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April
18, 2002
4:43pm Thursday
IT'S
FRIDAY NIGHT AND YOU'VE GOT NO STEEL
That'd
be a good title for tomorrow's entry but I probably won't be writing
one because my plans are so astronomically huge i'll have no time.
Usually we eat Tommy bugers and watch America's Funniest Home Videos,
seriously, and then either retreat to our individual computers and
projects or he falls asleep and I watch a movie or we go to Barnes
and Noble and read magazines. This is our life in Los Angeles, 2002.
But tomorrow we're having dinner with our friends in their new Pasadena
house where I will get drunk on gallons of cheap red wine and then
afterwards let Gray, who is a very mediocre driver compared to me
and my exemplary freeway skills, drive home. Maybe not astronomically
huge plans.
Today
at lunch Gray announced he's going to change his name to Fellatio.
I said why and he said "Because everyone likes Fellatio." I don't
need to change my name to Fellatio because everybody already likes
me and looks at me first at baby showers when my name is called!
I made a website with the baby shower pictures I took and now everyone's
going to like me even more. The only chink in my plan is that they're
all old ladies and don't believe in "computers."
Tomorrow
Paul gets a rabies shot and then maybe we'll take him to the dog
park if he's lucky. Perhaps I'll paste in a photo of Paul now.

Nothing
cool's been happening, no new shoes like last week, and the line
at the post office has been short since taxes are over and done
with and so I don't get to eavesdrop on conversations or get accosted
by slightly less than normal older ladies wanting my pen, so life's
been bland. Did I mention when I got my hair cut for a thousand
dollars last week that one of the guys in the salon walked up to
me and stuck his foot next to my foot and we had the same shoes
on? I started gushing about them, started to talk about the designer-fraudulator,
and he walked away. Maybe he couldn't hear me over the roar of the
cutting shears.
Blade
last night, by the way: Spoiler ahead! = Boooooorrrrring. Jeez.
Guillermo Del Toro or whatever the hell is not all that. What a
hack job, just a super sack of lame. And Big Trouble I loved for
all the wrong reasons - I loved it to mock it. It was so obvious
it's been chopped to pieces in the last seven months, I counted
so many inconsistencies I can't tell you. And apparently the writer's
favorite joke (who was the writer? I don't know) was "Why don't
you take X and stick it up your ass!" I counted that three
times, and that was after I actively started counting. Parts were
pretty funny, I'm a sucker for the Guy Ritchie freeze-frame, and
it had a great ensemble cast - too many to list. That Zoe Deschanel
girl is really fricking droll-funny. Tim Allen was onscreen for
like three seconds, and I think Johnny Knoxville got a million bucks
for his underwhelming four-minute assyjackness. Poor Barry Sonnenfeld.
He's usually so much more delightful.
My
music recommendation for the day: (by the way a new Pet Shop Boys
CD is coming out soon): a song called "Q" by a band called "Film".
It's a little mellow, a little quasi-Creed, but delightful to falsetto
alongside with.
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