Buying a tabloid in Los Angeles is sort of like buying porn in Ohio. You know it happens, you’ve heard about it happening, but no one admits to doing it. And if they do admit to doing it, they are filled with shame and guilt. That was me on Thursday (the tabloid, not the porn),
Look, I don’t mean to be difficult, but… (Oh, wait. Yes, I do. I’m actually on a lifelong quest to strike the perfect balance between difficult and invisible. So far, I’ve only really managed to achieve invisible, but I can tell that the public is pulling for me to finally achieve my full potential.) Anyway.
A number of you asked whether or not I jumped in and did that interview with the potential for mild embarrassment that I talked about here. I did do it. Everyone who said “what could go wrong?” please raise your hand. Yeah. You people with your hands raised, this post is for you. Many of
Hands up if you’ve ever written the letter. You know the letter I’m talking about—the letter that you write after the break-up. It’s the 15 page masterpiece that gives vent to everything you held back over the entire course of your relationship. It’s the letter that should properly chastise the bastard, while simultaneously making him
It’s entirely possible that I’ve finally gone around the bend. It can’t be a surprise to any of you. I’m sure many of you have thought that I was crazy in the past. But here’s the thing—I’m fairly certain my horoscope actually yelled at me on Thursday. No, I’m not kidding. I’m fairly certain it
I was going to give you my review of “The X-Files: I Want to Believe”. Make no mistake– I love this film. I was happy the first time, but thrilled the second when I had time to focus and not think, “wow, the filmmakers are behind me and damnit, Duchovny looks hot”. The X-Files grows
Photo courtesy of gadd1960. By now, many of you have figured out two things: 1) I love The X-Files and 2) the new movie comes out this weekend. There are characters, actors and storytellers that stay with you, sometimes inexplicably, for years. For me, this ranks as one of my most successful love affairs. But
Because work is making me slightly crazy right now, I’ve started even stranger imaginings than normal. Luckily, you guys get to share in the insanity. Yea! Today’s mind wandering topic: how many people would it take? For instance, at what point does someone become an “important” artist and could that be manufactured? Since art is
I’ve taken this latest round of Albert Ellis experiments very seriously. I started with the great X-Files fans at the LA Film Festival, and decided that because that went so well, I should try meeting the general public. What the hell was I thinking? I’m a hermit for a reason. People scare me. More than
No one my age should still be living in an apartment. The joys of communal living should be foisted on to only the very young because as an adult, you just hate making the compromises. I hide from my neighbors. This is a well-known fact. But I met one of them last night. She came