“The first actual television occurrence of a Rickroll occurred on June 21, 2007 on the late-night talk show Last Call with Carson Daly. Carson claimed that he was going to show “a video of Paris Hilton and Busta Rhymes making out” that he found on the Internet. Instead, a clip of the music video was played, and he declared the audience to have been Rickrolled
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rickroll
This is a man who only talks about golf and still wears livestrong bracelets. If he’s Rick Rolling people, you’re not allowed to anymore.
I have an office. I’m currently sitting in the air-conditioned comfort of suite 500, in the building at 7211 Santa Monica Blvd., across the street from the Formosa Cafe, next to Jones Cafe, and directly above your friendly local medicinal marijuana dispensiary. This is the very first time in my life that I’ve had an office to call my own. If you’ve spoken to me in the last couple weeks, you’ve probably gotten sick of me talking about it. “I have an office.” The sentence feels strange coming out of my mouth, but I will also admit it elicits a certain vague pride.
My father always had an office of his own. I remember as a child accompanying him on evenings and weekends to work there. I’d sit and draw, usually sketching one of the Ferrari models he had on his desk, while he poured over paperwork. Occasionally we would draw together, bonding experiences that would inevitably turn into unspoken drawing contests, a product of the streak of competition that we both share. He’d always win, and by the time I was skilled enough that I might’ve had a shot at beating him I no longer was interested in the weekly visits.
His office was the closest thing to church that I had growing up (except for real church, of course, which we went to on major holidays and random friday afternoons). We went almost every sunday, and it was a clean, quiet place to be introspective and do work without interruption, free from the chaos of home. It was one of those childhood rituals that never is aknowledged by anyone involved, but comes to feel like an integral part of growing up. I have similar emotions associated with washing cars with my father on Saturday mornings. Go figure.
So now I have my own place of work and reflection. It feels important too, like another step in the march towards adulthood. Not age associated adulthood, but the real feeling of maturity and self-reliance that comes only gradually as you attain those little milestones in life. Like getting an office. I have an office.
Faceless ‘aliens’ spotted in crowd at Wimbledon | Mail Online
Creepy. And kind of awesome. I just hope it’s not another viral marketing ploy.
So I’ve been home for three days and I’m still not close to being dug out from under the pile of shit I need to do right now. If you wrote or called me and I haven’t gotten back to you yet I’m sorry.
I just wanted to thank everyone that worked on the movie for all their hard work and dedication. It was an amazing shoot, and everyone rolled with the punches extremely well considering all the factors of being there. Special thanks especially go to Stacey Hinnen, Doug Davis, and Kevin Monge, who constituted the whole of grip / electric / camera. You guys worked your asses off, and it shows in the footage.
Part of me says thank god, it’s almost over.
Also, part of me wishes I could do it every day.
I get home on Sunday. I want to sleep and drink for three days straight.
fuuuuuuuuck yoouuuuuuuu guuuuuuuuuuys.
yeah, we sure as fuck did. Aziz had that face THE ENTIRE MOVIE. i told him to stop because it will hurt him later. but he didnt, and i dont blame him…..IT WAS ONE INCREDIBLE MOVIE.
So, we did it. We saw “The Dark Knight” almost a month before its release date. I have to say, it was pretty fucking amazing. Wait…scratch that. It was ABSOLUTELY, DEFINITELY, BALLS TO THE WALL, FUCKING AMAZING!
Also, Heath Ledger is the greatest actor of all time. Nobody can ever play the joker after this dude. NOBODY!
We’re about to start Dark Knight on IMAX. I’m pretty fucking excited.