Since the last episode--many great feats were accomplished
(Including a decade-old life quest!)
First off, Goatee Greg safely arrived and has
officially joined the cast of West Coast Jeff.
When asked to issue a statement to his public, he persisted
"I don't really levitate."
But people, please--who are you going to believe? Me--your
trusted friend for years, or a guy who sleeps with his eyes
open? There have been no instances of levitation as of yet,
but I'm sure once he becomes accustomed to his surroundings,
he'll be ok.
The official kickoff to "Greg and Jeff's Summer
of Fun" was the Sunday after he arrived...Los
Angeles held a huge parade marking the occassion. OK,
actually, it was the Gay Pride Parade. But we went anyway,
looking forward to one thing and one thing only:
A float with a magical Giant Ass that blows bubbles.
After getting sunburnt during the festivities (Which
included, but were not limited to: Dykes on Bikes, colorful
locals with no pants on, and all the free condoms and lube you
ever could have hoped for) we went back to our apartment and took
a nap, trying to make sense of what we had seen. By the
way...while there were plenty of giant asses there, the Giant
Ass-Float was a no-show, disappointing all and creating a rucuss.
The looting you all heard so much about wasn't from the Lakers'
win, but from the non-presence of the Giant Ass & It's Bubble
Friends! That's why you should never get your news from any
other source but Jeff!(TM)
And now, more business as usual.
Let's see--the obligatory Post Office Episode
of the we-mail:
I was in that hole known as the Hollywood Station Post Office
just before Greg's arrival. When I walked in, I surveyed
the weary crowd in line and noted duly that FatGayle
was NOT working! I rejoiced! My heart danced...but
the feeling was fleeting. Just as I was about to break into
song, a man approached from behind and asked:
"Are you in The Nixons?"
Me: "Excuse me?"
It: "Are you in that band The Nixons?"
Me (incredulous) "UmmmNO. Why would you ask
that?"
It: "Because you're wearing a shirt that says The
Nixons on it."
Let it be known at this point that I was wearing an old 97.5 PST
concert T-shirt from about 4 years ago...and one of the bands at
this show was, in fact, the Nixons. I wear PST shirts quite
often because I accumulated about a dozen of them while I worked
there. Moving on:
Me: "Oh...no, I used to work at a radio station and
they sponsored this concert..."
It: (cutting me off) "Oh! Which one!?" At
which point he began to name every radio station that has ever
existed on the entire West Coast.
Me: "No. No. No....it was in New Jersey,
actually"
It: "OH!" At this point, he began to name
every radio station that has ever existed in the New York area,
including WDRE.
Me: "Ummmno" Thinking: "If you're
going to read someone's shirt...try and PAY
ATTENTION." as I'm pointing indignantly at the PST
logo. This is the equivalent of hollering at a novelist for
leaving loose ends when you haven't read beyond the 2nd chapter
of their book.
After this, he started yelling about how Pasadena is filled with
negative energy and how dance music from five years ago is just
getting popular now,how he doesn't understand why, and how he
wants me to visit Oregon someday, how when he's in LA he can't
help but feel like he's going to be murdered here, (which
actually almost happened while we were in line as I tried to
ignore him to death), etc.
This went on for FORTY FIVE MINUTES when suddenly, in the middle
of one of his rants, I was called to a window. He tried to
end with a "nice meeting you," but I was too busy
licking the postal worker for saving me. She was
unappreciative, but compassionate.
Then, another terrifying situation occurred mere days later...in
my own home. Those of you with small children or weak
stomachs should turn away.
I now present the story of "My Mom, My Neighbor, and a
Buttplug."
I was washing dishes one fine Tuesday evening when my poor mom
called because she loves and misses me (the fool!) So while
on the phone with her, Tony the Wacky Neighbor
wanders into my apartment squealing about a script he just
got. You see...hot off the heels of his Friends
debut, he's been getting a bunch of auditions. "I just
HAVE to read you this one part...really quickly." So,
I say to my poor mom, "Hang on one sec."
Tony proceeds to set up the scene--it's got two gay characters
and they are on their way to a straight bar. They are
trying to come up with a code-word that if one of them hears the
other one say, then they will agree to leave. His friend
says "How about shazam?" And Tony
says..."Shazam? That's too hard to work into a
conversation. How about buttplug?" And before I
know it, Tony is actually IN the scene saying that they've pulled
up and the bar has sports memorabilia all over it and he begins
yelling, "OHmygod! This place is a breeder's paradise!
BUTTPLUG!! BUTTPLUG!!" Just then, my poor mom says
"Honey--if you've got company, I'll let you go..." and
I'm saying "Ohmygod, hold on just one more second,
mom."
Tony stops yelling "Buttplug!" long enough to allow
what I said to sink in and says, sheepishly,
"Ohmygod--is that really your MOM?"
"Yes. Yes it is."
And, for the first time ever...Tony fell silent. He
whispered "I think it's time for me to go," hung his
head in shame and left the apartment.
My poor mom. As I typed this story, I realized that if my
life ever becomes a Broadway Musical--the big hit song would have
to be "Buttplug!" Compete with a "Buttplug!
(Reprise)" at the end. Soundtrack available soon on JK
Rekords.
Back to Buttplug night: A few moments later, once I
convinced Tina that all was well, I flipped on the television to
find the One and Only Episode of Seinfeld that I had never
seen! Exactly 9 years and 4 months after its network
television debut, I finally saw (and taped) Seinfeld Episode
#8: "The Suede Jacket," thus accomplishing a life
goal. My mom, realizing itwas probably a mistake to have
called at all that evening, decided to letme go while she left to
reflect upon the evening's antics with my Dad.
One final note, last weekend was Jeff's Tour of Celebrity
Homes! Friday, I was forced to go to Harry
Anderson's house for the Discovery Channel show I am
working on. (Airdates to come).
Let it be known: He has a HUGE house and an equally HUGE
dog. It was like Snuffleupagus!
The dog was easily 5 feet tall--standing on all fours. I
can't even tell you how giant it was.
On Sunday--The whirlwind tour of Celebrity Homes continued with
my first visit to Weird Al's house to drop off
his fan mail. Al's house was filled with boxes as he is
moving a lot of his junk into storage, so there was to be no tour
this time. However, what I saw was very nice--a little smaller
and browner than I had envisioned, but was still cool.
So those are the major events that happened recently.
You're all pretty much up to date.
To cover the cost of these e-mails, please visit my newest
sponsor: KIWI DOG FOOD
http://www.kottke.org/plus/misc/kiwi_dogfood.html
(Trust me)
Coming up in the next episode (give me a few days):
"I Left My Feet in San Francisco--A Blair Witch
Road Trip Weekend Event"
starring Jean "Prancing Pony" Lonie, Goatee
Greg & Matt (Greg's brother)....and
a cast of a thousand weirdos.
Stay Fresh! Hope you are all well!
--Jeff