11.23.2006

Thumpy Lumpkins has lost his fucking mind.

11.22.06
6:59 PM
On the eighth hour of my twelve hour shift.
I dig overtime.
Started reading the latest Chuck Palahniuk novel (“Haunted”) today. So far, excellent. I am loving the format.
Reading his stuff after so long really made me realize how much I like his writing.
Aside from clothing, a small assortment of CD’s and the usual travel accoutrements, here is what I am packing for my trip home:
The other 14 Bond movies
Volume 4 of Family Guy
I am a simple man with simply needs.
I’ll be swinging by Miami on Sunday night to see Phil before my eye gouging appointment on Monday morning, but other than that, I’ll be racing Bearsy Boo back and forth around the back yard until I puke.
Also, I will be eating pie.

11.15.2006

On Her Majesty Only Twice

11.15.06
4:50 PM
In the first five minutes of “You Only Live Twice” we see an astronaut go hurtling off into the vast coldness of space, hear James Bond says the words, “Why is it that Chinese girls taste different than other girls?” and then watch as he is killed.
Stakes…you have just fucking been raised.
An alternate title for this movie might very well be: “James Bond Goes To Japan” or “James Bond and the Ninjas”.
Pesky old SPECTRE is at it again. But this time they are taking money from the Japanese to start a world war between Russia and the US. God damn they are an efficient people.
AND we finally get to see the face of SPECTRE leader…#1.
He is an ugly, ugly man.
We see the first ridiculous Big Bad Guy Hideout. In this case, the inside of a hollowed out, dormant volcano.
We also hear the head of the Japanese Secret Service say, in reference to a woman Bond has chosen as his massage girl, “She is very sexyful.”
This line had the honor of being the first thing added to the Wall O’ Stuff in my dorm senior year.
This is one of the most parodied Bond’s, lampooned by both Austin Powers and The Simpsons (“You Only Move Twice” from the epic and perfect season 8).
The theme is a great one as well. Very fitting for the movie, although they never really explain how Bond survives being folded up into a diabolical Murphy bed and hit with like 1,000 rounds from three sub machine guns.
One of the most important elements of this movie is that James Bond is now a ninja. He had a three or four day crash course and now he is one with the shadows. In fact, he even kills a man with a throwing star. It is fantastic.
In the end, #1’s cat freaks out, there is one of the coolest scenes ever in which the Ninjas storm the base and face off against the forces of SPECTRE* where they fight with guns, swords, grenades, throwing stars and sheer brawn, and the whole fucking place explodes when #1 pulls the self-destruct lever.
Excellent Bond movie.
As for the ladies…
You Only Jizz Thrice = 3 (cute Asian JSS liaison who later gets the poison that was intended for Bond, ANOTHER smoking evil Redhead who turns out to be none other that SPECTRE’s #11**, another cute Asian girl who does not get poisoned…that we know of.)

*Ladies, if you are ever with a man and he is having erectile troubles, just say the phrase “SPECTRE vs. ninjas” and if he isn’t harder than steel in an instant, he is not a real man and should be castrated.

**She was fed to piranha for failing #1. Hottest fish food I have ever seen.

Now, what could be more shocking than killing James Bond in the lead in? Replacing him with another actor of course!

“On Her Majesty’s Secret Service” ushered out the Sean Connery Bond and ushered in the George Lazenby Bond.
For one movie.
Then Connery was hastily ushered back in, in hopes that no one would remember “that Australian guy”.
And what better way to make us forget a Bond than to dress him in a kilt?
If you think I’m kidding, that’s all right. I don’t believe it either.
This guy wasn’t a terrible Bond, but he just didn’t have the face for it. It was sort of soft and forgettable, but other than that, I think he was okay.
OHMSS was when the tongue was surgically grafted to the cheek. You can tell because the first line of the movie is Q telling M the benefits of miniaturizing, then showing him Q Branch’s latest breakthrough…radioactive lint. The tongue on cheek action doesn’t end there though…
At the end of the lead in, we see a mysterious girl taken from Bond by kidnappers. After they have driven away, he turns to the camera (right at the fucking thing) and says, with a grin, “This never happened to the other fellow.”
On one hand, this could be an implication that the rank of 007 and the name of “James Bond” are just numbers, masks and that ANYONE can be Secret Agent James Bond, 007…but no, that was the late 60’s sticking its diseased fingers into the Bond franchise. Let’s go smoke some opium.
Aside from these two cheeky/tonguey moments, we see Bond resigning from MI6 and then packing a bag. He begins to remove items from his desk…first, the knife and scabbard that Honey Ryder was wearing in “Dr. No”, then the wristwatch/garrote wire that belonged to SPECTRE henchman Donald Grant in “From Russia With Love” and finally, the tiny breathing apparatus from “Thunderball”. When each item is pulled out, a snatch of the theme from that movie is played.
If that wasn’t enough, at one point, Bond is being escorted (at gunpoint) to meet who he thinks is a Big Bad Guy (but who turns out to be an ally named Count Draco) we see a midget janitor sweeping up…and whistling the “Goldfinger” theme.
Subtlety, thy name is Whistling Midget.
This movie focuses on Operation: Bedlam which is all about finding Ernst Stvro Blofeld after he escaped from the exploding volcano in “You Only Live Twice”. Bond hooks up with this Count and agrees to marry his daughter (Tracy) is exchange for info on Blofeld’s whereabouts. Romance xmax.
After a montage, her and James fall in love and Bond discovers part of Blofeld’s insidious plot. He then disguises himself as a genealogist and is taken to Blofeld’s hideout/research facility/mountain getaway. We see Blofeld is now Telly Savales, but since Bond is now George Lazenby, no one says anything.
This actually bothers me a bit: at the end of “You Only Live Twice”, Blofeld (Donald Plesance in this movie) and Bond come face to face for the first time, yet when Bond meets him in OHMSS, there is no recognition on either part.
We get to check out the first of several ski chases, complete with crazy stunts and terrible blue screen and M’s home, where we learn he is into butterflies. How British…spearing and quietly cataloguing beautiful, dead insects.
Bond finds out that Blofeld is brainwashing a bunch of International hotties to use them to spread a plague of his own invention called Virus Omega. Sounds scary but…Telly Savales. Bond and Draco drop in on Blofeld and blowfeld the shit out of his operation. All is well until the end of the movie…
The end of this movie made me cry as a child and, to this day, I have only seen it three times.
Once when I was a child, once my sophomore summer at Fordham and earlier today.
As a child, my mom would take me to Couch Potato Video on 2nd Ave. between 69th and 68th (it’s gone now, replaced by something colder and more modern) and I would, like all 7-year olds, look at every fucking movie in the place, and then rent one of the 30 or so I always rented (Labyrinth, Care Bears, some fairy tale series that used big name actors and told the original stories without the Disney glammer, Police Academy movies, Little Shop of Horrors (musical version) and others). All the Bond movies were in the same place and each one was watched so often by me that they each had an emotion attached to it. I remembered feelings rather than scenes. Every time I saw the box for OHMSS, I became sad. I’m not talking about pouty sad, I’m talking about tears welling up in my eyes sad.
What is it that so traumatized little Paul you might ask? Well, I’ll tell you.
After a prolonged luge chase (only one in the series regrettably), Blofeld appears to have been killed and Bond is married to his love, Tracy.
While driving to his honeymoon with Tracy, he pulls over to change a tire.
Suddenly, Blofeld and his heanchcow, Frauline Bunt, roll up and pull a fucking drive-by on Bond and his new wife.
Now, obviously an adult, knowing the dangers of Bond’s career, would have seen this coming, but as a wide-eyed, innocent 7-year old, I did not.
When I found out that James Bond’s new wife was dead, killed by Blofeld, I was ruined. I cried and cried despite the fact that “it was just a movie, it was just a movie” as my mother kept telling me. I felt so bad for James Bond, who was the sun and moon to a kid like me, and I was so affected by the death of his wife that I didn’t watch the movie again for about 15 years.
Upon this reflection, a greater truth becomes apparent: I don’t think I am able to say with any authority that any of these movies are good or bad. I can only talk about them and how good I think they are. As in, they are all good, but some range from good to super good to good xmax etc.
Keep that in mind, if you would.
On Her Majesty’s Swollen Bellend…
OHMSS = 3 (Tracy Draco Bond—pre-assassination, British chick who was allergic to chicken that sort of reminds me of Frenchy from “Grease”, foreign chick who was allergic to potatoes)

11.14.2006

Thunderfinger

11.14.06
3:20 PM
I think that’s better than “Goldenball”.
Anyway.
So, I have recently consumed “Goldfinger” and “Thunderball”.
“Goldfinger” sees the introduction of a lot of crazy staples that stick with the Bond franchise for years to come.
First, the car. Gotta love the car. This one was a hot little Aston-Martin with smoke screen, oil slick, machine guns, bulletproof windows and…a goddamn ejector seat.
However, Bond thought Q was joking as well, so the creators of the series aren’t so oblivious to the fact that an ejector seat is ridiculous.
Aside from the car, Q gives Bond some homing devices. One that fits in his shoe.
This encounter is the first time you see Bond getting sassy with him. I love their dialogue. Sooooo smarmy.
Next, we have the henchman. In this case, the huge, hat throwing Korean henchman named Oddjob. The less said about him, the better, but the tradition started by him is somewhat constant throughout the rest of the series. Before Bond gets to the Big Bad Guy, he must dispatch the Weird Henchman. Move over Countless Anonymous Hired Goons, this motherfucker can throw a hat, this motherfucker has metal teeth and this motherfucker is a robot vagina. Seriously.
Then we have the ridiculous names; two is this movie alone. First there’s the Big Bad Guy: Auric Goldfinger. Wow. As if this guy didn’t exude “I like gold” enough with the last name of “Goldfinger”. Ian Fleming had to have the first name include the Latin word “aura”…which means “gold”. So, James Bond…meet Gold Goldfinger…he likes gold.
And while you’re at it…meet Pussy Galore. She is a female activist. Seriously.
Actually, she is a pilot. In fact, she is the leader of “Pussy Galore’s Flying Circus”. Now, what do you think people are more interested in…the “flying circus” or the “Pussy Galore”?
Yes.
And, although Pussy is the first really ridiculous name, Honey Ryder (from”Dr. No”) is rather silly as well.
Now, this must be made clear: even though this chick’s name is an apt description of James Bond’s favorite food, she is portrayed as a very strong female character.
Not that that makes it all that much better mind you, but you know.
In this film we also see two of the most memorable Bond moments: Bond strapped to a golden table while a laser slowly makes its way towards his balls and Bond looking sexy despite (or because of) wearing a baby blue, one piece, terrycloth chemise. Rowr.
As for the Bang-O-Meter…
Goldfinger = 2* (Jill Masterson, who was later killed for sampling the forbidden fruit that is James Bond and after her, the one, the only…Pussy Galore)
*A record low, although it is implied that he nailed this chick before the movie actually started, but that’s not what this is about. Asshole.
Next up: “Thunderball”.

First off, what the fuck is a thunderball? I’ve heard of a thunder clap and a thunder storm and even Rolling Thunder…but what the fuck is a thunderball?
According to the nearest dictionary: nothing.
That’s not true though. “Thunderball” is possibly one of the best Tom Jones songs ever. In fact, there is a rumor that after expelling the long, lusty and powerful last note of the theme song, he actually passed out. I’ll have to ask him one day.
The lead in to this movie has two more memorable Bond moments: the first is Bond beating the living shit out of a man in drag (who turns out to be SPECTRE #6) and then escaping with a goddamn jet pack.
This movie pulls it back a bit as far as gadgets and people with metal for hands. Bond is once again pitted against SPECTRE And we even get to see the full council. There appear to be about 11 members of SPECTRE, only two of which Bond has killed personally (that was Dr. No and technically, Bond didn’t kill him, the boiling radioactive water did and #6, the crossdresser whose neck Bond broke with a poker). The other three (#3, #5 and—at the end of “Thunderball”— #2) were killed by others.
In this meeting, we see that #5 has been replaced, but before everyone celebrates the full quorum, #1 fucking explodes #9 for embezzlement. Honestly, who in their right mind would steal from SPECTRE? #9 deserved what he got.
Anyway, there is a lot of maritime shit going on in this movie. The Big Bad Guy has a shark tank that Bond inevitably ends up in, a boat with an underwater hatch and a breakaway hull and the name Largo which, I think, means “lake” in Spanish or some other language.
Bond straight up calls him out as SPECTRE the first time he sees him and that was very interesting to see. Usually there is all this cat and mouse stuff until in the last half hour, SPECTRE is revealed to be the culprit and all hell and lasers break loose.
Not that there isn’t all that cat and mouse stuff in “Thunderball”. There’s plenty of that and it has made me realize that Bond villains are the best hosts ever. In four movies they have given Bond food, shelter, Pussy Galore and pussy galore.
Maybe for my 27th Birthday party I will play a Bond villain and totally lavish everyone up before killing them or something.
Just an idea.
In the end, Largo gets a harpoon in the spine. And I am okay with that. He is a douche.
This movie also marks the first naked-silhouettes-in-the-title-sequence.
Aside from a Geiger counter/watch, a pocket sized breathing apparatus, a mini flare gun, a homing device in a pill and *GASP* an underwater camera (!!!) there’s the same Aston-Marin from “Goldfinger”. He conveniently uses all of them.
Here’s a question: should Bond always use every single gadgets he gets?
On one hand, it’s a bit too deus ex machina if he is in a situation where he would be dead meat except for a very specific gadget, but on the other hand, what’s the point of giving him a case full of crazy spy shit if he never uses it?
I like the gadgets, but I like that Bond thinks of an interesting way to use them rather than following the instructions.
For instance, the grenade/pen from "Goldeneye" is a good one because you never know when you need a grenade, but some other things are for situations SO specific you are pulled out of the movie.
Almost forgot, this movie shows us Bond completely helpless for the first time. We see him as a human calling for help rather than a shiny spy robot. We don’t see a whole lot of that in the series (I don’t think), but I think they go into more stuff like that in the books. But this has nothing to do with the books, so fuck it.
And speaking of fucking it…
Thunderball = 3 (hot, little spa employee…in the steam room no less, smoking hot redhead SPECTRE chick who he says he fucked “for King and country” and that “he felt nothing”…I think I just found my wedding vows… and finally, Domino, the consort of the Big Bad Guy*…in an underwater sex (un)scene after which Bond comments “I hope we didn’t scare the fish”. Nice.)
*It always adds insult to injury when Bond fucks the Big Bad Guy’s girlfriend. Although it doubles back on Bond when the Big Bad Guy then kills the girl, although it makes a strong statement about Sloppy Seconds.
SPECTRE does not negotiate with Sloppy Seconds.

11.13.2006

From Russia With No

11.13.06
3:22 PM
In preparation for “Casino Royale”, I am planning on watching all 20 (not including the tongue-in-cheek half-parody remake of “Thunderball” from the 80’s) original Bond movies.
I finished “Dr. No” earlier today.
Pure fucking Bond. No silly gadgets or ridiculous stunts and plenty of Scottish smarm.
Even the villain is somewhat normal. He’s just a typical half-German, half-Chinese evil genius who has metal hands.
Yawn.
It was excellent to see Bond using talcum powder and a hair from his head to determine if someone had been in his room rather than a tube of toothpaste containing nanites.
Not that there’s anything wrong with the toothpaste nanites, the laser gun/Polaroid or the wristwatch/buzz saw/electromagnet.
I love the crazy shit they come up with, but I also love the fact that Bond didn’t always have Q Branch to equip him with flying underpants and lemon-powered suspenders.
Anyway, I’m going to have an excellent week.
Why?
Tomorrow the 4th season of Family Guy comes out on DVD, the Sci-Fi thing I did should be up on YouTube, my copy of the Starwood VO is on its way, I’m expecting 6 items from Ebay and, to cap everything off, I will either be seeing the new Bond or…doing something really cool on Saturday.
Since I’ve mentioned it here and there, I’ll probably just being seeing the new Bond, but whatever, that’s a great second prize.
As a side note: anyone interested in going to Vegas with Lauren and I to see Prince on December 10th? Let me know.

5:32 PM
I just finished “From Russia With Love”. This is one of the only James Bond movies that refers to an earlier movie. Actually, aside from “Die Another Day” (the 20th film and the film franchise’s 40th anniversary) none of the other films really refer to any others, aside from a mention of Bond’s dead wife here and there. This one had a great character named Kerim Bey. He was a big political guy from Istanbul and he and Bond had some great dialogue.
In this one, we get a more in depth look at S.P.E.C.T.R.E., the organization bent on world domination. We see their hierarchy and learn that its members are numbered from highest ranked (Ernst Stavro Blofeld) on down. We also see the end of numbers 3 and 5. Poor 3 and 5…
And we see (and by “see” I mean “it’s indicated”, we don’t get penetration or anything…regrettably) James Bond’s only threesome in the series…with two gypsies. Lucking fucking Brit.
This one ups the number of gadgets, but nothing too bizarre.
There is a briefcase that has a teargas bomb that blows up in your face if you don’t open it correctly, a throwing knife, a portable sniper rifle and some gold sovereigns. There is also a little device that let’s you know if your phone is being tapped. Again, nothing too crazy.
One thing I have to point out, Bond’s one liners are usually golden cheese. In other words, they make you groan out loud, but with a smile on your face.
For instance, in “Dr. No”, Bond is being chased by a bunch of assassins in a hearse. The chase ends with the bad guys flying off a cliff and exploding. Some guy comes up and says, “Hey what was that?” or some other generic bystander line. Bond looks at him, smiles and says, “I think they were on their way to a funeral.” You can actually hear the TING as the light glints off his teeth.
There are at least three or four of these in any self-respecting Bond movie, but one I must point out was so stupid it was hilarious.
In “Russia”, Bond is being chased by a helicopter. Long story short, he shoots it down, it crashes and explodes. He looks to the girl and says, “It looks like one of their aircraft is missing.”
That’s fucking hilarious.
It’s like he said, “I shot down one of their helicopters.” Brilliant.
And now, the count:
Dr. No Means Yes = 3 (chick he beats at cards, Chinese/American chick working for the bad guys, shell collecting girl who ends up as his companion until the end of the movie)
From Russia With A Boner = 4 (same chick that he beat at cards*, two cat fighting gypsies, Russian chick who betrays her country for lots of Bond cock**)
* This is the only time you see the same girl in two movies. I guess they abandoned the idea of carrying over women when they calculated just how many he would be dealing with.
**They scrumped multiple times (at least three), but this is about the number of women, not the number of orgasms.
In 20 movies, he must have banged at least 70 women and I’m pretty sure there was no mention of protection in any of these encounters. I’d like to think that some day, all the women he’s boinked and given an STD or child to will rise up against him and get their revenge.
I’m pretty weird though.

11.09.2006

J to the Izz Ames muhfuggin' Biz Ond.

So now it's fucking summer again?!
FUCK YOU GOD!
Also, I just checked out the new Bond movie theme, "You Know My Name" by Chris Cornell. VERY solid.
When it comes to Bond theme music you can go terribly wrong very quickly.
You can pick the wrong voice (Sheryl Crow - Tomorrow Never Dies) or the wrong lyricist (Don Black -The Man With The Golden Gun) or just completely fuck up and go with the most popular artist at the time (Madonna - Die Another Day).
The key to a good Bond theme is to have a song that can fit into your usual catalog as an artist and be accepted as a (semi) normal pop song, have that whiff of cheese that all Bond movies must, by law, contain, have some strings in there somewhere (preferably playing the "Bond Theme" or something very close to it).
I think a few have met all these criteria. They include: You Only Live Twice (covered by Coldplay and Bjork), Live and Let Die (covered by Guns N Roses), A View to A Kill, The Living Daylights, Goldeneye, The World Is Not Enough and You Know My Name.
I have an affinity for most of them since I am a HUGE Bond fan. If I ever become a zombie, putting on a Bond movie would be a good way to distract me.
Speaking of which, would anyone be up for seeing the new one the weekend it's out (the 17th)? We could make a dinner and a movie thing out of it.
I'm craving a Dallas BBQ Pulled Pork Sandwich...and human brains.

11.08.2006

Gwan.

11.06.06
7:26 PM
I’m sitting here minding my own business, reading my book (Moving Pictures by Terry Pratchett) when I hear three what can only be zoologists discussing the ground speed and endurance of a cheetah. Why (you may ask) am I so sure of the vocation of these three individuals? Well that’s simple: because they all sound so ABSOLUTELY SURE of themselves. They aren’t guessing the speed of these magnificent beasts, they are asserting (in the way only a professional in the field under discussion can assert) the speed of these magnificent beasts.
Can you just imagine how slack-jawed with surprise I was when I realized that these three professors of Cheetahtology were, in reality, three security guards here at the Hospital? I don’t know if you can, folks. I don’t know if you can.
The only thing more surprising about their dichotomous occupational history is that there are actually three sides to said occupational history.
Not only are these men security guards AND Cheetahtologists, but they are also political scientists. Twelve minutes around these intellectual giants will tell you that.
I feel dwarfed by the IQs in this room. I mean, I only went to college for four years (and for ACTING! How fucking pointless/useless is THAT?!) and I don’t even remember a quarter of what I learned during my time there, but these guys didn’t even GO to college and yet they have mastered three aspects of our modern society.
Fuck, man.
Holy fucking fuck.
I’m sorry to revert to plain old vulgarity, but that’s what they teach us faggy actor types at our faux educational institutes.
Not like the security/Cheetahtology/political science institutions. That are real. Totally real.

On a topic having nothing to do with smarm: I bought another slew of vinyl again today.
Bad Paul-with-super-combustible-money!! Bad!!
I do enjoy the aesthetic of the medium though.
I love having a 12” by 12” versions of the cover art to my favorite albums.
And I’ve discovered that Beck was made for vinyl. The gentle whisper underlying each track goes so well with his voice.
Anyway, I’m learning to shop smarter for what I need, so I’m burning less money.
At least my fear that I would never use the records/record player I bought has been allayed.
I use it, and I enjoy it.
And that is what life is all about.
Enjoying.
So, please, whoever you are, enjoy life for just a moment.
Thanks.

11.04.2006

The place to be.

11.3.06
4:31 PM
Very, very excited about tomorrow’s shoot. I just got off the phone with Ray and we have birthed yet another idea. Fucking rock.
Also, today I finished 99% of the filming for “Donation” and the titles and background have been sketched out as well. I’ll need Chris to reshoot something from before and then it will be ready for editing and authoring.
This forward momentum is like some wonderful drug…administered anally by beautiful French women.
Holy blue!!
I have had the “Green Acres” theme song in my head all day and I believe it comes from the tail end of a dream I had last night. That worries me, but only a little.
I found out about 25 minutes ago that I have Tuesday off. Something about an election. I don’t know.
So unless you want me just lying about all day, masturbating to “Green Acres”, get in touch and maybe we can do something…like watch “Green Acres”.
Within a few hours (knock four-leafed rabbit’s foot) I will have a full length, pro shot They Might Be Giants concert ready for burning.
But the best part of everything is that over the past few days I have been having a very interesting pain inside my right arm. It felt like something was trying to push its way out of a long, thin crack in my femur (that’s the upper arm bone, right?). Anyway, the best thing about all this is that the pain has ceased. That makes me feel happy. Happy and invincible, like usual.
That low thrumming noise you hear is my heart trying to vibrate its way out of my rib cage.
It’s a good feeling.

P.S. I am going to celebrate my happiness with a huge fucking burger from Burgers, Inc. (Phat Burger that was) and maybe some crazy, heart-incinerating side dish like chili.
God bless beautiful downtown Grozny.

11.02.2006

O Menina

11.2.06
10:?? PM
Is it fucking winter yet? God damn.
Either this weekend or next weekend, Leah is coming to town for brunch. Woo! I enjoy Leah.
This weekend, I am shooting the “Snack Tragedy” portion of the Doritos commercial.
You know, one of the greatest things about having Ray as a friend is that when he and I come up with a great idea, we actually follow through with it. It goes from idea to realization in the blink of an eye when compared to a lot of ideas I have collaborated with people on. Was that terrible grammar or what? Check me out.
Now, just to elaborate: that comment about idea realization was not a shot at Phil or Will, (with whom most of the best ideas in the world are created. They are hundreds and hundreds of miles and several hours away from me and when we are all together, we are so limited as far as time that we end up just having excellent fun rather than slaving over the blast furnaces that are our collective minds. I’m sure if the three of us were allowed a much longer period than one measly weekend together that we would carry out one or several of our ideas and sink a continent or two. Or cure AIDS. Or both. Perhaps we would find a way to gather all the people with AIDS onto a continent, and then sink it. Hmmm...)
No, this is less of a negative comment towards anyone as much as it is a positive comment on how wonderful it feels to have an idea and then see the idea brought to its full potential within a set time period.
I feel like people who sit around and say, “Oh! Dude! We should TOTALLY film that!! That would be AWESOME!!!” and do nothing about it are maybe a dot above the wastrels that are potheads.
Fucking idiot potheads.
Stealing my oxygen.
Anyway, it just feels good is all.
Like me with the short films.
I am still working on the second cycle but I just can’t seem to find all the scene partners I need.
I might also need a guest cameraperson again.
But within a week or so “Donation” should be released.
I honestly don’t think it’s as good as “Taken From Me”, but then again they come from two totally different places in my mind and both were written using different methods so who knows.
Certainly you don’t.
Ball.
Had an excellent shower today.
Refreshing.
On a totally unrelated note, I watched “Transamerica” a few days ago. Very good movie. It was a lot less heavy than I thought it would be. That’s good.
I finished the second most new Gaiman book (Anansi Boys). Not American Gods by any measure, but it was pretty good. I’m going to read some Pratchett before I read Fragile Things, the new Gaiman (a collection of short stories). His short stories are some of the best I have ever read. I mark a good short story by how much I want it to continue. Gaiman scores high.