You know what's killing me right now? As I sit on the train each morning, I read little snippets in the paper or see this and that on the train - things that make me giggle. And I think to myself, man that would be funny to write about. (I refuse to use blog as a verb...)
But by the time I make it to midtown, I can't remember that shit and I open a Word document each morning and stare at it for the 15 minutes before I have to start my morning. All I can think is, 'Goddamnit! I completely forgot what I wanted to talk about.'
More often than not, I'm sure whatever grand idea I had wasn't so grand. It was more something stupid that I though Diddy or Morty would find funny...though Diddy works 16 hours a day, drinks for 3 and sleeps 5 - so he doesn't have the time to read it. (But he damn well better make time for fantasy football this year...) And Morty doesn't even have a computer right now in his Oak-town tenement. (I'm still workin on it, kid...)
So here we go again, I thought something was interesting in my morning prep time, but I can't remember it now. You're stuck with this mindless drivel.
PS--Stay tuned for my thoughts on the RonRon trade and maybe some baseball commentary because one of my favorite players from my younger days just became a Yankee and if the Buccos get in on this Manny trade (J-Bay to Boston, Manny to Fla + Hermida to Pit). I'll holla...
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Home on the Range
I moved back to the ‘Burgh over the 4th of July week so that I could go on the road for work and pick up some extra cheddar to pay off my student loans. I am loathe for anything outside of NYC but my love/need of money out weighs my love of big city living and voodoo women named Phyllis. So I gave up the crib in Hoboken so that I could tackle cookie cutters in Kansas with people who talk funny – at least to me.
A funny thing happened on the way back to work though, I got shipped to…sunny Manhattan.
Believe me I’m not complaining, city rate for the summer is a beautiful thing. I’m just a little perturbed that I gave up the spot. So I’ve kinda been homeless for a few weeks now. I’ve technically been staying with Amor, but I’m not supposed to be there. I had my eye on an extended stay hotel in Elizabeth, NJ right near Jersey Gardens mall. I thought it was a pretty sweet deal, but two things came up. What about my car and getting to transportation in the morning? How much does $80 per night add upto over the course of 3 months? After considering the whole ‘kit and caboodle’ I saw that it was going to cost more than I’d like to pay at this point. I then checked out the extended stay in Jersey City, locate right off the path and had its own parking lot. Now crunch $100 per night over the course of three months.
So I opted to go the sublet route. I peeped out some places in JC, Bayonne and Hoboken. I had a great one lined up in Hoboken near the old spot but alas it wasn’t meant to be. Then a miracle came to me. There was an ad on craigslist for a place in Harrison/East Newark for $700 per month. I know what you’re thinking – something along the lines of the cribs episode of Redman. But you’re wrong. At least a little bit.
The roommate is cool. Black guy. Aspiring actor. Working late night at clubs in the city, tryna network. And he feels it’s worth mentioning that he’s gay. Just to get it out there. Make sure that I’m cool with it. Hell, it doesn’t bother me as long as he overstands that this guy is not. Thus far, I’ve spent a total of one night there over the course of a week. So I guess I’ll be checking back in with antics of living in East Newark and taking the path from there.
Also you gotta understand, it’s crazy different taking the Newark Train than the Hoboken train. It’s even different that the JSQ train. The Nwk train is like the melting pot. You have blacks from across Raymond Blvd. There’s the Spanish/Portugese/Hispanics from Down Neck. There’s the white people who drive into Newark from Suburban Hell. And they all ride the train all day long. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Newark Train that has more than one empty seat.
It’s funny too cuz JSQ doesn’t get many white people, so when I get on – I get the looks like maybe if we lynch him it’ll somehow make up for years of oppression. But the Nwk train is like being in the south in 70s. Everyone’s together and most people are cool with it. But the thing is a fucking powderkeg. If the wrong person were to step on the wrong person’s foot, it’d go bananas in there.
I already had my one instance. Evening rush hour (Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouf?!?!), train’s packed, I’m standing and it’s so tight that my crotch is way too close to this little old asian lady’s face and my arm pit is practically resting on this Indian woman’s head. Then this lady gets on at Exchange Place and decides she wants to not only talk to her girlfriend (standing on the other side of me) but she needs 3 feet from Petey Peckerwoods (aka – ME). So she wanna come through and just try and run her hip into my thigh (she was so short she could barely reach the grab bar) and get me to move. First thing’s fucking last, I may be a fat kid, but I’m still prolly the best box out man I know (mainly cuz IDK anyone in the NBA).
At first I was polite about letting her slide into the space and kinda leaned my hips away from her so she could squeeze. But then she wanna take that inch and push me a mile. So I waited til they were going to brake at Grove St (the stop after Exchange Place) and I threw my hips back in her direction. She kinda rolled into her girlfriend. So she still thought she owned the space so she started leaning on me. I gave no ground. Then the little asian lady was getting off at JSQ (next stop) and it was visible cuz she was gathering he things as we neared the station. I could tell Hipcheck McGhee wanted the seat. I wanted the seat, not so much cuz I needed to sit, but because HMG was a bitch and I wasn’t giving any ground (I have no white guilt. I’ve seen the system fuck white people too and I take every slight to heart…).
So I did a cool little pirouette where in I opened up space for the asian crotch facer and blocked out HMG. And boy was she pissed when I sat down. It was awesome. I whipped out my SuDoKu and pretended the whole thing never happened. I’d like to thank Dennis Rodman for this stunt because I love irritating mother fuckers. And watching D-Rod for those years with the Bulls was one of the most integral pieces to my youth.
Amor remarked when I got home that I’m a true gentleman. To which I responded, I open doors for you. Why I gotta be nice to them other bitches? I suppose I proved her point…
A funny thing happened on the way back to work though, I got shipped to…sunny Manhattan.
Believe me I’m not complaining, city rate for the summer is a beautiful thing. I’m just a little perturbed that I gave up the spot. So I’ve kinda been homeless for a few weeks now. I’ve technically been staying with Amor, but I’m not supposed to be there. I had my eye on an extended stay hotel in Elizabeth, NJ right near Jersey Gardens mall. I thought it was a pretty sweet deal, but two things came up. What about my car and getting to transportation in the morning? How much does $80 per night add upto over the course of 3 months? After considering the whole ‘kit and caboodle’ I saw that it was going to cost more than I’d like to pay at this point. I then checked out the extended stay in Jersey City, locate right off the path and had its own parking lot. Now crunch $100 per night over the course of three months.
So I opted to go the sublet route. I peeped out some places in JC, Bayonne and Hoboken. I had a great one lined up in Hoboken near the old spot but alas it wasn’t meant to be. Then a miracle came to me. There was an ad on craigslist for a place in Harrison/East Newark for $700 per month. I know what you’re thinking – something along the lines of the cribs episode of Redman. But you’re wrong. At least a little bit.
The roommate is cool. Black guy. Aspiring actor. Working late night at clubs in the city, tryna network. And he feels it’s worth mentioning that he’s gay. Just to get it out there. Make sure that I’m cool with it. Hell, it doesn’t bother me as long as he overstands that this guy is not. Thus far, I’ve spent a total of one night there over the course of a week. So I guess I’ll be checking back in with antics of living in East Newark and taking the path from there.
Also you gotta understand, it’s crazy different taking the Newark Train than the Hoboken train. It’s even different that the JSQ train. The Nwk train is like the melting pot. You have blacks from across Raymond Blvd. There’s the Spanish/Portugese/Hispanics from Down Neck. There’s the white people who drive into Newark from Suburban Hell. And they all ride the train all day long. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Newark Train that has more than one empty seat.
It’s funny too cuz JSQ doesn’t get many white people, so when I get on – I get the looks like maybe if we lynch him it’ll somehow make up for years of oppression. But the Nwk train is like being in the south in 70s. Everyone’s together and most people are cool with it. But the thing is a fucking powderkeg. If the wrong person were to step on the wrong person’s foot, it’d go bananas in there.
I already had my one instance. Evening rush hour (Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouf?!?!), train’s packed, I’m standing and it’s so tight that my crotch is way too close to this little old asian lady’s face and my arm pit is practically resting on this Indian woman’s head. Then this lady gets on at Exchange Place and decides she wants to not only talk to her girlfriend (standing on the other side of me) but she needs 3 feet from Petey Peckerwoods (aka – ME). So she wanna come through and just try and run her hip into my thigh (she was so short she could barely reach the grab bar) and get me to move. First thing’s fucking last, I may be a fat kid, but I’m still prolly the best box out man I know (mainly cuz IDK anyone in the NBA).
At first I was polite about letting her slide into the space and kinda leaned my hips away from her so she could squeeze. But then she wanna take that inch and push me a mile. So I waited til they were going to brake at Grove St (the stop after Exchange Place) and I threw my hips back in her direction. She kinda rolled into her girlfriend. So she still thought she owned the space so she started leaning on me. I gave no ground. Then the little asian lady was getting off at JSQ (next stop) and it was visible cuz she was gathering he things as we neared the station. I could tell Hipcheck McGhee wanted the seat. I wanted the seat, not so much cuz I needed to sit, but because HMG was a bitch and I wasn’t giving any ground (I have no white guilt. I’ve seen the system fuck white people too and I take every slight to heart…).
So I did a cool little pirouette where in I opened up space for the asian crotch facer and blocked out HMG. And boy was she pissed when I sat down. It was awesome. I whipped out my SuDoKu and pretended the whole thing never happened. I’d like to thank Dennis Rodman for this stunt because I love irritating mother fuckers. And watching D-Rod for those years with the Bulls was one of the most integral pieces to my youth.
Amor remarked when I got home that I’m a true gentleman. To which I responded, I open doors for you. Why I gotta be nice to them other bitches? I suppose I proved her point…
Saturday, July 26, 2008
I Believe in Yesterdays
I didn't mean to come off as Walt the whining Wanker yesterday, but I suppose I did. I guess I'm in a reflective period - kinda like Picasso and his pink period, but gayer. I did receive some great advice though yesterday after writing that. A man much wiser than I told me to stop looking in the mirror before I crash into the oncoming tree. Allusions to bad Brendan Fraser movies aside (sorry Amor...), it's very true.
I've noticed this as well in my history. As I stand in a moment in my life, I think about how much better it could be. I never enjoyed HS basketball because of it and I lost it through my stupidity. I could go on, but this was supposed to be uplifting. I think the first thing I enjoyed while I was doing it and recognized it was UCB.
I guess what I'm saying is that, I feel like I'm in a transitional phase already. Something lie ahead. There is this 'thing' out there that awaits me. A 'thing' that I don't want to talk about for fear of ruining. A 'thing' that I can't wait for. A 'thing' that I only hope I have the balls to chase when the time is right...
Okay the repetition 'thing' is getting annoying even to me.
PS - for any of you wondering, Barnes is okay. He informed me that he was taking a hiatus from the Show. But I assure he's okay and will be back and sarcastic as ever - maybe sooner rather than later if his beloved Jets sign Brett Favre.
I've noticed this as well in my history. As I stand in a moment in my life, I think about how much better it could be. I never enjoyed HS basketball because of it and I lost it through my stupidity. I could go on, but this was supposed to be uplifting. I think the first thing I enjoyed while I was doing it and recognized it was UCB.
I guess what I'm saying is that, I feel like I'm in a transitional phase already. Something lie ahead. There is this 'thing' out there that awaits me. A 'thing' that I don't want to talk about for fear of ruining. A 'thing' that I can't wait for. A 'thing' that I only hope I have the balls to chase when the time is right...
Okay the repetition 'thing' is getting annoying even to me.
PS - for any of you wondering, Barnes is okay. He informed me that he was taking a hiatus from the Show. But I assure he's okay and will be back and sarcastic as ever - maybe sooner rather than later if his beloved Jets sign Brett Favre.
Friday, July 25, 2008
The Kid That Didn't Go to Wentworth
I’ve begun to notice that life is a funny thing. Happiness is fleeting. Urges are tantamount. And sometimes the two never meet…I say this because as I sat broke and in college, all I could think about was the day I started working and could make ALL that money. I suppose though that when I thought about said money, I never thought about ALL that would go in to making it.
At the time I was in college and had taken out a loan that was more than any car I had growing up – matter of fact, it was worth more than pretty much all those cars combined. Someone somewhere along the line told me this was the way to go. To continue on this path would one day pay for the education that I was getting. And as I sat in those classes, the other admin personnel told us about how glamorous work can be. AND we can get ALL that money.
But as I sat in those classes – well at least the ones I actually went to – I found myself disinterested. And those jobs the nice ladies prattled on about didn’t seem all that glamorous. But I really did like the sound of ALL that money.
So I did continue on the path that I was told would lead me somewhere. (Though looking back it’s really a catch-22. I was studying something that was boring me, taking out hella high loans to do it and hoping I could get a job that could pay it off in a reasonable amount of time. I’m sorry – which came first, the rooster or the hen?) And said path has led me somewhere. But it’s nowhere near where I ever envisioned being. I’m sitting at a desk that’s really just one of those shitty plastic picnic tables from Home Depot. I’m listening to people who couldn’t ever pass any class I ever had – including the ones I passed with almost zero self-application.
That’s when it hits me. I’ve never applied myself. I coasted in high school cuz it was a joke. I fought any teacher who challenged me with things I didn’t like until they challenged me with things I did. This gave me a greater sense of self importance than I deserved. So I went for this crazy expensive degree cuz I have a head made of concrete and wanted to get on the first fastest moving object that would take me farthest from home. I got to working at this degree and didn’t like it. (Not all the hard work, but I don’t see the merit in hard work for something you don’t like – it’s like the total opposite of masturbation.) I finished by the grace of God in a shade under a decade and took the second job offer that came my way. (I justified it because I made an extra something-grand per year, as opposed to my first real offer.)
But of all that time ‘working’ in class rooms and libraries, I never stopped to look at the things I actually worked at. Once I changed over to fat, drunk and stupid (and ‘retired’ from basketball), the only things that made me happy were my creative endeavors. But that ish don’t pay well. And I don’t have a rich Uncle PennyBags to pay my loans – if I did, I’da asked him to pay tuition in the first damned place. So here I am, working a job that should be a career. A job that I love and loathe, it just depends what day you ask me. A job that I can no longer see myself doing 10 years from now. A job that pays me well enough that I feel guilty for hating it.
So I’ve come to this conclusion. I sold my soul. I sold my soul when I didn’t leave school back in the day, but instead took on more loans. I’m a complete whore. I lost all dignity and self respect. I live by other people’s rules. I gave in. And now that I’ve begun to fight it, I get in trouble for ‘having a bad attitude’. I’m the bad guy because I won’t take the same crap that the those assholes would when they started doing this. I’m the bad guy for having my own thought process. Oh well, at least every Wednesday when I wake up, my bank account shows ALL that money.
I am lucky though. I do have a chance to buy my soul back…plus 10% interest.
At the time I was in college and had taken out a loan that was more than any car I had growing up – matter of fact, it was worth more than pretty much all those cars combined. Someone somewhere along the line told me this was the way to go. To continue on this path would one day pay for the education that I was getting. And as I sat in those classes, the other admin personnel told us about how glamorous work can be. AND we can get ALL that money.
But as I sat in those classes – well at least the ones I actually went to – I found myself disinterested. And those jobs the nice ladies prattled on about didn’t seem all that glamorous. But I really did like the sound of ALL that money.
So I did continue on the path that I was told would lead me somewhere. (Though looking back it’s really a catch-22. I was studying something that was boring me, taking out hella high loans to do it and hoping I could get a job that could pay it off in a reasonable amount of time. I’m sorry – which came first, the rooster or the hen?) And said path has led me somewhere. But it’s nowhere near where I ever envisioned being. I’m sitting at a desk that’s really just one of those shitty plastic picnic tables from Home Depot. I’m listening to people who couldn’t ever pass any class I ever had – including the ones I passed with almost zero self-application.
That’s when it hits me. I’ve never applied myself. I coasted in high school cuz it was a joke. I fought any teacher who challenged me with things I didn’t like until they challenged me with things I did. This gave me a greater sense of self importance than I deserved. So I went for this crazy expensive degree cuz I have a head made of concrete and wanted to get on the first fastest moving object that would take me farthest from home. I got to working at this degree and didn’t like it. (Not all the hard work, but I don’t see the merit in hard work for something you don’t like – it’s like the total opposite of masturbation.) I finished by the grace of God in a shade under a decade and took the second job offer that came my way. (I justified it because I made an extra something-grand per year, as opposed to my first real offer.)
But of all that time ‘working’ in class rooms and libraries, I never stopped to look at the things I actually worked at. Once I changed over to fat, drunk and stupid (and ‘retired’ from basketball), the only things that made me happy were my creative endeavors. But that ish don’t pay well. And I don’t have a rich Uncle PennyBags to pay my loans – if I did, I’da asked him to pay tuition in the first damned place. So here I am, working a job that should be a career. A job that I love and loathe, it just depends what day you ask me. A job that I can no longer see myself doing 10 years from now. A job that pays me well enough that I feel guilty for hating it.
So I’ve come to this conclusion. I sold my soul. I sold my soul when I didn’t leave school back in the day, but instead took on more loans. I’m a complete whore. I lost all dignity and self respect. I live by other people’s rules. I gave in. And now that I’ve begun to fight it, I get in trouble for ‘having a bad attitude’. I’m the bad guy because I won’t take the same crap that the those assholes would when they started doing this. I’m the bad guy for having my own thought process. Oh well, at least every Wednesday when I wake up, my bank account shows ALL that money.
I am lucky though. I do have a chance to buy my soul back…plus 10% interest.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Long Time Coming
Well that didn't last too long now did it? I came out the gate gunning in March, I dapped 'em up in April, but May saw me fall off and I ain write shit since the Cs won the chip. I guess I wanted to write the week of the 4th, but I ended up with a fever of 102 for three days. (I know what you're thinking, 'WAAAAH - get over it jackass'. To which I respond, 'I feel great - fuck you very much for asking'.) Since I got back, I been working then coming home and sleeping. Exciting isn't it?
Work and sleep. And I still got a shitty cough. I declare shenaniganz on my current state of affairs. Though it may all change as I look to moving into a sublet for the rest of the summer through September, when I'm slated to finish this job. I hope I hope I hope that I can stay in the city for the next one. But I think I'm headed to Iowa to build a goddamn cookie cutter restaurant that unimaginative people like to eat at. I'ma miss city construction, but I think this scenario is what they call a 'character builder'. Well fuck them and their characters. Just cuz I are a character, doesn't mean I have character.
On the flip side, I started UCB again ayer (Show in September, Show in September...). I was none too happy with my day though. I wasn't feeling it. I'm out of practice. I mean, I'm still the funniest person I know (That includes you Morty Hedberg.), but I wasn't there. I was rusty. Fuck rust. I don't like being outta practice. And the worst part was, as soon as I made these choices, I could feel they were wrong. I suppose that's good cuz it won't continue to happen. But I didn't like knowing that I was tanking as it was happening.
All I can think about lately is filmmaking. I think Amor is getting annoyed with me. We bump into one of her old friends and they make small talk for five minutes. And when we walk away all I can say is, wow that visual would look great with me killing everyone at the table in the sequel. She just smiles and nods. (Please believe, she's not a bitch. She's more than justified. Everywhere we go I comment on the asthetics of killing a shitload of people there. I'm beginning to think I have a problem...)
But that's therapudic to me. I have my next two projects lined up. I'ma do a sequel to the thing we did in October. And since I was shot in the first, I'm not in the sequel. So I'll get behind the camera and do this one while lookng through the lens. (Timmy, it's your Uncle Marty - how do you feel about turning 5 again?) I just hope all the great actors I've been blessed to work with will continue to want to work with me after I go Psycho Joe on 'em. After that, I wanna do the thing that me and the Don started in like....'06 (???, maybe even before that.) It's about us back in the day and what we coulda done versus what we did. (I know it's vague, but I don't wanna give the thing away yo...) I'm pretty hype for it cuz I always loved the idea, but we could never find the medium for it. It started out as too much to do at the time, because we were too new at this. Now, we've lived and learned. We worked on the thing in October and there's the pending sequel. Those are both short 15 page joints. I'm thinking I can get an hour out of this with no fat. Just tell the story, in and out - no subplots.
After we didn't get the original shoot off the ground, we wanted to do it as a serial which was great. Since it takes place at a college, we could advance it into the future and show the freshman grow up. But it was coming dangerously close to something else I wanna do after A Week Ago. So I think doing it as a long-short (approx 60 mins) will cover this shit. I feel confident I can get the story right and tell the story we originally set out to tell. But I can intro enough of the young'ns to make a sequel viable. (What is it with me and sequels? I guess I just see everything so 'big picture' that I can't ignore some of the more dynamic characters JUST outside the focus of the protagonists.)
But yea, that's what I'm sippin on for now. Work is gonna be kickin my ass, I'ma be sleeping in someone else's bed, I'ma be doin UCB (Sept 21st, UCB Theater at 1:30.), I'ma stay thinking about filmmaking. I got a short to do before October, then a long short next spring, I'm sure there'll be at least one more project before A Week Ago starts in '10. All the while, Amor will be smile and nodding at my ridiculousness....loooooooooooove yoooooooooou.
Work and sleep. And I still got a shitty cough. I declare shenaniganz on my current state of affairs. Though it may all change as I look to moving into a sublet for the rest of the summer through September, when I'm slated to finish this job. I hope I hope I hope that I can stay in the city for the next one. But I think I'm headed to Iowa to build a goddamn cookie cutter restaurant that unimaginative people like to eat at. I'ma miss city construction, but I think this scenario is what they call a 'character builder'. Well fuck them and their characters. Just cuz I are a character, doesn't mean I have character.
On the flip side, I started UCB again ayer (Show in September, Show in September...). I was none too happy with my day though. I wasn't feeling it. I'm out of practice. I mean, I'm still the funniest person I know (That includes you Morty Hedberg.), but I wasn't there. I was rusty. Fuck rust. I don't like being outta practice. And the worst part was, as soon as I made these choices, I could feel they were wrong. I suppose that's good cuz it won't continue to happen. But I didn't like knowing that I was tanking as it was happening.
All I can think about lately is filmmaking. I think Amor is getting annoyed with me. We bump into one of her old friends and they make small talk for five minutes. And when we walk away all I can say is, wow that visual would look great with me killing everyone at the table in the sequel. She just smiles and nods. (Please believe, she's not a bitch. She's more than justified. Everywhere we go I comment on the asthetics of killing a shitload of people there. I'm beginning to think I have a problem...)
But that's therapudic to me. I have my next two projects lined up. I'ma do a sequel to the thing we did in October. And since I was shot in the first, I'm not in the sequel. So I'll get behind the camera and do this one while lookng through the lens. (Timmy, it's your Uncle Marty - how do you feel about turning 5 again?) I just hope all the great actors I've been blessed to work with will continue to want to work with me after I go Psycho Joe on 'em. After that, I wanna do the thing that me and the Don started in like....'06 (???, maybe even before that.) It's about us back in the day and what we coulda done versus what we did. (I know it's vague, but I don't wanna give the thing away yo...) I'm pretty hype for it cuz I always loved the idea, but we could never find the medium for it. It started out as too much to do at the time, because we were too new at this. Now, we've lived and learned. We worked on the thing in October and there's the pending sequel. Those are both short 15 page joints. I'm thinking I can get an hour out of this with no fat. Just tell the story, in and out - no subplots.
After we didn't get the original shoot off the ground, we wanted to do it as a serial which was great. Since it takes place at a college, we could advance it into the future and show the freshman grow up. But it was coming dangerously close to something else I wanna do after A Week Ago. So I think doing it as a long-short (approx 60 mins) will cover this shit. I feel confident I can get the story right and tell the story we originally set out to tell. But I can intro enough of the young'ns to make a sequel viable. (What is it with me and sequels? I guess I just see everything so 'big picture' that I can't ignore some of the more dynamic characters JUST outside the focus of the protagonists.)
But yea, that's what I'm sippin on for now. Work is gonna be kickin my ass, I'ma be sleeping in someone else's bed, I'ma be doin UCB (Sept 21st, UCB Theater at 1:30.), I'ma stay thinking about filmmaking. I got a short to do before October, then a long short next spring, I'm sure there'll be at least one more project before A Week Ago starts in '10. All the while, Amor will be smile and nodding at my ridiculousness....loooooooooooove yoooooooooou.
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