REVIEW OF THE WEEK
by
BAO DAI OF HOLLYWOOD
10 SEPTEMBER 2000
Take the MTV Music Video Awards... I started to watch them, but someplace between Papa Roach's opening act atop the Marquee of Radio City Music Hall and the final award, I fell asleep. Hours later I awakened long enough to decide not to watch a rerun and instead caught a pretty interesting HBO Special on male prostitutes who work what a part of Santa Monica Blvd in West Hollywood which is, (affectionately or not) known as "Boy's Town"which frankly made me glad I have no urge for there services, but which was weird because the unseen interviewer kept handing these so-called "boys" (one was over 30, married with kids) $50 bills (having no doubt read last week's urging of a boycott of the twenty and the fellows stripped and talked and about their lives... it was depressing... sort of like watching a really bad porno movie except with no sex (unless you consider nudity sex... in fact, there was so much nudity I would have been sure that I was watching Showtime, except I could hear it, and although I PAY for Showtime, if a program is on I want to watch, the volume is automatically gone... vamooso (it is, of course, fine the rest of the time).
My local cable representative says this is "Showtime's" problem. Back in the day, you used to get a free day if your TV went out for even a second (hence I left it on at all hours listening for the tell tale signs of snow so I could speed dial the cable company and get $1.49 worth of free cable (since it always came back on before i wanted to watch anything).
No mas... now it's "Well call Showtime." Yeah, like they really care I can't hear their shows.... I still pay for them, right?
Anyway, all this frustration has been worsened by sleep deprivation, which has lead me to a rigorous course of self-medication, which I touched upon in last week's review, but I've increased it...
My 5 a.m. Regimen:
Realize, these are pills and capsules I take from an ashtray (which actually came from India and was a gift from someone rich and famous) upon being awakened "so I know I have an hour more to sleep" by some lunatic screaming "Come to Order... the Honorable Maybeline Effrim presiding" over what I can only assume is the NY feed of Divorce Court. This signals me to remove the Tupperware container over the remote so I can turn Judge Effrim off. The ashramtray with all the home concoctions (mainly bought at the drug/health food/grocery store and pour them down my throat with a slug of warm Key Lime Diet Soda from the night before. Half the time I forget about them until several alarms go off at six and I find the ashramtray and take them while waiting for the third emergency alarm... the $2/a shot one from 97-IDIOT, so I can go into try and finish showering and self medicating before the last in my fail safe system goes off, which is my clock radio, set so if I over sleep I will immediately panic ... sometimes I wonder what the neighbors think (especially when during a long shower Howard Stern is trying to convince two lesbians to tongue wrestle at full volume.
No wonder the 2 places above the Millennial Condo are vacant....
Anyway, in my quest for better health and more energy, I consume the following, ideally so they all hit me just as I awaken for good (or bad):
400 mg. cimetane
50 mg. Vioxx and 325 mg. Naprosyn
2 Pyruvite and chromium pills of dubious origin
3 "Up Your Gas" (Ma Huang Free formula, but with everything including the kitchen sink in there); and
several thousand mgs. of Korean Ginseng
Let me say this... none of this stuff, save the scheduled stuff does any good... at best, it makes me feel like someone is strangling my stomach, especially if I throw caution to the wind and take 15-25 mgs. of Prednisone.
Which is sort of OK, because in my briefcase I carry Phenegran to (really folks) battle the twisted colon thing (with which Elvis was also afflicted, although I'm not sure we got it for the same reason and I certainly don't help it along with fried banana sandwiches, burgers and shakes... then again, he had a much more sympathetic doctor, I've never worn a jump suit and I don't play Vegas. I also, like Elvis, carry some other stuff to counter act the effects of my self-medication, but since my self medication doesn't really work, I generally either take these for their own dubious reasons, or just for the hell of it, since by and large none of this stuff works and I still have a 3 hour plus commute and more often than not end up crawling into bed Thursday night when I get home, hoping the 3 mg. of Melatonin (which does work) won't cause me to fall asleep just as I'm coming up on my old friend Manual Noriega the crack dealer... who could probably keep me awake, but with my luck, if I stopped, I'd probably spend many hours awake up at the LAPD's Rampart Station trying to get them to beat me so I could sue and then wouldn't need to take huge, worthless, "dietary suppplements."
And to top all this off (if you haven't been counting: enormous bill for worthless products, horrendous 23 mile commute, no volume on Showtime, apparent inability to come up with anything close to an original idea for a review this week and narcolepsy), perhaps my biggest regret of the year was deciding to diligently review MTV's The Real World.9. Well, tonight I think I'll take a double dose of Melatonin... maybe the answer will come in a dream......