So... today at lunch I came up with a video game that I think would sell in droves.

BRADY BUNCH: BOUNTY HUNTER

In the game you can play as one of the six Brady siblings as you move through 22 huge interactive worlds, hunting down and eliminating members of other TV families throughout. Each level features a different TV family.

LEVEL 1) The Partridges... Special points for killing Danny or Reuben Kincaid

LEVEL 2) The Nelsons... Special points for killing Ricky as he sings...

LEVEL 3) The Cleavers... Special points for managing to kill Eddie Haskell... with a cleaver

LEVEL 4) The Crew of the Enterprise... Special Points for convincing Spock in a logical fashion to help you eliminate his crewmates

LEVEL 5) Evil Doppleganger Brady Level... Each Brady has an evil doppleganger of themselves, you must eliminate them...

The dopplegangers are:

Greg - Orange haired Greg from Hair Tonic Episode, SPECIAL NOTE: kill him last to unlock Johnny Bravo Greg
Marsha - Broken Nose Marsha from the Broken Nose Episode
Peter - Classy Fake English Peter from the I Have No Personality Episode
Jan - Randomly generated, either Big Afro Wig Jan, Blind Jan w/no glasses on Bicycle, or Squeezing Lemons on Freckles Jan from any Marsha Marsha Marsha Episode
Bobby - Jesse James Bobby from the Jesse James is My Hero Episode, SPECIAL NOTE: kill him in the saloon to unlock a new character! Now you can play as Cousin Oliver!
Cindy - Shirley Temple Cindy from The Next Shirley Temple Episode.
SPECIAL NOTE Other playable characters that can be unlocked on this level are Alice, and Sam the Butcher. If you find the secret Bust of Mike Brady's Head while playing as Peter Brady his voice will begin to crack and he and all the Bradys will sing the WHEN IT'S TIME TO CHANGE song. Though beware! If you fail to kill a Jan Permutation on the first try it WILL unleash the scourge that is the SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARVES Bradys on you.

LEVEL 6) The Keatons - Special Points for Killing Mallory's REAL LIFE brother Jason... NOTE: he's just behind Alex at the Republican Cafe

LEVEL 7) The FULL HOUSE People... EXTREMELY IMPORTANT NOTE: You MUST kill the Olsen Twins at the SAME time, if not they will plague you throughout the rest of the game.

LEVEL 8) The Osbournes... Difficult level, and the final one... Ozzy extremely difficult to dispatch, whenever he gets weak you must make sure to intercept Sharon BEFORE she can re-fuel him. HINT: Throwing the bat at his mouth might distract him.

Maybe later I will come up with an expansion module.

Random thought: You know I'm really shocked, considering the popularity of the James Bond movies, that I have never run into a really big Korean guy named Oddjob.

Great origin story for a new comic book. Or even a movie franchise? Warner Brothers are you paying Attention?

Lawrence was upset… His plans in life had gone awry and his current situation gave him no solace. He had tried; he had REALLY tried this time. All to no avail… Lawrence decided to become an Über Villain.

He spent hours designing his new costume. He spent days adding the sequins to the black Speedo and leather codpiece that would now embody the fear of Vanity City. Let them call him “fatty fat fat” now. He would show them his entire beefy frame in his new de rigueur ensemble. He would show them that nothing in life is so bad that it can’t be made worse by a four-hundred pound sweaty half-naked fat guy chasing you, with undisclosed intentions. And, he WOULD chase them, he would chase them all… he would find them at their weakest moments and begin his pursuit, and all the while he would chant the words “ Jell-O, Jell-O, Jell-O”. Let them guess what it meant. No one would be safe… the guy who just got a parking ticket, the lady in the grocery store parking lot whose bag has just ripped sending her purchases rolling under the assorted Buicks of her co-shoppers, the old lady who just missed her bus… they would all realize how trivial these problems were, they would all be instructed on the true meaning of frustration and anger. They would all pay…

When he was ready, Lawrence donned his outfit and stared at his grossly obese and hairy body in the mirror. He then added some platform shoes and black fishnet stockings, and topped the whole thing off with a pair of Buddy Holley style glasses, a surgical mask, and a paper children’s party hat. He was ready…

Now the world would know his anguish, now the world would know his pain, now the large-breasted girl in 5 D would pay him some attention.

If only he could find his car keys…

Just got another e-mail from the friend, who explained further his reticence to participate. He is going through a myriad of problems right now, and does not feel like participating in ANYTHING. As he put it, "I'm in I don't give a shit mode."

Pissy mood lifted. Friend forgiven, and his prize-eligibility reinstated.

No fruit to speak of...

I'm in kind of a pissy mood right now. Got what I consider to be a nasty e-mail from a friend about of all things... the blog. He doesn't wish to participate, which is fine, but considering he's a writer it just seems that he would support another writer's flexing of the literary muscle. But noooooooooo... he is too good for us here at Raised on Ritalin. (I say us, but I think this community consists mostly of me and whatever manifestation of multiple personality disorder I am suffering from) Oh well, I will write to amuse myself.

An innocent banana suffered greatly for the loss of the apple today.

A poem... and cautionary tale... for the kids.

Mary had a little lamb...

Whose fleece was white as snow...

And everywhere that Mary went...

The lamb was sure to go...

It followed her to school one day...

It was against the rules...

So... they kicked Mary out for being a "subversive" and she wound up her life working as a prostitute in a German red-light district due to her lack of education.

The offending lamb was taken into custody and eaten... after a short trial.

The above story is TRUE, the names have been changed to protect the innocent...

Mary's not too hard to find though.

Ask for Ulga.

Bring Cash...

The apple has been nibbled by vermin...

It vexes me no longer.

Well, day two of this experiment is now here. The results have been most satisfying. There is something positively exhilarating about communicating in this way...

I dea for a movie:

A man discovers that he is in fact the heir to a long line of Superclowns from Outer Space, whose powers have been protecting mankind for thousands of years. The only way for them to hide their true identities is through their work in travelling circuses. The man and his Monkey Sidekick thus embark on a circus journey that takes them through the Heartland of America. They meet up with Isabelle, a Flamenco dancer/Kung Fu Vixen, in Iowa, where to their collective chagrin they encounter Bill Smith: Master of Fourteen Disguises and Ten Voices. Smith has an insidious plan to enslave humanity with a special ray that he has not yet constructed but is currently seeking contract bids on. Upon learning of the existence of our heroes, Smith (disguised as an Eskimo) escapes to Gary Indiana where he makes a deal with a guy named Monty (subtle, pop-culture/Gen X references allowed, all others strictly forbidden) who builds his enslavement ray for $22.37. Superclown, Monkey SideKick, and Isabelle catch up with Bill Smith: Master of Fourteen Disguises and Ten Voices in Eerie Pennsylvania, where a battle for humanity takes place in a rowboat. The good guys triumph and Bill Smith: Master of Fourteen Disguises and Ten Voices is vanquished, and is then forced to work for his vanquishers (????) in the Justice Circus League. (or JCL)

I like the idea behind this film. The juxtaposition of the clown and the monkey should make for an interesting visual feast... plus, the scene where the 300 pound Fat Lady trips on some stairs and crushes the Midget Strongman to death, evokes a subtle irony and haunting beauty that is not unlike some of the earlier works of Hans Glickelmann, the German ultra-low-budget pornography director, whose Disney parody LILO & MITCH caused such controversy last year at Sundance.

The orange exacted its revenge on me at 2 AM... it sleeps with the fishes now. Since I live in L.A. this is actually the truth.

Note to self: Never ever eat fish.

The apple walks the last mile...

The story thus far...

The orange is still mine. All is well. Soon the apple will pay the price of its insolence...

The hour grows late, and soon I will leave this cubicle for greener pastures. I worry that my blog has become nothing more than a journal of my war against fruit. I will not let this happen. There will be thoughts and musings such as you have never seen. There will be the stuff of art, of high minded escapades, with crudity thrown in for good measure. The blog will stand the test, I have faith, my thoughts and the blog will be one. I believe...

But the apple in the kitchen vexes me...

I am at work, thus this song...

"Show me the way to go home,
I'm tired and wanna go to bed,
I had a little drink about an hour ago,
And it went right to my head.
No matter where I roam,
O'r land or sea or foam,
You'll always hear me singin' this song,
Show me the way to go home."

Farewell and adieu to you fair Spanish ladies...

I have finished eating the orange...

it is no more.

Though it is STILL mine.

Until... well, you know what will become of the orange.

I am eating an orange.

It is my orange.

It is the one TRUE orange.

I will protect the orange to the death.

I will not protect the seeds.

It will be my orange.

And, ONLY my orange.



Until I finish eating it.

Okay, wow... my first entry into this thing people call "blogging". It's weird to have some strange need to post my thoughts on the worldwide web for ANYONE to view. I guess I'm just an extrovert when it comes to putting out my own bullshit. Of course, like most extroverted bullshitters, I am painfully shy when it comes to the opinions of others. Wonder why that is?

I decided to call this thing Raised on Ritalin, because... well... to put it simply, I was. I started on the wonder drug/dreaded junior varsity amphetamine as a small child when I was diagnosed with ADD. Of course, we didn't call it that yet... we called it hyperactivity, or as my uncle once said, "Goddamn he's a little pain in the ass ain't he?". Back then if you were like me, they sent you to the nurse's office to give you a little "magic" pill to take the edge off of you. I remember the day I was taken off of the crutch that the medical profession insisted I needed, I felt lost and confused and strangely elated, and promptly began wiseassing my teachers at every given opportunity. Oh, the freedom of those days...

I just finished reading AN ASKEW VIEW, a book about the world of CLERKS director Kevin Smith, and this strange universe he has created for us to Marvel at. (subtle puns are acceptable, all others are strictly forbidden) It is written from a fanboy perspective, with very little in the way of any hard-hitting critical analysis of Smith's works. But, being a fan myself I found this to be less than a problem. (Otherwise, I would be writing crappy comments about the author's mother... things being what they are, I believe her to be a lovely woman of impeccable character and of extremely good standing in her community, where she most likely helps retarded children and homeless puppies.) It's a fascinating look into the world of this renegade filmmaker. (I know, I know... his work, with the exception of CHASING AMY is less than serious, he tells dick jokes, he has fart jokes, he is crude blah blah blah... I like things that make me laugh... period. I don't subscribe to all this PC BS about people's "feelings". Funny is funny, and that is that. Plus DOGMA said more about the true nature of faith in two hours than Christianity has for 2000 years.)

I have a comedy gig coming up this weekend, small one at a cigar-club in Glendale, non smoking show... oh the irony.

My hair needs cut, my stomach must flatten and I must finish a couple of scripts. Plus I really should get around to getting that rock for Anne, just so that she knows that I REALLY do want to marry her and become respectable. Though, obviously this will lessen her standing in the community. (Even though she cares deeply for homeless puppies...) If I don't write anytime soon I probably need some ritalin...