I'm in the Pretty Union

Riley: I think I'm going to audition for Aladdin the musical at Disneyland!

Sam Kraus: Ok...one question. Exactly what part would you play in "Aladdin: Arabian Nights" ?

Riley: .............................................. the monkey?



It's because of friends like Sam that my fantastical and grand celebrity lifestyle remains grounded and modest. No Lohan am I.....I'm just being Miley.

My partner in crime, Becca Euliss, and I have begun writing a play inspired by our life here thus far. See what you think of it. Comments and criticism are welcomed and can be expected to be disregarded immediately because it isn't like you're getting off your lazy ass and WRITING A PLAY.

Scene 1:

Lights up on Becca and Riley, sitting next to each other on a love seat staring blankly at the television. The blue light illuminates both of their faces.

Pause.

Riley: I can't watch this anymore, it's stressing me out.

Becca: Wait, the tv show, or your life?

Cable goes out. The stage is black except for the static color shit illuminating becca and riley.

Becca and Riley: (sideways glances at each other)

Becca: So...i'm assuming you didn't pay the cable bill this month?

Riley: (staring blankly at the screen) ...no...

Becca: ....Now what?

Riley: Sam wake up

Sam: Noooooooooo

Riley: Get up bitch, the cables out.

Sam: I just had the funniest dream. I was sitting next to a black woman and a dog that looked like a human. And every time it would laugh it would roll onto its back and go haahahaahahaha and roll back up.

Riley:....What?

Sam: (laughing) it would roll on its back and go hahahahaaaaa and then roll back up. It was so funny.

Riley: Perfect.

Lights Out.

Scene 2:

Lights up on Becca and Riley sitting on a bench, outside, the sound of traffic driving by in the background.

Riley: huh...I thought it was cloudy outside.

Becca: Nope, not even a little bit.

Riley: Weird.

Becca: Check it out..those two little kids are playing tether-ball.

Riley: where?

Becca: Right over there.

Riley: Ohhhhoho sweet. Maybe they'll let us play.

Becca: Yeah right before they register you as a sex offender.

Riley: You mean again?

Becca: shut up. You want to make a bet?

Riley: I mean, sure. You want the chola or the fat little asian?

Becca: You know I don't like sushi.

Riley: annnnnd she kicks it up a notch.

Becca: Just keeping you on your toes.

Riley: I'll keep you on mah dick.

Becca: fuck off, they're starting.

Riley: Maybe we should get some beer?

Becca: I'm sorry, did you find the money you've been hiding up your ass?

Riley: Yes, actually, right next to that perfume you wear.

Becca: What?

Riley: You smell like shit.

Becca: I hate you

(to be continued)

Bow Wow Wowwwwww

The sentence, "I mean, I haven't had sex in forever...I'd date a dog if it humped me," just left my mouth.

I can't find a job to save my life. And I say that for both the "old timey saying" feeling as well as the complete and utter truth in every part of that sentence. I ate bread and stolen alouette cheese for dinner last night.

I'm going to a job fair at Urban Outfitters on the Wednesday of next week. You might know, all 5 of you who potentially read this, that I have written a blog commenting on the complete pompousness and uselessness of the typical Urban Outfitter employee, and I now hope to join their ranks. I actually will beg to if it comes down to it. And let's be honest, I'll probably get on my knees and beg whether it's necessary or not. Call me a hypocrite if you want...it has a certain ring to it. But if a good outfit that compliments the outwardly shallow and material part of yourself isn't worth compromising your morals, then really, what is? Do share.

I have attended two auditions this week to no avail I believe, and I blame it on the fact that they both took place inside churches. God likes to play little tricks on me where he sees in how many ways he can inconvenience my life in completely non life threatening and harmlessly frustrating ways...and these two times he had the home court advantage. Much like the LAKERS, who are a BASKETBALL TEAM, that I WATCHED win a COMPETITION...of sorts...I believe. I'm now a "dude's dude," if you will.

Examples of the aforementioned fun of God include one Riley McIlveen getting his hand stuck between his car seat and the middle panel, alone, while lost, while in a running car, at a stop sign in the middle of Little Mexico, Los Angeles., while the car is still in drive.

Just me and my Gypsy Band. What about it?

I just moved in! I carried about ten pieces of luggage, 3 of which were full of books, up 3 flights of stairs and down the hall into my house, ALONE, and finally realized I had an elevator, once I was done of course.

Fuck. me.

Raymond, Samantha and myself are living like gypsies, eating avocado and cream cheese sandwiches on the floor since we have no furniture, just good intentions. And soon gangsta g Becca will be joining the love huddle. Come one, come all. Bring a pillow and blanket and our barren shelter can be yours too. No cats please. Though, the one next door keeps curiously peeking its head in my door. Just give me a reason cat...give me a reason.

Fun events scheduled:

Watching the two Asian boys and one little Hispanic girl play tether ball across the street. This was what Samantha and I did first last night...because we obviously want our first impression to be that of a child molester and/or pedophile. That little girl kicked some Asian ass though, and screamed like Serena at the US open. It was heated.

Also, Ray and I just purchased a fridge from an ad on craigslist, and when we inquired as to why it was being sold the response was "We just... sell appliances." I thought this was the perfect time to crack a joke about the fridge "falling off the back off a truck" in HUGE air quotes, to which Ray said to me, "Welcome to California."

THIS BE MAH HOME.

Catching Ya Up

Alright! I have just returned from my week in”La-La Land” and I am SO STOKED to be moving there. No joke, it was the most stressful and fun weekend of my summer thus far. Found an apartment, a charming lil two bedroom in North Hollywood that was the most affordable residence that wouldn't require me to join a gang or take up business selling crystal meth and gummi bears. I imagine they go well together. Actually, my friends Jaime and Becca helped me look for an apartment one hot, traffic jammed day, and as we went into an “out-of-the-price-range-but-fun-to-look-at” building, this conversation ensued between Jaime and the landlord of the building. Not quite verbatim but as close to it as I'm going to get while sitting in this Barnes and Noble listening to a 4 year old recite the ABC's behind me.

Jaime: How much is it to rent an apartment here?

Landlord (Now referred to as Julio): 1600.

Jaime: That's a little out of our price range. (while gesturing back to both mine and, incidentally, Becca's general direction) The apartment is actually for my two friends. We're looking for something between 1200 and 1350, do you work for any buildings in that price range.

Julio: (awkward silence as he looks Becca and I up and down)
Becca and Riley: (simultaneous sideways glances at each other)

Julio: There are apartments that inexpensive...but I can tell what you two would like...and they would not suit your...quality.

Becca and Riley: (now awkward sideways glances at each other)

Jaime: Right...but what they can afford is what they can afford.

Julio: Trust me...these places aren't for people of your...quality.

Becca and Riley:...................ok.................thank you?

So obviously he meant “pretty and popular” when he kept repeating the word “quality.” I mean wtf...it may not appear so but I imagine myself, but especially one Becca Euliss, doing perfectly fine in a gang fight and/or a drug dealer turf war. My quality is Bro-fessionality. Suck it Julio.



See what I mean? Hardcore.


Now, in other news. I got myself a spot in an acting class I am looking forward to and I'll tell you why. I had to audition to get in, and whilst I was performing two monologues that required a certain state of preparation and emotional connection, all I could think about in my head was “God...it's been so long since I've masturbated.”

Needless to say I wasn't very connected. So, I knew that if I was a revelation to this acting teacher than I might need to search for somewhere else. After I finished, however, and her response was a sort of blank stare and a lackluster “well...ok...good.” I knew she was the real deal. She gave me some critiques, worked with my pieces, and accepted me into the class. I'm very much looking forward to it. She seemed like a cool chick that knew her shit. Plus I'd be the youngest person in the class. I'd be like...the baby. That shit's crazy! It's a constant reminder that I'm back at the bottom after jumping off the top rung of the undergrad ladder. But guess what LA...Riley McIlveen GETS IT DONE! I'm packing my bags, putting on my combat boots, and getting ready to kick some ass.

GET AT ME!

I think this is cool

I just think this guy is so cool. And it isn't solely because of his creative poetry, it's because he wants other people to try it out for themselves and make their own poetry. I can't stand artists who personally “copyright” ideas and then bitch about other people copying them, or people who discover a band and then make sure that everyone knows they were the first person ever to listen to them and they are just SOOOO indie and artistic because of this discovery. Grow up. Share the love.

I think this kind of thing would be the perfect start to a day. Morning coffee and some newspaper poetry. It seems like making all the shitty things going on in the world into something beautiful. A constant reminder of why the arts are important.

http://www.newspaperblackout.com/ ( <---- His website )