THINGS THAT MAKE ME LAUGH

People falling down
People running into walls and other immovable objects
Snoring
Farting
Toilet humor
People who take themselves too seriously
Funny words
Funny faces
Extreme silliness
Some forms of insanity
Really smart jokes
Little kids
Pot brownies

PIKERLOGUE -- HEY JUNE

My Girl and I have been back in LA for a few days now, reacquainting ourselves with our LA friends and re-establishing our routines. Returning home after a lengthly vacation is never an easy task, but after such a satisfying three weeks on the East Coast, the transition back to life in the Wild West has been a relatively smooth one. As I type out this public diary of our travels, I'm bombarded by mixed emotions. I'm elated to have spent such quality time with so many people, yet I'm dejected by thought of it all becoming an instant part of my past. As my globetrotting, world-wise friend Missy says, "I'm all about nostalgia. It's why I make memories in the first place." Ultimately, I'm thankful I had the opportunity to take such a long and leisurely vacation and overjoyed to have shared it all with such a special person. That's My Girl.

Sunday, June 1

Gorgeous Durham day, sunny and windy. Ran 4 miles on the Duke cross-country trail. My Girl's Mom and Chloe ran halfway, then walked the rest. I went with My Girl's Mom to her office on the Duke campus to use her computer to make the prior Piker entry, while My Girl stayed at home to work on her Six Feet Under piece. My Girl's Mom and I met My Girl's Sister and Brother-In-Law and Heather at My Girl's Sister's house and we followed them to the movie theater to see "Finding Nemo." We all thoroughly enjoyed the movie, both for its intelligent humor and its incredibly vibrant computer animation. My Girl's Mom, My Girl, and I went to the supermarket, shopped, and used the automated checkout (a first for me). Went to My Girl's Sister's house for a flank steak dinner, during which we thought up names for the unborn child of My Girl's Sister and My Girl's Brother-In-Law. After dinner, My Girl and I went to Perri and Carter's, hung out for a bit, then went to their neighbor's house to watch the Six Feet Under finale. For reasons beyond us, HBO did not work on the main TV. Halfway through, we found another TV in the house where HBO came in fuzzy but watchable. My Girl felt like she had to watch it, but I refused and instead chatted with Perri, who had never seen a single episode of Six Feet Under.

Monday, June 2 -- MY GIRL'S BIRTHDAY!

My Girl woke up early to work on her Six Feet Under piece. I slept in and then woke up to watch the Six Feet Under finale, which had arrived first thing in the morning on videotape via FedEx courtesy of the HBO publicity department. Loved the riveting finale to another remarkable season of television's very best program. Lunch at Chili's in Durham. Ventured to Chapel Hill and drove down famed Franklin Street and all around the massive UNC campus. Parked and tried to go see "Bend It Like Beckham", but the local weekly incorrectly listed a Monday matinee and left us high and dry. Browsed Schoolkids Records, where My Girl bought an album by Pinback called "Blue Screen Life". Had a beer at Top of the Hill, a brewery and bar overlooking the college town, before meeting My Girl's Family for dinner at The Flying Burrito. Went back to My Girl's Sister's house for a scrumptious chocolate cake made by My Girl's Mom and Mochi balls. My Girl opened her presents -- a digital camera from My Girl's Mom and myself, fancy hand cream and a hilarious candle-holding metal sculpture of a dog from My Girl's Sister and Brother-In-Law. I also presented My Girl with a tear-inducing poem I wrote special for her birthday. Yes, Piker can be quite the sentimental sap.

Tuesday, June 3

Ran 4 miles on the Duke cross-country trail. Watched the first set of the Andre Agassi-Guillermo Coria match while My Girl did some yard work. Met Jimmy for lunch at Mad Hatter's. Raced to Raleigh to catch the IMAX movie "Everest" at the Exploris museum. Missed the first few minutes, but caught the rest of the impressive climb to the summit of the world's tallest mountain. Went for an authentic North Carolina barbecue meal, served family style, at Bullock's with My Girl's Family and Preston, a 13 year-old boy being tutoree of My Girl's Mom. Watched the Miss Universe pageant, rooting mainly for Miss Japan who finished fifth, and some of "America's Next Top Model", rooting mainly for a meteor to knock out the satellite transmitting UPN's signal.

Wednesday, June 4

Ran 3 miles on the Duke cross-country trail. Drove through Chick-Fil-A for a late lunch. Watched the Albert Costa-Tommy Robredo French Open quarterfinal match from the third set on, witnessing Costa's unprecedented third comeback from a two sets to love deficit in the tournament. As if that wasn't enough, we then watched the five-set thriller between Juan Carlos Ferraro and Fernando Gonzalez. Drained from almost five hours of watching tennis, My Girl and I went to upscale shopping area Brighleaf Square to get My Girl's Mom a thank you card and gift. My Girl's Mom made a delicious dinner for us, with My Girl's Brother-In-Law joining us from the beginning and My Girl's Sister coming late after performing surgery at work. The meal included pork tenderloin, potatoes with ugly celery root, and salad, but the highlight was an unbelievable crabmeat in butter appetizer. After dinner, we said goodbye to My Girl's Sister and Brother-In-Law, then packed up our stuff and prepared for an early morning departure.

Thursday, June 5

Woke up at 4:45 am EST. My Girl's Mom and Chloe drove us to the airport to catch our 6:30 flight out of Raleigh-Durham. Said goodbye and thank you to My Girl's Mom and goodbye to Chloe. As My Girl's Mom got in the car to go, I turned and saw Chloe run up and nudge My Girl's Mom on the left side of her face, as if to say "It's okay. I'm sad too." My Girl and I caught our flight to Charlotte, then our connecting flight to LAX, and despite some serious turbulence over the Midwest and the ridiculous last half hour of "The Recruit", we landed safe and sound in The City of Angels at 11 am PST. V-Rat picked us up at the airport in my 1989 Toyota Celica convertible, but by the time we got in the car, he didn't have enough time to drop us off at home and borrow my car to get to work. So, we went with him all the way to Woodland Hills and dropped him off. On our way home, we stopped at Baja Fresh for lunch. As we waited for our food, I returned a phone call about a possible job, had a great conversation with the producer, and all but secured employment on yet another first-year sitcom for the season. My Girl and I shared a Fat Boy Special, rejoiced at my good fortune, then finally headed home. After a few hours of settling in, V-Rat called for a pickup and ride home. My Girl and I drove back to Woodland Hills to pick him up and drove him back to my apartment with the intention of driving back to My Girl's apartment to spend the night. But, we ran out of steam and decided to sleep at my apartment and return to hers in the morning. We collapsed on the couch and watched "The Thin Red Line" on DVD. I had never seen the movie and was blown away by the beautifully-photographed meditation on WWII and the interconnectedness of all human beings. By the time the movie was over, it was 1:45 am PST. My Girl and I had been up for a full twenty-four hours.

PIKERLOGUE -- MAY DAYS

People often ask, "Piker, how is it that you seem to do an incredible amount of traveling despite the fact that you're such a piker?" To them I reply, "Whether you're the heaviest of hitters of the most pathetic of pikers, all you have to do is let go of convention and imagine that anything is possible." Well, several months ago, My Girl and I put our furry heads together and dreamed up a magical vacation to the East Coast. Two days in Durham, NC, followed by two weeks in New York, capped off by another week in Durham. To keep costs down, as pikers often must do, we flew for free using a couple of US Airways vouchers we got for being bumped off a flight last year. To further keep costs down, as true pikers are wont to do, I suggested we rent a car to drive from Durham to New York instead of purchasing an additional flight. Little did Piker know, My Girl's Mom would dig deep into her kind heart and allow us the use of her Honda CRV for the entire length of the New York leg of our journey. So, all told, our travel costs totaled $60 to fill the gas tank there and back. Not only did it cost us next to nothing to travel, but thanks to the boundless generosity of my second family -- The Schiffers -- we barely had to reach into our pockets for living accommodations while we stayed in the most expensive city in the universe. There were many people who were kind to us along the way, but this amazing sojourn would not have been possible without the goodness of My Girl's Mom and The Schiffers (including Leslie). To them, we are eternally grateful. Below you will find a day-by-day summary of our fantastic voyage.

Wednesday, May 14

Flew from LA to Charlotte, then Charlotte to Raleigh-Durham. My Girl's Mom picks us up at RDU when we arrived after 11 pm.

Thursday, May 15

Ran the Duke cross-country trail. I did four miles, My Girl did three. Hit the drive-thru at Chik-Fil-A and feasted back at My Girl's Mom's house. My Girl's Mom cooked turkey BBQ for dinner. My Girl's Sister and My Girl's Brother-in-Law ate with us. (Shh! Don't tell My Girl's Brother-in-Law it was turkey.)

Friday, May 16

Woke up early and used My Girl's Mom's Honda CRV to drive up to New York City. Wind and rain turned an 8 1/2 hour drive into a 10-hour one. Got to the city and stopped off at Jason and Jodie's apartment. My Girl finally got to meet J & J. Drove crosstown and unloaded our luggage at Mark and Leslie's luxurious apartment 5A on the Upper East Side, then went to a pub for drinks and dinner with Mark and Leslie.

Saturday, May 17

Walked around Soho with Jason. Met Jake in the East Village @ Telephone Bar to grab a beer and watch The Preakness. Delicious dinner and drinks at Ruby Foo's in Times Square with J & J. Burlesque show @ Fez with J & J and for Jodie's friend Liz's birthday.

Sunday, May 18

Brunch at Hot & Crusty with Mark, who detailed the Israel-Palestine conflict for us clearly and concisely. Subway to Williamsburg, Brooklyn for a day with Andrea and Adam. Walked through some galleries, ate lunch on a patio outside at some hip place on a beautiful day, chilled in a park on the banks of Brooklyn. Italian dinner in Williamsburg with A & A, Kirchner, and Temma. Played "Celebrity" @ Andrea's until almost 2 am.

Monday, May 19

Went to the Salon office in the late afternoon to check out the space. Party @ Bowl-Mor in honor of My Girl and another visiting journalist. Hung out with Jake, Cynthia, Kerry, and others. Dinner at Coffee Shop with Kerry, Joan Walsh, and Lisa DiPaulo. Drinks with Kerry @ Luna Park in Union Square.

Tuesday, May 20

Walked through Central Park on 72nd Street to meet my college buddy Carey at a Starbucks on the Upper West Side. Chatted with Carey (who is now an Orthodox Jew) for a few hours, then stopped by to see Meg and The H-Bomb before going to Jason and Jodie's for dinner. After a delicious home-cooked, three-course meal, the four of us watched the penultimate episode of American Idol and the gut-wrenching finale of 24.

Wednesday, May 21 - DAVID SCHIFFER'S BIRTHDAY

Braved the horrible Long Island Expressway traffic to meet Linnie and Artie for lunch in Great Neck. (We were an hour and a half late.) After lunch we browsed the store -- Linda Silver Designs -- before continuing on to Melville to settle in at Casa Schiffer. To celebrate My Godfather's birthday, we revived our Wednesday night tradition, eating good-quality half-priced sushi at Empire Szechuan and then 2 for 1 sundaes at Carvel. Unfortunately, Mark and David needed to go back to work to solve an urgent business problem, so My Girl and I rushed home to watch the American Idol finale with Linda. Happy to see Ruben win over the Off-Broadway-bound Clay.

Thursday, May 22

Drove to the South Shore of Long Island for a tour of my early childhood. Took the Meadowbrook Parkway to the Loop Parkway to Lido Beach Boulevard to Long Beach Road. Made the pilgrimmage to Harbor Isle and 236 Island Parkway, the residence in which my maternal grandparents raised my mother and aunt, and the house I am most nostalgiac for out of any from my past. Ate lunch at Easy Bay Diner, where my mother and father used to go for cheeseburgers when they were dating. Uncharacteristically, I ordered steak and eggs and was not disappointed. Using the Nassau County map, we tracked down 460 Bunker Drive in Oceanside, the house I lived in with my parents and brother until I was five years old and our family left Long Island for the sunshine and humidity of South Florida. Regrouped at Casa Schiffer before driving into The City for pizza and beer at David and Meg's and the draft lottery, which cast a palpable disappointment over the group when the Miami Heat landed in the number five slot instead of one of the top three coveted positions. Those in attendance included Craig and Michelle, Fuchs, J & J, and of course Dave and Meg. Drove back to Long Island to spend the night.

Friday, May 23

Woke up early and packed up for the weekend. Hit the ATM, drugstore, bagel place before heading to the Bayshore train station. Parked and took the shuttle van to the ferry, which we took to reach the Three Gables house on Fire Island at 1pm. Played a couple afternoon games of Scrabble with J-Rat, V-Rat, and Rotblut and ate bagel sandwiches cooked by New York fireman and all-around nice guy Joe. Shareowners trickled in until the bulk of The Core -- Missy, Michele, Sandra, Cassandra, and Amiel -- arrived around 8pm and the weekend began in earnest. Walked to town and hit the bars, drinking heavily and dancing wildly at The Albatross before taking over the pool table at Hauser's until closing. Walked back to the house as the sun was coming up.

Saturday, May 24

Jen and Jesse arrived to fill out The Core group. Played two-on-two football on the deserted beach with J-Rat, V-Rat, and Rotblut while My Girl and Michele sat on the beach and watched. On the last play, I layed out for a ball, going fully parallel, and had the ball in my hands until I landed and the ball punched me in the nose, drawing blood and ending the game without a single pass being completed. Being that the weather was overcast and dreary, we hung out in the house the rest of the day, playing more games of Scrabble and laughing about the silliest shit I couldn't possible begin to recount. Early evening ushered in the casual drinking. Joe and Sandra spearheaded a group effort to cook up a make-your-own-chicken burrito feast. Then the drinking got serious. Again, went into town to imbibe and girate at The Albatross, and once again, the sun started to rise as we stumbled back to the house.

Sunday, May 24

Huddled on the screened-in porch on another nasty, chilly day, The Core watched a double-fantastic double-feature of "Almost Famous" and "American Beauty", neither of which Rotblut had seen before. Half the group went out for dinner and half, including My Girl and I stayed in for a burgers and dogs BBQ. A fractured game of Pictionary fizzled out and gave way to a 12-player, 3-team game of Celebrity. After much coaxing and repeated explanation of the simple rules, the majority of the group takes to the game like an addict to methadone. The game actually had to be curtailed due to extremely loud laughter during the"acting out the celebrity name" round while some of the shareowners were trying to sleep. Milked a few more hours of laughs out of Rotblut as we walked into town at 4pm to track down a couple of slices and an ATM.

Monday, May 25 -- MEMORIAL DAY OBSERVED

Braved a torrential downpour to run into town to solve the nagging ATM problem. Returned to the house thoroughly drenched from head to toe. Gathered our luggage, said our goodbyes, and braved the conditions yet again to make the 11:20am Seaview Ferry. My Girl and I talked to Jesse on the ferry ride and laughed as we immediately reminisced about the freshly-finished Fire Island weekend. I talked and laughed so hard the crusty old lady sitting in front of me had to cover her ears and switch seats with her undoubtedly miserable husband. Reached the mainland and took a crowded shuttle van back to the train station, where we parted ways with Jesse, found our car, and changed out of our soaked clothes. Drove out to the North Fork of Long Island (the antithesis of the much-ballyhooed South Fork known as The Hamptons) and arrived at the brand-new compound on the bay built from scratch by my cousins Arlene and Ed. Ate wraps for lunch with Arlene and Ed and my Aunt Ellen and her two boys, my two first cousins Seth and Eli, who were in from Amherst, Mass. Toured the state-of-the-art house, complete with digital weather station, surveillance equipment, a wine refrigerator, a poolhouse, a putting green and sand trap, among other amenities and modern conveniences. Watched the video of Eli's high school basketball state championship and chatted for a few hours before the time came for everyone to return to their normal lives. Ellen, Seth, and Eli left to catch the ferry back to Connecticut to retrieve their car to drive back to Massachusetts. Arlene and Ed packed up to head back to their apartment in The City. And My Girl and I cruised on the L.I.E. back to Exit 50 and Casa Schiffer, where we ate a take-out Chinese dinner with The Schiffers, then hung out and exchanged stories with Taryn, Linda, and David.

Tuesday, May 27

Joined David and Mark at Safe Banking Systems for a take-out lunch from Melville Deli. Said goodbye and went back to Casa Schiffer to pack up and head back to The City. Attended an informal screening of a short film our friend Kirchner is editing at the director's apartment. Also in attendance were our friend Andrea and Adam, Temma, and Kirchner. After watching the short, we gave the director the feedback he was seeking, then went out for Indian food in the East Village. Kirchner joined My Girl and I as we met Missy, Lisa, J-Rat, Cassandra, and Amiel for drinks at Bar Six. Spent the night in our guest room at 5A.

Wednesday, May 28

Ate crepes for brunch at Le Bonne Soupe on 55th and 5th. Met Jason and took the subway uptown to Spanish Harlem. Walked a few blocks to 105th and 5th, the entrance to the magnificent Conservatory Garden. Although, on the overcast day with nothing much in bloom, it wasn't quite as magnificent as I remembered. Despite the thunder and ominous clouds, we wandered through Central Park, coming across a waterfall and a cave before reaching the top of the park at 110th street. Raced the rain to 104th and Broadway to see The Building -- a three-story structure my grandfather bought way back when during his days in the supermarket business, which now houses a Rite Aid and Spanish gallery. Took the subway back downtown to J-Yoz's apartment and chilled until Jo-Yoz got home. Then the four of us met Dave and Meg for dinner at Isabella's. After a stop off at a decadent bakery called Crumbs, Jo-Yoz said goodnight and goodbye while the rest of us went back to Dave and Meg's to eat our cupcakes. Said goodbye to my lifelong friends and strolled crosstown to 5A to spend our last night in town.

Thursday, May 29

Up at 7am. Got the car from the parking garage as My Girl ran across the street to grab some coffee and crumb cake from Starbucks. Left NYC at around 8pm and started the drive back down to Durham. Stopped off in Washington D.C. around noon for a tour of the NPR studios, arranged and led by My Girl's editor at "All Things Considered." On his recommendation, we went for lunch at Eat First, a Chinese restaurant he claimed was the best in the city. Unimpressed but satiated, we continued our drive along the Eastern seaboard and arrived in Durham at 7:15pm. My Girl's Mother cooked up a lasagna for dinner and My Girl and I passed out from exhaustion shortly after. Breakfast in New York, Lunch in D.C., Dinner in Durham.

Friday, May 30

Lunch at Chick-Fil-A, the greatest fast food chicken place of all-time. Coffee at Mad Hatter's. Browsed the Regulator bookstore. Took Chloe, the family's highly intelligent and moody rough-cut Jack Russell terrier, for a walk on along the Hillandale Golf Course. For dinner, home-cooked lasagna leftovers with My Girl's Mom, My Girl's Sister, and My Girl's Brother-In-Law.

Saturday, May 31

Regulator bookstore for coffee. Hit the drive-thru at Biscuitville for breakfast with Chloe along for the ride. Ran 3 miles on the cross-country trail on the Duke campus, while My Girl's Mom, My Girl's Sister, and Chloe walked. Went with My Girl's Mom to Best Buy to purchase Heather's birthday present Visited My Girl's good friends Perri and Carter and ate dinner with them and their adorable two year-old girl Phereby. During dinner, Phereby turned to me and asked "How come you're so funny?" I responded that I come from a Jewish family in which my mother gave me her gregarious, fun-loving personality and my father passed on his dry, sarcastic wit. I'm not sure Phereby fully understood my answer to her question, but I'm confident someday she will.

OL' PIKER'S STORY HOUR

EXT. PORCH OF A RUNDOWN CABIN - DAY

An aging Piker sits in his rocking chair, whittling a piece of wood into the shape of a remote control.

OL' PIKER

Back in the summer of 2002, My Girl and I weren't working all that much and had lots of free time. You can bet we enjoyed our time too. And how. We played a lot. We ate a lot. And we laughed a lot. And... We traveled all over this great land of ours. We traveled to weddings. We traveled to funerals. We took trips with friends. We attended family reunions. We did it all. But, wherever we went, we never missed a single installment of "American Idol."

Ol' Piker's head tilts back. He begins to snore immediately. After a moment, he snaps back awake.

OL' PIKER

Back then, things were much simpler. Wait, where was I...? That's right, I was telling the tale of "American Idol." I don't quite remember what I wanted to say about it in the first place, but I think it might've been something about how this little crappy throwaway summer show hosted by two clowns featuring a bunch of youngsters who couldn't sing worth a darn suddenly turned into this runaway smash hit. It all happened so fast, it made my head spin. That show put a spell on me. I kept watching it even though I swear to you I hated that program. I mean, it was god-awful. But I could not look away.

Using all his strength, Ol' Piker manages to stand up out of the rocking chair. As soon as he does, the whole chair collapses behind him.

OL' PIKER

In fact, it wasn't until I ran across this magical article on one of those old-fashioned webzines that the whole "American Idol" conundrum made any sense to me.

Ol' Piker scratches his head. After a beat, he sniffs his fingers.

OL' PIKER

At least I think it did...

FELIZ CINCO DE MAYO!

Spreading a bit of good cheer on this fine day, I gaily wished a strange passerby a Feliz Cinco de Mayo. In doing so, it caused me to wonder... If Feliz Navidad is translated as Merry (or Happy) Christmas, how would one translate Los Feliz? That led me to Alta Vista's Babel Fish Translation tool, which quickly provided the answer. Los Feliz means "The Happy One."

This morning, I woke up in The Happy One, took a jog around The Happy One, then left The Happy One and returned home.

THE END



This is the end, beautiful friend
This is the end, my only friend, the end
Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
I'll never look into your eyes
Again

Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need
Of some stranger's hand
In a desperate land
Lost in a Roman wilderness of pain
And all the children are insane
All the children are insane
Waiting for the summer rain

There's danger on the edge of town
Ride the king's highway, baby
Weird seems inside the gold mine
Ride the highway west, baby
Ride the snake
Ride the snake, to the lake, the ancient lake, baby
The snake is long seven miles
Ride the snake
He is old and his skin is cold

The West is the best
The West is the best
Get here and we'll do the rest
The blue bus is calling us
The blue bus is calling us
Driver, where you taking us

The killer awoke before dawn
He put his boots on
He took a face from the ancient gallery
And he walked on down the hall
He went to the room where his sister lived
And then he paid a visit to his brother
And then he walked on down the hall
And he came to a door,and he looked inside
"Father?" - "Yes, son?" - "I want to kill you,
Mother, I want to..."

Come on, baby, take a chance with us
Come on, baby, take a chance with us
And meet me at the back of the blue bus
(Blue bus still now...
Come on, girl)

This is the end, beautiful friend
This is the end, my only friend, the end
It hurts to set you free
But you'll never follow me
The end of laughter and soft lies
The end of night we tried to die
This is the end

THE PUNISHER



Three days before his thirty-third birthday, Andre Agassi became the oldest men's tennis player ever to hold the number one ranking. Playing at the U.S. Men's Clay Court Championships, Agassi catapulted over Lleyton Hewitt to take the top spot on the men's tour when he easily defeated Austria's Jurgen Melzer in the semifinals. In breaking Jimmy Connors record, the Punisher regained the number one ranking for the first time since September 10, 2000 when he ceded the mountaintop to his arch nemesis Pete Sampras. But, of course, Andre wasn't satisfied by the accomplishment and one-upped himself by pulling out a thrilling comeback victory over Andy Roddick in the final on Sunday. Agassi defeated the young American upstart for the fourth time against no loses, and in doing so, he picked up his fourth title of the year, including the Australian Open, and ran his overall match record to a dominating 23-1.

33 is flat out old for tennis. What Agassi is doing by ripping up the tour at his age is nothing short of miraculous. I'm turning 32 in a few months and I can barely muster the agility to touch my toes. Wait a minute... I still have toes?!

WILL THE REAL CANCUN PLEASE STAND UP



Unable to reconcile the perverse pleasure I took in viewing "The Real Cancun" and the guilt I felt afterwards, I turned to Salon's resident reality TV expert to help me make sense of the madness. "Beach Blanket Bimbology" reassures us that's it's okay to buy a ticket to see this raunchfest, whether you're a fan of reality television or you're repulsed by it but "dutifully march into the theater in order to document the decline of Western civilization..." Unfortunately for New Line and my friends who produced it, nobody seemed to be buying tickets for any reason, as "The Real Cancun" tallied some rather unimpressive box office numbers this weekend.

SCRUBBING UP

Today is the first day of yet another phase of unemployment. My mission now is to complete a damn good sitcom spec script as soon as possible, pair it with my one existing damn good sitcom spec script to get an agent to take me on as a client, and land a long-awaited staff writing gig. The current vehicle for this meteoric rise... "Scrubs."



In searching for an appropriate show to write, I found the television landscape to be barren and bland. The state of comedy on television is woeful. There are, maybe, a few funny shows. I'm already sitting with a polished spec for "Everybody Loves Raymond", I wrote a "Friends" years ago when that show was still in its prime, "Curb Your Enthusiasm" is hilarious but I feel like the fun is in the improvisation not the writing, "The Office" is fantastic but not yet a known quantity in the industry, "Malcolm in the Middle" is a good one to write but I don't know the show very well, and I like "Will and Grace" but I don't have any desire to write one, unless of course they hired me to. So that leaves "Scrubs," a show I feel comes off as a winning combination of silly and sweet, which fits my voice perfectly. I've read several "Scrubs" scripts, I've watched a handful of episodes on tape, and I've scoured the episode guides to get a sense of the overall arc and fill in any gaps in my knowlege of the show. Now comes the hard part. Brainstorming to find a story I want to tell. Any of you doctors out there have any war stories you want to share?

GLUTEUS ERRONEUS

Although not one person reacted in any way shape or form, I must formally issue a retraction to a prior post. The red bathing-suited basketball booty featured Tuesday on this site does not in fact belong to Salon's Superhot TV Critic. By all accounts, her posterior is even more spectacular than that! I, for one, thought it was obvious who the derriere in the photo belonged to, but for those of you who failed to identify that unmistakable bottom, it's none other than Bathing Suit Britney. Now Britney is certainly not in need of any sort of makeover, but I was in desperate needed of a segueway, so without further adieu, I proudly direct you to an article on "Extreme Makeover" written by the woman with the greatest ass-et in television criticism. If that isn't titillating enough, maybe the lesbian kiss on "All My Children" is hot enough for ya.

STONED STUPID

What may be the world's worst pot smoker has been found in Carlsbad, New Mexico. Eighteen year-old Robin Loftin was appearing in magistrate court on Tuesday facing charges of driving with a suspended license and failure to renew his registration. As the judge entered the courtroom, Loftin removed his hat and a joint fell out and hit the floor. Needless to say, that pissed off the judge, who immediately cited the stoner for contempt of court and sent him to a detention center. Loftin, mental midget that he is, just served ten days in jail in March for a marijuana-related charge. Apparently, a cop witnessed the moron hiding his bong in a cabinet at a party. Is this guy an idiot or what?

REALITY TV: THE MOVIE



In true voyeuristic fashion, I indulged my curiosity and attended a special screening of "The Real Cancun" this evening. Out... of... control. Wild and fun and flawed, "Cancun" left my head swirling with images and is forcing me to confront my true feelings on the whole reality television craze, which has obviously now set its sights on the big screen. I'm still sorting it all out and will try to formulate an overall opinion overnight with the intention of shedding some light on the seemingly superficial yet inconspicuously complicated subject matter.

BOOMTOWN FRATS

That Superhot Salon TV Critic is at it yet again with two brand spanking new columns. In "The Real World" With Beer Bongs, she rips into the pack mentality of the frat boys on MTV's "Fraternity Life," but ultimately and surprisingly gives the Greeks the benefit of the doubt. In Reinventing the McDrama, she does yeoman's work in helping to contribute to the rapidly-growing buzz over "Boomtown" and lays heavy praise on writer/creator Graham Yost, all the while presenting an airtight case for NBC to renew the show for a second season.

Oh, and I think I may have found the only known picture on the net of that Superhot Salon TV Critic's ass.

YEAH!

Wow. Got a chance to see The Yeah Yeah Yeahs at the Henry Fonda Theater on Friday night. That's what I call a power trio. Guitarist Nick Zinner and drummer Brian Chase generate a tidal wave of sound and lead singer Karen O surfs the crest. From the moment she strutted out on stage -- picking straws out of her cleavage, putting them in her mouth, then spitting them out -- O owned the joint. She mesmerized the edgy youngish crowd with her writhing and prancing and bending over and a voice alernating between a lioness' roar and blues babe's bawl. Brash and trashy one minute, cute and playful the next, she made it so you couldn't take your eyes off her for one second. Already billed as the next Chrissie Hynde, for a few brief flashes, when she turned her back to the audience, or hopped around on one foot, or flirted with danger by swinging the mike around wildly, she opened a door into the past and reflected Jim Morrison. I echoed the sentiments of a new friend of mine who went to the show with us, when he said "Everyone there either wanted to be her or sleep with her and some wanted both." He stated out loud something I felt for a nanosecond but instantly buried deep down, "I never understood why people wanted to touch something a rock star just sweated on, but when she put that hat on her head then tossed it into the crowd, I understood. I wanted to touch the hat." I too wanted to touch the hat. Karen O made everyone want a piece of her and Friday night they were lucky to get it in such an intimate setting. The newly revamped and reopened Henry Fonda Theater, a Hollywood Blvd. remnant from Old Hollywood, offered concert-goers the opportunity to view the show in a variety of ways -- down and dirty on the floor in front of the stage, civilized and comfortable from the theater seats on the mezzanine level, or with a drink in one hand and a smoke in the other on the outdoor deck with the show projected onto a giant wall. Some great indie rock acts passing through there these days and after Friday night, the Henry Ford now ranks among my favorite venues in LA.

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs have a hit single on the British charts, a brand new album on Interscope Records set for release a week from tomorrow, and the swell of the Brooklyn buzz fueling their rise. The sky might not even be the limit. Yeah.

MARATHON MAN

Will Ferrell is running a marathon today. And it's not just any old marathon he's running, it's the Boston Marathon. If you've seen the funnyman on "Saturday Night Live" in the past, all too willing to showcase his spare tire and pudgy ass, it may be a bit of a stretch to imagine Ferrell in marathon running shape. But he's in it -- weighing a svelt 195 pounds on his now lanky 6-foot-3 body. Ferrell and his wife Viveca ran the New York City Marathon in 2001, finishing in just over five hours. Then the two went on to run the Stockholm Marathon, where Ferrell completed the race in just under four and a half hours. Then in November, Ferrell finished a half marathon in about one hour and forty-five minutes. This is no joke. The slapsticky comedian takes his running very seriously, employing a running coach and the latest technology to improve his time and study the craft of running. Today he's aiming to finish the legendary Boston run in under four hours.

I ran for the first time in a long while this weekend, trying to kickstart a health kick and whip my fat ass into some sort of shape. Last year, during my running heyday, I had two ten-mile runs. If I can find the discipline to take my running to another level, perhaps I'll follow in Ferrell's footsteps...

UPDATE: He did it! Ferrell broke four hours and outlasted Endurance Elvis.

NETFLIX NET LOSS

I'm no expert at reading into quarterly reports, but I always find it intriguing when a company announcing it's losing money is taken as a positive sign. Netlix, my preferred online DVD rental service, reported earnings today and the news was good. For the quarter, the company had a net loss of $4.5 million, or 20 cents a share. That compared to a net loss of $4.5 million in the first quarter last year, but a loss of $2.20 a share. What confuses me is the profit figure of $31,000. How can a company operate at a net loss and make a profit? All that doesn't sound so good on the surface, but the numbers show that the company is showing outstanding growth at a faster rate than expected. I'm a huge fan of the service, which allows me to rent 3 movies at a time from my online rental queue, and I can rent as many movies as I want for 20 bucks a month. The postage is paid and the turnaround is a lightning fast three days. I'm catching up on all kinds of old movies -- foreign films, musicals, classics, new releases -- and I always have something on hand that I want to watch. The best part is that since I've been using Netflix I haven't set foot in a Blockbuster Video store. Take that, you evil corporate bastards!

PEOPLE REALLY ARE WATCHING ELLIE



This may not be common knowledge, but through six seasons of sitcom television I have yet to work on a show that made it to its second season. Technically, this is the second season of "Watching Ellie", but they've only produced a total of 19 episodes, so it's as if they've only done one real season. After assisting the writing staffs of "Boston Common", "Alright Already", "Maggie Winters", "Sugar Hill", "Battery Park", and "The Ellen Show", I may actually have a shot of working on a returning show. Last night was the season premiere of "Watching Ellie" and America was indeed watching. The show finished second in its time slot to one of my favorites, "24", and retained 88% of its lead-in audience, which was a Museum of Television and Radio special honoring the funniest women in comedy. Next week, the show will stay in its regular time slot at 9:30pm on Tuesday, but it will be preceeded by "Frasier", which is slumping badly this season and dying a slow death. Hopefully, people will continue to watch "Ellie" and I won't have to struggle with my employment search next season. Maybe I'll actually be given a shot as a baby writer...

WET HOT BUTTON AMERICAN SUMMER

Over at The Hot Button, internet film columnist extraodinaire David Poland has put together his Big Summer Movie Preview before escaping for a spring fling in Bermuda. He's pretty confident that this is going to be a blockbuster summer in terms of quality and box office. I'm hoping he's right.

ROY'S NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE

As Brenda so eloquently stated on "Six Feet Under" last night, "Timing is everything in life." Three years ago, Roy Williams was offered the job as head basketball coach at North Carolina, his alma mater, replacing the retiring Bill Guthridge. Guthridge had succeeded the legendary Dean Smith, Williams' mentor, just a couple of years earlier. Back then, the timing wasn't right for Roy Williams, as he declined the offer and stayed at Kansas. In the three-year span since, Williams led Kansas to two Final Fours, this year and last, but failed to win his elusive first national championship both times. The timing must be right now, because Roy Williams broke the news to his Jayhawk players today that he's leaving Kansas to seize a second golden opportunity to click his heels and return home as the coach of the North Carolina Tarheels.

And somewhere, Matt Doherty is feeling like an even bigger asshole than he already was...

MILLER GENUINE DAFT

Salon's outstanding television correspondent gets a little fired up about Dennis Miller's HBO special "The Raw Feed", which aired live this Saturday night. In her article entitled "Dennis the Menace", the astute critic lambasts Miller's latest stand-up performance and dissects his reference-laden brand of humor. If you came here looking for beer and thought the title was a typo, your Miller Time awaits here...