Guys, I think I have solved a problem. A lot of the time I am running from thing to thing to thing, and when you're running from thing to thing to thing, there just isn't a reliable internet connection. Sure I have a smartphone, because I am not some loser Luddite caveperson. But while smartphones are excellent for reading email and allowing the government to read your thoughts, they area not actually great for writing email and writing you thoughts to the government. Common thread: it sucks to type on a tiny device! Unless you are the Borrowers and you are already tiny, and then a smartphone isn't a phone at all; rather it is an extremely fun dance floor for your entire family.

But recently I figured out how to use my phone as a portable wireless router (read: I am not a loser Luddite caveman!). This means I can bring a laptop and type, type, type away - then post to the internet! I can even do it from the comfort of my car as I am parked outside of a tutoring client's house. Boy, they have a nice house. I wonder what they do for a living? Probably not tutor.

Anyway, the benefit is that I no longer have an excuse not to bring you excellent, amazing content such as the whole entry up until this point (don't read the rest, it's all downhill from here!). Also, this:

The 23 most Hilariously Bad Knockoff Brands

_Happy Friday, you guys. It was a pretty busy day for me. I had a Story Pirates gig and  TWO auditions - including a straight-to-callbacks session for a commercial. Skipping past first call and going straight to callbacks feels pretty awesome, but that wasn't even the highlight of my day. The highlight MIGHT have been around 9:30 am, when I was driving down Olympic Boulevard and an older gentleman in a beat-up pick-up truck started hollering at me.  It was one of those things where you hear noise and assume it's not directed at you, then you realize the screaming is an attempt to get your attention and you try to ignore it in case the person is angry or crazy? It turns out he wasn't angry or crazy, he just wanted to know if I had seen the commercial "with the woman who goes camping."

All of this stuff made for an awesome, fun-filled day. But the top moment has to go to the moment I laid eyes on this otter video. Look at these guys following their little otter dreams. LOOOOOOK AT IIIITTTTTT.

See you tomorrow!

Hey dorkfaces. So you may or may not be aware that evolution is the bomb. Evolution by natural selection is an elegant and simple explanation for the vast variety of life that we see on our planet. Now normally this is the part where I'd link to a Wikipedia page where you can read all about evolution, but they're dark for the SOPA protest. SOPA protest, eh? Kind of makes me picture Mario and Luigi getting upset about taking a sudsy bath, but Congress can do what it likes.  So go ahead and read up on evolution and evolution by natural selection (Hint! They are not one and the same!), perhaps at your local library. Try the West Hollywood library, it is niiiiiiiiiiice!

I'm always looking for an evolutionary basis for modern human behavior. It is a fun game for me because no one ever wants to play with me and so I always win. But the other day, as I was crying into a my pillow which was a sweatshirt I found in the dumpster, I was thinking about depression. Just what exactly is the evolutionary purpose of depression? HMMMMMMMMMM, DARWIN? I guess... sadness makes us taste bad to lions? Just imagine, roughly 50,000 years ago or whatever, a sabre-toothed cat was stalking one of our ancestors out on the Savannah (and I'm NOT talkin' Savannah, Georgia! Wheeeedle boyyyy!). Our ancestor, we'll call him Og, had three options to choose from.

ONE: Get scared, run away.
TWO: Get angry, fight lion.
THREE: Do nothing, become lion food.

Or did he? Because maybe, just maybe, depression is as off-putting to predators as it is to friends and potential sex partners! Og was all "Oh hey lion, what's up. Just standing here in the Savannah where nobody loves me. I woke up today... wished I hadn't. It's like you wake up, go out on the mammoth hunt, sit around the fire that Derg invented, go to bed, then wake up and do it all over again. Derg invented fire. I'll never invent anything. You know what I mean, lion? Lion?" But the lion doesn't answer because a) the lion doesn't have the capacity for language and b) hoooo boy, that lion is hella outta there! That lion likes a  nice tender caveman but depressed meat tastes all tough and gamey!

So all I'm saying is that Og shouldn't have been so sad because he truly left us, humanity, a fine legacy. Which of course means that he SHOULD be so sad, because if he hadn't been so sad, he would have been eaten by the lion, which means... oh no! Some kind of paradox! Quick, provide a link to a squirrel dressed in elaborate outfits and run away!

If you're just catching up (and who isn't in this crazy work-a-day world), I am constantly offering you, John Q Internet, informative tips on how to coolness. Coolnessing and how to do it are chronicled in my multi-part series "How to Coolness." How many parts are there in the series? I thought you'd never ask! No really, I thought you'd never ask and so I didn't make a plan. Oops! I mean, I planned the entire series out very carefully and am working on a multi-billion dollar book deal as we speak! Note to you, the reader: Do not point out the fact that "multi-part" is implied by "series".

When you see the jumping cat, you'll know what to do. And that's read more after.. THE JUMP!

Okay, okay, so the past couple of weeks have been hectic and I haven't been keeping up with the blog. It is like the blog is an athlete who runs a four minute mile and I am a non-athlete who just takes the bus instead. But here's news for that smug athlete: buses have engines, Mr or Mrs Athlete. And no matter how fast you run, eventually us bus folks are going to catch up with you. So while you're sweating and struggling your way to the finish line, be sure to look up at the bus whizzing by you. I'll be the one you see through the window eatin' dollar store potato chips and living the good life. What does exercise get you, anyhow? NOTHING. 

The last couple of weeks I have been spending a lot of time with my family. This is very typical behavior for many families at the holiday-rich time of year. What makes this behavior slightly atypical is that my family is insane. Not the detrimental kind of insane that leads to lots of tears and car crashes and documentary-style shows on A&E. No, we're the kind of nuts that nestles into the sweet spot that I like to call the FUNcanny Valley, where madness and hilarity meet.   In other words, we're like Rip Taylor.  

I sort of feel like those hardscrabble prospectors who came to California during the Gold Rush. You know the ones I mean. The ones that founded that football team? God I hate those guys. But when they got to California, they discovered a rich vein of sweet, juicy gold ore running down the plain old rock. Those prospectors mined the hell out of that vein, creating whole towns out of desert with just a little magic golden mineral. Of course, once the gold ran out and the football team started losing, these towns would lose residents and become ghost towns. After that point, the only sustainable business was making sandwiches for the Scooby Doo Gang when the Mystery Machine rolled into town to solve a ghost-related mystery. Sad, sad story. 

Anyway, my point is that my family is nuts and that it's comedy gold, which I am planning to mine for all it's worth. I like to make only those New Year's Resolutions that are keep-able. Hence, this year's resolution is "Lovingly mock family." I hope you will join me in the next few weeks as I strive to keep this resolution because, hey, it's way better than running a four minute mile. AIN'T THAT RIGHT, MR OR MRS ATHLETE. Yeah, he or she heard me.