Dear Journal,

I just returned from Los Angeles where I shot a TV pilot for CBS.

What's a TV pilot?

Well, no one's really sure, but my best explanation is that it's a sample episode of what a TV series would be. It's like the first batch of pancakes where you decide, "These are going to be some good pancakes," or, "Let's not make pancakes."

I brought my brother Joe, of course, because he loves pancakes and tends to come along for almost anything. I also brought my girlfriend and another friend who's also a personal trainer and nutritionist to help me cut down on how "pudgy and awkward" I am. It turns out eating spinach salads for every meal helps cure pudginess-but not awkwardness. As Popeye once said, "I yam what I yam!"

I rented a house so that everyone had their own room and you know, Journal, having roommates was harder than I thought. Like for example, sometimes they wouldn't do their dishes. And that felt really bad. It probably felt like they felt when I didn't do my dishes. Bad.

The toughest thing about LA is that there are just too many cars-and it's not like one of those places where everyone is good at driving, like...heaven. I think the reason people in LA are so bad at driving is that showbiz people are so used to lying that they tell people who are bad at driving that they're good at driving.

They're like, "You're the best driver. You're like the Johnny Depp of driving."

And they're like, "Really? Well I'm going to email all my friends and tell them you said that...right now...while I'm driving."

Going on the freeway in LA is like going on an amusement park ride with consequences. You come off it and you're like, "Whoa! That was CRAZY...I think I killed those people."

Well, I made it out alive and my final task was to catch a flight at 6 in the morning- which meant that I had to stay at the airport hotel and wake up at 4. That is early. That is like earlier than the earth exists. I walked out the door of the hotel and they hadn't set up the ground-like they hadn't programmed that part of the Matrix yet. All these computer programmers were freaking out, like, "We need a ground stat and a postman walking by and...a rental car shuttle." It was like Trinity and Tank in their Long-Johns going, "No one's ever woken up this early!"

Well, luckily they programmed an airplane so I made it back to my apartment in New York after a month and a half and I woke up this morning and made pancakes. And I haven't tried them yet, but I feel like they're going to be some good pancakes.

And that concludes this week's entry in my secret public journal.