my friend and future biographer

Matt: but see, one day when i'm bored, i'll go through some old chats, and this one won't be in there, and that's upsetting to me.
when i write a book about you someday, i'll need access to this stuff.
me: you're writing a book about me?
Matt: someday i assume i will have to yes.
me: you'll have to?
Matt: i assume so yes.
me: because i'm going to die young or because the story is worth telling?
Matt: because people will want to know about you . . . the real you.
and i'll do it for the money, and sell you out.
me: no one knows the real me.
i feel so... so, lonely.
Matt: because you will become a genius shut in director who hates people,
and i will cash in on that.
i will talk to 20/20 and dateline,
and earn money for every interview,
and finally after 49 years our friendship will finally pay off for me.

Escape (The Pina Colada Song)

i love this song, and Rupert Holmes is a classic example of the Eddie Murphy theory that you can make it as a singer, even if you're "an ugly muthafucka."

true talent

what's amazing is how Portman really captures and makes tangible the angst of gangsta rap. she is truly a gifted actor. as sarcastic as that sounds, it's fuckin' true. she's good.

The State

i just came across a few clips from the State. this show was hilarious.

hold me
hormones
barnfolk
tapeface

couldn't find any on YouTube, but i didn't really look that hard. if you know where i can see more, do tell. rumor has it a DVD will be out this fall.

untitled

and i need to write...

it's funny. i live at home (and by home, i mean the home where your mom and dad live too, and it's the place where you grew up and the place you try to get away from all your life, but inevitably you come back to at some point... it's just a matter of how long you stay) in a place that isn't busy, it's quiet and peaceful and it's the type of place where others vacation and i have a few jobs that require very little of my time and peers say "oh man! living at home! come move to _______ [insert NY or LA]!" but i say it's good because i've been so busy for so long and now i can just be home and just write and get 'it' all down, and start working on these projects, these IDEAS, and sadly that's all they are, just ideas... still.

i don't anticipate that i'll create my 'masterpiece' anytime soon. i'd love to, but it's just not ready to spit itself out yet. it's not on the tip of my tongue, but it's in there, i swear, it's just floating around picking apart pieces of stories of my life, and your life, and the lives on the TV, and putting them all together into this one (or two or three) bigger story/ies. maybe soon it will make its way down to my tongue and you'll hear me talking about it and i'll be excited because it's in its last trimester, ready for the printed page and then you can read it and tell me how bad it is and i can rewrite it and you can say it's better, and i can rewrite it and you can tell me it's good because really you can't read it again, but you'll trust that i made the changes you suggested and because of that it's good now...

but until then, this is a start. this is me calling myself out. i don't know who will read this. i doubt very many people at all. but it will be here for anyone to read and i will know it's here, and i will know that you can read it, and i'll feel your pressure, the nagging "so have you started it yet?" pressure... and i will.