Gregory Peck’s star was stolen from the Hollywood Walk of Fame last night. Apparently, the star was cut out of the sidewalk where it had honored the actor for more than four decades.

“They just left a big hole out there,” Johnny Grant, 82, who serves as Hollywood’s honorary mayor and oversees the Chamber of Commerce ceremonies honoring star recipients, said Tuesday. ” Somebody went out there with a cement saw and carved it out of the black terrazzo.”

Peck’s is the fourth star that has been stolen since the Walk of Fame opened in 1960. Jimmy Stewart, Kirk Douglas and Gene Autry’s stars were previously stolen in unrelated incidents of vandalism. Personally, I’m a big fan of vandalism, in the form of grafitti, which some consider to be an art form and a form of free expression. Stealing is not an art form nor a form of expression, it is just plain stupid. Trust me, I know from personal experience. A replacement for Peck’s star has already been partially installed but remains covered up.

Before I left Cacka-lacka del Norte for the great state of Texas, I went down to see Sean at CD Alley. I asked him which Royal Trux album would make for some good driving music, Mac having just turned me onto them. I purchased Accelerator and was on my way. After listening to “Juicy, Juicy, Juice” about a thousand times Dr.T. vowed to go see them live at their next performance. When I found out that Neil Hagerty was going to be dropping his chocolatey live music score into the peanut buttery visuals of Fantastic Planet, I ’bout made some butt soup standing up . So … if’n you’re in Austin Thursday night you best be at the Alamo Downtown—fa’realz-dough.

Nothings ever gonna keep you down.

These days are yours and mine, happy days!

Hi there kids!
Several days have come and past since the big move to Austin. Not much exciting has happened outside of exploring and living in a new city. Liz and I went to see Judd Apatow speak about his successes and failures in Hollywood while showing delicious outtakes from The 40 Year Old Virgin.

I now work for the “best theater in the country,” and while the perks are amazing … well, I do the work of a strong helper monkey. But nothing could prepare me for whom I came face to face with in the dark before a screening of Harry Potter.
Yes … Frankenstein. AKA Bill. Or for those who know him from only one film, the guy from Cannonball. He was a suave mother … shut your mouth. Well I’m talkin’ bout David. Then you can do it. Unfortunetly his brother Robert didn’t show up for the DVD projection we did of Revenge of the Nerds a few weeks ago. And then there’s Keith … I know a few folks who want to play poker with him. Welp, as they say … “you can’t win them all.”

Four Years Running [NSFW]
Join a Revolution. Make Movies. Go Broke. [NYT]
The Girl from Monday
little blue turds
9
Investigating Film Noir
Thousand-hand Bodhisattva dance [.wmv]

Check out the trailer for this axle-grindin’, gear-poppin’, rubber-burnin’ documentary about the U.S. Express (nee the Cannonball Run):
32 Hours 7 Minutes. [via Metafilter]

Ain’t nobody within a hundred miles of Williamsburg, NYC reading this here blawgie, but if’n there were I’d tell ‘em to get their asses on down to Galapagos Art Space tonight for a showing of Jesus is Magic.