Archive for November, 2010


Everyone raves about it. But it’s a fucking lie to tell people that. Sex destroys lives. Sex leads to break ups. Because you’ll have sex with your girlfriend’s sister, and then the girlfriend will no longer want you. They break up marriages too. Say the guy just isn’t doing it anymore in the sack. The wife wants out. So, she divorces him and… no more. All because of sex. Or say a young girl, bright, pretty, good in school, gets knocked up at 15. Now what? She gives birth to the baby, drops out of high school and sits at home with the baby in the day, and works at night as a cashier at the local supermarket. Her life is over. Why? Because of sex. Now Adam and Eve, they weren’t even born because of sex. They were God’s children. Made from Him.



Everybody’s writing these days. A novel, a screenplay, a memoir. Every day you got another person starting a blog. Like we give a shit about your dumb fucking life. Basically, everyone wants everyone else to know how they feel. They want to be “heard”, as if suddenly they went deaf and mute. And then you got those journalist school types who just want to report on the world and all it’s problems and then relay it back so it can be broadcast over the news. The news, what is the news, anyway? You pick up a paper, you think you’re staying informed? People are informed about shit! They really are. They have no idea what the truth is. They have no idea that behind every fact that the president gives, there’s five lies to go along with it. It’s like taking one step forward and then five steps backward. You’d end up on the other side of town after about 30 minutes of doing that kind of thing.

Short film

I’m going to receive some great closure this week. I directed a short film in June, and it’s been in the editing room for months now. I’ve probably announced it’s completion a dozen times in the last 3 months alone. But now its finally here. A few more days and its complete. And I can show it to the world. It’s a story about drug addicts, in crisp B/W picture. Sigh. I’m not the world’s biggest optimist.

20 year olds

Everyone from 20-29 is in the midst of their lives. 30-39 is nearly prime. But it’s 40-49 that’s really the best years of your life. Because you are still good looking but now appeal to all ages. 18, 30, 45, 50, they all go for the perfectly ripe 40ish guy. And they are also in their intellectual prime as well. But the ones in their 20s are the ones who on the most part think they’ll live forever because  they’re still in that young mindset of “my entire future” lay ahead of me. But some 20 year olds are like edgar allen poe meets kurt cobain – “I’m going to die soon” crowd. Why they think they’re going to die soon is beyond me. I’m not a psychologist. I’m not a researcher or journalist or game show host. I don’t know.

Men and women

In an average conversation, when two heterosexual couples are together, and one is talking to the other, the man will always be the first one to answer, and his answer will always be the shortest one.


It’s difficult to handle professional rejection. You want to be mature about it and use criticisms as helpful tips for the future. But at the same time, it makes you feel so low and empty inside. I’ve been writing the same script for 5 years and only recently did it occur to me that while the idea might be interesting, the end result, is not. So I started writing something similar, because I wanted to keep the theme alive but change the story around a bit. I sent it to a woman who has been a professional writer for 40 years and she absolutely lampooned it. I mean she went off like no one I’ve ever seen in my life. “Puerile, flat, listless, nonsensical, annoying, stupid and banal to the point of coma-inducing” were among the things she said about it. I asked for the truth, and I got it. I appreciate that honesty, I really do, because lying to me and telling me its good when it’s obviously not is not helpful at all. I just wish I could see what is so banal and stupid about it. I wish I could create something of higher quality, and its too bad I can’t produce something better right now.


Some people are lucky. Some are born lucky. Some invent luck as they go along. I was born lucky. I was born into a lucky household. A good household. Brought up on morals, and good thoughts and ideas. Maybe too right, but they were better than other households. How can you create this luck? Where do you acquire it from? Can you purchase it at the supermarket? Can you order it online? Can you pay for it with your credit card? No. No, you cannot charge it. It doesn’t exist, meaning, its invisible, its not an object, its a term. It’s like being fat, or unattractive, or tall and dark haired, it is a description, without definition, it just is. What is the color black? How do you describe it to someone who hasn’t seen color before?

A friend of mine said, as we played a few rounds of bowling between the five of us tonight, “You think too much.”

This was in response to him spotting a cute girl nearby, to which I said “Yeah. Too bad that asshole next to her is her boyfriend,” to which he replied, “That shouldnt stop you.”

So I said “No but his fist will stop me.”

“Yeah but there’s five of us here, we got your back.”

“But what if he’s got four of his friends out back?”

“Man, you think too much!” he said to me finally.

Yeah. I do think too much. Right now, what am I doing? I’m thinking real hard. Real hard of something witty to say so that more people will follow me. Like anyone really gives a damn.

Good night lovebirds.