The Songs of Johnny Go

So by normal person standards, I wasted my time here in Los Angeles. Far more interested in rest, movie-watching, photo-uploading, and script-revising, I barely went out to the city at all. But today, with my marvelous hostess adaptor in tow, I decided that there was one place, above all others, that I had to visit.



( The Hefner comes home... and is still locked out. )

Word is that someone leaked a screenshot of Two-Face from, like, an advanced screener copy of THE DARK KNIGHT. Even if this is not true, or even if it's a fake, I must once again reaffirm my stance:

DO NOT SHOW IT TO ME.

IF I SEE THAT PICTURE, THEN THE HEARTY, RICH, TASTY STEW THAT IS MY JULY WILL HAVE BEEN SHAT IN.

Ten days. Ten endless days ahead.



In other news, a pal of mine from last year's CapFringe (an excellent solo performer and also a sexy dork on whom I might possibly be crushing a little) wrote to inform me that she just attended Diablo Cody's 30th birthday party at the Playboy Mansion.

Between my own mixed feelings of Ms. Cody and JUNO in general, coupled with the fact that I know this girl and that it's at the family home that I shall never, ever, ever see again*... this is beyond Hefnerian. There's not even a word for what this is yet.

Since I'm one tidbit away from doing my best impression of the dude from SCANNERS (like, say, while she was there she gave a lapdance to Wilford Brimley), I think the working term to describe this is... "ASPLODE!IAN."