http://www.thespark.com/thesparkcam/christian.html

This guy is hilarious. Now I'm upset. But listen to the song, it's pretty damn good.

3-29-02
But You Get Your Very Own Paper Cup!

All right, all right, I'm realizing that I can't keep paying my rent out of my college fund, because then I won't have any left for -- drumroll -- college. That means if I don't get a job soon, I'll be sleeping in a puddle of some guy's pee in front of Port Authority (again. But that's a long story). By the way, have I mentioned that it's spring break and all my friends are in Vegas right now? Fun fact: It costs money to go to Vegas. No, no, it's true!

But of course I'm too lazy and important to scamper out and grovel at the feet of every employer in the tri-state area. I think I'll just fax my resume to every bar I can think of and see what happens. I was kind of waiting around to see if Governor's, this comedy club near my apartment, would be hiring bartenders any time soon, but they're not because they're mean.

I wish I had other options besides bars, but I can't think of any other place (that I'm qualified for) where I can only work nights. See, I have classes during the day now, and over the summer I refuse to wake up before 1 pm. Actually, I really should cut that out, but to do that I'd have to stop staying up till 5 am every night, and that's when I get all my best work done.

Oh, and I'm starting to develop an uncontrollable facial tic when people ask me what I'm doing this summer, so I'll just tell everybody now: I am moving out of my shithole apartment, selling my furniture, getting a sublet in Manhattan and working my ass off to keep it. See? It really isn't the news of the century.

3-27-02
Ow! My Self-Esteem!

Okay, so I was in Manhattan today for really no reason at all. I used to work there, and every day I would come in early to avoid the rush hour train, which is twice the price of the regular train. And I'd have a few hours to kill, so I'd just kind of hang around. I hated that, but after I quit my job I discovered that when I'm away from Manhattan for too long, I get cranky. Don't know why, but after six months of bitching about the crappy commute and all the time I had to waste, I started regularly commuting in and wasting time.

Anycrap, that's what I was doing today. So I'm wandering around Chelsea, and it's lunchtime, so I'm trying to track down some coffee or a hot dog or something. Maybe an overturned beer truck (eh? eh?). I go down some street in the 20's, and I walk right past Dave Attell, the guy with that Insomniac show, upon which he is unbearably sexy every Wednesday night. I could have said something ... oh, the things I could have said ... but I didn't, because I'm a fucking douchebag. Sometimes I wish I had balls so I could kick myself in them.

Ah, fuck it. I'm pissed now, but I know me. By tomorrow I'll be blaming it on my bad luck shirt that I was wearing (all kinds of bad shit happens when I wear it, but it looks nice on me -- not that it did me any good today). Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a glass of scotch in the kitchen that says it wants to make me feel better, and I think it would be rude not to accept. I should really become attractive. See, this is one of those situations where that particular skill might come in handy.

3-26-02
How to Get Everyone to Give You Their Opinion, Lesson 1

1) Go outside.
2) Light a cigarette.
BONUS: 3) Appear to enjoy it.

This isn't a very original rant, but it's something I'm starting to find more annoying every day. I'm worried that if one more person walks up to me unsolicited, and says something along the lines of "You know those things have rat poison in them," (or any other fucking tag they picked up from a Truth ad), I'll shove a boot up their ass, and that's just not right. For two years, I've had a prepared speech for just such a situation, but lately I've been through it so many times, it sounds like I'm reading a cue card. And that's a shame, because it means I'm not putting as much feeling into it as it deserves.

All right, look. I know I could just flip all these people off and walk away, but I feel like if I can stop just one individual from spouting off their smug little facts, then I've made a difference, however small. So here goes:

Despite what many would have you believe, not all smokers are brain-dead inconsiderate satanists. First off, I don't smoke in any place where it might bother someone. I know a lot of people do; I don't. Second off, I know what's in them, okay? Hello?! Is there anyone alive who doesn't? If you don't, either it's 1963, or you're a jackass. You don't need an entire organization with a cryptic name to spread that around like it's some kind of hot tip. The other thing about cigarettes is that, since they're legal, I know where the profit's going. If I had a nice crack habit, my money might be supporting terrorism, but I don't, so it's not; it's going back to Philip Morris so that they can manufacture more Marlboro Reds and delicious Miller Genuine Drafts for my enjoyment.

So give me a break. I've never met anyone who quit smoking because of one patronizing comment from a complete stranger. Mind your own damn business and find another cause.

3-25-02
Jess Watches the Oscars

Yes, yes, I did. And it really wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It certainly wasn't necessary for me to liquor up beforehand, but of course it was too late to do anything about that.

I didn't want to watch the Oscars. But, I had to write an article about a specific aspect of the entertainment industry. And since I didn't think 500 words about why I'm attracted to comedians would blow anyone away, I ran with this. Also I had $50 riding on A Beautiful Mind, which, if you're unemployed, is a little like wagering your parents' lives.

Okay, A Beautiful Mind won, so I can eat guilt-free for a few weeks. And like I said, it really wasn't that bad. But I (ready?) have a couple of things to say.

1) Don't ever watch the Oscars with my mother (if it ever comes up). I did, because I'm visiting her this weekend. So for the entire 4 1/2 hours, I was treated to a running commentary of who's old, who's fat, who has ugly parents, who has ugly children, and whose hair is too puffy, too curly, too sloppy, or too blond.

2) Why wasn't Memento nominated for Best Picture? Shit, why didn't it win the few awards it was nominated for? Memento is the best movie I've ever seen, and I'm convinced it's the best movie ever made, period. What the hell is the matter with you people? Not enough weepy monologues comprised of cliches about the meaning of life? No semi-talented big names who can cry at the drop of a hat but can't have a convincing on-screen conversation? No vague obvious moral at the end? Fuck whoever was responsible for this, fuck everyone they know, and fuck anyone who looks like them. I hope you all get rabies.

3) Don't put your money on a movie you haven't seen. You'll spend the whole ceremony wondering if you're the only one who doesn't know that it actually sucked.

That's it. I swear. And no, I didn't watch any of E!'s pre-Oscar coverage. I can't watch anything on E! without becoming very very angry that E! actually exists. But that's a whole new rant that I'm too hung over to delve into. Maybe tomorrow.