There's this company that works on the same floor as me, and although I don't know the name of it, I get the feeling it's a boiler room scenario.
This is based on the fact that most of the workers are men who walk the common areas with head-sets attached, and when I encounter groups of them in the bathroom, there is testosterone in the air combined with a distinct lack of social skills that extend beyond money, grunting, unprovoked bravado and uninspired penis jokes.
Occasionally it's semi-funny, but most of the time it is fairly boring.
A large number of them also seem to smoke, which has led the group to set up a several chairs in the underground parking garage where they sit in a semi-circle and fire 'em up.
I pulled in after lunch today, and was standing outside my car when I heard one of them say:
"That's easy - a goat. No question about it."
I figured they were playing some game about which people looked like which animal or if they were an animal what would they be.
This was incorrect.
"You're right because a goat's not too big and not too small. It's just right. I'd fuck a goat too."
"No way. It depends on the season. Winter it's a sheep without a doubt."
"Fuck that. I'll take a pig anytime just to say to it 'Now squeal like a pig'".
"That would be a good choice."
"What about a ferret?"
"Too small. Lots of little teeth."
Unfortunately, I had a meeting to attend because I was curious how the discussion ended and which beast won (or lost) the ultimate battle.
Personally I would go big like say a walrus:
{Editor's note: I've had this picture saved for no good reason for 3 months, and now I finally get to use it}
It also got me thinking a bit about it as there's something inherently filthy and yet funny about bestiality. Hell, the word itself even sounds funny as I laugh nearly anytime someone says it, and if I were to ever do a spoof of "Jerry Maguire" a good line might be "You had me at bestiality."
Or maybe not.
It's not something you could hang a movie around as it's a one-trick pony (pun intended), but it did make me smile for the rest of the afternoon.
-BDS
Rumor has it that Jessica Simpson and John Mayer are currently making sweet (or overly-dramatic hooey depending on your point of view) music together. 
It has also been reported that both singers have recently come down with a case of laryngitis, which makes one wonder if anything else has been transmitted back and forth but that is purely speculation.
I own Mayer's first album even though I haven't actually listened to it for more than a year.
He can be a semi-funny guy during interviews, however, I still can't entirely forgive him for writing, singing and performing that treachly, maudlin, and amazingly awful song "Mothers."
Although I do have a wonderful mother, I do not have any daughters that I know of running around and regardless I find the song to be grating and obvious.
Obviously others don't share my opinion because I believe it won a Grammy a few years ago, thus giving me another reason not to care about nor watch the Grammy Awards.
I am curious what pushed Mayer over-the-top in the Simpson bonanza, and I'm sure Zach Braff would really like to know as he supposedly did everything short of begging to woo Simpson over the summer. 
It must be a personality or size thing because I just realized that Braff and Mayer share a decent physical likeness of one another. 
Regardless, I put the over/under on this relationship to be about 6 months give or take a Joe Simpson intervention.
-BDS
Today was a better day at work as I only encountered one putrid stench that made me want to shove Kleenex up my nostrils and a giant cork into the ass of the poor beast who dropped his unholy load into the 3rd floor section B bathroom.
But enough shit talk as drugs were the order of the day. 
It's not how it sounds as this might be Austin, but it's not that liberal of a city.
Instead, it has to do with the rash of supplements I'm taking for my diet which have become so prolific that they now consume 1/8th of my desk. This wouldn't be such a bad thing if:
A) I didn't have them all in Ziploc baggies
B) The chocolate protein powder didn't look like heroin ("Heroin Frank heroin. That's a pretty tall order Nordberg, you'll have to give me a couple of days on that one.")
C) My glutamine powder didn't look like cocaine
I hadn't really considered how this might appear until the evening cleaning person came to empty my trash and gave me a knowing and secretive smile as he glanced at the stash on my desk.
Following his gaze, it suddenly occurred to me that this guy didn't think I was working late on business, but rather I was hanging around to sniff and/or snort my way to oblivion.
By the time this thought occurred to me the old man had shuffled off and I wasn’t going to chase him down and tell him urgently that he was wrong and that he better keep his mouth shut or I would find him and make him pay.
No.
This would have only made me look more guilty, and he might have called the cops thinking I'd already danced with the white devil. Besides, I try to keep my terrorizing of children and old people to a bare minimum and only when they really deserve it.
In the end, it was better that I simply went back to my work and I did - until I started thinking about drugs and their demographic usage groups.
I have no statistics to back this up, but here are my thoughts:
1) Pot - This spans a variety of people from college stoners to personal trainers to executives to suburbanites who like a little grass with their vodka tonics.
2) Cocaine - Power brokers and Hollywood actors and other people who don't care that it's edgy as hell and leaves you horny and egomaniacal and impotent which is a lethal combination
3) Heroin - Musicians, Young Hollywood and Europeans
4) Mushrooms - Hippies and old-time hippies who live in the desert
5) Booze - Runs the gamut and yes alcohol is a drug
6) E - Club kids who think the answer to life is house music and glow sticks and textures that feel good. Sooo good. 
7) Acid - People that still follow Grateful Dead cover bands 
8) Crack - Whitney Houston and city folk
9) Meth - Country folk
Again, this is a highly unscientific and I refuse to be quoted about it; especially because I've got to keep one eye on this cleaning person because I know he's watching me.
-BDS
My office building is 4 stories tall and boasts 3 different sections.
I usually walk around the various buildings quite frequently to use different bathrooms as I enjoy the exercise, and it gets me away from my desk for awhile.
But today the walks were absolute shit - literally. 
It must have been a hearty weekend around Austin because the odors emanating from nearly every bathroom I tried today were so foul that it would bring tears to your eyes.
I tried different levels, buildings and times, but nothing could deflect that smell of defeat and burritos that hung in the air.
Most of the time the actual culprit was gone, however, one sick bastard was talking on his cell phone while taking care of some dirty business.
"Yeah we're still on for tonight downtown."
"You betch your ass I'm gonna call her."
"Lots of paperwork today."
If lots of paperwork meant depositing what seemed like a large Frito pie and a six-pack of Shiner Boch into the toilet then maybe he was being truthful, but I didn't stick around to find out as I consider this form of multi-tasking to be flat-out ridiculous. 
Another guy was blowing up the toilet while humming.
This scared me more than the cell phone talker because there seemed to be a distinct rhythm to his voice. It was almost like he was meditating or offering some sort of musical prayer to the gods of feces.
And I was terrified that if the deity actually answered the call that the entire room might combust because the stench was horrible and smelled like an enchilada sampler gone terribly awry.
There were several other phantom shitters in other restrooms, and this was pretty much a microcosm of my day.
I kept thinking to myself that Mondays are bad enough without having to worry what might be lurking behind every bathroom door in the building.
Maybe next time I'll just take a leak in the fountain outside.
-BDS
I have nothing against Ashton Kutcher.
He was perfectly fine playing an air-headed himbo in "That 70s Show" and despite his frequently irritating between skit monologues on "Punk'd," the actual pranks were fairly entertaining (loved when Justin Timerlake almost broke down crying on the first season).
His movies have been mostly extensions of the same slacker-doofus-moron character that he cultivated during the '70s' as "Dude, Where's My Car?" "Just Married," "My Boss's Daughter" and others have ranged from passable to putrid.
Kutcher was recently on the cover of "Details" magazine under some title about being the world's best husband. 
And after reading the piece, the headline might indeed be true if being hen-pecked, extremely accomodating and most importantly a good accesory are the criteria.
A large part of the relationship seems built around dressing as Kutcher has quickly realized how things work at the Moore house.
He's learned to ask "How do you feel in it {outfit}? This is the most important thing. Because is she feels good, you're going to have a good night. If she doesn't, you're not."
One his proudest accomplishments was the wet bar that was recently installed in their walk-in closet "where he often sits on the sofa getting an early-evening buzz on, with one eye on the game, while Demi gets dressed to go out."
It's not all drinking and watching TV, however, as Kutcher must also pay strict attention to the colors of the evening.
"I'll go, 'So you're wearing brown?" Kutcher says. "Then I know, I 've got to either go for a brown or khaki suit. you could go navy, too. If she's wearing black, you just wear black. Matching is not her job. It's yours. you're the purse."
I think it's possible to be attentive and affectionate towards your wife without also putting your balls into her purse, but to each his own.
Somehow I just don't see Bruce Willis playing this same role when he was married to Moore as he would dress as individually as his personality. 
Obviously, Bruce and Demi didn't make it, and there is a price to pay for individuality as this outfit is atrocious.
Despite all that, I came away feeling somewhat sorry for Kutcher because even if he loves his current situation, sometimes a man just needs to wear what he feels is necessary - even if that turns out to be a suit made out of stop-light red material.
-BDS
After seeing "Snakes On A Plane" last weekend, I felt that I needed to regain some karmic cinematic balance, and so I changed things up with "The Illusionist."
1) I generally dislike period pieces even if they are good movies. There is just something about the costumes and pagentry that seems so staged, which causes me to then distance myself from the action and emotion of the production. This movie, however, sucked me in pretty well after the initial adjustment to the surroundings.
2) Edward Norton is simply one of the best actors working today. He's still young, but he's already turned in some top-notch work in "Rounders," "Fight Club," "Primal Fear," "American History X," and others. He doesn't disappoint here, and the movie doesn't take off until he enters the fray. 
3) Luckily, Paul Giamatti is also in the film as it's always a good time to watch two very good actors play against each other. 
4) I thought Jessica Biel might be blown away by these two leads, but she held her own. I've always thought very highly of her looks, but her actual acting ability was questionable (let's not forget she was in that horrible piece of garbage "Stealth" fairly recently). This role wasn't large, and but she still performed better than I expected.
5) This is one of those movies with a bit of a mystery and a gotcha moment. It doesn't really succeed that well in this regard as the conclusion is fairly obvious for a large part of the film. Despite knowing what will likely happen, I was still engrossed along the way.
Overall, "The Illusionist" was a very good, but not a great film. It was definitely a nice antidote to the big summer productions, however, and easily worth a matinee admission for the acting alone as I would pay $6 to watch Norton and Giamatti read the phone book to each other.
That last statement is not entirely true, but you get the point.
-BDS
"I can climb the highest mountain,cross the wildest sea
I can feel St. Elmo's Fire burning in me," - "St Elmo's Fire"
I was running on the treadmill last night when my Ipod shuffled onto the theme song from that classic 80s flick "St. Elmo's Fire."
It still escapes me just when I loaded this beauty onto the machine, however, it didn't change the fact that I instantly felt like I had been transported into some 80s montage movie scene.
As my legs pumped I felt myself being lifted by the sweet, sweet sounds and the lyrical poetry of this song (insert sarcasm here).
But once this fire inside was extinguished, I began to wonder what would be the best 80s movie to be stuck inside.
"St. Elmo's Fire" is not a bad choice as there is drinking, hanging out, Demi Moore talking about Middle Eastern "gang-bangs" and more, but in the end I just couldn't handle being around Andrew McCarthy for such an extended period of time.
That led me to think that "Wall Street" would be the way to go as I would have loved to be Gordon Gekko. 
Who wouldn't want to slick their hair straight back and wear sharp suits to work every day where you spent your time power-brokering the peons beneath you in the financial industry?
I would also be uttering that line "Greed is good" everywhere I went, and even if the attendent in the men's room would be baffled, he would still hear the liine as a matter of principle.
The problem is that I just couldn't handle the stress and ultimately the jail time needed to inhabit this world.
In the end, I settled on "Weird Science."
My reasoning is simple: Any movie where it's plausible to create Kelly LeBrock out of a doll, drink and smoke in downtown blues clubs when you're fourteen years old AND turn Bill Paxton (phenomenal as Chet) into a giant pile of shit is a universe where I want to live because anything is possible.
That being said, I'm open to other suggestions because this decade was stocked with good choices and I'm sure there are many that I haven't even considered.
Just a little escapism for a Friday morning . . .
-BDS
Since it's 104 degrees in Austin, and definitely still bathing suit weather, I thought a new round of debate around evil images was needed with a nod to summer attire. 
This was a tough match for me because I was drawn to the yellow bikini girl for reasons purely related to my long-standing love for that vibrant color.
But this might be wrong as it looks like she peeled a bright banana, threw the pieces into the air and then they just happened to land in strategic spots across her body.
This suit also appears dangerous to me.
It's not functional in the least (definitely no swimming) and she could get arrested for public nudity if a stiff breeze ever blew through the beach.
On the other hand (pun intended) the first woman in the bikini top would also scare me, but for entirely different reasons.
This top does make me laugh, however, it would also drive me to find the guy whose hands were constantly groping my woman and beat him senseless.
I don't care if he has no head, body or soul it just seems like every time that I turned around my initial reaction would be to punch someone because all I would see was a large pair of hands gladly groping her breasts.
And who needs that kind of aggravation all the time?
Not me as I'm trying to take more of a relaxed Buddist point of view after recently reading "Bangkok Tattoo."
I don't think this philosphy involves constant altercations, but I am an admitted novice and couldn't say for sure.
But a winner needs to be declared, and so I will go the easy route and say that the yellow bikini is the lesser of two evils as I just don't need any extra anger in my life.
I think the Buddha would agree.
-BDS
{Editor's Note: After seeing this movie on Saturday to a half-empty theater I began to suspect that it wouldn't live up to the Internet hype - and it didn't as it bowed with a less than stellar $15 million opening gross}
As if the events in the UK last week weren't enough to make me scared to fly, now I have to worry about snakes.
Snakes On A Plane. 
1) This marketing machine of a movie is a good time if you go into it starving to engulf the cheese that drips from the project. And much like that terrifyingly orange squeezy-cheese that you ate as a kid - it can be an enjoyable guilty pleasure.
2) That being said, it's still felt too long at only 96 minutes, and it could have been closer to an hour as the second major snake attack is just redundant.
3) You've got to like a movie that just gives you a grab-bag of paper-thin characters to kill off or save from the snakes. You've got an Asian kick-boxer, a porcelin princess, a horny couple with piercings and pot, an extreme-sports/Red Bull drinking sports nut, a famous musican, a redneck pilot, and Samuel L. Jackson. You can probably guess the fate of the characters by my brief descriptions.
4) The scene where two passengers decide to hit the bathroom, smoke a joint and screw like greased weasels is the very definition of gratuitous nudity. It just reeks of it - not that there's anything wrong with that in my book.
5) The killer line that Jackson delivers - "I'm sick of these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane" delivers the goods, however, his decision directly after his pronouncement made no sense to me as there should have been a much easier way to rid the cockpit of 4 snakes (I won't spoil the actual decision).
If you're going to see this movie, I would recommend doing it at a time where you are guaranteed to have a large and lively crowd.
Try not to laugh at the computer-generated snakes (I still found myself putting my feet on the chair in front of me after watching them nip at people's legs in the movie) and revel in all the glory that this over-the-top B movie has in store for you.
Just don't expect any surprises because the title really says it all.
-BDS
"This generation may be the one that will face Armageddon," - Ronald Reagan
I hate to forecast doom, but lately a string of events has precipitated what could be the end of the world we know it.
Maybe Reagan was right after all.
Hell is freezing over. The train has left the station. The Four Horseman could be riding at this very instant to usher in the apocalypse, which will bring hellfire and brimstone upon us all.
It seems serious this time, and I have the fear in a big way.
Up will soon be down.
Black will turn white.
Those with no discernible talents will soon be overflowing with it.
The truly scary thing is that this process of reversal has already begun with Kevin Federline's well-received performance at the Teen Choice Awards over the weekend. 
A few reviews:
"It wasn't genius, but it wasn't half bad either."
"I was expecting more dancing from the dude, you know. But he's OK. He's doing his thing."
In a loose white shirt and white hat, Federline prowled and jumped around the stage like a caged hyena, surrounded by young dancers.
"I ain't here to brag," he rapped in a tough-guy style.
No shit.
What exactly would you be bragging about as fathering children out of wedlock and taking hand-outs from your famous wife don't rhyme very well.
But the main thing that I took from these reviews was that there wasn't universal ridicule. There was some, but the positive reactions shook me to my very core and started this apocalyptic pendulum in motion.
And then Paris Hilton's debut album, "Paris" (probably titled as such so she wouldn't forget it during the press junket), was released today. 
I've already read several good reviews of this project as it is supposedly very danceable, slick and enjoyable.
What is the world coming to if K-Fed and Paris are suddenly hot and popular musical entertainers?
Can the world stand this without imploding?
Questions. Questions.
There are simply too many to answer early on a Tuesday morning, however, I'm watching the sky very carefully today because it might start falling at any given moment.
Beware.
-BDS
Ostensibly, this blog was created to discuss the fledgling attempts of my brother and I to write a sellable screenplay with no formal training, industry contacts or sense of where to begin.
Things change, however, and it would have quickly become repetitive to chronicle our time driving in a car or sitting in a bar and kicking around ideas before I would retire to the computer room with my Ipod to write.
Rinse and repeat over and over again.
But progress has been made as we recently came within one lousy point of the semi-finals of the International Screenwriting Awards.
We decribed our first script, "Last Train To Amsterdam," to the contest with the following logline:
Boy bands, pop culture and polar bears collide during a wild train ride through Europe which explores a seedy universe populated with has-been actors, German barons, heated housewives, and a degenerate train conductor who knows everyone's secrets.
Just thinking about that one point makes me want to cry or punch the judge in the kidneys or both.
More than 6,000 entries were received and our score put us in the top 27% of applicants, which is not bad all things considered.
Here's a sampling of the comments from the judge:
- "The script is quirky and strange and recalls such fimmakers as David Lynch, Terry Gilliam and Tim Burton."
- " This is a huge ensemble cast, and most writers would have buckled under the weight of having to write so many different characters; this scribe isn't one of them. Each character is unique and distinct, a fact which carries even into their dialogue (meaning, they all talk differently, which I consider the true mark of a good dialogue writer."
- "It is an offbeat movie relecting a unique sensability."
- "The story is a bit too weird for mainstream Hollywood."
In the end, we didn't make the semi-finals because our script wasn't commercial enough to warrant admittance to the next round.
I suppose that's fair enough, although if a movie which features a character being sexually mauled by a polar bear isn't mainstream than I don't know what normal is anymore.
We're not giving up hope for "Last Train To Amsterdam" and part of 2007 will be spent marketing it to indie studios and other smaller players. 
The last suggestion he made was for us to apply our unique sensibilities and dialogue onto something with a "big concept" or more "commercial" idea.
We have a good one in mind that should meet the criteria he laid down as well as give us a chance to write what still interests us.
But until we have a copyright on the next script I am reticent to acknowledge it, however, work has already begun because it's a moral imperative to have a second script completed by the end of 2006.
I think I'll leave the polar bears out this next time.
-BDS
{Editor's Note: My review might be tarnished by the fact that my car got rear-ended on the way to see this movie. If you want to shift your day 180 degrees I recommend driving to a silly comedy and then getting rear-ended by a bottled blonde with no insurance card which causes you to call the cops. Selah.}
Will Ferrell is a funny guy who has been on a losing streak lately.
It started somewhere around "Kicking and Screaming" and then got upgraded with that shitbomb "Bewitched" and concluded with a disappointing cameo in "The Wedding Crashers."
Now, he's back with "Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby."
1) This movie has its comedic moments - unfortunately many of those have been well-documented in the previews and I really hate when a movie has very little to offer outside of what you've already seen on TV or during theatrical trailers.
2) You could argue that there is more plot in this movie than in "Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy," but for my money Anchorman was a better-sustaining comedy.
3) As my brother said to me, you have to be a bit mistrusting about a movie that made as much money as "Talladega Nights" did on its opening weekend because anything playing to such a mass audience is often watered-down. This wasn't entirely true, but I enjoyed the tack-on one-liners that Ferrel spouts better than any of the visual gags.
4) John C. Reilly plays Will Ferrell's best friend in the movie, and is one of the most versatile and interesting actors today. He was phenomenal in "Boogie Nights" and has been good in nearly every role since then, and now he shows that he can play it loose and funny as well. 
5) Any movie that name-checks Rue McClanhan (sp?) from "Golden Girls" fame as one of history's great champions is still funnier than a lot of other comedies out there this summer.
All in all, "Talladega Nights" has some highlights, but ultimately there were too many dead-spots for me to recommend paying full price to see it.
It's not a bad option, however, to get a little silly and catch a matinee to escape the heat - just make sure to watch for horrible drivers who don't obey the rules of the road or of common decency and you might enjoy it a little bit more than I did.
-BDS
It's Friday again, and here's a few thoughts on a day that's supposed to be 104 degrees in Austin.
Damn the heat, but I guess you could escape it for a few hours and go see "Snakes On A Plane."
Phenomenal title. Great marketing campaign. Bound to be a disappointing movie, but it does pose the question of just what would it take for Samuel L. Jackson to say "no" to a film offer?
In a bit of romance news, it seems that Kate Hudson is ending her marriage, and Owen "The Butterscotch Stallion" Wilson is to blame. 
I always thought the dark, yetti-like appearance of Chris Robinson was an interesting mix for Hudson, but now those days appear to be over.
Wilson and Hudson look good together - too good - as they also look like they could be brother and sister which is just nasty.
Speaking of nastiness, Nicole Richie appeared this week to flaunt her skeletal curves while running on the beach. 
I just lost my erection for at least a week.
And in other emasculating news, I recently saw this picture of Hugh Jackman dancing around. 
I like Jackman as an actor, and he was especially cool with mutton-chops and claws as Wolvervine, however, no man can look cool while shaking maracas (sp?) back and forth.
Nobody.
Let's end with an image that helps counterbalance Nicole Richie as I don't know who this women is, but the combination of a black thong, a nice back and electronics provides a enough tonic for Richie that I might just gain back what once was lost. 
Happy Friday.
-BDS
"Midway through the journey of our life, I found myself within a dark wood, for the right way had been lost." - Dante, "The Divine Comedy"
There's nothing comedic about the new diet I was sent this past weekend by my nutritionist.
Of course there wasn't a whole lot of hilarious happenings in Dante's work either, so maybe it is applicable and not just something that's on my mind because I'm currently reading "The Dante Club."
Regardless, my journey towards a shot at NYC modeling/commercials, easy money, orgies, and most importantly potential contacts for our movie scripts has started for the last time.
This past June I met with the agent for the third time, and the verdict was close but not quite as this look didn't cut the mustard:
Since then, however, the agent has spoken with my nutritionist and instead of the 5 week program that I undertook this past time, I now am staring at an 8 - 10 week program full of blood, sweat and brown rice.
My new marching orders look like this:
Meal 1 - 2 Scoops Whey
Cardio - 30 minutes eliptical or step-mill
Supplement 1- 1 serving Cellmass
Meal 2 - 6 egg whites (1 yolk), 1/2 cup oatmeal in water
Meal 3 - 6oz. turkey or chicken, 50 grams of carbs from brown rice or sweet potato, veggies optional
Meal 4 - 6oz. chicken, turkey, or white fish, 50 grams of carbs from brown rice or sweet potato, veggies optional
Meal 5 - 2 scoops of whey, 1 handful of unsalted almonds if still hungry
Meal 6 - 8oz. steak or salmon, 40 grams of carbs from brown rice or sweet potato, veggies optional
Meal 7 - 8 egg whites
Take multi-vitamin, Axis-HT, NOxplode before training, your second serving of Cellmass after training (if you are training in the morning then you take your first serving after training and then your last serving before bed at night), take 5g of glutamine with every meal and 10g before training.
Drink at least one gallon of water per day.
I want you doing cardio six days per week.
No cheat days or cheat meals. I will increase and decrease your calorie intake when I deem it appropriate.
I need pictures once per week.
Maybe somebody should just shoot me now because life isn't as much fun without alcohol, sugar, spices and most carbs.
But in the immortal words of the poets in Whitesnake, "here I go again on my own."
{Editor's note: I may have taken liberty with the lyrics for that song, but you get the point.}
-BDS
Nearly 2,500 astronomers from 75 countries gathered in Prague yesterday to come up with a universal definition of what qualifies as a planet and possibly decide whether Pluto should keep its planet status.
I am in favor of keeping Pluto around because millions of schoolchildren were taught that there were 9 planets, and this new de-classification would throw those beliefs into anarchy.
Also, I made an amazing and according to one young teacher "bad-ass" diorama of the solar system sometime in my elementary school days, and I would hate to realize that it was wrong 20 years after the fact. 
But the decision won't be an easy one. Scientists attending the conference are split over whether Pluto should be excluded from the list of planets, Pavel Suchan of the meeting's local organization committee said.
"So far it looks like a stalemate," Suchan said. "One half wants Pluto to remain a planet, the other half says Pluto is not worth being called a planet."
I come down on the side of Pluto because it's a slippery slope once you start throwing planets out of the solar system.
First comes Pluto and then it's Uranus and that thought pains me too much to consider.
{Editor's Note: I still think that virtually all jokes involving Uranus are hilarious - a trait which also harkens back to my elementary days.}
-BDS
I wasn't planning on watching Season 2 of VH1's "Flavor Of Love," but sometimes the best-laid plans of mice and men go horribly awry. 
And so it went this weekend as I couldn't stop watching this train wreck of a show.
I don't know where they cast this thing, however, I would bet hard cash that they didn't round this group of women up at church or the library. 
In the debut, there was a lot of talk about licking women as well as men, a nasty brawl between two women and then the show ended with one contestant shitting on the floor of the mansion.
Let me repeat that: A women got dressed up, was picked to advance by Flavor Flav and then during the champagne toast she shit on the floor before fleeing upstairs to the bathroom.
When the incident was discovered, she responded by saying "it could have happened to anyone."
This is a lie.
Shitting on the marble floor of a mansion on national television couldn't just happen to anyone.
And if I were Flavor Flav I would have taken back her clock and punched her ticket right out of the house.
Speaking of all things relating to shit, Kevin Federline's publicity machine sent out a press release this week in antipication of his upcoming album. 
Some of the highlights read:
Performer and rapper Kevin Federline is gearing up for the release of his debut album Playing with Fire . . .
Federline recently completed the high energy music video for "Lose Control" at Pure night club in Las Vegas. The video is set for release during the first week of September 2006. Federline who was recently featured on the covers of Item and Steppin' Out has a feature coming out in the September issue of GQ set to hit stands on August 19, 2006.
A style icon in the making, Federline is also the new face of Five Star Vintage clothing company.
Federline has recently been featured in Newsweek, Spin, King, XXL, Blender and Giant magazine. Federline began his career as a backup dancer, performing with Michael Jackson, NSYNC, Destiny's Child, and Pink.
This is PR at its finest, and his team certainly earned their money on this one because anyone who would knowingly release something that had Kevin Federline and icon in the same report is a person without any remorse in their body.
And they have no problem dumping a load of verbal diarrehea on the general public.
-BDS
Moving sucks.
There is no upside to the experience until you have finally emptied the last box in your new place and poured yourself a strong drink.
But until that point, it's all about dealing with expensive movers who don't care that they spill a box of your books onto the street or trying to convince the electric company that you shouldn't have to pay a ridculous $200 deposit for no good reason at all or maybe it's just trying to find a particular item that is hidden among a sea of boxes.
Luckily, that experience is now largely gone, and here's some pics of the new loft near downtown Austin: 
{Rooftop deck where there will be patio furniture, plants, a grill, a mini-fridge, and possibly a hot tub or pool in the next few months}
It's still far from finished, but the worst is over - until the bills for everything start rolling in.
-BDS
