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.

Thursday, June 26, 2003

THE RETURN OF THE MIGHTY FIFTEEN MINUTE BREAK June 26. 2003

TO THE BLOGGER MANAGEMENT TEAM: the new writing template looks sensational. I have nothing else beyond that to say.

One thing I'm excited about today is the return of Ren & Stimpy. The new episodes are part of a block of adult sophisicated animation programming that is premiering on TNN, another cable station that I'm not familiar with, but from what I hear, it's famous for having continous Star Trek: The Next Generation marathons. (I wonder why none of these cable stations, such as the Sci-Fi Channel have never considered running a 'Flash' marathon? You' know, the DC super hero who does everything with super speed? Was once a tv series that ran on CBS for a entire season. You can get a entire day's worth of programming. I'm serious, this issue needs to be addressed.) But I got a co-worker putting it on his timer tonight while he goes out for a press screening of T3.

other summer small screen offerings I looking forward to are all on cable- dammit. Teen Titans, new Justice League episodes, and a Showtime series titled Dead Like Me are all airing next month.

Anyway, enough rambling.

When I last left off in my fucking Hulk movie review. I was ruminating about sausage baguettes and when I posted last Monday, I was hung-over from the previous Sunday, but moreso tired from lack of sleep, due to Rebecca's pseudo-husband's all night bizarre activities. Which just goes to show: you can have plenty of shit- on- moments even when you think you're having a good time. I always get that same exact feeling when I'm down at San Diego every year. Even though I still find it fun to be there, but after close to twenty years, it's beginning to feel like a chore to do. But I hoping to achieve my goal of going twenty years in a row and I'm battering up for eighteen this time.

So- I had paid fourteen lousy dollars to get into the reinnovated Pacific Cinerama Dome (or, is it the Pacific Arclight Dome) and just a couple of days ago, on the Ska&e Jesus forum, some posted a scary rumor that the new restructured dome was now owned by Scientogists. But alas, all fears were laid to rest when the host of the board, Dan Evans took it upon himself to investigate by e-mail the management. Their response assured him that in no way was the property was even remotely owned by the Thetan tittie slurping twisted fairy tale theologians.

So onward, after I got my moderately priced concession goodies (which was quite a surprise- that those prices weren't jacked up like the movie ticket) , I had to wait for an usher to escort me to my seat which ironically was number # M18. Almost sounds like a explosive doesn't it? The seat was on the balcony, which really wasn't a balcony at all- not by MANN theatres standards (BTW: 28 Days Later opens at my burial ground this Friday: The Mann Village in Westwood- the best THX equipped theater in Southern Cal ) - if you have to climb a flight of stairs to get to your seat- that's a balcony, not three or four steps up on a raiser. Once I got to my seat- I realized that I would soon be in a world of hurt.
Since I had a single seat on a aisle- I had to sacrifice privacy and sit next to this group of people- who's end person just happened to be some enormous 400 pound red headed woman- who body odor smelled like a cross between some left over sour milk and a hippo meat patty-

I couldn't ask for a better date.

Find out the juicy details tomorrow-

For I'm outta fifteen minutes.

~

Coat
SOMETHING BORROWED, SOMETHING NEW? Thursday Morning @ 8:24 AM

I just stopped by to see what they done to the place. Tuesday I had class, so I couldn't finish my Hulk review rant. And these guys were busy remodeling the place yesterday.

Hopefully if I'm not too busy, I can get on with business- that is, if the department BBQ doesn't get in the way.

~

Coat

Monday, June 23, 2003

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A FIFTEEN MINUTE BREAK June 23, 2003

Saw the fucking Hulk movie yesterday. What's got me so uptight is not the movie itself, but the stupid boneheaded decision I made to where to see it and I'm never going to see a movie at the Cinerama Dome ever again.

I had the whole day planned out of everything I was going to accomplished. I usually follow a rigorous schedule on my days off- but nothing ever goes according to plan, usually because alcohol has to show up and spoil things- but yet, I did the ol' college try and things only ran an hour and a half behind- but I'm feeling the aftermath at work. I wish I was in bed, sleeping it off.

Let me tell you about it.

Got up around 7 in the morning to write some ideas I had for a Batman story. Something alongs the lines of a child abduction story as it's reflected in today's media- but looking at it from my perspective, being an uncle of a five year old, I'd be utterly devastated if something were to happen to my niece and I'd be willing to join the hunt for the sick mo fo who stood to get his cojones whacked with something more than a paddywhack for committing the foul deed it. I've had this idea for this specific Batman brewing in my head for a while now and it's something's just itching to estract out of me. I was thinking somewhere along the lines of doing it as a eight page Black and White presentation. Somewhere the Riddler fits into it.

After two hours, The old couple, their adoptive daughter Becky and her daughter were preparing to leave for Vegas and wanted to kick off 'their weekend' with a little breakfast before hitting the road. Some old champagne left over from last week's Father's Day gala was found- and since they couldn't take it with them- they offered to me to finish off the bottle and make a few mimosas out of them and they didn't put up too much of a argument with me. Felt I deserved it after getting two typed pages completed. A hour later, I showered and got dressed to take the subway to Sunset & Vine to catch the 12:30 PM showing of Ang Lee's THE HULK and arrived there a half hour early.

I was digging on the thought that maybe the fervour died down by Sunday. Everybody must have seen it on either Friday and Saturday and with my expectations low on the boffo intake (which thankfullym it wasn't: 62.6 million first weekend), so the maybe the theater won't be too packed and with just seven dollars for a matinee ticket-

Yeah, right. Try Fourteen dollars.

Fourteen dollars to see a fucking movie.

I can't fucking believe it. I made the trip all the way from Sherman Oaks to Hollywood just to pay $ 14.00 FOR A FUCKING MOVIE!!! when I could've walked across the street from my house to see it at the Sherman Oaks Galleria. WHAT THE FUCK WAS MY PROBLEM? - But, by the time I went back, I would've missed out on the matinee showing anyway and would have to cough up $10 anyway, so might as well fork the needy capitalist ticket usher over her goddamn five bucks.

I totally forgot- the Arclight Theaters (owned by the Pacific Theaters chain) is supposed to be something like the Ritz of multiplexes- but I would think that they would give some people a break when it came to weekend matinees. Unless, Fourteen Fucking Dollars was the matinee price. I think back to the time when fourteen dollars could get me into a live club gig on Sunset. I didn't come here to see a live band or anything- I came to see a fucking movie!

So what the fuck was I going to get for my measley Fucking Fourteen dollars? Well- I give them credit for beautifully reinnovating the place even though the screen itself looked as it's been shrunk down in size. The leather cushioned seats are like something you'd find on first class accommodations on a airliner. But what I don't want for my fourteen dollars is assigned reserve seating. Assigned reserve seating at a movie theater is the most stupidest fucking thing I have ever heard- what inane purpose is this supposed to accomplish? I mean, at least they do ask you what section in the theater would you prefer- but I'm one of those people on depending on the movie, has to move my seating position in several areas of the theater because I do get fidgety during the course of the movie. I need to try different things.

So once you buy the ticket, you get to the concession stand, you get the fresh buttery popcorn, hot dogs ( or in this case Sausage Baguettes in three flavors- Pesto Chicken, -

To fucking be continued- I'm fucking falling sleep.

~

Coat