Not since Paula Cole’s late 90s hit has the world pondered the disappearance of such a critical group. (If it doesn’t show up above: http://youtube.com/watch?v=445m_ohiWCM)
Archive for June, 2008
Beat the Heat!
Man, it’s hot out. How hot? So hot I want to spell “hot” H-O-T-T with two T’s. Hot. Here are some fun ways to stay un-hot when the weather is hot:
“I do Nick Nolte impressions to stay cool! And I do — both temperature-wise and hipness-wise.” – Shane
“I read my glasses and carry a book! I also hide my pit stains under a black cloak.” – Lawyer Joke Punchline
”When it is warm-warm, I like to take bags of money and stray gold pieces for walks.” – Business Woman with a Nice Hairdo and a Jacket Dress
“We take tours of charity museums! A/C graciously donated by generous millionaires!” – Interracial Family
“I look at pictures of houses like a stupid idiot.” – Woman
”I keep cool by painting horses!” – Handicapable Minority Child
N-TV Poll 2
If you’re in LA (as we are) and you eat meat (as we do), then you surely have been (or should go) to Father’s Office (with locations on Montana in Santa Monica and at the Helm’s Bakery in Culver City). Whenever I go, which is about once every few months (because I only eat red meat once every two weeks), I never know what to tip. Please do some research to see why I am troubled and why I feel it unecessary to tip as if it were a normal sit down restaurant, and then post a reply. At the very least you’ll get a delicious burger out of it (and maybe a beer).
Quotient Quotables – Sex and the City
“Carrie!” – Kim Cattrall as Samantha Jones, Sex and the City Episode 204
“Miranda.” – Kristen Davis as Charlotte York, Sex and the City Episode 110
“Samantha?” – Sarah Jessica Parker as Carrie Bradshow, Sex and the City Episode 308
“Charlotte;” – Cynthia Nixon as Miranda Hobbes, Sex and the City Episode 302
“We all thought it was so funny when we realized that the ladies all had headshots taken by Marc DeLongpre. But, as an industry insider, I can attest that he truly is the best.” – Chris Noth
Shane’s Brane – Licorice War
“I’m not sure why some people prefer Red Vines to Twizzlers,” mulled Shane, “when Twizzlers simply taste better.”
“It’s about making the mouth happy. Capisce?” he finished.
R.I.P. ‘94 Honda Accord LX
In the immediate aftermath of the accident, little was going through my head except to get out of my crumpled car and check on the other driver. Somehow remaining calm (I guess my ER training is beginning to pay off), I blindly groped for my phone on the floor through the haze of smoke and airbag powder. I also thought to grab my wallet, and like every other brainwashed intern, my pager. I stepped out of the car and was swarmed by people asking if I was ok. The driver of the other vehicle, who had mistakenly jutted out in front of my car, was uninjured as well. The police arrived shortly thereafter, and the tow truck mere minutes behind them. It was then that I saw what had happened to my car.
“Oh my God,” I said. “Will it be ok?” I asked the police officer filing the report.
“Ma’am, you better sit down.” He lightly rested a hand on my shoulder and I sat. He shot a glance at the tow truck man, who looked down and slowly shook his head. “I’m afraid your car has been totaled.”
Unclear thoughts swarmed through my head. Surely, he couldn’t mean that my car was past the point of no return. Maybe he meant ‘totaled,’ like ‘totally hard to fix but not impossible?’
He must have seen the optimism in my face because his eyes filled with pity. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m afraid there’s no hope.”
While the other driver was arguing with the tow truck cowboy about the costs being incurred, I looked back to my car. The front end was jammed in, the windshield cracked, airbags crumpled on the front seats. The bumper had flown several feet to the right. I could still see the place I had once scraped it against the carport and tried to cover it up with a different color paint. I understood then what they meant by “totaled.” My car had suffered a traumatic death.
Our precious moments together flashed before my eyes…
Teaching my friends how to manually lock the doors, and constantly having to do it for them no matter how much I reminded them. As if they couldn’t remember a time before power locks and windows.
How I had to press the CD stereo face in at the same time I was changing radio stations. I got so good at it, the naked eye could hardly detect it.
When it died on new year’s eve in Phoenix and I missed the countdown.
Raising my voice to carry on a normal conversation over the obnoxious noise my engine would sporadically make, while all my friends would say, “What the hell was that?”
And how could I forget the first time the AC went out in the midst of an Arizona summer?
“At least it was old” said a gruff voice to the left. It was the other driver, the man responsible for the premature death of my car. He didn’t understand our history, our good times together. My car was leaking clear fluid from the silent engine, and I felt like crying, too.
The next day, things were wrapping up. The culprit had received several tickets (the tow truck guy triumphantly said one was for “being a jerk and giving the cops a hard time”) and my claim to his insurance company had been approved lightning-fast. All that was left was to say my final goodbyes. I was ready for closure.
I found it in the back of the dismal tow lot, crammed between a forlorn-looking chevy and a pontiac with no front window. Even in its wrecked state, my honda looked too proud to be there. I was told it would soon be moved to a salvage lot, where greasy men would pick it apart like vultures and reduce it to rubble. But then I had a comforting thought. Perhaps some young and eager teenager with fifty dollars in his pocket and a dream would one day discover it and use the parts to fix up his first car. It gave me a little solace thinking my honda would somehow live on through another.
As I walked away, I whispered, “I will never forget you. Never forget!”
Then I went and had some ice cream.
Quotient Quotables – 27 Dresses
“What was the theme: humiliation?!” – James Marsden, 27 Dresses
“You think I’m sexy?!” – James Marsden, 27 Dresses
“27 Dresses?!” – Cast, 27 Dresses
27 Dresses is now available on DVD and on all westbound domestic Continental flights.
Rolling on the River
Despite Mr. Fogerty’s pleasantly melodious lyrics, there are very few rivers one can actually roll on. The Los Angeles River is one of them. See, e.g., Terminator II: Judgment Day. No one rolled on June 1, 2008, however. We kayaked. What follows is most of what I remember.
- Leave Lincoln Heights 5:45 a.m. Birds abound. We even spot a few carp happily frolicking.
- Spot many ambitious graffiti projects between the 1st street bridge and the 7th street bridge including a couple of tags by the now notorious Buket. (Snooty intellectuals who prefer to read rather than watch can click here.)
- 7:00 a.m. Finish fifth of Wild Turkey 101 and smash the bottle against an overpass.
- Pass a bum somewhere in South Central (now technically South Los Angeles) who tells us “the dirtiest part is just ahead.”
- 9:00 a.m. Finish all beer and the bit of gin which magically appeared (seriously, it was magic) . No alcohol left for remainder of journey.
- 9:15 a.m. Dave, an esteemed OBGYN at a hospital I won’t disclose, begins behaving like a three year old. Rick and I realize (too late) where the lion’s share of the Wild Turkey went.
- See dead carp near the City of Vernon and think maybe bum was right.
- Dave tries to tip my kayak. Dave ends up falling in the water. Rick and I point out that swimming in the city’s sewer is probably not healthy. Dave becomes enraged.
- See a dead pigeon shortly after spotting the dead carp. Try [hopelessly] to keep any water from dripping on our hands and body. Fail miserably… especially since Dave insists on splashing us with his oar.
- Dave throws up. Twice. Dave then thinks he sees an ibis. Rick tells Dave it’s a heron. Dave threatens to tip Rick’s boat and then Rick concedes that, despite the fact ibises are usually only found in Florida, the bird in question “could be an ibis.”
- See lots of freeways and signs… one of which says “Compton”. We wonder for a while if we are in Compton.
- 12:00 noon. Realize my legs hurt and have turned a bright shade of red. I know it’s too late for sunscreen, but apply some anyway.
- 1:00 p.m. Ask a bicyclist riding near the river whether we’re in Long Beach or not. He “thinks so.”
- Spot homeless lady sunbathing naked. Stare and then immediately regret staring once we realize she’s old and homeless.
- Plunge over a 4ft waterfall and find ourselves wet and in tidal water.
- 2:30 p.m. After miles of paddling upwind (without the help of the river’s nurturing current), we round a bend and navigate into Long Beach Harbor. I stand up on the dock and feel like I’m going to collapse. I blame my recent robust physical activity. Rick thinks it’s because my breakfast and lunch were from a bottle. Dave complains sorely of being “fucking hungover.”
- 3:00 p.m. We eat the first solid food of the day. People in the restaurant look at us. Rick thinks he overhears someone saying that we smell. I suggest that maybe Dave is the one that smells since he spent the most time in the water. We all laugh (except Dave). Another adventure in the book
Butler position available, again
Albert Schulz
Butler Quarters
2700 Pacific Coast Highway
Signal Hill, CA 90805
Our dear Albie,
I regret to inform you that we will no longer be requiring your services as butler to our estate located at 2700 Pacific Coast Highway, Signal Hill, CA. Please remove your personal effects from the butler’s quarters immediately. All items left remaining in the quarters by 6 PM this evening will be sold, with the proceeds applied to your outstanding rent. Please provide a forwarding address to bill any remaining deficiency.
Should you seek the position of butler at another house, we would be pleased to serve as a personal reference. However, we would be obligated to mention the small kitchen fire, the DUI and the unfortunate episode involving you, our dog groomer, and the Center for Disease Control. We likely will not mention the disappearance of the six bottles of scotch from the pantry, as there remains a possibility, though slight, that these items spontaneously combusted as you insist.
What a sad day for the manor! Your days here, however short, filled the halls with laughter and song, however slurred and incomprehensible. For that you will truly be missed.
Best,
