These are the things I think about

30 09 2009

I’m sitting here by myself debating which is the better version of Ave Maria. I’ve got it narrowed down to 2 contenders, neither of whom are Maria Callas. Apologies to my gay readers.

The first is the modern rendition by Christina England Hale, the one used for the Hitman movie.

The second is this rendition, in German, by Barbara Bonney.

I can’t decide and damn it it is bugging me something awful. These are the things I think about when I’m alone.


Steak and Eggs

28 09 2009

If there is any better meal 0n this planet better than steak and eggs, I have yet to taste it. Some men eat ham steaks with their overeasies; some even mix it up with a little sirloin. I don’t mean some IHOP why-yes-it-IS-beef-sir sirloins. I mean the real damn thing where you can feel free to sop up all that delicious yolk without being afraid of the E. Coli trots ruining your slacks later on. That’s a man’s meal. A man eats a meal like that with any regularity and he is ready to lay bricks with his peter.

Being fresh out of steak I opted for just fried eggs, which helped to cut some of the gloom off of this fine September day. September is my least favorite month, so it’s no wonder I get the Funk around this time of year. There aren’t enough fried eggs in the world to fully revive me though, so I’m going to sign off here and go take a damn nap.

3 PM

27 09 2009

Okay you jerks this is the day. I don’t know the first thing about casting people other than what I’ve seen on the internet, and that mostly involves tricking Russian girls into blowing you on camera. ┬áThere are several reasons why I believe that is not the case for today.

There are really only two roles of importance, and one has been filled by some dude I don’t know. His role is that of the basic American wiener. There is a twist at the end that I don’t much care for, but mostly he’s just a dude who has trouble getting by in life and at one point he falls on a beer bottle with his face.

So in about thirty minutes I’m going to go help decide which bitchy brunette girl fits the other role the best. Sitting in the audience all judging some girl when I can’t even remember most of the dialogue, saying things like “her innate caring nature is too obvious for her to play this role convincingly” and keeping a straight face. Maybe I should go find some Adderall so I can muster some interest. Can’t even sit up straight. Damn man but this is very lame.

Man is it ever time to stop fucking around

27 09 2009

Many of you may have noticed this blog has been more or less abandoned in recent months. This is incorrect. I have almost a hundred unposted drafts on this blog that only I can see, and that most anyone couldn’t make any damn sense out of, including myself. One of them just says NET NEUTRALITY FUCKED YOUR AUNT SELMA like fifty times. It doesn’t even have a title other than a bunch of swears hacked up and stuck together end to end to make some sort of unholy portmanteaux that may very well be illegal here in Texas.

There is no viable excuse for me not updating this mother, other than I’ve been in a full-on Bad Funk for going on three straight months. Can’t write, can’t draw, been picking at the guitar like I’ve never seen one and am angry at its appearance. Smoking bad hash like I’m training for a decathlon wherein one of the events is who can cough up the weirdest looking thing.

The girlfriend doesn’t get the whole depression gig, which is probably the best possible way to be. I explained it in my usual scientific way like “it’s when you can’t make yourself do anything and everything sucks”. She seemed satisfied by that answer.

Somehow I managed to write a short screenplay which is being made into a real film to be shown at SXSW, which is like the Warped tour except for people who pay for their own iPhone data plan. 3pm tomorrow I have to go sit in an empty auditorium and watch people try to say lines that I wrote without fucking up too much.

Actually, I didn’t even really write the script. My buddy The Captain showed it to me over the summer while we were watching Watchmen and asked if there was anything I could do to help it. There wasn’t. I ended up rewriting what some college-educated ponce had written down like he had a bet going with a friend about who could make the lamest gay jokes. If he lost that bet, man I don’t ever want to see the winner.

So now I have to go add my .5 cents on the female lead in the picture. All I know is she has to be brunette and a total is-she-gonna-blow-me-or-stab-me-type bitch. If you know anybody like that and can describe that sentence to her without being stabbed, send her our way. Texas State Theatre Auditorium at 3pm. I’ll be the sad dude who smells like bad hash.