I am living a computer Soap Opera right now.
Shouldn't be many posts until the middle of the week.
Do your best to carry on without me.

Eggs and french fries for dinner!

Wait...Ozzie Smith's son is on American Idol???
What the hell???
???

A dream I might’ve had if I could fall asleep:
I went to the doctor’s.
They took some blood and ran some tests.
Turns out I have a passion deficiency.
After the doctor gave me the news I asked, “what can I do?”
She said, “son, you need more Coltrane in your diet.”
She danced off down the hall and left me sitting in stunned silence.
Lou Reed’s voice came from somewhere in the distance.
“It ain’t nothing at all. It ain’t nothing at all.”

Party trick

Lets all eat a boiled egg and celebrate Bobby Fischer’s birthday.
Happy birthday, you nut.

Don’t you think little Jimmy Mattressprincess and little Bobby Spermherder get enough grief at school already? What’s going to happen when all their friends are getting personalized NFL jerseys and they can’t. Please, think of the children.

Tim Rice should get to work on a sequel to Chess where Freddie's insane and in a foreign prison and he's all anti-semitic so you hate him again, but then he sings a song about how they wouldn't give him another egg (the song could be called Pity the Guy Who Wants Another Egg but They Won’t Give Him Another Egg) and suddenly you really feel for the guy. You know? You know? Then he breaks out of prison and escapes in a rocket to the moon where he plays a life or death game of chess against a giant, singing chess robot that was created by a clone of Florence's father. This is fucking golden.

The first draft is a bitch.

From the great Scott Mccloud:

03/05: I have a nine year-old daughter who dances around the house singing "Blister in the Sun" and an eleven year-old daughter who, when asked for hobbies by her D.A.R.E. councillor (a Bush supporter who muttered a few things about Michael Moore in class -- hardly on topic, Buddy) responded that she liked to talk about "random things", and when asked for examples, mentioned "pointless elevation" leading to the following exchange:

Mr. D.A.R.E.: What do you mean by "pointless elevation?"

My 11-year old: You know like chairs. They don't need to be elevated.

Mr. D.A.R.E.: Ah, but if they weren't, how would we reach our desks?

My 11-year old: Well, the desks don't have to be elevated either.

Mr. D.A.R.E.: What about the dinner table?

My 11-year old: Well, in my hypothetical universe, we'd all eat on the floor. You know, like the Japanese do.

Mr. D.A.R.E.: But what about...? [etc]

It finally ended with D.A.R.E. guy saying "You're good." and moving on to intellects more in his range.

After the D.A.R.E. graduation ceremony, at which my girl politely mouthed the words to "God Bless the USA" -- 'cause the classes put it to a vote and all, though she didn't mouth the "God" part -- I took her aside and made sure she did know that drugs were a colossally bad idea, despite the sub-standard reasoning skills presented by her supposedly all-knowing superiors.

Her response, in a nutshell: "Well, Duh."

Today is 03-04-05. Well, in the United States, anyway.
Those of you in Europe can celebrate this magical day next month.
I like numbers.

• Today I recorded three Patsy Cline songs with my sister. She sang and I played guitar. I haven’t been playing much lately and there were no calluses on my fingers. My fingers were hurting like crazy. We got through it and the songs sound pretty good. We ended up having to have this crazy hook up to get the recordings off her Mini-disc player and onto my computer. There was an old record player involved. It was nuts.
  
  
• I’m not really sick anymore but I don’t think this cough is going away anytime soon. Nothing like a good lingering illness, right? The worst part about when I was really sick was that I couldn’t listen to music without my head hurting. I listen to too much music. I know I should turn the music off and work in silence more often. I think better in silence. But, you see, I’ve got this system worked out in iTunes and I like watching the songs move in and out of their different playlists. Yeah, I’m a dork. I’ve got all my songs rated. I have my five star songs go out of circulation for a week. Four star songs for a month. Three star for three months. Two star for six months, and one star go into the One Star Purgatory playlist and don’t get played. All the five, four, three, and two star playlists feed into a bigger one along with a playlist of songs that have never been played or have only been played once. Unrated songs get fed in too. I switch between listening to the big playlist (named 0-1-2-3-4-5), a playlist of both the four star and five star songs (named PARTY!), and just individual star lists (sometimes I feel like listening to four star songs). It all makes for a pretty good mix of music. I get to hear the songs I like the most more often, but at the same time enough three and two star songs come through to make it interesting. Of course, I spend a lot of time listening to whatever three or four albums I’m really into at the moment (currently Nash Kato’s Debutante, Joan Osborne’s Relish, and a live recording of a Local H show from new years eve) or the individual songs I'm really into (currently Do the Vampire by Superdrag, Pensacola by Joan Osborne, and Debutante by Nash Kato). Wait, what were we talking about?
  
  
• This month we get the Incredibles on dvd and Flight Volume Two. Pretty sweet.
  
  
• We are plotting world domination through screenplay writing. If only we would finish a screenplay.
  
  
• Remember when 11:00 pm was really late at night?
  
  

I just overcame this major hurdle and finally banged out a nearly complete outline for my screenplay (Yes, I’m writing a screenplay. Shut up.). There was this part at the beginning that I couldn't figure out but yesterday my mother and I were stuck behind this school bus as it was dropping off kids and everything came together (the first scene is a school bus dropping off kids). I realized that I needed to have the kid who is the main character get dropped off the next day too. Just about everything fell into place after that. It's freaky. I know I have to tighten up the ending and there are still a couple things I have to figure out exactly where they go, but for the most part it's there. Now that the hard part is over I can get on with the hard part of actually writing it. I've been trying to figure this story out for years (Yes, I’m really slow. Shut up.). It feels really weird to have it all right here in front of me. I should make a back up copy. I should print it out. I should definitely print it out. And, no, there won't be any poop jokes in it.

The most important thing you have to ask yourself as you're writing your screenplay is 'does it need more poop jokes?', but in the end it's all about the structure. Always remember:
1. Setup.
2. Poop jokes.
3. Climax.
4. Dénouement.
Go get 'em, kids!

I'm really disappointed that I didn't get to see Prince Rogers Nelson give an Oscar to Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber.
Anyway, congratulations to all the winners.