- After the late-night UltimateBet.com bender, not a mutt in the world can wake me before ten. I shuffle to the bathroom to find Jen, watching old “Murder She Wrote”s (box set!) and smoking, emailing with Chay. She’s hungry, so I throw on a hat and we’re off to the Griddle.
- We sit outside on a blustery L.A. morning and bump into Carrie, the girl Brian Lynch brought to the Poetry Event. Later, we Brian Lynch and Matt Kawczynski roll by for some breakfast and join us. We do an hour on the dancing Odie in the “Garfield” movie and anal (though, y’know – not in the same breath). Brian makes an awesome joke about lasagna at Garfield’s expense, and it keeps me chuckling all day long.
- On the way home, Jen stops for a Coffee Bean on Hollywood, across from Grauman’s. I stay in the car, and I’m transfixed by the costumed Superman lurking in front of the theater.
For those who don’t live here, in front of Grauman’s Chinese Theater you can find all manner of costumed characters: Elmo, Batman, Darth Vader, Chuckie, Michael Myers, Superman, Spider-Man, etc. Until Edgar Wright schooled me on the subject last week, I was under the mistaken impression that they were hired by the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce. Turns out, if you’ve got a costume that’s remotely suggestive of a film or tv icon, you can chill out on Hollywood Blvd. and pose for pictures with tourists for a small fee. It’s kind of fascinating because it’s democratized the costumed impersonation/tribute artist biz. And utter proof of that is the Superman I’m obsessed with: he’s blonde (not brunette), short, his costume’s saggy, he wears red bootlets over red Keds sneakers, and most heinously, he wears glasses. I’m not saying I’d make a better Superman than this guy, but based on the bar he’s setting, I’d come pretty fucking close.
A blonde Superman who wears glasses and has the gall to charge folks for pictures. How appropriately Hollywood.
- We get home and Mos calls to remind me that we have to deliver the first big chunk of the “Rats” re-edit to Universal Home Video today, so I head down to the office to do a final pass on the stuff Mos and I have put together.
- En route, I listen to a message from my brother about a few boxes of signed “Mallrats” books we sent to him that reached the Florida offices completely smudged. He points out that a simple layer of paper towels between the books would go a long way toward preventing this, just as I hit the office.
- Phil Benson’s in the editing room with Scott, as is Laura Greenlee (who I haven’t seen in a dog’s age). We chit-chat about the “Clerks 2″ move, and giggle over the mind-bendingly out there loooooooooong cut of the T.S./Mr. Svenning pre-pretzel scene, after which I learn that Tracy McGrath (a friend and colleague at Miramax) has been hospitalized with severe pneumonia and is only now being moved from ICU to the Critical list. This prompts a long discussion about how little any of us know about pneumonia before we dig into Laura’s love-life a bit and let her head out. I watch some bloopers we’ve found and edit them a bit to just the really good stuff before I take off for home.
- At home, Jen’s waiting for me on the curb, and we load this massive blowup I got from Harvey’s office of Jay and Silent Bob on the bike (that production still which was the most used to promote “Strike Back”). It was one of thirty massive Kodak-made blow-ups of stills from Miramax films that were hanging around the Pacific Design Center for the Miramax Pre-Oscar Party this year, and I’d asked Jessica Rovins if she could score it for me after the party. Harvey’s office sent it out a month ago, but we’re only getting around to having it framed now, so it can be hung in the guest room (aka Mewes’ room).
- We head to the valley, drop the six by four piece off at the framer’s, along with that page from Empire Magazine on which Mewes and I are making pussy-eating faces, with our tongues between our fingers – a piece we’ve decided to hang on Family Wall in the house.
- After the framer’s we pop into Koo-Koo Roo for some chicken for Harley and head over to her school to pick her up from karate class. We get home, and Harley goes into max-and-relax mode with Jen, while I try to get through some email and posts on the board. An hour later, we play some Disney Yahtzee and Jen, after which Jen gives Harley a bath while I clean my office a bit.
- We put Harley to sleep on our couch again, while I finish up some IM’ing, then meet Jen upstairs. She’s jonesing to play some poker, so after we move all the furniture back into place (from the Poetry Event), I install Virtual PC into her laptop (thank you, Mattt Potter) and download Ultimate Bet. After a brief tutorial snit (I can be impatient sometimes), she settles into some fake money play, and I bug Mewes for some chip transfer so I can play real stakes. Annie Duke pops up on my Buddy List, and I immediately accost her like a crackhead looking for a vial, asking her to dump some more cash into my account. We chit-chat for a bit, and then I’m all about the game. There we sit: husband and wife, side-by-side, playing online poker like a pair of junkies (or rather donkeys). Jen turns in around one, but I stay up ’til four – first building a heady little sum from my buy-in before losing it all as I fall asleep playing. I head downstairs, crawl into bed beside the out-cold Jen, and pass out rather quickly, with no help from the TV.