I AM TERRIFIED OF...

One day walking into my closet to find out my favorite sweatpants and hooded sweatshirts have moved on to greener pastures.  The thought of them not being there keeps me up at night.  I don't have kids.  I don't have a dog.  I have comfortable house clothes and I care for them with all my heart.  And the best part is they don't need to be fed, nor do they talk back.  They're just awesome.  If you're anything like me, you love lounging around in your sweats.  After a long day of work, I can't wait to get home, throw my clothes in the hamper and suit up in my in-house UNIFORM (Jets hoodie, Nike sweatpants and slippers).

A great pair of SWEATS are hard to come by.  Over the years, I've had so many pairs of sweatpants, especially with all the sports I played.  We got a new pair every year for football, in both High School and College.  Man, they were comfy.  So that means I should have 8 pairs, right?  I'm no Mathematician, but that sounds correct.  Well guess what... Not even close.  I have 2.  One from HS and one from college.  Unbelievable.

The last remaining HS pair WAS great, but the waistband has since worn out, so they hang off my skinny ass.  Speaking of asses, there's a huge hole in the ass of those pants.  I have no idea where it came from.  And the College pair is now GINORMOUS (cause I used to be 35 pounds heavier) and they have oil stains all over them.  A few years back, I bought some oil to refill my engine and didn't use it all.  Like an idiot, I threw the opened container into my trunk right next to my sweats, so I can't exactly wear them in public.  They look like they've been floating in the Gulf Of Mexico for the last month.

Now HOODIES are a different story.  First off they're EXPENSIVE, so when I get a free one I'm pumped.  I got one in High School for a State Championship and it was a bit small.  I looked like a creepy hipster in it, so I gave it to a friend.  He now parades around New York City donning my famed hoodie claiming he went to my school and played on that championship team.  My college hoodie still hangs in my closet, but is mostly used for working out.  Second, the actual HOOD has to be perfect size in order for me to fall in love.  This may sound crazy, but all hoods are different.  It needs to be just oversized, so my obscenely large DOME can fit in it and if I want to sleep with the hood on, I can... without choking myself to death.  Well, beggars can't be choosers... The truth is a Hoodie is kind of like pizza... Even when it's bad... it's  good.

For some people it's a flannel shirt and a nice pair of pajama pants.  That's not for me, but I get it.  To each his own.

What I don't get is why it's frowned upon to leave your house in anything but nice clothes.  Celebrities are constantly getting bashed for their fashion sense at the supermarket.  I'm not a Mariah Carey fan, but who gives a flying fuck if she's wearing a butt ugly neon green valor jumpsuit at Target?  I know I don't.  I know they're celebrities and we hold them to such a high standard since they're in the spotlight, but should they have to be dressed for a Red Carpet event while at RALPH'S picking up baby wipes and toothpaste?  I don't think so.  I say wear whatever the hell you want... And let's leave these mother fuckers alone.  They're people too.

Comfort is key.  If you're comfortable; you're good to go.  Now, I'm not saying if your sweatpants have an enormous hole in the ass, you're 175lbs overweight, and wearing a belly shirt you should leave your living room... Cause you shouldn't.  But if you are rocking a sweet pair of sweats and a hoodie while at CVS to buy condoms (even if you're a extra on Hannah Montana), I ain't mad at you.

If I could go everywhere in my slippers I would, but then I couldn't get into my bed with them... And I would be mistaken for a homeless man, again.  Yes, it's happened before, and I'm sure it'll happen again.  If I were famous, I would most certainly be the guy getting bashed for his sense of style at the grocery store... And I wouldn't give a shit.  I'm all about the sweats baby.

So looking back I wonder where all those sweatpants went.  I know my football sweats from HS were robbed by various girlfriends over the years.  And there's no doubt about it, my hoodies shared the same fate.  Women love to steal men's comfortable knocking around clothes.  What's up with that?  If I let you rock one of my HOODIES, it doesn't mean you can take off and never return it.  That duty will be for my wife, because I know where she lives.  Broads are dancing around their living rooms right now in my HOODIES and SWEATS all over the country wondering where the hell they got them.  Pisses me off.  No respect.  Stay the hell out of my closet!!!

I AM WONDERING...

about the actors who participate in commercials for prescription drugs and weight loss products.  They must be getting PAID.  Bigtime.  Well, obviously, but notice how you never see any SUPERSTARS doing promos for VALTREX or that HPV shot for women to prevent Genital Warts.  Imagine Kate Hudson doing an ad for Herpes medication... If she did, I bet she wouldn't be getting banged by any NEW YORK YANKEES.

Poor Sally Field.  She's the biggest actor I can think of involved in this bullshit.  She is the spokeswoman for BONIVA.  It's a prescription medication used for osteoporosis treatment in post menopausal women.  Boniva helps reverse bone loss.  I guess it's not bullshit after all.  I find myself feeling bad for her.  I think, "Man, she was so hot in Smokey and the Bandit".  Then I wonder if she even has the disease.  She better, because if she's out there lying that would be a motherfucker.  No seriously, she's doing a good thing spreading the word about prevention and detection of the disease, but make no mistake about it, she is making BANK off of her demise.  And she was still smoking hot as Forrest Gump's mom, I just wish she would have drank more milk in her youth.

What about Jason Alexander?  I know you're from New Jersey, so I'm a fan, but what's going on with these Jenny Craig ads?  He's definitely making a pretty penny.  Was he even fat?  I didn't think so.  Yeah, he was a little chunky, but George Costanza isn't supposed to be skinny.  If he starts looking like Al Roker, I'm going to shoot myself in the face.

Jenny Craig isn't the only one... I see a lot of my favorite football players doing the Weight Watchers commercials.  20 pounds for 20 bucks... or some shit like that.  Give me a break.  You and I both know that shit costs way more than that.  And Dan Marino was NEVER dumpy, yet he's in the ads.  That guy is a maniac.  It would be impossible for him to be fat.  So what does this mean anyway?  Will football fans follow in his footsteps by eating non salted pretzels all day?  Will they start taking wheat grass shots while tailgating in the parking lot?  Dolphins fans maybe, but the rest of us... I doubt it.

You know what I'd really like to see...  Some celebrity whore or gigolo telling the world they have an STD.  That would take BALLS.  I bet that would get everyone's attention.  I mean, as a collective society we hang on every word a celebrity says, so why shouldn't they step out.  And by stepping out, I don't just mean out of the homosexual closet (which is also good), but the STD closet needs to open up, too.  I know it's embarrassing, but it will help a lot of people out.  Imagine Angelina Jolie telling the world she got herpes from banging Billy Bob Thornton without a rubber in the back of a limo... It would be ground-breaking... And awesome.  I bet you people would use condoms more often.  I can see some silly college broad in Middle America right now telling her friend, "I mean, like, if Angelina can get it... We better be careful... Does that mean Brad is tainted too?"

One of my favorite commercials out there right now is for VIAGRA.  It's the one with a middle aged man with ED (Erectile Dysfunction).  Go figure.  This guy is walking down the street and his reflection in a window says to him, "So, heading to the doctor?"  "Uh, yeah" the man answers.  "You gonna ask him this time" the reflection continues.  Man: "About what?"  Reflection: "Our Erectile Dysfunction."   Man: "SHHH! NO, I don't want to talk about it.  Reflection: "Look, you're not alone.  Millions of men with ED have talked to their doctors."  Man: "I don't know."  Reflection: "We can do this." Man: "Okay."  Then he walks into the doctor's office and obviously tells him about his noodle.  And the best part... On the way out he HI-Fives his reflection in the window.  I lose it every time.  HILARIOUS.  I know if that was me, I'd be home in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror naked yelling at my JOHNSON to perform... "You're a fucking soldier!!! Stand at attention!!! NOW!!!"  

I would kill to see Clint Eastwood doing an ad like this one.  I would die.  For the record, I hope this is NEVER a problem I have to deal with.  According to my DAD, I never will.  He says, "HA! You have nothing to worry about, son. The Men in our family are STRONG LIKE BULL!!!"

I AM THE KIND OF GUY...

Who notices all the faults of people... Especially a potential lady friend.  Sometimes they're great, and any other normal human being would see them for who they really are, but not me.  Shit, I'm far (not that far) from perfect, but I like who I am and I love to adhere to MY specific rule book.  It's definitely not fair to pick a lady (or dude) apart before you even get to know them, but life's not fair.

The rules I live by have most certainly limited my vision.  I can't see past a THIRD nipple.  I don't understand people who don't read.  I can't get past the fact a girl smokes.  If she has a kid, it scares the shit out of me because the last thing I want to do is shoplift the POOTY from a baby's mama.  Or how about a girl that has dated one of my friends in the past?  They're definitely off limits.  Who wants to double dip after one of my friends anyway?  And rich girls kill me too.  For some reason I don't have anything in common with a girl who has been proudly throwing around a BLACK AMEX CARD since she was 8.  Maybe it's because my Capital One card has a $500.00 limit.

I'm at an age when these things matter.  Getting older is a bitch.  These situations never bothered me before.  In High School and College, you found a little lady, made whoopie for a while and moved on.  I rarely gave a shit who she slept with, or how many prison sentences she served.  Every so often, I found one I really liked and dated her for as long as possible.  It usually took at least 8 months before I realized she had 6 toes on her left foot, walked with a limp, snorted coke in the laundry room on Tuesdays, and drank like she was preparing to play Amy Winehouse in a Biopic.  Now, I notice that shit in 30 seconds.

One time, I dated a girl who laughed at everything I said.  I know I'm funny, but nobody's that funny.  She disappeared quicker than Chris Brown's career.  He did have that one great song... "It's like a waited my whole life, for this one night..."  Sorry.  Love that track.  And most likely he'll be back in a big way since now that I think of it, his music is pretty damn good.
  

Another time, I dated a girl who used to stare at me while I slept... Like all the time.  Are you serious?  Listen, I'm not that good looking and when I wake up and you're in my face all I can think of is Glenn Close in "Fatal Attraction" and where did I put the Hammer again?  I'm not interested in dating someone that might murder me while I'm counting sheep.  At least have the common decency to attack me while I'm watching American Idol.

Sometimes AGE gets in the way.  Out here in Hollywood, it's not frowned upon to date someone much older or younger than you.  Look at Hugh Hefner for Christ's sake... That dude has 21 year old SPINNERS grabbing at his old junk at the drop of a hat.  And how about this kid from "KICK-ASS" (great movie by the way)... He knocked up a producer 24 years older than him.  It cracks me up.  What do these people have to talk about?  Him:  "Hey, you like the Beatles?"  Her:  "Yes I do."  No shit SHERLOCK, everybody likes the Beatles.  Cut to 5 years, 4 divorces, 3 kids, 2 STDs, and 1 dog later... Still have anything to talk about?  Yeah, bills and ALIMONY.  Fuck that.

I find it especially difficult to converse with people way younger than me.  21 year old girls are on a different plane of existence than me.  They want frat boys, money, nice cars and feigned confidence, not male pattern baldness and 1994 Infiniti.  And older women want you to be their boy-toy.  That's fine for a little while, but nothing long term is going to come to fruition.

5 years.  That's my limit.  If a girl is five years older or younger; we're still in the same generation.  I don't have to worry about her 8-track player breaking and her eggs drying up or talking in that acronym language I'll never comprehend.  It's taking over the planet.  For example... "OMG, it wuz gr8 2 C U yesterday!"  Holy Shit!  She spelled yesterday correctly!  It's like pulling teeth.  Speak English you lazy mother fuckers.

And this whole TWITTER thing...  People who are obsessed with Twitter drive me nuts.  Who gives a fuck?  Twitter sucks.  That's right, I said it.  Everyone I know is telling me I have to update my Twitter account.  They say it will give me a bigger audience.  I say people will only read the Twat or Tweet or whatever the fuck it's called.  Who knows... Maybe my blog sucks.  You may be right, but I'll tell you who loves it... My MOM.  And she's rarely wrong about anything... Just ask my old man.

What's with this obsession of following your favorite celebrities on Twitter?  You don't know those people, so why are you worried about what they're doing at that exact moment?  You should probably worry about what you're doing right now... Probably wasting your life pretending to be someone you're not.  Who gives a shit where Kim Kardashian is shopping right now?  Who the HELL is that girl anyway?  Why does she have a show?  A career?  All I know is she's the girl who gets broken off by REGGIE BUSH.  Great job pal, cause she's kind of hot.

Sometimes things don't work out the way you planned.  Maybe age just IS a NUMBER.  I guess people can be much more than the 47 CAMELS they smoke a day.  Maybe that third nipple is an erogenous zone just waiting to be explored.  Perhaps she's staring at you because she loves you.  Maybe you are that funny.  Maybe she reads while she's on the toilet and you just don't know it.  Maybe she dated one of your friends to get closer to you.  Creepy, but possible.  I hope you're not like ME.  Don't be that kind of guy or gal.  You should be willing and able to modify your rule book and give people a chance.

Happy Friday Jerks!  I have a big weekend before me.  I'm heading over to GOLF-N-STUFF tomorrow to meet up with Elisabeth Shue and if I see that Cobra Kai pussy Johnny Lawrence, I'm going to stuff his head in the fucking POP-A-SHOT! 

I AM IRKED WHEN...

1.)  I walk into the bank and one of those account mangers is standing by the teller line asking everyone in creation if they have a straight deposit so they can do it for them.  Don't you think if they had a straight deposit they would go to the ATM?  Just because nobody is opening any new accounts due to the fact we're all broke and you're fucking BORED doesn't make it right.  I know you're trying to be helpful, but BEAT IT NERD.

2.)  People are riding bikes and talking on their Cell Phones.  You have got to be kidding me.  I want to throw a stick between your spokes anyway because you're fucking up traffic, but now I just want to cut you off and watch you go flying into oncoming traffic.

3.)  People carry cameras everywhere.  I get it.  You're a PHOTOGRAPHER (sorry Derek, I love ya buddy) or a TOURIST... same thing.  Do you need to document the time you stepped in SHIT on LaBrea?  I'm pretty sure you'll remember it without the photo when your using a plastic fork to scrape the doo-doo off your shoe.  That rhymed.  Maybe I'm jealous because I don't have any pictures and the only camera I've ever had was a disposable.

4.)  Creditors call me for other people.  Who the fuck gave you the right to give my name and number out?  Not cool.  When they call me, I unleash the wrath of God on the operator.  I make them feel like they should jump off the Golden Gate Bridge, followed by me smashing my phone on the ground.  If I have to answer your deadbeat calls, you have to buy me a new phone and pay for my therapy sessions.  I know that's not possible cause you're being hunted by a collection agency.  It's not my fault you don't pay your bills... Leave me out of it.  This makes me so angry I want to defriend you on FACEBOOK.

5.)  Men or Women have a ridiculous amount of holes in their jeans.  Every once in a while it's okay.  For example... on Halloween, Slut night, at a gay bar, a construction site, or church... Those are the only exceptions.  If you look like you just ran through a sticker bush or were taking shrapnel on the beach at Normandy and you're in a restaurant... You're an asshole.

6.)  The WASHING MACHINE or DRYER (one of those assholes) eats one of my socks.  Where did that little mother fucker go?  I know he was in there when I started the wash.  I'm not sure why socks hate me.  My feet don't stink.  Did he hate me that much he jumped behind the dryer?  Probably.   And he knows I'm too Damn lazy to maneuver around the dryer to get anything. (And yes, socks are men because no woman would be caught dead near your feet.)  Even if I dropped a pair of Erin Andrews' panties back there, I'd have to chalk them up... No way I'm going back there.

7a.)  A dude's fly is down and nobody tells him.  What kind of society is this that we're willing to let a fellow man walk around while his BIRD is about to ESCAPE FROM ALCATRAZ?  Let a brother know for Christ's sake.

7b.) Someone unknowingly has a gigantic whitehead on their face.  I know I've said you're not supposed to touch your face, but when there is just one and it looks like a moon crater filled with cream cheese, it's time to make a move.  I'm definitely going to tell you take care of it and I expect you to do the same for me.  So go wash your hands, pop that shit, wash your hands again and you can come back without having to worry about me regurgitating my burger onto your plate.

8.)  My boss gives me more keys for work.  I already look like a JANITOR from Iselin Middle School.  I have more keys on my keychain than a locksmith.  Do they have a lot of keys?  Who knows.  I mean how many keys do we need?  One for the car, one for the trunk, the front door, the back door, the gate, the upper lock, the bottom lock, the stock room, the back office, this case, that case, the key to your heart... Jesus.  I can't walk around without it looking like I have an army of G.I. JOES in my pocket.  I make so much noise when I walk that everywhere I go people think I'm there to fix the toilet... It's a travesty.  

9.)  I need work done in my mouth and the Dentist charges me 1,000,000 dollars.  I know I'm an indentured servant without Dental Insurance, but there's got to be a discount you can give me.  That shit is expensive.  How about I don't break your fucking nose and hit you in the kneecap with a sledge hammer and you fill my cavity for $20?  Sound good?  Yeah, I thought so.  Where's the mob when you need them?  Boy, I miss New Jersey.

10.)  My family refuses to fly.  It's 2010 guys.  Planes are safe.  Fact.  Yes, they suck when you're in the cattle car, but it's only for a few hours.  And if that MASHER SULLY can land a plane in the Hudson River, I think you should feel safe... cause I do.  I know I made the decision to move WEST, but you crackers can come visit me too, you know?  Don't worry Ma, you're excluded and I'm coming to visit soon.

I AM A WINE TOUR ENTHUSIAST...

I never really considered taking a wine tour until I saw the film "Sideways".   I thought it looked like fun if you could get a nice group together or if you wanted to take your significant other on a romantic weekend.   I've wanted to do it ever since; I just never got around to it.

My friends are getting married... To each other.  One boy, one girl.  Very Traditional.  Obviously an engagement party was necessary ASAP!  One of my friends took the initiative to rent a LIMO BUS last Saturday, which would take us on a WINE TOUR north of Santa Barbara.  At first I thought, "This will be fun, but I'm definitely going to have a headache on Sunday."  I'm not much of a wine drinker... Well not on a level where I can drink it all day, but I do like to have an occasional glass while cooking or dining.  Then it occurred to me, "34 people on one bus, drinking?"  This was either going to be my worst nightmare or the BEST TIME EVER.  Either way, I was pumped.

I was excited to learn about the origins of the wines and how they care for the grapes.  The whole wine making process intrigued me.  That, and the dance party that was sure to break out on this mobile nightclub.  A small group of us were already hanging out in my kitchen having Bloody Marys and Mimosas by 8:30AM Saturday morning...  Not me, I was drinking Ginger Ale like a sissy.

So this bus, inappropriately named HERCULES, pulls up in front of my house at 8:50AM.  It's fully equipped with a monster sound system, 3 fully stocked bars, a 52 inch HDTV, and 34 raging twenty and thirty-somethings .  When I stepped onto this blasphemous automobile, it was loud.  People were eating, drinking and being merry like that Dave Matthews song.  I knew immediately this day was going to be INSANE.

Moments later, I shoved a bagel down my throat to get a layer of carbs into my belly in order to absorb the alcohol (more carbs) I was about to consume.  I kicked off the day with a few MIMOSAS.  Then I followed up with a few cups of SANGRIA.  Before I knew it, I was jamming on my AIR GUITAR to songs that didn't require one.  This was only 20 minutes into the trip.

About 10 seconds after my VAN HALEN-like solo, the bus overheated for the first time.  That's right kids, it overheated more than once.  Apparently we were too heavy.  I couldn't believe it.  It wasn't like we were the KLUMPS or anything... There were just a bunch of skinny yuppies and creative types partying like rockstars.  It was only 9:30, and people were already swinging from the rafters.  It was awesome.  Nobody had a care in the world.  Everyone stayed positive, even though JERKULES couldn't handle us.

After a few minutes of partying by the side of the road (and by partying I'm referring to drinking and going #1 behind every bush in sight), HERCULES got her second wind.  We hopped back on and off we plunged into oblivion.

Upon our arrival at the first tasting, we were feeling great.  Everyone was on top of the world.  The only bad thing was the bathroom on the bus.  It smelled like a garbage dump on STATEN ISLAND, so we couldn't wait to get off, but even that couldn't get us down.

The first stop was in a quaint little town with various wineries lining the streets.  All we did was walk in, line up at the counter, grab a glass, and taste every bottle in the house.  Occasionally we would get an explanation, but I'm pretty sure most of us weren't listening.  So much for the history lesson I was excited about.

Cut to five hours later...  We were at our last stop having lunch in a vineyard.  The refuel was necessary... For party goers and Hercules who overheated again.  We had our final tasting ahead of us.  The guy came out and we were cutting him off every chance we got to give toasts to the future bride and groom.  Some of us were out back where they kept the barrels and mixed the wine.  One of my friends even climbed into a large wine vat for a picture.  Of course another friend locked him in.  It was hilarious.  This guy doing the explaining hated us and eventually gave up, but nobody cared.

The ride back was intense.  Some people were KNOCKED OUT.  I don't know how because the music was super loud and AMAZING.  Some people were dancing on poles (I won't mention any names).  Some people were first basing (again, no names).  We needed more alcohol.  We stopped at a gas station and picked up enough beer to stock SHEA STADIUM.  And again... Everyone peed illegally and got back on the bus.

An hour or so later we arrived in Santa Monica.  The bus pulled over at an Irish Pub on WILSHIRE.  Everyone was deciding whether or not to continue this night of tomfoolery... And it wasn't even night yet.  It was probably 6:30PM.  Sure enough, 98% of us went into the bar.  The funny thing was, we left anything we couldn't carry in (coolers, bags, food, wine glasses, cases of beer, jackets, shades) either on the bus or in the parking lot and continued the night which ended hours later at a KARAOKE bar a few blocks away.  I'm pretty sure 3 or 4 dudes in our group sang "We Belong" by Pat Benatar.  One of whom had his shirt off.  Great night.

So do I recommend taking a wine tour with a large group of friends?  Yes.  Do I recommend you rent HERCULES?  Yes.  Should you bring your AIR GUITAR?  YUP!  There's nothing better than hitting the wine country with 34 of your closest friends.  We made it through the day with no casualties, a ton of memorable moments, and hundreds of great pictures.  I would do it every weekend if I could.  If I wasn't a wine tour enthusiast before, I most certainly am now.

Congratulations go out to MIKE and TRICIA!!!  That was the best (and only) engagement party I've ever attended.  I love you guys!  

I AM A JACK OF ALL TRADES...

At least that's what I tell myself.  I've worked in many fields.  Here's a list of my many professions... Stripper, Male Escort, Streetwalker, Professional Thumb Wrestler, KY Jelly Wrestler, Arm Wrestler, Center for the Knicks, Safety for the JETS, Logger, and Stunt double for Jean-Claude Van Damme.  I know, I'm impressive... Stop oooing and aaahhhing.  Obviously I've never done any of those things, with the exception of KY Wrestler and Male escort.  Just kidding.  Well, maybe not... If I'm not careful over the next year; I may wind up on the street hooking so I can grab myself an Egg McMuffin.

During summers while in while in High School, I worked as granite counter top installer and a tile layer.  While in college, I worked in many bars as a server, barback, and a bouncer (eat shit, I'm intimidating).  I also volunteered at a senior citizens home on an activities council.  And after that I worked at a hospital in the cardiac rehab department.  There, I developed a proper exercise program for patients recovering from heart disease.

After graduation, I took my teaching degree home to take a job as a full time substitute.  It was an easy choice because I was next in line for a full time teaching position in the Health Department.  That, and my brother worked there as a History and P.E. teacher.  He was also the head football coach and I wanted to coach with him.  

Sometimes during the day when our classrooms were across the hall from one another we would pass notes back and forth like 5th graders.  I'd send a kid with a note saying, "Run this across the hall to my brother, it's important."  Inside the note it would read, "You're a dipshit."  That lasted about 2 years and I loved it.

At the end of my illustrious teaching career I started writing again.  My friend and I decided to move to LA with hopes of working in entertainment.  When I arrived, I needed a job asap cause my bank account had less money than what was stashed in my piggy bank in 1st grade.  It took me two days to find one.  I got a job working for a landscape architect.  We built decks, playgrounds, a trellis or two filled with flowers and planted wonderful landscapes all over Southern California.  It was nice to work outside for a change.  I held this gig for a year.

Afterward, I moved to Santa Barbara and helped my roommate pen a short film.  Soon enough we shot it.  He directed, I starred.  We edited it together with the help of another good friend who was also involved in the writing process.  Once we had a product we were proud of, we submitted it to a few film festivals.  It was out first project, so we didn't expect anything, but to our surprise, it was accepted into three International Festivals right away.  We toured around with it for a little while, pretending we were the next big thing.  Really we were losers, but hey... Fake it til you make it.

During that time I got a gig as a handler for a Hip Hop Group performing at Sundance.  My roommate's dad made a documentary about them and he asked me to come help out.  It was a blast.  Little did I know, a year later I would be hired on the project as an assistant and eventually become a producer.

Next, I got a job working for these GAZILLIONAIRES as a handyman.  They paid me nicely to come to their house everyday and fix anything I could find a problem with.  There was plenty to keep me busy all day, but I preferred bullshitting with the Butler.  That's right, they had a butler.  I wish I had my own Alfred.  The house was huge.  It was like The Getty... A gigantic structure filled with art and a lot of other shit.  It was so big it had a gift wrapping room, which was bigger than my bedroom.  The room was filled with everything you see in a aisle at CVS during the Holidays.  It was heaven.  This job lasted 4 months.

Following my "Tim the Tool Man" stint, I got a job working retail at a designer vinyl toy shop and gallery.  And a few months later I left for New York to work on the previously mentioned Documentary.  I was there for 6 months.  When I came back, I picked up right where I left off at the toy shop.  I still work there today.  That was almost 4 years ago.  Now I work there in a different capacity... Online and store manager.  Nothing fancy.  Just a job folks.  A brother has to eat.

During my 4 years here, I've worked on numerous other projects.  I've done many short films and 2 features.  I audition when I can, but definitely need to get more involved.  I'm on it.

The other day a friend of mine called asking if I knew anyone who could help him with some sound work on a TV show.  My roommate couldn't do it, so I said "no."  Ten seconds after he hung up I thought, "Fuck me, I'll do it. I need the money."  I called him back and said, "What about me?"  He said, "Okay."

I'd never worked with sound before, but I did know those guys are usually characters on SET.  He hired me to be the BOOM OPERATOR for a popular show on USA.  If you don't know what a Boom Operator does, he/she is the one closest to the actors.  They hold a long, adjustable graphite stick with a microphone on the end of it over the actors heads (just out of frame) to pick up their conversations.  It may sound silly, but it's important.  Obviously I'd rather be in front of the camera, but I figured it would be good to get another perspective.  Well that and working on a set is too much fun to pass up.  

We show up at the stage and who's the first person I see?  Tiffani Amber Thiessen.  Yup... Kelly Capowski... In the flesh.  I began having flashbacks of my childhood.  Watching "SAVED BY THE BELL" everyday after school was my religion.  And on Saturday Mornings I wouldn't leave the house until I had my Kelly fix.  Man that chick was hot.  I thought I would marry her years later on a cruise to Hawaii.  Did I mention she is still hot?  Well she is.  I also missed the God Damn boat on marrying her, cause she was 8 months pregnant and married.  Damn.  She's still hot though and cool as hell.  She was maybe the coolest actress I've encountered.  She was always in good spirits and extremely friendly to the crew.  If you know anything about movies or TV, you know there's nothing more important that a pleasant actor on SET.  When they suck, the whole set sucks.  And Capowski was flat out awesome.

My buddy and I had a blast on Set.  We dicked around in between setups and had a solid manhang, but while we were working we were focused.  There's a time to work and time to play and on a set there's time for both.  It's the hurry up and wait game...  During the wait...  It's great talking into the microphone from across the set and just cracking on people.  All you do is laugh in between takes and everybody around you wants to know what's so funny.  Later when he was filling out the sound reports, which we forgot to do after the first two scenes, I watched him do so carefully.  One of the producers was furious we didn't do it the first time.  His concern was warranted.  I sat down next to him and noticed where he filled in the title of the show he wrote... "BLUE COLLAR" on all the cards.  I go, "Dude, what the fuck are you doing?  The show is called "WHITE COLLAR" you fucking idiot!"  He had to fill them all out again.  We laughed for 20 minutes straight.  I guess you had to be there.

My point is... Working in any capacity in the field of your liking can be beneficial and fun.  It will give you a greater respect for the hard working people who make much less than you might.  It takes a village to make a film or TV show work.  So respect the CREW!  GOOOOO BAYSIDE!!!

I AM A YEAR OLD...

One year ago today, I unleashed my unoriginal thoughts upon the world of BLOGGING.  I figured I'd write 5, maybe 10 entries in this thingamajig and give it up, but as you all know, I was wrong.  Looking back, I can't believe I had that much to say, but anyone who knows me well, knows I'm rarely without words to share.

It's been an interesting year.  I can't say I've made much progress professionally, but I sure have learned a great deal about myself as a human being.  Here are a few lessons I've learned and relearned:

1.)  ALWAYS go with your FIRST INSTINCT.  If you feel like someone is a jackass from the moment you meet them; you're probably right.  So humor them for a bit, laugh at their unfunny jokes, let them poke fun at you, sarcastically compliment their hipster jacket and don't be a jerkoff.  This will allow you to go on your merry way with a smile knowing you didn't let someone you'll never see again get under your skin.  Sometimes it pays dividends when you bite your fucking tongue.  

2.)  Never LEAD people on.  Even if you're doing it subconsciously, it doesn't make it right.  It's always best not to get involved in a situation you know that will escalate to something you can't or don't want to handle.  Be honest from the get-go.  It may seem harsh and fucked up, but you'll feel much better about it later.  People will always find reasons to dislike you, don't give them any more.

3.)  Continue to WORK HARD.  PURSUE. PURSUE. PURSUE.  No matter what it is you want in this life, no matter how old you are, you CANNOT expect handouts.  They are few and far between and most of the people who receive them are undeserving.  So don't worry about them, focus on YOU.  One needs to work diligently to reach a goal.  You must sacrifice if you want success.  It's okay to be selfish every once in a while.

4.)  LUCK is a word for the WEAK.  We make our own luck, our own breaks.  Yeah, bad shit happens to the best of us, but we're not measured by how many times we fall down.  It's how many times we're willing to get back up and what we're willing to do once we're standing.

5.)  YOU HAVE TO CAPITALIZE ON YOUR OPPORTUNITIES.  Good opportunities are rare, so we must take advantage of every one.  If you have an audition or a job interview, and you haven't had one in months, you MUST be prepared.  When someone goes out on a limb for you and an opportunity presents itself, it's up to you to make the most of it.  You have no one to blame but yourself.

6.)  Don't be so HARD on yourself.  If you're like me; YOU are your harshest critic.  It's okay to analyze your moves, but don't over-analyze.  If you've made a mistake, learn from it and move on.  Otherwise you'll wind up like one of those people in the DEPRESSION commercials.  "Who does depression effect?"  Everyone."  If you're smart about this one, you can say, "NOT ME" when the commercial comes on. 

7.)  Good friends are rare.  I've had the privilege of having many friends along the way.  Most people say they can count their true friends on one hand.  I like to believe I'd need a few more hands than that.  Hold on to your friends.  Be there for them... Cause in times of need they will always be there for you.

8.)  Everyone is JEALOUS of something.  Even if you're not the jealous type (like me), there will always be someone who has more than you do.  Someone who has a job you want.  A car you want.  The type of girl you wish you had.  A bank account you envy.  The truth is, none of that shit matters.  It's not worth being envious of anyone else.  Take a step back... look at your life... You probably have it pretty damn good and someone is most likely envious of you.  And remember, even when you're down, somebody always, and I MEAN ALWAYS, has it worse... way worse.

9.)  You have nothing to be ASHAMED of... Unless of course you're a flasher, murderer, a pederast, or a Sarah Palin supporting Republican...  If you want to listen to BETTE MIDLER in your car and belt out the chorus at the top of your lungs, by all means sing away... "Cause you are the wind beneath my wings."  Just don't crash into anyone while singing and texting.  That shit's dangerous.

10.)  You must be willing to HUMILIATE yourself.  To make it in this world (especially in showbiz), you have to be willing to completely humiliate yourself.  Every once in a blue moon you need to make an ass out of yourself just to prove you're human.  It's okay, we all do it on occasion, but don't do it all the time.  It doesn't mean you have to change who you truly are.  Be you, no matter what.  You'll get along just fine that way.  There's nothing worse than a phony.

Well... Happy Anniversary to ME!!!  I hope you've enjoyed this as much as I have.  Have a wonderful April and hopefully I can keep this little thing going.