Clawing to escape the belly of the beast here in Hollywood. To commiserate, email my name assistantatlas at yahoo.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Dear China, You Suck At PR: 3.50

Dear China,

Yeah, that's right, people of the People's Republic of China- mainland version- I'm talking to you. I know you're all Communist and stuff, but come on, it's PR. If you can launch satellites, you should be able to write a friggin' press release. Now, I know that pulling off Lohan-level spin requires a certain finesse, and that can only come with lots of experience, but basic spin is for everyone!

I can't be the only person out there in Ho'wood who realizes you suck at PR. Perhaps there aren't a ton of global-dialing young executives/assistants out there, but sweet Jesus, believe me that China sucks. It's impossible to find anyone who's even vaguely useful in any way on the phone, and emails get bounced-- always. Okay, yeah, so you're a dictatorship, but so is like every country we're friends with in the Middle East. . . well, except Israel. But I'm not writing an open letter to Dubai, am I? You've never seen me complain about , have you?

<--Dubai is sweet.

Dubai, part of the United Arab Emirates, is kinda dictatorial, maybe not quite as bad as , but have you ever tried to obtain information from Dubai? Find someone who has excellent English skills? Schedule a meeting? (by the way, yes, they are pretty much on the exact opposite time zone from us here in LA) Or yes, get a press release. As Alison Janney says in Drop Dead Gorgeous, "Easy as pie."

But that's not the point, is it? The point is, democracies may inherently be better at PR than dictatorships, but China sucks. Actually, if you think about it, Hollywood actually should be one of the most anti-China industries-- and they kinda are. About piracy. The movie barons are curiously mum about censorship-- not that it'd probably do any good, but we could still do better than Richard Gere. You know, as an industry. Fortunately for China, we're bigger fans of money than principle here in Ho'wood. If you doubt China needs PR help, read this article.

Now shape up, Communists! You don't want the Chinese taking over the go-to-bad-guy role in movies do you? Because you're thisclose. Oh, that and you're apparently not far from having some Congressional whupass potentially busted. Oh China, you think there's nothing they can do to a big-boy country like you, but they can legislate up a big pain in your butt, enema-style, biyotches.

So take my advice because Congressional enemas are not pleasant. Learn to navigate the choppy waters of public opinion now, or face capsizing in a storm.


PS: Let the guessing at my occupation begin anew. I love it when you guys do that. . . in that sort of rollercoaster-oh-God-oh-God-what-if-someone-actually-gets-it way.

Monday, November 28, 2005

You Make the Call Game: Hey Kiddies!

Welcome back, friends. That was a long, long weekend, and not particularly relaxing. It never is when you've got deadlines. But let's take some time out of our hectic day to dream, shall we?

Let's pretend we're just a few phone calls away from making a movie. The assistants are primed, the lawyers are contract-ready, and the financing is in place. Yippee-ki-yay, Bruce Willis.

So the question for you is, who gets the call?

The script du jour is a family-friendly flick-- which are going to saturate the market until people stop having children whom they constantly need to sate with entertainment, so, forever-- with wide-eyed newcomer kids (just try getting Dakota Fanning, just try) who need the steady BO-building hands of some seasoned pros. So who will it be to guarantee your kiddie flick will reap critical and/or commercial success?

Matthew McConaughey Vs. Jack Black Vs. Dax Shephard

Matthew could use a blockbuster hit to cement his box office draw status, and we know Jack Black is a hit with the kids thanks to the immeasurably-sweet School of Rock. Of course, if you want to keep costs down, there's always Dax.

Glenn Close Vs. Jennifer Coolidge Vs. Jennifer Saunders

Fine actress that she is, Glenn has gone past Ho'wood's death age for female actresses (40) and could probably use the big-screen work. Jennifer Coolidge is an underrated comedic force, but she has played an evil stepmother well in the Hilary Duff starrer A Cinderella Story. And um, I only watched that movie for her. Yeah, I'm going with that story. Jennifer Saunders is my dark horse candidate, but she does have some bad-guy cred after voicing the evil fairy godmother in Shrek 2.

Sally Field Vs. Glenn Close Vs. Betty White

Have you seen Sally Field lately? Girl could use some work. Again, versatile actress Glenn Close could probably work well in either role, so be sure to specify which role you want her in. Assume she'd be equally likely to take either one. Finally, Betty White, the most hilarious of The Golden Girls, which has been hugely successful in syndication, racking up big, and surprisingly young, numbers. So will Betty White be your big-screen pick?
Hey Betty!
Comment lines are now open-- so who gets the call?

Thursday, November 24, 2005

The Stream of Consciousness Thanksgiving

Everyone likes stream of consciousness, right? It was always everybody's favorite in English class. Of course, that may have just been because USC students excel at laziness. Myself included, of course. I didn't realize that I hadn't posted my Happy Thanksgiving wishes to you. This year, I wrote everything I could think that I was thankful for in five minutes. Try it, it's fun. But I thought you kids would like to know. I'm of course thankful that you're reading, too. [wink]

So here's everything I could type in five minutes that I'm thankful for:

Mom, Dad, brother, whole family, writing, books, Douglas Coupland, too many authors to name, pie, cake, candy especially Starburst Skittles and Reese's, chocolate, marshmallows, girls on bicycles, french toast, early morning frost, jump-ropes, Baywatch, Buffy, Joss Whedon, JJ Abrams, Nikki Giovanni, cotton candy, funnel cakes, bebop & jazz, barbecue, pogo sticks, Slinkys, coke, Coca-Cola, marijuana, the Netherlands, the French, perfumes, women's curves, women's everything, fireplaces, hot chocolate, falling leaves, snowflakes, Veronica Mars, Wendy's 99-cent value menu.

And I can't believe time ran out right after Wendy' 99-cent value menu, because as much as I am thankful it exists, it kinda pales to a lot of the other stuff. If only I'd been thankful for puppies last or something. You know, just so I look like less of a douche. But whatever, that's just a peril of the stream of consciousness Thanksgiving.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Hollywood Assistant=Whore: 3.49

Yeah, I promised you a You Make the Call Game. You'll get it, all in due time. Right now, though, I'm going to do what you've wanted me to do for awhile-- get back to talking about my job and how much the godforsaken entertainment bizsnatch blows donkey balls.

That's right, I'm unleashing the terrible fury that has been slowly building inside me. Sure, it's a spur-of-the-moment decision I may regret, but f**k it. I'm just pissed off that, yet again, I must be a complete b*tch of this stupid industry.

Now, if you don't remember my old boss, Sloane (and I know you bastards love him), you'll want to read about How Blogging Saved My Career. It was a seminal post for yours truly, and I thought it marked the end of my b*tchdom.

I was wrong. So very wrong.

For you see, being an assistant is very much like being a whore. Even after you've left the profession behind, it still haunts your life and often, your career. That is where I find myself--tainted by my servile past. Too ready to bend over for The Man.

MDJKFXNL, I cry, mashing my fists against the keyboard. Why must my career be a path of pain?

My new job is great, except for a few big exceptions. I like what I do, generally, and it's nice to be paid to write. But Exception #1 is that I work all the time. Seriously, on the weekends, after work, probably 60-70 hours/week, if I include things like my commute and all reading time. Exception #2 is that my creativity-- one of my best features as an employee-- is constantly undermined at nearly every turn. By budgets and by resources, but mainly, by lack of time to properly to develop my ideas. Exception #3 is the massive headache of being constantly second-guessed. And Exception #4 belongs to the "24/7, Your Time Is Mine" rule whereby I am expected to drop my entire life- frequently- to do whatever is "needed". And sadly, the phrase "A lack of planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part" will get me fired.

Look, I know I chose to be a b*tch. But I don't have to like it. And as you can see, I apparently can't keep quiet about it anymore.

Mood: Pensive, Forlorn, Tempest-tossed, Adrift

Monday, November 21, 2005

You Are Allowed To Buy Me Off

Many of you may have noticed the changes to the sidebar. I've alphabetized my Blogrolodex and re-organized my ads. Please note my ad policy: You are allowed to buy me off, but I'm going to disclose that I'm being nice to you because you're paying me. That's the deal. Kiddin'.

Naw, seriously, folks, I'm going to start hawking some ad space on this piece to perhaps replace those Google Ads because they just ain't working for me anymore. That's why I've joined Blogads. And my first sponsor through BlogAds is "White Trash Palace". That's why they've got those spiffy new ads in my sidebar. They're for White Trash Palace, which sells such amusing items as t-shirts with "Don't Drink and Dial" on them.

In Assistant/Atlas personal life news, my job, which can now no longer be called 'new', has me chained to a computer in a deep, dark hole for hours upon hours. And I now truly understand why they make jokes about things like this. It's friggin' scary. But nothing your assistant superhero can't handle. Just means I haven't had a lot of free time.

And with my free time I do have, honestly, I've been having enough sex to make my d*ck fall off.

Which should also explain why the blogging has been lacking. I'm not upset about it, but I know that you, my precious, high-strung readers, might soon be, so don't worry. I'll make sure to do one of my ever-popular You Make the Call Game(s) ready for this evening. You'll potentially get to play against hundreds of people from all over the world. Ed. note- Yes, I See You! And bring on the sell-out accusations- I'm ready!

But for now, to tide my loyal legions over, a quiz.

Why did BNC (Bragman-Nyman-Cafarelli) and Jessica Simpson part ways?

a. BNC couldn't get a more lucrative publicity lock on the Simpson family and grew tired of the lack of income.
b. BNC grew tired of dealing with Joe Simpson, father and frightmeister.
c. BNC couldn't handle the Simpson-related emergency call volume.
d. BNC has finally taken sides in the Battle of the Jessicas.
e. Atlas, this is a stupid waste of my time, but I wanted to see what everyone else voted for.
f. Atlas, you can't end a sentence with a preposition.

Feel free to discuss in the comments section. And don't have a case of the Mondays.

Thursday, November 17, 2005

Sarah Silverman, I Give In

Credit her darn publicists with sending me hot photos, my friends for chattering constantly about her, and my past experiences with her stand-up, I like me some . that is.

She has a movie, Jesus Is Magic. I admit I haven't seen it yet, but the true twenty-something buzz is it's outrageously hilarious. So go see it.

This is so hot.
Seriously, HOT. And funny. Mostly though, it's hot.

Why are you married to Jimmy Kimmel? You don't need him anymore. Okay, maybe a little, but seriously, think about the publicity that a bitter, angry divorce could generate. Hell, even a believably fake one-- I'm betting it might be enough to make you very close to A-List, Sarah. It'd certainly put you on the short-list for entry. Jimmy's peaked sweetheart, come to Atlas. Come to Atlas. Okay, even I know that's starting to be weird.

But seriously-- semi-perma-celebrity and my undying love. That's reason enough for a bitter, angry divorce, right?

In mildly related news, (hint: you'll have to keep reading to see how it's related) here is the official Assistant/Atlas review of "The Colbert Report":
It's pretty good.
Anyone who thinks "The Word" isn't funny has a poor sense of humor. Frankly, Stephen Colbert has gotten smoother as the show has gone on. And as a fake news anchor, he's seriously Barry White territory.
And that's smooth.
But , please, take my advice. Get a . Personally, I'd recommend Sarah Silverman. No, seriously. Just let her come on the show and deliver Lewis Black-like editorials every once in awhile. It'd be awesome and it'd give you a few minutes off from your hosting duties. A thirty-minute tv show is a lot to carry by yourself, Stevey-poo, so get some on-air help. It won't take away from your endearingly-pugnacious mug.

Word 'em up.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Reality Writers Are People, Too: 3.48

In a maneuver pulled straight from the reality tv playbook, a reality writer stormed the stage to angrily confront her brutal corporate overlords/transgendered midget whores.

Now, many of you may be asking-- Atlas, what exactly is a 'reality writer'? Doesn't reality tend to just kinda write itself? And did you just call Peter Ligouri a transgendered midget whore?

To you I say, oh my precious reader, how naive you are. Not to get all professor-y on you, but reality is a construct, and nowhere is that more true that on television.

Did I lose you? It's actually simple. . .

You know those 'interview' segments on shows like "The Amazing Race" and "Survivor" where a contestant raps to the camera about what he/she is thinking? Just off-camera is a reality writer, coaxing the interviewee into discussing something either related to the show or vaguely dramatic. And if you've ever watched one of these shows, I'd say it's amazing they get most of these people to say something coherent, let alone related to the show or vaguely dramatic.

But since labor laws are glacier-slow compared to the rapidly-evolving entertainment industry, reality writers didn't get included under the WGA's protective claws. Hands, protective hands! I'm not a traitor, I swear.

Anyhoo, reality writers won't stop storming press conferences until the following demands are met:
1) More $crilla, biyotches!
2) All reality shows must have no more than 20% of their contestants from the South.
3) Mark Burnett is allowed to break no more than one thumb and two fingers per season.

See, that's pretty reasonable, right? Remember, networks, if demands are not met, reality writers could strike. Which means that reality shows could become even more boringly predictable than they already are.

Monday, November 14, 2005

If LA Bloggers Were LA Restaurants: 3.47

Bloggers tend to be passionate about (or ) other bloggers. I am no exception.

The idea behind this post is to spread the love and suggest some other good sites to peruse on this Friday as you waste time. Plus, mama always told me to be nice.

So where would you like to eat today? And more importantly, where would you like to read?
If LA Bloggers were LA restaurants. . .

Assistant/Atlas=Wildflour Pizza
Well, I am first alphabetically. Plus, I can't talk about everyone else and spare myself, that just wouldn't be fair, would it? I picked Wildflour because, like them, I'm in Santa Monica/Venice and I ain't pretty-- I got sawdust on my blog floor and tables so notched with age you'd be surprised to learn how young they are. But when you get right down to it, what's served ain't bad. In fact sometimes, it's the best pizza in the city. That said, I'm trying to clean up my act, but I'm just a lot more fun when I'm a little dirty. At least, everybody seems to like me that way.

Breakfast at Tiffany's=Sweet Lady Jane's
You can never quite get enough, and yet what you get is almost just too deliciously much every time. Plus, classy-- but refreshingly, not oppressively, so.

All the heavy hitters and players show up here, with questionable results. Oh, don't get me wrong, it's fabulous and all, it's just not the mecca of perfection it's made out to be. Still, I can barely get a table there. And I'm Assistant/Atlas. What chance do you have? It's part of the Gawker Media Empire

Dude, I just love Chano's. I seriously love Chano's. The USC memories I have of it are just like those I have of Dude.Man.Phat: full of warmth and laughter and good feelings in my belly- all for a low, low price. Oh, and both make me phatter.

Feh=The Abbey
This one has recent news: Seth Abramovitch used to run Feh blog. It was vicious, absolutely terribly cruel blog. And it was awesome. Now he's the Associate Editor at Defamer. Seth's a self-described Hollywood triple threat: Gay, Jewish and Canadian--Homojewnadian. Of course, if that weren't enough, since he's the "Associate Editor" [read: assistant] I feel a certain natural sympathy for him. So I'm making him The Abbey, leader of the Weho restaurants in honor of his being catapulted upward in the LA blog hierarchy. Enjoy your time at the top, Seth, and here's to the end of your dry streak. Cheers.

Junk Feud=Pink's
Drunken twentysomethings go there when drunk and love it, and the teenier boppers treat it with reverence. Okay, maybe a stretch, but hey, it is mainly pink. But a good pink, not too eye-gougingly pink like some people.

Kung Fu Monkey=Pacific Dining Car
You might remember John Rogers from writing the Global Frequency pilot. John is a phenomenal blogger, truly top-notch, and puts out stuff you'll be interested in on a regular basis. And sometimes, John will make you realize that he's smarter than you. And you will remember to dress nicer the next time you go to his blog.

Little to No Appeal=Swingers
Please keep in mind that LTNA is the good, coffeeshop/hotel Swingers and not the played-out Santa Monica one. Little to No Appeal is a like a lil servin' of delicious bitter pie with some over-Splenda-ed coffee. Hey man, when you're in the mood for it, you're in the mood. Plus, you know you like the decor. Come on, come on now, you do. The cows, man, it's all about the cows. I'm off-topic, aren't I?

Overeducated and Underemployed=Gyu-Kaku
People you hate grilled to a crisp. Food you'll love grilled to perfection and your own little grill. And you can't spell Megan without MMMM. Granted, you can spell Gyu-Kaku without MMM or Megan, but still, I don't think it's a stretch. Anyhoo, when I'm a mogul, I won't drop Megan from my show. However, Megan, note that karma makes its rounds. The show that cut you got its order cut from 13 to 6. And that's something to celebrate.

Go there and be mesmerized. Look, pretty things, ooooh. At O-Bar, it's the bar. Specifically, that shiny silver bamboo stuff over the bar. At Popbytes, be mesmerized by the pretty site design. Both have nice niblets, but I wouldn't rely on O-Bar for my entire diet nor Popbytes for my entire pop culture one. Still, you'll enjoy your visit.

Query Letters I Love=In 'N Out Burger
Yes, that's right. The coveted burger slot goes to the elusive Empress and the Manager Guy. Why? Well, besides being anonymous like me, they manage to somehow serve up something so perfectly ridiculously good EVERY DARN TIME! It's impressive, really, and I salute both establishments heartily.

Totally Unauthorized=Hugo's
Why: It's industry, without being overpoweringly so. Plus, good variety (of food at Hugo's and post subjects at Peggy's site), pleasant surroundings and Peggy's a peach.

That's it, kids. These are the best of the best I've noticed in the LA blogosphere. Peruse these babies and feel free to suggest your own. That's what comments are for, kiddies.

Saturday, November 12, 2005

Links for Saturday

So I was doing a bit of surfing this morning (because, for once, I don't have to work this weekend) and saw this pretty fair and balanced review of. . .well, reviews on The Boondocks pilot on Adult Swim.

It's over on BlackHacker, located at the easily-memorable address, so, check out the direct link here.

By the way, since my GoogleAds apparently think my blog is about addiction, let's check in on the Diary of a London Cokehead. (by the by, Google, this is why I'm switching to BlogAds)

Also, I notice they didn't stereotype BlackHacker with derogatory ads--OH NO, they had to stereotype the Hollywood assistant kid as the cocaine user. Oh. Nevermind.

Guess what? Diary of a London Cokehead is living proof that bloggers often become better writers if they keep at it.
Check out his latest post by clicking here.

Now compare that to this older post by clicking here.

TAGS: , ,

Friday, November 11, 2005

Question of the Day

So here's my question: If Lions Gate is the 'anti-studio', then why do they put out just as much crap as a regular studio?

Exhibit A: Meet the biggest opener in Lions Gate history: "Saw 2".

Exhibit B: The most critically-acclaimed Lions Gate film of the year was Paul Haggis' true-story-of-a-mugging "Crash".

Exhibit C: Other films include: Nicholas Cage starrer "Lord of War" and the one by Rob Zombie, "The Devil's Rejects".


Thursday, November 10, 2005

I Have a Serious K Addiction: 3.46

I have a serious addiction that's incredibly silly. My addiction?
Katamari Damacy.
No, is not the next crack cocaine, and in fact, I'm surprisingly behind on this trend. It's a video game. And it is taking over my mind.

Agggh...the roomie is totally playing right now and I'm just grooving along to the music while writing. But like a good junkie, I'm really just counting the minutes until I get to play.

And before you tell me what a loser I am, save the finger energy. I know it's beyond stupid as a video game and a use of my time, but I can't help it. I'm addicted. I'm powerless.
For the uninitiated, here's what the game is about, to the best of my understanding. . .
The one on the right- the green one.

And what you do is roll a big sticky ball around that picks up things, like so. . .

And this guy hangs around-->
and shoots rainbows from his mouth. Could I make this up, people?

And you keep rolling the ball around a bunch of places picking stuff up until. . .

And this is your goal. A big ball of trash. It gets shot up into the sky to make stars. Or something.

But it's so incredibly fun and I don't know why. I guess maybe because I'm really, really high.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

9 to 5: Anti-Capitalist Manifesto?: 3.45

The results aren't in from the election as I go to bed (I Voted! and I have the sticker to prove it). But I thought I'd take a day to explore the intersection of popular culture and politics and Dolly Parton.

So we all love the song "9 to 5", right? I mean, come on, it's Dolly Parton. Who doesn't like them some ? And the movie, with Dolly, Lily Tomlin, Jane Fonda and Dabney Coleman, is a classic. Seriously, it's been long enough [1980] to consider it a classic.

But have you ever actually checked out the lyrics? They start out innocent enough . . .

Tumble outta bed
And I stumble to the kitchen
Pour myself a cup of ambition
Yawn and stretch and try to come to life

Jump in the shower
And the blood starts pumpin'
Out on the streets
The traffic starts jumpin'
With folks like me on the job from 9 to 5

Great right? Dolly's voice is smooth and pure and bouncy-- just like her trademark breasts! And the words are cute and clever without being too much.

Workin' 9 to 5
What a way to make a livin'
Barely gettin' by
It's all takin'
And no givin'
They just use your mind
And they never give you credit
It's enough to drive you
Crazy if you let it

9 to 5, for service and devotion
You would think that I
Would deserve a fair promotion
Want to move ahead
But the boss won't seem to let me
I swear sometimes that man is out to get me

Dolly's being held down by The Man!

Dolly, I totally sympathize.

They let you dream
Just to watch 'em shatter
You're just a step
On the boss man's ladder
But you got dreams he'll never take away

In the same boat
With a lot of your friends
Waitin' for the day
Your ship 'll come in
And the tide's gonna turn
An' it's all gonna roll you away

Well, that last part is certainly a hopeful sentiment, Dolly. Except for the vague drowning imagery.

Workin' 9 to 5
What a way to make a livin'
Barely gettin' by
It's all takin'
And no givin'
They just use your mind
And you never get the credit
It's enough to drive you
Crazy if you let it
9 to 5, yeah, they got you where they want you
There's a better life
And you think about it don't you?

I think we've all had daydreams about infinity pools. Mine also tend to involve Jessica Alba either entering or exiting said pool, but that's neither here nor there.

It's a rich man's game
No matter what they call it
And you spend your life
Putting money in his wallet

Preach it. I've been saying the same thing for years. Of course, since the movie came out before I was born [by a year or so], I guess you said it first. Take us on home, Dolly.

Workin' 9 to 5
What a way to make a livin'
Barely gettin' by
It's all takin'
And no givin'
They just use you mind
And they never give you credit
It's enough to drive you
Crazy if you love it

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Why No, Whoreface, I'm Not An Actor: 3.44

But first, on a light note, I enjoyed the premiere of the overall. It definitely has those new-show jitters where the pacing's uneven and a few of the jokes or lines are clunky. My main concern is Regina King. Having her voice both Huey and Riley may be a huge mistake. In the first scene or two, I wondered, "is Riley like six or something- or else severely developmentally disabled?". That got better, but I still wasn't comfortable with her by the end of the episode. So we'll see. But there's some good stuff in there. I found the writing to be as good as I expected and I do really like John Witherspoon as Granddad.

Personally, I'm going to keep watching. If Regina King's voices become the voices of Huey and Riley for me then I think I could really start getting into it. The other option is to pretend Regina's film career is getting too strong and have her be replaced by one or two new voice actors. I have a feeling McGruder likes too much for that option, though. Anyway, now for something completely different:

Why No, Whoreface, I'm Not An Actor

So what I want to know is does this happen to other people in Los Angeles, or am I the only one?

Attending an uber-chic, liquor-sponsored party, I was waiting patiently at the bar for my drinks when I met Whoreface.

Whoreface, played by Tara Reid, was your typical pushing-35-but-says-they're-28, Ugg-wearing, pastel-tank-top-sporting, fake-baked skankarella.

Played by my avatar, Chad Michael Murray, I was casually surveying the crowd while waiting for two martinis. Now, in Whoreface's defense, I was wearing Polo Ralph Lauren, and that does have a tendency to drive the ladies a little loopy around me. But that is her only defense.

This was her come-on line: "Oh my God, do I know you?"

Dear sweet God I hoped not.

A bit startled by the volume of her obviously-sloshy voice, I replied, "Um, I don't think so."

Whoreface/: "Are you like an actor?"

Me/: "Um, no."

Whoreface flashes me a grin and a significant amount of bra. She's got me pegged.

Whoreface: "But you wanna be one, right?"

Me: "Not really."

Whoreface: "Ohcomeon! Everyone comes to LA to be famous, right?"

She twirls her hair as if this last statement was funny or ironic. Mostly it made me sad, because it didn't seem far from the truth for her. I wonder where my martinis are, then realize she's moving closer to me. In fact, she's seriously all up in my personal bubble.

Whoreface: "So really, where do I know you from?"

She engages in some more hair twirling as I shrug, sheepishly smile and peer around for the conspicuously-absent bartender.

Whoreface: "So what were you on?"

I wish I was on half as many happy pills as you. Me, only half-hearing her: "On?"

Whoreface: "Yeah, I know I've seen you somewhere before. . . but I can't put my finger on it." She takes this opportunity to tap my chest, but since I'm kinda turned away from her in a protective antisocial bar huddle, she has to kind of reach around to get me. She applies enough pressure that I must half-turn toward her.

Whoreface: "Let me look at you. I know I know you. I never forget a face." Funny, I never forget a cliche. Whoreface continues, "Are you sure you haven't done commercials?"

Meanwhile, I'm seriously considering re-enacting a Mentos commercial and whipping off a nearby tablecloth, going behind the bar, and making my own stupid martinis.

Me: "Um yes, I'm sure." As she reaches her clawed hands toward my face, I jerk back a little and give her a look that I hope says, "I will smash a glass over your head if you touch me with those things." Unfortunately, Whoreface seems to interpret it as "I'm shy."

Whoreface: "You know, I've got a lot of friends in the industry. Are you getting good auditions? Who's your agent?"

Me: "I'm not an actor."
Not an actor.
Whoreface: "Well what are you then?"

I loathe talking about my job, but I want to put this biyotch in her place so I come up with the best title I would think a person who looks like me might be possibly have.

Me: "I'm the assistant director of creative development for. . . MTV?" [ed. note: I have no idea if this position actually exists. And as a point of pride, I'm not finding out.]

Whoreface: "Oh wow, cool. So do you do the casting for Real World and stuff?"

I consider gouging my eyes out with a skinny red plastic straw. I opt not to, and thankfully the slowest bartender in LA arrives with my martinis. I throw cash at him and lurch away from the bar, leaving the perfume of stale smoke and staler vagina behind me.

When Whoreface calls out, "Wait, I didn't give you my card!" I don't look back.

Monday, November 07, 2005

Love For Women Who Love Women: 3.43

"People who need people. . .
are the luckiest people in the world"

-Barbra Streisand

So Google gave me a lesbian singles site in my GoogleAds. That's hot. I have a love/hate relationship with Google. One minute I think they're totally rad and the next I think they're the next Microsoft. But lesbians-- I have no hate in my relationship with them. No, no, only love. And some respect. And, to be more frank than you'd like, some action in my pants.

I noticed the ad a day or two ago. It was for the world's biggest online lesbian community. So of course I felt it was my duty to check it out thoroughly. You know, cuz, um. . .they're an advertiser. And um, I had to make sure it was safe for kids?
I don't know. I just really wanted to check out a lesbian dating site. Sue me. Guys always take so much flack for being fans of women who love women. But I love women who love women, is that so wrong?

How can you not love these women?

Sweet, sweet awesome lesbians. Portia's on "Arrested Development" and Ellen is Ellen. They totally beat most straight celebrity couples. Really, probably the only couple I would want to hang around with and/or see have sex more is Brangelina. And I think most lesbians would agree, that that sh*t is hot.

Now, this has been a good time for lesbians, with Sheryl Swopes getting a media and sponsor yawn when she came out. As much as she might've been surprised by the lack of response, I'm not. A lesbian in the WNBA-- who'd a thunk it? Still, she ain't being Billie Jean King-ed out of her sponsorships and she's still considered a role model (without the WNBA we'd be perilously short on b-ballers who haven't served time). So her coming out does mean something-- it means that people are seeing coming out as increasingly normal.

In other celebrity outing news, George Takei has been with his non-celeb partner Brad something for 18 years. In the world of celebrity relationships, 18 years is approximately Brad & Jen's marriage + Bennifer I + TomKat + Brangelina + both of Britney's marriages + Bennifer II + JLo & Marc Antony.

I mean fer chrissakes, let gay people save matrimony already. If two women can't make a marriage work, I don't know who could. And if two men can be maintain a relationship for 18 years, then gay guys deserve all the sanctity marriage can give 'em.

Friday, November 04, 2005

The Boondocks Rocks My Socks: 3.42

Are you ready for it? The Boondocks, based on Aaron McGruder's super-awesome comic strip of the same name, is coming to television. And specifically, it's coming to Cartoon Network's Adult Swim.


I do admit to having high hopes for the show, and is something of a hero. And an anonymous superhero's hero is an uber-hero to the world. Why?

Let's start with the fact that, at the age of 24, McGruder shook up the comic pages with a strip [] that was adamantly political and riotously funny and somehow, really cute.

If you doubt its pop culture relevance, let me just say that it was the only comic strip we studied at USC in my Visual & Popular Culture class. So there. I played the Trojan card. Respect the Trojan, people.

The Boondocks is nothing short of brilliant in its three-panel form, but I wonder if the show can translate well into the new medium of half-hour episodic television.

As for the characters, I'd have to say that while I always have identified with Huey, but I've always thought his punk-a$$ little brother Riley was the funniest character. He'll suggest things like "burning the grass" instead of mowing the lawn and his interactions with his grandfather are absolutely priceless. If they can nail the family dynamics of these three--keeping them off-kilter and hilarious but realistically loving--the show will work.

But I guess we'll see when The Boondocks debuts on Cartoon Network's Adult Swim on November 6th.* That's Sunday-- and I know y'all ain't goin' to church.**

*Global readers- tough sh*t, unless you live in Canada or miraculously get it via satellite. By the way, Aussies, thanks for being the latest global shout-outs-- it was Aussies two weeks ago. But I love you both equally, so no Down Under internectine warfare on my behalf, please.
**Um, but if you do go to church, you can probably still watch it cuz it's on pretty late and most churches I know are over by then. Just sayin'.

Sorry for the lack of posting

Sorry for not posting Thursday or yet today, but I am getting my a$$ handed to me at work.

And then they tell me to take my a$$ and turn it into a beautiful canvas worth a thousand words. And then I'm like, dude, that's my a$$, not art.

And they're like, 'It's YOUR ass, so you better make it good!'

And I'm like, 'F*ck.'.

But do you kids like "The Boondocks"? The tv show debuts on Adult Swim on Sunday. I'll have a post done soon about it.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Why Global Frequency Should Be a Show for Fall 2006: 3.41

This is my 200th post and I'm dedicating it to the resurrection of the Global Frequency.
Will keep a good show down?

I know you know I like the Global Frequency. I mean, I REALLY like it.

Especially now that I've finally gotten to read the Global Frequency comics. Frankly, I was most surprised by the artwork-- and let me tell you, it is art. It is amazing, vividly pulsating, graphic art.

But don't despair you people who thumb your collective nose at comics, there's also a television pilot.

And frankly, as cool of a comic as this puppy is, it would make an even better television show than it does a comic. Since I know most of you are too lazy to click the links I made up there, allow me to re-hash the premise.

This is .
She plays Miranda Zero, leader of the and a sexily-mysterious ex-spy with subfreezing attitude to spare.

This is .
She plays Aleph, nerve center of and highly connected techgrrrl extraordinaire. She hangs out at Global Frequency HQ and, like a good assistant, pretty much runs the whole show herself.

This is Josh Hopkins. He actually plays ex-Detective Sean Flynn, who, if memory serves, isn't really in the comics. Not that I recall, at any rate. The important thing about Sean is that the whole pilot is told through his eyes- and Hopkins does an admirable job of making his character both instantly sympathetic and interesting (and he even gets some chemistry going with hot-chick-with-5-doctorates Jenni Baird) . So, really, Sean is the main character, for the first episode anyway.

You see, in Ellis's Global Frequency, the main threads are Miranda Zero and Aleph as characters, but the stories are usually driven by the frequent guest stars--the relevant experts for the crisis. What does this mean for you, tv viewer? Well, two solidly hot and definitely talented actresses are just the beginning. But since I know you don't like actually reading, here's a helpful list.


1) Anyone, and perhaps everyone, can be on it-- and that just makes it more powerful. With millions at its beck-and-call (literally, call) the Frequency is the ultimate 'smart mob' and, in its fictional world, the last line of defense against various apocalyptic scenarios.
2) A show is only as good as its superproducer. GF has one who's up to the task in the form of Mark "Bruckheimer Who?" Burnett.
3) It'd make a good match for Supernatural. Since that's the WB's only significant new hit this season, it could really benefit from a good pairing. Do it and you've got a highly-buzzable night ready to go. I can think of a lot worse things than spending, say, every Tuesday night with Michelle Forbes and Aimee Garcia, even if Jensen Ackles has to be there.
4) Aimee Garcia [see above]
5) Michelle Forbes [see above]
6) The pilot was written by John Rogers, my super-cool blogger buddy over at Kung Fu Monkey.
7) Because that Warren Ellis is a crazy mofo- and you gotta love him.
8) Remember when Alias was good? Well, Nelson McCormick directed some of those episodes. Dang man, looking at his IMDB profile, McCormick has a solid pedigree: he's directed eps of not just Alias, but Nip/Tuck, CSI, The West Wing, House and ER. That's why the pilot looks so good for a pilot.
9) The fast pace, big action, whippy writing, rich premise, beguiling characters and relevance to society at large all bode well for its long-term prospects.
10) Thanks to its unconventional route to popularity (we effectively smartmobbed up a global frequency to force a major media corporation to change direction), potential chemistry with another show, highly-pedigreed cast & crew, wacky genius comic writer,

Remember, WB, you're not the bad guy if you bring back the Global Frequency-- you're the netlet with a super-cool new hit show. You're the bad guy if you don't.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

CAA Gets Down and Gets Loose: 3.40

This report comes from a fresh, new correspondent, a big agency assistant [not CAA] with a lot of wide-eyed charm. He reports on a recent party at which the CAA assistants apparently rocked the house. So without further ado, the report from the man with the pseudonym Mr. Mount Dynamite:
(don't ask me why that's his pseudonym, I have no idea)

Another assistant got us some passes so we were like, f*ck it, let's go. My goal was to get a measly two phone numbers, strictly for business purposes.

We walk into the club, everybody was tight and stiff, dressed in appropriate drone-attire (except for us in jeans and sneaks). One look and I wanted to get out of there. 45 mins and 3 drinks later (open bar by the way) and we were flying. The place was suddenly packed with hot, single, agent's assistants, many of them women. Them and !!!

The club itself [Element on Las Palmas in Hollywood] was nothing special. A huge main hall, small and sleek leather couches on the side, a small CAA ice sculpture (that was pretty cool) a bar to one side, the couches and a second mini level on the other side. Towards the back was another, smaller bar, and the far back, was a back patio with yet another bar. There were a lot of official club people, running around with clipboards and headsets, who seemed to be running the place in addition to the CAA marketing people checking up on things

The assistants definitely did their job on this one. They were dressed to kill, open and friendly, getting their numbers was easy, and with enough prodding, getting their work gossip was easy too. All you had to do was stick your hand out and wave, and you could catch something nice. As the night wore on, the drinks flowed ever more liberally, the assistants were practically pouring booze down my throat and dragging us on the dance floor. I had to beg for a break they were so accomodating. It was almost like they were there on display by their bosses or they were acting on some sort of directive: "look at how hot and nice we are". Needless to say, I got a lot more numbers then I thought I would.

As for work gossip...let's just say most of the agent assistants, when describing their jobs, said they were wiping their bosses asses...without the tissue. And many of them had done some extraordinary things before becomg agents' assistants. Some had shorts in Cannes, others needed work visas and were the first in their agency to convince their superiors to get them, some had run their own film companies back home. I came away with the feeling that the assistants were way more talented than what their job was allowing them to do, but they were going through with it in the slim hope that one day they could make the big decisions and follow their passions.

I wish I could be more specific, but that's the gist of it. Did I mention the open bar already?

Not realizing how drunk I was until I finally got to my car, I spent 30 mins alone, inside, in a deserted parking lot, just trying to calm down and get a handle on the fact that I was going to have to drive myself home. The world was indeed spinning off its axis that night.

So to summarize: free booze flowing amply, young nubile women in the industry, and CAA. [ed. note: and naughty, highly-illegal and bad buzzed driving] Don't see how it gets any better than that! Now I know why CAA is #1! I am going to go to that party till I am 60 years old.

So what have learned today? Booze=Good. Booze + Driving=Bad. And finally, we've learned that CAA assistants, like most industry assistants, are hilariously overqualified for their jobs.