Miasma

• Every minute someone new in the US is creating their own Blog.
• The US Government was paying Carnival Cruise Lines $1,44o a week to house evacuee's from Hurricane Katrina, while a typical fare for a week on the same liner costs $450 with five stops in the Caribean.
• Laziness is the most sickening non-disease to witness when it is around you, especially when the person in question is gaining close to three pounds a day and farting and snoring all the time in the room in which you have to share with them, and when he decides to get up he switches on his Gangsta Rap at volume levels of ten to join his apathetic crooners in berating the white man.
• The brilliant Editorial by L.Lapham in this months 'Harpers' compares GWB and his cronies to the likes of the spoiled celebutantes that glut every magazine cover and gossip column in regards to getting what they want when they want it and sparing no one any clearance from the wrath of destruction that lays in their wake.

For the love of....

"Real World: Queens, NY"
A couple of little tidbits regarding the Halfway House I'm currently in. Every week on Friday we get $23.35 cold hard cash. Where this figure comes from and who it comes from, I haven't a clue, but it is issued to us non-workers of the house weekly until we start a job. The window which disperses this cash opens at 8am and if you ever wanted to see a group of neer do well addicts set every alarm clock in the house on Thursday Night, you should be present for this. Some of us are not allowed to work yet (me) because you need to have been residing at the house a month before you can seek gainful employment (I have been working anyway).
Now; some people, you have to understand, have neither the proverbial piss or the pot so this 23 dollar 'manna from heaven' is all they have. In NYC, this can not even buy you a weekly MetroCard (to seek employment) or help you buy some cigarettes and stop grubbing from the likes of me. (Ciggs. are about $6.50 a pack for Generics here in NYC).
This morning I came down @ about 8:06 am. We are supposed to be out of our rooms from 8am to 4pm on weekdays and at this time the breakfast room is usually packed with everyone drinking coffee and Bullshitting about the same Bullshit topic they had left off on the night before and I am forced to hear the cacophony of inane banter and loud ass Rap Bullshit and people sucking the raisin Bran out of their teeth etcetera. Wow! It must be Friday indeed. The State Funded recipients started filing back into the cafeteria in Dribs and Drabs with Booty purchased from their new found windfall. Two people came back with Mickey D's (no relation) Big Breakfasts (approx. 5 bucks each), and another beaut came back with 6 'Win for Life' Lotto Cards which are $2 each, I believe. That's 12 bucks, more than half his weekly income spent in 6 minutes on a far fetched pipe dream. It's fucking crazy.



CYNDI LAUPER QUESTION:
Does anyone reading this happen to know Miss Lauper? I have the greatest song in mind for her to remake and I would like to pass it along to her. Thanks

Oy Fucking VEY!!!

Some spoiled ass little girl celebrated her bat mitxvah (sp!!) this past weekend. Her multi-millionaire Dad rented two floors of the Rainbow Room and handed out goodie bags to all the attendees in the neighborhood of $2,000. Oh, and he flew in some recording artists for the gig. Don Henley, Stevie Nicks, 50 cent, Steven Tyler, Joe Perry and some has been or never has been named Ciara all were paid over a million dollars each to perform for approximately 45 minutes. All of the above stars were flown in Private Jets to NYC for this shilling. If your not sick now, or disillusioned now, wait. The little yeshivess' father made a couple of his own changes: namely donning a pink leather suit as he posed with the "Celebes".
It will be hard for me in the future to hear any kind of blubbering from Don Henley about 'Walden Pond' or 50 cent (even though I don't listen to him) talking all gangsta and believe they are credible and then seeing each of their money loving grins posing with our newest little JAP in waiting and her insecure father; who obviously needs love from his little future nose job so badly he spent more in one day than it took to make "You Can Count On Me" or the GNP of Guatemala. This small penised father had to bolster himself with buying the "integrity" of these "stars". Luring them with a shitload of money for a set that lasted less than an episode of "Desperate Housewives". Imagine if the little girl had just wanted to provide, oh; I don't know, maybe houses for about 100 families who lost theirs in Katrina, or maybe building a school or twenty in some African Country. But I digress. I just hope and pray that Pearl Jam would never do this or for that matter even some of my lower paid favorite singers, but why do I care so much what someone whom I considered a great musician does for a buck. Shit; I often considered selling myself to pay the rent on my two bedroom in Manhattan when I was broke. An aspiring "actress and Broadway Star" from Ohio was just murdered and when her parents got the news, they were told that she made ends meet by stripping under the name of 'Ava' at Flashdancers.

A funny thing happened on the way to Detox

While I was still in Florida a few months back, I was seeking to get some help in adressing my addictions. The only place in the Southern Hemisphere of that state which resembles a circumcised penis was this center called; DAF (Drug/Alcohol Facility) <--- Snappy Name! The waiting list was longer than a Yes song; and it could be weeks before I could get in. I spoke with someone at the facility who suggested that I call the Detox unit, and if they have a bed available, that may just slip me into the system a little quicker. Since I needed to be in this facility yesterday, I was short on time.
Every day I would call the Detox Unit in the morning and ask if they had a bed available and then they would tell me to call back at 4 pm to check again. I did this for about three days, when one afternoon a bed was available. Now the only thing I had to do was to get drunk. I had to literally break my clean date to get drunk so I can then get into a program.
The only thing Joyce had at her house was a bottle of Marsala Wine and big ass bottle of Kahlua that she recieved as a present. I guzzled the Kahlua, grimacing at the taste; usually enjoying it when it was in a White Russian, but not now, not by itself. We drove down to the DAF and started with the check in procedures. After filling in all of the necessary paperwork, a nurse came over to take my vitals. It seems that my heart rate and my blood pressure were throught he roof. Unbeknowest to me, Kahlua is about 93% sugar, and I had just glugged down a whole bottle in 10 minutes. Needless to say, the Facility did not accept me, they wanted me to go to the hospital and check myself in for the possibility that I may have a heart attack!

From the gaffer who worked on "the Edge of Night" for an internship comes ...

In the Sept/Oct issue of "filmcomment" there is an excellent article by David Mamet regarding the dismal future of Hollywood. In it he ponders as he is looking at a current movie poster why there are 18 (!) producers listed. "ON THE POSTER?" he writes. He states the sentiments exactly shared by myself; which is: What would be the financial gain or loss to that movie should none of those names appear?
I love seeing commercials or trailers wherein the Voice Over states : "From the Producers of 'Dukes of Hazzard:The Movie' comes a new..."
What the Fuck? Do they not even have 30 seconds of compelling film to show the audience without groveling to some inexistent denominator of movie goer who actually gives two shits about who Produced 'Dukes'? Are the Special Edition 7-11 Nascar Cup drinkers who traded in their food stamps for cash to catch the opening weekend of "Dukes" really going to say over their TV tray tables to one another that since "Seth Blackbury" produced 'Dukes' we better check his 'Newest Release"?
Do you think the think these ticket buyers even know what a producer does?
Mamet goes on to state that for a film: "One needs a camera, some film and an idea (optional)."
The state of the current film business bothers me to no end. All I had to do was go on one interview regarding my first script to see what the deal was. I was asked if my vision was anything like Aronofsky's "Requiem". The script I was assuming they called me in on showed no hopes of becoming another "Requiem" nor did I want or conceive it to be. In doing that, I could have had more integrity had I walked a few blocks up to Hollywood Boulevard and started selling handjobs for a dollar.

Do not try this at home

One great thing about my stint for the last hundred plus days was that besides helping to cure my drinking and drug addiction, I also put a big halt to my obsessive television watching habit. I was sitting in a common room of the Halfway this morning reading the paper as others watched the tube. What was on was the hourlong block of "Entertainment Tonight and The Insider". Saying that if I had to endure this fecal matter on a daily basis would lead me to drink and drug again is an understatement to the horrors of that disease. I emplore the United States Government to use my proposed tactic for garnering information from insurgents and other captives that we recently had to stop torturing. Let them sit with a loop of this drivel 24/7 and I assure you they will give up the goods. How do they choose their correspondants? Is there a contest to see whose voice correctly captures the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard? Do they ask passers by whom they consider the most annoying personality out there today and have board meetings to decide? Kimora Simmons! Holy Fuck! Pat O'Brian! There's more but I don't know there names. Snapshots of Brad and Angie with Maddox are scrutinized like a John Madden Football explaination, telling us the veiwer how Brad returned his shopping cart to the front of the market. Awwww. I hear the watercooler talk now. What are the ratings for these shows? What are the 'Q" ratings for it's hosts? Do people in trailers and New Orleans evacuee's who are still holed up in Shelters really want to hear that Olivia Newton John and Cliff Richard recently shared a lunch together and the tab was $5,000? (A $3,500 dollar bottle of wine and $500 dollar Kobi Steaks) Paris has a new fucking pet, a monkey and guess what? She has a new $25,000 Harley and (Awww) it's pink. Just change the channel Mickey (I couldn't, it's the house TV). Just walk away (I couldn't; we have to meet there every 9am). The reason why I'm so pissy is because I just don't get it. I was told that I complicate a lot of things in life. I over analyze and never keep things simple; but this shit just amazes me. Have a great day.

My Drug Buddy

The Halfway House I'm living in is pretty weird and often trying. The fact that I'm surrounded by adults (21-50 years of age) who act like the age from when they first picked up. This is true of addicts anyway. If you started abusing drugs at 16 and now your clean after a twenty year run; you are basically a 16 year old in a weathered 36 year old body that has been through the mill. I myself feel like a 17 year old even though I started erasing the pain at 15. I'm one of those teenagers that friends' parents would love and state that he is wise beyond his years. The rooms at this house are set up in combo's of three to a room. 24 of which are guys and 6 women. So, picture them all at their clean age (12-17 ish) and it makes for quite a dichotomy. There is all the usuall stuff that made me want to pick up in High School: Backstabbing, Unconfirmed rumors spreading like wildfire, clicks and closet cases. Being the type that loves to analyze people in these habitats, I should be giving you guys quite the earfull. One thing that kind of befuddles me is how everybody wants to top each other with their last run. These are termed "War Stories" by the professionals and at the Rehab I just went to, you could basically get kicked out for being some kind of braggart. It's hard for these chroniclers to realize that basically one upping each other on the War Stories means dick, because we are all occupying the same seats in a Rehab on Medicaid and Social Services and (most) don't have a house or an apartment to go home to, nor family. You see, with these stories comes the "one upping". Topping each others superhero like escapes from the cops or "thousands" of dollars in contraband. This program that I am following now, allows ME to be the MOST HONEST person that I could be. Lies are well behind me: "What do you mean I reak of Alchohol? It must be my mouthwash" et al. All these newly hatched 28 day programmers might as well sign up now for the next available empty bed at the nearest Detox if they allow themselves to feed into the anticts of constant relapsers who THRIVE on taking someone out with them.

Put this in your pipe and smoke it

Shit man...I've been gone about three and a half months and all this celebrity bullshite has gone on. Man, it is amazing how these Hollywood Airheads work. When someone does not have anything to promote, they either get engaged, (Paris H) seperate and brake engagement (Paris H) or they just fail to get the frig out of the spotlight (Not enough time to list; but here's one: Paris H). They feel that we are clinging to their very next move, eager with anticipation over which banquette at "Butter" did they get. Was Lindsey in the same room as her? "Oh No she DID NOT!!" Who gives a flying ass fuck? I was too busy chatting with guys who ran million dollar companies and smoked it all away, guys who started Hustling themselves because their Mother remarried some child molester and she decided to keep peace in her new family so she kicked "Tony" out. It sort of pales in comparison to what size latte MK Olsen was sipping or the new peroxided locks on Jessica Simpson. Gossip Pages would be really cool to read if the editors of such pages could break down the fourth wall and say what they really want to print instead of cowering to PR Flacks and Movie Studios. These scoopers should realize than the Pen is always mightier than the Sword, and the way ticket prices are waning these days on Big Budget Shlop, you would think the studio guys are going to say "Fuck it, our up and coming release stars that anorexic coke head and the swishy yet married Scientologist who erased all those rumors years ago, thank you very much.

I wish I had a picture of Nicholson in the Shining for this entry

Hey, anyone who's still got me bookmarked...I'm BAAAAAACCCCKKKK!!! Wow. What an intense program I have just went through. I'm living in a Halfway House right now and I'm not allowed to have my laptop, but sans pictures; I will continue writing about my experiences from Rehab. As much as the 30 minutes allots me on the Library Computer. I feel freaking great and believe me, I'm not all holier than thou. I just came to realize that if I want anything in Life, I for one can not drink anymore. Just a little tease for upcoming entries, I kept quite an exstensive journal while I was in "Drunk Camp" and I plan to write a pretty hair raising screenplay about the life of a recovering addict. Think "28 Days" minus that whole movie, it's lead actress and the assinine plot!! I read some comments and I recieved some pretty cool Emails from some of you. Thanks for the support and try and bookmark me or add me to your favorite sites on your blogs (does anyone use that term anymore? Shit, I've been gone for a long ass time).

Good Bye to you my trusted friends

Okay. This is the deal. I'm going away for three months. I wish I could keep my blog going for that amount of time, but where I'm going they do not let you bring a laptop in. I feel like Edie Sedgwick getting sent off to the sanitarium everytime she made a mis- judgment in life; but alas, I am going voluntarily. I need this people (peeps). Thank God that New York State provides federally funded programs for those in need like me.
I'll tell you one thing; I'm totally going to miss some of my favorite blogs. I am going to be a busy little beaverette when I get out and start perusing all the archives. this goes out to you Towleroad and you Narcissism101. Hats off to Damon D and Hunter and Lady Bunny and Pink...Three months should go by like (snap of fingers). Take out the weekends and holidays and what are we talking here, like, maybe 55 days at the most; then you exclude the hours sleeping and now we are down to like 33 days (Jesus was 33). Take out time for meals and work...Now, I'm down to a holiday weekend basically.
All I know is that I will be coming back a brand new person (no, I am not going under the knife or to Fat Camp!). I'll be scripted as well and hopefully I will be able to possibly consider a relationship one of these days.
I know how time just flies by for you guys out there, so hopefully we will pick up where we left off when I get back. (The Fat Camp is starting to sound pretty good though).
Love, Mickey

"A Three Hour Tour........."

Le Boob Tube

Did you ever move to a new state and have to totally re program yourself as to what the television channels are. I'm always going to assume that 2 (CBS), 4 (NBC) and 7(ABC) are going to be the same everywhere, yet they are not. If that's not bad enough, I'm guessing that certain state's budgets only allow sub-bar, cheaper airtime reruns that usually are on during the day. For example: at 10 am and 11 am you will find three separate channels running The Jerry Springer Show (demand, I'm assuming) and I think Becker has it's best numbers here in Fla. as well. It runs like Sienfeld or ...Raymond would in New York. I actually am beginning to like the geriatric trifecta of an hour of The Golden Girls followed by an hour of Matlock and then everyone favorite sleuth in Murder She Wrote. Television is like white noise for me that is always on in the background. I find it hard, no make that painfully hard to sit and watch television by itself; especially if you scan around at the hubris being passed along as entertainment this summer.

Yes they're cousins! Identical cousins...

I took a drive up north in Fla. tonight with Joyce and her son Conner, to drop him off at camp. The town was called Vero Beach...Sounds semi-classy; yet when we arrived at a rest stop there, I was reminded of this segment on SNL called, "Appalachian Emergency Room". One big man boobed man was buying a "suitcase" of beer with his shirt off as his little bitty frail wife in a housedress was rubbing off scratch off lottery tickets.

Suddenly Sublime

Kathy Griffin rules, dammit.
Here is a sampling from a recent Radar On-line interview with her...

What handsome guy would you not want to sleep with?
I don’t get Colin Farrell. He seems like a wife beater and he looks like he smells bad and has crabs.

Her new show, "The D list" will air on Bravo.

PUNCH DRUNK LOVE

Well; it's back to rehab for me. A 60 day commitment. I hope to be posng at least once a week regarding my travails. My other option was to be sent to this "rehab" where there was no group or one on one therapy but rather it was "Bible based". I had visions of me turning into Jerri Blank and singing,"I'm gonna sit at the Masters' Table" from the episode "The Blank Stare" of Strangers with Candy. I need some serious therapy; and I'm also not doubting that I need some serious psychotropics. God speed y'all.

Nearly Beloved

My freinds never know my type...I'm sort of all over the map. What with guys and girls and stuff and then that bout with asexuality, rockers or poets...But when this guy came into the place I was working in Los Angeles with his (their) then producer, Michael Penn; I honestly could not stop stealing glances at him. His eyes were Ice Blue and his black hair and pale skin had me enraptured. I'm reminded of Jakob because they were on a rerun of Letterman tonight. Poor bubby can't seem to get another hit...He's still hot as shit.

Same amount of people; different situations

Heroin. Heroin. Alcohol. Heroin. Crack. Oxy Contin and Alcohol. Alcohol. Crack. Heroin and Alice.
This is the house and my housemates. We are a good looking bunch. We are a smart bunch...As a matter of fact; addicts have a collectively higher IQ than your normal sober folks. No bragging rights here on my part. I hate almost every day I am here on this earth due to all it's temptations and the fact that I will live with this for the rest of my life. We have an empty bed, i guess that is where "cousin Oliver" comes along.

Year old best sellers that come out in paperbacks RULE

Not exactly Jackie Collins for the beach, but; whoa man, this shit is heavy. If you've ever wanted more from Sandra Bullocks happy, pappy version of rehab via 28 days or had a loved one or a past loved one who has been an addict of any kind; I implore you to read this weighty tome which is beautifully written by James Frey.

My Friends, My friends...

It seems that whoever reads my suggested links labeled "summer reading" has a poison pen and their name is anonymous. Poor Anonymous, (not to be associated with Alcoholics, Narcotics, Overeaters et al) seems to read and reply to many folks with bitter, scathing remarks rebelling against every passage either of us writes. I have to chock it up to something other than alcohol, narcotics or overeating; because at least those vices satiate ones negativity and in most cases make enough endorphins to provide humorous writings.
As for putting my face in my profile; I can not begin to answer this since it is basically a pre-requisite for any newspaper columnist, ice cream and popcorn distributor and jailbirds. I, have never; ever been egotistical; nor do I pose "for hours to get a shot." That pix happened to be a copy of a copy from a friends Email. Fuck off Anonymous; I suggest picking up a bottle of Stoli, a Crack Pipe and a 6 foot Hero from the Deli.

This makes me so fucking upset:Army gives $5B in Iraq work to Halliburton

Whatever

"Today's the 4th of July,
Another June has gone by;
And when they light up our town,
I just think;
What a waste of gunpowder and sky"

"4th of July" Aimee Mann