Send it Up

Going through doing some hard drive cleaning and I found a video. This is where I was about 6 years ago. A party at my friend Stubby's house while his parents were away. I'm having trouble dealing with how alien it feels. I dont really see any of these kids anymore.

Anyways, I uploaded it to the intarwebs via a new PutFile account. Just a warning, it's total cheese, and I'm at my heaviest, 220. The quality sucks, and it's in Windows Media 9 format, so my appologies.

Here you go: Send it Up


Oh and, I also found this one of me and dennis about 3 years ago working a security gig his dad hooked us with. This is what we got paid 30 dollars an hour to do. What can I say, we're retards.

Here you go: Security Gig

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I like New York in June

I like a Gershwin tune. How about you?

This weekend we fly, or drive rather. Drive like the wind. And like a whale suddenly winked into existence 100 miles above the earth's crust -- we wont have a lot of time -- we'll need to live while we can.

I'm getting out of MD. Jon and I will spend a couple of days up in NY rippin' it up BSF style. A much needed escape from life, and really, there is nothing more beautiful than New York this time of year.

We have no plan, no schedule, no map, this is all last minute. I've spent the last two days calling just about every hotel in the city and nothing, everyone's booked up. Do I care? No. We'll figure something out. We'll find somewhere to sleep.

Printed on the back of the guide in nice big friendly letters it says "Don't Panic." Words to live by indeed.

I'll come back better for it, better for letting go, better for leaving.

This is the first in a long string of adventures. You can take that to the bank.

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Who wants .giffy?!?!

I plan on uploading a metric fuck-ton of images to the photo.bin tonight. Let's hope I follow through.

Yeah, so I had a great weekend. Total madness.

Here are some animated gifs to tide you over.

Air Guitar HERO represent!

EDIT:
Photo.bin updated with two new bins. Moved the gifs to a seperate page, they were giving me a headache.

Oh and: Jon's Pictures.

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The Secret Room

Almost two years ago I wrote a short story called Nutshell which later evolved into The Secret Room. Me and a couple of friends -- Dennis and Jeff -- made it into a short film. We entered it into Project Greenlight but only made it to the top 50.

For whatever reason kbryna here on blogger has taken a fancy for my artwork. I don't know, she must be crazy. ;) She's a total stranger in every sense of the expression. I've never met her and can hardly say I know anything about her at all. Anyways, she expressed an interest in any more work I had on offer and I obliged. I thought I'd share this film we made.

She liked it so much she was speechless, which I can tell you -- if you read her blog -- is no small feat.

Honestly, I hadn't really thought about it in a long time. I forgot what this film even meant to me.

..........:::::::::DISCLAIMER:::::::::..........

If you click the link below please be mindful that I have limited bandwidth. Please don't load it up 50 times or send it to all your friends or you will surely send the film and most of this blog to a dark, lonely corner of the internet -- lost for a month -- forcing me to pay more in hosting fees than I already am.

..........:::END OF DISCLAIMER:::..........

You can watch it here: The Secret Room



That's not the final product either. I had a friend do some serious sound work on it and what came out was something not short of amazing. To me anyways.

I never released it. I wasn't allowed to enter it into any other festivals either. I ran into a problem with the girl playing the deal girl. She refused to sign an actors release form but that's a whole story unto itself. We won't go there.

So here it sits, in limbo. We have plans to someday remake it using someone else as the girl. In fact my friend Jon has taken it upon himself to do a rewrite. Adding in some other plot twists and characters. All in all, beefing it up and making it longer. I've read the preliminary script he has and what's in there I like, but it's changed. It's different now. My original vision is still there but it's buried.

Recently I've honestly kinda forgot about The Secret Room. About why I wrote it in the first place. At the heart it's about loneliness, that much is obvious. But it's more than just that. I didn't tell many people about the real reason I wrote it. About what it really means to me. I'm gonna get all art-fag on you now.

I wrote it as a metaphor for a dead-end relationship. A one-sided relationship. About one person contributing everything and the other person contributing nothing. About suddenly coming to terms with giving your everything to someone who is incapable of doing the same. It's about the opposite of sharing. The Secret Room.

It's about the things a relationship loses, or maybe never even had. It's about death, and having to die yourself if you want to stay in that relationship.

There is some innate pain about keeping a secret. About not being able to say something you really want to say. About a secret love only you feel. About hiding. It's funny in a not so funny way and in the end you'll do anything to keep that pain because you mistake it for what you think you want or need. Again, dying in the process.

Maybe all that doesn't come through in the film. Maybe I didn't want it to. But now, it seems more than ever, I need to remember these things.

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My Metal Emotions

Scott just sent me this very serious article about metal sign abuse. God I love The Onion.

Here's a taste:

"The metal sign, or 'sign of the goat,' has all but lost its impact as a token of respectful recognition for something truly 'rocking' or 'metal,'" SMC president Terence "Geezer" Butler said. According to Butler, members are upset that their sacred gesture is being used to acknowledge and celebrate "favorable but clearly non-metal events."

Full article here:
Metal Council Convenes To Discuss 'Metal Hand Sign' Abuse

Sadly I am a chronic offender of said frowned upon pratices. Notice my flagrant show of disrespect for the sign in even my profile picture. I have brought much shame on the metal community. My metal emoticons are so not metal...

\m/ 0_o \m/

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The Wind-Up Bird

These days it seems I can't escape my subconscious. Every night I go to sleep and have dreams of her and I getting back together. And every morning I awake only to be left in her absence, her imaginary impression in the left side of the bed. Her smile still burned in my eyes, her voice still ringing in my ears, her words in my heart. People talk about lucid dreaming, about being able to control things but it's something I've never been able to do.

I finished a book last night. A book that was hard to pick up after she left. A book that was both the best book I've ever read and the most difficult. This book, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, it was mirroring my life. It just got too bizarre and when she left, so did my desire to finish it.

Yesterday I picked it up again.

There's a quote in there toward the end that left me eviscerated. It tore me open when I read it. There was no precision as if it had taken care and cut me open with a scalpel. No, this had all the care and comfort of a shotgun blast aimed at my chest.

"People were no more than dolls set on tabletops, the springs in their backs wound up tight, dolls set to move in ways they could not choose, moving in directions they could not choose. Nearly all within range of the wind-up bird's cry were ruined, lost. Most of them died, plunging over the edge of the table."

If you think of the bird as fate, you get the metaphor. These people were made for ruin.

I talked to a friend last night. She told me that one of her friends has this dad and every weekend she goes over for dinner. Well, her dad has taken to making salads before the main course. In regards to lettuce he always asks her, "iceburg or Dole?" The thing is, they're both the same. There is no choice. So what he's saying is, you better just accept it, cause it's coming anyways.

These days I have to give myself over to the flow. There's an ocean of people out there who all share my fate. There's no lucid dreaming, no fighting it, no changing it. Not for me.

Amelie has stopped running to the door everytime she hears the honk of a car alarm being armed. Maybe it's time I should too.

I just have to let go and hope I don't fall off the edge.

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Friday outings

I had fun Friday. I like getting out early and starting the night as soon as possible. Cheap drinks at happy hour are a definite plus.

Here comes another list.

Things that made Friday a good night in no rational order:

01.) Kevin trying to do a southern accent but falling into a mix between Sean Connery and Christopher Walken.
02.) Southern Accent Hero!
03.) "just givin' em out!"
04.) The Mount Nacho pyramid at Duclaw.
05.) Unexpected marching bands.
06.) Kevin buying me another donut that turned out to be no less than a week old.
07.) The picture I took of Michele where she's trying to flip me off.
08.) Guitar Hero till 3am.
09.) Jen and I laughing on the couch about Michele's God given gift for Guitar Hero.
10.) Caricatures!



11.) The look on Michele's face while the guy drew mine.
12.) Michele giving me the idea for mine. (I'm dumb and can't think of the obvious.)
13.) Jon taking pictures of Jon and I.
14.) Walking into Jen and Kevin's house with Kevin at 4:00pm and finding Jon already there playing Guitar Hero on Kevin's Ps2 that he had dragged from Kevin's room and hooked up downstairs.
15.) Being told about www.ninjai.com
16.) The fact that the guy drawing caricatures could spell "caricature" but needed help spelling "guitar."
17.) "Bits"
18.) Handlebar mustaches.
19.) A stranger's remark about eating pies.
20.) Unintentional creepiness.
21.) Jen eating her words and playing Guitar Hero for the first time and actually liking it.

Anyways, if you don't believe me that all this wonderfulness took place in the span of one evening, well, Jen took pictures. See for yourself!

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My Follow Suit

I'm following Jon's lead and making a mixed CD. I used to do this a lot durring the days of napster but I find that I don't do it much anymore. I was always making soundtracks for my life. Here's mine now:

Moved Out

01. Longwave - There's A Fire
02. Mike Doughty - I Hear The Bells
03. Alkaline Trio - Warbrain
04. Relient K - Be My Escape
05. Devin Davis - Iron Woman
06. Coparck - Surfing on the Rainbow
07. The Bens - Bruised
08. The Weakerthans - Aside
09. The Wedding Present - Always The Quiet One
10. Sage Francis - Message Sent
11. Madeleine Peyroux - Don't Wait Too Long
12. The Honorary Title - Bridge and Tunnel
13. Death Cab For Cutie - World Shut Your Mouth
14. They Might Be Giants - Experimental Film
15. The Rosebuds - Boxcar
16. Pinback - Seville
17. Giant Sand - Bottom Line Man
18. Eels - Living Life

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We need a heRO!!

The top twenty reasons why this past weekend was the fusking shit in no particular order:

01.) Playing Guitar Hero for the first time at Scott's.
02.) Free drinks in Fed Hill via Nick Mutha-Fuckin' Kelly.
03.) Kevin and I playing Guitar Hero while Jen laughed at us.
04.) Four guys in a car screaming Alkaline Trio lyrics driving through Baltimore.
05.) Scott's gaming party.
06.) Jon turning around in his car seat to sing Cake's rendition of "Strangers In The Night" to us in the back.
07.) Chinese Food at Jen's.
08.) When Kevin bought me a Krispy Kreme donut at the gas station.
09.) Some cute girl at the bar who every time I looked at her she was looking at me.
10.) Jon and I out at bars playing Guitar Hero in our heads to every song we heard.
11.) Corinne doing the 'Corinne Dance' while she played Guitar Hero.
12.) Good takeout pizza in Fredneck.
13.) The word: Fusking.
14.) Going undefeated at Soul Calibur 3.
15.) Pissing off Jon cause I was undefeated at Soul Calibur 3.
16.) Dennis and I eating fifty-cent hotdogs at Ikea and buying bomb-ass chairs.
17.) "YOU GOT ANOTHER THING COMIN'!"
18.) Getting home at two-ish in the morning on Saturday night, jumping up on my bed and playing Guitar Hero loud enough to wake the neighbors, and Dennis.
19.) Planting the travel seed in the minds of friends at Brewer's Art.
20.) Peeing outside.


See a pattern there?
Yeah, this game is ruling me right now:




And here's proof:




Yeah, that's me, on my bed, with a toy guitar, rocking out, playing a friggin' video game! And I wonder why I'm single... Well, at least I'm not in my underwear with a tie around my head.

But really, I don't need no INSTRUCTIONS to know how to ROCK! That shit is FUN, I dare anyone to play it and say it aint.

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StarScream and Hutch

I used to write rap songs, well, Dennis and I. Our rap names were StarScream and Hutch, I'm Hutch, he's StarScream. We even had aliases for our aliases.

Hutch: Big Bully Bullocks, Squint Eastwood, Sparkamus Prime

StarScream: Scooty Puff Jr.

With song titles like :
01. Two Scoops A-Blazin'
02. Gi Joe’s one known foe, your mama’s toe.
03. Teddy Ruxpin’s got crazy rhyme bustin.
04. They call me Mr. Sarcastic...Shaggy Fan-Tas-Tic!
05. Bearded Mother of the Smothers Brothers
06. On golden Showers with Super powers.
07. I said "that chick's lazy", not "Patrick Swayze..."
08. Magic missiles and girly cat-whistles.
09. Santa Claus and Boss Hog's balls.
10. Lock, stock and two smoked out crazies, pushin' up daises.
11. Toe-tappin', fool-slappin' mischief.
12. Beatles songs about all-wool thongs

They made me laugh. They still do. They were so bad, but so good at the same time. Here's a highlight from one I wrote. I might post more if I feel like it, they tend to get a little graphic though.

Magic missiles and girly cat-whistles.

StarScream, StarScream, tsk tsk tsk / Why these kids think they can mess with this? / cleanin' up their style like our name was wisk / goin' on for miles like our christmas lists / We're the evil corporation for two-thousand-four / forget Enron we're harder core / the axis of evil is knockin' down your door / and sellin' your grandmother into slave labor / don't even think about savin’ her / we kept your lightsaber / I'm like the evil yoda except taller / and cuter / stealin' your shit like a rioting looter / using my force to run off on your scooter / cloggin’ up your brains like roto-router / cause I’m puttin’ on my cloak and wizard hat / servin’ up fools with my wiffleball bat / and killin’ off all your level nine mages / you think you can stop us? / we been here for ages / murderin’ dudes just like you / I’m level ninety / StarScream’s ninety-two / don’t test me kid I’ll summon magic-missile / makin’ all the ladies howl and whistle / burnin’ up your crew like a pile of thistle / cause we’re runnin’ things like Spacely Sprockets / lettin’ loose with our magic rhyme rockets / This is the norm for two-thousand plus four / runnin’ up in you like a high-priced whore / sellin’ out in the record store / makin’ all the kiddies foam for more / StarScream and Hutch are on the scene / out for hire like Hannibal’s A-Team / and B.A. Baracus / and that fool named Face / even that crazy ass Murdock couldn’t rock this place / not like us and that’s a fact / so step to this if you wanna get jacked / but otherwise you best keep your distance / we’re runnin’ full force like the Jedi resistance.

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In Stitches

Somewhere around the vicinity of about three-hundred or so, whatever that means. IN MY FUCKING HEAD MAN!! And for what? Well, for a good cause actually, for me. For the only one I'm always gonna have to live with. Really, this is about survival, and betterment. This is something that had to be done. So I did it.

Let the healing begin right?

Right?

It's been said that if you sit in one place long enough you'll see everyone you've ever met in your entire life. Up until recently I thought that was a pretty cool insight, until I really thought about how sad it was. If you stay in one place long enough -- maybe your entire life -- of course you'll see everyone you've ever met, you've never moved from your spot. Never grown. People come and go, some come back, some don't, but if you never move... blah, blah, blah.

What measures a person? Experiences? Life?

I've never left this country I was born in. I talk to people everyday who's lives are so incredibly small, but compared to what? Mine? I am surely not the stick to measure by. Not in the slightest. Something in the coming year and years I will rectify. Words have been marked.

I'll go it alone if I have to but I'm leaving, maybe on a jet-plane, maybe not. The only thing for certain is that I'm going and when I come back, the person who left wont be with me.

I understand now that sometimes -- even when things are perfect, or seem so -- those are the things you have to walk away from the fastest.

May I never be content.

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