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!

Marathon!

I just finished a marathon digital effects compositing ...er...marathon. 48 hours straight through on my soft butt blue-screening and animating.

My eyes hurt. My face hurts. My mind hurts. But the shit looks righteous and I'm pretty happy with the entire body of work i did in two days. Scott and I have been watching X-Files reruns on TNT since 3 AM and we might have watched the shittiest, longest, most mind-numbing episode about werewolves. It was agony and I was a huge X-Files nerd(convention!).

The last time I worked this long on something was the Crooked Teeth music video with Sevan, Morgan, and Schrab. Stayed up two days and then went to an UnCabaret workshop and proceeded to fall asleep listening to others' hilarious anecdotes.

But all this work is paying off- the show is airing in Italy right now and we're getting some nice (Italian) feedback, which is exciting. I'm excited to finish it up, print a DVD and start showing all you guys our toils for the last six months.

Now there is an X-Files episode about some convict guy named "Rawls" (Rahls? Ralze?) cutting people in half. Awesome. This show could have been thirty minutes if they cut all the dramatic push-ins in half. RAWLS STYLE.

Thanks Andy for being awesome and I hope you are feeling better!

Thanks Gourley for the much needed Prospector "Rendering Martini."

Thanks Arielle for calling me and making my day.

Oh yeah! My MySpace Blog War with Damon Gentry ends at midnight on Sunday! Subscribe now to help me kick his pastey white ass from the other side of the country! (Also, go visit his site and ask him about "HitPunchers;" He loves that.)

Can't sleep yet...still rendering final output...so close....sooooo cllooossseee....

I Have Cold Feet

With all the hubbub of the holiday season, I should have put "socks" on my holiday wish list.

New Years Purge .1 of 2

There are two New Years Purges every year for me. The first comes the week before the new year when I destroy my apartment in the hopes that I will rebuild it from the ashes a new Phoenix of cleanliness and organization. The second purge occurs at 11 AM on January 1st, about thirty minutes after i wake up with an earth-cracking hangover and I'm sure you can guess the nature of this second purge.

Right now, I'm in the midst of an epic New Years apartment purge and reorganize. I've added shelving space which was much needed because I am constantly adding new crap to my apartment that I don't know where to store.

Last year, I added the first shelving unit and a couple of large and medium boxes to my "miscellaneous corner," and this year I need better boxes, and more storage space.

Here's the thing- I'm not a pack rat, but I definitely save shit. But I save stuff like an old CD burner, an old Sega Genesis, and an old Super Nintendo. I also have saved all my old VHS tapes, while there aren't that many, I would rather keep them because I don't have any of the movies on DVD(the big exception being that my VCR just broke recently, so now they are really just taking up space.)

The librarian part of me doesn't want to get rid of certain things that would benefit my obsessive-compulsive archival disorder. I love to have access to all sorts of things at all times. That's part of the reason I'm obsessed with buying and reading books. I want to be helpful to all my friends in any way possible. I like collecting knowledge and this compulsion splashes over significantly to pop culture uses- hence the old game consoles(i also have an old version of Oregon Trail), the Vectrex I just bought, and the various bundles of magazines I have kept in chronological order.

However, today is the day that this all gets put in order. Period. I'm not putting a definite time-limit on it, but today is really the only day I am going to have available for this monsterous job. The little things I can do while puttering around the house in the evening are things I would do no matter what, so I can spread little things out this week.

This is all in preparation for New Years Purge #2, and making sure I have a clean house for people to crash at after the Prospector on Sunday. That's very important.

Alright- back to work.

Willing to Bet

This is going to be the most blogged about thing EVER.



It's kind of a cop-out, it's kind of on the nose, and more than anything I think it reminded me how much I just don't give a shit what Time Magazine thinks; besides, I'd rather read my friends' blogs.

Way to put yourself out of business.

S.M.D., T.M.

What if he'd said "No?"

Quite possibly the greatest science story of our time-

Who Needs a Vet When You've Got Bao Xishun?

If you're too lazy to clicky the linky and read the crazy fucking story here's a brief synopsis; Two dolphins in a Chinese aquarium(great opening for a joke), swallowed some shards of plastic, they tried to get them out to no avail, so the doctors called in THE WORLD'S TALLEST MAN. HIs 41.7 in arms reached down the dolphin's gullet and pulled the shards out, resulting in the biggest WTF veterinary operation ever.

Seriously? There was NO other surgical, medical option other than the World's Tallest Man? And the question I pose is- What if he said, "Stick my 4 foot long arm down a what? Fuck THAT."

Actually, what I wish was that our entire society was governed by this trend- if there was a problem we had to call the World's Greatest ________ . In fact, isn't this how most industries are? If someone has a brain tumor, and the resources, you call in the best brain surgeon. Eventually everyone would get thier turn at something right? People would start inventing, creating things that they were hands-down, no-doubt, the best at.

We could build this giant directory of cross referenced talents and names and tasks and solutions compiled by the Greatest Directory Builder. You would have to call the Best Toy Clogged in a Toilet Plumber, who lives in Moscow, and he would have to get a hold of the Greatest Moscow to Los Angeles Pilot to fly him out here. The World's Tallest Man could just travel the world doing things only a tall man can do, like Kung Fu, except he's not that strong and doesn't speal english. I'm sure you could walk around the world a million times and always help someone with a tall person task.

What would I be? I'm pretty good at Gin Rummy. I also am really good at dating, but I don't think being the World's Greatest Date would fly with my girlfriend(who happens to be the World's Greatest Girlfriend.) I'm not quite the world's greatest blogger. I'm still really really good at Where's Waldo, so if that's not taken, I'm sure someone somewhere needs help finding Waldo in that World of Waldos at the end of The Great Waldo Search.

There you go. Ladies and Gentleman- I am the World's Greatest Waldo Finder. Revel in my glory, bow at my feet.