Word Hell

I watched the documentary Wordplay, about the creation of, and affection for, the New York Times crossword puzzles. Watched someone author a crossword puzzle. I think I lost my mind just watching him create it. It's madness. Creating them, solving them. And yet, so many people do them. Casually. Compulsively. It hurteds my head.

The documentary claims that crossword puzzles are particularly popular among mathematicians and musicians. Something relating to how they interpret the world.

Well, they can HAVE them, because I fucking despise words.

Career things are progressing smoothly, except I've got too much writing to do. I'm not a fast writer, which has always been my Achilles' Heel.

No, Malice -- your Achilles' Heel has always been procrastination!

Eff you.

Dark Madders

A week dwelling on amusement park rides and now an inexplicable week of Winona Ryder pictures. How many people can Misanthropy Central alienate...?

All right. A month into 2007, I'm still finding my rhythm. I am on the precipice of losing touch with reality/humanity. I watch anything and everything for inspiration: movies, documentaries, sitcoms, dramas, cartoons, videogames. Things I've seen, things I haven't seen.

Sometimes something will jog a memory that'll be useful to me. Some things will present a solution to me. Some things are good to see for what they do wrong.

Sometimes a single word can help me. A word that I know, that I haven't thought of in a while, that just says something succinctly. A single word can solve a lot of problems.

I submitted my first draft to Paramount on Friday -- got a call back from the Paramount exec Monday night. He read it over the weekend. It's looking promising. That's a huge hurdle overcome.

More detailed notes to come Wednesday, but we talked over the broad strokes and I know I can sort it out. Laying down the initial groundwork was the toughest slog. I've proven I can write a screenplay. Next, I'll prove I can fix a screenplay.

I can't believe I haven't worked in an office since September. This is the longest I've been out of a 9-5 since I graduated from college. On one hand, time seems to pass slower: I can do more in a day since I'm not losing a block of hours at a deskjob. On the other hand, four months have passed and it feels like one month.

One long, lonely month...

Clouds in my Coffee

People are far too concerned with the private lives of celebrities. Agreed.

And yet, they're famous and generally pretty. There's something magnetic about fame, which makes them even prettier. And they generally date each other, and that gets in the press, and people like to project their own issues onto these celebrity lives. Their real lives become another long-form narrative for the public to identify with. Choosing sides in a breakup. Selecting their own celebrity avatars. Someone is cast as the villain.

It's hard to be above it. It's human nature to wonder. But you can never really know what happens between two people. Even people you know. Couples. Friends. You can't really know what kind of relationship they have when the doors are closed...

There's a newer phenomenon of ordinary people creating publicity stunts to proactively claim their Warhol-mandated 15 minutes. And there are also the sad people in limbo, halfway between anonymous and known, who THINK they're known and worth knowing.

I miss the 80s. I wish you could visit an era. Like some sort of time-traveling Disney World.

Anybody here grow up in an arcade? Back when they still had arcades.

Chasing Ghosts: Beyond the Arcade. I want to see this documentary.

15 Minutes of Shame

Sorry: no big confessional entry today. Rather, I implore you to read (and listen to) the story of Darren Sherman, a psychotic, socially-awkward J-Dater. It may be an old story, but it's the first time I read it.

Another old story, the strange case of Aleksey Vayner, a Yale student who tried snagging a Wall Street job by sending out a video resume. And became a national laughing stock.

[A nice parody video featuring Arrested Development's Michael Cera.]

This is for old school NES kids: Super Mario Kill Bill!

And if you think I've got too much time on my hands, check out this meticulously constructed trailer for Titanic: The Sequel. Thinking about how long this must have taken makes my head hurteds. I admire the serious tone of it. Incorporating the plot mechanics of an old Timothy Hutton movie I remember from childhood, called Iceman. What the hell is he running from?

Winona...

Now We All Know Better!

Punishment. For all my so-called "friends" living in Brooklyn, about to move to Brooklyn, or contemplating a move to Brooklyn. I've lived there. I was a child in Brooklyn, I was an adult in Brooklyn. I'm not blindly prejudging a place I don't know. The place is tragically faux-hip. People are loathe to leave their neighborhoods, or be away from their neighborhoods for long. And who could blame them since the F train sucks, the L train's queer, God help anyone who depends on the G train. And for all that, it's still pricey as fuck-all! In fact, one day I'm going to move back to Brooklyn because that's the kind of asshole I want to be.

As punishment for all my homies abandoning Manhattan, I'm devoting an entry to "Tattoo Assassins".

What's "Tattoo Assassins", Malice?

"Tattoo Assassins" was an arcade game. Rather, it was almost an arcade game. Aimed at 1994, the game was an unapologetic Mortal Kombat klone, attempting to rip off the formula and steal its thunder by just shoveling a lot more shit into it. Mortal Kombat has "fatalities"? Well, we'll dump ten times as many fatalities in ours... dudn't matter if it looks crap.

Before all you non-gamers zone out, what I find fascinating about the "Tattoo Assassins" saga is the sheer wrong-headedness of the endeavor.

Like any art form, there's a craft in producing a good videogame. A videogame may share some basic elements with movies and television, but film/tv are non-interactive: a story plays out and you sit there and watch it. A videogame isn't passive. It requires you to participate. There is an active dialogue between the Game and the Gamer. The Gamer communicates by pressing buttons.

Again, there's a craft in making this work. Game design is serious business.

The people who created "Tattoo Assassins" never created a videogame before.

It was made by a pinball company. Based on a concept by Bob Gale, screenwriter of "Back to the Future". The development process was rushed for the sake of exploiting a trend. And after all the hooplah and press at the time, the game was ultimately never mass-produced for the public's consumption.

Scroll down and read An Insider's Report. A fascinating account from a programmer who worked on the ill-fated videogame. (The same pinball company created a Guns N' Roses pinball machine, and Slash's ex-wife is a character in "Tattoo Assassins".)

Here you can watch a succession of TA's fatality moves. Some so crudely executed, they're not even animated -- just still images on a screen. The game did feature "Nudalities" where all your opponent's clothes would fall off (the way Patrick Stewart likes it), but you'll see in the video they're strictly PG affairs.

That's grand, Malice, but it doesn't explain the Winona Ryder pics...

I adore her.

Hope is Frail

Yeah, I've been revisiting Tom Fontana's OZ.

It slays me that Adewale "Wally" Akinnuoye-Agbaje has never used his actual accent in any of his film/tv roles. THIS is the first time I've gotten to hear his real voice and it blows me fukkin mind, yeh? (Made worse coz he's fielding stupid multiple-choice questions by Bacala and Howard Stern's girlfriend.)

For the time being, I'm fine in the Fortress of Solitude 2. But depending on how my career progresses, I really should like to find my Fortress of Solitude 3. I need more space. Yeah, I'm alone -- and it might be a while before I start going out with Winona Ryder -- but I think a little more square footage would help me mentally.

I mean, I'm not making excuses. Feng shui's an obvious scam. I don't NEED a separate office space to write. I can write perfectly fine in my little M-City prison cell. I can, have and will. I appreciate the psychological benefits of having a dedicated work space, a work space that's not cluttered, a work space that's free of distractions. And I aim to have that one day. But for now, I'm gettin by in my cramped, cluttered, distraction-heavy studio apartment.

When you're alone in the world, you can do whatever the hell you want to do. Because nobody really cares.

Take Anything You Want

There's something Lynchian about this clip. Thanks to the Son of the Mourning.

Sets my mood properly.

Finishing the first draft of something is a raw feeling. By "first draft", I mean that draft that you feel comfortable enough with to share with people.

Of course, this is my first "first draft" that I've gotten paid for, and there's a lot riding on it. There's pressure to deliver. No one's holding a gun to my head, no one's gonna mourn a failed screenwriter. I just want to deliver. I need to make it work.

I loaded this script. I feel good about it -- but I feel uncomfortable saying that I feel good about it. I mean, I might think it's pretty nifty overall, but it ain't really up to me, is it?

So anyway, it's like a raw feeling, turning in my first draft. I've been chiseling away at this thing for the better of three months, in near perfect solitude, and now I've got to give it up. Take anything you want. I just want to work. And, eventually, have children with Winona Ryder.

Some of them want to hurt you.

Last hours. Reading and re-reading, guessing and second-guessing. Screenplays are tricky because they open themselves up to interpretation. So many people involved in realizing the vision of a script. But if the right people don't "see" it on the page, it ain't going anywhere.

It's a first draft. I think it's something different. It's a horror movie, it doesn't have to be good, right?

Well, I need it to be well-received so I can have a big career and hook up with Winona Ryder. These are my goals.

A Final Solution

The hours counting down on my draft submission and my computers start flipping out. Had a bit of a scare this morn, trying to transfer a file from my laptop to my desktop. I swear, technology is a pain in the ass...

What I do, from a tech standpoint, should be infinitely simple. I create documents filled with text. It's a very basic template. Hasn't changed much over the years. No customization.

To work in the industry, you're required to use a specific application for these documents. Even though WORD is more than adequate to get it done.

So, here's my job: I write a text document on a laptop, transfer it to my desktop, print it and email it out. That's it. Why does this have to be difficult??? Just getting my laptop and desktop to shake hands becomes some sort of fucking Israeli-Palestinian conflagration...

Vic Mackey would know how to sort this out... (check it out, blop-op.)

And here's something I just ran across that makes my head hurt, especially coz I've been watching Luis Guzman on Oz:

Luis Guzman and two lesser-known actors eat cheese.

[The first one's a doozy. The oddest celebrity endorsement since Robert Loggia was selling orange juice...]

And another thing: Dying Fossil Shark Speaks Japanese.

Don't You Think That You Need Somebody?

There was some rumor goin round my old work place that I was "M.I.A." I'm more surprised that anyone bothered to start a rumor about me than that it's easily dispelled. I don't pray that often, but here's a prayer that I don't have to go back there...
XXX
Everybody get a load of those Oscar noms?!

Well, I don't get to vote on those (yet), but I do have my ballots for the Writers Guild of America Awards:

Original Screenplay:
BABEL
LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE
THE QUEEN
STRANGER THAN FICTION
UNITED 93

Adapted Screenplay:
BORAT...
THE DEPARTED
THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA
LITTLE CHILDREN
THANK YOU FOR SMOKING

Dramatic TV Series:
24
DEADWOOD
GREY'S ANATOMY
LOST
THE SOPRANOS

Comedy TV Series:
30 ROCK
ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT
CURB YOUR ENTHUSIASM
ENTOURAGE
THE OFFICE

New TV Series:
30 ROCK
FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS
HEROES
STUDIO 60...
UGLY BETTY

Haven't seen a bunch of these movies yet -- wish they gave out screeners or had some free screenings or something. I'm cheap.

I get to vote but I've got to buy a ticket if I want to attend the ceremony. $150 a pop for members. I may have to pass. It'd be kinda cool but I don't wanna dust off my old work clothes.
XXX
Last few days before my deadline... what the fuck am I doing blogging?!?

Om Namah Shivaya!

I bow to Shiva. I bow to The Almighty.

For a while, I thought Season Three was my favorite season of "Oz". Should've just checked the HBO site to figure out that Season Four is my tops. Also happens to be the underrated show's longest season.

I NEED SOME TITS, MCMANUS!!! TITS!!!

Knockin on Hell's Door

I just lost over a day being wretchedly sick. Had to be something I ate, but I'm not sure if I can pinpoint it based on the probable gestation period for these things.

I felt fucking deathly yesterday. Took all my strength to get out the house to pick up some needful things from Duane Reade. Managed to get a few hours of sleep last night. Woke up around 5am feeling significantly better. I'm not certain I'm out of the proverbial woods yet, but I'm feeling... clearer. Could barely concentrate yesterday, didn't get a lick of work done. I was afraid I'd have to get to a hospital. Hospitals are bad news in this country. I should move to Canada for their healthcare system alone.

Haven't been that sick in a while. Really puts things into a different perspective. An awful perspective. That old feeling of doom, don't you know... if I died this weekend, alone in the Fortress of Solitude 2.0, how anticlimactic would that be? I'd have nothing. I wouldn't even have much finished work I'd be leaving behind. Certainly a dearth of loved ones.

I really hope I don't have a deathbed death. Something long and drawn-out with a parade of well-wishers. Something painful that just keeps coming, renders me an infant with all basic functions. I'd prefer something quiet, like in my sleep. Something where I can maintain an ounce of dignity. And when I die, I'd like to just sort of vanish, like Obi-Wan Kenobi or Axl Rose.

Anyway, still recovering. I'm not 100%... but it's been a long while since I've been 100%...

The Soul of New Machines

All my tiggers at your deskjobs, do yourself a favor -- plug some headphones in and watch this promo video for the revolutionary Windows/386. It's a scream.

The document the fine young devotchka produces actually resembles the sort of documents that I was paid to produce for 6+ years of my adult life. Booyakasha.

I heart when the revolutionary OS gets up in her blood and she can't help but dress like Cyndi Lauper and start rap-rap-rappin'. A-rap-a-rap-rappin'. Stick with it. Pay-offs galore with this vid.

This is What You Deserve

Now, I wudn't no big geek over Transformers -- I thought the toys were cool but I didn't sucked into the show. I really just want to go into Michael Bay's Transformers movie this summer and have my socks knocked off.

That said, this new "Megatron" don't look nuttin like the Megatron I remember from like a kid. It looks worse than the Green Goblin suit from the first Spider-Man movie. Who's responsible for this?

[Adjusting nerd-glasses.]

Hey, you get what you deserve, nerds. Eat it.

Can a Tigger Get a Table Dance?!

I know this is old news, but I just wanted an excuse to write that entry header. Tigger what? She ain't messin with no broke Tigger! That's what's wrong with this neighborhood, all the friggin Tiggers, it's like a jungle up in here!

Wzxxmlvdv*zxxml

Well, that was good, clean fun.

( Hel p me , I am i n HEL L. )

Yep... real sophisticated, Malice.

Stay with me!

I get it, all right? Nobody vibed with the week of amusement park ride videos! I HEAR YOU. I was gonna do one more entry about the creepy, hate-crime-influenced design of the darkride portion of Splash Mountain at Disney World, but that's probably obvious to everyone so why belabor the point?

I try to offer you people something different and what do I get? An army of apathy...

A'right, Mister Man. You win. Back to the comforting mix of manic depression + self-pity.

I didn't have any birthday cake on my birthday last week. That was sort of the plan: no party, no cake. Well... I know it's childish, but I ended up kind of missing it. Blowing out candles, at least.

So. Today. Bought myself a cupcake. Didn't have birthday candles, didn't feel like spending 25 cents on them, so I took two big candles I've had for forever: cut them down to about ten small candles, arranged them on a disposable plate. (Above.)

Lit them up.

Beside my cupcake.

Made a wish... and blew em out.

Alone in my studio apartment.

Fucking depressing as all get out. At least that plus-size woman at Disney World went out for her birthday cupcake. I wonder if she was a fake. Like some hardbody talk show host in a fat suit, with hidden cameras. Maybe she was about to get married to some nice man and just wanted to do a little something quiet for herself. Maybe... her life was/is a whole lot better than mine. Regardless, that bitch is gonna haunt me till the day I die.

Everything may look tranquil on the surface... but there is something dying beneath it all.

I probably oughta write my stories out...

Everything. Is Blue. In This World.

People ask if I'd move out West. Or just assume that I will. Never rule anything out... but the idea, at times, curdles my blood.

Even New York City can feel like a bit much, some days. Maybe I'm too far west as it is. Perhaps I should live in the ocean. I bet it's super-quiet there. True, I don't know anyone there, but I don't really know anyone in California either.

I wonder if I'd have trouble getting my magazines delivered. You think the rent's more reasonable under the sea? There are a few things I should probably look into before packing up.

You Won't Like Me When I'm Misanthropic

From Universal Florida. A park I enjoyed so much more than I expected I would. It has got some brilliant attractions. The Spider-Man ride is one of the coolest things ever, and an experience that cannot be adequately conveyed through YOU TUBE. The Mummy ride is so much more fun than the movies that inspired it, it's almost as if the movies were just trailers for this ride. Shrek 4-D is also so much more fun than the movies that precede it. There are a lot of remarkable surprises at this place.

The Hulk ride is pretty high up there. It was the ride I was most dreading, because I'd seen a documentary about the creation of it and it looked psychotic. I ended up riding it three times, though. Had a bit of a headache afterwards, but the fun factor was off the charts.

Two videos...

This video gives the best visceral account of what it's like to ride this coaster. The sound is key here. Most of these rides are very loud affairs which contributes to the dread. Hold onto your potatoes:


This video is an absolutely gorgeous depiction of the ride. The sound is a bit too low and the smoothness of this video fails to show the level of turbulence you're liable to experience... but it's pretty as peaches:

20,000 Leagues Under the Sea

Another Disney World ride lost in Yesterdayland. Wikipedia tells us this attraction operated from 1971-1994. A fond memory from my childhood: dark, creepy. The narration in this video takes me back. Apparently, Tokyo Disneyland has a theme park that features the 20K-LUTS branding, though I wonder if it's the same.

Oh, here's a glimpse into my memory:



I don't want to lose sight of the reason I'm devoting the week to these rides. I kinda think it's fascinating -- people paying good money to go on rides they just assume are safe. Lining up to get strapped into some machine that's going to throw them along some track. They're all the safest things in the world (supposedly), but most of them play with this idea/illusion of "the ride's gone wrong".

Uh... ladies and gentlemen, this wasn't supposed to happen...

It's a fun little trick that gets used in some of the most family-friendly rides, and the audience gleefully plays along. It's very theatrical. There's something about it that I want to co-opt somehow...

Anyway, for those looking for an alternative to rides, here's a bit of comedy that Nicko made me hip to. It helps to read the descriptive paragraph attached to the video, to hype it up a little and give you a context for why you're bothering to watch this. It's funny!

And also...

Cock rings... cock rings... COCK RINGS!!!

(I like the expression on Bob's face that's like, "I'm sorry, those are all the cock rings I've got right now...")

Come back tomorrow, I'll be featuring a non-Disney ride...

ANY COCK'LL DO!!!

Mr. Toad's Wild Ride

Bit of a curio here. One of the extinct rides at Disney World...

I've the vaguest memory of this ride. Maybe not even that. Certainly evocative. A brief history of Mr. Toad's Wild Ride helps to put it into some sort of context.

I think one of the most intriguing aspects were that there were TWO different tracks. Yeah, there's a history of two-track rides, and Space Mountain's got two tracks, but eff you I still think it's interesting.

Track 1!


Track 2!

Expedition Everest

I've got to imagine that most of you DON'T have your hearts set on going to Disney World and can't give two shits about "SPOILERS" herein...

That said, let me say a few non-spoiler things about Expedition Everest at Disney World's Animal Kingdom.

I had no idea what to expect from this ride. There ain't that many rides @ Animal Kingdom, and "Everest" was the ride that was swamped as soon as the gates were thrust open in the morning...

It ended up being one of my favourite visceral experiences. And I owe a lot of that to not knowing what to expect. There is a "twist" that occurs as part of the ride, that I had no fore-knowledge of....

Watching the following video will effectively spoil that twist. So, please. Consider that. Honestly, who gives a fuck. But it meant all the difference to me. So, caveat emptor...



Sometimes, I wish I were dead...

Spaceship Earth

EPCOT. Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow. Punchline to countless jokes. Deservedly. It's a peculiar conceit. A world's fair that never closes. Of course, expos of the state of the arts/sciences offer an almost immediate obsolescence. Arguably, exhibitions could be continually updated, but a place like Disney World sort of trades on a nostalgia factor that is at odds with progress. The Peter Pan ride you went on 20 years ago is the same experience awaiting your kids.

Which makes a ride like "Spaceship Earth" all the more peculiar. Located in the iconic golf-ball of Epcot. A darkride documenting the progress of man through the ages, conceptualized by Ray Bradbury. Though the ride has actually gone through updates over the years (including a change in the ride narrator, from Walter Cronkite to Jeremy Irons in 1994), the overall experience is steeply, charmingly dated.

Audio's a bit scarce here, but this will take you through the ride.



And here's an exceptionally dated documentary on the whole thing.

Tower of Terror

Your free Misanthropy Central virtual Disney World trip continues with "Tower of Terror", at Disney MGM. A Twilight Zone themed free-fall type ride. Really a darkride combined with a free-fall.

The darkride experience was the most important aspect of the trip for me, in terms of gathering fodder. Examining the way the different Disney rides attempted to tell some kind of narrative by physically taking you on this journey.

One of the key aspects of the "Tower" ride is that the free-fall aspect is randomized by a computer, so that it should never be quite the same each time you ride. The number of drops, the height of the drops, it all gets mixed up so that you can't brace yourself... pretty sneaky...

I think this video gives you a great feel for the drops -- check out the reactions of the people around this guy:



The coolest aspect of the ride, however -- the aspect that separates it from just any old free-fall ride -- is the darkride aspect. The fact that your elevator MOVES FORWARD out of its shaft. Takes you elsewhere.

This video offers a better representation of the entirety of the ride.
SPOILER ALERT:



Thirty-one, man. I wonder if this year's gonna be a darkride/free-fall combo for me.

Space Mountain

Turning 31 tomorrow. In honor of nothing, I'm doing a week of entries on Disney World. I was thinking of using cell phone pix I took from my trip last month, but I've found a better solution...

Other people's video footage off YOU TUBE!

Achtung!

Some people may have their own romantic notions about a proper Disney World experience, and some of these videos may act as *spoilers* or dispel certain illusions about the rides. Obviously, nothing replaces being there and physically experiencing the rides... and I fully respect anyone's desire to keep their memories sacred.

That said --

SPACE MOUNTAIN with the LIGHTS ON!!!

I must say, I've got quite a fondness for Space Mountain. Though it's one of the few rides @ Disney that offers very little in the way of any discernible narrative. Still, what fragments of narrative do exist are creepier due to their lack of personality. Nameless astronauts without faces. A "mission" with poorly defined parameters. Closer to Kubrick's 2001 than anything properly Disney...

What *is* the space mountain......?

Victor Wong Will Have His Revenge

Ya learn suh'in new every day. Imagine my surprise when I found out that NewOp's pop is none other than the late-great Victor Wong...!

I reckon this e'splains his affinity for the celestials, lahhh...

Enemies of The State

How is it that most of my friends don't share my sense of humor?

Technically, I don't know anyone else (directly) who is a fan of the short-lived Comedy Central series known as "Stella". Featuring three of the original members of MTV's The State: David Wain, Michael Showalter and Michael Ian Black.

I don't care that I'm alone in this. I recently downloaded the entire series off iTunes (my sis gave me a gift certificate), and I adore it.

Here's a great interview with Stella, from Onion AV. Funny and informative. I never really watched The State, but I remember it being an exceptionally large comedy group. It's interesting seeing how it evolved and splintered into different camps over time...

I didn't realize that DW, MS and MIB did live shows as Stella before the tv gig. Plus, they shot all these short videos before the tv show came about... notably racier than the tv show. (I smell a YOU TUBE segue...!)

Humor me here -- it's really more of an archive for me.

STELLA SHORTS
"Bored"
This little gem features Sam Rockwell. Even if you hate the comedy, Stella is always good for some celebrity-buddy cameos.

"David's Cousin"
This one's for all the motherfucking misogynists out there. Come on now, you know who you fucking are. This is for you, buddy.

"One Shot"
Fuck you, Hitchcock. You're dead.

"College Reunion!!!"

"Audition"
It's like theater.

"Cat Video"
Excuses to get close to pretty girls.

"Raking Leaves"
This one features Will Tippin. Happy Holidays!

"Yoga"
Callie Thorne from Homicide! Hey, more Will Tippin, too!

Nobody likes Stella
From Tom Green's internet-show. Living on the fringes of celebrity.

THE STATEA few clips from MTV's The State. A bit rough around the edges, but there's potential here.

"Muppet Hunter"

"Slash Trap"

"Sleep with The State"

+++ BONUS VIDS ***
Cake Like
A music video for Kerri Kenney's alt-band "Cake Like", directed by David Wain.

Stanley Kubrick's "Day of the Fight"

January in New York

It's going to be near 70 degrees tomorrow. In New York City. First week of January. 2007.

Erm... what the fuck?

Somebody left a portal to hell open...

---

I found this sheet slipped under my door today. Whenever there's information to be disseminated here, someone types up a letter and slips photocopies under everyone's doors.

I'm not clear WHO writes/types these up. Initially, I thought it was my landlord -- but I never see him around here.

The next suspect is my Russian super, who's the guy who actually distributes the copies. But his english is piss-poor. And he kind of seems to hate the world. Perhaps his wife?

Anyway, here's the letter, "sic" throughout:

WEST 95th STREET

On Tuesday, January 02, 2007, a Robbery took place at [[my street address]]. The victim notice that the perpetrators were sitting on the steps of neighbors Brown Stone/ Town House. As the victim past the perpetrators, she was in fact follow by them to the above location (home). This is when the victim was pushed into the hallway of the building and Robbed at Gun Point .

In an effort to keeping the neighborhood safe the following suggestions should be adhere to.

- Call 911 if strangers are loitering (steps, block, etc).
- Do not buzz just anyone into buildings without knowing who they are.
- Do not let messengers, delivery- persons follow you into your building (for their convenience).
- BE SURE ALL ENTRANCE DOORS ARE CLOSED/ LOCKED.

Malice, We've All Got Pain

It's Nick's birthday today. Happy birthday, Nick. I'm a big fan of your text blog. That October 18th entry is, in a word, awesome. I'm dying to know what the next entry is going to be about. The results of the 2008 presidential election, perhaps?*

[HEY-OHHH!]

I'm feeling... better. Clearer. My sleep pattern's all fucked, but I'm getting work done and I'm reconnecting with my creativity. I mean, this is what I wanted to devote a lifetime doing, so it feels good to find my way back into a creative zone. I was struggling for a few months, but I'm finding a balance now.

I do need to try to reconnect with humanity at some point because I am like dead inside. All emotion's gone necrotic. The only things that are left are crude and base and abominable. Things to be concealed. Or put into plays or something.

Thank "god" it's Thursday, eh?


(* Point being, he doesn't update very often.)

It's Oh So Quiet

My three-month sabbatical from my day-job is over, and I informed my old manager that I warn't comin back.

Snip. Snip. Snip. Snip.

Did you hear that? Sounded like a safety-net being clipped.

Door's open for me to go back and temp if/when I need it. I certainly left on good enough terms. Never saw anyone leave on better terms.

But I couldn't go back. Not right now. I gotta keep my head in the game. I'll turn 31 next week. I'm in my thirties trying to build a new life out of nothing. Out of the debris of a fucking wreck...

Yeah, I'm scarce. Absence makes the heart grow apathetic, doesn't it? I've got about four more weeks to polish up a script that could be the difference between me having a serious future as a screenwriter or me going back to temping at my old office job. So January will be charged with discipline.

I'm severely behind on all emails. I've had to make some sacrifices.

That said, I'm sure I'll see everyone soon...