Random Thoughts

I’ve noticed that I don’t have to go to the bathroom as often as other people. I’ve developed a theory about this, which I would now like to offer up for scholarly review. My theory relates to the fact that I am Jewish.

We’ve been on the run quite a bit, as a people. The ancient Egyptians were after us and we ran through the desert so fast we didn’t have time to let our bread rise. This was the first step toward creating a people who don’t have to pee frequently. I think the ones that had to stop and pee all the time got caught by the egyptians and were turned into slaves to build pyramids or something. Maybe a few frequent pee-ers managed to survive. Then in WWII we had to hide in various secret compartments to avoid getting sent to camps where people wanted us to take special showers that we wouldn’t live through. Now if you’re hiding in a secret compartment, you definitely cannot go to the bathroom often. The last remaining frequent pee-ers were caught and sent to the showers.

I once told this theory to a Jewish friend and he told me that he thought we were neurotic as a people for the same reason. All the easy going Jews got caught and killed. “Don’t worry man, we’ve got plenty of time — let the bread rise. No problem”. Caught.

I spent some time with my brother in NYC. He has a new pad in the meatpacking district. I spotted this sign in the alley that leads up to his building. It says “No Playing Soccer, Scatting, Biking”. These three things have absolutely nothing in common, which made me wonder how this sign ever came to be.

The alley is extremely small, so I can’t imagine that a game of soccer ever took place there. But apparently at some point in time this alley was dominated by soccer players. They must have been little people. I think it made the locals uncomfortable, navigating through an army of athletic little people to get home. So my theory is that they put up a sign saying “no playing soccer” because you don’t want to put up a sign saying “no athletic little people”. This cleared up the alley to be taken over by bikers, which is much more scary than athletic little people. So they added “no biking”. Everything must have been rosy until the alley was beset with zoot suit wearing folks going “scooby beet dat doo dat dee”. The residents probably found this more annoying than scary, so they added “no scatting” to the sign and the zoot suiters went away.

That’s my theory, anyway.

Today I was greeted with a chat message from my buddy Barto saying Paget thought we were a couple. This isn’t the first time someone has thought I was gay. For the record, I am not gay. Hmmm…maybe I need start wearing Hooters t-shirts and listening to Creed or Bon Jovi. Maybe I’m not high fiving enough and using the word “bro”. My TiVo doesn’t think I’m gay.

I was off visiting some friends in London and I stumbled across some cool socks for sale. I bought the socks and decided to wear them out the next night. I imagined how cool my ankles would look in these socks as I undid the packaging. When I unfolded the socks I got a rude awakening. The cool design wasn’t located in the ankle area, where any normal sock designer would put them. In fact, the design is placed under the foot. Have you ever seen the bottom of someone’s sock? If you answered yes to this question, you are either doing someone’s laundry or have some bizarre sock-bottom fetish. Is England a country full of people with a sock-bottom fetish? Am I supposed to go to a party, take off my shoes and then put my feet up to show off my fancy sock-bottoms? Or is this the work of some kind of evil sock supervillain?

This is how the socks looked in the package. You’d assume these spots are on the ankle area.

Then I opened them up and saw that the spots were on the bottom of the foot. What’s the dilly, yo?

It’s my last day at good ol’ Stage 21 on the Fox lot. The folks working on Stacked are a great bunch of people and I’m genuinely going to miss being around them…

It’s the weekend and I decided to start my day right with brunch at Figaro in Los Feliz. It’s a French cafe with sidewalk seating in one of the most hip parts of LA. I spotted Jacinda Barrett hanging out in front with a motley looking crew.

Then I headed up into the hills to check out the view from Griffith Park. I saw a woman playing violin next to a man performing martial arts with a sword. Was she providing him with a soundtrack? Is he practicing protecting her? I didn’t stick around to find out what their story was. Violins and swordplay in a park spells all kinds of weird.

Took this shot of the Hollywood sign, which apparently my eyes can see much better than my camera. Had to use the digital zoom to get in close enough which makes the photo look like crap. Hey, this is free entertainment so I don’t want to hear any complaints.

I’m back at the hotel and ready for a nap. Had a good day today — got profiles done for Judah and Murray Miller, the writers. Those guys are hilarious. Murray used Jean-Claude Van Damme for his picture and Judah opted for the “deer in headlights” look on his photo.

This is the view of the entrance I use to get in and out of Fox studios. Foxy.

Marissa (one of the actresses) brought homemade cupcakes for everyone today. Some people thought they might be “magic” cupcakes made with a certain special ingredient. Turns out they were regular cupcakes. Mighty tasty regular cupcakes. With chocolate chips on top.

Spent the day on set at Fox studios, dodging these little golf carts that everyone uses to get around on.  How come WE don’t get a little golf cart?  Sheesh.  Had a great time meeting the cast of the show.  Watched the first reading and it was outstanding.  It was a long day and I’m exhausted.  These Hollywood folks work some crazy crazy hours.  Time for me to conk out for a while…