Worst Episode Ever!; December 12, 2002
Welcome to the first official episode of SEASON 4 of West Coast Jeff! I know, I know-you are all pissed because it's been too long. Well, I'm pissed, too. . . so quit you're bitching and listen up!
Sensing that people were getting too comfortable (bored) with
the old format of WCJ, we've re-tooled almost everything you've
come to know and love in order to shake things up a bit.
So, let's review all the changes we've instituted in order to
make The Program more enjoyable for YOU, The
Viewer!
As noted in the last episode (close to fifty years ago), my old apartment is now a senseless victim of "major renovations." This could be because the building wasn't earthquake proof, what with the giant fissures that lined the walls and ceilings. It could also be the way it trapped heat during the day, melting much of the foundation (and killing a cactus Goatee Greg and I had.) It could also be the cute little way the entire building would shake and crumble if anyone dared walk by it. Whatever the reason, my first apartment in California is no more.
In an act of good faith, the new owners of the Beachwood Shitass Apartments negotiated a relocation deal with each tenant in the building. Yes. . .they wanted to pay me to move. Which was fine. . .except for the fact that I HAD TO MOVE!
Anyway, I did most of the negotiating over the phone with a dweeby-lawyer-type named Brent. We reached a deal and I met with Brent one afternoon to sign the papers. . .IN HIS CAR! So, I was even more wary of this "professional business venture." I had Aunt Mary The Blade (see episode #16)on standby in case things went sour.
I pored over each page of the contract, one of which stated that I would get half the amount upon signing the agreement, and would receive the other half when they inspected the apartment after I moved out.
I said "What are you inspecting it for if you'll be tearing it apart?" He said "Oh, we're not inspecting it for damage. . .we're just going to stop by to make sure all your stuff is actually out before we give you the cash."
Being the master negotiator that I am, coupled with the fact that I was still unbelievably pissed off by the fact that I had to move, I said "OH! So I could take a dump in the closet and not have to worry about it?"
I thought, "What? What am I doing? What am I saying? What is WRONG with me?"
Brent, bless his cold, dead little heart, tried to maintain his composure, and some sense of professionalism as we sat in his mobile office. He smiled his best fake-lawyer-smile as he tried to cover up his expression of disgusted bewilderment and said, "Well, sure. I suppose you could."
Embarrassed beyond belief, I decided to move along and quickly sign the papers. My mouth, however, had other ideas. Suddenly, I hear myself announcing, "Oh! Good! So. . .can I write on the contract that you said I could take a dump in the closet?"
OH. MY. GOD.
I quickly signed the pages as he pretended to laugh, probably
convinced that I was in the process of pooping in his car.
Soon, an exhaustive search was underway for a new apartment. Replacing Goatee Greg as "Roommate" is Adam & The Bookbinders! That's right, after visiting the set of WCJ in the Spring, Adam couldn't resist leaving the world of Jersey Radio behind for the world of Syndicated Radio in the greater Los Angeles Area.
Adam and I spent countless hours driving around Los Angeles searching for a new home. Days and days and days we searched, covering probably about a 20 square mile area. Finally we found a fantastic place. . .two F'ing blocks away from my old one. Of course, with Adam's move came a whole new set of problems!
He's been mercilessly sucked into the insanity that permeates WCJ. More than once, he has announced "I was normal until I moved here!" (I, of course, don't believe him for a second, though. . .and neither should you.)
Anyway, with this new apartment comes a new pledge: No more disease-ridden furniture. Between the chlamydia futon, the rash-couch and the kitchen chairs that flung people through windows, we've had quite enough. WCJ finally has a bigger, better Movin-On-Up-To-The-East-Side kind of apartment, complete with a fitness center, two pools (one heated all year round), ping-pong table, pool table, sauna and, best of all, a manager named Boo.
Boo is a vibrant semi-senior citizen who is the perfect combination of Rose and Blanche from the Golden Girls. She's a good-natured gal who loves to tell endless stories. Sometimes she makes you want to scream, "Hi, Crazy!!" but deep down, everyone loves Boo. . .especially the men she goes out and parties with nearly every night.
There have been more than a few occasions when I'll go into her office,and she will look like hell shat on her. I'll ask, "Boo? Are you feeling alright?" She'll often explain in her shaky, sweet voice, "I was out till 4AM last night." Then, as I look at her, fighting off the urge to call her a whore right to her face, she'll continue "I was out having dinner, then wound up at a bar, and. . ." All of her stories start off this way, their endings are always different, though. A typical one concludes: ". . .this drunk guy was hitting on me outside the bar. He was sitting on a wall, and trying to get me to come home with him. But I kept saying 'No way!'. Finally, he fell off the wall and I just kept on walking."
Boo also likes to go to a place for breakfast around here that serves Khalua Pancakes, which might explain why she always sounds drunk. For example, check out this message Boo left, presumably during one of her Khalua-pancake breakfast benders: http://www.pond.com/~uhjeff/boo.html
Despite this message, Boo has since resigned to calling me John whenever she communicates via notes or telephone. When she sees me, she knows I am Jeff, but for some reason, when I am not near her, I become another one of her Johns.
Boo also tricks Adam & I into going to dinner with her sometimes. It's random and hilarious, but it can also be dangerous, as Boo herself is quick to point out. Once, while we were trying to figure out the bill, Boo declared, "I'm not a calculator. I'm a calculated risk!"
Another risk is our New Crazy Neighbor, Joe, The Mo From Down The Hall, Yo. (The title of Wacky Neighbor still does and always will belong to Wacky Tony.)
Joe The Mo's main function on the set of WCJ seems to be to try and eliminate me and Adam & The Bookbinders. Joe's behavior causes much frustration to Boo, who loves us (despite thinking that I'm West Coast John).
Joe the Mo decided to take Adam & I hiking one day soon after we moved in. Little did we know that Joe's definition of "Hiking" is "Attempting to murder my new friends by taking them on a field trip to Death." Also unbeknownst to us, Joe's definition of "Path" is "A less-than-or-equal-to one-foot-wide clearing, conveniently located directly next to a drop roughly the same height as the Continental Shelf."
Joe neglected to give us the Joe The Mo Lingo Guide, which, in addition to the entries above, also included the following selections . . .all of which were too late to be of any use:
'Fun!' -- attempted murder.
'Relaxing' -- So stressful it will make you want to obliterate me. But, I won't have to worry because any sudden movements will cause the 'path' to give way, plunging you directly into my lair at the core of the earth, where I, The Evil Leader shall release you of your SOULS! MWAH HA HA HA! I OWN YOU!!!
So, when Joe The Mo said "Let's Go HIKING! It'll be FUN and RELAXING!! Look! Here's a PATH!!" Adam and I had no idea what we were in for. Joe didn't mention that we'd be climbing on cliffs that are lovingly placed at 80 degree angles. My year-old shoes and I were not happy. I would have gotten more traction wearing rollerblades covered in WD40. At least I would have broken my neck early on and gotten it over with, instead of being tortured for two hours as the vultures circled overhead, just waiting for us to plunge to a violent, bloody death.
My favorite was when Joe said "THIS IS THE WORST PART!" Which, according to the Mo To English Unabridged Dictionary actually translates to "This is the worst part SO FAR. It is sure to get even scarier in about ten minutes. You may even poop yourself!!"
I charged Joe with attempted murder (not to mention trying to make me poop somewhere besides the closet at my old apartment) and temporarily placed him In Jail. A Fake Jail that I invented. Basically, the only difference between being In Jail and being Out Of Jail is my repeatedly announcing to you and whoever will listen that you are In Jail.
Joe didn't like Jail, and would often argue that he wasn't actually In Jail. I would deny his denial and say "Yes, Joe. You are In Jail," sometimes while pointing. Then he would get even angrier over being upset in the first place for being placed in a Fictitious Jail. (He hasn't quite figured out that I can not and will not be reasoned with.)
Either way, Joe's murderous rage has been, at least temporarily, put aside because he is afraid of WCJail.
Speaking of jail, I get to be anally raped on a daily basis at my current job! In what will go down in history as one of the WORST career moves since Shelley Long left Cheers to work in feature films, I left The Osbournes this season to take a job as an Associate Producer on a new daytime talk show starring Wayne Brady.
In a classic case of "It seemed like a good idea at the time," my boss from The Osbournes said that I should take this job instead of being his assistant. "You've got bills to pay! It's a LOT more money!!" Actually, everyone said that it would be good for my career! "Associate Producer," they shouted,"WOW!"
Now I am dead inside. To quote Charles Dickens, "It was the worst of times, it was the worst of times." (well. . .that WOULD have been the quote if he had spent any time in our office.)
But. . .there is A Light At The End of the Tunnel! And this time, it isn't a train. I'm scheduled to start a NEW JOB next week, just in time for Christmas!!
Yes, I've quit the Wayne Brady Show! (And I only had to do it once, unlike The Wor.St. Awards.) I got a seriously insane job offer which will take me back to my home at The Osbournes. . .this time as a Story Editor!(Basically. . .the equivalent of a writer on a Reality Show!) I feel like Pete Rose, about to get reinstated to Major League Baseball after a lifetime ban.
As much as I adore Wayne. . .I hate my job. A lot. The new job means that I'll have more time to actually HAVE A LIFE and welcome visitors to The New Landof WCJ!
We had our first guest earlier this year in the form of Toni Sitoy. This is a big deal because she is usually the last to know everything, yet somehow became the first person to see our new set! She came to visit Adam & I soon after we settled in, and she brought a gift: The Toni Sitoy Commemorative AerobedT.
Coincidentally, this summer, Sitoy scored another coup by being the first person (besides my stupid sister, StupiDonna) to see my tattoo-mere HOURS after I got it! Sitoy stopped by my parent's house to pick me up, and while she was there decided to use the potty. While up there, she spotted the "How To Care For Your New Unnamed Tattoo" pamphlet that I left so carelessly laying around in Tina & Ralph's bathroom (who were intentionally kept in the dark about it). Luckily, Sitoy pocketed the item and inquired about it when my 'rents left. Of course, she, like everyone else, thought the thing was fake.
Some of my favorite reactions over the past few months:
But, I assure you all. . .He is Real! And he's UNNAMED! But not for long!
And so, it is with almost orgasmic pleasure that I present to you THE TOP 15 NAMES Submitted By The WCJ Family Of Readers. . .check them out at http://www.pond.com/~uhjeff/finalists.html
With that, I shall wrap up this long and most aggravating episode of WCJ. I'll be back soon (HONEST) with the WCJ Christmas Featurette, including an all-new Holiday Edition of Kevin's Korner, and the story of how my dad, Ralph, somehow managed to go and have himself a heart attack while IN the hospital. (He's FINE!!! No need to panic.) Next time, I'll also be telling the story of this year's Halloween trauma!
In the meantime, enjoy selected scenes from WCJ pals Dave
& Tracie's wedding, which had an unusual (but quite
lovely) "Prom Theme," in this issue's Last Thousand
Words.
www.pond.com/~uhjeff/wedding.html
Don't forget to check out www.westcoastjeff.com
!
Drop me a line at UHJeff@westcoastjeff.com
!
Okbye.
--Jeff (UHJeff@westcoastjeff.com)
