GORDON'S ALIVE!

I had a dream that I was Flash Gordon in the 1980 movie. The only difference between my dream and the film version was that in my dream I was carrying my welsh terrier under my arm while I fought Ming the Merciless.

Magic Movie Machine, part 2

Love/Hate Los Angeles

Love: It was 75 degrees out (December 23rd).
Hate: Even though it was 75 degrees out, there was a guy at the gym wearing a snow hat.

Different friend, more bacon

Friends and Enemies both want me dead

Last night I received a Christmas gift from my supposed friend. I don't need to name names, let's just say this is the same friend I have a $100 bet with regarding who will die first.

Five types of bacon to start the new year:
- Oscar Smoke House Applewood Smoked Bacon
- Hempler's Pepper Bacon
- Edward's Virginia Hickory smoked Country Style Dry Cured Bacon
- Father's Hickory Smoked Cinnamon Sugar Country Bacon
- Vande Rose Iowa Duroc Heritage Breed Pork Artisan Dry Cured Applewood Smoked Bacon

I have decided if I die first I need to be cremated*. I want to see him pick the $100bill out of my urn.



* If there is any bacon left when I expire, please cremate it with me.

Magic Movie Machine

Does anyone wonder how Will Ferrell, Adam Mckay, Judd Apatow, Paul Rudd, Seth Rogen, and Jonah Hill (to name a few of the supposed Comedy Mafia) are able to come up with movies like this time and time again? Without giving too much away before my thesis is done, I will leave you with a couple of clues:
*Rotary Phone
*WOPR
*Pact with the devil

Think about it!

Billy Town

I just got off the phone with my friend Billy and we had a long talk about the future. He told me that eventually he wants to own a ton of land in New Hampshire. Not only will he build his dream home on the property but a select few will be given invitations to build houses on the land as well. The land is free as well as any materials that come from the property (wood, water, etc). The only catch is you have to give something back to your community of friends. I am quite flattered to say I have been included in this grand plan. I have been racking my brain all day trying to figure out what I could contribute to the perfect society my friend will build in his image.

Some ideas:
Town Gossip
Town Drunk - could be an issue. Not a huge drinker.
Town Jew

Out of ideas

Ice Cube needs to get back in the game

No one lives forever, no one. But with advances in modern science and my high level income, it's not crazy to think I can live to be 245, maybe 300.

Just got word from my doctor that I can stop taking Lipitor.
LDL - 101
HDL - 48
Total - 175

Maybe a Highlander quote would have been better.

You cannot die, MacLeod, accept it.

Turkey Turkey

Got my endorsement

I don't normally like to talk politics. Too many people run their mouths off when they really don't know anything. In this case though I don't see the harm in telling everyone who I plan to vote for in the next election. You will soon see it is in your best interests to agree.

Writers' Strike - Good for Writers?

Last night as I was watching the season finale of Weeds, two things occured to me. One, Weeds has jumped the shark and two, if this strike continues I won't have anything new to watch. The magic picture box won't be so magical. Maybe I will read a book. So the way I look at it, if I buy a book because of the writers' strike there is at least one happy writer out there.

Should I get an iPhone?

I saw this commercial where some ballet dancer talks about how she updates her blog from her iphone. I want to be that ballet dancer.

For some reason I have "Music is my boyfriend" stuck in my head. The Apple marketing campaign has turned me into a lemming.

Back to school

I keep having this recurring dream that I have to go back to school because I failed some course. Why would it take over ten years for me to realize it? The dream alternates between high school and college. In the college version I have to move back into the dorms. I think it has to do with the fact one of my friends actually had to go back to college because he failed a class ten years ago and finally wanted to get his diploma. He use to call me on his way to class. We would laugh that he was keeping the dream alive. Not sure what dream that was. When I wake up sweating in the middle of the night I am pretty sure it's a nightmare.

American Gangster of Pudding

I know this might sound sacreligious but I am thinking of cutting the middle man out of the pudding equation. What if instead of cooking My*T*Fine pudding, I make my own butterscotch? I have been doing some research and it seems that butterscotch doesn't come from the sea as I once thought. Butterscotch is some sort of mixture of sugar, butter, cream, and vanilla. Now if I can isolate the pudding genome, nothing can stop me.

No individual has accomplished what My*T*Fine hasn't in a hundred years!

Papa Cristo's

I was trying to meet my lamb requirements for the day at Papa Cristo's when I noticed Tom Leykis wandering around the store. Did anyone know he was Greek? I almost went up to him and said hello but that would have required me to stop eating and stand. Instead I took another bite of my sandwich and imagined him taking me out JFK Sr. and Jr. style. Genius!

Lamb - my new butterscotch pudding

I have been eating lamb nonstop the last couple of weeks. Chops, Gyros, sandwiches, raw in a field nude. I have all my bases covered. Lamb is heart healthy, right? I don't know why I titled this post Lamb - my new butterscotch pudding. We live in a world where I don't have to choose.

Happy Veterans' Day

Against All Odds via Jalopnik

I use to love this movie. When I first saw it I was too little to care who would have won if that garbage truck didn't cut the race short. I still don't really care. I do remember a time my freshman year in college when I was obsessed with the Phil Collins theme song from the movie. I would drive up the Merritt parkway like I was James Woods in the Ferrari (substitute Honda for Ferrari), weaving in and out of traffic like a maniac, crying over my high school girlfriend who got smart and dumped me. I identify more with James Woods's character because of the size of his penis, of course.

Blackleg Barry

In this time of need I wanted to let Hollywood know that I am available to write. I have no shame crossing the line. If you need me for an episode of 30 Rock, I am there. The same goes for working on Days Of Our Lives or Hotel Erotica Cabo edition.

Actual License Plate

No joke. I was behind this car last night.

Butterscotch

Esquire - November 2007

P 142 - Foods you'll be enjoying aplenty in 2008: Butterscotch

The world is beginning to recognize.

So glad I bought butterscotch pudding futures.

Butterscotch the dog

Casa Bonita

I am not sure if I mentioned this before but my office moved to a new building. For the most part there is nothing special about the new digs unless you count having Casa Bonita studios as your neighbor a big deal. Oh wait, I do!!!! Casa Bonita studios is where they make South Park. For the last few weeks I have been thinking of ways to show Trey Parker and Matt Stone that what they really need is a third partner. Sure they have made it tens years already, but I have my doubts they can keep it going without me. I thought I was finally being called up to the big leagues on Thursday when someone from Casa Bonita came into my office and asked for the guy who drove the blue land rover. As I was about to say my good byes to the suckers around me, the south park employee informed me I parked my car in a Casa Bonita reserved spot. Something about getting that piece of shit out of the exec spot for his M5. This might not have been my opportunity but at least they know me. I am the douche with the blue land rover.

It is a start.

Werwolf Bar Mitzvah

Why can't I write for 30 Rock? Oh, that's right, no talent. Damn!! On another note how amazing is this clip? I could go on about how amazing a werewolf Bar Mitzvah would be, but all this clip does is make me think of my own Bar Mitzvah. I don't even think we played Coke/Pepsi. I think my mom bought a fur coat with my gift money. Well not the bonds. That paid for the new aluminum siding 10 years later.

Gym Douche

I recently found myself reading Men's Health when I came across an article regarding that guy who plays the "transporter". It was all about how he got in sick shape by working out at some gym near LAX. The article included a link to the gym's website. The gym supposedly specializes in unconventional workouts; climbing ropes, kettle balls, etc. Being that I have become a serious fat ass lately, I figured I would get in contact with the gym and see if I could sign up for a few sessions with a trainer. Here is the email exchange between me and the gym:

My initial email:

Hi Logan,

I saw the article in Men's Health regarding your training. I live in Los Angeles and would like to meet with you to see if you could train me. I think the article said your gym was around LAX. Shoot me an email or call so we can discuss.

Thanks

Barry

The douchey response:

Hi Barry,

Thanks for inquiring about Epoch Training.

Hopefully the following will answer some or all of your questions regarding our efforts.

Our main facility is located in Los Angeles. We do not have packages, programs for the public or anything even close to memberships. Our clients aren't barcodes, screen names or numbers. Tours of the facility are not an option. We're not being elitist or aloof, that's just how it is for now. We are working on projects until '08 so no new clients will begin before then.

Here's how we work. Epoch provides training to individuals and small groups after an initial screening interview and training session. If the potential client has the right mindset, motivation and discipline to reach their stated goals, a training cycle will be agreed upon and the fees will be established. Training can cease at any time if the client is not meeting their end of the agreement and making the type of progress they are capable of making.

Regarding the simplicity of our web presence, there's no gentle way to say it so here it is. We don't have the time and are not concerned with displaying our craft to those who aren't actively participating in it. The online fitness model is out there already. Epoch Training isn't in line with simple pre-packed fitness programs that are more accessible and marketable to the masses. Unless one becomes actively involved with us, the site and this email are the only information publicly available regarding Epoch Training.

We do not utilize "a program." The training cannot be easily or completely described as it is tailored for each individual and the context in which we find ourselves. Our knowledge and the training progressions of our clients are constantly evolving. Of course, we utilize the following: intervals, "strongman" type activities, rowing, Olympic & power lifting, sprinting/running, gymnastic/body weight movements, trail running & hiking, circuits, Military O-course type events, agility/stability drills and whatever seems right in a given context. These methods and more are mixed in whatever fashion is appropriate for a given individual's goals, ability level and temperament. Variability and creativity make particular, purely physical descriptions insufficient and distracting.

All of this is then stacked on top of serious discussion regarding nutrition and other lifestyle factors that influence health and performance. We do our best to explore and modify outside factors that can either help or hinder progress in the gym. It's all related. The totality of lifestyle stresses; nutrition, sleep/recovery, personal relationships, physical injuries, etc. seems to be what holds people back so that is addressed alongside the training itself.

If Epoch sounds right for you and you'd like to be considered as a client, please tell us more about yourself and what you're after.

Thank you for being curious. We wish you the best in your pursuit of a more complete and effective training regimen.

Regards,

Logan

My absurd response:

Logan,

I served in Long Range Recon Patrols in Southeast Asia. Left the service to study mystic martial arts with the Arashikage family. I was living an ascetic existence alone in the High Sierras with a pet wolf named Timber when I decided I needed to get back in the game. I have been living in Los Angeles for the past few months. I am looking to sharpen my skills and my overall cardiovascular shape so I can sign up for another tour with the special forces. I read the article about the transporter guy and was intrigued.

The ultimate comeback:

Gosh Barry, if you studied under Storm Shadow and Snake-Eyes I highly doubt there's anything you could possibly learn from Epoch Training.


Take care,


He seemed like a douche but the fact that he knows his GIJOE means he isn't all bad.

Well played

Deuce

Am I the only one who thinks Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo has a good soundtrack? Seriously look it up if you don't believe me.

"Deuce, you the best he-bitch in my man stable. If I had two more manginas like you, I'd be a millionaire."

Oprah's Vagina

Last night I realized why the creators of South Park are rich and I am not. I caught an older episode where Oprah's vagina and anus take hostages so they can escape to France. It doesn't end well for them. First the anus gets it, then the vag. Isn't that how it always happens? A bunch of other clever stuff happens but I can't get past her vag holding a revolver.



Wiki

Not Dead

I just figured after my 300th post most people would have lost interest in what I had to say. How many times can I mention butterscotch pudding before I am assassinated? Well by popular demand (one second cousin, one aunt, and one homeless lady), I am back to blogging.

New topics will include:

Pudding in history
Pudding in politics
Cooked versus Instant pudding
Subaru Brats and presidents

Keep your eyes open. Relevant posts coming soon!!!

Oh, and enjoy the new layout!

300th Post

Has it been 300 already? Dear little baby Jesus, who's sittin' in his crib watchin the Baby Einstein videos, learnin' 'bout shapes and colors. I would like to thank you for giving me the strength to write 300 posts over the last couple of years. Oh, and happy birthday Will Farrell. Has it been 40 years already?

Screen Writing for Dummies Idiots

In screen writing this week one of my classmates pitched a complete rip off of the movie Barbershop. I was going to call him on it but he did replace Ice Cube with Paul Walker and substitute a Spa for the Barbershop. Pure genius I tell ya!

13 Year old Truck - Car Mitzvah

After waiting 13 years I finally grew some pubes, I mean got the truck I coveted since I was 19 years old. It was delivered the other day and I am beyond happy. Sure, I overpaid and sure, when I drive on the highway it feels like I am bobble head toy, but that has not made my love waver. I really need to work on my neck muscles by the way.



Batman Mego Doll - got 'em
Land Rover Defender - got 'em
1982 GIJoe collection in the original packaging - need 'em

More than meets the eye

There is a great article in Slate about how the original Transformers movie is far superior to the new one that came out today. I have to agree without even seeing the new one. After all, the original was not only Orson Welles' last movie, but Scatman Crothers' and Judd Nelson's as well. So many actors died in the months after production wrapped, whether it be to cancer or just bad career choices.

The movie caused me great distress like it did for most kids in 1986. I mean Optimus was dead almost instantly. Sadly, my distress came from wondering if my grandmother had passed away around minute thirteen. She closed her eyes as we sat down in the darkened theater. Until I heard snoring coming from the seat next to me midway through the movie, I thought Unicron had taken another great. Grams was eventually taken during the rise of Cobra-La a few years later.

Bye, Hat

Today I said goodbye to a my Mini Cooper. His nickname was 'The Hat' because his roof rack kind of looked like a hat, or at least it did in my mind. He will be missed. I hate change.

Fear can hold you prisoner. Hope can set you free

Even though I like my current job (he says as he fears co-workers read his blog), I still dream of being paid millons of dollars to write. My first script will be called the Cubeshank Redemption. I don't have all the details worked out but I am picturing a cross between Office Space, Shawshank Redemption, and Robocop. More details coming soon.

Intro to Screen Writing starting next Thursday at UCLA . . . so it begins.

Dirty Barry

You ever have the dream of owning a gun? You can be all tough and wip it out when a burgler breaks into your house. I always picture holding it sideways and saying to the would be perp, "This aint yo lucky day, bitch." I went to the gun range yesterday to see how hard I really was. After squeezing off a few rounds with a Glock, I realized not very. Usually, Jewish male and gun in the same sentence would be followed by "killed by." I now know why. Firing a 9mm pistol into a paper target is fucking hard. At twenty feet with one eye closed I was able to hit two lungs and a kidney (pure luck). At twenty-one feet I wasn't even able to hit the target. I left the gun range with a bloody left hand (think I caught my skin of my hand between the clip and gun). What a pussy.

Scared Straight

Today I was taking a very important lunch meeting at the Beverly Hills Hotel Coffee Shop. In the middle of my pitch to sell a tv show about how back hair is good for the environment to my waiter, Ellen DeGeneres and Portia de Rossi walked in. It appears they wanted to have a meeting with my waiter as well. They pitched a story about a tuna salad and a turkey sandwich. I think it is going to be an animated short, but I could be wrong. In any event when I left, Porita and I locked eyes for what felt like an eternity. In the next couple of weeks don't be surprised if you read in People magazine that Portia has left Ellen. I think I turned her.

Apology

I wanted to apologize for my lack of posts lately. In my defense I hope you all realize that these things don't just come out of nowhere. Each post is hand crafted in my mind. Early on in the writing process, I select the best of the young posts and reserve them for this blog. As the posts develop, they are constantly examined and evaluated to ensure they are maturing as expected. My posts are aged longer than most other posts. The additional aging gives the posts more richness, more mellowness, and more complexity. My posts are distintively different. My posts have more rye whiskey and use an exclusive batch base whiskey process. This additional rye gives my posts a more spicy, nutty top note, while the extra batch base increases its creamy smoothness.

Are you feeling the love?

I am out!!!

I am done with gossip sites. My day will no longer consist of scanning the following sites:
The Superficial
Perez Hilton
D Listed
I don't like you that way
Pop Sugar
Popoholic
X17Online
TMZ
Hollywood Tuna
Drunken Step Father

I can no longer read this shit. How do we live in a world where Paris Hilton is free after three days?

BARNEY!!!!!!!!!!!

The gods spoke to me tonight. They said, "Barry, buy Fruity Pebbles. It is a good source of fiber." By gods, I mean the two homeless dudes outside Vons. In any event, they are right. It says so right on the box:

Sensible Solution
Good Source of Fiber
10 Essential Vitamins & Minerals

I just had my second bowl of the night!!!

Superhero Costume

Becoming Batman on a budget is tougher than I thought. I did however find some sweet gloves for when I start to kick ass. Currently they are called Tater Mitts, but I think once I buy a pair I can legally call them anything I want. Evil-doers beware!

Go ahead, make my birthday

When the United Nations debates whether or not being Clint Eastwood or Burt Reynolds circa 1977 is better, I wonder if they take into account that in '77 Clint was already 47 years old.

Trans Am, Orangutan, Trans Am, Orangutan. Tough call. There will never be peace in the Middle East until it is decided.

Who's your daddy?

Lewis Alexander Fein, born February 1973
Barry Jay Fein, born October 1975

Two years, seven months difference.


Tonight my brother got me into his gym, Equinox, on a guest pass. While I was working out, one of the staff members asked him if he was going to buy me, his son, a membership. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!! Poor bastard. He really doesn't look that much older than me. It must have been his cigar smoking, treadmill trotting demeanor that made him seem older.

Randy's Donuts and Road Rage

The one time I was allowed to venture west of the Beverly Hills Hotel this weekend was for a late night donut run. My brother heard from what I will assume was Dom Deluise's stunt double that Randy's has the best jelly donuts in LA. I made the mistake of telling said brother that I was 85% sure of the location of this magic donut shop. After driving around for 25 minutes while listening to screaming regarding my mental incompetence we finally found the mecca. Just look at the picture. If I was a giant Homer Simpson I would have been in heaven.

Mmmm...donut

My Vacation: 21.17 Miles Away

Some people would think it is insane to go on vacation in the town you live. I was one of those people until this past weekend. Fearing what would happen if I said no, I allowed my brother to take me for the weekend to the Beverly Hills Hotel. If I wasn't related and the same sex, I would have definitely assumed I would have had to put out for such an extravagant trip. Well at least not the same sex. I am giving my brother the benefit of the doubt here. As far as being related, come on, everyone has a cousin they want to bang. The weekend had everything I could have dreamed of in a vacation. There was a visit to the hospital, a Smokey and the Bandit Trans Am, bagels and lox, a dog shitting in the hotel room, cigars, and a motorcycle with a sidecar. If there had been a monkey knife fight I would have assumed I had died and gone to heaven.

So where do I begin. This might end up being a crazy long post. I am going to try and write everything in order but I am sure I will screw some of it up. Who gives a shit? Not like you can prove I didn't fight a ninja on my last night in the hotel.

A bit of a background on the trip and why it happened. My brother really wanted to go somewhere for Memorial Day weekend. He just didn't want to fly or drive anywhere far. Since we like eating at the Beverly Hills Hotel so much it seemed like a logical choice. The goal was to relax, eat well, and go for car rides to parts of LA we hadn't been to before. It was just me, my brother and a loaner Welsh Terrier named Terry the entire weekend.

The Hotel:

The Beverly Hills Hotel is owned by the Sultan of Brunei. It is by far the greatest hotel I have ever been to. If you have the means I highly recommend you partake. If you are walking down the hall and a hotel employee is coming at you they will immediately hug the closest wall and make sure not to make eye contact. I have never felt more like Cobra Commander in my entire life.


The Hospital:

For the last week I had explosive diarrhea. The kind of shitting you would read about in a medical journal. Without bragging I would say I pooped my pants at least three times. Even though my brother had a replacement lined up for the trip, I was determined to go and bleed his wallet by drinking every bottle of water in the mini fridge. With that in mind, I checked in and immediately crapped my guts out and cried like a new fish in prison. Not to have anyone ruin his trip, my brother insisted on taking me to the UCLA emergency room so that I could be repaired. Five hours and one IV bag later I was feeling great. By the way, never go to the hospital with someone who is impatient. My brother was screaming at me the entire time the IV was drip, drip, dripping to hurry up. Like I had any control over it.

Dog shitting in the room:

Terry is a great dog and I love spending time with him. He only has one major flaw. He does not know how to shit on a leash (who really does?). I walked him about 25 times on Saturday but not once did he even motion that he had to drop a deuce. Of course in the middle of watching The Long Goodbye in the room, Terry decided it was a good time to take a shit in the middle of the bed. Poor bastard, he must have had a gopher peaking for hours. He just didn't know what to do. After an initial once over by yours truly, I had house cleaning cleanse the mattress. So happy there was no eye contact. They fear their dear Cobra Commander.

Cigars:

My brother has lost his mind. He is certifiably insane. So insane that I am sure he will want me to change this post. First amendment motha-fucka!!! He has become obsessed with smoking cigars. I felt like I had somehow quantum leaped into Winston Churchill's wife's underwear the first time I woke up to see him standing in his dirty misshapen Nordstrom briefs, chewing some beaten up vile cigar at eight in the morning. I spent three days riding around in an Audi Quattro ashtray.


Smokey and the Bandit Trans Am and a Motorcycle with a Sidecar:

On one of our many rides through the country/Hollywood Hills, we came across two amazing vehicles. The first was an old BMW motorcycle with a sidecar. The owner was teaching his girlfriend how to drive while we sat on the side of the road and watched. I don't know what was cooler, the motorcycle or the hot girl learning to ride it wearing motorcycle boots. Does that count as irony? As for the Trans AM, we were driving up and down side streets admiring LA's mid century architecture when, out of nowhere, it appeared. It was the most beautiful site I have ever seen. I am going to say something sacrilegious now but bare with me. It was beautiful and it wasn't black (does that count as irony?). I don't even know what color it was. I literally can't remember, but it was so beautiful that I tried to find it again today to no avail. So many streets and so few Trans Ams. One day we will meet again.

Bagels, Lox, and good food in general:

The hotel has some of the best food I have ever had in my short life. Each morning once my bowels were healed we would have breakfast on the balcony overlooking all the little people. The nova was unfucking-believable. Not to mention the waffle I washed it down with. I could go on but you get the idea.

In Closing:

I had a great weekend. I didn't bring my computer and it was beyond nice to be unplugged. I got to see part of LA I had never seen before. I highly recommend going to Griffith Park, walking around the Fern Dell trail, and stopping at the Trails Pieshop for a slice of pie. Also if you are in town hit the Pacific Dining Car downtown. It makes the one in Santa Monica feel like a cheap imititation. Who am I kidding, if you are reading this, we are friends. If you are in town, I will take you around.

Thanks Lewis, Terry, the hotel staff, and the staff at UCLA for making this a great weekend.

Brendan Fraser and Freddie Prinze Jr. are off the list of celebrities I want to fight

For the last twelve years I have been compiling a list of celebrities I would like to fight. I imagine a battle royale similar to me fighting a gaggle of first graders (nod to Jake). Tom Cruise can't weigh more than a six year old, could he? I figure I would start with the cast of Entourage and finish up with Estelle Getty. I would make that Golden Girl cry like a little bitch.

Sadly, as of last night I had to remove two people from my celebrity fight club. There is no chance of me fighting Freddie Prinze Jr. or Brendan Fraser. I sat next to them while I stuffed my gullet with sushi and I have to say they are both too large to beat with my own hands. I don't think I could win in a fight with either of them. It would be like me fighting a couple of 6th graders. Before you think of me as a big puss realize I am talking about sixth graders from the early '80s. The kind that smoke and have sex. I got no chance against them.

I would still fight Sarah Michelle Gellar though. She was at dinner also. I could take her. It would be a blood bath.

Save the Barry Building

Only in Los Angeles could Donna Mills be standing outside Dutton's Bookstore collecting signatures to save a building named after me.



Yeah, I know who Donna Mills is. Gotta problem with it?

Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker

Today was an especially exciting day. I watched my brother buy licorice in the shape of Scottish terriers while Rumor Willis waited patiently behind him to pay for some smokes. I didn't think Rumor looked as bad as the media makes her out. She is however, tiny. I am not just talking small, I am talking Indian in the Cupboard * little. If I was into playing with Barbies, which I am, I would need her to dress up as 'No Talent Nepotism Barbie' and have her have sex with my entire Urkel collection.



**Worst reference to a movie ever

I have seen the future and it's brown!

For months and months I have been bothering anyone who would listen that I wanted a Porsche Turbo in what I considered classic 70's brown. People said I was out of mind. "The car looks like shit, literally!" Well it looks like the boys at Stuttgart heard me crying in my sleep.

Check out the newest color added to the Porsche lineup:

SUPERBAD = SUPERGOOD

Fuck Spiderman. Fuck Fantastic Four. Fuck Bruce Willis and Die Hard 52. I have found the movie that is going to make this the greatest summer since 1987 (summer I started jerking off). Go to SUPERBAD and watch the trailer that is age restricted. If you don't want to see the movie after that, kill yourself.

Weekend List

My friend Jake came out to Los Angeles for the weekend. I think if I was ever to truly use my writing abilities for evil he would help me bury the bodies. Here are some of the highlights of our weekend conversations:

1. There is nothing worse than cutting into a baked potato that isn't cooked, not even the Holocaust.
2. You need lots of upper lip real estate to grow a proper 'stache.
3. If you are a child sized man, the only appropriate job is being a jockey.
4. Hanging Brain - great term
5. Quincy Jones would had to have fucked a Polar Bear to have a daughter as white as Karen.
6. Idea for a script - Jarred from Subway falls off the wagon and becomes fat again.
7. It should only take a week to get over being in a wheel chair.8. Syphilis will make you happy.9. Need to set up a living funeral to see how people remember me. Buy good coffin.10. A bed at Camp Harlam is more comfortable than the shitty box I got my dad.11. Idea for a cook book - One Wipe Deuce Cook Book. All recipes result in shits that only require one wipe.12. Need to somehow be friends with Andre the Giant before he died.13. Who would you rather be Clint Eastwood or Burt Reynolds circa 1978?14. Start letter writing campaign to get Smokey and the Bandit and Cannonball Run action figures made.15. Why isn't there a channel dedicated to Ninjas? 24-7 Ninja Movies.16. Need a Syrup Wench whenever I am eating pancakes. She will do the pouring.17. The fatter the Jon Favreau the better the movie. The Favreau Principle:

• Rudy (fat) = Good
• Elf (fat) = Good
• Friends (thin) = Bad
• Made (not sure)= Draw
• Armageddon = Not sure if he was in it. More research to come.
• The Break-Up (fat) = He was good but the movie sucked which leads to the Vaughn variable.
• Vaughn Variable - If you add Vaughn to a Favreau movie his weight must be in precise opposition to Favreau's in order for the movie to do well.
• Thin + Fat = Good - no example at this time
  
• Fat + Fat = Bad - no example needed
  

18. The Break-Up stopped being funny an hour into it.
19. Being awake is for chumps.
20. There should be a test to see if someone is stupid. Its called an IQ exam idiot.
21. I am sorry miss but we can't let you through security because you are carrying huge bombs.

So that's is it. Some of it might make sense. Some might not. I will be teaching a class at UCLA this fall on the Favreau principle for those that are interested.

For the Bandit

I just had an amazing pulled pork sandwich at Baby Blues Bar-B-Q. The can of Coors brought back amazing memories of driving through Texarkana.

Spiderman franchise goes down in flames

I feel bad. I am sure somewhere, somehow, somebody worked very hard on making Spiderman 3 come to life. Sadly, they didn't work hard enough. The movie was spider duece. I am convinced both Tobey Maguire and Kirsten Dunst attended the Charles 'Corky' Thacher Acting School. Yes, I am saying they both have down syndrome.

If a movie costs a couple hundred million to make, you would think they could afford to digitally remove at least six of Mr. Maguire's eight chins. As for Kirstin Dunst, how about an on set dentist? Don't even get me started on the Peter Parker dance number.

I'll cut you

My childhood friend's father claims that when I was little I once came to school with a kitchen knife wrapped in a towel. He said from that day on he respected my resourceful craziness. I am a bit sad this never happened.

Give me a diablo sandwich, a Dr. Pepper, and make it quick, I'm in a god-damn hurry.

This is me one day after winning the lotto:

Eliot Stein is dead. Long live Eliot Stein.

I heard Eliot Stein died today as he lived, horribly. I didn't really know him and I won't really miss him so I don't even know why I am sharing.

Eliot Stein, you were a disgrace to fat people everywhere.

*Eliot Stein was no Dom Deluise.


Is it too soon to take down the link to his blog?

Defenders, Steaks, Cigars, and Sopranos. Oh, and my dad too!

It is an unfair world. All my father had to do was live eleven more months and he would have seen the final episode of the Sopranos (coming June 3rd). On a happy note, this weekend I decided for sure I must own a Land Rover Defender. It only took me ten years to make a decision. I test drove one yesterday with my brother in tow. Immediately after, something compelled us to eat steaks and smoke cigars. I actually never lit up, I let my brother have the cancer for both of us. What am I saying? I did eat the steak; I am sure I got cancer, too.


*Photo of my brother from yesterday

Food for thought

I was watching Family Guy the other day and Cleveland brought up an interesting question. Who would you rather bang, Queen Latifah or Halle Berry, but Halle Berry has been dead for six hours. I am going with Halle Berry but that is besides the point. It got me thinking. Would I rather be a ninja or a jedi. Sure if I am jedi I have mind control powers, but if I am a ninja I am no weak minded fool so what does it matter. Either way I get a cool costume so it is a tie there. I guess I would have to go with jedi just for the light saber. I don't know. I still need to think about this. I will have to put together a pros and cons list. It was much easier thinking about a dead Halle Berry.

Throwing Stars and Other Memories

I sort of, I don't know how to say it, have outgrown 'My Name Is Earl.' The show is mildly entertaining and all, but I am sick of the whole karma theme. On a redeeming note, Earl did get to talking about paper throwing stars tonight which had me reminiscing about simpler times. Times when hitting a girl in the face with a piece of paper folded up like an ancient piece of razor sharp steel were okay. Times when throwing said star might actually be considered a way to show affection. Never aim for the eyes though. There is a fine line between love and hate. My stars never flew right. I always had to weigh them down with a penny at the center. Sorry, girls.

This picture pretty much sums up my dating skills:

Huge Predicament

If you have two pairs of socks that are exactly the same and one sock tears, do you throw out just the one and keep the spare or do you throw out the entire pair?


*Actual socks may differ from those shown in sample photo

30 Rock Season Finale

What are the odds I could get Tina Fey and Alec Balwin to come over my place during their off time and act out some of my favorite 30 Rock scenes? Maybe I could at least get Alec Baldwin to call me a pig. Wait that is a totally different fantasy. The fantasy also involved Kim Basinger, me being 16, three sock puppets, and the Hamptoons, but I will save that for another time. I need a summer plan ASAP.

I am only visiting LA

Tonight I had dinner at the Beverly Hills Hotel. It was like I was on vacation. A vacation with no room to go back to and my car parked on the street to avoid valet fees, but a vacation none-the-less.

I kicked Buddy Revell's ass

For my brother's 34th year on the planet I got him a custom Louisville Slugger baseball bat with his actual signature carved into it. You might ask why I am bothering telling you this? Dreams, my friend, dreams.

Dream Log 4/24/07:

I am walking through the frozen food section of my local supermarket when out of nowhere Buddy Revell starts a fight with me. If this was Odgen High School I would have shit a brick, but since I was in dream land I had everything covered. I pulled out two custom Louisville slugger baseball bats, one with my signature carved into it and one with my brother's and I proceeded to beat the shit out of Buddy while screaming, "The Fein brothers are gonna kick your ass." I guess I should have said "The Fein brothers are kicking your ass." No matter, I woke up as the police were arresting me.

I am certainly not the puss that always bled.



You and me, we're gonna have a fight. Today. After school. Three o'clock. In the parking lot. You try and run, I'm gonna track you down. You go to a teacher, it's only gonna get worse. You sneak home, I'm gonna be under your bed.

Seventeen Years of Kuato Jokes

It just never gets old.

Brain is broken

I always enjoy posting my dreams if I can remember them. I am going to be pissed if they are used against me in a court of law.


So at the end of the week, my aunt is having an unveiling for my father at the cemetery. Sadly, it is not an ancient ritual where we dress up in black robes and bring him back to life. I am picturing something along the lines of Pet Cemetery. It is actually a tradition in Judaism where about six months after someone is buried we unveil their tombstone. "Surprise, six months and you are still dead, I think that is a stone anniversery." Due to the enormous amount of depression and the inevitable fighting that would go on between family members I decided to take a pass on going. I figure it's not like he is going anywhere. I can visit another time on my terms. Well that brings us to my dream and what my inner psychce is really thinking.

The dream starts as if my father just died and we have shipped his body to New Jersey for burial. For whatever reason the body was being stored at my mother's house before the actual internment. The worst part is in the dream his body was disassembled for the trip. His coffin was in the basement and his body was upstairs. While this is going on there are about ten welsh terriers running around the house. Every once in awhile one gets stuck behind a wall and lets out a big cry so I have to go break him free. Back to the body, somehow I am in charge of washing him and putting the pieces back together. It is like he is a giant mannequin that needs to be reassembled and dressed for display. I never got past washing the hands. I was too freaked out. Luckily Red Foreman from That 70's show lived with us and said he would take care of it. While he was doing that I was having an early morning beer with Niki Gudex where we discussed the sadness of it all and her race schedule for that summer. Last thing I remember I am getting dressed to go and I am missing the top button of my dress shirt.

Seriously I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

LA does caricature of LA

Only in Los Angeles could I walk into a Farmer's Market and have Ed Begley Jr try and sell me home cleaning products. I got a burrito instead.

I still love you Jack Donaghy

Alec Baldwin scolds his daughter

So he yelled at his kid, big deal. You ever had your feelings hurt by a girl in junior high? I am still trying to block out memories of 7th grade. Speaking of time machines, how awesome would it be to go back in time and kick some 12 year old ass. Dream a little dream.

Next best thing to a time machine

I ask for so little in this life. Clothes on my back, food on my plate, butter in my ass. I would trade it all for a black Trans Am in the driveway. Hell, I would run Coors from Texarkana to Georgia with Sally Field any day of the week. And I am not talking Sally Field in the '70s, I am talking Sally Field now! She can pack her Fosamax.

Bandit Trans Am is back

Bandit Run

Ode to Lipitor

I wanted to write a sweet poem about how Lipitor is a wonder drug and my cholesterol is now 155, but I couldn't think of anything to rhyme with 'arteries clogged.'

Looks like I am going to live to annoy another day.


Great!

Bentley, The Camry of Beverly Hills

I drove around Los Angeles yesterday and in the course of 3 hours I counted no fewer than fifteen Bentley Continentals. The Continental is the everyman's $185K car. The car has become ubiquitous within Beverly Hills. This is kind of a crap post. I just wanted to use the word 'ubiquitous' in a sentence.

I love him

I usually don't like to steal content directly from gossip sites, but in this case I will make an exception.

The Landlord

You're a funny man, Sully, I like you. That's why I'm going to kill you last.

When someone who has written dialogue for Arnold Schwarzenegger thinks you would make a good commando you don't argue, you put on face makeup and shoot a Russian Ballistic knife into the first Val Verde native you see. Sadly, that wasn't the type of commando he had in mind. Either way I am taking the advice. Oh, and I am still putting on the face paint.

Urban Commando

Can't get a thing done

My plans for world comedy domination have gotten off to a rocky start. I have been using all my creative juices to constantly email Eliot Stein*. There is no limit to how far the insanity will go. I am thinking it is either going to end with us being "taken out" by the newly formed Iraqi government or one of us is going to have to cut the other's head off. I am really hoping for pudding.


*Yes I know Eliot Stein is being played by the computer from War Games.

So tired right now!

No Reason to ever go back East

Please see Exhibit A for Dunkin Donuts' current market presence.

Exhibit A:


Please see Exhibit B for Dunkin Donuts' future market presence.

* Exhibit B:


* Based on pure speculation

Quaid!!!!!!!!!

I was approached today by the very powerful and very fat Eliot Stein to join forces in what could be the most powerful comedy website known to man. The comedy will have the power of a thousand suns. I don't know exactly how we will start, but I do have a feeling I will somehow be absorbed by Eliot's gut. When one of his jokes goes awry I will emerge and tell it the right way or at the very least talk about life on Mars.

Wish me luck!!!!

Hand Jobs and Fribbles

Did anyone catch Entourage tonight? The writing is brilliant. Anyone who can make a reference to Friendly's and handjobs in one sentence is my hero.

Bowling Ball Head, oh yeah, and Mozza is banned

I don't know where to begin. Either I have the world's largest head or the world's weakest neck. Either way I am screwed. Let me back up a bit. I went for a bike ride today to burn off my insane dinner at Mozza last night. Somehow I got suckered into going there two Saturdays in a row. The pizza is tasty but it's the butterscotch budino that kills me everytime. I just can't say no to its buterscotchety goodness. Now back to my head. My friggin neck is killing me. I have been told I will get used to riding my bike and to just suck it up, but what if I can't? What if my head is just too big for my neck and the muscles can't do anymore than they already are? This post may confuse a couple of people so I am enclosing a picture to show you exactly what my problem is.

Liz Lemon is the perfect woman

If there wasn't reason enough to love 30 Rock, on tonight's episode Tina Fey told a story about how she pooped her pants in college while eating at an Old Time Buffet yet didn't leave until she was done with her second plate of shrimp. I know the character is fiction but one can dream.

If it bleeds we can kill it

Passover was totally uneventful this year. There were no random blind dates, no dogs on the table, no costumes straight out of a Kabbalah meeting, nothing. The only thing I did realize was that eating Passover with my brother is like being an extra on the set of Predator. I kid you not I watched and listened as he ate a whole chicken, bones and all. He literally sounded like a garbage disposal. I am beyond disturbed.