REDIRECT

Not that anyone reads this anymore as I've been significantly dragging my feet lately on posting but I'm in Australia/New Zealand on vacation. SO...until further notice.....read http://nicksdownunder.blogspot.com

NEXT!!!

Can someone please explain to me why it is so difficult to find a "normal" tenant? Surely not everyone out there is a lunatic!? The past 24 hours have been an exercise in complete frustration.

Let's rewind a bit. Three friends of mine are renting out my house back in Austin. Two of them just bought their own place and are moving out at the end of August. The third, Casey, wants to stay so we're on the hunt for the ultimate roommate. Scratch that, we WERE on the hunt for the ultimate roommate, now we'd settle for someone that's at least half "normal" and a personality fit. Though, I'm not entirely sure I know what "normal" means at this point.

Casey posted an ad on craigslist last week and of course we received the anticipated onslaught of responses. Have you all ever seen History of the World Part I? There's that scene where Madeline Kahn playing Empress Nympho has to pick her escorts for the evening based on their "manly prowess". She walks down the row of men singing, "yes, no, no, no, no, no, no, YES, no, no, YES, no, no"..and so on. Watch the clip here if you haven't seen it...great scene. In any event that's how we felt sifting through these e-mail responses. There was the obligatory crazy, the predictably boring and a very short list of candidates that appeared to fit the mold.

Casey ultimately selected someone, let's call him George, for a one on one interview. George and Casey hit it off instantly. He was called back for a Sunday night bar-b-q to meet some of our friends. They too approved of George. Great! We had a roommate/tenant. I sat down Sunday night to draft up the rental agreement and e-mailed it to Casey, though I entirely forgot to PDF it. This was an oversight atypical of me but it turned out to be a fortuitous mistake. I soon received a signed copy of the contract from George in PDF format with a copy of his drivers license and a copy of two checks for the first months rent and deposit. Thus began trouble.

I gave a cursory glance over the contract and something quickly jumped out at me. There was some wording that I knew I never had in there. George had edited the contract to state his rent covered use of a second bedroom as his personal office (for the same price of course). My blood pressure immediately went through the roof. Don't screw with me George. Having noticed this glaring discrepancy I decided it would be prudent to scour this "new" contract for additional changes. I printed out the original version and George's version, placed one behind the other and held them up to the light. Instantly I found several sections that did not line up. Not only did he give himself another room, he removed all clauses pertaining to loss of deposit. He also changed the dollar amount for the late fee for rent.

WHO DOES THIS??? Did he think I wouldn't notice and blindly sign??? Needless to say I brought this up to Casey who was definitely disappointed but just as annoyed. Can we say red flags? I wrote a strongly worded e-mail to George citing my anger and stating that I would not be signing him as a tenant. He of course wrote back several times to try to weasel out of the situation. Every e-mail he sent only spurred additional lies and further solidified my stance. He finally threw in the towel when he saw I wasn't budging.

So we're back to square one. BOO. If any of you out there in blogger land know of someone in Austin who is looking to rent out a room in a cool house with a cool roommate...send them to this ad on craigslist. It's ultimately going to be Casey's decision who is selected but we're definitely on the look out for sane, fun applicants. Save us from tenant search hell!!!

Smashing Pumpkins, hallways and earthquakes

This morning I dub myself the most retarded person in San Francisco... :( Last night the Smashing Pumpkins held a private concert for music industry folks. Being one who works for LiveNation I of course had tickets and took my good friend Josh. The concert far exceeded my expectations. SO...following an amazing evening I come home to an empty house and a grateful pup. I heat up some pizza. I turn on the tv. I sit down on the couch. I decide that the trash needs to be taken down to the garage. I walk out the door. I walk down the stairs. I put the trash in the communal trash cans. I walk upstairs. I get to my door. I reach in my pockets. NO....FUCKING....KEYS!! Yes ladies and gentlemen, that's right...I locked myself out of the loft. Keep in mind I'm now wearing shorts, a t-shirt, no shoes and a very unhappy scowl. After about 10 minutes of panic I admit defeat and curl up at the top of the building stairwell which leads to the rooftop deck (this being the place least likely for neighbors to see a sleeping loser who is prone to locking himself out of his house). This small elevated corner of San Francisco became my humble bed for the next 5 hours. Seems fitting seeing that there are a multitude of people sleeping on the sidewalk outside....such is Natoma St.

I'm sleeping. I'm sleeping. I'm sleeping. I'M MOVING. I'M MOVING. I'M MOVING. Stirring into a loose state of consciousness I ponder where I am and what is going on. It takes all of 3 seconds before I realise that I am locked out of my home, sleeping in a stairwell and am being awakened by a fucking earthquake!! WHAT...ARE...THE...ODDS??? It was a small quake but definitely sufficient enough to bring me back into my bleak reality.

Just as fast as the tremor came, it went, leaving me to once again deal with my predicament. This time however I came at the problem with a mentality far less fatalist. I make a quick jaunt down to the communal trash room and select a few conspicuous items from the bin. YES. I KNOW. GROSS!! Chastise me all you want but I was tired and had to take a leak like a submarine 2500 feet down. I digress. So my items consisted of a heavy duty paper plate, a slim piece of cardboard and a hanger. Those things aside I must confess that I now think my neighbors are complete freaks based on their waste. Or perhaps I'm the freak for going through a trash bin at 4am to find things to jimmy open my large steel door. We'll leave that up for debate. Back at my downstairs door I make a futile effort at shoving things where things don't belong or do one any good. Sigh. Still locked out. "Maybe the upstairs door will fare better!!??" Sigh. Same result. I am now resigned to the fact that I'm going to have to go to work in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt more becoming of a hobo than an employed person. WAIT!!! LASSIE WILL COME TO MY RESCUE!! I hear my golden retriever inside milling around and I spend the next 15 minutes attempting to coach him through the door in the fine art of jumping up and putting his paws on the handle. Let's just say that his level of frustration eventually exceeded mine as he audibly began to cry......heartbreaking on so many levels.

At this point I'm entirely about to admit defeat when I had what I can only describe as divine intervention in the form of internal dialogue. "You have two sky lights in your house". I quickly sprint up the stairs to the roof and spend the next 5 minutes counting the number of sky lights over the railing to ensure that I was not about to slide into bed with one of my unsuspecting neighbors. Having located what I was 80% sure was one of my two sky lights I crawl over the railing and pray to God and country that the thing will budge. At first it wouldn't give an inch. Finally it started to open and it wasn't much longer before I had it yanked open just enough to look down at a long drop and the familiar sight of my towels in my guest bathroom. EUREKA!!! My dog soon hears my efforts and is dancing in jubilation below me as I embark on my descent. Foot touches the toilet then the floor....I'M HOME!!! I immediately lifted the toilet lid and had the most satisfying urination of my life.

So a couple morals of this story...1) never leave your house without keys if you have auto locking doors. 2) Go see the Smashing Pumpkins if you ever have the opportunity. 3) Dogs, while smart, are not smart enough to open a door for you. 4) Wash your hands thoroughly after riffling through your neighbors refuse. 5) ALWAYS have a satisfying piss after dropping through your 3rd floor sky light at 5am. 6) If you ever have to sit outside your own door.....put on a big girl face and have a little attitude about it ;)

A RANT, A SHOW, A PODCAST AND A HO

First the show: Jacob and I had the great fortune to obtain 10th row seats to the Gwen Stefani concert tonight. IT...WAS...FANTASTIC! Gwen was a paradigm of sparkle motion wrapped in a hundred pounds of fun flanked by sexy mens. I was moist.

A podcast: Dan and Jimmi randomly called me while I was waiting for Lady Sovereign to open for Gwen. They couldn't have selected a better moment to FINALLY include me in their little exclusive podcast clique. Now that they gave me a proper interview I suppose I'll start regularly listening. =)

A rant: To American parents: WHAT IN HOLY HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL?? As Jacob and I took our seats at the concert tonight we quickly realized that there were an unusually high number of children present. At first all I did was feign annoyance but this quickly morphed into utter disbelief. The opening acts for Gwen were Lady Sovereign and Akon. For those of you who aren't aware, Akon recently had his security grab a guy out of the crowd and toss him on stage so that he could be picked up by Akon and TOSSED viciously back into the crowd. See video below.



Back to my point, both of these acts were NOT G rated. I'm entirely guilty of throwing out the f bomb amid a frenzy of other expletives but I don't do this around kids. All I can surmise is that either these parents are so devoid of any knowledge regarding what their children culturally absorb or they just don't care. In either actuality...SHAME ON YOU. I couldn't in 10 million years fathom bringing my pre-teen to that concert. What was scarier was that these innocent looking young girls turned into bubble gum hookers the second the music started. They knew every lurid dance move, every dirty word and every foul gesture that went along with it. I'm by no means a prude but I was really freakin' upset by it. Parents..how about we try to set an easily obtainable goal: RAISE YOUR KIDS SO THAT THEY ARE STILL VIRGINS BY THE AGE OF 11. If you make it that far I'll tip my hat to you because from my point of view half those kids were busting moves that I have to see on pay per view. I love freedom but I'm not so sure I would balk at a constitutional amendment requiring certification to breed at this point.

Finally...a ho: Dan, I just finished listening to your podcast and I'd like to make a couple points. #1) It has not been 8 months since my last post and I did not post just to legitimize my presence at the party Saturday. It's all good, I know that since it has been ages since your last podcast you felt the pressure to make a quip at my expense to spice up an otherwise bland bowl of porridge. Ok ok ok yes I have been on a blogging hiatus but we can thank work for that. All is forgiven ;) #2) Do we really need to refer to my street as a crack ridden alley? WAIT...OH FUCK...I do live on a crack ridden alley. Ok scratch point number two. .

Can't wait to see everyone this weekend!

Happy little tree

My sister sent me a video this afternoon of a show that I used to adore as a kid but haven't thought about in ages. I'm sure most of you know who Bob Ross is..? He's the painter who had a public access show in which he'd crank out nature paintings in each episode. I swear this man had the most soothing voice. I used to love sitting at home nodding off to him talking about happy little trees and happy little clouds with the sound of his brush strokes in the background. He almost put me asleep today at the office watching the video on youtube. Screw NyQuil...just toss him on your TV at night. ZZzzzzz ZZZzzzzz ZZZZZzzzzz

Conflicting Careers

Ok people, if I've said it once I've said it a thousand times...if you're going to be a rapist you need to be sure that your day job is not as a news anchor. Jesus, some idiots just don't think ;)

The bigger they are the harder they Fall-well

I am truly not one who revels in the death of any human being but I never considered this man a member of the human race...SO....ADIOS JERRY FALWELL. You will not be missed. Perhaps now as you sit in your self induced hell of an afterlife you'll have this epiphany: "Oh shit I had it all wrong". For those who would like to read about his very timely passing, here ya go.