Help my friend Marc & check out Steve's new stuff!

My friend Marc Andreyko is the awesome comic book writer behind Manhunter at DC Comics. The book is amazing and he's gotten a ton of critical acclaim, but like a lot of things out there if they don't have readers they won't keep the book running. BUT... there is a way we can help.

Wizard Magazine - the preeminent comics news mag - has their annual fan ballot up on their website (this is the round to become a nominee for their awards). If you would, click on this link and vote for Manhunter as your favorite female super hero. Yes, that means Wonder Woman won't win but that book is never going to get cancelled for a number of reasons we don't need to get into right now. But a nomination is the sort of thing marketing teams can use to keep books selling and it could really help Mark out.

If you want suggestions for other books, TV shows, or creators that I think should win (like my other friend Phil Jimenez for penciler or Allan Heinberg as favorite breakout talent), just let me know.

Only vote once. I'm told multiple votes will be disqualified. Thanks!

Check out Steve's new stuff from Disney!

It's that time of the month that we all know and love, when Steve has some new stuff premiering in the Disney Stores around the US. This week it's the Tinkerbell's Garden line, with all of these really cute plates, a tea set, votive candle holder (pictured right), trinket box, mirror plate (pictured above; I'm sure there's a more professional name for it, but he's in a meeting so I'm winging it here.), etc. You can't necessarily see her face in the mirror but the detail work is insane and she looks so cute! I'm always amazed by his work. (Yes, I am biased.)

And no, we don't have all of this stuff littering our house. We're not that gay... we just have it sitting around because we don't quite know what to do with it all yet.

As I get more products in I'll snap and post. Enjoy.

Downtown Discoveries

Steve and I ended up not going out anywhere this weekend because he was feeling a little ill, but by Sunday we were both stir-crazy from sitting in the house so we thought we'd take a little drive. However, it's never fun to be away from home and suddenly feel sick, and since I always want to exploit my multi-ethnic (and yet surprisingly non-existent) heritage, we decided to check out our 'hood downtown.

We started with some of the anime shops in Chinatown and let me just take a moment and say that Chinatown is one of the greatest lost opportunities in LA. This place could seriously rival San Francisco but it just looks worn down and tired in too many areas-- faded paint, non-working neon, graffiti, and probably the most vile public bathrooms I've seen in my life. And there are FAR too many "B" health ratings in the restaurant windows. I don't know if there's some sort of Chinassociation (I've haven't really communed with my Asian self recently) but they need to step it up, especially with the rest of downtown seeing such a resurgence. It could definitely become a place we and our friends would love to kick it.

And speaking of love, in Chinatown we discovered Realm, a super cool home store right in the old tourist area. Don't think that it's all Buddha heads and plastic Chinese restaurant plates that may or may not say, "Peace" in Chinese on them.

As you can see from this shot, the store is an old restaurant that's been converted into this cool store where they carry unique glasses, cocktail sets, statues, devil ducks, plates, napkins, candles and so many other items that I haven't seen anywhere else in LA. And trust me, I've written about a lot of stores in this town and shopped a lot since Steve and I bought the house, and that's a tough thing to say.

These are some beautiful glass coasters we bought and they match the new table (pictured underneath).
Then we shot into downtown proper. We wanted to hit the Fashion District but everything was closed except for those suspicious swap meets where they sell 10 T-Shirts for $1.
The upside was a ton of film shooting was happening in the old buildings like one at the Palace Theater. It looked like at least two major productions, and you know we love it whenever any money is being brought into downtown, especially the old Broadway Theater district.

But while cruising past all the bootleg Disney blankets with Steve's Tinkerbell and Princess drawings on them, I made a right turn and we suddenly found ourselves in skid row.

You know what? It's not as bad as the reports say. It's worse.

The street is literally abandoned, like in Escape from New York. Trash is strewn across the entire street while on both sides junkies line the dirty building walls like zombies, watching my little silver Hyundai pass with their half-mast yellow eyes. You know, I love my car with it's great gas mileage and little dent on the trunk, but in that moment it became painfully clear that if I was ever in it and attacked by a group of yellow-eyed zombies, my little silver love machine would be unable to protect itself or me. Indeed, that cute dent would make a perfect place for any hand to claw onto before ripping its way inside and dragging me out.

We later told our friend Meghan about the trip-- she's done research work down on skid row for some non-profits-- and she pointed out that these people are too cracked out to charge my car. But then she said that if they were jonesing for a fix or money there's no telling what they might do, and while my car is very poor by Hollywood standards to a guy coming off drugs it could appear like a beautiful piece of silver bling bling.

I often joke in this blog about how something startling will happen to us, so Steve and I will hold hands and scream as we run away. Not then. We literally grew deathly quiet and held our breaths as though just being on the street could somehow infect us with an addiction. I tried to not panic, not stare at the young guys who could have been clubbing next to me a week ago, tried to not slam on the gas and race out of there while inadvertently turning the wrong way down a one-way street. I did slam the lock down on my car door like a tourist in a bad movie about LA, and I wondered if I had the balls to just ram somebody with my sweet little car if I was ever attacked. I still don't have an answer.

We made it home safe but this is a serious problem. LA's skid row has been on the national news and for too long everyone has had an "out of sight, out of mind" attitude. But we can't keep pushing these people along and ignore that the problem is there. I don't know what the solution is, but I know that when you're exploring a small section of your neighborhood you should never have to wonder whether or not you have the guts to run someone over.

WORD OF THE WEEEEEKKKKKKK!!!!! (Feb. 26)

The word of the week is: Fresh Housekeeper
Definition:
Adjective. The stress-relieving clean scent that a dwelling provides after it has been tidied up and sanitized by hired help.


Used in a scene:
Steve opens the door after a long day of work creating toys for The Disney Store. He suddenly stops at the entrance, amazed.
STEVE: Honey! The house looks and smells so beautiful!
RICK: That would be the scent of fresh housekeeper.
STEVE: But Loyda seems to have done an even more exceptional job.
RICK: That's probably because I gave her daughters one of your new snowglobes as a gift.
STEVE: Oh... Can I have a glass of wine, please?

"She said WHAT?" - fun with Four Four & Oprah!

This is Miss Mumbles McGillicuddy. We met in San Diego at Hamburger Marys when Steve and I were there last weekend. This is how it happened...


Steve and our friend David are standing on the edge of the dance floor while I get two drinks from the bar. Miss Mumbles McGillicuddy is perched at the end of the bar-- as I'm told she always is-- and she grabs Steve on the shoulder so she can tell him something.

Miss Mumbles: Mumblemumblemumble.
Steve (screaming over music): What?
Miss Mumbles: Mumblemumblemumble.
Steve (screaming louder over music): WHAT?
Miss Mumbles: Mumblemumblemumble.
Steve (no clue, but sees me approaching): Oh, yeah, totally! Meet my boyfriend, Rick!

Miss Mumbles then grabs onto me, Steve takes his drink and rejoins our friend David. I distinctly understand her say, "You got a mumblemumblemumble there!" She's nodding at my ass. "Oh yeah, child! Mumblemumblemumble." She nods and starts dancing behind me like we're in a love train. Being polite, I shake it. "Oh yeah! Oh yeah! That's a mumblemumblemumble!" She then pulled me into a hug and Steve took these photos. Evidentally, no one at Marys can understand her-- like the bartenders never even know what she's ordering so they all just pour her something strong-- but I scored points for making out at least some of the conversation. Cheers!

CHECK OUT FOUR FOUR

I don't normally run commentary on movies or TV shows. I think people kind of expected it when I first started the blog because of my book, Mondo Homo. So I tried it. But to be honest, my pop-commentary felt lame compared to other people's blogs. I'm good when watching a show live, but who has the energy to take notes while watching a favorite program? It's too much like homework.

But then I discovered the dude over at Four Four who does such an amazing job. Seriously, his pop culture stuff is spot on, he does screen captures from the shows (like these from Project Runway), and the pictures of his cat are hilarious. Steve and I love him, and my thought is that if you already have someone who is doing such a great job, why do a half-assed attempt at your own?

After all, there's nothing worse than a half-ass, and you all know it.

And finally...

Our friend Danielle is in town from New York, on her way to Australia with our other friend Brian Dailey. Besides seeing he tonight, we're all toasting Brian's departure from Paramount. Here is Brian with his good friend Oprah Winfrey. We wish him good times and much luck on his new journeys (especially if his next job has an expense account so he can buy us a round of margaritas tonight!) Cheers again!

Allen's Star-Studded Birthday & WORD OF THE WEEEEEKKKKKKK!!!!!

Friday was our friend Allen Fogderude's birthday and we celebrated at Big Wang's in Hollywood. Stop it with the dirty thoughts! It's just a low-key hangout for spicy breasts, strips, thighs... okay, never mind, think dirty.

Anyway, Allen works at Paramount with our other friend Amy-- the duo with the poo slice story from a few weeks back. Here they are now.


Amy and Allen are two people who have really promoted me and this blog, and a lot of people they work with came up to chat with how much they enjoy the Mondo-Ricko blog. Some of them I've known from back when I did stand up comedy, most I only met through these parties, but it was really kind of crazy to talk with people who know about your life through your blog. Naturally I neglected to take pictures of any of them.

But here are Steve and I with local celebrity, Andrew Seeley. We just met on Friday but Andrew is a song writer who's on the top selling Disney soundtrack High School Musical. Like, he's on the Billboard charts and everything. Very cool.

And then there's Brian Davis! I happened on Brian's blog a while back, Intelligent Design, and it's really thoughtful and funny and mean and all the good things you want in a bitchy gay blog. I tried embarrassing him by threatening to sit on his lap, and when that didn't work I just plunked my 180 pounds down. He's now handicapable. He also turned me on to a great Word of the Week!

The word of the week is: Frienemy

Definition: Noun. A person one keeps close to himself-- as though the person were a friend-- when in actuality the person is his enemy and what he's really doing is keeping the person safely in his sights. These are the sort of people you use prevenge on.

Finally, Steve took this prom picture of Amy and I so that we could get a shot of these two straight brothers sitting in the background.

They were there the whole night, their expressions never changed. Steve called them The Brothers Grim. Cheers.

Fashion House in the news...

This will be over the news in the next day or so, but it seems our telenovela, which is now entitled Secrets: Fashion House will be the anchor show for Fox's new network. I've pasted the article below. Pretty crazy, but I guess this means I'm now working on a prime time show. Woo hoo!
-RA
-----------------------

February 22, 2006
Fox Prime-Time Net To Launch Sept. 5
By Michele Greppi
Fox announced Wednesday that it will launch a prime-time-only network, dubbed My Network TV, on Sept. 5 with just two hours of stripped programming and weekend wrap-ups of the programs.

At a packed press conference in midtown Manhattan, Peter Chernin, president and COO of Fox parent company
News Corp., touted Fox's "unprecedented track record" of success in launching new ventures.

"We will get this right," Mr. Chernin said. He said that the new network, which will target viewers 18 to 49 years old, will "be profitable from Day One" and will be promoted on other News Corp.-owned platforms, including cable channels and MySpace.com, the fast-growing personal Web page community.

My Network TV will be "a program service that doesn't take away from stations," said Roger Ailes, chairman of Fox News and Fox Television Stations, nine of which have been affiliated with UPN and were faced with filling the 8-10 p.m. weeknight block when the September merger of UPN and The WB into The CW was announced a month ago. "General managers have to be partners with us," he said.

My Network TV's first lineup will consist of two telenovela franchises. Each will offer stories designed to play out from beginning to end in 65-episode, 13-week arcs.

At 8 p.m. will be "Table for Three," running under the "Desire" label that has been in development for syndication by Twentieth Television for several months. Though "Desire" has been sold to stations reaching some 70 percent of the country, the contracts had contained recapture rights should Fox decide to launch a new network, according to executives. They would not offer details of the commercial inventory split in My Network TV programming, but said Twentieth sales teams were fanning out to make calls starting Wednesday afternoon and predicted they will sign up affiliates reaching 90 percent of the country.

At 9 p.m. will be the telenovela "Fashion House," running under the "Secrets" label.

Both feature attractive young casts -- four from each telenovela were introduced at the press conference -- and plots involving lust, betrayal and other staples of the genre that has proven popular around the world.

They are "all about guilty pleasures," said Fox Television Stations President Jack Abernethy, who predicted that My Network TV ratings will be higher than UPN's.

Among the other programs in development as five-night strips are "On Scene," a crime-oriented newsmagazine from Fox News; a quiz show tentatively titled "America's Brainiest" that is based in a British hit; "Catwalk," a competition for supermodel wannabes; and "Celebrity Love Island," a reality show on which the famous and not-famous seek love.

"There are at least two or three hit shows in that batch," Mr. Ailes said.

A video reel demonstrated how affiliated stations could brand local programming such as "My Yankees" or "My 9 News."

"Try that with The CW," said Fox Television Stations Operations President Dennis Swanson, who before joining the Fox stations group last year was chief operating officer of the Viacom-owned stations group that included 16 UPN stations.

Although the name of the new network clearly plays off youth- and celebrity-magnet MySpace.com, the famously sharp-tongued Mr. Ailes joked that it was chosen because "it sounds better than 'cwah.'"

For its part, The CW responded to the My Network TV announcement with a statement that read: "We wish their programming service well, but remain bullish on The CW's future as America's premier destination for young viewers. We are certain that no new network has ever launched with a roster of top young adult programming brands like The CW. Based on our roster of proven hit series that consistently rank number one or number two in young adult demographics, The CW will uniquely benefit and serve advertisers, stations and viewers alike."

The Mondo Homo Top 10 Rules For Any Gay Bar!

Queers are a curious culture and there is no better place to observe that than at a queer bar. Even when straights enter a gay space they are effected by the spirit of the location. Steve and I realized this after spending the weekend in San Diego with Jeff and John, Steve's gay brother and partner. Perhaps we noticed these things because San Diego is a smaller city so it's easier to observe the gay species in action, but fags and dykes are just plain funny. And I mean both "ha-ha" funny and, well, funny.

We went to Hamburger Mary's and came up with a list of items oblivious people should keep in mind whenever going out in public. They are...

The Mondo Homo Top 10 Rules For Any Gay Bar!

(please note, the photos are just here because I needed images, not for any other reason that could possibly get me sued)

1. Don't wear flip flops to a bar anymore. It's not summer, the fashion isn't that popular, and if you do then you have no right to complain if some sensible person in shoes steps on your freshly pedicured toes (you big wimp!).

2. Do not use the "Oh Mary!" pose; that is, do not stand with hands on hips akimbo and one hip jutting out like you should be a waitress in an episode of Alice.

3. No flailing! Remember how everyone in school called you a "fag" because you waved your hands whenever something dramatic happened? Well, we're going to do it again if you keep doing it at bars because in confined spaces you will hit people!

4. Keep your spare change to yourself. Neither strippers nor bartenders want a pile of nickels and pennies for tips because it's insulting. You look cheap. You also look like a social worker. Or a lesbian. Or all of the above. Standard practice is a buck a drink, more if they're pouring them strong.

5. Watch where you're going. Like being on the freeway, if you don't pay attention accidents can happen, and I don't care how nice his bum looks in those jeans. Likewise, if you spill someone's cocktail, apologize! For God's sake, it's your fault the least you could do is be a man and admit you made a mistake. If you want to really salvage the situation, offer to buy him a new one. If he's cute, you might even get lucky.

6. Don't grope the barback when his hands are full. Seriously, are you people idiots? He's carrying a heavy object, he may have had a hernia operation! You may think it's funny but he is sober. He also has every right to drop his cargo on your stupid faggoty ass-- especially if it's something like ice-- and just say "Ooops!" Think about it: if you wouldn't want someone doing it to you, then don't do it to them.

7. Make way for the freight train! If a barback or bartender is carrying something that will add to your enjoyment this evening-- clean glasses, ice, booze, a keg of beer-- then don't toss attitude at him if he needs to get through the crowd. After all, if he wasn't doing his job you would be sober, and none of us like that!

8. Don't tell a bartender how to pour a drink. He knows his job. If he's really messed up in some strange way--like using gin instead of vodka-- then ask him politely. One way to solve this situation is to avoid ordering Brandy Alexanders and other stupid drinks.

9. "Make me something juicy..." OH MY GOD STOP BEING SUCH A WOMAN! Especially when it's busy! I've seen this at every bar and it's the women or girly homos who always request that. Have a drink in mind before approaching the bar. Ask your friends for suggestions. If all else fails, order a vodka cranberry and shut up.

10. Know your turf. If you're a straight girl bringing your boyfriend to a gay bar, then be prepared to learn that you're dating a "boyfriend/girlfriend"; that is, a gay guy in disguise. If he is really straight, be prepared for him to enjoy getting attention from other guys, and don't start becoming bitchy because no one cares about your fancy boots or fake breasts. YOU ARE IN A GAY BAR! We are not there to get in your pants! So come and enjoy but don't start being a total American and throwing your needs onto other cultures (Zing! for political humor at this hour.)

My Day With Death Wish V

As you may recall, I had to cover Death Wish V for Paramount. Initially I wondered, "Who thought it was a good idea to make this movie?" Then I realized it took place in the high-powered and dangerous fashion industry, and suddenly I was engrossed! If nothing else, perhaps I could find something useful for Desire: Fashion House the telenovela I'm working on for FOX right now. Sweet!

Death Wish V: The Face of Death!

Olivia Regent (Lesley-Anne Down) is a sexy fashion designer showing her bondage-esque line at a runway show in New York.

The scene is fast paced. Lots of gay people. Very real feeling... except for the cheap and flimsy designs worn by the shortest models in the history of fashion, BUT they're more than willing to be topless in front of the camera. Welcome to the Death Wish franchise.

Into the show walks our hero, Paul Stewart (Charles Bronson) who sits next to Chelsea, Olivia's daughter, to watch the fashion show. Wait? Paul Stewart? But wasn't it Paul KERSEY in the last films?

Yes. It seems that after four previous Death Wish films where Paul Kersey blasted every criminal in New York and Los Angeles, someone placed him in the Witness Protection Program and moved him BACK TO NEW YORK WHERE THE STORY ALL BEGAN. Because, after all, it's such a large city that if we place you in a college teaching architecture-- the career you were known for-- and keep your same first name, there's no real chance you'll run into anyone you knew from your high-powered architect firm 20 years ago when this franchise first launched. Hell, you only looked 60 back then, so there's no way anyone will recognize you with that gut now.

Anyway, it turns out that years ago, Olivia did what many of us do and married an Irish Mafia overlord named Tommy O'Shea (Michael Parks) who is using the fashion industry to launder his dirty money. Olivia isn't the only company, but she's the only one that matters, and when she tells him to get lost while his henchmen oogle the short topless models, he grabs her by the wrist and says she has no choice. Then he and his men go downstairs into the factory where white people and a sprinkling of minority extras are sewing garments; evidentially, you gotta work late into the night for Olivia Regent. There, Tommy and his men rough up the fat man running the assembly room by placing him on a table and cutting his love handle with a jig saw, then threaten to toss him in a vat of bubbling acid. Why is there a jigsaw and a vat of bubbling acid? Who can say?

Meanwhile, Paul goes backstage to congratulate Olivia because she's his new girlfriend (This fugly dude not only gets more sexy women than Woody Allen but everyone he loves winds up dead; as Death Wish goes, this moment is considered foreshadowing...). But when Paul touches Olivia's wrist she cringes in pain and he sees that it is so black and purple that it looks like she has gangrene. He learns that Tommy did it and takes Olivia downstairs to confront the mobster-- the fat foreman has left to get medical treatment. There Paul and Olivia run into Tommy and his two henchmen (Sal and Chicki Paconi). Chicki (Kevin Lund, who isn't worth mentioning except that he did a voice for the anime cartoon Sailor Moon) is this lumbering dude who likes sucking on lollipops, and he draws a gun. Tommy asks if guns make Paul nervous.

“Guns have their uses," Paul says. "Idiots with guns make me nervous.” ZING! Fortunately, there's no fight because Chelsea (Erica Lancaster)suddenly appears. As a side note, Erica Lancaster is not stellar-- can you say "Canadian Content"?-- but her presence is enough to make Tommy and his boys leave.

Breaking his secret identity, Paul calls the District Attorney's office to meet with Brian Hoyle (Saul Rubinek - another Canadian with a huge credits list who probably wonders what the hell he was doing in this fillm.) Brian meets Paul along with this other government guy, Hector Vasquez (played by Miguel Sandoval, another character actor who wonders what the hell he's doing in this film, though my guess is paying the rent.) Needless to say, they're excited about locking up a bastard like Tommy.

CUT TO a restaurant where Paul proposes to Olivia as Tommy and his boys all show up for dinner as well (New York is a small town). Olivia nervously spills champagne on her dress-- I hate women who can't hold their liquor-- and she has to go to the restroom where A TRANSVESTITE HITMAN IS WAITING FOR HER BECAUSE TOMMY MUST HAVE KNOWN SHE WOULD SPILL SOMETHING.

LESSON TIME For those of you who don't know, a drag queen is a gay man who dresses like a woman. A transsexual is someone who has had the operation. A transvestite or cross-dresser is not necessarily gay, and though Robert Joy who plays Freddie "Flakes", the hitman with dandruff, may look like a gay Canadian he is later shown with a big boobed gal, probably because the producers feared that their audience wouldn't go for a homo hitman. This is why I call him a transvestite.

So as Freddy the cross dressing killer gushes about how much he loves Olivia's clothing (what, what what???), he smashes her face into the mirror and warns her to leave Tommy alone. Oh, we also find out he's schizophrenic because-- well, isn't it obvious?-- that homos are messed up in the head. Freddy leaves, Paul sees him, finds Olivia, and she's rushed to a hospital. Paul suspects there's a mole in the DA's office so he tells Brian she will not be testifying against Tommy.

Later, in the best-acted scene of the film because it contained only REAL ACTORS, Brian and Hector (pictured here) make small talk until Paul shows up to tell Brian that Olivia will testify. Big mistake because someone in this room is a mole, and it ain't the Jew it's the minority.

So that night, a scarred Olivia (Is she the face of death? I'm so confused.) tells Paul she doesn't want her daughter to see her, meaning that this self-obsessed woman has not allowed her scared daughter to see her since getting her face shoved into a mirror! At first I think about how cruel that is, but then I think about Chelsea's acting and just go with it. Finally, Freddy Flakes (in men's clothing) shows up with possesy and kills Olivia, thus motivating Paul to take out the gun again and get his revenge.

Insert Chelsea with her back to the camera saying in the mosmonotonene dubbed voice ever: "I miss mom. I wish she were here…” Duh. Tommy then shows up and takes Chelsea because he's now the legal guardian. Why? Eh...

So Paul first goes after Chickie the guard and sprinkcyanidenide onto his canolli. The hitman eats it and dies. The second death is Freddie Flakes, who while taking a bath with a woman we shall call BoMcGeeaGee (pictured here), hears the alarm go off outside his house. Naturally paranoid, he dresses in leather pants and a bullet proof vest, sees a remote controlled soccer ball, picks it up and then explodes. Take thatQaidaaida! Paul then calls a meeting with Brian, but Hector shows up to kill Paul-- nice try-- Paul is too fast a shot and Hector dies. Brian realizes the sort of double dealing that has been going on in his office and says, "Paul... I wasn't even here."

Now scared, Tommy uses his daughter as bait to lure Paul to the fashion house where Tommy has changed Olivia's line to look like chainmail merchandise from Cher's Sanctuary catalogue. Big firefight, Chelsea gets away, bad guys use grenade launchers because that's smart, and Paul knocks Tommy into the vat of acid, thus explaining why there was a vat of acid in twarehouseouse!

Thus the ultimate hunter in the concrete jungle walks off, telling the officers that if they ever need a hand again, all they have to do is call him.

Thank God they don't.

And at this point I wonder: Am I the only person besides Charles Bronson who has seen all of these movies? Oy!

San Diego at Large

Steve and I are off to San Diego tomorrow for the holiday weekend and we've made no plans to see anyone in hopes of relaxing a bit. I hope to be up to speed again for blogging next week, have some more Words of the Week, etc.

We're also going to have our handy cameras on us (well, in theory...) so if you see the two of us out and about-- because we love to hang out at the bars-- then say hi and we'll snap your pic for the blog.

And so I say unto you this weekend, go out and get laid!

New work and the show we DON'T have on LOGO

Here's the cover of the new Comic-Con Update magazine that I put together for the convention in San Diego. You can get your free copy, or a PDF version, here.

Have you all heard the buzz regarding the new show Rick and Steve: The Happiest Gay Couple on Earth?

Well, just so's you know it has nothing to do with us, the flesh and blood Rick and Steve. This was originally an animated short made with Lego type characters from writer/director Q. Allan Brocka. It's about Rick, an insatiable Asian bottom, and Steve, the white versatile top (so you see, it's not even that even cosmically close to our reality...)

When the real Steve and I started dating, Allan was showing these shorts at Outfest, the Los Angeles Gay & Lesbian Film Festival. He has now sold a series version to LOGO, the gay network owned by MTV. But a recent article from Reuters just listed that they were scripting an original animated series called Rick and Steve. And in case you're wondering, Lego requested all photos be removed from Allan's site which is why there are none here, but new toys are being made for the LOGO show.

Because Steve is an animator and I'm a writer who worked in film and TV development for years, friends naturally assumed it was our show. It's not. But they are pretty great so when the series comes on you should watch it or visit Q. Allan Brocka's site and find out about it now.

But please, don't mistake me for an insatiable Asian bottom. My mother sometimes reads this blog.

Valentine's Day Babies..

I know people probably expect me to write something about Valentine's Day-- or VD as I like to think of it-- and though Steve brought me this gorgeous bouquet I'm just burned out on writing this week. It happens. Every now and then I have a few days where I just can't get inspired to write. Perhaps it's because I've been going nonstop on the telenovela, or perhaps it's because I spent my weekend watching Death Wish V, which I WILL be blogging about in a day or so.

However, if you want to read a pretty funny story and comments on Valentine's Day, check out my friend Wil's blog. Pretty great.

Steve and I stayed home last night and practiced our new holiday ritual: pizza, wine, classic movie. We did it for New Years, and last night we watched The Philadelphia Story with Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn, and James Stewart. Directed by George Cukor of The Women fame, it's fast paced and fun. Just what we wanted.

BUT, the highlight of last night was that Michelle and Lynn, who had that drag queen baby shower a couple weeks back, finally had their baby boy last night! It was so fantastic to get the call from Meghan saying that Christopher was born Feb 14 at 7:24pm; he weighs 7 pounds 10 ounces and is 21 inches long. Mothers and baby are doing wonderful!!!

So really, Steve and I know we have our love for one another-- we prefer celebrating it on non-Hallmark holidays-- but if we do get caught up in the game then it's great to have that moment highlighted by the birth of a beautiful baby within our extended family. This was probably one of the best Valentine's Day's ever.

Buy the Brokeback Mountain shirt

Variety - The Children's Charity's Mission is to assist addicted, abused, neglected and physically-challenged children. They havethis eBay auction for the two shirts Jack had in the film Brokeback Mountain. Ninety-cents of each dollar raised goes to aid their special needs children and they are a 501(c)3 non-profit organization.

From the eBay auction write up...
The two shirts that Jack's mother gave to Ennis for him to remember Jack by. This is more than just a costume; this prop is an integral part of the story.

If you're interested, click away; the auction ends in nine days. They have some other cool memorabilia that goes to a great cause as well.

Weekend, Weather, and Work

It's unseasonably warm in Los Angeles right now. Not that I'm complaining. It's winter, the temp is 80 degrees and dry, our windows are open, the scent of night blooming jasmine from our backyard is filling the office and bedroom, the sky only has a few clouds and that mucus-colored smog of summer hasn't decided to take residence yet; I'm also working from home in shorts and a T-shirt so really, life is good.

Until you get an e-mail saying you missed a deadline.

This is not a normal thing for me-- honest-- but with the telenovela I haven't really been looking at my calendar and just found out that I missed a submission for my copy writing gig at Paramount. No worries, they usually assign things in advance for just such a flaky moment, but now the problem is the weather.

Generally, when it's this beautiful during the week, you can make a money bet that the weekend is going to be covered with clouds and possibly rain. It's the Murphy's Law of Los Angeles. But this weekend it's supposed to stay in the 80s and Steve and I were thinking of heading to the beach, maybe roller blading (it's free, you know), perhaps taking a stroll through Descanso Gardens to see if there were any ideas to inspire our backyard... and now I have to stay home and watch three movies.

Again, let me back up (like any US President at a press conference) and clarify that I love my gig with Paramount. I get paid to watch movies and then write a one-page synopsis with a couple tag lines. Things like (insert deep announcer voice): "Charles Bronson is the ultimate hunter of the concrete jungle in the explosive box office success, DEATH WISH!" It's pretty easy work, and I even get some great gigs-- like last year I had to do the copy writing for all of Star Trek: Enterprise.

Yeah, okay, roll your eyes but I'm a geek and never watched the show and when you're paid to watch it, then it's a whole world of good. Plus, I now know how to spell nearly every Star Trek species from Romulan to Bajoran. But I digress...

The issue is that this weekend I'm watching a good film like Serpico, followed by Death Wish V and Blue Chips.

While I have no idea if Blue Chips is any good, and I'm sure the makers of the Death Wish franchise had hopes and dreams pinned on this motion picture, I do not want to be chained to my computer writing about these films! I want to be out where the birds are free and where troubles melt like lemon drops. I can't even make it a date thing because the only VCR is in the office and besides, I really can't subject Steve to Death Wish without severe penalty.

But then I just had an epiphany. Just now. As I was typing this... It was my head saying, "Stop blogging you idiot and get your frickin' work done and you can have a weekend."

So goodbye.

Oh, poo!

Poo makes me laugh. On one hand I think that's a sad statement because it seems so base and immature, and yet when I hear a funny poo story I can't help but laugh... and share it with my friends.
Last Friday our friends Amy and Allen came over, and we always have some good laughs with them. Amy and I took Groundlings improv/comedy classes together and then she performed in this stand-up show I produced years ago. Allen is her roommate and immediately became a friend in the process.

The last time they came over it was to see the house, and since we're living a Ghetto Fabulous life, Amy bought me a fun hat. She also wore these fantastic pink boots that we loved. Good food, fun conversation, yadda, yadda, yadda. (Below is a pic of me wearing the hat and my pimped out Playboy Mansion glasses from the 1960s that I got from my former boss, Paul Aaron. As you can see, Amy and I have our tickets to the gun show; BANG BANG!)

So Amy tells us that after the party the duo left and got into their car. Amy had to cross some grass in those same fabulous pink boots, but needless to say, this area isn't West Hollywood or Beverly Hills where you get ticketed if you don't curb your dog; hell, in Echo Park you can pick up everything from an old couch or mattresses to stray animals and obese children.

As Allen drove them home, Amy started smelling the offender but Allen thought she was imagining it. She then picked up her water bottle from the floor of the car.

"POO SLICE!" Amy screamed at the top of her lungs when she saw the offending feces sticking in a long brown slab on the side of the water bottle in her hand. "Poo slice! Poo sssslllliiiiiccccceeeee!!!!"

There was much screaming. The car swerved.

"Throw it out the window!" Allen yelled, cringing at the crap that may hit him as well.

But Amy wouldn't litter. She made him pull off the freeway, where Allen found a random Burger King napkin in his glove compartment and used it to wipe some of the gunk off while Amy cried. He then littered.

They eventually made it home but by then realized that Amy's bodacious boots were the offending carriers. She sealed that pretty pink pair in a bag and left them on their porch, where those hot heels sat untouched FOR TWO MONTHS. She had just cleaned them before coming to our place, but hasn't mustered the courage to put them on again.

Then there's Rick G. He and his partner, Matt, bought their condo shortly after Steve and I got ours, and we spent some time with them this past Saturday. Rick is a professional dancer-- and yes his time in the musical Cats counts, but when he was in school he had an even greater gastro-intestinal experience.

Picture it: New York. Some time ago...Rick and his female dance partner (We'll call her "Patty") are in a major dance program that, if they impress the assembled instructors and professionals, could launch their entire careers. But here's the thing... many female dancers take diuretics to help stay slim. Ew, I know. Anyway, Rick dances out on stage in his tights, does his pose, Patty glides out-- JUMPS up -- and sits on Rick's shoulder with a barely audible but nevertheless panicked, "Oooh!"

Poised as ever, Rick spins around with her on his shoulder-- all the while wondering what's wrong-- faces the audience, and then Patty slides across his chest and down onto the ground... leaving a smelly brown streak across his chest! From either nerves or pills or the athletic requirements (runner's trots are common, you know) she lost control of her bowels and left a lasting impression!

Patty looks at Rick, does a pirouette (or something like that) and immediately glides off the stage where the director attempts to somehow clean her tights. Rick now has the horrible realization that he's not only missing his dance partner but he's also sporting a poo sash, and all of it is happening in front of a crowd that could make or break his career.

So what does Rick do? Boldly finishes the performance alone.

As Rick said on Saturday, "And that established my career as a soloist."
...
Steve and I still haven't stopped laughing about those two stories.

Aliki Sells her Cartoon to Nickelodeon!!!!!

Hey Guys,
Not sure if you've been checking out the links to the right but I have one for our friend Aliki Theofilopoulos who has been developing her short at Nickelodeon. Well, the fantastic news is that this short is still being created but in the meantime she sold her Girls on the Go series. Here is a picture of the lead girl opposite Yaki and Yumi, the characters from her short.

When you see someone who has worked so damn hard to make a dream come true, and then see something happen, it's a true victory. You can read all about it on her Yaki and Yumi blog, and as more cool stuff develops I'll keep you in the loop.