Funny People

Judd Apatow: writer/director/producer/guythatmarriedthatchickwithawesomeboobsinBigDaddy is set to release a new movie this weekend. Dude is calling it Funny People. You gotta hand it to Judd. He knows a good story when he comes across one. One needs to look no further than his 1995 cinematic tour-de-force Heavy Weights. What?! You've never seen it? It's a movie about these kids who go to (as one character named Jerry - on the left in the picture - puts it) "fat camp." There are go karts involved as the piece-de-resistance of the film. It is most epic. The insinuation of bondage in this picture is in no way indicative of a theme of the film itself. I don't think that Disney would have released it if it were.

My point is, though, that Judd started his insatiable love with fat guys early. Stay with me on this one. I'm not saying he is in love with fat guys. That would just be weird. And libelous.

Mr. Apatow has somehow managed to release the same story over and over and over and over again. Ready? Ok! [That was for the cheerleaders reading this. By the way, if you're a cheerleader, get at me. College age only, though.] Fat/ugly dude hooks up with hot chick. They fall in love based on compatibility of the heart and mind rather than pure physical attraction. How he gets away with it is beyond me. He's like Steven Speilberg and his daddy issues. Hell, he even looks like Senor Speilberg-o. Kinda eerie, in'it?

I need to start following their playbook. These guys have got it down to a science. Start writing, make a movie or nine, marry a hot blonde. Conversion to Judaism pending. Probably not on that last thing, though. I like bacon too much. It's delicious.

On to my point... Or, rather, back to it... Funny People.

From what I've gathered, it's about a comedian who is dealing with a terminal illness and is looking to pass his tricks of the trade onto an up-and-coming comic. I'm sure that one or both of them is in love with a hottie. It's called a formula.

As I was sifting through the news this morning, I came across this piece of "news" wherein I can ask Adam Sandler a question. My question to him would be simple. Straight. To the point. Honest. "How?"

Yup. "How?"

Looking at the guy with the sweet as hell goatee, you're probably thinking "Yo! Fuckin' Yankees, man! Jeeee-ter!" How did he do it? He's made an entire career out of "gibbidy-glees" and "whoopidy-doos" and well, you get the idea. That's not comedy. That's mental retardation. Don't get me wrong, I still laugh my ass off every time Happy Gilmore comes on. I'm not above it. But there he is... being all funny and decidedly average looking and hanging out with his hot wife. Here I am, being all funny and decidedly average looking and hanging out with, well, myself on a Tuesday morning.

What I need is some marketing. Some quality marketing. Maybe a few million, too, but we'll worry about that later. Some marketing and interactive strategery the likes that the folks at center{source} could provide for me. Some marketing that eHarmony can't. I need a The Bachelor-type situation. You know... Where the women instinctively flock to me... Like the salmon to Capistrano. I spelled that right on the first try, by the way.

Lloyd Christmas... 'Nother example of funny (albeit slightly slow) dude workin' it out.

Maybe women do like a sense of humor. Maybe they like funny mixed with Jewish heritage. If so... L'chaim!

Turned on yet? I thought so.

Cadillac Drive

I've finally gone and done it. I've started a proper blog. Kibbe, after much convincing has... uhh.. convinced me to start one. Really, though, I'm just doing it for the AdSense revenue which I am going to exploit for every red cent those folks are sure to generate my way. We're talking nickels here, folks. Possibly even dimes. I'm shooting for the moon, I know.

Now, like 112 million other people in the world I think that the world has to care about what I say. Let's be honest. You know I do. I'm that important. I'm full of snark. How that doesn't get a little, red, squiggly underlined thing, I don't know. I'll take it though. That's a fine prep school education for you guys. It's also not like I've never had a blog before.

Remember Livejournal? Yup. I had one. I guess I still do, techinically. MySpace blog? I used to update it on a daily basis and had quite the devoted following. However, since everyone and their mom started and subsequently stopped using MySpace (thank you very much for fucking it up, NewsCorp) and because I couldn't make make mad skrilla doing it, I moved on... To Facebook. Again, the lack of money... So I've decided that since I have the following three passions in my life:
1.) Cheeseburgers
2.) Ladies
3.) Money
I might as well try and roll them all into one. I'm not really sure how the cheeseburgers work into things just yet... but I'll worry about that later.

29 has been a good year for me thus far. I've been on a few dates which is a few more dates than I normally go on. I'm 5'7" so I'm taller than the average woman but shorter than the average man. This doesn't work against me but it doesn't help things. We'll call it a wash. I mean, look at Tom Cruise. Dude did Days of Thunder and he still gets to hang out with Katie Holmes. She looks like she could eat him for breakfast. Get your mind out of the gutter.

Most of my dates, however, end in a handshake or, even more disheartening, the ass out hug. You know what I'm talking about... The kind where the other party involved is all "Hey, I had a great night! We should do this again." All the while patting you on the back and thinking what they are going to wear to work the next day whether or not they need to change the kitty litter. Because if there is anything in the world that inspires romantic feelings of lust and desire, it's kitty litter.

Or a muffin pan. Langford, I'm looking at you.

But enough about that... Back to the point of my blog. Getting me some. Money. Seriously, folks, let's keep things clean and Christian. 'Cause, you know, I'm really good at both of those things.

I plan on keeping my dozens (literally, DOZENS) of readers up-to-date with my romantic misadventures. For example, my recent missed connection on craigslist is just a small look at what my dating life is like. People have doubted the validity of this story. I have witnesses. It happened. I swear it.

"What kind of response have I gotten so far?" I can hear you asking from all over this fair city. Well, just today, I got the email to your left from a 'woman' who turned out to be a spammer for an adult dating site. As good as dating adults does sound (and it does because, let's face it, I'm not getting any younger) I'm not really into chicks who do weird things with Coke bottles. Like drink out of them. I've got a pretty strict "no caffeine" policy. Sorry. It's just not my thing. Besides... Do you think that I achieved this fine physique by drinking 7 soda pops a day? Nope. I sure didn't.

What I am going to do to for you all is keep you up-to-date on my romantic entanglements or my severe lack thereof. A woman says "hi" to me? You're gonna hear about it. A lady smiles in my direction for singing Dashboard Confessional songs (another tattooed midget love wonder, by the way) when I'm in line at Qdoba? Yup. It'll be here. If only I had something like that happen to me today...

I was in Brentwood this afternoon, meeting with a potential client. I look pretty exhausted right now and rightfully so. It's been a pretty long day. I showed up to Insight Global looking for someone to whom I had been referred earlier this morning. Imagine my surprise when he wasn't immediately available but imagine my severe lack of surprise when I instantly fell in love with the receptionist.

Have I facebook stalked her already? I sure have. Stupid privacy settings.

You'd do the same. Let's be honest. She was hot and I wouldn't have to worry about wearing my 'make me tall' shoes around her because she was pocket-sized. It was win-win. Aside from the fact that it wasn't.

So, dear receptionist at Insight Global in Brentwood, you made my day... With your not being tallness coupled with your being shortness and your clear attraction to my beard. It's handsome, admit it.