Momentary Blog Interlude as Miss Sarah IMs me: Hi Saralicious! Chai on sista, Chai on!
~Interlude Fin~
Toonage at this Time: Ronin Hardiman - "Salve", very...loud.
So what's going on? Thinking. Well, Julio is still a tard and still binging and purging almost every meal session. We try to convey to him that, while she makes a lot of money and is quite famous, Kate Moss is not cool. Borch.
My dear old friend Kathy (also known by Kithy, Shieler or her new Islamic name F'hukka Mi Sahaarda) and I have been talking a great deal lately. It was all sparked by a conversation John and I had about outlets. No, not the kind you encourage children to stick forks in or cats to lick. I'm referring to creative outlets.
Momentary Interlude Deux: Rednecks ring my doorbell. They are off by one as they look for our next door peoples. They're nice so my black little heart forgives their insolence. Then one says "Prolly". My heart shrivels and they earn the full scope of my hatred.
Oh, the music changed: Fischerspooner - "Cloud"
So anyhow, Kithy and I started writing a story way back in the late 80's. I believe it was summer school of 1987 when that life-changing note was first handed to me. You have to understand first that Kithy and I write weird shit back and forth to each other. No rhyme, nor reason sometimes...just writing to pass the boredom of finishing lessons reeeal fast in the summer school classes and having a butt load of time to kill.
Until one day...
Kithy must have been in some sort of mood...that or she tripped over a mound of LSD and landed face down in a patch of shrooms while on the way to see her pusher for her seventh crackrock fix of the day. Regardless (Did you know that dictionary.com lists Irregardless as a damn word????!!! Next they'll stamp on okay on "Broughten." It's the end times I'm tellin' you.) the note I was handed was even more out there than our usual stuff. It had the customary drawings in random spots like all our notes but read like the intro to a story. Something about fantastic beings that came from unusual roots and their mission to...well, I won't give it all away. I realized a little later that the characters were based on our personas we'd made up for a fake rock band. Everyone had a damn band in high school so we thought we'd one up them and make our really outlandish.
I was intrigued by this small paragraph-length blurb that had nothing to do with nada and little noggin gears began a' turnin'. I took up where Kithy had left off and proceeded to move the plotline along. From band members with nutso stage names to a group of nigh-heroes set in a rather fantastic and raunchy (Fraunchtasty? Raunchtastic? Fantraunchic?), my paragraph became a page, then two, then three. It literally gushed out of me. Time's up, class is over. I meet Kithy out next to the vending machine for our break and a skor bar. The note changes hands and she's off with a warning.
Kithy loves it. So much in fact, that she churns out about 5 pages herself by the end of her class. I get the pages again and take them home. This is how our novel was born.
So, nearly 20 years later something snaps and I decide that this is what I want to do. I want to finish our book. I want it printed and I want it on a bookshelf for all to read with utter shock. A call to Kithy helps light the fire under her butt as well. Things happen for a reason we both repeat. I'm having a frustrating outlet direction issue and Kithy was shafted out of an eight year job by shady business practices. We both had this sudden brain borch about the novel in the same few days and..well any more psychic zip-doodles in this story and I'll be dangerously close to skirting GGism. Needless to say, the gears are turning again. I have the only remaining hard copy of our book. 400-500 pages or so. We are in the process of putting it all on the computer and starting with the rewrites. It feels good. I'm excited. Kithy is excited. We're both apprehensive about wading through rejection, but you have to start somewhere. I have the support, we'll get through.
I won't go into specifics on the book, the name, yadda yadda just yet. I’ll wait until it's all protected and whatnot. Suffice it to say we're ready to get going.
Mmm good song on: Keoki - "Jealousy" (Nynex's Antibiotic Mix)
Oh yeah, shout out to my friend Claire-Bear. Hey lady! Saw you on "Grey's Anatomy" the other night. Loved the "skin" line.
Speaking of watching shows, here's a couple reviews that I've been storing in my cheeks like nuts for the winter:
Sin City - Saw this opening day and thoroughly enjoyed it. Having read some of the comic what I knew I thought was well done. Great parts in this and even the actors that are rather dry and delivered in their lines fit right in with the flavor of the film. The lines work read like that. That's a plus. It's a great ride and I strongly urge anyone who has more than a 50 IQ or at least a touch of culture in their body and an appreciation for the creative to see it.
Major Pluses: The color choreography is sublime. I like what they did with the blood the most. Clive Owen. Elijah Wood. Mickey Rourke. Rosario Dawson. Dirty little Nick Stahl. Good story. Josh Hartnett had very little screen time.
Major Uh-uhs: Jessica Alba. Clive Owen needed more screen time. Josh Hartnett had too much screen time.
Phred Phun Phactor: 8
*****
Tale of Two Sisters - I've been waiting for this flick to come out forever and I nearly shrieked with joy when is aw it on the new shelf at BB. This is Korean horror (If you know me at all or read this blog you know the Asian horror thing is a subtle passion) and was VERY enjoyable. Admittedly there is a bit of formula here and there, but for the most part they skim past it quickly to get to the meat of good scenes and nicely scripted situations. I really enjoyed it. Check it out!
Phred Phun Phactor: 6.8
Phred's Office Decor Update!!
I now have Hoops and YoYo staring down at me from my desktop. I love them. Thank you for introducing me to them Mom. Thanks for the stuffed animal Jen and George!
The following is a sample of what we've been doing about getting the house fixed. This was the extent of our hard Post-Ivan work:
Greg: ...so if you get them to cut the top off of that tree I can have the rest down in 5 minutes.
Bart: But he has chew trees.
Greg: I know. The little one's dead. They can just pull that one down.
Phred: Did you say chew?
Carrie (in concert with Phred): Chew?
Bart: Chuuuu *he pronounces slowly*
Phred: Like to eat chew? Or to chew tobaccky? Or Chew like Chewy my sexy love wookie?
Carrie: He says tree too. Chew, tree, etc.
Bart: *sighs* Dun be a beech. One, chew. Chew.
Phred: Bart, say to.
Bart: To.
Phred: Now say "I have two testicles."
Bart: Shuttup. Ah'll drown you.
Phred: Busetta head portuguesian foreigner.
Bart: Ah'm intairrrr-nashunal, not foreigner.
Greg: I need to go release some applebees soon.
Carrie: God...
Phred: So Greg do you get rid of bushes and stuff?
Greg: You don't want to get rid of those azaleas.
Phred: Yes I do, they're ugly.
Greg: No they're not.
Phred: yes they are.
Greg: Don't argue, they're nice. You trim them up right they look good. Come on, you know when you go to the bank and you see all the nicely trimmed bushes there and you say "Hey, that's a nice bush"
Phred: No. I'm looking at my deposit slip and wondering when the bitch in front of me will put her child in the car seat and get her ass in motion.
Greg: Well after that..you do all that then look at the bushes and say "Hey! That's a nice bush!". You just have to trim them.
Phred: Wow, you're a 'mo. I hate the pink azaleas. They're nasty. The hag that lived here before had an unhealthy obsession with pink.
Myshe: And she was a bitch.
This, ladies and gentlemen, is how hurricane damaged houses get fixed.
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