, Steve and I hooked up again at Roman's and then after a long ass smashing sit and chat hit the the Pacific Theatres for the Coen Bros. "The Ladykillers" but felt disappointed in it.

As the film played, I tried to stay with it, but my mind kept wandering back to the Tower Records Store in the Galleria that we stopped off as we were killing time before the movie and to the Stanley Kubrick book "A Life in Pictures."

I love that book and documentary. There's some great pictures of Kubrick and Peter Sellers, who also was in the original, "The Ladykillers" looking at various cameras.

I always wanted that book but never got it. Maybe it will be a reward for something I'll do soon.

Sometimes I feel like I talk too much when I'm out with people. I spend so much time alone that when I'm finally around someone I feel I rattle on.

I sometimes catch myself. I listen to how it must sound and then notice people either dosing or trying to quietly leave.

The leaving part is the saddest, because I think I have abandonment issues. I feel everyone leaves me eventually. Mostly I run them off and if they don't leave, I leave wondering why they stayed.

The worst is when they simple fall asleep while I am possibly making an important point or talking about something private and personal to me.

It can really be bad if they fall asleep as some have while I'm talking and they're driving.

On one occasion, I had the driver just step out of the moving car right in the middle of a sentence about how I felt as a child when I learned I couldn't fly like a bird I had let loose from a birdcage.

I watched him tumble and roll into the grassy median as I tried to gain control of the vehicle from the passenger side.

My last therapist fell asleep on me twice. Well, not on me physically.

I was on top.

I was listening to some audio of me dictating a novel I had been putting together a few months back, wondering if any of it was still good or relevant. I fell asleep listening to myself and woke up later very anger. I felt hurt. I had left myself down.

As usual.

Tonight I thought about stepping out of a moving car while driving.

I remembered dreams that had woke me up recently...

The ones where I come back from the bathroom and see myself laying in bed asleep.

Those I've had at least three times this last week. They really scare me and I sit up quickly in bed. I know I must yell when it happens, but I never quite hear myself, but it is intense.

My heart is pounding as I sit there staring off into the dark of the room trying to grasp the dream sifting away from my grip.

Maybe I'm leaving my body because my spirit has become bored of my body.

What if I left my body in search of another body and I find an empty one and start enjoying my life in it?

Then one day I run into my old body at a party. It's all happy and having fun with its new friends. It's remarried and having a great career.

I decide to go talk to myself. It's all uncomfortable at first. We talk about the old times. We go out on the balcony with our drinks.

The old feelings and sadness come back and I try to get back with myself, but I won't hear of it because I've met someone else and life is going good.

I leave the party in tears.

I sit in the car and cry.

I drive home and see a poster plastered on the plywood of a construction site that has my old body on it announcing a new film coming out.

I can't believe it. It wasn't ever me on the outside it was always me on the inside.

I drive down Sunset and already there's a strange feeling washing over me as the new body grows jealous of the emotions about the old me.

"If you love him so much why did you leave?"

The door opens. The car drives on. The wind blows in...

The car buzzes because the car is moving with the keys in the ignition, the lights on, and the seat belt undone.

The airbags explode on impact, but protect nothing from colliding with the dashboard as its contents were deposited on the road before the crash.

I lay on the pavement staring up at the stars in the sky wondering what in my brain doesn't work like the brains of happy people?

I want to be happy, yet when I'm around truly happy people I feel they might possibly be morons.

How can they just keep on smiling when it appears to me that we are swimming in mostly shit?

Is ignorance bliss? Or are the blissful ignorant?

Is it better to be happy and full of love and be stupid?

Or smart and sad?

Or rich and unhappy?

I was looking through a local paper that had printed a notice about a party I had put on and next to the photo they used was a picture of a girl I used to be very much in love with in Texas.

I couldn't believe it!

Is she living out here now?

She was still very beautiful in her photo. I tried to remember how we split apart, but all I remember was the fun we had and how much I loved her.

I probably screwed it up like I seem to do everything.

But as I looked at her photo, all I could really think about was the love that I once had for her. There wasn't any hurt or sadness as long as I stared at her photo.

I remember once my brothers coming down from Missouri to visit me in Dallas in this apartment building I lived. She was visiting me when they arrived and my brothers liked her immediately. She hung around a while then took off to leave us guys alone to talk.

As she walked to her car one of my brothers turned and said, "Man, I think she likes you. You should ask her out."

"Maybe I should. After all, we've been having sex for several weeks now."

My older brothers at the time couldn't seem to imagine that I was having sex before marriage.

Again. And again.

I remember when she and I first made love.

We had known each other for quite awhile. She was involved with my best friend at the time.

There was never any thoughts on my part about being anything more than friends. That easy comfortable closeness opened the doors for late night talks on the phone about music, films, people we knew and people we hated.

I was involved with a gal who was a heavy pot smoker and was having difficulty with that and she too was dealing with my friend, her boyfriend's pot smoking. So we had a lot to talk and commiserate about.

One night at my apartment she had typed up a screenplay I had written and outside in the hot tub some drunk nude folks began having sex.

We turned all the lights off in my apartment and started watching through the blinds.

We were laughing and giggling in that kind of silliness you get with little sleep and late night shenanigans.

Soon we started making out. It was so scary and exciting. We were out of our clothes and in my bed making love.

She was amazing. Long, thin, and beautiful. She had long pretty hair and a killer laugh.

When she came she cried out so loud it actually scared me.

On another time she was so noisy, I used a pillow to nearly smother her and silence her screaming.

Years later I called her after we had drifted apart. She had been seeing a guy she was very much in love with and who seemed very Conservative.

Her music was maybe not as important as it once had been. I loved her music and when she played for me on her piano it seemed just like magic.

The photo and mention of her in the paper was about her and her music.

I wonder if she ever thinks of me?

I hope it's good.

Earlier Today I was talking with one of my brothers about how my life has been going. I never mention her. I instead was talking about the TV show, "The Swan" and asked if he had been watching it?

He hadn't.

So I was explaining how they pick these girls who feel they are ugly and through plastic surgery and training turn them into "The Stepford Wives"...

At this point I was going to make a self deprecating joke about me and how I have been planning my cosmetic surgery. I was going to make a joke about getting a breast reduction. Man boob joke.

But my brother didn't catch it and then told me of his wish for his own surgery.

He felt his ears were too big. He felt he was looking too old. I sensed he wanted to stay pleasing physically to his wife who looks still very young.

It was sad to me.

I never think of my brother thinking or feeling this way, because I believe all my brothers are handsome in their own way. I feel of course that I'm the most handsome of my family, but it was a side of him I had never known.

I think we got closer over the phone.

If there was only a surgery that could remove that feeling of inadequacy we sometimes feel about ourselves.

Then we could all be stuck up bitches!

I can barely sleep.

I'm so excited.

Giddy with an effervescent spark of anticipation...

Huh?

I'm meeting my new Tax Guy Tomorrow!!!

My friend Steve hooked me up with him. He's also my friend Aaron's Tax dude. So since these guys haven't been audited by the IRS or the Scientologists... I should be okay.

I wonder what he looks like? How should I dress?

Should I tell him the truth? Or lie to him like I did my therapist?

I caught a great article in the Calender section of the Los Angeles Times...

I know.

I stopped reading the Calendar too after those horrible commercials they run before the movies out here.

Anyway, Today there was a cool article about the guy who started http://www.vintagevantage.com the greatest T-Shirt company on the web.

As far as I know...

I haven't really done a thorough investigation of website t-shirt companies.

This company and article had the coolest makings of a wonderful romance story. The guy sold his t-shirts on eBay and made these really cool quirky ads, well this groovy chick started responding to his ads and they became e-mail buddies.

Then they hooked up and started banging each other.

She gave up her career as a lawyer and shacked up with him and his t-shirts, now they're rich.

And I'm lonely, poor, ugly and sitting in ripped underwear writing to you about them.

Come to think of it...

I hate them!

But I love their t-shirts!

Maybe if I bought one of their cool tees, some cool groovy chick would fall in love with me and give up her law career.

(He looks around and sees the dump he lives in...)

Maybe she can love me and pursue law at the same time. I've very supportive of multi-tasking, hot, groovy chicks that make good money and can love me at the same time.

While wearing nuthin' but a cool t-shirt!

Life sometimes is so wonderful it's unbearable.

Then sometimes it's just so unbearable without being wonderful.

Sometimes the day is like a large piece of rocky and barren land that must be crossed before nightfall.

Then the night is filled with spiders and dark hidden things in the corners.

But worst of all the unending voices of self-talk that questions the choices you made earlier that day and for the rest of your life.

Sometimes one might as well find another job that takes up that time thinking about oneself... To fill that space with the concerns of something else other than, "What am I doing with my life?"

Sometimes sleep is no rest.

I often dream of trying to find my car in the parking garage of a large mall. I walk and walk with no luck.

I wake exhausted. Then go out and try and find my car on the street, hopefully were I parked it.

Sometimes I dream I'm out in the city without clothes and am trying to find some.

Maybe I left them in the car, parked in the garage.

I wake exhausted.

I wish just once I could dream of others in the nude.

Last night I has the great dream of an offshore oil rig...

Boring.

Just an oil rig. No plot or story to this dream. Just an oil rig out in the water.

An oil rig standing tall and erect with waves crashing against it. Trying to drown it.

I woke having to pee something awful.

I notice my skin was dry. After my shower I applied some baby oil to my weener...

Then thought of the dream of the oil rig.

Sometimes dreams do come true.

Tonight I'm going to dream really hard that my penis is a one armed bandit on a slot machine and J-Lo's mom is giving it a crank.

Wish me luck.

I'm in love with the host "Mandy" from KLCS's "Homework Hotline"...

I think she's really hot in that kinda dirty cool way.

I think with the name Mandy, she might have hippy parents, or parents that liked Barry Manilow... Either way she was probably raised with loose sexual values.

I wonder if I even have a chance at love with her.

She's probably married, or got a boyfriend, but there is the chance her TV show takes up so much time that she hasn't been able to juggle the media career with the love life.

I sometimes even call the number 1-800-LA-Study just to see if she'll talk with me, but no...

I sit here watching her being silly. She dances to the "Outcasts" song, "Hey Yall" or whatever it's called. I say her name and mine together over and over trying to reverse the transmission of signals coming to my Tee Vee set and beam my love directly into her funny lil' head.

Sometimes she looks high. Maybe that's the way she looks when she's thinking. Maybe she is tired from in fact juggling her career with her love of a partner.

I should be juggling my career instead of juggling nuts while watching her trying to understand the 7 Habits of Highly Effective Grammarians.

Those Standard Deviants can go fuck themselves, Mandy has taught me more about love and self abuse that those dorks ever have...

I have this fantasy that one day Mandy will be doing a Google search of her show and a link to my page will come up and she'll see my love and respect for her talents and in that fantasy she seeks me out for friendship instead of a restraining order.

We meet over salads. I imagine she eats salads. Once we have really started to get along we share a chocolate shake with two straws. We walk around the Farmer's Market picking out fruits and veggies. We laugh and laugh. We start to kiss, but she says, "Jerry, you're the coolest smartest guy I know right now, but I'm juggling my career and my time with social charities..."

Just then some old fart thinking the gas petal is the brakes starts piling through the market with his Lincoln Towncar. People are flying through the air. My Spidey-Sense kicks in and I pull her toward me as the car barely misses turning her into a stain on the parking lot.

She quivers in my arms. Stares at me. Stares at me as only Mandy can stare at me after all that...

...With that slightly high look. That look kinda turns me on.

I brush her hair out of her eyes and yes, there's that high look.

"I love you. I need you. Let's go to Borders and listen to music"

While daydreaming about this I see on TV she has a wedding ring.

I'm bummed...

Just then some old fart thinking the gas petal is the brakes starts piling through the market with his Lincoln Towncar. People are flying through the air. My Spidey-Sense kicks in and I pull her toward me as the car barely misses her and plows right over her husband.

"I'm sorry about your husband, Mandy. I wish I could have saved him too."

"That's really okay. We weren't that happy together. See, that high look I have is from crying all the time. I am like you. I don't smoke. But I am lonely. Lonely for someone like you Jerry. It's sad that my husband is dead with a Lincoln Towncar parked on his head, but as the sole recipient of his huge wealthy estate I'd say you and I are set for life."

"Wow. I truly love you Mandy."

"Me too. Now let's go to Borders and listen to some music and read some magazines!"

Last night I sat in bed reading a book about an old writer for pulp magazines who would basically crank out one book every two days.

It made me think about that old SNL bit where Dennis Miller (I think) was interviewing Stephen King (Jon Lovitz, I think) and at the same time King is writing and typing a book while answering questions.

It must have been a great time with everyone reading while waiting for the train. Excited about the next Hammett story in the next issue of Black Mask. Never imagining that one day all that would end just like Vaudeville and Jack Benny.

Memories yellowing like the fibers of wood pulp in paperbacks and comic books...

I read that Tim Story is to direct the new "Fantastic Four" film. He's the guy that did, "Barbershop", so I'm thinking the "Thing" will be played by Ice Cube.

I wish I could get all the comic books I sold at yard sales, traded for answers to tests, lost, or had been thrown away. I wouldn't even sell them. Just for me.

I wonder how much money it would take now to have all that back?

J. Lo's Mom hits $2.4 million Atlantic City Jackpot... And last night climbing into bed, I was so excited to find a quarter stuck to the bottom of my foot.

Is it a full moon or sumptin'?

I can't sleep. Me noggin won't shut down.

Just tossing and turning. Thinking of weird things:

Stuff I ate.

Why I crinkle up a wad of the bedsheet and hold it in my fist and why that seems to sooth me?

Why when I was a kid sleeping in the backseat of our old car with mom and dad in the front and the AM radio playing a ballgame with lightning static while we drove at night seems like perfect security to me now?

Taxes.

Why my nefew Sam and his wife Lori's son, Damian (18 months) had a new baby sister, Piper Hannah Rose Lentz born Saturday morning premature... only 2 lbs. 14 oz. and will need heart surgery in the near future and then again when she is 6 to 12 months old... ?

Hope you got to see Peter Jennings' Jesus and Paul special...

I thought it was Fucking awesome!

I wished I had recorded it.

Much better than his special about Ecstasy or whatever the drug was, but man I would love to take a trip to all those location that Peter Jennings went on that special.

Hope all is well with you.

I wonder if Jesus counted his sheep to help him sleep?

I imagine if he didn't get his rest...

The next morning he was cross.

Went to see "Eternal Sunshine..." with Aaron at the Vista last night.

Man! That has to be the best and most heartbreaking film I've ever seen. In some ways I thought of "Slaughter House Five", but mainly I thought about my x-wife.

I also thought about Billy Bob Thorton and Angelina Jolie...

I don't know why...

I felt very weird after seeing it.

There were so many things in that film that I do and think of...

We later ate at Mel's Drive-In over on Highland where you can see an entire wall mural of a young George Lucas directing "American Graffiti" and pay almost three dollars to park in their parking lot.

Aaron left in serious thought and I felt depressed as I went to work editing video that bored me as it flickered in front of me out of focus due to lack of energy in my eye muscles. I deleted any saved edit changes and left to drive around parts of Hollywood I've never seen or dared drive in day time let alone the late hour it was...

In Little Armenia, on a tiny street I saw a pretty girl about 25 years old sitting on a street corner crying all alone. Something bad must have happened to her. I watched her while waiting for the light to change. I tried not to be too nosy, but since it wasn't a light at all, and instead a stop sign... I looked like trouble.

I drove away with unanswered questions.

In bed on my back staring at a spider making its way across the water stains on the ceiling, I wanted to cry. I had a huge lump in my throat. I had that slight sore throat you get when you suppress a real bad oncoming cry.

I didn't let it loose.

I had bad dreams.

Flipped my pillow a lot.

Thought someone was in the corner of the room once.

Stubbed my pinky toe on the way to a pee.

Later sat on the edge of my bed in the dark and wondered how my life came to this...

Today Steve upgraded my Mac to OSX to complement the other machines I use for work. We spent all day together and he was great to do it for me.

He showed me a short documentary about old style animation and the making of the great old "Popeye" shorts.

We watched a bit of the, "Star Wars: Clone Wars" animation, or whatever it's called.

He told me about a friend that snuck into a movie theatre with a stack of BBQ ribs in his pants because he was so hungry and the concession stand crap wasn't going to cover it. Yet he didn't get in with it because the theatre management stopped him and forced him to remove the sticky food from his pants.

How would you explain that sauce in your underwear to your wife later?

I was so excited last night! I came home and found a package containing the new book Ray Harryhausen: An Animated Life (Billboard Books)...

Cool Beans, man!

It has all the behind the scenes into his effects and stuff. I'm ready to go make a stop-motion non-computer fantasy film...

As soon as I finish the book, take a nap and think it over for a few years...

Today is Farmer's Market day in the Larchmont Village and all the stars were out with either their dogs or babies, and sometimes both.

I bought some kettle korn from a really cute girl who was saddened by the low turnout for her caramel creations. I doubt I will eat it, but maybe I can give it to a friend.

I hung out with Aaron, Steve and John all either animators, CGI Guys, or Mac Men at Roman's in Studio City where we held the chairs down and kept them from flying up and hitting the ceiling for over 5 hours. We shut the place down!

Man, we can talk and talk about crap for days on end and still not get enough of that good lovin' stuff...

Roman's is a fun place to hang out and watch rude Middle Easterners act like the own the World. Okay, some do, but do they have to act so mean?

Michael a friend who runs the place was reading a book that sounds like I'll have to read next, cause he seemed really into it... Dan Simmon's "Carrion Comfort", the story's about a group of psychic vampires who quench their thirst for violence by controlling others at a distance. It also sounds like it has a lot of cool conspiracies theories about Politics and that kind of stuff.

I know it must be good cause Michael was working serving customers and he was reading the book at the very same time. That's multi-tasking!

And rude!

But he's not Middle Eastern, he's a Valley Guy!

I've been listening to Air America's broadcasts lately and they are good. Al Franken is a very funny guy. I guess I'm just getting tired of talk radio that yells and screams. There are only a few shows on Air America that do that, but almost every Conservative Talk Show does yell and scream...

I see that because of Bob Edwards demotion from NPR's Morning Edition many members were withholding contributions from their local stations. That's pretty cool that he has such a following.

I wish I were loved and respected by so many people.

I wonder how one does that? Get loved by so many...

I guess one must do something that touches many people.

I use to go around touching people, but was issued a restraining order for the few that didn't like it.

Maybe I should find another way to give and receive love.

Or just come up with a way to make lots of money. Cause its seems people love people with money.

Although, I would watch a reality TV show where a homeless guy teaches five contestants how to live an exciting life on the streets. Each show a loser is voted off by being flushed down a drainage ditch, stepping on an infected heroin syringe, or hauled away in a garbage truck after a night of sleeping in a dumpster. It would be the opposite of "The Apprentice", but more like "Fear Factor" because of what the people have to eat out of the trash. Put some hot chicks in there and I think you got a show that will write it's own check.

But really I just want to be loved.

Making money is just too hard...

Thank Allah it's Friday!

So many things to do and so little energy to do them. I need to find me a drug that will work for me.

I watched a bit of Peter Jennings Special Report last night about the drug, "E"...

Man, did a show ever want ever want to make me run out and try it...

I know those kind of shows are meant to stear you away, but I was ready to hit the club scene after seeing that show.

Anyone who loves scrambled eggs, or roasted chicken, will love this story...

Britain considered using live chickens in a nuclear weapon.

Archives released a secret 1957 Ministry of Defense report showing that scientists contemplated putting chickens in the casing of a plutonium land mine.

The chickens' body heat was considered a possible means of preventing the mine's mechanism from freezing.

Listing ways of extending the armed life of the land mine, the declassified document proposed "incorporating some form of heating independent of power supplies under the weapon hull in the emplacement. Chickens, with a heat output of the order of 1,000 BTU (British Thermal Units) per bird per day are a possibility."

A prototype survives in the historical collection of the Atomic Weapons Establishment, a government agency which has its headquarters at Aldermaston west of London.

I wish we could use them now in Falluja.

U.S. troops vowed to use overwhelming force to enter the volatile Iraqi town of Falluja and hunt down those who killed and mutilated four American contractors.

The U.S. military death toll last month was the second highest of any month since President Bush declared major combat over on May 1 last year.

At least 50 American troops died in Iraq in March, according to Pentagon figures. The deadliest month for U.S. forces was November, when 82 U.S. troops died.

At least 407 American troops have been killed in action in Iraq since U.S.-led forces invaded on March 20 last year to topple Saddam Hussein.

Guerrilla attacks in March also killed at least 16 foreign civilians, including the four who died in Falluja on Wednesday.

I mean really...

I'm paying almost $3.00 for a gallon of gas, can't we just nuke them and take the oil. They hate us anyway. And if these killings are by just a minority, why doesn't the ones who like us, supposedly the majority, kill the minority?

Can't the FCC do something about this? Can't we send the FCC in there with the nukes?

Let's get those KFC nukes and have the FCC deliver them!

In more important news...

Go to sleep America. Pay no attention to what is really happening.

This IS Reality...

Sir Richard Branson founder of the Virgin Group, has signed a deal with Fox for a new TV series called "Branson's Big Adventure."

The new series featuring the billionaire best known to the American public for stunts like trying to circle the world alone in a balloon.

Branson will take a select group of America's best and brightest around the world, reliving his experiences and dealing with business dilemmas.

Maybe they can find the Weapons of Mass Destruction?

Then use them.

Remember...

Everyday is April Fool's...