Mr. Touchy And...

...and, nothing rhymes with "touchy," except for "duchy." So pass the pot, no, not the spliff, a "duchy." As in "Dutch oven?" Tag, it's all about the alphabet and I'm it...

A- Available or Single -
I'm available not to be single. Don't look at my calves of steel either, or The Missus bat you about the head with her Circulon fury.

B- Best Friend -
The Missus.

C- Cake or Pie -
I'm all about pie.

D- Drink of Choice -
Coffee or juice, depending upon the time of the day.

E- Essential Item -
My cell phone. It's not just a phone, but I use it jot down writing ideas.

F- Favorite Color -
"Blue" and note how I didn't use the British English spelling for "favourite" and "colour," unlike my favorite cultural maven.

G- Gummi Bears or Worms -
Serve them to me and I'll throw them at you.

H- Hometown -
San Francisco, C-A! 'cause I hella luv NorCal and The City.

I- Indulgence -
Food, don't you know?

J- January or February -
February is colder around here, so January.

K- Kids -
Procrastinator Junior turns eleven tomorrow!

L- Life is incomplete without -
Love.

M- Marriage Date -
A certain day, way back in September, 1991. No, I didn't forget it...and even if I did, we have like three framed invitations, that I could conceivably look for...that is, if I didn't forget it.

N- Number of Siblings? -
Well, I've grown up with people that have been brothers and sisters to me, but it's just me, myself, and I, Delasoul.

O- Oranges or Apples? -
Oranges, but just by that much. Unless we're talking about...nevermind.

P- Phobias/Fears -
Like I'd tell everybody on a blog, sheesh. It's amazing how many memes ask this.

Q- Favorite Quote -
"Procrastination is" what, folks?

R- Reasons to smile -
Getting it right, whatever it may be.

S- Season -
Summer, it's so much easier to cool down.

T- Tag Three People -
Katie, 'cause that's what best online friends are for. John Don, 'cause I want him back in the blogging saddle. Dale, because he cracks me up at least thrice daily.

U- Unknown Fact About Me -
I don't drive a VW, but I obey my Fast.

W- Worst Habit -
"Hobbit?" Who's the worst "hobbit?" Um, "Sam?" I guess, I don't know, I just don't like him.

Y- Your Favorite Foods -
If you don't know by now, click here.

Z- Zodiac -
Aries.

After A Marathon, My Jungs Are Gasping For Air

I am glad that my writing has turned the corner recently, because, quite frankly, I am lacking in the dream department. My dreams have been pedestrian in every sense of the word. I spend most of them traveling from one place to another, usually on foot. I am always in search of an item, that is more often than not, food.

The locations/settings have been more boring than usual as well. They are usually a mix of San Francisco and the surrounding suburbs, sometimes there's a little Yosemite or Europe thrown in, but very little. No fantastic flying machines, magnificent futuristic cities or green space chicks from Star Trek.

One dream that stood out in its mediocrity, was when I spent the better part of four hours, trying to get a doughnut. That's pretty much it. There's was no conflict, other than someone/something would take the doughnut away and I didn't have enough sense to eat the damn thing as soon as I had it in my hands.

Contrast that with real life, where the nearest gas station some eight blocks away, has doughnuts twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. As a matter of fact, I believe that that some of those doughnuts have been there for the better part of a decade now, and they just sit there, rejected. I have no way of knowing, since the cashiers watch them like hawks, as if the parent corporation instructs them to make sure that no one marks the doughnuts, and the ruse of "fresh" doughnuts can go on.

Now, I don't feel that I'm lacking much, other than my family outside of my immediate household and money. I'm fairly happy most of the time and when I experience lows, they are not significant in their gravity.

The point of such a long journey, Rohinton Mistry? I don't know. I do know that I am far from refreshed when I wake up and I wake up even more tired than going into it. I do know that I have to deal with sleeping as I do with food shopping, I don't do it while hungry. Because as you know, if you go food shopping while you are hungry, that's when you're more susceptible to impulse buying.

For all of you Freudians and Jungians? It was lightly glazed and jelly-filled.

When I Hear Old-Timers Tell Tales

Sigh.

When I hear old-timers at work, tell me stories about how they used to pool their change together and be able to drive around all day and night off of that small collection? I can feel the veins in my head pulsing, like a character in a manga that is about to lose it.

"Under, Undercover Brother"

Eddie Griffin will:

A) Change his name to "$350,000 Deductible."
B) Accept the role of "Undercover Brother 2" that he's turned down five times. Hell, he'll also do the sequel to "Pluto Nash" that's going to straight to DVD. Because now is not the time to be picky.
C) "¿Eduardo Grifo? ¿Acerca de quién es este 'Eduardo Grifo' que usted habla? Me llamo es Juan Herrero...si...Juan, Herrero, y yo son Dominicanos. Ahora, yo debo salir."*




*"Eddie Griffin? Who is this 'Eddie Griffin' that you speak of? My name is John Smith...yes...John, Smith, and I am Dominican. Now, I should go."

What's A "Snow Day?"

Eric posted some nice pictures of Denver. To which I replied "I've always heard it's a wonderful place, but I'm allergic to snow and Republicans."

Well, I sit corrected because he replied, "you’re behind the times, WP. Denver is extremely blue. I live in Pat Schroeder’s former district. We have a Dem governor and the legislature is controlled by the Dems. As to snow, this was an unusual winter. Typically we get only a few snows of 6 inches or less. I work 25 miles west and 3,000 vertical feet up and it’s a different story there."

Touché. The political climate has changed and I've been misinformed. Yet, I would also reply, Eric, in San Francisco? One, I repeat, one, snow day. I'm forty-one and we've had exactly one snow day. That climate won't change.

Mind you, none of us except for Robin Williams and the Gettys can afford to live here, but we ain't got no snow.

This also straightens out once and for all, an arguement that I have every year with my Republican brother-in-law. Hey Frank, the Raiders didn't play a home game in the snow, as you can plainly see that it snowed only on February 5th, 1976. Which would make it well after the regular and playoff football season for that year, as the Super Bowl X was played on January 18, 1976.

Okay...

So this cat says, compares himself to one of the greatest writers of all time...

Okay...well, um, all right.

I don't know, maybe it's just me, but I'll bet that the Bard never would have wrote the line, "I'm Buck and I'm here to f**k."

More Gene Wilder Than Medusa Today

Dale, voila, mon ami Canadien! First, here is the bald spot in all its glory. I do a pretty good job at hiding it or everyone at work is oblivous.

My hair is more subdued today. It's more Gene Wilder (that's "Procrastinator-steen"), than say Mick Hucknall of Simply Red or Medusa. I slept on it while it was still a little wet and it curled a little more than usual as a result.

I'm tempted to do a stencil akin to a ubiquitous WWII graffito, depicting just my hair, two hands, and the phrase, "Cormac Wuz Here."

I just had the Missus measure the longer strands on the top, nine and one-half inches! My hair in high school had reached Troy Palamalu proportions in length, plus it was comparable to Jimi Hendrix in volume and height. When I finally went to get it hacked off for the school pictures (can't remember if that was junior or senior year), I went down to Supercuts.

I was passed off subtlely to the a new hair stylist who wouldn't have known any better, because she was brand new. About halfway through the ordeal, she started crying, because she said that she was losing money on me and she was right. As she must have lost at least two customers that day to other stylists that day, from the logjam that was my hair.

Wanna See Something Scary?

I mean, something truly frightening? You know, the kind of stuff that makes you lose your dinner?....

Quelle horreur! See? Told ya. I'm all pixelated and stuff. At any rate, this is just a test and if there's one thing I can say that's positive about Beta and Picasa, they don't time me out and boot me out like the original Blogger and Flickr did on the dial-up (or crash the laptop on the broadband). Dale wants to see bad hair day photos and that may very come true tomorrow.

It's Time

It's time for a haircut because...

My hair has gone from Sideshow Bob, to Cha-ka dimensions.

Every time the wind is 5 m.p.h. or more, I lean back, whether I want to or not.

It's time for a shave because...

The Missus won't kiss me on the lips anymore and she keeps mumbling something about "barbed-wire."

Leaves, twigs, humming birds, and the occasional cat have become entangled in my beard.

I have heard too many Latinos say in Spanish, "I didn't know that Grizzly Adams was a brunette."

Dig It, What Is The Gas Company Digging For?

Two hours until the jackhammers commence and I will lose sleep without recompense. Tell me ladies and gentlemen, just what is it, that the Gas Company looking for:

A) A frisbee lost during the Summer of Love.
B) Dinosaur bones.
C) The bones of Emperor Norton.
D) The Last Emperor.
E) The Last Days of Disco.
F) Just to give yours truly, a dose of the letter that starts this line.

R.I.P. Larry "Bud" Melman

Calvert DeForest, we hardly knew ye...literally, we had no idea what you were about. Yet, that didn't mean that we didn't enjoy you or didn't laugh at your hijinks, even if you left us scratching our heads through out the commercial breaks after your appearances.

Off On A Tangent...

...like a thicket of tangelos, don't ya know?

They're back, or should I say they're stalking their territory, just a little further than a stone's throw away. Hello holey sidewalks, goodbye sleep.

Speaking of lack of sleep, I'm lucky to get five hours over three shifts, or should I say, "attempts?" Things have a tendency to take on a dull, surreal and detached feeling to them. I've replaced swear words with "this...is...Sparta!" As well as saying "jumpin' catfish!" in a pitch perfect Walter Brennan.

Sometimes, things sound extraordinary on paper, but they wind up being less than ordinary in real life. Dark chocolate peppermint Altoids seemed to me, like a marriage made in Heaven. Yet they did a half-ass job on both components and the results are less than mediocre.

C'mon, say it with me. This...is...Sparta! See? I did you a favor. If you joined in with me at work, you're boss is telling you right now that "you are stressed. Overworked, why don't you take the rest of the day off?" If you joined in with me at home, your significant other is telling you to just calm down and that they'll finish up the housework.

If this backfired and you got fired or kicked out of the house, what are you doing listening to me anyhow? I'm sleep deprived. Jumpin' catfish!

I've probably brought this up before and you certainly won't hear me use it, but "irregardless" is a proper word...or so the Merriam Webster Online says.

Was you ever bit by a dead bee?

I may not get a lot of sleep, but I sleep better than people in Roanoke, Virginia.

One more time for good measure...this...is...Sparta!

Westbound On Lincoln

The Missus and I were driving down Lincoln Way to drop off an important document...that's right people in the Bay Area, it is Lincoln "Way." Not "street." Not "avenue." "Way," as in I looked it up and as a native San Franciscan, I've been wrong about it my whole life. I might be wrong about the street names, but I'll bet anyone that I cannot get lost between the Golden Gate Bridge and Daly City. N-yahhh! : P

So as we are going down Lincoln Way and waiting to cross at Fifth Avenue and Lincoln, on the Golden Gate Park side, there is a woman holding a rod. And that rod, is cradling a spine which she has slung over her shoulder. As we pass her by, I remark...

Me: Did you see that?
The Missus: See what?
Me: That woman, she was carrying a spine.
The Missus: Where?
Me: Back there...see?
The Missus: Maybe she's on her way to a board meeting downtown and she's letting people know not to mess with her.
Me: Naw, she's probably on her way to the UC (UCSF Hospital and Medical School).

Then again, maybe the Missus was right. Maybe that woman is brand new on the job and she's giving everyone a silent heads up, as in, "those who trespass against me? Caaah-ricccck!"

Or, "touch the candy at my desk or my lunch in the refrigerator, and I'll be forced to add to my collection."

There is a reason this blog is neglected

I'm sorry that this blog has been neglected as of late, but that's because I've been blog-hopping and over here. It has taken on a life of its own and my editorial skills are lacking.

John Don Is Back Home

At last, something has gone right in this world. John sent me an email, letting me know that he is back home. To all those who said a prayer and sent him a get well, a big thanks!

Ah, If Only The Screenplay Was As Strong As The Soundtrack

I have a screenplay...or, should I say, three scenes and a premise. The play itself, Shakespeare, is not the thing in this case...because there isn't enough to get off the ground with...maybe I'll give it the short story treatment over here...I don't know.

At any rate, it's an almost modern western, think "Easy Rider" and Soderbergh's "The Underneath," the rare film where the remake is much better than the original. Unfortunately, that's all there is, a pitch and some scenes. The thing that does stand out, is the soundtrack I designed to write to it.

"Green Grass & High Tides" by The Outlaws. This song has a kinesis, a certain flow to it, if you will. Certainly this is the perfect road song and it's crescendo is the perfect song for a soundtrack.

"Midnight Rider," "Dreams," and "Hot 'lanta" by The Allman Brothers.

"Come To Poppa" by Bob Seger for the scene with a slimy pimp/strip club owner. Listen to this song, I mean really listen to this song. The character Bob is singing about doesn't just want the woman. He wants to exploit her and possilbly her very soul.

I was on the fence in terms of adding "Train, Train" by Blackfoot and "Mississippi Queen" by Mountian, and that was about the time I gave up on this so-called script. It's one of those ideas that would be served best, by a little time on the shelf and a fresh look at it in a few years.

9.0 On The Richter Scale

Don't forget tonight, Andy Richter makes a comeback on NBC. Hopefully this will be as good as "Andy Ricther Controls The Universe," which should've already been on DVD (WTF, Fox?).

Fear Not Ladies, Help Is On The Way!

From time to time, I read a blog here and there, where a female blogger laments the lack of romance and a quality man in her life. Well, ladies, fear not, help is on the way!

There's this guy.
Not to mention this hunk.
And as of yesterday morning, this guy is back in circulation...literally.

Don't they just give you "the vapors," ladies?...

...or maybe it's gas, who knows?

A Prayer For John Carlucci

A pox on Yahoo and a pox on blog-city. I have just received an email some three days after it was intended, John Donald Carlucci has pancreatitis. If you go to here, his sister posted the general information in the "comments section."

Please take the time to say a prayer for him and try to post a get well, though I don't know how strong his comment moderation is.

Thank you.

P.S. An update from John's sister Leslie via John's blog:

John was moved from ICU late this afternoon. He will be in the hospital for at least another couple of days. At this point we are just waiting on test to come back. His color looks good and he was awake and talking for awhile today. He is not aloud any food or drink. That of course is making him very unpleasant. They said this occurred because of extremely high cholesterol and he is diabetic. We are waiting to hear if the diabetes is primary or secondary. He had an MRI today and should know tomorrow if he is going to require surgery. Friday he was in critical condition. The doctor said we almost lost him. That is very, very scary..... he's a pain in the ass, but I love him. Thanks for any prayers. Leslie

Watch out Trent, There's A New 9" Nail In Town!

I want to hug you like an animal
I want to make you feel all warm inside
I want to hug you like an animal
My whole existence is on iPod
You get me closer to odd

Measuring The Blogging Boom

Originally from PC Magazine, then to SF Gate, then to here. None of the following is my commentary or reflects the opinions of this blog, though I do have two dead blogs out there.

Measuring the blogging boom

Blog, blog, blohg, blawg, blah, blah, blah. ...

If you've come to believe there are more blogs out there than there are people to read them, you may very well be right.

A honking big new series of stories from PC Magazine confirms the blogging boom, estimating that we'll have upwards of 100 million blogs out there by the end of the year. That's the bad news, in my humble opine.

The good news is that the mag also predicts we'll peak out around then and scale back to about 30 million blogs in the near future. You have time to digest that, right?

Anyhoo, here's some more blog-tastic stats:

--175,000 new blogs are being started each day. (Technorati)
--The number of active blogs grew from 56 million to 62.3 million between October of 2006 and January 2007. (Gartner)
--The total number of dead, abandoned blogs out there has exceeded 200 million.(Gartner).

Nothing sadder than an abandoned blog. Yep.

It's Alive!...

and kicking, Jim Kerr. So don't you forget about The Bad Lieutenant's Wife.

It's Official

So I alluded to this earlier. So now "the bigger and better things" are here and I'm in Creative Screenwriting...



well, not really...



technically, I am. As is Procrastinator Junior, in issue Volume 14, #2. We're on page sixty-six, in an ad for the shop. It's a picture of a late 60's Camaro, a design from Quentin Tarantino's "Death Proof," which was the original title for "Grindhouse."

P.S. Correction, "Death Proof" is the title of Tarantino's segment.

Re-tagged!

Beth retagged me. Ah yes, same meme, different day...I'm kidding Ms. Coffey.

"Six Weird Things About Me, Redux"

1) I can say, "same shit, different day" in three languages. English, Italiano y Español:

Lo stesso merda, ma, la dia è differente.
La misma mierda, pero la día es diferente.

2) I don't know if anyone has brought this subject up for this meme, but I am an earwax factory. Prolonged usage of headphones can increase the stuff, but me? I just crank the stuff out like a candle factory.

3) I have more than a few brand new books lying around the house that have gone unread. Unfortunately, no matter how good a book is, I have no problem reading another. Call it an odd manifestation of ADD.

4) I also have some unviewed DVDs and videos. Scratch your head, read and refer to number three for the lapse in logic. Repeat.

5) I can't stand beets, but I love borscht.

6) Most of the time, I mumble. Yet, if you need someone's attention or a taxi, I'm the one to see. I've never measured the decibel level when I yell, but you can be assured by the grabbing of ears and wincing of everyone within two hundred square feet, that probably, I am one of the loudest people you will ever hear.

C'mon People, You Can Do Better Than This...

"Wild at Heart" + "Wild Hogs" =

"Wild Hogs at Heart"

Surely Bassey, any Oddjob can top this. Over here, Goldfinger.

The End of Ka-Boom?

Okay, like I said here...

"Tom Cruise + Katie Holmes = TomKat.
Surely, Kate Bosworth + Orlando Bloom = Ka-Boom. Right?"

So this time, Orlando Bloom is going out with Penelope Cruz and you would get...

Orlando Bloom + Penelope Cruz = Orlando-lope.

God, I Love The Internet!

The Cult t-shirts are available? Life is good! My God, I love the Internet!

Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
I fell from the sky

Yesterday
You blew my mind

Havin' trouble
with my direction
Upside down
Psychotic reaction
OH

Casting Is Everything

Over the past month, I've rented two recent films that were set in the golden age of Noir. So if I were to grade movies set in that era on a basis of one to ten, they would get four points automatically, simply for getting the clothes, hairstyles, and cars right.

Both were decent efforts that were based on true stories, so I knew that both would have endings that could never be truly satisfying. Certainly, because I knew the outcome and I knew that neither the screenwriters nor the directors could create endings that could be both good and plausible.

"Hollywoodland" got the feel of the era right, though Adrien Brody's Louis Simo never wears a hat. I realize that it's set in the City of Angels, but men wore hats back then. Check the films of that era, the history books, the pictures, and you will see hats.

It was a solid movie in terms of performances and casting. Allen Coulter being a veteran of several "The Sopranos" episodes, did a good job of creating tension and setting a mood. The script lacked a little and the ending lacked somewhat.

People wear hats in "The Black Dahlia" and DePalma gets a lot right, but he gets himself wrong. From a directoral standpoint, the first ninety minutes of the film (save for a boxing scene lacks DePalma's visual tricks and over the first ninety minutes), there isn't the flash that I'm used to. The film could've used it to pick up the transistions.

One of my favorite bloggers went up against one of the hardest things in the world, adapting a James Ellroy novel and he came out of it with a decent and comprehensible script. They could offer me a million dollars and I won't adapt Ellroy, though, Eszterhaus money might change my mind.

Every one of Ellroy's books have been optioned and look how few of them actually make it to the screen. I'll put it you another way, "The Black Dahlia" has taken over twenty years to make it to the screen and dozens of screenwriters have gone mad, trying.

The movie ultimately falls apart for me (your results may vary with viewing) because it depends on DePalma reaching into his bag of tricks for the doppleganger ("Dressed To Kill," "Body Double" and "Raising Cain") and when he does, there isn't the faintest of a resemblance between the characters.

He wanted Eva Green for the role and she turned him down...that's a damn shame. Instead, he got Hilary Swank who did a fairly good job, but looks nothing like the character that the movie hinges on.

Not Enough With The Rhetoric

Posts like these, are why I visit the Rhetorical Letter Writer every day.

Tell Me-Tell Me, How To Be, A Million-aire-air

I've seen the future, I can't afford it
Tell me the truth sir, someone just bought it
Say Mr. Whispers! Here come the click of dice
Roulette and blackjacks - gonna build us a paradise
Larger than life and twice as ugly
If we have to live there, you'll have to drug me

Maybe these luxuries can only compensate
For all the cards you were dealt at the hands of fate
So tell me
Tell me! tell me! How to be a millionaire
Tell me! tell me! how to be a millionaire!

"How To Be A Millionaire" - ABC

This is my favorite ABC song and every so many years, the Brits school us on funk. Like Heatwave, Soul II Soul and...and...and...hey, they're due about now.

I'm not getting into why I missed the scattering of my Grandmother's ashes today, other than to say the fates conspired against me. I bring her up because the one moment I stopped mourning last week, I had realized that she won't get to share in my success when I make it. I say "when I make it" not to be cocky, but as a postive affirmation and to eliminate any doubt.

I know that it ate at Scorsese, that he didn't get to win the Oscar while his parents will still alive and he even hinted about it in a post-Academy Awards interview. Don't follow this tangent, Write Procrastinator went thataway!


Since the San Francisco Bay Area went from near-drought conditions to becoming Seattle South, I've been weighing my desire to become a millionaire. Why a "millionaire?" Because I want to stay in San Francisco and the condos in even the worst part of town start at $550,000 for a studio. Our apartment has pushed the limits of my rent-controlled patience, with rain water dripping through the front windows and the cast of Jackass downstairs playing beer pong...as well as cage matches, and God knows what else causes the thuds and booms. Can clog dancing and cock-fighting (or any undesired combination thereof) be far behind?

Taxi? Follow that Procrastinator!

So, the reasons why I'm ready to be a millionaire:

A) I love to travel

B) I promised the Missus I'd give her a tour of Italy

C) I've never been west of Hawaii

D) I've never been east of Italy

E) Good Lord, I want one of these!

F) I want my own fucking bathroom!

G) I want three cars. Not Ferraris or Bentleys, but I want three cars.

H) I want a house in San Francisco, as well as condos in L.A. and the NYC.

The reasons I'm not ready:

A) I don't work hard enough to be one. That means lots of queries to agents, publishers and production companies.

B) I need to focus on projects all the way to completion and then, rewrite them objectively and quickly.

C) I need to put in more hours on my writing.

D) I need to be focused, period.

E) I want to remain anonymous. As in, no press junkets, interviews and I want to eat my dinner in peace without autograph seekers or people pitching me. I also don't want to change my phone number and address with every other nut.

D) I need to put more hours into my craft.

E) I'm not afraid of failure, I'm afraid of limited success.

F) I bloghop and lurk too much

Who wants to be millionaire?

I do! - I don't! - I do!

Who wants to be millionaire?

I do! - I don't!

I've seen the future and I can't afford it