Pizza Pictures and Stories

So I work at a pizza place. When I started, I was really really bad at it. This picture was taken after I'd worked there for a month and a half. I've been there like 2 months now... Maybe a bit more, and guess what? I'm still not great at it. We're supposed to use these pans that are attached to long sticks to take pizzas out of the oven. It is difficult. Also, I'm not good at keeping track of a lot of pizzas at once. Also, different parts of the oven cook at different rates. It's kind of complicated, I promise... Anyway, ftr, I did end up eating this pizza.

More pictures and stuff...

My third day on the job, nine customers called and complained about burned pizza. They had the owner come and talk to me because I was doing so badly that they thought I was doing it on purpose. I was not. I was just really really bad at it. I'm really grateful, really really grateful that they did not, and have not fired me.

I like my job. I really do. I even liked today, when I had to get on a huge ladder and clean the fans after we'd closed. It was like it was snowing flour slash dust all over me. It was so thick that it was actually kind difficult to not breathe it in. Anyway, one part of my job that I really like is trying to balance pizza boxes and move them. I also like to fold pizza boxes. It's kind of this zen thing, this routine that you just do over and over, and it keeps your hands busy, but your mind kind of wanders. We have to stack them. I had a stack of 43 that I was trying to move...

Needless to say, I was not good at moving it. I spilled the boxes on Jorge, who was busy making pizzas. I am bad luck for Jorge. Later this day, he slipped on the floor that I wasn't yet done mopping and hurt his wrist. For a pizzamaker, wrists are a big deal.

Poor Jorge, on my second day of work, I was reaching into the oven to move pizzas, while he was reaching into the oven to put a pizza in there. I lifted up my paddle, which lifted his arm up into the oven. He didn't say anything about it at the time. I just asked him several days later "Geeeeze, that's a big scar, how'd you get that?" He was like "Oh, you did that to me." I felt like such a jerk. He still has a big scar on his bicep. Incidentally, karma semi came back to bite my butt, as I now have a matching scar. However, mine is fading rapidly, whereas Jorge's is not.

Here is a salad that I made. It's a caesar salad with a side of chicken and a side of avocado. I thought it was really funny that I did this, and forced the driver to wait for me to take a picture of it before I let him deliver it. He was already late, and did not think this was funny. Well, to him I have to say "Sorry, Vince." Also, I made a salad for Diane Lane the other day. My coworker was like, "That was Diane Lane." And I was like "Diane who?" I googled her though. My coworker should've said "Oh, Cherry Valance." Maaaan, I loved that movie. And Rumble Fish. And Judge Dredd... not.

Also, today someone told me that I look like Keith Haring, and I was like "Keith who?" She must've mistaken my genuine lack of artistic knowledge for offense, because she quickly said "But better looking! Better looking!" Anyway, I googled him. I'd forgotten who he was. He was this guy. While we are both skinny white guys with circular glasses and slightly higher than average hairlines, I'm going to say the resemblance ends there. Okay, maybe that is quite a resemblance though.

Read More......

Los Angeles Pictures and Stories

My friend Nahum was a LACMA member, so he took me. It was great. The most memorable part was when he was loudly loudly berating me for not agreeing that "Waiting For My Ruca" was the best Sublime song. Nahum really thinks it's funny to be loud and offensive, especially where it's not appropriate. For the most part, I kind of have to agree with him. He spent a lot of time that day negatively using swear words to describe art he didn't like... which was a lot of art. HOWEVER, at this particular time, we were walking, and several people were around us, including one lady who was kind of young, but older than us, and kind of dressed nice in a uniformy way (like a waitress). As I was telling Nahum to please be quiet, she turned around and said, to me, "He's right, you know. That is their best song." Oh, LA...

More pictures and stuff...

I don't know what this next picture was of... Aside from painted boomboxes. It didn't seem like it was a store or a gallery. I just liked it.

There was a killer in this neighborhood, so the police had locked off the street. People were lined up at the police tape waiting to get back into their houses, or waiting to leave the block. It was funny. You'd see kids walking up to the line and handing groceries to their mothers, who would then walk back to their houses and continue cooking. One guy walked up to the line, and somebody brought him out a suit, and then he left. I didn't really have anything to do that day, so I hung around and just watched for about an hour.

This was the bathroom of this one old warhouse type place that is solely used for film shoots. Apparently they really hate the fact that they're not supposed to park right outside of their own building, so they keep stealing the signs, and the city keeps putting them back up. I wonder how long this has been going on for...

Click on the below picture to make it bigger and readable. Yes, isn't it awesome?

This really really looked like a cross, but it was a tow truck.

Little cowboy, at a fake rodeo...

Well, it was a fake rodeo, but it wasn't fake. I did see one guy get sent to the hospital by an angry bull.

This was the bathroom at the Echoplex on St. Patrick's...

I guess I probably should've expected to see this in the bathroom at a concert for a band called "And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of The Dead..." Long story. Anyway, not the band that I thought it was. You know how rock songs have like these crazy build ups for the most intense part, and there's a lot of cymbals? This band writes songs that are like 6 minutes long that are just that crazy build up part. And it's kind of lame.

This was actually taken on my way from LA to SLC right before Christmas. It was really interesting to see the whole sun set thing when you're totally up above the clouds. I felt like I could see the curve of the Earth.

Read More......

Streetarted

Read More......

TV Hustling

This tv is massive. It cost $80. How? Now, that is a story...
Here is the story. It was early in the morning, and I was attending to the first thing on my schedule (find a tv). This sweet TV was listed on Craigslist. The address was kind of in the ghetto, so I kept thinking that maybe I shouldn't go--because the seller might just be needing money for drugs. I also thought that it might not fit in my car (the guy said he'd even deliver it--further proof of desperation), and that I probably didn't want a drug fiend in my apartment. Anyway, better judgment aside, I brought my roomie (which cut my statistical chance of being held up in half, right?), and we went.

I had called the seller (named Patrick) several times. He seemed nice (not high) enough. So we go, and it's kind of in the ghetto (it was in an alley, across from a liquor store and next to a motel--okay, it was the ghetto). He has a big dog on a chain out front. He also has us wait several minutes before he lets us in. He also has like 4 weight benches out in front of his house. We go inside and (this is a tiny house) there are about 8 massive TVs. I think the transaction was legit though, because he gave me an instruction manual and a remote control (here is another sign that it was legit, I had to pay in cash). He asked twice, "So you guys want anything else?" So I said, "Yes. How about a bench press bar?" He thought about it for a second, asked me how much I'd be willing to spend ($10), realized he only had one rusty one, and then said, "Let me make my calls. I'll hook you up." I got the feeling that no matter what I would've asked for, his response would've been the same.

Later on, a friend with more street cred (she's black)(also, that was her reasoning for having more street cred, not mine, I thought I had more street cred than her because she's from Palm Springs area) told me that this was called hustling. Patrick is a hustler, and apparently a valuable contact. Bench press bars normally cost WAY more than $10. Whatevs. All in all, I really enjoyed the experience. I have since referred Patrick to 2 other people (including my friend with the street cred), all of whom want big TVs (32" Sony with picture in picture for $60).

Read More......

Jobbers

Today I learned about a special hospital. It seems like a normal hospital. It has an oncology division, eye specialists, internal medicine, etc. etc. etc., it even has a special breast cancer division. Normal, right? Here's the thing--it's an animal hospital.

Really--breast cancer? Today, a coworker said my blog was probably full of stuff about them, and it wasn't, so I thought I'd write some about them. That being said, please understand that I really like my coworkers a lot. I firmly believe that you can love people AND laugh at them though.

I learned about this hospital today when a coworker informed me that she was taking her dog in for a cat scan (oh, the irony). Anyway, there is a spot in her dog's eye which is apparently irritating the dog (though the dog is too nice to scratch its eye around her--such a polite beast), and so they need to do a cat scan to determine if the dog is going to need laser eye surgery or not. Another coworker told me that her cat (whom she takes to a cat therapist) has been diagnosed with a social anxiety disorder called pika or pyka or something (which is also apparently a real disease in humans). This disorder manifests itself through repeated attacks on her person by the aforementioned cat. She has scratches all over her arms, and came to work today with a new band-aid. I suggested what I thought was standard practice for animals that continually attack humans--mainly that she should kill the cat. Needless to say, this didn't go over well. I do hate cats.

I was going to try and type on this blog during lunch, which I was doing, until two coworkers decided they wanted to play matchmaker with me. This ended when, after listing what I was looking for, I added, "Oh, and I don't smoke or drink, and I'm not going to have sex until I'm married..." to which one's immediate response was, "Oh... well... that takes off everyone from my list." The other one agreed that her friends were too wild for me. They then asked me why I lived the "pure" lifestyle. I told them I was Mormon. One then asked me where I was from, and I said Chicago. She seemed surprised that I wasn't from Pennsylvania--where apparently there are lots of Mormons. There aren't. It took me another couple of seconds, but I realized (and so did she) that she was confusing Mormons with the Amish. She then asked what the difference was. Well, among other things, we use electricity.

Read More......

My New Job... My New Temporary Job

Did I mention that I started working at a major entertainment cable television channel in their casting department? Because I did... temporarily. I thought I wasn't going to like it, but I do. My first day there I mainly escorted pretty girls to the casting room and back to the waiting room. It was a beautiful thing to see gorgeous girls so nervous that their eyes got watery. I just like seeing the humanity in everyone. Did I mention that we do bikini casting? Because we do.

We even do topless casting for the Latin American version of our channel, and I told them I wouldn't be comfortable with that, and they said, "Oh, don't worry, we never have guys in the room for that anyway." I was also there in the meeting with 5 girls (I was the only guy) while they discussed exactly why they needed to do topless casting.

Anyway, yesterday we were auditioning a comic, and he made a Mormon joke, and then he made a Paris Hilton joke. Then he got all serious and looked at this one girl in the room who he knew went to Hollywood clubs and said, "Oh, I'm totally sorry if you know Paris. I don't know if you do or not, but I'm totally totally sorry. It's just a joke." Afterwards, I tried to explain why this was funny to my coworker who knows I'm Mormon--she opted for the polite "Oh, did he tell a Mormon joke? Oh, I guess he did. Oh, I didn't even notice that..." approach. Whatever--it was funny. Also, another coworker is teaching me new words. So far I've learned about getting some "strange" and "touching" someone. For example, "He's got to get over her! I told him to just go out there and have some strange and get over her." For another example, "I know this one guy--this R'n'B singer who travels around a lot. He's married, right? But he touches a lot of girls on the road." I bet you can probably understand what these words mean now too. I also got new glasses. I wanted to just replace the lenses in some old ones, but Costco refused, so I got some similar ones.

Read More......

The Tempest Temp of Them All

On Tuesday, I got a call to start a temp job on Wednesday at 10. Great, I said, but what if I get an interview for "real" employment? No problem, I was told, just let us know. Later that day, I got a call for an interview on Thursday, so I wrote my temp agency an email. At about 9:22 today, I called and talked to someone at the temp agency, after which I left for work. At 9:29, I got a call from my temp agency telling me to go back home--after hearing that I had an interview on Thursday, the company I was supposed to temp for decided they didn't want me. I must admit, I am laughing my heinie off.

Read More......

Did I mention that I'm unemployed?

In the last 2 weeks, I've read 1214 pages on vampires, and 207 pages on Steve Martin. In the last 2 weeks, I've looked into many jobs, including that of security guard and repo man assistant. Last night, I was with someone who decided to go vegan every January from now on. This person had to call their father, who kind of had a "What the hell, I'll do it too" attitude towards the whole endeavor, to ask if they could eat french fries cooked in peanut oil. Later that night, after they both enjoyed the garlic cheese bread, that person asked if vegans could eat fish, to which this person's father responded, "Why not? Fish aren't animals. Jesus ate fish." Why not, indeed? All in all, these last 2 weeks have been kind of damaging to my self-esteem.

Read More......

Killer Sushi

"Nine eleven?" I said. "How wildly innappropriate... Especially considering that it's a spicy tuna roll topped by a 'fiery' chili sauce. Doubly ironic because it's in the menu right next to the God Bless America roll."

"That's a nine one one roll."

"Oh...
Yeah...
Right."

Read More......

Hip or Mentally Retarded?

You decide.











Is this what happens when you start believing all the people that tell you you're cool? Because I used to volunteer with some really cool people at the state Mental Hospital. Okay, but really--I should stop judging these people.

Read More......

This Is Your New Life, pt. 2

Ah yes, the Rose Bowl. Funny--the 5 years I lived in Provo, I never once went to a football game. It was, as my uncle put it, "not so much an accident as a protest." But I'm only gone a week, and somehow I find myself at this UCLA vs. BYU game.

People stood up a lot. I didn't, hence the pic showing my POV of the game. Sometimes people cheered and I knew why, other times I didn't. I busied myself by trying to find cute girls (I saw my old freshman year crush, from afar) and also by yelling out random comments, sometimes sports related, sometimes not. "Threepeat!" was definately sports related. "Shut 'em down open up shop" was definately not. My cousin's friend was sitting next to me, and inquired as to the origin of that phrase. I told him, simply, "All I feel is pain, all I feel is rage." If you're up to speed on your late 90's gangsta rap, then you know that I misquoted DMX. He actually says "All I know is pain, All I feel is rain." That was from his classic 1998 album "It's Dark and Hell is Hot" Truer words, methinks, have never been spoken. He still didn't get the reference, so I then said "ratatatatatatatat TALK IS CHEAP MUTHA!" He remembered that. Needless to say, a lot of people didn't think me yelling "Real fans stay till the end!" and then leaving was funny, but I sure did.

Anyway, I've applied to over 80 jobs/internships, and have heard back on approximately 4 or 5. Here's one thing that I don't like about LA--it's made me start seeing everything in terms of money, and THAT, as a measure for life, is fairly dismal. Here's one thing that I do like about LA--the beach. It has always been a lifelong dream of mine to surf. I would like to check that one off the list. Also, I would like to check "smooch Lindsay Lohan" off the list.

Read More......

The New "Real" Me

Oh perfect! This is so appropriate...

Read More......

This Is Your New Life, pt. 1

Hello again, LA...

Read More......

I'm SOOOOO LA...

Wait--umm, did I mention that I was moving to LA. Because I just did. I'm there... now. Well, Valencia, but that's temporary. Can I claim LA already? What "valley" do I have to live in to claim LA?

Never ever ever ever ever drive straight for 11.5 hours on Labor Day weekend to LA. Especially when you start at 6 PM Utah time. Never do it. I almost died. I pulled over to sleep, but I just couldn't sleep. It would not come. Maybe it was the bright lights of the hotel/casino.

Now I'm here. Today I responded to about 20 different Craigslist "employment" opportunities. I say employment in quotations because I think they're really just looking for someone to work for free. It's funny--I have some interviews. You respond to these Craigslist things and you don't know what they're for or who they're for. Then when they email you you can look up their names on IMDB or whatever. As I go through their credits, or check out trailers for movies they've done or whatever, it's funny because I look at the trailer and think, "The movie I directed is better than this." And here I am, trying to work for them, for free--or whatever. Whatever.

Also funny, pretty much the only option I have for housing so far is a 35 year old guy that plays World of Warcraft. He's way nice though. I don't mind WoW. Also, there are people banging down the door to live there. We'll see what happens.

Finally--
Dear California Drivers,
You drive fast--that's cool. It's a little scary, but cool. Why are all of your cars new? Every single one. Except for the guy in the red hatchback (not new, but still shiny and in good shape) that thought I cut him off (though we both signalled and changed lanes at the same time, from the same lane to the same lane). My cousin turned around to see who was honking for 45 seconds straight. It was you. After that, you proceeded to tail me (wow you were close, that hatchback just has a tiny little front end). Finally you pulled up next to me in the suicide lane and just stared at me. You didn't care that other cars might want to turn, because you are an intense hard guy. Just like me. It's cool--I totally understand. It's just one of those things we hard guys do. Also, I'm buying a gun.
Love,
Dane

Read More......

So this is LA?

Somehow, Carter and I find ourselves in a truck with 4 19-yr olds going to the beach. We just met them a couple hours ago. It's 2 and the beach is still 30 min away.

Read More......

Secret Blogs

Well, I stumbled onto some girl's blog and noticed that she posted 3 really long posts... all in one day. Now, this girl lives in LA, and seeing as we might be in similar social circles, I can imagine that if I ever went to LA (and the chances for that seem to be getting better and better), I might run into her. "Wow," I thought to myself, "another good reason not to go to LA." Nevertheless, I posted a sassy comment anonymously on her blog. Anonymously because I don't want her to find my blog and see her friend's picture on it. See, that's another good reason not to go to LA. Want another reason? Once I went on a date with this girl. Little did I know, the next day she was moving to LA. It was a horrible date, but I was okay with it, because I knew she'd go to LA and I'd never see her again. About a year later, a job took me out to LA. While I was there, I went to church with some friends, and you will never guess who was there--that same girl. Fine, you probably did guess. I pretended like she didn't exist, which is what I normally do to girls when I'm embarrassed to see them again (that's another good story).

The point is that I thought, "Who has time to post so much onto a blog in a single day?" And now here I am, posting yet again... I really am into finding people's secret blogs. When I find one, I'll try and figure out who the person is for no other reason than the sole fact that I fancy myself an internet detective. Sometimes I'll do a blog search for the terms "secret" and "blog"-- clever, I know. Most of the secret blogs are abandoned blogs. I have found one that's still current and I did figure out who the person was. As I search for secret blogs, I run across mainly dumb things like dumb news blogs and dumb blogs from Russia (not dumb because i hate Russia, but because I can't tell if they're secret or not) and dumb blogs that are just used to make money off of AdSense. I also ran across this blog. Now if that just isn't the most secret blog ever... And this one is probably the most annoying... And you know what else? Apparently all teenage girls from foreign countries are more skilled at assembling a blog than me. Here's proof. Trust me--I could've linked to ten more of these. Singapore? Maybe--I don't really know. If the internet starts making me feel inadequate, I guess it'll be good for nothing. Real life already does that.

Read More......