Woody allen

Saw his film “Tall dark stranger” tonight. It’s not Manhattan or Hannah and her sisters, but still pretty good. He’s still got it.



Rap music

Modern day rap music is for PUSSIES. And if you like modern rap, then you are a PUSSY. Want to hear real rap?



Everybody wants to move on. Everybody wants to know how to move on from a relationship, but nobody knows how to. Everyone wants to know though, “how do I move on?”, “how do I move forward?” In the end, we all get hurt. Some of us move on, find someone new, learn to forget and stay happy. Other people don’t forget. They can’t forget. As much as they try to forget, they remember. Suddenly their capacity to remember is at an all time high and you simply cannot forget no matter how many cigarettes you smoke, no matter how many beers you drink, or how many scoops of vanilla ice cream you force into your mouth, you cannot forget, and you die alone and in misery.

Pump up the volume

In real life, the least popular person will sit across from you in class and try to casually look at you from afar. He will try to admire your looks, your beauty. But then you turn around and see him. And he tries to smile at you, but it comes out the wrong way and you think to yourself “God, how pathetic”. Then he looks away… and he never looks back at you again.

(From the film Pump Up the Volume)


My mom’s best friend died yesterday. cancer. fucking cancer. isnt it num 1 amongst killers in america? or is it heart disease? i know theyre having a competition to see which disease could kill more. but anyway shes known my mother and family for 20 yrs. my parents first friends in america. i remember a kid she had a store, where she sold used clothing. my mom worked for free at first. then worked hard to get promoted to a paying job. after some years my mom moved on to other things, but their friendship remained intact. they were observant Jews. good people. not extremely religious, but were certainly very close with God.

and um.. well one day in “the basement” (the store was in the basement of a building.) , I had my favorite leather jacket with me. Brown. Very cool. I was 6 or something. But I remember this jacket and… one day I took it off down there and some woman off the street thought it was used clothing being sold there and my mothers friend didn’t know it was mine and she sold it. I cried. I was so sad. I was so sad. My favorite jacket. Gone. For good. Its probably 50 feet away from me right now, but I will NEVER SEE IT AGAIN. Anyway that’s something I always retained in my memory. I had a bar mitzvah in the synagogue her husband was president of. We moved from that neighborhood eventually but still remained friends ,still went all the way the shul on some Saturdays for shabbos. I remembered walking by the fence that led to the synagogue which was so old and worn down and in the middle of shit land. I mean a bunch of hoodlums and gangsters. What a place for a synagogue, right? Anyway now 20 years of friendship later she develops cancer. 6 months ago. it was slow and painful. I did not see her during this period of time. she died yesterday. 65 years old. That’s it. She’s with God now.

p.s. sorry for poor punctuation and grammar. will b better next time, promise.


There is nothing genuine about the film business. Nothing. Its all a charade. A façade. All those smiling faces you see? It’s a circus. Its an act. A show. A performance. Real life is a movie. Which means our destinies are still awaiting us, even though they are already set in place. Even though its out there, its just waiting for us to experience it. That’s all time is. It’s a cocktease. The whole industry is a joke. A mask. And you have to mask everything. You always need to make things so simple and dumb. Something very showy and presentable. And I hate that. Its not real or genuine. its plastic. its rubber.