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                               Since our costumes are so confusing, I'm an 8th year freshman from Delta Iota Kappa house wearing a shirt from the Pledge Day 2005 Spagettie Feed and Cleavage Looking Contest. Natalie's a mermaid doctor priest.           The Mystery Spot in Santa Cruz is a torrent of madness and misunderstanding where our very laws of physics are mocked.  Unlike the Mystery Spot, at the nearby bigfoot museum, the fundamental laws of reality remain constant, except for now being filled with impossible ape monsters.         Comic Con was a celebration, bitches!  Clap clap clap!  Amy celebrating the premiere of Return of Pink Five Part 2 at the Star Wars Something Something Awards.  Tommy and I celebrating his new totally metal Adult Swim show, Deathklock.  Me celebrating Adam De La Pena for his two awesome shows, I'm With Busey and Minoriteam.  All of us celebrating Eddie's gift to me of a ninety-foot tall Over the Top action figure. Fucking check that shit!  And me and Nat celebrating true nerd love. She's in a Monica Rambeau costume from Warren Ellis' Nextwave, but one cross-eyed nerd called her "Black Tomb Raider." Then he ran off. From his delivery, I got the idea it was the first time he ever said the word "black" in front of one.  Nat and I with space's Princess Leia.  This action kung fu super team marks the beginning of the Comic-Con 2006 Costume Nerd Off:  A collision of cup cakes, history, and universes.  The Joker.  Wonder Woman.  I just thought of a great name for this guy! I Need My Coffee Dr. Strange! Ha ha ha, holy shit!  Monica Rambeau and Battle-Damaged Mrs. Incredible.  Eddie and I take a break to enjoy a shadowy intruder.  Non-gay movie Batman.  Natalie vs. Sub Zero vs. Scorpion vs. Me.  Look at this fuck.  New Jailbait Phoenix.  Have you ever seen the Galactus toys where you hit a button and either "I HUNGER!!!" or sinister theme music comes out of his helmet? I think a chest button that causes hat music is probably the best super power to have.  Ragman and Blue Devil.  Rorsharch. "Who nerds the Nerdmen?"  Bane with Boredom Attachment sold seperately.  Jorge Garcia. Or was he just a dream? A false memory implant? He was sweating out mystery itself.  Mini Bosses!   Nerd games.  On the way to my birthday, Nick stopped at the taqueria to play the same Madonna song 10 times in a row on their jukebox, then stopped at McDonald's to buy me like fifty pies.    Since kicking the shit out of someone hardly ever comes up in my day-to-day life, I've found that the most practical application of my Muay Thai training is destroying things a little bit more spectacularly.  Gallagher couldn't have known it would never work as a stage show, but it is pretty funny when you destroy a watermelon.  Normally you'd use a stick for this, but when you kill a pinata completely unarmed, it sends a message to the rest of them.                      Even if that poster wasn't behind me, my face says, "Desperate Housewives: The Game" all by itself.           My pick for E3's Best Booth of 2006.  The award presentation for E3's Best Booth of 2006.          You know how you're with your friends and all the day's running gags culminate into one moment? We captured that moment on video with Bill Cosby giving a PSA about the dangers of unexpected rape while Natalie humps my leg.     Using the mutant space lemon's from Natalie's lemon tree, I invented a game called "Fuck You, Lemon." The object of it is to kick a lemon so it explodes against your shin, then explodes again against the folding table. You win when the fruit begs for mercy.  "Sean's Game" Photo director: Nico.  It was nice to see Anjali and everything, but I was actually getting my picture taken with UltraSling II. UltraSling II!  Me taking my Dorf for a walk.   Not that it isn't totally clear from the picture, but Tom's wife is wearing his Reno 911! moustache.  Eddie and I in San Jose after California's first MMA event. The main event was a classic matchup between Cezar Gracie's head and Frank Shamrock's fists.  This is me on the set at my first stuntman job. I think it'll be a nice thing to fall back on when I can't be funny any more. If anyone noticed that I dressed myself exactly like a Knight Rider henchman, they weren't kind enough to mention it.  Fun fact: When you t-bone a Nova with a tow truck, the tow truck is totally fucked.  Action! Danton exploding through the door was my face's cue to get its ass kicked.  And here's my face's ass getting kicked.  This is me, Hector, and Patrick on day one of shooting. Not pictured: On day two of shooting, a shirtless hobo came onto our set and threatened a girl at craft services with a car jack. A cop and my Muay Thai coach rushed over and told him to drop it, so he did. Then he started to hobo growl at them like he wanted to fight. We all left our fake fighting to get into the real one just as more cops showed up and threw him in the back of a car. He never stopped giving us shit. Twenty stuntmen and five cops were all about to kick his ass, and it never even entered his head to stop being a fuck. And that hobo is probably out on the streets again. Not because of the inadequacies of the judicial system, but because they couldn't find a cell big enough for his balls.  Looking back, my favorite stunt took place during a scene where we were doing background action and I was kicked in the dong twice by two different people. It ended with me grabbing one actor and just punching him in the face like twenty times. It was so stupidly awesome and we started laughing so hard that I had to put him in a headlock and turn us away from camera. It's good to know that there's a strong chance of uncontrollable giggling if I ever have to savagely beat someone to death.                                      Natalie let the rest of the party know, "The bones of the WARRIORS will rise to FUEL our spaceship, and stock it with fruit for our long combat journey! And when Hulkamania combines with the WARRIOR, it shall create a thunder that will shake and crush oblivion until the WARRIOR SHALL PREVAIL!!!"  I never understood what the fuck the Ultimate Warrior was saying, but I didn't see that as a very good reason to not make out with the Ultimate Warrior.   Neither magic nor gay are a match for Hulkamania.  After all the neighborhood's children were praying regularly and swimming with buddies, I had time to take on my toughest opponent yet, brother: Walker, Texas Ranger's illiteracy.  Unfortunately for Walker, Texas Ranger, the book we were reading was called "Hulkamania," and it was turned to chapter "IS RUNNIN' WILD ON YOU, BROTHER!"    Wrestlemania XXXII: The Immortal Hulk Hogan vs. The Guy Who Wants To Get You Free Money From the Government.       At the Crab House, I was seduced by the descriptive and tantalizing menu item, "Crab Feast: $100."  This picture was taken six minutes before the great Rethinking of Bungie-Trampolining Safety Precautions Conference.         To Natalie's credit, about 14 feet of the tickets I'm wearing were the result of the skee ball machine having some kind of awesome malfunction.                                  At writer meetings, Tommy is often shocked at the savage, tasteless jokes written in my unicorn notebook. For example, one that will never get past MTV's censors is a scene where a gay, black record producer is trying to convert the Dominican janitor to Judaism, and my punch note for the script was, "PAGE 6: HANKS SAYS, 'If I can turn a straight man's face into a chocolate milking machine, I can make this fat fucking Mexican into a Jew.'" To cover my ass, I told everyone that that line was in the unicorn notebook when I bought it.             My dad and I in Connecticut.  If I travelled back in time to fight in 15th century wars, their soldiers could ride me into battle. And I'd teach them rock and roll.                                 To see this serious Ong Bak shit animated, click here.                                            Welcome to my tour of Hollywood's shitty Guinness Worlds Records Museum and creepy ass wax statue place!  Ever dream of standing near a tarzan drawing!? AAHHEEAH AHEEAHEEAAHH!  It's like I'm the costar of space, starring Yoda!  See how your weight stacks up against 1978's World's Fattest Man! This scale's idea of weighing you was to bounce between 100 pounds of your approximate weight, but it worked better than the quiz machines scattered throughout the museums. On those, it would ask you multiple choice questions, but the only buttons that worked were the wrong answers. The speakers that shout how wrong you are work quite well, though.  Travel through time with history's favorite Arnolds!  I assume this was some kind of sculpture-placing clerical error...  ...whereas Nicolas Cage with a Mario Brother is more of a "together at last" type of thing.  I'm really doing it! Achieving in space!!!  With Chuck Norris by my side, I feel like a real karate cowboy!  Holy fucking crap, they have Jean Claude Van Damme! Yes!!! Also pictured: probably a long time Jean Claude Van Damme enthusiast, George C. Scott as Patton!  Recreate scenes from Pulp Fiction!  ... and M*A*S*H!!!  Bye, Jean Claude Van Damme!  Outside, we met WWE's Christian, but since I was used to wax impersonators, it took several minutes of me pretending to hump him for funny pictures before I figured out he was real.              I started the day at 4 am to finish up a script, spent several hours being hilarious, and then Eddie and I drove over to train Amy into an engine of Muay Thai destruction. This picture was taken before she kicked through the time barrier and we stopped Joseph Stalin's Futuresaurs in the Old West.  Later we went to the Greg Hastings Paintball video game release party, titular paintball celebrity pictured above. Greg Hastings is much better at Greg Hastings Paintball than I am at Seanbaby Tank Battle, or at least would be if someone was awesome enough to invent Seanbaby Tank Battle.  As per my agreement with my liver, I got tore up.  Despite the fact that I had keg stands for dinner, Eddie and I are apparently the best virtual paintball players in the media, and won $1000 in the Greg Hastings Paintball tournament. I asked them just to throw the prize directly on us so we could swim in it, but it turns out it's almost impossible to swim in ten bills. We also discovered the floor hadn't been mopped that well since Bryan's mouth and throat (holding tap 1 picture up) violently rejected several seconds of his keg stand all over the floor.  Justin and David, two members of the media who are not as good as Eddie and I at Greg Hastings Paintball. Suck on it.  I did one for the road, since we were heading to the Hotel Roosevelt and I figured they'd make me drink out of a glass like some kind of asshole.  We met up with Aeon, who, if she was our 14th president, would actually be named Franklin Pierce and be many years into a terrifying unlife, walking the Earth unkillable.  When we went to Fred 62's, Eddie and I remembered that we love Gabby.  Hal stopped by after a day of celebrity guesting at a porno convention. Don't be fooled by our clownery-- any one of us could kill you, and probably already has.  Hal brought a glass dildo that Gabby seemed to take to. Hal is a real sponge of knowledge, and brought this knowledge back from the convention: glass dildos aren't porous, so they don't spread disease. Which is great news for us, who after breakfast were planning on ramming it into many, many strangers without stopping to wipe it off then returning it to its swampy carrying bag to start again tomorrow. Thanks, physical properties of glass!       Aaron and I enjoying a run through of his script on the set of Video Game Vixens.                                                                                I don't want to brag, but after Eddie and I knocked tiles out of my brother's kitchen floor in the shape of "I HEART COCK," we were elected city councilmen of OUTRAGEOUS! Ultimate prank!        I rocked this sick kid's cancer away!   My mom and sister are tore up!    At Bryan's Wrestlemania 21 party, I barbecued a pizza. Its dough was made of ground beef and smashed bratwurst, with a topping of cheese, pepperoni, and bacon.  This is what it looked like up close after it was done. Since it was so thick, I had to cook the top by pouring bacon grease over it, effectively barbecueing it and deep-frying it at the same time. Which seemed like a good time for me to notice that I'm totally rad.  For dessert, Rich and I made a three layer masterpiece out of cake, marionberry jelly, Skittles bubble gum, Reeses Bits, vanilla syrup, cookie crumbs, fruit punch popsicle shavings, ice cream, and sugar. For a touch of elegance, we doused it with Grand Marnier. This also gave us the idea to make it flambe. And since popsicle-soaked cake doesn't light on fire, we embedded four ground bloom flowers left over from Fourth of July. Soon our cake became a celebration of everything that ever ruled.  It didn't taste very good, but that's probably only because I don't have a sophisticated enough palate to appreciate such decadence.     I'm sure Maggie will be happy to find out that after she passed out at Cama, she and I got it on.                        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