Friday – Saddle Ranch , gaggle of girls, broken trunk, no bull... you do the math

Saturday – El Chollo, double feature, 80’s night, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, The Breakfast Club, in Hollywood, with 4 best friends that graduated from Hollywood High in 1985... fucking awesome.

Sunday – volunteering for Inside Out, game booth, Venice Beach, Jimmy Kimmel’s San Gennaro Festival, Roosevelt Hotel, dig it.

Dig it.

Dig it.

DID I MENTION – one chocolate shake, cheese fries with gravy, 2 pear ciders, nachos grande, chilidog with cheese, potato chips, zeppole’s, mint chocolate chip ice cream, cannoli...
Seriously.

No seriously.

NOTE TO SELF: Fanny packs or bust.

And we met
In the moment
We sang
We laughed
We drank
We reminisced
Of times.

That night
And we laughed
And we laughed
And we laughed

We were one.

All of us, six, one hundred, five thousand it didn’t matter the size
We were... were we?
Drinking glasses of wine like daisyroses
And filet mignon the size of lovers
With marigolds for dessert.

We lived.

... and in that moment
We met
We talked
We walked
We were

We lived.

Moments passed, moments stayed
We exchanged nothing, but life.

But life.

Until we meet again
Never
But it lasted our lifetimes.

We met.
We danced.
We drank.


We were...

So, I went to the premiere of Employee of the Month last night.

My review:

Jessica Simpson could not act her way out of a parking ticket from Hugh Hefner. Her lackluster performance did not aid in helping this overtly simplistic plot and lack of laugh-out-loud moments.

Dane Cook was very natural as an actor and produced some great chemistry on screen. but alas, I’ve heard his stand up comedy, and he's side-splitting funny. This movie... not so much.

The “award show” before the movie aired was quite long and boring. For some reasons, the president of Lion’s Gate Films and the director of the movie had to go in front of the audience and suck each other’s dicks (uh, that’s lay terms for overthetop complimenting) and I quote “Blah blah blah, thanks for the chance blah blah blah this is a masterpiece blah blah blah” (and I’m thinking, um, this isn’t Schindler’s list folks).

If you get to see if free – it’s kind of long, but has some “huh, that’s funny” moments.

If you are paying full price at a theatre – don’t.

If you are Netflixing it – it’s better than HollywoodLand (See Also: long, boring, and even the very sexy Adrien Brody *insert AlphaTheGreat in an Adrien Brody and Woody Allen sandwich* couldn’t save this snoozefest).

I usually see films way before they hit the theatres.... wanna know if you should see it? Just ask.

Oh, and be sure to put that saved theatre money into a fund for my boob job (kidding).

Land Of LA... out.

scream at each other,
hug each other,
fuck each other,
fight each other,
provoke each other,
disagree with each other,
argue with each other,
holler at each other,
support each other,
give up on each other,
loathe each other,
lust each other,


love each other...

it never ends.

Lost Angeles.
Merriment of mourning
Thorn in my eye
Seed of my existence

Who needs you.

Lost Angeles.
Faker of friends
Fictional fiancé
Charlatan of my addiction

Greed in you.

Lost Angeles.
Facsimile smiley spaces
Producer of pseudo
re-dried dreams, bloated.

That goes for you too.

GetThisGirlSome: She’s not pretending

... cause this empty stage is to filled with you.

September Eleventh.
Knees went weak
No pipers piping
Still hear the weeps.

September Eleventh.
Death was birthed
No pipers piping
Returned to the earth.

September Eleventh.
Losses still yearning
No pipers piping
Edifice still burning.

September Eleventh.
Eyes filled with hate
No pipers piping
Opened heaven’s gate.

September Eleventh.
It happens every day
No pipers piping
War and mishap always stay.

September Eleventh.
Life’s not guaranteed
No pipers piping
Their song has been deleted.


To all who have loved and lost and lost and loved, the tune in my heart cries out.

Water

Breathe another sound of fury
Flowers are fading
She’s all out of glory.

Air

Drown me another blunder
Verisimilitude has always wondered.
She’s all filled with story.

Fire

Bludgeon me in depths too grand
Hebetudinous... only takes a stand
She’s buried underneath your esoteric.

Earth

Burn me with a life of bliss
Creativity is losing
She’s fallen for your tryst.

Ailments or elements (she’s always applied their salve)

Give her more than musecanswallow

And mutilate her aortic valve.

WARNING: The following blog post is rated “FH” for FUCKING HOT. If you are currently taking medications for any heart conditions and/or sexual dysfunction, uh, hm.

I want to get a tattoo of the outline of NJ on my ass cheek. Yes, that’s right. The outline of New Jersey (fun, fun, fun). So I’m playing around with placement to see where it might work best.

Here’s what it would look like:



So, whaddya think? Looks so funny! Ha! I'm thinking maybe I should wait until I’m thirty? Three years away... might-as-well go out with a SHABANG.

Other opinions on placement welcome. Feel free to stage an intervention at any time.

JERSEY 4-LIFE!!

Mostly R&R this holiday weekend, sitting by the pool, shopping, dog sitting this cute little pup (not the one with the wine glass):


oh and...

THIS:



dig it.

Enginesroaringsittinginthesecondrow,neededearplugs,heart pacing,carsracing,fucking AWESOME.


Redneck women of the world, UNITE!

Here’s what someone said about me:

"You are hotter than fish grease at a cookout, in July, in the middle Death Valley."

Uh, that’s deep.

What did I do on my NY vacation? Hm. Let me count the ways:
Got shit out of a giant ass...


Almost got arrested for public indecency...


Went to a FABULOUS wedding...


I swear it was THIS big...


Joined the New Jersey bear hunt...


Find the psycho in the picture...


My six-year-old niece took this one...



Blushing bride...



Me, my bro and my pops for my bro’s b-day...



My mom and her date at the wedding...

So you’re probably wondering “Self, I wonder how healthy AlphaTheGreat is?”

Well, well my lovelies, sit right back and let me tell you the results of my recent physical (THE AUDIENCE SAYS: no seriously ATG, is muse in hiding? Like we give a shit about YOUR health).

You’ll be happy to know that my blood glucose
level is in normal range (normal meaning between 65-99), mine is 94... looks like there is no diabetes in my immediate future.

My liver, thyroid, blood count, and chemistries (sodium, potassium, glucose, and kidney) were all “normal” (insert me being “normal” for once). I suppose the mass quantities of alcohol, drugs and junk food I consume have had no affect on my psyche.

How’s my cholesterol, you ask?

Total cholesterol = 180 (optimum is below 200)
HDL = 56 (optimum is 60 or higher, but you are only considered “at risk” if you are less than 40)
Triglyceride = 98 (optimum is less than 150)
LDL = 104 (100-129 is close to optimal, less than 100 is best)

You’ll also be very happy to note that I tested negative for gonorrhea, Chlamydia, syphilis, and the HIV. DIG IT! Looks like those late night rendezvous with (INSERT NAME OF SCANDALOUS AFFAIR HERE) did no damage to my goods.

Dig it.

So share, my fellow supporters: How’s your prostate?

(I say this in jest, but really this is a CALL FOR ACTION for you to get a physical so that you can monitor your health so you can stay alive so you can ready my Blog FOREVER!!!)

CRASH.

Your lonely pilot just called for help,
Fading fast
Or couldn’t you tell...

Don’t fall for her
She’ll burn you with the sky
She’s always flying solo
She’ll always make you cry.

BOOM.

Your control panel just lost its lights
Falling past
Your black box was right...

abate...the feeling, her
She’ll burn you with the sky
She’s always flying solo
She’ll always make you try.

BANG.

Your sense of direction just turned for the worse
Feel the blast
Your cockpit might thirst.

Don’t fall for her
She’ll burn you with the sky
She’s always flying solo
She’ll always make you sigh.

And the degradation will be distorted at first
That’s the plight of the pilots curse
She’s always on the wire
She’ll make you go off course

But still you’ll continue climbing,
Until you feel the...


BURST.

Some facts you might not know about ATG:
My brother and I are currently the same age. We will remain the same age until August 22, when he will turn 28. Irish Twins.



My parents don’t really know when I was born (stoners). Um, apparently the 70’s took their toll on them. How, you ask, did this all come to play? Well, well, sweeties, sit right here on my lap and let me tell you a little tale about a girl named Jodi Lee…

I was born on July 29 (probably) 1979. My mother apparently named me Jodi Lee. Yes, that is right, Jodi Lee Johnson.

Now I don’t quite know all the details or how things transpired, but my father sent a birth certificate change form to change my name to Alpha N Johnson. Yes, that is right, my middle name is “N”. So for the first few months of my life, I was Jodi Lee. Somewhere around the month of October 1979, my new birth certificate came in the mail, and my name was officially Alpha N.

SO THE STORY GOES…

My family celebrated my birthday on July 29 up until I was 16. When I was 16, I needed a copy of my birth certificate in order to get my driving permit. My mother instructed me to get my birth certificate from the safe deposit box. I did.
*SHOCK*




So I take a look at the birth certificate… and it says “Alpha N Johnson” born on July 27, 1979.

You can imagine my surprise.

I told my mother.

She thought I was joking.

So, what date was I really born on? 27th, 29th, 27th 29th… Hm. To this day I do not know.

So when you call on July 27th, you can say Happy Birthday to Jodi Lee and when you call on July 29th, tell Alpha N she rocks your world.

Dig it.

perhaps... she said, uh
we could be what we want
to be

drifting on a whim

BOMBS AWAY

Hm. WWIII... land, love, life, happiness.
i decree: if you can't play nicely, then we will take your toys away.
chosen people or not.

rAnDom

So I Google’d my name, which I like to do every so often to make sure there are no slanderous wehatealphathegreat.com sites… and what do I spy with my little eyes??? This random Blog http://funwithnames.blogspot.com/ that posts weird names. Guess who made the list in 2004? Yours truly! Well, not really… looks like my good friend Bryna added a comment about me. I have reached celebrity status after all. Ahem.

Bryna, thanks for keeping my memory alive in cyberspace. Oh, and in case you’re wondering if I showed up anywhere else… just the “Review” section of Amazon.com . I’ve reviewed a few products (dork).

Drown in a pool of thought
But all I found is naught
Rumination got bought

(this garage sails… free box or bust).

Swim in a bath of me
But all I saw was she
Cerebration turned to glee

(this brainstorm hails…gratis my lust)

Survive in a tank of life
But all she felt was strife
Contemplation is right

(this wing bailed… left on the cusp)

GETTHISGIRLSOME: shecan’tremember


Or asphyxiate the need.

I was at the 25th annual BET Awards, and all you’re getting is this lousy t-shirt.

Sorry folks, I didn't take any pictures! But check the link above to see who I ran into...Prince, Missy Elliot, Eminem, the usual… just another day in the life of me.

Celeb Encounter I’m Not So Ashamed Of Admitting: Joe Jackson, as in Michael Jackson’s father. Um, one of these days I’m bound to run into Mike, maybe once I have children or something (snicker, snicker). Janet was looking mighty Jackson-esque as well, but no sign of Tito or Jermaine (bummer).


Disturbing Moment Of the Night: A 35-year old grown ass man-rapper on the red carpet drinking some kind of red alcohol from a baby bottle. I do remember when the whole “baby bottle, pacifier” thing was big (not cool, just big) when everyone had pacifiers hanging out of their mouths and on chains and what not… well it was big in Jersey, not sure about the rest of the earth. I was in 8th grade, which would be about 14 years ago. Mr.35-year-old-gangsta-baby… get a grip (and not of a rattle).

Bitch Of The Night: Omarosa’s publicist. ATG KEEPS IT REAL - All celebs (no matter what the status) had to go through metal detectors, and the line got a bit long at one point, and Omorasoa’s publicist was like “Omaraosa is NOT waiting on that line” and I was thinking, um, yeah woman, what the fuck ever, when Omarosa saves a village of burning children, or donates billions to the AIDS fund, maybe she can go through the special entrance *insert me bitch-slapping Ms. PR*

Red Carpet Misfits: Hm. What the h-e-double-hockey-sticks is up with black rappers and singers looking so retarded when they dress up? It’s like they are trying to one-up each other on who can look the goofiest or show the most unappealing section of their bodies.

Men – that whole gangster-pants-showingyourboxers-XXXXXL-white t-shirt-huge-ass-gold-medallion-of-the-Virgin-Mary-with-matching-gold-plated-teeth-chain is SOOOOOOO not cute.

Ladies – when your hair style looks like you glued a Muppet to your head, it’s not a good sign. Oh, and cellulite + short shorts never really hit it big either.


Hopefully that is enough celeb gossip to quell your gullet until the next time. Oh Wait! I can’t forget my recent dinner encounter with our very own AC Slater (Saved By The Bell)… you can ring my bell anytime, AC (wink, wink)… gotta love dining on Sunset Boulevard.

That is all you're getting from this LALAlinguist… Alpha N, OUT.

tee hee.

What have I been up to?

Watching Sunsets at Hermosa Beach.



Volunteering to clean/paint high schools in the ghetto.


Going to birthday parties.

Going to festivals in my town.



The usual.

Touch me.

Let the gods reign through
You feel like home
As Raindrop’s dew

Connect to my worldtimespace
And give me a change
Can you be my metamorphosis?
Can you heel my lifelovepain?

Heaven help us.

Affect me.

Make the masses speak true.
Hand over my prospects
Burn an effigy of you.

Dissect my godgivenright
And give me estranged
Can’t you feel my innerdevotion
Can’t you see my existencelivedinvain

Utopia or bust.


Imitate me.

Drown me in ocean swells
Give me the freedom
The tides have felt.

Reject my muse’smistakenidentity
And make me your escape.
Won’t you be my…she’llneverletyoucatchher
Won’t you try my… destiny’sfate

Manufacture me a legend.

I remember wanting to marry my cat. Funny, the things we think of when we are young. Funny, the things we remember when we’re drunk.

First Grade.
Nothing special about this particular cat. “Kipty Angora”, that is what I named her. 7 years old, and making up shit even then.

I guess some thing’s never change.

I used to listen to Janis Joplin on my record player, or maybe that was the time she used to listen to me.

Wine.
Like I used to do.
Wine.
Drink it too.

So I met him.
And I loved him.

But don’t we all.

(fall)

And I’m okay with that.

Raindrops on my pillow
Case
Won this with the plaintiff’s
Face
Intimacy Issues, Me.


Coffee spilled on the copy
Machine
Secretary’s sleeping with the marketing
Team
Disgruntled Worker, Me.

Too many dreams on this Dandelion’s
Leave
Warnings of tornadoes made the wishes
Flee
Tragedy Stricken, Me.

Two stones at bay, so this bird doesn’t
Sing
The rope around my neck turned into a
Ring
HearbreakerHeartbroken, Me.


GET THIS GIRL SOME: LONELYDISECTION

BCC: InnerMonologue
CC: Muse's Direction

She thought…

Love, fix me some pancakes.

Love, walk me through flower gardens.

Love, fold the towels the way I like them.

Love, you’re stepping on my pinky toe.

She said…
in that reminiscent way, while the boys did lines of coke off their car keys
(cola was only in the MIXED drinks). And the girls played Double-Dutch on the backsides of humanity (don’t skip a beat).

Foursquareturnedisoscelesaround.

She wondered…
What single celled organism defines me:
Damn. This Euglena just bitch-slapped your counterproductive, (flagella’s got a brand new puppet).

Rock like igneous (as she used to say).

Strings detached.

Terms of endearment my exes have called me (in no particular order):
Peanut
Baby
Darling
Sweetheart
sweetie
Seagull
humming Zipporah
alephkaminski
Booboo
Aleph
Lady
gull
Hummingbird
Alphababy
Love lump
Alphantasy
Honeypie
Alphabooboo
mon petite fleur
caramel drop
coffee bean
black butterfly
flubber

Most of these were from e-mail headings. The ones in italics were what I was called on the regular.

Interesting stuff, huh? I was having a good time thinking of all of them. I’ll have to see if I remember any others. Anyone have any fun ones to add to the list?

Which one of ya'll finally let the secret out of the bag... tee hee





Post Secret
dig it.

Just in case you didn’t know… here’s what I think:

ON abortion… pro-choice with restrictions: I think everyone’s entitled to a few drunken mishaps with the next-door neighbor without having to raise a child as a consequence.
Once…shame on you.
Twice… let’s try sucking your body through a vacuum and see how you like it.
Three times… keep the baby, kill yourself.


ON race issues… I lock my doors when I drive in my car alone in East LA, but not in Beverly Hills… that about sums it up.


ON religion… I choose to believe there is something (sOmEoNe) ANYTHING out there in the great abyss we call the universe, that I can’t quite comprehend, nor do I try. I enjoy thinking that something is beyond my level of conversance. Choosing to believe is a lot different than stating “I do believe”. You do the math.

ON gays/lesbians… I could care less where you choose to stick your dick or your tits. As for me, I’m pro-dicks (sorry ladies).

ON death… I love life and its entire splendor. I wouldn’t necessarily say that I fear death, but more the non-living aspect of it. I’d choose to live on this earth for a very long time if I could (not quite immortal but at least until 400 years of age). If my time here is shorter than I desire, I’ve lived a full wonderful existence up until this point.

ON love… love. love. love. love. love. stop untying my shoelaces.


ON illegal immigration reform… I support it. We need change. As liberal as I seem, I think it’s about time the US regulates who comes in and out of our borders. I do think there needs to be some ameliorations in the Work-Visa program and with the Application process to become a citizen, but as for all those who came in “illegally”… kick em’ out until we have it sorted out. As controversial as it may seem, I say we give all the jobs that “nobody in America will do” to the welfare mongers stealing my tax dollars (a bit conservative, wouldn’t you say?)

So that’s my story and I’m sticking to it… how about you?

I’m inside myself.

crawling.

with infection or inflection (she’s bent to capacity)
Her erudition is mending.

GET THIS GIRL SOME COGITATION GOGGLES QUICK

she’s sees herself seething
her minds in a drink…

she’s laughing so hard
That her insides might break
but I’m squirming within me
her aortic valve’s got the shakes.

I’ll start in my stomach
too many butterflies exist
they entered through my muse-scape
but how can they live?

I’ll head for my brain stem
and erase all those thoughts
as I’m sliding through stem cells
OH FUCK, think I’m lost.

I’m riding down red vines
purple black and blue
someone just passed me
I think it was you…

how’d you get in here?
my heads not that big
oh wait, you’re in my heart
or is that just where you slid…

I’m gliding within me
creeping up to my eyes
they're filled with perception
I’ll empty them with cry.

OH SHIT! Here’s a tremor
hold on to my seat
Was that just an earthquake?
Or did her heart skip a beat…

I’m clambering within me
I scream and I shout
within my own existence
I fear I can’t get out.

her thinking problem returns
She’s reunited at last
she stares face to face
with her self in the past.

she’s swarming within me
I’m back in her head
but the mirror we passed
showed your reflection instead…

It’s 8:08 pm on a Friday night, and I don’t feel like doing anything (nothing) SOMETHNG.
Blame it on...
Global warming
Or Roe vs. Wade
Or Asian Flu
Or Racism
Or Satan’s Minions
… but she's being aMUSED by her own existence.

Lost Angel-less

Dig it.

So this weekend was more than spectacular, well above mediocrity and a step below phantasmagorical.

It always helps if you start it off right with Sushi and plum wine and then head to the most deliciously awful (yes, deliciously) movie I’ve ever seen, Ultraviolet. Um, read the reviews, hon, they are right on point.

It wouldn’t be HWood without the Hipster hangouts, and I’m all about rocking out to some…(insert me NOT knowing what the name of the dance club was that housed all that is Hipster)

Don’t fret, I never even heard the term “hipster” before I landed in the land of LA LA, must be a west coast thing.

So I’m in my first Independent Film (rock on), met a lot of cool people, and got to dance and drink in a house party scene (with real dancing and drinking). Can you believe you get paid to do shit like this here? HA! I'll give you details when the movie comes to a theatre near you.

Brace Yourselves.

The last stop in my Tour De LA was the E! Entertainment Cocktail Party hosted by Ryan Seacrest. Did ya Tivo me? I got a few calls like, “Um, did I just see you and Ryan on a couch”. HA! Good times.

More to come (livin la vida loca)…