tony fader is my hero 3

"black people are cooler than white people"


as seen on Yahoo!

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I have a little predicament.

Thursday night, I can see a free sneak preview of The Scorpion King or I can see a free screening of Human Nature, the new movie from the writer of Being John Malkovich and innovative director Michel Gondry, who last brought us the White Stripes' stop-motion lego video.

Last year, I attended the first public screening of The Mummy Returns. Maybe this will be the first public screening of The Scorpion King.

Then again, Michel Gondry will be at the Human Nature screening in person.

But it's The Rock!

[sigh] Decisions…decisions…

Help!


Current UCLA students wishing to enter the Film and Television major may only apply during the first four weeks of spring quarter of the sophomore year. To be considered for the major an applicant must:
• have a cumulative UC GPA of 3.0 or better at the time of application (check)
ï complete at least 90 quarter units prior to entry (check)
• satisfy your general education requirements prior to entry (check)
• submit an application package of supporting materials consisting of:
1) a change of major petition and the questionnaire for applicants
2) a copy of your UCLA degree progress report and an unofficial copy of your most recent UCLA transcript
3) two letters of recommendation along with the completed "waiver of access rights to letters of recommendation" form for each letter
4) a portfolio consisting of:
a) a personal essay (2 pages maximum), which should include a summary of your background, creative interests, academic and professional goals
b) a critical essay (3 pages maximum), which should be a critical analysis of a film or major television program
c) a creative writing sample (5 pages maximum), which may be a short story, play, script, poetry, or any combination
I've been talking about going to film school since forever and now that the time has come, I really don't feel like applying to college all over again. For one, I hate writing personal essays. I always feel dirty glorifying myself in print. Plus, two recommendation letters? What the fuck? I'm not in high school anymore. Here at UCLA, class sizes of 300 don't particularly allow me to get to know my professors on a personal basis. Who am I gonna get to write recommendation letters for me at this point in my life? TAs? Sheeit.


Would you pay $100 to get bruised, battered and tortured under an ungodly desert sun?

I would.

This past weekend, I flew out from Los Angeles to the Phoenix area to cavort with a coupla high school juniors for about 28 hours before returning home.

Yes, I spent 28 hours in Mesa, Arizona with Jord from WankerCounty and his buddies.

My Mom: Are you coming home for spring break?
Jon: No. I'm going to Arizona.
My Mom: Whaaa? Why are you going to Arizona?
Jon: I'm gonna meet a guy I know out there.
My Mom: What guy?
Jon: Some guy I met on the internet.

Keep in mind that I suffer from extreme social anxiety disorder. I have enough trouble interacting with relatives, let alone someone whom I know primarily through pixels, zeros and ones. I felt kinda awkward at times in Arizona, especially around Jord's friends, who treated me as if they knew who I was, despite never having talked to me before.

As of last July, I had never talked to any of the Wankers before. Eight months later, I'm sleeping in Jord's hot sister's bed…sans the hot sister.

My first impression of Jord? Damn, this guy has more hair on his face than I have on my entire body. With a little grooming, he'd look like Dashboard Confessional.

So Jord picks me up at the airport and spends the entire car ride back to his house ripping on my obsession with wrestling.

Jord: What's up with you and wrestling?
Jord: You realize it's fake, right?
Jord: At least on Friends, there are characters I can identify with.
Jord: I have some Scorpion King posters left over from the Lake Havasu trip. You can have them.
Jord: Wrestlemania X8 comes out for Gamecube soon.

He must have reminded me at least ten times during my short stay about the Wrestlemania X8 release date. This from a guy who once told me on AIM that "I watch wrestling sometimes……for the women," like he needed to defend his sexuality to me.

Okay, Jord. You win. I GET OFF ON THIS SHIT.

Seriously though, Jord's much more intelligent than he makes himself out to be. He told me that I was "the only Asian person in Arizona." I thought he was exaggerating. Nope.

Jord's father is scary. I'm glad I don't look anything like Yasser Arafat.

at Jord's friend Joe's house…
Joe's dad: So where are you from?
Jon: California.
Joe's dad: Oh we got a Hollywood guy here!
Born and raised in NORTHERN California, thank you very much.

Jord autographed a Scorpion King poster for me. I framed it and it's now on display in my room.

The hot dry cultivated wasteland really did a number on my body. Yet, most everyone I met in Arizona migrated there from another state. Go figure.

Jord's about to drive me to the airport when Farmboy Mike messages him.

Mike: Hey.
Jord: Yo.
Mike: Yu there?
Jord: Yee.

I completely forgot that while Mike lives in Washington, his body remains stuck in Arizona. The clock was ticking, so Jord thought we should meet at the airport. The three of us converged at the architectural wonder that is Sky Harbor and together, we formed Voltron! I WISH. In reality (to steal from Mike), I bought them smoothies, we discussed the lighter side of riots and voluntarily running into vending machines face-first, I gave them money for parking and I was on my way home.

What can I say about Mike? From what I'd seen and heard about him on the internet, I thought he'd be this brooding yuppie intellectual, but he's just a goofball with really kempt hair.


I envy Mike's ears. Envy is my sin.

I'm-a holiday in Seattle this summer. His ears will be mine.

So now then.

I paid $100 to visit the desert for one day. Last summer, I paid $300 to visit the tri-state area for three days…during the heat wave. Am I crazy? Maybe. These two trips, however, were probably the most enjoyable trips that I've taken so far in my life.

Hooray for reckless abandon.

Fuck itineraries. Fuck tourist attractions. I wanna do whatever. I impulsively decided to visit Arizona two weeks before spring break. If I planned ahead on anything, I couldn't honestly say that I spent Easter Sunday of 2002 in an open field in Jimmy Eat World's hometown being hit in the head with a stepping stool by a Jew while the 90-degree sun penetrated my short hair to char my scalp. Whoo!

Yeah. I had a lot of fun.

And it was all captured on tape.

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