It rained today, the book I ordered came in, the hot(ter?) twin agreed to go on a “date” date with me, Zero Theorem comes out tomorrow, I had a great idea for a Pynchonian western called “Punishment, Texas”, and my playlist is coming up all Motown, so, in this moment, life is good.
So, I’d been feeling really run down, more than normal, and I’d been drinking a bit less so it didn’t make sense. Naturally I assumed I had insomnia cancer or something, and finally caved and went to the doctor. After a brief inspection of all the working pieces and a few questions, it turns out I’ve been dehydrated for years.
Apparently, and I know this sounds crazy, but you’re supposed to drink water, just plain water, every day. Not just a steady diet of coffee, alcohol, and mexican sodas. Just straight up boring-ass water.
…YEAH WELL SHUT UP MAN I ONLY DRINK WATER WHEN I’M HUNGOVER LEAVE ME ALONE
Why do you think you have trouble with relationships?
Because I’m a god damn human being and life is difficult and you’re trapped in your own head all of the time and when you try to let yourself out of that trap at other people they’re like “whoa, buddy, I just decorated my cage, and you’re getting your shit all over mine” and then things are confusing and horrible and sometimes they’re nice and then suddenly you die.
Number 1 is Django Unchained, which I simply enjoy more than all his other movies. 2 is True Romance, 3 is Jackie Brown, 4 is Kill Bill Part 2, and 5 is probably Reservoir Dogs. I enjoy how Tarantino is obsessed with making movies that he’d enjoy. When I was younger, it used to grate on me, but now I’m like, fuck it, let the goofy bastard make his arthouse grindhouse goofball movies.
I wish Roger Avery (one of his pals, also the guy who apparently wrote the best lines in Pulp Fiction) would make more movies, though. “The Rules Of Attraction” and “Killing Zoe” were great.
Why do you hate Godard so much? This isn't the first time you've mentioned hating him.
I’m one of those crazy people who doesn’t like boring movies about nothing where nothing happens. I mean, at least Wim Wenders movies have a point. At least “Rubber” was so god damn weird it was enjoyable. At least “The Unbelievable Truth” was about something. Every time someone talks about how “visionary” Contempt was I want to smack them in the face and sit them down for some Fellini. Italian New Wave cinema is infinitely better than French New Wave, anyway. Structurally, stylistically and most importantly they’re not speaking surrender monkey barf-talk aka French.
I’m watching Kill Bill Part I and the two things I’ve noticed are Uma Thurman has amazing, radiant eyes (they remind me of this certain tall gal I know), and holy shit like seven fucking songs play during the Crazy 88 fight scene.
Help old flame move all her stuff out of her giant berkeley loft into a moving box (she’s going to go work for NPR, good on her), get all sweaty and overheated in the unbearable fucking east bay heat, have a fun ol’ time in the shower, get a sandwich and some gin, and god damn, it ain’t even five o’clock. The fuck am I supposed to do with the rest of my day? I work too damned early tomorrow to do much. I guess it’s time to catch up on my reading.
I was all depressed the new season of Doctor Who is horseshit (I love Peter Capaldi but god they’re not letting him do anything) and then I watched “Listen” and holy fuck since when can Moffat make an episode like that anymore.
Every once in awhile I remind myself I’m just a con man who talks a good game and this will, someday, presumably, disintegrate around me. Murder (and theoretically egregious misrepresentation) will out, after all.
I mean, I don’t have a date, but I’m ambitious and life is short and some day all our art will be ash on a dead planet in a decaying gravity well of nothingness, and perhaps that’s how some unthinkable titanic creature makes art, with dead planets of idealistic pussyhounds.
Clients:[describing useless shit no one would ever need on a luxury tour]
Me:If I wanted to sit around listening to people ask for what they can't have when they already have everything, I'd live on the upper east side.
Me:But I'm in California.
Me:Fellas, it's Sunday. I just wanna get out of here, go out for a drink with a pretty girl, maybe feel on some butt or get my dick sucked, whatever. But let's not stay here all day while you get all "Deuces Wild" at me.
Me:How much do you want to spend, and what can we give you?
Representative:Well, we've got a cap on in-city expenses...but.
I wish I could go back in time to 15 year old me and hand him ten grand and be like “listen, man — it’s all bullshit in the end. most of these people will never find themselves, or be anything, or crawl out of the pit of having a family too soon, they’ll end up in tiny perimeter towns because they can’t afford a place anywhere real, and their whole lives are going to be this slow downhill crawl into nothing, and you’re going to be a tall rich white man wearing really great suits. I mean, life is still wall-to-wall shit, and happiness turns out to be just one big let-down, and nothing ever actually works, but you have great friends and life is interesting enough to see how the next act goes, so…stop stressing out about Geometry 2.”
“America is the original version of modernity. We are the dubbed or subtitled version. America ducks the question of origins; it cultivates no origin or mythical authenticity; it has no past and no founding truth. Having known no primitive accumulation of time, it lives in a perpetual present.”—Jean Baudrillard, "America"
Every so often I go on the craigslist job map and look at my neighborhood and in my neighbor there are a hundred and seventy five start-up jobs, four dishwashing gigs, three server gigs, and one auto mechanic position from three weeks back. I mean, I do have an auto mechanic shirt with my name on it, even though I haven’t driven a car in around eleven years.
My adjacent roommate has a real talent for bringing home women with truly terrible, squeaky, marina-girl-by-way-of-the-valley voices at 3 am. Then again, he’s been a bartender at a super clubby mission bar so long his hearing is probably mush.