Hello, Failure

Of all the enemies of literature, success is the most insidious

Sunday, January 02, 2005

Failure of the Day: 5

How good was new year’s eve? We found free street parking. Within one block of the club we were going to. In North Beach. On new year’s frickin’ eve, people! Can you even comprehend the magnitude of that kind of good fortune? I can’t! I can’t comprehend it!

We went to Cobb’s and saw what would have to be one of the top 5 best comedy shows I have ever seen in my 20 plus years of seeing comedy shows: Greg Proops, Patton Oswald, and Dana Gould. And we saw Dave Eggers and his wife in the audience, adding a celebrity seal of approval to our entertainment choice.

I believe Dana Gould is the Funniest Person on Earth and a true genius. Go download his CD Funhouse but do not listen to it while driving. Seriously. Because the cop who pulls your body from the mangled wreckage of your car will have to tell your loved ones that your last words were, inexplicably, “Holy shit, the moon!”

On Saturday we finally saw Oceans 12, which I thought was terrific. There was a visual in the first one (the remake): Brad Pitt in a brown wig and horn rim glasses, AKA God’s perfect nerd, that had to have been pulled directly from my not at all buried fantasy of what Nancy-centric porn would look like. In O12, there was a similar visual that just got me: Topher Grace in moneyed grunge wear and long greasy hair. God!

It’s worth noting that Topher Grace is the spit and image of a teenage Chris. (Chris doesn’t see it, but everyone who knew him then agrees with me.) There was just something about seeing Topher so dirty and manly and fucked up in an LA hotel room that was incredible hot. And really, what good is being married if you can’t fantasize about sexually defiling your husband’s adolescent self?

It was a lovely vacation. My bookshelves are roomy now and my closet is downright empty. It’s back to work for me this week. Happy New.


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