The Purple Pinup Guru Platform

When purple things are pulsating on your mind, I'm the one whose clock you want to clean. Aiding is Sparky, the Astral Plane Zen Pup Dog from his mountain stronghold on the Northernmost Island of the Happy Ninja Island chain, this blog will also act as a journal to my wacky antics at an entertainment company and the progress of my self published comic book, The Deposit Man which only appears when I damn well feel like it. Real Soon Now.

Friday, June 20, 2003


And even more mish mash. I suppose I'm not ready to dip in the bag of the continous stepfather saga just yet for recent bouts- and I've got such a heavy weekend ahead of me. In approximately 45 minutes, I'll be going to a sneak preview of the first two episodes of Sex And The City, a show that I've heard so much about, but never had got to experience due to the complete utter dearth of cable in my house and I've haven't chanced on buying the box sets yet. So here's my introductory package, so it should be fun. Last weekend I've purchased a bunch of emmy consideration screeners. If you're a member of the voting committee that makes up the emmys, chances are as Dan Evans, puts it on his Ska8e Jesus Delphiforum, ' it's going to be Christmas time when the mailman angerly keeps dropping off packages at your door' of video tapes from studios of what they consider to be the best of the their last season's crop. Since I'm not a member, I rely on second hand or used record stores to stock them. They get dropped off from 'unindentified sources' who unload them for a heroin fix, which sums up most of the people who work in Tinseltown, since these stores don't charge too much for them anyway. I paid anywhere from 2 bucks to 4 for a bunch of stuff that's already been shown on cable, so I'm going to be checking out episodes of FX's Lucky; a comedy that's supposed to be about a 'reformed' compulsive gambler helping others to kick the habit, and HBO's The Wire , a show that's constantly mentioned at water cooler pow wows. I also got some mini-series to watch like last summer's The Mists of Avalon and the theatrical release of Roger Dodger of which I should be citing bits and pieces of dialogue left and right on Dan's board in the callgirl thread of which my vitrolic views recently came under fire for my stressed opinion about the dating scene (So, what else us new?).

Also on my agenda is seeing the Hulk on Sunday morning at the Pacific Cinerama Dome- it's seems to my best bet if I want the ultimate in sight and sound ( see my entry two days ago for details), since there is going to be no IMAX presentation for the foreseeable future.

And I've got some 5 and a half hours to kill Sunday night to finally check out my Led Zeppelin DVD since everyone in the house is going to Vegas before record tempertures soar in the summer. I heard it gets extremely hot out there, I don't know if I handle the strain if I choose to meet up with family out there. I remember fainting in front of a department store when I was in my teens because of record breaking heat in New Jersey- shit like that can physically and mentality bitchslap you without warning. I can handle it out here because at least, I've got a 9 foot deep pool in my backyard- which is real convenient when I'm scripting on my word processor upstairs where ventilation fears to tread.

I still can't stop listening to this new Steve Hackett.-To Watch the Storms is most certainly the best album I've bought this year, just behind the new Radiohead and Arena. Each of the seventeen tracks on this special edition (the regular one has 13)
encompasses a transcendental journey through various degrees of style and instrumental integrity, from the classical guitar opening of Strutton Ground, the optigan (a toy organ) carnival passages on Circus of Becoming to the heavy metal vulcan mind melded riffs on Prozac in Mechanical Bride (of which I went into consider length about yesterday) all the way up to the serene flutes of Serpentine Song ( a small little park and lake across the street from London's Royal Albert Hall- which makes me long to go back to that magnificant city- it's the heart of civilization to me), and finally to the sixties decedence of the Batman theme song interspersed with other surf boogie treats in Marijuana, Assassin of Youth To those reading this board, I implore you to please, please, seek this album out. Steve's wife, watercolor artist Kim Poor, adorns the special book and sleeves with a collection of her most mesmerzing paintings.

But that's not to say that I also have a few Radiohead tunes running loopy around in my head. And I'm going to get into length about them when the weekend is over. I promise.

Until more fifteen minutes eventually pass,




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