Attention, losers who are too dumb to know the difference between "you're" and "your": Despite the fact that either you're sleeping in class or your school system just isn't good enough to teach you grammar, the correct usage/spelling are written out in the lyrics in the CD inlay. If you can't even copy them correctly when you post them on the Web, you've got some serious mental issues and probably deserve to be smacked upside the head with a shovel. Sunday's Most Listened-to Song of the Week: The Used - "Blue and Yellow" And it's all in how you mix the two And it starts just where the light exists It's a feeling that you cannot miss And it burns a hole Through everyone that feels it Well, you're never gonna find it If you're looking for it Won't come your way Well, you'll never find it If you're looking for it Should've done something but I've done it enough By the way your hands were shaking Rather waste some time with you And you never would have though in the end How amazing it feels just to live again It's a feeling that you cannot miss It burns a hole through everyone that feels it Should've said something but I've said it enough By the way my words were faded Rather waste some time with you Waste some time with you...

The amusing thing is that after dinner with Fran and Wendy and their kid, I can totally see them all running back to their house and where Fran and Wendy will battle it out to see who gets to blog all the funny stuff first. I still have metric assloads* of work to do, so it's back to the grindstone for me. What a way to spend a perfectly lovely weekend, eh? Sitting inside on the couch, transcribing interviews, writing articles... wooooooooooooo... By the way, it appears I still haven't shed my East Coast roots and mentality. Despite the fact that Labor Day has no meaning in Southern California because, well, summer never ends, I still have unconsciously gone back to wearing long-sleeved shirts to work regardless of the fact that the temperature hasn't gone down at all -- and may have even gone up a bit -- since Labor Day. *Yes, the Department of Weights and Measures has officially established the "metric assload" as a unit of measurement, and it can be used to measure the overwhelming amount of work that one person needs to handle in too short an amount of time.

What I'm about to write is a little personal, a little strange if you don't know me and who I am and probably a little long. There are two locations in Los Angeles that mean a lot to me. And the odd thing is that I've been to each place only once, yet I drive past both of them often, seeing them always makes me crash to reality, and thinking about them always makes me somber. 1. The Blockbuster Video store at 14th and Wilshire in Santa Monica. Before I moved to Los Angeles, I had traveled out to the city several times for interviews for jobs other than the one I really wanted -- the one I have now. I had made up my mind that I wanted that job, and I would move out to L.A. and support myself in any way possible until something opened up for me. So on my last visit, I was driving around the Westside and I spotted that Blockbuster Video. I put in an application there to be a manager -- something that I could do that would pay the bills and rent until I could get a job where I'm working now. As luck would have it, I had planned on moving out to Los Angeles at the end of February 2002, and a position opened up at the company I really wanted to work for in mid-February and I never had to work at Blockbuster. But sometimes I wonder how long I would've waited and how much I would've put up with and how lean I would've lived to get what I really wanted. I got lucky and I didn't have to sacrifice. But that's all it boiled down to -- luck. 2. Trader Vic's, a bar in the Beverly Hilton at the corner of Wilshire and Santa Monica in Beverly Hills. There's a song that means a lot to me -- it has for many, many years, even long before I'd ever thought about leaving the Northeast and even longer before I'd ever thought about living in Los Angeles. It's called "Drinking in L.A." and it's by a band called Bran Van 3000. It was featured briefly in a movie I really like called Playing by Heart. The chorus begins, So I ask you, what the hell am I doing/Drinking in L.A. at 26, and the last verse begins with the lead singer commenting One more time at Trader Vic's. Well, I'm 26 now. I'm in L.A. I've drank in L.A. I've even had drinks at Trader Vic's, though it was a long time ago. And I've been to the Beverly Hilton several times, especially considering my company had our annual convention there these past two years. Though I've never had drinks at Trader Vic's when I'm 26. I know it sounds cheesy and trite and all that, but I have promised myself that before this year is out -- and I only have 3 months and 8 days until my next birthday -- I will have drinks at Trader Vic's.

I am an American. I am pleased as punch that I am an American, because being a citizen here has had a giant hand in helping to mold me into the person I am today, and I cannot fathom the thought of living in another country. I am grateful that I have the opportunity to speak my mind and my thoughts and the ability to disagree with our leaders without fear of retribution. I am grateful to those who, civilian or military, have given their lives to defend those freedoms that so many of us take for granted. I am still appalled at what happened two years today, as I can still remember that growing pit of fear and sadness in my stomach that appeared that morning when my mother IMed me as soon as I woke up to tell me to turn on any channel on the TV, and I still get teary-eyed when I see pictures of Ground Zero and think of the mightiness that once stood there and the thousands of people whose lives were needlessly lost. I am still an idealist at heart and hope that one day, everyone on Earth can live and coexist in peace. I am an American, first and foremost.

Keith needs a vacation. NOW.

Dear Lord. Someone had too much time on his hands and put it to good -- even if it's mildly obsessive -- use. You know that forward going around of President Moron's "resume"? The one where it talks about all the not-so-fabulous things he's done so far? Someone actually did news searches to find news stories corroborating almost all the statements in that e-mail. (Link blatantly pilfered from The Mighty Jimbo.) The thing that bothers me the most about the situation with President Moron is not so much the fact that he's a moron, but the fact that so many people in this country are willing to overlook that and stand behind him and support him no matter what just because we're at war (or were, at least). After 9/11, Bush scored the highest approval rating of a president that I've ever seen -- and he did nothing. NOTHING! In fact, during the entire day it happened, this country needed a leader, and he was flying all over the country playing tag with our news crews instead of being the leader we needed. You shouldn't have to feel that you need to support your president and keep your mouth shut no matter what -- isn't that the situation we liberated the Iraqis from? Oh, and by the way, does anyone know where the hell Osama bin Laden and Saddam Hussein are? The two main objectives that George W. Bush has set forth during his administration -- especially since our government told us on September 12, 2001 that catching Osama bin Laden was Priority No. 1 -- haven't been achieved, and one of them was declared 2 years ago! What the hell's he doing up there in Washington? Oh wait, I forgot -- he's not in Washington, he's taking a month-long vacation on his ranch in Texas. I love my country. Really. What other place could I have this kind of forum to vent this kind of opinion without fear of retribution? But our Fearless Leader is an idiot, I have no respect for him, and my idea of running away and forming my own Sovereign Island Nation is looking more and more attractive every day.

Just a short rant before I go get ready for work. And unfortunately, it needs to stay short. So our esteemed state Fearless Leader (as opposed to the national Fearless Leader, who I may get to if I have time) is all about helping the illegal immigrants, especially now because, according to the pundits, he feels that it will help him with the Hispanics in the polls for the recall. He's put a bill through that will allow illegal immigrants to get driver's licenses, and he's criticized Arnold Schwarzenegger for supporting Proposition 187, which would cut off benefits to illegal immigrants and their families. Okay, what part of "illegal" does he not understand? Part of the state's responsibility is to make sure its residents are following the law, and part of following the law is being here legally. We spend so much money on the Border Patrol and trying to make sure everyone getting into this country is doing so legally, and we also spend a lot of cash catching people who are making their way into the country illegally. So why should he grant amnesty to people just because they've gotten here and gotten settled and allow them to get benefits like a driver's license? Hell, as one of the state representatives said when Prop 187 was up for a vote, if we're able to track these illegal immigrants to the point of licensing them, we should make them leave. My analogy is, if you're a shopowner, and there's someone who comes into your shop every day, spends some money but shoplifts an item and you know that this person does it, would you keep inviting them back, or would you ban this person from the store and even possibly call the police on them? Illegal immigrants, despite the fact that they do fill jobs and put some money back into the economy, are still here illegally and should be treated as if they broke the law -- because they did by coming here without going through proper channels. And given the paranoia that's ensued after 9/11, you can be damn well sure that if these people were Islamic instead of from another ethnic background and it was discovered they were living here illegally, there'd be a sweep to get them out of the country faster than you can say "human rights." And as for our national Fearless Leader, who's all about campaigning for more money to go make over Iraq into his own image, doesn't he remember that he's got a country full of people here who need his help? Doesn't he know that the unemployment rate is the highest it's been in decades and that he's got a national budget deficit the size of Saturn? Doesn't he realize how poor our school systems are and how bad our roads are and that national security is pretty damn porous? And yet he's still going to spend more billions of dollars -- that we will give to him through our taxes, make no mistake -- on Iraq. Is it just me, or should he be paying just a wee bit more attention to home before he goes paving roads abroad?

You know things are warped when you're dreaming that you need to get to sleep. I dreamed that last night. Apparently, my subconscious feels guilty that I'm not sleeping enough. Well, it's its own damn fault because it keeps me up at night anyways. In other news, it appears I may not be interviewing Fountains of Wayne after all. But I'm still going to get to interview Amy Lee from Evanescence, though I had to promise that I wouldn't profess my love for her or ask her to marry me.

So, I was visiting Bill's place -- her site, not her actual place, since I'd need a lot more time and access to my passport to visit her realtime (and I get the sneaking suspicion that she'd be more than a little freaked out if I just showed up on her doorstep -- though I'd probably need to know where she lived in order to do that), and reading her latest entry sparked the question of the ages. The Chinese food dish. What's its name? I always thought it was "General Tso's Chicken," she wrote it as "General Tau Chicken," and I've heard people refer to it as "General Gau('s) Chicken." Will someone please give me a definitive answer as to whose damn chicken it is?

Too much running through my head. Not enough energy or desire to put it down here. I will say this, though: Nothing beats fresh new cotton jersey sheets. So, I offer you this Sunday Most Listened-to Song o' the Week: Linkin Park - "Papercut" Why does it feel like night today? Something in here's not right today Why am I so uptight today? Paranoia's all I got left I don't know what stressed me first Or how the pressure was fed But I know just what it feels like To have a voice in the back of my head It's like a face that I hold inside A face that awaits when I close my eyes A face that watches every time I lie A face that laughs every time I fall And watches everything So there's no doubt when it's time to sink or swim That the face inside is hearing me Right underneath my skin It's like I'm paranoid, lookin' over my back It's like a whirlwind inside of my head It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within It's like a face inside is right beneath my skin I know I've got a face in me Points out all my mistakes to me You've got a face on the inside too Your paranoia's probably worse I don't know what set me off first but I know what I can stand Everybody acts like the fact of the matter is I can't add up to what you can But everybody has a face that they hold inside A face that awaits when they close my eyes A face watches everytime they lie A face that laughs everytime they fall And watches everything So you know that when it's time to sink or swim That the face inside is watching you too Right inside your skin It's like I'm paranoid, lookin' over my back It's like a whirlwind inside of my head It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within It's like a face inside is right beneath my skin The face inside is right beneath your skin The face inside is right beneath your skin The face inside is right beneath your skin The sun goes down I feel the light betray me The sun goes down I feel the light betray me It's like I'm paranoid, lookin' over my back It's like a whirlwind inside of my head It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within It's like a face inside is right beneath my skin...

So I was watching an episode of Futurama on TiVo late last night, and for those of you who don't know, the show is set in New New York -- that's not a typo, Futurama takes place in the year 3000 where they've built New New York on top of the ruins of Old New York. Anyways, I had forgotten that the name of the mayor of New New York was Mayor Poopenmeyer. At 2:15am, that can be pretty damn funny. And 12 hours later, saying it still makes me giggle like Homer Simpson. Poopenmeyer... hee hee hee!

I'm paying it forward. Putting out good karma. Performing random acts of kindness. I have no idea why. I just am, I guess. UPDATE: Given everything that's going to happen this weekend, I think I need to offer up the Shepard's Prayer. And no, I'm not talking about the Shepherd's Prayer, for those of you who read that and wondered what the hell the crazy Jew was up to. I mean the Shepard's Prayer, as uttered by Alan Shepard moments before he became the first American to be launched into space: "Lord, please don't let me fuck up."

We all know what the female of the species do to Keith -- they make him want to clean. It's some strange by-product of the pheromones. So the fact that there's a chance I may have two dates with two different women this upcoming weekend sparked a cleaning frenzy tonight the likes of which haven't been seen in a while. I just hope they like Eau de Soft Scrub, because I think it's saturated my skin to the point where I'll be reeking of it for the next few days.

I have never made a mix for someone who didn't like the mix I made them. I am legendary. Seriously. To the point where I made someone a mix in college, and when I ran into them five years later and barely remembered his name, he told me he still had my mix and listened to it regularly because it still kicked so much fucking ass. The story of how he got that mix is actually pretty cool as well. I made a mix for a friend of mine, and this guy lived on my friend's hall. My friend tended to listen to music loudly with his room's door open, so just about everyone heard the mix -- and everyone loved it to the point where it was copied by about 5 people, so the next time I visited his hall, I heard my mix coming out of several different rooms and was inundated with requests for personalized mixes. I've made mixes for people I've never met (Joelle, among others) which were also well-received to the point where they were played at parties and people asked the host where the mix came from and could they get a copy. And I've never duplicated a personal mix unless they were specifically themed for general consumption (like my anti-Valentine's Day mix) -- each personal mix is handcrafted for that person's enjoyment. Yeah. I rock, dude. You'd best b'lee dat. I am the Mixmaster, there is none other.

(Before we begin the entry, let us please offer apologies to the Powers That Be for so horribly bastardizing a Depeche Mode lyric in the title of this entry. Thank you.) So skits was talking about spam and it makes me believe even more so that we are brother and sister, separated at birth because even before I saw her entry, I was going to blog about spam this morning. I always thought spam should have some kind of point. Fine, I don't have a house so I don't need a mortgage, I don't have breasts so I don't need them enlarged, I have no debt so I don't need it reduced, and I don't need anything else enlarged or reduced either. I actually have a rule set up in my e-mail client that finds keywords in my incoming mail and trashes them accordingly -- I have to adjust it every now and then, but it still works pretty well and I end up with more mail in my "deleted items" folder than in my inbox every time I log in. Then, this morning, I got this spam: Hello, How have you been lately? Our familys been fine, not a lot happening over here! What are you doing this weekend? Luv, Your Pal! Personalized spam that has no point except to fill space in my inbox. They're not trying to sell me anything, they're not trying to make me sign up for any services... well, either that or I'm being e-mailed by a 10-year-old. Oh, and speaking of kids, Annoying Neighbors' Screaming Child woke me up again this morning. I'm about ten seconds away from stapling the kid to the wall and firing paintballs at her.