I just got an Irrate phone call from God. He basically chewed me out for my last entry.
Okay, here are the facts:
1) I do not know Puff Daddy. I have a friend named Paul who was asking about God. Not Sean Combs. I did appear on a TV show. And I have a couple of rapping friend, and I have met numerous rappers through my friendship with God, but Combs is notone of them.
2) God did not resurrect Pauline Kael. I was just being (or trying to be) clever. God does not and will not resurrect people no matter how much you ask him, or how drunk you get him.
3) God will cop to getting drunk and telling me about Lohan and my kid.
4) God wants me to transcribe this, though he's never been as commanding of a verbatim convo: "Look, you and your entire generation are way too self satisfied with your smug and slightly phony self-loathing. You like to spin plates too much. I thought you kids were down with Yoda, and the whole do or do not. You just wasted an hour of your life making fun of yourself, but in such a way that smacks of self aware cleverness. For what purpose did you do that, to show what exactly. It's twaty. Stop it, or you'll become Napoleon Dynamited."
My promise to God: I'll try. I'll try to stop doing the aware and affected faux shyness. I will strive for true humility. And hopefully I'll get to the do part.
Showing posts with label God Talk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label God Talk. Show all posts
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Of Gods and Monsters
I was talking to Sean "Puffy" Combs today. Long story. One of the things I don't talk about much, my internship with him, like the TV show I was on for two years. It just doesn't come up all that often. Anyway, he hit me on my cell, and was like "You, dog, love your blog, why haven't you talked about God lately? Cause last time I hung with G-diddy, he was all like 'yo yo yo Damon's got the good blog, talking bout me all the time' and shit. What's up, you guys on the outs?" And we talked about my lady, and J-Lo, and the Cavs, and Kanye, and, well, stuff.
But actually, no I still talk to God all the time, but alas, having a preggers wife means carousing with the boys isn't as oft a possible, cause weekends are now prioritized as wife time. Which means when I can swing it after work I hang, but with LA traffic the way it is, that tends to mean an hour or two or a movie with the group on the weekends, and then maybe The Cat and Fiddle for a while (where it used to be we'd close that shit down). And even the evenings get to be shorter cause I like spend some QT with the wifey when I can.
But a couple days back I got some time to sit with the boys, and God resurrected Pauline Kael to review my blog. That's the problem with drinking with God, never mind the drive home - and it's hard to say no to God's wine cellar, and assorted pleasantries (I can only be so polite) - some shit comes up and it's exciting, and then frustrating at the same time. Moreso than watching Cheaper by the Dozen 2, which is simply torturesome. And then if God gets drunk enough he starts making promises, many of which he ends up keeping, and saying things you don't want to hear (like he told me where Lindsey Lohan's going to be in twenty years... and then he spoiled the sex of my first kid. But you can't get too mad at God. He's God, and he's some great verbal skills). So he brought back Pauline Kael from the dead to write a review of my blog. It was humbling, to say the least:
"It's interesting to note that the epistolary has come back into a new sort of bastardized vogue with E-mail. Though letter writing was dying as I was, the internet has allowed for instant communiques of varied length, to which the latest iteration being the Blog. But the Blog, like pop culture, is an emphemeral artform. It is fast food thoughts, with a shelf life as long as it is kept warm. It's sad to see so many of my colleagues drawn to them, but the advantages (space, lack of editors) are also their greatest shortcomings. There's a powerful sort of empty vouyerism to it all, the false honesty of a public diary. Artists may censor themselves more in personal writings than in art, and that is why an artist's art is usually more interesting than their reflections, even if grains of greatness and truth can be found in them. I doubt a great writer could perfect the art of the blog, but if they did, it'd be like mastering the Limerick.
Summoned as I was from the dead to write this, I was instructed to peruse Erratic Thriller. Immediately the blog is off-putting as the author feigns modesty with his header in an attempt at cleverness. And starting from the beginning as I did - which seems backwards - one senses the author (Damon Houx) finding his footing. Essentially, as two out of three items in his profile suggests, he is interested in two things, movies and sex (and sexuality), but his work is weighed down in the mundanity of his life. Which is the inherent disadvantage to the blogging form. His movie observations are occasionally clever if I am to be kind, though his reviews are often too brief and too stock. Like many of his contemporaries, he fetishizes films that don't deserve the sort of attention he gives them. Witness his latest entries, where he speaks more authoritatively and with greater interest about a shoddy remake of a horror film than of Ozu, whom I must admit I tended to find lacking (Houx does little but applaud an artist he seems to little understand) {Houx note: BULLSHIT}. Too often he is a status quo writer with brief bits of fancy, though too often he doesn't question the reputation of older features without giving them a curt dismissal.
Like any personal dialogue, it's cruel to disect and criticize someone for who they are - some people may just lead more interesting lives (but that too can be seen as a cop out, great artists tend to manage a sense of interest in life's small pleasures). But it's more unkind to the reader who has to slog through such pedestrian narratives. If writing were a protean artform this attention to the banal might have greater purpose, but all human beings eat, produce waste and sleep, while many if not most enjoy sex and culture, to which one wants to find insight into the human condition to make such observations of worth. Some artists have their diaries collected post humously, and one fears the bloggers who may find their works collected. If I were them, I'd make sure their blogs were wiped off the face of the earth."
But actually, no I still talk to God all the time, but alas, having a preggers wife means carousing with the boys isn't as oft a possible, cause weekends are now prioritized as wife time. Which means when I can swing it after work I hang, but with LA traffic the way it is, that tends to mean an hour or two or a movie with the group on the weekends, and then maybe The Cat and Fiddle for a while (where it used to be we'd close that shit down). And even the evenings get to be shorter cause I like spend some QT with the wifey when I can.
But a couple days back I got some time to sit with the boys, and God resurrected Pauline Kael to review my blog. That's the problem with drinking with God, never mind the drive home - and it's hard to say no to God's wine cellar, and assorted pleasantries (I can only be so polite) - some shit comes up and it's exciting, and then frustrating at the same time. Moreso than watching Cheaper by the Dozen 2, which is simply torturesome. And then if God gets drunk enough he starts making promises, many of which he ends up keeping, and saying things you don't want to hear (like he told me where Lindsey Lohan's going to be in twenty years... and then he spoiled the sex of my first kid. But you can't get too mad at God. He's God, and he's some great verbal skills). So he brought back Pauline Kael from the dead to write a review of my blog. It was humbling, to say the least:
"It's interesting to note that the epistolary has come back into a new sort of bastardized vogue with E-mail. Though letter writing was dying as I was, the internet has allowed for instant communiques of varied length, to which the latest iteration being the Blog. But the Blog, like pop culture, is an emphemeral artform. It is fast food thoughts, with a shelf life as long as it is kept warm. It's sad to see so many of my colleagues drawn to them, but the advantages (space, lack of editors) are also their greatest shortcomings. There's a powerful sort of empty vouyerism to it all, the false honesty of a public diary. Artists may censor themselves more in personal writings than in art, and that is why an artist's art is usually more interesting than their reflections, even if grains of greatness and truth can be found in them. I doubt a great writer could perfect the art of the blog, but if they did, it'd be like mastering the Limerick.
Summoned as I was from the dead to write this, I was instructed to peruse Erratic Thriller. Immediately the blog is off-putting as the author feigns modesty with his header in an attempt at cleverness. And starting from the beginning as I did - which seems backwards - one senses the author (Damon Houx) finding his footing. Essentially, as two out of three items in his profile suggests, he is interested in two things, movies and sex (and sexuality), but his work is weighed down in the mundanity of his life. Which is the inherent disadvantage to the blogging form. His movie observations are occasionally clever if I am to be kind, though his reviews are often too brief and too stock. Like many of his contemporaries, he fetishizes films that don't deserve the sort of attention he gives them. Witness his latest entries, where he speaks more authoritatively and with greater interest about a shoddy remake of a horror film than of Ozu, whom I must admit I tended to find lacking (Houx does little but applaud an artist he seems to little understand) {Houx note: BULLSHIT}. Too often he is a status quo writer with brief bits of fancy, though too often he doesn't question the reputation of older features without giving them a curt dismissal.
Like any personal dialogue, it's cruel to disect and criticize someone for who they are - some people may just lead more interesting lives (but that too can be seen as a cop out, great artists tend to manage a sense of interest in life's small pleasures). But it's more unkind to the reader who has to slog through such pedestrian narratives. If writing were a protean artform this attention to the banal might have greater purpose, but all human beings eat, produce waste and sleep, while many if not most enjoy sex and culture, to which one wants to find insight into the human condition to make such observations of worth. Some artists have their diaries collected post humously, and one fears the bloggers who may find their works collected. If I were them, I'd make sure their blogs were wiped off the face of the earth."
Sunday, October 30, 2005
I spent a week with God
Jesus. Not Jesus, Jesus, but Jesus. God called me Sunday night, and told me it'd been arranged for me to have the week off. And that I'd still get paid, and that I'd pull a couple of hours of overtime. Like the Military, when it comes to this stuff I have a don't ask, don't tell policy. I mean my boy acts in mysterious ways, like that U2 song.
God picked me up in his Jag at noonish on Monday (so to make sure my car was safe for the week) and dropped me off about thirty minutes ago to find my laundry done, my cat purring and my reviews written, while my head throbbed from a six day hangover. It was a long week.
Monday, we get in the car, and God's got a sixer of Newcastle sitting on the passenger side in a mini cooler. He tells me to crack two, and we drive around Hollywood drinking. God decides to mix things up, so he whips out his flask, and we takes pounds of Jaeger (God likes girl drinks, what are you gonna do), as we ride the strip. Our first stop was at the Arclight and Amoeba, as we looked for imports (I ironically bought God Bedazzled) and then headed over to the Arclight to catch A History of Violence for my third time. I loved it, God was mezzo-mezzo on it. "Eh, I don't think he had the balance of The Fly for a Cronenberg commercial effort." I thought he was wrong, but he loves eXistenZ, so I didn't press it. We then went to the Cat and Fiddle for more drinks. By the way, God (God has these huge balls) smuggled in a couple of beers to the screening. I'm getting kinda wobbly, but that doesn't stop the Fiddle from serving us. Some snacky type foods and a burger later, I'm leveling out. We head back to God's pad, and Jesus catches up with us, and makes us all some Apple Martinis (I told you these guys love their girl drinks) with PBR chasers, and pop on 48 Hours. Jesus decided it'd be funny if we took tugs every time the N word was said, and for Jesus that wasn't good enough (outside of the bar scene), so he decided that it was only worthwhile if we drank at every swear word. I started faking the funk, and by the end Jesus was hammered. By this point Lot showed up, and it was decided to watch Beverly Hills Cop, and (I've weighed putting this on the blog, but whatever) Lot whipped out some X. I've never done it before, but I think Lot's batch was more speed than the other stuff, so I had to start smoking a cigar to counterbalance the jittery teeth grinding. And then another. God then gave me my "year in LA" gift, which was a pipe, and some nice apple flavored tobacco. It's a nice pipe, and I smoked the hell out of it. Cop is not that good all things, but Murphy knew how to deliver, and the film works on that level.
After our four hour Murphy marathon, we were all rather high. Jesus couldn't stop rubbing the arms of the chair he was sitting in, and God decided we should go to Cheetahs. I'm not really a strip club dude, but when I'm hanging with the boys, I find it hard to say no. We get there, and I'm feeling uncomfortable but loose, and we go in. Now, I could count the times I've been to a strip club on both hands (mostly a place in Portland that had - I shit you not - a one eyed stripper, and a crooked pool table that cost a quarter), and it's not my normal scene. But we go in and these girls don't take off their clothes. I went from shame to indignation in less than 60 seconds. God wanted to sit up front, and we kept drinking. It was nine, and it was only modestly busy, so we got up front, and God just kept throwing ones at the girls like a fiend. A couple of the girls had a total mastery of the pole, and they had some great moves. After about a half hour I was ROLLING, and I notice that Lot comes back asking if we could leave. Turns out he got a lap dance, and well... We took off. Then we went to Shelter and God ran into Shannon Doherty. They had an off again on again thing for a while, and they went to a back room area for a while. Having been drinking pretty regular since noon, by eleven I had to head to the toilet and yakked the contents of my stomach fairly well into the middle stall. By some sort of miracle the bathroom was empty outside of Jesus (Lot got dropped at home, and... Well, he smelled like what we figured happened at Cheetahs happened at Cheetahs) who totally applauded my vomiting. "Go like a pro, Houx, go like a pro!"
For some reason, Doherty slapped God, and she took off, but we took a private corner for most of the night, and I was still rolling, so God introduced me to this girl Rachel, while he and Jesus took their shots. I was high, and I had a couple of pills left, and she was down, so we both took two hits, and with Lot out of the car, she came with us back to the pad. Rachel works in films as a key grip, and really likes Earth Wind and Fire. With God's guest room my bungalow we listened to some good music and by about six in the morning we were both coming down a bit and passed out.
When I woke up Tuesday it was four in the afternoon, and there was a number by the dresser, and an unopened cold beer by the bed. God popped in and told me that I was poked prodded, and tossed around, but was out out out for those ten hours. Hoping that the hair of the dog would help, I downed the beer, and ate one of Jesus's gourmet quesadillas with chicken, roma tomato, cillantro and four kinds of cheeses. I hit the TV room, and we threw on the first Bad News Bears, which was a perfect hangover cure. Alas, the four cheeses caught up to me and God, and we had a bit of a farting contest. After two hours of being awake it was decided that the only thing to do was to keep drinking. Keeping to beer, God had some Fat Tire imported to us (YAY), which I hadn't had in about a year, and we decided to do a BNB triple feature. It, as was expected, followed the laws of diminishing returns. Jesus stopped checking what's what on the internet halfway through Breaking Training and Solomon showed up briefly while we were in Japan, only to bail quickly when he realized we were on a mission from God bender. Then God played greatest hits with Chappelle Show Season Two, and it was decided we should just hang out at the place, while God ordered some great Meat Lovers style pizza from this place off of Delongpre (I think, I'm still kinda drunk from the week), and Jesus kept calling me Turtle. Jesus then decided we should watch Santa Claus Vs. The Martians (MST style), and then we all worked on some Glenlivet. At some point I blacked out during the screening of Manos, and then at some point we moved on to My Science Project, and then Top Secret (I think).
Wednesday, I want to say around five in the morning, I remember that we were at the La Brea tar pits, and Solomon, Lot and Jesus were digging in the tar, and God was taking pictures. I was camped out on a blanket drinking Chablis, and I don't really remember how we got there. Jesus did a variation on his walking on water bit, and some security guards came by about eightish telling us that we should get out of there by nine, which became "immediately" when I vomited in/on one of the pits. I have no idea how much sleep I got. I wasn't sure if I was still drunk or hungover, and not helping matters was our pit stop at Burger King. We get home, and God throws on De Palma's Dressed to Kill, which I watched all of, and then crawled my way to the guest room. I got up around eight at night, and felt sideways backwards. I got cleaned up, and got my Hugo Boss out of the closet, which God's maid had cleaned and pressed. I was looking nice, if not a bit dressy for this town. We went to some club on Fairfax, I think it was Largo, and hung out. Amiee Mann wandered in and gave God a hug. Of course if you're hanging with these guys, you have to get used to the banter:
Lot: Hey, Jesus you had sex yet?
Jesus: Does anal count?
Lot: Giving or getting?
Etc. The more Lot and JC get in them the nastier it gets. Generally it revolves around Lot calling Jesus a homosexual, and Jesus teasing Lot about how his wife cheated on him, and how he got Herpes from Gwen Stefani (which Lot usually considers a low blow, and then God tends to separate them). It's a loving thing, strangely. Rachel showed up with another girl, and I thought maybe she brought someone for one of my friends, but it turns out they are partners and as luck didn't have it, they didn't swing that way. In fact, I was so coldly rebuffed that as I walked back to our table the boys stood up and mooned me. The thing about hanging with these guys is that they get away with everything. If I returned the favor, I'd get thrown out, but I catch an eye of someone who sees the three moon fever and it's the bouncer and he's just laughing his ass off.
Lot starts claiming the place is a Sausage fest around 1:30, so we head over to Canters and I get a Caesar salad, and try and pick up the bill, though God's not having any of it. We get back to his place around three, and Lot tells us he's got to take off because Claire Forlani needs a ride back from the airport. Which should be a euphemism but isn't. God tells me around this time he hasn't been checking his messages for a couple of days, cause he knows what's going down in D.C. so he just tunes out. Around six in the morning after numerous shots, and some cigar and pipe smoke (ahem) it was decided we should go to Disneyworld in Florida, and we should all be on ether at the time.
The next two days are an absolute blur. All I can tell you is that Jesus broke my glasses, I now hate everything Disney, I vomited five times, with the last time me heaving up some rather serious quantities of blood. Most of what I remember is asking repeatedly to go see Captain EO. And shouting, I remember shouting, and walking around. I know that we went to at least two strip clubs, and I had some badunkadunk booty rubbing all over me, and deriving no real pleasure from it. Sometime on the plane ride back today, I opened my eyes and realized they were bloodshot, though I was thankfully sobered. I hit the bathroom, and the private jet had some visine in it. My eye were dying. God made a makeshift repair of my glasses, and I found out I missed getting tickets for the LA Metric show. When we got in to Burbank, we all wore sunglasses and God got us a Taxi to the nearest In and Out burger. He even bought the cabbie (Ronald P. Hassir) a 4x4. Food helped a lot. I don't know if I ate in Florida, though we may have just gone to Burbank. I haven't been to Disneyland in twenty years, and I'm clocking never on Disneyworld. Frankly the ether (which I think we all dosed about five times) just ruined me, and when we got back to God's place I crawled into bed and curled up for at least twelve hours. I'm finally home, and after a week like I had, I can't wait to go back to work.
God picked me up in his Jag at noonish on Monday (so to make sure my car was safe for the week) and dropped me off about thirty minutes ago to find my laundry done, my cat purring and my reviews written, while my head throbbed from a six day hangover. It was a long week.
Monday, we get in the car, and God's got a sixer of Newcastle sitting on the passenger side in a mini cooler. He tells me to crack two, and we drive around Hollywood drinking. God decides to mix things up, so he whips out his flask, and we takes pounds of Jaeger (God likes girl drinks, what are you gonna do), as we ride the strip. Our first stop was at the Arclight and Amoeba, as we looked for imports (I ironically bought God Bedazzled) and then headed over to the Arclight to catch A History of Violence for my third time. I loved it, God was mezzo-mezzo on it. "Eh, I don't think he had the balance of The Fly for a Cronenberg commercial effort." I thought he was wrong, but he loves eXistenZ, so I didn't press it. We then went to the Cat and Fiddle for more drinks. By the way, God (God has these huge balls) smuggled in a couple of beers to the screening. I'm getting kinda wobbly, but that doesn't stop the Fiddle from serving us. Some snacky type foods and a burger later, I'm leveling out. We head back to God's pad, and Jesus catches up with us, and makes us all some Apple Martinis (I told you these guys love their girl drinks) with PBR chasers, and pop on 48 Hours. Jesus decided it'd be funny if we took tugs every time the N word was said, and for Jesus that wasn't good enough (outside of the bar scene), so he decided that it was only worthwhile if we drank at every swear word. I started faking the funk, and by the end Jesus was hammered. By this point Lot showed up, and it was decided to watch Beverly Hills Cop, and (I've weighed putting this on the blog, but whatever) Lot whipped out some X. I've never done it before, but I think Lot's batch was more speed than the other stuff, so I had to start smoking a cigar to counterbalance the jittery teeth grinding. And then another. God then gave me my "year in LA" gift, which was a pipe, and some nice apple flavored tobacco. It's a nice pipe, and I smoked the hell out of it. Cop is not that good all things, but Murphy knew how to deliver, and the film works on that level.
After our four hour Murphy marathon, we were all rather high. Jesus couldn't stop rubbing the arms of the chair he was sitting in, and God decided we should go to Cheetahs. I'm not really a strip club dude, but when I'm hanging with the boys, I find it hard to say no. We get there, and I'm feeling uncomfortable but loose, and we go in. Now, I could count the times I've been to a strip club on both hands (mostly a place in Portland that had - I shit you not - a one eyed stripper, and a crooked pool table that cost a quarter), and it's not my normal scene. But we go in and these girls don't take off their clothes. I went from shame to indignation in less than 60 seconds. God wanted to sit up front, and we kept drinking. It was nine, and it was only modestly busy, so we got up front, and God just kept throwing ones at the girls like a fiend. A couple of the girls had a total mastery of the pole, and they had some great moves. After about a half hour I was ROLLING, and I notice that Lot comes back asking if we could leave. Turns out he got a lap dance, and well... We took off. Then we went to Shelter and God ran into Shannon Doherty. They had an off again on again thing for a while, and they went to a back room area for a while. Having been drinking pretty regular since noon, by eleven I had to head to the toilet and yakked the contents of my stomach fairly well into the middle stall. By some sort of miracle the bathroom was empty outside of Jesus (Lot got dropped at home, and... Well, he smelled like what we figured happened at Cheetahs happened at Cheetahs) who totally applauded my vomiting. "Go like a pro, Houx, go like a pro!"
For some reason, Doherty slapped God, and she took off, but we took a private corner for most of the night, and I was still rolling, so God introduced me to this girl Rachel, while he and Jesus took their shots. I was high, and I had a couple of pills left, and she was down, so we both took two hits, and with Lot out of the car, she came with us back to the pad. Rachel works in films as a key grip, and really likes Earth Wind and Fire. With God's guest room my bungalow we listened to some good music and by about six in the morning we were both coming down a bit and passed out.
When I woke up Tuesday it was four in the afternoon, and there was a number by the dresser, and an unopened cold beer by the bed. God popped in and told me that I was poked prodded, and tossed around, but was out out out for those ten hours. Hoping that the hair of the dog would help, I downed the beer, and ate one of Jesus's gourmet quesadillas with chicken, roma tomato, cillantro and four kinds of cheeses. I hit the TV room, and we threw on the first Bad News Bears, which was a perfect hangover cure. Alas, the four cheeses caught up to me and God, and we had a bit of a farting contest. After two hours of being awake it was decided that the only thing to do was to keep drinking. Keeping to beer, God had some Fat Tire imported to us (YAY), which I hadn't had in about a year, and we decided to do a BNB triple feature. It, as was expected, followed the laws of diminishing returns. Jesus stopped checking what's what on the internet halfway through Breaking Training and Solomon showed up briefly while we were in Japan, only to bail quickly when he realized we were on a mission from God bender. Then God played greatest hits with Chappelle Show Season Two, and it was decided we should just hang out at the place, while God ordered some great Meat Lovers style pizza from this place off of Delongpre (I think, I'm still kinda drunk from the week), and Jesus kept calling me Turtle. Jesus then decided we should watch Santa Claus Vs. The Martians (MST style), and then we all worked on some Glenlivet. At some point I blacked out during the screening of Manos, and then at some point we moved on to My Science Project, and then Top Secret (I think).
Wednesday, I want to say around five in the morning, I remember that we were at the La Brea tar pits, and Solomon, Lot and Jesus were digging in the tar, and God was taking pictures. I was camped out on a blanket drinking Chablis, and I don't really remember how we got there. Jesus did a variation on his walking on water bit, and some security guards came by about eightish telling us that we should get out of there by nine, which became "immediately" when I vomited in/on one of the pits. I have no idea how much sleep I got. I wasn't sure if I was still drunk or hungover, and not helping matters was our pit stop at Burger King. We get home, and God throws on De Palma's Dressed to Kill, which I watched all of, and then crawled my way to the guest room. I got up around eight at night, and felt sideways backwards. I got cleaned up, and got my Hugo Boss out of the closet, which God's maid had cleaned and pressed. I was looking nice, if not a bit dressy for this town. We went to some club on Fairfax, I think it was Largo, and hung out. Amiee Mann wandered in and gave God a hug. Of course if you're hanging with these guys, you have to get used to the banter:
Lot: Hey, Jesus you had sex yet?
Jesus: Does anal count?
Lot: Giving or getting?
Etc. The more Lot and JC get in them the nastier it gets. Generally it revolves around Lot calling Jesus a homosexual, and Jesus teasing Lot about how his wife cheated on him, and how he got Herpes from Gwen Stefani (which Lot usually considers a low blow, and then God tends to separate them). It's a loving thing, strangely. Rachel showed up with another girl, and I thought maybe she brought someone for one of my friends, but it turns out they are partners and as luck didn't have it, they didn't swing that way. In fact, I was so coldly rebuffed that as I walked back to our table the boys stood up and mooned me. The thing about hanging with these guys is that they get away with everything. If I returned the favor, I'd get thrown out, but I catch an eye of someone who sees the three moon fever and it's the bouncer and he's just laughing his ass off.
Lot starts claiming the place is a Sausage fest around 1:30, so we head over to Canters and I get a Caesar salad, and try and pick up the bill, though God's not having any of it. We get back to his place around three, and Lot tells us he's got to take off because Claire Forlani needs a ride back from the airport. Which should be a euphemism but isn't. God tells me around this time he hasn't been checking his messages for a couple of days, cause he knows what's going down in D.C. so he just tunes out. Around six in the morning after numerous shots, and some cigar and pipe smoke (ahem) it was decided we should go to Disneyworld in Florida, and we should all be on ether at the time.
The next two days are an absolute blur. All I can tell you is that Jesus broke my glasses, I now hate everything Disney, I vomited five times, with the last time me heaving up some rather serious quantities of blood. Most of what I remember is asking repeatedly to go see Captain EO. And shouting, I remember shouting, and walking around. I know that we went to at least two strip clubs, and I had some badunkadunk booty rubbing all over me, and deriving no real pleasure from it. Sometime on the plane ride back today, I opened my eyes and realized they were bloodshot, though I was thankfully sobered. I hit the bathroom, and the private jet had some visine in it. My eye were dying. God made a makeshift repair of my glasses, and I found out I missed getting tickets for the LA Metric show. When we got in to Burbank, we all wore sunglasses and God got us a Taxi to the nearest In and Out burger. He even bought the cabbie (Ronald P. Hassir) a 4x4. Food helped a lot. I don't know if I ate in Florida, though we may have just gone to Burbank. I haven't been to Disneyland in twenty years, and I'm clocking never on Disneyworld. Frankly the ether (which I think we all dosed about five times) just ruined me, and when we got back to God's place I crawled into bed and curled up for at least twelve hours. I'm finally home, and after a week like I had, I can't wait to go back to work.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
No, I don't want to talk about it with you...
God: Hey.
Damon: So...
God: Yeah.
Damon: Yeah.
God:... What's up?
Damon: Not much. How you doing?
God: I'm fine, how are you?
Damon: Doing all right.... Yeah.
God: Um... Yeah.
Damon: So...
God: Yeah, well. I don't know. I thought I should give you a buzz.
Damon: Yeah. Yeah, we haven't talked in a while.
God: So...
Damon: Yeah...
God: Yeah.
Damon: You heard?
God: What?
Damon: Well, I guess he's getting a bit better.
God: Oh. Oh. Yeah.
Damon: Yeah.
God: Well, that's not why I called.
Damon: Cool.
God: So...
Damon: Yeah?
God: You seen anything lately?
Damon: Theatrically dick all. At home, shit I haven't had too much time. I squeezed in Naked, and Mallrats, and threw on Hitchhikers guide for the fuck of it. Eh.
God: Jesus and I caught the Exorcism of Emily Rose. I walked out at the halfway point and went the the Cat and Fiddle. Got me a good drunk going when Jesus got out. He said it was the comedy of the year, but I ain't got time for that shit.
Damon: You shoulda done a double feature of that with Just Like Heaven.
God: SNAP!
Damon: Snickety Snap snap snap.
God: You're my boy, Damon.
Damon: I know.
God: And, yeah, you know, you're my boy, so whatever man.
Damon: Thanks.
God: Yeah.
Damon: Yeah.
God: And you can call any time. You know that.
Damon: Yeah, well, right now it looks like a false scare. Dunno. I'll know more this week.
God: Yeah, I know.
Damon: But thanks.
God: Ain't no thing, dog.
Damon: Yeah.
God: But if you want to talk about it.
Damon: I know who to call.
God: Fair enough.
Damon: Yeah.
God: Hit me on my cell tomorrow, if you've got a moment.
Damon: I will.
God: Cool. PEACE.
Damon: Peace.
Damon: So...
God: Yeah.
Damon: Yeah.
God:... What's up?
Damon: Not much. How you doing?
God: I'm fine, how are you?
Damon: Doing all right.... Yeah.
God: Um... Yeah.
Damon: So...
God: Yeah, well. I don't know. I thought I should give you a buzz.
Damon: Yeah. Yeah, we haven't talked in a while.
God: So...
Damon: Yeah...
God: Yeah.
Damon: You heard?
God: What?
Damon: Well, I guess he's getting a bit better.
God: Oh. Oh. Yeah.
Damon: Yeah.
God: Well, that's not why I called.
Damon: Cool.
God: So...
Damon: Yeah?
God: You seen anything lately?
Damon: Theatrically dick all. At home, shit I haven't had too much time. I squeezed in Naked, and Mallrats, and threw on Hitchhikers guide for the fuck of it. Eh.
God: Jesus and I caught the Exorcism of Emily Rose. I walked out at the halfway point and went the the Cat and Fiddle. Got me a good drunk going when Jesus got out. He said it was the comedy of the year, but I ain't got time for that shit.
Damon: You shoulda done a double feature of that with Just Like Heaven.
God: SNAP!
Damon: Snickety Snap snap snap.
God: You're my boy, Damon.
Damon: I know.
God: And, yeah, you know, you're my boy, so whatever man.
Damon: Thanks.
God: Yeah.
Damon: Yeah.
God: And you can call any time. You know that.
Damon: Yeah, well, right now it looks like a false scare. Dunno. I'll know more this week.
God: Yeah, I know.
Damon: But thanks.
God: Ain't no thing, dog.
Damon: Yeah.
God: But if you want to talk about it.
Damon: I know who to call.
God: Fair enough.
Damon: Yeah.
God: Hit me on my cell tomorrow, if you've got a moment.
Damon: I will.
God: Cool. PEACE.
Damon: Peace.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
5:30 AM, the next day
Damon: (weak) hello?
God: Why is it always my fault? Don't people understand fucking free will impacts everything? Things like who's in charge when, the weather, how people respond to facts... I'm not in charge of this. I left it to you bitches. It's not my fault, I swear. I had nothing to do with this, and Satan, Satan could give a fuck all. Actually (hands phone).
Satan: Hey, what's up?
Damon: Satan, damn, I haven't heard from you in a long ass time. How you doing.
Satan: God wanted me to come over. Have a little pow wow.
Damon: You still living in Burbank?
Satan: Hell yes.
Damon: (laughs)
Satan: Oh, oh. Fuck it's early.
Damon: Yeah, I'm gonna crash out.
Satan: You got my cell?
Damon: Nah, but I don't have my glasses on, so hit me on the email. If you're free this weekend, it's been too long.
Satan: God mentioned you guys were going to hang out.
Damon: Maybe Friday or Saturday after work?
Satan: Sure.
Damon: Aight.
Satan: Good morning.
Damon: Good morning.
God: Why is it always my fault? Don't people understand fucking free will impacts everything? Things like who's in charge when, the weather, how people respond to facts... I'm not in charge of this. I left it to you bitches. It's not my fault, I swear. I had nothing to do with this, and Satan, Satan could give a fuck all. Actually (hands phone).
Satan: Hey, what's up?
Damon: Satan, damn, I haven't heard from you in a long ass time. How you doing.
Satan: God wanted me to come over. Have a little pow wow.
Damon: You still living in Burbank?
Satan: Hell yes.
Damon: (laughs)
Satan: Oh, oh. Fuck it's early.
Damon: Yeah, I'm gonna crash out.
Satan: You got my cell?
Damon: Nah, but I don't have my glasses on, so hit me on the email. If you're free this weekend, it's been too long.
Satan: God mentioned you guys were going to hang out.
Damon: Maybe Friday or Saturday after work?
Satan: Sure.
Damon: Aight.
Satan: Good morning.
Damon: Good morning.
A very Special Conversation
Damon: You've reached Damon and this is my answering machine.
God: Pick up. Pick up, pick up pick up. (Click)
Damon: What, it's three thirty in the morning.
God: Oh hey, Damon, how's it going.
Damon: Tired, I was sleeping. I've been watching a lot of movies, writing. What's up?
God: You're asking me what's up?
Damon: Yeah, you're probably pretty busy these days.
God: My phone has not stopped ringing for the last week and change, and I haven't talked to you in forever.
Damon: Well, people want to know what's up.
God: That they do.
Damon: How you hangin?
God: Oh, I'm exausted. Fucking hell.
Damon: I won't even get you started on it then.
God: You see that Kanye West thing?
Damon: Yeah, it made me chuckle.
God: That's some great rock and roll suicide, right there.
Damon: I don't think it'll hurt his career, but it may politicize him in the future.
God: We shall see. The problem with events like this is people want to call it like they see it, but unfortunately they see it blinded by their emotions.
Damon: If ever there was a time to be.
God: True dat.
Damon: So, you seen anything lately?
God: What is this free time you speak of.
Damon: Hey, you're God.
God: I know. All right, all right, I was on the phone and watched Babe with the sound off.
Damon: The pig movie?
God: Yeah. It was a nice pick me up.
Damon: I was watching some Star Trek lately.
God: Jesus Damon, how long's it been since you've had a girlfriend?
Damon: Long enough, but that's not the point.
God: Look if you start down that road, you know, your dick could fall off before you date someone.
Damon: It's mostly at work.
God: Mostly.
Damon: Mostly.
God: Yeah right.
Damon: Anyway, I saw this footage on the supplements...
God: You get paid to watch supplements now?
Damon: Yes.
God: And...
Damon: Well George Takei talked abotu growing up in an American Concentration camp, and it made me think how we're only sixty years removed from that. I mean, I grew up in the cold war, but it was always a removed threat. My generation saw no wars, but not so long before I was born people like LBJ were buying elections. I guess I find it sort of comforting to know that we're not all that far removed from primitive times, and we've made leaps and bounds in the last half a century. It's not much of a hope, but it's something.
God: I was afraid this would all be a roundabout criticism of me.
Damon: Nah, I'm not like that.
God: I don't think this is going to settle down for a while.
Damon: Not until a lot of people are fired, for one, and, you know, New Orleans...
God: Look, why don't we plan some down time this weekend. Maybe just you and me. I got herb, I got drinks, we can get our chill on.
Damon: Herb? Oregano?
God: I'm just saying it's been a rough couple, and I might want to get stoned.
Damon: Does that mean I'm driving?
God: Probably. Maybe hit a tittie bar or three.
Damon: You paying?
God: Shit, I'll even buy you a lap dance if you like.
Damon: Not my scene, but, you know, I can't say no to you.
God: And that's what I like aboucha.
Damon: Bull shit.
God: Nah, I know. Sorry for waking you.
Damon: You know, man, any time. For you. I know how bad it's got to be.
God: You have no idea. PEACE! (Click)
God: Pick up. Pick up, pick up pick up. (Click)
Damon: What, it's three thirty in the morning.
God: Oh hey, Damon, how's it going.
Damon: Tired, I was sleeping. I've been watching a lot of movies, writing. What's up?
God: You're asking me what's up?
Damon: Yeah, you're probably pretty busy these days.
God: My phone has not stopped ringing for the last week and change, and I haven't talked to you in forever.
Damon: Well, people want to know what's up.
God: That they do.
Damon: How you hangin?
God: Oh, I'm exausted. Fucking hell.
Damon: I won't even get you started on it then.
God: You see that Kanye West thing?
Damon: Yeah, it made me chuckle.
God: That's some great rock and roll suicide, right there.
Damon: I don't think it'll hurt his career, but it may politicize him in the future.
God: We shall see. The problem with events like this is people want to call it like they see it, but unfortunately they see it blinded by their emotions.
Damon: If ever there was a time to be.
God: True dat.
Damon: So, you seen anything lately?
God: What is this free time you speak of.
Damon: Hey, you're God.
God: I know. All right, all right, I was on the phone and watched Babe with the sound off.
Damon: The pig movie?
God: Yeah. It was a nice pick me up.
Damon: I was watching some Star Trek lately.
God: Jesus Damon, how long's it been since you've had a girlfriend?
Damon: Long enough, but that's not the point.
God: Look if you start down that road, you know, your dick could fall off before you date someone.
Damon: It's mostly at work.
God: Mostly.
Damon: Mostly.
God: Yeah right.
Damon: Anyway, I saw this footage on the supplements...
God: You get paid to watch supplements now?
Damon: Yes.
God: And...
Damon: Well George Takei talked abotu growing up in an American Concentration camp, and it made me think how we're only sixty years removed from that. I mean, I grew up in the cold war, but it was always a removed threat. My generation saw no wars, but not so long before I was born people like LBJ were buying elections. I guess I find it sort of comforting to know that we're not all that far removed from primitive times, and we've made leaps and bounds in the last half a century. It's not much of a hope, but it's something.
God: I was afraid this would all be a roundabout criticism of me.
Damon: Nah, I'm not like that.
God: I don't think this is going to settle down for a while.
Damon: Not until a lot of people are fired, for one, and, you know, New Orleans...
God: Look, why don't we plan some down time this weekend. Maybe just you and me. I got herb, I got drinks, we can get our chill on.
Damon: Herb? Oregano?
God: I'm just saying it's been a rough couple, and I might want to get stoned.
Damon: Does that mean I'm driving?
God: Probably. Maybe hit a tittie bar or three.
Damon: You paying?
God: Shit, I'll even buy you a lap dance if you like.
Damon: Not my scene, but, you know, I can't say no to you.
God: And that's what I like aboucha.
Damon: Bull shit.
God: Nah, I know. Sorry for waking you.
Damon: You know, man, any time. For you. I know how bad it's got to be.
God: You have no idea. PEACE! (Click)
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Just a slob like one of us
Damon: I was thinking about Monkeybone today.
God: How many times have I heard a conversation start that way?
Damon: Too many I'm sure. I was thinking about how they have that joke where Stephen King is in hell because a less creative spirit took over his body. That's a pretty clever gag.
God:...
Damon: I thought about it. Didn't he write a short story about a possessed doll that kills?
God: Of course, every lazy horror trope he's taken and turned into something.
Damon: I wonder if he has a dictaphone.
God: "Note to self: possessed DVD player that shows people their deaths."
Damon: "Note to self: an evil supermarket that takes people's souls."
God: "Note to self: start the stories with quotes from Rock N' Roll songs. Wait..."
Damon: Hey now.
God: Dude, he sucks now, have you read his latest EW thing?
Damon: Nah.
God: He should commence the whittling, and suck on a corn pipe.
Damon: I wonder if he pursued the high price trim in his coke days. That would have been awesome. Killer Steve slaying the ladies. Awesome.
God: You seen anything good lately?
Damon: I liked Last Days a lot but I saw that with you, so... I liked Hustle and Flow, thought the Flight of the Phoenix remake was solid. Watched Ray last night. Meh. Good music.
God: But how do you fuck that up?
Damon: Dunno. Oh, I watched Bedazzled again, such a great film.
God: It's sad to think they're both dead.
Damon: I know, Peter Cook, such a genius.
God: Indeed.
Damon: What have you been up to lately?
God: Oh, you know. This and that. Rob Cohen and I have been hanging out a lot lately. He knew Stealth wasn't going to hit, but he's been taking it hard.
Damon: At least he got to fuck Asia.
God: Girls with daddy issues: always hot.
Damon: For sure.
God: And Jesus has been sort of mopey lately.
Damon: Any reason?
God: No reason. I guess it's that time of the month. He was dating Eva Mendez for a couple, and then that ended poorly.
Damon: Why?
God: Religous differences, I guess.
Damon: You.
God: She didn't believe in him, but mostly cause he was balling Kirsten Dunst on the side.
Damon: She is a side dish.
God: Oh well.
Damon: You been seeing anyone?
God: Me, nah. After Ali McGraw broke my heart in 84, I stay away from actresses.
Damon: You should date rock stars. The life of the road, meng.
God: Tell me about it. Stick it to Eve, or something.
Damon: She let you blow her mind, I'm sure.
God: You're not going to go for the sex tape reference?
Damon: Not today.
God: Well, you've got that going for you.
Damon: ZING!
God: And I'm out.
Damon: Chocolate Factory this week?
God: Yeah, maybe, hit me on my cell.
Damon: Done.
God: Peace.
Damon: Later.
God: How many times have I heard a conversation start that way?
Damon: Too many I'm sure. I was thinking about how they have that joke where Stephen King is in hell because a less creative spirit took over his body. That's a pretty clever gag.
God:...
Damon: I thought about it. Didn't he write a short story about a possessed doll that kills?
God: Of course, every lazy horror trope he's taken and turned into something.
Damon: I wonder if he has a dictaphone.
God: "Note to self: possessed DVD player that shows people their deaths."
Damon: "Note to self: an evil supermarket that takes people's souls."
God: "Note to self: start the stories with quotes from Rock N' Roll songs. Wait..."
Damon: Hey now.
God: Dude, he sucks now, have you read his latest EW thing?
Damon: Nah.
God: He should commence the whittling, and suck on a corn pipe.
Damon: I wonder if he pursued the high price trim in his coke days. That would have been awesome. Killer Steve slaying the ladies. Awesome.
God: You seen anything good lately?
Damon: I liked Last Days a lot but I saw that with you, so... I liked Hustle and Flow, thought the Flight of the Phoenix remake was solid. Watched Ray last night. Meh. Good music.
God: But how do you fuck that up?
Damon: Dunno. Oh, I watched Bedazzled again, such a great film.
God: It's sad to think they're both dead.
Damon: I know, Peter Cook, such a genius.
God: Indeed.
Damon: What have you been up to lately?
God: Oh, you know. This and that. Rob Cohen and I have been hanging out a lot lately. He knew Stealth wasn't going to hit, but he's been taking it hard.
Damon: At least he got to fuck Asia.
God: Girls with daddy issues: always hot.
Damon: For sure.
God: And Jesus has been sort of mopey lately.
Damon: Any reason?
God: No reason. I guess it's that time of the month. He was dating Eva Mendez for a couple, and then that ended poorly.
Damon: Why?
God: Religous differences, I guess.
Damon: You.
God: She didn't believe in him, but mostly cause he was balling Kirsten Dunst on the side.
Damon: She is a side dish.
God: Oh well.
Damon: You been seeing anyone?
God: Me, nah. After Ali McGraw broke my heart in 84, I stay away from actresses.
Damon: You should date rock stars. The life of the road, meng.
God: Tell me about it. Stick it to Eve, or something.
Damon: She let you blow her mind, I'm sure.
God: You're not going to go for the sex tape reference?
Damon: Not today.
God: Well, you've got that going for you.
Damon: ZING!
God: And I'm out.
Damon: Chocolate Factory this week?
God: Yeah, maybe, hit me on my cell.
Damon: Done.
God: Peace.
Damon: Later.
Saturday, July 09, 2005
Are you there God? It's me Damon.
God: What it is my foxy Houxy.
Damon: I'm awake. I got that going for me.
God: Caddyshack references 25 years after the fact?
Damon: I'm still waiting for "Exxxxcuse me!" to make a comeback.
God: Aren't you though.
Damon: So how are you?
God: You know, same old same old, went with the boys to a gentleman's club last night.
Damon: With Mordecai?
God: Yeah, dude's gotten religious about not drinking. He's really good. Unfortunately he's been on Lot about his problem. Oh, though now he smokes a lot more weed. But he's not an alcoholic.
Damon: Heh.
God: I heard you've been slammed lately.
Damon: Fucking like a motherfucker, yeah. Work's been kicking my ass. I go home tired. I'm also trying to cut down my caffeine, since I drink at least six Diet Pepsi's a day.
God: You picked a bad time to stop sniffing glue.
Damon: Twenty five years after the fact?
God: On topic, Damon.
Damon: But the worst was yesterday, me and some coworkers went to a nice Italian restaurant, and it kicked all our asses, and then dealing with lack of caffeine, lemme tell you I was passing out. But after work we went out for some Sushi and drinks.
God: How'd that go?
Damon: Fine. When you're with coworkers, you want to get the buzz going but not a full intoxication, if you know what I mean.
God: For sure.
Damon: And then of course, this town and driving.
God: You are being so felt.
Damon: So after Sushi we go to a bar, and some other people we work with are at the bar, and the cute girl from the elevator story was there.
God: The one who farted?
Damon: No, the other elevator story. The one I was like "God Damn." about.
God: You want me to damn her?
Damon: No.
God: You want me to hook that up?
Damon: Nah, dog, I got it if I'm getting it. But it was funny to try and bust a mack in front of my boss and coworker. She was not in a position for me to get a lot of talking done when we came inside, and it seems she was with a guy.
God: Pressure's on.
Damon: But she remembered me from the elevator, so I got that.
God: Pussy.
Damon: Dog, I wasn't going to call my shot in front of coworkers, damn.
God: So what you're saying is that you're a sopping wet vagina.
Damon: You gonna drop it?
God: No.
Damon: The best part was that I was walking back to my car, and I was lost in thought. I don't know the Valley all that well, so I ended up walking about ten blocks past my car, though I must admit the walk helped sober me up a bit. And I ran into someone I know while walking. I guess that's the sort of guy I am.
God: It's a strange world.
Damon: ....
God: What's the gameplan for you this weekend?
Damon:Thinking about Fantastic Four.
God: I wouldn't go if I were you.
Damon: Fair enough. Like I said, thinking. And I got a friend coming in from out of town tonight.
God: Rock on with your bad self.
Damon: I will. And you?
God: Maybe War of the Worlds. I'm thinking about it.
Damon: Eh. I should catch it in the next week or so.
God: Luck to that.
Damon: Indeed.
God: Peace out.
Damon: PEACE.
Damon: I'm awake. I got that going for me.
God: Caddyshack references 25 years after the fact?
Damon: I'm still waiting for "Exxxxcuse me!" to make a comeback.
God: Aren't you though.
Damon: So how are you?
God: You know, same old same old, went with the boys to a gentleman's club last night.
Damon: With Mordecai?
God: Yeah, dude's gotten religious about not drinking. He's really good. Unfortunately he's been on Lot about his problem. Oh, though now he smokes a lot more weed. But he's not an alcoholic.
Damon: Heh.
God: I heard you've been slammed lately.
Damon: Fucking like a motherfucker, yeah. Work's been kicking my ass. I go home tired. I'm also trying to cut down my caffeine, since I drink at least six Diet Pepsi's a day.
God: You picked a bad time to stop sniffing glue.
Damon: Twenty five years after the fact?
God: On topic, Damon.
Damon: But the worst was yesterday, me and some coworkers went to a nice Italian restaurant, and it kicked all our asses, and then dealing with lack of caffeine, lemme tell you I was passing out. But after work we went out for some Sushi and drinks.
God: How'd that go?
Damon: Fine. When you're with coworkers, you want to get the buzz going but not a full intoxication, if you know what I mean.
God: For sure.
Damon: And then of course, this town and driving.
God: You are being so felt.
Damon: So after Sushi we go to a bar, and some other people we work with are at the bar, and the cute girl from the elevator story was there.
God: The one who farted?
Damon: No, the other elevator story. The one I was like "God Damn." about.
God: You want me to damn her?
Damon: No.
God: You want me to hook that up?
Damon: Nah, dog, I got it if I'm getting it. But it was funny to try and bust a mack in front of my boss and coworker. She was not in a position for me to get a lot of talking done when we came inside, and it seems she was with a guy.
God: Pressure's on.
Damon: But she remembered me from the elevator, so I got that.
God: Pussy.
Damon: Dog, I wasn't going to call my shot in front of coworkers, damn.
God: So what you're saying is that you're a sopping wet vagina.
Damon: You gonna drop it?
God: No.
Damon: The best part was that I was walking back to my car, and I was lost in thought. I don't know the Valley all that well, so I ended up walking about ten blocks past my car, though I must admit the walk helped sober me up a bit. And I ran into someone I know while walking. I guess that's the sort of guy I am.
God: It's a strange world.
Damon: ....
God: What's the gameplan for you this weekend?
Damon:Thinking about Fantastic Four.
God: I wouldn't go if I were you.
Damon: Fair enough. Like I said, thinking. And I got a friend coming in from out of town tonight.
God: Rock on with your bad self.
Damon: I will. And you?
God: Maybe War of the Worlds. I'm thinking about it.
Damon: Eh. I should catch it in the next week or so.
God: Luck to that.
Damon: Indeed.
God: Peace out.
Damon: PEACE.
Friday, June 10, 2005
Twice in one week? A miracle
Damon: Hey God.
God: Who is it?
Damon: It's me. Damon?
God: I don't know this number.
Damon: I'm calling from my land line.
God: Fuck. I can't believe I didn't spot it. I expect you to call on your cell phone.
Damon: Well, I got home and I'm hanging out.
God: What have you been up to?
Damon: Eh. I had to run errands after work, payday and all. Got a new shower curtain, assorted toiletries, and some cat supplies. Oh, and I swung by Amoeba and grabbed Paris, Texas, The Driver, and Forty Guns.
God: Which you'll have no time for this weekend.
Damon: Fucking tell me about it.
God: So, what are your plans for the weekend?
Damon: I'm going to finally catch Kingdom of Heaven over the weekend, I got a pass to see it, so I feel like I should.
God: Good deal.
Damon: I may catch Mr. and Mrs. Smith or Howl's Moving Castle if I can.
God: When?
Damon: Dunno, why you down?
God: More for the Miyazaki, depends if it's dubbed or not.
Damon: Yeah, I'm gonna call, I hear some of the prints are subbed.
God: That would be sweet. Though Arclight's got Smith.
Damon: I know, tempting, summer trash. I haven't been to the theater since fucking RotS.
God: Are you going to drop it?
Damon: That's its official title now, Fucking RotS.
God: Yeah.
Damon: Did I interrupt anything?
God: Nah, we were just hanging before we go out tonight.
Damon: What's the game plan?
God: Jesus is organizing it. Lot's got a new girl so... dunno.
Damon: I don't know when he's worse, when he's in one or out.
God: You know I've been bumping some Rick James lately.
Damon: Sweet. Don't go all Chappelle on me now, I reviewed the set, and I'm RJB'd out.
God: No, I know, but... c'mon. Buh do boo boo boop, Buh do boo boo boop boop de doop.
Damon: Whan I came home last night....
God: You wouldn't make love to me!
Damon: You went fast asleep, You wouldn't even talk to me!
God: You say I'm so crazy... Coming home intoxicated!
Damon: I say just want to love you!
God: I just wanna love you, baby.
Damon: Guess that's why I'm so elated! Come on, girl! Give it to me, baby!
God: Give it to me, baby!
Damon: Give it to me, baby!
God: Give it to me, baby!
Damon I betcha I'll make you holler you've had enough! Give it to me, baby!
God: Give it to me, baby!
Damon: Just give it to me, baby! Give it to me, baby!
God: Give it to me, baby!
Damon: I betcha I'll make you holler you've had enough! Give it to me!
God: Give me that stuff, that sweet, that funky stuff
Damon: Say what?
God: Give it to me! Give me that stuff, that funk, that sweet, that funky stuff!
Damon Say what?
God: Give it to me, give it to me! Give it to me, give it to me! Give me your stuff, that funk, that sweet, that funky stuff!
Damon: Yo-ho, ow! BREAK!
God: Give it to me, baby!
(Damon dances, has no idea what God is doing)
Damon: When I was high as the sky! Out all night just dancin'!
God: You say, 'Let's go home!'
Damon: : Come on, Rick, I'm tired, let's go home!
God: That's the time I start romancin'! You say how can I love you?
Damon: How can I love you, baby?
God: When your body keeps on movin'! I say wait till I squeeze you, oh! Maybe then you'll start to groovin'!
Damon: Come on, girl!
God: Give it to me, baby
Damon: Give it to me, baby!
God: Give it to me, baby!
Damon: Give it to me, baby!
God: I betcha I'll make you holler you've had enough! Give it to me, baby!
Damon: Give it to me, baby!
God: Just give it to me, baby! Give it to me, baby!
Damon: Give it to me, baby!
God: I betcha I'll make you holler you've had enough! Give it to me!
Damon: Give me that stuff, that funk, that sweet, that funky stuff
God: Say what?
Damon: Give it to me! Give me that stuff, that funk, that sweet, that funky stuff!
God: Say what?
Damon: Give it to me, give it to me! Give it to me, give it to me!
God: Give me your stuff, that sweet, that funky stuff!
Damon: Yo-ho, ow!
God: JAM!
Damon: Hey, girl!
God: Give it to me what you say? Give it to me what you say!
Damon:Give it to me!
God: What you say?
Damon: Give it to me!
God: What you say?
Damon: Hey, girl!
God: Give it to me, what you say? Give it to me what you say?
Damon: Give it to me, give it to me!
God: Hey, girl!
Damon: Give it to me what you say? Give it to me what you say? Give it to me, give it to me!
God: Give it to me what you say? Give it to me right away!
Damon: Give it to me, give it to me!
God: Give it to me what you say!
Damon: AWESOME!
God: I think we're ready for some off key karaoke.
Damon: For sure.
God: Rock on. I'll call you in morning, see what's up.
Damon: Fair enough.
God: Give it to me, what you say?
Damon: Give it to me right away!
God: Give it to me. Give it to me.
Damon: PEACE.
God: And I'm OUT!
God: Who is it?
Damon: It's me. Damon?
God: I don't know this number.
Damon: I'm calling from my land line.
God: Fuck. I can't believe I didn't spot it. I expect you to call on your cell phone.
Damon: Well, I got home and I'm hanging out.
God: What have you been up to?
Damon: Eh. I had to run errands after work, payday and all. Got a new shower curtain, assorted toiletries, and some cat supplies. Oh, and I swung by Amoeba and grabbed Paris, Texas, The Driver, and Forty Guns.
God: Which you'll have no time for this weekend.
Damon: Fucking tell me about it.
God: So, what are your plans for the weekend?
Damon: I'm going to finally catch Kingdom of Heaven over the weekend, I got a pass to see it, so I feel like I should.
God: Good deal.
Damon: I may catch Mr. and Mrs. Smith or Howl's Moving Castle if I can.
God: When?
Damon: Dunno, why you down?
God: More for the Miyazaki, depends if it's dubbed or not.
Damon: Yeah, I'm gonna call, I hear some of the prints are subbed.
God: That would be sweet. Though Arclight's got Smith.
Damon: I know, tempting, summer trash. I haven't been to the theater since fucking RotS.
God: Are you going to drop it?
Damon: That's its official title now, Fucking RotS.
God: Yeah.
Damon: Did I interrupt anything?
God: Nah, we were just hanging before we go out tonight.
Damon: What's the game plan?
God: Jesus is organizing it. Lot's got a new girl so... dunno.
Damon: I don't know when he's worse, when he's in one or out.
God: You know I've been bumping some Rick James lately.
Damon: Sweet. Don't go all Chappelle on me now, I reviewed the set, and I'm RJB'd out.
God: No, I know, but... c'mon. Buh do boo boo boop, Buh do boo boo boop boop de doop.
Damon: Whan I came home last night....
God: You wouldn't make love to me!
Damon: You went fast asleep, You wouldn't even talk to me!
God: You say I'm so crazy... Coming home intoxicated!
Damon: I say just want to love you!
God: I just wanna love you, baby.
Damon: Guess that's why I'm so elated! Come on, girl! Give it to me, baby!
God: Give it to me, baby!
Damon: Give it to me, baby!
God: Give it to me, baby!
Damon I betcha I'll make you holler you've had enough! Give it to me, baby!
God: Give it to me, baby!
Damon: Just give it to me, baby! Give it to me, baby!
God: Give it to me, baby!
Damon: I betcha I'll make you holler you've had enough! Give it to me!
God: Give me that stuff, that sweet, that funky stuff
Damon: Say what?
God: Give it to me! Give me that stuff, that funk, that sweet, that funky stuff!
Damon Say what?
God: Give it to me, give it to me! Give it to me, give it to me! Give me your stuff, that funk, that sweet, that funky stuff!
Damon: Yo-ho, ow! BREAK!
God: Give it to me, baby!
(Damon dances, has no idea what God is doing)
Damon: When I was high as the sky! Out all night just dancin'!
God: You say, 'Let's go home!'
Damon: : Come on, Rick, I'm tired, let's go home!
God: That's the time I start romancin'! You say how can I love you?
Damon: How can I love you, baby?
God: When your body keeps on movin'! I say wait till I squeeze you, oh! Maybe then you'll start to groovin'!
Damon: Come on, girl!
God: Give it to me, baby
Damon: Give it to me, baby!
God: Give it to me, baby!
Damon: Give it to me, baby!
God: I betcha I'll make you holler you've had enough! Give it to me, baby!
Damon: Give it to me, baby!
God: Just give it to me, baby! Give it to me, baby!
Damon: Give it to me, baby!
God: I betcha I'll make you holler you've had enough! Give it to me!
Damon: Give me that stuff, that funk, that sweet, that funky stuff
God: Say what?
Damon: Give it to me! Give me that stuff, that funk, that sweet, that funky stuff!
God: Say what?
Damon: Give it to me, give it to me! Give it to me, give it to me!
God: Give me your stuff, that sweet, that funky stuff!
Damon: Yo-ho, ow!
God: JAM!
Damon: Hey, girl!
God: Give it to me what you say? Give it to me what you say!
Damon:Give it to me!
God: What you say?
Damon: Give it to me!
God: What you say?
Damon: Hey, girl!
God: Give it to me, what you say? Give it to me what you say?
Damon: Give it to me, give it to me!
God: Hey, girl!
Damon: Give it to me what you say? Give it to me what you say? Give it to me, give it to me!
God: Give it to me what you say? Give it to me right away!
Damon: Give it to me, give it to me!
God: Give it to me what you say!
Damon: AWESOME!
God: I think we're ready for some off key karaoke.
Damon: For sure.
God: Rock on. I'll call you in morning, see what's up.
Damon: Fair enough.
God: Give it to me, what you say?
Damon: Give it to me right away!
God: Give it to me. Give it to me.
Damon: PEACE.
God: And I'm OUT!
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Here come the Warm Jets
God: Damon!
Damon: Oh, hey.
God: What's up?
Damon: Not much, G, how you doing?
God: Well you know, always busy. What's up, I haven't heard from you in like forever.
Damon: Well, I'm still having the Sith conversations, so I figured I'd stay away.
God: What you don't want to talk about how Tom Cruise has gone nuts ad infinitum?
Damon: Maybe a little.
God: He's nuts.
Damon: Park a cow outside his house nuts.
God: Assault with a stapler gun nuts.
Damon: Dressing up as Ruth Buzzi for Christmas nuts.
God: Digitally reduced bosom nuts.
Damon: Anakin's Turn nuts.
God: Hey....
Damon: Sorry, changing your name to Aluminum nuts.
God: Good one. Telling strangers about your butt plug nuts.
Damon Signing Brett Ratner to direct X3 nuts.
God: Marrying Margot Kidder nuts.
Damon: Tara Reid nuts.
God: Thinking Paris Hilton minds that her sex tape leaked nuts.
Damon: Speaking of, is it just me or have all celebrities gone crazy? Russell with the phone, Alba with her see through top, Lindsay Lohan...
God: Don't get me started on that trollop. I gave her so many gifts, and look at her, she looks like a used condom.
Damon: Yeah. Yeah, I've been busy lately, writing, people, poker.
God: Me and Jesus have been thinking of getting a table going, but after we staged that intervention with Mordecai, things have been slow on that front.
Damon: The best part of that was that you guys did it the same week as the OC did it.
God: I know, I felt so bad. It was like "Hey, The O.C.'s over, and we're doing the same to you!
Damon: Yeah.
God: And the problem is, me and the boys LOVE to drink, we go out every weekend. So when M gets back it'll be like... Can he come along? How do we work this?
Damon: I dunno, it's difficult.
God: You wanna do Batman Begins opening night?
Damon: Totally, though is it at the Chinese?
God: We can always do the Grove if worse comes to it.
Damon: Fair enough.
God: Don't be a stranger now. And quit being so fucking whiny on your blogs. "Meow, meow meow, I'm not meeting girls." Hang out with us more, bitch!
Damon: I tried that, and it's like I'm your roadie. I can't compete with your shit.
God: Work you mojo, bitch.
Damon: "Hey, I'm not really much of anything yet, but I've been told I'm a good investment."
God: Told it by God.
Damon: urgh.
God: Ciao.
Damon: Ciao, God.
Damon: Oh, hey.
God: What's up?
Damon: Not much, G, how you doing?
God: Well you know, always busy. What's up, I haven't heard from you in like forever.
Damon: Well, I'm still having the Sith conversations, so I figured I'd stay away.
God: What you don't want to talk about how Tom Cruise has gone nuts ad infinitum?
Damon: Maybe a little.
God: He's nuts.
Damon: Park a cow outside his house nuts.
God: Assault with a stapler gun nuts.
Damon: Dressing up as Ruth Buzzi for Christmas nuts.
God: Digitally reduced bosom nuts.
Damon: Anakin's Turn nuts.
God: Hey....
Damon: Sorry, changing your name to Aluminum nuts.
God: Good one. Telling strangers about your butt plug nuts.
Damon Signing Brett Ratner to direct X3 nuts.
God: Marrying Margot Kidder nuts.
Damon: Tara Reid nuts.
God: Thinking Paris Hilton minds that her sex tape leaked nuts.
Damon: Speaking of, is it just me or have all celebrities gone crazy? Russell with the phone, Alba with her see through top, Lindsay Lohan...
God: Don't get me started on that trollop. I gave her so many gifts, and look at her, she looks like a used condom.
Damon: Yeah. Yeah, I've been busy lately, writing, people, poker.
God: Me and Jesus have been thinking of getting a table going, but after we staged that intervention with Mordecai, things have been slow on that front.
Damon: The best part of that was that you guys did it the same week as the OC did it.
God: I know, I felt so bad. It was like "Hey, The O.C.'s over, and we're doing the same to you!
Damon: Yeah.
God: And the problem is, me and the boys LOVE to drink, we go out every weekend. So when M gets back it'll be like... Can he come along? How do we work this?
Damon: I dunno, it's difficult.
God: You wanna do Batman Begins opening night?
Damon: Totally, though is it at the Chinese?
God: We can always do the Grove if worse comes to it.
Damon: Fair enough.
God: Don't be a stranger now. And quit being so fucking whiny on your blogs. "Meow, meow meow, I'm not meeting girls." Hang out with us more, bitch!
Damon: I tried that, and it's like I'm your roadie. I can't compete with your shit.
God: Work you mojo, bitch.
Damon: "Hey, I'm not really much of anything yet, but I've been told I'm a good investment."
God: Told it by God.
Damon: urgh.
God: Ciao.
Damon: Ciao, God.
Sunday, May 22, 2005
IM with God
Jaweh69: What's up Damon?
Damon: You too busy to call?
Jaweh69: I'm just doing my thing, besides, you're obviously busy with other stuff.
Damon: You see RotS?
Jaweh69: At the Arclight, bitch! Midnight Show!
Damon: And?
Jaweh69: I get what he was trying to do, but I don't think it translates in total.
Damon: Two stars?
Jaweh69: About right. Jesus and I have been getting in huge fights over it. So I don't want to battle with you.
Damon: He lvoes it?
Jaweh69: Yup. It made him cry.
Damon: loves
Damon: LOL.
Jaweh69: You gonna bust an emoticon next?
Damon: :)
Jaweh69: Fucker.
Jaweh69: Seriously, I understand both points of view. I think the film delivers the stuff it needs to.
Damon: Graelessly.
DamonL Gracelessly
Jaweh69: Seriously, Damon, shut up. I'm sick of hearing it.
Damon: Why, what was the report?
Damon: I bet Lot didn't care for it.
Jaweh69: Lot HATED it. Wouldn't shut up. Solomon didn't care, he thought it looked pretty. Moses was tepid on it, but he liked the Bash bashing.
Jaweh69: Bush bashing
Damon: I knew it wouldn't be Lot's bag.
Jaweh69: Well, duh.
Damon: I'm a little surprised about Solomon's reaction, he's a big fan of the first two.
Jaweh69: Yeah, I think he was a little disappointed, but wasn't sure if it was his expectations. He saw it again on Saturday, but he hasn't reported back yet.
Damon: LOL
Jaweh69: :(
Damon: ROTFLMAO
Jaweh69: WTF?
Damon: J/K
Jaweh69: TTFN
Damon: I'll stop then.
Jaweh69: Actually I'm going to roll out here shortly, to see RotS again.
Damon: Damn.
Jaweh69: Jesus bought tickets, so I mean, whatever.
Damon: Fair enough. HAve a good one.
Jaweh69: Will do.
Jaweh69: SUCKA!
Damon: Ciao, God.
Jaweh69: Peace, and I'm out!
Damon: You too busy to call?
Jaweh69: I'm just doing my thing, besides, you're obviously busy with other stuff.
Damon: You see RotS?
Jaweh69: At the Arclight, bitch! Midnight Show!
Damon: And?
Jaweh69: I get what he was trying to do, but I don't think it translates in total.
Damon: Two stars?
Jaweh69: About right. Jesus and I have been getting in huge fights over it. So I don't want to battle with you.
Damon: He lvoes it?
Jaweh69: Yup. It made him cry.
Damon: loves
Damon: LOL.
Jaweh69: You gonna bust an emoticon next?
Damon: :)
Jaweh69: Fucker.
Jaweh69: Seriously, I understand both points of view. I think the film delivers the stuff it needs to.
Damon: Graelessly.
DamonL Gracelessly
Jaweh69: Seriously, Damon, shut up. I'm sick of hearing it.
Damon: Why, what was the report?
Damon: I bet Lot didn't care for it.
Jaweh69: Lot HATED it. Wouldn't shut up. Solomon didn't care, he thought it looked pretty. Moses was tepid on it, but he liked the Bash bashing.
Jaweh69: Bush bashing
Damon: I knew it wouldn't be Lot's bag.
Jaweh69: Well, duh.
Damon: I'm a little surprised about Solomon's reaction, he's a big fan of the first two.
Jaweh69: Yeah, I think he was a little disappointed, but wasn't sure if it was his expectations. He saw it again on Saturday, but he hasn't reported back yet.
Damon: LOL
Jaweh69: :(
Damon: ROTFLMAO
Jaweh69: WTF?
Damon: J/K
Jaweh69: TTFN
Damon: I'll stop then.
Jaweh69: Actually I'm going to roll out here shortly, to see RotS again.
Damon: Damn.
Jaweh69: Jesus bought tickets, so I mean, whatever.
Damon: Fair enough. HAve a good one.
Jaweh69: Will do.
Jaweh69: SUCKA!
Damon: Ciao, God.
Jaweh69: Peace, and I'm out!
Saturday, May 14, 2005
Meta-man
God: So I've been reading your blog, D.
Damon: And?
God: It's pretty fucking meta.
Damon: Yeah, and?
God: I'm just saying you've put a lot of coded messages into it.
Damon: You think?
God: What do you think?
Damon: You want to get me on the couch or something?
God: No, but I'm just saying.
Damon: People think you're not you, God, that's the best part. They think I've made you up, or that you're one of my other friends.
God: Bitch, please.
Damon: The other thing, and I think it connects to what I was writing before, is that I feel a lot of writing is both making stuff up mixed with plundering your own life. So it's you and it isn't you.
God: Though I've read some of your other writing now too, those scripts you've sent me.
Damon: Finally. Why didn't you call me and tell me you were reading it?
God: Yeah, sorry about that, I'm busy, I'm God. Well, I wanted to surprise you,
Damon: It's cool.
God: But anyway, I was reading that one, and I was like "CODED MESSAGES"
Damon: I picked that up too, last night, when I was reading it.
God: But then you then make that part of the text.
Damon: I know!
God: Your meta is meta.
Damon: Meta.
God: Meta meta.
Damon: Meta.
God: You fucker.
Damon: What are you up to tonight?
God: You're not tired from last night?
Damon: Not at all, I slept it off.
God: NICE.
Damon: NICE.
God: Let me check it out, and I'll call you back.
Damon: Fair enough. Later.
God: Peace, and I'm out.
Damon: And?
God: It's pretty fucking meta.
Damon: Yeah, and?
God: I'm just saying you've put a lot of coded messages into it.
Damon: You think?
God: What do you think?
Damon: You want to get me on the couch or something?
God: No, but I'm just saying.
Damon: People think you're not you, God, that's the best part. They think I've made you up, or that you're one of my other friends.
God: Bitch, please.
Damon: The other thing, and I think it connects to what I was writing before, is that I feel a lot of writing is both making stuff up mixed with plundering your own life. So it's you and it isn't you.
God: Though I've read some of your other writing now too, those scripts you've sent me.
Damon: Finally. Why didn't you call me and tell me you were reading it?
God: Yeah, sorry about that, I'm busy, I'm God. Well, I wanted to surprise you,
Damon: It's cool.
God: But anyway, I was reading that one, and I was like "CODED MESSAGES"
Damon: I picked that up too, last night, when I was reading it.
God: But then you then make that part of the text.
Damon: I know!
God: Your meta is meta.
Damon: Meta.
God: Meta meta.
Damon: Meta.
God: You fucker.
Damon: What are you up to tonight?
God: You're not tired from last night?
Damon: Not at all, I slept it off.
God: NICE.
Damon: NICE.
God: Let me check it out, and I'll call you back.
Damon: Fair enough. Later.
God: Peace, and I'm out.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Solomon's decision
God: So you left early last night
Damon: Well, yeah.
God: What?
Damon: I've had work today.
God: You left at nine.
Damon: ...
God: C'mon, give me the excuse.
Damon: Look, God, here's the thing. Solomon has a problem. He's good for maybe two or three drinks, then he starts getting bad. I like hanging with you, but C'mon, it's getting ridiculous.
God: I've known Solomon for ages. And the thing about people with alcohol addiction is that it's on the people with the problem to do something about it. It's on Solomon.
Damon: Well, yeah. But you should talk to him about it.
God: Okay, I will, it's just, you and Jesus.
Damon: Look, he'll always be your son. But I'm close to you God. That's just the way it is. We get along, and I like him, it's just. Look I moved to town cause we were friends, and I'm getting to know your crew. Maybe eventually they'll be my friends too, but right now I'm your friend and their acquaintances, it'll take a while, okay?
God: I know, it's just.
Damon: Yeah, I know, and you know, thanks again. Hanging with you has been great. You know everyone... Literally.
God: You see that Mena Survari just got divorced?
Damon: Yeah. Doesn't Solomon have an eye for her?
God: And she does like older men.
Damon: He's got a thing for the freakgirl.
God: And you know she's about to go into the coke and drink frenzy
Damon: For sure, though Chris Klein is single now, so who knows?
God: Klein likes the "American Pie."
Damon: You watch American Idol?
God: No, but Jesus does.
Damon: Good, I'm sick of hearing about it. I think the whole scandal thing is what they're doing to keep it fresh.
God: Maybe so. I bought the Clay Aiken autobiography for Jesus, and he got so mad at me.
Damon: Clay Aiken, that's such a great punchline.
God: You want to go to White Dog on Friday?
Damon: You know it.
God: Cool, I'm friends with some people, so...
Damon: Rock it.
God: All right, I may bring Solomon, though.
Damon: Fine, but let's have drinks after, okay?
God: Fine, maybe I'll call Mena.
Damon: A drunk and a fetal alcohol syndrome baby.
God: Match made in heaven.
Damon: rim shot.
God: Peace, and I'm out!
Damon: Well, yeah.
God: What?
Damon: I've had work today.
God: You left at nine.
Damon: ...
God: C'mon, give me the excuse.
Damon: Look, God, here's the thing. Solomon has a problem. He's good for maybe two or three drinks, then he starts getting bad. I like hanging with you, but C'mon, it's getting ridiculous.
God: I've known Solomon for ages. And the thing about people with alcohol addiction is that it's on the people with the problem to do something about it. It's on Solomon.
Damon: Well, yeah. But you should talk to him about it.
God: Okay, I will, it's just, you and Jesus.
Damon: Look, he'll always be your son. But I'm close to you God. That's just the way it is. We get along, and I like him, it's just. Look I moved to town cause we were friends, and I'm getting to know your crew. Maybe eventually they'll be my friends too, but right now I'm your friend and their acquaintances, it'll take a while, okay?
God: I know, it's just.
Damon: Yeah, I know, and you know, thanks again. Hanging with you has been great. You know everyone... Literally.
God: You see that Mena Survari just got divorced?
Damon: Yeah. Doesn't Solomon have an eye for her?
God: And she does like older men.
Damon: He's got a thing for the freakgirl.
God: And you know she's about to go into the coke and drink frenzy
Damon: For sure, though Chris Klein is single now, so who knows?
God: Klein likes the "American Pie."
Damon: You watch American Idol?
God: No, but Jesus does.
Damon: Good, I'm sick of hearing about it. I think the whole scandal thing is what they're doing to keep it fresh.
God: Maybe so. I bought the Clay Aiken autobiography for Jesus, and he got so mad at me.
Damon: Clay Aiken, that's such a great punchline.
God: You want to go to White Dog on Friday?
Damon: You know it.
God: Cool, I'm friends with some people, so...
Damon: Rock it.
God: All right, I may bring Solomon, though.
Damon: Fine, but let's have drinks after, okay?
God: Fine, maybe I'll call Mena.
Damon: A drunk and a fetal alcohol syndrome baby.
God: Match made in heaven.
Damon: rim shot.
God: Peace, and I'm out!
Saturday, May 07, 2005
With Teeth
God: So Mordecai calls me, drunk again, last night.
Damon: Again?
God: I know. He called me again this afternoon. Drunk.
Damon: God, damnit.
God: He called to tell me that he was too drunk to go to his AA meeting.
Damon:...
God: I know. Anyway, Jesus saw RotS Thursday. He went with John Singleton.
Damon: Yeah, I heard. I heard John loved it.
God: Big time, at one point he hooted and Jesus was totally embarrassed to be sitting next to him.
Damon: As embarrassed as he was watching Shaft?
God: Almost. C'mon, Shaft's not that bad.
Damon: You're wrong, God. You're wrong.
God: Um, last I checked I'm not.
Damon: Do you guys have the DVD around, we can watch it next time I'm over.
God: Actually we don't.
Damon: I mean I'll conceed that Jeffery Wright is phenomenal in that movie, but they had all the elements and fucked it up.
God: I don't really want to watch it again.
Damon: Are you conceeding?
God: Um, maybe a little.
Damon: "It's Egyptian cotton, you fuck."
God: Jesus has been playing the new NIN a lot.
Damon: Thoughts?
God: Eh. He'll never top The Downward Spiral.
Damon: The fragile was like a half hour of a good album spread out over two hours.
God: I liked his Bowie remix, though.
Damon: The guy has skills, but yeah.
God: Jesus starts bumping Trent's stuff, I go in my room and throw on some Oasis.
Damon: You guys are so stuck in the mid ninties.
God: You wanna catch Kingdom of Heaven this weekend?
Damon: Maybe I still have I was a Fugitive From a Chain Gang to get through.
God: Fair enough.
Damon: Tomorrow night might be good, though.
God: Fair enough.
Damon: Again?
God: I know. He called me again this afternoon. Drunk.
Damon: God, damnit.
God: He called to tell me that he was too drunk to go to his AA meeting.
Damon:...
God: I know. Anyway, Jesus saw RotS Thursday. He went with John Singleton.
Damon: Yeah, I heard. I heard John loved it.
God: Big time, at one point he hooted and Jesus was totally embarrassed to be sitting next to him.
Damon: As embarrassed as he was watching Shaft?
God: Almost. C'mon, Shaft's not that bad.
Damon: You're wrong, God. You're wrong.
God: Um, last I checked I'm not.
Damon: Do you guys have the DVD around, we can watch it next time I'm over.
God: Actually we don't.
Damon: I mean I'll conceed that Jeffery Wright is phenomenal in that movie, but they had all the elements and fucked it up.
God: I don't really want to watch it again.
Damon: Are you conceeding?
God: Um, maybe a little.
Damon: "It's Egyptian cotton, you fuck."
God: Jesus has been playing the new NIN a lot.
Damon: Thoughts?
God: Eh. He'll never top The Downward Spiral.
Damon: The fragile was like a half hour of a good album spread out over two hours.
God: I liked his Bowie remix, though.
Damon: The guy has skills, but yeah.
God: Jesus starts bumping Trent's stuff, I go in my room and throw on some Oasis.
Damon: You guys are so stuck in the mid ninties.
God: You wanna catch Kingdom of Heaven this weekend?
Damon: Maybe I still have I was a Fugitive From a Chain Gang to get through.
God: Fair enough.
Damon: Tomorrow night might be good, though.
God: Fair enough.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
God's Message
Left on my voice mail while I was playing poker with Gil Bellows (Sad to say a lesser cable channel showed up in the middle and asked if there were any celebrities in the house. Gil heard this in the background and went to get a slice of pizza, as the camera crew left):
God: Hey Damon, sorry about that. Something came up. Solomon really needed me. He's been getting 2 o clock drunk for the last couple weeks. I don't know why, either, Jesus thinks it's cause his latest girlfriend broke up with him two weeks ago, but he's been drinking like this for a month now. I think she cheated on him, well I know she cheated on him. Oh the fucking drama. I show up, he's crying and talking about his small dick. I was all like "She was a waitress at a club, and when Colm Feore tips well and expresses interest, you're going to come across as archaic." The fucked thing was a month ago he was all like, "I'm so happy to not be dating a starfucker this time...." He ended up smoking some pot and mellowed out a bit, but he's been like this for years. I don't think he ever got over the time he slipped it to Sheena E. Me and the gang were on tour with Prince, just hanging with him, awesome dude, very grounded, all things considered, and though Prince was like "I don't touch the stuff" Sol and Sheelia slipped off back, did some coke and ended up fooling around. I know you're super busy tomorrow, but if you're around lunchitme, I might give you a buzz, maybe we can grab lunch at The Steak Escape. Anyway, glad you won money. Oh wait. You haven't won yet. Well, it's not like you're going to get this until you get home anyway.
God: Hey Damon, sorry about that. Something came up. Solomon really needed me. He's been getting 2 o clock drunk for the last couple weeks. I don't know why, either, Jesus thinks it's cause his latest girlfriend broke up with him two weeks ago, but he's been drinking like this for a month now. I think she cheated on him, well I know she cheated on him. Oh the fucking drama. I show up, he's crying and talking about his small dick. I was all like "She was a waitress at a club, and when Colm Feore tips well and expresses interest, you're going to come across as archaic." The fucked thing was a month ago he was all like, "I'm so happy to not be dating a starfucker this time...." He ended up smoking some pot and mellowed out a bit, but he's been like this for years. I don't think he ever got over the time he slipped it to Sheena E. Me and the gang were on tour with Prince, just hanging with him, awesome dude, very grounded, all things considered, and though Prince was like "I don't touch the stuff" Sol and Sheelia slipped off back, did some coke and ended up fooling around. I know you're super busy tomorrow, but if you're around lunchitme, I might give you a buzz, maybe we can grab lunch at The Steak Escape. Anyway, glad you won money. Oh wait. You haven't won yet. Well, it's not like you're going to get this until you get home anyway.
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
May looks to be a banner month
God: What's up?
Damon: Been busy, May looks to be a banner month.
God: Well, especially since you're designing banners now.
Damon: rim shot.
God: ...
Damon: You hear about Thursday?
God: Hell yeah, sounds cool, you should go.
Damon: I know, get my one sheet signed.
God: Awesome.
Damon: I know.
God: So what about the Katie Holmes Tom Cruise thing?
Damon: What about it?
God: What are your thoughts?
Damon: My first: So phony.
God: You think she's a beard?
Damon: But see, now I don't know. It seems so obviously phony that maybe it's not.
God: You're going around the bend on that one?
Damon: Yeah, I like betting the long odds. But in terms of his gayness, maybe he just likes having trophy girls around. I think he's gotten so far into Scientology that he's past sexuality.
God: See, Jesus is way more cynical about it.
Damon: But you guys aren't so crazy about the Scientologists, are you?
God: Not a fan, no. Xenu. What the fuck's up with that shit.
Damon: Still.... Cruise was great in Collateral.
God: We, you know me and JC and Lot, saw it digitally projected, and I liked it but Lot would not shut up about these gossipy girls behind us. We got out of the screening and these girls were already on their cell phone, so Lot went over and grabbed the phones out of their hands and broke them. These girls were pissed, so Lot made us run away. So, even though I liked it, every time it comes up around Lot he has to tell the story of how he broke their phones. By the fifth time he told that story, Jesus was ready to punch him. And you know how hard it is get Jesus that mad. Hey Jesus (what?) say hey to Damon.
(pause)
Jesus: What's up?
Damon: Not much, J, what you got going tonight?
Jesus: God had to hit the bathroom, so he passed the phone to me... he's always like this, I mean it's not like we don't talk, eh, sometimes he doesn't like speaking his mind.... Anyway, we're going to hit the 101 around ten, grab a omlette, and probably hit the Well, but Lot's been talking about going to Giggles, though.
Damon: I'm playing poker tonight, get some stuff ready for the thing tomorrow. Last time I went out with Lot he got so drunk he got kicked out of Cheetah's for touching a girl's... look I was shocked he got away with grabbing her boob, but God's got some clout in this town, so I wasn't too surprised, but does Lot even know how big G tipped to cover that shit up?
Jesus: Lot's been like that for a while. I think he's got entitlement issues.
Damon: Wouldn't shock me.
Jesus: That was the front door.
Damon: What?
Jesus: I think God forgot he was on the phone with you. Yep, I hear his car.
Damon: Maybe something came up.
Jesus: Fair enough.
Damon: God was talking about the Cruise Holmes thing.
Jesus: He is such a gossip.
Damon: I know.
Jesus: Anywho, I've got a report to work on.
Damon: What?
Jesus: I've been taking some college classes on the side, so I'm taking an econ class. I think the girl who sits next to me is a stripper. She's got the nails for it.
Damon: High heels?
Jesus: Always.
Damon: Belly ring?
Jesus: Of course.
Damon: If you see her with a roll of ones, it's over.
Jesus: My striper-dar isn't what it used to be though. Normal girls can look hella slutty these days.
Damon: Since I favor the librarian look...
Jesus: Grow some stones, dog.
Damon: (laughs) Good talking to you.
Jesus: Back at you.
Damon: Been busy, May looks to be a banner month.
God: Well, especially since you're designing banners now.
Damon: rim shot.
God: ...
Damon: You hear about Thursday?
God: Hell yeah, sounds cool, you should go.
Damon: I know, get my one sheet signed.
God: Awesome.
Damon: I know.
God: So what about the Katie Holmes Tom Cruise thing?
Damon: What about it?
God: What are your thoughts?
Damon: My first: So phony.
God: You think she's a beard?
Damon: But see, now I don't know. It seems so obviously phony that maybe it's not.
God: You're going around the bend on that one?
Damon: Yeah, I like betting the long odds. But in terms of his gayness, maybe he just likes having trophy girls around. I think he's gotten so far into Scientology that he's past sexuality.
God: See, Jesus is way more cynical about it.
Damon: But you guys aren't so crazy about the Scientologists, are you?
God: Not a fan, no. Xenu. What the fuck's up with that shit.
Damon: Still.... Cruise was great in Collateral.
God: We, you know me and JC and Lot, saw it digitally projected, and I liked it but Lot would not shut up about these gossipy girls behind us. We got out of the screening and these girls were already on their cell phone, so Lot went over and grabbed the phones out of their hands and broke them. These girls were pissed, so Lot made us run away. So, even though I liked it, every time it comes up around Lot he has to tell the story of how he broke their phones. By the fifth time he told that story, Jesus was ready to punch him. And you know how hard it is get Jesus that mad. Hey Jesus (what?) say hey to Damon.
(pause)
Jesus: What's up?
Damon: Not much, J, what you got going tonight?
Jesus: God had to hit the bathroom, so he passed the phone to me... he's always like this, I mean it's not like we don't talk, eh, sometimes he doesn't like speaking his mind.... Anyway, we're going to hit the 101 around ten, grab a omlette, and probably hit the Well, but Lot's been talking about going to Giggles, though.
Damon: I'm playing poker tonight, get some stuff ready for the thing tomorrow. Last time I went out with Lot he got so drunk he got kicked out of Cheetah's for touching a girl's... look I was shocked he got away with grabbing her boob, but God's got some clout in this town, so I wasn't too surprised, but does Lot even know how big G tipped to cover that shit up?
Jesus: Lot's been like that for a while. I think he's got entitlement issues.
Damon: Wouldn't shock me.
Jesus: That was the front door.
Damon: What?
Jesus: I think God forgot he was on the phone with you. Yep, I hear his car.
Damon: Maybe something came up.
Jesus: Fair enough.
Damon: God was talking about the Cruise Holmes thing.
Jesus: He is such a gossip.
Damon: I know.
Jesus: Anywho, I've got a report to work on.
Damon: What?
Jesus: I've been taking some college classes on the side, so I'm taking an econ class. I think the girl who sits next to me is a stripper. She's got the nails for it.
Damon: High heels?
Jesus: Always.
Damon: Belly ring?
Jesus: Of course.
Damon: If you see her with a roll of ones, it's over.
Jesus: My striper-dar isn't what it used to be though. Normal girls can look hella slutty these days.
Damon: Since I favor the librarian look...
Jesus: Grow some stones, dog.
Damon: (laughs) Good talking to you.
Jesus: Back at you.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Crunk for Jesus?
God: What's going down, my (expletive deleted)?
Damon: Not much. I called you back last night and got the machine?
God: Yeah, I went with the boys for some drinks.
Damon: Jesus didn't do his water for wine bit?
God: He can't turn my sprite into a Jack and Coke, if that's what you mean. Jesus got really drunk and started Karaoeking. Is that a word?
Damon: It is now.
God: Yeah, he was doing some Usher. Moses still thinks it's funny to do a Lil' John impression.
Damon: Yeah? Yeah?
God: Yeah.
Damon: Yeah.
God: We could do a stand up routine you and me, we could across the globe. I swear people would laugh.
Damon: So how you doing?
God: Same old, same old. That picture of Cuthbert, it's fake.
Damon: Damnit.
God: Thanks for E-ing it to me though.
Damon: No problem.
God: No I mean seriously, my spam filter is bad enough as is. Why would I want to break rocks with my cock? Why would I want cum guzzling whores who'll do anything? I'm God. If it was me specific spam, maybe, but this just sucks. My ironic appreciation of it... is over.
Damon: Aight, well, you're the expert, so I just wanted some help.
God: No, I know. Next time just link a God, would you?
Damon: Fair enough.
God: I gotta run, Lot just called.
Damon: Later.
God: Peace, and I'm out.
Damon: Not much. I called you back last night and got the machine?
God: Yeah, I went with the boys for some drinks.
Damon: Jesus didn't do his water for wine bit?
God: He can't turn my sprite into a Jack and Coke, if that's what you mean. Jesus got really drunk and started Karaoeking. Is that a word?
Damon: It is now.
God: Yeah, he was doing some Usher. Moses still thinks it's funny to do a Lil' John impression.
Damon: Yeah? Yeah?
God: Yeah.
Damon: Yeah.
God: We could do a stand up routine you and me, we could across the globe. I swear people would laugh.
Damon: So how you doing?
God: Same old, same old. That picture of Cuthbert, it's fake.
Damon: Damnit.
God: Thanks for E-ing it to me though.
Damon: No problem.
God: No I mean seriously, my spam filter is bad enough as is. Why would I want to break rocks with my cock? Why would I want cum guzzling whores who'll do anything? I'm God. If it was me specific spam, maybe, but this just sucks. My ironic appreciation of it... is over.
Damon: Aight, well, you're the expert, so I just wanted some help.
God: No, I know. Next time just link a God, would you?
Damon: Fair enough.
God: I gotta run, Lot just called.
Damon: Later.
God: Peace, and I'm out.
Monday, April 25, 2005
God read ROTS, and ROTS don't plotz
God: What it is my main man?
Damon: Just working.
God: You want me to call back?
Damon: Nah, I'm cool for a bit.
God: I read the Revenge of the Sith screenplay this weekend.
Damon: I'm sorry.
God: Yeah. Jesus Bit-Torrented it for me. Like, I know stuff is illegal, and all, but whatever, I'm God. I could materialize it if I wanted. But he printed it out on the laser printer, and it was sitting there, so I couldn't help it, if I wanted to.
Damon: You couldn't help it, even if you could?
God: Michael Jackson reference, NICE.
Damon: NICE.
God: Why the fuck do still care about this stuff, Damon. I don't get it. It's shit, man, let it go.
Damon: Fair enough. I just, I guess it's the whole "He got to make the movies he wanted to make with no interference and yet he ruined it with his indifference" factor, which is tied into the whole "there are people who will love these movies regardless of their quality" factor, which isn't a real complaint, but it irks me nonetheless - I guess because there was something to love in there originally, and to have no taste, I find... I hate saying offensive, but perhaps aesthetically offensive. But realistically this is as close as cinema has come to creating it's own mythology, and he's ruined it. Maybe I'll feel better when the original cuts hit DVD, if ever.
God: You've been beating this drum longer than a Jon Bonham solo.
Damon: I guess it's the geek factor, it's the movie EVERYBODY can talk about because all film people and most regular people have opinions on it. . You can't have prolonged conversations about 2046, or Destry Rides Again for that matter. Or even Roadhouse.
God: "I used to fuck guys like you in prison"
Damon: Thanks?
God: So when are you seeing it?
Damon: Some coworkers want to go, so I guess opening day. Otherwise, I think I'll wait for DVD.
God: Really?
Damon: Yeah. I'm not going to bend I don't think.
God: Fair enough.
Damon: Call me tonight, I should be home later.
God: Cool. PEACE!
Damon: Peace out, G.
Damon: Just working.
God: You want me to call back?
Damon: Nah, I'm cool for a bit.
God: I read the Revenge of the Sith screenplay this weekend.
Damon: I'm sorry.
God: Yeah. Jesus Bit-Torrented it for me. Like, I know stuff is illegal, and all, but whatever, I'm God. I could materialize it if I wanted. But he printed it out on the laser printer, and it was sitting there, so I couldn't help it, if I wanted to.
Damon: You couldn't help it, even if you could?
God: Michael Jackson reference, NICE.
Damon: NICE.
God: Why the fuck do still care about this stuff, Damon. I don't get it. It's shit, man, let it go.
Damon: Fair enough. I just, I guess it's the whole "He got to make the movies he wanted to make with no interference and yet he ruined it with his indifference" factor, which is tied into the whole "there are people who will love these movies regardless of their quality" factor, which isn't a real complaint, but it irks me nonetheless - I guess because there was something to love in there originally, and to have no taste, I find... I hate saying offensive, but perhaps aesthetically offensive. But realistically this is as close as cinema has come to creating it's own mythology, and he's ruined it. Maybe I'll feel better when the original cuts hit DVD, if ever.
God: You've been beating this drum longer than a Jon Bonham solo.
Damon: I guess it's the geek factor, it's the movie EVERYBODY can talk about because all film people and most regular people have opinions on it. . You can't have prolonged conversations about 2046, or Destry Rides Again for that matter. Or even Roadhouse.
God: "I used to fuck guys like you in prison"
Damon: Thanks?
God: So when are you seeing it?
Damon: Some coworkers want to go, so I guess opening day. Otherwise, I think I'll wait for DVD.
God: Really?
Damon: Yeah. I'm not going to bend I don't think.
God: Fair enough.
Damon: Call me tonight, I should be home later.
God: Cool. PEACE!
Damon: Peace out, G.
Saturday, April 23, 2005
What's shakin', God
God: Hey, what's up, Damon?
Me: Not much, just watching this Wadja set.
God: My favorite is Ashes and Diamonds.
Me: Really, I'm more a Kanal man myself.
God: I get more shout outs in A&D.
Me: That you do.
God: Hey good work on that thing.
Me: Thanks. You mean (explitive deleted)
God: Yep. There was some funny shit on that.
Me: Thanks.
God: You see they're making a Land of the Lost movie?
Me: Yeah, what the fuck is up with that?
God: I'm really rethinking the whole "free will" stuff.
Me: Fair enough.
God: I mean seriously. Why don't they just redo Lidsville while they're at it.
Me: You see that trailer for Bewitched?
God: I KNOW. Jesus.
Me: It sucks.
God: No I meant my son, his cell went off... You wanna hear something lame?
Me: Sure.
God: His cell phone sound is the theme song to Facts of Life.
Me:....
God: I know.
Me: I think I saw every episode of that.
God: How you been?
Me: Fine. I bought the box set of Friday the 13th yesterday and I don't know why.
God: Yeah, that's sort of silly. I mean the only good one in the set is four.
Me: I just, there wasn't anything else I was jumping at.
God: Well, you got Primer this week, right?
Me: Of course.
God: I've seen that like, well, I've seen it an infinite number of times now. What a clever little film. I wish they could goose the soundtracka bit though.
Me: It was a miracle they could do that for seven grand.
God: No, a miracle is that Joel Schumacher got work after Batman and Robin.
Me: It made money.
God:...
Me: I'm just saying.
God: I was talking real miracles.
Me: What?
God: Yeah, Jesus was a big fan of D.C. Cab, so I hooked it up.
Me: So what are you up to today?
God: Just watching some sports.
Me: I've got finish up this review, and then... I dunno, Primer maybe. I've got a party to go to, but it's been a long week.
God: Sounds like a plan.
Me: Yeah, I'm feeling like a homebody tonight.
God: You might get laid...
Me: There is that.
God: You should get a haircut.
Me: I know I'm so shaggy.
God: Well, I'll leave you to it.
Me: Thanks.
God: Peace.
Me: Later.
Me: Not much, just watching this Wadja set.
God: My favorite is Ashes and Diamonds.
Me: Really, I'm more a Kanal man myself.
God: I get more shout outs in A&D.
Me: That you do.
God: Hey good work on that thing.
Me: Thanks. You mean (explitive deleted)
God: Yep. There was some funny shit on that.
Me: Thanks.
God: You see they're making a Land of the Lost movie?
Me: Yeah, what the fuck is up with that?
God: I'm really rethinking the whole "free will" stuff.
Me: Fair enough.
God: I mean seriously. Why don't they just redo Lidsville while they're at it.
Me: You see that trailer for Bewitched?
God: I KNOW. Jesus.
Me: It sucks.
God: No I meant my son, his cell went off... You wanna hear something lame?
Me: Sure.
God: His cell phone sound is the theme song to Facts of Life.
Me:....
God: I know.
Me: I think I saw every episode of that.
God: How you been?
Me: Fine. I bought the box set of Friday the 13th yesterday and I don't know why.
God: Yeah, that's sort of silly. I mean the only good one in the set is four.
Me: I just, there wasn't anything else I was jumping at.
God: Well, you got Primer this week, right?
Me: Of course.
God: I've seen that like, well, I've seen it an infinite number of times now. What a clever little film. I wish they could goose the soundtracka bit though.
Me: It was a miracle they could do that for seven grand.
God: No, a miracle is that Joel Schumacher got work after Batman and Robin.
Me: It made money.
God:...
Me: I'm just saying.
God: I was talking real miracles.
Me: What?
God: Yeah, Jesus was a big fan of D.C. Cab, so I hooked it up.
Me: So what are you up to today?
God: Just watching some sports.
Me: I've got finish up this review, and then... I dunno, Primer maybe. I've got a party to go to, but it's been a long week.
God: Sounds like a plan.
Me: Yeah, I'm feeling like a homebody tonight.
God: You might get laid...
Me: There is that.
God: You should get a haircut.
Me: I know I'm so shaggy.
God: Well, I'll leave you to it.
Me: Thanks.
God: Peace.
Me: Later.
Friday, April 22, 2005
And then twenty minutes later
Me: (weak) Yes?
God: Face? Benedict? Dirk Benedict played Face on the A-Team.
Me: So?
God: That was fucking clever. Give it up, Damon.
Me: I had just gotten back to sleep, G.
God: Fine.
God: Face? Benedict? Dirk Benedict played Face on the A-Team.
Me: So?
God: That was fucking clever. Give it up, Damon.
Me: I had just gotten back to sleep, G.
God: Fine.
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