Unnatural Attraction

For some reason, alien to me, I am obsessed with wanting, but not acquiring, a HELIO, the bizarre, awkwardly marketed, slick, do-it-all, cell phone with the inane tagline- "don't call it a phone."

Let me make it clear that I don't foresee getting a Helio because I just renewed my Verizon plan for two years and I don't expect Helio's to exist within a quarter of that timeframe(especially after Apple's iPhone goes all Paul Revere on you coalminers).

But I can't help but be fascinated with the Helio. It's so...ridiculous and inane. First of all, it IS a phone. You're buying it to replace your phone, even if you do a lot of text messaging, you're still using it as your primary source of communication.

Secondly, it was launched with a direct corellation to MySpace, including special software to view and update MySpace easily from your Helio, so now you're NARROWING the usage to those that use MySpace. While many of you are saying, "But most people use MySpace!" Think of all those people and then think of all the people that use text messaging and cellphones and imagine the Venn Diagram where those all intersect. It's a small intersection.

I think there is a camera on it to, and I'm sure some sort of terrible proprietary music player that destroys songs after five plays or some cockamamie DRM sabotage.

Also, they are now throwing all their effort into promoting the "buddy beacon." Basically a digital map that has a smiley face where you and your friends are via GPS, which sounds like all sorts of trouble. Honesty and cell phones have never gone hand in hand so know we want you to track your friends.

Another huge contributing factor to my fascination is that there is a special Helio store on the Santa Monica Promenade. Where they have computers there that CAN ONLY GET ON MYSPACE*.

I want one. I don't need one. No one I know has one or will ever get one and it's going to obsolete when you're done reading this blog, but perhaps I'm a product of their slick marketing- it still seems kind of cool. In the smoking sort of cool, not the I design roller coasters way**.




*Hanawalt knows more about this than I do...ask him...

**The difference being that roller coaster designers make you say, "COOOOOL!" when they tell you what they do and smokers are cool in movies.

Animatronic Congress Breaks Down; Standing Ovation for "Malaria" Lasts Ten Minutes

During last night's State of the Union address, the customary animatronic congress jammed itself in the "standing ovation" gear resulting in a record-breaking, if slightly awkward 11 minute 36 second standing ovation for the phrase "Malaria thursts thousands of Africans to their knees every year."

Unphased, George Bush remained stoic and smiling throughout the ordeal as Congressional Imagineers worked to restore functionality.

Imminent Release

I haven't had anything to brag about for awhile, so it's very convienent that this comes along, because I've been needing some sort of confidence-slash-ego boost. I'm hoping that we're rolling into a nice little period of releases through the beginning of this year. But first and foremost-

ZACH GALIFIANAKIS: LIVE AT THE PURPLE ONION gets released by Shout! Factory at the beginning of March.

However, if I'm correct, this DVD as well as a bunch of others I've worked on are available through Netflix exclusively. Including- Joe Rogan: Live, Comedians of Comedy: Live at the El Rey, and Comedians of Comedy: The Documentary. All of which are highly recommended for the discerning alt-comedy fan in your neighborhood.

But Jeff, what exactly was your involvement in these hilarious docu-comedies? After all, we did subscribe to this blog to hear about your latest escapades and exploits and other e-starting words that excite and enthrall us!

I'm glad you asked, obvious self-promoting italics! I'll lay it down straight for y'all. I didn't do much more than Post assistance work on Comedians of Comedy, but for Zach and Rogan I was the assistant editor(i made the end credits crawl!) and got to go up to San Francisco for a few days to shoot Zach's DVD(the first night of which he blasts Netflix about a hundred times with all the owners of the company in the room laughing their heads off).

So there you go! It's a great DVD with a bunch of hilarious deleted scenes. It's not a standard stand-up comedy/live show DVD in that it's chopped up by small sketches and documentary bits all of which are awesome. One reviewer said that if you're not familiar with Zach, this may not be the place to jump on, but I think that if you're familiar with alt-comedy in general(alt-comedy=NOT Dane Cook) you'll appreciate Zach's delightfully bizarre humor.

See you in the kill-zone!

Open Letter to my '97 Honda Civic's Cooling System and Third Cylinder Head

Hey Guys-

I just wanted to be cordial and send a parting word before I divorce myself from your disgusting thermo-fracturing relationship that has essentially ruined my week, month, and possibly first fiscal quarter of 2007.

It wasn't until too late that I discovered your torrid, over-heated, affair and I must say, however prejudiced it may sound, I find the intermingling of engine systems to be disgusting and unnatural and dangerous. The two of you should be ashamed of yourselves for keeping this from me. If you had expressed love for each other before, perhaps we could have figured out a way to make it work.

But no- you decided to keep your filthy relentless exploits secret and it destroyed a beautiful relationship that I CHERISHED. I needed you, but you betrayed me and I'm kicking you to the curb. Just remember that this isn't my fucking fault- YOU BROUGHT THIS ON YOURSELF.

You knew if you carried on that this would happen. I could only drive on into the night, while unbeknownst to me, under my very hood, that I wash so carefully, was this wretched sharing of fluids. I think i'm going to be sick.

Anyhow, like I said before, I just wanted to let the two of you love-birds know that I think you are foul, queer, and worthless pieces of machinery that I thought at one time to be reliable and trustworthy. I'm sure you'll find a happy life together after I sue your rubber-hosed-asses into the Pick-a-Part at the docks.

Sincerely, but not really,
Jeff

Transcendence

Last Saturday I had one of the greatest experiences of my life. Some of you that have already had this experience will nod your head and smile, while others may not understand what the big deal is. If you haven't experienced this incredible feeling, I urge you to find a location near your home where you can acquire this miracle of modern male grooming.

I walked down to 4th St., to Hawleywood's Barbershop (Gentlemen only) and got a haircut and a hot-towel shave.

Hawleywood's opened last Tuesday, the second of January. I walked past it on the first and said, Huh- that looks new. I walked past it on the second and they were open, "have you guys been here long?" "About forty-five minutes."

I'd been looking forward to it all week and finally, after finishing my work for the morning walked down the street to the shop. Surprisingly, for being open four days, it was pretty packed in there. Guys with tatts and greasy hair, smoking, and drinking pints of Pabst. Three barbers were there cutting, shaving, and greasing up the other gentleman in the establishment.

When it was my turn in the chair, I asked Cesar how much a shave would be with my haircut. He shrugged and said, "Shave and haircut? Forty bucks." Wow. Sounds good to me. I know girls that spend $150 on their hair.

The actual haircut wasn't that different from a regular haircut, except for the fact that I got exactly what I wanted because I had chaps that knew what I wanted. It was a snap.

So the haircut was great, but jesus habeus corpus- gentlemen, if you've never had a hot-towel shave before, you are missing out on a little piece of nirvana that only a man can enjoy. It took about an hour, just laying there, hot towel, lather, slow, smooth, shave. Seriously, your shave doesn't get any smoother or closer than this. Honestly, I wanted to go to prom when I walked out. Boutineer, rented tux, Marriott ballroom style. They greased up my hair, threw on some spiffy aftershave, and sent me on my way, bopping out the door like a new man.

Hawleywood's Barbershop on 4th and Junipero in Long Beach. You may want to make an appointment on the weekend. Also, if you're the kind of guy that doesn't want grease in his hair- don't get a haircut there. But if you want to kick back and take your time for a nice, relaxing hot-towel shave, it's worth the twenty bucks. Holy shit, is it worth it.

Pay no attention to this blog

Seriously- I have three different topics I've already written blogs about but haven't posted yet. So I should be posting one of those right now, except anyone who knows me, knows I have huge L.A. pride- I love this city in all the endless concrete, smoggy, squallor. I was born here, my father was born here, and his father was born here.

Most people know that I loves me some Apprentice.

So, since tonight is the premiere of The Apprentice: Los Angeles, I'm not getting anything of value done because I'm sitting here with my girlfriend practically screaming at the television. That's right, when I watch Mark Burnett produced television, I turn into a fourteen year old girl watching The Real World.

I love knowing exactly where they are in every scene, as well as the details: like how Donald Trump keeps promoting his "Trump National Golf Course." What they don't tell you is that the eighteenth hole of "Trump National Golf Course" FELL INTO THE OCEAN four years ago because it was built on one of the largest landslides in the continental United States.

Anyhow, dear readers, i apologize for this ridiculous departure from my normal pointed intelligentsia and colorful insight. I dare say you can look forward to brilliant columns(yeah, I call this a column now, what are you looking at?) if you like haircuts, Tuesdays With Morrie, and bartenders.

Have a great week!