Hi Killoggs.

Ben and I got a good review for the book we did together.

"Accompanying Wheaton's book are illustrations by Ben Claassen III. Like Wheaton's tales, each illustration is a story unto itself that serve well in accompanying the stories. If I could visualize what Wheaton is thinking along the way, these illustrations would be among those thoughts."

I live in the middle of a bunch of Fucking Rich Assholes.

I hate it. I hate it so much, it makes me want to scream. I have more in common with my neighbor's housekeepers than I do with them. Anne and I are 33 and 30. Most of our neighbors are in their 50s. Her kids play with kids whose parents are the same age as MY parents.

I fucking hate these people. Not because they're old, not because they're rich, but because they are Fucking Rich Assholes. You know the type: they look down on everyone as they drive off to tennis at the club in their matching Lexuses (Lexii?)

So.

Tonight, Anne and I had to go to a screening for "Neverland," which we both worked on. We didn't think we'd be back until 10, and arrainged for the boys to go to a sitter. The boys aren't crazy about this sitter, because her house is small, and there isn't much to do there. They also complain that it smells funny.

I have been pushing for a hot teenage babysitter for several years, but it hasn't happened, so they were set to go to the smelly house for the evening.

Anne and I were planning on leaving at 6. Around 4:30, Ryan started bitching about going to the sitter. (He's 13, so he has two modes: bitch and sulk.) He asked to go to a friend's house instead. We told him that wasn't a good idea, because we'd be out late, and it's a school night. Ryan wouldn't take no for an answer, and went to work on Anne. Nolan walked in, and double-teamed her untl she gave in.

Nolan called one of his friends, the son of one of these Fucking Rich Assholes, and asked if they could spend the evening there. Anne spoke with Mr. Fucking Rich Asshole, and told him that we would be in Culver City, and wouldn't be back until sometime between 9:30 and 10, closer to 10. He agreed, and we dropped the kids there.

I was against it. I don't know these people at all. The few times I've dropped Nolan off there to play, Mr. Rich Fucking Asshole has sneered down his nose at me, and Mrs. Rich Fucking Asshole has spoken to me like I'm one of her teenage children. We don't know them well enough to impose like this, but the kids had done a very effective job of playing on mom's emotions while she was racing to get ready. I was racing to make dinner, so by the time I found out what was happening, it was too late.

We dropped the kids at 6:30, and went to the screening.

The movie is amazing! It's better than I'd ever hoped, and I spent a long time after talking to distributors, executives and other industry types. We didn't leave until 11:50.

I called Mr. Rich Fucking Asshole. I apoligized, and told him that I'd gotten caught up at the screening, and we were racing back as fast as we could. He asked me how late we'd be, and I told him that we were most likely looking at 30 minutes. We'd be picking up the kids as quickly as possible, but but it was likely that we'd be there at 10:30.

He sarcastically said, "Wow." And hung up the phone!

So I turned to Anne, and asked her if they understood that we may run late. Apparently, they did not.

I felt terrible. These people are Rich Fucking Assholes, but I felt like they agreed to one thing, and something different happened. I urged Anne to drive like a maniac to get us home in time.

She did, and we made great time -- for two miles, when we got caught in the traffic from Staples Center letting out.

My stomach turned itself into knots, and I cursed a lot. We finally pulled into their driveway at 10:28.

We ran up the walk, and knocked on the door.

Mrs. Rich Fucking Asshole opened it, Mr. Rich Fucking Asshole standing right behind her. Her arms folded across her chest, her righteously indignant look fixed firmly upon her face, she glared at me while I apologized.

"I'm very sorry that we're so late. This was an Industry screening of a film we both worked on, and I had to --"

"You are very rude. I have to say that right away." She declared. Mr. Rich Fucking Asshole stood behind her, and smirked at us.

"I thought that you two knew that we were at an Industry screening, and that we may run a bit late --"

She cut me off again. "Then you should have left. We didn't know if you were dead, and we were responsible for your children." Her voice rose, and her nostrils flared. "You called us at 10! 30 minutes late!" She was nearly yelling at me now. "NINE THIRTY MEANS NINE THIRTY! "

When she stopped to breathe in, I gently said, "I completely understand that you're upset. I guess all I can do now is apologize. I feel terrible that this happened. When Nolan called your son --"

"It is not the children's responsibility to set these things up." She declared. Mr. Rich Fucking Asshole continued to stand behind her and smirk at me. He adjusted his glases and exhaled. She went on,"you should have spoken to us directly! This is the rudest --"

Now it was my turn to cut her off. I remained calm, and said, "Nolan called your house because he didn't want to go to the sitter. Anne and I were both running around our house, trying to get them ready to leave --"

"That doesn't change the fact that you didn't speak to us directly!" She interrupted, again.

Anne cleared her throat, and said, "I did speak with your husband. I told him that we were going to this screening, and we wouldn't be back until 9:30, or 10. I told him that it would be closer to 10."

At this point, Mr. Rich Fucking Asshole, who had silently smirked at us while Mrs. Rich Fucking Asshole tore into us like we were teenagers who'd stayed out past curfew, finally spoke up.

"She did speak with me," he said. He was very proud of himself.

And I hoped that he was, the rich fucking asshole. He stood there, and allowed his hysterical asshole wife to tear into us, without ever telling her that he KNEW we may not be back until 10.

Before she could speak again, I decided that I'd had enough. I had offered my apology, and taken responsibilty for fucking up. When I realized that she wasn't interested in an apology, but just wanted to put us in our place, I said, "Mrs. [Rich Fucking Asshole], I don't know what else to tell you. I'm am very sorry that this happened. I can't change it, but it won't happen again. I don't know what else to tell you."

I could tell that this took her by surprise. She hadn't prepared for me to be genuinely contrite. So she just said, "Well, then I guess we're done."

And closed the door in our faces.

We walked down the driveway, and went home.

See, I really did feel badly. I still do. I understand that they felt taken advantage of, and that they were upset by that. However, I apologized, and if she'd stopped interrupting me, I could have better explained the situation. I spoke about it with Anne when we got home, and we reached a few conclusions:

1. The phone works both ways. They had our cell numbers. If they were so concerned that we were dead, they could have called us, right?

2. She didn't want an apology. She wasn't interested in it. She treated us the way Rich Fucking Assholes treat waiters, house keepers, and others who they think are beneath them. I think it took her completely by surprise that I apologized, and tried to clarify what had happened, rather than cowering.

I can't wait to move out of this bullshit fucking place, and live near normal people again.

I live in a very quiet, very conservative, very surburban area.

I have a dog, participate in a carpool to get the kids to school, and a lawn.

It is a constant struggle for me to not feel domesticated.

However, there are things I can do to keep the old spirit alive.

I listen to Ministry when I drive the kids to school, wear my "STFU" shirt when walking the dog, and always stick a Libertarian and a Green party sign in my lawn around election time.

And I mow my lawn like a baseball diamond.

My damn dog won't stop eating trash.

Now she stinks. Bad.

Hi Killoggs.

I saw this thing today, and it made me laugh.

It looks like Ben coulda drawn it.

Ben, you need to make some cool movies like this one.

My whole life, I've been an actor.

As long as I can remember, I've been acting, even though I started when I was 7.

Isn't that weird? I have hardly any memories from before, and the ones that I do have are not good ones.

Until recently, when I wasn't working as an actor, I felt like a complete loser. I felt like a failure, and would easily become depressed, and defeatist. Always coming in second place in a winner takes all poker game sucks, you know?

The thing about is, I had all this success as a child, and I've always felt like I needed to get out of the shadow of my childhood success, you know? If I could just create my own light, now, it would make the shadow fall the other way, and I could be happy. Since I hadn't equaled, or exceeded the success of Stand By Me (mostly) or TNG (not as much), I felt like my life was wasted, and I was only 27.

I figured out, when I was 28, I guess, that this was not the way to live. I couldn't let myself be defined by past successes or current (perceived) failures. I needed to find something about myself that I do well, that makes me happy and fulfills me.

So I started taking improv training, which led to sketch comedy training, which led to me feeling confident enough in making people laugh, which led me to writing more and more stuff, which led to me making a stupid website, which led me here.

One of the hidden benefits of the comedy training, was meeting a guy who has become one of my best friends, Travis. Travis and I are really kindred spirits. We were both child stars, we both have experienced the insane highs and horrible lows of celebrity, and we're both total computer gaming geeks.

Back in November, things looked really bleak for me and my family. I hadn't worked in any real capacity for quite some time, and our money was running out. My pride prevented me from switching careers from actor to professional autograph show guy, so we were looking at selling our house, along with just about everything that we didn't really need.

Then Travis told me about this company, G4. It was a new TV network, all about video and computer games; the people who make them, and the people who play them.

One of the shows was looking for a host/writer, and it seemed right up my alley. So I asked him to get me an interview, which he did.

Fast forward a few months, and I am very happily employed as a writer/host at G4, paying off all my bills, and loving the people I'm working with. I've been told that the feeling at G4 is like the feeling they had in the early days of MTV (before it was eMpTyVee, I guess).

That's a ton of history, which gets me to the purpose of this post: Tonight, I stayed late at work, to play Day of Defeat on the LAN with the guys who are on my show. There were about 8 of us, and we played 4 on 4 games for 2 hours.

It was awesome. The fun we had, talking trash, working as a team, and just hanging out...it was very different from working on a movie. When you work on a movie, you're so fucking burned out at the end of the day, you just want to go home. The idea of sticking around someplace to hang out is laughable.

The last couple of years have been really hard for me and my wife. Work hasn't been what we'd like it to be, and we've had lots of stress from her ex-husband, who seems to delight in making our lives a living hell, but things are getting much, much better, and sitting at my computer tonight, chasing Shamu though the apartments of this DoD map, to even up the score, and cheering along my producer when we finally won a game, gave me pause to stop for a second, and think about how good things have gotten, and how they're only going to get better.

This is a far, far cry from the crippling depression I felt about 3 years ago. Yes, that type of depression.

It's weird to me...if I hadn't been so down 2 years ago, I wouldn't have gone to ComicCon, and I wouldn't have met Ben...and I wouldn't have gone back, and seen Ben and Loren and Angele...and none of this would ever have happened.

Really makes me think about that saying, "Things happen for a reason."

You know what I love?

When I come to Killoggs, and I look at "Who's on now" and I feel like I'm finally sitting with the cool kids.

If I only knew how to take screenshots and crop them.

Way back in October, my front porch light stopped working.

I thought it had just burned out, so I climbed up on a step ladder, and I replaced the bulb. Problem was, the new bulb didn't light, so Anne and I thought, "Oh, great. Now we're going to have to pay an electrician hundreds of dollars to fix this," and we haven't had a front porch light since.

A couple of weeks ago, one of the light fixtures in my kitchen started flickering and sputtering whenever I'd turn it on. It did this for weeks, and it finally stopped turning on, at all, about 3 weeks ago. Around this time, we noticed that we had rats in our crawlspace (we don't have attics here in Los Angeles), and we both assumed that they had been chewing on the wiring.

We called an electrician about the problem, and he said he'd come out and look at it, but he never showed up. I called him three times, and he never called me back, so, last night, we called my wife's brother, who is really handy, and asked him what to do. This morning, we took down the fixture in the kitchen, and found that the wiring problem was not in the walls, but was in the fixture, itself. All we have to do is get a "wire net" for a few bucks at Home Depot, and re-hang the fixture. Total savings to us, for not having an electrician come out and tell us this? Well over $200.

Emboldened by our success in the kitchen, we went to the porch, to see if we could puzzle that one out...I took a new light bulb out there, and screwed it in...and it lit up. Turns out that the bulb I used in October was already burned out.

That's right. We could have had a front porch light all these months, but I wasn't able to discern the difference between a burned out bulb, and a working bulb.

The moral of the story? When you think it's the wiring, the problem may just be the bulb.

I'm Wil, and that's one to grow on.

Hi Killoggs.

I know it's been awhile since we've spoken, but I was going through some stuff, having a hard time...it wasn't you, it was me.

See, the thing is, I can change.

Really! I can. I swear. I was just hanging out with other websites because I wanted to make you jealous. They meant nothing to me. I swear!

Can we still be friends?

I'm baking Xmas cookies and these cool clay magnet things with my kids. I hope I don't confuse them, when I stumble drunkenly into the kitchen in the middle of the night, looking for a snack.

Dear Santa,

What I want for Xmas this year, more than anything else, is for you to please take all the Republicans, and force them to live in a tree. But I want that tree to be filled with man-eating bees. It'd be better if you can make them man-eating, gay bees, because that'd be ironic and irony is usually lost on the Republicans.

But it'd sure be funny to me, and since I've been good all year, I don't think it's all that much to ask for.

Remember when you brought me the "US1 Rescue Fire Alert!" race car track in 4th grade? Remember how excited I was? I'd be that happy, again.

If you can't do that, it's okay. I've prepared a back-up Xmas request. (I work on computers a lot these days, so I know lots about backing things up. Especially stupid Greymatter weblog entries).

My backup request is for one million dollars, and huge pectoral muscles.

Thank you, Santa.

-Wil

Wil Wheaton, actor, dead at 28 (Score:-1, Offtopic)
by Anonymous Coward on Tue 20 Nov 08:53AM (#2589874)

I just heard on the radio that Richard William Wheaton III (Wil Wheaton's full name) was found dead today at his home in LA. We will all remember his wonderful performances as Wesley Crusher on Star Trek:TNG and Gordie Lachance on Stand By Me. Wil has contributed much to society, and I'm sure he will be greatly missed by the readers of Slashdot.

"life is an n-dimensional probability/volition unbounded space, and all paths lead only to the end. what you choose in life is unimportant, that you choose is. all sentient beings have the potential to be created fully ordered functions in reality, but this requires a large magnitude of variance in volition. those who fear change are ultimately limited, and become doomed to being interference in the higher waveforms."

-drow

All I wanted to do was play my little radio show...

empendium: got any c0dez?
RadioFreeBurrito: yeah. they're all at goatse.cx
empendium: wow, elite c0dez
RadioFreeBurrito: the 3!33+#5+
empendium: sometimes they are
RadioFreeBurrito: they'll tear the ass outta any system
empendium: you down with PLT infection?
empendium: plt warez = wave of the future
RadioFreeBurrito: plt pr0n = wave of the future, dood
empendium: 4 sure
empendium: and jesus getting nailed in the d00d00 hole by mickey mouse
empendium: U HIJACK MY EXECVE PLT 4 WAREZ NOTHING GOES IN BUT ALL COMES OUT
empendium: your warez are nothing, bow b4 the darkside
RadioFreeBurrito: I fear not the darkside
RadioFreeBurrito: KNEEL BEFORE ZOD!
empendium: I AM ZUL! R U THE GATEKEEPER?
RadioFreeBurrito: Are you a god?
empendium: yes
empendium: always answer yes
RadioFreeBurrito: oh. well, then I guess I'll be going.
empendium: sometimes that is the answer, but only when you realize who you can trust
empendium: and there's only two people you can trust in this world
empendium: ozzy osborne and satan himself

I stole this from /.

It made me laugh out loud.

AFGHAN TV GUIDE

MONDAYS:

8:00 -"Husseinfeld"
8:30 - "Mad About Everything"
9:00 - "Suddenly Sanctions"
9:30 - "The Brian Benben Bin Laden Show"

TUESDAYS:

8:00 - "Wheel of Terror and Fortune"
8:30 - "The Stench is Right"
9:00 - "Children Are Forbidden From Saying The DarndestThings"
9:30 - "Afganistans Wackiest Public Execution Bloopers"
10:00 - "Buffy The Yankee Imperialist Dog Slayer"

WEDNESDAYS:

8:00 - "U.S. Military Secrets Revealed"
8:30 - "When Northern Alliance Attack"
9:00 - "Two Guys, a Girl, and a Pita Bread"
9:30 - "Just Shoot Everyone"
10:00 - "Veilwatch"

THURSDAYS:

8:00 - "Matimallahoasillalama Loves Chachi"
8:30 - "CBS Evening News with Dan Rather"
9:00 - "Veronicas Closet Full of Long, Black, Shapeless Dresses and
Veils"
9:30 - "My Two Baghdads"
10:00 - "Diagnosis: Heresy"

FRIDAYS:

8:00 - "Bob Patterson (Must Have His Hand Cut Off)"
8:30 - "M*U*S*T*A*S*H"
9:00 - "Everybody Loves Anthrax"
9:30 - "Achmeds Creek"
10:00 -"No-witness News"

Note to self: don't quit show before they make you into a mask.

My collective assimilated an entire planet, and all I got was this lousy T-shirt.

This may be a troll, but somehow, I think it isn't. It was posted on my site tonight.

my sister susana achel, was a very big fan of you WIL. she was 31 years old. my name is maddison achel im 26 years old, and i would just like to say to WIL, susana kept with her an autograph picture of you, on her dresser. she use to tell us everything about you, when we were growin-up. my sister SUSANA was on the 100th floor of the WTC when it was hit. she once mentioned this site to me, not long ago. i came here today just to let you know of my sister, and how you touched her life. right now, we're all hurting. but life does go on. and though we'll never forget, we will pull through. regardless of our political views, we as human-beings must support one another, and i know we will. once again, this is in memory of SUSANA MARIE ACHEL. my big sister forever!

Posted by MADDISON @ 09/22/2001 11:51 PM PST

I suddenly feel very, very strange.

From The Baton Rouge Advocate: U.S. Rep. John Cooksey, R-Monroe, told a network of Louisiana radio stations Monday that someone 'wearing a diaper on his head' should expect to be interrogated in the investigation of terrorist attacks on the Pentagon and New York City.

Here's the full quote: "If I see someone (who) comes in that's got a diaper on his head and a fan belt wrapped around the diaper on his head, that guy needs to be pulled over."

I'd write an autobiography, but it'd be mostly filler.

I heard this today.

Strangely enough, it's from an album called "Armed Forces":

As I walk through
This wicked world
Searchin' for light in the darkness of insanity.
I ask myself
Is all hope lost?
Is there only pain and hatred, and misery?

And each time I feel like this inside,
There's one thing I wanna know:
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding? Ohhhh
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?

And as I walked on
Through troubled times
My spirit gets so downhearted sometimes
So where are the strong
And who are the trusted?
And where is the harmony?
Sweet harmony.

'Cause each time I feel it slippin' away, just makes me wanna cry.
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding? Ohhhh
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?


So where are the strong?
And who are the trusted?
And where is the harmony?
Sweet harmony.

'Cause each time I feel it slippin' away, just makes me wanna cry.
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding? Ohhhh
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding? Ohhhh
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?

I've heard this song a thousand times, because I love Elvis Costello.
It just sounds different now.

Big Fat Gremlin: hey dude, I saw you on circus of the stars years ago

TVs Wil Wheaton: not me

TVs Wil Wheaton: i never did circus of the stars

TVs Wil Wheaton: it was Battle of the Network stars

TVs Wil Wheaton: i was on OJs team

Big Fat Gremlin: no i thought i saw you do some tightrope act...

Big Fat Gremlin: i guess you would know better than me, tho

Big Fat Gremlin: Battle of the Network stars? was it football or something?

TVs Wil Wheaton: no...it was a relay

TVs Wil Wheaton: me and oj and bruce jenner against the cast of charles in charge

Big Fat Gremlin: was "buddy" racing?

TVs Wil Wheaton: yeah

Big Fat Gremlin: whoa...rock on dude!

Tomorrow, I'm going to Vega$ for a huge ass Star Trek convention, where I'm going to perform sketch comedy for about 500 Trekkies.

Does anybody else think that Vegas is kind of like a whore? I mean, sure, she looks nice when she's all made up, and she'll do whatever you want, as long as you have enough money...but, ultimately, it's just sad.