WEEKEND RECAP
Friday
After a particularly trying workweek for me and Meep, we decided to have a relaxing and quiet-ish evening at the Canterbury. We started out just the two of us and whiled away the time by outlining our new web series “America's Next Judge Reinhold”. I'll just let that sink in.
After a while, Sherwood showed up and later Borgia and Dom. Sherwood was already drunk and ended up leaving early. Around 11:00, we tired of the Canterbury and decided to try our luck with an adventure elsewhere (sans Dom who had to get up at 5am the next morning for a shoot). We paid our bill, leaving one of my remaining New Kids on the Block trading cards along with the tip. (I bought a pack at Archie McPhee's and have been leaving them all over town. The response is surprisingly positive). Anywho, once outside, we were at a loss for where to go. Nowhere on the Hill seemed to temp us. Finally, I remembered one of the places Faye and I have always wanted to go: 13 Coins. How can one NOT be seduced by a dodgy sign on the side of a major road with an arrow pointing to seemingly nowhere that boasts “24 hour dining and lounge”. So we hopped in Borgia's car and headed down there. When we finally turned down the right street and feasted our eyes on the green awning for the first time, we had mixed feelings. We couldn't really see inside and so whatever was on the other side of the door was going to be a surprise. To our shock, it was POSH inside. We went into the lounge which looked like Gentlemen's Club (but with ladies inside and no one wearing robes). We took a gander at the menu and found everything to be overpriced. Not what we expected at all. (And kind of not what I'd hoped. It was no Great American Dive Bar). But with 13 coins shellacked into the table, a mosaic ship lamp in the corner, and menthol cigarettes on the menu, everything checked out. We had one beer and called it a night. My curiosity is now sated and I can check 13 Coins off the list.
Saturday
I went to the noon yoga class and was happy to discover that the slow-talker wasn't teaching. When I got home, I felt pretty good. I had way more energy that I usually have after the 4:00 Sunday class. I think I will start trying to go to Saturday noon more often. SOOOOOO, after a shower and a small lunch, I met Faye to go to Value Village. We were costume shopping for “Retard to Retard” which we are shooting next weekend, right before the Earth opens up and swallows us. After that, we relaxed for a little while and met BennDunn for dinner at the Red Line. After having an orgasmic sandwich there a couple of months ago, I have been bugging Faye to go back there with me. (Actually, I've been bugging everybody, but she was the first one I could talk into going). The sandwich actually wasn't as orgasmic as the last time but it was still good. And a cool crisp beer is just what I needed to wash it down. Then we headed down to the Crocodile for the comedy stylings of Eugene Mirman. (If you visit his website, make sure you are on a computer with speakers). The opening act was the most ADORABLE cross between Chuck Barris and Cat Stevens. His name is Langhorn Slim and he's a 23 year old bluegrass prodigy. He plays guitar like the devil is after him. He dances around and sings songs about heartbreak like only a literate 23-year-old prodigy can. I think Faye and I were utterly smitten after about the second song. It's funny. I went in there all jaded and skeptical, ready to hate whatever he was about to play. I have been so displeased with new music lately. But when he started playing, I could actually feel my cold, dead heart melt and turn into ice cream and puppies. Buy his album. You won't regret it.
After Chucky Baby played, it was Ron Lynch from Home Movies. When Faye and I first got tickets, Brendon Small was on the bill. But according to his website, he done got busy. So we got Ron Lynch instead. It turned out great because my face hurt from laughing long before Eugene even hit the stage. Holy crap. The man is funny. I especially enjoyed his character bit in which he is a comedian who's suffered a nail gun injury. He stands on stage with a bandage on his head and just stares straight ahead. Meanwhile, on his lap top, his bit is played through a Stephen-Hawking-style voice generator. Effed up. And awesome.
Then Eugene came on and was even better than the first time we saw him with Stella so long ago. The best part was when he played a real recorded phone conversation between him and a Christian phone company that tries to get you to switch to their service by telling you that other phone companies support gay marriage. He totally takes the piss and they have NO IDEA. It's AMAZING to me how few Christians seem to have a sense of irony. Particularly the ones who say “ya'll”. Buy HIS album too.
After the gig, we drank some more and played a new game we made up wherein we decide which filmmakers, actors and films should be awarded “hacks”. As an example, Eli Roth gets 5 hacks. Were “Cabin Fever” not so over-hyped as being so extremely edgy and violent (which it isn't), we may have been less harsh. Kevin Smith gets 4 hacks. The only reason he doesn't get 5 is because of “Mallrats” which is entertaining enough. “Ferris Bueler's Day Off” gets 5 hacks because it turns out the character of Ferris Bueler is not endearing but rather a mooching, manipulative arsehole. Now you play!
Faye and I started craving some nachos from Shorty's so we popped over there for a Nacho Nightcap. BennDunn snapped some very compromising photos of Faye and I deep-throating a veggie dog. Hopefully they will never see the light of day. Ordinarily, we're all for amusingly inappropriate photos, but these didn't turn out that way. I can't explain why but they really do look disgusting and wrong. Horribly horribly wrong.
Sunday
I really DO love not having the pressure of 4:00 yoga hanging over me. It was very liberating. I went to the grocery store, tidied up a bit and watched a TON of tv. Delightful. I also happened to catch the end of “Pretty in Pink” on TV. And once again I realised that a film I found enjoyable as a kid is actually a huge load of crap. So at the end, the beloved Ducky, who is in love with Andie, “lets her go” be with Andrew McCarthy because he's such a nice guy. Aw. Poor Ducky. I bet this is going to be awful for him. Unrequited love is horrible. But wait a second…who's that young thing making eyes at him from across the dance floor? I don't know but she's hot! Andie who? And with that, all of the reason for us to care about him goes out the window. If they had only played it out a little bit different. Maybe if Ducky had flopped his sad ass down in a chair and the cute girl came over to find out what was wrong. She sits down and starts talking to him. He's still sad, but there is a hint that this young chicklet might help him get over it soon. But no, they had to go for the instantaneous erasing of any open-endedness. NO ONE CAN BE SAD. This is John Hughes' world. No one is allowed to have more than three emotions and CERTAINLY no one can go into the fade-to-black with unresolved issues. John Hughes, I give you 5 hacks.
Later, Faye and I went to the Mercury which, once a month, hosts a neat little shindig that's open to everybody. They have video games, music, drinks and legos! On this particular night, they were showing our movie so we went to introduce it. It was a great crowd and despite the fact that the sound and picture were AWFUL on their system, the audience was really receptive. Our movie didn't go on until 11 so we didn't get home until after midnight but it was worth it, I think.
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