Bad Movie Review #1

I've been trying to edit the sweatshop short, but my computer keeps overheating (it's old okay!) so it's been slow going.

It's sort of an unspoken rule in the film industry that when a co-worker invites you out to a social engadgement, you damn well go. Most of the time, you're more than happy to. Today is one of the only times--if not the only one--I wish I had a good excuse not to go. You see, the editor invited me to go see a Tomb Raider 'fan film' with him. Normally going to such an event would be a great way to heckle 40 minutes of dorkiness, but when you're going with your boss--eh, not so much. A boyfriend of one of eddie's friends directed it. I went online and watched the trailer and it might be a painful experience. On the other hand, what the heck? Might be fun...

I have my first bad movie review to give you guys. I'm thinking of starting a website, maybe called, BACTION: A site devoted to Bad Action movies, or something to that effect. What do you think? There are a lot of B-movie and bad horror sites, but I don't think the little niche of B-Action Movies has been taken.


ZERO TOLERANCE (1995)

This obviously will not be as complete of a review as it would be on BACTION but bear with me. Starring a post-T2 Robert Patrick, Zero Tolerance was a direct to video action film directed by PM Entertainment. I only mention this because the review I read that made me check out this film was from a guy who is a huge fan of the PM DTV features. So, I thought I'd check one of them out. [He promised most PM movies to be light on plot, heavy on explosions with some over-the-top acting and bad dialogue.] It did not dissapoint.

FBI agent Jeff Douglas (Patrick) heads to mexico on Christmas Eve to export a suspected co-head of a drug cartel named Manta, back to the US. On the ride back, the single FBI car (a 1989 Lincoln) is attacked by a truck and some bikes. Douglas fends for his life which includes blowing up bikes with a shotgun, everything catches on fire, but Manta escapes and the two other FBI agents are dead. A secret meeting reviels that Manta is indeed a member of the White Hand, a herion dealing outfit but he has slipped up and needs to get "the goods" to Vegas in 24 or else. Cut to Douglas at his hotel talking with his wife on the phone. Assailents break into to both places simultaniously and Manta forces Robert Patrick to escort him and his briefcase to Vegas or he'll kill his family. Douglas agrees, gets to vegas, avoids dying again only to find out his wife and two kids were killed anyways--on Christmas Eve to boot! Not only that The White Hand is plaging america with a new kind of drug--liquid herion. This drives him over the edge and after contemplating killing himself, Douglas decides to become a rouge vigilante and asassinates the drug cartel heads one by one. And that my friends is: Zero Tolerance.... no tolerence for... family slaughter? I don't really get the title but that's besides the point.

Stuff to look for:

- Douglas's FBI boss is comic gold for his lack of passion when finding out his agents were killed.

-Breaking a plate over the wife's head is a bit much when she's already unconscious

-If Robert Patrick shoots a shotgun, chances are something's going to explode

-A Fabio look-a-like named Kowalski. Did I mention he's a drug cartel leader?

-The warm-fuzz flashbacks. Not only are they too perfect, they are placed at the most perfect time. For laughter.

-I bet you can't just blow up wherehouses in New Orleans anymore....

-Did the bad guy really just carry the kidnapped girl across a jungle-gym bridge?!?!?

-Oh good, a kick ass ending! Let rockout durring the credits... wait... this song couldn't be more gay

I'm going to have to come up with some sort of meter for violence, sex and fun. For the record, Decent amount of Violence and explosions, no nudity but plenty of entertainment.

Bad Movies vs Good Ones

Monday Afternoon already? I guess so. I've been busy this morning, it kind of snuck up on me. I'm going to be eating leftover vegan food from Jon's film shoot all week. There's some barley-peas concoction which I kind of like that I just had for lunch. There's an ungodly amount of pasta salad, which isn't too good, that I'm not sure what to do with. I could seriously be eating the two dishes for a month, but I'm going to give a go for a week, maybe a two before I move back to cooking stuff with the steamer.

So I finished the Hitchcock Box set and have started the Fox Noir films. Here's my breakdown of the set:

Really Good films
-Dial M For Murder
-Strangers on a Train
-Suspicion

Pretty good (you have to be a little forgiving)
-North By Northwest-Stage Fright
-Foreign Corrispondent

Not great--for Histortical Purposes Only:
I, Confess
Wrong Man
Mr. & Mrs. Smith

That's actually how I would rate them top to bottom. Out of the two Cary Grant films I liked Suspicion over North by Northwest so that's why NXNW isn't is the top tier. Suspicion is great, except for the copout ending which ruins the film, but I pretend it's not there and ends the way hitchcock truely intended it. I, Confess was not a terrible film like the two below it, but if you watch it, you get frustrated at stupidity from the main character. I really liked the actor who plays the priest in that film. I though he did well, but he didn't have enough to work with.

I watch the first Fox Noir Film from the set, Laura (1944), which was really awesome, but I don't know if I'm going to plow through these because I want to edit the sweatshop short.

Since the glorious sleepover at Goobs, I am on a quest to find more gems in the vein of Troll 2. I've since rewatched Sleepaway camp 2&3. I ordered a ton of bad movies on DVD and VHS the past week.I mean, a lot--too many. When I get bored at work (read:all the time) I sift through reviews and B-movie websites and if something hooks me, I order it. Some action, some monster/alien movies, some Swords and Sorcery. A lot of them are out of print, particularly this movie I've been wanting to see for a while now, called Uninvited. Recieving high praise from badmovies.org, Uninvited is the story of a cat, who has a tiny parasitic cat living inside of it. I called around to all the speciality video stores around LA with no luck so I forked over the massive amount of $15 for a vhs from someone on the internet. I sucks because I saw a bootleg DVD copy of it on ebay six months ago when I was first looking for a copy. You can look forward to reviews of Karate Cop and The Brain among others when I recieve and watch them.

Not much going on this week. I'm going to go to the gym everyday this week, except today, when i couldn't get up for the life of me, but I'm sure it will happen :)

I don't get the flaming lips. I've been trying to listen to the new album and it starts out super-catchy then goes all weird and then soft rocking and in truth, I only like the catchy pop stuff. It sounds like they have a couple token 'could-be-soft-rock-radio-hits' but it honestly sounds like the singer is sleeping through those songs. What's his name? Wayne or somehting? His voice is so uninterested for those songs. Anyways, this is the only flaming lips I've ever heard so I'm not a good critic. Fans, don't be disapointed. I was partcially bragging while I still have the time that I got an advanced copy from a certain someone for a b-day present along with the new built to spill. Both are WB records and I think are the 2 albums they are banking on to rock the college curcuit this summer. I'm sure they will both be sucessful.

I started cutting the sweat shop short. So, that's comming along.

I got a call really early from Jon Frecette this morning. He's shooting a short at the smell this weekend and it involves lots of bands and stuff and I told him I'd be available to help out on it. He was like 'you're still coming right?' and I said of course and then he said that as a precautionary measure I need to bring my guitar and equipment because if one of the bands bails he's going to put me on stage as a replacement. I said, oh okay, sure but was thinking--I haven't really picked up my guitar in a long, long time. So I'm a little scared that I will have to get on stage in front of a ton of people. Hopefully everything will run smooth because Jon has his stuff together and knows how to make a good film. I'll do what I need to do, but I'll probably at least tune the guitar tonight. Good luck on the film man.

That's all for today. I'm going to get a green tea.

I'm walking on Sunshine. Whoa. Oh.

My mind this morning:

[Mexican radio]
-Ugh... The alarm
-hey, I'm not to tired actually
-you did go to bed early for this very reason
-yup
-but you love sleep
-you're right, I do love sleep
-but you're supposed to work out
-but I love sleep
-can't argue that
[Alarm reset for an hour and a half later]
-that right, I deserve sleep.
-Mmmm sleep
-you're probably not getting up early tomorrow because of kareokee
-maybe I should--
-but sleeeeeeeeeepppppppp
-can't argue that
-i will regret this
-hey, maybe you should quit the gym
-you know that's the sleep talking
-i didn't work out much last week
-hell, I haven't paid the gym since I switched atm cards
-sooooooo quit
-working out sets the stage for a great day
-sleeeeeeeeep
-shut up
-sleeeeeeeeep
-uhh, i'm pretty awake with all this commotion going on
-get up
-ugh....
-do I have to?

Since when did it become such a task to get up early and go workout? I used to love to go running and now I... I just don't care. Answer: an i-pod. Anyone with me here? It's the quick solution. Running to music is so much better than not. I wouldn't know because I've been without the entire time, but I suspect listening to an i-pod would motivate me--Speaking of money I don't have, I got an eye exam yesterday, then I was about to buy glasses, I found out the whole ordeal would cost about $400. Damn. That's a lot of hard earned money going towards something--granted it's a nessicity--what did I do? I said this tape around my glasses is OKAY for the time being while I think about things. So, here I am. I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet. Now that I think about it, maybe my lack of enthusiasm about working out some how corrilates with my diminished amout of green tea I drink. I used to have about two cups a morning at work. Now, not so much. I might have two cups a week. Why the drop off? Again, I donno. It's got to the reason I can't get up. That or the non i-pod in my life.

Somebody moved into the office in the corner. It's akward now. Before DOA had the entire back of the building to ourselves--minus one empty office, now that office is filled with a presence that makes you always think twice. You know? We can't be ourselves and all about goodtimes because we have to think about the 'guest' in the corner type of thing. Sometimes you don't realize a good thing until it's gone.

Speaking of which, (I cleaverly foresaw this transistion), I dropped a line to the alphadog crew and... we have a new movie in future. It will be everything I imagined and was promised: a promotion, a union gig which means giant pay increase and health insurance. All that jazz. It's sort of hush-hush, mainly because I don't want to jinx it, but if indeed things go as they should, it would be a big jump in my career and life. A goal fulfilled. It's probably not going to be until june/july--which is fine. Sadly, it's not with the director I know and love and mentioned previously. That's all I can say.

Writing meet is happening tonight. I swear. Briana wanted to do lunch instead and I'm thinking "how I'm I supposed to write at lunch?" I'm still thinking that. We work on different planes. Not like airplanes, but planes--you know--of exsistance. But in this case, writing. We are on totally different planes of writing. I use writing meetings to write. She wants to discuss our writing, but she hasn't caught on that in our years of doing this I haven't written a damn thing. I kind of want to see how long this farce will last.

Also, I might--might--start editing this short at work today. Maybe tomorrow though. We'll see.

The Science of a 3 Day Holdiay

The past weekend was amazing. It was everything and anything you could possibly want from a 3 day holiday. I'm feel productive and refreshed.

Friday night I walked up to the Egyptian and saw a 'doomed lovers' double feature of old B&W movies which included this movie called Letter from an Unknown Woman (1948). It's a truely great movie that makes you want to shoot your brains out. I don't know why this film isn't considered an essential classic. [I could probably tell you: it was a french director doing a hollywood film that delt with taboo subjects on top of a romance.] But it's not even on video for peet's sake! Ah... love... It's dead.

Saturday I digitized footage from the sweatshop short. Everything went surprizingly smooth until after I got through all the footage I realized that I had just played the footage... without the recording part.... But all and all it was fine. It was nice to see Emily and Richard and eat pizza with them.

Slumber party Sunday!!!! Yey. Sooo fun--I feel at this point I should mention the impending doom I'm facing. I was talking with Bethany on the phone and she mentined she was on the way to pick somebody up at the airport. OH FUCK!!!!!! I forgot to schedule a pickup for Peter who was flying in from Hong Kong. I looked at the clock and it was 5pm and I said "alright we still have time his flight doesn't come in until 7 on saturday." And Bethany was like.. 'it's sunday'. So I freaked out--totally killing any sumber party excitement. I took a couple deep breaths and was shocked I hadn't recieved a call or anything about it. So I call Peter and it goes straight to his voicemail and so... I still haven't heard anything. I don't know what the heck is going on other that I know I screwed up big time and I'm cursing myself because it's something so simple I had a brain lapse on. So if worse comes to worse, I'll be having to advertise on this space because I got fired. I don't know why anyone hasn't said anything like, 'did peter arrive okay' or anything like which I wouldn't have an answer because the hell if I know what's going on with him. Thinking about it all over again has killed my wonderful mood.

Mike and Goobs slumper party really did rock my world. We watched Troll 2--one of my new favorites now. See this film. It is a great bad movie. It's on the plateu with all the amazing greats. We also (shhhhhh, don't tell) saw Michel Gondry's new movie The Science of Sleep which played at sundance. It was a mind-fuck, but you know, in a good way. The sleepover pretty much solidified the weekend awesomeness. I'm dying to curate the next one, I think I could come up with a pretty entertaining lineup of films.

Whhhoooo. That's my sigh of relief. Peter's here and the whole airport debactle is 'a nonfactor'. Whew. [I'm blasting Baba O'Riley because now, because it's okay to rockout.] Teenage Wasteland! Peter said he forgot to confirm the pickup and his wife wanted to pick him up anyway. They're all wasted!!!! So all that grief for nothing.

Dave has me buying lottery tickets. I don't really understand the lottery, but my dad and grandma alway bought one every week. It's $1 or two so, what the heck? I did it last week and this week because nobody won. It's up to $170 million I think. I figure, my life's been kind of crazy up to this point, winning the lottery doesn't seem out of the question.

I think I have tickets to The Hills Have Eyes premiere. I wonder where it's at? Arclight, I hope. I wonder when it is....

BTW, Nick has a new movie... maybe. I wonder if you get a signing bonus when you attach yourself to a movie, because I'm not an expert or anything, but it seems that Nick has a lot of movies on his plate--which is fine--just make one dammit!, so I can work on it.

Running Your Jaw

I had a spectacular night. It's crazy how one night can change a whole week. Before I was blah, today I'm like "bring it on!" I'm sitting here, flipping through the LA weekly plannin' out the weekend, to maximize awesomeness baby, as well as productivity mind you... I went and saw this comedy show Running Your Trap with Jimmy Pardo because his sidekick Pat, is a buddy I used to work with on Trading Spouses. When I worked on Spouses there was this group of us that were fascinated we didn't do a damn thing. Nothing. We would sit together wondering what all there other people in the office did. I used walk around the office really fast once every hour with a pad of paper and a pen making sure that every saw that I looked busy. Pat was the guy of the group who was a story producer, so he was getting paid $2,5oo a week to sit with us assistant story producers earning a meager grand a week to talk about comics, pass around DVDs, take long lunches and try to find something to amuse us. Man... When I think about those days, that was the life, I won't lie to you... I miss the money. Anyhow, Pat emails me or calls me when one of these shows comes up and I haven't seen him in a long time so I gathered up the editorial crew and called over to the girls at the office in sunset and we went to the UCB. --On a side note, all the brits from the office "love comedy", really, they make it a point to say it as often as possible--Before the show I was talking with a friend of someone from the office and get this--she was/is the "paramount insider" reporting to Defamer. In case you are out of the loop, Paramount is in the process of laying off 80% of its employees because it's merging with Dreamworks. She was one of the disgruntled that got the ax and she was saying that because of all her hard work, Mark, the guy who runs Defamer was like 'come down and hang out for a day'. Which I donno how I'd feel about that, because I love Defamer and it might ruin much of the glory to find out that it was run out of some seedy offices in K-town.

During the show they did a valentines edition of I-pod Russian roulette, where Pat had a bunch of playlists in his I-pod with 5 love songs and one bad 80's metal song. Two contestants would trade off putting a fake gun to their head and simultaneously pulling the trigger with the i-pod play button and if you got a love song you lived, an 80's song and you're dead. And then with the next contestant, new playlist. Pat singled me out and made me get up there and I played a few people and was not dying. Then this girl jumped on stage and said, "I know Brad, I went to college with him." **I'm not one to be put on the spot, so apparently my reaction was a mix of horror/ oh Jesus!/ oh, yeah...** Well, it was Kat from Chapman. Does anyone know or remember Kat? I think she was in my freshman seminar class or lived in Braden with me. So that was kind of fun--I felt like the popular guy at the UCB Theatre. I ended up winning I-pod Russian roulette, which I suspect was rigged because--hey I'm the man of the hour. I "won" a cd. Anyway, I'm asking if anyone knows Kat, because after the show I forgot to look for her, so I feel like a dick, so if you know Kat tell her I regret not talking to her.

I'm one of the few people on this earth (read:middle-class america) that doesn't have an i-pod. I really want one. Especially since I walk to and from work everyday. What do I do with that time? Sort out my thoughts, I guess. Talk to myself. I'll tell you what I'm not doing and that's listening to my i-pod. My glasses are starting to be funky so I'm going to have to take money from my fake i-pod account (re:non-existant) to pay for them. That's being an adult I guess.

Three day weekend baby. Ryan from work and I are walking up to Amoeba today at 6pm because RJD2 is spinning with some rapper, after that who knows? That Zack X party will probably be crazy on saturday and I'll try to check that out. I don't even know Zack X, apparently he knows me according to Irv and after viewing the invite, I think I know who he is, but I doubt I've ever spoke to him. Oh well, the list of acceptable dress to the party is pretty funny. I'll probably pass on the viking-type costume and go with gay cowboy style so I can shave my goatee into a moustache and get away with having a dirty man-stach for one night of my life. Maybe I'll go as a homeless person but I'll put money on Dave wearing his Homeless Romantic shirt instead of a proper costume. I also might go to Goob's Presidents Day slumber party on sunday, but last time he had a "slumber party" he changed his mind and we had to go home after we watched Jaws 4. If I do head down to orange, I'll digitize all the footage from the Sweat Shop short into avid so I can edit it at work. Fuck final cut man. I don't have the patience for it. I feel like I owe it to James and Joe to finish the film because there's nothing wrong with it, I just... don't want to edit it. That's my goal next week: edit the Sweat Shop short. The only thing that may hinder that, is I don't remember where I put the original tape. I hope it's my trunk.

Enjoy the weekend.

Amatur Steamster

My aunt and uncle got me a steamer for my birthday. I was not expecting, of all things, a steamer. Anyhow, I want to make the most of it. After work I went the store and dropped a lot of cash on anything I thought I could steam. I was walking around going, 'I wonder what a steamed avocado is like? What about a banana? Cheese? Mmmmm...' So I steamed some string beans, carrots, mushroom, tofu, spinach last night trying a varity of spices, broths, juices, ect. It was fun. Was it good? Well, it was my first time mate... so it was promising. I might do a week of only eating things that come out my steamer. I have at least four more batches of stuff I can make--I haven't even touched the portabellos yet. If your thinking, 'hey brad, how'd you get time to steam when you were supposed to be writing last night?' You are right. I was supposed to be writing with Briana but she wasn't feeling well--she did sound too good--At that point I was on a mission to steam! I still smell like garlic dammit. That doesn't mean I didn't think about writing though. I did have a nice development for the story of my script. I'm trying to outline the script before I write start to write it (ha!).

Speaking of steaming and all that, I clogged up the garbage disposel while cooking and do you ever get terrified to stick your hand down there? I always think of that scene in Final Destination 2 and that freaky garbage disposel shot. I could only stick my hand down there for a short burst before I started thinking about getting my fingers cut off and what I would do the instant my hand did get cut off:

I would try to not cry.
I would call out to Dave to take me to the hospital.
I would have to wrap the hand in a dish towel to stop the bleeding and try not to pass out from the pain.

And then I freaked out because I was like, I don't have health insurance--what the fuck would I do if I lost a hand? On this subject I will talk about my dream, or nightmare, whathaveyou. I was falsely accused of being a mass murderer--it was some sort of mixup. Very Hitchcockian, Wrong Man like. (I did watch it yesterday.) I'm in a mini-mart and the lady behind the counter is freaking out that I'm in the store and I tell her "hold on. I'm innocent until someone can prove my guilt. I didn't do this and you're not a judge, this isn't a courtroom. I just want some cookies." She breaks some glass then runs by me and, in doing so, pushes me down. I stick my hands out and land on the glass shards. My right hand is really cut up and it's painful--really painful. Little shards about, 16 of them in my hand. I try to remove them, but it hurts and I don't have any tweezers. The manager comes out and says "we need to get you to the hospital" and she appogizes for the freaked out worker. We get ready to go to hospital and I think--in my dream, mind you--"I don't have health insurance." I say just that and the manager says, "that will be an expensive proceedure." And I start talking about how the store should cover it because I didn't do anything wrong, much like the murders--which I didn't do and they agree that the ARCO will cover it and the most important thing is to stop the pain. I'm glad because my hand hurts like a bitch. The rest of the dream was the very long and argurous process of filling out forms, traveling, waiting, while in pain--much like boringness of The Wrong Man.

Any thoughts? I should get health insurance...

The mention in Variety of "Final Destination 3" being the biggest oxymoronic title ever--is hilarious. I loved the movie. The first one is not too great, the second one is awesome and so is this one. How can you hate a movie where in all seriousness a guy delivers the line "Fuck you Ben Franklin!" Brilliant, simply brilliant.

Tomorrow marks the first of two straight weeks of Paul Walker movies. Talk about heaven. If there is a guy I can't quit--it's Paul Walker. I'm crossing my fingers that 8 Below will be showing at the Gruman Chinese's theatre and that Running Scared will be in the Dome. Hell, I wish they were both in the dome, but the Arclight isn't getting 8 Below which is a shame because it's kind of trek to got to hollywood and highland. Oh wait--The dog movie is Disney right?? Here's hoping for the El Capitan. I want to check out that online Running Scared video game where you get to play as Paul and your job is to eat out your wife on top of a washing machine. No, I'm not kidding--read about it here. These are going to be two weeks of great.

Misty Mornings

I thought we were joking around about a sudden tempuature drop, but nope, I woke up cold and feeling sick. How does it go from 78 to 58? And why should I care? I can ruff it. I just need to throw another blanket on the bed, but I don't have any more so I'll have to be more creative. I wonder what an Airborn tablet does when you drop it in carrot juice?

When I see my Seahawks hat hanging there near the bed and get the urge to wear it. I look over to an imaginary jury and ask 'too soon?' and then they all hauntingly in unison say 'yes'. I then ask 'what about about Chris Penn and cough syrup?' 'Too soon.' 'What about Mrs. Martin Luthor King?' 'Toon soon, you non-respecting-black-history-month-bastard' No jokes says the jury, so those subjects won't be on in my standup act yet.

It feels like such a long week. I'm not even hyping up the 3day weekend to myself, but god--it's only wednesday. Wednessday morning even.

Tonight I'm meeting up with my writing "partner" Briana. I put those quotes there so you would raise an eyebrow. In truth, it's a terrible choice or words, because 1) she is not a mate, or signifigant other of any sorts and 2) we are not even writing something together which would then make us writing partners. In fact it's a writing meeting, but yeah, I guess I should have said it that way. Sorry for the confusion. One of my goals this year was to put in a conscious effort towards writing weekly in hopes to crank out a first draft a screenplay by the end of the year. Twice a week (ha!) outside of the house. I'm failing pretty miserably. I would like to blame briana but... see the thing is--okay, so briana and I were interns together years ago at Newline and didn't really know eachother too well but she actually moved out from ohio just for the internship then moved back and then a year or so later moved here and didn't know anybody so we started getting meeting at the coffee shop to write. We got real busy at work and whatnot and writing meetings died. And then with this new years resolution I invited her along because I thought she might be interested and she was like sure--I'm sure thing is boring and all but I'll continue--if you want you can skip down to where I talk about music or movies or chris penn or something. But anyways, I actually really think Briana is a talented writer and figure that since I can't write worth shit I should surround myself with writers and it might rub off or eventually they can write stuff for me. Well anyways two weeks ago when I picked her up for our last meeting she was talking to me about a 'problem' and asking me for 'advice', which she never does we usually just keep things about business (read:writing) and it's nice that way. So this screwed everything up, well she had this friend from college who moved out here and the ohio people stick together and stuff but he was doing stupid stuff--I'm paraphrasing here because in the end it's ridiculous--he was like asking people in her and her roommates offices out for drinks as a form of networking and he's really into networking and these people don't know him at all and he's annoying her roommate who just got promoted as an executive at FX (read:jr. associate) and she's worried because her roomate is pissed off at this kid and threating to bury him. How would I hand the situation? Because her roommate will bury him, he's and excecutive and knows people. WAIT!!!--did she just say bury him? I was smiling and going, this seems like a superficial made up problem and was more focused on the whole bury me idea. So your roomate works at FX he might be able to stop him from working on Rescue Me--maybe. Who was he/she kidding? And then as we're having the conversation I saying, 'I donno what I'd do in that situation' while I'm thinking 'This is stupid.' Like really, I wanted to say 'I want your roommate to try and bury me. Try it Mr. FX exc. Come on, make me never work in this town again.' I think networking is kind of idiotic and that discussing networking is even more idiotic that that, but 'bury'? I didn't think people talked like that. Anybody get a high SAT score? What's a word for 'more idiotic that idiotic'?

I'm only Nicing Myself to Death with this post. Go writing meetings!

I want to be hip and listen to new crazy music, but I fail to be impressed with anything like Broken social scene or Wolf parade or whatnot. I'm more into the not not fun scene, but that too far on the lo-fi sometimes. I'm listening to My Bloody Valentine and IQU's sun Q which makes me want to see them live because they put on a kick ass show, but I don't think they are playing tonight... or tomorrow for that matter.

I got a free (read:complimentary) copy of the NY times at Gelsings so screw you NYtime.com I don't need you anymore!

The Office

My office, even after a little bit of decorating, is very bleak. It's nice to casually say--'oh hey, I got one of those in my office' to somebody, and have them turn around and say 'I want my own office'. If only it were as good as it sounds. I don't have any windows and these freakin' lights are driving me nuts. There is no way to stop them from shutting off. --THEY DID IT AGAIN! Dammit... The overhead lights (not florecents thank god) are motioned sensored or something like that and if they don't detect any movement, they turn off. The sensor is all the way over on the other side of the room (it's a very large office, thank you) and I can flail my arms but to no avail. I used to throw things across the room and swear at the sensor, but I broke too many of my belongings when they hit the wall. I know you must be thinking, 'get a lamp' or something, and I do have a lamp, but it fails to light much of the room. It make this office of mine seem lonely and dark. And bleak.

Lately I've been using the darkness to my advantage and just watch DVDs. I'm almost done with my 9-disc Hitchcock set and have ordered a 9-disc pack (*amazon exclusive) of Fox noir movies for my next viewing. I really wish I would use all this paid free time (or work, as I used to refer to it) to write, but again, it's hard to get inspired sitting in the dark. It's hard to do anything in the dark. Except watch movies.

*Amazon told me they would ship for free if I mentioned them, so...

Today is Valentine's Day. Love is dead. It died with Humphery Bogart and Ingrid Bergman. It brings a tear to my eye to say that and if, indeed, this is the first you've heard about Love's death, I'm sorry to brake you the bad news. Now that I mentioned it, I should have brought and watched Casablanca to work with me today. If ever there is a day to remember Love's death, it would be today. Instead, I'm driving down to the O.C. to dance the night away with a yearly revival of Tuesday Night Dance Party. It's the third annual Songs About Doing It tonight, which, of course, is also a shout out to Love.

RIP Love, RIP.