wow

just dreamt up a weird mini reunion with some people i knew in college. literally a dream where i was back in 1994, hanging out with people from college times, talking about how we drifted apart but that we valued the time we spent together and that sort of thing. woke up to realize one of the people i was talking to, i got the face right, but the name completely wrong. it was the name of someone i know now. right face though. i wonder who that girl was. and then the one whose face and name i got right was a prick i kind of never liked. the other guys were dream extras. i didn't know them in the dream and they never were people i knew in real life.

 
i'm the asshole?

guy nearly crashed into me at the light, he coming from my left, me turning to my right. his right turn signal on. he didn't turn. i stopped in time to not get hit. wound up next to him at the light. "your turn signal's on," i told him. "yeah." he said "i want to turn here."


that very night, a car with no lights on is coming towards me. i flashed my brights. then he flashed his and that was it. left his lights off.

one night later, the guy who delivered my chinese food didn't have any change. he stared at the cash i had, and i had the right amount for the food, but not for a tip. he was all "just give me that. that's how much it costs!" angry.
and i said "but your tip..."
and he said "i'm not the delivery boy!" even angrier.

what the fuck everybody?

 
halp

what breed would you say this dog is?
also, who did the art on this cover, which is henry and ribsy by beverly cleary, if you can't read crazy moon languages.

 
dear the internet,

it's spelled "ridiculous." not rediculous. i know it's weird, but trust me.
also cease using "ur." i'm down with the most ridiculous leetspeak you want to throw out, but there's nothing leet about "ur." it is the road to ruin.

 
stuff that is happening

not stuff I'M doing. what i'm doing is beating a virus and a post-virus run-downedness coupled with a sore throat.

but stuff i (and others) set in motion has remained in motion. thanks newton!

blacko and i wrote a movie. in six days. then our friends took about three times as long to shoot it. who knows how long post-production will take? but it's a feature. it's shot. it's gonna be a movie. it nearly is one.

blacko and i brought our cast and musician to networks that do cartoons. networks like the disney channel, nickelodeon, and the cartoon network. we pitched our space western. our cast kicked ass. disney loved us. asked if they could ask the cast questions. the cast answered like muh fuckers. oh disney. we loved you back. nickelodeon was the worst. they got it instantly and we kept talking. couldn't get the phrase "don't sell past the close" to come to me. all of us answered all disney's questions at the nick meeting. but they weren't nick's questions. it just dragged out the misery. and then cartoon network loved us some more. guess who bid on it? right, nickelodeon. and now several months later, we have signed contracts. we have scheduled a launch meeting. it's potentially exciting. but if it doesn't become a tv show, it's just something that happened.

so now it's more waiting. waiting to get all the way healthy. waiting to see the movie, which is on imdb, which rules. waiting for that launch meeting.
waiting. waiting.

oh and pitching other stuff to other people.
try and get another movie made maybe. either low budget like the one or ginormous maybe. we write all kinds. what are you looking for?

 

 

 
my blog is your mix tape, baby

 
and this

 
the other new thing i like

 
the new thing i like

 
what else have i forgotten?

i just remembered the album mermaid ave. i used to love this album. it's been lost in transitions from one music-hoarding robot to the next.

as i download songs i once bought, i listen to them one by one and i love them again. welcome back to the forebrain, songs. who else is hiding way in the back?

 
vd

hope y'alls valentine's day was all romantic and shit. i had the flu.

 
fools

hey the movie fools gold,
do you really think "from the director of hitch" is something to admit, much less a selling point?
it's not.

 
superb tuesday

sigh. i got that "whoever i vote for seems to lose" feeling again.

 
that time

did i tell you about the new year's eve party? i think i didn't.
it was 11.59.
we were standing on the patio outside a three story house.
a panic gripped the place as people started to realize no tv's were on. no radio. nobody has a second hand on the eve of 2008. how were we gonna count down with no ball to watch drop? with no official count?
so i elbowed the dude next to me and said "30." when i said "29," he was with me. by "27" his gang and mine were on it. in short order, the patio fell in line. and then the house.
if you look at the moment of midnight to be a portent of the year to come, i'ma totally be the boss of 2008.

it might be based on a lie, but whatever.

 
punchlines, no setups

made me laugh to think of these:
it's new year's eve, not new year's steve.
are you a replican or a replican't?

 
and we're back

 
so

yeah. i've been away. at first there was career momentum that felt like it didn't belong on the blog. like i'd jinx it by writing it down. exciting stuff. then there was this strike and all that momentum just died. also not worth recording.

also, this show, the monthly show was a good receptacle for the writing. and the momentum stuff needed seeing-to. blogging about the writing i was doing when there was more writing needing doing wasn't my scene, grandpa.

now my blog's kinda become a spot where i put the stuff i wanna see. a lazy bookmark site for webcomics and such. youtube favorites list.

and then i had nowheres else to put that amusing military jargon i got straight out of iraq. so i dumped it here. and lukas thought it was funny that it was the first actual content in what turns out to be a while.

 
for reference

new-fashioned military slang:
butt to nut. as in "we're packed in here tight, we're butt to nut."
bohica. acronym for "bend over, here it comes again"
suck start a .45. as in "i'm gonna..." or "you ought to..."

 
note to self

*646# to find out my remaining minutes.

 
that y2k feeling

ducks in a row.
contracts done.
negotiations too. three months it took where we were in the dark. lawyers working. no updates.

now that it's finally time to move forward, the town is gearing up for a writers' strike.
The Man is buying up bbc and other cable shows and hunkering down.
the guild has voted 90% in favor of authorizing the strike.
we're ten days away.

fuck.

 
holy fucking fuck

 

 
new slang

eating=getting your chew on

 

try this