Hey there my little funky cold medinas!
Hope everyone is livin' large on this fine Sunday. I don't know what the weather is wherever it is that may be be dwelling at present but it is hot as hell here in LaLa Land! It's not Africa hot but definitely hot enough to do a little crotch pot cookin'.
I was invited to go to Disneyland with some friends of mine (as opposed to say some random stranger on the street saying, "Hey dude! Wanna go to Disneyland?") but I couldn't even pretend to be interested. The crowds, the heat, the..., the..., the crowds, the heat. Last thing I need is to pay a small fortune to be around a bunch of sweaty strangers all up in my grill, making me wish I was living in the future and packing a hidden arsenal of retroactive birth control sprays that I could use at my own discretion. Plus, I was a mascot for the Super Bowl many years ago (Dallas Cowboy in case you were curious) and my heart would break at the thought of how friggin' miserable every one of those minimum wage earning plushie freaks pretending to be Mickey, Goofy, Daisy, or the ambiguously gay chipmunks, Chip 'N' Dale must be. And they can't even talk. They can't scream. They can't whisper to a passer-by "If I don't get out of this fucking fur coat in the next 2 seconds I'm going to drop kick the next brat that pulls on my tale or tries to stick their pretzel in my my mouth." Especially Chip 'N' Dale who just want to be poolside with their daiquiris or in their air conditioned tree watching America's Next Top Chipmunk. My point is it's hot.
Speaking of hot, I had a blast yesterday working with that firecracker of a funny lady, Julie Brown. It was more fun than I've had on set in a long time. No offense, Mr. Cameron. What a great reminder of how fun it is to just pick up a camera and do something on your own. I forgot how much fun we all used to have doing Strip Mall for Comedy Central back in the day.

Random Thought: Pablo Picasso had a difficult birth. When he finally popped out after a long
labor, he wasn't breathing. The midwife decided his face was so blue he'd
be impossible to revive. She declared him dead and left. But Picasso's
uncle, who was in attendance, got up close to the infant and puffed cigar
smoke up his nose. The shock brought him back to life.

I don't know what that has to do with the price of tea in China but I like it. Speaking of China (how's that for a segue, boys and girls?), What is up with the Olympic torch? Enough already. Yes, I like the pomp and circumstance of the Olympics and I love a good show of tradition as much as the next guy but can we just call it quits already. China sucks for not freeing Tibet or doing something about Darfur. But putting the flame out as some random runner jogs by with the torch will not automatically free Tibet. If you want to make a statement leave the torch alone and instead refuse to buy another single thing that comes from China. Go ahead. Try it. It's like giving up sugar. Once you try you realize that shit is EVERYWHERE. Also, since we are talking torch here, does anyone realize what a huge carbon footprint that giant match is leaving on its long trek home. It has teams of security with a fleet of cars, its own jet, its own hotel rooms, boats, buses, vans, food for all the personnel, the news vans, helicopters, etc. that are tracking its progress. Give me a break. Let's just e-mail a picture of the thing around the world and call it a day.

Random Thought #2: The U.S. Labor Department periodically analyzes the volunteer work done by Americans. In one report, it estimated that between September 2001 and September 2002, 59 million people offered their services free of charge as they mentored, tutored, built affordable housing, cleaned up the environment, and helped respond to community emergencies. The average contribution per person for the year was 52 hours. (Source:
Associated Press)

Way to go volunteer type peoples! Keep up the good work. Everybody now!
Until next time.... be groovy... be kind... be freaky... be yourself!
Peace!