October 21st, 2006

Don't Hassle the Hoff

Penis Shots and Pot Smoking with a Hint of Anti-Semitism ... we call ourselves The Aristocrats!

I saw "The Science of Sleep" tonight. It's by Michael Gondry who directed "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind." Look, I'm not a professional movie critic; if you liked Eternal Sunshine or you like really trippy dreamy movies, you'll like this. Or, you know, if you think that dude who's in "The Motorcycle Diaries" is hot, you'll get to see his penis in this. Certainly didn't know that going in; certainly could've done without the 1:1 Glimpse of Penis to Glimpse of Boob ratio. Especially when it really wasn't much of a G.O.B. anyway, compared to the G.O.P. It's all moo regardless when you take into account the fact that whenever you see unexpected penis in a movie, it pretty much renders any female nudity you might've seen entirely useless. Yeah, the least hot chick in the movie out of the three is in this fantasy bubble bath scene and you can kinda see part of one tit and a little nip if you look really hard. But, full-on Gael Garcia Bernal schlong action through a peephole ... I can't get it out of my mind!!!

I went a little mad this week due to lack of sleep (speaking of the movie I just saw ...). I wanted to get to sleep super early on Wednesday, so I went lights-out at around 8pm. But, it was a real tenuous, dehydrated sleep. I was clinging on for dear life as it was, it didn't help that my roommate Liz was talking on her phone at 2am because she'd spent the entire previous DAY sleeping (until 7pm or so) because she'd spent the previous night getting laid. Look, I'm all for people getting their fucky-sucky on, but for Christ's sake, if it fucks up your sleep schedule, that's YOUR problem, shouldn't be mine as well. Compound with the fact that there's no sound-proofing in this building whatsoever (not to mention there's a one-inch space between her door and the floor), and I get my own personal front-row seat to any telephone conversation she might have. I don't care who you're talking to, NO ONE IS THAT FUNNY! I talk to my friends fairly regularly, I don't find myself laughing like a banshee! Get a grip, fuck!

So, I was awake from 2am on. When I went to bed at 8pm, I set my alarm for 7am because I had to get up and take a test with a third Temp Agency (this is the other agency who called me out of the blue). Once 4am and 5am came and went with me none the tireder, I knew I was fucked. So, I showered and got my ass the FUCK out of here at 8am (for a 9:30 appointment).

I'm certain I know exactly what it was like to be an African slave coming over on The Middle Passage to America in the 17th century ... because I've ridden on the subway in the morning-rush. These commuters cram into these trains like it's the fucking Amistad!!! I have a little low-level panic about me when I'm cramped inside with too many people around me, so this is torture. I don't do well in mosh pits unless I'm at an outdoor venue because I've heard stories of people being crushed by large mobs of people and I don't like it! Even in school, this was a problem. I always took to the desk nearest to the door or the window ... in case of emergency, I almost always know the quickest way out. In a fire, there's no WAY I'll be George Costanza "leading the way" ... because at the first sight of smoke, I'll be the one already standing by the door and running off like a fart in the wind before you can say Eric The Clown.

Anyway, like I was saying, crammed inside these death tubes, my body temperature rises higher than anyone else's it would seem (note the amount of sweat I'm producing compared to people of comparable body types around me), my heartrate increases, so does the breathing. But, more than anything, it's that panic I talked about. For the duration of the ride, I have this unyielding need to extricate myself from the train and all those people. But, it's no use waiting for the next train, because there's always a fresh batch of slaves ready to cram on in there! I just have to stand, hold on, and take it, until it's finally over. A half hour later. It's torture.

I dominated the next batch of testing. No errors on any of the data entry, with impeccable times. Only typed 76 words per minute, but zero mistakes after three minutes, so that's not bad. I'm sure I did well on the proofreading test too. The lady who interviewed me talked about this company who's actively looking for workers, but it requires a Drug Screen. I know there was marijuana at the party we threw, but I'm almost 100% positive I didn't partake (I say almost because apparently there ARE parts of the night I've forgotten). That would place my last known usage at somewhere in August (I'll have to consult my hand-written journal to corroborate) during the Road Trip with Kon and his skeevy whore-like friend in Hermosa Beach. So, I MUST'VE been clean when I peed into that little cup later in the afternoon ... right?

After I got back, I decided to take a nap for a couple hours because I was so exhausted from being awake since 2am. Woke back up at 5pm, ate some waffles for dinner, then decided to hit the sack for reals at 7pm. And, an hour later, the Jews came knocking on our door. This guy - the Hasidic Jew who works for the Hasidic Jew Company who owns this building and many low-rent, poorly-run buildings that are falling apart like it - is named Joey. He has seen the holes above our bathtub, toilet, and kitchen sink MULTIPLE times. They have NOT disappeared; they have NOT been fixed. And yet, Joey has to come in - seemingly on a weekly basis - and look at the holes and inspect them for wetness and see the bucket full of water that keeps filling from the holes directly above. We finally filed a fucking complaint with the city. This company and these people are continually trying to ... SCREW us! They hire idiots to come and look at the plumbing, who end up not fixing anything; then they hire the SAME idiots because they're too fucking cheap or stupid to hire competent workers!!! Now, they're telling us the gas leak isn't really a gas leak, even though we have a piece of paper from the GAS COMPANY telling us that it IS a fucking gas leak!

You screwed with the wrong people, Jew-boys! We're not pot-smoking Mexicans who'll live in squalor because we don't want you invading our space. We're good, wholesome (OK, maybe not wholesome) white people who'll WELCOME you into our apartment ... as long as you fix the brokedown shit you're renting to us!

After that, I was pretty fucking pissed off. So, I put some pants on and took a walk. Rented Oliver Stone's movie "The Doors," (Denis Leary sums it up the best: "I'm drunk: I'm nobody; I'm drunk: I'm famous; I'm drunk: I'm fucking dead. End of fucking picture. 'Big Fat Dead Guy In A Bathtub', there's your title!"); I was just in a Val Kilmer sort of mood I guess. He's awesome in Tombstone. I don't think I should ever go a month without mentioning that. Then, I stayed up until 3am to make sure that Liz finally went to fucking sleep.

And then I got to go to sleep! Hooray Sleep! Woke up at 2pm today refreshed for the first time all week.
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