Hi there, kids! Miss me much? I've been just horribly busy lately -- busy not doing much of anything. I took too long reading a friend's script and I haven't cleaned the kitchen in days and I haven't posted an entry here in more than a week. I've been a slacker with a capital SLACK and I know I've been a bad, bad boy. And, hey, admitting you have a problem is the first step toward recovery, right? So maybe I've learned this time around, maybe I'll start posting every single day and twice on Sundays. Or... maybe not.

I'm riffing, can you tell? (And, I might add, not well.) I've been away too long, I've lost the flow, the rhythm, the meter, the whatever it takes to write an entry that stands up and SINGS! Not that you'd want that and not that I ever knew how in the first place. Instead I'm doing this really bad shuck and jive and embarrassing myself. So. Let's try...

...something else instead. How about some random thoughts, a stream of consciousness kind of thing? Yes, Chuck, I think that sounds like just the ticket. All right then...

Jennifer Lopez. Enough already. Go flare your nostrils elsewhere, okay Flygirlfriend?

Stevie Ray Vaughan. Wow. I just picked up an old CD of his, Couldn't Stand The Weather, and all I can say is Wow. Elvis died, I didn't care. John Lennon died, I didn't care. Stevie died... I cared. And that was before I was a big Stevie fan. What a loss.

  Buffy sighting!!! I've started a new morning routine recently. Instead of having my coffee and paper at the kitchen table after dropping Zoe at school on non-work mornings, now I'm taking it al fresco at the Western Bagel on Ventura Blvd in Sherman Oaks, aka The Celeb Zone. I was enjoying this new routine last week when who should stroll by but Sarah Michelle Gellar.

I'm proud to say I reacted as any jaded SoCal'er would: I saw her and catalogued the celeb sighting in 3.2 nanoseconds, then completely ignored her. But inside I was wishing I still worked with Mark, who was scarily obsessed with Ms. Buffy to the point that he'd set up this javascript webpage, 6 Degrees of Buffy, where you entered Buffy's name and another celeb's name and this javascript database obsession thing compared IMDB entries until it spat out how many people apart they were. It was very much a 6 Degrees of Kevin Bacon rip-off (I score a 1 there, btw). Keying off people I've worked with I was able to narrow it down to four people between me and the Bufflet, which really steamed Mark because even by stretching the truth to the breaking point the best he could do was six. He would have had a meltdown to know I'd just narrowed the gap to ZERO!

And if I'd then mentioned that she jumped me right there on the patio and we'd had mind-bending sex... Oh, wait, sorry. Fantasy life run amuck. Never mind...

Keep your eyes peeled for an upcoming Mojave Phone Booth mention in the L.A. Times -- on the front page, no less. A Times reporter interviewed Steve and myself for what he said was going to be a Column One story, which is their page one feature. Oy, talk about exposure. Maybe it's time to scour the archives (which have been updated to show entry titles, btw) and remove all the scatological stuff. Like the last entry, for example.

I suggested the reporter talk to Godfrey and he said he already had and that Godfrey had suggested he not talk to me, saying "That guy's kind of a jerk." Well... garsh! That's not very neighborly! In every interview I've done about the Booth, I always make sure to give Godfrey credit and suggest they go read his page and talk to him. Ahhh... The weather's awfully nice up here on the high road. I'm not used to it, but I think I could grow to like it. Or maybe Godfrey meant a Steve Martin kind of Jerk. Yeah, I'm sure that's it. We're still buds, I just know it.

And speaking of Booth mentions, you readers in Germany should keep your eyes peeled for an upcoming mention in the magazine Allegra. They're apparently going to run one of Steve's Booth photos, so my boy's gonna have photo credit. Go, Steve! I'm telling you, those Germans are just wacky for the Booth.

I'm still not smoking, btw. 40 days and 40 nights and +10 lbs later I'm still off the Devil Weed. The first week was the hardest, then it wasn't too bad at all, but the last week or so has been rough. I've really wanted a cigarette on a few occasions. Usually it's prompted by nothing at all, but a few times it's been prompted by my very own supportive wife smoking while sitting on the couch right next to me! Not that she isn't behind me 100% ... pushing.

But I can't hold that against her. She's an addict, she's still a Slave to the Weed. She's weak, it's not her fault. Not everyone is as strong as I was, not everyone has the steel to make such a decision a reality...

And yes, that is exactly the kind of abuse I'm giving her every time she lights a smoke. I'm being so holier-than-thou that even I don't like me. But hey, I quit. I earned it. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, you Smoker!!!

Happy Birthday to the 'stake, by the way. It was two years old on August 13, which also happened to be a Friday and I don't even know what to make of that. Take a moment and have a gander at the very first entry. Marvel at the melodrama and the righteous indignation -- and at what assholes people can be and why some people should be sterilized.