Friday, December 1, 2006

Update on Ja’red

So Ja’red, the dude that Bike Helmet Girl brought to Thanksgiving dinner, just finished his first week working at Apple and I think he’s a little disillusioned. We put him in manufacturing and at first he was all psyched about the bunny suit which seems very high tech and all. But after a couple of days it dawned on him that mostly his job involved typing out shipping labels (photo above) and shooting packing peanuts into boxes with one of these hoses that we’ve got hanging from the ceiling. (Again, kind of cool the first few times you blast away; not so fun after you’ve done it a thousand times. And yes, at Apple even the packing peanut dudes wear full bunny suits. It’s one of the first changes I instituted after I took over again.) Anyhoo, I explained to Ja’red that you can’t just walk in here and start going to top-level strategy meetings. I want him to learn the business from the bottom up, the same way I did. He agreed this made sense. But I saw him this afternoon and he was kind of bummed out again. Turns out one of the guys down there showed him a parts list and price list for the components in an iMac, and he calculated the obscene amount of profit we’re making on every machine, and this got him kind of upset. Sigh. Remember being young like that?

Monday, November 27, 2006

Awesome Thanksgiving

Man oh man. I’ve been so busy all day since getting back from the trip that I haven’t had a free minute to do any blogging. But we had such a great holiday. Larry came, with his wife and this Asian girl they met on Craigslist. Sergey bought this post-op tranny he’s been seeing (more on that later) as well as his Uncle Fetya, who had his weekend prostitutes with him since the weekday girls get holidays off. Uncle Fetya (shown here in photo) is a total hoot. He has his own party bus. Sergey got him an old yellow short bus and gets off on the fact that Uncle Fetya doesn’t get the joke. Uncle Fetya kept asking Larry if he could buy the Asian girl from him, and Larry kept trying to explain that you can’t buy and sell people in the United States, but there were all these language issues. Then Uncle Fetya said that tofurkey reminded him of something they used to serve in the prison camp where he spent eight years. Talk about a riot!

Best of all, Bike Helmet Girl came. And she brought a date, some guy she’s been seeing. His name is Ja’red (yeah that’s how he spells it) and he works at one of those skanky ass coffee houses on 16th Street in the Mission. Or he used to. Let me explain. He came in all shy, sort of anxious to meet me, and Tiffany (aka BHG) explained that he’s this huge Steve Jobs fan. (Note: Not an Apple fan; a Steve Jobs fan.) I guess he read my commencement speech and was so impressed that he went to Reed for a while then dropped out and lived on a commune. He showed up at our place with no shoes on, wearing a black turtleneck and jeans, shaved head and beard, little round glasses — my first thought was this guy was some kind of ballbuster. But no. He’s a fan. He knew everything about me. The high school stuff, the Atari days. He knows our entire product line inside out. Better than I do. We ended up just talking and talking. Then I was like, Hey, do you meditate? And we went out back and meditated and I could tell this was just blowing his mind, being around me and everything. And to be honest, I don’t blame him. Sometimes I get off on that myself. Like, when I walk past a store window and see my reflection and I’m like, Whoa, I am totally Steve friggin Jobs. Wow.

Anyway, I hired Ja’red. He started at Apple today. He’s working in my office as one of my assistants. Showed up in the same clothes as on Thanksgiving. No shoes. Guards wouldn’t let him in. I had to go downstairs and fire one of them on the spot just to remind them who’s boss. So now Ja’red is roaming the halls and people are looking at me like I’m crazy. But I know what I’m doing. I think he’s totally going to work out. He’s got some wacky ideas, but sometimes that’s what an organization needs. I’m going to rotate him through the various staffs. Manufacturing, engineering, marketing, finance. And I’ll have him report back to me. I want to see how someone with no experience, someone absolutely pure, sees things. Full reports to come.

Friday, November 17, 2006

Friggin Yelptards

So it was all a setup. I’ve been wondering whether to even blog about this. But I know people are gonna ask. So whatever. I feel kinda sick about the whole thing. But anyway, they’re the ones who look like a-holes. They showed up on time, acting all flirty on the drive up to the city, and all flirty during the show and during dinner. So I go into the men’s room at Brandy Ho’s and take the Viagra. By the time we hit the apartment in Pacific Heights I’m walking with a limp and my nose is all stuffed up and it’s all good. I get out a bottle of champagne. They go change into these sexy pajamas. We kick back on the couch. I start to make my move and suddenly they leap up, all offended, like, Oh my God, you didn’t think this was a date, did you? And they’re acting sort of mortified and amused at the same time. And then sad. Like, oh, you poor old man, you really did think this was a date, didn’t you? Then they started talking about Death in Venice and talking about this crush I have on Bike Helmet Girl who looks like she’s 14 years old and how it’s one of those mortality things where you see the end of your own life drawing closer and what you’re really in love with is youth and life but it gets transferred into sexuality, this kind of base desire, and they started calling me Aschenbach and then Catriona started reciting Yeats’s “Sailing to Byzantium,” with this stuff about old dudes still feeling sick with desire and whatever.

In other words: Yeah. Excruciating. No doubt the whole thing was recorded somehow and is gonna show up on YouTube in the next day or so. Well, I feel like an ass. Kind of. Bigger problem was that then it was one in the morning and I’ve got a raging Viagra boner and if you’ve ever taken Viagra you know it can have some side effects including some not-so-pleasant things involving your digestive tract. Add to that the effect of super-spicy Hunan food, the kind that “burns three times” as they say in Mexico (hint: the third time is the dog’s nose) and you’ll got the picture. The girls went to bed, and I spent a memorable hour in the bathroom, groaning, and staring down at Little Stevie, this evil bastard of a third leg which wouldn’t go away. Finally at about 4:30 I got back into disguise and drove down to the Tenderloin and had Stevie Junior taken care of by some “woman” who was taller than me and had bigger hands, and who had the nerve to say, as she was getting out of my car, “Dude, nobody is gonna buy that iTV thing. Seriously.” Then when I pulled my jeans back on my wallet was gone. Nice, right?

On the bright side, Bike Helmet Girl’s performance was amazing. I am even more in love with her now than I was before. Seriously. I was gonna go out back after the show and try to meet her, but the Make Out Girls insisted on leaving early. All part of the plan, I realize now. Not sure but I think they were all in cahoots on this, like it was some kind of Yelptard conspiracy to get revenge or something. I dunno. I’d like to think that Bike Helmet Girl is being sincere and really likes me as much as I like her. Christ. Jobso, get a grip. I mean, will ya listen to me? Here I am, just after getting played like a frigtard by the Make Out Girls, and I’m still hoping that Bike Helmet Girl might be sincere. Hope springs eternal I guess. So does Little Stevie, who’s still under the influence of Vitamin V and standing at attention. Worse yet, I get to the office and there’s an urgent message from Peter Oppenheimer saying we’ve got to meet with some lawyers and finance guys today. Great. I’d rather have a friggin colonoscopy than listen to those idiots.

Anyhoo. That was my big night out. Tiffany, I still have the MacBook Pro in my car. And you were great. Honestly. Amazing. You really are talented. And beautiful. I don’t care if I’m making a fool of myself. You’re the best. I mean it.

God sometimes I am such a putz.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

I’m blogging from Beijing

Ha! Not really. But that’s my cover story, so keep it quiet. I’m actually up in the city making sure the apartment is ready for tomorrow night. Larry gave me some of his Viagra. Not embarrassed to say that ever since I turned the big Five-Oh things haven’t been as rigid as they used to be in the penicular department. Hey. It happens. But with a little help from my old pal Vitamin V I’m like a 19-year-old again. I can friggin stand on it and spin like a break dancer, no lie. I’ve also just spent a good deal of time going through a bunch of shops in North Beach looking for super-sheer condoms. Found the perfect ones, made in Japan from some special space-age material that you can’t even feel. Twenty bucks per skin, but totally worth it, so I’m told. (Again: Thanks, Larry.) The big occasion, as I’ve said before, is Bike Helmet Girl’s dance performance tomorrow night at DragonBar in North Beach, San Francisco from 6-8pm with her group called DOUBLE VISION. I’ll be there with the Yelptard Make Out Girls, Catherine and Catriona. Hope to see as many FSJ readers as possible at the big event. I’ll probably be blogging before then. But you never know. If not, see you at DragonBar. I’ll be in disguise. I’m still hoping to connect with Bike Helmet Girl and don’t want her to see me with these two bisexual skanks from UC-Santa Cruz. So you won’t be able to spot me. But I’ll tell you what. If you wear a name tag of some sort, I’ll make myself known to you. Put something on the name tag like, “I’m friends with Fake Steve,” or “Have you seen Fake Steve?” or “Yelp sucks.” Something like that. Peace out.

Sunday, November 12, 2006

More on Borat

So I was talking to Catherine, the hot member of the Make Out Girls (on the right in the photo, in the tight gray Givenchy skirt) and we were making plans to go see Bike Helmet Girl in her performance this Thursday night in San Francisco. Catherine and Catriona are gonna drive over from Santa Cruz (they’re grad students, lit crit and film studies) and then we’re gonna drive up to SF together, watch the show, catch some late dinner, and crash at my apartment in the city. (My wife thinks I’m gonna be in Beijing. Cool eh?) Anyhoo. Catherine says she saw my blog item on Borat and wanted to tell me that it was “spot on,” as she says in her semi-fake-British East-Coast-intellectual quasi-Mid-Atlantic accent. (She did a Fulbright year at Oxford and has never completely lost the accent. Which frankly I consider quite hot and at not at all pretentious or phony.) She says it doesn’t matter whether SBC doesn’t realize that he’s tapping into anti-Islamic sentiment. He’s doing it. Then she went on and on about authorial intent and the agency of the audience and the Jungian unconscious and racism and fear of Muslims and whatever.

“We disagree with you about Borat being not funny. We think he’s very funny. But you’re right that this phenomenon is sad. It’s sad to think that we live in a country that is so psychologically wounded that it finds Borat funny. We are interested in studying how people exploit fear and use it to manipulate crowds. Herr Bush and Herr Rove are working the same vein as Borat. Difference is just that SBC and his Hollwood backers simply want to make money. As for the Hollywood guys, don’t imagine they don’t know what they’re doing with this film either. You do realize they hire people like us to study this for them before they put up the money?”

Dudes, I have no idea what any of this horsecrap means, and I don’t care. All I know is I’m soooo gonna get some high-IQ punani on Thursday night. And in this case we’re talking two brainiac chicks at the same time. Catherine made a point of telling me that they’re not lesbians, they’re bisexual. Dude, I haven’t had a three-way since I was dating Joan Baez. (Not telling who the third person was, but let’s just say you might not be reading this today if he hadn’t invented Ethernet.) So. El Jobso and two hot grad students. My hands are shaking as I write this. Thursday night I’m packing a bag of mushrooms, a trunk full of free MacBook Pros and iPods, and a half gallon of baby oil. Larry Ellison, eat your heart out. I can’t friggin wait.

One more thing: The photo above was taken by Mitchell Aidelbaum, aka “Maximum Mitch,” aka King o Da Pimps. Much love, Maximum Mitch. See your fat ass Thursday at the show. And bring your friggin camera cause it’s not every day you get to meet El Jobso. And if you miss this chance you ain’t gonna get another, I promise.

Sunday, November 5, 2006

Remember, it’s San Francisco

Lot of nasty comments rolling in about BHG’s dance video. One thing you gotta remember. This is San Francisco, okay? It’s not New York or Los Angeles. I mean the weather is nice here but we don’t exactly draw the top talent in certain cultural areas. We’re not really a major city; we’re basically Bend, Oregon, with taller buildings. The kids who really know how to dance and sing don’t come here. Who does? Well, the kids who minored in dance at Oberlin and want to play around at it for a few years before either a) going to Stanford to get an MBA; or b) marrying some investment banker and moving to Marin to make babies. You just have to adjust expectations down if you live here. Our symphony is second rate; our museums are a joke; our newspapers are worse than most college dailies. But out here it’s all about trying hard and having good intentions. You ever read the arts reviews in the Chronicle? Disney can spend $50 million and put hundreds of the world’s best talent to work making a first-rate movie for kids, and some wanker at the Chron who probably can’t splice together two clips in iMovie dismisses it as “derivative” and gives it one star. But if four spastics put on leotards and leap around a stage like they’ve got St. Vitus’ Dance, claiming this is about no-blood-for-oil, then it’s a triumphant breakthrough in the world of performance art, an important — no, necessary — piece of work. Ugh.

So anyway. BHG, I love you. Don’t listen to these frigtards who are dissing your dance video. It’s great. Honestly. It’s creative and inspiring. And it’s all about you, expressing yourself. I loved it. Peace out.

Saturday, November 4, 2006

Bike Helmet Girl video!

No kidding, it’s her, and she’s dancing in very tight black shorts and a white tank top. See here. Oh my friggin God. I don’t know much about dance, and this stuff looks pretty funky and avant garde, almost sort of reminds me of some of my tai chi moves. But one thing I do know about is women’s butts, and this girl is about as close to a 10 as you’ll ever see. Lot of people don’t know about my ass fixation, but it’s true. I’m a butt man, always have been. Larry is more about the boobs (and epicanthic folds) but I’m all about the ass. And let me tell you something, this Bike Helmet Girl has got some Grade A glutes. Must be all the cycling. That and the dancing. I swear you could bounce quarters off those cheeks. Tiffany, I worship at your altar of callipygian perfection.

PS if any other incredibly attractive funky-alternative type babes in the Bay Area have upcoming events where they will be performing with very little clothing on, and you want these events promoted, please be like Tiffany and send the info along. Old sugar daddy FSJ will be glad to help you out.

You gotta love Bike Helmet Girl

Larry says I’m crazy, but you know what? I’m totally falling for this Bike Helmet Girl. Larry says it’s just some midlife crisis kind of thing. But I dunno. Feels real to me. I’ve got to talk to my spiritual advisor about it. Meanwhile I just got this email (see below) from Bike Helmet Girl, whose real name happens to be Tiffany. She’s totally cool, has a great sense of humor, and she’s some kind of dancer or performance artist. Best of all, if you’re in the Bay Area, you can see her perform live on Nov. 16. Tiffany, stop doing this to me. You’re making an old man crazy. I mean it, girl. Daddy’s gonna have to spank you. And you wouldn’t want that. Or would you?

Dear Mr. FS Jobs,

It has been a while since we last corresponded, but I wanted to let you know that I have not forgotten about the promised macbook pro. I am more or less settled in San Francisco now, but feel a bit awkward giving you my mailing address, as we have never been formally introduced. Instead, I would rather invite you to an upcoming event. Besides, I think you would prefer seeing me and my fellow artists live as opposed to on somebody’s flickr site…

I have made tremendous progress with respect to my aforementioned condition and continue perform on a rather consistent basis. While I am no longer in need of wearing a bike helmet during daylight hours, I occasionally don a headlamp at night to ensure that I remain aware of my surroundings in the event that I experience an episode. It’s not so bad, but I look forward to making further progress and achieving a full recovery. Fortunately, it has been incorporated into our next performance event so I do not appear to be such an anomaly.

On Thursday, November 16th, DOUBLE VISION is hosting a benefit at DragonBar in North Beach, San Francisco from 6-8pm. Link here.

The event features free food, drinks, chair massage, silent auction items, dance, video and music. A fair number of yelpers (or yelpsters as you prefer to call them) will be in attendance among our other guests. I do hope you can make it, as it would be a pleasure to finally meet you.

(aka Karen, aka Tiffany)

Dudes– and Tiffany — all I can say is that I will DEFINITELY be there. But you may not recognize me, since I usually go out in some kind of disguise. Otherwise I’m swamped by groupies. Basically I’m like a white Flavor Flav. Yeah. It’s like dat y’all. But Tiffany, you’ll know who I am. I promise. I’ll be the soft-spoken gentleman with the roses and the MacBook Pro for you. All I ask is that you be kind to me, my sweetheart. Be gentle with an old man’s heart. Namaste. I bow to you. Peace out.

PS I also want to give a big photo credit and huge shout-out to my main man, amateur pornographer Mitchell Aidelbaum. No doubt Maximum Mitch will be at the DOUBLE VISION event, so dudes, buy the guy a beer. He’s riding high these days ever since the Hustler guys flew him down to L.A. to shoot some test pix for Barely Legal. Couldn’t be happier for you, Mitchell Aidelbaum.

Saturday, September 2, 2006

Hard to reach this weekend

Blogging from the road and might not have great access for the next few days. I’m in Japan with Sergey Brin checking out these new sex robots that some guys from Tokyo University are developing. (As you can see, the early models aren’t great — they go for this punk rock look, a total turnoff for me.) But they’re getting better, and basically the deal is for $250,000 they’ll make one to spec for you. Sergey wants them to make him a bot that looks like Scarlett Johansson but is a shemale. (I’m not asking any questions.) I’ve brought over a Mitchell Aidelbaum photo of Bike Helmet Girl and a shot of Veronica Belmont taken from her flickr page. When I showed them the photo of Bike Helmet Girl the Japanese dudes all started panicking and freaking out and talking a mile a minute to each other. Finally the one dude who can speak English says, Jobs-san, my colleagues want to know, please tell us, what is name of company that make this robot? I told them she’s not a robot, she’s a real girl, she was at a party in San Francisco. Guy goes, No, no, this is not human. This is robot. Very very good likeness, but robot, most certainly. German made, we think. Where you see her? I told them I’ve never actually met her, just traded email. But I think she lives in San Francisco. The Japanese dudes all have this conference, and then they say to Sergey, Brin-san, we must go to San Francisco and find her, can you take us in your party plane? Brin says sure, no problem, but we’re heading to Shanghai for the weekend, but we’ll stop and pick you guys up on the way back.

Well, more later. Peace out.

Monday, August 21, 2006

Everybody’s got advice

But this genius has a great idea. He thinks I should pony up a billion dollars and buy YouTube. Well, I do get all of my best business advice from blogs, and especially from GigaOM (WTF with that name?). So as soon as I read this article I began calling my investment bankers. My orders were clear: put the Yelp due diligence on hold (but fear not, Bike Helmet Girl, I’m still coming for you) and instead get to work analyzing YouTube. Let’s snap this baby up before Murdoch gets his Aussie paws on it.

Because look. This one’s a no-brainer. I mean, who doesn’t get off watching home-made videos of kids dropping Mentos into bottles of Diet Coke, or frigtard wankers playing Joe Satriani licks in their bedrooms, right? I could watch this stuff for hours. Or check out this Man Child here playing scales on his bitchin axe. My God. I used to think the soundtrack music in hell would involve banjos and bagpipes. Wrong. It’ll be this guy playing solo electric guitar. Profile says he’s 32 years old and employed as a lift operator in Vancouver. Now he’s home alone on a Saturday night with a webcam and an electric guitar, making movies of himself rocking out. I suppose, deep down, in his heart of hearts, he hopes that by doing this he will meet a girl.

Excuse me, I must go weep.

Anyhoo, ya know, I’d love to buy YouTube, but I think I’ve already done my part to make the world a sadder place than it used to be. Also, you may not realize this, but I already run a real movie studio. Like, the kind that makes movies that get shown in actual movie theaters and sells them on copy-protected DVDs. You might have heard of it. It’s called Disney. But thank you, Mr. Serial Entrepreneur on GigaOM, for your excellent advice. If anyone else has business plans or strategies for Apple, please send them along. Ditto for any Pixar movie ideas, unsolicited scripts. Send them my way. Peace out.