California.

Recently came to the conclusion that I made more money in LA. As a shit freelance writer who comes by paydays mostly by writing ad copy, I made more money in LA than I can make in Texas. And not just a little bit more….on the whole, around $1200/month more. Shit you not. Even with the cost of living difference that’s huge. I was never scrounging for money there. I had enough for everything I needed. Perhaps not everything I wanted, but I did have everything that qualified as a need. (Rent, food, gas, cigarettes and medical marijuana. Fuck off, I have a chronic pain condition {SUPERFoot}, and it is a genuine need. I can function on weed, can’t function on vicodin, doubled over in pain on nothing…..so you give me a solution if you’re so self-righteous about someone smoking a lil pot!!)

Back to the point, I was not only surviving, but had moments of enjoyment and on the whole could say that the majority of my complaints about LA could be repaired with the minor detail of owning a car. Which I now do…..

The only thing that I can’t coincide with being happy is that I am a fatty. I am. I wear a size 12….and while that is certainly not what I used to be, (lost 70 pounds since last May), I am still on the..well… largess side of life. When I was in LA, I noted that I couldn’t wait to be back in a world where a size 12 was more the norm and less the exception…except I came back home to find that people here are not only less accepting of me as I am, but indeed more hateful than in sunny Southern Fucking California.

I have been called fat more times than I can count here yet, when I was in LA, it was a rarity. I’ve had my fair share of dalliances with rather important men….OUTSIDE OF THE DFW AREA, but in it, quite frankly I am treated like pig vomit. I don’t get it. Even thin Texas chicks have beer guts, so why the high and mighty attitude from it’s men?

In Los Angeles, a thin chick isn’t “thin” if she has even the slightest pouch,and is treated like a slit to fuck, yet thicker chicks are treated with dignity, respect…you know, like a human fucking being….with the occasional asshole making mention of the fact that you live in LA…’maybe act like it’. Here, being fat is a fucking crime and everyone who notices you apparently has the right to cite you for it. What the fuck?

AT least in LA, the people who are judgy as fuck are admittedly assholes. Here they just parade around as though they are civilized individuals. I guess the point of this rant…I’m going broke with my career path in Texas and my self-esteem has been shot dealing with the “single” life here. I’m going back to California where at least people don’t pretend to be something they’re not.

I know how to spot and avoid a pretentious asshole. I can’t say that I am able to spot a pretentious asshole who is pretending to be a gentleman only to crush you with their words later….

 

 

 

 

My iPhone.

I struggled and waited for this thing forever. My hand-me-down iPhone. I’ve been on contract with At&t, Cingular, Southwestern Bell Wireless, whatever the fuck they want to call themselves since I was 15 years old. Since my first Nokia cell phone that my parents got me when I got my hardship license to my current contract, it’s been a long 12 years….so I was trying like hell to wait it out and not just upgrade, (still on contract til motherfucking April btw!), and just patiently wait for my iPhone to arrive to me in California. 7 states and about 6 months after my mom originally sent the damn thing.

I made a vow not to spend a cent in the App Store. 5 months later, not a cent spent. In all truth, the various apps that give you pennies for checking into places and tweeting things have paid for my Netflix account for the past six months….

But I think I’m about to cave. And cave hard. Sohelpmegod, I’ve had it with the ads in Words with Friends… Had. It. They crash my phone after every single play and I’m done.

Oh…and if you were curious, yes, this has been a blog post about essentially nothing. I’ve got loads of things I want to say, but fuck all, I’m not sure I’m ready to say them. Also, needed to kill a few minutes in a way that made me feel productive whilst waiting for booze to chill. So there’s that.

>The Scott Caan. The Look, not The Person.

In honor of Mr. Caan’s birthday today, re-posting one of my favorite posts. Also one of the most popular for some reason. Happy Birthday Scott, may you learn the benefits of a buttoned up shirt in your more mature years. ;-p

While discussing the general douchebaggery exhibited by large quantities of dudes in Hollywood, a pattern was noticed. And a source for the pattern realized as well.

Look at this picture and tell me what you see….

Aside from the junior Caan in it, you will notice that his shirt is open “just so”. After meeting so many of the lovely gents out here in Hollywood, that is a signal. As much as Mike Tyson’s eye tattoo tells chickies to stay the fuck away, your life may very well depend on it….the “Scott Caan” tells chickies that this dude is an arrogant, self-absorbed kind of guy.

The kind of guy that starts off his reply to you on a dating site, something like this:

“Hey! I saw your profile and thought we might make a connection. I’m an athletic guy, love to spend my free time outdoors, and have a great sense of humor…..”

Aside from his notions about letting you know his favorite way to keep that chest looking good enough to leave the shirt open, those are all things that one should not be using to describe themselves. Perhaps, even determinations that one should make on one’s own about someone. I digress.

Back to the original point, never trust a dude who can’t seem to figure out how to work that top button.

(Also, I feel it needs to be said, I actually am a Scott Caan fan. He wrote and directed the 2006 flick starring Giovanni Ribisi, it was in short, a story about a writer whose therapist recommends getting a dog as a fix when he can’t afford therapy any longer. Well written, well played & overall an “-“indie”-” that does get into my top ten list. But still, button your shirt up, damn it!)

Covert Affairs covertly undermines women.

I am a huge fan of USA’s original programming. I am. I adore most of the shows and even those that I’m not too keen on, I still do find myself watching late at night when their reruns coincide with my insomnia….even Covert Affairs.

Something that has bugged me since the first episode though is that the lead, played by Piper Perabo, just can’t seem to keep herself out of playing the damsel in distress role. In short, she, (as well as pretty much all of the other female characters in the show), really can’t handle herself in the field. She basically sucks at her job…and her ass is always saved by the big, strong man.

Perhaps the hardest thing for me to swallow in all of this is the character portrayed by Anne Dudek. She plays the sister of Piper’s character Annie. I’ve always seen her cast in these strong female roles, cutthroat Bitch in House…and even on Big Love she was devious as fuck….but on this show…she is none of that. They write her as completely naive and it comes off horribly. I just can’t buy that she is that ignorant of what happens around her…sorry. No can do.

Back to the original point, it feels like every episode I catch, I’m not really surprised when Annie gets caught/lost/loses an asset. I just kind of expect it to happen every week….and then I expect to see Sendhil or the lovely Oded Fehr to come in and rescue her….I mean, sure, it’s a cute show, but does it really do ANYTHING for the female gender?