Any man who packs a big bore Sharps carbine could come in mighty handy, if we're attacked by buffalo... or elephants.

I sat at the bar, alone, waiting for my friends to arrive when she sat down next to me and proceeded to ruin my night. I wasn't looking for anything from anyone at that point as me pals had yet to arrive but she was. She was looking hard for trouble or fucking or some wretchedly stupid and drunk combination of the two. Fuck me, can't a guy get a goddamn drink in peace?

It started off the same way it always does. I'm alone and happy and some woman comes along and sees a situation that she can ruin. In mid swig of the ol' PBR she sat down and bumped into me which resulted in the first lame thing she did: she made me spill my beer. I attempted to ignore the obvious bump-and-ramble but she persisted in her entreaties by talking to me.

"Hey, sorry about that. I already had a drink at my friends house."

I sighed, looked at her sideways, and said, "Fascinating."

What some would call an uncomfortable silence, but I would call heaven, ensued. Sadly enough it quickly came to a torturous end when she asked me if I'd been here before. What? Who the fuck says shit like that? First of all, it's 2010 and that question is from, at the latest, the 80s so knock it off! Second, I'm sitting in the corner with a PBR and an empty shot glass and I'm not dressed up. I clearly don't care and am not looking to impress anyone.

"I'm waiting for someone," said to no one in particular but with the obvious intent of actually meaning "Fuck off."

"My boyfriend decided to leave me today. I've been drinking since lunch. Everyone has been really nice."

Fuck me. Really? This is happening right now? Who the hell did I piss off today?

"Ah, yes. Well, that'll probably stop soon."

"What?"

"Nothing. Listen, um, I'm waiting for someone and they usually sit where you were sitting so...," I wave Al over and since he's a mensch he gets both of us another round: PBR with a shot of Cazadores and she's drinking an appletini because my life sucks. Thanks Al, now she thinks I ordered us drinks. Remind me to tip you with a swift kick to the nuts.

"Thanks. See, it's easy to be nice, right?"

I pass on answering or explaining anything and decide to retreat into my fantasy world where I'm a Viking and no one is bothering me. Again, there's a wonderful silence for a few moments that is eventually shattered.

"So what's your name?"

"Marlowe."

"Marlowe? Is that your first name?"

"Phillip is my first name."

"Phillip Marlowe? What a nice name."

"What? Really? Jeez, OK, listen, I need to go."

"I'll be here. I'll watch your drink."

I make my way through the throng of rockabilly, punker, and emo kids and make it to the bathroom. Silence. Pissing. Ah, all is right in the world except what? Oh yes, my drink is being guarded by a drunk with a deep desire for conversation and a long night.

"Ha! I kind of missed you," she says, a lisp already developing and a dangerous smile contorting her face.

I'm not happy now, in fact I'm seriously annoyed. All I wanted was a drink with my friends in my favorite bar but now... She started pulling out a vial of what I assumed was blow and waggled it at me, trying to look sexy. This needed to stop.

So I left. I listened to classical music on the way home. I walked into my house, petted my dog, and kissed my hot wife.

You thought this was going somewhere, didn't you?

Peace out, bitches!

This is another fine mess you've gotten me into!

Victorville is not for the faint of heart or those with any whiff of urbane sophistication. It is far too hot for how dull it is. If a place is going to be this hot it must be exotic, interesting, alive, in short, all things Victorville is most certainly not. I am here for two days pursuing the all mighty if slightly worthless dollar, par for the course.

We are shooting a promo for the American version of Top Gear. This is apparently a big deal although you wouldn't know it from the utter lack of organization thus far on display. Everything is being handled at the last minute and with an oddly distinct lack of professionalism as if those involved were trying to show off how little they know about the process of filmmaking. Ah, the Digital Age! Buy a computer and a Red or a 5D and you to can start parading around as if you were the reincarnation of Cecil B. DeMille, minus an iota of talent or common sense.

At least it will be over soon.

At some point I will get out of this fireplace of a room.

At last, I will be in Arizona hunting elk for an all too brief time.

Peace out, bitches!

The video arcade is down the street. Here we just sell small rectangular objects. They're called books. They require a little effort on your part, and make no bee-bee-bee-bee-beeps. On your way please.

I tried to write a post and for some reason it got deleted. I hate Blogger so much lately. I'm going to go read a book.

Excuse me, but are you Paul Sheldon?

Fucking Bourdain! Somehow he's made me want to go to freakin' Maine! There's a restaurant called Primo that looks phenomenal and a fucked up fish house owned by a lunatic that also looks amazing. Dammit! I ain't got time for this shit! Or money! I hate Bourdain!

Now where can I go find some fucking good seafood 'round here?

Peace out, bitches!

A man fights for what he believes in, Fernando!

I am back from London and my house needs help. I was initially annoyed by this but I've come to realize that being annoyed will not clean the floors or the refrigerator or the couch or the dishes. I will and I might as well make the best of the situation. Laundry? Trash and recycling? Clothes to go to Goodwill? Dog to wash? Turtle tank to clean? Bills, bills, bills? I am the one who will take care of all of these things and to be honest, I'm happy. Happy that I have a place to keep clean and people to clean up after. The alternative isn't very fun. It would, however, be nice if I could get the women of the house to jump on to the Positive Attitude Cleaning Train but that seems to be a long term project. As it is, it's just Ghost and The Darkness this week so we're trending towards an immaculate house here, people!

God speed you black bastards! Enjoy the 4th and contemplate this on the tree of woe: Are all the men and women of the Armed Forces truly fighting for your freedom if at the end of the day you're getting less from your government and one third, if not half, of the planet hates us? Perhaps they, and us, are getting played for suckers by the powers that be?

Peace out, bitches!

The game's afoot.

Welcome to London! I've already seen a ton of shirtless, lobster-red, drunk men and women out and about and I've eaten a bad burger. Yeah, some things never change. If I don't pass out during the production meeting we're having in an hour I'm going to go out and find either Lebanese or Indian food. That's what's good in London. Well, that and Harrod's cheese shop which, if at all possible, I'm going to tomorrow after an early morning run around the neighborhood.

Yes, I'm in London for a commercial shoot all week and all I really want to do is eat and sleep. We'll see how it all works out. Worst case scenario: I go out to Kahn's tomorrow after prep and get some exercise every night in the hotel gym. Kahnnnnnnnn! OK, now where in the hell is Kahn's again? Wish me luck.

Peace out, bitches!

Fuck you, that's my name.

I ran for thirty minutes earlier tonight and I fucking loved it. I'm training for deer season and I've started running, even bought gay-ass looking running shoes. Whaddaya know, apparently I enjoy running in circles at the USC track while zoning out and thinking about where to set up on Mark's property. So it goes. Thirty-eight and finally getting most things in order. Interesting.

I also surfed for two hours, walked the dog for an hour, and watched Jonah Hex (why does Megan Fox get roles?). I ate bacon and eggs for breakfast and then nothing until 7:30pm when I had an awesome hot dog wrapped in bacon made by an illegal street vendor abuelita from somewhere in South America. It was good. I ordered a shrimp burritto from El Chabelita but the bastards made it with chicken instead. Sonsabitches!

None of this is particularly interesting but I'm bored and venting and there it all is. I go to work for two weeks in a row starting Monday and all I want to do is knock that out and come home and try to kill a pig.

Peace out, bitches!