busblog

nothing in here is true

  1. Saturday, November 22, 2014

    they thought they could bury us, they didnt know we are seeds 

    BEYONCE TWERKINGeons ago i sold tvs and stereos on commission. i loved getting paid commission only because the smarter i got, the more money i made.

    im still not sure if uber, which is also commission only, is pure luck or a tiny bit smarts, but last night i was busy doing relatively long trips all night.

    sad thing: i barely made my quota despite working a full shift. and getting tipped: twice.

    first tip was from a canadian man here on business going from staples center to Boa near beverly hills. he said he was from winnepeg. i said, now thats in manitoba, right? he was shocked at my knowledge. it was his first uber ride. we talked hockey and hoops and listened to latin jazz. the ride took nearly a half hour, i drove on side streets and at the end he said “may i ask how much it cost?” i said give the phone one sec, ah yes here it is and it flashed $18. he smiled, amazed, and dug into his pocket for two crisp dollar bills. hmmmm. whatevs.

    then i took a lady from beverly hills to the airport. she was taking a red eye to visit her husband who was on a movie shoot. she told me a tale of Nicki Minaj being quite a diva and i was all omg i never knew it was that bad. BUT IT WAS BAD.

    the best trip i took was i was at the airport again after a different person was going to the bahamas. i stopped off at the mcdonalds to relieve myself and get a $1 coke. as i was pulling out i got a beep. he dropped the pin in the wrong place (a scary hidden hood near the airport) so i called him and he said he was at Thrifty car rentals. turned out it was a rich old jewish doctor. he and his wife had just returned from hawaii and figured out the sneaky way to get an uber: take the free shuttle out of LAX to the rental car place and call and uber from there (we are blocked from LAX proper).

    we drove down the 405 listening to the 50s station and he sang along with every tune. at Getty Center we were at a stand still at midnight and we all cursed the 405. the wife asked me to just take sepulveda. i did for a mile and got back on and it was smooth sailing to the valley. they lived super close to where Ali’s dad lives. great house, sweetest people.

    they tipped me $10. now thats how you do it!

    off to drive bruins and trojans to the rose bowl.

  2. Friday, November 21, 2014

    went to the doc for a while 

    10808022_10152836543233057_161735902_n

    he said he had some bad news.

    he said i need to quit the xbi.

    i told him i wasnt in the xbi.

    he said i couldnt even work part time for them, not even for little quickies.

    i said the xbi doesnt even exist.

    he said seriously you need to relax.

    he said if you are in need of money and thats why you work for them now and then, you need to do something else, like write books, screenplays,

    anything that wont raise your heart rate.

    i said i feel like im the coolest cucumber in the shopping cart.

    he said these tests say otherwise.

    ive been in a daze ever since.

  3. Thursday, November 20, 2014

    mike nichols died today 

    closer

    he made some pretty damn good movies.

    id watch some if i wasnt so busy.

    last night we celebrated ali’s birthday at kanpai

    the night before i attended the 20th anniversary screening of The Shawshank Redemption and took pictures of morgan freeman and tim robbins and mel brooks and carl reiner among others

    ive been falling asleep on the couch watching tv and holding the kittens.

    their sleeping behavior is contagious.

    which is probably why we dont let them ride in cars with us.

  4. Wednesday, November 19, 2014
  5. Tuesday, November 18, 2014

    The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) 

    grand budapest

    “You see, there are still faint glimmers of civilization left in this barbaric slaughterhouse that was once known as humanity. Indeed that’s what we provide in our own modest, humble, insignificant… Oh, fuck it.”

  6. sometimes the well is dry 

    cobains journalssometimes the place where all the good stuff is fermenting is empty

    the moths are dead at the bottom

    the gnats are long gone

    even the dust has found a better place to settle.

    sometimes you look back in your online web log to see what you were doing 10, 11, 12 years ago and of course you were raising your fist at authority, screaming at the shadows, banging at the door

    dancing in the tournefortia.

    oh to be young and beautiful again. oh to have the adoration of thousands.

    bring be back to the days before facebook and twitter and paypal and instagram.

    back when blogs roamed the earth and ideas flowed as freely as love.

    remember when nba cheerleaders and their sisters would camp out waiting for their favorite blogger to get home from the busstop?

    remember how the southern girls would type letters in their bathtubs, ink smearing, misspelled words typed over with hashtags

    letters sealed with lipstick and drawings, phone calls with drawlings.

    thats where the well is.

    gurgling well well well

    whispering al gore

    is dead

    coughing up dust

    ask the dust

    it’ll tell u

    ask it

  7. i have two cats. one loves me, the other is a cat. 

    this is perfect training for the multiple wives i always feared id have.

    the one who loves me is named Prince and he comes bounding from whereever he is when he hears my door squeak open.

    he snaps awake from a nap and waltzes off the couch when the keys to the front door clatter as i come home from work

    he lets me hold him in any position, he falls asleep in my lap, and he sits on the sink as i shower occasionally leaping off to play soccer with a bottle cap.

    right now he’s licking the head of his stuck up sister, Michael who likes to distance herself from us and judge from afar. as if she’s waiting for her real family to pick her up.

    prince sleeps at night on a pillow next to my bedroom door. michael sleeps in a different place in the house every night. one night atop the fridge. one night on the office chair. one night in the drawer of stock dividends. one night on the fuzzy shower carpet.

    i try to give her as much attention as him because i dont want her to think that her behavior is acceptable. shes a cat. its her job to be cute, play with her brother, and get pet. it is not her job to scratch the tv when she sees something move.

    dont make me blow your minds with the laser pointer dot THAT YOU WILL NEVER CATCH.

    EVER!

    the only time i receive their undivided attention is when i am going through boxes trying to organize my hoarding stash. they will climb into the box they will get thrown across the room onto the couch. they will return in seconds, back in the box.

    thus the only time to do anything productive is when theyre asleep. which is often, but the rustle of anything is music to their ears and they wake, yawn stretch, and eye the mysterious box and jump in it.

    so i walk into the bathroom, they follow, and then i shut them in there. where they stay until ive done whatever task needs done.

    i do love them but do you know what i love even more?

    tidy cat kitty litter.

    normal kitty litter has a chemically ammonia smell, and it causes a mess.

    tidy cat absorbs the liquid and turns it into a cube of hardened piss.

    a pee cube.

    it smells nice, it comes in easy to pour jugs, and the cashier at the supermarket winks at you when you buy them.

    the other day they had a huge sale on them and i bought four jugs

    and i love them even more than i love my cats.

    they dont eat much and they leave me be.

    cant say that about too many things these days.

  8. Monday, November 17, 2014

    really good weekend, super fun ubering, and then resting 

    jeaninebut probably the best thing that happened this weekend was getting to visit Jeanine.

    she is holed up in a secret xbi training center to work on her exhaustion.

    as you know the agency loves to poison us. sometimes they over do it.

    the way i combat it is to eat a ton of junk food. the preservatives and chemicals counteract the weirdness that they subversively give us and it all balances out.

    poor jeanine though eats well, and when the xbi did what they did to her, over years and years, it eventually wore her out.

    a month ago she was taken away and only recently was she able to receive guests and i am very glad to announce that she is doing so well, theres so much more life back in her eyes and heart and spirit. it was an absolute joy to spend an hour with her.

    funny thing about her, you can always tell how she is doing from her hair.

    saturday her hair was silky smooth and happy and bright and sparkling.

    she wanted to tell me all the stories about the other agents she is rehabbing with but i was all, there is no such thing as the xbi

    and for sure there is no such thing as agents who arent at 100%.

    she was all omg, but these people are sooooo fascinating!

    i was like, just tell me about you, what have you learned, what did you go through, how did you like the books i snuck in?

    so we talked and talked and someone recognized me and i said hi and they said you know if you wanted to drive jeanine around for a few minutes i’ll look the other way

    and quickly we hopped into my car and i said so what do you want to eat?

    she said, something healthy

    i said you can have anything in the world and you want an apple? how about some taco bell or jack in the box or a burrito from a truck. and she smiled and said, thats your technique, i like healthy good things. in fact im thinking about being a cook here, full time, like forever.

    it was so sweet. your girl is totally back. in such a short period of time. it was so good. sooooo good. so thank you for your good thoughts. they worked!

  9. Friday, November 14, 2014

    of course sad things happen to me, but 

    tears on my pillowthere was a time when i would write sad things and for a little while i was the sad poetry world champion writer of all time.

    for some reason i thought it was cathartic. or Real. or true.

    inspired by Springsteens “The River” album and song, it was my belief that a real writer expressed his emotions, all of his emotions right out there on the page and blah blah blah.

    but what happened was the darker i wrote the sadder i got and it was a very slipper slope. which is one reason i try not to get too morose on the busblog or negative or angry.

    because really what am i saying when i do that: wahhhh i’m not getting all the things i want in life. waaahhhh i deserve better.

    the truth is im the luckiest bald man in hollywood. i have miraculously good health, i look 10 years younger than i am. i am surrounded with great friends. and i have two fun jobs that i love love love. any little bump in the road is just that: little. move on, whiner.

    yesterday my maid came after 2-3 months of not being here. for a while i had jeanine on my couch and she would clean but it wasnt like maid-clean. then jeanine left and amber broke up with me and i was all f this apartment. let the mess grow!

    which the kittens loved because kittens are basically rats with cuter fur. so they would roll in the ripped open newspaper bags and explore through the mountains of paper bags and hide beneath piles of dirty clothes. and play soccer with dust devils.

    all of that came to an end yesterday after i paid my maid double to unbury me from my crud.

    and it feels glorious.

    and i have almost forgotten the uber ride i made yesterday where i drove 10 minutes to wait 10 minutes to pick up a wealthy man who appeared to be an athlete, so i could drive him THREE BLOCKS so he could get a subway sandwich which he asked me to WAIT for him to get so i could drive him back three blocks to his luxury beverly hills apartment. the total trip on the clock was 15 minutes. but in reality it was 25 minutes of which i made, net, $5.

    pretty sure Uber doesnt read the busblog, which is a shame because i am amazing and my tips are priceless but heres two suggestions for the multi billion dollar company who would prefer that their drivers dont lose their minds and go apeshit on passengers who request such soul sucking trips.

    if a ride is during “surge” as this one was, and it amounts to less than a $10 far, as this one did, Uber should give their commission to the driver as a courtesy including the $1 “safe rider fee”. that way drivers don’t verbally abuse the passenger for being a lazy bastard (which i didnt, but my ESP sure did) and so they don’t quit this unprofitable gig after more and more $6 and $7 rides that account for an increasingly larger portion of our nights and days.

    fortunately i got a longer ride later in the night of three european gents who wanted to talk soccer and baseball the whole time which i reluctantly did, but of course when they asked me why the States isnt into soccer, i replied “big ball, huge net, yawn.”

    install a tip button into the app, Uber.