Friday, December 28, 2007

Saturday, December 22, 2007

I've got my top 3 now...

Rivers Edge last night, Colin behind the bar, beard on the face, Galaga/Ms Pacman in the corner. Good stuff. I now have my top 3 arcade games that I will purchase once I have some scratch:
1. Ninja Turtles - Me, Ian & the old man beat this game at the KoP mall about 15 years ago, and it was glorious. It was probably the greatest memory of my Dad acting like a child, or most appropriate I guess. I don't remember if we had to be somewhere. I don't remember if we had anything else to do that day. Because we didn't leave that spot until the game was beaten. Random kids would come in and play a few levels, filling in the other 2 positions, but Ian and I held strong, and Father kept getting quarters until we fucked up Shredder and Krang at the end. We beat the game. I remember nothing else from that day, probably a psychological block, but I remember going to town on the Ninja Turles game. I want this game. #1.

2. The Simpsons game. Pretty much the Turtles with different graphics. But come on, its the Simpsons and it's awesome. The last time I saw this game was in Belmar, NJ back before I was dating a Jersey girl, Mike was dating a Jersey girl, and Simon was still around. Seeing Simon next week would be pretty top notch. But it was raining in Belmar (God, I wish I would have known that area of NJ would be my hell someday) so we ducked into an arcade, and sure enough they had the Simpsons game. Simon and I beat that shit that day. Another good day. Kel was dating Dan, but it was still a good day.
To quote Craig: If I had the Turtles and the Simpsons video games, I would be so happy right now.

3. Right, Galaga/Ms Pacman. Sure, it seems like such a staple of arcade games, and maybe it was the copious amounts of alcohol in our systems (definitely, maybe) but playing Galaga was fucking AMAZING last night. And then Michelle & Deric rocked some Ms Pacman and THAT was amazing. I want this machine in my home so it can be amazing everynight. It's the reverse food chain of video games. I like these more than Genesis. I like Genesis more than PS2. #4 on the list would be Bad Dudes, but I don't have the energy to write a paragraph on that.

Monday, November 12, 2007

1 week. 2 brothers. 3 continents.

Wednesday, we leave New York City, which is located in North America. I haven't left North America in 26 years.

Thursday morning, we wake up in Spain. That's Europe. For the next couple days we'll travel Spain, from Madrid to Sevilla to the vicinity of Gibraltar...

Sunday should find us in Morocco. That's Africa. Africa. Who would have thought a Hauze, let alone two Hauzes, would be in Africa this year. Awesome.

3 continents inside a week. Should be pretty wild. I bought a shitty $200 video camera to document it all.

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Robert Goulet 1933-2007

Very unexpected. He was awaiting a lung transplant for a last few weeks and I guess time ran out. Weird, I was just watching the Simpson's $pringfield episode the other day and his gag on the ep is fantastic.

At the aiport. Bart holds up a sign reading "Robert Goulet"
Robert Goulet: Are you from a casino?
Bart: I'm from a casino.
Robert Goulet: Good enough for me. Let's go.
At Bart's treehouse casino
Robert Goulet: Are you sure this is the casino? Mr. Burns' casino? I think I should call my manager...
Nelson: Your manager says for you to shut up!
Robert Goulet: Vera said that?

I hate when celebs pass away that aren't "supposed" to pass away. He'll be missed.


Monday, October 29, 2007

2 Brothers, 2 Continents

The idea was hatched. The talk was talked. And the plane tickets have just been purchased.

The Hauze Bros. are going abroad. In two weeks, we leave for Eurasia. Our trip will have us circling Spain and Morocco from Madrid to Sevilla to Tangier and back. Do we know what we're doing? Hell no. Any ideas on how to get around? None. Will it be an adventure? Most definitely.
Our trip will include but not be limited to these things:
Eating more spanish food than is recommended for one person
Snake Charmers
Camel Rides
Rocking the Kasbah
Flying Carpets
Trainrides across the Spanish countryside
Flamenco Dancers
Linen Suits

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

My Beige Whale

I haven't owned a car since the Whale Shark. Imagine this, only without AC, power windows, a working gas tank meter, and the uncertainty of death constantly reinforcing itself everytime you turn the key and put it in drive:

My love affair with the Whale Shark ended about 3 years ago. Now my new whore mistress is the BMW 330xi. In blue. Mmmm. Does anybody have 35K I can hold for a minute?

I also want you in dark blue.

Sunday, October 21, 2007

My White Whale

Everybody has a neverending quest. Something you've wanted your entire life, but just have never been able to make it happen, to connect, to quench that thirst of all thirsts. For some it's a girl. For some it's a dream job. For some it's rare piece of memorabilia, like an original pressing of a record or a priceless work of art. For's this:

I have been looking for a clean version of this theme song for years. Years. And it started small. I heard the song. I liked it. I wanted to hear it whenever I wanted. Not at 1130am on a Tuesday on TBS. And this was before the digital age was fully realized. I didn't have a Google search. I didn't have YouTube. I didn't have iTunes. And now I do. And I STILL can't find a good copy of this song.

I do, finally, have a shitty recording of this song. I found a windows media version on some TV Theme website where some guy records songs on a boombox to tape off his television. So I've got that. But it sucks. And there's a CBS themes CD out there somewhere with this song on it, I remember seeing it at a Tower Records (RIP) back in high school, but being the high schooler I was, I didn't have the $20 to impulsively drop on a CD like that. And now thru Amazon, iTunes, you name it, I can't find that CD. Stinks.

So the quest continues. I will find this song. I will have a clean version, on my iTunes, for me to dance around a black and white New York City to. It will be mine, oh yes, it will be mine.

Cosby Theme. It's called Monk's Hat. Written by Benny Golson. The Don Braden Octet does a version of it. To be continued...

Sunday, October 7, 2007

A Trip

Being the impulsive Hauzes we are, brother and I want to take a trip in the spirit of The Darjeeling Limited. After some beers and some brainstorming last night, and a Phillies loss to boot, I think we came to the combination of Spain and Morocco over the course of a week. Flight to Spain, boatride to Tangier? Does that make sense? Expedia doesn't think so, but I do.

We're looking to go somewhere that isn't obvious. No England. No Japan. Australia's a wee bit too far. Morocco just seems like a good destination...maybe in the spirit of Almost Famous, but then again, maybe in the spirit of the Bourne Ultimatum. I'm hoping it's in the spirit of buying some linen suits and just exploring for a week. No tours, no attractions. Local color. Sunlit taverns with a creaky fan providing miniman circulation. A feast for the eyes and the soul. You know...equal parts amazing and affordable. Easy, right?

I think the Spain/Portugal/Morocco area can offer that. And you know, maybe a flight that gives us a layover in Amsterdam, just for good measure.
Big Sur made me realize there's a lot I haven't seen. Being single made me realize there are a lot of people I still have to meet. Having no stamps in my passport makes me realize that I should get out there and see some of the world. The Hauze boys could use a good trip.
I wish the sister could come too, but she's already gone international, and she's got college to have fun with for now. There will be a Hauze kids trip in the future, no doubt, but for now the boys will test the waters. We already balked on our London trip early this year, so this one's got to go down, for the sake of sanity and good health. Well, not really that serious, but you know, it would be a damn good trip.

Friday, September 28, 2007

A Letter to All the Lonely Numbers

Dear all you marked single, swinger, cod, or skirt,

After about 3 solid months in the ones column (but really, if you break it down it's been a little longer), I finally came to this little revelation today, and I'd like to pass it along to anyone who wants to agree or disagree with it. This might be common knowledge that I'm just discovering, so please excuse my naivety, as I'm fairly new to this whole confidence game.

Many things happened over the last month and a half which have brought me to this idea of mine. Definitely the most prominent was/are the antics of a little fucking douchebag creep giving out single servings of "hickeys" to ex-girlfriends...but let's not dwell on that nonsense, because like my mugging a couple months ago, the happenings have ended up helping, not hurting.

Okay, okay, enough prologue, let's get to the point. The dance floor (by dance floor I mean singles scene, but dance floor sounds cooler) is a peculiar and sexy temptress. On one hand, you've got to suck up your belly, pride, and confidence all at once and initiate conversation with a person you don't even know. First impressions are a cold hard bitch, so the first step ain't the easiest by a long shot. But then once you do get past the inaugural "hello," it's time to start getting sized up. You start juggling, and this person you introduced yourself to is seeing just what kinds of objects you can keep in the air. "Okay, he can handle tennis balls, so let's try throwing a pirate sword into the mix." "Okay, he handled the pirate sword with some dry wit and then casual touched my shoulder, so let's throw a live porcupine in the air and see how he handles that." And that's the way the dance begins. Every. Single. Time.

So by now, either you've dropped a few items and ran off stage, or you've kept everything in the air and basically said "Listen, I'm obviously an amazing performer, so let's get casual, okay?" You buy them a drink. You get into it. And here's the next roadblock. My friend, who is not me but has the same mother as me and is not my sister, thinks a nice girl is going to be turned off by his personality, once he reveals the real brother deep down. And to that I say horse puckey! My main argument comes in here: if you think they're going to judge you for who you are, why don't you just fire right back and judge them for who they are not.
Example: I am now quite comfortable going out on a Saturday night wearing a t-shirt, jeans, my shit hot air force ones, and maybe a little scruff on my face. And when I'm out and I've knocked out the first two steps on the dance floor, I'm going to highlight the fact that I frequently enjoy comic books, I watch dangerously high doses of TV, have an intense obsession with food, or will kiss Deric on the face if it gets a laugh. And I don't care who laughs, as long as somebody does. And if she has a problem with anything you happen to mention about yourself, you're the not one with a problem. Why doesn't she like comic books? Because they're nerdy? Nope. Certain comics are awesome. I'm not at the comic store every Wednesday picking up the new X-Men or what-have-you, but I do enjoy an issue of Scud, the Goon, or the latest Doug TenNapel every now and again. Or how about TV? I'm a huge fan of the show Angel. Why? Because it's a great fucking show, end of explanation. What does she read? What does she watch? Is she funny, or just good looking? Because looks ain't looks without a sense of humor. And in my book, looks don't exist without a sense of humor.

So instead of "categories" of people -- "frat boys" "wallflowers" "geeks" "dweebs" "motorheads" "assholes" "dickheads" "sluts" "prudes" "waifs" "cockblockers" "annoying friends" -- let's start implementing "individualities." Yes, this is sort of "everybody is a unique snowflake," but not really. Because you will meet people who are similar. Who are unoriginal. Who are dull, boring, rude, smug, shitty. But how does that shittiness bounce off of you? Maybe you're a little shitty yourself. There is no ideal candidate for your ballot. It's politics, but right now, everybody should get 1% of the vote. If you even vote at all. Everyone's in the race, and your vote can go in any direction, because there's plenty of time until the polls open.

I've battled self-esteem issues pretty much nonstop since the 8th grade. (What's up 'injury to my happy place'?) Didn't get laid in high school. Always wore other people's nicer clothes when I went out during college. Spent 5 years with a girl who, at the end, told me she was no longer physically attracted to me, but wanted to stay together because she loved me (I'm sorry, was that more an insult or compliment. Maybe it was an implement. A knife to my brain, heart, and crotch at the same time.) So the whole confidence racket has been a tough one for me to break into. But I think I'm there, thanks in no small part to Deric's lucky red shoes, but also to the fact that I'm going to be me, and if you don't like me, you can fuck right off. The Hauzes are awesome. Some say we're cursed...but maybe it's our own fault for growing up with a black cat. Fucking Phoebe, always doing something to fuck us over. But seriously, there is no curse, and there is no raised bar that you have to meet. It's the dance floor and people are dancing.

You are you and you need to be you. "She won't like me because I'm an asshole." So go out and find an asshole who will give it right back to you. "I'm not attractive." No you're not, you're just not comfortable in your shoes. Get more comfortable shoes. "I've got no game." There is no game. I tried to get game once, and I was told I didn't have it. So instead, I started acting like myself. And surprise, it's working. "I'm too fucked up for someone to be able to handle me." Yeah, that's probably right. But they're fucked up too. Don't you realize that yet? Everybody is fucked up. There are wars fought everyday over what mythical ghost people think everyone should believe in. Shows like Arrested Development and Firefly get cancelled, while shows like According to Jim and Two and a Half Men are now in syndication, their creators now very rich. Family members are estranged. Soulmates don't end up together. Verizon is always going to find a way to fuck you out of money. Hickeys are annoying whether they are on your neck or inside your ex-girlfriend. Fallout Boy is going to continue to exist. Things are fucked up everywhere. What makes you think people aren't the same? People is where fuckups come from. It's a vicious cause & effect world. You want to lock yourself in your room for a month, but then how are you going to pay rent? Shit's tough, so man up.

Fuck the Secret. Fuck the Game. Fuck any rules about the dance floor you've been told. Confidence is you. And I'm not going to write a book about it. In fact, this blog's a little too long, and if you're still reading, then do this: put on the comfortable shoes and get the fuck out there. Because it's a great fucking time. And even if things don't go in the optimum direction, you'll still have food and TV waiting for you at the end of the day, and two out of three ain't bad.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Big Sur, later that day...

I've never really traveled. Never been out of the country. Don't really vacation. I've been to Key West three times, that's the big one so far. I've been to New Orleans. Detroit. LA. Maine. Let's see...Ohio. The great IL. Wisconsin.

All stink in comparison to Big Sur/Monterey, California. I'm here for work, and work means driving up and down Rt. 1 all day. It's amazing.
I'm not one to take pictures of myself. And I'm not one to be impressed by nature. But today both happened. Big Sur might just be the most breathtaking thing mine eyes have ever seen. I didn't really need another reason to move out to CA, but this sure didn't hurt.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Big Sur

After a blur of a weekend (but from what I remember it was a nice blur), I've made my way out west for the week, finding myself in Big Sur today. Figures this crazy week would be the same week as most of the new TV premieres. Still managed to catch Chuck for the 2nd time last night. But I missed HIMYM. Stinks. Bless iTunes, though.

Hopefully I'll be able to find the time later today or tomorrow to jot down something somewhat amusing. But for now, nod your head to Phantom Planet and pretend the OC never'll help you enjoy the song a little more.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Be. Here. Now. A Retrospective.

So, this entry comes as a response to the AV Club’s snobby, elitist, douchebag article that equated 1997 as the new 1967, listing a bunch of records I would never own, and apparently have no taste because of that fact. Hey, AV Club writers, we’ve already got a Pitchfork, get a new slant. Meanwhile, it got me thinking to that glorious year of 1997, and a record rich in taste. The taste of awesome…sprinkled with some cocaine.

Be Here Now came out in 1997, in so honor of its 10 year anniversary, I’m teaming up with the biggest Oasis fan this side of the pond, the one and only Michael P. Collins, for a little give and take, track by heavily-overdubbed track, of Oasis’ love letter to, um, something I’m sure, but who really can remember when you do all that coke. (Mike's responses are in italics)

D’you Know What I Mean? (7:44)-
Aces, just aces. Start with countless guitar overdubs (a running theme on this record), some backwards effects, maybe a little helicopter, some wah-wah, and just groove on it. We’re singing about Manchester, lads, so obviously we don’t need to get to the second verse until well into the third minute. Also, the tried and true Em-G-D-A (capo 2nd) is in effect here, as it was on previous hits.

I remember hearing this track for the first time on the radio and thinking “wow, that’s a long intro.” That is, until I heard the album version, which tacked on an additional 45 seconds of a car racing down the road—right into that long intro. What was that about? It’s easy to blame the cocaine for such excess (and rightly so). But think about this: three years before the band had no record deal. Fast forward that time and they’re the biggest band in the world, making one of the most anticipated records in years. So, if someone (Noel) announces, “eh ar’ let’s hav a fookin’ car on the album”, you nod yer head, and put yer money where yer mouth is.

But back to the track. Like Brett, I agree: this track is ace. I like how Noel sounds like he’s saying “fuck”. But it’s backwards so he isn’t. Who ever said Oasis wasn’t clever? Liam sounds pissed off on this one. Nice. I still think it’s a annoying that the chords ARE THE EXACT SAME used in “Wonderwall”. Also, Noel, lazy as he is, sticks two Beatles song titles in the lyrics—back to back. “The Fool on the Hill and I Feel Fine”. Genius? You decide.

My Big Mouth (5:02)-
When I bought this CD on the day it came out, I took it up to my room, slapped on a pair of headphones, and let the music do the talking. It worked for track 1. I’m not going to lie…about five seconds into this track, I skipped to track 3. I’m not the biggest My Big Mouth fan. I’ll let Michael weigh in on this one a little further.

I have to disagree. From day one (August 26, 1997-its on the album cover trainspotters!!) to the present, I have loved this song. Liam’s vocal is killer and the pre-chorus is the best Noel’s has ever written. I read somewhere that there are 33 rhythm guitar tracks on this track. Bonehead plays one of them. By the way, after the track ends, you’ve been listening to this record for 12:46 seconds. It’s a long ride.

Magic Pie (7:19)-
Now let’s remember its 1997, and I don’t know jack shit about music. Sure, I owned a bass (a beautiful one that I still rip it up on), and I could pluck a tune, but I was still learning my way around a song. So when I first heard Magic Pie…I was blown the fuck away. Sure, he’s singing about a magic pie, whatever the fuck that is, but the chord progression, the mood, the feedback, the Noel…it all worked. And it only took about five or six years to realize that this song is shit. Glorious, glorious shit. I love it.

Yeh, I never really liked this, notwithstanding the fact a friendship was started because of a discussion regarding this track (a firm handshake to Brett). The hit hat is too loud in the mix, which is saying a lot for Be Here Now. They put Stay Young here and they could have shifted another 500,000 copies and notched another half-star in a review or two.

Stand By Me (5:56)-
This was my favorite when I first heard the album. Liam snarls his ways through this one (I bet it was one take, I’d bet the farm) and Noel riffs his ways over everything. Verses, chorus, outro’s. EVERYTHING! In all seriousness, the string arrangement is class—an over looked fact. Oasis has always done strings tastefully.

Good tune. I don’t have any real emotional connection to this song, but if I remember correctly my brother loves it. This song, in title only, was also a huge hit for Ben E. King, but I’m sure Noel doesn’t give a shite.

I Hope, I Think, I Know (4:22)-
Not counting the All Around the World reprise, this is the shortest song on the record. I hadn’t listened to this one in a long time until now…and it still kicks ass.

This is the “Hey Now” of the record. Best line: “You’ll never forget my name”. Noel was too lazy (high) to write a second verse, so the first one is repeated twice—except the pronouns are different the second time around. Was that a game time decision. Me thinks, yes.

The Girl in the Dirty Shirt (5:47)-
This one falls in the Magic Pie category of me going absolutely apeshit when I first heard it. Who’s the girl in the dirty shirt? I dunno, but she inspired a cracking tune. That outro still gets me, with the slick keys in the background, and Noel’s high harmony (does he ever do a harmony that isn’t a high harmony?). Tops.

Agreed. Again, the pre-chorus is the best part. Noel was writing great pre-chorus’ then. For the record, the Girl in the Dirty Shirt was Noel’s first wife. Guess things weren’t going to well when the best thing he could say about his misses is that she wears a dirty shirt. They divorced in 2000. Love fades in and fades out doesn’t it………

Fade In-Out (6:52)-
…..what a segue way. This tune is awful and sounds like bad Bon Jovi (“Dead or Alive”). How long do we get to listen to the band hold on the D sus2 chord before Liam instructs to “get on the rollercoaster”? Too long. Next.

This one, like My Big Mouth, was a song I normally skipped over in 1997. Actually, 10 years later, I think I still skip over this one. But that’s Johnny Depp on the slide!

Don’t Go Away (4:48)-
Ballad. Single. Great. I used to think the lyric was “…cos I need more time, just to make these rhymes…” which I thought was bollocks. But it’s “…cos I need more time, just to make things right…” which makes a lot more sense. I was 16 and wet behind the ears.

Ah, that’s better. The best song on the album. Liam’s best vocal ever. And again, a class French horn arrangement. And I love how Noel removed his index finger off the last C chord. Listen for it in the left speaker. One more thing, there are sleigh bells on this track. Did anyone ever notice that?!

Be Here Now (5:13)-
Title track. “Your shit jokes remind me of Digsy’s.” Good whistle. I don’t really have much else to say about this one. Because…

“Flash your pan at the song that I’m singing. Touchdown bass, living on the run. Make no sweat of the hole that you’re digging”………

Cocaine is a hell of a drug.

All Around the World (9:20!!!!)-
Cingular is now the new AT&T. Thank god, because now this song is immortal, which is how I felt when I first heard it. This is another one of my brother’s favorites. I mean, the song’s almost 10 minutes long. And there’s a reprise at the end of the record. Oasis! Oasis! Oasis!

Way too long. But a great track. Great horn arrangement too. I have Cingular, too. Any self respecting Oasis fan would.

It’s Gettin’ Better (Man!) (6:59)-
This is a great song. A truly great lost Oasis classic, with some decent lyrics for once. And how about the middle bit?! As close to a jam as Oasis would ever get. I would love to know how many times Noel and Liam sing “we’re getting better man”, at the end. 35 times, maybe?!
This one I always lump together with the title track. I don’t know why they always remind me of one another, they just do. Did this song need to be 7 minutes? Short answer: yes.

All Around the World (Reprise) (2:08)-
No Beatles influence here. Come on, what a fitting end to the biggest record of 1997. For the record, the only two tracks to make me and Mike’s Oasis Supermix where D’You Know What I Mean and All Around the World, but listening to it now, I wish we would have put the reprise on there too, as the last track.

Oasis never leaves you wanting more, do they? At least not here. The tune ends with the shutting of a door. The closing of an era perhaps? Maybe. I’d like to think it was the man driving the car at the beginning of “D’ya know what I mean?.” He arrived home. Exhausted. Listening to Be Here Now will do that. I bet he was thinking “Where is the bass?”

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

It's okay, I'm a doctor

How is this thing not called "Doctor Wood Splitter?" You've gone out of your way to put the "DR" in front of your product name, why not spend the extra time to make that DR mean latin....

The doctor will see you now

You've got the infomercial that hooked me...why would you let me down like that? Oh right, probably because you're spending your time making infomercials.

And I'm spending my time editing video that are basically infomercials.

Fuck it, I've got a music video to plan. And a demo reel to edit.

San Francisco says hello, see you on Thursday New York. I never thought a place existed outside of New York that had more crazy people per square block. Then I came to SF. A woman tried to punch me yesterday. For no reason. Well, surely she had her own reasons, but none that would've made sense to me. Wait...would? Wood? Dr. Wood Splitter? I probably wood have needed him yesterday if that punch wood've landed.

Saturday, September 1, 2007

In Search of the Perfect Karaoke Song...

Last night found me in another karaoke bar, but this one topped the others. This one, in the vicinity of St. Marks, was a fine Japanese establishment that actually had private rooms, like the one in Lost in Translation. (Naturally, I've never been to Japan, so I can only make a pop culture reference, as usual.)

We didn't get a private room, because the main bar area got pretty crazy as the night wore on, and I spent the night, aside from getting pretty hammered off Sapporo and Sake (ah, Sake, its like getting drunk on boiled Rice Krispies), trying to figure out the perfect song to sing along to. Now, this is an ongoing struggle for me. Sure, you've got your easy crowd-pleasers: Elton John, U2, Oasis, even Billy Joel or some 80's throwback. But I'm constantly trying to up my game. Maybe some Kenny Loggins? Maybe some Elvis? Or even the Kenny Rogers classic "What Condition My Condition Was In."

The key to good karaoke is not to sing a song you personally love, or a song you think people will recognize, because it's not about that. It's about getting that vibe going in the room as you belt it out. People don't need to know the words, they're on the screen. People don't need to like the song, because you'll do that for them. You have to croon. You have to sing to the ladies. So you gotta pick a song that's going to do that. The main example is The Cable Guy:

I mean, Jefferson Airplane...just a classic choice. Judd Apatow once again, ladies and gentlemen.

So what did I do? I didn't toe the line, I just sang a sure hit. Oasis...Don't Look Back in Anger...again. I crooned. I sang to some ladies. And I found a pocket of folks in the corner who sang along every word with me. It wasn't my best performance (that would be the time a couple years ago when I sang Elton John's Your Song and had a girl asking to go home with me afterwards...nice), but it was still pretty solid. Sigh.

It's have so many Japanese cocktails and you grow impatient. The song selection books are huge, and how are you supposed to wade through all those thousands of songs to find the right one for the right moment for the right crowd? So I think I'll start carrying a "karaoke grocery list" with me, for just these cases. But that's going to be a process. But the next time I'm faced with a karaoke will be legendary.

And not like this poor bastard:

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

No, she'd like you too much...

Once again, a girl has managed to say something to me that just made me shake my head. Out last night with a friend of mine and his lovely gal pal, I naturally drank many beers very fast and, before she knew it, I was asking her to set me up with one of her lovely friends. Now, the friends weren't at the bar last night, just to clarify.

So she starts either thinking hard about it, or just humoring me, and starts going through her list of friends. One of them already has a boyfriend "in the works," and by "in the works" that can surely only mean that it was love at first sight and they're planning on eloping this weekend thereby making her off limits until the end of time (sarcasm duly noted, thanks). Another of her friends is too ditzy for me to be interested in. Really? Let me quote my friend Deric: "Well, she's no rocket scientist." "Well, I'm not looking for any kind of scientist." So I guess I won't be meeting the dumb friend, either. Hell, it could have worked. I could have faked interest in So You Think You Can Dance, right?

And then the last possibility from her friend pool ended like this: she'd be good for you, but I think she'd like you too much.


I'm sorry? Like me too much? Now granted, I'm not looking for a serious relationship. But you're telling me this girl would get to know me, have no choice but to fall in love with me, and I'd be the one in the unfortunate position having to let her down easy? What the fuck does "she'd like you too much" mean? Because it definitely doesn't mean what it thinks it means. I just going to start wearing a button that says "Hug me. I don't want a relationship with you, I just need the human contact from the opposite sex."

(gun shot to the face)

Fuck it, I've got a music video to plan.

Sunday, August 19, 2007


Watching the great Michael Mann's Heat. And so says Pacino:

"All I am is what I'm going after."

Yes, indeed.

Saturday, August 18, 2007

Hauze of Wax

Why do I continue to subject myself to the atrocity that is the 2005 version of the Elisha Cuthbert/Chad Michael Murray juggernaut House of Wax? I have seen this movie about 7 or 8 times. Like a moth with no artistic integrity to a flame of the lowest common denominator, I am drawn to this pile of shitberks each and every time it pops up on my dial. Right now, Jared Padalecki is being staying inside the creepy house too long, playing with rusty medical tools.

Maybe it's because I have this deep desire to make all of these shitty "horror" movies better. House of Wax is a great little concept: attractive teens stumble across redneck town where they're picked off one by one by two crazy brothers who turn some of them into wax statues. I mean, who cares about the premise in the big picture...all of these movies are about the same thing: fictionally bumping off archetypes of people who piss you off in real life. The respective settings for these bloodbaths are different ways to be clever. Right now, Jared Padalecki is being waxed alive.

I've always wanted to revamp an shitty version of a potentially okay movie. It began when saw I Still Know What You Did Last Summer. That was the first time I felt truly disrespected by a movie. Yeah, I was in high school, and going to random movies with your girl was just another step in the process of eventually getting to second base before 11pm. But I Still Know... set off this thing inside me that craved these shit horror movies. Maybe it was just knowing that I could do better. Right now, Jared Padalecki is off screen for the time being.

Then they made a movie based on House of the Dead. A horrible, horrible, horrible movie. This one I couldn't even sit through, even with the Erica Durance nudity. But this one stung for another reason. Back in high school, when I would frequent the Oaks movie theater, I'd always spy the House of the Dead 2 arcade game, beckoning me to play as one of the two brothers who dress is sharp gray suits to shoot up some zombies. So in my mind, I was going to write a sequel to the video game, as a movie. Two wise cracking brothers, dressed in expensive suits, who hunt zombies. Come on, that's a pretty good premise. But then Uwe Boll fucked it up, like he has so many movies before it. Right now, Jared Padalecki is having part of his face accidentally chopped off as he sits at a piano.

I've got a pretty good idea for the slasher movie I'm going to write. I've got a title, some characters, a setting, and a reason for someone to go crazy enough to slaughter all their close friends and family so people can spend $11 a ticket to watch it all go down while they crinkle their god damned bags of candy during the quiet parts of the movie. It's on the pile...after Stickboy, the cop show, and about a half dozen others. Right now, Jared Padalecki is dead.

Last week I saw Behind the Mask: the Rise of Leslie Vernon. Holy shit, what a great movie. It mixes serious horror and dark, dark comedy and gets everything right. Go out and rent/buy/Netflix this movie, and thank me later. But now, I'm going to finish watching House of Wax. Paris Hilton is about to be skewered in her underwear...only this time not in home video night vision.