I figured I might as well jump on this whole blogging bandwagon, stay in touch with the ever evolving social mediums that dictate the rotation of the earth. I dont really have alot to say, but in the name of mindless entertainment, im going to say something for the sake of you being bored at your desk, or on your couch,,, and use as many commas as possible. This way, I can type and try to sound (read) as though im actually talking to you, the way people used to communicate when self confidence, modesty and personality still existed. Im going to really try and keep up with this because, Im finding, as with dreams and the rolling blackout that is my nightlife, my memories and escapades escape my memory faster than...(insert witty analogy here).
There really is no better way to toot (gay word) my own horn AND seem insightful. Im going to go ahead and give you a breakdown of my day, because, as twitter has demonstrated, people DO give a shit about the not so awesome things everyone else is doing.
Every Morning my alarm goes off at 10:02 and then 10:25. At 10:02 I turn on my tv and catch a solid 20 minutes of Anthony Bourdane's travel/booze/food/awesome show. I really like that guy, he's kind of a dick, kind of insightful, has a way with words that i envy, and he loves booze and good food as much as I do. The 10:25 alarm is most important because of a morning obligations I must fulfill that I cannot mention AND this is the time when I weigh the pros and cons of suicide. I always choose suicide and commit it the most painful way possible, by going to work. I have this crazy immortality that is identical to Bill Murry's immortality in groundhog day (fun fact: I once ended a relationship with a girl bc she had not seen that movie, or even heard of it). Anyways, after waking up tired and unfulfilled, as yet another dream about 2001 Britney Spears or the current Megan Fox is realized as just that, a dream, I hit the shower. My morning shower is one of my daily highlights primarily due to this really awesome window i have on my shower wall. Its pretty damn big and opens up to an awesome view of sunset blvd. When opened, it creates this really awesome contrast between the cool morning breeze and my hot shower water. I get 99% of my daily thinking done in this brilliant limbo. I also give anyone traveling north on Sweetzer av a great view of me naked flossing my teeth. However, this picture-esque ritual is often interrupted with moments of awkwardness that suck me out of my cool air hot water slam dance. For some reason, more times than not, tourists or mexicans (its always one or the other) find our street as the perfect place to make a U-turn. What they dont know is that after making their blind turn, our street is narrow and awkward, so turning around means pulling into our driveway and making a 3 point turn. My shower window overlooks my driveway and is directly over our front door. Im beyond visible. Thus, a great staring contest unfolds. I always try to maintain eye contact with them to make their innocent mistake as uncomfortable as possible. I used to close my window to shy away from the uncomfortable situation THEY put ME in, but I have begun to embrace it to teach them a lesson. I now leave my window open and stop whatever im doing in the shower and just stare at them. They see me before they even pull in the driveway so they are already flustered being semi lost and i top it off by being the hungover naked guy staring at them. Its great watching them scurry to switch from reverse to drive. This happens a good 20 times throughout the day, on Saturdays it spikes to 50. Dane Cook articulates my point flawlessly here. Following the most peaceful showering experience one could ask for (provided nobody turns around in my driveway that morning) the worst most frustrating traffic experience immediately follows.
I leave my house optimistic and ready for a new day of forgetting simple tasks and youtube, and stumble into the clusterfuck that is Beverly Hills traffic. Imagine 5000 old Jewish men and 5000 Ukrainian or Persian women in Lexuses, big body Mercedes and DB9 Aston Martins doing doughnuts in a rhinoplasty waiting room...on fire. People are switching lanes with no signals, paralell parking without warning, car doors opening from other parallel parked cars, horns, anger, narrow streets and chaos flying at you from all directions. Sprinkle a smart car or two in there for gayness and accuracy. The best part is you can see all of these idiot mistakes coming from a mile away. The dumb bitch on her cell phone looking in all directions except ahead of her cant wait to get on Rodeo to blow her latest husbands paycheck, natuarally she has better things to do than pay attention and not almost kill me. She's out there, always.
Provided I dont get killed, i then stumble into work around 11:10. Get coffee by 11:45. Flirt with the receptionist for a good 2 minutes, then go on about my day. I work as an assistant editor at No Good Television. My job is fucking awesome. We have an open bar that gets alot of use, hip hop blaring all day, the most relaxed dress code you could ever want (the only rule of dress is no "exposed man toes" for guys. Thats seriously it. ) dirty jokes and swearing at the top of your lungs are encouraged. We have an awesome building that used to be a bank, now turned booze friendly, fur covered walls, Xbox and arcade game work-zone. I dont care what you do, how much money you make, or who you are, my office is alot better and more awesome than yours. We even have a "white trash" refrigerator. It is slammed with every cheap beer and 40 imaginable. Its taller than me, and way cooler as well (punn intended). I get off of work anywhere between 8:30pm-2am. I try to find somewhere thats still open for dinner, go home, play the drums for 20 minutes, pop two melatonin then hit the hay. I used to go out and party as many nights of the week as possible, but it eventually took a back seat to sleeping once I started working 80 hour weeks including weekends. Oh well, cant win em all.
I wake up the next day and do it all over again. I wish there were more girls mixed into that whole equation, but contrary to popular belief, there really aren't. Im not dating anyone. I dont know if its a personality flaw or what, but whenever I am dating someone, girls always assume and articulate that they think im a huge player with a million girls in my back pocket. This is totally false, primarily because I have A) no time for a social life B) no real game or C) no penis. "C" being the primary reason. It fell off in a freak blender fight back in 76. Either way, they are wrong. Probably every girl Ive dated since college has voiced that feeling. I wish they were right.
Ok, im over typing this horse shit. If anyone is still reading by now, congrats, you just made it through that pointless pile of horse shit. Suscribe to this blog and we can make this a regular, one way thing. Ill ramble about nothing, and if youre that bored, you can take a look inside of my odd life. Ill try to post something new every few days. At least twice a week something really ridiculous happens that I wish I had written down and didnt. Consider this my journal.
Until next time
-Sarah-
Shit. I meant...
-Matt-
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