Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Wake up Call

I set 5 alarms every day before I go to bed. I used to always use Siri to set these alarms but it seems that Siri has not endured a year of blackouts as well as I have. Just as I wake up slightly more damaged, emotionally and physically every Monday morning, my iPhone just looks and acts a little shittier. I have taken this on as a personification of my lifestyle, and whereas my physical wear and tear is largely internalized, it seems that my iPhone is like my Dorian Grey mirror. Another crack in the glass every time I do blow off a prostitute's tits.

But anyway, these alarms I set, are with the most ambitious of plans. Because it's easy to plan to attack the future when you're playing video games at 4am on a school night. "Oh sure I was a piece of shit tonight, but TOMORROW, just wait, I'm going to be a star.

FIRST ALARM ~ 3 hours before I need to be at work.
The first alarm or the "Seize the day alarm" if you will usually falls between 5 and 7 in the morning. What I anticipate doing if I wake up for this alarm is typically starting things off with a morning jog. Maybe I stroll down to Abbot Kinney and order a proper breakfast while reading a morning paper. I'll take my iPad, read a script, perhaps do a little work on my own spec. I can go on a bike ride around the neighborhood and marvel at the beauty of Los Angeles. By the time I leave for work and arrive early I have time to go next door for a pumpkin spice latte. I am ready to conquer the shit out of this day.
But the reality is...ya fucking right. I've done this maybe once. In sounds great in theory but really, another hour of sleep sounds much better.

SECOND ALARM ~ 2 hours before work
The second alarm is, ok I'm going to get up and do some shit around the house. Watch last night's episode of the Daily Show, do some laundry, clean the apartment. Basically this is the alarm of compromise. Why do my dirty dishes when I'm stoned laying down on the couch watching reruns of the League when I can get up and clean the apartment in the morning when I'm well rested?
Besides, I was having a dream and in it my life was a lot more exciting than the reality I live in. SNOOZE.

THIRD ALARM ~ 75 minutes before work
Every day at around noon when I'm ingesting my 7th slice of pizza, I tell myself "It's ok, I'm not going to get fat, I'll go to the gym after work." But then when I get home I am tired as shit or ANYTHING better comes along and I'm like fuck that, I'm going to get drunk. I'll go work out in the morning. To my credit, about 10% of the time I actually trudge to the gym and do 15 minutes of lifting (biceps, triceps, chest) and leave. But you better believe I tell everyone that will listen. OH I WENT TO THE GYM TODAY. Because that's why I do it. So I can tell people I did it, and so I feel better about myself. My current lifestyle is unsustainable. It works only because I'm young. I'm probably 4 years away from having a body mass index in the high 40's...especially because most mornings I say "fuck the gym, I'll go tomorrow."

FOURTH ALARM ~ 50 minutes before work
This is the alarm that allows me time to take a 6 minute shower (10 if I choose to beat off) get dressed, and maybe check my email before sprinting out the door. I have a reasonable chance of making it in on time if there is no traffic and some fucktard didn't cause a 14 person pile up whilst texting and driving. (Note: there is always traffic and a 14 car pile-up) The shower is always a depressing shower, I sit there and think about all the cool shit I DIDN'T do that morning so I could get like 1 more hour of sleep. I don't even finish half of my attempted masturbatory sessions because I'm so sad. And the thing is I'm still tired as shit. When you're laying in bed, you think that last hour matters, but waking up just straight up sucks. No matter when. Even dragging myself out of bed at 2pm on Sunday is sometimes difficult. I'm just not a morning person.

FIFTH ALARM ~ 30 minutes before work
This is definitely the OH SHIT alarm. The last line of defense. This involves me jumping out of bed, no shower, wear what I wore yesterday, spray some cologne and go. I have precisely 90 seconds to get in my car and be driving before I enter the totally fucked zone. It takes me about 40 minutes to get to work, but people usually don't say anything until I'm more than 10 minutes late.

The thing about the 5th alarm is often times I'm in traffic, so I have this system where I take screenshots of my phone to show horrible accidents on google maps to prove that there is NO WAY it's my fault that I'm late.

And I know what you're thinking, what if you're just running really late and there is no bad traffic with which to screenshot and send to supervisor? I thought of that! So I have recently started just screenshotting bad traffic at all times and stashing them for emergencies. A car exploded 2 weeks ago on the 101, I was at home but I heard about it on the news, so I found that section of freeway and took a picture, saving it for later. There was a wildfire earlier this year that completely closed the freeway, I've got that ace in the hole waiting too. Because if you're going to lie, you have to just fully commit to that story and roll with it.

So ya, what's the takeaway from this? That I am a piece of shit? Probably. But upon further review it is just an indictment on my motivation.

All these articles have been floating around the internet lately about why gen Y is as a whole such a whiny little bitch. The thesis statement is that we are unhappy because we were spoon fed all this bullshit growing up about how we were so special and how great our life was going to be...and it hasn't worked out necessarily the way we had planned, leaving us all a tad unfulfilled.

I was told that I would have wealth and happiness beyond my wildest dreams, yet I'm still flying Spirit Airlines back to Chicago for a wedding.

However, along the way, I experienced a paradigm shift in my point of view. Whereas when I was 22 I expected everything was going to be great because I was David Moeller and everyone loves me, the cocky confidence and peachy optimism eroded as I grew older. Now I kind of just expect things to suck. I am 26 and jaded, reality flame...extinguished.

But recently something strange happened. I realized just how shitty everyone else's life was as well.

When you live in LA, you get used to disappointment, it happens every day. Older people dehumanize you as you climb the corporate ladder but it stings worse because you know what it's like on top. That may sound childish but when you walk on water throughout your college career and then a bunch of people in middle management constantly knock you down it can be demoralizing.

But...just like college, high school, any social organization with some social/professional heirarchy, you realize that the people who give you shit are the ones who are unfulfilled themselves. In the world of entertainment I am essentially a pawn, a plebian, a peasant, a pledge. Something to be sacrificed for the good of those in power. But while the king is busy getting his dick sucked and couldn't give two shits about me, it's the unhappy sophomore whose girlfriend cheated on him or the unmarried 50 year old production supervisor that never quite made it as a writer, these are the people that spew their bitterness on the people below them in an attempt to drag them down to a certain level of spite.

Once you realize this, you wield all the power. The same people that used to drag me down have unintentionally given me this strange sense of hope. While I am on the ground floor and subservent to middle management...I still have a chance. They lost, they came up short of their dream. I'm still in the first quarter.

I was starting to think that maybe I really wasn't talented, I was just some dough eyed kid from the midwest addicted to partying and writing scripts about a lost generation doing a bunch of drugs and trying to figure it all out. But at least we won't wake up in 20 years and be bitter and alone, getting our rocks off dragging our subordinates down. The coolest people I know in LA are the people on the top, they're not envious of talent or threatened by charisma. And that's probably what makes them successful, they keep their eye on the prize.

A really smart guy I know told me three things that I think of every day. When you're ready to stop partying, call it quits. Don't jump off of high shit. Be nice to people. Maybe that's all there is to it. Maybe my crusade of anger that I AM GOING TO SUCCEED in spite of you, is not the best way to go about things. Instead of fantasizing about telling all the people who wronged me on the way up to suck it; perhaps I should fantasize about inviting all the people that helped me along to an amazing party where I say thank you.

And look, I know I suck still. My writing is not great. My work ethic is meh. But you know what? Everyone else's writing fucking sucks too. There are only a few Charlie Kaufmans out there, and a thousand other writers thats are just good enough to get shit made. And maybe that's all I need to be. Maybe I would get to where I'm trying to be quicker if I was more of that first alarm guy. Or maybe the fact that I go out drinking on Tuesday nights with my buddies and quote shitty 90s movies at a pub (BODHI THIS IS YOUR FUCKING WAKE UP CALL MAN, I AM AN F B I AGENT) leading me to be an hour late and 2 days hungover, will allow me to not take myself too seriously and make a career out of this some day. But until then best believe I'm hitting snooze.

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

5 misconceptions about LA

I just discovered Candy Crush. I realize that I am about a year late on this, but rest assured my work productivity has plummeted. I am now taking an average of 3 shits per day with an average length of 20 minutes. The design.ers of this game are raging cunts. Every level past 30 is nearly impossible without power-ups. And of course these power ups can only be attained by the old in-app purchase.

I have never made an in-app purchase, I feel like the people that pour money into that business model are just the scum of the Earth. I think about some overweight lower middle class girl named Takwanda buying a bunch of extra lives on her hand me down 3Gs and then getting yelled at by her her mom (dad isn't around) for spending 20 bucks in the iTunes store. Anyway, for days, I was using up all my free lives on this insanely difficult level. After I would use up all my free lives, I would stare at the countdown for 10 minutes until I was granted another free life...only to fail again. Eventually I cracked. I purchased an extra life for .99 cents because I was so so so close to beating this level. As you can imagine, I failed even with my paid life and I felt the most reprehensible shame of my life (and I have done some fairly fucked up shit) this feeling was exacerbated when I fell over leaving the stall due to the fact that my legs had fallen asleep due to the extended length I had spent in the restroom. I deserved it.

Anyway, while I was waiting for my candy crush lives to regenerate I had this idea, so on with the list of 5 misconceptions about Los Angeles.

5. Actresses/models are a big deal

Last week at work some actress left her iPad on stage and called the production office looking for help finding it. I answered, I went to stage, I attempted to find said iPad and failed. Somehow though I established a dialogue with this girl and she assured me her iPad was still on the premises, forwarding me screenshots of her find my iPhone and what not. I eventually invited her onto the lot so we could look together. She found it within 5 minutes and was so overjoyed that she offered to take ME out for drinks.

I should mention at this point that this chick was fucking hot. She's a struggling actress who is going to get to pay rent this month because she was paid the SAG minimum $859 (plus 10% agency fee) for her portrayal as Girl #2.

But of course I never called her because I am a huge fucking coward and I felt intimidated by her. It turns out she is also a model and her tits can be seen all over the internet, and she's playing a hooker in Sons of Anarchy all week. But also she's probably a little sad that the Ironside PA that helped her find her iPad never called. Because that's the thing about actresses and models. They really aren't shit. They are just struggling 20somethings like the rest of us, they just have more upside. This chick is a bartender on the side and probably lives in a shitty studio apartment in Hollywood with 3 other girls. She probably won't make it, but she might blow up and become the next Jennifer Lawrence. And had I called her there is like a 2% chance that I would have eventually banged her, and then when she became the next Jennifer Lawrence, the REST of my life I would wear that on my sleeve.

I guarantee you Jennifer Lawrence banged a PA when she was on the Bill Engvall show. And you know what? No one can ever take that away from that dude. He probably rolls around LA telling anyone who will listen that he fucked Katniss when she was 19, and even if the rest of his life turns out shitty he can close his eyes and jerk off to that memory every night before he goes to bed.

Main takeaway, don't be afraid to date a struggling actress, the story could pay dividends later.

4. People in LA are beautiful.
This is simply a fallacy. People in Los Angeles are no more attractive than anywhere else in the world. Hollywood is dominated by short, balding, old men. Do you know why the stereotype of a Hollywood agent is an angry man running around screaming? Pent up aggression from years of getting teased by Jason Segal and a then hetero Jason Collins at Harvard Westlake. Money can't buy you a career and popularity at 15 no matter where you live...but in the end Jason Collins is now a free agent and the bald angry man is a partner at UTA with a 19 year old Brazilian girlfriend.

The people you see on TV are attractive, the beach attracts a photogenic crowd but that's any beach in the world. You know who doesn't go to the beach? Fat people. Fat people are embarrassed about their weight, they do not want to voluntarily go to a location where people are encouraged to wear as little clothing as possible. The beach is for tourists, west siders and poor families from East LA that bus there because it is a free event for the whole family. Ever seen Dockweiler on a Saturday? It looks like a fucking Rodney King rally.

The thing is, I wish everyone in LA was ridiculously good looking, but I am legit the most eligible bachelor at my workplace. I feel bad for al the girls, I am like a 6 at best, and I am their best option. I wasn't even top 50% in my Bloomington, IN. I would argue that 47401 is one of the nations most beautiful zip codes.

3. Living in LA is sooooo expensive.
It's really not that bad. I live in one of the most desirable neighborhoods in LA, 4 blocks from the beach, have my own bedroom and pay $850 a month in rent. Pretty much any large city in the country is standard on $6 a beer at a bar, 4 dollars a gallon in gas, $50 a gram for blow...except the pot is way cheaper here, because it's legal.

That's how normal people define cost of living right? Gas, rent and vices? I suppose if you factor in your guaranteed DUI your first 3 years living here, you can add a quick 10 grand in legal fees onto that. But seriously, compared to New York, LA is pennies. Sure if you live in West Hollywood and have hardwood floors and granite countertops you pay more in rent than my parents do on their mortgage, but West Hollywood is fucking gay (both literally and figuratively) move to Santa Monica, get some cool roommates and sustain a lifestyle where 1000 in rent is a reasonable expectation.

I meet people my age who live in the valley because it is "affordable." I just want to fucking shake them. YOU ARE WASTING YOUR LIFE. "Ya, but I'm saving so much money."

For what? What the fuck do you have to save money for when you are 25? Looking into buying a house? Good fucking luck. A million dollars will get you a 2 bedroom cottage in Burbank and a lifetime full of jeers because you live in fucking Burbank. Just move to Venice and rent until you sell a few scripts. Then you can buy a condo on the beach...straight cash homey.

2. Hollywood is so cool, it's where all the famous people hang out.
I give the East side of LA a ton of shit. I think the people there look funny, they smell bad, they have facial hair. It's entirely not for me. Why the fuck would you move from the midwest and make it all the way to a coastal mecca and decide to still live an hour away from the beach...where you can see blondies in bikinis rollerblade all day? Oh because of Silverlake's emerging underground ska scene? Cool story bro.

That said, even my east side counterparts would agree that Hollywood is a terrible place where dreams go to die. Hollywood was probably very cool in the late 1930's. The sign was there, all the studios were there. Movie stars, the hustle and bustle of the entertainment industry...such a great post depression era town.

But now it's home to meth heads and Japanese tourists. It's literally a fucking hell hole. There is one square block with a couple movie theatres and a mall that is probably safe for a single white woman to walk between the hours of noon and 4pm, aside from that, it is the physical embodiment of AIDS.
Literally I would treat it like a goddamn demilitarized zone, if it didn't have a Chick Fil-a and a B dubbs.

Attractive actor types hang out in West Hollywood, every cool production company is in Santa Monica. The studios and networks are in the valley. And I don't even need to go to Hollywood anymore for Chick Fil-a, they opened one in Westwood...and I would literally rather drive to fucking South Central to get my bdubbs on. At least black people don't mess with white people, they keep their violence inside the race. Crack heads though, they're wild cards.

While it may have been cool once upon a time, I would advise against ever entering the box that is Franklin, La Brea, Melrose and Vermont.

1. Everyone in Los Angeles has a drug problem.
When I got to LA, I couldn't wait to go to a fancy night club and watch Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan throw down an 8ball on their table and just start going to town, NOT GIVING A FUCK. I also waited patiently for one of those crazy nights that I ended up in Leonardo DiCaprio's villa in the Hollywood Hills, naked in an olympic sized hot tub with 40 people while Tobey Maguire was dishing out hits up whip its.

It didn't happen. The problem is. As stated earlier, most famous folk are generally fairly normal. They might be married with kids or perhaps hang out at places where they don't get mobbed by paparazzi and adoring starfucking fans. I have ended up at "crazy houses in the hills" but it's usually at like some trust fund kid's house and it's pretty lame. A bunch of losers sitting around talking about all their "projects in development."

The problem is, as much money as their is in LA, it's not controlled exclusively by the Biebers of the world. It's controlled by real estate moguls and 60 year old writer/producers that you've never heard of. And while celebrities can be sighted at a local watering hole once in a while, in an age of camera phones, they usually aren't acting a fool.

Maybe I'm not running in the proper circles yet, everyone seems to have a story about how they smoked pot with Snoop Dogg or had a Molly induced non committal make out with the hot daughter on Modern Family at Coachella...I know a guy who banged the cheerleader from Heroes...that's about it. As much as I would love to tell you I went on a coke bender with Zac Efron that would be just as much a lie as saying I banged the next Jennifer Lawrence.

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Blowjobs or cheese

I've been thinking for over a week now about how I was going to write about my labor day trip to Palm Springs. I could post a ton of pictures showing our gorgeous house and amenities. I could talk about the food we cooked and how fucked up we got at the dilapidated Ace Hotel. But I eventually came to the conclusion that no one really gives a fuck about my trip.

Hearing about someone else's vacation is like having your buddy describe in detail what sex is like with his girlfriend. No one wants to hear about that shit. Now I'll listen to stories about your sex with some slutty coworker or an infidelity with a married woman, but don't tell me you lasted 20 sober minutes missionary with your girlfriend. 

It's the same with other people's kids. I assume one day I will have children of my own and I will love them very much and buy them tiny polo shirts and tiny Sperry's and I will be the "cool dad." But FUCK other people's kids. Kids are the fucking worst. They are annoying, they're ugly, they're expensive. I used to get super shitty when my dad wouldn't let me have friends over. But now I totally get it. He had worked all week and just wanted to watch a Western and go to sleep...not listen to five 12 year olds hopped up on caffeine have a Goldeneye tournament in the basement.

So yes, this is what I think about when I see your fucking vacation photos and your babies blasted all over Facebook. I think about how my dad was right. Like I imagine if someone tried to tell me about their labor day vacation it would go like this.

Bro: Bro, Hawaii was so sick! I hiked an active volcano, swam with dolphins and went surfing every day! How was your weekend?

Me: It was great, I jerked off 3 times during one shower while thinking about your mom. (Simulated masturbation with a mimed cumshot at his face)

I am just incapable of being happy for others I guess. But I am also fair! Thus, I shall save you the boring details of my vacation and get to the most important revelation that came of it. (Aside from a member of our crew failing to put down a finger at "Never have I ever masturbated more than once in a day" that's either a miracle or a fucking lie...even when I have a girlfriend I occasionally fuck around with a multi-dayer for sport)

A few weeks ago I was asked, "would you rather give up blowjobs or cheese for life?" Apparently this is an age old question that guys have been asking each other for years over a few casual pints. And every time it has ever happened the immediate answer is "FUUUUUUCK cheese, getting your dick sucked is awesome bro!" And everyone kind of nods in agreement.

However, for the first time in my life, I bit my tongue. I chose instead to ponder this for a very long time. See, I fucking love cheese. I love all types of cheese. My favorite food in the world is cottage cheese, but I also have fond memories of growing up and banging out about 8-12 boxes of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, weekly. I like cheese pizza, I get two meatball subs with pepperjack cheese from my local Subway every Sunday. And I don't think I have gone a full 72 hours in the last 10 years without getting a Double Cheeseburger from McDonalds. I do fucking cheese power rankings/drafts with my friends for fun (Sharp cheddar always goes first, but somehow I always snag provolone in the later rounds)

You see it is one of the most important things in my life. I frequently tell people who are lactose intollerant that they should just straight up kill themselves. Send yourself to Belize because a life without cheese is not worth living.

Now on the other side...and if you don't want a visual of me receiving oral sex that's fine...skip the next 4 paragraphs.

I am quite well versed in the blowjob as well. I got my first at 16 giving a girl a ride home. My buddy showed her his dick and somehow I ended up getting a bj while said buddy had to sit in the back seat and shamefully watch. She later joined a top tier sorority at IU and I counted it on my sorority hook up list. The whole thing was just a big win for me.

In the years after I got many many more, partly because I skewed towards the one night stand types, and partly because I primarily sought them out during college. Three things stopped me from having sex with 100 people in college: 1. Fear of std's 2. Fear of pregnancy 3. A stage 5 case of whiskey dick. I would usually say to girls some bullshit like "I don't have a condom, or sex causes too many strings in feelings." The truth was I just didn't want to, or I had been drinking and I didn't want you to run back to your sorority and tell everyone my dick didn't work. If I did have sex with you, congratulations. That means I was fairly sure you didn't have AIDS...and had I knocked you up I was either fairly certain you would pay for the abortion yourself or that we would get married and your rich parents would buy us a house and get me a job.

I know. I'm a terrible person.

But moving on. Blowjobs are great, no one disputes this. No one will tell you that blowjobs are fucking terrible, no one is trying to ban them. But this is the dirty little secret. Blowjobs are severely overrated.

I'm going to draw a little metaphor here, now stay with me. When I was 11 years old, I was on this baseball team that had a very primitive reward based system, pieces of gum. When you got an at-bat you would get a piece of gum for every base you touched and every run you drove in. Example: a double = 2 pieces of gum, a 2 run home run would be 6. I was a hitting GOD at 11 so I always had the biggest fucking mouthful of gum. But here's the thing. The gum we got were those little white gumballs that were engineered to look like baseballs and they had little baseball terms on them. "Grand slam" and "Strike" I LOVED getting those baseballs. I would argue with the team mom whether I should get an extra piece of gum because a run scored during a wild pitch on my at bat. (THATS ANOTHER RBI MOTHERFUCKER GIVE ME THAT GUM)

But the gum itself of course was the worst fucking thing on the planet. It had this faux peppermint flavoring that would go away quicker than fucking Fruit Stripes. It was worse than Bazooka Joe or Double Bubble...but I LIVED for those fucking gumballs. It was like whoever had the biggest wad of gum in their mouth at the end of the game, was the biggest man.

Which takes us back to the blowjob. The idea is great. 10 minutes of effortless pleasure looking at the top of some girls dome whilst she services you. But in practice, after it's over I just can't help but worry about whether she is going to try to kiss me with my own semen. I just want to rush out the door and high five the first guy I see...and of course I'll know that if one of my buddies/enemies ever kisses her I can throw out a "How's my dick taste!?!?!"

But that's really it. And also think about this. I am 26, most of my blowjob days are over. I would like to think that my future girlfriends/wife and I will be sexually active well into our 40's...but come on, I've got like 5 years of bjs left MAX and thats IF I roll with a younger crowd. Once you get wifed up, the party is over. Once a year on your birthday, if you're lucky.

Unless you married a slut that loves sucking dick. But if that's the case she's probably a slut and will suck other dicks, that's a whole different issue.

And you would be giving up a LIFETIME of cheese? For your annual blowjob? 

Want that bagel w/ cream cheese to help kill a hangover? NOPE
Like to sample the brie at a fancy dinner party? FUCKED
Cheesecake? RRRRRNT
Going back to IU for a football game and can't wait to get some Uncle D's? Try the new vegan place dickhead.

No cheez its, no goldfish, no queso dip.

Life really wouldn't be worth living.

There is a scene in the movie Garden State where Braff's psychiatrist says after he caught his wife in bed with another man he didn't get an erection for 5 years.

Try sporting some wood knowing that you will never have nachos again! Ponder that while you're delivering your annual flaccid throat fuck.

Guys, upon further's not even close. Blowjobs can take a hike. You are still more than welcome to explore every other orifice of a woman's body. Lube it up and hit the back door, titty fuck it up and give some pearl necklaces. Try bagpiping! Or maybe, just maybe experience the old school joy of good old fashioned vaginal sex. And then have yourself a cigarette and a nice grilled havarti sandwhich, because you have fucking earned it.

A knockout win for cheese in the middle of the 3rd. And this was the case I made to my friends while on vacation in the desert.

So for those of you thinking TL;DR let me sum it up for you cheese > blowjobs.

Now dairy vs. sex...
That's a debate I'm just not ready for.