BluBox

New York City, baby.

Tuesday, August 26, 2003

In an attempt to stay connected with our country's rapidly devolving culture, Blubox has been soaking in that seductive fry-o-later known as the media. The result is the discovery of a show with the potential to join in the footsteps of those other classic FOX young adult dramas of the 90s. It's name is the O.C.. But trenchant observations are going to have to wait because Blubox Intern just announced she was "getting me drunk". She did add: "Oh, but finish your writing." Yeah. Right.

We leave you with this thought: can anything really be culturally significant until it's mentioned in Blubox?

Wednesday, August 20, 2003

With a mention from that grand fuckin' facilitator Lockhart Steele of that ultra-tranquilo blog LockhartSteele.com, we here at Blubox anticipate our readership to take off like the combination of untucked striped dress shirts and vintage jeans.

We want to take advantage of the flood of "instant fans" with some good old fashioned self-promotion on our sleepy little "hasn't learned to walk yet" blog. Needless to say, there is an art to this so one doesn't come off like a total whore. It's the kind of thing a Lockhart (of Book Of Ages fame) or a Van Geison (of Buddy Cianci: The Musical fame) pulls off with a magic how-did-they-do-it touch.

Not possessing that kind of general savvy, Blubox is just going to come out and announce the screenwriting success of its most detail-oriented employee Matt Shepatin, who recently won Third Place and The Top Comedy in Script Magazine's Open Door Contest sponsored by Splendid Pictures(http://www.scriptmagazine.com/pages/contests/mainresults.shtml)

Those who would like to contact him directly, perhaps to fulfill his "Kermit the Frogesque" Hollywood dreams, can do so at mbshep@hotmail.com. Ok, Blubox is going to take a shower because they feel so dirty. Meanwhile, speed-read our many other posts: the very meaning of innocence.

Tuesday, August 19, 2003

Blubox is too old to wallow in own pain – or at least write about life’s little screwjobs.
So what’s left to talk about? I’ve narrowed it down to 5 things: The Restaurant. The Red Sox (Or how much I detest the Yankees). Box Office Results. Bloggers. New Music.

Today I shall tackle the first issue on my list…

With his winning “I just got blown” smile and his decidedly Affleckish “the smoke I’m blowing up your ass is also good for the environment” flair, Rocco Dispirito seemed like the kind of guy that Blubox would like to cockpunch and then run. That was after seeing the first couple of episodes of The Restaurant, i.e. the best reality TV show since Joe Millionaire (Damn you, Burnett. Damn you for being so good.) But the more I watch The Restaurant the more I favorably alter my opinion of Rocco. Huh? What? Not since Blubox changed his review of Neil Young’s Silver and Gold, which originally garnered a lowly 1 1/2 stars and then many years later was changed to 3 stars has there been such a dramatic reevaluation. The more I see what Rocco has to deal with – in particular, how many Haters he has to contend with – the further I move into his corner. In one episode a very important chef with a very important foreign accent - dining at Rocco’s with another famous chef chiefly for the pleasure of being sorely disappointed with the dining experience - gets into bitchy chef mode before the tiramusu has arrived, commenting on how sad it is that “certain chefs have to prostitute themselves.” You know what, dude? Leave the Rockster alone. The fellow chef defends Rocco’s showman like skills by pointing out that since the dawn of time chefs have been as much hustlers as they have been cooks. As he explains “at the end of the day we are all servers” because “great food is not enough.” The same could be said of another creative vocation. Are those who realize that they are a “server” to the public a mature person or a sell-out who has lost his conviction? Blubox is making their brain hurt. Time to stop contemplating these kind of questions. A weak move after three glasses of Pinot Grigio. Time to go drinking with friends. Friends are what matter, homeslice.