The year started off on a great note when I was invited to do a commentary track for the upcoming re-release of FRIDAY THE 13TH PART IV: THE FINAL CHAPTER which I recorded on Friday, January 2nd. This was cool on so many levels, mainly being that FRIDAY IV is my favorite film of the series (along with PART II)… but it was even more special because another genre director whom I greatly admire (and a guy who also happens to be one of my best friends) JOE LYNCH was also invited to participate and the two of us recorded the commentary track together.

If you’re like me, you’re probably thinking “Um… what exactly did YOU have to do with the making of FRIDAY THE 13TH: PART IV”?” And the answer is… absolutely nothing. As a matter of fact, I was nine when that film came out. But as we’ve started to see with many classic film re-issues, it’s become a fun addition to DVD packages when other filmmakers (who are also fans of the film) are asked to do a commentary discussing the movie from an outside perspective. Both Lynch and I are directors who wear our inspirations and love for the 80’s slasher sub-genre on our sleeves- so the producers felt like it would make for a cool addition. Needless to say, the session was a BLAST and it was a tremendous honor to get to be a part of the FRIDAY legacy.

Earlier in 2008 I took part in the ultimate FRIDAY THE 13TH documentary (“HIS NAME WAS JASON”) which will be airing on Starz in February followed by the DVD release. While I haven’t seen the finished film at the time of this blog, I am told that it turned out great and that fans of the FRIDAY films will have an overload of geek-tastic stuff to feast on when it comes out.

I’m told that I have my very own special feature about the “rat piss” scene from PART II… which is a great segue into the next part of my weekend and my next story.

The very next day I had to take our cats to the vet. Nothing serious, just the annual check-up and vaccine sorta stuff. For the very few on here who knew me back when I was still doing stand-up comedy, I used to do a bit on my vet. He’s a 6 foot tall black man with the deepest voice you’ve ever heard and a lazy eye that is so lazy that you almost have to nudge the person next to you and say out loud “Now that right there is a wicked lazy eye.” Some people have lazy eyes where one is looking at you and one is looking at the trash barrels behind the building in the parking lot. But this guy’s got one eye focused on you and the other one starring back into his childhood. It’s both fascinating and scary when he comes towards the cats with a needle in his hand. At one point he walked in holding some paperwork and he said “I see these cats have come here today to be euthanized.” But once the nurse turned the page over he corrected himself… “I mean, neutered.” Yes, it’s a gamble with my pet’s lives whenever they go to see my vet, but he’s the same vet who’s office they were born in and I’m a guy who doesn’t like change.

Anyway, I don’t want to bore you with all of the details about our cats- so here’s the gist: I adopted Tyler and Perry when they were just 3 weeks old. Here’s a picture that was taken on the DAY I first met them…

Now, let me make one thing clear. I am a DOG person. I don’t know how I ever got into cats, but it all started back in 1997 when a cat with feline Down’s Syndrome named W. Axl Rose came into my life and sort of changed it forever. That’s a whole nother story for another day, but before you call me names for having cats- just know that I’d rather have dogs. In fact, once my lifestyle settles down a bit more and I’m at home more often, I plan on drowning my cats in the pool and replacing them with dogs. And yes, I know I look gay as hell in the above picture but come on. I had two little kittens crawling on me. You try and look straight.

And I must point out that the cats are named after Steven Tyler and Joe Perry- not the guy who makes those “Madea” movies. At one point, a good friend of mine (Karen Whitman) met Steven Tyler and Joe Perry and had them autograph a photo of the cats which is hanging in a frame in my office. Pretty f’n cool if I do say so myself.

When Rileah and I moved in together almost 5 years ago, her cat Chewbacca moved in along with her, thus making us a full-on cat household. Thankfully all of the cats get along for the most part. But over the past few months, Chewy has developed a new love for pissing outside of the litterbox, just outside of the guest bathroom, on the carpet. We don’t know why he does it and even worse, all of my efforts to stop this disgusting habit have been futile. Chewy and I now have a relationship on par with Mr. Parker and the Bumpus’ dogs from A CHRISTMAS STORY. In fact, last week I hired a Vietnam vet to set up punji sticks all FIRST BLOOD style so that I can nail Chewbacca to the fucking wall once and for all and protect my already worthless carpet.

“I’m an asshole. I pee on stuff.”

The moral of the story is that Chewbacca is on my shit list and Perry is a SAINT. In fact, I would dare say that Perry is possibly the most perfect cat in the world. Aside from her issues with Paul Stanley (I can’t explain it, but she constantly goes after and tears apart my Paul Stanley action figure… and ONLY Paul Stanley, never any of the other KISS members) Perry does nothing wrong. Yet the other two cats beat on her whenever they play and she almost always ends up with the shit end of the stick.

Poor Perry.

So we’re at the vet and the waiting room is a bit crowded. It’s a Saturday so what can you do, right? We waited for well over an hour before Johnny Eyes was ready for us. And in the waiting room we met a bunch of other animals. The first was a Pitt Bull named Ponchas Pilot or something crazy like that. This dog LOVED the vet. I’ve never seen an animal so stupid in my life. He literally stood there with his eyes glued to the doorway, and every time Johnny Eyes walked past- the dog would get so excited he would pee. I shit you not. A dog that LOVED going to the vet. Unreal.

But then there was Jack. Jack was a white haired terrier and he was a douchebag of a dog. Not only did he have white hair- but it was the type of hair that was all grungy and dirty on the edges. In fact, parts of it looked PINK! Jack was a barker. Like it wasn’t bad enough standing in a cramped waiting room with three stressed out cats and a vet-loving Pitt Bull… now we had to deal with Jack the asshole barker. And what did Jack’s Mom do during all of this? Do you think she would have the decency to at least TRY and stop Jack from barking? Maybe even offer a quiet “Shhh”? No. She did nothing. She just sat there with her shit-eating nasty haired terrier barking up a storm.

Thankfully, Jack was next up and we got about 15 minutes of peace and quiet while Ponchas Pilot paced like a 12 year old whore backstage at a Poison concert awaiting his turn with the rock star and my three cats slowly shed every last hair on their bodies and prayed for a quick death.

Jack finished up and his shitty owner walked him over to the front desk to settle her bill. Just like her lack of interest in his annoying barking for an hour straight, she had no interest in watching where he was going or what he was up to while she signed her credit card receipt. And that’s when I saw Jack make his way over to my cat carriers.

The motherfucker pissed on Perry.

He just walked right over, lifted his leg, and urinated on my cat. On sweet little Perry! I mean, if it had been Chewy I would have given Jack a treat. If it had been Chewy, it would have been karma at it’s finest. But noooooo. Perry, the perfect cat who does nothing wrong to anyone except Paul Stanley… she got pissed on. And what did Jack’s owner say as I quickly picked up Perry to pull her away to safety?

“Sorry ’bout that.”

Sorry ’bout that? You fucking asshole. Hopefully Jack ate some bad milk bones when he got home, projected liquid shit all over that woman’s face and then dropped dead. Pee on Perry? Why I oughta…!

But the story doesn’t end there. The cats all went in to see Johnny Eyes, get their shots, have their privates violated, get manhandled, and then be placed back in their respective carriers. But not Perry. No, apparently it was deemed that Perry had plaque and that she needed to spend the night at the hospital in order to have her teeth cleaned properly. So the other two cats got sent home scott free… and poor Perry got pee’d on and then put under sedation to have her teeth cleaned. Again, had it been Chewy- I would have pointed and laughed. But no… Perry got shafted yet again. If any of you reading this have cats and if you’ve ever had their teeth cleaned, you know it’s a horrible process. The anesthesia, the ointment in their eyes, the week of medicine that follows… it is miserable on them.

So Perry came home today. She can’t quite open her eyes all the way yet and she looks like she got run over by a truck… but she’s home and very happy to be here.

And thus ends my first weekend of the New Year. I’d tell you all about my New Year’s Eve exploits, but unfortunately I have to go clean piss off of my carpets. Excuse me.

Happy New Year-
Adam