Dead Aim

Elimidate.

So here’s the thing: Dead Aim is dead.

Over the last few months, my life has been in a constant state of change… All sorts of stuff has been goin’ down, so let’s recap:

1. I’ve been happily dealing with the fact that I’m going to be a father (we’re having a girl in October, by the way). This development hasn’t been without complications and terrifying moments, but it’s been an amazing experience, nonetheless.

2. There’s also been a crazy busy freelance job, which has been a tremendous learning experience (a trailer I worked on is now playing in theaters across the country), but also a lot of hard work.

3. And most recently, I’ve started a job as a producer and writer on a new talk show. It’s going to be great having a full-time gig and all, but the most interesting part is that the host is a supermodel. Should be interesting, to say the least.

Anyway, as you can imagine, these things and a few other projects I’ve been working on haven’t allowed for much cultivation of this little blog ‘o mine. It’s been a great ride, but I think it’s time to go ahead and call it like it is.

So to all of you who have read and checked in here from time to time: Thank you very, very much. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.


P.S. Go see My Date With Drew in August. You'll thank me later.

Three Things (Special Camera Phone Edition):

1. I didn’t even know I needed one of these.

2. I saw this hanging in a production studio the other day.

3. My sister sent me these a while back.


Three More Things (Special Camera Phone Edition):

1. The fine print you probably can’t read says, “Includes a clip-on ketchup cup,” to which I say, “Finally, no more ketchup on the dashboard.”

2. Even Sophia Loren can’t help but stare at Jayne Mansfield’s ample bosom. In fact, I don’t think any of us can.

3. Anyone else have a sister who worked for a company that made custom guitar picks for Johnny Cash? Just me then?

One of my new favorite blogs:

Postsecret

I love anonymous confessions... There's just something so liberating about telling your deepest, darkest secrets to someone who has no personal stake in them. I wonder what I should confess on my post card? Maybe I'll write about the time I buried the body in the... Wait. Did I just type that out loud?

I know it was Passover yesterday, but I just didn't expect to see the Dancing Matzahman in the grocery store.

I always thought he was make believe.

Earlier tonight, my wife and I decided it might be fun to drive by a condo that we knew was for sale and (somewhat) in our price range. When we turned down the street and drove into the neighborhood, we saw a bunch of television news vans waiting to do live remotes.

Me: Hmmm. That can't be good, right?
Wife: But this is a pretty decent neighborhood, right?
Me: Well, the condo looks decent, right?
Wife: Hmmm.
Me: Hmmm.
Wife: Hmmm.
Me: Let's go home.

About 20 minutes later we see a story about this on the news.

My wife and I were discussing our neighborhood the other day and its relative safety. We must talk about these things now, since we’re going to be parents. I think it’s a Los Angeles city ordinance or something.

I say that even though we may not live in 90210, we do live across the street from Beverly Hills--more officially known as Beverly Hills Adjacent--and that’s pretty good isn’t it?

The mother of my unborn child, however, seems to think we should consider moving.

Wife: A car crashed into our apartment building the night we moved in.
Me: But that was an accident, right?

Wife: Earlier this week, I saw a scrawny, shifty-looking guy standing suspiciously on the corner. He just hangs out, shivering in 80-degree weather until a car drives up, to which sticks his head in and SOMETHING happens.
Me: Exactly what are you suggesting? It could just be old friends reuniting. Have you no faith in humanity?

Wife: On a late-night dog walk, didn’t you see a guy pulled over on the street getting a blowjob?
Me: Yeah... But, can you blame him?

Wife: Remember when you saw the 7-11 clerk punch a customer in the face?
Me: But the guy was asking for batteries. Battery... Batteries. Maybe the clerk got confused.

Wife: What about the time we saw a streetwalker selling her wares about three blocks from our apartment?
Me: C’mon, this is LA. All the ladies dress like that!

Wife: Do you remember when they found that guy murdered in an alley a few blocks from here?
Me: Hey, if you’re lurking in an alley late at night, are you really that innocent?

Wife: How about the major bank robbery up the street where the police gunned down one of the perps?
Me: Honey, he was robbing a bank.

Wife: What about the time that 12-year-old kid made fun of your pants?
Me: ...

Wife: Well?
Me: It’s time to move.

If you read Surgical Strikes, you already know this, but it looks like Kevin of Life at TJ's Place is back.

Or is he?

It’s been one of the wettest winters on record here in Southern California, and while this has had many devastating consequences--deadly mudslides, homes slipping off foundations, trophy wives having to drive Mercedes through flooded streets—there have also been a few positives to come out of this.

It’s colorful around here. I’d even go as far to say Technocolor colorful, although not as colorful as Joseph and his amazing dreamcoat, but you get the picture. Normally when you look out onto the hills, it’s brown, “Giraffe Beige,” or whatever Pottery Barn color you want to call it.

Anyway, the reason I’m giving out all of this useless information is that last weekend, my wife and I went to the Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve. Just an hour north of Los Angeles, somewhere between the ex-gangbangers, meth labs, and biker bars lies this, this and this.

Amazing, isn’t it?

I know I said I wouldn't turn this into a daddy-n-me blog, but hey, it's St. Patrick's Day and I can do what I damn well please, right? If I want to go and fooster about and get fluthered with a bunch of chancers, I'll go and do it. Or conversely, if I want to spend my morning with my wife getting an ultrasound of our little leprechaun, well I'll go and do that too.

In the first picture, the kidney bean shaped area in the upper right center is the uterus with the baby facing toward you. You can see the head, body, right arm and right leg (don't worry - we saw the left tenticles, I mean limbs, too).

In the second picture, you can see a bit closer up, but at somewhat of a different angle. We think the head is facing to the left. Or to the right. Or maybe it was a gas bubble. Whichever it is, Happy St. Patrick's Day.

Out of 212, the top three search terms that brought people here are:

1. dead

2. aim

3. deam


Out of 212, my top three favorite search terms that brought people here are:

1. hermaphrodite (#21)

2. yardie (#69)

3. tightie (#203)


My favorite search terms are so far down the list, it's not even funny. I realize DeadAIM is an award-winning, feature-enhancing product for AOL's Instant Messenger, and that many people have stated "they could never use AIM without it," but that's not very interesting, is it?

So, in an attempt to stir things up a bit, please excuse me for the following:

shit, piss, vinegar

Okay, so this is going to reveal what an idiot non-techno-savvy nerd I am, but I have to ask anyway: Is anyone out there familiar with Movable Type?

Something else that's awesome: Beck's new album, Guero. I've been listening to it all day. Hell Yes.

This may not be of interest to anyone other than myself, but I just bought some Trader Joe's Peanut Butter Cups. They must be the devil's food since they're so delicious and chocolatey and peanut buttery.

It's my birthday. I have a baby on the way. I don't have a regular job. But you know what's nice to hear?

That a show concept I created is going to be presented to a major broadcast network.

Not that this means anything is going to happen, but still nice to hear.