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...

Happy Birthday, Abe Lincoln!

2oo years old... thanks for all you did!

One word for this whole thing-- fanaticism.

I know a lot of people are gonna hate me for this, but I really have to speak my mind. I think the scariest thing about the whole Obama thing is the cultish enthusiasm built up around this guy. The only word that comes to mind is fanaticism. People are practically orgasmic over the inauguration festivities, including good friends of mine. (I hope they still remain friends of mine. Great scorn and ostracism are traditionally lavished upon those who oppose the cult by the members of that cult.) Few people are balking at the $100 million+ price tag for this week-long bacchanal, when Bush’s $40 million inauguration was met with criticism, and “how many starving kids would this feed” or “how much education would this pay for” rhetoric. Every nuance of Obie’s coronation is celebrated and marveled at. At the same time, these people still can’t resist throwing jabs at President Bush even in the final moments of his administration. Now, I didn’t support every policy decision Mr. Bush made during his eight years, but I never felt a hatred for the guy like what was heaped upon him right up until the final moments of his term. Conversely, I never felt a devotion to him like Obie’s legions have for their guy either. I don’t think any president of the United States should garner a cult-like following. Even JFK, if you strip away his cultish mystique really was a C- president. (At least he cut taxes. OK, I’ll give him a C+) Good ol’ Jack gave us Vietnam, screwed over the Cuban freedom fighters at The Bay of Pigs, and ushered in LBJ and his “Great Society”. Great. But with lofty speeches, a stylish wife, and an adoring media, he has become an American icon, and-- due to an assassin’s bullet-- an American martyr!
OK, now I’m screwed. I criticized Obama and JFK’s hallowed image in the same blog! I hope I sill have some friends left. Hello… anyone?

Happy Birthday, Grandma!

Me and Hildegard Paar (January 13, 1907--July 28, 1997)

My maternal grandmother, Hilda Paar, would've been 102 this year. Yay, Grandma! This is a picture of her and me (as a dork) in 1994.

Civility? Wha…?

This week, I had the pleasure of witnessing two altercations over some real silly stuff. OK, one included me as an unwilling participant, but still I’m trying to process (a new word I learned as a counselor) this out.
The first happened Saturday afternoon, as I was gassing up. It was rather busy, and there was a car waiting behind me, and one in front of me. I really failed to notice which had gotten there first, but as I finished, the car behind me sent his girl running up to swipe her debit card to claim the pump. Meanwhile, the car in front pulled into the spot. I had just pulled into a parking space, because I went inside to get a beverage. As I looked behind me, both parties were standing around the pump arguing. Pity… I never did get to see the outcome of that incident.
The second one happened this afternoon, about an hour ago. I had just finished picking up some supplies at Wal-Mart (this should tell you something right away), and I pulled my car out into the parking lane, waiting to exit the lot. There was somewhat of a jam toward the lot’s entrance, so I waited behind a minivan. As I sat waiting, it occurred to me that the minivan was not moving. Several cars were lined up behind me by this point, and I thought perhaps the minivan had broken down or something. But that was not the case. The driver was just waiting for one particular spot to clear out. After about seven minutes or so, the car behind me honked his horn, and tried to go around me. I honked my horn as well, because I was starting to get a little impatient. Finally, the car pulled out of the spot, and the minivan pulled into it, giving me a glaring look as she did. So then I pulled up, and was waiting to leave, the 14-year-old kid that was in the car came up to me and said, “You need to learn patience!” I looked at him and shot back, “You need to learn not to be so selfish!” Not wanting to leave it at that, I wished him “Happy Holidays”, and took off out of that infernal lot.
Like I said, I’ve been processing that for the whole afternoon. OK, maybe I was a little impatient, but why would someone hold up five cars just to get a close spot? There just seems to be an overall lack of civility in our society now. I’m also afraid it’ll get worse, as people seem to have an entitlement mentality, and a disregard for others. As if nobody else exists, or has any rights to common courtesy. “Me first, screw you!” is the new mantra. Let’s see how this new era of audacity plays out…

Doing the next-to-impossible!

I set myself a huge set of goals, that I can only meet with the help of the Lord Almighty! It can definitely be accomplished, but for me, it'll be a tough act; requiring more discipline than I've ever had to conjure up before. Here's my twin goals: Executive Team Leader by December 31 (and max out my bonus) and Team Coordinator by March 15 (Again, maxing out my bonus!) If everything goes my way, with God's help, I'll have made $10K and positioned myself to explode when NBC's "Celebrity Apprentice" features ACN on March 22, and Mexico opens up a few weeks after that.
Ready, set, PRAY! Then WORK! Then PRAY some more!
See y'all at the TOP!

Back from ACN Anaheim Convention

As I returned from the amazing Anaheim event, I took a moment to process the experience, and I took away a few insights from the weekend. First of all, I realized that ACN is more than just a company, more than a business. ACN is a family. Every one of the 20,000 attendees actually cared about every single other one in there! I met some of the friendliest, the most committed and the most dedicated people I’ve ever met in my life. I felt like, “These are my people… I’m home!” Every person I met, from all over the world offered to help me develop my team; offering to me any assistance I might need. When I saw people succeed that I’ve never even met, I felt the emotion, and the whole room felt it as well. The senior executives were just as approachable and took time and gave advice and their time to anyone who asked.

The second thing I took away from the event is how ACN is always looking for ways to make our company better; adding the best services and improving both our products and our company infrastructure to be the absolute best, and the most helpful to make all our reps succeed. The four co-founders really do care about every single person that signs a rep agreement. I could tell by watching them, and hearing them speak; as well as first-hand sources that these men are 100% for real. Donald Trump took an instant liking to our co-founders because of their vision, determination and integrity. And as one can imagine, Mr. Trump is such a busy man, that his time is quite limited and valuable. His friendship with our co-founders, and his endorsement of our company is a testament to the excellence, success, vision, and determination of ACN.

The third thing I took away from the event is that as much fun as I had, and the excitement I felt amongst my people, I did spend a lot of time by myself. Some of the members of my team didn’t make it, and my own personal downline is just getting off the ground. So what I learned is, these conventions are way more fun if you bring people, and have a team in place. As I grow my own team, I’m gonna express the importance of these international trainings, and bring my team to all events. It really is a phenomenon that can’t be explained unless you go there yourself. And it’s my commitment to never miss another international. I missed Robert Kiyosaki this past March, and I missed Donald Trump this past June, and I’m kicking myself to this day.

So these are a few insights I took back with me from ACN Anaheim 2008. I’m so excited for the possibilities, and the opportunities that 2009 is gonna bring!

The perils of having an unusual last name...

OK, so I got from my Netflix the video "Kemper" that I worked on last year. Since the Lovely Mrs. Shoehead was busy doing... whatever the hell she does, so I just skipped around a little bit to see some highlights and catch the credits. And they spelled my name wrong! They stuck an extra "L" in my name, making it "Mark Eldrys" instead of "Edrys" ...The Horror!
Oh, well... I'm used to my name getting butchered or miscredited in film credits. That's what happens with my last name. The film does look pretty good though. I also want to see MRG Entertainment's "Copycat-- Diary of a Serial Killer" that we worked on last December. "Kemper" has the trailer on it, and it looks pretty awesome too!

Life without water…

Ok, now this really sucks. Last week, I discovered that a small leak from the outside water pipe had gone from a mild seeping to a full-blown spraying. It was soaking my back porch and flowing down under the house into the crawl-space. The worst part about it, is that there’s a cut off valve right there, and I could shut the water on and off as I need to, but the cracked pipe is—of course—below the valve. Naturally!
Since I’ve been working a lot of hours, and the Lovely Mrs. Shoehead was on another of her trips, I had no time to try and fix it. We had the City shut off the water. So all week, I’ve been showering at my gym, and using gallon bottled water to survive. It’s like being on a camping trip in your own home! What fun! Anyway, I’m so over it, and today I’m gonna do my best Bob Vila impression, and try to fix the pipe! Yay!
Wish me luck...

I'm not depressed...

One of my awesome readers thought my last post sounded kinda depressing. Actually, I'm really doing OK. I think I was in a bad mood when I last blogged. That should be my new rule: Don't blog in a crappy mood! Otherwise, everything's cool. It was a nice day in Ventura yesterday, and Thanksgiving was a blast! I demonstrated my new IRIS 3000 video phone for my friends, and it was amazing. This phone technology is gonna be the bomb! I think it'll be one of the hottest items in 2009. I'm still stoked about ACN, and all the cool things that company's doing. The convention in Anaheim is gonna be amazing!
So nobody start slipping Prozac™ into my milkshakes just yet, OK?

Thanksgiving... wowzy-wowzy woo woo!

OK, I'm not a whole lot thankful this year. But let's see... Things could be worse, and they will be. I'm thankful for the movie "The Warriors". That movie always amuses me. I'm thankful for really good coffee. Always. I'm thankful I still have all my organs and my major appendages. (And some minor ones, too!) I'm thankful for my Italian Greyhound, Bocce Ball. I'm thankful for my home business ACN , which is just starting to take off, and is my ticket out of the doldrums. I'm thankful I still have both parents, and all my siblings and 2 cool nephews.
OK, time to catch my traditional Thanksgiving's eve buzz, and get ready for turkey day!!!
Yay!!!

OK, I'm back!

So I got over the whole election thing. Thank God at least we're (for the moment) not bombarded with all those crappy political messages.
Life in Firebaugh is still pretty much the same. Working in a women's prison is about as fun as it sounds. Life goes on, at least for the moment. Yee-HA!!!
Time for some New England clam chowder! Mmmmmmmm...

Way to go, Republicans....

Since my party, the Libertarian Party, has about the political effectiveness as a chess club, I've been counting on you Republicans to stave off the ravenous encroachments of the Democrat party. And you continue to let me down, time and time again! I knew our collective goose was cooked when you nominated that crusty RINO John McCain. While I appreciate your military service, Johnny, and the sacrifice you endured in the Hanoi Hilton, HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU LOSE TO THAT UNABASHED MARXIST REDISTRIBUTIONIST TURD OBAMA??? WHO'S ACCOMPLISHED NOTHING IN HIS WHOLE CAREER EXCEPT EXTORTING MONEY THROUGH A.C.O.R.N., HANGS OUT WITH RACISTS, ANTI-AMERICAN RADICALS AND TERRORISTS, AS WELL AS CHICAGO GANGSTERS??? WHO GOT SO CONFIDENT AGAINST YOUR TEPID CAMPAIGN THAT HE BARELY EVEN BOTHERED TO MASK HIS SOCIALIST INTENTIONS TOWARD THE END OF HIS CAMPAIGN??? ARE YOU FREAKIN' KIDDING ME???
JEEZ!!!

I HATE POLITICS!!!

What can I say? I really don't like any of the candidates. I can't stand politics, and yet this stupid election is getting crammed down our throats every minute of every day. Obama is so confident he's already won, that he's beginning to speak his mind; throwing out his socialistic plans to re-make our country in his own Marxist image. McCain, true to form fails to capitalize on Obama's redistributionist rhetoric, and plods along doing his best to lose to probably the most beatable presidential candidate ever fielded. I just feel like whichever of these schmucks wins, we all still lose.
Where can I go and hide out, unbothered for the next ten years or so?

In Exile...

Since mid-may, when our cable got cut off, and my internet access is at the mercy of the public library, and/or Kinko's, my blogging has definitely suffered. I feel like one of those governments-in-exile, trying to make my voice heard undire limited circumstances. Last week, I'd written a tribute blog about Paul Newman, and the servers at the library wouldn't let me log in to Blogger. I still have the blog entry on my flash drive, so I'll post it still; probably next week. I'm close to getting caught up and re-starting my cable and internet in Casa Shoehead. I can't wait! til then, I'm learning how to make wooden toy arrows, to cash in on some of that BULLSHIT bailout plan, that takes 700 BILLION dollars from some Americans, and gives it to others. Don't get me started. As our freedoms get flushed down the cosmic shitter every day, I'm trying to chart a new course for my life. Wish me luck...

Firebaugh looks the same...

So I just returned from Miami last night, and I'm looking at my small town, and realizing--"WOW, it's like night and day!" From crazy partying Miami to this tiny town is quite a culture shock. If Miami wasn't so damn humid, I'd move there tomorrow. The humidity turned me into a sweaty dripping mess every single day. It was embarassing! I was on the "Co-ed Confidential 3" set, surrounded by beautiful ladies, on both cast and crew, and I was a dripping mess! Ouch!
I flew out of Miami, with a stopover in Charlotte. There was just enough time for me to have a Bojangles biscuit. Yummy! I haven't had one since I lived in Richmond back in the 90's! I landed in LAX, and didn't even have to wait 5 minutes for the Van Nuys Flyaway shuttle. Then, from Van Nuys, it was up the 405 to the 5, and three hours later I'm in Firebaugh. It seems surreal, after two weeks in Miami, somehow Firebaugh seems both different, and yet still the same. There are a couple of palm trees around here, but still... Maybe if they opened a good Cuban restaurant, and I could find a great mojito, that'd make some kind of difference!

Back to Co-ed Confidential...

So for the past week and a half I've been down in Miami shooting season 3 of "Co-ed Confidential". I heard our show was popular, but I didn't realize exactly how popular it was. Apparently, it's the #1 rated show on Cinemax! Yee--HAW! It's great to see my buddy Kevin Patrick, and the ever-cute and sexy Michelle Maylene, as well as Bradley Joseph and a whole new set of faces.
So it's 9am here in Miami, and we have today and tomorrow to shoot. The crew is then going back to L.A. to finish up, but I'm actually going to return to my regular gig in the women's prison. Miami sure was fun though! I'll post up some pics later, for all you "Co-ed" fans!
~Ciao!

The Catfather?

This morning, the Lovely Mrs. Shoehead woke up to a scene reminiscent of The Godfather’s hapless movie producer Woltz waking up with the head of his prized Arabian horse Khartoum’s bloody severed head nestled in his bed. As she was waking up, she noticed a strange little lumpy thing underneath her. As she pulled back the blankets, there was revealed… a dead mouse! Flattened, and staining the sheets with its life blood and other vital fluids, the small rodent was apparently a gift offered in tribute by one of our ever-increasing number of cats that have taken up residence at Casa Shoehead.
The feline presence in my domicile began with Starva, the matriarch of the clan. She enjoyed a peaceful and solitary existence for many years, until June, 2006 and the arrival of Missy Cleopatra. Missy was in a cage at our vet’s office for about two days with an “adopt me’ sign on the outside of the cage. The story on the sign told how she was found by one of the vet’s staff in a pillowcase in an apartment dumpster! She was such a cute little black furball, just climbing and playing around in her cage, we just had to take her home with us. At first, there was friction between Starva, and the young upstart Missy, but soon things were worked out into a sort of détente. About a year later, in the summer of 2007, a couple of alley cats started coming around our outside staircase crying for food. One of them had an injured tail, and he was the most affectionate of the alley cats. Soon, he showed up daily and I made sure he got a good meal, and sometimes some milk! When the decision was made to move out of Oxnard in November 2007, Mrs. Shoehead and I felt that we just couldn’t leave “Cat-tail” (as he was now called), behind to take his chances with the increasingly dangerous neighborhood. Yippee! Cat #3! There was still plenty of room at the new house, as well as a spacious yard so that all three cats (plus two dogs) could co-habitate, although to Starva’s chagrin.
A few short weeks later, at a Christmas trip to her auntie’s house, the Lovely Mrs. Shoehead noticed another little kitten, a grey tiger-striped cat, hanging around the front doorstep, unheeded and un-cared for. Naturally, as animal lovers, we felt obligated to take this on in, too. We kept him in the same room as Cat-tail, segregated from the other cats until they could all get acclimated to one another. Buster, as the new addition came to be called, and Cat-tail got along great. The older, seasoned alley cat, took the young cat under his protection, almost like a little brother. He still to this day hangs out with Buster and protects him from the dogs. Our first attempt at integrating the newer boy cats to the established girl cats resulted in buster scampering under the house, and deciding to take up permanent residence there. He comes out from his hole every morning at seven am and every night around 10 pm for his feeding, under the watchful eye of his big brother, Cat-tail.
This was pretty much how it went on through most of 2008, but one day in mid-August, I went out to feed Buster, and there was a tan tiger-striped cat, even smaller than Buster! Crying, hungry and scared, I fed him—wondering if he was here to stay, or just passing through. (Many neighborhood cats jump over our fence and visit Casa Shoehead. We must be a hot-spot in the cat circuit!) As he basically never left, and hung around our back porch for the next couple of days, we decided to take him in and clean him up a little bit. He was covered with fleas, and had ear-mites, so we took care of that, and we helped him to get nourished, too. He’s recovering nicely, and as it turns out he’s got a great personality—very playful and loving. Our Italian Greyhound, Bocce, took an instant like to him. Bocce kisses him and tries to play with him as often as he can, and the kitten’s not scared in the least. Last week, Mrs. Shoehead named him Vanilla Bean, or Beanie for short. So, cat #5 has arrived!
So, in regards to this morning’s incident with the poor little mouse, we’re trying to determine which cat was the culprit. Was it an offer of tribute from Missy Cleopatra, who’s trying to retain her position with her human overlords as #2 cat in the household? Or was it Cat-tail, trying to exert his influence with the humans and move up in household rank? A long-shot says it was Starva, trying to prove she’s still a viable force in the cat organization. Unlikely, but still an option. Ruled out are Buster, who almost never comes in the house any more, and Bean, who’s still under quarantine in what’s now the “cat room”. If the cats could talk, it would make the investigation much easier, but as it is, it may never be solved. Meanwhile Mrs. Shoehead is still highly freaked out.