The Day The Earth Moved, by Michael Davis
I had a particularly bad day after the San Diego Comic Con was over. I don’t feel like sharing nor do I feel like writing about it. There are times when I don’t trust myself with my Mac and I fear whatever I write at those times would come back to haunt me. It’s like they say, never go shopping for food when you are hungry. I’ve done that and come home with 60 boxes of Twinkies.
I will allow myself to write when I’m mad about some injustice or something stupid, but when I’m sad or remorseful I’d rather just go with something I have in the can. When I first got the ComicMix gig I wrote a bunch of random articles to be used in case I was on vacation, sick or in case I had to deal with something on a personal level that required my time.
So, yesterday there was an earthquake that hit 5.4 on the Richter scale here in Los Angeles. What follows is a now-timely piece I wrote over a year ago when Mike Gold first offered me the ComicMix gig…
Why in the Hell do I live in Los Angeles? I hate it here. I hate the restaurants, I hate the fake people, I hate the what do you do and how much do you make and what car do you drive mentality that seems to resonate in this city. I hate the fact that I joined a gym like a sheep and almost never went. What an idiot I am!
Me, Michael Davis, joining a goddamn gym?? AHHHHHH!! Why the Hell would I join a gym?? I’ll admit it I joined because everyone in L.A. belongs to a gym. I wanted to belong as well.
What the FISH was I thinking? I’m not in shape? Hell yeah I am, ROUND is a shape!
I don’t need a damn gym. If I want exercise I can simply do what any black man does in Los Angeles… run from the police.
When I realized that I was becoming like the very sheep I hated, I quit the gym. In the year I belonged I went MAYBE five times.
Some people think that the weather is what makes people stay in L.A. Let me tell you something: where I live, the temperature hit 116 last summer. It was SO HOT that my dogs don’t want to go outside. They said to me (YES, they actually SPOKE) “Let us use the bathroom inside. We will leave the seat down, we promise… woof.”
Another reason why I should just pack up and move is the stupid cult of celebrity that this stupid city inspires. People lose their mind when it comes to stars. I could give a crap about Brittney, Paris or Tom. Are ANY of these people writing me a check?? Or they writing YOU a check? Would Paris Hilton lose any sleep if YOUR sex tape were on U-tube?
A week ago I told a star to go to the back of a line when he and his date tried to use their clout to jump a movie line. The manager was about to let them in when I said “There’s a line, you know.” The rest of the crowd chimed in and the star decided to leave – but not before he shot me a look that was intended to… you know I have no idea what that look was supposed to convey. No idea, none. Wait, I know what it meant. It meant he was a little punk bitch, that’s what. The manager had the nerve to ask me; “Why did I say anything?” I asked him why should others and I stand in line while this guy is allowed special privileges. He called me a troublemaker; I called him an ass kissing little drip. He then told me he would have me removed from the theater; I went into my wallet and produced the card of my lawyer, gave it to him and said. “Please do.”
I won. Or so I thought. The movie was Open Water. IT SUCKED.
Why DON’T I MOVE??? I’m an idiot!!!
Even if I excuse all of the above I’m still faced with another HUGE reason I should just pack it up and move.
You have not lived until you have felt the EARTH move. To be fair, I have made the Earth move a few times with the ladies. BUT this is different. One moment you could be walking along minding your business then WHAM a tree bitch slaps you into the next block.
I KNOW it’s going to happen again. EVERYBODY knows it’s going to happen, BUT WE STAY! What is wrong with me?? Why don’t I just pack up and LEAVE?
I have no excuse. I sit here like the idiot I am waiting… waiting for my house to fall on my head.
Oh well it could be worse, I could live in Baltimore. Hey, have you seen The Wire?
Media mogul Michael Davis and his best friend Denys Cowan are conspiring up something …