I haven't posted in a while...

Sorry readers! I went back to prison... (my prison counselor job, that is!) But I am trying to get a little more diligent about my blogging. Soon, I'll actually have the internet back in my house. Yay! And a few moere changes little by little in my life.
Quick shout out to my cousin Chris Meyers, who is celebrating his birthday today. Happy Day, Chris!
OK, I'm getting back into the swing of things, readers, so bear with me, and thanks for sticking it out.
Aloha!

Some crazy stuff, my awesome readers!

Ya gotta stay tuned 'til tomorrow, though. I just escaped from a crazy cult, and I'm also thinking about shutting down my "Myspace" page. Look for tomorrow's blog!

What a week I'm having... and it's only Tuesday!

So a mistake I made several months ago has come back and bit me on the ass. To all involved parties, I apologize, and feel really bad about it. It was without malice, and I was not in a good place at the time. To anyone who may get dragged into it, I also apologize. Some good that's coming out of the whole thing—I learned a lot about myself, and I know where I need to improve. Plus, it's helping me to appreciate my wife, the Lovely Mrs. Shoehead much more. it's also made me reflect upon my Faith, and I know if I stay faithful...

Isaiah 54:17 (New King James Version)
17 No weapon formed against you shall prosper,
And every tongue which rises against you in judgment
You shall condemn.
This is the heritage of the servants of the LORD,
And their righteousness is from Me,”
Says the LORD.

DAMN, I'm 0 for 3!

So that Danny won last night's Hell's Kitchen. Jeez!!! My reality-TV bracket got crushed this year. I backed Alison Iraheta in "Idol", Annie Duke in "Celebrity Apprentice" and Paula Dasilva in "Hell's Kitchen". I give up!

OK, two things I notice about Billy Ray Cyrus:

1) He’s trying to redeem himself for that ridiculous mullet he sported around in the early 90’s by now trying to have THE COOLEST HAIR EVER!!! and,
2) He’s been totally pimping out his daughter, trying to sell her to the viewing public as this hot little sex symbol since she was like, 14… Creepy! It's almost like he wanted to date her or something. I dunno...
That’s it. Short blog today. Have a great weekend, my awesome readers!

Okey Dokey, Gokey!

So the soulful Danny Gokey bit the dust on last night's Idol... Now, it looks like nothing will stop musical theatre Adam Lambert from taking the Idol crown. (Or in his case, I believe it's a tiara.) I actually didn't watch the show, as my satellite went out, and DirecTV customer service was too busy screwing around. So I actually read books last night! Yay me!

I'm going through a really weird phase right now. I'm on a medical leave from my job, and I'm trying to decide if all that stress was really worth it. I loved working with the inmates, but the environment was crazy. I'm going full blast with my ACN business, and that's going great! I love the company, and I love the actual work of reaching out to people and talking and all that. Our products and services are great too; I'm getting ready to upgrade my cell phone to some kind of kick-ass model, with all sorts of features I'll never learn how to use. So that's keeping me going. The Lovely Mrs. Shoehead, well... She's OK. I'll save that for another blog. Very weird phase I'm in right now. Very weird... Stay tuned my awesome readers!

Oh, No! Not Joan Rivers!

Within a week, I tallied two losses in my “reality-TV” bracket. Still reeling from Alison Iraheta’s departure, I watched last night as mean, nasty Joan Rivers took the “Celebrity Apprentice” prize away from poker player Annie Duke. Of course, I could see it coming. The task was to throw a fund-raising event, and I saw that Joan clearly threw the better party, complete with drag-queen celebrity impersonators, and Kathy Griffin-caliber celebs like Constantine Maroulis and Kathy Griffin. Crucially for the task (and the show), the ever-important Kodak branding was sadly lacking on Annie’s side. More pointedly, Mr. Trump gave small indications that her favored Ms. Rivers. He ignored her rude outbursts, never fully addressed the ugly personal attacks against Ms. Duke, and gave the slightest tone of disdain when talking to the poker champ. Her pair of threes was basically trumped by Joan’s pair of fours.
I have really lost a lot of respect for Joan Rivers after this show. I had always respected her career, and really thought she was a genuinely funny lady. But the way she acted over the course of the show was utterly abysmal. She acted so incredibly childish—even to the point of plugging her ears with her fingers when Annie spoke, and making “blah-blah-blah” noises; as well as repeatedly interrupting and filibustering when Ms. Duke tried to answer Mr. Trump’s questions. I just thought she was more sophisticated than that. Mr. Trump was extremely forgiving when it came to Joan’s disrespecting the hallowed boardroom, which to me was the harbinger of the competition’s outcome. Ms. Duke would have had to magically produced a royal flush out of her sleeve to have won this task, as well as the competition itself.
Just a sidebar—Melissa Rivers actually looked kinda hot last night. Sexy dress, cool hair; (But I think it was the blue eye shadow that did it for me!) OK, where was I? Oh yeah, I was pretty much done. Let’s wrap today’s blog so I can go out running with Bocce, my Italian Greyhound.
So to me, the highlight of the night was Annie and Brande Roderick using ACN notepads for taking notes! Our logos were visible and large on the screen about four or five times! Yay! That was the coolest! But other than all the Joan nastiness, it was a great show last night! And NBC purchased season 9. Now for my “reality-TV” bracket, the only thing I have left is if that cute Paula beats that dweebie Danny on “Hells Kitchen”. Fingers crossed!

Thank you, “Scrubs”

I just watched the season finale of “Scrubs” the other night, and I was actually very touched. It had just the right amount of laughter and tears, as well as a bit of nudging of my personal self-reflections, that made me think out loud, “Wow—what a great series…”
Like most popular shows that I fall in love with, I arrived late in the game, only having seriously devoted myself to the show sometime in the summer of last year. I remember in 2001, when I first moved to California and I was “couchman” in a townhouse apartment in Redondo Beach with a bunch of crazy 23 year-old stoner surfers (or surfing stoners—I wasn’t 100% clear on that—but it was still a blast!), one of my roommates, Scottie and I caught a few minutes of the then-brand new show. Scottie mentioned that it was supposed to be a pretty funny show, to which I nodded some kind of acknowledgement. That was it. For the next seven years of channel-surfing, mindless TV escapes, and late-night vegetations, I’d see “Scrubs” occasionally pop up, but I never lingered. I dismissed the show as fast as my finger could hit the remote buttons. Finally—after life took me to the cultural gulag that is Firebaugh, CA with the Lovely Mrs. Shoehead—I happened to land on a “Scrubs” episode, and immediately I was hooked. The characters were all quirky and intriguing; the writing exceptional; gags and storylines were top-notch; realism and absurdity blended perfectly. The show had heart, but never took itself too seriously. I voraciously auto-tuned and devoured every episode I could.
So as the final episode aired this past week, protagonist Dr. John Dorian (J.D.) played by Zack Braff was finally leaving Sacred heart Hospital after eight years of memories, emotions, and human drama. His best friend (and borderline boyfriend) Dr. Christopher Turk, played by Donald Faison, as well as his girlfriend, Dr. Elliott Reid, played by the ever-hot Sarah Chalke were on hand to commemorate his final day. J.D. laments that his last day of a very remarkable time in his own life, is treated as basically just another day at the hospital by the rest of the staff; including—most painfully—his mentor, Dr. Perry Cox (John C. McGinley) As J.D. finally walks out of Sacred Heart for the last time, memorable characters, dead and alive (including Hooch!), line the halls to bid him farewell, J.D. finally getting a send-off to cap his eight years at the hospital.
It was a great ending for a show that really did give me a lot personally. It lifted me up when I was feeling at a low point; it opened up my imagination and my mind to endless possibilities; it taught me some skills and renewed my resolve as an actor; and most importantly, never failed to make me laugh. So I want to thank Bill Lawrence and all the producers of the show, Zack Braff and the rest of the cast, and everyone who had a hand in making that show what it was (including my friend Kateri, who I saw as “Nurse Mop-top” in one episode.) So, kudos on a well executed series, and thanks again for what “Scrubs” meant to me.

I must blog on…

While I still mourn the ousting of Alison Iraheta, I really need to get back on the stick and continue on, albeit difficult. Must… keep… blogging… As of right now, Shoehead’s World is in a bit of a nebulous phase; a time of uncertainty. I’m on leave from my prison job, and I just spoke with one of the producers of “Co-ed Confidential” about the shooting schedule for the long-awaited season 4. Now, as much as I love my clients in the prison—some absolutely wonderful women, seriously trying to change their lives around—my heart was never completely in the job. I came to California in 2001 with a purpose. I was to further my acting career, which was making slow but steady progress on the East Coast, and add the new dimension of screenwriter and producer. I made some great inroads, and met a lot of great people in the film industry, but I really feel like I just scratched the surface of achieving my goals. Along the line I was a marijuana smuggler, towel guy at a gym, truck driver, warehouse worker, shipping and receiving guy, bartender, and now a drug counselor—all of which added to the pantheon of stories to fuel my screenwriting. I also met “the girl of my dreams”—the Lovely Mrs. Shoehead—who, while a sweetie, never fully grasped the passion, focus, and drive needed to attain everything I’ve worked for the last several years. She couldn’t quite grasp why I’d prefer fetching coffees and sweeping floors on a movie set to making $15/hour shipping in some warehouse in Chatworth. So, while now I’m 250 miles away from my industry, and I’m seeing friends of mine popping up on TV shows and movies, while I drag my ass to a literal prison every day (thanks for the perfect metaphor, God!), my Spidey-sense is tingling and telling me to make a few drastic changes. First of all, I had always believed in the unlimited potential of the human spirit. Applied to myself, I’m trying to get back to the mindset that the only thing limiting me is me. I have determination, drive, a little creativity; people usually tend to like me, I get along with almost everyone I meet; so there’s no reason I can’t set out and start attacking my goals in a systematic, focused fashion.
One of the ways I’m taking the reins on my life’s direction is by going back to writing every day, including blogging. I really love putting this blog out there, and I know I have at least a couple of readers. This totally unlocks my creativity, lets my mind open up and flow, and gives me a sense of purpose. I also believe that now that I have perhaps five or more readers, I have to at least write a B- blog. At the very least. Because another of my personal beliefs is to always maintain a standard of excellence. I think that’s something that a lot of people these days don’t really think about, lest adhere to. And I think it’s sad. But, since I can only work my own program, I’m going to really make an effort to carry myself with a new sense of excellence; write a blog that I would want to read if it were someone else’s, and commit to furthering my goals in a steady, determined manner. There’s a book on ancient Toltec wisdom that I read three years ago called “The Four Agreements”, and my brother and I actually tried to implement those agreements into our lives. One of the agreements is to always be excellent, and I’m going to reinstate that agreement. So I hope this was an excellent blog; I’m now going to have an excellent cup of coffee, and try to excellently decide if I’m returning to the prison or not. Excellent!

Adieu, my Alison…

It was something I was awaiting with dread—the ousting of my favorite little 17 year old red-haired rocker, Alison Iraheta. And so it did finally occur last night, as America just didn’t push enough buttons for the crooning cutie. I myself am guilty of not dialing. (If she lost by one vote, I’ll really be pissed… Sorry, Alison—I’m still your biggest fan!) She took it well, and she did make fourth place out of hundreds of thousands of aspirants. Plucky, and obviously a good sport, she gracefully bowed out with her Janis Joplin number, “Cry Baby”. The last girl in this season’s competition then exited the stage, leaving three dudes vying for the big win.
I had been pulling for her for almost the entire competition. During the auditions, and Hollywood week, she remained under the radar with the producers and the camera operators. I noticed her bright red “notice me” hair, and saw that she was sorta troll-doll cute, but it wasn’t until the final 12 (oops—13. Sorry, Anoop!) when I first caught a performance did I realize just how talented this little rocker really is. And then, as the other contestants, particularly other females began to fall, I realized that she might just go all the way. But as recent weeks found her in the bottom three, and Simon’s obvious and very vocal disdain for her, I knew that her weeks on the show were soon at an end. And last night, these fears were actualized. Sigh…
Now, I haven’t written her off for good. I believe she’ll be a very successful recording artist, and help keep the blues-rock genre still remain afloat in the ocean of hip-hop, ultra-commercial R&B, and cheesey mainstream crap-rock. She’ll do the Idol tour, and make her appearances on subsequent Idol episodes. But now I don’t really feel like I have a reason to watch the next two weeks. It’s pretty clear that musical-theatre Adam Lambert is gonna win the whole pie. While he has a pretty good voice, and is definitely an entertainer, there doesn’t seem to be anything genuine about him. Everything is a performance. This whole “American Idol” thing for him is just a big audition. He’s trying to play a “rocker”—complete with the perfect “rocker” hair (which he has to return to Liza Minelli when the season ends), perfect “rocker” clothes, and perfect “rocker” attitude. He is a good actor, that’s for sure. He’s convinced enough people that he really is a “rocker”. I just can’t really envision in the years to come, real rock-n-roll people lining up to see an Adam Lambert concert. I see the same demographic that lines up to see a Hannah Montana concert buying these tickets, but the metalheads and the serious rockers that I’ve known all my life… I just don’t see it. Unless Queen got my earlier blog, and is considering him for their reunion tour, playing the Freddie Mercury spot. I might even line up and buy a ticket for that!

Rivers and Rivers

Oy, vey! Last night’s “Celebrity Apprentice” once and for all demolished any shred of respect I had for Joan Rivers. After clinger-on daughter Melissa was voted off, in a somewhat surprising decision, I thought that I would enjoy the ensuing meltdown. But as the drama unfurled, and Melissa threw a tantrum that surpassed even reality-show standards, my shädenfreude-driven glee soon turned to discomfort as disturbed mother Joan joined her ousted daughter in a shameless breakdown. It actually became downright disturbing. Profanity-laden, personal attacks erupting as Rivers and Rivers furiously scrambled to make the most dramatic angry exit possible; screaming at P.A.’s to GIVE THEM THEIR F'ING PURSES RIGHT NOW, and explosively informing segment producers there would NOT be an exit interview NO F’ING WAY!!! Sheesh! The funny thing is, the pair acted as if this was actually a real job! Don’t they get to go back to their lives and their “real” careers now?

Over the last few weeks, Mama Rivers really seemed to lose it as the game went on. For some reason she became fixated on poker champ Annie Duke, who skillfully used her poker-playing acumen to do amazingly well in the game. Madame Joan increasingly leveled personal attacks on Ms. Duke, becoming more nasty and vitriolic as the show went on. I’ve witnessed cut-throatedness, and personal vendettas on this show before, but never to the level of almost psychotic fixation that Ms. Rivers was displaying. It had gotten to the point of being pathetic, and it was soon obvious a complete meltdown was imminent. I’m not sure whose idea it was to put these two together on the show anyway, as I’ve blogged about before. Especially when they were placed on opposing teams. Joan could not restrain herself from overprotecting her daughter, and this led to a somewhat compromised team loyalty. And then poor Annie Duke! She became Joan’s white whale. While definitely as cut-throat and scheming as you’d expect from a million-dollar poker champion, Annie never acted the Hitler, whore, bottom-feeder, scum, slime, and all other epithets Ms. Joan accused her of being. Every other contestant knew this show is a game, and the ousted took their oustings with grace and sportsmanship—including my favorite, the kute Khloe Kardashian. Joan took this game way too seriously, and gave no regard to how petulant, petty, and just plain nuts she came across to the viewing audience of approximately 20 million.

Now, Melissa… Hmmmm. I’d have expected Mama Joan to throw out her dignity and treat us to a huge tantrum, but I really didn’t expect Melissa to blow the gasket like she did. Now I do see that she is truly her mother’s daughter. I watched as she tried vainly to keep her cool, but with each second her anger overtook her. She even broke the cardinal rule of snapping off on Donald Trump (gasp!) in the boardroom, and subsequently scurried out the door, cursing everyone as she went. Joan followed her out—porting about six shopping bags and totes, looking like she was going down to 5th avenue to finish her shopping. I’d like to say I’m gonna miss the drama of having these two on the show, but I really won’t. The creepiness factor has been finally eliminated (at least one element), and the last contestants can now finish out the game with competitiveness and good, clean cut-throatedness. (Unless Jesse James punches out Clint Black—fingers crossed!)

What a day I had...

I had some chest pains, and my doctor told me if that happened, go straight to the E.R. (not the TV series) so I got to the hospital at 7:00 am, and didn't get out til 2:30 pm! And I was stabbed and drawn blood from like six times! BUT, when I got really hungry, they did feed me. It was the 'cardio" plate, and it was pretty good—the Jello™ was superb! Finally, they let me go. All-in-all it was not a bad experience. The prison I work at sends our inmates there, so I actually saw some of the correctional officers I knew from A-yard, so we BS'd for a minute. And I gave huge kudos for my E.R. doctor, and nurse Jen, too. both of them were super cool! Not having quite enough of the hospital setting, I came home and watched a "Scrubs" re-run. Yay!
(I really feel like a cold beer right about now. Would that be a bad idea? Hmmmm...)

I couldn't take it any longer!

I had to call in sick from prison this morning. I was feeling crappy, and I was still pissed at not getting my scheduled day off, and I think that made my blood pressure go redline. So I took the day off, and was thinking about going to the "Tea Party" in Fresno, to show support for my fed-up tax-paying fellow citizens. But I didn't. As a Libertarian, I'm all for the protest. If I felt better, I really would've gone. Anyway, I think it's a great thing they've done, and I hope it sends a message to the current regime. I'm just gonna drink a shot of Nyquil™ and fade off into Happy Dreamland...

Tuesday kinda sucked...

Man, all I can say is, I was supposed to be off today. I switched my day off so a co-worker could attend a wake, and the powers-that-be made me jump through hoops and finally gave me Friday off to make up for it. THEN they didn't even let my friend off to go to her wake anyway!!! After all that!!!
So the morning started out sucky. the usual--all work, 100% hassle--finally lunch came. After lunch, it did turn around after I held my counseling group. My awesome clients brought me back from despair! So now I'm home, and it's my Tuesday ritual--Heinekins and Idol. Yay! My prediction-- So long, Anoop!

My Zillion-Dollar Idea!

OK, As I was watching an old Queen concert from Wembley Stadium 1986, I came up with an amazing idea, that I think will be, as the kids say--"da bomb!" Basically we need the remaining Queen guys to re-form, and get American Idol contestant Adam Lambert to be the new lead singer, as a half-decent replacement for Freddie Mercury. It would be perfect! And ya just know Adam would love the whole theatrical gig, plus the vocal stylings! Someone call Brian May! get Roger Taylor and John Deacon! Let's make this thing happen!!!

Remember, you first heard it from your ol' pal Shoehead...

Politics, again???

As much as I loathe politics, and really don’t like to make this a political blog, I almost can’t help it. They really do shove politics down your throat, and by “down your throat”, I really mean “up your ass”; and by “they”, I really mean “the media”. It’s bad enough that you can’t escape the nonstop political coverage continually harassing you when you’re just trying and live your life, and get through your day. But the fact that the media outlets basically have thrown out all vestiges of objectivity, abandoned what was once considered a quest for the truth, and unashamedly turned into a propaganda vessel. It would be one thing if they held both sides accountable; if they really did truthfully and fairly act as watchdogs for the public’s behalf, as they purport to be. Holding equally accountable Democrats as well as Republicans, and pursuing the abuses of power and erosions of freedoms on both sides with the same fervor. But that’s not the case. Instead, we basically get 24/7 Obama-love blasting at us, in a non-stop Orwellian campaign to force us to embrace him; selling us on the idea that he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to America, the world, you, me, and our children’ children. YOU… WILL… LOVE… THIS MAN!

Which leads me to ask the question, why is it that when Obama takes a public crap (such as asking a wounded soldier on the battlefield to hand the medic an insurance card, or cracking a Special Olympics joke—two recent examples) and then apologizes or retracts it, it vanishes almost instantly; whereas if any Republican—particularly George Bush, but really any Republican—makes any kind of misstep, or misspeak, or even proposes an unpopular policy decision, the chorus of petulant outrage blares throughout the land for weeks on end, relentlessly? They know they do it, our “news” anchors, reporters, and pundits. But do they feel any ethic shame for having abandoned core principles like that? Do these “journalists” have any shred of recalcitrance for basically regarding the American public as a bunch of submissive, irrelevant imbeciles? Sadly, after several generations of graduates from the indoctrination centers known as our public schools demonstrate, many of them are. But I still love America. I love the American people—all our quirkiness, superficiality, and stupid reality TV shows aside. I find it difficult to grasp that as a nation, we have all become the idiots that these media people treat us like. We are still a great nation, despite what the media and the Democrats try to portray us as.

My dear readers who personally know me, know that I’m not a disgruntled Republican with a petulant axe to grind. I’m a solid Libertarian, with a principled belief in adhering to constitutional tenets, and a deep concern for the preservation of individual freedoms. I almost never vote for Republicans, rather against Democrats. My gripe in today’s blog is that the press should hold both parties equally accountable, and bring back the journalistic standards they abandoned somewhere around the Kennedy administration. Is that a lot to ask? It seems to be almost impossibility these days.

Celebrity Apprentice-- the Diceman Goeth

I like NBC’s “The Apprentice”. Not only do I find it an entertaining show, I have a couple of connections to it as well. First of all I worked on the season that they came to L.A. (I was a transpo driver. Yay! It was a blast!). Secondly, my awesome company, ACN has a relationship with Donald Trump. He’s not only tried to purchase our company several times (Imagine saying no to Donald Trump? I love ACN!), he’s a staunch endorser of our products and our company. So much so, that he’s featuring us and our flagship product, the IRIS 300 videophone, on March 22nd’s episode of “Apprentice”.
So last night I tuned in to see the show, having missed last week’s season opening, just to get primed, and make an assessment of the show. I think Mr. Trump and Mark Burnett made a really good decision when they modified the format to become a celebrity/charity show. I think after several seasons of watching unknown M.B.A.’s vying for a top executive position in TrumpWorld, we were all ready for something new. Kudos on this new format, that’s for sure.
So as I watched this season unfold, and perused this season’s lineup of “celebrities”, I found a few that raised my eyebrows, and left me questioning. Some of the choices were great. Clint Black, Scott Hamilton, Bryan McKnight, even Playmate Brande Roderick were nice picks, and you feel that they bring something to the table. Then you got poker champion Annie Duke, whom at first I thought, “Why her? She’s a celebrity now?” But I realized that I had seen her play before, and in the poker universe, which is huge, she is very well-known and recognizable. Plus, the very nature of her livelihood depends on her being sharp, ruthless, and highly competitive. That made sense. Jesse James added a hip, lowbrow attitude, and certainly fits the contestant profile, having created a successful business before becoming a celebrity (also thanks to a “reality” show). Herschel Walker and Dennis Rodman add a dimension that they bring over from the sports world that is perfect for the show. Both at the top of their respective sports—Walker being no-nonsense, Rodman being pretty much all-nonsense. Ersatz comedian Tom Green was a pleasant surprise. At first I balked at his appearance in the game. I never liked his comedic work; never really understood the guy, and he always seemed to be just kinda out there, like Crispin Glover (who, thank God, is not in this season’s show). But he comes off in the show as being very likeable, and down-to-earth, as well as a serious competitor. He may just be my new favorite contestant. We’ll see… Now we finally get to some of my more questionable picks. First off, a “Deal-Or-No-Deal” model? OK, she’s hot. I mean, really, really hot. But a celebrity? Shrug... Then we get to Khloe Kardashian. This choice totally smacks of her publicist pulling favors to get her some visibility. For some ungodly reason, her sister Kim is now a celebrity, and dammit it’s her turn! OK, I do believe she owns a clothing store, so maybe there is a modicum of reason to bring her onboard, but it still really seems like a publicist’s coup, and nothing more. (By the way, who is her publicist? I need a publicist like that, too!) Ah, next up—Joan Rivers and her now symbiotic daughter, Melissa. What is the deal with these two? Is there no bigger example of unabashed coat-tail riding than this? Having one, and only one of the two would have been fine. Joan is a comedic legend, and a tried-and-true New Yorker, just like The Donald. (Do they still call him that?) Casting Melissa alone, would’ve at least demonstrated that she’s at last made it. The umbilical’s cut. Finally, she’s attained the caché of at least a “Deal-Or-No-Deal” model, or a top female poker player. But to have both Rivers and Rivers on the show together just seems self-indulgent, unnecessary, and let’s face it— kinda creepy.
But, I’ve saved the best for last. Let me preface this by saying that there’s a difference between staying consistent and true to yourself, and just plain being an unevolved, one-note song. Andrew Dice Clay, who made me roll on the floor in hysterical laughter in 1989, seemed about as pointless and irrelevant on 2009’s “Celebrity Apprentice” as anything I could imagine. Despite his best attempts, there was absolutely nothing funny about the guy, and actually, he seemed rather bitter. At the same time, he was acting as a complete primadonna, as if he were still some kind of A-list talent. Actually griping directly to Mr. Trump that there were no free bagels laid out, in a city where you can throw a rock blindfolded and hit a bagel shop! (Pettiness, party of one—your table’s ready!) During a challenge to sell cupcakes, he contributed nothing to the team, and was more concerned about looking cool than suiting up in baking attire with his team; finally ducking out to do a radio show appearance—telling his team he’d promote and bring crowds to their cupcake truck. Because you just can not find crowds in New York City. Subsequently the team lost the cupcake challenge. “The Diceman” also painfully—not once, but twice—directly threw jabs at Mr. Trump that were met with an embarrassing silence, as Donald quickly shifted focus away from Dice. Not only was the embarrassing silence felt in the boardroom, but in the living rooms of millions of Americans watching the show, too. Defending his position, he reminded people that he sold out Madison Square Garden like, three times (in 1989) and finally tried to stave off being ceremoniously “fired” by Mr. Trump by doing mediocre impressions of John Travolta’s “Barbarino” character, and Sylvester Stallone’s “Rocky” character. Timely, cutting-edge stuff. Thankfully, Mr. Trump spared us another week of this torture by dropping his trademark “You’re fired!” on Mr. Diceman. On his way out, a receptionist in Trump Tower shot him down when he asked her for a date as well. Utterly painful—and yet, I feel a certain pity for this deluded has-been. This man is completely clueless.
Hey, Dice—1989 called. They want you back!

A real tough cookie!

As usual, on this season’s 24, if everyone just listened to Jack Bauer for a change, they wouldn’t be in this mess. You’d think after countless presidents and agency heads, they’d learn to at least hear Jack out, but no…
I came into 24 kinda late. When the series first debuted in 2001, I found it hard to get into. The big sell of the show, at the time, was “Oooh, it’s in real-time! Minute-by-minute action!” Yawn. Really? And then the few times I would catch a segment of the show, and see the unstoppable Jack Bauer drive from Northridge down to Long Beach in 10 minutes right in the middle of the day, left me asking, “Have these writers even been on the 405?” It wasn’t until several years later, around 2005 or 2006 to be exact, when I happened to catch a rerun of a later season, with Jack in a stressful chase in the dead of night—with the loveably cute, perennially pouty Chloe O’Brien running comm—did I get reeled in. I then had to go back, and load up my Netflix with all previous seasons to get myself up to speed. I couldn’t watch those episodes fast enough. I learned to throw out all realism, and improbabilities, and just lock into the storylines, plot twists, and action. (Although I still entertain myself with the idea of one of the characters stuck in traffic for an entire episode, and while the action is ongoing, we keep cutting back to him sitting in his car, stressed out and looking at his watch.) I even bought into the idea that Presidents of the United States hang out in hip, chic L.A. way more than stodgy ol’ D.C. Hey, why not?
So I think the writers and producers finally said, “Y’know, after eleventeen seasons of Jack chasing terrorists and embarrassing presidents all over L.A., we should really consider shooting at least one season in D.C.” Which brings us to the current season, where as of this writing, six African soldiers have broken in and taken over the White House, bitch-slapping President Allison Taylor right on cable news! While the plot definitely has me inextricably hooked, I think the problem that I’m having with this season is the portrayal of (presumably) the first female president. Since this hasn’t happened in real life yet (Hang in there Sarah Palin; keep the dream alive!), Hollywood writers are basically left to create a character based on speculation, and a little bit of wishful thinking. So to counter the image of a soft, nurturing and motherly type, the writers have to come up with a strong female figure to portray what they think a female president should be like. I’ve also seen this in other portrayals of female presidents. They try to make her out to be some kind of “tough cookie” no-nonsense type. But it’s not real strength, like a Margaret Thatcher or a Golda Meir. It’s Hollywood toughness, which is basically constant yelling, and chewing out your subordinates. It’s being stubborn and unreasonable just to prove a point. It’s for the actress to always look stern and cold, as though she’s in a constant state of disdain. And don’t forget that she always occupies the moral high ground. By invading the fictitious African nation of Sengala to stop a sadistic general’s genocidal army, President Allison Taylor is showing us how we should’ve handled Rwanda and Darfour. (Not Iraq, of course, with its discoveries of mass graves all over the country. There’s oil in Iraq, so therefore it’s strictly hands off.) When trying to catch the main terrorist in a city of 5 million, she barks at her staff, “I don’t care how you find him, just get it done! (Except, don’t let Jack torture anybody. Or break any rules. Or leave a carbon footprint.)” The eunuch that’s running the F.B.I. section of this case is a perfect example of this flaccid method of dealing with evil in our nation.
As usual, Jack Bauer has the last laugh. Although he doesn’t laugh, cuz everyone’s dead. I kinda hope they kill off this president. That would be the kind of shock and intrigue that makes this show so gripping to watch. Maybe, next season, Jack Bauer will be president! He has my vote!

Cut me a little slack…

OK, American Idol has been on for like, four weeks now right? And I haven’t blogged about it at all. (So, I haven’t really blogged about anything, but oh well…) Anyway, I couldn’t resist any longer, as last night’s departure of the utterly repugnant Tatiana Del Toro filled me with so much rich, tasty schädenfreude, I felt a little bit guilty! (Well, just a little…) Her pathetic plea to the nation, “Please help me keep my dream alive!” just didn’t seem to inspire the voting audience members to push the digits in her favor. I knew she couldn’t survive last night’s three out of twelve odds, and I was almost drooling in anticipation of her meltdown as the results unfolded. While the other eight booted contestants graciously contained their disappointment, and gave smiles and congrats to the three winners, Miss Del Toro could barely lift her head from her hands, and couldn’t even join the others in the ending lineup; her dreams of fame, adoration, and a lifestyle of ease and privilege evaporating and fading out like the last notes of a over-played song. I was in fact, a little disappointed in her meltdown. I was hoping--in dramatic Tatiana fashion--her screaming and collapsing on the floor, writhing and kicking right in center stage. That way, she might’ve at least garnered a parting news story blip to cap off her fifteen minutes.
Since the show began, Miss Del Toro had demonstrated an inner ugliness and an unbridled quest for sheer fame that stood out even in a TV show built upon unbridled quests for sheer fame. She presented herself as someone who was entitled to the top Idol spot, with the other contestants annoyingly crowding her stage and her TV show. After she survived the “Group Week”, having dumped her original group, joined another group, and then dumped them for her first group; she launched a babbling monologue about how everyone on the planet was part of her and her world quest for fame. Her fellow group members, whom she was oblivious to even though they were standing arm-in-arm, were looking on incredulously. Priceless!
The truth is, little miss Tatiana shot herself in the foot. She actually could sing fairly well, and probably could’ve held her own if she only didn’t present herself to the voting public as such an ugly parody of Idol aspirants. The show does attract an element of raw ambition, greed, and self-promotion combined with a genuine display of talent, heart, and grace. So as embarrassed as I am to say it, (I’ve overcome my embarrassment for even liking the show a long time ago) I did relish the television demise of Tatiana Del Toro gleefully, perhaps even a little too much. Oh well… I broke the seal. Let’s see what happens next week!
Shoehead… OUT!

Friday the 13th...

What an awesome day. I feel like putting on a goalie mask, grabbing my chainsaw and going crazy!!!
Well, I was off work the past few days, very sick. I heard that the inmates in my program are trying to get by without me. The one cool thing about working in a prison, is that you get to say cool things like, "The yard is down" and "acute fog--limited inmate movement" like I'm on that TV show, OZ or something. Except it's a women's prison! Even better!. I'm going back in tomorrow to do our saturday programming. This is pretty laid back. We only run three groups on Saturdays, with only like 30 inmates all day. The rest of the time is just chillin' and getting paperwork caught up. (I remember when I used to be cool and fun-- what happened???)

It's almost time for me to get back to work on a Hollywood production. I'm jonesin' to get back on set. I'll have to see if my friends in MRG Entertainment are filming "Co-ed Confidential season 4" yet! It'll be good to see my old pals...