I started this blog thinking I'd like a public persona seperate from my personal blog (which has become very, very personal in the last few months). I figured the life of a tour guide would be compelling and exotic. Then I spent a few months alternately ignoring the blog or bitching about my boss. You know, like every other blog on earth.

Anyhoo, I figure since I rarely update either blog it'll be better to just put them in one place. If you're interested, friend me over at alexsfink and you can read all about my routine life. I know you've read it before, but I hear you people like familiarity. You find it comforting. You went to see Rocky Balboa's underdog triumph six fucking times.

Anyone in LA have one of those microcasette recorders that you'd lend me? I'm very responsible, despite my extensively sociopathic image.

Okay, I know you won't give it to me. Is there an electironics store that still sells them?

http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-hollywood3feb03,1,6575590.story?coll=la-headlines-california

The force arrests Chewbacca
A Hollywood wookiee impersonator is accused of head-butting a tour guide. A witness: Superman.
By Andrew Blankstein and Bob Pool
Times Staff Writers

February 3, 2007

The buzz on Hollywood Boulevard on Friday was over the Chewbacca who police say crossed over to the dark side in front of hundreds of tourists at Grauman's Chinese Theatre.

LAPD officers arrested "Star Wars" street performer Frederick Evan Young, 44, of Los Angeles in his furry brown wookiee costume Thursday on a charge of misdemeanor battery for allegedly head-butting a tour guide who complained about Young's treatment of two visitors from Japan.

The incident — witnessed by Superman and other impersonators — is the latest clash outside the landmark cinema between visitors and performers dressed as movie and cartoon characters. They collect tips from tourists who pose for pictures and watch them perform in front of the theater, where generations of stars have placed their footprints in concrete.
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South Dakotan tourist:
"Is it safe to walk around on Rodeo drive?"

Face:
"This is Beverly Hills. It's totally safe."

(She gives a look like she doesn't believe him)

Face:
"Trust me, you can walk around naked with a thousand dollars tucked between your butt cheeks."

I've had a lot of fights with my boss. That's what happens when you work for a guy who doesn't even vacuum his restaurant because "it wastes 37 cents each time." We've fought about hours, we've fought about pay, we've been civil and we've shouted, but I think the next fight might be physical.

In October Fu Manchu cut our days from four to three. I made good money this summer, so I could afford it. In November he told us that he was going to pay us about 30% less per day because things were slow. If we did two tours, 70% of normal earnings. If it was busy and we did three then we'd still get regular pay. He promised that it would only last until December 21st, when we'd go back to normal.

The week of Christmas was pretty busy, but on the 24th I only did two tours. Guess how much I got for that day? That's right, the two tour rate. One of my big problems is boundaries, I've let people, and Fu in particular, push me around. I knew I had to address this but wussed out and hoped it was just a mistake. Then I got my pay for the next week. 70%.
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"Whenever I'm asked to participate in a project, I ask myself three
questions:
1) Does the character speak to me?
2) Does the film present a message the world needs to hear?
3) Is the check going to clear?"
-Teri Garr

Been too busy to write, have an actual screenplay in actual development for a guy who might actually reject the script and leave me with nothing. The Garr formula don't apply, son.

Professional screenwriting is the thing I moved out here to do. Spent the weekend in New York. Hung with friends, wandered into wonderful shops and bakeries and bars, dallied with a smart, funny, and cute woman who really, really likes me. As a New Yorker, my job is to go everywhere else on Earth and bitch about how it's just not New York. It's actually very reassuring to return there, be presented with a dozen reasons to stay, and still give it up because the career I want is out here. If I have the will to do that, then I feel like I'll have the will to make it in this tough and reputedly heartbreaking business. It's the business that turned a glorified citrus grove into a metropolitan area of more than 17 million people, I think it's turning me into a man who has hope for his future.

I promise next time I write something here it'll actually be funny.

Saw Borat last night at the Chinese Theater. If you don't already know, I'm a neurotic freak and any hidden camera or prank show makes me panic. It's a reaction related to the "Don't go in there!" horror movie reflex. I had a tough time sitting through the setup for a lot of scenes, but it was worth it.

There was a premiere at the Chinese* two weeks ago today. All day a gigantic Khazkhi flag hung over the theater and the westbound lane of Hollywood Blvd. was shut down during the afternoon. Heading over to a friend's house that night I managed to pull a characteristically brilliant move and forgot about the premiere. I got stuck out front right as Borat arrived in a procession so glibly insane that I would not have attempted to describe it. Until I found it on YouTube. Now you haters will know I'm not lying.

The procession can be glimpsed in the first half of the video below. From my recollection, the order was: grizzled men with Khazakhi flags; peasant women with a cart; men with a cart; children with assault rifles; ladies of the evening; swimmers in over-the-shoulder-thongs; Borat in a stretch Yugo drawn by horses, then carried out to sing his national anthem by what appeared to be Artie Lange in drag. I'm not sure what was on the carts, I was driving and the whole thing was filtered through the gauntlet of photographers.





*I'm omitting the word theater here, because we superhype industry folks just call it 'the Chinese,' as in "I work for pennies driving tourists around the Chinese"

Just saw "The Black Dahlia." I would love to talk to anyone who was neither a tour guide nor whispering through the entire thing with their best friend from high school to see how they dealt with the boredom. I've never seen anything at once so complicated and so bland. And for God's sake, enough already with Scarlett Johannsen.
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Do coyote howl? I just heard something that sounded like a wolf outside.

The first girlfriend I had when I moved to LA lived in Topanga Canyon, a somewhat rural area. Everyone there acts and looks like Woody Nelson. They're the kind of hippies that talk about love and togetherness but will still shoot you if they catch you snooping around their property.

She had buried her cat in the yard. There were more pictures of the cat than her family, she liked to talk about how brilliant and loving it had been. She said she'd tried to keep it indoors but one time it got out and tried to make friends with the coyotes. She found it nearly dead and pretty much dismembered, it died a few minutes later.

I never had pets when I was growing up and it still escapes me that they're treated like part of the family. One night a lot of coyote came out of Topanga preserve, which was just up the hill from her place, and prowled around yipping and growling. If you've never heard the little monsters, I can't think how to describe it except to say that you should imagine Satan and his favorite members of the unholy legions were outside and wanted the world to know they were ravenously hungry. I remarked that, if her cat had tried to make friends with those monsters, maybe it wasn't as smart as she'd thought.

She tried to make me sleep outside with the coyote.