A Note to The Joey Of Later TOday

You got very drunk for most of the latter half of 04/28/2005 and into the wee hours of 04/29/2005

You had fun, good times were had by all. Like a sucker you allowed your companions to drag you away from a bikini contest before it even started.

I don't envy you the headache you most likely have as you read this.

I can't tell you exactly why, but as you were saying goodbye to your playmates in the parking lot of your friendly neighborhood Rock Bottom pub you were goofing around and rolled your ankle badly. I don't envy you that ankle pain when you wake up either, because I am drunk as hell I felt that s**t...

Good to know that I still have the presence of mind to censor my f**king cussing when I am three sheets to the wind.

***************************

IN THE NEWS TODAY Funny as hell.

NOTE TO READER: The following is a sketch I wrote well over a year ago. It was written by doing an exercise where you take a book, flip to a random page and read a random passage and use that as a springboard for your own piece. The book I used was a collection of essays by Soren Kierkegaard. The passage was something about the existence of God.

You will notice that I borrowed from my own work eventually, the theme of this piece later occurs in a comic I wrote on WEASELS. Also know that I had just watched MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL the night before, so there is some influence there. It's funnier if you read it in your head with silly Python-esque accents.

We hear the sounds of pealing thunder, and roaring oceans as the world comes into being.

God: And I said let there be light. And there was light and it was good. And there was... some other stuff, and then I rested. (sits) ahhhhh...

Skeptic: Who are you then?

God: I am God, my child.

Skeptic: Well, that's a bit self-important, don't you think?

God: I beg your pardon?

Skeptic: No, I beg yours. What's so great about you, then? Hmm? Why should I worship you? Or even call you God, for that matter?

God: Why should you...? Well, I am God. What more reason do you need?

Skeptic: Who said?

God: Who said?!

Skeptic: Right.

God: Right, what?

Skeptic: Right, who said?

God: Oh. Well, I said.

Skeptic: Oh, I see. So any old bloke who says he's god and it must be so, is that right?

God: Well, no, but...

Skeptic: Ah ha! So then I shouldn't believe you, right? What's that old saying? "If you meet Buddha on the road, kill him." You see my predicament.

God: But the entirety of existence comes from me. I am perfection. All and all am I.

Skeptic: Now you're just getting pretentious, aren't you?

God: All right. Look, you want proof?

Skeptic: Proof?

God: Proof!

Skeptic: Well, I suppose that would help now, wouldn't it.

God: Behold! I shall create life! I shall take the body of a beaver and attach to it a duck's bill.
(The creature he describes forms before their eyes as he describes it)

Yes, live my child, LIVE! Now, for the finishing touch; it's a mammal, but it lays eggs.

(In response it promptly lays a nice large clutch of eggs)

There! See ye, doubter? See ye, that I am the lord almighty?!? How's that for proof?

Skeptic: Proof? That's not proof. That's just stupid.

*********************************

New link under "Friends" to the left, called Maturity. Check it out. The guy is funny as hell.

A letter to a friend

*This letter speaks on behalf of many. You know who you are. If you disagree with any of it, or wish to contribute more, please hit the comments.*

Dear Friend,

I read your little explanation where your blog used to be, and I have a couple issues to bring up. AND PLEASE, I BEG YOU, READ THIS CAREFULLY. PAY ATTENTION.

You are not "losing" your friends, you are throwing away your friends. As much as we disagree when you use phrases like "my life fell apart" we have tried to be there for you and point out the good things in your life and help you to pull out of this funk. We have tried many times. And do you know how you have responded to our efforts? You have completely ignored everything we have tried to say and do for you. You may not think so as you read this, but trust me, I have been closely observing you these months of this mood now and it all goes in one ear and out the other.

This behavior makes us feel frustrated and helpless. YOUR behavior makes us feel that way. We feel like you are begging for help and yet you refuse to take help when it is offered. When you consider how this makes us feel you should start to realize why you are "losing" us.

That brings me to another point. You are so fixated on hating your life that you are BLIND to all the things that are SO GOOD about it. You have friends that love you, and care about you, but instead of enjoying our company you dump on us and push us away. You have comfortable income and substantial savings, but you constantly complain about not knowing what to do with it, as if your money is a burden to you. I AM $20,000 IN DEBT, how do you think that s**t makes me feel? Or Nick and Brandon and Brian who live paycheck to paycheck, how do you think they like hearing that? You also have parents that love you very much and are worried sick about you lately, and I know that you know that, but you don't seem to care. That just leaves the basic fundamentals of life that you don't seem to enjoy or appreciate either; a roof over your head, food in your belly and a job (even if you don't enjoy said job, you are a productive, functioning member of society, and that is something to be proud of).

Until recently I associated you with a fun-loving, funny guy with questionable taste in movies. :-) It's gotten to the point now where when I think of you I think of some guy who is going to be morose and moody and tell me how much his life sucks. Nobody wants to be around that. And you know it. If you were one of us, you wouldn't want to be around that either.

All I can do is put this up here and hope that you read it and let it sink in. If this is a chemical thing and you need to see a doctor, then do it. If this is purely psychological, then snap out of it. Whatever it is, it needs to stop. We are your friends and we love you, but lately we don't like who you've become.

With much love,
Joey

THE FORGOTTEN

Oh my god. I think one of the dirtiest tricks Hollywood pulls on us working-stiff movie goer types is the ol' bait-n-switch. You know what I mean. The trailer sells you one kind of movie and then the ticket lets you watch an entirely different film that happens to have the same cast and crew, and even a few scenes in common, but is NOT the film you paid for. Wicker Park leaps to mind as the only other recent one I can think of. For that review see my archives.

This movie is another bait-n-switch. It sells you something bizarre and interesting, possibly even something new, but what you actually get is... well, I'll get to that.

Essentially JULIANNE MOORE has memories of her dead son, Sam, that nobody else seems to share. She finds clues that he was, indeed real, and sets off to try to find proof that she is not insane. Along the way more memories become erased and stranger things happen. Like people being suddenly yanked into the sky.

SPOILER! BEWARE! SPOILER!

Aliens. F**king aliens from outer space are responsible for the memory holes happening to Julianne Moore's friends and family. Aliens running experiments with human memories by deleting some of them and seeing what happens. I think I liked that movie better when it was called DARK CITY. Forgotten is a lot like Dark City but without the cool looking bad guys or creepy sets or intense music. ...And no HOT JENNIFER CONNELLY either, for that matter!

I don't know what I expected or even would rather have been the cause of the action, but as soon as it was aliens I just couldn't take it seriously anymore. The movie starts off all dark and intense and almost noir-ish and then our mysterious malevolent mind muckers turn out to be aliens who are playing around with some heads. Nothing more sinister than a biologist electrocuting a rat and then studying it's behavior in a maze. Whoopty-doo!

They lost me pretty quickly from then on, so I watched with a much less invested eye and began to evaluate the movie for it's writing. BOO! Each piece of fiction establishes its own set of rules for how that world operates. In Forgotten's world, for example, aliens are very real and are toying with us for their own education. They establish things about these aliens also, like they do as they please, and they don't care about humans one bit. At the end of the film this particular experiment is deemed a "failure" and the alien in charge is literally yanked off the planet. Now these aliens display flagrant disregard for human lives and human feelings, so it comes as a bizarre surprise when all is right with the world and the abducted children are miraculously returned without reason or explanation. They are just back. I mean it actually cuts directly from the final showdown with the alien to Julianne running to the park and finding her son there, alive and well and completely unaware of any of the events that took place. WHAT?! WHY?! I mean Julianne f**ked up their whole plan, and they had her kid. What is in it for them to give the kid back? Why would they do that? I'll tell you why; because the ending that made sense wouldn't have been a happy one.

1 out of 5 poops

Karmic Balance

That same day that I last posted about a friendship sliding downhill I ran into a friend I haven't spoken with in roughly ten years.

I was at Casey Moore's bar hanging out with some friends and struggling to stay in a good mood, but very near tears. Then who walks in but Nick Colon. I stared right at him for a long second. He looked exactly the same. He walked over to the bar and ordered himself a drink.

From elementary school to somewhere in the middle of high school Nick and I were inseparable. We would often eat and/or sleep over at each other's houses, we always walked to school together, and we told each other everything. Nick was my best friend in the world and he lived about a hundred yards from my house. Then my sophomore year my Dad got remarried and we moved to the other side of town. Granted it was only about 2 miles away, but that new distance combined with that fact that Nick and I had each been developing other friendships and other interests outside of each other since hitting high school eventually lead to us drifting apart completely. There wasn't a falling out or anything we both just sort of moved on.

I excused myself from my table and went over to say hello. I decided to mess with him a little bit. I sat down on the stool next to him and stared at him, waiting for him to look my way. When he did I smiled and said "hello." He responded with a "what's up, man" that had that tone in it that said "why are you staring at me, you weird guy." Then he looked back to the bartender to order his drink.

After he ordered and the bartender went off to pull his beer I asked "You have no idea who I am, do you?" Then he looked at me with a confused expression for a long second. Suddenly his face lit up and you could almost hear the cartoony "ding!" of the lightbulb turning on in his brain. "Joey!"

It was good to see him. He's doing well. We exchanged numbers and I told him I would call him this weekend after Charlie opens.

Meg pointed out that the day in some ways was karmically balanced for me. I mourned the loss of one old friendship, and celebrated the rekindling of another one. At the very least my mood was on a more even keel for the rest of the night.

What's that old saying? When Life closes one door it kicks in another... something like that.

When it rains it pours

So far this week I found out that a number of my friends have been keeping me in the dark about something that it turns out wasn't such a big deal anyway. I'm not upset about the actual thing they were hiding so much as the deception itself.

To be treated like a child that cannot be trusted to handle himself emotionally by the people I love and trust the most is quite a large slap in the face and it is not appreciated.

Then I talked with one old friend who was very upset because her grandmother may not live out the week. I want so much to help her in some way, but what can you do? Nothing. Nothing at all.

The very next day every piece of electronic equipment I came near went haywire. I was in a hurry to get my sound work to the theatre and that's when my CD burner wouldn't work, then Brian's CD burner wouldn't work, my MD burner wouldn't work, then the equipment at the theatre wouldn't work, etc etc. Not to mention I was late getting there anyway, which always looks bad. And then I topped that day off with a big, stupid fight with Meg.

Today I had a long and heated conversation with another old friend who opened my eyes to the fact that our friendship isn't at all what it used to be. Not by any stretch of the imagination. This point was made crystal clear by the fact that observations we made about each other's characters during this discussion haven't been applicable in quite some time. I had to cry when I realized this shift had occured years ago without me even noticing.

And today I found out that somebody very special to me may not live to see Christmas.

I have never felt so helpless in my life. I mean, this isn't a "poor me" party, a great deal of this clearly isn't about me.

It's just one of those times where Life reminds you that you are not the one in the driver's seat, whether you like it or not.

Buckle up, it's a bumpy ride, and Life cut the shocks because it likes the low-rider look.

"Hi Officer."

Friday night I was at a party at Brett's house. At said party I ran into a friend who is a big pot-head. After some brief socializing inside she came over to me and made the international sign for "wanna go smoke?" You know what I mean; she mimed as if she had a joint in her hand with a questioning look on her face. So her and I and a few others went out to her car and sparked up.

After a little bit the others went inside and she and I were left alone. We chatted a bit and then she said she had to use the restroom. I asked if she wanted to go back to the party, or if I should just wait there. She said to wait there. Cool.

A minute or so after she went inside I started seeing a bright light just a little ways up the street. I couldn't tell what the hell it was at first, but then it clicked. It was a cop walking up the street shining his flashlight into the windows of cars... and he was making his way straight towards me!

At first I panicked. I thought "should I run?" No, he'd just chase me, and that would be bad. My only option is to stay right where I was and play it calm and respectful and hope he doesn't notice that I'm stoned. The good news was I wasn't that stoned, just a little bit. Next thing I know the flashlight is shining directly in my face through the driver's side window.

"Hi Officer." I started off the conversation sounding a little confused and surprised, but not scared. Thank god I'm an actor.

"What are you doing?" He asked in that stern and serious tone that cops get.

"I was a little too drunk to drive, so I thought it would be safer to take a nap in the car." Damn, can I think fast or what? Now I look responsible.

"Mm-hmm. It's not a good idea to sit in the car."

"Would you prefer I went back inside?" I asked in an I'm-helpful sort of tone.

"Yes. I think that's a good idea."

"Okay. Sure." I said as I got out of the car. As I closed the car door he came over to where I was standing, took a sniff and then looked me directly in the eye.

"It's also not a good idea to smoke pot." As those words passed his lips I could feel my intestines twist up and every hair on my neck stand straight up on end. I wanted to burst into tears, but the actor in me retained control.

"That's good advice officer." I said as I returned his level stare. He made no move to arrest or search me, so I said "Thank you, sir. You have a good night" and walked back towards Brett's house.

Last night I saw a friend of a friend who I haven't seen in about three years.

His name is John-John and he is a co-worker of my friend Brandon. The last time I saw him was the one and only time we ever met. I remember liking him and hoping he would become part of our little group/family, but I didn't see him again until last night.

When he walked into the bar I flashed back to that night three years ago. God damn was that a fun night. We all went out to dinner to Buca di Beppo for Brian's birthday and Brian insisted on buying everyone else dinner for his birthday... because he's weird or something, I don't know.

It was Brian's 21st and he and Brandon and John Roland were the only ones legal to drink yet, so they would order drinks and those of us sitting near enough would share. We had our own little private room so we weren't worried about getting caught.

I can't speak for everybody but I know that when John and I left that restaurant we were pretty toasty. We agreed to meet back up at my apartment to continue our little gathering, and some people collected money for an alcohol run on the way. I had been drinking wine at dinner and wanted to continue that trend so I asked them to get me a couple bottles of cheap wine.

We get to my apartment and whip out the wine bottles and begin to dig for the corkscrew... and find that it is MIA. Understand that this was the party pad for ASU in 2001, I mean we had parties like once a month, if not two or three times. So I knew that we had a corkscrew, but it was nowhere to be found. I started getting restless and half-jokingly suggested taking the bottles outside and breaking the necks off on the side of the building. It was agreed that this might cause tiny bits of broken glass to wind up in our systems and the idea was voted down.

Here's where John-John and I got all MacGuyver-drunk. We busted out my tool box and rummaged through it. Here's what we did: we took a 3" woodscrew and threaded it into the cork with a phillips head screwdriver and then used pliers to pull it out. This was one of those cheap-ass wines with the hard rubber corks so it definitely was a two person job. One person had to hold the bottle steady while the other did the work.

Never underestimate the ingenuity of a man separated from his buzz.

I also remember that John Roland kept filling up his mouth and spraying Brian with contents much to John's great amusement and Brian's great annoyance. I remember we played Kings. Near the end of the night I remember John and I getting into a bit of a wrestling match and beating the living hell out of each other. Not that we were actually mad at each other, it's just that overblown-on-alcohol-testosterone thing.

Good times.

Comments:

Sigh, you men, always trying to beat the hell out of each other intstead of making out. That's where you go wrong.
Ben Siemon | 04.15.05 - 8:45 pm | #

Ben Ben Ben, you just need to realize that punching and making out are really the same thing. It's just that one hurts more than the other.
TheRealDavid | 04.16.05 - 8:19 pm | #

Gravatar Making out sure can hurt sometimes. Especially when her boyfriend catches you.
Edward Carter | Homepage | 04.17.05 - 1:24 pm | #

A Streak Comes To A Close

I often brag about getting wasted constantly in college and only suffering from one hangover ever. I also brag about that same occasion being the only time I ever threw up from alcohal. It also happens to be the only time I ever passed out while drunk.

One of these streaks came to end this past Saturday. But I'll get to that.

The one time from years past was a big mistake on my part. I mixed alcohal with rejection. It was 1999 and boy did we party like it was (Prince refrence). You see, I ran into an ex-girlfriend at a party and had begged said ex-girlfriend to take me back. She stood her ground and said no... primarily because I had been the one to dump her in the first place... but that is another story.

Anyway, she said no, so I returned to the party romantically maimed and set to work on drinking it all away. I walked around the room pounding every half empty cup I saw. A mouthful of beer here, a gulp of white russian there, a swig of a screwdriver. Then when the other people's leavings had been exhausted I hit the kitchen and proceeded to slam down Soporo, vodka, Tropico and whatever else I could get my mits on. Fastforward about forty minutes and I was sitting on the rim of the bathtub leaning over the toilet.

Picture this; you're sitting hunched-over on the rim of the tub with your head propped up in your hands and your elbows propped up on your knees. That is how I woke up the next morning. Every joint was stiff and aching from the comination of severe dehydration and sitting in the same position for several hours straight. My head and stomach hurt so bad and felt so gross I thought any second I might just spontaneously die from the grossness. Or maybe it was the pain... I dunno, the memory is hazy for that day.

Well, this last weekend (back to 2005) saw Joey wake up on Sunday feeling like somebody had played a nasty trick on him by secretly taking out his eyes and replacing them with new ones that were slightly too big for his sockets, and by replacing his stomach with a bowl of ants.

So ends my non-hangover streak. Generally I don't get them because I stay up until the buzz wears off and I drink a couple big classes of water and take a tylenol and a multi-vitamin ALL before going to sleep. I did everything except the vitamins and tylenol this time. I don't think that is what did it though. I think it might have been the unusually massive amount of booze I had that night before. Yeah, maybe that was it.

Wandering into a dark alley late at night...

I went bowling last night for the first time in about two years. Some friends that I don't see much invited me, and it was $1 per game, so I couldn't resist.

I brought my ball.... Yes, that's right, I have my own ball. Once upon a time I bowled often. Once or twice a week for a while. Not in a league, just for fun. So anyway, during that time my parents got me a bowling ball for my birthday.

Seeing my ball come out brought snickers and jibes about me being a bowling dork, and jokes like "great, why did we invite him? I wanted to win a few." I laughed their reactions off and assured them that I haven't lifted it in so long, that I probably suck.

I then punctuated that sentence with a beautiful strike. Perfect combination of speed and spin, it broke at just the right moment and slipped right into the sweet spot.

I still got it.

As the game went on Sam was bowling VERY well also. In that one game he turkey'd twice. Going into the tenth frame I was the last bowler up. It looked like he had me. He had a 185 and the only way for me to win was to get all three balls in the tenth frame. Either a strike right off, or a spare and a good final ball at least.

Two strikes and I think my last ball was a nine.

I finished with a 190. Not my best game, but clearly not bad considering the length of my absence from the game.

Makes me wonder what else I can do well without practice. Maybe my chances of Olympic Gold in figure-skating aren't so crazy afterall. I'll show you nay-sayers! Sayers of nay, I'll show you all!

Mitch Hedberg has left this world

...I think.

It seemed a little too convenient that his death was announced on April Fool's Day, but then on Sunday, April 3rd The Arizona Repbublic ran an obituary, and Mitch's WEBSITE had a note from his family.

If you look back in my archives to September 2004 you can read the tale of how Mitch blew his Phoenix show because he was staggering drunk AND popping pills. If you had seen what I saw that night, you wouldn't be surprised that the man had a heart attack in his thirties.

But then there's Meg's Google search that yielded an April Fool's Day 2002 report of Hedberg's death. Hmmm... well, we know he was alive after 2002, because at that point he had not yet had his Comedy Central Special and had not yet disgraced himself in front of yours truly in Phoenix. So, if this is a hoax, then he's done it before.

At any rate; if he's dead, it is a sad loss for the present generation of comedy in america. If he is still alive... then he's a moron. April Fool's Day has got to be the worst day to try and pull a faked death. TOO OBVIOUS. And to pull that same gag twice in two different years is horribly unoriginal.

Although, if he is alive and his Googling his own name yields this post, and many others like it belonging to confused fans all over america... he's probably laughing his ass off.

Anyone else have any info on this?

"We will look at an arrogant, out-of-control, unaccountable judiciary that thumbed their nose at Congress and the president."

--Tom Delay on the death of Terri Schiavo--

This kind of language worries me. I was kind of under the impression that our government operated under a system of "checks and balances." You know, if one of the three branches is doing something wrong, another branch has the ability and even the responsibility to call them on it and stop it. What's a good example...? Oh, I know; something like creating a law to not only subvert the last wishes of a person, but a law that takes the decision making power out of the hands of that person's loved-ones and puts it in the hands of government. Terri's Law.

I want a law! Joey's Law. My law would be as follows:

We, the congress of the United States of America hereby grant young actor, Joey Moore, the right that every other Tuesday he be allowed to release a cage full of enraged monkeys into Tom Delay's offices to do as they please. Said monkeys shall be regularly taunted and beaten and forced to listen to old Ace Of Base albums to ensure their level of rage remains consistent from week to week to properly reflect the rage of young Joey himself.

Joey's Law.

So, because the courts carried out their duty based on that pesky little thing called the constitution, and the report of the panel of doctors who reported Terri was most definitely in an "irreversible persistent vegetative state" they are going to be "looked at"?

And what does "looked at" mean anyway? Does it mean bringing murder charges against the judges? Does it mean smearing them publicly to whip up a frenzy of public opinion against them? Does it mean disbanding the courts to further consolidate the already alarming level of White House power?

I know that last one may seem far-fetched, and will most likely never happen but this administration continues to surprise me with it's actions every day, and not in ways I like.

Comments:

"Looked at" means he wants to make noise about the issue to satisfy the Christian right, but he doesn't want to make any specific promises that he can be held to. This is because actually doing anything beyond making noise would scare all the other people who vote Republican.

One would hope that the Christian right will make good on their threats and take their votes elsewhere. Pat Robertson has threatened to start his own political party in the past.
Edward Carter | 04.02.05 - 12:03 am | #

Great that would be wonderful. I've always thought that political conservatives and Christian fundamentalists were an odd match...
Josh | 04.02.05 - 1:53 am | #