Yes, I use iCal and have lists on my Blackberry, but for smaller tasks, there’s something I really enjoy about crossing things off with a Sharpie. I blame Mom.)

I’m really sorry about being so here-and-there about how hardcore [...]]]> (For lack of anything better, this is a picture of my iPod and to-do list.

Yes, I use iCal and have lists on my Blackberry, but for smaller tasks, there’s something I really enjoy about crossing things off with a Sharpie. I blame Mom.)

I’m really sorry about being so here-and-there about how hardcore I am about the Cavs, but I’m still not completely over that season LeBron didn’t try all the time.

He still has so many moments/spans when he just stands there, and it makes me vexy.

Regardless, they’ve managed a couple tough wins on the road, and the Joe Smith thing has me happy for some reason.

Anyway, Trey over at The Blowtorch had his Who Shot Mamba? DVD screening experience, so you can go read about that.

Becky: Jonas Bros 3D must have been sold out last night
Becky: You can see it in lebron’s face

Brian: Ha but Mo was like YO I GOTS THE BOOTLEG DVD
Brian: And that’s when LBJ had the dunk and was like HELL YEAH LETS DO THIS

Becky: But he kept checking the clock so he would not miss last showtime

Brian: Yeah and DWade wanted to see Doubt, so that’s why he was sad cause it was clear he lost the movie bet

She ditched me after this – perhaps she is a nun now?

If you haven’t gotten yours, I’m still waiting for the contents of my LA PO Box. I just know the day I get back to LA, it’s gonna get here. This bit of WSM?-type of curse/absurdity is all but assured.

I’ll be around here and Twitter today – writing heavily.

(Follow me on Twitter here.)
(Download the first 55 pages of my epic, pretentious, and stupid book, Prelude to a Super Airplane, here.)

I’m of two minds on the non-moves by Danny Ferry and the Cavaliers yesterday.

Better long-term, but when you have a chance for a title this year, I think you have to go for it. Then again, who wants to be [...]]]> (All the Watchmen clips are underwhelming me. I actively feel bad about that.)

I’m of two minds on the non-moves by Danny Ferry and the Cavaliers yesterday.

Better long-term, but when you have a chance for a title this year, I think you have to go for it. Then again, who wants to be the Miami Heat?

Then again again, we saw teams trade for both Larry Hughes and Jerome James yesterday, so anyone can be moved if you try enough trickery, right?

And hey – the Phoenix Suns. I think you guys are kinda having sadness right now. Run-n-gun doesn’t work to win it all, yet you’re going back to it…I guess to sell tickets?

The picture of a beaten up Rihanna has made its way online over at TMZ, although I read it first over at Defamer, who said this aboot it.

How did the site get their hands on such a sensitive, unauthorized picture? That’s exactly what the LAPD is attempting to find out by launching an internal investigation; their official statement on the matter is posted on…TMZ, natch.

Anyway, the picture is pretty bad, and a little too symmetrical for my tastes.

Speaking of the LAPD and related to nothing – back when I had to get a restraining order for my first stalker, I dealt with the unit that like deals with some of this stuff, and it was like a TV show called “LA Female Justice” in there.

What I’m saying is all the detectives were hot chicks with guns and badges on their belts – it was amazing, and part of the reason I’ve sought out subsequent stalkers.

It was all kinda funny though, because they were like, “What do you need our brand of LA female justice for?” and I was just like, “C’mon, just give me some LA female justice,” and they were like, “Okay, let me get a pen and I will start taking some information down, and then I’ll go over to the sauna with my hot detective friends and we’ll decide whether to give you the LA female justice you’re asking for.”

And hey – if you’re not into basketball, I apologize, but it’s likely BTAA will be leaning that way as we ramp up to the NBA Playoffs and then be inside the NBA Playoffs.

I’ve posted the first 20 chapters (roughly 55 pages of PTSA) on this site. Links to [...]]]> (The following is an excerpt from my book, Prelude to a Super Airplane. It can be purchased by clicking on any of the roughly 400 banners adorning this site, or by clicking here. It’s also available on Amazon.

I’ve posted the first 20 chapters (roughly 55 pages of PTSA) on this site. Links to each of those are at the end of this post, or you can download all of them as a pdf by clicking here.

The Actoring Hat is probably my favorite hat to wear in the entertainment industry.

There are lots of reasons for this, but most of them come down to more money, more girls, and more fun. Now, a singularly unique actor is difficult to cultivate, which is why people trying to do actoring should perfect the two techniques I use in my work.

The first of these techniques is to not blink at all after the director screams ‘action’.

The second technique is something I call the “slow head turn to camera, with an angry/confused/amazed-to-be-in-this-situation squint, dramatic and slow head turn”. This isn’t an easy maneuver to execute, but the good thing is you can practice this in your real life, even when you’re not doing your actoring. It looks that natural.

What you need to do is slowly turn your head toward the camera (or mirror, or friend), while putting an angry and confused and amazed-to-be-in-this-situation squint in your eyes. Make sure to do it slow.

Other than that, doing actoring is as simple as pretending to be a person you’re not in real life, and then saying words in front of a camera. Ironically, my favorite actoring performance I’ve ever done was executed in real life.

It took place at an airplane station, where I actored that I was the ghostwriter for the best selling author in the history of These United States of America. This was funny, because at the time, I’d never written a book before, and had to make everything up as I went along. (In actoring, we call this “doing improv”.)

The whole reason I did this was because while I love the airplane station, the last twenty minutes before you get on the airplane are awful. You’ve surely been there, inside this strange game you play with your fellow airplane riders. There’s lots of tension, and positioning, and et al, etc.

You try your best to not sit directly next to anyone, and if you do, you hope dearly that they’re not your airplane seatmate once you’ve boarded the airplane.

Since you didn’t talk to them out there, you don’t want to have to exchange that, “oh geez, it’s you…” look.

(To great effect, I’ve used my “slow head turn to (airplane seatmate) with an angry/confused/amazed-to-be-in-this-situation squint, dramatic and slow head turn” for this before.)

Anyway, back to my actoring story, which actually just took place last week. As I waited to board an airplane ride at LAZ, the main airplane station in Los Angeles, a young woman named Jennifer Cormier had sat down next to me.

Jennifer was good-looking, and athletic, and under the age of 25, with a cutesy pop/rock singing voice and dark brown hair – Jennifer Cormier was everything that scared and excited me in a woman. She was also way too talkative for the airplane station, which is why I dismissed her as my soul mate immediately.

When I say she was too talkative, I mean it. She talked to everyone, especially me, I assume because we were sitting right next to each other.

“I’m going here. What’s there to do there? Is there anything historical there to go see? I’m a fitness model of some note in the fitness modeling industry. I like cookies.”

Because her fitness modeling stories conflicted with her enjoyment of cookies, I decided that Jennifer Cormier was lying, and as such, concocted my own tale – the one about being a ghostwriter for the best selling author in the history of These United States of America.

We both enjoyed our web of lies, and got on the airplane, never to speak again.

After taking my place in seat A1, I felt a tap on my deceptively muscular shoulder.

Of course, it was Jennifer Cormier, and she was to sit next to me on the airplane ride. Jennifer Cormier was my airplane seatmate.

Yes, her name was Jennifer Cormier, and against all odds, she actually was a fitness model of some note within the fitness model industry. She showed me her fitness-modeling portfolio, a few articles from the fitness modeling online internet gossip blogs, and other evidence. After awhile, I came to terms with the cookie enjoying conflict that had bothered me so much before.

Because I didn’t want her to think I was a liar, I stuck with my story about being the ghostwriter for the best selling author in the history of These United States of America, and we spent the next four hours together.

By the time the airplane ride ended, we’d fallen deeply in love.

Brad Radby’s Foreward, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 31

First, to set this up – I’m a completely normal looking person. Those of you who have met me can vouch for this.

I’m just like, a person. I’m not nine feet tall, nor am I four feet tall. (Six foot [...]]]> I went for a run just now, and something happened I’m completely lost on.

First, to set this up – I’m a completely normal looking person. Those of you who have met me can vouch for this.

I’m just like, a person. I’m not nine feet tall, nor am I four feet tall. (Six foot three, to be precise.)

I don’t have a mohawk or face-piercings, or face tattoos, or like anything that could be considered outside the norm.

On said run, I was wearing the following: gray t-shirt, black running pants, New Balance shoes. Have iPod and keys in hand.

So I’m stopped at a stoplight, waiting for the walk signal. (You’ll actually get ticketed for jaywalking in LA.)

I’m not doing the “run in place” thing or anything weird – I’m just standing there.

I look over, and these two guys in a pick-up are looking at me. Like, staring – and the one guy turns to the other one, says something, and they both shake their heads.

And they keep looking, clearly irritated by me in some way. Now, this is one of those weird intersections where it’s not simply north-south, but all kinds of diagonals, so lights are long.

I’m right there, so I wave for them to put down their window, and I ask what the problem is.

To be clear, this was not confrontational; it wasn’t, “YOU GOT A PROBLEM, BUDDY?!”

I’m paraphrasing here, but it was basically, “Hey, I’m not trying to be weird or anything, but why are you looking at me like I’m a freak? I’m not trying to start anything – I’m seriously just curious.”

They just like laughed, and the one says, “Just go on your run, pal.”

I have no idea what this was about and never will – so strange. Were they anti-health and fitness? Did they hate New Balance? The color gray?

SO THEN I WENT HOME AND CUT MYSELF.

This would be the concept that, especially these days, you could be on a hidden camera show at any [...]]]> There are an endless number of blog posts throughout the internet about how weird it is in LA, but I’m going to touch on something I worry aboot that I don’t see mentioned all that much.

This would be the concept that, especially these days, you could be on a hidden camera show at any given moment.

I see a lot of things at my gym I would never see back in Ohio.

Among these are Magic Johnson, Mos Def, dudes with one or more star tattoos, Justin Timberlake, a movie theater, the guy who’s there every day tweaked out of his mind on meth*, and 85% of the people who have ever been on The Apprentice.

This afternoon, however, was a little guy that looked like a hair metal dude from the 80s, complete with no shirt, huge blond permed hair, tattoos, wirey androgynous body, torn up acid-washed jeans, and HUGE sunglasses – so huge that they had to have a hidden camera.

There’s no other explanation, because he also kept throwing up in the trash cans, making no attempt to hide it.

He would walk by people and go out of his way to stare at them, clearly going for the money shot for his awesome YouTube prank videos.

I refused to look at him the two times he tried it on me, so I won at everything I did today.

*I wonder if he writes on his blog about “that guy who’s there every day not even tweaked out of his mind on meth or anything – he’s just working out!”