never as tired as when i'm waking up
first there was the blogging 'expert' on msnbc to report how the internerd is reacting to the big stories, and now may i introduce to you, my father's blog. hopefully, my father won't tell too many embarrasing tales about yours truly.
eon mcaki(probs nsfw) sorta lied to me. art school isn't that sexy and that's the only snap i'll make about fullerton, right about now, hold tight. can i could get a promo copy of eon mckai's next film when it comes out? cause your humble narrator absolutely loved his first film to pieces.
according to an article on ambitious outsider, la times rock critic, robert hilburn calls this year's coachella line up, it's best yet cause his boyfriend, conor obsert is playing on the main stage along with coldplay and nine inch nails. nah, dude, check the technique, last year was better cause the most influential band of the 90s, radiohead played (sorry, nirvana, but to me, you're just an overplayed band with a couple of decent songs and a great acoustic album). i'd rather see bloc party at the glasshouse instead of spending a thousand bucks to see them in eight hundred degree heat.
anybody else catch the kills on subterranean on sunday night and their video, "the good ones"? i think it's pretty funny that in their interview, they talk about how they don't like playing in the sun and at large scale festivals, yet here they are at coachella. they'll probably melt away or something, which would be a total bummer.
to all of you who plan on using my cual de sac as your secret lover's nest, make out spot, whatever sleazy thing you do there, please stop. or at least wait until late at night when my street is at sleep. don't be making out on a lovely sunday afternoon when kids are outside playing and shit. also, learn how to properly park your car; just don't leave it there with the flashers on, forcing me to do a reverse/backing up party while i'm getting my lil' scrappy on, it aint happenin' babe. for as much as i would love to see joey greco or his spanish language eqilvent, the host of "secretos" (it's on the same channel as 'buscando amor,' if you're local) busting a couple on my street, i just don't need that right now, okay. can't the cual de sac go back to the old days of the ocassional cops dusting a drug deal? gross people getting it on in hyundais have got to go.
speaking of things that got to go home, the "mrs. braff" t-shirt. have you seen this? first, we had to deal with all thos 12 year old girls and kimberely stewart claiming that they were "mrs. kutcher," or "mrs. timberlake," now we gotta deal with this? garden state was a good movie and i aint ever watched an episode of "scurbs," so i can't say shit, but to make this dude an indie-bopper pin up is just insane. what's next to be sold at hot topic? mrs. dynamite? mrs. flowers? mrs. ferdinand? durs-durs-durs-durs-durst.
the thing about working on a friend's movie, it's a lot like helping somebody move, but you're moving very important, super expensive items across a mine field. and it's not like you're called up a couple of days before the move, asking if you can help, or at least in my case, i offered my services up early and my name made it's way on the call sheet and i showed up on time. when you're working, it's the single most important thing going on in the world; everything stops because this film could be the big break for your friend cause it could get accepted at sundance and somebody gets a look by a somebody big and hopefully, it'll lead to sexy, hollywood hills underpants parties with coked out wb starlets and the gilmore girl's lauren graham.
there are many cool things about working a student film. basically, it's a cheap film school. you're learning all of the technical terms without having to sit some lecture on the safety proceedures and what good the equipment provides. personally, i couldn't tell you the difference between a 1k and a 2k, i just know that a 2k is heavier than a motherfucker. not to mention, everybody working loves movies, so there's no loss for conversation. you can get into a heated discussion about old boy without ruining it for anybody who may be listening and be able to use terms like "crumbling in the second act," without feeling like a total bagel (carb heavy foods are the new diss terms, y'all).
and there are cute girls who dress like alison from the kills that engage in interesting convos about bowie, joanna newsom and people in common that may or may not look like somebody from "family guy". sure, to keep things going, you may tell her that you don't like rap music, too and you're praying in the back of your mind that nobody calls, so she won't hear your "knuck if you buck" ringtone. but you're more upset because there was a moment where you could've asked to her to go to a blood brothers show and your buddies at the end of the day were asking if you got the number and you blew it.
also, there are times when you're sorta in awe of surroundings. the street set curb you're sitting on is the same spot where jerry seinfeld stole that marble rye from that old lady on an episode of "seinfeld".
there are moments of insanely busy, crazy work. you gotta help move in all of the equipment onto set, then you gotta buy batteries and go to starbucks and all of these of orders are given to you within your first ten minutes on set. and you know how irony likes to be all clever and shit, so as i stood in line at radio shack trying to buy a headphone jack, it attacked me. in front of me, had to have been the world's slowest woman. she was buying a tape recorder and it took like twenty minutes for her to even comprehend the concept of a tape recorder and this was after she had picked one out and was at the register, paying. then after the woman finally partially understood what she was about to buy, the radio shack gy started to talk her into buying like 5 10-packs of batteries. she doesn't need that many batteries; nobody needs that many batteries unless they have a robot. being as stupid as this woman was, she had to have the radio shack guy put the batteries in for her.
i don't know if steam came out of my ears at that moment, but probably it did. i started to pace and tap my feet, but then out of nowhere, the radio shack muzik starts to play the concretes' "you can't hurry love". i tried, real hard to take it as a sign. you know, relax, take it easy. it'll get there when it gets there, but those sweedish people don't seem to understand that this stupid woman is holding up filming the first scene of the day because she can not put fucking batteries into a tape recorder.
so, this woman had some nerve; she turned around and said to me, "i better hurry up. sorry for taking so long." yet she continued to chit cate for five more minutes. five more minutes of being told you have to press down both play & record to record something on a tape. some nerve.
tv/tivo tip for tuesday night: my super sweet 16 while last week's episode was sorta disapointing, but this week's she richie rich takes the cake.