Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Death Kick


I just can't afford to go tanning.



Gas prices are actually going down a little bit, but I won't be happy until we're back under $2/gallon...so I'll probably never be happy again.




Please tell me "WEIGHT LOSS" doesn't refer to abortions.



That's not funny. Abortion is nothing to joke about and neither is death...or so I've been told. I disagree. I'm actually on a death kick with a lot of my writing. Exploding heads, executions, dogs eating carcasses, daters eating babies...all of these things are being featured in my recent writing, and I swear it's funny.

I must be working out some issues.

Defamous

"Make that change." That's good advice, Michael. I don't care that you might have been imagining yourself hiding in a junior high boys' locker room when you wrote those words. I have still taken them to heart. That Man in the Mirror got a good starin' down this past week, and things aren't the same anymore. And I don't think it's just me. Everybody seems to be making changes. The pancake of life is being flipped. The underwear of life is being turned inside-out. Change is in the air. Change is posted on light posts in Hollywood. Quick question regarding the photo to your left. How many actors trying to learn how to do a good Scottish inflection do you think called before they had to add "FOREIGN SPEAKERS" to the advertisement? And can you ever really eliminate an accent? Can't you just learn to use a different one? The whole business is illogical.

Apparently, I'm not the only one who thinks that Robin Williams looks like a uterus as evidenced by Defamer linking my latest post. That was pretty awesome...but not nearly as awesome as finding out that Warner Brothers, producers of License to Wed, sent around a company-wide memo that included a link to the Defamer article! How do I know this? I have spies. That's how. Single File Spies.

Little do Warner Brothers know that the originator of that anatomical comparison to their major motion picture interviewed for an entry-level position at their studio lot today. Totally true. I didn't mention the blog, though, figuring that most bosses don't want their underlings to have a national audience. (Do not look at the hit counter.) I aced the Microsoft Word skills test and typed 80 wpm, so I'm expecting a call from them pretty soon. Actually, the interview did go decently, and I'm qualified for the position, but honestly something didn't feel right about the whole experience. Something inside of me said that I wasn't getting the job. I got the feeling Daffy knew something I didn't.


Pictures!



George Clooney parked his ego here.



My head asplode?



When this building eventually collapses, it will be the first ever pratfall from beyond the grave.



Hey, that looks like a penis!

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Starring Robin Williams as The Uterus

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Wednesday, June 06, 2007

What? No Silver Platter?

Me? Drive David Carradine? THE David Carradine? Sure--I mean, of course! I'd love to drive him! Oh man, this is going to be so great. Me and David Carradine riding around in my Sentra. We'll become best of friends! I just know it!

And we did become best of friends. We talked about life. We discussed Betamax vs VHS. We talked about David's book which bombed because he didn't promote it. He smoked in my car...with the windows up. We listened to his CD which he gave to me. Everything was going just swimmingly...

...until his head fell off!






Besides the initial heavy rush of grief that hit me after realizing my new best friend was now dead, I also felt a sudden powerful panic. I was David Carradine's driver! They trusted me with his life, and I failed them. His head fell off while in my care! In my care in my car! Not that I had anything to do with his head falling off. I mean...it just fell off! Look, the guy did a lot of kung fu back in his day and maybe he took a few too many chops to the neck. Add all of those cigarettes smoked inside cars with the windows up, and I imagine his whole neck region to be pretty dried out. I mean, just a slight tap of the brakes at his age could totally, feasibly cause sudden decapitation. And that's what happened. And that's what I told them. And they didn't care anyways because he was picture wrapped. So, instead of getting yelled at and fired...we all decided to enjoy the Head of David Carradine.









Like my Head of David Carradine hood ornament?




Everyone's gonna want one!


Eventually, the Head of David Carradine began to smell. Heads don't keep long in the Valley sun. So I had to drive to the desert and bury the Head.



Let's just say that the drive back home from the desert got a little emotional for me.











I'm still sad but keeping that stiff upper lip. I miss you David Carradine...and I miss your head.

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

So sketchy...



A very special treat for you and yours.

Saturday, June 02, 2007

And now it's time for a breakdown.

Actually, it's past time. I had my breakdown Wednesday night while driving back home after having my heart removed from my chest that evening. It wasn't ripped out by anyone else. No, no. This time, I decided to dig into my own ribcage, pull it out myself, and fling it at a girl that I love. Of course, it hit her right in the face and blood got everywhere: all over her clothes, all over the floor, and even some on the ceiling. Not an easy clean-up job to say the least. Why would I do that? What got into me? Because I needed to breakdown.

I didn't realize that I needed a release, but my subconscious did. Unfortunately, my subconscious does not care about the feelings of others, and I dragged someone else through my shit on my way to resolution. I'm sorry about that.

So my friend killed himself, and that sucks. It's not fun to be alone, and hopelessness is my least favorite emotion. He would probably still be alive if he had something to strive for, something to look forward to, something, anything. May we all have hope in our lives.

My work on Hell Ride ended Friday and today I began work on Ball Don't Lie. I haven't received the script yet, but it appears to be a basketball flick. The onscreen talent includes Ludacris, Nick Cannon, Sharon Stone, and Baron Davis. I can't say I'm amped about this project yet. Maybe that's because my first day is on a Saturday. My weekend! My precious weekend!

This film doesn't qualify as "something to strive for" in my life. It's just a job. A way to hopefully pay the bills. Instead, I have been working on my scripts. I have a few shorts that I want to make, and I've been working on tightening the scripts. "Roger, You're Making Me a Fat Ass" was finished last weekend, and I sent it off to David to read. Unfortunately, he is losing a battle with his computer and hasn't read it yet, but his girlfriend shares his email and she read it. That was pretty surprising to hear. I have no problem with her reading it...in fact I love that she did. I want everyone to read my stuff. The really great news? She loved it. Reportedly, she laughed outloud multiple times while reading the script. Gooooood. I can't wait to start shooting it.