Monthly Archives: October 2019

i had my 10th carls jr beyond meat burger last night

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i was reading exodus tonight for busblog bible study.

this is why i get all the chicks, fyi.

and old moses is telling pharaoh to let his people go an pharoah is all pound sand hebrew

it’s an interesting dance of pharaoh wanting to let them go because moses is just fucking egypt up with blood in nile which kilt the fish and the dead fish were all stinky

or frogs everywhere, even in the ovens

then all these fucking flies swarming everywhere

which i gotta say is a wickedly creative plague to sick on someone because it doesn’t matter if youre rich of poor, a swarm of flies is gonna ruin your day

but pharoah wants to be cool to moses but God keeps hardening pharoahs heart

which got me thinking this

what if the mean girls in the cafeteria dont wanna be mean but their hearts are being hardend

so you’ll have a reason to perform a magic trick.

which will free your people.

your sweet friends who have it hard enough trying to make bricks in the hot sun, but then taskmaster is like ok now do it with no straw.

your amigos cant even express their religion properly because one of the things the jews did back then

is they liked to sacrifice white cows.

egyptians were like wtf, none of that! even though they had no problem being dick masters to human slaves, they drew the line in regards to killing certain animals and one of them was the super rare white cow.

meanwhile, Moses’ buds liked to sacrifice white cows Because they were rare and were saying to God, we love you so much we will give this to you because its the best and weirdest and coolest and most beautifulest and killer cow – and it’s yours because you deserve the best.

like you and me, Moses loved his friends so much he forgot he had stagefright and was softspoken and not as handsome as his brother Aaron, he just went up to pharoah and said dont make me put boils all over you AND your magicians,  cuz i will if you dont let em go, and i will take delight watching these boils fester and make baby boils on top of the boils.

inspiration can come from many things. revenge is one.

love is another.

and harder.

i think thats the lesson of exodus.

LA is burning about 20 miles north

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maybe 15, who knows. but i can smell it and my nose is irritated so ive been blowing it

its sorta too bad i wasn’t a dad because i can tell

easily

if someone had been smoking in a house. perfectly.

YOU GIRLS COME DOWN HERE RIGHT THIS MINUTE

what daaaaaaaad? 

I’m going to smell your fingers! Someone has been smoking?

OMG gross much? Geeze! 

Oh I’ll show you gross, young lady. I’ve got a half a bean burrito in me itching to fumigate this villa. Now tell me who has been smoking!

this week i was a busy body. and all of it made me feel so thankful that i was raised by a woman who was not mentally ill or violent or crazy or mean.

i interviewed an amazing doctor who taught me about violent criminals whose psychosis was triggered by this or that. we talked about the Joker movie and how she would have treated him. we talked about Kanye and Britney and racism and DNA and the holocaust

and it was all the things i always wanted to do at the previous gigs but for some reason i was not trusted or the bosses felt weird or… whatever. it never happened and now it is and i feel so liberated and vindicated because these stories are being so well received and i wanna rent a hot air balloon that says Told Ya on it, and shower the globe with marshmallows.

why those? who knows. who cares. cuz it would be funny. and it wouldnt hurt anyone. just like me.

then i did a bunch of editing and researching for stuff coming down the pike.

then yesterday i went to Compton and Inglewood and ALSO did stuff ive been dying to do: talk to THE CENTER of LA about something of global importance: the impeachment of the POTUS.

and when you pitch ideas in the real world, so often they are shot down before you can get out of the room. “come on tony, what do you Think those people are gonna say?”

we dont know. we never know. did we think Reagan would trade arms for hostages? did we think Bush 1 would puke at a dinner? did we think Clinton would turn a giant deficit into a giant surplus? did we think the GOP would be totally cool with a US president being super chummy with the Russians? did we think a bunch of GOP senators would fly to Russia on the 4th of July and come back and lie about it?

if people are anything they’re unpredictable AF. which is why i love them. which is why i ask them the most basic questions and often i am rewarded with surprising answers.

just like i was treated to in Compton and Inglewood where a young black lady said she thinks Trump is bad but Pence would be worse, so no. And an old black man said he likes Trump for a variety of reasons but he cant get too into it because his gf would get pissed at him. which is REAL, grampa!

 

saw the joker and i nodded off a few times

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totally fell asleep during ad astra too.

heres why.

i have a dream job right now for me.

and im doing all i can because its like being on Supermarket Sweep

if you could keep everything, and you knew where everything was,

and everyone else is just running around putting 2 hams in there and some boxes of cereal.

PUT FIVE HAMS IN THERE FOOL!

i stayed awake for most of Joker but my body was all, oh we get to rest right now? good. zzzz.

and i’ll see it again because there were lots of it that i liked, the cinematography, the direction

the score. omg the fucking score. so good.

and sure Joaquin was great. he’s always great. crazy people make perfect musicians and actors.

artists probs too, who knows.

but if i had directed him in this i would have turned the dial down, like a lot.

a scary loud person is scary, but a scary quiet person

or better yet, one with dynamics,

now that can be terrifying.

let him snap a few times.

nirvana learned from the pixies who learned it from babies: LOUD quiet LOUD.

let your character be happy and free and Loud. then break him. quiet.

quieter still.

and then a LOUD breakthrough happens. and if it’s an anti hero like Joker

you can either make him loud loud loud like lots of people do

or you can make him manic and unpredictable.

the easiest pitch to fool a batter on is a changeup.

everything a professional hitter learns on his climb to the big leagues is how to hit the fastball,

so throw him 5 or six of them

and then plop that slowball at him and watch him land on his ass.

a quiet plotting, sinister laugh is better than a booming one

although to be honest his laughter was really great.

joaquin is a dream and we should feel lucky to have him,

which is why i’ll see this again.

when maybe im used to this gig a lil more.

do you know i love you? sure, but *do* you?

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i do.

it may not feel that way if you judge the number of times i write in the world famous, but trust me, that’s no way to measure any of this

ive been writing like a dog on Los Angeleno. did you know dogs can write? Woof!

because i dont think my mom has bookmarked where my new stuff is, i will link to it now

Famous Silver Lake Foot Sign Saved from Thieves by Los Feliz Store Owner

Happy Foot Doctor Reunites with Nearly-Stolen Sign

Despite AB 5, Uber Drivers Would Rather Quit Than Be Employees

What It Was Like to Work at Popeyes During the Chicken Sandwich Frenzy

Trojans Continue Unsafe Vaping Habits Despite Recent Warnings

is that all i’ve done? i’m so exhausted i feel like ive done more. oh well. i got another coming out tomorrow about living on Obama Blvd. ive been doing the social over there too. going to meetings. meeting the people. meeting the readers happens this week too. so much.

driving a lot. here, there, south central, the valley. my interior door handle broke. it’s just flaccid. i have to roll the window down, unlock the door, then open the door, then roll up the window, then turn off the car. then shut the door.

need to go to the shop, but when you drive a Benz you’re all, damn Klaus, how much is this gonna cost me? so i just go through the little window ballet. im not complaining.

actually i am, about the firing of Joe Maddon, the Cubs manager. the guy who won us the world series after 108 years.

im particularily mad because i see myself in him a little tiny bit. i too feel like i have been let go from gigs after accomplishing the miraculous and then as soon as it’s time to re-up they show you the door. Joe Maddon deserves a statue at Wrigley, not a kick in the pants. it tore me up yesterday when he was shown the door.

he shoulda said sorry i didnt win the world series for you year after year. sorry i only broke a hundred year drought. sorry i treated everyone with class and answered every question, and injected fun and playfulness and love to this craziness.

as drake says these hos aint loyal

and you know shits fucked when im quoting the champagne papi.

anyways, i wouldnt do you like that at zankou chicken.