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11:28:58 - 2001-01-06

CRAZY OLD MEN ARE SCARIER THAN THE WAYANS BROTHERS

Soooo...I watched "Scary Movie" last night.

The scariest thing about that movie is that I actually plunked down $16 for the DVD of that horrendous batch of walrus shit.

I've said it before and I'll say it again...the Wayans Brothers are about as funny as cancer.

They proved that when they hosted the MTV Movie Awards last year. For three hours we at home watched as these two did jokes that only they thought was funny. Even the live audience was dead when they came on stage.

Now then...whose ass is the Wayans family licking in order to stay in Hollywood?

I would think that the oldest brother Keenan Ivory Wayans has the pull there, because he seems to be the most serious of the brood. He's always "The Director"...the guy who takes no "guff" ... the "Head Man" ... the "flighty bastard".

But what in THE HELL has this guy ever done to allow his insanely unfunny brothers to have jobs?

And mansions?

And Mercedes Benzs?

The answer Alex is...What is "Nothing".

My God. I'm still reeling from how unfunny that film was.

I'm planning on taking it back to the used DVD store that I bought it in and telling the guy the disc is defective...it's missing all the funny scenes.

The sad part is...I coulda done a MUCH BETTER job writing a "Scary Movie" script.

Trust me.

My only downfall is that I wasn't blessed with having an older brother who's willing to go to Hollywood and suck off every major producer in town until he found someone who appreciated his oral techniques and penciled his little brother in on the company payroll.

Fucking Wayans Brothers.

The sad part is...they have no idea how unfunny they really are. They think they're the Messiahs of comedy.

I just wanna beat 'em in the head for a few hours. Maybe then I'd feel better...

___________________________________

I guess I never mentioned (probably because you don't care)... Andy went in for his two-month checkup Thursday.

He now weighs 12 lbs. 10 oz. If he was made of cocaine, he'd be worth a fortune.

He's grown another inch in length (once again...all penis).

....Aaaaaand....he received his first three shots.

Holy Jesus ... you woulda thought he was told he'd have to watch "Scary Movie".

That kid cried like Tammy Faye Baker going through valium withdrawals.

I felt really bad for him, but what kinda parent would I be if I NEVER allowed any doctor to give my boy vaccinations??

...Apparently a pretty cool one in Andy's eyes. Sure...he might get a little polio...but at least he was spared that 30 seconds of pain.

So anyway...the kid was a trooper. By the time we had gotten him dressed and out of the doctor's office, he had stopped crying.

Got in the car ... no crying.

Got home ... no crying.

Put in "Scary Movie" ... the kid went ape shit.

He did have a few fussy moments late Thursday night. One of those fussy moments lasted almost four hours.

Last night, he was a joy. He was all recuperated from the shots and ready for a round of "BIG BOY!!!"

Soooo...we played "BIG BOY!!!" until he puked all over me from excitement.

Thanks son. If I had your amazing regurgitating powers, I'd puke right back on you.

___________________________________

I had a couple of people make me feel bad yesterday.

Army...attack.

Actually ... one guy didn't make me feel so bad. I made myself feel bad over that one guy.

I got a call a few days ago asking if I'd mind interviewing two people who have been canoeing down rivers since September who would be making a stop in our city. The call was pretty vague about what these two people were doing, but I agreed to meet with the two people.

As it turns out, they were big into the environment and were trying to spread the word that we all need to take better care of our rivers.

In a word...boring.

Yes, the rivers need to be taken care of.

But hey...that's not my job.

Maybe I just wasn't into the interview at all. Maybe I felt duped.

But I just did NOT conduct a decent interview.

I was tired.

Cranky.

Bloated.

And did not feel like scribbling frantically while a hippie who hasn't showered in four months tells me about toxins and sediments.

I spent about 30 minutes with the guy and gal and then told them I had enough material for a story.

Truthfully, I didn't. I guess I went down there under the impression that these would be two would be fun loving kids just out to break a record or something.

I had no idea I'd be interviewing somebody with a passion for telling people to clean up rivers.

"It's everybody's duty to keep our rivers clean," the guy said at one point.

I tend to disagree.

I haven't been near a river in years. When I am near a river, I don't throw burning tires into it.

Thus...in my book...I've done my duty.

These two are trying to organize community river clean-up parties.

Oh yeah. Put some kids on the bank of a raging river and have them pick up rat carcasses.

Spread the word, my brother.

Personally, I think there are a whole lot more issues more important for a community to come together on than cleaning up rivers.

Aren't there people hired to keep the rivers cleaned??

I'm sorry, but I don't go out into the community and say "I'm having trouble writing a column this week...anybody else wanna take a stab at it??"

We're all hired to do our own jobs. If everyone does their job, the world keeps spinning.

If people that are supposed to be cleaning up rivers aren't cleaning up rivers, let's can their asses and get somebody in there who's one bad mamma jamma of a river cleaner.

How tough is that?

So anyway...I think I let the couple down by giving them a half-assed interview.

THE SECOND GUY....oh man...this was a trip.

Yesterday about 11 a.m. I get a call at the office.

Apparently, months ago, this crazy old man called me to tell me that his son was a missionary in Africa and he wanted to know if we could put something in the paper about the guy.

I said "sure...not a problem".

So he calls back yesterday and says the story is ready and he wants to bring it to me.

I tell him that I'm on my way out the door for lunch, but I'd be back about 1.

He asks where I'm going to lunch and he'd like to meet me there.

Okay...automatically, this tells me the guy is a weirdo.

I tell him I'm going home for lunch and to just meet me at the office at 1.

He's dejected, but agrees.

At 1:05 p.m., I'm paged to the front of the building.

Crazy old man is here.

I swear to you...his hair was all over his head and hadn't been brushed in years.

He hadn't shaved in days.

He was wearing pajamas and slippers with a heavy coat over them.

I go up front, shake his hand and he starts bitching about one of our salespeople who didn't know I was in the building and had told the man I wasn't there.

He was PISSED about that.

Anyway, he comes back to my office and opens our competition's newspaper, which he has taped photos all over.

It was obvious that he took great pains to make sure all the photos looked right. He had so much scotch tape over the photos that there was no way they would reproduce in the paper.

He then pulls out his "Story" which was a bunch of notes scribbled on some paper.

He then asked how much I'd pay him for this work.

Okay...in the newspaper business, if you want to SUBMIT an article for publication, and it's worthy ... we'll run it.

You DON'T get paid for it. You get your name and story in print and you can cut it out and put it in a scrapbook and tell everyone that you're a published writer...but you DON'T get paid for it.

I told him I couldn't pay him for it.

THE GUY WENT BONKERS.

He told me that I was unprofessional, my company was unprofessional, my secretary was unprofessional ... and our competition was unprofessional as well, because they wouldn't even agree to run the story.

He asked me if I was a professional writer. I said I was. He asked me if I expected to get paid for everything I write. I told him "not everything".

He really blew a gasket in the office. It was downright frightening. If he had a gun, I feel sure he would have started shooting.

He bitched at our secretary on his way out and lit into a salesperson as well, telling them that they were very unprofessional.

...This coming from a man who shows up for an appointment wearing pajamas and looking like he just rolled out of bed.

I guess the world needs crazy people too.

I just wish I had better luck in avoiding their wrath.

Have a great day. I'm going back to bed.

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