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we'll always have innerspace

sometimes there's just not much else to do besides heavy drinking. but for those two, poorly-covered weeks of the year we put down the bottle (OK we stuck it in the corner of our mouths like a cigar, and seriously considered purchasing beer helmets if they could work for vodka tonics) and became olympics fiends.

while everyone's talking about the VMAs, we're sitting here thinking about the brazillian in the marathon. and let us tell you, we relate. So often, on the marathon of life it seems like we're skating along, way ahead with only a few miles to go and then something completely unexpected happens. a guy in a red kilt and a green beret, with all the fashion sense of TJ MAXX at Christmastime, shoves you off the course.

and lately it just seems like we're on the sidelines with holes in our marc jacobs shoes and no fans on the sidelines to pummel the crazy man. so we start to think crazy things. maybe it doesn't matter that we're completely broke, maybe we should just move to new york anyway. who cares that we don't speak french? six weeks of vacation time a year and a country hostile to immigrants is all we need to light a fire underneath us. and isn't it wierd how the minute someone moves you seem to talk to them more?

record releases

our friends, midnight movies, have just released their record on emperor norton, played morning becomes eclectic on KCRW this morning and have an instore show at amoeba tonight at 7pm. Buy their album today, so you can say you liked them before they became huge like interpol.

another night of olympics?

our car is a little broken right now, but we will gladly email our mini-cooper to anyone who wishes to order it for us.

TONIGHT: we're hoping not to miss the Anthem magazine release party where we will do our best to steal gift bags. Tally from recent parties: 4 DVDs, 15 boxes of hollywood tape (something britney could use a little of), magazines (natch), and a pillow.

phone calls from prison

we don't care how nice he actually is, but there is definately something very unsettling when a happy-go-lucky prison historian from levenworth gives us a call. for a moment, we thought it was a special request from a certain inarticulate publicist that we have been having a rather minor and rather inane battle with for the past few months, or the girl that started banging her fists on our car on a tuesday morning on sunset. Sadly this isn't the case, he just wanted some footage from a 1972 show Burt Reynolds did in their prison...really. Not as interesting as the prison phone calls from party monster, michael alig, but it will do.

it's not friday yet?

we used to make fun of those OnStar users. the ones in the commercials that have locked their babies in a running car, etc., but today we locked our car with our keys still in the ignition. apparently cars aren't supposed to run after you park them. luckily we were clueless enough to have left a window partially open so we were able to break back in...especially since we didn't have cell phone reception in the parking structure.

now, we really hate that this is starting to sound like an "i hate commuting" blog, but really los angeles, did you need to close Sunset Blvd. down to one lane in order to trim some trees?

we think it's time to move somewhere where we don't need to operate any motor vehicle other than the occasional yacht.

bye bye brandon

sorry for the lackadasical posting--though we are getting better--but our dear dear friend brandon has decided to make a move for nyc...er....tomorrow so we've been on a whirlwind tour of every bar that we missed before. nevertheless, we'll be here with cold compresses on our eyes and a finger on the pulse of humanity, or something.

traffic jams: the hippest LA trend since the purse-dog

you know, when it comes down to it, we're pretty reasonable people. we allow for the thirty-second turnover of the martini shaker. we understand when the valet needs to park the car in front of ours first (well, sometimes). but lately it seems like everything in LA is spinning wildly out of control, and our road/highways systems seem best represented by a minefield...you never know when exactly your arm will blow off.

All that said, imagine our total lack of suprise when, while running late for a very important studio meeting, we find ourselves stopped at a red light and stuck in traffic behind a man wrapped in a tablecloth driving an electric chair. It was simply our good fortune that he didn't turn right at overland and continued straight on venice...or was it? We are now seriously looking into the world of cameraphones.

let the geek war rage

RealNetworks is launching iPod compatible software, and making apple look just a little crazy. In fact, apple seems to be sharpening their fingernails for the upcoming end of the year catfight against Microsoft and the debut of their own iTunes/iPod ripoff. Also, if you care to take the other side in this arguement, skip ahead to the upcoming movie wars and apply to be Sony's new bounty hunter...err...piracy analyst.

Super DJ Super Friend

the LA Times interviews our good friend and erstwhile lover, stephen hauptfeur on the phenomenon of rockstar DJs (registration required). The information that Stephen was once a raver called "Kool-Aid" shocks and appals us, mostly because we're as likely to hear that story as we are to get his real age. To see a picture of Mr. Hauptfeur as he dances to Beyonce, click here.

needed: hollywood beauty boy or home james, STAT

we're going to a big-wig producer's birthday party on saturday, but an extra is needed. otherwise you can find us at the open bar, guzzling free booze and hoping that we lost enough weight in two days to show paris a thing or two.

it's called a tip-off

Most SUVs are not allowed on Los Angeles streets. The problem is, LA doesn't seem to remember passing that law. We say, so what? Stick it to them and charge them 50 rubles and a duck! Outlawed vehicles include: The Chevy Suburban and Tahoe, the Range Rover, the GMC Yukon, the Toyota Land Cruiser and Sequoia, the Lincoln Navigator, the Mercedes M Class, the Porsche Cayenne S, and the Dodge Ram 1500 pickup (with optional Hemi), not to mention the Hummer.

Someone, somewhere has to know a cop with an itch to ticket.

like sand through the hourglass

last night was monday, which means that we were at the dime pouring booze down our gullets, pounding our fists on the tables and planning to kill all children from ages 8-15. 'That's the last time a cheer camp keeps us from the gym!' we chortled. Also there: Quentin Tarantino sans Sophia. Was he just a good-hearted apparition reminding us to rent Kill Bill 2 on DVD today, or is there something more? And why does he keep wearing Samuel L. Jackson's hat?

but do they know where they're going?

Defamer says that the movie 'Collateral' is unrealistic because Tom Cruise isn't scary. Are we the only ones over here that think that the movie is unrealistic because it features a cab driver in Los Angeles?

Maybe we're the only born&raised ones, the only ones who needed to get drunk at the age of 14, the only ones who had our licenses confiscated, the only ones who worked next door to drug dealers, the only ones who lived by the last known existing Taxi stand in LA (Westwood and Lindbrook Dr, 90024), but we've realized that Taxi drivers in LA have no idea where they're going...EVER. Does Jamie Foxx clutch a Thomas Guide the whole time? Does he lead TC to kill the wrong people by driving him to an incorrect address?
come one, we're the last people to beg Hollywood for some realism (we live here for chrissakes and know what we'd be getting ourselves into), but LA and Taxi drivers is just taking it a little too far.

note: with this entry we're also slipping into the use of the royal we, because any time I can talk for more than one person, we wll.

damn time zones

i'm three hours later than everyone because I live in LA and have a lax job but, jessica blueprint officially has the best "i moved to nyc and then my life became amazing" story ever. congratulations!

please get the $#%& off the road

apparently some people in LA think it's declasse to drive fast and prefer to "set the pace." I see this everywhere: on the freeway that I drive on daily, on sunset blvd, in my parking garage. Give it a fucking break. If you can't handle hairpin turns at 50 mph, get off the damn road. This isn't europe. i'm not on my monthlong august vacation. i commute here. And every time you superfluously break in your altima, realize that i can do everything on the road better than you...and in a cadillac.