Aaah, the kitchen sink.
You know, there used to be a pizza they used to call the “kitchen sink” and they’d throw absolutely everything on that pizza from beef to olives to pocket lint and when all was said and done, well, you’d feel pretty damn sick.
Almost as sick as I thought I felt last night when I picked up an Italian Chicken Chopped Salad from a place here in Los Angeles called Il Trezzamino. Normally, great food — this salad had something deathly wrong with it. For when I would take a bite I would not only taste the normal flavor but something so noxious I had to spit it out onto the plate. I immediately called the restaurant who had this wonderfully consoling conversation with me:
Me: Do you think there’s any way some kind of chemical could have gotten into the salad dressing before they tossed it?
Them: Some kind of chemical?
Me: Yeah, you know. Rat poison or something?
Them: Well…anything can happen.
Anything can happen!? This is the consoling words of advice I receive from a restaurant who has just served up some kind of noxious tasting salad? In the meantime, all I’m thinking about is that scene from 9 to 5 in which Jane Fonda accidentally slips rat poison into Dabney Coleman’s coffee instead of creamer.
Nonetheless, I am still alive this morning, so it must not have been rat poison — although it might as well have been since I was up all night wondering about the rat poison in my body and not sleeping the process which has had some effect on the crispness of my brain as I try to prepare for my phone interview today with Michael Bay.
Yes, Michael Bay. Not the guy pretending to be Michael Bay on that blog, but the real director of this summer’s upcoming The Island. Doing a piece on him and the movie for the July issue of Wired Magazine — much like the one I did in this month’s on The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. I’ve been playing phone tag with the Bay-ster all week, but finally it’s on the books and I’m moving forward to getting that taken care of today.
But once today is over, there’s more in the pipeline. Some very exciting things that I should be able to announce in the near future. First of all, it appears as if the script I sold last year is close to having a director attached. Who it is, I’ll refrain from saying — but this person is well known for directing two of the biggest movies in the last couple of years. So, keep your fingers crossed on that one, people.
In addition, it looks as if we’re also close to attaching a comedic host to the Consumer Joe TV show project. As we still continue to meet with networks about finding a home for the project, involving this particular comedian could be an extra incentive for all involved.
Which brings me to people who feel like they need to be involved in everything. You know who you are. All I have to say is stop trying to be so involved and be more concerned with your own involvement. Ambiguous, yes. But serious advice nonetheless.
This past week I got an e-mail from a WFME reader who thought it would be wonderful to hold a contest in which readers of WFME and my book could send in a digital picture of the book winging its way around the world. I.e., just like in Amelie, where a garden gnome was stolen, then used to take pictures all around the world (which were sent back, like a ransom note, to the owner of the garden gnome) — that I should challenge WFME readers to a similar contest.
And you know what, I came up with a pretty unique idea. (Acutally, it’s not unique at all, I just copied it from this person’s idea.)
Official Contest Rules
Starting now and until midnight on May 15th, 2005 — I will be accepting digital photos of the book Consumer Joe at significant places around the country/world. The coolest photo, as judged by the WFME quadruplets (more on them later), will be featured on the site, rewarded with an Amazon.com gift certificate in the amount of $40 and a signed first-edition copy of the book Consumer Joe (we’re in the third printing, people so this is huuuuuge).
Photos will be judged for clarity, creativity, significance of the location and/or originality. Pictures need not include your smiling face unless you’re an attention whore and really, desperately, want people to gaze at your pearly whites in the darkness of their smelly computer rooms and cubicles.
That is all for now! Happy Saturday.