Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Rex gets a letter from a long lost friend..


A letter from our old friend Cash Frock arrived over the long Thanksgiving roost. The last time I heard from ole'Cash, he was stuck in the routine of passing out with his head in the refrigerator twice a week. I know that you all were tight during the crack war days, shacked up in that 4th Avenue Brooklyn apartment , but Cash sounds like the same old Orson Wells that never made it.

His current roommate is a Kurt Cobain guitar freak that defaulted to computer programming after getting heavy into heroine. The apartment doesn't sound like anything to write home about except that it's huge. According to Cash, it's a football field in length, with high ceiling exceeding 20 feet. Can you confirm any of this? It's always a bit unsettling to get a letter from someone like that out of nowhere. At least he's alive. Did you go to Arafat's funeral?

Hope you're eating good..


Monday, November 22, 2004

Rex gets something off his chest about accountants and bankers..


I was screaming racial epithets at my accountant over coffee this morning, hoping he would quit so I wouldn't have to fire him. After two hours of exhausting every derogatory phrase that came to mind, I decided that accountants who quit are a rare breed.

As for bankers..

Bankers rarely had the shit beat out of them growing up. (at least physically). And if they did happen to wander into a bad situation (usally as a result of drinking champagne all night in Tribecca with girls named Page) you would NEVER stop hearing about it. I'll never forget a colleague stumbling into work one Friday morning with the same suit he had on the day before plus two black eyes. From then on, you couldn't escape a water cooler conversation about how much he thought all Greek Orthodox should be hung. When I asked him if a Greek Orthodox gave him the black eye he said something to the effect of, "I don't want to be racist, but yes. He was Greek Orthodox." Needless to say, this same guy got married to a 4th generation Queens Italian girl, moved to Astoria, currently has three kids, and runs the foreign exchange for a small private equity firm in Port Jefferson. I call that freakin' justice.

Saturday, November 20, 2004

REX emerges from hibernation and is picked up for a free meal by the Torrance Police Department...


It's been almost three weeks since the elections and only now am I getting some semblance of perspective. After drowning in hotel bars, I finally washed up somewhere in the South Bay this past Wednesday. Where exactly I can't say for sure. The police officers that picked me up were Torrance cops, and were more than willing (honored?) to give me a ride back home. We even stopped off at Norm's for breakfast when they discovered who I was.

Besides that, I don't really know where I was the week following Bush's landslide win. If my limited memory serves me, I do recall roaming 7th avenue after dark in downtown Los Angeles, stumbling over Mexicans smoking weed on the sidewalk outside the Meridian hotel. The promise of economic recovery does not pertain to anything west of the 101 freeway. The hotels share the same fate, serving as hotbeds for transient Amway salesmen, Koreans Tourist, Hookers and crack-heads (many times all four). The hotel kitchen closes early around 10 and I recall not being able to order in a decent meal to save my life. As business officially shuts down at the hotel, other activities emerge. Jet lag Japanese tourist awaken: hopelessly restless caged animals ready to hit the sites. But here there is nowhere to go without a taxi ride through the burning jungle of 7th Avenue. Pimps in fur coats, sporting a cliché of a cliché of a cliché. The revival Latino Baptist church across the way keeps the streets safe on Friday nights till midnight. After that, you are on your own with God and best been saved the day before.

To make matters worse, the LAPD lost the proposition for additional funding. The police chief is so fed up, he's ready to jump ship. But before he leaves, he told me he'd like to stick it to the Republican governor and the president. The chief is willing to let the dominos fall for a higher good. In selected "selected" drinking company the other night he slurred, "If the city burns.. so be it. Burn until the cries of an ignored city are no longer."

If this happens, that lame duck president is in more trouble than Ron Artest at an all white strip joint in Detroit.

Anyway, Ricki Lake is about to come on and I'd like to see how she's doing these days.

How's Paris? Did you catch the culprit that poisoned Arafat?

Over and out as I nurse this hangover from the elections, bet against the Raiders, and wait for a Vioxx equivalent to surface …FAST!

With deep admiration and love,


Friday, November 19, 2004


ZEN makes a come back…

Often synonymous with the upward trend in eastern philosophy, the corporate office is making a linguistic transformation before the eyes of the corporate private sector. As a result, some language is being put out to pasture.

Top ten dwindling in popularity corporate phrases in the office place:

• At the end of the day
• Thinking outside the box
• It's just a soft sell at this phase.
• She's a Lone Ranger. We need a Team Player
• No-brainer
• Subvert the dominant paradigm
• All things being equal
• Robing Peter to pay Paul
• Pro Active Approach
• "I don't care if they're not real, we're going to kidnap her, and take her cross the Mexican border for some good ole' fashion sodomy."

Tuesday, November 09, 2004

in other news......

10 clinically proven techniques for coming to terms with Bush’s Reelection

10. Apple Martini, cigarette, 10 minute Pilates workout. Repeat for one hour.

9. 72 hour Remington Steel marathon on TV Land.

8. Live in complete denial for four years. (done it before. can’t be that hard right?)

7. Low Carb Orange Juice.

6. Trade in “Vote or Die” T-Shirt" for, “Vote and know that you will never make a difference in this country” T-shirt.

5. Drink more Redbull. Eat less olive loaf.

4. Round up Ross Perot, Drop off in front of the White House. Pass go. Collect $200 rom President.

3. Buy more Google Stock.

2. Three week Indian Casino binge.

1. Two words: Booze Cruise.

Thursday, November 04, 2004

After a botched election (not to mention botched business lunch),
Rex hibernates at the hotel bar to contemplate leaving the country...


If Arafat's food poisoning isn't bad enough, I ended up taking a Citibank officer out to lunch today in Torrance hoping to butter him up for a loan so I can buy more google stock.

It was a middle manager slob fest orgy of everything fried smothered in everything sweet (If you save room for desert). In short: disgusting. Long story short: He had the shrimp PO-boy. I didn't. Four hours later I get a call from a paramedic stuck in 405 traffic. My ticket to a new line of credit is in an ambulance, about to die from food poisoning. Though not responsible, I can't help but feel like a culprit (now I have no credit). Do you think Hallmark sells get well cards for food poisoning?

Yesterday was the election and south bay people are still rubbing it in. Now that it’s official, I’m heading to the 24 hr. hotel bar down the street. I expect to come out sometime next week.

Stay safe. Hope Paris is treating you well so far. I’m seriously considering leaving the country. Would like to hear more about your experiences/impressions of Paris so far..

With affection

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