Today's I.M. conversation

M: i talked to *** last night at happy hour about the party
and he said that i could just crash there

M: but i don't like sleeping in other people's vomit

kennedy: but why not?

M: mine, i'm fine with. just as long as i know what's in the vomit, i'm fine.

kennedy: You're just picky.

M: yeah, i know

M: i need to lower my standards

kennedy: Yeah.

M: i need to live on the edge more

kennedy: Yup.

I went to Trader J0es the other day and bought a loaf of "Mom's White Bread." I realized that the name could be interpreted in two ways. You can see it as "That white bread belongs to Mom," or you can see it as "Mom is not an exciting person."

Oh, yes.

In the middle of work, the pon farr just snuck up on me and now it's taking over. Again. Dear God.

Oh, dear.

By the time you read this, I will still want a nap.

Life is tough

We still have the same president. A friend of mine died two days ago. A special woman lives in another state.

Well, at least I did the dishes last night.

I voted for Kerry.

But not for the reasons you think.

Sometimes life is like a huge game of Jeng@, and someone's about to sneeze.

I've hidden this long enough...

The kid in the Sm@rt and Fin@al commercials scares the shit out of me.

There. I said it.

Today's wish

flyinglessons
Originally uploaded by dookyhead.

With apologies for misquoting D.H.

moi j'ai flashe a nous deux.
un grand baiser d'eternite.
je suis si folle de toi.
oh embrasse-moi ce soir.
un grand baiser d'eternite.

Tonight the rain came down in L.A. in a beautiful, glorious way, the only way it ever comes down in L.A.

I drove through a neighborhood where all the traffic lights were out. The neighborhoods were pretty empty, so there was no cross traffic and I found it hauntingly beautiful. The streets were black and shiny, the rain pattered on the roof of the car, a mellow D@vid B0wie song played on the radio. Driving through the dark intersections filled me with a feeling of dangerous beauty, like watching a sleeping jaguar.

Calling all psychics

A friend of mine read my tar0t cards the other night. She's given me a reading once before. Both times she looked at the card layout and said "Hmmm. That's a little odd."

And I just want to say "THAT'S BECAUSE I'M A LITTLE ODD!"

And on top of everything else...

I'm reporting to jury duty this morning.

Empecé a recordar.
Y paseé
por mi mente y encontré,
aquel rincón que te dejé,
donde guardo los
momentos que no olvidé.
Revivo aquella noche en que
olvidamos lo demás,
el cielo se volvió rojo al sol
vimos bostezar,
se ha perdido entre la gente,
me he perdido yo también,
ya se ha ido el 28 la memoria de
un ayer.

-La 0reja de Van G0gh

It's baaaaaaaack!

Pon farr.

Run.

Good to know

To paraphrase my good friend Amy, cartoons of tiny mice yelling is inherently cute.

Whew. Good.

Don't get me wrong...

I'm in a show where most of the men I rehearse with are gay. WHICH IS FINE BY ME. Anyway, they like to talk about men - h0t men, sexy men, n@ked men, @sses, and pen!s, pen!s, pen!s - which is OK, but once in a while, I want to say "Doesn't anyone want to talk about vaginas?"

Sometimes I can annoy the hell out of me.

I can get real philisophical at the drop of a hat. Really. And if I was listening to me, I would get tired real fast.

For example, last week I was at R@lph's, waiting in line, when I'm thinking stupid bullsh!t actor-y stuff, like "I need new photos...which photographer should I use...who should I send them to..." blah, blah, blah, gag.

Then the two people in front of me were discussing a film that wasn't even out yet, and talking about how it should be marketed, etc. And in the next line, there were like four young actors talking about agents and auditions, and how to get more work, etc. And the magazine racks all had celebrities on the covers, the newest diets, how to make your ass look great, etc.

And for those few seconds, it felt like my life became a small cog in a huge machine called Hollywood, and I really felt how small, insignificant, disposable commodities actors are in this town, and how this industry doesn't look at us as people but as products, and how in the end it's all about money and humanity falls by the wayside, and I just thought "I gotta get the hell out of L.A. soon or I'll just freak."

And last night I was up late (surprise). I was watching this religious program (just out of curiosity...and in the end, it made no sense to me), and afterwards, there was this informercial about this new piece of exercise equipment which is basically a bent stick that you hang on to while you do aerobics and it works your entire body. Whatever. But the guy who was selling it, and everyone in the infomercial was so focused on the amazing-ness of the product that sometimes I wanted to say "IT'S JUST A STICK! What are you people, BLIND?"

And then it went off again, my philosophical streak, thinking about the history of humanity. From ancient times, when we looked to the sky and tried to figure out when would be the best time to harvest and hunt, how we understood nature and worked with it and its goals, and how we have evolved from beautiful creatures that were part of that cycle, into people in tights trying to scam people into forking over tons of money for a fucking stick.

I could go on all day about this, but I can't. I got bills to pay.

YOU MUST CHILL!

First of all, every computer I dealt with today was being a shitbag. Is Mercury in retrograde?

And then tonight at around 11:30pm I'm in the dairy section of R@lph's, looking around, and inside my head I'm screaming "WHO THE FUCK TOOK ALL THE MOTHERFUCKING SOY MILK!?" Which, even in my head, sounded like a strange sentence. Not as strange as "That nun kicked that elephant in the balls," But I digress.

I was really pissed off that the soy milk I wanted was not there, for that was the only reason I made a stop to the grocery store in the first place. I'm thinking "CAN'T ANYTHING GO RIGHT TODAY? PLEASE? WHY? WHY IS LIFE SO DIFFICULT? WHY CAN'T I HAVE NICE THINGS? WHY DO SHITTY THINGS HAPPEN TO NICE PEOPLE LIKE ME? WHAT DID I DO IN A PAST LIFE THAT DEMANDS THIS KIND OF PAYBACK? IS LIFE JUST A BLACK HOLE OF MEANINGLESSNESS? IS HUMANKIND JUST FOOLING ITSELF? IS THIS TRULY MY DESTINY? IS THERE A GOD, AND IF SO, IS HE/SHE JUST AND GOOD, OR DOES HE/SHE EVEN GIVE A SHIT? IS THERE LIFE AFTER DEATH? WHAT IF THIS IS ALL THERE IS? WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN?"

So, I immediatley said to myself "Geez, you're getting all worked up over soy milk." Has ANYONE ever gotten THAT worked up about soy milk? Other than people in the soy milk industry, I mean. Well, apparently, I did.

Despite the fact that they are the source of cooties, I think girls are all right.

P.S.
Air fares to Seattle are pretty low right now! Woo-hoo!!

I need a vacation

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

It's Working!

My website (http://www.imjustaguy.com) is finally working again! Hooray! Hooray for me!

Look, people, it's really, really simple.

I have three rules if you are coming over to my apartment, and they are not very difficult.

1) No smoking.
2) Please keep the noise down if it's after 11pm.
3) You must walk around wearing nothing but your underwear.

Really, people, it's not brain surgery.

TODAY'S DEEP INSTANT MESSAGE CONVERSATION WITH MY BROTHER

ME: Hey.
BRO: Hey
BRO: Are you at work?
ME: Yeah.
BRO: I have to go to the store with Patricia. But I'll be back.
ME: Okay.

The end. And remember, folks, brevity is the soul of wit.

What the world needs now is a little more love

I think there are too many assholes in really important positions (running major corporations, governments, etc.). I propose that all the dickwads who are in charge of really important shit should wake up every morning and tell themselves "today I will be less of an asshole than yesterday."

If this happens, and they actually act upon it, then it is quite conceivable that within several months, someone will give me a hundred million dollars out of the goodness of their hearts.

And I will take that money and buy a small island in the south Pacific where I will build a fortress and surround it with land mines and trip wires and a moat filled with sharks.

I need to get out of L.A.

But I have rehearsals all weekend.

I don't care.

See ya.

If there is a God...

...she would make L.A. and Seattle a 10-minute drive.

Last night I was so tired I had a dream about going to bed.

P.S.
I met a girl. Hee hee!

P.P.S.
Maybe we should use technology to cure cancer instead of this bullshit.

P.P.P.S.
Almost every muscle in my body is sore.

I woke up an hour earlier today. 30 seconds after I got into the shower, the hot water stopped. And it never returned.

I have a really heavy schedule today, so now everyone has to be nice to me forever.

I just made a grilled cheese sandwich on my ironing board with an iron! I feel so B3nny and J00n!

And, on a similar note, I want to make a t-shirt that says "Eat carbs, you narcississtic fucks!"

Today's random thoughts

I don't have sideburns. I just have a couple of stray hairs clinging to the side of my face.

The pon farr is getting so bad, I can't even read a headline without going kinda loony.

You know, if my life doesn't pan out the way I planned, I can always go back to school and learn how to become an emperor. It's never too late to get an education, or to become an emperor of someplace.

Pon Farr invades my websurfing

I must apologize ahead of time, but I am experiencing pon farr. I'm also anticipating the upcoming election, therfore I like this site. A lot. By the way, I have taken the pledge.

And, thanks to my friend's website, I have found this innocent, yet pon farr-ish-ly titled poem, which, on its own, is an innocent little ditty, but through the pon farr filter, it can drive one crazy.

I am all alone at the Morning Job®. Let my N@ked D@nce begin!!!

Today's poll brought to you by My Boredom®

1. Which sounds funnier:
A) ballsack
B) nutsack

2. Which is a better retort:
A) Does the Pope shit in the woods?
B) Is a bear catholic?
C) When monkeys fly out of my butt.
D) Your mom.

3. What is my problem?
A) Lack of vitamins
B) Your head is up your butt
C) Lack of butt vitamins
D) You rely on the word "butt" too much

4. How do you pronounce the shortened version of "brassiere"?
A) bra
B) brar

5. What have you been up to?
A) Not much
B) Your mom

6. Monkeys have flown out of my butt. What does this mean?
A) The apocalypse is upon us.
B) It is flying butt monkey migration season.
C) Nothing. It is absolutely normal.

Please post your replies along with your pin numbers and email passwords.

OK, after some tinkering,

ANYONE CAN POST A COMMENT NOW! HOORAY! HIP HIP HOOORAY! PLEASE COMMENT! COMMENT ON ANYTHING! PLEASE! MY LIFE IS EMPTY AND MEANINGLESS UNLESS YOU GOOD FOLKS COMMENT ON MY BLOG! I'M SERIOUS! I WAS JUST ABOUT TO JUMP OFF A BRIDGE JUST NOW!!!

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PLEASE COMMENT!!!!!

PLEASE!!! IF YOU HAVE ANY DECENCY AT ALL! PLEASE COMMENT!

thank you.

Does anyone still buy Bit O' Honey candy anymore?

The whole country is so insecure right now

Don't be surprised when Homel@nd Security issues a warning that terrorists are planning to attatch a bomb to your nutsack.

I'm all alone at the Morning Job®! I'm all alone at the Morning Job®! And I'll be ALL ALONE all next week! You know what that means, right? Lots of walking around the office naked and watching 0prah and Spr!nger!!!

My Afternoon Job® gives me a health plan, but they don't have dental. So I have my own dental plan.

It's called "Don't Eat Too Much Candy"®.

Right now I'm watching "L0st W0rld: Jur@ssic P@rk."

Vince Vaughn runs like a girl.

So I went to the grocery store today. In my basket I got some soy milk, cookies, frozen pizza, and 2 pints of Ben & Jerry's Phish Phood ice cream. If my shopping basket could talk, it would scream "I'M SPENDING LABOR DAY ALONE!!"

I should have bought a watermelon. That way it would have looked like I at least was going on a picnic.

Today's Instant Message Conversation

Me: I'd go to a secluded island as long as there was access to Ben & Jerry's ice cream.
Me: Oh, and hot babes.
Mag: hahaha. no ben and jerry's in molokai, i'm sorry to say.
and no hot babes, either
Me: Well, that secluded island sucks.
Me: I would also need a supervillain lair.
Me: And a small army.
Mag: i think they have that tho
Mag: i *think*
Me: And escape space pod.
Me: And a good deli.
Me: OK, maybe not the escape pod.
Mag: ok, that sounds like fiji
Mag: you must be thinking of fiji
Me: Ah. Well, I'm off to Fiji, then.
Me: Fiji, Fiji, Fiji.
Me: Yup. sounds like my kind of secluded island.
Mag: good black and white cookies and pastrami in fiji
Me: Ah. but is it secluded?
Me: Like, could I run around in a loincloth and warpaint and not get strange looks?
Me: Cuz I'm thinking "Lord of the Flies" secluded.
Me: With a deli.
Mag: auckland, perhaps?
Me: New Zealand's too big.
Me: I want an island where I can pretend I'm the emperor.
Me: A loin cloth-wearing emperor.
Me: Who likes cake and ice cream.
Me: And good deli subs.
Mag: hmm...
Mag: kabasares island?
Mag: i think it's located in one hundred islands in the philippines
Mag: in pangasinan
Me; Oh. Really? I thought it was in the Visayas.
Me: I wonder why I didn't think of that one.
Mag: no ben and jerrys
Me: Right

I've CHANGED MY BLOG TEMPLATE, BUT...
Unfortunately, I think ALL of the past comments HAVE BEEN LOST. I AM SORRY. I AM VERY, VERY, SORRY! So, just repost a bunch of shit now, OK?

Sure, I'm flattered, but...

So I'm grocery shopping in S!lverlake last night. As I was walking back to my car, a gay couple was walking by, being frisky with each other, etc. As I passed them, one of them fell silent, tapped me on the shoulder and said "Oh, my God, you're hot." I gave him a smile, but kept walking.

I'm pretty secure with myself that I don't get all weird if a gay guy flirts with me. In fact, it's kinda flattering. But in exchange for my non-homophobia, I think my gay bretheren should help me out. If you are gay and think I'm hot, please tell five single, straight women. They'll listen to you. Straight women hang on gay men's every word. They won't believe it when I say so, but if you guys tell them, they'll be more apt to believe it.

I think that would be a fair trade.

I know this is extremely petty of me,
but I am glad knowing that my name, when googled, gets more pages of actual hits than when I google my ex-girlfriends' names.

Traveling-type shows

There are two really different travel shows on PBS that I see a lot. One is "Gl0betrekker," and the other is "R!ck Steve's Eur0pe." I would like to go on record that I would rather be a host on "Gl0betrekker" than be on Rick's show any day. "Gl0betrekker" kicks Rick's ass rather soundly. First of all, the "Globe" hosts are young, active, adventurous, and funny. I'd hang around them any day. Meanwhile, Rick's pansy ass is hanging out at bed and breakfast inns across Europe and pining for his wife. Pussy.

I've seen the "Gl0be" hosts climb the Andes, get pickpocketed, get drunk, eat bats, get a flat tire in the desert, get a bad case of food poisoning, attend a gay wedding, and eat kangaroo tail.

Rick sips tea on a cobblestone bridge overlooking swans while sewing a new button on his sweater.

Who would you rather hang out with?

I am sad today. But that's okay. I gots the right to be sad. So hooray for me!

Bored!

I'm alone at Morning Job®, and there's nothing to do. I just spent the last twenty minutes rearranging my Netfl!x queue. Well, now what? I'm here for another two frikken hours! I've done everything I could possibly do at my desk. Except clean it. I'm saving that for when the boss is around so I can look productive. Maybe I should just take off my pants. I mean, hell, I'm all alone, and I'm wearing clean underwear. That would put a little excitement in my day! And just think of the adreneline rush as I hear someone walking into the front door while I hastily re-pants myself. Wouldn't that be cool?

Yeah. I think I'm gonna take off my pants.

Trends, my aching body, and stupid self-help tricks

I don't consider myself a trendy person. In fact, I think I am a downward-trendy person. I pick up on trends when they stop being trendy. And it's unintentional. I shop at R0ss and shoe outlets for cheap stuff, and inadvertantly pick out things that were cool two or three years ago. I guess you can say I hop on the bandwagon when everyone else has bailed because it lost its brakes and is headed towards a brick wall covered in burning razor wire and acid. Oh, except for the ip0d. I'm all up in that shit like you won't belive.

Anyway, maybe this is showing my age, but last night a friend showed us dance moves from M!chael J@ckson's "Thr!ller" and "Be@t it!" videos. I enjoyed learning those moves. Not in a campy, mocking way, either. I REALLY ENJOYED LEARNING THEM. And I felt super cool, like "I'll kick your sorry ass if you think this ain't the shit." I was SOOOO into the moves.

So now my neck hurts. MJ does a lot of head jerks.

But anyways, so I was at a party tonight where there was a swimmin pool. So I swims around and hang out in the jacuzzi (relaxing the neck), when I had one of those moments where I'm surrounded by couples, and I'm the only single person in the immediate vicinity (jacuzzi), and I don't want to draw attention to my non couple-ness, because, I dunno, sometimes it feels weird to be the only single person in a group of couples ("LOOK AT THE FREAK!!!"). But I don't want to up and walk away, because everyone would look at the single guy walking away from all the couples and they'd just KNOW, you know? But I can't just sit there. But if I speak up and join a conversation, they'll think, "Oh, yeah, the single guy has a point there," and I don't want to be the single guy making a point, I'd rather be the happily coupled person making a point. So now I have to make a choice to either evaporate and re-solidify in another part of the house, or pee in the jaccuzzi and blame it on that guy over there, thus taking this overwhelming pressure off me. I'm not going to say what I did, but I'm going to lie and say that my exit was breathtaking.

Anyways, my point is this: if you are feeling less than up-to-par, look yourself in the mirror and say, "Damn, you are one sexy and amazing motherfucker."

That helps make things much better.

It won't take the pee out of the jaccuzzi, but trust me, it makes things better.

A trailer trash soap opera
by Kennedy

Mary: John, I want a divorce.
John: Why, Mary, why?
Mary: You've changed, John. You're not the cousin I married twenty years ago.

Blackout.
The end.

It's like being back in junior high school...
Answer these questions and post them in the comments section...

1. Who are you?
2. Are we friends?
3. When and how did we meet?
4. Do you have a crush on me?
5. Would you kiss me?
6. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it.
7. Describe me in one word.
8. What was your first impression?
9. Do you still think that way about me now?
10. What reminds you of me?
11. If you could give me anything what would it be?
12. How well do you know me?
13. When's the last time you saw me?
14. Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn't?
15. Are you going to put this on your blog and see what I say about you?

I've lived on Single Planet for a long time now. I didn't plan to. I just wanted a short visit. But for some reason I kept missing the rocket plane back to Couple Planet. And I can't seem to find my tickets anywhere. I'm sure they'll turn up soon. Oh, it's not that I don't like single planet. It's a nice, fun place. But I think it's time to move on. Besides, you can't find a decent deli around here.

Hello? Body? Hello?
So, I do static trapeze, I went jogging, and I took a hip-hop class. My body was fine. But the other day I pulled my back muscles doing what? Oh, bending over to pick up my shoes.

WHAT'S UP WITH THAT?

It has come to this...
I am at the Morning Job®. I have been here for three hours, doing practically nothing.

I am so bored, I think I'm actually going to e-mail myself.

Anyone?(part 2)
Sometimes when I'm in my apartment, I talk to myself out loud, but in a very thick accent. Sometimes it's Cockney, sometimes Russian, Scottish, or Pilipino. Sometimes it's a generic southern accent. Anyone else do this? Anyone? Hello?

Anyone?
Sometimes, when I'm all alone in my apartment, I turn on the music and just dance. Like a madman. For, like half an hour. Anyone else do this? Anyone? Hello?

I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU SAY, I'M STILL COOL
It's Saturday night. I'm an eligible bachelor living in Los Angeles. Guess what I'm doing? I'm alone in my apartment watching "R0bocop 2" in Spanish.

Yes, you heard me right, in SPANISH.

I don't care. I'm still cool.

Up yours.

You know what's sexy? Women with flamethrowers. That's fuckin sexy.

PON FARR, EVERYBODY!!! PON FARR!!!

My tummy has been acting weird whenever I eat large batches of meat. Maybe it's because I don't eat in big batches throught the day. I usually eat many small batches. Anyhoo, my tummy feels weird.

P.S.
I got a cool haircut. Even though I think I look like a bottle brush.

You know, I get bored too, but never to this extreme!

You know what rocks right now? You know what rocks like a motherfucker? Yahoo mail expanded its mailbox to 100MB! For free! C'mon, I dare you to tell me what rocks more than that right now! I double dare you! Just try! You can't, can you!

I cannot possibly eat any more food this week. I just can't.

So, what's your collection?
Yeah, people collect things. I don't know why. Where the hell does it come from? Maybe it goes back to our hunter/gatherer days, when we'd hoard nuts and berries and crap like that. And we still have it in our genes, so we gotta do it.

When we're kids, it starts out small, like dolls, comics, toys (I still find myself buying stupid little toys once in a while, just cuz they're so darn neat). As we get older, the collections become bigger too, like cars, houses, boats, statues, and paintings. I would probably collect photographs or motorcycles, if I wasn't so darn strapped for cash. Motorcycles get me going like no one's business.

But for many, our collections have to do with accessories. Some people (both men and women) buy all kinds of shoes. Not me. I buy a couple of shoes I like and I rotate the hell out of them.

But I do have two accessory fetishes. I love backpacks/man purses. I don't know why. I can only use one at a time, but heck, show me a cool backpack and I can drool. I like the idea that I've got everything I need in my handy satchel, like Felix the Cat and his bag of tricks. A utility belt, of sorts, but not as goofy looking. As long as I don't look like a tourist, I can hang with a nice backpack.

Also, I love watches. The weird thing, though, is that I don't like wearing watches. I usually end up banging it on the car door, or against the wall, or something. And I get that weird watch tan which I think looks gross. I usually end up hanging a watch off my belt loop or aforementioned backpack/man purse.

I love stylish or practical watches. If they're both stylish and practical, that makes it even better. I have a sports watch that has a digital compass, thermometer/barometer, and altimiter. The thermometer is cool, but doesn't take into account your skin temperature, so you have to take it off to get an accurate measurement. And who the hell uses a barometer unless you're the weather guy? But it looks reasonably cool. I like it.

One purchase need I am embarassed to admit is condoms. Oh, I'm not embarassed about buying them. It's just that I buy them for fun, just to have. I like condoms. I mean, I like using them (if I ever get the chance to), but I'll buy them just because, you know? Not the regular ones, but neat sounding ones. Ones that have really seductive descriptions. Durex and Trojan have the coolest names and descriptions. Sometimes I just buy them because of the way they're described. I'll buy a box just cuz it sounds so good. Maybe having a collection gives me the illusion of having an active sex life. But that's another story.

So, check this out. Monday was my birthday. The Morning Job® took me out to the Standard for a lunch (steak sandwich! Yay!). Then chocolate cake at Afternoon Job®. Then off to Palms Thai for tons of Thai food. Yesterday I ate the other half of my steak sandwich. I was so full from the last two days that I COULDN'T EAT THE TONS OF BARBECUE THAT CAME TO THE OFFICE LAST NIGHT!!! How can people eat like that?!? I don't get it!

I hope they saved some barbecue for me. =(

The human body is an incredible machine, ain't it? For example, scent is an incredible memory trigger. This morning at the Morning Job® I went to the restroom and washed my hands. The scent of the liquid soap brought back memories of childhood, especially grade school. Immediately images of green sweaters, school uniforms, new textbooks, classrooms, school desks and foggy mornings overwhelmed me, all in a matter of seconds.

Awesome, ain't it?

I had no emails this morning. That makes me sad.

Prince is one brilliant motherfucker. How does all that talent, energy, and musical brilliance fit into such a small person?

Fucking brilliant, man.

Guess what?
I get to go to the Prince concert tonight. That kicks all available asses in the immediate vicinity.

I'll let you know how it goes. It will probably be awesome.

Who am I kidding. It WILL be awesome.

By the way, the full moon is making me act sleep-walky. And I'm pretty gassy right now. But I don't think that has to do with the moon. It may have to do with the variety of snacks I had today. I'm not sure.

But enough about my gas. Did I mention I'm going to the Prince concert?

FORGIVE ME IF I'M A LITTLE GIDDY...
So I'm at this really cool Hollywood music venue. The promoter is at the door and says "Do you know K? She's inside and she's by herself."

Now, I don't really know her, but we have sort of seen each other at different places. She's a really sweet actress/model, and I"m thinking, "Cool, I'll keep her company." I've always thought she was unbeliveably pretty, also. So that's a plus. She was wearing an olive t-shirt with a hot-rod design on it, jeans, cowboy boots, studded belt. Wow.

But we seem to have hit it off. We hung out all night together. I cracked a few corny jokes. She bought a drink and we shared it. Wow.

So at the end of the night I walk her to her car and I ask for her phone number. Wait, let me repeat that...I ASKED HER FOR HER PHONE NUMBER. For those of you who know me, you all know what a fearful chore that is for me. But I asked her. We had such a good time, so why not, right? But I told her "Only if it's appropriate." You know, to give her an easy way out if she had to.

But she gave it to me. She gave me her number. And now I am smitten. And if she has a boyfriend, I'm going to jump of a fucking bridge.

Wow.

THIS MUSIC ROCKS MY WORLD
So I'm at a popular independent CD store in Los Angeles, buying the soundtrack to the broadway show "Dreamgirls" (SHUT UP! IT'S FOR RESEARCH! I DON'T REALLY CARE FOR MUSICALS! SHUT UP!). So I'm in line, and there's punk rock music on the in-house speakers, and I think "I should get that X album."

Yes, X. The legendary L.A. punk band from the 80's, X.

I wanted to get one because 1) I always wanted an X album, and 2) I didn't want to look like a girl buying an album of showtunes.

So I'm looking around, but they don't have the album I want, so I have to fall back in line with my Broadway musical and feel like a wuss. I go to another independent CD store (this time a small California chain named after a single cell creature), and I find it. X's "See How We Are."

I drive home, giddy as a schoolgirl (because of the X album, not the "Dreamgirls" album, so SHUT UP). I pop in the X CD and listen to the whole thing from beginning to end, reading all the liner notes, even listening to the bonus tracks.

X ROCKS THE FREE WORLD AND EVEN SOME DICTATORSHIPS. Their sound is a combination of punk, rockabilly, and American folk music. How did they do it? For a hard rocking band, their lyrics are so poetic and socially conscious. They express not just anger, but despair and longing. John Doe and Exene Cervenka's vocals are too much. They are angry, heartbroken, full of the stuff of life.

Before them, I could not imagine that punk rock could sound so achingly pretty.

Women wearing ties. Yes. Women wearing a collared shirt and a tie. Women wearing a suit and tie. Oh, yes.

Pon Farr.

It's BAAACK!

The pon farr is back. And it's driving me crazy. And it just started.


Lock your doors.

HOW MUCH DO I LOVE YOU?
I'd eat a monkey for you. That's how much.

Let's hope it never gets that drastic, though.

I know I'm getting old because my farts are sounding more and more like my dad's farts.

A Busy Kennedy is a Tired Kennedy, but Better than a Bored Kennedy

In the past 9 days:
3 shows
1 guest lecture at a college
1 dress rehearsal for top secret project
1 producer's presentation for top secret project (which made me bitter, but I'm working on it)
3 auditions
1 callback
5 hours sleep each night (average)
4 billion emails (3 billion spam)

And this is the slow week.

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!
Helleeewww...here is a quick Kennedy update for youz!

First of all, I like Sundays. In the last couple of months, it has become my "do nothing" day. I wake up at around noon. But I don't get out of bed. I just lie there and stare at the ceiling and think about silly shit for about an hour. Then I get up and drink some water, see what's on TV, then go back to bed and take a nap. Yes. It's my "lazy motherfucker" day. I don't do NUTHIN! And I LIKE IT! God rested on the seventh day. So if God can take all day to rest, so can I! Take it up with God, for it is the Lord who is setting the example for me. And no matter how lazy and slothful I may seem, I don't think I can beat God's laziness. And I can be a lazy fuck. So what I'm saying is that I'm not lazy, I'm just trying to emulate God.

Speaking of God, it's Easter Bunny Sunday. Yes, this is the day Jesus popped out of his tomb and scared the shit out of his friends. Well, he was supposed to be dead, right? I mean, if I saw someone get killed and I saw him the next day, I'd piss my pants right there.

And when he came out of the grave, he had a bunny tucked under one arm and a basket of chocolates in the other.

So far, there is a tie for the Kennedy Quiz. Right now Alfie and Fwacy are tied. You may read their answers. Do you think you can do better than them? I don't know. They had pretty good answers.

It's official. My apartment is a total fucking mess. Yes. It is the worst it has ever been ever since I moved in. It's almost as bad as my college dorm. It's like a homeless person came in and his shoppping cart exploded. It's that fucking bad. What's worse is that I don't see myself cleaning up any time in the near future, since I don't have a girlfriend to bring over. Which means I'd better get one really soon or I won't be able to open my front door.

And finally...I am watching the movie "Brazil" dubbed in Spanish. It's on one of the spanish language channels (duh). It's cool because I know that movie really well, so it's easy to follow. It's almost as fun as watching R*n P*piel's rotisserie oven infomercial in Spanish. Now THAT's a hoot.

MY CRAZY BUILDING
My apartment building is occupied mostly by senior citizens. So it's rather quiet. They wake up early, eat dinner early, and go to bed early. They don't play loud music or have loud parties.

BUT, there is one dude who lives in the corner apartment, down the hall from me, who once in a while, late at night, screams jibberish out his window. I don't know if he's drunk or high, or maybe he forgot his medication, but he sounds positively insane. And it's scary when you hear it at around midnight. The police have come by once in a while to tell him to shut up. I guess if I were braver, I would knock on his door and ask him oh so politely to keep it down, but who knows? He may come at me with an ice pick and try to de-brain me.

I've seen this guy in the hallway, or coming into the building, and he seems like a normal guy. He's in his forties, he rides a bike, he smiles and says "hi." I don't know, it's kind of creepy, isn't it?

So today, I'm in the local market buying snackage (cuz I eat like a bird), and I hear "How are you doing?" And I look up, and it's him, smiling, and I say "Hey, I'm doing great!" and I keep shopping.

And in the back of my head I'm thinking "Hey, I'm the dude who called the cops on you that night."

Then there's my next door neighbor. He's kinda old. He's got this white mustache that's kinda waxed on the ends, so he looks like a barbershop quartet singer. Except that once in a blue moon, he'll come home late at night (like at 1am, and I'm still awake), and he's drunk and yelling at no one in particular. But boy, is he mad. He'll just talk real loud and swear. "Those motherfuckers!" and "God dammit!" Over and over again, slamming drawers and shit. I guess if I was braver, I would knock at his door and oh so politely ask him to keep it down, but shit, he's drunk. I mean, he may be old, but he may have a gun, right?

I guess I could do that, though. I mean, him being old and drunk, I think I could out-maneuver him. You know, duck and slip, put him in a figure four leg lock? You know?

QUIZ RESULTS
So far, Alfie E. is winning the pop quiz for the readers, mostly by default. You gonna let her win?

A QUIZ FOR ALL OF YOUZ
OK, I need help from you, yes, YOU. You, the person reading this. Yes, you, not the creepy guy lurking behind you, but YOU.

If you can answer these questions (which have been bothering me for the last few days) I will give you a prize. Now, don't get too excited. You know my income, so you won't be getting a yacht or anything. But I'll give prizes to the person with the most creative and/or sensible answers. Ready? OK. Here ya go...

1) I am a pretty smart fellow. So how come I am strangely drawn to watch "COPS" and "CHEATERS"? Huh? Tell me that!

2) Am I too old to run away with the circus (not as a clown, but as a kick-ass trapeze artist)?

3) Why am I not in Italy right now?

4) How can I get rid of this lower back pain without the use of drugs?

5) Why does V*n De*sel have a career?

6) Why did I almost cry at the "Southpark" movie?

Again, the person with the most creative and/or sensible answers wins a prize. Not a great big prize, mind you, but heck, it's a prize from me. And isn't that a good thing?

Damn
Hot weather.
Women.
Hell yeah.

Oh, my god. I have gotten nothing but junk email all weekend. Even today, I haven't gotten one personal email. IT'S UP TO YOU TO STOP THIS!!!

Women who are married or have boyfriends are usually the ones who approach me more often and are most attentive to me.

That's so confusing.

THIS SITE is f****ng brilliant. It makes the little geek boy inside of me jump up and down like...like...like a little geek boy (look, I'm not good with similies all the time).

We are just a few steps away from either the Transformers or the Terminator.

Things I have learned today
1) Shamrock Shakes® rock the free world and parts of Cuba.
2) The first lady of Honduras is HOT.
3) So is the wife of the Prime Minister of Spain.

Oh, yes, and terrorism is bad.

I saw that Jesus movie this weekend. Judging by the ending, they're TOTALLY going to make a sequel.

Karma pays off in the coolest ways or Do good things if you want good things to happen to you
So I drove to my Morning Job® because my bus was late (of course I saw it pull up as I drove away). Aaaany-hoo, so I parked at a meter and shoved all these coins in it, and thought to myself, "remember to come back in two hours and feed the meter."

So naturally, I forget I even own a car.

And I go about work, doing Morning Job® type activities, all the while singing "la la la" in my head like a little girl.

As I leave to go to my Afternoon Job®, I think to myself "time to get change for the bus." So I reach into my pocket and feel (gasp!) CAR KEYS! Shit! I forgot to feed the meter! Shit! I'm a dork! Shit! I pretty much worked four hours to pay for a parking ticket! Shit, shit shit!

So I walks to my car (yeah, I said walks), because really, running ain't going to make the ticket less expensive, if you knows what I mean. So I'm walking, expecting to see a big paper flag of dorkdom flapping on my windshield wiper.

But, alas, lo and behold, NO TICKET. AND, to my surprise, there were 50 minutes left on my meter! My only guess is that someone, some stranger, some lovely, beautiful stranger with a heart bigger than Jupiter decided to put a quarter or two in my meter!

And I am reminded of the couple of times in the past where I have seen expired meters and decided to drop a quarter or two to help a brother (or sister) out. IT ALL COMES BACK TO YOU! Bless you, oh, bless you stranger!

Either they were very kind, or they were just dumb and put money in my meter by mistake.

But still...KARMA!!!

And, to top it off, there were TWO dogs waiting to play at the Afternoon Job®.

Busy yet unproductive. Yeah, that sounds like an oxymoron, don't it? But that's kinda how I'm feeling. Like an oxymoron. Like an oxygen-filled moron. Like a procrastinating, running around, oxygen-filled moron with a layer of chocolate, who needs a haircut.

My Inner Rock Star
I was just playing air-guitar in the mirror to a U2 song and I don't care who knows.

Just don't tell anyone else, OK?

OK, first of all, my back is starting to feel odd. I hope it doesn't become a Big Thing, which it tends to do once in a while. A wierd sciatic thing. I don't want that to happen. It usually happens when I'm doing a lot of stuff, or, more specifically, A Lot Of Stuff That Could Become Stressful. I don't know which is worse, sciatica, or a stye on the eyelid. Well, if I had my choice, I'd go for the sciatica. Cuz you can hide that.

"What kind of stuff are you doing," I hear you ask. Well, there's always the z3 stuff. Which is not really stressful. But it is a total commitment, so I gotta work things around that.

I also have my trapeze class. Which would suck if my back pain started to get worse, cuz I'm learning a lot right now. But that's not bad.

There is this Semi-Secret Project I'm working on, which does take up a lot of my time. After talking it over with z3, I've learned it's not really a hard job, it's just that it's a big project, so I have to think about it a lot. And thinking takes energy. And I do a lot of thinking on my own, so this just makes it harder. And sometimes I'd just rather take a nap.

And really, who doesn't like naps?

Recently, all my choices always end with "...or I could just take a nap." Let me just say that I have never regretted taking a nap. Taking a nap is always a good choice.

Unless you are driving. You should pull over first.

I'm not that complicated. I'm a simple guy. Real simple. Like an anvil. Or bacteria.

I'm not ashamed to say it.

I need a girlfriend.

There, I said it.

Bastards.

We're all hypocrites, arent' we?
I usually rant about the state of TV, saying that 90 percent of all of TV is crap. And it is. But last night I had the time of my life watching "The Surreal Life" marathon. I ENJOYED IT. There, I said it.

I still think 90 percent of TV is crap.

I'm afraid to think out loud, because there would be unbearably long moments of silence.

My Mars Theory
I think a Martian snuck up behind the Spirit rover and pulled out the plug.

That's what I think.

I Take It Back
I take back what I said about Liz Phair. I just listened to some songs from her new album. She is still cool. And still foul-mouthed. And I like that.

I bet her "kisses are as wicked as an F-16."

Damn, she rocks.

Double standard
So when a couple gets married, if the woman chooses to not work full time and stay at home, she could be called a "home maker" or "housewife" and no one cares.

But if the man chooses not to work full time and stay at home, he is called "that bum you married."

I got to ride a Harley around Maui yesterday and the day before. So y'all can kiss my ass.

THE TRIP SO FAR PART II

First of all, IT FINALLY STOPPED RAINING!!! YAY!!! Hot. Got to see the sun. And a few whales. And went to a luau. Then I got to see myself on TV.

Two things I have learned so far:
1) I don't really like poi.
2) I REALLY like scantily clad women.

MAUI - THE TRIP SO FAR
After being picked up by M at 6am, I'm dropped off at the United terminal of LAX. I go through three lines (one for check-in, two for security) that takes me about 40 minutes to get through. I finally make it to the plane. Surprisingly, it's not very crowded (about 65% by my estimate). I get my own row!

So, here's my question - WHAT HAPPENED TO ALL THE FINE FLIGHT ATTENDANTS? When did they all get replaced by old diner waitresses with bad hair? I was not turned on by any of them. Gimme something to look at other than the in-flight movie!

So I land in Maui. And it's raining. And not just rain. It's like monsoon rain. Rain like no one here has seen in years. Like flooding the streets rain. Like build an ark rain.

My cousin's wife meets me at the baggage claim. She tells me I"m not staying at their house. I think "uh-oh." Then she tells me her aunt went to visit relatives in California, and I"m going to be staying at the empty apartment. She has digital cable!

It's still raining, but I don't care. I'm in Maui, motherfuckers!