I Heart Crazy People: Lindsay Lohan

This is your brain.

This is your brain on crack rock and dance clubs.

Lindsay Lohan—Do you remember when curvalicious Lindsey was in Mean Girls, all funny and radiating the hotness, before she went on the starvation diet? Those were the days. The days before she started doing movies where she plays the most freckled stripper in history, looking like she’s been dipped in Elmer’s glue and showered with seed ticks.

Now poor Lindsay is into more illegal activities, and I don’t mean stealing teenage boys’ hearts (come on, admit it, you’re snickering at that one). She’s been arrested for driving under the influence, possession of cocaine, transporting a narcotic into a custody facility and driving on a suspended license. (I particularly like the drug smuggling into rehab charge. How bad off do you have to be to sneak drugs into detox? Even the lovechild of Robert Downey Jr. and Tara Reid thinks that’s messed up.)


And now, in another excellent (and when I say excellent, I mean excellent like, “Excellent, I just drove a nail through my retina) example of good decision making, she is being sued for assault and negligence.


In case you haven’t kept up with this story (and good for if you haven’t), here’s the report from TMZ.com. My comments are in parentheses:
Dante Nigro, Jakon Sutter and Ronnie Blake drove to Malibu with the boyfriend of Lindsay Lohan's assistant. Lindsay and her assistant ran into Dante and friends. Later, the assistant text-messaged Dante, saying Lindsay wanted to invite him to a Malibu party that night.


Later, Dante says, he and his friends drove to the party. Dante and the assistant's boyfriend were let in, but Jakon and Ronnie were rejected and stayed outside. Dante says Lindsay was never without a drink during the evening and he even did a shot with her.

At one point, Lindsay's assistant and her boyfriend walked outside and got into an argument. Lindsay came out and got angry at her assistant. The assistant then said, "I quit," which enraged Lindsay. Dante and crew were ready to leave. The GMC Denali they were in belonged to Dante, but he was sitting in the front passenger seat. Ronnie and Jakon were in the back seat. The assistant's boyfriend was behind the wheel. The keys were in the ignition when the assistant's boyfriend got out and continued the argument with his girlfriend. The assistant then got in her car and left.

According to the group, Lindsay suddenly jumped in the driver's seat of the Denali, started the engine and began driving -- chasing the assistant's car. Ronnie says he was so fearful, he jumped out of the vehicle as it accelerated. Just as he hit the ground, he says Lindsay ran over his foot and just kept going.


(Of course she didn’t stop. No goal oriented person would stop just because they hit ANOTHER HUMAN with a car. I like this girl. She’s driven. Pun intended.)

Dante and Jakon say Lindsay then hit Pacific Coast Highway in Malibu. Dante says he tried to grab the wheel, prompting Lindsay to say, "If you touch me I'll sue you." Jakon says they pleaded with her to stop.

(So if you want a car all you have to do is carjack it, and then threaten to sue them if they touch you? The next time that BMW 3 series comes down my street, they’re in for a surprise. They’re so much I can learn from this girl.)

Dante says they were going 100 mph. They say Lindsay caught up with the assistant and began doing circles on PCH, around the assistant's car.

(She did circles people! Like a gang of Hell’s angels closing in on a lost tourist, she did circles! Like an angry pirate looping a ship he plans to commandeer for booty and riches, she did circles! THAT is how you motivate people to see things your way. The next time I ask a girl out on a date, I’m going to get in my He-Man cozy coupe, the one with tassels at the end of the plastic handle bars, and peddle as hard as I can until they’re scared into saying yes.)

They say at one point, Lindsay boasted, "I can't get in trouble. I'm a celebrity. I can do whatever the f*** I want."

(No argument there. As soon as I get a book deal I’m going to O’Charley’s and ask for extra salad dressing even when I’m 99% sure I won’t need it. And I’m not even going to feel bad, because I’ll be a celebrity.)

The now former assistant finally lost Lindsay on PCH. Dante says Lindsay thought the assistant was going to her mother's house in Santa Monica so Lindsay went there. It just so happened that the assistant's mother was pulling into the driveway as Lindsay arrived.Dante says the mother panicked at Lindsay's crazy driving, and backed out of the driveway in fear -- not knowing who was behind the wheel. The guys say Lindsay then began to chase her at speeds of up to 80 mph through Santa Monica, blowing multiple red lights.

(Apparently, Disney teaches NASCAR driving techniques to all their young talent. I hear Christina Aguilera is running in Daytona next year.)

Dante realized the mother was driving to the police station and the two cars stopped in a parking lot near the cop shop. When police arrived, Dante says it seemed as if Lindsay told officers, "I wasn't driving. The black kid was driving."

(The Los Angeles PD believed her and immediately beat the “black kid” to a pulp.)

(Yes, I made that last part up.)

Two other quick notes about Lindsay. She also sings. Well, she makes semi-mammalian noises into a microphone. How to describe this...get a rock and crush your own larynx. Then, down a shot of sulfuric acid. Begin mating with a whale, and finally, put on your headphones and sing along to a Celine Dion power ballad. That’s it. That’s her sound.

Now if this were any other singer, that would be crazy enough. But no, not her, she ups the ante. She sang the title track for her movie Herbie: Fully Loaded (and he probably was if she was in the car).

Do you know the chorus? The chorus for the theme song to a children’s movie? I know it because she says it ad nauseum in the music video, as she she thrusts and juts and generally copulates with her microphone stand. The song’s called first.

Here’s the hook:

Don't wanna be like

Every other girl in the world

Like every other one who wants you

Cuz when I see you something inside me burns

Then I realize I wanna come first

I wanna come first

This is me easing back from the keyboard. Some jokes just tell themselves. I...I have nothing else to say. I’d be crazy to say anything. Just like her.

I Heart Crazy People: Kanye West

As I was baking another double batch of spicy cheese biscuits (because that’s what nobody-writers do on a Thursday morning), I began to question my own sanity. I found myself smiling at the thought that I might be a little off in the noggin. Why would I smile? Then I realized, I have a genuine affinity for insanity. I don’t mean fake crazy, like Ann Coulter or Rosie O’Donnell.

And I don't mean the hobo on the street muttering about the hordes of robotic wasps buzzing about his head. (By the way, just give them cash. Yes, they’re going to buy liquor. I’m shocked and appalled. A homeless person with a drinking problem, who knew? But honestly, if you lived in a cardboard box that was insulated by your own excrement, what would you want? The answer is not a roast beef sandwich from Arby’s. Unless you were low on insulation.)

This isn’t any of the Jackass guys, either, drenching their man jewels in honey to see if grizzly bears can get it without turning them into publicity-seeking, no-talent eunuch hacks, instead of just publicity-seeking, no-talent hacks (and I loved the movies).

I mean actually, clinically insane, as judged by a panel of medical professionals. Honest to goodness, Grade A nut-balls. I’m beginning a series of my favorites, in no particular order.

***Kanye West—He ain’t messin with no Gold-diggaz, but I can see him setting your car on fire if you reject his call.

This guy is extremely talented, and the only recent artist whose albums I’ve bought at the store. I didn’t get it off iTunes or...borrow it from the music sharing ether.

But he’s out of his gourd, to be sure. He’s thrown a fit at every major awards show. (Because at every awards show he gets screwed worse than Jenna Jameson at a satyromaniac’s convention. Look that word up on dictionary.reference.com. I’m nothing if not an educator.) The guy’s even threatening a joint boycott of MTV with 50 Cent. Priceless.

Another example that he’s a lyrical Norman Bates—his Katrina telethon tirade against George “the gunslinger who never actually fired a bullet” Bush. As Mike Myers stood next to him in horror, his expression amazingly terrified (like how you’d look if you’d just seen Mr. Rogers deep-fry Big Bird alive or just listened to the new Carrie Underwood album), Kanye said flatly, “George W. Bush doesn’t care about black people.”

Now the statement itself is debatable. In fact, I believe Kanye is completely wrong. It’s not that Dubya doesn’t care about black people, he doesn’t care about people. (Alright, that’s kind of a joke. I say kind of because he’s a self-described compassionate-conservative. Which means if you get trapped in a flooded city he’ll pray real hard that you can swim.)

Kanye on Katrina---->http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zIUzLpO1kxI
So with Mr. West the matter boils down to this: How many of us go ape sh** when things don’t go our way? When I received rejections on my first novel, I always responded with polite thanks.

However, I’m thinking of invoking WWKD, what would Kanye do? So after the next rejection, I’m going to the agent’s house, sit outside with a megaphone, and start reading my entire book. The unedited edition. 150K words of Braddy goodness.

Am I really going to do this? No. Why wouldn’t I, why wouldn’t you, do this? Because we’re not crazy. Well....you're not.

Running Diary: How I Ended Up Depressed on Brokeback Mountain

*Reader's note. This is an old running diary written a few weeks after the film's release.

Why did I see Brokeback Mountain? Two primary reasons. First, the more people make something seem taboo, or treat it as if it's some sort of Medusa that'll turn you to stone if you look at her (or in this case two gay cowboys that'll make you a homosexual), the more I want to see it. My curiosity (and my desire to do what I'm told not to) can get the best of me, and that's not necessarily a bad thing.
Secondly, while I do realize that I'm not Marty McFly (Back to the Future Reference, 100pts.) but when someone dares you to do something that the rebel in you is already begging to do, well it's almost enough to do it.
This is how I got there. Sitting in a theatre. A wee bit uncomfortable. (Read wee as the uncomfortable you feel when you're visiting some married friends, they have a huge argument right in front of you, ask you to take sides, and when you say nothing they tell each other to f*** off and leave you sitting by yourself in front of a television that only gets the Lifetime Channel). Without further adieux, my running diary from the

1:00p.m.showing.

1:08- They run a preview for a Beastie Boys concert film and a movie about a guy swimming the English Channel to make us feel more manly. It didn't work. But on a side note, I do plan to swim the channel in the next ten years. Wait and see.

1:18- Here comes the gentle acoustic guitar riffs and sweeping Wyoming mountainside vistas. We are now officially at the point of no return. If I leave now I can still catch the start of 16 Blocks. It's got rappers, Bruce Willis shooting people, everything a red blooded hetero could want. Or maybe Shaggy Dog? Yeah! I like dogs...hell, I've come this far. Time to cowboy up (you like that one? Yes, of course you do).

1:23- Jake Gyllenhall is Jack Twist. Heath Ledger is Enis Delmar (of the sea in Spanish). Enis and Jack Twist, huh? Oh boy. Jack asks Enis, "You ever rodeo?" "Once in a while, when I got the entry fee in my pocket," he answers. Double oh boy.

1:30- Seven or eight minutes of chopping wood, grabbing great big stones, lifting giant sacks into the air (think I'm joking? Go see it. Although, they're probably just hiding their food from bears. But still, lifting a giant sack? I'm starting to wonder about these cowboys).

1:31- Jack's doing his best to tame a strong, wild, stubborn horse. Enis watches. The English major in me says Enis is supposed to be the horse. I need popcorn. Right now. Sure wish I hadn't figured out that bit of symbolism.

1:36- Cowboys seem to eat an inordinate amount of beans. No lunch, so right now I'm craving a can of heated over the campfire, still in the can, beans. That doesn't make me gay, does it? Screw you guys.

1:41- Sundown on Brokeback and Enis just commented that "I may be a sinner, but I ain't yet had the opportunity." Jack has that twinkle in his eye. Damn, won't be long now. 16 Blocks and Shaggy Dog could still save me. They don't have real plots so getting there 45 minutes late wouldn't matter...no, I just can't quit this movie (buh dum dum.)

1:45- We're all in the tent now, and looks like we're liquored up. Jack attempts to spoon, Enis does it then freaks out. Are we fighting or—oh.

1:46- So that's what rough gay cowboy sex is. Well...okay then. On the positive side, the camera went back and forth between their faces, and it went fast, and...who am I kidding, I just groaned so loudly I think they heard me in the back row.

1:47- Enis finds a sheep (one of the several hundred Jack and he are supposed to be protecting) with it's guts gnawed out. Now, I'm all for symbolism, and there's a little in my novel, but that's just gross.

1:52- More tent love. I don't know what these two actors were paid, but they earned every cent. And in case you'd like to know, Jack is clearly the woman. He wantsa commitment from Enis, always sleeps in the tent, and his chest is as hairless as one of those creepy cats in the Austin Powers Movie. Enis's mangy, few bits of chest hair look like they were hastily CGI'd on in postproduction after Ang Lee realized that most Wyoming cowboys barely bathe when they're out on the range, much less take the time to shave off all their body hair. And by the way, this whole hairless thing pisses me of to no end. Anyways...

2:02- Flash forward four years. Enis is married to Alma, played by Michelle Williams, and they have two screaming kids. Seriously, I know babies cry, no problem. But these kids are producing blood curdling screams like I haven't heard since I yelled at the end of the last Matrix movie. By the way, I think that at birth Michelle Williams' face was compressed horizontally by two massive blocks of granite. Not too cute. But that didn't stop her from getting topless.

2:10- Here's Jack's wife. Look kids, it's the Princess Diaries girl, Anne Hathaway! I know this for two reasons. The commercials ran constantly on ESPN because they're owned by Walt Disney, who put out the movie. So while I was watching manly things, like football, I was forced to watch them. Two, she looks like a clown and it creeps me out. But that didn't stop her from getting topless.

2:18- Did Phillip Morris pay for this movie? I realize it's set in the late sixties through early eighties, but can we have one scene without someone lighting up? I think I have cancer now.

2:19- Jack's coming to visit Enis. Here comes the music. Enis streaks down the stairs and greets Jack by passionately pushing him against a wall and making out. Here's me in the movie theater, "Oh sh**!" Literally, that's what I said, at the top of my lungs, as we see Alma glance out the window and watch her husband do the tongue tango with his "fishin buddy." Right in front of his wife. His poor, face-scrunched wife.

2:21- Most Awkward Moment in a Movie This Decade. After saying hi to his buddy, Enis runs in and tells his wife he probably won't be home that night. The same wife who just saw him doing that thing he did to Jack. She says nothing. I think I have an ulcer for her.

2:42- Years pass, Enis gets divorced. Jack's in laws are meddling, bigoted psychopaths (at least the father. And trust me, I have personal experience with this type of father. God, thank you for making some girlfriends exgirlfriends.)

2:52- Whoa! We now officially have three reasonably hot girls in the movie! First it's the scary movie girl, Anna Faris, then it's ER/Scooby Doo girl, Linda Cardellini, and Enis's daughter Alma Jr. (not joking, that's her name), Kate Mara. And all three can act. Refreshing.

2:58- Here is where things stop getting funny, and start getting real (Real World reference, 15 pts.). Enis and Jack both have had some good one liners in the last hour, they're becoming very likeable (not in the like-like way, you jerks) and I'm really starting to feel sorry for them. They live in a world surrounded by total buttholes, especially Jack. But what do you expect? He lives in Texas. I'm really to the point where I wish they would just take off, everybody would leave them alone, and we could all go home. But pictures that get nominated for best film usually don't end well, and I've got a real sinking feeling in my stomach.

3:something- So rarely is my gut wrong. I'm not gonna ruin things for you and that's one reason I'm stopping, but if you liked the ending to Sleepless in Seattle, you may not like this one. (And yes, I realize I'm comparing a hetero romantic comedy to a gay cowboy tragedy. But can we not all just grow up and get out of everyone's personal business. And once more yes, I felt this way before I saw the movie. If Tom Cruise, O.J. Simpson, and Hugh Hefner can get hitched, then Jack and Enis should have the right as well. Anyways...).
As the credits roll, I have to admit I don't feel at all like I'd imagined. As hetero male, I worried this would be uncomfortable scene after the other. While some things were awkward for me, funny even, the main emotion I felt after seeing this film was sorrow. After nearly three hours, especially once the physical interaction died down, I no longer saw Jack and Enis as two gay cowboys, but rather as two individuals whose love was doomed from the start. Want a hetero equivalent? Go watch the Whiskey Lullaby music video or Rome & Juliet. This is the saddest film I have ever seen. More than Old Yeller, the aforementioned Romeo & Juliet, the third season of Farscape, or anything with Ben Affleck (zing!).

The Puck Rule

Thought I might have a quick clarification on the content of this blog. It has been said that I "have a mouth on me." Not like a sailor, but like the guy who makes a remark, then gets swung at. And I'm sorry about that. But not really.

However, if I make come comment you don't like, send me hate mail. Say terrible things about my mother and father, question my heritage and sexual orientation, inform me as to where I’ll be spending my afterlife, or just what particular object I should introduce into one my body’s orifices.

Because I’m sensitive. I’m so very, very sensitive. Most nights I cry myself to sleep on the bathroom floor, curled up in the fetal position and muttering unintelligible movie quotes like “lord make me a bird, so I can fly...,” or “sex panther, sixty percent of the time, it works every time.” So if I discover that I’ve offended anyone in anyway, I might just have the barrel of a 357 magnum for dinner. For the only thing greater than my sensitivity to mean comments, is my lifelong desire to never offend anyone or cause any conflict, ever, ever.

Don't cry for me Blogger, the truth is...

Everyone Can Succeed at Making Me a Success

Okay fellow aspiring writers, here at yet another late hour I have been struck by yet another epiphany!

If all YA writers will stop submitting to agents for six months, one of them will have no choice but to sign me. I'll even take the first one that offers, providing he or she is in my top 25. Then, after the contract is signed on the dotted line, I will make a glorious announcement that I have finally been agented and you can all go back to querying.

Take this time to polish up those third and fourth drafts, outline your next work, and finally finish that work in progress. Whether it be fiction, like Harry Potter and A Million Little Pieces, or non fiction, like How to Understand the Dewey Decimal System and any script written by Wes Anderson. (A work is considered nonfiction if it makes you sleepy, right?)

Or, if you're unlike me and have a life, kiss your girlfriend, boyfriend, or goat. Perhaps you have a spouse and have some arguing to catch up on, or maybe you even need to see "a guy" about the fastest way to receiving said loved one's life insurance policy. And you could always pet your children and prized vases. Cherish the tiny little things. Those vases won't end up tossing you in a nursing home.

So thank you already, as I know everyone will concede that this is what is best for the writing community.

If it's good for the Brad, it's good for everybody!