I Told You This Was Going To Take Time

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So I'm slow at updating. I don't care about your crap.

--I think I need to devote an entire session to it's sheer virtuosity, but I do want to briefly mention Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Hands down one of the best movies I've ever seen in my entire life. There is something large to be said about someone (in this case, the genius that is Charlie Kauffman) who can create a "love story" that isn't like any other love story that exists out there. That's hard. The point is this: coming from a guy (in this case, the genius that is me) who is not cynical or bitter but certainly possesses a less-than-amused outlook on "dating", it made me wish I were in love. I highly suggest a viewing.

"Women don't run everything yet because women hate women."--Chris Rock

--Also went to see The Girl Next Door. First of all, the previews made it look like some kind of half-sappy romantic comedy girly movie. It's far more like American Pie, and I mean that in the best possible way. Hilarious. Go see it. Second of all, is there anyone in the history of film who made more of an Aesthetic Leap (TM) in a shorter amount of time than Elisha Cuthbert? Anyone? Good God Damn is this girl amazing. I never watched 24, but she was a cute kid in Old School and now she's sneaking her way onto my damn Hump Island List. I mean...wow. Third, it costs $12--TWELVE F*CKING DOLLARS--to see a movie here. I'll let it go as just that so as not to ignite a profanity-laced tirade that will hang over the L.A. skies thicker than the smog. Twelve f*cking dollars.

"I laugh when I hear about people getting killed by bees. If you're walking through the woods and you hear a bush buzzing, just f*cking walk away from it. Bees aren't scary. Flying horses, that's scary, they can fly by and jack you and kick you. Bees aren't scary. I'll punch every bee in the face. F*ck bees."--Dane Cook.

RANDOM HOLLYWOOD CLUB STORY NUMBER ONE

Last night I and the other two legs of The Tripod, my buddies Nathan and Josh, go to Club Ivar, which is right off The Strip in Hollywood. Damn cool place. Not really my typical style, but I got drunk enough that I danced. Twenty dollar cover charge, and, I mean...Jesus Christ, are you serious? Six dollars per Amstel Light. Whatever. Anyway...

More beautiful people than you could possibly imagine and, basically, my heaven, as there are like 4,000 little Asian girls running around the place. Insanity. I was dropping the Waistband Tuck (TM) every five minutes.

Nathan gets hit on all night. He's tall and a good looking kid and he's also a trained dancer. Which I make fun of him for. A lot. But it gets chicks. Of course, they think he's gay at first, but them's the breaks when you can dance. Don't get me started. So at one point in the night, this girl sidles up to him at the bar. Serious McTrotty. Brown hair, tan, yes. I walk up to find him making conversation. Now apparently in the time before I arrived it became known that she was there by herself. Oh, one last thing: the girl is wearing a shirt that says simple "COCAINE HIGH". Here we go:

NATHAN: "Geoff this is (some name I didn't care to remember)."
GIRL: "Hi."
ME: "Hey, I'm Geoff." (hands are shaken)"

(Pause for moment of silence and station identification.)

ME: "So what does your shirt mean?"
GIRL: "I don't know, what do you think it means?"
ME: "Well, is it, like, Cocaine High like a high school?"
GIRL: "It could be. Is that what you want it to mean?"
ME: "What?"
GIRL: "Nothing."
ME: "So are you just high on coke or are you trying to be irreverent?"
GIRL: "I don't know. Do I look high?"
ME: "There's definitely something wrong with you."

She then proceeded to stare at me blankly for the next few seconds, and I wasn't drunk enough to keep this gem going, so I walked away. Nathan was too polite to make her look any more insane, but he bolted pretty quickly too. So if any of you live in L.A. and you see the girl with the COCAINE HIGH shirt, just remember that her modus operandi is to wear an article of clothing with some obscure phrase printed on it and then act aloof when questioned about such.

--We went golfing the other day (well, three days this week, but this one in particular was special) at a little Par 3 course in Studio City. Walking out of the clubhouse, Nathan looks over to the driving range and goes, "I think that's Joe Pesci." I look over. There's a tiny little guy, maybe 5' 4", old as sh*t and wrinkled up like a wet dollar bill. I tell Nathan no way. Then the guy in question comes walking by. It's Joe Pesci, no question. So two things: first, when did he get so f*cking old? I mean this guy is f*cking old now. Second, what the Christ is he doing at a dumpy little Par 3 golf course? I can't figure this out.

--The grass out here is so green that it f*cking scares me. I just wanted to mention that. It's like neon and glowing. I'm not kidding, I'm a little uneasy.

THE AFOREMENTIONED THE PRICE IS RIGHT TALE

OK, so this is probably really only going to be truly enjoyable for me, and I think I may have made it seem more exciting that it actually was, but f*ck off, it's my Blog. Quick backstory: I used to watch The Price Is Right every day at my grandmother's house with my brother Kyle and Cousin Justin for three straight summers. It was on our docket every day--Bob Barker kept us company from eleven to noon without fail. My grandmother would get pissed and near the point of cursing every time they played The Yodelling Mountain Climber Game or Three Strikes. I mean she hated these games. So anyway, I've wanted to go to a taping for like 12 years now.

So I did, and I've mentioned it's fantasticness before. We got in line on Monday at 6:30 AM and didn't ever get tickets for either show being taped that day. So we got tickets to stand in line to get tickets for the next day, and yes, you read that correctly. They give you tickets...to stand in line...to get the REAL tickets to the show. So the next morning we get there at 5:30 AM and we STILL can only manage stand-by tickets, meaning they gave out their entire allotment of 200 guaranteed-into-the-show tickets. So we go back at 11:30 and stand in another line and end up being within the last 20 people let into the taping. Of course, we stood in that line for four f*cking hours, but I'm not bitter. Here's something interesting: as you file into the studio, you get this quick little interview with the producers, basically your name and where you're from. They decide based on that ten second audition whether or not you'll be on the show. So they have their contestants picked before the damn thing even starts.

So we get in and the studio where it's taped is F*CKING SMALL. Like tiny. They make it look so damn big on television. I still can't get over that. So anyway, Barker comes out, and it's a dream come true, everything I had hoped it would be, and so on and so forth. One drawback: you get so absolutely tired of clapping that you want to rip your nametag off and give yourself enough papercuts to the throat that you eventually slit it so you die. Did I overstate that? Nah. Here's the setup...

We are in the middle back portion of the studio. There are lots of groups of people together, but to my left there is a gaggle of about 20 kids from UCSB. To my left there is a huge section of 30-40 nurses. Well, one of the college kids gets called to come on down as does one of the nurses. Their respective groups go apesh*t. The nurse, in fact, end up making it to the Showcase Showdown and winning the whole damn show. This is when it gets classic. When you win the Showdown, Bob invites your entire group up on stage to celebrate with you and, like, you know, run through your new f*cking Winnebago and sh*t (I'm not bitter). So all these nurses come galloping up onto the stage, and they're screaming and hugging and whatnot. Then, all of a sudden, some random tall gangly kid takes off from the UCSB group and runs up on stage celebrating with the nurses. He's hugging and cheering and slapping high fives. He hugs Bob Barker and kisses the chick who won on the cheek. He waves to the camera.

The nurses don't have a f*cking clue who this kid is. But now he's a prominent part of the party and he's got his mug on TV. No one is going to say anything, partially because you'd look like an ass for kicking the kid off TV, and partially because they're so happy they don't really care. F*cking brilliant. The kid's friends are in the audience enjoying every moment, but I think I got more out of it that anyone. I talked about for the next two days. I mean really, who else can say they crashed a celebration on The Price Is Right?

So yeah, I like it here and I think I'm going to stay for a while. I like my life now and things seem to be moving in a very positive direction, so that can only mean one of a few things:

1) The course of my luck has finally changed and I'm on the way up, with mostly good things happening to me from here on out.

2) We are about to get a 15.6 earthquake centered directly under the floorboards in my kitchenette. I will be horribly maimed and left in pain for the rest of my life, but not lucky enough to be killed.

3) I am a few days away from an attack by Africanized Bees.

4) I am about to get a disease that makes my feet fall off.

If any of you know me, you know these are all more than a scant possibility, save for #1, which is a longshot. But I'll take my chances.