Pat Freestone

R.I.P. David Pole 1972-2003

May 12, 2003

Affirmation at last.

It seems that there is, finally, at least one human being out there besides my mother who noticed my lengthy absence from my position here at Big Screen Video. It was my old friend, the cable television writer.

He came in on Sunday and returned a staggeringly large collection of overdue videos. When he commented that he had not seen me at work in some time, I was so touched that I decided to absolve him of his $191 late fees and offer him some free friendly advice on head cleaners.

He thanked me, and then wandered over and stared at The Matrix poster for over two hours. When I finally asked him if he was interested in perhaps renting The Matrix , he muttered something about human beings being viruses and then walked out with a blank look on his face.

I'm worried about that guy.

Pat Freestone

May 13, 2003

The cable television writer came in yet again this afternoon to stare at The Matrix poster. He was barefoot, reeking of gasoline, and shaven only on one side of his face, but otherwise pleasant enough. After a few hours, he averted his gaze from the wall and walked slowly up to the counter. He asked me my name. I told him.

"Pat," he said, "have you ever looked in the mirror and seen only half of yourself looking back?"

I smiled at him. "Yes, I have," I said, even though I have not. Because I learned long ago not to disagree with people who have gone totally fucking coconuts.

Yours truly,

Pat Freestone

May 14, 2003

In case you're not familiar with my relationship with the cable television writer, here is a posting from some time ago that I hope will help explain his rather unique outlook.

August 28,2002

Hello Again!

I'm glad to be back at the front desk, monitoring the inventory, handling the video rental transactions, and as usual, taking a few of my spare moments to address you all over the World Wide Web.

This afternoon, I had yet another discussion with our local Cable Television Writer, who had come by to return his rentals, and poke about the "Cult Classics" section in a somewhat melancholy stupor. As a courtesy, I offered my assistance, and was immediately subjected to a long tirade on his on-going career dissatisfaction. I have taken the liberty of summarizing his main points in the following flow chart.


In case you're wondering, the Cable Television Writer eventually settled on Faces of Death III, The Defilers, and a snackbar-size box of Butterfinger BBs.

See you tomorrow!

Pat Freestone

May 15, 2003

I don't envy the cable television writer. Actually, I do. I envy the hell out of him!

What other profession allows a person the luxury of flexible hours, staggeringly lucrative pay, travel to exciting locations, and connections to the world's most talented actors and directors? In what other pursuit can a person touch others so deeply, so profoundly, and with such beauty? Where else can a person create entire worlds out of thin air, and watch their written words become the stuff of dreams, for all to see and enjoy on the silver screen?

Oh, wait. I was thinking of the Hollywood screenwriter.

I don't envy the cable television writer.

Yours truly,

Pat Freestone

May 16, 2003

From 10:22am until closing time, the cable television writer berated me over my decision to continue my career at Big Screen Video. It seems that he has recently been following my exploits as posted here on Today Inside Pat Freestone Updated Almost Daily, and, as he pointed out repeatedly in no uncertain terms, does not support my choice to return to work. His tirade was long and brutal, and filled with observations both real and imagined that left me humiliated and more than a little offended. I cannot quote him directly, however, as I am a man of decency and decorum.

In any case, the cocksucker was all up in my ass the whole fucking day.

Have a great weekend!

Pat Freestone

May 22, 2003

Good lord.

My sincere apologies for my absence over these past few days. Since last Friday, I have been unable to update Today Inside Pat Freestone Updated Almost Daily, as I have been busy lending my ears, heart and mind to the cable television writer.

For the last five days, the cable television writer has recounted to me his complete history, from his humble beginnings as a convenience store clerk in Oklahoma City, to his spectacular rise to the middle of the cable television industry and his subsequent failed marriage to adult film star Stella Esteem . We talked of trials and tribulations, of travels far and wide, and of our mutual hatred for the music of Billy Joel. But most of all, we talked about his pain. For he, more than anyone I know, is a man who has paid the moderately high price of almost-fame.

I have become familiar with many of my regular customers in my tenure here behind the counter at Big Screen Video, but never have I gotten so close to a member of the clientele that our relationship has crossed over from retail rapport into true friendship. My connection with the cable television writer has become exactly that. He has entrusted me with his secrets, his dreams, and his fears. He has shared with me the very things that define him. I know the cable television writer like the back of my hand.

So when he comes in tomorrow, I will go ahead and find out what his name is.


Pat Freestone

May 28, 2003

No sign of the cable television writer today, although I did come across this old web entry from some time ago:

August 20, 2002

Hello, friends!

This morning I had quite an enjoyable chat with a customer who is employed as a Cable Television Writer. He talked and talked about his exciting career. I've taken the liberty of summarizing what I was able to learn from him into this chart. The chart represents how the Cable Television Writer spends his day.


Oh, in case you're wondering, the writer rented Free Willy, Stand By Me, and Lord of the Flies. Can you believe he never even mentioned he's got kids at home?!

See you tomorrow,
Pat Freestone

May 30, 2003


June 4, 2003

Let the bad times roll.

It is only after several days of personal reflection and quiet mourning that I can begin to address my heartbreak over the unexpected, self-inflicted death of the cable television writer.

Even though I never knew his real name until I read about how he jumped out of his window and splattered himself all over the pavement, he was like a brother to me. Granted, I never saw his home, or met his family, or shook his hand, or broke bread with him, or sat down and had a beer with him, or told him anything about me, or knew his birth date, phone number, religion, ethnic background or marital status, or helped him with his depression, or made any effort to find out what he was all about, or thought about him as a human being and not just as a video rental customer with chronic late fees, or even really liked him that much, but God, how I loved that man.

His name was Dave Pole.

And he left me this weird package.

See you tomorrow,

Pat Freestone

June 6, 2003

The package looked innocent enough. It was small, about the size of a shoebox, and sealed rather hastily with clear plastic tape. It sat in my bathtub for two days, covered in eighteen inches of water. After that, I assumed it would not explode when I opened it.

Instead, it unleashed a furious Pandorian swarm of sin and despair upon the world, the very instant I lifted the lid. From that moment forth, humankind would no longer be free from evil. I had forever tainted our kind and just civilization.

Actually, no.

Actually, the box contained the last thing you would expect a cable television writer to possess, let alone bequeath to a video store clerk he barely knows.

At last count, it looks like about $132,000.

It's payday, motherfuckers.

Pat Freestone

June 9, 2003

Thanks to the $132,000 inheritance I received last week from the self-loathing but philanthropic cable television writer, I am no longer Pat Freestone, the struggling-to-make-ends-meet, working class chump. I am now a man of means. I am now Pat Freestone the Hundredthousandaire.

And to celebrate my good fortune, I proudly welcome you to

Pat Freestone the Hundredthousandaire's Extravagant
and Unnecessary Items Mail Order Catalog Shopping Frenzy


Keep the change,

Pat Freestone

June 10, 2003

To kick off

Pat Freestone the Hundredthousandaire's Extravagant
and Unnecessary Items Mail Order Catalog Shopping Frenzy

I've purchased something practical, functional, and indispensable for anyone with 20-400,000 vision. I'm sure that once I receive it, install it, and ultimately tire of it, I will wonder how I ever lived without it.


Lookin' good,

Pat Freestone

June 11, 2003

Welcome to day three of

Pat Freestone the Hundredthousandaire's Extravagant
and Unnecessary Items Mail Order Catalog Shopping Frenzy

Now Pat Freestone, as you may recall, was once a smoker. A no-good, yellow-toothed, hot-boxin' cancer cloud. But now, I have seen the other side of the rainbow, and it is a smoke-free environment. I choose to breathe. I choose to live. For I am better than you.


Pat Freestone

June 12, 2003

As I have learned from past experiences, forgetting someone's birthday can be very unpleasant. When I say "someone," I mean Mother. And when I say "unpleasant," I mean getting beat half to death with a saucepan.

Forget me not!

Pat Freestone

June 13, 2003

Thanks for joining me for day 5 of

Pat Freestone the Hundredthousandaire's Extravagant
and Unnecessary Items Mail Order Catalog Shopping Frenzy

Now some may say that this particular purchase was a waste of money, as my apartment building does not allow pets. But how could I say "no" to that great big brown eye!


Have a nice weekend.

Pat Freestone

June 17, 2003

The impulse spending continues here at

Pat Freestone the Hundredthousandaire's Extravagant
and Unnecessary Items Mail Order Catalog Shopping Frenzy.

P-tizzle Free-stizzle is kickin' it on the d-l. I think.


Pat Freestone

June 16, 2003

Welcome back to an unprecedented second week of

Pat Freestone the Hundredthousandaire's Extravagant
and Unnecessary Items Mail Order Catalog Shopping Frenzy.


A few words about money:



Pat Freestone

June 19, 2003

Thanks for your thinly veiled envy and barely-restrained jealous rage at the mere mention of the phrase

Pat Freestone the Hundredthousandaire's Extravagant
and Unnecessary Items Mail Order Catalog Shopping Frenzy.

A must-have!


Pat Freestone

June 18, 2003

Now, ordinarily Pat Freestone isn't one to follow sports. But that doesn't mean Pat Freestone isn't one who enjoys watching sweaty young men running around in tights, joyfully embracing on grassy fields, and playfully slapping each other across the buttocks.


Punt a grand slammer for me, Dr, J!

Pat Freestone

June 20, 2003

Surprise, surprise.

Now that I have become a man of means and affluence, and a collector of expensive and useless high-tech gadgetry, I am faced with a new dilemma. It is one that I have thus far not encountered in my forty-plus years on this planet, and more importantly, one that terrifies me to the core. It is a predicament that baffles my spirit and boggles my mind, even as it sweeps down upon me with the inevitable predictability of high tide. For now that I am a hundredthousandaire, a whole new world has been opened up for me, and it scares me to death.

And she is called woman.


Pat Freestone