I’m usually funnier, but I think I was (literally) passing a kidney stone this episode. Leno’s black guy. Mike Tyson fought Jake Paul. (More like FAKE Paul) UFC and USA. Miller’s Crossing. (I bet you saw it a long time ago, and should watch it again) The Heretic. “Mondays, amirite?”

Down with the sickness. Trump won the 2024 election. Halloween. I discover definitive photographic proof of life outside of Earth; “NBD,” as the kids say. Unsolved Mystery of the mysterious refugee camp(?) behind the shitty, shitty North Hollywood Golds. That movie “Find Me Guilty” with Vin Diesel, and the realization that NY DP’s suck.

I don’t care about Halloween this year, 2024. (Probably because Im old, and crabby. I like seeing slutty costumes, but Im just too lazy) “Girl” trouble. Smile 2 (“tWoOo?!”) Trump was on Rogan and Hinchliffe was at Trump, and people handled it as maturely and reasonably as you’d expect. I want credit for being DECADES ahead of “we all hate Mariah Carey Christmas music now.” Grave circumstances in Bevery Hills.

I finished The Godfather, and give my final thoughts on the fucker. (You won’t have to hear about it again. At least not for a long time. Probably.) I saw that movie “The Apprentice” about young Trump and Roy Cohn. I was lulled in by suggestions that it was “objective” and almost “sympathetic” to the man; spoiler alert: it wasn’t. I talk about the Will Haven/Strife show at the Troubador.   *Editor’s Note: The song I was referring to was “SAIL,” from AWOL Nation. Not “Air,” as I erroneously portended.

The story of my two tattoos, esp the lousy Star Wars one that I have that I’m too much of a pussy to get fixed. (For now) The story of this guy that had his amazing scenes cut from Return Of The Jedi, and how it must have impacted his life. I met the most Evan-y Evan of all time. The Ed Wood screening, with Dana Gould.

My sentence for being a self indulgent pig: hamburger hands. A slight reduction on my fatty sides! Things that are needlessly and hopelessly difficult and insanely expensive in Los Angeles: getting your concealed carry permit, rejoining Central Casting, getting your haircut. Rusty came to visit, we saw “Saturday Night.” (That SNL movie)

Escape the fate on a windshield AND a door! After a two month reprieve, the daily doom and gloom is back. A homeless guy was too good for my shoes. (AND socks) Who the FUCK is "Carmela Creeper?!" Chipotle Incompetence. SOMETHING IS STILL BITING ME, DAILY. At night I can’t sleep, I toss & turn. Saturday night Date with Blood In, Blood Out. Real World Season 2 revisit. Bruce’s show, and an accidental viewing of the god awful Roadhouse remake. I complain about Penguin and the Godfather book some more, and talk about people talking about my stupid screenplay/mini series. (It’s not stupid, it’s good, why am I defenestrating myself)

Megalopolis is quite possibly the most pretentious movie in Hollywood history. Im still watching Tulsa King, somehow. I feel like a real fraud piece of shit at the Comedy Store, and totally don’t need therapy. I’m still watching The Penguin, are you?

I guess I’ll never see Sepultura again. Tennis in Los Angeles has a few different interpretations. (I found out the hard way) I tried to take headshots but deserved a different type of “headshot.” Sympathy for McClusky. October 1 2024, everything is just going great! Definitely still a 1st world country. Last note about “1923,” I promise. (Well, at least until another fuckin season comes out…) Hot LA comedy gos, you get the inside scoop and an ear full of poop.

I moved to LA twenty years ago this week. They need to invent an “avocado blower” next, I guess. Chipotle Incompetence, and what’s up with the youth? Someone needs to reign in these paper towel companies, it’s out of control. The Penguin on HBO. The Montgomery Clift crash site. The making of Thriller documentary on Paramount Plus. I read the Godfather and complain about the book adaptation. (Coppola really is a fucking fraud, I’m sorry, film purists…)

Just to round off the “hate list,” I can’t stand Rainn Wilson either. The old guy at CVS. We had a real ripe banana crisis in this city on Monday. (As if it weren’t a banana republic as it is already, LOLLL!!!) I think I spend more time complaining about the direct flight to NC and back more than actually talking about the NC trip. And the sad part is, the flights weren’t even that troublesome. I’m wound tighter than the guy from Bloodlet’s snare drum.

I couldn’t find the picture of that Vietnamese girl from part 1, but I inadvertently sent myself on a journey of discovery into my past, and illuminated some new revelations. (One of them being “I’ve sent a LOT of dick pics in the last 15yrs”) I hate Kumal Nanjiani, but let me tell you why. I went to watch the Trump/Kamala debate live, and left dissatisfied on about 19 different levels. (Chicken tenders were involved) Trump is a bore on podcasts, and if I never hear about “the golden years of the Boston comedy scene” again, it’ll be too fuckin soon. People seem to have hated Beetlejuice 2, I held strong and instead went to see Terminator 2. Jack Black was behind me in line for it, and I have a litany of thoughts about him AND the movie. Rain globs keep falling on my car, and (also) fuck “I see what you did there” guy, a fresh scourge in the Lukester’s online life. I had a total Saturday night misfire, and I advocate for a “fats only” section of the beach. The Bureau has added “my laundromat” to their list of targets.

I wrap up Labor Day weekend, and essentially use your ears as a repository for my vitriol. (I apologize, but it’s much cheaper than therapy) Leaf blowers! Dumb people at the beach! High prices! You name it, I bitch about it! I posit the question “Am I a weirdo for ‘stretch-talking?’” (Details inside) One more note on the A Team, one more famous Rainbow bar anecdote, the infamous ET Atari game debacle (look at ME following through on promised topics!) and the annoying, mousy weirdo at my PT office.

West coast aint got no love for Zito movers?! Your brain can only remember 150 people, but it’s still weird to me when famous people don’t recognize me. Chipotle Incompetence™. I’m so disgruntled I don’t even like Entourage or The A Team anymore. Hurtin for a Burton. I sent in my Misfits pilot(?) for coverage. I went to the Vista for the first time (where there was a vistaview, vistas AND views) to see Strange Darling, a hot new indie hit. Stung by the Beekeep’ah. Last Samurai – does it hold up? Friday night on historic Sunset blvd (two of the four spots left, anyway) and a date with a Thai(?) chick(?).

Ireland, here I come. More like Montgomery almost DROVE OFF a Clift.  Old and burned out. T Dog’s birthday. Wheel wet got me wheel mad. The Bureau infects Gelsons. The letter “W” (I wish I was kidding, that’s how light of material I was this week) De-aging in movies is somehow getting worse. Trump on Theo Von (why) I figured out why it’s Hardees and Carls Jr on two sides of the country.           

Mr Helper, and a review of the new Aliens video game, Alien: Romulus

Aside from the Bureau, I now have the nefarious family branched out into all my favorite products, systematically ruining them. They’ve now infiltrated the Doordash app, Bai flavored water, and Carl’s Jr. My review of “Raising Canes,” a new (alleged) chicken finger slinger around town. Why do bars and restaurants constantly reopen in establishments that have a proven track record of “not working previous to this?” T Dog & I saw Mark Normand in Thousand Oaks, then I drove to my boss’s downtown and saw all the beautiful folks. (Of which I am not one)   

A shocking turn of events in Los Angeles, breaking news. If you want to cover “I Drive A Fast Car,” I hope you get in one and drive it into a tree. I hate the driver of a Tesla, more or less-la. Travel rage-ency. Rocha and the wretched Virzis at the Ice House, with Daryl Hammond-cheese sandwich. Corrriiinnnne’s beach birthday party, and a shotgun-shoppin Sunday.

Earthquakes! Protests! Chipotle! What a week, fam. There’s people walking around in sweaters and jackets in 95 degree heat. Ilhan Omar might be part of the Brotherhood Of Evil Mutants. I advocate for bipartisan legislation for grown adults in congress to stop referring to their grandparents as the childhood gibberish names they had for them when they were 2. (“tWoO?!”) There’s 2 astronauts stuck in space, and people somehow give less of a shit about them than they did those billionaires in that submarine. There’s a Fresh Prince reboot coming (and it’s worse than you could have possibly imagined), my own screenplay made me cry (punch me when you see me) and Hollywood once again doesn’t learn that NO ONE WANTS TO SEE CHICK ACTION MOVIES.

*Warning,* This week, I’m stretched for material thinner than a regular sized condom on Mr Marcus’ cock. I have a neurotic panic about a potential flesh eating bacteria in my face. A whole boatload of Chipotle Incompetence™, and more shoe drama. I met Vinnie Friday night and had too many margaritas, then paid the price for it the next day. I missed the Boogie Nights screening, but got a lot of writing done. Harrison Ford talked shit about the (probably) pile of shit new Black-tain America movie coming out. I was so desperate for content I even talk about Hawk Tuah girl. (Please forgive me, audience)

The remainder of my Buffalo trip, and a visit to my brother's compound. I went to see Deadpool 3 so that you don't have to. 

You have to take out a mortgage on your house now to get a haircut in Los Angeles. I saw Apocalypse Now in 70mm, and it was quite an experience. I flew to Buffalo and did things, I'm here right now. Why does Hollywood want us to like Glen Powell so much? Beerwolf wrote one of my favorite songs. 

My assessment and analysis of the attempted Trump assassination. I attempt to focus on the macro aspects of how & why this happened, but end up coming off generally incoherent and mostly rambling. Hopefully this makes some kind of sense to someone, but either way it felt good to rant about it like a low key lunatic. I really put the “anal” in analysis. (If you dont like hearing about politics, just chilllll....til the next episode)  

Harrison Ford finally decides to do a Marvel movie. (Good timing, dick head) People with money actually like my dumb movie ideas?? Longlegs review. I also went and saw Wild Bunch AND Far And Away. It’s hard for old guys to scream. (Misery Signals, Full Collapse)

Live, from the streets of LA, in my Enterprise cigarette sarcophagus! Fourth of July wrap up. (More like “ju lie about having an interesting podcast”) I’m now writing my first TV series! (God help us) Will Haven show at the Teragram, with Dude/Boges. I lament my laborious work week, but I venerate Yardhouse, followed by This Week In Chipotle Incompetence. (There’s always a ying to the yang) Longlegs speculation.

The politics of fireworks. 4th of July memories and mammaries. They saved Marilyn Monroe’s house. “Look How Cool Luke Is,” “industry connections” edition. Satan’s sprinkler system, and a guy on a bicycle on the epon..ponomoys 405. Chipotle Incompetence Round Up. Rocha’s show at the Ice House, and a whiskey tastin’ with T Dog. (Lou’s got cancer [CANCER!])

I went to a bar that was streaming the debate live, and I give my thoughts on it. I had like 7 or 8 thoughts, maybe. (Maybe more) I don't really do a political podcast, I just threw this one out as a lark. If you hate politics (dont blame you), skip this mama jamma and I'll see you at episode 455. (Also, in hell)

Passport office, attempt #2. Donald Sutherland died. July is shaping up to be a helluva month, but June Is The Month For Me. (Hourglass)

Id literally rather go to the DMV than get my haircut. (Why dont they cut your hair AT the DMV, let's get some shit done) Waba Grill is deceptively(ish) unhealthy. It's time for federal intervention into Chipotle. (Im generally a "small government" man, but this has gone too far.) A singles soiree with me and Gus 1. A misbegotten outing to see The Godfather on father's day. Liberals finally ruined "The Boys," because they ruin everything. Attempt #2 at a passport. 

Industry mixer, and a homeless man absconds with my phone. Adaptation at the Egyptian, and Rob's play Saturday night. Some Like It Hot, and others like parking tickets. Another wonderful haircut from Floyds barbershop. (Which will most likely be bankrupt in 5 years)

De Niro: confirmed mook. "Now take me to jail." - D Trump. Tender Greens? More like Tender GROANS. Vinnie gets to write for Mike Tyson. I went to see Dick Tracy and a movie called Come And See, and I had two what Sallah from Indiana Jones would call "Bad dates." 

Predator 6, starring Arnold Schwarzenegger. I was one of the 11 people that saw Furiosa this weekend, and I give my thoughts on it. I went to the Comedy Store a couple times, and witnessed Vincent Falcone have one of the amazing comedy set turnarounds I've ever seen. I had my car out for 6 hours, and you would think I had just driven across the fucking Dust Bowl in 1933. Carls Jr changed its menu without consulting me first, and it turned out about as well as you'd expect. 

Coppola reaches his final form: Brando. When you cast someone who's supposed to be the younger version of them in a prequel, a good idea is to cast someone who looks absolutely nothing like them. Taxi Driver 2. Colin Quinn should moderate the presidential debate. Film nerd singles meet up. (It was about as successful as you'd imagine) Someone went the wrong way on the 405 and it didn't end well for anyone, and I saw a guy going pee pee in the carpool lane. Fred "Murder" Murphy's show. (Again) The act II blues. The black chick at the laundromat. Hinge dates with a tall fuck. Bruce's band's album listening party. 

Whoever changed the date of the May 11th Colin Quinn show at Largo almost inadvertantly killed me, and threw my life into utter upheavel and extreme discomfort for several days. Ruminations on Fred "Murder" Murphy's comedy show. More like Larry CARE-azewski! Francis Ford Coppola's new movie trailer hit the wires, and you'll be shocked to know it looks like another boring pile of self-indulgent shit. 

A contentious relationship with Al R. Gees! LOL!! I saw The Fall Guy in "4DX," so you don't have to. A whimsical night with some of the Monster Squad. I met with the jew broad and it went absolutely nowhere. 

An afternoon in Gavin Newsom's California. I want to dig a hole in my face and set fire to it, just to destroy my awful sinuses. A weekend of galivanting with Penis Powers & Rocha. The Rock knows how to "piss everyone off," LOL!!! Night court. (Maybe)

More like QUITTIN Tarantino! 28 Years Later. Civil War. (the movie) Fallout on Amazon. Alec Baldwin getting harassed. Rob's show, and Saturday night shenanigans. Still chasin Chasin!

45, still alive! I breakdown my illustruous birthday, and fabulous trip to the Ronald Reagan Library over in Simi Valley, among other celebratory activities. Blood test aftermath. The final Curb Your Enthusiasm episode was almost fascinatingly bad. Tulsa King background drama update/interesting turn of events. Interacting with a maniac on the Game Of Thrones subreddit. More screenplay research/Marilyn Monroe historical tidbits. It rained all weekend, but I tried to do things. (Including eviscerating a black widow somewhere in my bathroom)

Behind the scenes drama! The phantom horn of Sweetzer avenue. I watched a guy leafblow the grass and a pile of dirt. (I wish I was kidding) Lucky Brand jeans are wonderful, but fuck their shallow ass pockets. Why don't you leave well enough Stallone. Old Hollywood tales/research and screenwrite-y bullshit. 

Fast food? More like fast FEUD. More like chicken pad DIE. Another lovely leafblower. Ants askance. More highly productive and emotionally fulfilling Los Angeles women/dates, I promise you I totally won't die alone if I stay here. Got to meet Machete! Dune Two. (Fremen? More like FROWNIN)

If I thinks it, I jinx it. Beetlejuice 2 trailer just dropped, and so did your expectations. Caf-fiend. When ISIS claimed the 2017 Las Vegas shooting, it was "mysterious." But when they claimed the Russian opera shooting this week, it was unquestionably accepted. The Chimneysweep closed. The Door Guy show at the Comedy Store, part 2. Dr Rob Banks show, Saturday. Arthur Miller is a pain in the ass, even dead. The Quiet On The Set Nickelodeon documentary. 

I thought I'd said everything I had to say about the ride home last episode, but one more pleasant surprise awaited me: 65mph winds, for 30 miles! Yay! People that don't reset clocks after a time change deserve a Sisyphus-esque fate, for all eternity. (Wait til I get into dishwasher etiquette) The robber and the laundromat screamer. (That sounds like the title of a shitty 90s indie flick) Hot nights out on the town: The Rainbow, and Mr Furleys. Alien: Romulus teaser trailer, and the first 8 pages of my glorious new screenplay! 

I drove 3000 miles in 6 days, Los Angeles to Montana & back, to work with/facilitate a music video shoot there. It was a challenging yet visually resplendent affair. 

A Lukie complaining "perfect storm" at the DMV. Shocking news on the Chipotle front. I took a bullet; a MAGIC BULLET, LOLL!! Austin Butler in Heat 2? ("tWoOo?!") The Las Vegas shooting is the most flagrantly, sloppily, and inexplicably covered up event in United States history; "NBD!" (as the kids say) North Korea, South Korea, Marilyn Mon-roe.

The little LA flourishes that make it such a delight to live here! Dubai? More like Du-BYE, to that opportunity. (Good job, dummy) Doing favors for people always ends up fucking you in the motion picture business, and I still do it. Underappreciated skill: traffic helicopter narrator guy. Eric Rocha at the West Covina Laugh Factory, and going to see "Casino" at the Aero theater. 

The middle ages. The Normand conundrum. More like BOOO Detective. The politics of bush. Coalesce is back(?) The fall of Grimace. Bank Of America broke my heart.

Not Grateful for Larry's script. Shakedown at the DMV. What's the point of mall security guards? After the rain! A night at the Store, with Grimace. Thursday at the Observatory, the worst music venue in southern California

They say "the rain in Spain makes Lukie complain." Jacket fever. Dolemite Is My Name screening in Gardena, at the theater that's in the scene-a. Kickin it with Grimace. Love won and lost in LA.