Pamela Ribon is an author, screenwriter, actor, and Wonder Killer. This is her diary. Sort of.

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Daniel J. Blau writes musicals, recaps for TWoP, and travels back and forth between New York and LA because he's just that cosmopolitan.

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Book Drives:
2005 Tsunami Book Drive
Alvarado
San Diego | (Donor List)
Oakland Public Library

Monday, September 08, 2003

HA-ha!

AK
Pam? It's A.K.

PAMIE
Hi, A.K.

AK
I'm about three-quarters of the way through with your book.

PAMIE
Oh, thank you!

AK
Yeah, and I'm really liking it.

PAMIE
Thanks. That's very nice of you.

AK
But I had to call you, because...

PAMIE
You just got to the part about Simpsons fans?

AK
How'd you know that?

PAMIE
Let's just say you're not the first person to call me up after they finish that paragraph.

AK
Pam. Listen to me. I'm like, the coolest person you know.

PAMIE
Uh-huh.

AK
Granted, that's not saying much, considering you know people like stee and Frank.

PAMIE
Right.

AK
But trust me when I say I'm cooler than most people. And I do that. I quote The Simpsons all the time.

PAMIE
Oh, I know.

AK
I'm not a Trekkie.

PAMIE
Um, okay.

AK
I'm cool!

PAMIE
Note taken.

AK
Are you laughing at me?

PAMIE
Not at all. But feel good that you're not the first person to call me complaining about that paragraph. But also, many have told me how much they agree with me.

AK
That's because you don't have enough cool friends.

PAMIE
Bye, A.K.

AK
I hope your book ends with a retraction.

And stee updated.

Dan: People ask me all the time who the funny guy from TWoP on those VH-1 shows is, and then they do the Mrs. Garrett hands and squeal and squee all over the place. You're famous.

# posted by pamie : 5:38 PM

a story about texas!

It's a story about me for a while, but then, suddenly, it's a story about Pamie. I swear it.

Saturday night. The Cyclones game at godforsaken Coney Island. Me, talking to my friend Paul's girlfriend -- my new favorite person on the planet -- over our fourth plastic bottle of Bud and a meal made arguably entirely of meat, and arguably not of meat at all. Her name is Amy, but her nickname for the sake of this mini-dialogue is far more appropriate.

Paul's Excellent Girlfriend: Paul tells me you lived in LA.

Djb: Arguably, yes.

Paul's Excellent Girlfriend: Wasn't it weird living there when you'd lived in New York all your life?

Djb: Not so much. The secret is, I can pretend I grew up in NYC all I want by telling people I'm from "The New York City area," but really I'm totally from the burbs.

PEG: And that's why the sprawl didn't bother you.

Djb: And that's why the sprawl didn't bother me. When you're in traffic in LA, even when you're not moving there's always the possibility that another highway will manifest destiny itself right in front of you and you'll be able to move again. When you're in traffic in New York City, it's because the roads have literally just run out of room to accommodate all of the cars on them. You have to wait for an old Impala to rust into oblivion before there's room for your car to move one car forward.

PEG: I know sprawl too, having grown up in...

Djb (completely ignoring her): Once I was at work and had a cold and I was on the phone with my mom -- who has never been to LA -- and I told her I was going to get some cold medicine on my way home. She asked me if there was a place I thought I could stop between my office in Beverly Hills and my apartment in Venice and I said, "I'll probably just stop at the one strip mall called 'All Of Southern California.'"

PEG: Sounds like where I'm from, but hotter.

Djb: You're not from New Jersey?

PEG: Should I be insulted by that question?

Djb: That depends how big of a Christie Todd Whitman fan you are.

PEG: I'm from Texas.

Djb: Really? Where in Texas?

PEG: You've never heard of it. It's reeeeally small.

Djb: I have a surprising amount of experience with small towns in Texas. Try me.

PEG: It's called Poth. It's near San Antonio.

Djb: Wow. "Poth."

PEG: Poth.

Djb: You grew up there?

PEG: I did. But I moved for high school. About three hours away. Near Houston. Kind of near Houston.

Djb: My friend spent quite some time in a place "kind of near Houston." A town which...I don't know what actually happens there. Motels, for one thing. And definitely a bookstore.

PEG: That does make it a novelty in Texas.

Djb: Katy.

PEG: Shut up.

Djb: I think you've already discovered that I cannot.

PEG: I lived in Katy!

Djb: Are you Renée Zellweger?

PEG: I graduated from Katy High School! In 1998! Did she? Did your friend?

Djb: I, um...

Paul: Can you believe that for once we've gone to see a team that's actually winning something?

Djb and PEG: I'm sorry, is there a game of some kind going on?

Then the big-ass refrigerator from Requiem for a Dream came busting out of Ellen Burstyn's nearby dilapidated apartment complex, and we were forced to take cover by leaving that hellish backwater forever. I hate Coney Island.

Then we kicked it hella karaoke-style at the Twin-Peaks-meets-Grand-Hotel-meets-Rocky-Horror creepy-ass bar that Mapquest lists as being located 0.00 miles from my apartment. I love Brooklyn. Except for the Coney Island part. It’s the Poth of Brooklyn, I’ll tell you that much.

# posted by Daniel : 2:54 PM

Wake Us Up Inside.

It took many hours on our part (including almost four hours for Tara to edit and post it), so here's hoping it's worth it. The 2003 MTV Video Music Awards recap.

# posted by pamie : 2:32 PM

grr.

So now this site's messed up if you're using Netscape. If I fix it, it's messed up for the IE users. CSS, why do you make me cry?

# posted by pamie : 12:24 PM

With a Little Help From My Friends

New journal entry. How we rocked out on a Saturday night for two dollars' worth of parking.

How do I afford my rock and roll lifestyle? It's set in 1986.

# posted by pamie : 12:04 PM

Teller? I don't even know her!

Pamela, that is insane. Not 12 hours ago I was telling that very story and recounted the fact that my celebrity stalker was Penn Jillette. Remember when we saw him? Yes, yes, of course you do, because of how you mentioned it before I did. But after I saw him in LA that time, I saw him not seventy-two hours later, in New York, sitting outside at a Starbucks, in Cooper Square, drinking a fatty latte, by himself, BEGGING to be noticed. It was all I could do not to walk up to him, introduce myself to him, introduce himself to me as my celebrity stalker, and suggest a pilot pitch entitled Coast to Coast with Penn Jillette, a show about a washed-up niche star and his last misguided fan.

Then a passing Comedy Central exec heard the noise inside my brain, and two years later, I'm With Busey was born.

# posted by Daniel : 6:29 AM

"There's No Knitting at the Knitting Factory"

Just got back from my friend Brently's show "Crappy," which will be every Sunday night at the Knitting Factory at 10pm (I'm in this one). See the guy my friend Tyson calls "Your Genius Friend Who's Fucking Hilarious."

Dan: I forgot our last celeb sighting together: Penn Jillette. I remembered because I saw him again tonight, at a comedy show with Mark Maron and Chainsaw from Summer School. I love when the three celeb sightings are like describing a dream.

And I know I'm not the only one who thinks it's cool that I get email from Edie McClurg. You can too now, because Edie just got herself a website.

[edited to fix Penn Jillette's name because Dan is always right.]

# posted by pamie : 12:35 AM

archives

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