Scene:
A movie executive's office, sometime after "That Thing You Do" was filmed:
Agent: Ok, I have this great script. Steve Zahn is attached.
Movie Exec: Steve Zahn? Isn't the the guy who has killed every movie he's ever been in, including and not limited to "Saving Silverman," "Joy Ride," "Sahara," and "Strange Wilderness?" Isn't he a pox that insures box office failure?
Agent: Yeah, but it'll be different this time. I know it! 15 movies aren't enough proof!
Movie Exec: Ok done. Let's make "A Perfect Getaway." This will be the greatest movie ever!
And...scene.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
things that never should've happened, vol. 1
Scene:
Black Eyed Peas song-writing lair, circa 2007.
will.i.am (member of the differently.abled.punctuation. hall of fame) stands and gasps, "I've got it!" and saunters up to giant white dry erase board.
and writes:
"my humps. my humps. my lovely lady lumps. my my humps. my humps my humps my humps."
Drops pen to floor, turns around with arms spread and a giant smile.
Applause. Fergie stands and yells "Genius!"
And...scene.
Black Eyed Peas song-writing lair, circa 2007.
will.i.am (member of the differently.abled.punctuation. hall of fame) stands and gasps, "I've got it!" and saunters up to giant white dry erase board.
and writes:
"my humps. my humps. my lovely lady lumps. my my humps. my humps my humps my humps."
Drops pen to floor, turns around with arms spread and a giant smile.
Applause. Fergie stands and yells "Genius!"
And...scene.
Lots of things I like
Can't sleep, late at night but not super tired. Neighbors stay up talking late and can hear them through the too-thin windows that don't quite close. I've been using the Ambiance app on my iPhone to get through most nights but tonight didn't quite cut it. So, since it's late, I'm just going to list some things that consistently make me happy.
wilco.
any sportscenter anchor calling a home run ball.
the last 30 seconds of Conan O'Brien's monologue.
differently.abled.punctuation.
russell and the sports guy's twitter feeds.
any biography. you could give me the biography of someone who spent 68 years doing nothing but eating grapes and I'd find it fascinating.
any blogs by people i like.
riding my bike next to the ocean.
Minnesota- all of it, the winter, the humidity, the friends, the family, it all makes sense to me.
the song "I'm Not Sleeping" by the counting crows.
seeing live music, and especially the thought of the phish festival over halloween.
Madison, but mostly the "mad city" shirt I own.
new friend requests on facebook.
anything from topo ranch.
walking zoe in the morning, coffee in hand with JP.
raaaaaaaaaaandy.
crappy 80s rom coms on cable on the weekend.
manny ramirez. I know he cheated. but he's so likable.
san francisco weekend mornings.
crisis. of any kind. as long as it's not mine. this rhymes. so did that- wait it's over.
the. cubs. in. first. place.
and their inevitable collapse.
the water- ocean, lakes, rivers, whatever. it's cathartic for me.
and you. thanks.
wilco.
any sportscenter anchor calling a home run ball.
the last 30 seconds of Conan O'Brien's monologue.
differently.abled.punctuation.
russell and the sports guy's twitter feeds.
any biography. you could give me the biography of someone who spent 68 years doing nothing but eating grapes and I'd find it fascinating.
any blogs by people i like.
riding my bike next to the ocean.
Minnesota- all of it, the winter, the humidity, the friends, the family, it all makes sense to me.
the song "I'm Not Sleeping" by the counting crows.
seeing live music, and especially the thought of the phish festival over halloween.
Madison, but mostly the "mad city" shirt I own.
new friend requests on facebook.
anything from topo ranch.
walking zoe in the morning, coffee in hand with JP.
raaaaaaaaaaandy.
crappy 80s rom coms on cable on the weekend.
manny ramirez. I know he cheated. but he's so likable.
san francisco weekend mornings.
crisis. of any kind. as long as it's not mine. this rhymes. so did that- wait it's over.
the. cubs. in. first. place.
and their inevitable collapse.
the water- ocean, lakes, rivers, whatever. it's cathartic for me.
and you. thanks.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
So, this idea kinda went awry
Well, I tried to start a good idea. Instead, I just missed writing, and with the Addiction Tomorrow blog I write, I've been able to exorcise some of my creative writing demons. However, instead of undertaking a project, I'm just going to use this to write. I got inspired by my friend Russell's blog to simply use this as a way to get some thoughts out of my head. So, off we go.
Sitting across the table in an eerie silence the couple sipped their wine. She talked, he feigned listening. This had been happening for years now. After 15 years of marriage it becomes normal, he thinks, to ignore about 2/3 of what his wife says. But this time feels different. The air in the restaurant crackels with the stillness of the conversation. Spinning in circles, waiting for his time to speak, the husband puruses the restaurant with his eyes, partial hidden by the wire framed glasses that she picked out for him. The next victim...where? Can he find her tonight?
Although victim may be to strong a word, he thinks- dating outside a marriage isn't a crime. Hell, she started it, he thinks. Six years ago, he walked in on a scene he can't help but replay but battles to forget- this woman, rambling on and on about curtains or something, caught ass up on his kitchen floor. He beat the shit out of that guy. Doesn't know his name, but sure as hell will remember the face. And that started the spiral- the incessant fighting, the therapy, the date nights, the staying together for one more day, one more week, one more month...and eventually, he got sick of it. She had guilt- he had anger. She had kids- he had affairs.
And off and on they went, the conversation spinning in different directions. Not tonight, he thinks. Tonight I will be engaging and inspiring with my wife. It only sharpens my wit in the world.
Sitting across the table in an eerie silence the couple sipped their wine. She talked, he feigned listening. This had been happening for years now. After 15 years of marriage it becomes normal, he thinks, to ignore about 2/3 of what his wife says. But this time feels different. The air in the restaurant crackels with the stillness of the conversation. Spinning in circles, waiting for his time to speak, the husband puruses the restaurant with his eyes, partial hidden by the wire framed glasses that she picked out for him. The next victim...where? Can he find her tonight?
Although victim may be to strong a word, he thinks- dating outside a marriage isn't a crime. Hell, she started it, he thinks. Six years ago, he walked in on a scene he can't help but replay but battles to forget- this woman, rambling on and on about curtains or something, caught ass up on his kitchen floor. He beat the shit out of that guy. Doesn't know his name, but sure as hell will remember the face. And that started the spiral- the incessant fighting, the therapy, the date nights, the staying together for one more day, one more week, one more month...and eventually, he got sick of it. She had guilt- he had anger. She had kids- he had affairs.
And off and on they went, the conversation spinning in different directions. Not tonight, he thinks. Tonight I will be engaging and inspiring with my wife. It only sharpens my wit in the world.
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