No, I REALLY suck at blogging

But I like to write. My friend Daniella inspired me last night to write some more. I've been stuck in this notion that because I act, draw and write songs (or used to), that my writing must be fictional (i.e. a screenplay or play). My best writing though (besides said songs) has been my opinion-based verbal rants that have found themselves on social networking site profiles, in spotty reviews I've done, and, well, here. What's wrong with that? Nothing. It's just the discipline to keep doing it (and for free to boot), that I lack. Baby steps I suppose. I also have been having some of the most wack dreams ever of late and would like to share some of them here... when I remember them past the few post-wake up moments where I've risen and said "whoa, that was wack".

Before leaving you with a few doodles I've doodled and/or photos I've snapped, this has been a very weird week for me. Hell, the last 2 months (let alone, year, lifetime) have been weird... let's just focus on this Holiday season, I don't have the time right now to delve into the rest. After my first Thanksgiving spent at a non-relative's place, I thought Christmas would be more of the same from years past (i.e spent with family). My sis and I had a tiff a few months back over money and perhaps that led me to not get a plane ticket early to visit her (as has been my Christmas case the past few years). The real reason though was simply lack of funds: not getting paid for work done moons ago. I ended up spending Christmas here in NYC. Yes, Christmas eve and Christmas day eve were spent with family (before they hightailed it outa town), but the days after were when I felt alone. I always took those days for granted I guess, they were simply the 26th and 27th of December... not so anymore. Those days are as much Christmas as the 24th and 25th. What did I do the eve of the 26th? I went to see the depressing flick "A Single Man" at 1145pm. For a few minutes there I thought this choice was a bad omen as well as I was the ONLY person in the audience (and a single man no less), until a couple couples walked in after the film started... phew!

The next day was ok, as was the day after-thanks mostly to some wonderful drink dates with new friends... Ok, so has not really been a great story, or even perhaps writing worthy of an active mind, but rehashing the last few months is not really what I'm feeling right now. I simply want to write something here, today, anything, to get the juices flowing, comprendo? I believe I've now accomplished that, and will henceforth leave you with a few doodles (that I've already posted on Facebook... but then again, if you're not my friend there, you wouldn't have seen 'em) and simply say that I do believe that 2010 will be a dandy of a year, and as Paul Krugman noted in his recent NY Times Op ed article, "Let’s bid a NOT at all fond farewell to the Big Zero", meaning the last decade. 2009, and, well, pretty much the entire 2000's up til now have been sketchy to say the least. "Snot" was born during this decade because times got so tough, and that was well before THE recession. Glad they're gonna be over. Boy am I. 2010 is gonna see me get closer to where I wanna be, both in my professional and personal life. I can tell, esp. because of the weird, lonely, poor, contemplative lead-up I've experienced of late, and some of the resolutions I've already made concerning what I need to do in 2010 and beyond... Now, if I can just get my ass outa this chair.

Rock n' roll.

I suck at blogging

so I'm just gonna put pictures on here that I take, maybe one a day, and write as little as possible... Ok, if, when I want to write more, I will, but I won't dwell on having to write something BIG or IMPORTANT. I thought that Twitter would be the answer to my blogging again, but that site is absolutely useless. Yes, you heard it here, Twitter is FUCKING USELESS BULLSHIT. Maybe Demi Moore has time to tweat about her new bedsheets or some crap, but I'm not gonna scroll all the way down to hell just so's I can follow some lame link.

I've decided to start blogging again this time because I fear that by only posting pix on my beloved Facebook, I'm essentially giving up those pix. Why? Because some people see Facebook as Big Brother, and I cannot necessarily refute such a claim. I dig the give and take on there, but the pro networking possibilities just aint happenin' there (and don't give me that Linked-in horseshit, that site is for frickin' wieners, a complete bore. As for FB, it's not for business, and it's not for fuck buddies, but it has a purpose, as I talk to friends I never talk to otherwise. Is that good? I don't know, but it aint bad. Seriously, I mean, what the hell has mystery ever done for me? Let me become famous and then I'll keep people guessin'. Right now though, I gots to simply get out there. I do know though that Facebook might not be the best place for my anti-establishment rants, however, so, hence, Snot has risen from the dead once again.

Yay.

That said, I'm tired tonight (not that I'm sleeping too little, I'm actually sleeping far too much these days but...) and so I'm just gonna leave this entry with a pic I took today...

What are ya gonna do?

So I don't blog much, not that anyone even reads this page or gives a hoot, but I don't. I do care though, but what are ya gonna do? That's gonna be my answer to everything now. Some people hate that phrase, and answer it with "here's what I'm gonna do, I'm gonna...", but I like the toss off quality of it, and it fits Snot well. So, I sound like a bitter guy here? What are ya gonna do? No, this isn't how I think all the time, I'm just having fun with that side of me, but what are ya gonna do? I'm gonna de-friend you because you don't like the new Star Trek film and everyone liked the new Star Trek film... what are ya gonna do? True, you can't answer everything with that catch-phrase, but what if you could, or did? You didn't get the acting job. What are ya gonna do? You're too old for me. What are ya gonna do? I can't pay the IRS on time. What are ya gonna do? My contacts lens prescription is too weak now but getting new ones cost a bundle. What are ya gonna do? Your teeth are falling out. What are ya gonna do? You can't get it up? What are ya gonna do? Hey, that's my parking space! What are ya gonna do? You're not on the guest list. What are ya gonna do?

Anyway, you get the idea... Language, words, speech, the internet, the blogoshere-all are meant to provoke, inspire or educate people right? I'd love a reaction, but I'm just trying to provoke, inspire and educate myself, keep the wheels movin' that have been slowed by age, dejection and alcohol. The facts are (for me at least, and apparently many others out there) that times are bloody tough right now. I get lost in all that shuffle and scuffle and this here should be my journal. I get turned off in fact when someone chooses to log on but can't handle the truth or criticism or negativity (or what have you). Living in plastic bubbles has hurt America. I love Face Book, but if I spouted anything other then a charming lil' quip on there I'd be defriended up the ass in no time. Hell, I like a positive person as much as the next but this aint about positivity or negativity, it's about speaking your mind. The whole "whats' on your mind" thing on Face Book annoys me because you never read someone say "life blows. I can't pay rent or get work, fuck all" or anything like that. I don't know about you, but when I'm feeling that way, I leave my status update blank, or disguise how I'm feeling with a lil' sugarcoated cleverness... I'm not sure that's a good thing, y'know?

Ok, enough about that. How about a Liver Sports Report. No, I'm not gettin' into Basketball (cuz it's the 15th month of it and we're still not in the Finals), or Hockey (cuz the Winter was long enough, fuck ice), but baseball. There's too much to discuss on the matter though for now, I'm just gonna touch on one of my fave (and yours too) players of all time, David "Big Papi" Ortiz, who's become No Popi, the Big Easy Out what have you. Despite the fact that he's already earned enough cag to take care of the entire frickin' Dominican for the next hundred years, his downfall is sad to behold. Manny Ramirez on the other hand? Jerk off. A-Roid? Nuff said. The Rocket? Don't even go there. Papi though... the longer he can't catch up with an 89 m/p/h fastball the more it looks like he's done, or has done (steroids). We'll never know the full truth of the steroid era, esp. as long as athletes keep denyin' and lyin'. That's a shame, and they're just the sports equivalent to the corruption we've seen on Wall Street and in Government the past few years. I say, if you own (shit, houses, teams, whatever), own up. None of this is gonna make me like Big Papi any less, but when an apparent good guy fails, you'd hope that he at least would own up. That he hasn't actually leads me to believe he didn't shoot up, but I may very well be wrong about that. Jim Rice declined at age 34 though, and big dudes like Ortiz often have declined quicker (George Scott, Boog Powell, Greg Luzinsky, Cecil Fielder, Mo Vaughn). I hope he revives his career though because of who he is: the most likeable, most generous, most clutch motherfucker of this era. He has one day left before rejoining the Sox lineup after that career low day (0 for 7 stranding 12 runners) which landed him short-term on the bench to clear his big head. When I said R.I.P. Big Papi I meant enjoy your time off buddy, relax bro, but hopefully not sayonara you're kaput my PED usin' friend...

With that, I bid you all (which is myself, unless, surprise, someone else is reading this) a fond goodnight. Weird weekend I had, highs (encouragement from a friend I hadn't seen in ages, seeing McCoy Tyner and Ravi Coltrane perform brilliantly at Jazz at Lincoln Ctr. and some tasty Chimays) and lows (basically being reprimanded by (a) an old wealthy guy for not having a fall back plan, as well as accidentally by (b) a cute 21 yr old. chick for not owning a condo already, drinking too much o' those high alc. content brewskies and not getting into some dumbass SNL party), but what are ya gonna do? I'm actually heading into another dreaded Monday with a more positive outlook than recent weekend to week turnovers though for some reason, and cuz... well... what are ya gonna do?

Woody Allen and Robert Deniro have become the same person

This result does not bode well for film society. Do I really have to see another Woody film with bitter Old Man Allen (this time in the guise of Larry David, who obviously didn't, couldn't know better) having a fling with an under age girl? Well, yes, cause I did. I saw the premiere of "Whatever Works", which doesn't, by the way. Look, I dig young women, but it's kinda creepy seeing someone Larry David (or Allen)'s age with a nubile youngin'. Nuff said on that. As for the movie? The wealthy and industry types at the Ziegfeld ate it up, yucking it down like good lil' Woody Allen disciples, yet it's merely another claustrophobic upper middle class character exposé of his that's, well, impossible for most people to relate to. Allen, like Dylan (or Deniro too for that matter), can lay a turd and people will buy it it seems.

"Whatever Works" was born apparently of previous unused Allen scribblings, and you can tell, especially when he uses a character story line identical to one he used in Vicki Christina Barcelona (involving one character being discovered to be a great photographer and then achieving overnight success and a threesome-Patricia Clarkson in this film as opposed to Scarlet Johanson in Allen's previous, far better film). This is a a hodgepodge retread film if there's ever been one. Larry David, a non-actor, does his best when he's improvising his own jokes, otherwise, his is the worst Woody impersonation since Kenneth Branagh all-out sucked in Celebrity I thought. Hey, I dig David, am Enthusiastic about his Curb, but he shouldn't read scripted lines, not on film anyway-stay on the small screen.

The one, true, great scene in the film was one I'd never seen in an Allen film before. Yeah, we know he's forever gonna exploit the unrealistic bond between hot young chicks and out of touch old complainin' well-off dudes, but in this film there is this one scene between Ed Begley Jr. (who I liked for the first time) and another actor kvetching about losing their respective wives that unravels uncharacteristically for the Woodster. The other guy's wife's name was Norman you see, and, well, let's just say that Begley in turn has an awakening of sorts (Begley's ex in the film is played by Clarkson, who's wonderful by the way).

As for our festival don, Deniro (a strangley bitter rich man it seems, not so unlike Allen apparently) well, he entered the Roylton Hotel afterparty for this Tri-blech-a Film Fest premiere, walked right through and immediately (or so it seemed to me) exited out the back. I wondered why that place was picked for the event up to that moment. A clusterfuck inside, it was the perfect side street to side street entrance exit for any bored stars who just needed to show up. In closing, the Tribeca flim flam fest seems to have become a photo-op only event. It positively sucked two years ago, was revived somewhat last year, but this year so far it seems like Deniro's set to make it suck yet again, we'll see (I do like his policy though that no Sundance films can be included in the fest, that works for me).

I said I'd start postin' again, so I guess this is as good a time as any...

the question is: what do I post here that I don't post on Facebook? Snot has been revived really b/c of Twitter, not FB (f**k buddy, facecock, fessebook what have you). At first I was reluctant do tweat on Twitter. "Your Facebook Status on Crack" I'd heard it called. True, it's just a blurt site, a place to share a link or a shout-out to your peeps as they say, but I've warmed to it mainly b/c there's shite I can't and won't say on Facebook. After a few lame tweats, it became evident where I needed to go with Twitter etc. Good ol' snotster himself Rollo Manhattan needed to rise up from the grave and once again give 'em all a run for their money and a piece of his mind...!

Ok, so don't all applaud at once for Christsakes.

Yeah, so Mr. Manhattan was basically forgotten, I hear you. I think only spam was checking out this blog when I quit (both times), but I've got a voice galdarnit, albeit a scratchy-as-f**k Tom Waitsy whine, but a voice nonetheless, and the mission of Snot has never been clearer then it is today. We've elected Obama, but we gots a lotto work to do damn you bet, to undo the crap from the past 28 years that's put our country in the shithole it's in. Yeah, it's gonna take a lil' while to find my form again, as I'm a tad rusty at this and have been pummeled into submission more and more the past two years, but I'll find my fightin' form again, damn you bet!

I got the inclination to spew forth today of all days b/c (A) I experienced corruption firsthand the other night at a job (I'll just say two words, two words that should go in the dictionary for twit, or a-hole, or I'm-gonna-punch-that-f**kin'-director-next-time-I-see-him: Will Speck), (B) it's raining cat shits and dog giggles outside, and (C) b/c as I was makin' my dreary way home (by first stoppin' for some free eats at Whole Foods and then climbing aboard a 14C MTA bus from hell) I overheard a couple comments by people that weren't quite tweats or FB mind wandering status reports. 1st of all, on the queue at WF, I heard some dude in a line-to pay-to my left (yes, I do buy things to ease my guilt for sampling up the wazoo at the buffet) say that he gets "register anxiety" when his register # comes up. I think it's hilarious that there's an apparent term for this-hell, he should be so lucky to be on a line other then the f**kin' breadline in this sour economy!

The 2nd little thang I overhead on my way home (directly after hopping off said bus from hades and getting splashed head-to-toe by a speeding car) was by an elderly lady walking along the sidewalk with me. As I passed her, she said "damn you lookin' sharp"... that just about made my day. "I'm on my way!" I thought...

Yeah, right.

Ok, that's about it for now. True, not the very best snottering by me, but then again, I'm just getting my crab legs back. Catch you on the flipside.

(this post shoulda been brought to you by Jameson)