WHAT AREN'T YOU GETTING?
GAWD!
But, yes, I am excited to say I'm not just making this up and even more excited to inform you that one of the scripts I'll be recording is about bacon.
Bacon: The Food of Joy.
And it is delightfully, sexily over the top, a state in which I reside, at all times, hence my oft overused hyperbole.
Is there a regular, non-hyper bole?
I'm going to check...
Hm.
According to dictionary.com it's the stem or trunk of a tree.
Hm.
Well, that makes absolutely no fucking sense...
Assholes.
Anyway, yeah, one's about bacon, and one is about popcorn chicken and the third is about tomatoes...but I haven't read that one yet.
I'll do that now!!!
Okay, the tomato one is pretty funny too.
And ALL THIS came from my superhot home studio set up.
WOO!
That's on Wednesday, and, tomorrow, I have an audition for audible.com which sounds kind of bland, but, perhaps I can bring some sizzle.
Because that...is what I do...bring sizzle.
Would you like some sizzle?
:::call me:::
In other news, Hurricane Sandy did nothing to affect me.
Nothing.
It's getting to the point where I am starting to feel guilty about telling people this because so many have been totally fucked by this thing.
But, yeah, nothing.
We had some rain.
And my pizza place wasn't delivering.
Skipping the rest of that; the Halloween party was a success, even though about a quarter to a third of the people there were either friends of friends or friends of friends of friends.
All good people all having good fun.
Special shout out to Fitzy for opening and then pretty much closing the festivities despite knowing a total of two people at the whole thing.
And also for letting me call her "Fitzy".
Say it alud, it's awesome!*
FITZYYY!!!!
Love it.
Jen and I are still carving our way through the zombie (and J'Avo) hoards in Resident Evil 6. We're two final chapters (Leon/Helena's and Jake/Sherry's) away from the "end"**. All in all, I think hearing all that negative shit about the game before I played it helped me to get over it, that, and the fact that a lot of it was just whining about nothing. I will say that split screen is balls for someone with eye problems and the plethora of insta-kill moments get real old, real quick, but, other than those shitty patches, the game has been great, and the complaint that they "tried to put too much into this game" is fucking stupid.
VIDEOS GAMES SHOULD BE A LONG TERM INVESTMENT AS FAR AS ENTERTAINMENT GOES.
That's like complaining about having TOO MANY ORGASMS during intercourse.
Idiots.
So, hopefully, in the near future, Jen and I will wrap this up and find out what in the blue fuck is going on.
But not next Sunday...because I'm seeing the new Bond movie.
And, the day before THAT, I'll be five feet from my apartment, seeing Eugene Mirman and some comics who aren't Eugene Mirman at P.S. 1.
Feeling rambly.
Would like to go home now.
I should have Resident Evil: Damnation waiting for me.
If it is anything like Resident Evil: Regeneration...well, it's going to be unworthy of comment.
Then, once that is out of my house, I shall start getting Community, as everyone in the world has seen it and loves it and shut up I'm going to fucking watch it.
Chris and I recently watched Young Adult, which was...all right, I suppose. Both Charles Thorn and Patton Oswalt did a great job with what they were given, but they weren't given a whole bunch.
The plot focuses around a chick who had a thing with a dude in high school, but as soon as she sees that he's had a kid and is happy with his wife she goes back and tries to "free" him from the relationship.
Has this actually happened to people?
Who would do that?
Then again, who would do space docking?
Enough people that it has a name, so, moving on.
The ignorant wangbanger that has STILL remained here at the Hospital like a tiny clot of feces stuck in one's ass hair is always talking about martial arts.
All the time.
Like he is a master of the arts or something.
He's a fubsy, 50-something, bald Latino guy.
I'd like to hire a ninja to come and kick his ass so I can hear him talk about how exquisite his style was when he inevitably calls his moron, subhuman friend to talk about it.
Ugh.
These guys are so ratty. The way they talk and relate to the world and their voices and the stuff they talk about...just...ugh.
Dog farts.
Those guys are dog farts.
And the one dude's voice sounds like a Yoda made of scabs.
Like, imagine if Yoda was slightly retarded and had a thicker, rougher voice.
This assbag sounds like that.
And every thirty seconds he snorts snot back up his nose rather than blowing it like a human.
Ugh.
The fact that I haven't burned these bastards to death speaks volumes about just how tolerant and loving I am.
But that fact that I think and talk about doing so so often probably does not.
Oh! That's something the fucking hurricane did! I was going to hang with Phil and get him on my fucking podcast b ut shit got so fucked up that it never happened.
Fuckballs.
What a bitch.
Sandy, not Phil.
Phil is eyes deep in editing hell and it's all his fault. Three books in three months...what kind of psycho enters into that Devil's Pact?!
LUDICROUS!!!
MAD LUDICROUSNESS!!!
All right.
It's 10:45.
Fuck off.
*But you MUST say it like a jocular uncle opening his arms to hug a well-loved nephew he hasn't seen for years.
**The fourth and final campaign...Ada Wong's.
Showing posts with label Ramble. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ramble. Show all posts
8.17.2012
Crumb Bums
How was "crumb bums" ever an insult?
Does it imply that one is a bum who likes crumbs or perhaps that they are bums (hobos or tushies) ith crumbs on them?
Get me a literarian, statim!
Emotionally draining week. Rock and a hard place with my lovely lovely and it's neither of our faults. If only this magic bubble in which I exist made money and food and had just enough room for the two of us...
So that should be a massive pain in the soul to get figured out...
But, something that will prove a wonderful (if not permanent solution): I met with one Jess Howell this afternoon and, all you folks on spokes, Unker & Psyia is BACK! Or will be, over pretty much every weekend in September and October right up until Jess leaves for L.A. on November first.
I've just spent the past several hours writing and fleshing out scripts and sketches that we brainstormed this afternoon*, and, as always, the creation of original ideas felt glorious.
In recent years, I've realized that, while fun, references to other peoples' work can only be so enjoyable. The creation of ones' own, original thoughts, jokes, experiences etc. is beyond compare. And yes, I understand that nothing is truly original, but, fuck me for being immodest, I think I'm one of the most original people I know.
And I'll sing opera to a titmouse sleepy off cough syrup and lunch meat if you don't believe me.
Then there's this wedding which I'm not talking about.
Bottom line: by Thursday the 30th, I will no longer be complaining about it.
Bon?
Bon.
Next week looks to be a hairy one indeed...Monday should be just Monday, but Tuesday I'm meeting with Becca, Jesi and Jess to go over a script we're shooting in...a few weeks/a month/2012? that was conceptualized by Becca, written by Alan and their friend Mary Beth and starring me and the Ladies Three.
The writing is nice and snappy and it has massive comic/geek appeal so it should be pretty tasty...if we ever get to shoot it.
Then, Wednesday, I have two bookings in a matter of HOURS because I'm SO FUCKING TALENTED THAT MY SKILL IS JUST SEEPING OUT OF MY PORES LIKE BLOOD-- no, that's blood..
Hm.
Doctor's office!!!Yet another session for Comcast and a quick 15 minute pick-up session for Speakaboos.
The children are frightened of my Humpty Dumpty.
And then Thursday has me catching a 6:30 a.m. flight with Chris to Alaska...the Land of No Snow Even Though It's Fucking Alaska.
At least the polar bears should be easy to spot.
On my way to lunch, I passed the receiving entrance to the Hospital and saw the medical examiner rolling a body out into his truck.
Rattled me but good.
I need to sac up before this Zombie Apocalypse kicks into high gear or I'm corpse fodder.
Could there be anything else worth telling you about?
I'll let you know...
*I did so using Google Docs for the first time. And it sucked hard. Why is everyone jacking off over Google Docs? Yeesh.
Does it imply that one is a bum who likes crumbs or perhaps that they are bums (hobos or tushies) ith crumbs on them?
Get me a literarian, statim!
Emotionally draining week. Rock and a hard place with my lovely lovely and it's neither of our faults. If only this magic bubble in which I exist made money and food and had just enough room for the two of us...
So that should be a massive pain in the soul to get figured out...
But, something that will prove a wonderful (if not permanent solution): I met with one Jess Howell this afternoon and, all you folks on spokes, Unker & Psyia is BACK! Or will be, over pretty much every weekend in September and October right up until Jess leaves for L.A. on November first.
I've just spent the past several hours writing and fleshing out scripts and sketches that we brainstormed this afternoon*, and, as always, the creation of original ideas felt glorious.
In recent years, I've realized that, while fun, references to other peoples' work can only be so enjoyable. The creation of ones' own, original thoughts, jokes, experiences etc. is beyond compare. And yes, I understand that nothing is truly original, but, fuck me for being immodest, I think I'm one of the most original people I know.
And I'll sing opera to a titmouse sleepy off cough syrup and lunch meat if you don't believe me.
Then there's this wedding which I'm not talking about.
Bottom line: by Thursday the 30th, I will no longer be complaining about it.
Bon?
Bon.
Next week looks to be a hairy one indeed...Monday should be just Monday, but Tuesday I'm meeting with Becca, Jesi and Jess to go over a script we're shooting in...a few weeks/a month/2012? that was conceptualized by Becca, written by Alan and their friend Mary Beth and starring me and the Ladies Three.
The writing is nice and snappy and it has massive comic/geek appeal so it should be pretty tasty...if we ever get to shoot it.
Then, Wednesday, I have two bookings in a matter of HOURS because I'm SO FUCKING TALENTED THAT MY SKILL IS JUST SEEPING OUT OF MY PORES LIKE BLOOD-- no, that's blood..
Hm.
Doctor's office!!!Yet another session for Comcast and a quick 15 minute pick-up session for Speakaboos.
The children are frightened of my Humpty Dumpty.
And then Thursday has me catching a 6:30 a.m. flight with Chris to Alaska...the Land of No Snow Even Though It's Fucking Alaska.
At least the polar bears should be easy to spot.
On my way to lunch, I passed the receiving entrance to the Hospital and saw the medical examiner rolling a body out into his truck.
Rattled me but good.
I need to sac up before this Zombie Apocalypse kicks into high gear or I'm corpse fodder.
Could there be anything else worth telling you about?
I'll let you know...
*I did so using Google Docs for the first time. And it sucked hard. Why is everyone jacking off over Google Docs? Yeesh.
7.24.2012
These Knids...They're So Vermicious
Did you know that "vermicious" means wormy or wormlike from the Latin word "vermis"?
That's awful.
Today was busy pants, with me up at 8:20 in order to get to a re-record session consisting of two sentences that needed more sexy from last Friday's Cardiovascular Institute VO.
It was fast and lucrative.
I'd feel guilty...if I weren't...so...god...damned...GOOD.
Then, thinking I would have time to shower and make pretty, it turned out that DBO and her friend, Nurse Rachel, were done with her NYC doctor stuff early, so they came over and we headed to Tuk Tuk.
Thai food is better in the restaurant, don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
Ever.
I'm proud to be counted among Brooke's "other" friends. You know, the ones that aren't rescue divers or astronauts or White House Press Officials or good people who help people with their lives.
Well...not really proud...sort of...accepting?
Yes.
Either way, it was an excellent lunch with two excellent people.
After I sent them on their way to Penn Station, I had just enough time to make pretty and get to work.
Where I soon learned that my wonderful plan of anonymous whimsy and niceness had been thwarted by myself and the US goddamn PS.
So.
I sent Jen Rock a thing in the mail* and addressed it to "Janet van Dyne", the Wasp's secret identity since Jen had just been at Comic-Con cosplaying as Wasp.
No problem, right?
Yes problem, wrong!
Turns out that the Government won't let her pick up this package simply because she doesn't have a valid ID with that name on it!
Bullshit, right?!
No.
Not really.
So I'm an asshole.
I called a bunch of helpful people** and they told me that I'm really quite fucked unless Jen can somehow arrange to get the package in some other fashion.
This package that was meant t be a fun, little surprise.
Ugh.
When I try to be nice, things are awful, so now I have Total Justification for being a Raging Toolbox.
Hopefully this thing will sort itself out...because I'm exhausted.
This evening, I plan to read a bunch of Batman comics, then, when I get home, to watch 30 Minutes Or Less.
I enjoyed Zombieland (even though they said "nut up or shut up" exactly one time too many), enjoy Jesse Eisenberg and, since watching Parks and Recreation, can now tolerate Aziz Ansari.
Game on.
All the way on.
And soon I will have some sort of review thing sort of for Dark Knight Rises, although it's mostly going to be me screaming about how Kevin fucking Smith of ALL PEOPLE should know the value/purpose/proper time to warn of a spoiler and how fucking loud the Dark Knight trilogy is in IMAX.***
All right.
Let's get real.
*That will never be worth all the fucking trouble this has become to obtain said thing.
**Not joking, they were all very nice and helpful
***Hint: fucking very.
That's awful.
Today was busy pants, with me up at 8:20 in order to get to a re-record session consisting of two sentences that needed more sexy from last Friday's Cardiovascular Institute VO.
It was fast and lucrative.
I'd feel guilty...if I weren't...so...god...damned...GOOD.
Then, thinking I would have time to shower and make pretty, it turned out that DBO and her friend, Nurse Rachel, were done with her NYC doctor stuff early, so they came over and we headed to Tuk Tuk.
Thai food is better in the restaurant, don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
Ever.
I'm proud to be counted among Brooke's "other" friends. You know, the ones that aren't rescue divers or astronauts or White House Press Officials or good people who help people with their lives.
Well...not really proud...sort of...accepting?
Yes.
Either way, it was an excellent lunch with two excellent people.
After I sent them on their way to Penn Station, I had just enough time to make pretty and get to work.
Where I soon learned that my wonderful plan of anonymous whimsy and niceness had been thwarted by myself and the US goddamn PS.
So.
I sent Jen Rock a thing in the mail* and addressed it to "Janet van Dyne", the Wasp's secret identity since Jen had just been at Comic-Con cosplaying as Wasp.
No problem, right?
Yes problem, wrong!
Turns out that the Government won't let her pick up this package simply because she doesn't have a valid ID with that name on it!
Bullshit, right?!
No.
Not really.
So I'm an asshole.
I called a bunch of helpful people** and they told me that I'm really quite fucked unless Jen can somehow arrange to get the package in some other fashion.
This package that was meant t be a fun, little surprise.
Ugh.
When I try to be nice, things are awful, so now I have Total Justification for being a Raging Toolbox.
Hopefully this thing will sort itself out...because I'm exhausted.
This evening, I plan to read a bunch of Batman comics, then, when I get home, to watch 30 Minutes Or Less.
I enjoyed Zombieland (even though they said "nut up or shut up" exactly one time too many), enjoy Jesse Eisenberg and, since watching Parks and Recreation, can now tolerate Aziz Ansari.
Game on.
All the way on.
And soon I will have some sort of review thing sort of for Dark Knight Rises, although it's mostly going to be me screaming about how Kevin fucking Smith of ALL PEOPLE should know the value/purpose/proper time to warn of a spoiler and how fucking loud the Dark Knight trilogy is in IMAX.***
All right.
Let's get real.
*That will never be worth all the fucking trouble this has become to obtain said thing.
**Not joking, they were all very nice and helpful
***Hint: fucking very.
7.03.2012
Such Sickness...
Since Friday, I have been sick.
I have also been squatting in my own living room since the AC has gone in and Chris has gone away to the West.
I feel like the smartest, sickest homeless man ever.
I can hear virtually NOTHING out of my left ear due to weird sick pressure head issues and I can't seem to smell anything either.
I have a 2000 word recording session with TransPerfect Thursday morning at 10.
Fuck. Yes.
I also received an e-mail yesterday from my manager checking my availability for next week to go in for a rerecord for a session I did back in March.
Now, here's the deal, the folks from that session back in March, have yet to send my payment.
So.
Here's what I'm thinking...I won't set foot in that studio until A. we get that payment from fucking March and B. we get a written guarantee that we'll have the payment from this session within 2 weeks.
This company makes, literally, billions of dollars a year, they can fucking expedite this.
I don't think that's unreasonable at all and, if it is a little, I have never been a diva in my career and this is as good a place to start as any.
In other "news", since I've been delirious with sickness I have watched the 8th season of The Office (loving almost every second of it, and, although HE says he's never gotten it, I think Flans resembles Ed Helms XMAX), the 6th season of 30 Rock (I saw where my part would have been and, although it would have been awesome to put 30 Rock on my resume, I'm fine now that I did not get it; it was for the voice of Mayor MacBeth/Cheese from the credits of the episode where Liz finds her book from the year before and starts solving all her problems before they occur. I had to do a Patrick Stewart impression. And the addition of Kristen Schaal to the cast might have made one of the funniest things on television even funnier. She is perfect), Red Dragon (Ralph...Jesus...you're a nightmare. Also, I'd probably sleep with a serial killer if I later got to pet a tiger), Paul (the movie, not the me), that Rob Zombie animated film, the Haunted World of El Superbeasto (such a wonderful and pus-filled universe he has created, Sherri Moon Zombie-- which might be the coolest name ever-- does a great job as Suzi X...and Paul Giamatti is one of the most versatile voice actors I've ever heard) and the Doctor Who 8th Doctor TV movie (which was shitty trash ass and pure piss awful. Fear and burn this.).
I also played through Resident Evil 5 on Hard...which is less than Hard when you have a lot of super powerful weapons with infinite ammo, and I finally finished Max Payne 3, which was good looking and functional with a solid noir story, but nothing more.
I'm trading it in for something as soon as I have the time.
Not sure what though, as the new Silent Hill (SH: Downpour) got nothing but shit bags for reviews.
Aside from not really being able to hear out of my left side, I'm actually feeling better, so, tomorrow, Jen Rock and I are going to play through as much of Silent Hill 2 as we can without tumbling into the crimson maw of terror and darkness...so, like, forty minutes. I might put the mattress away...if I have the energy and wherewithal.
The lack of my One and Only plus the effects of my sickness have made me part bachelor (in five days, I have used one bowl, one spoon, one plate and nothing more) and part wounded baby elephant (I've been eating a lot of peanuts and trumpeting).
In short: ay-ee-thang-SALL-fuk-dup.
Finally, after my day of Resident Evil 5, I had an awesome and intense zombie apocalypse dream that was actually a sequel to an earlier zombie apocalypse dream. It involved a secluded lodge house in the woods near a small town with an underground...something...that was causing all the zombie stuff. Aside from regular zombies, there were also huge Lovecraftian mutations running around as well. Utterly horrifying and extremely exhilarating. One part I remember very clearly was sneaking around inside the lodge house and slowly closing the blinds and locking the doors and windows so no zombies saw the people inside. It was during the day and very intense. Then, while making sure everything was shuttered, I saw a massive creature swimming in the river behind the house, something very much like Cthulhu, but more squid-like. If could just plug my brain into my PS3, I'd be the best survival horror game designer in the world.
And my fingers have just stopped working.
I have also been squatting in my own living room since the AC has gone in and Chris has gone away to the West.
I feel like the smartest, sickest homeless man ever.
I can hear virtually NOTHING out of my left ear due to weird sick pressure head issues and I can't seem to smell anything either.
I have a 2000 word recording session with TransPerfect Thursday morning at 10.
Fuck. Yes.
I also received an e-mail yesterday from my manager checking my availability for next week to go in for a rerecord for a session I did back in March.
Now, here's the deal, the folks from that session back in March, have yet to send my payment.
So.
Here's what I'm thinking...I won't set foot in that studio until A. we get that payment from fucking March and B. we get a written guarantee that we'll have the payment from this session within 2 weeks.
This company makes, literally, billions of dollars a year, they can fucking expedite this.
I don't think that's unreasonable at all and, if it is a little, I have never been a diva in my career and this is as good a place to start as any.
In other "news", since I've been delirious with sickness I have watched the 8th season of The Office (loving almost every second of it, and, although HE says he's never gotten it, I think Flans resembles Ed Helms XMAX), the 6th season of 30 Rock (I saw where my part would have been and, although it would have been awesome to put 30 Rock on my resume, I'm fine now that I did not get it; it was for the voice of Mayor MacBeth/Cheese from the credits of the episode where Liz finds her book from the year before and starts solving all her problems before they occur. I had to do a Patrick Stewart impression. And the addition of Kristen Schaal to the cast might have made one of the funniest things on television even funnier. She is perfect), Red Dragon (Ralph...Jesus...you're a nightmare. Also, I'd probably sleep with a serial killer if I later got to pet a tiger), Paul (the movie, not the me), that Rob Zombie animated film, the Haunted World of El Superbeasto (such a wonderful and pus-filled universe he has created, Sherri Moon Zombie-- which might be the coolest name ever-- does a great job as Suzi X...and Paul Giamatti is one of the most versatile voice actors I've ever heard) and the Doctor Who 8th Doctor TV movie (which was shitty trash ass and pure piss awful. Fear and burn this.).
I also played through Resident Evil 5 on Hard...which is less than Hard when you have a lot of super powerful weapons with infinite ammo, and I finally finished Max Payne 3, which was good looking and functional with a solid noir story, but nothing more.
I'm trading it in for something as soon as I have the time.
Not sure what though, as the new Silent Hill (SH: Downpour) got nothing but shit bags for reviews.
Aside from not really being able to hear out of my left side, I'm actually feeling better, so, tomorrow, Jen Rock and I are going to play through as much of Silent Hill 2 as we can without tumbling into the crimson maw of terror and darkness...so, like, forty minutes. I might put the mattress away...if I have the energy and wherewithal.
The lack of my One and Only plus the effects of my sickness have made me part bachelor (in five days, I have used one bowl, one spoon, one plate and nothing more) and part wounded baby elephant (I've been eating a lot of peanuts and trumpeting).
In short: ay-ee-thang-SALL-fuk-dup.
Finally, after my day of Resident Evil 5, I had an awesome and intense zombie apocalypse dream that was actually a sequel to an earlier zombie apocalypse dream. It involved a secluded lodge house in the woods near a small town with an underground...something...that was causing all the zombie stuff. Aside from regular zombies, there were also huge Lovecraftian mutations running around as well. Utterly horrifying and extremely exhilarating. One part I remember very clearly was sneaking around inside the lodge house and slowly closing the blinds and locking the doors and windows so no zombies saw the people inside. It was during the day and very intense. Then, while making sure everything was shuttered, I saw a massive creature swimming in the river behind the house, something very much like Cthulhu, but more squid-like. If could just plug my brain into my PS3, I'd be the best survival horror game designer in the world.
And my fingers have just stopped working.
6.28.2012
Are you a lubriCAN...or a lubriCAN'T?
Bleh.
I can't keep a fucking thought in my head today...which means I'll either die of brain fever or write a screenplay.
Did NOT watch Resident Evil: Afterparty last night because I had to do a home recording for the lovely lollies at TransPerfect. At some point soon, once they overhaul their system, I will be that helpful voice whose face you want to punch for Lenovo. They're either in computers or lubricants*, either way, I'm perfect for them. They just send me e-mails with words, then I say them into a microphone next to my bed, then they give me money. I will tell you a sexy, super-secret secret...I like those kind of acting jobs more than the ones that require auditioning...shhhhhhh...
Then I had to sleep because I had one of those awful auditions where there are other people. It was for some totally amazing web site with a gibberish word as its name.
It's totally going to revolutionize things and the way people do stuff.
Totally.
But I don't think it worked out because I got the note "try it so you don't sound like you're talking about a family members funeral".
In the industry, that is what we call "not promising".
GAH! Fuck! While typing this I just found out I have an audition tomorrow morning at 10:15.
Wow. I'm complaining about auditions...what a cockass.
That's like Phil complaining about having too many ideas for novels or Will complaining about getting invited over to Sir Richard's house (again) for fondue and strip Trivial Persuit...or something.
The good news is the celebrity reference for this is Morgan Freeman. So, I suppose I'd better get busy something or get busy some other thing.
Also, I should stay black and die.
Deep impact.
I guess this means no Resident Evil: Afterbirth tonight either...which leaves me feeling strangely happy...
All right, off to write that screenplay.
I'm calling it "Billy and the Cloneasaurus".
*Personally, I'm a lubrican.
I can't keep a fucking thought in my head today...which means I'll either die of brain fever or write a screenplay.
Did NOT watch Resident Evil: Afterparty last night because I had to do a home recording for the lovely lollies at TransPerfect. At some point soon, once they overhaul their system, I will be that helpful voice whose face you want to punch for Lenovo. They're either in computers or lubricants*, either way, I'm perfect for them. They just send me e-mails with words, then I say them into a microphone next to my bed, then they give me money. I will tell you a sexy, super-secret secret...I like those kind of acting jobs more than the ones that require auditioning...shhhhhhh...
Then I had to sleep because I had one of those awful auditions where there are other people. It was for some totally amazing web site with a gibberish word as its name.
It's totally going to revolutionize things and the way people do stuff.
Totally.
But I don't think it worked out because I got the note "try it so you don't sound like you're talking about a family members funeral".
In the industry, that is what we call "not promising".
GAH! Fuck! While typing this I just found out I have an audition tomorrow morning at 10:15.
Wow. I'm complaining about auditions...what a cockass.
That's like Phil complaining about having too many ideas for novels or Will complaining about getting invited over to Sir Richard's house (again) for fondue and strip Trivial Persuit...or something.
The good news is the celebrity reference for this is Morgan Freeman. So, I suppose I'd better get busy something or get busy some other thing.
Also, I should stay black and die.
Deep impact.
I guess this means no Resident Evil: Afterbirth tonight either...which leaves me feeling strangely happy...
All right, off to write that screenplay.
I'm calling it "Billy and the Cloneasaurus".
*Personally, I'm a lubrican.
6.18.2012
My Week On The Inside
I am allotted 20 paid vacation days a year. I've not, in recent memory, ever used all 20, but, this year, as it turns out, I had to take five days before July...and I did so from last Monday to last Friday. It would have been more wonderful without having five fucking auditions, but I suppose that's kind of like complaining about having orgasms.
The highlights included writing and recording some music for some things I'm working on (and some just because I had the time and inclination to do so), seeing Christina while the sun was still up, sitting quietly in a darkened room with a sumptuous breeze coming in through the window as I watched endless episodes of Parks and Recreation and playing Resident Evil 5 for nearly twelve hours with Jen Rock. Together, we killed SO many infected Africans...it was...horrifying.
I also got chainsawed in half once and only once.
Obviously, I could go for another week (or 70) of just...being, but I'm astounded to find that my first day back at work hasn't been the Screaming Nightmare I'd been expecting. I'm pretty sure it has to do with the fact that, about a month ago, two of the most annoying in my work life were terminated in two days.
On top of that, cut backs mean there are less people in the office with me at any given time. Sometimes, in fact, I have, literally, hours alone to just...be. It's delicious.
Plus, my idiot supervisor (the one responsible for the top picture here) has been replaced by, get this...someone who graduated...from college! We have cogent conversations! Plus, she isn't conniving and snakelike, which is also a plus.
Long story short, returning to work wasn't assy because the job itself has become less assy.
That is a good thing.
And, folks, it's good...when things are good.
Looking forward to yet another Comcast session on Thursday and some huge amazing news coming up on the Speakaboos front soonish.
The weekend brings a housewarming party for the aforementioned Killer Red, J Rock and the weekend after brings about a Moustache Bash for Lisa's birthday.
I plan to have the best moustache...or die trying.
Or not.
But I'll be there, wherever it is.
I feel as if there is more to tell you...but I also feel like your attention has wandered.
Ah, well then, sojourn forth, oh Hyperborean Wanderer! Find thine serpents and banish them!
Or not.
I'm going to get some muthafuckin falafel.
The highlights included writing and recording some music for some things I'm working on (and some just because I had the time and inclination to do so), seeing Christina while the sun was still up, sitting quietly in a darkened room with a sumptuous breeze coming in through the window as I watched endless episodes of Parks and Recreation and playing Resident Evil 5 for nearly twelve hours with Jen Rock. Together, we killed SO many infected Africans...it was...horrifying.
I also got chainsawed in half once and only once.
Obviously, I could go for another week (or 70) of just...being, but I'm astounded to find that my first day back at work hasn't been the Screaming Nightmare I'd been expecting. I'm pretty sure it has to do with the fact that, about a month ago, two of the most annoying in my work life were terminated in two days.
On top of that, cut backs mean there are less people in the office with me at any given time. Sometimes, in fact, I have, literally, hours alone to just...be. It's delicious.
Plus, my idiot supervisor (the one responsible for the top picture here) has been replaced by, get this...someone who graduated...from college! We have cogent conversations! Plus, she isn't conniving and snakelike, which is also a plus.
Long story short, returning to work wasn't assy because the job itself has become less assy.
That is a good thing.
And, folks, it's good...when things are good.
Looking forward to yet another Comcast session on Thursday and some huge amazing news coming up on the Speakaboos front soonish.
The weekend brings a housewarming party for the aforementioned Killer Red, J Rock and the weekend after brings about a Moustache Bash for Lisa's birthday.
I plan to have the best moustache...or die trying.
Or not.
But I'll be there, wherever it is.
I feel as if there is more to tell you...but I also feel like your attention has wandered.
Ah, well then, sojourn forth, oh Hyperborean Wanderer! Find thine serpents and banish them!
Or not.
I'm going to get some muthafuckin falafel.
6.11.2012
Hi, I'm Sisyphus!
And, why am be I Sisyphus? Well, merely because I've taken about three weeks to go through each one of my seven hundred and forty three journal entries (starting March 9th, 2003) and then categorize them for easier readability.
Easier readability for whom, you silly bastard?
Ah, well, you've got me there, it seems!
But, in any case, I did it. The following are the different categries I have created in which to categorize my internet idiocy:
Easier readability for whom, you silly bastard?
Ah, well, you've got me there, it seems!
But, in any case, I did it. The following are the different categries I have created in which to categorize my internet idiocy:
'The Brave One' wrap party, (Old Lady) Playing Piano, 2006 H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival, 2011 Oscars, 24, 30 Ghosts IV, 5:55, 90's Music, ???, A Night Of Harry Carrie and Garp, A Real Good Meal, Abnormally Addicted To Sin, Ache/Spin/Die/Repeat, Acting/Auditioning, Adventure, Adventures In Babysitting, Advil, Aging, Air travel, Album Review, Alice's Tea Cup, Alien, Alien: Resurrection, Aliens, Aliens 3, Aliens Vs. Predator, Aliens Vs. Predator 2, All about me, All Typesa Shit, Amanda Palmer, Amy Hempel, An Excellect Time, Answers to Various Peoples' Questions, Armageddon, Assassin's Creed: Revealations, Audio and Journal From France, Bacardi, Back To The Future trilogy, Bacon, bad Chinese food, bad Romero films, BAILY, Batman: Arkham City, Batman: The Animated Series, Bear Mountain, Beck, BEECHOUZATRONICON XMAX '06, Big Love, Binding Silence, Birthdays, Bite The Music, Bite The Music (v 2.0), Bitter Sweet, Black Swan, Blip, Bond Movie reviews, Bond themes, Boners, Book of Eli, Book Review, Boondock Saints II, Breaking Bad, Brian Froud, British accent, Bronson, Burke and Hare, Burn Notice, Buying Vinyl, Cablevision, Cake (band), Camp Counselor Party, Can't Keep Johnny Down music video, Capitol Lighting, Casino, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory The Video Game, Charlotte Gainsbourg, Childhood, Chinese Democracy, Chris Cornell, Chris Rush, Christina Lind, Christmas, Christmas Presents, Christopher Walken, Chuck Palahniuk, Cloud Atlas, Clousre, CNN, Coca Cola Light, Coffin Cam, Comcast, Comics, Commenting on the weather, Complaining About Trent Reznor, Concert Review, Cookies, Cop Out, Creative Endeavor, Cube, Cube Zero, Daed Island, David Bowie, David Fincher movies, Davidoff Hot Water, Dead Ends, Dead Rising 2, Demon Days, Depeche Mode, Diesel Dance Party, Dirk and Rico, Discworld, Disney World, Dogwalking, Doritos, DOVA, Dreams, Dresden Files, Drunk At Work, Due Date, Eagle Vs. Shark, Edward Gorey's The Chinese Obelisk, Eels, Elongation of Time, Eminem, Employee Evaluation Sheet, End of the Month Music Bitchfest, Essays About Me By Will, Eugene Mirman, Event, Evergreen Financial, Every Day Is Exactly The Same (music video), excellent Chinese food, Eye doctor, Faith, Fallout 3, Fanta, Fast Times At Ridgemont High, Fat People, First entry, Florida, FluMist, Foo Fighters, Food, Fotch, Friday the 13th (reboot), Friendship, Fringe, Fuckblip, Fuckrant, Fuckrant Xmax, Full Dark No Stars, Fuse TV spots, Gaming, garbage not your kind of people review, George Washington Diarrhea, God of War 3, Going To My Cousin's Wedding With Phil, Good Day, Good Will Hunting, Greenberger video project, Greenday, Grey Goose, Grind Show audio book, Guero, Guns 'n' Roses, Guy Richie movies, H.P. Lovecraft, H.P. Lovecraft homage, Haikus, Halloween Freak Fuck, Hancock, Haribo gummi bears, Harley-Davidson, Having a sonogram machine dedicated to me, Heroes, Hipster nicknames, Hitchhiker's Guide series, Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy, Horrible Bosses, Hounddog, How To Destroy Angels, Hunter S. Thompson's audio commentary for Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Hypercube, Hypnosis, I'm A Total Dick, Inception, InFamous 2, Inglourious Basterds, Internet, IRM, It's Kickin' In (music video), Jack Vance's Demon Princes, Jackass 3D, Jade, Jenna, Jess Wade Birthday ARG, Jesus Made Me Muffins, Jesus' Son, Jim Gaffigan, Joel Peter Witkin, Johnny Cash, Juxtaposition of 'dreadnought', Kaitlyn and I making out, Kevin James, key parties, KFC, Kick Ass, Kids, Knowing, Kristin Schaal, Lady Gaga, Le Mot Juste, Le Petit Ecolier, Lesbian wedding, Less Than Zero, Let The Right One In, Life, Linguistics, List of Interesting Words, Lonely Island, Lost, Lysistrata: The Musical, Mad Max, Major Life Breakthrough, Marilyn Manson, Mark Scharfman, masturbating dog casting, Medea, Media, Megan Boggia, Method Soap, Michelle Mumford, Midgets, Mika, Millennium trilogy, Modern Guild, Monkey Shines, Monopoly, Morgan Freeman reading haikus about puppies, Movie Review, MTA, Muppets, Mushy Snuggle Love, Music, Music Review, Music Review Xmax, my awful roommates, my birthday party, my fan club, NBA promo, Nerd Do Well, New Year's Resolution, Nike, Nine Inch Nails, Nine Inch Nails: Live With Teeth (summer '05), Nine Inch Nails: Live With Teeth (winter '05), Nine Inch Nails: Wave Goodbye '09, Ninjas, Nintendo, Ninth Anniversary, No idea, Not Enough Sleep, Nothing, NY), Obituary, Ocean City NJ, Ok Go, Opel, Other Lives, Patton Oswalt, Paul (the movie), Paul McCartney, Peep Show, People Are Wrong (play), Phil, Phil's house, Phone Book Abortion Clinic advertisments, Photo, Photos From France, Plato, Plavix, Poem, pointless (play), Police Academy series, Portal 2, precursor to Lesbian wedding, Prince, Prince lyrics as mission statements, Promotion, Proto-Bite The Music, Proto-End of the Month Music Bitchfest, Questions for Various People, R.I.P. Hunter S. Thompson, R.I.P. Johnny Cash, Radio Stations, Ramble, Rasputina, Rataouille, Really Simple Pun Aggregate, Red Bull experiment, Red Dead Redemption, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Regina Spektor, Relapse, Reminiscing, Revenge of the Nerds, Review, Rock Band 2, Rooftop Machete Party, Rye Playland, Sandwiches, Saul Williams, Schindler's List, Science, Scissor Sisters, Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World (movie), Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World: The Game, Scream, Sentient iPod, September 11th 2001, Seven Perfect Days, Shark Week commercial, Shutter Island, Sick, Silent Hill: Shattered Memories, Smurt, Snow Crash, Song, Song of Fire and Ice, SONOIO, Soul Boner, Speakaboos, Spike Jonze movies, Star Trek, Star Wars, Starwood, STDs, steam rooms, Stephen King, Street Sweeper Social Club, Stylophone, Sufjan Stevens, Sugababes music video, Sugababes music video shoot, Sugar High, Sunir, Surge/Vaut, Suspina, Swedish Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, Swimming, Taint Stain, Taken From Me, tequila, Terminator Salvation, Thanksgiving, That Mitchell and Webb Look, The (Mis)Adventures of Peter Firehead, The 10 Commandments, The 7 Deadly Sins, The Adventures of Guido, The Best Sandwich Ever (film), the Bottle Con, The Broken Movie, The Day The Earth Stood Still, The Gay Pimp, The Girl Next Door, The Graveyard Book, The Hospital, The Human Centipede, The Human Centipede 2, The Inchoate Trilogy, The Internet, The Invention Of Lying, The Lathe of Heaven, The Lost Destrict, The Lost Room, The Man Comes Around, The Onion, The Onion: Best Music of 2009, The Reader, The Running Man, The Shadow, The Shawshank Redemption, The Simpsons, The Social Network, The Social Network score, The State, The Submarines, The Tesseract, The Walking Dead, Theatre Barn (New Lebanon, Theme for Tetsuo The Bullet Man, They Might Be Giants, Things I Don't Like, Things I Like, Timber Wolves, Tiny Dick (song), Tobacco, Tony Hawk, Top 20 Albums, Tori Amos, Trainspotting (book), Trip To D.C. With Phil, Trip To Florida For Christmas, Trip to France, Truth or Dare, Turtleneck and Chain, TV Review, Tyler Perry, Uber Ramble, Ultraviolet, Uncharted 3, Under The Cherry Moon, Under The Dome, Usher, Utter Nonsense, VH-1 Rock Honors, Viva La Vida, Volcanic Sunlight, Watchmen, We Love Katamari, Weddings, Why We Suck, Will, Will and Diana's Wedding, Wipeout HD, Woodstock, Wu Tang Clan, X-Files, X-Men: First Class, X-Men: The Animated Series, Year Zero ARG, Yes Man, Youth In Revolt, Zombies
Some reflections upon looking through the last near-decade of my furious screaming:
- I am brilliantly funny
- Not a lot i these journals prove that
- I have anger issues
Some favorite/best written/more astute moments can be found under the label "Le Mot Juste"; there are 22.
Yeah.
All right.
I've done my part, now, spend a few months getting to know/reknow me and stagger at just how little I'm matured in ten years.
If I think of anything else, I'll let you know.
Be gone.
6.06.2012
Five Stars
Ah ha ha ha ha haa.
As I walked into work today, I was told to see the head of my department, a cool cat named Chuck.
He handed me an envelope and told me he was recommending me as a five star employee*.
Someone...is clearly not paying attention.
Had four auditions in two days and I don't feel great about any of them.
My most recent was for a David Lynch style H&M short film thing in which I had to be peculiar.
Yes, I was peculiar, but I could have been more peculiar.
So, I let myself down on that front.
The others were VO; two for Comcast (I prefer it when they just book me) and one for...something else...which I can't remember...oh, American Express.
They're teaming up with Facebook...because neither one is doing very well, I suppose.
Still sifting through past journal entries.
Still impressing myself.
I've also connected my journal with my Facebook and Twitter.
Which will produce:
Enjoy the deluge of ME.
*Not ironically.
As I walked into work today, I was told to see the head of my department, a cool cat named Chuck.
He handed me an envelope and told me he was recommending me as a five star employee*.
Someone...is clearly not paying attention.
Had four auditions in two days and I don't feel great about any of them.
My most recent was for a David Lynch style H&M short film thing in which I had to be peculiar.
Yes, I was peculiar, but I could have been more peculiar.
So, I let myself down on that front.
The others were VO; two for Comcast (I prefer it when they just book me) and one for...something else...which I can't remember...oh, American Express.
They're teaming up with Facebook...because neither one is doing very well, I suppose.
Still sifting through past journal entries.
Still impressing myself.
I've also connected my journal with my Facebook and Twitter.
Which will produce:
- Unfriending
- Unfollowing
- Uninterest
- Complaints about using words that aren't real
Enjoy the deluge of ME.
*Not ironically.
6.01.2012
The Sorting Twat
After abandoning the burning, sinking corpse-barge that is LiveJournal and importing all my superimportant and relevant and totally smart journal entries to this here Blogger address, I have learned that one is able to label said entries with the topics addressed IN said entries.
Wow.
So, as of right...now, I have labeled about two and a half years worth of my near decade of fuckrants, rambles and fuckrambles®, and I've noticed something...I address a hell of a lot of topics.
My brain is like a beehive filled with angry, stupendous beavers.
A BEEHIVE FILLED WITH ANGRY, STUPENDOUS BEAVERS.
I'm also tired today as I had my most recent recording session with the Speakaboos crowd. We did Jack and The Beanstalk, with me narrating and playing the giant. I was going to play an annoyed cow, but we had some rerecords from previous sessions to take care of as well, so no annoyed cow.
I did get to say a line as an irritated genie in the style of Paul Lynde though, which is better than an annoyed cow.
After that I went home, became sleepy, then set off for a major league soccer audition.
I tried not to laugh, I really did...but...guys, come on...soccer? Me?
You send me out on a Junior Mints audition or a sleeping audition or for some anti-sweating coalition and I am down...but soccer? Sports?
Barking up. The wrong. Tree.
And now I'm here.
Soon after this riveting glimpse into the life of a tall, beautiful voice actor is wrapped up, I'll continue sorting my past journal entries into categories so solipsistic and oblique that you'll HAVE to read them*, just to attain some understanding of me, and then I will finish reading my good friend Phil's latest literary abortion.
Hm. That could be misunderstood.
Phil started writing a new novel and then stopped.
I'm reading it to see if it should remain stopped or if he should consider finishing it.
Not that my word is law, but, sometimes, I my enthusiasm in such matters can be helpful.
So far I'm enjoying it and look forward to the end of chapter fourteen (which is as far as Phil got), at which point I'll ask him what happens next and he'll shrug and I'll cry.
Tomorrow night is Chris' birthday party.
I'll be there.
That's about all I can tell you for sure.
*You probably won't. Won't have to and won't read them.
Wow.
So, as of right...now, I have labeled about two and a half years worth of my near decade of fuckrants, rambles and fuckrambles®, and I've noticed something...I address a hell of a lot of topics.
My brain is like a beehive filled with angry, stupendous beavers.
A BEEHIVE FILLED WITH ANGRY, STUPENDOUS BEAVERS.
I'm also tired today as I had my most recent recording session with the Speakaboos crowd. We did Jack and The Beanstalk, with me narrating and playing the giant. I was going to play an annoyed cow, but we had some rerecords from previous sessions to take care of as well, so no annoyed cow.
I did get to say a line as an irritated genie in the style of Paul Lynde though, which is better than an annoyed cow.
After that I went home, became sleepy, then set off for a major league soccer audition.
I tried not to laugh, I really did...but...guys, come on...soccer? Me?
You send me out on a Junior Mints audition or a sleeping audition or for some anti-sweating coalition and I am down...but soccer? Sports?
Barking up. The wrong. Tree.
And now I'm here.
Soon after this riveting glimpse into the life of a tall, beautiful voice actor is wrapped up, I'll continue sorting my past journal entries into categories so solipsistic and oblique that you'll HAVE to read them*, just to attain some understanding of me, and then I will finish reading my good friend Phil's latest literary abortion.
Hm. That could be misunderstood.
Phil started writing a new novel and then stopped.
I'm reading it to see if it should remain stopped or if he should consider finishing it.
Not that my word is law, but, sometimes, I my enthusiasm in such matters can be helpful.
So far I'm enjoying it and look forward to the end of chapter fourteen (which is as far as Phil got), at which point I'll ask him what happens next and he'll shrug and I'll cry.
Tomorrow night is Chris' birthday party.
I'll be there.
That's about all I can tell you for sure.
*You probably won't. Won't have to and won't read them.
1.06.2012
PANIC, a new ARG
I tweeted this morning, from my bed, that everyone should live each day as if it were their last…before the Zombie Apocalypse.
I began to reflect on said thought and came up with a fun new game for people to play in 2012.
I call it Panic.
Every ambulance that speeds by you contains the first victim of the Zombie Outbreak.
Every phone call is a loved one, beleaguered by hordes of the shambling undead.
Every noise you hear in your darkened home, a hideous creature seeking nothing more than to tear out and consume your brains.
You know how you wake up, have your coffee, check your goddamn iPhone then trundle off to work?
You know how you moan and wail about how sad and staid your life is on your various social networking sites?
I guaran-fucking-tee this will stop as soon as you adopt this new way of looking at life.
Guaran-fucking-tee.
So, give it a try.
It’s about 4:00 on a Friday, play until Saturday, see how it goes.
If you like it, keep playing, if not, forget I mentioned it.
It’s called Panic.
And it will change your life.
I began to reflect on said thought and came up with a fun new game for people to play in 2012.
I call it Panic.
Every ambulance that speeds by you contains the first victim of the Zombie Outbreak.
Every phone call is a loved one, beleaguered by hordes of the shambling undead.
Every noise you hear in your darkened home, a hideous creature seeking nothing more than to tear out and consume your brains.
You know how you wake up, have your coffee, check your goddamn iPhone then trundle off to work?
You know how you moan and wail about how sad and staid your life is on your various social networking sites?
I guaran-fucking-tee this will stop as soon as you adopt this new way of looking at life.
Guaran-fucking-tee.
So, give it a try.
It’s about 4:00 on a Friday, play until Saturday, see how it goes.
If you like it, keep playing, if not, forget I mentioned it.
It’s called Panic.
And it will change your life.
12.09.2011
Things.
12.9.12
3:55 pm
Things and stuff, actually.
This…has been a very long week.
Very.
TWO reasons.
First, the impending release of nearly three hours of new music from one of my favorite artists, which made the minutes pass like hours, and second, the fact that my Speakaboos booking (which I found out about last week) was scheduled from 9 am to 11 am this morning.
And this wasn’t a job where I could gruff my way through like Harley-Davidson or Comcast, a job in which my thick, sleepy voice was just what the client ordered; I was to voice nine separate characters with varying tones, timbres and ranges.
It was actually to be a challenge.
So, since last Sunday, I’ve been going to sleep and waking up an hour earlier every day this week.
I must say, it has been quite a harrowing experience; in some ways good (the massive amounts of time I have before going to work- I did laundry!) and in some ways bad (the pervasive feeling that I was slowly losing my god damn mind as the people around me were turning into tentacular abominations).
It’s certainly helped me to understand why so many of you folks that work a 9 to 5 every day of every week are such blistering assholes.
Sorry, such high-strung, blistering assholes.
I also understand why you all drink so much coffee.
Because you’re weak.
Anyway, this recording was excellent, one of the best I’ve had in a while.
Unlike the well-paying but overall unexciting/undemanding Comcast/Cablevision stuff, this was fun as hell. I gave these characters character, some inspired by my favorites voice actors over the years, some pure me.
Pure. Throbbing. Me.
The segments I worked on (Humpty Dumpty- the egg creature, not the lead singer of Digital Underground, The Boy Who Cried Wolf, Chicken Little, The Three Little Pigs, Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star, and the Tortoise and the Hare) should be on the Speakaboos website (www.speakaboos.com) in about a month or so.
I’ll be sure to keep you posted.
In honor of my weird week of fucked up sleep, I decided to rewatch the X-Files…all 202 episodes (and two movies).
Jenna was right, some of these first season episodes are GARBAGE*.
But Mulder and Scully are just so cute!
And, is it weird that Scully carrying a Walther is arousing?
Something about a hot redhead carrying James Bond’s trademark gun…I don’t know…gets my pickle tickled.
But I digress…sexily.
I’m not sure if I’m going to (be able to) keep up this new sleeping/waking regimen, but we’ll see.
Another thing it’s allowed me to accomplish and a big pebble in the “Pros” jar, is work on some music for a project I’m calling “the Tucker EP”.
Basically, it’s music (all instrumental and created under my ‘pseudonymous’ moniker, no diarrhea here) inspired by Phil’s books.
Aside from the Grind Show theme, nothing else is completed, but I have a few sketches.
Between ProTools and my newly acquired Kaoss pad (thanks again, Will), well, like He-Man, I have the power.
The power to make some badass, creepy drones.
HEAVY DROP!
DUB STEP!!!
GLASS KNIVES!!!!!!
If I do end up getting an iPad, I think I’ll have enough tools to build something interesting.
I just have to stop trying to emulate Trent fucking Reznor.
I’ve finally found a down side to listening to Nine Inch Nails for all these years: I’m thinking/composing like him, but with the scantest fraction of the tools/talent at his disposal.
Mm.
Who knows, I have like, three friends who know NIN, so maybe it’s not such a problem.
We’ll find out when the lawsuits start rolling in.
Tomorrow evening, I will be in attendance at Kaitlyn’s birthday party and, before that, some event relating in some way to the new Dragon Tattoo movie. It’s called Hard X Mouth Taped Shut and I’m not 100% what it is.
But they have some cool looking t-shirts and I want one.
God I’m exhausted…
All right, no more finger talk.
* Their homage to Carpenter’s “The Thing” was pretty great though.
3:55 pm
Things and stuff, actually.
This…has been a very long week.
Very.
TWO reasons.
First, the impending release of nearly three hours of new music from one of my favorite artists, which made the minutes pass like hours, and second, the fact that my Speakaboos booking (which I found out about last week) was scheduled from 9 am to 11 am this morning.
And this wasn’t a job where I could gruff my way through like Harley-Davidson or Comcast, a job in which my thick, sleepy voice was just what the client ordered; I was to voice nine separate characters with varying tones, timbres and ranges.
It was actually to be a challenge.
So, since last Sunday, I’ve been going to sleep and waking up an hour earlier every day this week.
I must say, it has been quite a harrowing experience; in some ways good (the massive amounts of time I have before going to work- I did laundry!) and in some ways bad (the pervasive feeling that I was slowly losing my god damn mind as the people around me were turning into tentacular abominations).
It’s certainly helped me to understand why so many of you folks that work a 9 to 5 every day of every week are such blistering assholes.
Sorry, such high-strung, blistering assholes.
I also understand why you all drink so much coffee.
Because you’re weak.
Anyway, this recording was excellent, one of the best I’ve had in a while.
Unlike the well-paying but overall unexciting/undemanding Comcast/Cablevision stuff, this was fun as hell. I gave these characters character, some inspired by my favorites voice actors over the years, some pure me.
Pure. Throbbing. Me.
The segments I worked on (Humpty Dumpty- the egg creature, not the lead singer of Digital Underground, The Boy Who Cried Wolf, Chicken Little, The Three Little Pigs, Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star, and the Tortoise and the Hare) should be on the Speakaboos website (www.speakaboos.com) in about a month or so.
I’ll be sure to keep you posted.
In honor of my weird week of fucked up sleep, I decided to rewatch the X-Files…all 202 episodes (and two movies).
Jenna was right, some of these first season episodes are GARBAGE*.
But Mulder and Scully are just so cute!
And, is it weird that Scully carrying a Walther is arousing?
Something about a hot redhead carrying James Bond’s trademark gun…I don’t know…gets my pickle tickled.
But I digress…sexily.
I’m not sure if I’m going to (be able to) keep up this new sleeping/waking regimen, but we’ll see.
Another thing it’s allowed me to accomplish and a big pebble in the “Pros” jar, is work on some music for a project I’m calling “the Tucker EP”.
Basically, it’s music (all instrumental and created under my ‘pseudonymous’ moniker, no diarrhea here) inspired by Phil’s books.
Aside from the Grind Show theme, nothing else is completed, but I have a few sketches.
Between ProTools and my newly acquired Kaoss pad (thanks again, Will), well, like He-Man, I have the power.
The power to make some badass, creepy drones.
HEAVY DROP!
DUB STEP!!!
GLASS KNIVES!!!!!!
If I do end up getting an iPad, I think I’ll have enough tools to build something interesting.
I just have to stop trying to emulate Trent fucking Reznor.
I’ve finally found a down side to listening to Nine Inch Nails for all these years: I’m thinking/composing like him, but with the scantest fraction of the tools/talent at his disposal.
Mm.
Who knows, I have like, three friends who know NIN, so maybe it’s not such a problem.
We’ll find out when the lawsuits start rolling in.
Tomorrow evening, I will be in attendance at Kaitlyn’s birthday party and, before that, some event relating in some way to the new Dragon Tattoo movie. It’s called Hard X Mouth Taped Shut and I’m not 100% what it is.
But they have some cool looking t-shirts and I want one.
God I’m exhausted…
All right, no more finger talk.
* Their homage to Carpenter’s “The Thing” was pretty great though.
12.02.2011
The World Of Froud
12.2.11
7:46 pm
Last night, thanks to my lovely taking an amazing puppet/creature crafting class with Wendy and Brian Froud (check out her Facebook for picture of the thing she made, it's astounding), her and I were invited to the opening of the World of Froud exhibit at the Animazing Gallery downtown.
Some highlights included seeing several of Brian's original character sketches from Labyrinth as well as a slew of goblin and faerie paintings and sculptures by Wendy, Brian and Toby (who played Toby AKA the Babe with the Power in Labyrinth and has since become an INCREDIBLE sculptor), participating in an auction run by Lolly Lardpop for a one-of-a-kind Brian Froud painting (Chris and I capped our bidding at $3500 and missed out by $250...we're still kind of fifty/fifty about not getting it...), and then, because of our high bidding, spending the rest of the evening as VIPs of sorts, getting to hang out and talk with Heather Henson (Jim Henson's daughter who sounds a hell of a lot like Sarah Vowell but without her inherent darkness), writer Ellen Kushner and the one and only Brian Froud.
I had a conversation with Brian Froud, the guy from whose imagination most of the creatures from Labyrinth sprang.
I am now cooler.
It was a wonderful, magical evening.
In far more mundane news, I have continued my Fincher Fest, watching Panic Room two nights ago and Fight Club last night.
Panic Room is much better than I remembered it being and I think I figured out why I had such a problem with it when I saw it in theaters, oh, nine years ago.
Thing is, Fight Club desensitized me.
That movie was as mind blowing as anything Chris Nolan has ever done, even more so, and the fact that the next movie after it was shot (primarily) in one room in one house with a cast of less than ten people...well, it just didn't stack up.
But, seeing it now, as an adult and more of a film person (?), I was able to get a lot more of the nuance, the back and forth between Jodie Foster and Kristen Stewart (excellent casting, by the way, they look like mother and daughter), the schizophrenic hysterics of Jared Leto's Junior and the evil of Dwight Yoakam's Raoul.
Obviously, still not as great as Fight Club, but a very good, very well-made film.
Fight Club, of course, is still as excellent as always.
The perfect blend of dark humor, intense action and ridiculous visual effects.
I'm upgrading to Blu Ray as soon as I get the chance.
Also, I remember hearing this on the commentary with Fincher, Pitt and Norton when I watched it with their commentary years ago and it came back to me: despite all the madness and chaos and anarchic overtones of Fight Club, only ONE person is actually killed by violence in the entire movie.
Another person is shot, but that's all.
Compare that to your typical action hero bloodbath and complaining about Fight Club suddenly seems a bit pointless, eh, right-wing fuckos?
Do you mind if I call you fuckos?
Thanks.
Anyway, planning on taking in Se7en for the umpteenth time this weekend and maybe Get Low, which has finally made its way to my home after months of blockage due to me not watching Re-Animator and the HBO Angels In America mini-series.
Next week should herald the arrival of both Zodiac and The Something Something Something Of Benjamin Button, which I hear was also pretty awesome.
I received my script for next Friday's Speakaboos session; I shall play six characters and all of them will sound drastically different.
THIS is why I'm doing this, for projects like THIS.
Teaching kids to read and talking in funny voices.
You know, I had a good feeling when I walked out of that audition, but didn't hear anything so I just chalked it up to fools not understanding my genius (a problem I face, literally, every hour of every day...and that includes the ten or so during which I am sleeping), but then I got the booking and realized that they were all probably still unconscious from the exposure to my genius and quickly forgave them.
I am kind and ridiculously talented.
Also modest.
I am hugely modest.
And well hung.
Have I mentioned that recently?
Well, either way.
I am.
Huge.
Since about midnight last night, I have been absorbing the six track sampler released in advance of the full Dragon Tattoo score (digital release on the 9th, physical release on the 27th) and have been experiencing a sort of aural word association with some of the tracks:
Hidden In Snow - Aphex Twin's Drukqs (specifically the stuff with the hammered dulcimer)
People Lie All The Time - Saul William's Skin Of A Drum
What If We Could? - No association, just caught up in how beautiful and sad it is
Oraculum - How To Destroy Angels' The Believers
Please Take Your Hand Away - No association as this was one of the Comes Forth In The Thaw tracks
Under The Midnight Sun - Bowie's The Motel (specifically the slide guitar from the end)
At this moment, with seven of the thirty-nine* tracks revealed (the full Karen O. "Immigrant Song" cover is available for a buck on iTunes), it seems as if, while the Swarmatron was Reznor and Ross' weapon of choice on The Social Network score, the hammered dulcimer is the selection for TGWTDT.
Quite frankly, I'm going to need some psychotically explosive guitar like that in the more exciting bits of the 8-minute trailer you can find streaming out there now.
Then we'll talk...
Oh, and, finally, you might have noticed that this is going up between the hours of 3pm and 11pm, my standard working hours...well, that's because we just got us a motherloving computer with the motherloving internet here at the Hospital.**
But, there are quite a few administrative restrictions...chiefly enforced by Barracuda.
Anyone know a way to get past it?
I'm quickly becoming a detractor of said program and, as a result, the fish which shares its name.
Will, could you drop Mr. Doom a line and help a brother out?
If you do, you won't just be helping me, you'll be helping yourself find out more about Shock G.
That's a promise.
All right.
Weekend time.
*Read as "thirty-holy-fucking-shit-nine"
**And don't worry, I'm utterly disintegrating the cookies/cache file/temporary internet files and everything else that could expose my three dozen searches for variations on the "clowns fucking dolphins" motif...hey, a new computer demands a new desktop background, right?
7:46 pm
Last night, thanks to my lovely taking an amazing puppet/creature crafting class with Wendy and Brian Froud (check out her Facebook for picture of the thing she made, it's astounding), her and I were invited to the opening of the World of Froud exhibit at the Animazing Gallery downtown.
Some highlights included seeing several of Brian's original character sketches from Labyrinth as well as a slew of goblin and faerie paintings and sculptures by Wendy, Brian and Toby (who played Toby AKA the Babe with the Power in Labyrinth and has since become an INCREDIBLE sculptor), participating in an auction run by Lolly Lardpop for a one-of-a-kind Brian Froud painting (Chris and I capped our bidding at $3500 and missed out by $250...we're still kind of fifty/fifty about not getting it...), and then, because of our high bidding, spending the rest of the evening as VIPs of sorts, getting to hang out and talk with Heather Henson (Jim Henson's daughter who sounds a hell of a lot like Sarah Vowell but without her inherent darkness), writer Ellen Kushner and the one and only Brian Froud.
I had a conversation with Brian Froud, the guy from whose imagination most of the creatures from Labyrinth sprang.
I am now cooler.
It was a wonderful, magical evening.
In far more mundane news, I have continued my Fincher Fest, watching Panic Room two nights ago and Fight Club last night.
Panic Room is much better than I remembered it being and I think I figured out why I had such a problem with it when I saw it in theaters, oh, nine years ago.
Thing is, Fight Club desensitized me.
That movie was as mind blowing as anything Chris Nolan has ever done, even more so, and the fact that the next movie after it was shot (primarily) in one room in one house with a cast of less than ten people...well, it just didn't stack up.
But, seeing it now, as an adult and more of a film person (?), I was able to get a lot more of the nuance, the back and forth between Jodie Foster and Kristen Stewart (excellent casting, by the way, they look like mother and daughter), the schizophrenic hysterics of Jared Leto's Junior and the evil of Dwight Yoakam's Raoul.
Obviously, still not as great as Fight Club, but a very good, very well-made film.
Fight Club, of course, is still as excellent as always.
The perfect blend of dark humor, intense action and ridiculous visual effects.
I'm upgrading to Blu Ray as soon as I get the chance.
Also, I remember hearing this on the commentary with Fincher, Pitt and Norton when I watched it with their commentary years ago and it came back to me: despite all the madness and chaos and anarchic overtones of Fight Club, only ONE person is actually killed by violence in the entire movie.
Another person is shot, but that's all.
Compare that to your typical action hero bloodbath and complaining about Fight Club suddenly seems a bit pointless, eh, right-wing fuckos?
Do you mind if I call you fuckos?
Thanks.
Anyway, planning on taking in Se7en for the umpteenth time this weekend and maybe Get Low, which has finally made its way to my home after months of blockage due to me not watching Re-Animator and the HBO Angels In America mini-series.
Next week should herald the arrival of both Zodiac and The Something Something Something Of Benjamin Button, which I hear was also pretty awesome.
I received my script for next Friday's Speakaboos session; I shall play six characters and all of them will sound drastically different.
THIS is why I'm doing this, for projects like THIS.
Teaching kids to read and talking in funny voices.
You know, I had a good feeling when I walked out of that audition, but didn't hear anything so I just chalked it up to fools not understanding my genius (a problem I face, literally, every hour of every day...and that includes the ten or so during which I am sleeping), but then I got the booking and realized that they were all probably still unconscious from the exposure to my genius and quickly forgave them.
I am kind and ridiculously talented.
Also modest.
I am hugely modest.
And well hung.
Have I mentioned that recently?
Well, either way.
I am.
Huge.
Since about midnight last night, I have been absorbing the six track sampler released in advance of the full Dragon Tattoo score (digital release on the 9th, physical release on the 27th) and have been experiencing a sort of aural word association with some of the tracks:
Hidden In Snow - Aphex Twin's Drukqs (specifically the stuff with the hammered dulcimer)
People Lie All The Time - Saul William's Skin Of A Drum
What If We Could? - No association, just caught up in how beautiful and sad it is
Oraculum - How To Destroy Angels' The Believers
Please Take Your Hand Away - No association as this was one of the Comes Forth In The Thaw tracks
Under The Midnight Sun - Bowie's The Motel (specifically the slide guitar from the end)
At this moment, with seven of the thirty-nine* tracks revealed (the full Karen O. "Immigrant Song" cover is available for a buck on iTunes), it seems as if, while the Swarmatron was Reznor and Ross' weapon of choice on The Social Network score, the hammered dulcimer is the selection for TGWTDT.
Quite frankly, I'm going to need some psychotically explosive guitar like that in the more exciting bits of the 8-minute trailer you can find streaming out there now.
Then we'll talk...
Oh, and, finally, you might have noticed that this is going up between the hours of 3pm and 11pm, my standard working hours...well, that's because we just got us a motherloving computer with the motherloving internet here at the Hospital.**
But, there are quite a few administrative restrictions...chiefly enforced by Barracuda.
Anyone know a way to get past it?
I'm quickly becoming a detractor of said program and, as a result, the fish which shares its name.
Will, could you drop Mr. Doom a line and help a brother out?
If you do, you won't just be helping me, you'll be helping yourself find out more about Shock G.
That's a promise.
All right.
Weekend time.
*Read as "thirty-holy-fucking-shit-nine"
**And don't worry, I'm utterly disintegrating the cookies/cache file/temporary internet files and everything else that could expose my three dozen searches for variations on the "clowns fucking dolphins" motif...hey, a new computer demands a new desktop background, right?
11.22.2011
Skrutz
11.22.11
3:38 pm
That's about where I'm at right now.
Skrutz.
Why am I skrutz?
Good question.
Good.
On Friday, I was asked if I could come into work on Monday, not at 3pm, but at 4:30pm.
I happily said yes and then proceeded to stay up until 6am on Monday, playing the new Assassin's Creed.
I woke at 3pm, showered and went to work.
But (and here's where some of the skrutz comes in), I had a booking with Cablevision* at 10am this morning.
So, I went to beddy sleep at 1:30 this morning, hoping to, I don't know, trick myself into getting a good night's sleep, but no one can fool me.
Not even me.
Or can I?
No, I can't.
Everything was fine, I went out like a light at 1:45ish, only to wake up at 3:45 and then again at 6, 7:30 and, finally, at 9:45.
The booking was from 10am to 2pm and was a bit hurry-up-and-wait because of "crossed wires" and "group failings".
But, it was all good, as the folks from Kirshenbaum Bond Senecal & Partners all have wonderful, twisted senses of humor and we got along thunderously.
Then...at 12:30...Sound Lounge (the place I've been booking a lot of stuff lately) presented lunch...a fully catered Thanksgiving bonanza consisting of everything wonderful you could ever wish for.
Luckily, the client called in and gave notes and I did the last bit of VO before the food kicked it.
At this moment though, the food has officially kicked in.
I'm not one of "those people" who believe there is enough tryptophane in a few slices of turkey to actually affect a grown man like myself, but I do believe that a full tummy (especially when that tummy is full of yummy nummy foodsies) plus lack of proper sleep results in skrutz.
Hence: me, now.
Skrutz.
And yet...I carry on...
Somehow, some way.
LBC, funky ass shit, etc.
So, back to the me.
...have I mentioned that I finished editing my recording of The Grind Show?
I know Phil knows, but...hm...I may have forgotten to mention it elsewhere.
Well.
Done with that.
Taking a bit of a breather and then I'm going to take his notes and implement them.
Implement them xmax.
But Christ the Jesus does it feel good to be, more or less, done with this project.
Now, the ball is in audible.com's court.
Hopefully they'll pass it back covered in honey and thousand dollar bills.
That is how this whole thing works, right?
Balls covered in honey and thousand dollar bills?
Honeymoneyballs?
I've also been reading the new King, 11/22/63.
After the requisite "here's how time travel works in this book" chapters, things were pretty cool; the main character returns to Derry, Maine, about a year after the events of IT and runs into some familiar faces, but after that, things got real uninteresting, real fast and have stayed that way for a while.
And King has actually brought out an argument that is tantamount to the old chestnut "would you kill Hitler as a baby?" and he's (the main character) acting all mixed up about it.
Dude.
Yes.
You kill Hitler.
You always kill Hitler.
As an adult, as a baby, as a sperm in his father's nut sack.
You always. Kill. Hitler.**
Anyway, hopefully things will pick up again.
I've been intersticing the King with some DC comics (which is redundant, but so is the "Rio Grande River" so fuck right off), namely Suicide Squad (pretty good, depending on the writer/time period. Here's a hint: avoid the 80's.), Checkmate (slow), Salvation Run (excellent) and, just recently, Batman Confidential, which has been rock solid for the first dozen or so issues.
The second story arc is a reinvention of the Joker's origin by a guy called Michael Green and it's stunning.
Gives Batman a lot more of the responsibility for what happened...
The art is a bit odd, looks a touch like Aeon Flux at times, but with a lot more lines.
Going back to whatever it was I was talking about before; last week, Comcast called me back for yet another rerecord AND have booked me Monday for yet another rerecord.
I must say, being the "voice" of a certain spot for several months running is a lot better than auditioning and not getting gigs.
A lot.
It's like, "Yeah, we remember you were good that one time, so let's get down to brass tacks. How much for the monkey?"
And you're like, "Just pay me every time I walk through the door."
And they're like, "Have some Thanksgiving dinner on a Tuesday."
And you're like, "Yes. I will."
This is what I was talking about when I said I enjoy being a boy in love with you.
In love with you, girl.
Oh yeah.
Fucking shit I'm tired.
Does Starbucks do Frappucino enemas?
Can I get extra caramel?
And a lot...of whipped cream.
Oh, and go check out that short film that Ray and me and Pete and Jess Howell and Phil (different Phil) did.
I'm scary as shit in it and I did the sound design.
Not the piano, the cool background ambience.
Here's a link!!!
"Bitter Sweet"!!!!!!!!
And, the entry before this is a behind the scenes look...in writing!!!
BLEEDING EDGE TECH!!!
Then:
MONEY FOR DOPE!!!!!!!!!!!
BANGOLIN!!!!!!!!
A DOZEN OYSTERS ON THE HALF SHELL!!!!!!!!!
WOODEN LEG!!!!!!!!!!!!!
GALVANIZED TUB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MONEY FOR DOOOOOOOPE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*Cablevision = enjoying my Kool-Aid
** Would someone please t-shirt that for me? Something pink and flashy? XXL, if you could.
3:38 pm
That's about where I'm at right now.
Skrutz.
Why am I skrutz?
Good question.
Good.
On Friday, I was asked if I could come into work on Monday, not at 3pm, but at 4:30pm.
I happily said yes and then proceeded to stay up until 6am on Monday, playing the new Assassin's Creed.
I woke at 3pm, showered and went to work.
But (and here's where some of the skrutz comes in), I had a booking with Cablevision* at 10am this morning.
So, I went to beddy sleep at 1:30 this morning, hoping to, I don't know, trick myself into getting a good night's sleep, but no one can fool me.
Not even me.
Or can I?
No, I can't.
Everything was fine, I went out like a light at 1:45ish, only to wake up at 3:45 and then again at 6, 7:30 and, finally, at 9:45.
The booking was from 10am to 2pm and was a bit hurry-up-and-wait because of "crossed wires" and "group failings".
But, it was all good, as the folks from Kirshenbaum Bond Senecal & Partners all have wonderful, twisted senses of humor and we got along thunderously.
Then...at 12:30...Sound Lounge (the place I've been booking a lot of stuff lately) presented lunch...a fully catered Thanksgiving bonanza consisting of everything wonderful you could ever wish for.
Luckily, the client called in and gave notes and I did the last bit of VO before the food kicked it.
At this moment though, the food has officially kicked in.
I'm not one of "those people" who believe there is enough tryptophane in a few slices of turkey to actually affect a grown man like myself, but I do believe that a full tummy (especially when that tummy is full of yummy nummy foodsies) plus lack of proper sleep results in skrutz.
Hence: me, now.
Skrutz.
And yet...I carry on...
Somehow, some way.
LBC, funky ass shit, etc.
So, back to the me.
...have I mentioned that I finished editing my recording of The Grind Show?
I know Phil knows, but...hm...I may have forgotten to mention it elsewhere.
Well.
Done with that.
Taking a bit of a breather and then I'm going to take his notes and implement them.
Implement them xmax.
But Christ the Jesus does it feel good to be, more or less, done with this project.
Now, the ball is in audible.com's court.
Hopefully they'll pass it back covered in honey and thousand dollar bills.
That is how this whole thing works, right?
Balls covered in honey and thousand dollar bills?
Honeymoneyballs?
I've also been reading the new King, 11/22/63.
After the requisite "here's how time travel works in this book" chapters, things were pretty cool; the main character returns to Derry, Maine, about a year after the events of IT and runs into some familiar faces, but after that, things got real uninteresting, real fast and have stayed that way for a while.
And King has actually brought out an argument that is tantamount to the old chestnut "would you kill Hitler as a baby?" and he's (the main character) acting all mixed up about it.
Dude.
Yes.
You kill Hitler.
You always kill Hitler.
As an adult, as a baby, as a sperm in his father's nut sack.
You always. Kill. Hitler.**
Anyway, hopefully things will pick up again.
I've been intersticing the King with some DC comics (which is redundant, but so is the "Rio Grande River" so fuck right off), namely Suicide Squad (pretty good, depending on the writer/time period. Here's a hint: avoid the 80's.), Checkmate (slow), Salvation Run (excellent) and, just recently, Batman Confidential, which has been rock solid for the first dozen or so issues.
The second story arc is a reinvention of the Joker's origin by a guy called Michael Green and it's stunning.
Gives Batman a lot more of the responsibility for what happened...
The art is a bit odd, looks a touch like Aeon Flux at times, but with a lot more lines.
Going back to whatever it was I was talking about before; last week, Comcast called me back for yet another rerecord AND have booked me Monday for yet another rerecord.
I must say, being the "voice" of a certain spot for several months running is a lot better than auditioning and not getting gigs.
A lot.
It's like, "Yeah, we remember you were good that one time, so let's get down to brass tacks. How much for the monkey?"
And you're like, "Just pay me every time I walk through the door."
And they're like, "Have some Thanksgiving dinner on a Tuesday."
And you're like, "Yes. I will."
This is what I was talking about when I said I enjoy being a boy in love with you.
In love with you, girl.
Oh yeah.
Fucking shit I'm tired.
Does Starbucks do Frappucino enemas?
Can I get extra caramel?
And a lot...of whipped cream.
Oh, and go check out that short film that Ray and me and Pete and Jess Howell and Phil (different Phil) did.
I'm scary as shit in it and I did the sound design.
Not the piano, the cool background ambience.
Here's a link!!!
"Bitter Sweet"!!!!!!!!
And, the entry before this is a behind the scenes look...in writing!!!
BLEEDING EDGE TECH!!!
Then:
MONEY FOR DOPE!!!!!!!!!!!
BANGOLIN!!!!!!!!
A DOZEN OYSTERS ON THE HALF SHELL!!!!!!!!!
WOODEN LEG!!!!!!!!!!!!!
GALVANIZED TUB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MONEY FOR DOOOOOOOPE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*Cablevision = enjoying my Kool-Aid
** Would someone please t-shirt that for me? Something pink and flashy? XXL, if you could.
8.22.2011
Choose To Diffuse
8.22.11
8:41 pm
I had a random thought earlier today.
What's up with the "gangsta lean"?
Are you pretending to be sleepy?
Or maybe that one of your legs is shorter than the other?
How is that "gangsta"?
"Hey, wow, your left leg is shorter than your right! That's gangsta!"
"I bet you have to buy custom-made shoes and pants! That's also gangsta!"
"You're walking like you're on a boat! That's pirate gangsta*!!!"
*sigh*
God I'm jealous.
Anyway, my Saturday was awesome. Unparalleled.
Chris and I went to Playland in Rye, New York and the only thing that made it less perfect was my own destructive body mathematics (Icee + Gravitron + backward-upside down flippy ride = gastrointestinal fucktown).
It was like Fermat's Last Theorem, but all the variables were replaced with me being a fucking idiot.
It was like Fermat's Last Theorem, but all the variables were replaced with me being a fucking idiot.
However, this place is awesome.
I used to go there with my summer camp when I was a wee tyke and haven't been since then until Saturday.
While they had changed and updated a few things (sorely missed were the Red Baron- which made you feel as if you could easily end your like and the life of others with but a flick of your wrist... the Spider- haven't found anything like it ever, the original, spooky Olde Mill- where a kid lost his hand. For real. It's in the newspaper, the acres of video games and whatever that thing was that spun you around in the strobe light-laden dark and blared Guns 'N' Roses music), the important ones were there, namely the Zombie Castle, the Flying Witch, the Derby Racers (where I actually almost died) and the motherfucking Dragon Coaster.
Also, Chris and I got Carousel Married!
And, probably the most amazing aspect of the day...the whole thing, including all the rides AND transportation to Rye via a train from Grand Central Station: $36.50 each.
Boom.
Duckman.
We plan to weave Playland into some aspect of our marriage celebration.
And most of you will be invited.
Saturday evening we watched Cedar Rapids which was less funny than I was lead to believe, but still a lot of fun and then I learned never to try and record ANYTHING with my wonderful and super professional home studio shit.
Ever.
EVER.
NO NO NO.
I'll spare you the knuckle-busting details, but, yeah, anus hell.
Sunday, the two of us drifted around the apartment like constipated ghosts.
Eventually, Christina decided to finally string our Warlock, only to find out it's awful and harder than it should be to do so.
We rocked out like kids for a few then decided to count the day as a wash.
Once that happened, we had a great time playing Wipeout HD (superfuturistic racing game with my excellent custom soundtrack of Aphex Twin, Nine Inch Nails club remixes and others of that ilk).
We then ate some bad ass burgers and watched the original Girl With The Dragon Tattoo movie.
I'm actually pretty angry at the people that made this movie because they don't do the weeks-long scenes of quiet and mostly fruitless research justice.
Then again, why the fuck would I want to watch that?
Reading it was like eating chalk.
But...I don't know...I guess I want those that took the easy way out (oh, I'll just wait for the movie) to feel some of the pain that I did.
I'll hopefully watch the next two movies with Chris this weekend.
Sadly, the actress that played the lead character, Lisbeth Salander, looked a bit like Marilyn Manson.
Which was awful.
After watching that and tucking Chris in, some stupid part of me demanded that I watch Revenge Of The Nerds.
I acquiesced with almost no resistance.
Some realizations/questions based on/raised by this movie:
- Why didn't these "nerds" go to some Ivy League school?
- "Gay" and "nerd" are, apparently, synonymous.
- As are "Japanese" and "pothead"**.
- Alan looks like Booger.
- That one nerd, Louis, ostensibly raped the snooty cheerleader, Betty, but, because he was good at sex, she was totally fine with it.
- John Goodman was always fat.
- 80's boobs are great.
- Blunts were (at least in Hollywood-made college movies) called "wonderjoints".
- The super-myopic redhead violinist (Poindexter, of course) who screamed when he got an erection was fucking hilarious.
- Calling a vagina a "hair pie" is really gross.
And those are all the life lessons I can recall at the moment.
Meanwhile, twenty seven of forty one chapters of Philip W.F. Tucker's The Grind Show have been recorded.
Seventeen have been edited and I have just received notes on the first thirteen.
Edits should mostly be quick and painless.
As long as audible.com doesn't fuck us, this thing is going to get a Q4 2011 release date.
Perhaps Holiday?
Still going strong except for the recent nightmare.
Planning on jumping into chapter twenty eight this evening.
Looks like Moses made it out okay after all...or did he????
No, he didn't.
One problem, I guess, is that they just let him in.
I mean, I understand that demons are all swooping around outside, but, haven't these guys ever seen a horror movie?
I mean, I understand that demons are all swooping around outside, but, haven't these guys ever seen a horror movie?
Hellllllo!
Skinwalker!
It's just like when Alan and I were watching Neverwhere and this chick who is TOTALLY A VAMPIRE comes up and starts acting all stereotypically vampirey around this guy and we're both saying that this kid has obviously never seen a vampire movie, read a vampire book or ever heard of a vampire ever.
It's ridiculous.
It's just like the old standard of "Okay guys, here we are at the entrance to the labyrinthine, subterranean lair of the Horrid Void Beast. My cell has no reception and these flashlights are already flickering. You got matches? Me nether, let's fucking do this."
Crunch.
Stab.
Die.
Credits.
Not nearly as bad as all that though.
In fact, one of the reasons I enjoy Phil's writing so much is that he's aware of these tropes and, what's more, understands that his readers are aware of these tropes and therefore makes his characters aware of these tropes as well.
So you don't have some guy blindly stumbling into the aforementioned lair of the Horrid Void Beast with nothing but lint and stony resolve as weapons.
Which is good.
Some sad news now...
Not only is my commute home extended twenty to thirty minutes for another ten fucking days (fuck you in your fucking eye, MTA), but the most cankerous of natterbags, who was absent allll last week from work, is back like herpes.
Just like herpes.
Herpes that caws and giggles and crows and never shuts the fuck up ever.
Remember those stupid ass key chains things you got as a kid?
They had like four or five colored buttons on them and each one made a different noise, like a person talking or a sound effect?
This person is like a bigger, louder version of one of those.
Here's what she says, at least fifty times an hour:
O...M...G... (in the most serious and scandalized of tones, so that everyone in the room knows that something, something shocking has happened to make her say this)
Yukading (appears to be an elision of "you are kidding", spoken rapidly in the same tone and in clusters of no less than five)
OOOOOOOOOH-KAAAAAAAAY (meant to express both disbelief and disinterest, the first syllable is typically higher than the second, with the end of the second rapidly declining in pitch, but not always)
mm-hm (an expression of understanding, uttered in groups of three or five, no more or less, in a period of less than a second)
yuhloyng/stoployng (another elision, "you are lying" and "stop lying", delivered in a tone that seems to suggest that she doesn't actually want whoever is "loyng" to stop)
That, people, sums up, not just what this woman sounds like...but who she is.
This woman can be summed up by a talking keychain.
And she has offspring.
Kind of makes me want to get sterilized.
Or drown the earth in screaming blood.
Whichever.
Finished the Hodgman book this evening.
It remained hit or miss right through the end and I don't think I'll be actively pursuing the latter two books he's written.
Unless I can trade my They-Might-Be-Giants-video-contest-prize pizza for an inscribed copy of his new one.
You know, for funsies.
Also, "funsies" or "funzies"?
Hm.
This day has been interminable long.
I'm thinking that's equal parts because of this wretched soul boil sitting mere feet from me and increasing the noise pollution by decimals and the fact that I feel a bit sick.
I hope I can nip this sick in the bud as I'm fourteen recording sessions from being done with Grind Show.
I've somehow managed to not get sick since this recording started in May.
Fucking May.
That is not only sickening and ridiculous, it's unprofessional.
And, if you know me, if you know me at all...you will know that I am a consummate professional.
With racist tendencies.
Good night.
* Which is exponentially more
"gangsta" that regular "gangsta". Ex. Po. Nen. Tial. Ly.
"gangsta" that regular "gangsta". Ex. Po. Nen. Tial. Ly.
** Synonymous with "nerd", not
each other.
each other.
8.18.2011
Gherkin Jerkin'
8.18.11
8:27 pm
I'm going to be up front about this: this is nothing in this post about either masturbation or pickles.
I swear to God.
And you.
Nothing.
Last night I watched a movie that you may not have heard of.
It's called Burke and Hare and is a comic retelling of the story of 19th century Irish grave robbers, William Burke and William Hare.
It's also happens to be an Anglophile wet dream.
It stars Simon Pegg, Andy Cirkus, Bill Bailey, Tom Wilkinson, Jessica Hynes, Christopher Lee, Ronnie Corbett and motherfucking Tim Curry.
Plus a whole slew of BBC heroes that those more British than I will instantly recognize.
It was hilarious and well done and just ducky.
Cheeky, even.
I don't think it was ever released here in theaters, but hopefully it'll pop up on DVD and you can Netflix it.
Or download it illegally from a torrent site.
Which would be wrong.
Tasty wrong.
SPEAKING OF TASTY WRONG.
I just had, apparently, the best steak burger in the world.
It was a Texas Steak Burger", meaning it was smothered in smoked bacon, cheddar cheese and the establishment's "Uncommon BBQ Sauce".
Quick aside: I don't really like when the adjective describing a sauce I'm about to ingest is "uncommon".
Anyway.
It certainly was a burger.
The bacon was there, the cheese, not as much and the BBQ sauce was...well, zingy.
Not uncommon.
Zingy.
I don't run the restaurant though, so I suppose the descriptor "uncommon" will have to stay...for now.
There were also waffle fries that tasted like waffle fries and a slice of Key Lime pie (hardly worth $4.99 unless it is Tardis Key Lime pie*...which would be great), but I'm saving that until I no longer smell BBQ sauce on my fingers.
What I'm reading?
Why, thank you for asking!
I've jumped back into Hodgman's Areas of My Expertise which has gotten more enjoyable.
Finally.
Once I've used it up, I just might give in and read the latest Dresden book.
I've also been reading Philip Tucker's The Grind Show...into a microphone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WHAT WWHHHAAAAAATTTTTTTT??????!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Last night I recorded the twenty-fifth chapter (of forty-one) and I'm going to focus on banging out one chapter a night until I am fucking DONE.
I am motivated by equal parts frustration at how long this project is taking and excitement to pass this onto the author and then the Unwashed (and Washed) Masses.
Chapter 25 was a good one, and, after a short respite in Chapter 26, the next few are Action Packed.
And I mean Demon Action.
Also watched the Adam West/Burt Ward Batman movie a few nights ago.
You know...I laughed almost the whole time.
I must have watched that movie ten times a month as a kid, but I never really got the fact that the whole thing is a huge joke.
It's hilarious.
I would actually love to see Grant Morrison do a remake of it.
As in, I'd like to see him remake the plot into something terrifying and mind bending, maybe keeping a bit of the ridiculous wink-wink humor, but mostly to see him make this silly slapfest into something dark.
Ugh.
My fingers still smell of BBQ sauce.
Which would be fine if I could suck it off, but IT'S JUST THE SMELL!
TEASE!!!!
UNIVERSAL MEAT TEASE!!!!!
Another reason I've got to finish recording Grind Show is that, starting in late September going into November, there is a whole sward of games coming out that I plan to consume, master and discard.
I've not had any games I've been itching to play at this time and I think that might also be helping bolster my motivation when it comes to recording.
Sometimes it's just easier to play video games, that's all.
Just like, for some people, it's easier to take the job with Virgin Galactic than NASA.
It's exactly the same thing.
And speaking of space, a recent thing I recorded mentions that crazy $30 million Google prize for the first private venture to land on the moon.
Call me ignant, but wouldn't it cost a fuckton more than $30 million to get ANYTHING to the moon...let alone a person?
In this script they also mentioned that there's more power in your iPhone than it the module that was sent to the moon in 69.
That's fucking nuts.
If that's true, why can't my fucking computer run faster?
I'm not sending it to the moon.
Fuckers.
All right.
I'm rambling.
Apologies.
I dug out the MC Honky album I Am The Messiah yesterday and reexperienced that.
There's a song or two on there that seems to be taking a shot at or emulating Beck's Midnite Vulture period.
Not bad, but nothing can be as greasy and glimmering as that.
Good.
Go.
* Bigger on the inside.
8:27 pm
I'm going to be up front about this: this is nothing in this post about either masturbation or pickles.
I swear to God.
And you.
Nothing.
Last night I watched a movie that you may not have heard of.
It's called Burke and Hare and is a comic retelling of the story of 19th century Irish grave robbers, William Burke and William Hare.
It's also happens to be an Anglophile wet dream.
It stars Simon Pegg, Andy Cirkus, Bill Bailey, Tom Wilkinson, Jessica Hynes, Christopher Lee, Ronnie Corbett and motherfucking Tim Curry.
Plus a whole slew of BBC heroes that those more British than I will instantly recognize.
It was hilarious and well done and just ducky.
Cheeky, even.
I don't think it was ever released here in theaters, but hopefully it'll pop up on DVD and you can Netflix it.
Or download it illegally from a torrent site.
Which would be wrong.
Tasty wrong.
SPEAKING OF TASTY WRONG.
I just had, apparently, the best steak burger in the world.
It was a Texas Steak Burger", meaning it was smothered in smoked bacon, cheddar cheese and the establishment's "Uncommon BBQ Sauce".
Quick aside: I don't really like when the adjective describing a sauce I'm about to ingest is "uncommon".
Anyway.
It certainly was a burger.
The bacon was there, the cheese, not as much and the BBQ sauce was...well, zingy.
Not uncommon.
Zingy.
I don't run the restaurant though, so I suppose the descriptor "uncommon" will have to stay...for now.
There were also waffle fries that tasted like waffle fries and a slice of Key Lime pie (hardly worth $4.99 unless it is Tardis Key Lime pie*...which would be great), but I'm saving that until I no longer smell BBQ sauce on my fingers.
What I'm reading?
Why, thank you for asking!
I've jumped back into Hodgman's Areas of My Expertise which has gotten more enjoyable.
Finally.
Once I've used it up, I just might give in and read the latest Dresden book.
I've also been reading Philip Tucker's The Grind Show...into a microphone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WHAT WWHHHAAAAAATTTTTTTT??????!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Last night I recorded the twenty-fifth chapter (of forty-one) and I'm going to focus on banging out one chapter a night until I am fucking DONE.
I am motivated by equal parts frustration at how long this project is taking and excitement to pass this onto the author and then the Unwashed (and Washed) Masses.
Chapter 25 was a good one, and, after a short respite in Chapter 26, the next few are Action Packed.
And I mean Demon Action.
Also watched the Adam West/Burt Ward Batman movie a few nights ago.
You know...I laughed almost the whole time.
I must have watched that movie ten times a month as a kid, but I never really got the fact that the whole thing is a huge joke.
It's hilarious.
I would actually love to see Grant Morrison do a remake of it.
As in, I'd like to see him remake the plot into something terrifying and mind bending, maybe keeping a bit of the ridiculous wink-wink humor, but mostly to see him make this silly slapfest into something dark.
Ugh.
My fingers still smell of BBQ sauce.
Which would be fine if I could suck it off, but IT'S JUST THE SMELL!
TEASE!!!!
UNIVERSAL MEAT TEASE!!!!!
Another reason I've got to finish recording Grind Show is that, starting in late September going into November, there is a whole sward of games coming out that I plan to consume, master and discard.
I've not had any games I've been itching to play at this time and I think that might also be helping bolster my motivation when it comes to recording.
Sometimes it's just easier to play video games, that's all.
Just like, for some people, it's easier to take the job with Virgin Galactic than NASA.
It's exactly the same thing.
And speaking of space, a recent thing I recorded mentions that crazy $30 million Google prize for the first private venture to land on the moon.
Call me ignant, but wouldn't it cost a fuckton more than $30 million to get ANYTHING to the moon...let alone a person?
In this script they also mentioned that there's more power in your iPhone than it the module that was sent to the moon in 69.
That's fucking nuts.
If that's true, why can't my fucking computer run faster?
I'm not sending it to the moon.
Fuckers.
All right.
I'm rambling.
Apologies.
I dug out the MC Honky album I Am The Messiah yesterday and reexperienced that.
There's a song or two on there that seems to be taking a shot at or emulating Beck's Midnite Vulture period.
Not bad, but nothing can be as greasy and glimmering as that.
Good.
Go.
* Bigger on the inside.
8.16.2011
Crunchy Bits
8.16.11
8:53 pm
Very tired today.
Bear with me.
There is a bear with me.
WHY I am tired pertains to a thing that Digitas and I have going on...
I have booked three out of three recent auditions, plus a re-record for an earlier project in the past week.
Two of these bookings in one day, both of them (along with this morning's re-record) all paid for by Digitas.
I don't know who is running this company, but obviously they think they owe me some money.
Or they realize that I'm a hot, young talent.
Probably both.
Which I'm fine with.
The two bookings on one day were pretty damn disparate: the first was a growly, kill-the-kids-because-they-won't-survive-what-is-about-to-come-to-pass-and-death-would-just-be-more-merciful voice over for Harley-Davidson cookware.
Or vacuums.
I can't quite recall.
I think I may have mentioned that audition here a while ago...
Whatever the case, I got it and recorded it in the same booth with a bunch of characters from Grand Theft Auto IV were recorded.
Which I thought was cool until I talked to my engineer who informed me that Rockstar (the makers of said game) were total shitheads.
Bummer.
From that booking, I went across the street pretty much to record a lot of text, while maintaining a level of enthusiasm that, if used in every day affairs, would result in repeated tazings, in a crazy short amount of time.
Like five lines in seven seconds.
This was for Optimum Online.
Which also makes cookware and batteries or something along those lines.
Before that, I played a talking dog in the style of Christopher Guest from Best In Show.
The first two are straight up television commercials, but this is a fun one: in late August or early September, on Zyrtec's web site, you will be able to play a sort of choose-your-own-adventure game involving talking dogs.
I am the bloodhound in episode two, which I believe is called Parks Unleashed.
It was fun as hell and the folks in the studio were also fun as hell.
When I came in, they were recording some sort of rap about lobster rolls.
And I continue to love my job.
The same can be said of the Optimum session: Chris, Chris, Brian (who'd won an Emmy!!!), Laura (who's voice didn't register on autotune...but that's neither here nor there), Bill, T.J. and...Melissa, I believe.
Between the actual recording session and waiting for the client to call, we all hung out and got to know one another a bit.
Very cool people, all of them.
And, thanks to one of them, T.J., I had my first Chick-a-cavo sandwich from Lenny's.
That man knows a good sandwich when he sees one.
Chicken breast, avocado, roasted red peppers, melted provolone and toasty beard.
As mentioned above: I continue to love my job.
Then, early this morning (the equivalent of 4 o'clock in the morning for you Daylighters), I was called in for yet another Comcast/Xfinity spot.
Specifically to remind folks that Boardwalk Empire is starting up again on September 29th.
Or 25th.
I'm not paid to remember, I'm paid to spit buttered leather.
AND, I found one a few days ago, that the Flumist "Pick Your Nose" campaign I was involved in was nominated for a Webby, which has something to do with Huey, Dewey and Louie's relation, that little duck chick.
Still haven't found the actual thing I was involved in...it's an app that has a bunch of different people saying "I want to pick my nose".
Could someone with a smartphone check this thing out?
Then...don't tell anyone...but I recorded a scratch track for a super secret thing that Ray is working on for Batman...or some other super secret organization.
I can't remember, but I already told you, I'm not in the remembering business.
I'm in the spitting buttered leather business.
So, in other words, I've had a pretty good run, despite my sweatiness...or...perhaps...because of it?
And during NONE of these recording sessions have I been dissuaded from buying an iPad.
In fact, pretty much everyone at these sessions that has one says it is fun as hell.
Consensus has pretty much been that it is more of a toy than an actual life-tool, but, fuck you, I like toys.
Also:
Since I obtained a Twitter account, I have been using up a lot of text messages (I have a lot of very interesting and exciting things to say) and I was reflecting that, although sometimes I find it odd that I'm writing a tiny message on a tiny keyboard when I'm holding a telephone, literally, in my hand, there are just so many things that would be weird if you called someone and said it rather than texted it.
I mean god forbid you got into a conversation with someone.
That would suck apes.
Curse this information age.
Maybe Marilyn Manson had it right when he totally coined the phrase "DISinformation age"!!
No.
No, he doesn't have anything right.
Poor guy.
Over the past two days I have watched Supergirl for the first time since I was 7 and, just this afternoon, Apocalypse Now.
Okay.
This is going to totally sound off the wall...but they were basically the same movie.
Basically.
Although Supergirl was a total piece of badly produced and edited shit, Faye Dunaway looked like she was having a ton of fun and some of the practical effects were actually pretty cool.
And Supergirl is a cutie.
So is Martin Sheen.
According to his son, Charlie, who is also an actor, he watches that movie once a week.
Charlie, not Martin.
And Apocalypse Now, not Supergirl.
That might give some insight to his whole...thing.
I went into Apocalypse Now knowing only that it was supposed to be nuts.
One thing stood way out and that was the creepy chaos at the last U.S. post on the river, that scene at night with all the fireworks.
Man was that effective.
Killgore was fun too.
The whole surfing thing was wonderfully surreal.
Overall though, I think I saw this way after the fact and could have done with less close ups of sweaty people's eyes.
I then found out about all the crazy shit that went on behind the scenes and decided I'm done with this one.
I would like to maybe watch some West Wing this evening, just to freak myself out.
Just a few moments ago I finished the Millennium trilogy.
Satisfying read, if, at times, a bit...oh, I don't know...focused on the minutia of Swedish finance.
I do get the point the author was making though, about how reading about the inner workings of the Swedish financial system is as painful as actually being ass raped.
Apparently, Stieg Larsson did not like economics as the whole trilogy was written to support that fact.
But I appreciate his dedication to the joke.
You know I do.
That would have been a great segue.
Since picking up those two Submarines albums after the Eels show, I've formulated an opinion of them.
Want to hear it?
While the lead singer's voice can be crazy saccharine at times (she sounds a lot like the lead singer of The Cardigans from time to time...fair warning) and the subject matter just so adorable and twee that listening to it is like burying your head in a bowl full of rambunctious puppies, there's a sincerity there that not only makes them tolerable, but endearing.
As for the music itself, if there were just a little less effort put into the production, this band wouldn't be worth mentioning, but the additional noises, instrumentation and layers add enough to make things interesting and to warrant repeat listening.
The songs tend to be sunny, wonderful (as in full of wonder) and joyous.
I'm referring to the two later albums, "Love Notes/Letter Bombs" and "Honeysuckle Weeks" (fae title, no?), and not their first album, "Declare A New State" which is a bit too underdeveloped for my bitchy tastes.
Standouts from the latter albums include: 1940 (a bit sexy, if you can handle it), Tigers, Swimming Pool (sweeter than an actual swimming pool full of cotton candy and Care Bears) and You, Me and The Bourgeoisie (in which they manage to make an attack on consumerism cute...it's insane).
I probably wouldn't go out and buy their albums...as I just did...but track them down on MyBook or FaceSpace and give them a listen.
You could have just lost two legs and an arm in a combine accident and they will manage to make you smile.
Try it.
I've also been listening to Mike and Tom Eat Snacks, a weekly podcast on which Michael Ian Black and Tom Cavanaugh (from Yogi Bear and Ed) pick, eat and rate snacks.
They deliver exactly what they promise and their friendship is evident and hilarious.
I have nothing else for you.
And that is a relief.
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