SO I just finished the tennis match of the century. Norris and I destroyed each other for a little over two hours of brutal game-play. It was truely the greatest match since Jimmy Connors toed up against Micheal Chang. Norris the "Star City Serpent" came into the match really tossing some heat across that net, but I must say I, the "Tennis Machine" came through victorious through a number of power serves and skill savvy manuvers.
In other news, I quit my job at Barnes and Noble (I put in my two weeks rather) so I'll be finished with that noise fairly soon. Hopefully my life will come back to being amazing after that point. Just this week has been wonderful since I have started writing and staying out a little later each night. I must confess, I don't care for LA during the day, but at night LA is one of the greatest places on earth. Sure its 80% more dangerous, but it seems like the whole fast-paced aspect of this town melts away, and its back to life. I've started exploring town lately after dark, and I must say it's terribly exciting.
Going off of that, Kuhns and I went down to Santa Monica today. For those of you without a map, Santa Monica is in LA (over the Mts-not in the Valley where I live) so its always exciting to actually go into the 'real' LA. When Kuhns and I hit Ocean Drive looking for the art supply store, we decided to roll the windows down to get a feel for the sea breeze. Sure enough, by the coast the weather is always AMAZING! Today in the Valley it was about 85ish, in Santa Monica it was like 72. It was beautiful. Not to mention the ratio of beautiful women to me was strongly in my favor(I hit on a girl at the art store and got shot down pretty hard, so some things aren't any better on the coast.)
Blade Miracle graduates from college on Saturday. I'm excited for him. I barely remember my graduation. All I remember was how much fun I had. It's hard to believe it was so long ago, and that I actually did it. I told Blade to savor the flavor for me.
Speaking of Blade and the guys, they literally got 'hooked up' with a free show at the Whiskey tomarrow so they are practicing in the living room as I type. This show should be pretty huge for them, so I'm excited for what they do. I hope it goes well for them.
I have so many back stories I need to catch everyone up on, but I never have time to sit down and write them all down. I will...I promise. They all should be pretty funny or interesting at least, so we'll see how it goes.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Worst Night Ever Man.
As many of you know, yesterday was Saturday. The day really started off on the right foot as I inproperly set my alarm clock, only to be woken up by a very polite, but dissapointed Barnes and Noble manager.("Ah, Matt...ah...its ahhh, almost 7...are you going to come in today do you think?) So after a brutal 3.5 hours in the 'coal mine', I headed back to the apartment to get a bite and await Hell...
For me, Hell is not a place of brimstone and fire, but its a place of denim and air-conditioning. The two are alike in that both seemed to be fueled by pain and suffering. bloomingdales could possibly be the worst job on earth. Yesterday I almost just walked out. Rediculous.
Anyway, I worked in Hades until 8:30pm, then headed home. My night was supposed to be exciting in that I was invited to a party in Hollywood. Before you start desperately seeking party pictures on the internet of me three-way kissing Paris and Nicole, allow me to tell you that the party was in Hollywood, it was not a "Hollywood Party". It was an opening for a theatre company that my friend Sean is a part of. He thought it would be cool for me to come down and meet some people in the bizz, and get a feel for the theatre they are creating.
Great. So I get home from a horrible long day of working, take a breather for about an hour, and then I get ready to hit the scene. I left my apartment in Sherman Oaks about about 10:30. Now Sean told me the party was ON Santa Monica...I thought he said it was IN Santa Monica. The two locations are about 20 miles away from one another. So like an idiot, I headed down the 405 to Santa Monica, then proceeded to drive around Santa Monica for about an hour looking for the cross street. It was then that I broke down, put my manhood on the shelf, and called Sean for directions. Sean, ever the gentleman, chuckled to himself and said, "Ah, dude, we're in Hollywood." It was at that moment that I realized, had I had taken the 101 south, I could have been there in about 10 minutes from my apartment in Sherman Oaks. So instead of taking the 405 back to the 101, I decided to take Santa Monica Blvd half-way across town to get to Hollywood.
Santa Monica Blvd was a horrible idea in that they were doing construction all night on the whole street, so there was delay after delay, then a huge concert got out at Hollywood Bowl which I had to drive through which meant people walking everywhere and extremely slow traffic.
After another HOUR I finally arrived at the party. I got out of the car angry at the world, and my legs were also asleep. I pretty much drove from Omaha to Kearney looking for this party and I remained inside a 12 mile radius of where I lived. LA IS AWSOME!
The party itself was pretty cool. I met a lot of girls who were: 1)my age or older 2)actresses/models 3)BEAUTIFUL. I also met one of the head make-up artists for X-men 3, and he told me all about how me had to work all week with Kelsey Grammer. The theatre director also gave me one of the finest compliments I have ever recieved. IT was terribly encouraging in this crazy city.
All in all, my night was pretty lame, but I learned a little more about LA.
What did you think of the night Mr. Little Jeans?
Worst night ever man.
For me, Hell is not a place of brimstone and fire, but its a place of denim and air-conditioning. The two are alike in that both seemed to be fueled by pain and suffering. bloomingdales could possibly be the worst job on earth. Yesterday I almost just walked out. Rediculous.
Anyway, I worked in Hades until 8:30pm, then headed home. My night was supposed to be exciting in that I was invited to a party in Hollywood. Before you start desperately seeking party pictures on the internet of me three-way kissing Paris and Nicole, allow me to tell you that the party was in Hollywood, it was not a "Hollywood Party". It was an opening for a theatre company that my friend Sean is a part of. He thought it would be cool for me to come down and meet some people in the bizz, and get a feel for the theatre they are creating.
Great. So I get home from a horrible long day of working, take a breather for about an hour, and then I get ready to hit the scene. I left my apartment in Sherman Oaks about about 10:30. Now Sean told me the party was ON Santa Monica...I thought he said it was IN Santa Monica. The two locations are about 20 miles away from one another. So like an idiot, I headed down the 405 to Santa Monica, then proceeded to drive around Santa Monica for about an hour looking for the cross street. It was then that I broke down, put my manhood on the shelf, and called Sean for directions. Sean, ever the gentleman, chuckled to himself and said, "Ah, dude, we're in Hollywood." It was at that moment that I realized, had I had taken the 101 south, I could have been there in about 10 minutes from my apartment in Sherman Oaks. So instead of taking the 405 back to the 101, I decided to take Santa Monica Blvd half-way across town to get to Hollywood.
Santa Monica Blvd was a horrible idea in that they were doing construction all night on the whole street, so there was delay after delay, then a huge concert got out at Hollywood Bowl which I had to drive through which meant people walking everywhere and extremely slow traffic.
After another HOUR I finally arrived at the party. I got out of the car angry at the world, and my legs were also asleep. I pretty much drove from Omaha to Kearney looking for this party and I remained inside a 12 mile radius of where I lived. LA IS AWSOME!
The party itself was pretty cool. I met a lot of girls who were: 1)my age or older 2)actresses/models 3)BEAUTIFUL. I also met one of the head make-up artists for X-men 3, and he told me all about how me had to work all week with Kelsey Grammer. The theatre director also gave me one of the finest compliments I have ever recieved. IT was terribly encouraging in this crazy city.
All in all, my night was pretty lame, but I learned a little more about LA.
What did you think of the night Mr. Little Jeans?
Worst night ever man.
Friday, July 22, 2005
Louis XIV
So I saw this Painting at the Getty yesterday...I saw IT! It was seriously about 10 feet tall and 6 feet wide. It was bigger than Gilmore's underpants!(keepn' you in check old boy) I hope to have some of my Getty photos up soon, so keep your eyes peeled.
In other news, there is an 18-year old who is way up on my Jammie. Big deal, I should be used to that you say, but she works at bloomingdales and is always giving me these 'sexy' looks when she walks through my area. I'll be honest with you, she's smokin' hot, but c'mon...she's 18. Everytime she talks to me about 'hanging out' later, and about how "she just doesn't know what she's going to do alone tonight" All I can think about is how she was in 8th grade when I graduated from highschool. Everytime she gives me a look all I see is Tom Anderson's little sister...This isn't Viet Nam, there are rules.
I have an obsession with wobblers. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the craze that is sweeping my apartment (or are just cooler than me), wobblers are pretty much Weebles that Disney ripped off the concept for, and slapped different characters on. There are 50 different wobblers each featuring a Disney Cartoon personality of some sort to commenorate the 50th aniversery or something. Aren't you supposed to get gold for your 50th or something...boy, Disney really took it up a notch and skipped the gold/platinum and went straight to the wobblers...oh who am I kidding, I buy the big friggin' box of Frosted Flakes just to get my hands on 'em. (I think I got like 8 already)
I talked to Brittney tonight for the first time since our "falling apart". It was akward in that I still like her, but I'm glad I actually don't like her. Hmmm. That makes about as much sense as glasses on a cat-fish. Well, after that comment I guess I'm going to go pan-handle for gold. 5:30 comes around so fast.
"I'm Going to quit drinking" he said
Last evening provided a trip down fraternity "memory lane" as I was introduced to a new aquaintance who proved to be 'troubled' at best.
The evening started out fairly shapely as I returned back to the apartment from a day long visit to the Getty Art Center (probably the coolest place I've visited in LA so far) The Getty is pretty much in Beverly Hills, so its just a quick trip down the 405, but I decided to be rock and roll and took Sepulveda home. It was on this Bohemian Rhapsody that I realized it was really friggin hot! I was sweating like a pistol in my swealtering un-air conditioned car, but thankfully the Getty is only about a 20 minute trip despite traffic, so I was home lickity-split.
When I arrived home I found that Norris had complied to my invitation for tennis, but due to my newly frocked frustration with the heat, we post-ponned our game play 'till around 8pm. I took a cat nap on the couch and at around 7:45 I hit the court.
The game was furious as always, with Norris edging me out for the second consecutive game. I left with my head held high however, (I know most of you probably find that hard to believe since I never legitimatly let Norris beat me at anything) and after a much-needed buddy conversation, I returned home to #206. On the way home I realized I had missed a call from Runge-saun so I chatted with him for about 40 minutes outside, just long enough to discover Norris coming home after his shower to hang out.
Norris and I walked in together only to find the apartment reaking of cigarrettes. When we asked Blade about the smell, he replied "They're smoking outside". I assumed he was refering to our neighbors downstairs so I thought nothing of it. When I went to place my keys on the table I was met by a extremely guady hand-bag. It was like a blend of hideous Easter like pastels in a generic plaid pattern. I honestly looked inside only to see if there might be a Cadberry cream egg, or some Jellies. Just then I heard laughing coming from the patio. It was then when Norris and I asked Benji in unison, "Someone's smoking on our porch?" Just then a fairly rediculous guy strolled through the patio door. He was typical LA college guy; blonde, cargo shorts, some sort of short-sleeved button down just a hair too small allowing his 'gut' to peak out each and everytime he reached upwards (which seemed to happen every other moment...I mean, how many times to you need to reach up?)
He was accompanied by some bird who I then realized was the rightful owner of the Easter Bunny's man-bag. We made some slightly akward introductions and I found out his name was Mike, and hers was something else (whooooo cares!) I realized an opportunity to work some new material, so I put on my game face and really worked the room. The bird was all over my game, which was good to know I still had the touch, but was lame because...let's face it, "Must be this pretty to ride" (not like that perv)
Blade decided to take Mike to in-and-out while I chilled out on the couch, took in some tele, and worked this bird just a little more. I guess she was kinda pretty, but not really 'up to par' so I wasn't exactly gaming on her or anything. We chatted for a bit and when Blade came back we popped in Million Dollar Baby to take the edge off.
Speaking of taking the edge off, Mike and the Bird had brought over some brews for some reason or other, but they were actually the only ones drinking(I kicked the habit, Benji was sick, Kuhns tired, and norris and jeff just don't roll like that) So Mike had a few in him when we turned out attention to Clint Eastwood.
Half-way through the picture the affects of Mike's consumption seemed to catch up with at an alarming rate. Mike, a man most of us did not know, walked into our kitchen and began going through our kitchen in search of food. I shot Norris a glance of, "I don't think so", and he replied with "Yeah". Mike asked if we had any food and we told him to come back and sit down. Ten minutes later Mike stood up and said, "I'm going to crash" and proceeded to walk down our hallway to the bedrooms. We all sat wide-eyed wondering if this was actually happening only to all turn to Blade almost in unison as a sort of way of saying, "Blade, get this guy under control." Blade again brought Mike back to the living room. Ten minutes later Mike returned to the kitchen, this time in search of what we believed he described as "juice", but again we told him to come back. By this time there was an akward air in the room as the bird sat there obviously embarrassed of her friend, while we all sat wondering how we were going to get this fool out of our place. Later Mike passed out on our carpet not before unleashing the spawn of hell in the form of Methane gas from some obvious digestive difficulties.
As the film came to a close, we began to turn out the lights, the tele, and all looked at the bird. She picked up the hint and sort of "dragged" Mike up off the floor and told him they were leaving. Mike looked about the room at our discusted faces and headed toward the door.
In standard, "I made a fool of myself in front of sober people fashion" Mike left Blade a message which simply stated: "I have a problem, I need to stop drinking."
Long live the Greek system and its ideals!
The evening started out fairly shapely as I returned back to the apartment from a day long visit to the Getty Art Center (probably the coolest place I've visited in LA so far) The Getty is pretty much in Beverly Hills, so its just a quick trip down the 405, but I decided to be rock and roll and took Sepulveda home. It was on this Bohemian Rhapsody that I realized it was really friggin hot! I was sweating like a pistol in my swealtering un-air conditioned car, but thankfully the Getty is only about a 20 minute trip despite traffic, so I was home lickity-split.
When I arrived home I found that Norris had complied to my invitation for tennis, but due to my newly frocked frustration with the heat, we post-ponned our game play 'till around 8pm. I took a cat nap on the couch and at around 7:45 I hit the court.
The game was furious as always, with Norris edging me out for the second consecutive game. I left with my head held high however, (I know most of you probably find that hard to believe since I never legitimatly let Norris beat me at anything) and after a much-needed buddy conversation, I returned home to #206. On the way home I realized I had missed a call from Runge-saun so I chatted with him for about 40 minutes outside, just long enough to discover Norris coming home after his shower to hang out.
Norris and I walked in together only to find the apartment reaking of cigarrettes. When we asked Blade about the smell, he replied "They're smoking outside". I assumed he was refering to our neighbors downstairs so I thought nothing of it. When I went to place my keys on the table I was met by a extremely guady hand-bag. It was like a blend of hideous Easter like pastels in a generic plaid pattern. I honestly looked inside only to see if there might be a Cadberry cream egg, or some Jellies. Just then I heard laughing coming from the patio. It was then when Norris and I asked Benji in unison, "Someone's smoking on our porch?" Just then a fairly rediculous guy strolled through the patio door. He was typical LA college guy; blonde, cargo shorts, some sort of short-sleeved button down just a hair too small allowing his 'gut' to peak out each and everytime he reached upwards (which seemed to happen every other moment...I mean, how many times to you need to reach up?)
He was accompanied by some bird who I then realized was the rightful owner of the Easter Bunny's man-bag. We made some slightly akward introductions and I found out his name was Mike, and hers was something else (whooooo cares!) I realized an opportunity to work some new material, so I put on my game face and really worked the room. The bird was all over my game, which was good to know I still had the touch, but was lame because...let's face it, "Must be this pretty to ride" (not like that perv)
Blade decided to take Mike to in-and-out while I chilled out on the couch, took in some tele, and worked this bird just a little more. I guess she was kinda pretty, but not really 'up to par' so I wasn't exactly gaming on her or anything. We chatted for a bit and when Blade came back we popped in Million Dollar Baby to take the edge off.
Speaking of taking the edge off, Mike and the Bird had brought over some brews for some reason or other, but they were actually the only ones drinking(I kicked the habit, Benji was sick, Kuhns tired, and norris and jeff just don't roll like that) So Mike had a few in him when we turned out attention to Clint Eastwood.
Half-way through the picture the affects of Mike's consumption seemed to catch up with at an alarming rate. Mike, a man most of us did not know, walked into our kitchen and began going through our kitchen in search of food. I shot Norris a glance of, "I don't think so", and he replied with "Yeah". Mike asked if we had any food and we told him to come back and sit down. Ten minutes later Mike stood up and said, "I'm going to crash" and proceeded to walk down our hallway to the bedrooms. We all sat wide-eyed wondering if this was actually happening only to all turn to Blade almost in unison as a sort of way of saying, "Blade, get this guy under control." Blade again brought Mike back to the living room. Ten minutes later Mike returned to the kitchen, this time in search of what we believed he described as "juice", but again we told him to come back. By this time there was an akward air in the room as the bird sat there obviously embarrassed of her friend, while we all sat wondering how we were going to get this fool out of our place. Later Mike passed out on our carpet not before unleashing the spawn of hell in the form of Methane gas from some obvious digestive difficulties.
As the film came to a close, we began to turn out the lights, the tele, and all looked at the bird. She picked up the hint and sort of "dragged" Mike up off the floor and told him they were leaving. Mike looked about the room at our discusted faces and headed toward the door.
In standard, "I made a fool of myself in front of sober people fashion" Mike left Blade a message which simply stated: "I have a problem, I need to stop drinking."
Long live the Greek system and its ideals!
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
cold november rain
I apologize to all my loyal readers (myself included comes to a total of myself) for lagging in my posts. I have many exciting episodes to catch everyone up to speed, but I just can never seem to find the time to put them together.
It has been a crazy time in the valley as of late. I'm growing tired of waking up each and every morning at 5:30am. I also loath the heat that seems to plague the Valley without any form of remorse. It's been really tough trying to stay positive working two crappy jobs for about 8-14 hours a day, but I'm starting to see some light in the tunnel. Today I met with my first Hollywood friend to discuss some possible 'bizz' related work. In time I should be able to quit my crappy jobs, and work on set with different directors and the like.(I'll tell you more about that in a later post) So things are looking up. On a positive side-I wrote some great new jokes...and hope to hit the stage sometime this month to see if I can't get something like that kicked off. Anywho...it rained today. Something good is going to happen. It never rains in the valley.
It has been a crazy time in the valley as of late. I'm growing tired of waking up each and every morning at 5:30am. I also loath the heat that seems to plague the Valley without any form of remorse. It's been really tough trying to stay positive working two crappy jobs for about 8-14 hours a day, but I'm starting to see some light in the tunnel. Today I met with my first Hollywood friend to discuss some possible 'bizz' related work. In time I should be able to quit my crappy jobs, and work on set with different directors and the like.(I'll tell you more about that in a later post) So things are looking up. On a positive side-I wrote some great new jokes...and hope to hit the stage sometime this month to see if I can't get something like that kicked off. Anywho...it rained today. Something good is going to happen. It never rains in the valley.
Saturday, July 09, 2005
assistant TO the retail manager.
This morning, like any other morning, my alarm wailed its usual bone-shivering song proding me into 'action'. Like a Kodiak bear released from hibernation, I lurched forward from my squirel-like sleeping position only to a standing position very remnant of the third stage of man on an evolution chart. As I moved toward the hallway, my vision still in a slight daze, caused me to collide with the door frame at speeds which resembled the titanic hitting the iceberg.(Rest in peace LEO) My reaction time was only further disrupted by the amazing brilliance of the bathroom light, as it momentarily blinded me creating some sort of Arc of the Covenant affect (-->see "Indian Jones-Raiders of the Lost Ark" for visual reference) as I attempted to relieve myself. When my vision finally returned to normal I noticed I'd better shake a leg if I were to make it to work on time since it was running on 5:45am. Why yes, that is correct; I work at 6:30am every morining, but this morning was special and deserved a few more moments of silent dissapointment as I gazed at myself in the bathroom mirror. For today was to be my first 14 hour day in California. God Bless the USA.
Barnes and Noble proceeded much like it has everyday prior to this one. I walked in, grabbed my scanner, and began re-shelving the previous day's go-backs. This day was slightly different due to the fact I was in a suedo angry sentiment due to an arguement from the previous evening with a lady.(or girl in this case) So intersperced between the songs about drowing someone you love, and bloody knuckles, I finished my carts in almost record time. 10:30 came around rather swiftly as I hit the Barnes and Noble doors without looking back (remember Sodom and Gahmora?). Within 10 minutes I was back at the apartment, within the next 8 minutes I was pulling into the Fashion square Mall's parking facility where I was to park and sprint into bloomingdales for my 11am shift. Despite arriving on time, my efforts were in vain as Diego explained to me in broken English, "You're early to-day, no?" Sure enough, I wasn't due in 'till 12noon, so I returned home to eat a well deserved sandwhich while disscussing the previous evenings engagement with Blade Miracle. (about the girl...I didn't go out with Blade...sick-os)
By 12, I was back on the sales floor. I thought my day would roll on as many of them have before, but today something happened. Despite my desire to quit bloomingdales, my good-natured work ethic garnished a special meeting with Al. It was in this 3 minute private akward festival, that Al told me he was PROMOTING me to my own division and giving me a pay-raise. Why yes, I have only been there for about 2 and a half weeks.
So, now I'd like to quit the job, but I am making MORE money, and I am incharge of my own section of the salesfloor. What is interesting is the comparision to my life to that of The Office. My manager Al, is David Brent. I was promoted, like Tim AND now that I have new responsiblities, I act like I'm important, like Tim. Creepy.
By the end of the day, I had worked roughly 14hours, but was a member of authority. I headed to Robbie Mack's to get some free Pizza from Jeff and sat around with Kuhns talking about my day's exploits.
Gareth Keenan, Team Leader/assistan regional manager (assistant TO the regional manager)
Barnes and Noble proceeded much like it has everyday prior to this one. I walked in, grabbed my scanner, and began re-shelving the previous day's go-backs. This day was slightly different due to the fact I was in a suedo angry sentiment due to an arguement from the previous evening with a lady.(or girl in this case) So intersperced between the songs about drowing someone you love, and bloody knuckles, I finished my carts in almost record time. 10:30 came around rather swiftly as I hit the Barnes and Noble doors without looking back (remember Sodom and Gahmora?). Within 10 minutes I was back at the apartment, within the next 8 minutes I was pulling into the Fashion square Mall's parking facility where I was to park and sprint into bloomingdales for my 11am shift. Despite arriving on time, my efforts were in vain as Diego explained to me in broken English, "You're early to-day, no?" Sure enough, I wasn't due in 'till 12noon, so I returned home to eat a well deserved sandwhich while disscussing the previous evenings engagement with Blade Miracle. (about the girl...I didn't go out with Blade...sick-os)
By 12, I was back on the sales floor. I thought my day would roll on as many of them have before, but today something happened. Despite my desire to quit bloomingdales, my good-natured work ethic garnished a special meeting with Al. It was in this 3 minute private akward festival, that Al told me he was PROMOTING me to my own division and giving me a pay-raise. Why yes, I have only been there for about 2 and a half weeks.
So, now I'd like to quit the job, but I am making MORE money, and I am incharge of my own section of the salesfloor. What is interesting is the comparision to my life to that of The Office. My manager Al, is David Brent. I was promoted, like Tim AND now that I have new responsiblities, I act like I'm important, like Tim. Creepy.
By the end of the day, I had worked roughly 14hours, but was a member of authority. I headed to Robbie Mack's to get some free Pizza from Jeff and sat around with Kuhns talking about my day's exploits.
Gareth Keenan, Team Leader/assistan regional manager (assistant TO the regional manager)
Saturday, July 02, 2005
irony loves company
Some dreams are never meant to be. We look at them from afar and say, "I wish that was my life" or "why can't that be me?" or "I bet he can do like 40 push-ups..." Some things were just never meant to be. Then there are people like me who stare adversity in the face as if to say, "Yeah, this is my bread-pudding, and what are YOU gonna do about it?" Some call me legend, more call me a legacy, but either way...yeah-I am the best.
This whole issue was addressed not more than 24 hours ago when a dream, or a longing rather, was brought to light. I haven't slept in a bed since June 5th. Yeah, you do the math...that was when I still lived in Lincoln BEFORE I moved my bed out and slept on the floor for 2 days. Needless to say, my lumbar hasn't felt the support of coils, springs, or support for an extended period of time. Heck, I've slept on the living room couch since I've been in LA, and even now when I think of it I've also slept on the floor.
Now many of you would see this plight and think to yourself, "I could never get out of that situation, its hopeless, I'll never have a bed". That's what seperates you mortals from your old boy Moore. You see, not more than 24 hours ago Ryan moved out, Jeff moved his bed into the other room, and I was given a bed.
So needless to say, you're now sitting there right now reading this-tears streaming from your eyes as if this is the first time you've seen RUDY, wondering how one could write and live through such a story of persecution and struggle. You think, "Moore you did it! You have a bed! Tell me all about your first night in almost a month that you got to sleep in a bed..."
Well I CAN'T! Why? Because I fell asleep on the couch last night! That's right, I've wanted and dreamed of sleeping in a bed for a month, and when I finally get the chance...I'm watching VH1 at 2am, the next thing I know its 7:30am and I have the couch's floral pattern indented into my skin.
Great work Moore! Idiot.
This whole issue was addressed not more than 24 hours ago when a dream, or a longing rather, was brought to light. I haven't slept in a bed since June 5th. Yeah, you do the math...that was when I still lived in Lincoln BEFORE I moved my bed out and slept on the floor for 2 days. Needless to say, my lumbar hasn't felt the support of coils, springs, or support for an extended period of time. Heck, I've slept on the living room couch since I've been in LA, and even now when I think of it I've also slept on the floor.
Now many of you would see this plight and think to yourself, "I could never get out of that situation, its hopeless, I'll never have a bed". That's what seperates you mortals from your old boy Moore. You see, not more than 24 hours ago Ryan moved out, Jeff moved his bed into the other room, and I was given a bed.
So needless to say, you're now sitting there right now reading this-tears streaming from your eyes as if this is the first time you've seen RUDY, wondering how one could write and live through such a story of persecution and struggle. You think, "Moore you did it! You have a bed! Tell me all about your first night in almost a month that you got to sleep in a bed..."
Well I CAN'T! Why? Because I fell asleep on the couch last night! That's right, I've wanted and dreamed of sleeping in a bed for a month, and when I finally get the chance...I'm watching VH1 at 2am, the next thing I know its 7:30am and I have the couch's floral pattern indented into my skin.
Great work Moore! Idiot.
Friday, July 01, 2005
Mr. 1980who?
Tonight, my world has been changed forever. It wasn't because I watched 'Hoffa' on AMC, or because the full-effect of Daddy Warbucks (also on AMC today) came through to me in a vision. No friends, tonight I was part of what could have possibly been the greatest instrumental supergroup of all time. Joules.
I started out the evening in normal fashion, I came home after what would have been a day off of work, and began watching AMC. Due to my fluent procrastination, I had to also apply for a student loan consolidationn process (which took forever), then I headed out to the boys' CD release show in Venice Beach.
The show was at a place called "the good hurt" which was a pretty sweet venue which came complete with mirrors on the bathroom countertops for your crack-snorting convinience. The bartenders dressed in skimpy black nurses uniforms which did nothing for them but improve their tip count, and apparently smiling was out of the question for them. Despite that stylized 'touch', the venue was pretty sweet. Once the show kicked off...things changed in a big way.
The band Joules took the stage much like the style of Mr.1986. A very little soundcheck as a scarecrow-like guitar player introduced the band. As soon as they struck their first note...my life changed. Joules was Mr.1986 meets Dillinger Escape plan meets Miles Davis. It was some of the most amazing music I've ever heard in my life. They changed time signatures faster than I can change shorts in the men's room. It was absolutely insane. How good were they? So good I would have to tell Mr.Hider that he'd been bettered. They were epic.
The next band was a little too reagae for me, so I spaced them out 'till the boys played. They played a pretty good set, and they even sold 1 CD! Not too bad for a CD release show.
More importantly, I met a beautiful girl who got to see what many kids back home call "a game". Let's face it: midwest, eastcoast, westcoast...Moore's A game is always on.
There is a party going on here as we speak. I have to be at work in four hours, so I'm waiting for some of these slackers to hit the road. We'll see how it goes.
I started out the evening in normal fashion, I came home after what would have been a day off of work, and began watching AMC. Due to my fluent procrastination, I had to also apply for a student loan consolidationn process (which took forever), then I headed out to the boys' CD release show in Venice Beach.
The show was at a place called "the good hurt" which was a pretty sweet venue which came complete with mirrors on the bathroom countertops for your crack-snorting convinience. The bartenders dressed in skimpy black nurses uniforms which did nothing for them but improve their tip count, and apparently smiling was out of the question for them. Despite that stylized 'touch', the venue was pretty sweet. Once the show kicked off...things changed in a big way.
The band Joules took the stage much like the style of Mr.1986. A very little soundcheck as a scarecrow-like guitar player introduced the band. As soon as they struck their first note...my life changed. Joules was Mr.1986 meets Dillinger Escape plan meets Miles Davis. It was some of the most amazing music I've ever heard in my life. They changed time signatures faster than I can change shorts in the men's room. It was absolutely insane. How good were they? So good I would have to tell Mr.Hider that he'd been bettered. They were epic.
The next band was a little too reagae for me, so I spaced them out 'till the boys played. They played a pretty good set, and they even sold 1 CD! Not too bad for a CD release show.
More importantly, I met a beautiful girl who got to see what many kids back home call "a game". Let's face it: midwest, eastcoast, westcoast...Moore's A game is always on.
There is a party going on here as we speak. I have to be at work in four hours, so I'm waiting for some of these slackers to hit the road. We'll see how it goes.
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