I was a worthless piece of crap yesterday at work, and for the first time it wasn't because of a hangover. That's a slight lie as I did drink, but it wasn't the usual "Shock and Awe" drinking session I usually subject my liver to. The Jaeger carpet bombing was silent for the Lord's day of rest. No I was tired because I insist on putting random movies on as I go to bed. Sunday's 1am showing was"Lucas". The tag line for the movie is "It's about falling in love. For the first time".
It should actually read "It's about falling in love. For the first time...and then having your heart ripped out and stomped on over and over again...as you are totally oblivious to your short comings and the fact that you have no chance at getting the girl...who is gross anyway, as she's a creepy ginger."
Sorry, I shouldn't say any more. I'd hate to spoil it for anyone who hasn't seen it....or hasn't seen it since it came out (1986...damn my self inflicted carbon dating) but here are my key thoughts:
1) Gingers are dirty whores and can not be trusted! EVER! 2) Lucas would go trench coat mafia in this post columbine world. Guaranteed. 3) Charlie Sheen was (and I'm sure still is) a terrible friend 4) Lucas should have targeted the square Winona Ryder. So much hotter. Even back then, and so less ginger-y. Plus she was in to him. He could have gotten in that much need practice bang before he set his sights on the Ginger.
Why does this movie strike such a chord in the heart of the Deltron? Obviously I've never had an unrequited crush on a ginger. I've always been partial to brunettes...or pretty much any girl that doesn't melt in the sun.
I never had a sick fascination w/ locusts either.
Hmm, perhaps it was because my physique as a High school freshman was eerily similar to young Lucaplakia. I know I know, a shocking revelation. It's true my friends, this chiseled rock of muscle you see now was once the shortest kid of his grade. Even worse, his fraternal twin was not the second shortest.(He was third) Damn that Bastard. I suppose that would make me a bastard as well, but you get the idea. The spiked hair "blow fish" defense did nothing to fool others into puffing up my size. I just had to wait for the sweet sweet release that puberty would bring. Fortunately no one ever gave me the Lucas treatment. I'm guessing it was either because I didn't live in a trailer park and collect bugs OR because there weren't vats of Icy Hot to slather on my hairless man berries.
It wasn't all sour grapes as I did get to purchase Air Jordan's in 8th grade at the kid size discounted price. No shot Fran (my Mom) was going to dole out cash for the full priced adult sized cost.
This blog is going to act as a public service announcement to anyone considering using the Hollywood Bowl "Park and Ride" service. As it turns out, the times are NOT "suggested" arrival time options but instead are the firm time choices that are available for your shows' specific start time.
I learned this the hard way. Allow me to scare you straight.
The day before the Radiohead show I drank like a champ. For no good reason on Sunday I had 6 jaeger bombs and countless beers and other drinks at The Victorian, The Beer Garden, O'Briens, and my house. It made for a great Sunday, but a miserable Monday. This led me straight to the Park N Ride as I planned to rest and rebound in a bus on the way to the venue. Oddly enough, when I arrived at the Santa Monica DMV there were ZERO people waiting for the bus. I thought I couldn't be more worried at that point. I was wrong. Shortly after discussing what to do w/ my roommate Pat, who was kind enough to drop me off, another Radiohead fan showed up. Her name was Monica and she was bat shit nuts. She clearly made the same mistake I did and was having a self admitted freak out. Besides questioning who I was calling when I used my phone to try and verify the p-n-r info she questioned the West Side. Her theory, which clearly ignored the full parking lot, was that there weren't any Radiohead fans on the Westside and that was the reason there was no one waiting for a pick up. I was way too hungover to humor her insanity so I peppered in a few subtle zingers as I tried to figure out my next step. Truth be told I was fucking terrifed of her. CRAZY EYES! Luckily Monica's friends showed up and, following a long brainstorming session, decided they'd drive to the Bowl. After a quick deliberation, they agreed to drive me as well. Kids, I don't advocate taking rides with strangers, but this was for Radiohead. It wasn't like someone asked me to get in their van to help them find their lost puppy (ed note: People, wise up. There's never a lost puppy!). Also, the driver, Nick, was a spot on stunt double for my buddy Schellman...except a Mexican version. John Mexico. Super trust worthy.
Michael Vick would be so proud...en el trato.
The car ride consisted of Monica complaining the entire fucking time, and her friends either rolling their eye balls or telling her to "try and have fun". Why would John Mexico, Bizarro Annie, and the Bourne Ultimatum 2.o want to hang out with such a Debbie Downer. When she found out that someone threw a "Singles" party and she wasn't invited she belted out over and over again: "BUT I'm single (shocker!) Why wasn't I invited?" Oh Monica, I just met you and it's completely obvious why you weren't invited. Her friends made some lame excuse and changed the subject.*
As the straggler, I really wanted to shtick it up by doing the Seven Minute Abs bit from "There's Something About Mary"...but i thought better of it as I was insanely hungover and I feared being dropped off on the 101. (Note: this is also the reason i have no pics of the motley crew. That would've punched my express first class ticket to Creep City.)
"Bingo, man, bingo. 7-Minute Abs. And we guarantee just as good a workout as the 8-minute folk"
At this point I learned we'd be detouring** to John Mexico's boss' house. Hmm, part of their scam perhaps. Get a straggler alone in the Hollywood Hills and then steal his tix. Genius really. My fears were put to rest when we arrived and I realized the boss could probably buy the Hollywood Bowl. They had a friggin Warhol for christ's sake. I knew this because the boss's wife insisted on giving a tour, even when I tried to politely decline by saying "Thanks, I'm good....I'm a straggler. No tour needed." I think she thought I was kidding. A friggin Warhol. Nuts. I was impressed. As evidenced by my living room, I'm a huge art fan:
Matt points out the rich textures of my Bob Ross original knockoff .
After some small talk..and some not so small Monica complaining we jumped into the boss' car and made our way to the Bowl. Of course Monica didn't miss a fucking beat, as she took this second car ride as an opportunity to unnecessarily insult John Mexico's car." Seriously, why did these people hang out w/ her? Luckily it was a short ride, but not short enough as John Mexico and his boss gave each other goodbye European cheek kisses to go along with the standard bro hug. I didn't need to see that. After that we went our separate ways and I met my buddy and headed to the seats and never looked back.
What lessons have we learned? You know what...I'm not sure I learned a lesson as I'd rather ride w/ strangers than drive to the Hollywood Bowl. That Tetris stacked parking is a fucking nightmare.
Actual Radiohead concert notes:
Ed Grimley + Gary Oldman in "The Professional" = Thom Yorke. Stop trying to come up with a better comparison. It's impossible.
Steve Nash is apparently now playing bass for Radiohead.
No pic needed: Johnny Greenwood is a bad ass guitarist. Set List 1. Reckoner 2. Optimistic 3. There There 4. 15 Step 5. All I Need 6. Pyramid Song 7. Weird Fishes/Arpeggi 8. The Gloaming 9. Videotape 10. Talk Show Host 11. Faust Arp 12. Tell Me Why (Neil Young Cover) 13. No Surprises 14. Jigsaw Falling Into Place 15. The Bends 16. The National Anthem 17. Nude 18. Bodysnatchers 19. House of Cards 20. Planet Telex 21. Go Slowly 22. Fake Plastic Trees 23. True Love Waits Intro/Everything In Its Right Place 24. Cymbal Rush 25. Karma Police 26. Idioteque
Unexpected Highlight: "Tell Me Why". I've never heard the Neil Young version and I don't care. This is now an instant classic Radiohead song in my mind.
Sad Lowlight: "True Love Waits". It broke my heart that I could barely recognize this usually great song because it was reworked into a bizzaro organ infused death crawl. The fact that it was my "Man, I hope they play that song" selection, made it that much worse.
Weirdest thing I noticed because I was so hungover I was forced into sober ultra awareness: The asian girl next to me who would laugh uncontrollably EVERY single time she looked at the stage through her binoculars. WTF. Maybe they were displaying reruns of Full House or America's Funniest Home Videos up there. Saget is one funny fuck.
* Turns out Moncia was offered the ticket day of...which usally translates into "Hey...um...we couldn't find anyone else to come w/ us and we don't want to eat the cost...so...um...i guess...um..if you want to come...bring your cash!"
I would have given my ticket to Hitler before her!
A little more then a month ago i posted a link on Facebook (the bane of my blogger existence) that allowed people to download the new Girl Talk CD for "free". I'm re posting it here because...well just because it kicks so much ass.
Another reason I'm re posting it is because some douche at Facebook flagged the link as "malicious content". A bit harsh I'm thinking...but the album does attempt to kick your ass so I suppose Facebook is partly right.
For you goons who might get confused by the transaction questions on the page, follow these instructions:
* Click on the link * Submit a payment price of $1.00 (you don't really have to pay FYI) * Click feed the animals * Select My paypal or credit card account is inside the United State * Click feed the animals * Click here to begin download
It's that simple. Unzip the file and put on your dance shoes.
For anyone out there questioning the integrity of not paying you should know that by spreading the love I've sold countless Girl Talk concert tickets...and that's where the money is at. Don't you judge me!
Here is an example of the good times that can be had fueled by Girl Talk and the appropriate amount of jaeger bombs
Let's face facts: I'm lazy. Not in the extreme sense mind you. However, if I can passably take care of something in walking distance from my current location I will ALWAYS take that option over jumping into my car and finding the recommended route. At work I eat at the Lobby Trimanna FAR too often and I get my dry cleaning done from a one eyed Russian who almost always ends up staining my already considerably stained shirts or needs three more days to get me my clothes back. Pretty inconvenient for being "convenient". That said, I'd never consider going anywhere else. He's earned my trust by:
1) being in walking distance 2) always remembering my name (probably because I'm the only sucker dropping off my clothes to him)
Knowing this about me you'll now understand why when it came time for me to send in my measurements for a wedding I have to attend in Baltimore my first stop was this establishment. I asked Boris to measure me but he said "Wait till tomorrow, the other guy is better. He is tailor. He do better job." I appreciated his honesty and agreed to come back the next day. I trust Boris, I've already established that....but I was a bit apprehensive of the unknown tailor. I'd always seen him in the shop and to me he always looked like Big Fat Bernie Gayle from "Safe Men"
possibly the source of all the stains.
I figured i should give him the benefit of the doubt and let him give it a crack. By "give it a crack" I mean cup my balls...in a totally professional manner. The guy started off by saying "in America they measure by inseam....but in my country this is how we do it."
Del: um.........OK Tailor: I draw pictures...they understand. Del: (under his breath) Shit
After 10 minutes of my awkward silence and his non nonsensical mutterings I was presented a piece of notebook paper. This was the end result:
40 - 39 1/2? WTF does that mean?
Brest? WTF!?
West? WTF! Is that Vest or Waist? Or is that some Eastern European Hybrid?
I'm screwed. If I get 40" legs I'm going to look like Josh Baskin* after Zoltan granted his wish to go back to being a kid. However if i get 40" minus 39/12 I'll be so much worse off.
I had planned on slipping him a Lincoln ($5) for his efforts...but the results warranted a different kind of Lincoln (either a penny or a "Sic semper tyrannis"). Even still I scanned the measurements and sent them to my buddy in Baltimore which elicited a quick "Are you fucking kidding me reply?". I stood my ground and told him to submit the measurements just to get a reaction from the Baltimore counterpoint. Of course the tux guy there was dumbfounded. Rightfully so. I ended up having to spend a hungover Sunday in Men's Warehouse pretending like I was interested in buying crap so I could get some measurements.
Days later as I was dropping more dry cleaning off (to get stained), my one eyed friend asked how the tux measurements went. This is how the conversation went:
Boris: How did the tux fit? Del: Oh, well the wedding isn't for awhile... Boris: Ah, but fitting good... Del: Actually, don't tell your friend but the guy in Baltimore could not follow the drawings... Boris: What you mean. It was clear as day? Del: Um, I don't know, he just said it was hard for him to follow.. Boris: Maybe HE not professional.. Del: Ha ha, yeah...maybe not... (long awkward pause) Boris: Here is your dry CLEANING (in all caps to stress his inflection) Del: Thanks...oh, looks like the elbows are ripped. Boris: That was like that before. Del(mutters "crap" under his breath) Uh...OK. See you next time. Boris: See you later Del
You see, He still recalled the name. You can't put a price on that...and laziness. Part of me wishes I stuck with the original measurements as an ode to Chris Farley. It's not often that my physique can pull of a "fat guy in a little coat" moment. This was my chance. ...and i squandered it!
How to Ruin a Lake's Worth of Family Vacations in 10 Easy Steps. (now with pictures and videos)
1) Grow creepy 'staches: Hide the women and children, and the PBR...and the rebar while you're at it.
2) Purchase Big Dog shirts: Not just one for yourself mind you. EVERYONE needs to have one. The worse the slogan on the back, the better. Think back to all the Johnsons /Co-Ed Naked Sports shirts you may or may not have owned in the past. Even better, since you are all in Big Dog shirts you are given license to shout "HEY BIG DAWG" at each other in a Cosmo Kramer voice whenever you'd like.
3) Embrace your inner child: Sure a grown man, sporting a porno 'stache, "floating" on a purple dragon might seem a bit creepy...but hey, at least he wasn't blowing bubbles as he paddled around. Girl with heart sunglasses blowing bubbles = cute. Man w/ 'stache blowing bubbles = the reason things like "Megan's Law" exist.
4) Excessive Drinking: Drink as much as you can, regardless of the intake going on around you. Chug multiple Lake Arrowhead souvenir mugs and then mark your territory the way The Serrano* used to.
5) Nipples: Sex, Hugs, and Violence: If you have a nipple ring, rip it out. If you are wearing a self made Jager tank top, whip it out. If you have a Cougar waiting in the wings, let her lick it out. Damn the families. Their faces will be blurred out in the pics in the same fashion that they will attempt to blur out these nip-isodes.
6)Slam Dance: That is what the 80's were for my friend. You can't rock those classic songs and expect people not to kick ass and take names. Those toddlers dancing? Collateral damage.
7) Waste beer in creepy ways: I'll let the video speak for itself:
8) Steal stuffed animals from defenseless pre-teens. Do horrible things to said stuffed animal: Sure the monkey liked it and they exchanged numbers that night. Matt said he'd call..but let's be honest here people, that was just an Arrowhead hook up. Matt ain't calling. Poor monkey.
9) Jaeger Bombs: Offer anyone and everyone Jaeger Bombs. People love that, and if they don't accept, then you're not less accountable for what happens when you drink all the extras. I blame you strangers for making me drink countless Jaeger Bombs.
10) Dance Off Circle: Thunder Dome Style. Vote for your favorite dance off finishing move in the comments. The Arrowhead families were eerily quiet. I can't figure out why.
Follow these ten surefire steps and you're guaranteed to rule the tiny little town you visit on your next three day weekend. See you in August @ Arrowhead for the Pink Floyd cover band: Which One's Pink.
That band name is worse than anything you've just seen.
And yeah, that was Todd from the Crazy Doggs in that video.
Do the Doggy Bounce!
* Serrano:
Members of the Serrano tribe are part of the Shoshonean subset of the Uto-Aztecan group of Native Americans. Serrano means highlander. They were an offshoot of the Takic people that arrived in Southern California around 2,500 years ago. When the Spanish missionaries came into the region, they helped form the tribal name Serrano, separating them from their neighbors that were designated as the Gabrielino and Kitanemuk.
The Serrano historically populated the San Bernadino Mountains and extended down to the Mojave River region down to the Tejon Creek.
I like toast! I make killer mix cds. I check woot.com daily.
My t-shirt collection is limitless. I'll do the laundry if you'll do the folding. "Wolf Like" Me might play in my head 24/7.
I say the word "literally" with a cockney accent.
I hate cats & cats hate me. There will be no truce.
I feel no shame in saying Point Break is a great movie
I am a sucker for movies set in the not too distant future.
Hamburgers from ApplePan are a gourmet meal in my eyes
If i could go back in time & see a concert it would be Pink Floyd's "The Wall" tour.
I was a worthless piece of crap yesterday at work, and for the first time it wasn't because of a hangover. That's a slight lie as I did drink, but it wasn't the usual "Shock and Awe" drinking session I usually subject my liver to. The Jaeger carpet bombing was silent for the Lord's day of rest. No I was tired because I insist on putting random movies on as I go to bed. Sunday's 1am showing was"Lucas". The tag line for the movie is "It's about falling in love. For the first time". 
