In a few short hours, I’ll be heading home from the holidays. I’m announcing this mainly to give my cat time to hide the drugs. Horatio has really bought into the L.A. lifestyle, and unfortunately it’s the one from 1982. I’d tell him, but he really does look good in pastels. Known fact - cats look good in pastels and Wayfarers. You can look it up.
Can you tell that I’ve been awake a bit too long and have a system flooded with cold medicine? Does it show?
No matter- where was I… Oh yes. Return to LA. I see it as a dramedy (or maybe a comma) involving a man who comes back to his new neighborhood to find that it’s more or less the same as it was a few weeks back when he didn’t really know much about it. So it’s filled with poignant moments like where he sees that the old Korean shopkeeper on the corner is still there, and that he still isn’t on a first name basis with the guy because he’s only seen him a couple of times. Lots of funny/sad stuff like that, comedy with heart, a “chick flick for guys,” see? Think “Memento” meets “Seed of Chucky.”
No, no, don’t think that. I just did, and I don’t recommend it.
See, what we Hollywood Idea Machines get that those New Yorkers don’t is that great ideas like that one, genius ideas, are just out there for the taking. It’s true. That’s why after a mere three+ months in Hollywood, I’m already a hundredaire.
New York? I had a great time, I really did. But it gave me a cold. Which led to cold medicine. And that’s exactly my point: Hollywood would never give me a cold. No, in Hollywood a cold tells you that it absolutely loves you, that there’s magic there between it and your immune system, that it can’t wait to infect you, and then it somehow loses your phone number. So it’s somewhat awkward a month later when you see some guy at a party with your cold and you all have to pretend like it’s totally cool, but hey, that’s the business. And we like it that way.
I apologize in advance to all who came here seeking sharp political satire and got an over-weary cold medicine junkie. Until tomorrow…
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Fanny Roborat
11 comments
pjk
January 5, 2005 at 5:02 am
1Hope it’s good cold medicine (thank you, Afghan poppy farmers), and hope you rebound soon, Adam.
Rambling? Hardly. Try typing in the dark with a 12-pack of Becks or half a bottle of Bacardi in your veins at 4 am (not now, when you’re better).
Sue
January 5, 2005 at 8:45 am
2Actually, instead of hiding the drugs, maybe Horatio should simply line ‘em up on the doorstep - could be the best thing for what ails ya. Or at least you wouldn’t notice the cold thing so much….and he’d *still* look good in pastels and Wayfarers.
My dad used to say if you treat a cold it’ll be gone in seven days, but if you leave it alone it takes a week.
Best wishes for the speediest possible recovery.
Dee
January 5, 2005 at 8:48 am
3You know, they don’t make chicken soup in LA. Well, they do, but it’s got truffles and sundried tomatoes and saffron and a drizzle of extra-extra-no-really-never-even-thought-of-it-virgin olive oil drizzled over it. And the chicken is organic, free-range, raised by Buddhist lesbians.
Have another hit of Nyquil.
Mary
January 5, 2005 at 10:06 am
4What? Your mother isn’t packing you off with a barrel of chicken soup? My illusions have been shattered! Shattered I say!
As one with only 3-4 hours sleep, I thought this was a great entry. It was one I could wrap my sluggish mind around and it didn’t use the word tsunami.
Momma in New Yawk
January 5, 2005 at 12:27 pm
5Well, I like that Mary!
He could have had anything in the refrigerator that was still there after the Holiday revels: leftover pizza, chinese food, pickled herring, fruitcake, and liverwurst, just to name a few treats.
Everybody knows anything from your mother’s kitchen is good for you.
Picky Adam.
huh.
ABM
January 5, 2005 at 1:09 pm
6So Adam you’re the one I can blame for this sniffely nose and stuffy head? Thanks! We all know how important it is to find someone to blame for every little thing.
tess
January 5, 2005 at 2:14 pm
7Hit up a pho shop and start slurping to your heart’s content.
Then again, it’s interesting to read your drug-addled entry and still find it wittier and more coherent than instapundit on, well, any day.
Murray
January 5, 2005 at 5:08 pm
8Sort of like me in the middle of the night.
Just a couple of days ago I had a dream and knew it was the makings for the Great American Novel, all I needed was a couple of years to flesh it out. By morning I thought “man that was stupid” and now I can’t even remember it.
“I’m already a hundredaire”, when you really want to leap up to the big time, you can get a job in the biking industry, where over the course of a year you can make literally hundreds and hundreds of dollars.
Thompson
January 6, 2005 at 2:13 pm
9Hm. I’m all in favor of anything that involves my cold for the year ending up on the West Coast, whether or not it loves me, my script, my bank account, whatever. In fact, if we could possibly arrange for it to go surfing in shark-infested waters, I would a happy little ball of cynicism.
And, for the official record, fruitcake does not come under the heading “food.” It comes under the heading “doorstops” or “acceptable substitutes for depeleted uranium.” There are only two things more dense than the average fruitcake–a black hole, and Dan Quayle.
And now I’m going to shut up before Mama Felber decides to hurt me very badly for my insolence.
Troy
January 6, 2005 at 2:23 pm
10Interview witha starwars nerd
http://www.collegeiseasy.net/starwars.html
NLB
January 6, 2005 at 2:47 pm
11Admit it, Adam - that last entry was you after another hit of Nyquil prepared by Horatio.