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August 31, 2001

Rrrreally Big Show!

Rrrreally Big Show!

First, if you're reading this, scroll down two entries, and read up...I'm lame, and I messed up the order I wanted to add things to the blog tonight.

Back? Cool.

I'm listening to The Pogues' "There's Whiskey In The Jar". Goddamn, The Pogues make me want to go out to the greatest pub ever, and play darts until I can't move. I love The Pogues. Why do I feel compelled to share what I'm listening to? Like I said on my music links page, I think you can learn a LOT about a person from what music they listen to, so there. On to the show.

Tonight, we did a special benefit for Keith, because he's running in the AIDS marathon, and that is a very cool thing to do.

Some highlights: I am the sidekick on the show, so I have a certain "role" to play, and I have to know when to talk, and when to shut up. So I choose my little quips and barbs very carefully. Tonight we had three VERY funny people on: Kevin Nealon, Ric Overton, and Wendy Liebman. VERY, VERY funny people. Comedy gods. So when we have people like these on the show, I try to turn it up a notch, you know? I mean, really give up the funny, and not suck.

Tonight, I got into this sort of zone, and it ROCKED. Kevin and I (yeah, I can call him Kevin. How cool is that?) just got into this thing, where he would start a story, get to the point where the joke would come, and just look over his shoulder at me, and say, "Wil?" and I'd open my mouth, and something really fucking funny would fly out. Now, here's the thing that sucks about this, NOW: when I am improvising, (which is pretty much what I was doing tonight, just making it up as I went along) I can't remember anything that I said, or did. It's part of living "In the moment". Ask any improvisor, and they'll tell you the same thing. So I can't relate to you all the funny, which is kind of a drag, but I can remember one thing that happened, that made me, and the audience laugh: Kevin (!) was sort of going on and on about how he can't build anything, at all and the audience is beginning to check out (bad), and Keith asks Kevin (!) what he would do if he were to build The Chunnel. So Kevin (!) says, "Well...where would I start?"

And I chime in, "In England, or France."

I thought that was pretty damn funny, and so did the audience...but I don't know if writing it gets across what I'd hoped for...you tell me.

OH! I'm listening to my entire MP3 directory, on shuffle, and it just started playing "Bone Machine" by The Pixies..."Your Irish skin/ looks Mexican/ Our love is rice/ and beans/ and horses lard..." Dammit, I love this band. Why do all the good ones bust up?

Speaking of bands that bust up, our musical guest tonight was Nina Gordon, who was in Veruca Salt, and is all solo now. Okay, I absolutely ADORE my wife, as any regular reader of this site can attest, but I have the HUGEST crush on Nina Gordon. She is beautiful, talented, can sing and write like nobody's business...and she smells really, really good. And she was cool about letting me take a picture with her, which I can't upload becuse my $#@!ing evaluation copy of CuteFTP just expired. Goddammit. I gotta wait until tomorrow so I can buy it. Crap.

Well, to make this entry not a freaking War and Peace Epic like all the others, I'll wrap up soon.

The show was rad. I had a great time, and the best thing is that the entire last 45 minutes of the show, I was SO doing the pee pee dance. Oh my god I had to pee so badly, and I'm onstage doing a live show, and I can't get off the stage, at all. So Kevin (!) is telling a cool story, and I can't even pay attention, because I gotta go so bad. And he turns to me, so I can spit out a good punchline, because I've been doing a pretty good job of it all night, and all I can come up with is, "Hey, I'm just the sidekick, man. Sorry." Because what I really wanted to say was, ala Forrest Gump: "I gotta pee!".

Tomorrow, we're taking Nolan and some of his friends to the beach. It should rule. I can't wait to skim board. I've only been to the beach three times this summer. Which is three times more than last year.

I still haven't heard from Roger about Rules Of Attraction. I think I'm just going to call him...but I'm kinda scared to...lame, I know.

That's all for tonight...oh! except one more thing. Well, two, really: I've been getting emails from the people I linkedto! That is so cool! And, if you're reading this in order, like I told you to, you're prolly wondering what is going on with my cat. Well, about 15 minutes ago, Sketch was running from window to window, meowing like crazy, and I knew that he saw Biko. So I went out back, and there he was. All fluffed out and dusty, his little face covered in cobwebs and junk.

*Huge sigh of relief*

I'm glad he's back.

Everything, in it's right place.

Don't forget your towel

Don't forget your towel

Here are the stories I wanted to put up, yesterday, but I quit when my wife came home:

Anne bought some Pear lotion from Victoria's Secret. I love that, because it's what she smelled like when we were dating.

A note about my family, and specifically my wife: I was telling her about my website, and about how cool I think it is that people are coming here, commenting on my lame little ramblings, and stuff, and she said, "This kind of scares me."

"What kind of scares you?"

"Well, letting people know so much about you. So much about us. I worry that people may think they know you really well, and try to invade our privacy. I don't want to worry about that. I certainly don't want to be worried about the kids, either."

I thought long and hard about that. I want to strike a balance, between giving the world a view of my life without any media filters, and expecting the world to respect the my personal privacy, and the privacy of my wife and step-children. Honestly, I never really thought that this site would become as popular as it has. And I don't know if it will stay as visited as it is right now...either way, I plan to keep on writing, because I gather that people like reading what I have to say, and, honestly, it's very cathartic for me, and I really do like to tell stories.

So here's the deal (boy, I say that a LOT): I'm not posting pictures of the kids.

I'm not posting lots of pictures of me and Anne (even though she did come and kiss me on the webcam last night...that was cool), and there are certain areas of my life that are just off limits.

My first priority in my life is my wife and step-kids. Period. So I hope that's cool with whomever becomes a regular reader.

Boy, I sound really stern there, huh? I guess if I was talking, it would be in my "dad voice". Heh.

More from yesterday: I was sent the coolest jpeg ever by some really cool kids. It really made me smile, a LOT.

I also was sent a link for a campaign to Free TVs Wil Wheaton. It is HELLA funny.




I am clearly defining my use of "hella" as sarcastic, and ironic, for the tiny-brained. You know who you are.

It is my understanding that one of the very cool people at 1142.org made it. And I would like to take this time to say, "Thanks, dude. This is way cool, and it really made my day!"

Finally, last night, Ryan and Nolan were watching TV while I was in the kitchen. I walked out to see what they were watching, and it was Stand By Me, on Channel 5. I thought that was so cool. I mean, they've seen it before, and all, but to see them watching it on their own made me feel really cool. :)

I walked into our family room, and Nolan says, "Look, Wil! You're on TV!" and Ryan says, "Look! There you are!" Pause. "Why did you just faint?"

Kids rule. They just. Freaking. Rule.

Turn on the Frustration

Turn on the frustration

Boy. What a day. I have so much to talk about, I don't even know where to begin.

What a horrible way to start off an entry. Mrs. Lee was right, I guess.

So here's the deal: My cats, Biko and Sketch, are totally indoor cats. I never got over the loss of my cat, Rita (who was a boy, but we thought he was a girl, so we named him after my Voice Over agent, who gave him to me), which was totally my fault when I was like 10 or 11. So when I got my 2 cats, I decided that they would only be indoor cats, so I wouldn't have to worry about them getting lost, or killed, or subjected to any of the horrors that outdoor cats surely face. Now, as someone recently pointed out, dogs have masters, and cats have staff, (I file that under "I wish I'd thought of that") the cats are CONSTANTLY trying to get outside, and sometimes they make it a few feet, and I catch them...well, tonight, while I was doing the J. Keith vanStraaten Show (I have pictures!! I'll put them up later), Biko and Sketch got out. Anne found Sketch in about 30 minutes, but Biko has been out for close to 3 hours, and it's after midnight, and I'm really, really worried about him. He's small, he has a heart condition, and I worry that he can't defend himself from the big, mean, feral cats who roam my neighborhood. So if you could spare a thought for him, until he comes back, I'd appreciate it.

I am going to finish the entry I started tomorrow, but I'm going to go out of order, because what happened today is more on my immediate mind, and I'm gonna tell you about that, first.

This morning, I was supposed to have a dentist appointment, but I messed up the time (which I do quite often). I thought it was at 3:15, but it was at 9:30 AM. How I got that messed up, I'll never know, but when I went to check it in my Palm Pilot, the damn thing wouldn't turn on. Luckily, I have everything backed up on the computer (which is currently named HAL-9000, but that's not all that cool...I was thinking maybe changing the name to "Marvin"), but the dentist entry wasn't there. Odd. So here's the thing: I bought my Palm pilot at Best Buy, because the price was right, and they have this great service/replacement plan...or so I thought. (I just went out to look for Biko...note to self: My next door neighbor has a really cool backyard, with a pool. She's like 1000, so I gotta ask her if we can swim sometime).

Back to my Best Buy ni/*.phpare: When I bought my Palm Pilot, they tried to sell me this service plan thing, and the Palm cost close to 200 bucks (150 after rebate, thank you very much), and spending 35 dollars on a service plan seemed stupid to me, all things considered. But the guy did something that's very hard to do to Wil: he sold it to me. He told me that if anything went wrong...that's an important word, anything, because we'll find out in a minute that anything really means something on a very short list...if anything went wrong, I could bring it in, and they'd either fix it, or replace it, right then and there, and I'd be out in under 30 minutes. This is also important to remember, because we'll son find out that by 30 minutes, he really meant over an hour. I asked him, specifically, will I need my receipt? No. Will I need my original packaging? No. What if I lose this little service plan pamphlet thingy? No problem, Mr. Wheaton, we'll look it up in the computer.

Can you guess where I'm going with this?

I get there this morning, at 11. I have to meet my friend Travis at the ACME, because we're rehearsing for the sketch show at the huge Trek convention in Vegas next week. So I call Travis at 1045, and tell him that I'll be there closer to 1130. Oh, how wrong I was.

I get to Worst Buy (gee, you think I'm the first person to come up with that?) at 11. I wait in the three person line for close to 15 minutes, because they've got one person working on returns. "Boy" I think to myself, "the 30 minutes must account for 15 minutes in line! These kids can bang it out!" Wrong again. Little did I know that the 15 minutes spent in line would be the only non-enraging minutes for the next hour.

I explained my problem to the apparently helpful Best Buy Customer Service Drone. She looked at me, looked at my dead Palm pilot, and said, "Okay, do you have your receipt?"

What? Did I have my receipt? I don't need a receipt, I told her, confidently, everything you need it in your computer.

Okay, here's another tangent. Sorry, I know this breaks up the flow, but it just happened: My phone rang. Not a big deal, right? Well, it's 1AM here, so that is a big deal. The phone rings this time, and I think "Oh shit. Something's bad." Matter of fact, I used to pick up the phone in the middle of the night, and say, "Someone better be dead!" Until someone really was. One of my best friends had hung himself. So now I answer the phone, "Hope you won the lottery!"...anyway, I said, "Hello?" and the voice on the other end says, "[long pause] Is Joe there?"

"No, there's not Joe here."

"Who is this?" comes the reply.

I immediately think, "Great. Some fuckwad has gotten my home number, and is fucking with me, and now I have to change my numbers, blah blah, blah..." So I put on my "dad" voice, and I say, "This had better be a wrong number."

And the voice (who I've pegged as about 17 or so) says, "You know what? You're a fag."

I am stunned into silence, at the genius currently coursing across the phone wires, but only briefly. I'm still pretty sure this is some jackass trying to mess with The Kid From TV (yes, it still happens. Jocks never grow up, apparently), so I say, "Okay, genius. I have you on my caller ID, and my next call is to the police."

So I called the police, just to make a record, in case this was some phone calling equivalent of a skRip+ K!|>|>i3, and they sent a guy out here, because I live in a tiny town where nothing ever happens, and he just left.

End of tangent.

We now retun you to: "My Best Buy ni/*.phpare", already in progress.

What? Did I have my receipt? I don't need a receipt, I told her, confidently, everything you need is in your computer.

She looked at me, blankly, tapped a few keys, and told me that they didn't have anything about my Palm in there. They had my wife's camera, but nothing about my Palm.

Great. Here beginneth the ni/*.phpare.

I'm just gonna cut to the chase, because it's REALLY not worth rehashing, blow by blow, and it's late and I'm tired, and I have to get up at 7, so we can take Nolan to the beach for his birthday.

Here are the highlights:

They told me there was nothing they could do without a receipt. I told them that when I bought the service plan, I was told that everything would be in the com--dammit. Ferris just laid at my feet, and farted. Jesus Christ I hate that- I was told that everything would be in the computer, and I wouldn't need it. At first, I was calm. I stayed calm, but forceful, you understand, as I climbed the chain of managers and supervisors, each as useless as the last.

Here was their first solution: I could get a

I would go get a Palm IIIxe from the Palm section. I would bring it back, and I give them the box with all the accessories, and I'd get the actual Palm unit, itself. This was honoring the service plan I'd bought, so it sounded okay to me, until I found out that I was going to be charged a "restocking fee". Well, I was not about to pay a "restocking fee", since I was mislead by the guy who sold me the service plan, and since I had already given them a lot of my money, and a lot of my time. After much gnashing of teeth, and wringing of hands, they agreed to waive the restocking fee. I think it may have had something to do with me saying, "Best Buy is a billion dollar company. My wife and I spend quite a bit of money here, annually. I am willing to walk out of here, right now, without anything, and take all my business elsewhere. That's my TV-buying business, my CD-buying business, my game-buying business, and my DVD-buying business. You're willing to lose all that, over a $20 restocking fee?" (see, it wasn't about the money. It was about the principle. I'm sure a lot of you understand.)

So they tell me to go get the IIIxe, and bring it back, and we'll do the switch, without the restocking fee.

NIKE! (That's Greek for "Victory!", and American for "Sweatshop!")

I ran like phidipidies to the Palm counter, and asked for a IIIxe, so I could be on my way.

Small problem: Best Buy doesn't carry the IIIxe any more. They carry the IIIc, which is nearly 150 dollars more, and way more Palm Pilot than I need.

So I head back to the most innappropriately named "customer service" counter that ever was, and explain the lack of IIIxe's. Which sets me right back to square one. The woman who is "helping" me gleefully informs me that there's nothing else that she can do for me.

So I did what we in acting call "making a choice". I made the choice to become the hysterical, angy, irrational man who they really wanted to just get the F out of Best Buy. I ranted. I raved. I drooled.

And I finally talked to a manager who could do something for me. She explained that there was a mess up in the computer, and that wasn't my fault (duh) she said that I had 2 options: Go home and search for the receipt (which I am certain I've lost. I can never keep receipts. If I put them all in a magic bag of receipt-holding, even that vanishes), or, I can take the $149.00 that they show my IIIxe being currently worth, and I can apply that towards an "upgrade", if I'd like.

I've been thinking about getting a Visor.

So I finally spent an extra 40 bucks, and got the Visor. Now, wy any one of the parade of managers I'd dealt with before that couldn't tell me that is beyond me. Like Columbo was so fond of saying, "Maybe I'm a little stupid here..."

I feel like I gave in, a little bit, because a few years ago, I would have walked out of there without anything, and fought them until I got exactly what I wanted. But Travis was waiting, and I knew that I would be able to spin my tale here, and let everyone know what we've all known, all along: big corporate behemoths like Best Buy suck. I'd encourage anyone who reads this to take your money, and your business, elsewhere. Anywhere. A mom and pop store would be the best, but, after that, maybe a place like 800.com, or something. Just keep your money, and your business away from Big Brother Best Buy. That's today's call to action, such as it is.

Next: Rehearsal, and the "Rrrreally big shew!"

August 30, 2001

Don't Panic

Don't Panic

I'm listening to Coldplay right now. Earlier today, I was listening to Tool, and some Charlie Parker. Does that strike anyone else as a bit incongruous? Speaking of Coldplay, who else thinks that they sound a LOT like Travis, and the first time you heard "Yellow", you thought, "Boy, Dave Matthews sure has changed his sound."

Woah...I just went to the Coldplay website, to make sure the link was correct, and their font is "Albertus", the same font that was used on my favorite tv show of all time, The Prisoner. Matter of fact, it was my fanatical love of The Prisoner that allowed me to understand why anyone would want to wear a spacesuit and go to a convention. Because I used to have a lame little Number 6 pin, and I would wear it to game cons, back in the day.

Oh, that reminds me of this one time I went to a huge game con, and some guy was selling "Put Wesley In The Airlock" buttons. I went up to his table, and he saw me coming, and tried to hide them, but I got there too fast, and I took one. While I was looking at it, I could see the huge drops of sweat falling off his Hutt-like visage, and I asked him, "How much?" He told me 2.50, or something like that, so I bought it, and wore it on my Batman tshirt the rest of the day. That was cool.

Anyway, about Coldplay: I really like this CD. It gives me the same feeling that Hatful of Hollow or The Queen Is Dead did, when I was in ^H^H suffering through high school: it's soothing, but also kinda of melancholy, but not in a depressing sort of way. The song "Don't Panic" is really wonderful. I wonder if they're fans of Arthur Dent & Co?

Enough stream of consciousness ramblings. I wanted to write about a few things that happened today.

I shot some promos for TNN today, for this huge TNG marathon they're doing when they launch TNG on TNN (I love that; it's like NBA on NBC, but without the sex scandals, drugs, and fatherless children all over the freaking country). It was REALLY fun. Promos are those things where you see someone say, "Hi! I'm Gary Coleman, and you're watching the Hour of Yaks, right here on UHF channel 67, Baton Rouge!" They can be REALLY lame, but I always have fun with them. I get the copy, which is usually something like, "Hi, I'm ___, and you're watching Star Trek: The Next Generation, on Time Warner Cable." So when I do it, to amuse myself, I say, "Hi! I'm former UN Secretary General Boutros Butros Gali..." and "Hi! I'm the ghost of former Phillipine dictator Ferdinand Marcos..." or whatever. Hey, it makes me laugh, and then when I do the REAL promo, I'm smiling, and people see me all happy on TV, which is good.

So I'm hosting this 5 day marathon, where they're going to show the "best" episodes of TNG, as decided by the fans, and stuff.

Okay, I gotta stop here, and give a bit of perspective. I thought I'd open up the old IM, since I'm sitting here, anyways, and I've spent the last...well, however long it is running Parachutes twice on the CD player, just answering IM's. I really didn't think that many people would be interested. I really didnt. I know that sounds like "Singles" where the guy says, "Everyone here has a thing" and the girl says, "I think your thing is that you don't have a thing." I'm really not trying to have any false modesty here, or not have a thing...it just surprises me, that's all. So I open up the IM, and I get over 50 IMs. And I want to reply, you know, and then I get sucked into all these conversations, because these people are pretty cool and making me laugh (Katie) and sending me silly stuff (soma dawling)...and next thing I know, it's almost midnight, and I haven't even gotten close to finishing the stories I want to tell for today.

Boy, I am really rambling tonight. Oh well. Deal.

So TNN is doing this marathon, and they're having 5 of us host 5 days of it, doing things like "I'm Wil, and you're watching the Five Day Mission on TNN!" and stuff. And I'm shooting the "stay tuned" things, and that sort of thing, and I remembered just how much fun I had when I was doing that show. Now, I know that most people really didn't like the whole Wesley thing, and there were lots of times when the writing REALLY pissed me off, but, over all, it really WAS a good time. And sometimes I miss it.

Okay, nearly 2 hours have passed between the last paragraph, and this one, because Anne came home, and I haven't seen her all day, so we sat at the table and talked, while we waited for the bread I was baking to finish. I swear, there is nothing like the smell of bread baking in your house to make everything right with the world, you know?

Now I'm listening to the soundtrack from Almost Famous, and I am a sucker for "Tiny Dancer" (I was long before the movie, though, so gimmie a break, okay? Why do I bring up Tiny dancer, well, because I want nothing more in this world than to go get into bed next to my wife, and hold her hand while I drift off to sleep.

I have LOTS of cool stuff to talk about from today, but I'm gonna write it up tomorrow. So you can comment on this entry,or wait until the next one. It's up to you.


August 28, 2001

Romper Stomper

Romper Stomper

From an Email I got this morning:


I'm writing a book about Romper Room and came across a TV appearance of you on a California show with Miss Nancy. You told the hosts you used to watch Romper Room "religiously."

I'm writing to people who were on the show, or who watched the show, to get their impressions of Romper Room. I'm hoping you can answer some questions. What made you watch it? What's your strongest memory of the program? Were you ever on Romper Room?

My response:

I was never on "Romper Room", but here is my clearest memory, from watching it as a kid:

I would sit on the floor of our house (which was really a chicken coop behind my grand parent's farmhouse. Yes, we were that poor), my fingers dug deeply into the golden shag carpeting, my tiny fists balled with anticipation, as Miss Nancy would hold up her magic mirror, and ask it to tell her, today, "did our friends have fun at play?" I would sit up straight, stare into the glorious black and white 13-inch Zenith TV, and wait patiently as she saw Steven, and Jody, and Tina, and Todd, and Michael, and every-fucking-body except WIL! Hey! Miss Nancy! I'm sitting right here! I've had LOTS of fun at play! I did the DooBee dance! I ran around pretending I was a fireman! I HAD FUN AT PLAY! WHY CAN'T YOU SEE ME?! AM I INVISIBLE?! *pant* *pant*

I never watched tv shows like the ones I did when I was 4. Jesus, does anyone?

August 27, 2001

Save Ferris

Save Ferris

I'm listening to Cake right now. Have you noticed that Cake is one of those bands that evokes a visceral reaction in people? I mean, they either really, really love it, or they really, really hate it. I dunno, maybe it's just me.

Here's the story of Ferris:

My wife is the coolest, ever. You know that stupid corny hallmark-card thing about someone making you want to be a better person? Well, sorry, I like to be anti and all Emo and shit, but it's true. I love my wife more than anything, and she really does make me want to be a better person. I could gush about her for pages here, but I'm not gonna. I am going to exercise restraint.

Oh, fuck that. I knew from the moment that I saw Anne that I would marry her. Isn't that weird? Has that ever happened to someone who wasn't in some godawful Nora Ephron movie? And the way we met...it was all timing. My best girlfriend, Stephanie, worked with Anne for YEARS, but she never introduced us...I mean, she even babysat Anne's kids, at MY PARENT'S HOUSE when we were younger, and she never introduced me to Anne...because, when we look back at stuff, the timing was just all wrong. We weren't ready to meet each other. But when we did, it was bootylicious.

Anne is beautiful. I mean, she is fucking hella rad.




I always joke that when we are out, people look at us and complain that there's another hot babe with a geek. I say that I am Bob Goldthwait to her Nikki Cox, David Copperfield to her Claudia Schiffer, Sigfried to her Roy...I truly adore my wife, and that's all I have to say about that.

One of the things I adore about her is how she has what Soul Coughing called "Boundless Love". Anne works every day, takes her kids to school, picks them up, deals with their dad, and still has time to make me feel like I'm important in her life.

We have this fake dog poop that someone gave us a long time ago, and we have the game that we play, where we try to put the poop in each other's stuff. Recently, I stuck it in the toe of her shoe, which was in her suitcase. She found it when she put her shoe on in Vegas. She put it in the exact middle of my bed, under the sheets, and it scared the hell out of me when I jumped into bed around 230 or something last week. My point is, my wife is cool, okay? Yesterday, when I was sobbing like a little bitch in our bedroom, she came in, sat next to me, put her arm around me, and just sat there, loving me. I could feel it. Then she gave me Kleenex, and told me that she'd leave me alone until I felt better.

So you need to know that to understand the story of Ferris.

Anne is a sucker for hard-luck cases, especially animals. One time a few years ago, she almost got hit on the freeway, because she saw a kitten running in the slow lane...so she stopped her car right there and got out to save the kitten, but it got hit by a car just before Anne could get to it, and Anne sat on the freeway, holding the kitten while it died in her hands.

She was fucked up about it for months.

So about 18 months ago, she and I are on our patio, and we hear this meowing coming from our garage. We both thought it was one of my cats, Biko or Sketch, (who are both inside cats, but occasionally get out), so we went to look...and out comes this skinny black cat with no tail. Anne immediately falls in love with him, and she takes him to the vet, to get him healthy again, while I make the "Found Cat" posters. Long story short: We thought he was going to die, the vet said he was just dehydrated, we got him shots, and Anne named him "Felix". He has lived with us ever since, and he is one ot the coolest cats, ever.

Shortly after Felix came to live with us, a woman Anne works with told us about this guide dog she trained, who was also named Felix. She told us that Felix works for a guy up in Canada (and you can't spell "runaway production" without Canada!), and Felix had been hit by a car, and they weren't sure if he would be able to work as a guide dog any more. I guess when a service dog has to be retired, they give the person who trained that animal the right of first refusal as a place to live out their life, but Rita (Anne's friend) lives in an apartment with her husband and young son. Not the best place for a 90 pound lab. So Rita asked her if Felix could come to live with us, and of course Anne said "yes". Long story short: Felix was okay, and he's still working with his guy in Canada. Which is great, because I can only imagine what the bond between service dog and owner must be like. I would just speculate that it's similar to parent-child, and I always hoped that Felix would be able to stay with his guy. In the process of waiting to see if Felix would come live with us, we got on a list for guide dogs who flunk their final exam, because we have wanted a dog for AGES, and we thought that would be the best way to get one.

We are ADAMANTLY opposed to pet stores selling dogs and cats, by the way /soapbox.

Anyway, cut to Memorial day this year. We have no dog. Anne is taking the kids to Home Depot, so they can buy the materials necessary to make a grind rail (they're all about the short boards. I'm all about the long boards. It makes for an interesting dynamic when we skate).

Funny aside: Ryan (12) and Nolan (10) were talking about how excited they were to get a grind rail, which they kept calling a "pole". Nolan says to Ryan, "We TOTALLY have to get some grinding wax, Ryan!" Ryan replies, "Yeah, so we can wax our pole!"

Okay, so they're leaving the Home Depot, and instead of going to the Left, to get back to the freeway like they always do, Anne goes right, and passes this bus stop, where this tiny little dog is chewing on a t-shirt. Anne says that she felt compelled to stop and save her. So she did. As soon as she got out of the car, the dog ran into some Oleander bushes, and Anne spent close to 30 minutes getting her out, and took her to an Emergency vet, for some shots and to get the ticks out of her ears.

So Anne brings home this skinny, 27 pound, depressed little dog, and, I must be totally honest, I was pissed. I was so mad that she had made this huge decision to take on the responsibility of a dog without consulting me. I mean, we have enough responsibilities already, you know? We really had it out. There was much gnashing of teeth, and Sir Robin soiled his armor. We finally agreed to keep her for a few days, and see how she was, and if she wasn't any better, we'd take her to a shelte where they don't euthanize the animals.

Well, she was terrified of me. She had CLEARLY been abused by a man, and she was terrified of men. "Great," I thought, "I'm going to be responsible for a dog who never lets me pet her. Terriffic."

And for the first 12 hours--wait, I know I'm not supposed to start a sentence with a conjunction. But I can't spell for shit, so why are you complaining now? Jeeze. Get off my back, Mrs. Lee [9th grade english teacher who flunked me because she said I couldn't write. I win.]--for the first 12 hours, she sat by the side door, never moving, never eating, just looking depressed. But somehow, my amazing wife loved this dog enough, and totally turned her around. Within 12 hours she was wagging her entire body, eating, chasing a tennis ball, and generally acting like a dog. And she let me pet her, and started following me everywhere around our house.

So we decided to keep her. But she needed a name...and that was very important. I wanted to give her a name from Mythology..."Athena" or "Psyche" or something. I know, lame. Deal. The kids wanted to name her "Haley", which didn't work for me at ALL, because in high school I had the most painful crush on a girl named Haley...so we decided that we'd try on different names for a few days, and the right one would reveal itself to us.

Anne comes home from work the next day, comes in the door, looks at me and says, "Ferris."


"Sort of. Save Ferris!"

Okay, there is this band from OC that we LOVE called Save Ferris. They play with our friends fairview a lot. They rule.

Anne says, "Get it? Save Ferris. I totally saved Ferris!"

I looked at the dog, looked at her sweet, marble eyes and soft little puppy-fuzzy-head, and it was perfect. Not surprising, considering that it came from my wife.

So her name is "Ferris".

Isn't that a cool story?





Mostly Harmless

Mostly Harmless

I can never think of clever, funny, or thoughtful titles for my entries. That bothers me. But then I think of New Order, one of my favorite bands from my youth...not a single one of their song titles had anything to do with the actual songs..."Blue Monday"..."Everything's Gone Green"...? So I think it takes some of the pressure off of me...which makes me think of something I realized about myself recently: I'm always in competition with myself...You know how you tell kids, "don't be so competitive with each other"? Well, I tell my step-kids that all the time...sometimes it is just not that important who wins at Yahtzee...sometimes...

Anyway, I was thinking, (bad idea), and it hit me: I am in a state of constant competition, with myself. It is impossible for me to be happy with anything I've done, and I always work hard to best my last effort...so being in a movie like Stand By Me when I'm 12 isn't exactly the best place to start...I've been trying to best that one for years. Somehow I think "The Curse" just didn't quite do it, do you?

I bring this competition thing up because tonight I rehearsed with my sketch comedy group for this big show we're doing at the huge Vegas 30th anniversary of Star Trek convention. I pulled together some of the best sketch comedians I know, who are also great improvisers, to do this show. I'm really excited about it, because the Star Trek fans are going to see something that they really don't expect.

So we're working on it tonight, at the ACME theatre, where I just finished a wonderful sketch show, that was really fun, and VERY well reviewed, if I say so myself, and I got to thinking about how hard I worked to get my funny in order for the show I did there, and the funny that I couldn't get together for the newest show (I'm not in it). And I realized something, I have to stop competing with myself, because either way, I'm not going to win...I mean, how do you beat yourself? (Well, other than the obvious, impure-thoughts way that seems to be so popular on the internet) Isn't there a movie where the hero can't fight the villian, because they're really the same person, and each knows what the other will do at any given time? Not Face/Off. I mean a good movie. If it wasn't, then someone should write one, dammit. And I want a free T-shirt from it. And I want to be invited to the premiere, but I won't show up. I'll be drunk at some skeevy bar around the corner...that'd be cool.

Sorry, I digress. I do that a lot.

Today, Anne and I cleaned out our entire kitchen. Top to bottom. Holy shit, the junk we've accumulated over the past year is staggering. Even more staggering were the hundreds of those icky meal-bugs that like to get into your flour and hang out. Gross. After we cleaned it out, I was standing in the kitchen, and the whole place just felt better...now stay with me here, because I know this sounds lame, but swear I could feel the energy just flowing better in there, you know? Like I'd cleaned out the place, so the Chi could flow more smoothly...or maybe I'd just left the gas on in the oven. I'm not sure.

Tonight, I rehearsed the show, and it went really well, all things considered. Like all great shows, we have not enough time, and not enough props and all that, but I think we're going to put on a great show, a show that we can be proud of. Hey, if it works, maybe we'll take it on the road, or something.

Oh, and if anyone cares, you can hear me on KXLU 88.9 FM here in LA, tomorrow night at 9PM PDT. Keith and I are promoting the charity J.Keith vanStraaten show that we're doing Thursday.

Some good news, mixed in amongst the bullshit: The guy who runs Surly Heckler emailed me about my first Killoggs post, and wanted to reprint it at his site, which is really cool, because his site is REALLY funny...I hope I don't become the butt of some cruel joke, though. And the guy who linked to me as hell offered some sort of I think apology, but I'm not sure.

I also found this really, really funny page...

and this really, really cool interview with the creator of quite possibly the greatest comic strip ever, Bloom County. I put Bloom right up there with Fox Trot and Doonesbury, next to The Far Side. I also just noticed that this dumb little site I made is currently number 1 at blogdex. I have no idea why, or what that means, but being number one on anything is really, really cool... and kinda weird. =/


I've gotten lots of cool emails from people since I left this afternoon. You know who you are, and you have touched me, again.

Not that way, sicko. In the good way.

Jeeze! That's not what I meant, either. God! Damn! Get your mind out of the gutter!

Sheesh. I'm going to sleep now.

Play nice.


Oh, stories I wanna tell: The origin of "Uncle Willie" the story of Ferris, and how Anne saved me from getting eaten by a bear.

August 26, 2001

My Velouria

My Velouria

First, I have been overwhelmed with the support, the kindness, and the sheer volume of comments, and emails regarding my last entry.

I have to say "Thank you" to everyone. It's simply amazing, how many different people, separated by distance, culture, carreer, and whatever, are feeling the same things I'm feeling. The amazing thing is, people said things to me that I've thought at one time or another, and forgotten...things about "risk" and things about "giving up". I thank you, all of you, from the bottom of my heart, for opening yourselves to me, and sharing with me your advice and experiences. I'd like to post them all, in the future, and share your wisdom with the masses.

Mixed in amongst the emails was one from my mom. My mom told me that she'd read my Weblog, and that she was "proud to have given birth to a person like me". She told me that she could feel my hurt, and that I should "be sure to cry all the tears, because the joy is waiting in the last tear."

So that's what I did. I went into my bedroom, sat on my bed, and this 29 year old man sobbed like an 8 year old child. Big sobs. The kind that hurt your throat. The kind that shake your body, and soak your face with tears. I cried so long, and so hard, I don't even know what I cried about. I cried for the hurt of losing the job, and for the hurt of being attacked by idiots who don't even know me. I cried for all the times I picked on my little brother when we were kids, and all the times I've sat here at my computer and let my wife go to bed alone while I worked on this site. I cried for every bad choice I've ever made, but mostly, I cried for myself. I cried, and when I thought I was done, I cried some more. Then, just as quickly as it started, it stopped. And I felt better.

Then I made the enormous mistake of checking my logs, so I could see where people are coming from, and thank them for linking to me and I found that some guy uses my site as "hell". Thanks, fucker.Some dude at metafilter says "I'm too good" to join them. Yeah, I can't wait to get into that shit. Please, can I join your little club, so you can hold me up to further villification, without ever getting to know me? Can I PLEASE spend even LESS time with my family, sitting here at this computer, so I can try to change the minds of people who are going to judge me no matter what, without EVER walking an inch in my shoes? So you didn't like my fucking character on a fucking tv show I haven't even worked on in ten. fucking. years. Thank you for blaming ME for the writing of a fictional character, on a fictional tv show. That makes complete sense, considering all the input the writers would take from a 15 year old kid. Have you ever bothered to ask? Did it ever occur to you that I just said the lines I was given? I'm sorry Wesley messed up your precious television show. Fortunately, there were whole seasons after I quit, without me. So you can watch them, and feel better. But don't take it out on me. I'm just an actor, doing the best job he could with what he was given. So I worked on a TV show. So I have made a living as an actor. Big deal. I'm no better than anyone else, and I have neversaid I was, or thought I was. I am just a geek, looking for validation from his fellow geeks.

Congratulations, sir. I'm glad that your empty, pathetic existence is made whole by shitting on a person who you've never even met.

You know, I promised myself that I wouldn't get into this. I promised myself that I wouldn't get sucked in to the mire with the lowest common denominators. Well, guess what, guys? I don't care if you're "The Guy From TV" or if you're "The kid from math class". Being personally attacked hurts. It sucks. I wonder, do you spend a fifth of the time you spend dumping on me doing something constructive with your life? I certainly hope so. You people are just like the people in High School who never took the time to get to know me, and judged me before I even showed up.

Aren't we mostly geeks here, online? Didn't we all, at one time or another, get bullied by "the cool kids"? Don't any of you remember what that felt like?

My mom said to me that she was amazed at how honestly I revealed my feelings. She said that I've always reacted in anger when I am hurt, and she didn't think I was angry. Well, I wasn't, but I am now.

So here's the deal, people: You can read this, or not, and you can see the stuff at my site, or not. But if you are going to judge me, me, the person, Wil, who gets up in the middle of the night when his kids are sick, and worries about making the bills this month, and tries to find time in the day to spend with his wife, and works his ass off for auditions that are going to go to the flavor of the month, anyway, well, you can fuck all the way off. Zip up your spacesuit, and hurry to the comic shop. Your weekly supply of "Magic" cards has just come in.

August 25, 2001

A look inside my mind

A look inside

I just got this email:

You're funny, you're smart, you have experiences that are go from ordinary to out-of and back and again, and yet...

...most of what you talk about is your friggin' website!

Talk about your day, what you ate for breakfast, rant and rave. But pretty please, make a separate section for the site updates,/*.phpl and greymatter coups, and the linking excitement. All of that is certainly worth keeping track of, but it doesn't communicate much about you.

So, I think that's a point well taken...here's some insight into my mind, because you asked for it:

I am fighting tears today, with each passing second. Why? Because the defining characteristic of my work as an actor the past few years has been, "It came down to you and another guy, and they went the other way." Translated, that means, "You didn't get the job." If I had a dollar for every time that's happened in the past 2 years, I could retire. It always seems to come down to me and one other guy, who usually is some flavor of the month, and they always hire the other guy. And you know what I hate? I always hear, "You are the best actor we've seen" or something similar...yet I always seem to lose to the guy with the perfect hair and the Kirk Douglas jaw. Let this be a lesson to you aspiring actors out there: being the best actor is NEVER enough.

Well, I took some classes a long time ago, and the teacher always admonished us to not let our jobs become our life, because when we don't work, and there are times when we won't, we'll freak out, because we don't know what to do with ourselves. It's advice I was unable to heed.

Here's something you may not know about me: I love acting. I love working, and creating, more than anything. I love it so much, I'm willing to suffer the extended periods of unemployment, and the constant rejection, as well as the constant attacks from people who really should either try this themsleves, or shut the fuck up.

Sorry, I digress. Back to point: Since yesterday, when I got the "It's you or another guy" phone call, I've been sliding deeper and deeper into depression, because if I can't get hired by MY FUCKING FRIEND, who practically promised me the part, I don't know what to do. I'm sorry, but I am getting so sick and tired of having a project dangled in front of me for weeks, and then having it yanked out from under me at the last second. It hurts. It hurts a LOT, and I don't know if you can understand the depth of the hurt, unless you're an artist or some sort. Because I think that type of rejection is really a personal one, regardless of what they say.

Put in typical, irreverent "Wilspeak" it's like this: you get hooked up with the hottest girl (or guy, if that's your thing), EVER. You're all naked, and ready to go. She's dancing around, telling you all the crazy shit she's gonna do to you, and how she's calling her sorority sisters over later, so you'd better stay ready. She's just about to jump you, and she tells you to close your eyes, and get ready. The next thing you hear is the slamming of the door, and the squealing of the tires as she drives away.

(You know what I'm thinking right now? Those morons who have some primal need to hate me are going to have a field day with this one, and I almost deleted it. Well, fuck them. You wanted to know what goes on in my head, and I want to share...I think I'll feel better when I'm done with this. I hope.)

So I felt like I was punched in the stomach. I feel hurt. This movie is going to be AMAZING. It is going to do AMAZING THINGS for the people who are in it, because Roger is an AMAZING writer and director. And I am this close to having a complete rebirth in my carreer, and it will only take one part to do that. This movie would do that for me. Roger asked me to play a junkie in this movie...if that doesn't shatter the image people seem to have of me, and get people to stop seeing me as 12 years old or in outer space, I don't know what will.

And this comes on the heels of some producers, for whom I suffered with the biggest asshole "director" (I put that in quotes because this guy couldn't direct traffic on a one was street) for NO MONEY on a movie that should have been great, because the script was brilliant. But it will suck now because the asshole will ruin it in post, these producers have jerked me around for 4 months with the promise of a project which will most likely never happen now. Thak Bob I have sketch comedy shows, and late night comedy talk shows to perform in, or I'd go crazy.

There's a chance that Roger will still cast me, and this whole entry and the awful way I've been feeling will be for nothing, and I'll look back at this and laugh, and I can get back to the normal me, who is too busy making jokes to feel sad.

But you wanted to know how I was feeling, and was was going on in my mind...well, there it is.

(And I will talk about my website, because I worked hard on it, and I knew nothing about/*.phpL or CSS or ANYTHING 6 weeks ago when I started it, so I'm proud of it, such as it is. )

A thought

A thought

The whole reason I made this site in the first place was so people could get to know *me*, not him or him...so I hope that's what I've been able to do here. Let me know if I blow it.

What an interesting morning

What an interesting morning

I've gotten all kinds of interesting things today...por ejemplo:

I was listed at blogdex!

Loren got it all set up, so I can reply to email directly!

I talked on IM with a cool guy, who's been on slashdot so long his number is 231!

The guys who did "Weeeeee!"asked me for a quote and banner. I never planned on anyone giving a shit about me, so I haven't made a banner...great. Time to learn how to make animated GIFs. (Hey, if Asia can do it, so can I!)

August 24, 2001

Quote of the day

Quote of the day

"I mean, there are people who DON'T VOTE that write to Star Trek to complain about phaser inconsistancies, for Christ's sake."

-Theatre's Rob Matsushita via Email

Here They Come

Here They Come

I guess there's just no pleasing some people.

But upon careful re-consideration, the bulk of the posts there are actually pretty cool, which is a big surprise to me. I dig it that people will stick up for "The Wilster"*

(I say that because some dude was very upset that I called myself "Uncle Willie". Har. :D)

Props & Shitty News


Check it out: I'm the "Blog of the day" at feeling listless.

Boy, now I really feel the pressure to not suck!

Shitty News

Just got off the phone with my agent, while I was making this entry. The casting director for Rules Of Attraction called this morning, and told us that "It's between Wil and another guy".

What the fuck? I wonder how I went from, "I want you in my movie" to "It's between you and another guy." I do know one thing, though, this isn't Roger's call. It's some fucking executive at some fucking studio.

Wow, the Universe sure does like balance, doesn't it?

6 Degrees of Memepool

Six Degrees Of Memepool

This morning, I got an email from my friend who lives in Boston. It said:

Dear Wil,

Is this yours? I came across it linked to a very strange site called memepool.com


How about that, eh? Six degrees of memepool.

Audition Update

Audition Update

If you've read the old weblog, you may remember an entry I made about some auditions. Here is the status of those auditions:

The Young Person's Guide To Being A Rockstar: I was "in the mix", which is Hollywoodspeak for "we're considering you until someone bigger comes along". Apparently, someone bigger came along.

Waiting...: I had the audition for this last week, and the casting director told me that the director has someone in mind, but she thought I did such a great job, she was going to send the director my tape, and try to change his mind. Since it's been a week, I guess he was pretty committed. However, this is one of the funniest movies I've ever read. Ever. I really hope the guy they cast gets gangrene (and recovers, of course), so that they call me and put me in it.

Rules of Attraction: This is my friend Roger Avary's movie, based on Brett Easton Ellis' novel. Roger and I have been friends since I worked on Mr. Stitch with him. We talked about three weeks ago, and Roger offered me the COOLEST ROLE EVER in the film, A Junkie Named Marc.

So Tuesday, I went in to read the part, I guess because the producers of the film are making everyone read (or, more likely, Roger wanted to be sure that I didn't suck, and is too nice a guy to say that to me).

Anyway, I went in a read, and I still haven't heard anything back...so....I dunno...guess I shouldn't be shopping for that PS2 just yet.



So now that the site is launched, I can talk about the horror of getting it all done, and stuff.

The past 6 weeks have been really fun, and really hard, too. My family has grown to lothe my computer, and I can't even mention IM to my poor wife...

My step-kids and I have this deal: whenever I curse, I give them a quarter. So if I'm walking into the house and stub my toe, and say, "Ow! Monkeyfucker!", and they hear me, they just chime, in unison, "Quarter, Wil!".

Let me tell you something, I've just tallied up how much I owe them for the past 6 weeks of site building...the little creeps are going to be able to buy a car!

So far, I haven't been overwhelmed with emails, but the ones that I have gotten have been SO COOL!

Everyone has had really nice things to say, and lots of people have offered help, and advice. So to you guys, and you know who you are, Thank you!!

A note on the Email situation: we've been able to set it up so that it gets delivered right to me, but right now it's working as a relay, so I can't reply to anyone. But I'm talking with the cool guys who host me, and we're gonna fix it.

In the mean time, please enjoy the autoresponse. :)

Bowling for Booty

Bowling for Booty

Last night, my brother's fiancee had a party for him at this REALLY cool bowling alley, near where we grew up. The place only has 8 lanes, and you have to keep score yourself on little sheets of acetate, which get projected up onto the wall...Jeremy decided that he wanted to have a pirate theme, so he called his party "Bowling for Booty", and made everyone wear eye patches. He also played the ride music from "Pirates of the Carribbean" over and over. And over.

It was really fun. Jeremy's 25 now.

August 23, 2001

The New Site Is Open!

The New Site Is Open!

Holy crap!! In 6 weeks, I've gone from knowing nothing about HTML and using the lame Yahoo! PageBuilder, to building my own site, using php and modifying entire scripts.

This weblog will no longer be updated. Go to the new weblog, and see what's up!

Where is my mind?

This site was last updated on Wednesday, 28 November 2001 at 6:21 PM PST.

If this is your first time here, please read this.

If you're a Star Trek fan, you'd probably like the saga of SpongeBob Vega$Pants.

I had an old weblog, that I kept at the old site. If you want to read that, it's here. I even left the old, ugly styles, so you can see how far I've, er, come, or something.

An Entry for Ashley

Where's my milkshake?

Heaven Isn't Too Far Away

Heaven Isn't Too Far Away

I have completed every section of the new site, except the online store.

I'll be sending out an Email to everyone in my address book (if you've mailed me before, you're there) when it opens...

Truth: I am really excited.

I am going to leave this site up, so new people can see the evolution of my skills between the two sites, and so I never forget how lame I am when I start to think I know a thing or two about scripting.

Now I just have to learn how to make the old index page say "we've moved" and automatically push you to the new site...but not now. Now, I sleep.


August 22, 2001

Cool Emails Since I got

Cool Emails

Since I got listed on memepool, I've gotten lots of emails.

Surprisingly, all of them were cool. I was really expecting people to be shitty to me.

Here are a couple of them, that made me smile:

so. i randomly found your blog on blogger. i like burritos. i clicked on it. i found no burritos. i was somewhat disappointed.


are you the actual wil wheaton? i think you may
be...because i clicked around your site for a while.
it was sort of surreal. because i used to have
pictures of you on my wall when i was in junior high
school. my dad was a total trekkie, and always used to
force me to watch it with him all the time. your
presence was the only redeeming quality. not to
mention the fact that "stand by me" is still one of my
favorite movies of all time. i haven't seen it on tbs
in quite some time; but thankfully i have it on video.

do you get this sort of thing all the time? i
apologize. this is probably quite annoying.

this has been a very, very odd afternoon.

my name is sharon, by the way. hi. :)


Hi Wil,

I saw your site linked up on Memepool. I wanted to
let you know that you were a great role model for me
about ten years ago when I was a young thirteen year
old geek who didn't fit in too well. I tuned in to
Star Trek every Friday evening and the reruns too so
that I could watch a geek who was actually celebrated
and not picked on for it.

I'm now a technical writer at a software company and
am very happy to be who I am - a geek. :)

I was really glad to see your site. I looked for it
about ten years ago when I first got online with a
modem measured in bps (hee hee). I wish you the best
of luck in comedy and whatever your future endevors
may be.



Dear Wil,
I've always wanted to somehow tell you how much I enjoyed your work in the
movie Stand by Me and what that movie meant to me while I was growing up.
When I was a teenager, life in high school was not that fun. In many ways, I
was like Chris Chambers. One of the things Gordie says to Chris is "You can
do anything you want to man." I always took that to heart and now I' m
working my way through college and look forward to a career in political
science. Stand by Me taught me to look beyond where I was and look at what
could be. It gave me hope and got me through those turbulent teen years.
I just wanted to thank you for your sensitive portrayal of Gordie and how he
knew Chris could be better than everyone thought he was.
I also enjoyed your work on Star Trek: The Next Generation. Wesley was a good
example of what young people could do if given the chance. Would you ever
reprise your role in a Star Trek movie?
Since I don't live in L.A. and can't enjoy your current endevour, do you have
anything coming out on a national scale soon?
Finally, happy belated birthday from a fellow Leo (August 11,1972)!
Thanks for reading and keep up the good work.
Vanessa Penick
P.S. Great bio on the website. Pretty funny. :)

August 21, 2001

It's Starting Again Somebody made

It's Starting Again

Somebody made an entry at Memepool about my site, and stuff.

"Wil Wheaton, often vilified for his role as Star Trek's Wesley Crusher, has grown up to have a bit of time on his hands."

I wonder if "They" will start dumping a ton of shit on me again?

New Site Update It is

New Site Update

It is currently 3AM here in wonderful Los Angeles, and I present to you the following facts:

My wife is out of town

I have been sitting at my computer almost all day. The most recent session started at about 830 last night.

I arm hurts so badly, I can hardly hold my mouse.

Put it all together, and you can only reach one conclusion: That's right, I am 2 pages away from completing the new site, and opening it for your surfing pleasure.

Time for bed.

August 20, 2001

Where The Hell Have I

Where The Hell Have I Been?

So I was reviewing my entries, and I noticed that I left all these promises of stories open, unfulfilled, like so many prom-night expectations...

Well, I'll tell you why: I have been working on the new site, non-stop, since I posted my last entry, and it is about 90% complete, and will be open before Friday the 24th.

But here is something fun for you to do: you can read the greatest interview I've ever done.
I did this for Ain't It Cool News on my birthday last year. If you wanted to know what life with Uncle Willie is like, read this interview.

And keep checking the new new site...


How cool is this?

I always joke about how I am going to use my "power of celebrity" for good, not evil.

Usually I say that to the girl who's giving me a lapdance. I like incongruity.

I just got this Email, and I think it rules:

"Dear Wil,

I've always wanted to somehow tell you how much I enjoyed your work in the

movie Stand by Me and what that movie meant to me while I was growing up.

When I was a teenager, life in high school was not that fun. In many ways, I

was like Chris Chambers. One of the things Gordie says to Chris is "You can

do anything you want to man." I always took that to heart and now I' m

working my way through college and look forward to a career in political

science. Stand by Me taught me to look beyond where I was and look at what

could be. It gave me hope and got me through those turbulent teen years.

I just wanted to thank you for your sensitive portrayal of Gordie and how he

knew Chris could be better than everyone thought he was.

I also enjoyed your work on Star Trek: The Next Generation. Wesley was a good

example of what young people could do if given the chance. "

Now, I can't take credit for all of that, because I just said the words that were given to me...but it still makes me feel pretty good. :)

August 19, 2001

Closer, ever closer

So tonight I finished the "foundation" of the new site: I built all the pages, and got myself all hooked up with a style sheet that I actually like.

AND! I am pretty happy with the way I edited the Greymatter templates.

All that I have left to do, really, is just add the content (some from the old site, some new stuff), get the store configured and open, and then I'm ready to go!

I think that once I get some press, and get hooked up on some search engines, this site will really take off.


Going to sleep now.

Site Building Update

Today, I created the frameset, set the style sheet, and got the basic structure of the site laid out.

Now I have to add all the content, and get the store running.

I've reached a plateau on editing the Greymatter templates, but I'm close to getting past it.

August 17, 2001

Major New Site Update Today,

Major New Site Update

Today, I moved much closer to opening the cool, ad-free, new website!

I even made a cool flash animation for the placeholder page, all by myself.

I think the styles on the current index page are what I'm going to be using sitewide once we open.

Check it out, and let me know what you think.

August 16, 2001

First Post Hey kids.

First Post

Hey kids. I finally made my First Post at Killoggs.

Now you know, and knowing is half the battle.

(I have a prize for anyone who can tell me what that is from.)*

*Promises to award prizes will not be honored

August 14, 2001

The J.Keith van Straaten Show

The J.Keith van Straaten Show Returns!

I am the sidekick on a VERY cool late night talk show.
We've been on hiatus for a few months, but now we're coming back!

Here's the details. If you're gonna be in LA, come to the show, and meet me afterwards!!!

*Mark Your Calendars!! Save The Date!!*
*Primetime Special Benefit Show!*
*Thursday, August 30 ~ 8pm!!*

That's right, The J. Keith van Straaten Show, "the best TV talk show not on TV ...yet," invites you to put down the shotgun and regain a sense of hope and wonder, as we return for our first show of 2001! Yep, it's been eight whole months since we left the stagewaves and now we've got a great reason to come back: J. Keith is in training to run a marathon to raise money for AIDS Project Los Angeles. Let that sink in for a minute: J. Keith....marathon....raise money.... Believe it, baby! It's all true! So this next show is a charity fundraiser, which means we're pulling out all the stops we can find! Deluxe accomodations and surprises galore!

More details will come your way soon, but meanwhile, make sure you hire the babysitter and put it in your Palm Pilot now for Thursday August 30 at 8pm. This is a show you won't want to miss!

ADVANCED TICKETS WILL BE REQUIRED - They will be available online soon at www.jkeith.net!

Here's what we know so far...

Scheduled Guests for Thursday, August 30:

(A Partial List. More guests will be announced, and some will be a surprise!)

*KEVIN NEALON - 9-year cast member of "Saturday Night Live"

*NINA GORDON - Singer/Songwriter, formerly of rock band Veruca Salt

*RICK OVERTON - The comedian's comedian and longtime friend of the show

*WIL WHEATON - Your ship's purser. (note that Keith didn't say "Ensign"...I have a better rank on thisshow, baby!)

...plus the triumphant return of house band ADAM & THE CHESTERS (featuring ADAM CHESTER).

Come see the Good Cause Funny!


WHAT: The J. Keith van Straaten Show
"The Best TV Talk Show Not on TV ...yet!"

WHERE: ACME Comedy Theatre, 135 N. La Brea Ave., Hollywood
(1/2 block south of Beverly Blvd., next door to Farfalla)

WHEN: Thursday, August 30, 8pm


SHOW HOTLINE: Call 310-289-2345 for more information.

WEBSITE: http://www.jkeith.net

Please note: The public is encouraged to call the show hotline or visit our website for the most up-to-date information, including currently scheduled guests.



The AIDS Marathon, run on December 9, 2001, will be J. Keith's first endeavor into the world of long distance running --or any distance running, for that matter. The marathon raises money to support AIDS-related causes all over the country. Sponsoring J. Keith will help raise needed funds for AIDS Project Los Angeles. Contributions and ticket purchases will be tax-deductible to the fullest extent of the law.

For more information, please visit www.aidsmarathon.com or www.apla.org


Thanks! With your support, I'm really going to run 26.2 miles, and raise money to help people living with AIDS! That rocks!

Your best friend in the world,

J. Keith van Straaten
The J. Keith van Straaten Show
The Best TV Talk Show Not on TV ...yet!
"Best of L.A.!" --Los Angeles Magazine / "Pick of the Week" --LA Weekly / "Best Bet" --LA Times
www.jkeith.net ~ 310-289-2345


Dodger Baseball I am a

Dodger Baseball

I am a HUGE baseball fan. I play. I watch. I listen. I kick the computers ass on PlayStation MLB2001.

And I go to the games, most often with my mom and dad, because they have seats two rows above the Dodger dugout. As a matter of fact, you can see us in the background whenever a right-handed batter is up, if we are at the game.

There is a GREAT story about why we have the seats, which I'll tell you another time.

Well, dad took Anne and me to the game tonight, so we could watch Chan Ho Park throw a perfect game through 4, a no hit shutout through 7, and leave the game with a 3 hit shutout in the 8th.

Of course, these are the Dodgers we're talking about here, so they only managed 1 run while stranding 13 runners over 8 innings, so when Jim Tracy brought in our "closer" Jeff Shaw, we weren't heading for the parking lot, confident of a Dodger victory.

So Shaw comes in, Expos (yeah, I forgot to mention that, we were playing the Montreal Expos) get 4 quick runs, and the Dodgers lose, 4-1.

Take me out to the ballgame!

Question I've gotten a few


I've gotten a few comments from people that the blog is hard to read.

When you read this, and I'm talking specifically to you, okay? When you read this, would you post a comment or send me an Email, so I know?


Kids Are Cool Tonight, while

Kids Are Cool

Tonight, while I was sitting here, cursing up a storm while I tried to get the new site closer to operation, my step kids decided that they wanted to watch The Mummy on DVD.

So I told them that they could, but Ryan had to shower before he could start it, and Nolan would have to wait for him.

So Ryan runs off to his room, (kids have two speeds at 12: the excited run and the sullen stalk), and shouts back to Nolan, "Make some popcorn!"

Nolan looks at me, and says, "I'm really burnt out on popcorn, Wil."

"So just make some for Ryan," I replied, "that would be a really cool thing to do."

So he goes into the kitchen, (he hasn't hit the 2 speed phase yet) and gets out the popcorn (I can't endorse Newman's Own enough- it rules, and the profits go to charity, so we all win).

I sit back at the computer, trying to make the new site look less lame (it's not coming along as well as I'd like, dammit), and Nolan calls to me from the kitchen.

"Wil! There's a lot of smoke coming out of the microwave!"

I get up, and as I get closer to the kitchen, I recognize that smell that is so familiar to college dorms...no, not weed, jackass. The smell of burnt microwave popcorn.
Nolan is standing there, looking so perplexed, like he can't figure out what is wrong with the microwave. So I stop it, and asked him how long it's been in there, and he tells me 4 minutes, because that's what it says on the bag. Now, whenever I make it, it's 2 minutes 25 seconds. I've gotten it figured out. But I somehow didn't pass that knowledge on to the next generation, and now, at 2:50 am, my house STILL smells like burning popcorn!

Well, Ryan comes out of his room, and Nolan looks crestfallen.

"Ryan, I ruined the popcorn, and it was the last one." He says, looking like a puppy who's just been caught chewing up your Boba Fett that was still in the blister pack.

Ryan looks at me, and back to his upset little brother, and he totally says, "That's okay, Nolan, I'll eat it anyway."

So we open the bag, and take out a black ball of burning popcorn, toss it into the sink, and Ryan pours the rest of the popcorn into our popcorn bowl. (You see, when you're married, all of a sudden you get all this stuff that only has one use. Like The Popcorn Bowl, or The Water Glasses. I don't know about you, but when I was a bachelor, I only had 2 bowls and about 5 glasses, and they pulled serious double and triple duty.)

Sorry. Tangent.

So Ryan ends up sitting on the couch, eating the totally burnt popcorn, and all was right with the world.

See what I mean about kids being cool? Nolan made the effort to do something for his brother, and Ryan made the effort to appreciate it, even at his own peril.

I wish adults were more like that.

August 13, 2001

New Site News! I haven't

New Site News!

I haven't gotten around to posting any of the other stories about the weekend, or the Tahoe stories, because I've been working on the new site all day.

I'll tell ya, without the visual quickstart guides, I'd be even lamer than I already am.

So here is the big news! I finally installed, uploaded and configured a message board for the new site!!


The templates haven't been changed from the default, because I haven't decided what the new site will look like, yet, but you can check it out, and I'm pretty sure you can post there, if you want to.

Just remember that it's still considered BETA. (I'm working on a VHS version)


August 12, 2001

Archives Just a little news


Just a little news item here: I'm having blogger only display the last 10 day's worth of ramblings, to cut down on page loading times. If you wanna see the older stuff, just click archives, and read away.

Because Reading Is Fundamental.

And knowing is half the battle!

Liberating You know what's liberating?


You know what's liberating? Putting the webcam on the lavalamp, then standing behind it in my underwear.

Free Dimitry I'm working on

Free Dimitry

I'm working on some other stuff right now, but I just saw this webpage. I've followed Dimitry's story for awhile, and I think everyone should be pretty pissed off about what's being done to this guy.

Procrastination Look at me! I'm


Look at me! I'm a cowboy! Howdy, howdy, howdy!

Anyone remember that from The Far Side? It was one of my favorites when I was in school.

Well, kids, it's too damn hot today to do anything but stay inside, and since my house is such a complete and utter disaster, I'm putting off cleaning it up, and bringing the old Burrito Blog up to date. I'm going to go in reverse order, starting with last night's excursion for Anne's birthday, yesterday afternoons Improv show, and yesterday morning's meeting with Roger. Then I'll give up the promised stories from the Tahoe trip.

I really need to get a digital camera, so I can include cool picture links in these stories, don't you think?

Before I get started, I want to clarify something, so you can understand a little something about your Sweet Uncle Willie:

I hate, and I mean hate places like "the mall" or these big shopping/dining/consumption oriented places, like The Bock At Orange, and The Irvine Spectrum. I'd MUCH rather go to a little community-oriented street fair or shopping district, and give my money to and spend time around real people, rather than big corporate behemoths.

But Anne's friend Michelle lives near Irvine, and there is this one cool place there, so I sucked it up, and met them, and our friend Stephanie (who introduced me to and Anne) for dinner, and entertainment.

Dinner, or When The Waiter Came, I said "eww! Look! The waiter came!"

The plan was to meet Anne and the girls at The Cheesecake Factory, but I guess the wait there was 45-70 minutes. 45-70 minutes?! does anyone really want to wait that long for a seat in a restaurant? Sure, at Hooters I can understand that, but at The Cheesecake Factory?

I guess the girls all felt the same way, so they went to some place called "Champps Americana", which is sort of a sportsbar/micro-brewery/I'm-having-a-mid-life-crisis-and-I-want-to-eat-at-a-place-like-the-ones-I-went-to-in-college place.

So we get seated, and we're ordering, and, right in the middle of Anne giving her order, the waiter cuts her off, points towards me, and says, "Hey! The kid from Stand By Me!"...Now, whenever that happens, I don't quite know what to say. Should I jump up and shout "Traaiiiiinnnn!" or tell him a story, or what? I never know how to handle that...I don't want to say, "Yes! You are correct, sir! Now please treat me differently the entire course of our meal, for I am from movies!". So there's this tiny, uncomfortable pause, and my friend Stephanie follows the waiter's pointing finger, over my shoulder and says, "You know, I think that is Corey Feldman, right over there!" And we all laughed, and it was okay.

So we're waiting for our dinner to come, and waiting, and waiting, and getting hungrier and hungrier, and this runner finally comes by with some food. He sets Steph's ribs down in front of her, and as he's leaning over, he dumps a huge, Ron Jeremy-sized load of alfredo juice all down the shoulder and back of my cool fairview t-shirt! Suddenly, he realizes two things: The food is not ours, it goes to the table next to us, and he just spooged pasta sauce all over my back. So what does he do? He picks up the ribs, says NOTHING about my back! Nothing at all! Not even, "sorry" or "who's your daddy, wesley?"

So this is a huge mess down my back, and it takes two napkins to wipe it all off...and Stephanie says, "The lest he could have done is bought you dinner before he came on your back." And my wife says, "Yeah, now you are totally his bitch."

I realize that some of you are having your image of sweet little Gordie and uber-square Wesley completely shattered right now, but I think it's best that you get to know the real me sooner than later, that way it won't hurt so badly when we break up.

Okay, back to the story: FINALLY, our food comes, and it is brought to us by the manager. So I see this guy in a tie coming over, and I think, "Sweet! This turkey burger is on the house!"

He sets our food down, apologizes for the wait, and leaves!! He doesn't even acknowledge the stain down my back! Now, maybe he didn't know....I can't imagine this conversation:

Runner: Uh, sir? I just came on the back of Tv's Wil Wheaton
Manager: Good job, Darryl! I always hated Wesley Crusher anyway!

But you know what I really think? I think the huge, corporate, "sportsbar/micro-brewery/I'm-having-a-mid-life-crisis-and-I-want-to-eat-at-a-place-like-the-ones-I-went-to-in-college place" doesn't care about your Uncle Willie, and you know why? Because he isn't the target audience. He wasn't wearing penny loafers without socks and corduroy shorts. He didn't have a ponytail, and he wasn't drinking Smirnoff Ice when the Zima ran out!!

Oh well. The food wasn't too bad, and the waitstaff did come and sing "Happy Birthday" to my wife...and our waiter was pretty cool...he could keep up with our sarcasm and jokes and stuff...Oh, and there were lots of interesting people to watch while we ate...which reminds me, and get out a pencil and write this down, people: Just because they make a babydoll t-shirt that says "sexy" in rhinestone across the chest in a size 18 doesn't mean anyone should wear it! Because, damn, man, dimples, okay? Okay.

Is anyone still with me?

The next place we went was actually really really cool:

Sing Sing With A Swing

"Sing Sing" is a cool piano bar, where 2 guys sit at facing pianos and sing popular tunes and stuff. It is really rowdy, kinda raunchy, and super fun. They play all sorts of songs, from blink 182 to elvis to freebird (because skynard isn't really a band anyway, they're just that one song, and 'sweet home alabama', right? Oh! interesting fact about skynard: their high school guidence counsellor told them that they'd never make it as a rock band. His name? Leonard Skynard. No shit. And the guy who started FedEx? He presented the idea as a thesis in college, and he professor gave him a terrible grade, because "this will never work." So let that be a lesson to you. Don't let anyone tell you what you can't do. Unless it's me, and I'm telling you to stop wearing those damn babydoll t-shirts, okay? Okay.)

So there is much singing, much dancing, and a very eclectic crowd, which is rare in cookie-cutter Orange County. And they take requests, so we request "Jesse's Girl" and "Don't Stop Believin'"...and they played them, and the whole place went CRAZY! It was really cool. If you can find a Sing-Sing near you, check it out.

Okay, I'm posting this, so I can work on the Improvathon story, and the meeting with Roger story, before I get into the Tahoe saga.

I am spending entirely too much time on this weblong and website thing. I really need to get a life. Or a job. Or a ride to the arcade.

August 10, 2001

A/S/L I wonder if anyone


I wonder if anyone wants to bug me in realtime? If you do, try ICQ 126829884.

Or AOL IM tvswilwheaton.

You know what's super lame?
Besides my website, jackass.

I had an ICQ number under 100,000. But I can't remember what it was, and I can't remember what the password was anyway.


Bendependent Ben is a really,


Ben is a really, really cool guy. He's also a really great artist, and has a great sense of humor.

He draws all the heads for Killoggs, and he does really funny animations, too.

You must see this right now.

Lefty I'm left-handed, and it's


I'm left-handed, and it's really influenced the way I live my life. See, I pride myself on living outside of the mainstream. I don't want to be part of the teeming masses.

I must be different.
I must be anti-.

But being left handed has sort of...uh...shaded...that desire a little bit. I realized that this morning, as I was responding to Email about my PDA, which is a Palm, rather than a Visor.

I've got a Palm, but it's looking more and more like the cool kids have a handspring. See, I got a Palm because I am left handed. Let me explain: being a lefty, once a year, as a child, I'd walk into the sporting goods store, and walk past aisle after aisle of right-handed gloves on my way to the half of a shelf of left-handed gloves. And I would pick over the dusty gloves that I didn't pick last year. Or the year before.

I had a Mac way back in the day (it was a 128), and I would go to the software store, and walk past aisle after aisle of PC software, past "Doom" and "SimEverything" on my way to the Mac shelf on the back, where I would look excitedly at "MacDraw" and "MacPaint". So when it was time to buy a PDA, I went in and said "I want the most widely used one."

It's the only time I've been willing and eager to be part of the masses.

But I think I want to be one of the cool kids, now. Or at least pretend that I am.

Wesley is Dead, Long Live Wesley!

Indie sent me a really entertaining email while I was /away, and she mentioned to me that she started the "Wesley doesn't suck" thread on this message board. Indie sounds really cool, and her website is cool too. And I'm not just saying that because she said "Wesley Crusher was sexy".

So there.

Mini Vans Slorge makes

Mini Vans

Slorge makes my point about minivans:
On minivans, the thing minivans have going for them...is that they look like shuttle craft from Star Trek! Especially now with the TV/vcr combo's, Onstar systems, radar detectors, cel phones, etc., You've practically got a bridge on that ship.
Great. Just ^%@#*ing great. So I drove over 18 hours in a $%!ing shuttlecraft. I do not have the words to express how mortified I am

August 9, 2001

Home At Last Hey gang.

Home At Last

Hey gang. I'm back home from my wife's birthday trip to Tahoe.

Holy crap, we had so much fun. If many of you were noticing that, in the last few days, you haven't been having any fun, it's our fault. We were having, to quote my step-son, "all the fun!"

There's too much to put up now, because, even though I've been in the car for nine hours, I'm getting ready to have a meeting with Roger Avary about The Rules Of Attraction. Hopefully, when I return tonight, I'll be able to tell you all about our trip, including:

  • The Rafting Trip
  • Swimming To The Pontoon
  • The Bear

  • And I'll be able to slip in some really good news, somthing along the lines of "I got a cool part in the movie!"

    So be good, and Uncle Willie will tell you a story when he gets back.

    And a big "thanks!" (That'll be really funny once you see Lifegame) to the 7 of my beloved friends who sent me email while I was gone.


    August 4, 2001

    Vacation I know this


    I know this is going to upset you, but somehow I know you'll find a way to struggle through... your Uncle Willie is heading out of town for a week, and won't have net access.

    Okay, okay, stop your cryin', or I'll give you something to cry about!

    It's Mrs. Uncle Willie's birthday, and we're heading up to fabulous Lake Tahoe with the kids and the dog. Sounds great, right?
    Hold on a sec...we're going up there in ...a minivan.

    That's right. A mini-van. We had to rent a bigger car, so we could fit all our crap and the Ferris' crate...and rather than get something sort of cool like a lame SUV, we got a mini-van. I'm driving for 8 hours in a minivan.

    I am so lame.

    Let's talk about minivans for a second, shall we? Is there another mode of transportation, not regularly used by the Amish, that is more lame? When I see a minivan, I think, "That person's just given up. they've reached their goal in life of having the 3.5 kids, the dog and the coveted PTA membership."

    There's nothing more sad to me than seeing some dude, who you can tell used to be cool, or some woman, who was probably a hottie at one time, behind the wheel of a Ford Aerostar, the bumper covered with a protective layer of "my kid was the student of the month" bumper stickers, the windows smeared with greasy little kid handprints, and the sad, mournful sound of "Radio Disney" blaring out of the open windows.

    The mini-van that we got is the Dodge Caravan. It's the one with the easily removable seats. Last night, Anne and I were moving the seats out, and it was much easier than I thought it would be, and I caught myself thinking "This is kinda cool"....suddenly, and without warning, I screamed "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" My wife looked at me, terror in her eyes, and asked what was wrong.
    "I thought, for a millisecond, that there was something cool about this van."
    My wife walked around the minivan, came close to me, and punched me full in the mouth.
    "Don't ever think something like that again."
    "Thank you."

    So I won't be able to update the site, obviously, and all that stuff that I wanted to do before I left town, like get the new site up and running, and opening the store and all that won't happen until I get home.

    But! Have no fear! I have a cool site for you to check out until I get back. It's called "Killoggs". It's a very cool blogging site, created by the amazing bendependent and loren

    Have a great weekend and week, and play nice. Don't make me turn this minivan around, because I'll do it.

    August 3, 2001

    Comments! Hey kids. I


    Hey kids. I am working really hard on getting the new site up, but it's a lot harder than I thought.
    Just part of being lame, I guess. But have no fear! I'm off the the book store to get a new HTML book. Hopefully, one which will actually help, rather than confuse.

    Failing that, I'm gonna bite the bullet and resort to using frontpage.

    Relax, Mae Ling...

    But here is some cool news! I think I've gotten it set up so anyone can comment on my ramblings here.

    Have fun, kids.


    August 2, 2001

    Screenshots You must go


    You must go here. Right now.

    Auditions Tuesday was my step-son's


    Tuesday was my step-son's 12th birthday.

    It was also the first time in 3 months that I'd had an audition. (Apparently, a bunch of jackass producers, working for vertically integrated, multi-national media conglomerates were afraid that the writer's guild and the screen actor's guild may want to stop work, so that we can all make a living wage, so they didn't "green light" any new projects. Go figure.

    So, things have been tough the past few months. Money has been tight, and I've been super bored. If I hadn't had my kick ass sketch comedy show to look forward to, I probably would have ended up on the sidewalk in front of the Viper Room.

    Just kidding. Jeeze, lighten up.

    So the first call is at 11:15 am, to be a regular on this WB show called "The Young Person's Guide To Being A Rockstar". It's to play a gay drummer. (Why does everyone think I'm gay?). The second call is at 4:45 pm, for a movie called "waiting...", that is just about the funniest ^%$#ing script I've read in over a year.

    So, I'm completely excited, but I'm torn, too, since I have way too much free time right now, and I would like to work. (You know, actors are the only people who are unhappy when they're not working. Unlike most "normal" people, who can't wait for a break from work...) The only problem was, Tuesday was Ryan's birthday, and I was really torn about what to do. I need to work, and I really like both of these projects, but I really wanted to be part of Ryan's 12th birthday party, which was a trip to the beach with some of his friends.

    So I went over and over it, and made the tough choice to take the auditions, and see Ryan that evening.
    Well, on my way to the first audition, I got a call from my agent, and she told me that the afternoon session was cancelled! So I went from my first audition (Where I kicked ass, thank you very much- I'm told that I'm "in the mix" which is hollywoodspeak for "we're considering you") to the beach. I must have been quite the vision in my jeans, skechers and black socks, walking down the sand.

    Long story short, it was awesome. We skim boarded, played football and wiffleball, and barbecued hot dogs in the parking lot, which was majorly against the beach parking lot rules (yes! breakin' the law! breakin' the law!).

    When we got back, I had email waiting for me from my friend Roger Avary. Roger is one of the coolest people on earth, and a fucking rad writer and director. (yes, that's right, I have a potty mouth. Deal.) Roger won an Academy Award for writing "Pulp Fiction", and is pretty much responsible for everything good the Tarantino has ever taken credit for. Roger also wrote and directed my absolute favorite movie that I've ever worked on, Mr. Stitch. So to get back to my point: I emailed Roger, because he's doing a new movie, and I asked him if I could be in it, because he is the most fun director EVER, and always makes good movies. So he emails me back, and tells me, "of course" and sends me the script (which ^%$@*ing ROCKS, by the way) and we're hooking up this week.

    So I've got that going for me, which is nice.

    That's all for right now, kids. I'm going back to work on the new, improved, easy-to-remember website!

    How about some email for your uncle willy?

    August 1, 2001

    Conventions Okay, some of


    Okay, some of you aren't Star Trek fans, and you guys must think Star Trek Cons are uber-geek-fests. Well, you're right.

    But they're cool, too, believe it or not. I think it's super cool that there's a place for any subculture, be it hackers, soap opera nuts, gamers, drama geeks, or whatever to hang out. Not that I'm in a huge rush to run out and buy a space suit, you understand...

    Well, I do some conventions from time to time. It's really fun to have an audience to entertain, and most of the audience is really cool. Of course, some people just aren't going to be happy with me, no matter what, but what are you gonna do?

    Well, I recently did this convention in Waturbury, CT. It was the first convention I'd done in close to 7 years, and I was REALLY nervous about not sucking. I even did something I never do: I did it sober.

    Just kidding. I just wanted to see if you were still with me. Anyway, I did something that I never do: I prepared a little list of "stuff I want to talk about", so if I lost the audience I knew that I had a place to pick them back up...but it turned out that I didn't need it, because they liked me! They really liked me!

    Okay, enough of this stupid preamble...here is the point of this post: I found a review of my appearence on USENet, and it made me feel really good about myself. So I wanted to share it with all of you:

    From: Shammie ([email protected]) Subject: The best part of the Con Newsgroups: alt.tv.star-trek.next-gen Date: 2001-03-04 08:24:54 PST

    By far the most stand-out, entertaining, enjoyable section of the entire event
    that I attended yesterday at http://www.sfedora.com/waterbur.htm
    I am not makiing this up, I am not trolling, I am not kidding:
    Wil Wheaton!!! OMG, he RULES as a speaker/guest!

    Before he even got on stage, the director of the event introduced him and
    actually warned us, as if we were little children, now please be polite and
    remember that this is Wil's first con appearance in 8 years because of bad
    experiences of people not separating him from the Wesley Crusher character.
    (Later on we found out that 8 years ago, he was not only booed on stage, but he
    actually had death threats!!)

    Well, there was no need for this warning whatsoever, because from the moment
    this vivacious, hilarious, charismatic, 28-year-old cutie bounded on stage, he
    had us in the palm of his hand!! I cannot begin to describe how absolutely
    captured every single one of us was, we were laughing every other minute and he
    was so engaging even when he wasn't being funny!! I am now a huge Wil Wheaton
    fan and so are 300 other Trekkers that were there. We gave him a loud standing

    OK, just a few things that he talked about, but I can't possibly begin to
    capture the wonderful energy that exuded from him. Well, after he left TNG, he
    left acting and moved to Kansas. "Not a good idea" he says. He said going from
    LA, a 24-hour-a-day city to Topeka was like moving to a 78-minute city. He was
    in the computer industry. "I am a geek. I'm extremely proud of that fact."
    Well, then he left the computer business and went to drama school. He is
    married about a year now with 2 step-kids (children of his wife), back in
    entertainment, performing "sketch comedy" with a group. He is HiLARious.

    He left Star Trek on what he thought were good terms, but he found out later
    that apparently that wasn't the case. When he mentioned Rick Berman's name, he
    stuck his finger down his throat in a gag-me gesture. He said it is very
    unlikely that he'll be involved in any Star Trek ever again. He was not
    satisfied with how they wrote him out, though. Said he wished he had gone out
    in some shuttlecraft explosion. [pause] "Because it would have ensured my
    return." LOL!

    He talked about an Outer Limits ep that he did where he plays a bad guy and
    drops a doomsday bomb on the world and destroys all of humanity. He said that
    he thought that really balanced out all the times that Wesley saved the ship.
    "So get off my back, huh?" We all cracked up big time.

    He said he would have LOVED to have had a cameo in Galaxy Quest as a crazed fan
    being right in the face of the kid telling him how much he hated him on the
    show! ROFL! Man we laughed for several minutes.

    Then he said, ooh, they should have had me back as the Traveler so I could go
    to DS9 and make it interesting. hahaha we laughed, but some fan in a wheelchair
    said hey for some of us who can't get out, DS9 was very comforting, or some
    mumbo jumbo like that. Wil mumbles (so we can all hear him). "Note to self - no
    more jokes about DS9, could get ugly."

    When asked about all the negative letters etc against Wesley, he told us quite
    frankly that it hurt a lot and he took it personally. He said he made the
    mistake of trying to reason with people and get them to understand. He said
    people would blame him, a 14-year-old, for some of his lines and actions,
    instead of going to the writers. One time, he had some really pompous-sounding,
    major technobabble stuff he had to say, and he actually called up TPTB asking
    them please, PLEASE don't make me say that. I can only imagine the torment the
    poor kid must have had to endure. :-((((( It just really struck me.

    He talked about River Phoenix and what a junkie he was and got on a small soap
    box about how any one of the people surrounding him could have saved him by
    getting him go into rehab, but that they are all such ass-kissers in Hollywood
    and *everything* but everything is about money.

    Then he felt bad that he brought us all down, so he closed by telling us of his
    fondest memory on TNG. They were all on the bridge shooting a scene where they
    are getting bonked by the Borg. They were preparing to do the biggest "shake"
    they had ever done, they were calling it an "eleven." Picard was supposed to
    fall down. Wil was like No he's the captain, he can't fall down! And Stewart
    didn't like it either. Anyway, the director yelled action and everyone started
    shaking, Frakes falls out of his seat, Wil crashes into his console, Spiner is
    jerking around, etc. Stewart apparently decides to have some fun and totally
    spazzes out, crashing into everything, falling down, getting back up, crashing
    into something else, spinning around, crashing into yet something else, falling
    again, getting back up, etc etc, until finally he crashes into a wall that
    falls down! Suddenly everyone is hushed because they all know it's gonna be at
    least a four thousand dollar delay. So Wil quickly improvises with "Captain, we
    have a hull breach!"
    "AND I SAVED THE DAY," announces Wil with his arms up in a victory post.
    ROFLMAO. That was the end of his talk and we all jumped up to give him a
    standing O.