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Thanks to everyone for tuning in for yesterday’s SecondHand Radio with Jeff. It is the final episode, at least on Blog Talk Radio. I’m switching over to Talkshoe for future episodes. And I’m probably moving to Thursday nights. Gotta wrangle up some guests, but I’ll keep you posted, of course.
For those of you that have already listened to the show, if you’d like to check out the links for Jeff’s kids’ projects, here are the links:
Austin’s Skateboard Park Project
So as I sit in Hilly’s apartment, listening to the merriment that is Jester, Uncle Monkey Boy, Othurme, Winter, Motley, and myself singing and playing Rock Band and drinking, it’s time to write something about Dave Diego.
Hilly and Winter and Motley and I drove along the coast, heading for San Diego. Some scenery was prettier than others, but the driver went (relatively) quickly. There was a lot of traffic, but no big deal.
When we got to San Diego and finally parked, we saw Boba Phet.
And the folks from the Dharma Initiative.
We decided - after realizing that Nicky Rotten’s was having a UFC fight night and charging a $10 cover charge - that we’d replant Dave Diego into the Whiskey Girl across the street.
There were of course, many people there. Dave and Hilly were together like glue on corn flakes.
Or wait, was it this two?
Hard to say. There’s Vahid and Hilly. Hilly was sandwiched between them most of the evening.
There’s Winter, Vahid, and Hilly having some laughs. There were many there that evening.
And SJ giving me some loving.
There’s Richard and Daniel, part of the gay coalition.
And there’s Paul.
And Jerry, aka Othurme.
There were zombies!
And guitarists singing Johnny Cash and Oasis!
And babes galore!
I mean, LOOK!
And there were heated debates about the injectability of gayness!
And again, much laughter.
And many more pictures on Flickr, which you can find by clicking in the “Stalking Karl” section in the sidebar of the blog. Just click on the blue and pink circle thingie.
Afterwards, despite nearly getting mugged by a guy with a paint scraper, we walked around to find Motley a ladies’ room. In doing so, we ran across someone who told us about a free art show. Most importantly, there was an open bar.
So we went to the art show and met numerous artists in a couple of different lofts. There was some cool collaborative art mural being done by a bunch of different artists. And also hair graffiti.
There’s Motley sporting her new bad-ass beehive.
It was a very cool night and the art show just made a marvelously fortuitive cap to the evening. Wish you’d been there. For reals, yo.
Filed under Travel, Weblogs | Comments (25)
So BlogHer. Yeah. I have loved BlogHer every year, but this year? Not so much. It’s not because it’s not filled with tons of great people. It’s just that, well, it’s too fucking big now.
Every year more and more people show up and so it’s more of a clusterfuck than ever before. I knew it was going to be different this year on Thursday night when I went to the People’s Party and it was wall-to-wall people with $8 fucking beer.
Sure, I ran into many of my favorite people. Sarah and Suebob and Average Jane, and many others. But it’s actually a chore now to hook up with people you want to hook up with. More than ever this weekend it was truly a case of me NOT running into many of the people I went to see.
I went to a number of sessions and discussion groups. My favorite was the first one I went to on Friday morning about introverts. Monty was on the panel and it was a great session.
Hilly spoke up into the mike at one point, talking about things from the other side of the fence…as an extrovert. And I got up and talked, too, explaining that one of MY methods for dealing with BlogHer is to design and wear mildly offensive t-shirts. It’s a great icebreaker.
Sure, I got a ton of business cards and two bags full of swag. And I’ll be spending some time this week entering URLs into Firefox because I don’t have enough fucking feeds already. But in general, I spent far less time at BlogHer this year than I have in the past. I just couldn’t make it happen…couldn’t flip my freaking-the-fuck-out switch off for very long.
I totally skipped the parties because I knew they’d be too loud and too crowded for me. And the parties are generally some of the best times at BlogHer. I opted for the much more sane smaller and intimate group - Hilly and the Gay Mafia - at night. I didn’t even catch the closing keynote with Dooce.
So I really don’t have a lot to say about the conference other than what I’ve said. I don’t know that it’s going to hold the same level of fun for me any more. It’s just getting unmanagable for me. And that kinda makes me sad.
In other news, I’m still tired, though I had a decent sleep last night. And today. I’m also very broke. I ought to take donations because I know that’d send Jester through the freaking roof. I am also still dumbfounded that I was called “The Man” on a radio show on Sunday.
Filed under BlogHer, Travel | Comments (32)
I’m Whit, and I’ll be your captain today. That’ll be $15 per bag, thank you.
Apparently a lot of people have been sweating to the oldies over the pressures of guest blogging for Karl. Me? I’m as cool as the other side of the pillow. I have this thing about never letting them see me sweat. I take no stance on letting them hear me fart. It’s a free countries.
Truth be told I didn’t sweat it because I didn’t give it a lot of thought (as you’ll soon realize). This isn’t a sign of disrespect to Karl, I’ll do that later. No, it’s just how I roll. If you’ve ever been bored enough to check out my blog then you know I’m not much for points. I think round is funny. This is why you’ll actually enjoy all of the other posts while finding this one to be a bit “lacking.”
The thing is, I was born a rambling man. I’m trying to make a living, just doing the best I can. Karl said to make ourselves at home, so I have. That being the case I’m going to open a beer and get to work on my not having a point. It’s harder than it sounds (Yes, that really is what she said.)
*****
Did you know that Karl went to BlogHer? I understand they make you check your penis at the door. I’m sure that was no problem for Karl, he’ll check his penis anywhere. And often.
I almost went. Hell, I even tried to invite myself to carpool with Karl and Ms. Hilly (and offered to stay on their floor- for FREE!), but they wouldn’t have it. They needed all the extra room for Karl’s t-shirts and his weed.
It’s just as well. Karl needed a wingman and I’m more of a kamikaze drinker/pilot. I picture Karl as more of the fly over type- the kind of guy that wouldn’t think twice about buzzing your tower. Whatever that means. I wouldn’t have done much for his game. He’s all about the approach and I’m all about the landing- or something like that. We’d be like Iceman and Maverick. Of course the real loser would be the ladies (and Goose).
Besides, my wife said I could only go if I promised not to have sex with anyone. I know, that’s bullshit.
Hence, I stayed home and got some work done.
For instance, on Thursday night, just as I should have been checking into my friends’ San Francisco hotel room and getting my blog on I had to go cover a party for one of my jobs. That’s right, I have multiple gigs. I’m a freaking catch.
I had to go sit in the sun on the Santa Monica Pier and interview a Victoria’s Secret model. It was almost 80 degrees out! What the hell? Working sucks.
Then they made me stand around in a VIP tent for hours and drink free beer. Can you believe that shit? Who the hell do Victoria’s Secret think they are? Hertz?
I actually did have one serious issue. At one point I was unable to get to the open bar because Fall Out Boy was standing between me and an icy, cold one. I had to wait 15 MINUTES while Pete Wentz talked about something and Ashlee Simpson adjusted her headband. Christ, Wentz, that beer wasn’t going to drink itself.
Still, the weekend wasn’t a total loss. I did get to see Space Chimps. I took my boys and between the three of us I believe we actually bankrolled the entire movie. The chimps themselves were drawn well and their dialogue was funny enough, although none of the other adults in the theater seemed to get the David Bowie jokes or Airplane! quotes. No accounting for taste.
The rest of the movie looked, sounded, and felt like it had been created by a bunch of 3rd graders with finger paint and just a touch of acid. It was shocking how crappy most of it was. Look, I’m as spoiled by Pixar as the next guy, but at least try.
Of course it featured the obligatory voice work of Patrick Warburton who better be careful or he’ll soon find himself picking up all of Eddie Murphy’s discards- which I can only imagine are better than what he’s been making. Meet Dave? That ain’t Delirious.
I’m thinking about having Warburton come hide behind my couch and make guests think that my dog can talk. I have no doubts that he’d do it, it’s just a matter of convincing the dog.
I also saw some movie about a guy that dresses up as a bat. Like people will pay to watch that crap. Hollywood is way high. Like Karl high.
So now the weekend is over and I’ve eased back into my work week, unshaven, unshowered and unpantsed. You know, the uniform.
Karl is just a little more than a hundred miles away right now and I can’t help but think that he might call. We could grab a beer and wear t-shirts together. I could let him listen to the Victoria Secret’s model on my voicemail. He could hear my dog talk. We could even take acid and finger paint a sequel to Space Chimps and count how many times one of us says, “Your days of finger painting Mary Jane Rotten Crotch through her pretty pink panties are over.” Guy stuff.
Bottom line, if I had tits he would have been here an hour ago.
It is now safe to move around the cabin.
Filed under BlogHer, Blogging, Current Affairs, Guest Post, Humor, Sex, Travel | Comments (14)
