Friday, October 2, 2015
Many of my friends have asked how Ricky’s been doing since he had surgery for a torn ACL in July.
Couldn’t be better. He’s up and running around, and feels no pain. The surgeon did a phenomenal job – even the scar is barely noticeable.
Ricky was super patient throughout the entire recuperation, giving up walks for two months, and letting me put lots of big pills on the back of his tongue without whining once. He’s a great dog with a brand new, $4000 knee. It’s time to get our money’s worth.
Thursday, October 1, 2015
Trust me, I’m an uncle. I’ve been watching my nephew’s soccer games all season. His dad – my brother – is the coach, and attending the games alongside us is Cousin Sal, writer for “Jimmy Kimmel Live,” and Jimmy’s actual cousin.
My brother had talked to Sal about me, which normally gets a little icky for an actor. I’m not looking to hit him up for a role. But it doesn’t matter, since I’ve already been in a sketch on Jimmy’s show that Sal wrote. And I was in his buddy Adam Carolla’s movie. It’s the tiniest of worlds out here.
Anyway, he’s the nicest guy, and it’s good to hang out with him, because the last thing you want to do at a soccer game is watch soccer.
Wednesday, September 30, 2015
I tried to avoid that trap on my recent trip, and as I went through the photo albums on my phone, I found a couple of gems from Brooklyn. First, a guy removing all of the newly-shoplifted goods he’d stuffed into his jeans.
Tuesday, September 29, 2015
No, I wasn’t stoned. Because I’ve never been stoned.
That’s not to say I haven’t been offered. My dorm at Maryland was like living in downtown Kingston. Guys smoked weed from 8 a.m. to 2 a.m. Same with my fraternity brothers. And now pot is so legal in California, you can get a prescription via Skype. (For real.)
It simply never interested me. I like working out, and writing – and I couldn’t function at either endeavor stoned.
My inexperience was on display on Sunday, when I was about to get on stage for a big casting workshop in a scene in which I was supposed to light up. I needed a pipe, So I ran down the street to a shop called Smoke & Gift, and bought the glass one in the pic above. I confirmed with the guy behind the counter that it wasn’t for crack, and he was nice enough not to call me an idiot.
The scene went great, save for inhaling a big hit off the lighter. Which means while I’ve never smoked marijuana, I have now, unfortunately, huffed butane.