Emu Emo.

Nicole, Lady of the Ostriches

Play Freebird!

I swirled mine a little too vigorously.

The patio at Lincourt/Foley vineyards.

Nicole, a little snokkered at said vineyard.

This was a tough guy that worked at the Foxen Vineyards tasting room. Touch that tennis ball at your own peril.

I love pictures like this

A Cry For Help

Please, friends, help me help myself. I use the word "lovely" faaaaaar too much.

"How's it going, John?"
"Lovely, how are you?"

"Hey John, how have you been?"
"Lovely, thank you."

"How was your weekend?"
"Lovely."

I don't mean to do it. At this point, it's an instinct. But I need to deny it and change it. If I were someone else, it would drive me insane that my answer to any question was the same word, much less that word being "lovely."

If you catch me saying the word, please...call me on it. I can't do this without your support.

WTC, OC, Oh.

I was talking to someone at work earlier this week who was saying how enthused she was to see Oliver Stone's "World Trade Center." Her reason was that she wants to be reminded. She said she thinks we all should be reminded. My thing is...I haven't forgotten. It was five years ago. I don't need to be reminded. Does anyone feel they need to be reminded at this point?

I enjoy finding new music, especially from emerging artists I have never heard of. What's beginning to get on my nerves is that so often when I find something new, it's already been pimped by "The OC," "Grey's Anatomy," or some other hip television show. It says it on their website if it doesn't have a big sticker proclaiming it on the cd packaging. I understand why it's there. I do. But I don't like it. Imagine you are out wandering in the woods and you happen upon a hidden trail. You follow it and find it to be quite a gem. It leads to a beautiful waterfall, hot springs, and cave. At this point, you're having a nice little Saturday, a real genuine, unique experience. You walk inside the cave only to find the words "The OC Was Here" spray painted in hot pink on the cave walls. It doesn't ruin the day or anything. The trail is still the trail, the cave is still the cave, but it's just kind of like.....Oh.

Say you meet some girl (or guy) and you think they're the cats pajamas. You start getting all excited and falling in love and thinking about the future (prematurely, of course) and then you find out they are a porn star. Oh.

Keep your damn stickers off my damn CDs! I don't give a frog's fat ass if The OC pimped a song off this album to tenderize a sad montage with acoustic guitar and whispery vocals! If I like it, I like it and if I do, I don't want to associate it with fictional spoiled Newport Beach teenagers.

la la la

There is a guy I work with who for at least 9 consecutive months has 1) worn a polo shirt and 2) had his lunch delivered to his next, never leaving the building all day.

There is a girl I work with who wears the same white skirt no less than 3 times a week.

Why do I care? I don't. Wear whatever you like. Wear the same thing for 2 years straight if ya like...but don't think nobody notices.

I watched "The Family Stone" last night. Not really a Christmas movie but the setting was a small New England town at Christmas. I know it's August, but what can I say? It was nice.

"It's so hot...milk was a bad choice."

Isn't the workplace supposed to be a safe haven from the ungodly heat of july in The Valley? Why is it 87 in my office right now?

It's like a chili dog outside.

If they don't get the air cranked up, by 4 pm today it's going to be like the steam drawer they keep the hot dogs in at the movie theaters.

VEGAS!!!! (And other fun times from Chirag and Kristen's visit)

Great to see Chirag again. Just like the old days!

These are the people below us that were looking up Heather's skirt all night which she smartly parlayed into free shots for all of us. The woman in the blue would flash us moments after this photo was taken.

VEGAS!

It was the highlight of the trip and we came this close to not going.

The beauty of the Voo Doo Lounge is the incredible view...and the Go-Go dancers.

mmyup

Old college buddies.

same...

In a limo heading downtown...

A little bonfire action. The fire got bigger.

This can be seen every day and yet I hadn't seen it in about a year. Shameful.

"New shit has come to light..."

I am proud to announce the end of secrecy on this blog! I have disabled comments from non-registered users so as to shed the light of day on those commenters who prefer to lurk in the shadows. Since Blogger membership is completely free, there's no reason they can't join up and take some responsibility like the rest of us. Mr. or Mrs. Anonymous, show yourself!

What a weekend

HUGE weekend. Action-packed!

Friday night -- karoake at Acapulco where I rocked Kharma Chameleon (w/Nicole), Can't Fight This Feeling, and The Gambler (w/Nicole and Jim) ... proceeded to Dimple's, aka the worst bar in America, where a loaded Jim began telling everyone we were all on the new sitcom, "Happy Hour." Who should go up on stage to sing Piano Man, but oneDennis Haskins, aka Mr. Belding. Jim, of course, asked the waitress to bring Mr. Belding over to meet us since we have this new show...just as I was about to get up before it got any worse, here he came, the man himself. At this point, I felt reeeeeeally reeeeeeally bad. As it turns out, whether he bought Jim's story or not, he was very gracious and a good sport. Kudos, Mr. Belding.

Pancakes a la Bob's Big Boy.

Saturday -- Dodgers vs. Giants in a high-octane slugfest. Cold beer, grilled Dodger Dogs (a more tasty version of the original), and, of course, what's a Dodger game without a fight in the stands?

Saturday night -- fine folks came over to look at some european vacation photos and watch the best of triumph the insult comic dog. I inadvertantly gorged myself on cheese and crackers.

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday! -- World Cup Final that I almost ruined do to bad navigating of the DVR...still got to see the heinous head butt and the bullshit penalty kicks. Someone on the radio noted that this is the equivalent of watching an NBA Finals game go two overtimes only to be settled on a best-of-five freethrow shooting contest. Lame.

Sunday Night -- Pearl Jam at the Forum! AHHHHHHH!!! I have never called myself a Pearl Jam fan, but I'll be damned if this wasn't one of the greatest rock shows I have ever seen. They played for about 27 hours straight. The "encores" lasted as long as the main part of the show. Tim Robbins came out and sang an acoustic anti-Bush song with Eddie. I wondered how this show, which took no time in calling Dick Cheney the "world's biggest asshole," would have played in a Red state. Not that I really cared. The show culminated with the last two songs being played to a fully lit (no stage lighting) house which was really cool. Felt kind of like a daytime show at a fair or something. They really left it all out there on the stage, I tell ya. And the crowd was the best crowd I have ever seen at a concert, hands down. Just awesome. All around, a kick-ass, feel-it-in-your-bones, blow-the-roof-off kind of show.

Of course, when I tried to discuss this with a certain friend of mine this morning (let's call him Mike), I was reminded that there are two kinds of music fans, those that welcome new fans of their favorite band and those that have some sort of snotty possessive thing with their band. When trying to share in the experience of the awesome show, which I knew Mike had gone to as well, I was promptly reminded that I was NOT a Pearl Jam fan and that several times I had said something negative upon hearing them played in his car. Weeeeell, pardon the fuck out of me. I guess I have no right to change my mind about something. I guess only the true, lifelong fans of the band have a right to enjoy their concerts. I'm really against this kind of fanship. They treat it like you're jumping on the bandwagon of their favorite sports team right after they win a championship or something. Come on, this is music. Shouldn't we be encouraged to try things new bands or bands that we don't normally listen to anway? Is there something wrong with a great show making a fan out of somebody? I guess there is to Fan B, the music equivalent of a Star Wars Nerd.

Today -- Peterson returned from her vacation and brought me a couple gifts to show her appreciation for my covering for her whilst she was away, a customary practice in our office. The first gift was an inflatable Superman punching bag, the kind with the weight at the bottom that pop back up after you hit them. I love it, but the smell of plastic was so strong that it was giving me a headache and, thus, Superman has had to be moved out into the hall. Her second gift? It is a magnet set of different cat breeds...and their assholes. That's right, the five individual magnets are artists renderings of various cats as seen from behind, all with their balloon knots prominently featured. I want it to be funny, but it's too disturbing.

Illiterate Airborne Terrorists

--So I am enjoying a beautiful July 3rd at Zuma beach. I am laying on my stomach reading "This Side of Paradise" and snacking on red seedless grapes. Suddenly, mid-sentence, a huge glob of brown mucas-like paste is slapped upon my pages, splashing onto my arm. A seagull shat on my fucking book. I picture that little son of a bitch circling overhead looking down on me and, like Jeff Daniels in "The Squid in the Whale," smuggly scoffing at my book as "early Fitzgerald." Snobby little shit.

--Is the 4th of July really the 4th of July if you don't see a single firework?

HAPPY 4TH OF JULY!

Have a safe, sane, and altogether pleasant weekend, my compatriots.

Spicey Latinas (and other news)

--I crave The Claim Jumper like no other today.

--Good news, I am a published co-author! As most of you know, my friend Meghan works for Playboy, writing copy for their porn sites. This morning she needed a fresh voice while trying to come up with a hook for the upcoming Latina Channel on one of their sites. After a few minutes of careful creative collaboration, we came up with the following:

These Spicey Latinas prove what a hot tamale really is. Going south of the border never looked so good.

Man, it sure feels good to be writing again.

--Do you ever have those "only in LA" moments? Moments that might not literally only happen in Los Angeles yet they seem to embody the city or the image of the city to a T. I had such a moment yesterday...I picked up the special BBQ issue of "Bon Apetit" magazine this week at the sto and happened upon a recommendation for a restaurant in Santa Monica called Wilshire. They spoke highly of the patio experience there. So I went to Citysearch to read more about it. I happened upon the following User Review:

Wilshire-sucks
Posted by yrrogers on 04/02/2006
I was disappointed in Wilshire. My friend and I arrived Sat. night at 10:20 pm and had to wait in line. The line attendant was very rude and filled with false self importance. After about 10 minutes we got in. The crowd was older (30-40) and not that attractive. We wanted to check out the back bar but a bouncer was guarding the entrance like it was Fort Knox. We got vodka sodas and they were $11 each. We didn't eat anything so I can't comment on the food. When we left 40 minutes later there was no line and the bouncer seemed disappointed and bored. I wouldn't go back there or recommend it.

Obviously, Mr. or Mrs. Rogers has a couple of relevant points. If the staff was unfriendly or snotty, I would like to know that before I commit to the restaurant. The line that stands out to me is when Rogers says "The crowd was older (30-40) and not that attractive. " Well, shit, I really wanted to try the place out but if only the ugly people eat there, forget it. What's the point of going to a restaurant where there's no attractive people, right? Who can eat when surrounded by such hags? What about the fact that Rogers and Co. felt compelled to write a restaurant review despite the fact that they did not eat at the restaurant?

I swear...only in LA would someone rate a restaurant based almost entirely on how beautiful the patrons were.

Razor at the ready...

I am getting bored with my moustache. I think its days are definitely numbered.

"Strong men also cry..."

So here's what happened. Bernie and Kathy (lovers) were in New York, strolling through Central Park as lovers often do. They happened upon a picturesque bridge and Bernie had the wild idea to take a picture. He asked an unknown passerby if he wouldn't mind taking a picture of he and Kathy. So he hands him the camera and goes back to Kathy to pose for the photo. BUT(!) rather than posing, he pulls an engagement ring from his pocket, takes a knee and proposes marriage...all whilst the stranger is capturing the entire scene on digital media in a series of six photographs. I have only displayed one of them here, but the series covers it all: the initial "whaaa?" as he is still standing and pulling something from his pocket, the realization and subsequent joy when he takes a knee, the flood of tears and emotion, the slipping of the ring onto the finger and the smile as it all becomes real. It's impossible to look at these photos and not get a little choked up! Isn't that the coolest thing? How many people have this moment captured on "film?" How many people have photos that capture the raw emotions of any significant moment in their lives? It's just a rare thing to be able to record because you never know when they are going to occur and when they do, you're often preoccupied with living them. Sure, we all have graduation photos (assuming you graduated), wedding photos (assuming you're married), but how precious is it to have a moment as intimate as a proposal captured for all time? I would equate it to having a photo of one's first kiss. Isn't that coolest?

Way to go, Bernie. Good show, ol' boy. Good show indeed.

The Power of Postage and "Mahogany"

--I went to the post office over lunch and while I was there, I observed their upcoming series of stamps, the "Stop Domestic Violence" collection. I'm all for stopping domestic violence, but aren't some causes just too big to be tackled with postage stamps?

--I also went to buy a greeting card and, for whatever reason, a certain type of card really stood out to me. I'm talking about the African-American cards. You've seen them, they're the cards with prominent drawings of African-Americans on them. I remember when I used to work at Hallmark the series was called "mahogany" which is another issue in and of itself. But anyway, why are these cards necessary when every other card-buying race is represented in one racially-unspecific pool of cards? Are the sentiments contained in greeting cards not universal? Do African-Americans say "Happy Birthday" differently than the rest of humanity? I gave three Father's Day cards this year and none of them featured a human figure on them at all much less a specific drawing of a Caucasian man. Was there a "Birch Wood" collection that I missed? I'm not sure if the technology is there yet, but I think the next revolution will allow us to buy cards where we can have the skin color added custom, right there at the point of sale. "Excuse me, this card is for my friend who is half Portuguese, one quarter Ugandan, and one quarter Taiwanese. Can you shade the skin color accordingly? Do you sell stamps?" I realize that these Afro-centric cards are just an option and that not all thoughtful, card-giving African-Americans are prone to buy these cards. It actually wouldn't surprise me if the sales demographics for African-American cards were similar to those of African-American-dominated rap music, i.e. mostly white kids trying to be cool or funny. Why were these created? Were Hallmark and American Greetings attempting to be sensitive and forward-thinking or was there a public outcry for these cards? Doesn't it seem like one of those times when the whole family is eating beef tenderloin but little Jimmy wants to be difficult and insists that Mom make him some Spaghetti-O's? Okay, let's assume for a second that the Mahogany Collection is not a little weird and is socially justified and loved by all races of this multi-cultural community. Why are the Mahogany cards always such shitty cards? They're never funny and rarely poignant. They're the cards that look they were thrown together in five minutes at the end of the day on a Friday before a holiday weekend. Is this not racism?

Bring us the funk, gotta have that funk

I was in an inexplicable funk yesterday and it seems to have carried over into today. Couldn't tell you what the cause is. I have no idea. Nothing on my mind, nothing particularly bothering me (other than Michelle Branch, of course). Kind of a mental, emotional mononucleosis type of thing. I don't know what I want and I don't want anything. Tired, just want to lay down and read...or sleep.

Fuck you too, Michelle Branch.

In a recent interview with People Magazine, recording artist Michelle Branch was asked how her parents felt when she first started dating her 41-year-old husband, bassist Teddy Landau. Her reply?

"My parents hated the idea--and now love him, of course. My dad never wanted me to be with a musician. I mean, how unrealistic is that? I'm not going to fall for an accountant!"

Of course not! What a zany notion! Accountants are so boring. All they think about is numbers. All they are capable of comprehending or discussing are digits and cost reports. It's not like they are unique, interesting individuals who have opinions and passions about things outside of their life at work. There's just no way that someone as artistic and deep as Michelle Branch could possibly ever fall in love with someone that simple. It's laughable! HA!

THE TIME HAS COME

Somebody pass me a PBR.

Airline Safety

As my backpack rolled through the x-ray machine at my British Airways gate at the airport in Prague, I noticed a sign listing prohibited items such as pocket knives, box cutters, and corkscrews as well as a big container where those and other items had been confiscated. At that point, I remembered that I had a corkscrew in my backpack and I thought for sure I was going to be pulled aside for a body cavity search. Nope. Out rolled by backpack with the corkscrew, which also has a small knife for cutting the foil from a wine bottle, safely stowed inside. When we connected in London, I tested the security there as well and, sure enough, it made it through again. Comforting chain of events, no?

Some pics....

The Churches/Cathedrals/Basilicas were otherwordly gorgeous

While I was disappointed to see that every one of the beautiful cities we visited was defaced with ridiculous amounts of grafitti (literally evrywhere), it was nice to see some of the little hooligans hearts' were in the right place

Prague at night....quite haunting

I was reluctant at first but Prague did ultimately claim the crown (pun intended) for the Best Beer in the World. Pssst.....we brought home 20 pints in our luggage.

On the Charles Bridge

Praha

Praha

The Astronomical Clock at Old Town Square in Prague

At a Hoyergen (wine village thingy) on the fringe of Vienna

Fans of "Before Sunrise" will understand why the wheel at Prater was so exciting

We would later kiss...but we did not make out.

World's Largest Wienerschnitzel

And I killed it!

The Hofburg Palace in Vienna...if you're into that sort of thing

The overnight train rides were what I imagine sleeping on a submarine must be like, claustrophobic

But the scenery was nice when we were conscious

I shit myself at this point.

Gelato, twice a day everyday. No lie.

Venezia! (I have every intention of using Photoshop to remove the unsightly crane in the background)

Yeah yeah yeah Notre Dame...

Museum D'Orsay

Any fans of "Before Sunset" will understand why this bookstore was so exciting to visit

This was at a very cool underground jazz club in Pear-E

Turns out alcoholics look the same in most countries.....I also learned that "Jack Daniels" is one of the few words that translates the same in any language

Callled SmartCars......until you get totalled by a collision with a Mini at 25 Kph at which point they become IdioticCars

Coffee (cafe) on Champs Elysees in gay Pear-E

No stowaways! Walk the plank, feline froline!

And We're Back!

This is where my mind thinks I am right now.