Spanglish

Not much more to say. Writer-director James L Brooks made a movie of such stupendous self-absorption, shallowness, and of interest to so few that it hardly needs discussing. Rich, stupid Californian sitcom characters (like a sassy mother-in-law and a ball-busting clueless mother) discover goodness through the eyes of a hot, saintly Mexican maid. Paz Vegas is really fucking hot. It's a story that will appeal only to wealthy assholes in LA with guilt complexes about their immigrant servants, and who think that deifying them is better than giving them Christmas bonuses. Just Hollywood's idea of charity--the kind that only helps themselves. The characters are too broad and their problems are too fucking foreign to any normal person. The Mexicans are portrayed so politically-correct and simplistically I can't imagine any Mexican wanting to see it. Just dreadful that any fuck in Hollywood could think he's making the world better with this crap on a doily. And the whole damn, disorganized and rambling story is framed as the maid's daughter's girl's corny Princeton application essay. Lame.

All right, that's short, but that's all I got to say about that piece of crap. Really, I need to use this space to announce an exciting new opportunity for all of you. No, it's not Amway this time, although I still have about 200 cases of Nature's Path Organic Crispy Rice Bars if anyone wants them. Those fuckers said that shit would sell itself.

This time I'm selling something far more exciting: me. I saw where the old George Bush, the more competent and honest one, is making hundreds of thousands of dollars giving speeches to rich assholes eating bad catered food at corporate events. Apparently these fat cats will pay money to hobnob with even the most mediocre celebrities. And I figure if I can line up enough of these things, I can be recognized as a mediocre celebrity, too. I'd be more fun than Norman Schwarzkopf, that's for sure. Besides, I need the Goddamn money. So, if you're a corporate planner, looking for wedding entertainment, or want something fun for your youth center stop trying to contact Huey Lewis's manager. I work cheaper and bluer. How about a Bar Mitzvah? Thirteen-year-old boys love me. Listen to all you get when you hire me:

• I will give everyone a night they will always remember.
• I will show up drunk.
• I will remain drunk (alcohol provided by you).
• If I pass out during the event, I still get paid for the entire night.
• I don't really want to talk to people wearing suits at corporate events, so don't ask me to.
• I will not shake hands with anyone, or sign autographs or take pictures.
• I will fistfight with children (I will not fight with adults unless they are in wheelchairs or otherwise almost certain to lose).
• If I do get the shit beat out of me by adults, I get a 20% bonus.
• I will show up within an agreed upon three-hour window or possibly call if I'm going to be really late.
• For food manufacturers, I will eat any free samples you send in advance and then tell you what I think of them.
• I will not drink motor oil again.
• I cannot vomit at will, so don't ask. If I could, you'd be paying twice as much.
• For parole reasons I can no longer bring a pistol and shoot wildly into the air.
• You will provide me with a limousine for transportation. No, just kidding, but just make sure there's good bus service wherever I'm supposed to go.
• I know for a fact that the speakers at these things are given nice hotel rooms, so don't tell me I have to sleep in the conference room kitchen. I know that now, okay? So don't even try it.
• I will no longer appear at the same motivational events with: Deepak Chopra, Dr. Tom Forston of Promise Keepers, Anthony Robbins and Senator Orrin Hatch.
• I will not make balloon animals, but if someone else is making some that would be awesome if I could have a bear and an elephant that fits on my head.
• I will not plan to strip off my clothes and hump the buffet table, but if I do, I get an extra fifty bucks.
• I will not speak into a microphone or make a speech of any kind.
• If you wanted some sort of motivational speaker who fires up your sales crew, you should have thought of that before you hired me because I think salesmen are assholes.
• I will not perform at funerals because they're creepy and what if I fall into the grave. Who is responsible then?
• If there will be people at this event who are easily offended by foul language, introduce them to me and I can make them cry. Trust me, this is fun for everyone.
• I will comport myself as a gentlemen at all times. 

So far, I've gotten a job doing a grand opening of a new Safeway. I'm gonna stand near the tangerines and yell slurs at passersby. And I'm doing magic at the Englewood Senior Center's "Vaudeville Night". I'd like to do some beach volleyball events, and anything for big corporations with more money than brains. Everything I said I will not do on the above list is negotiable. Except the vomiting. I'd like to do speeches for Rotary Clubs and Optimists groups, too, but not breakfast meetings. And if you own a major casino and want me to hang around the front door asking for handouts and blowing my snot into the ashtrays, give me a call. I think that'd bring in a lot of new business. Finally, you know, if you're having a fancy dinner and you just need a warm body to sit at the end of the table across from someone's fat, unpleasant sister, give me a call. I work as cheap as twenty bucks.

Oh yeah, and One Finger for Spanglish.