February 24, 2004
Wasted Days
It's become a habit of mine to author entries half-way and never finish them. I shouldn't let them go to waste... Here are some selections, they won't make much sense, but maybe you can put them to some sort of use. [Note: Any unauthorized use of these quotes will result in legal action] Play the 'guess what was in my bloodstream' game while you check em out.
These came from early early morning February 14, 2004.
They say that robot-soap isn’t as clean as natural soap. But I say, “Robots are beings far more sophisticated than us humans. I think they’d know what to use… If its good enough for a robot, don’t you think it’s good enough for you?”What you suffer from, sir, is “carrot of the mind” – which, although it has a [chuckling] hilarious name- is actually quite deadly.
These mind-carrots can only be removed by a sophisticated “brain-mining” technology used to shrink and eventually withdraw the carrot. Step one is to drain the carrot. This is done by stimulating the process of OSMOSIS. Basically we cut the guy’s head open and pour a bag of salt on it. Then, when we think its time, or Larry finishes his game, we wash off all the salt and pull the carrot out with our fingers. Then we use it to SEASON OUR SALAD.
But the one thing worse then a mind-carrot is the disease of ebola. I mean, seriously, have you heard of this shit? You puke out your guts or something. Your skin boils off.
There’s a wizard-well down near the old brown bag. They say wizards are born there. So mothers, hang on to your daughters, because if you get knocked up and you push out nothing but air, your bouncing baby is actually an extremely powerful wizard.
Please report him to the Wizard Commission- for your own safety. Basically we will put him in a cage until he loses his wizard power. Then we steal outta his wallet.
From an unpublished entry on January 18, 2004
If it has to be Fruit Flavored, it will probably make you ill.You can call me a sucker for ethnic establishments or just a cooperative drunk.
The evening commenced with the standard J. Denvir shuffle, some challenging ping pong and a bit of television. Saturday Night Live seemed uncharacteristically good, but it may have just been sensory oversaturation courtesy of those giant citrus drinks with impossibly foreign names and liquor far too expensive to be wasted on the inexperienced palette of the youth.
sifting back into their locales just to pop up again two months from now and upset the whole rhythm again, like the volatile stab of a guitar lick in a pulsating dub track.
It was a satisfyingly anachronistic foray into the unpredictable. I felt like it was 2 and a half weeks ago all over again.
From an unpublished entry authored on November 21, 2003.
I perscribe myself to the belief that people with a lot of free time and money to spend are the ones that usually wind up philosophizing or deconstructing the status quo, and, as a result, getting fatter. I've never seen a starving Liberian sit down to ponder the human condition. Alls they know is eatin' bugs. As such, I've got some free time on my hands, so I'll try to break some shit down.Anyway- there is an intense pride that is often built up in people after attending a public high school in DC. The fact of the matter is that this pride is often weened under false pretenses, like a cow raised by robots.
There are five elements that dominate my allusions and references in everyday conversation.
...there you have it. The key to what Wimberly would call "brilliance." Thats a tough word to throw around, by the way. Like 'rape,' it is a powerful word. I'm not brilliant. Andrew W.K. is brilliant.
- 1. Burritos
- 2. Slurpees
- 3. Independent Music
- 4. Violent Crime
- 5. Masturbatory Euphemisms
-faux hip-hop culture, fooling ourselves into thinking we are down with everybody at wilson. pride on being on the hairs clinging to the outside of the peach pit that is wilson's white community, after all, its better than that cyanide filled core, right? we are protrusions into the 'culture' that we base so much of our arrogance on.
if we learned anything from Star Fox 64, its that the last place you want to be is in the core. because when the shit blows up, theres a whole new level where you have to follow your supposedly dead father to escape the rapidly detonating core. this holds true for anything. cunts on the peripheral to the nazi party got off scot free, but those officers hanged like mice in a made-for-tv Animal Farm adaptation. Hows that for illustrative allusion?-no 70 dollar LRG sweaters
-bleak cynical worldview? (blame my dad)
So you wonder why those didn't get published? To tell the truth, it was because I again half-authored an entry tonight but didn't post it. I'm hoping I'll find a nice ending for this one. Something with a creative metaphor at the end, or a cool sound-word, like "skplaoit!!!" Fuck... I was saving that one.
February 12, 2004
How Junius Ruined Our Production Stills
February 09, 2004
Wilson Players Winter One Act Festival 2004
I'll start this off by noting that this is not over yet- The Wilson Players Winter One Acts continue next Thursday, Friday, and Saturday [Feb. 12, 13, 14] at 7:30 PM at Wilson [pool entrance]
Right about now we're in the eye of the storm. Three shows down, three to go, and they all went well so far. Everybody seems to like the robot fighting introduction, shovel command didn't go so well, but hey, we don't have Alex Baumel or a lot of shovels anymore. We made do with what we could. Two shovels does not a crime fighting squadron make. Saturday crowds don't want the high brow humor of shovel command I suppose. No... the dark, oil-lamp-lit bohemian lute-playing days of players have ended. Shovel command was a throwback to last year. Hopefully I'll get some sort of props for mentioning it here in the immortal realm of the internet, where time is forever suspended. Anyway, the crowd was full of hispanics, and they probably would have gone for the robot fighting. I'm no racist, but hispanics love it when small animals or objects fight each other. Wrong crowd, wrong night. We'll put shovel command back on next friday when we can get a third shovel.
So anyway, three more shows until the One-Acts melt away into that magnificent molasses-like ball of things I used to do and really enjoy. It’s a great time of year--- makes me feel important, makes me like Fugazi. Apparently all the Teen Idles were Wilson Players or something. This is to me what those oft-mentioned spectacular hardcore shows are to jrussell, except without the elitist social club ingrained into the audience. Plus, there are only 6 performances one-acts shows every year, unlike the seemingly endless barrage of majority rule shows that never fail to draw a crowd and a wistful livejournal entry three hours later. Ah, who am I kidding? I see the Pietasters every time they play in the city [next show: march 20, 930 club]
Anyway, for those of you who haven’t seen the show, it’s five one-act plays, a Vagina Monologue (the one where they bitch about their vaginas for some reason… oh wait) a Mr. Show sketch (“Lie Detector”), a sketch I wrote with G Baker (“Lemonade Stand”), and Junius, the last Cocaine in Motion film shot for the one acts. The crowds have been digging Junius, which is satisfying. I even got Saul Cohen to tell me it was good, but he was drunk and probably picking my pocket. They have been digging Lemonade Stand as well, which has some last-minute origins that have become very characteristic of the one-acts. There was no second sketch on Thursday, so me and G Baker went to Guapo’s after the show to write one [“Sketch” was listed in the program in the second half but we never got around to writing one for opening night, as I didn’t finish slopping together the one-acts cut of Junius until 2 and half hours before showtime. But I told you I’d do it and I did, sleepless nights be damned]. Anyway, we traded around some concepts ranging from the planned subtle mockery of the vagina monologue [we eventually decided not to bring it back into the show], to this bit I’ve been writing about “Skylark Leonard,” a TV newscaster [we eventually decided it would play better on film. But listen closely during Junius for a Skylark name-drop. I’d post the synopsis on here but I’d rather unveil it as a short movie online. Second semester has started and I’m about to be bored as hell every other day of the week. The premise is basically that Skylark Leonard is a douchebag closeted homosexual]. We settled on a lemonade stand, we had a few basic jokes but we lacked an ending. So on Friday I took the initiative and penned the sketch during what my schedule likes to call AP Spanish [ I prefer to call it “Coolin’ with A Loew and some Dominicans for an hour and a half”]. I found a suitable ending. I just threw in something about hunting lions… classic sketch-end. We rehearsed it a few times that afternoon and it went off without a hitch that night.
Anyway, Friday’s performance went well [we packed the house] and I’m pretty sure I had fun afterward. I woke up, and without any injuries at that, so all logic would suggest that I had fun. Plus the bottle was empty, so I was probably living it up with some good, well-mannered people. Either that, or somebody siphoned all the gasoline out of my Deer Park water bottle. Well whatever happened, somebody huffed some good gas that night. Oh shit, that’s right. Me and Jrussell ran into Angharad Ames of “A Night To Remember” fame and managed to convince her and her friend to come see the one-acts on Saturday, under the condition that Jrussell would give them some DCSFP ringers. At any rate, Jrussell didn’t bring the ringers, Angharad’s friend didn’t show up, so it was a trade off. But I’m pleased that we had some film festival representation there. I also shared one of the most intellectual conversations in recent memory with Klaus… funny that I should say memory. If only I knew what we were talking about. Ah whatever. I can remember a few things, and one of them is that I heard “Rudie Can’t Fail” while I was taking a shit. I haven’t taken such a triumphant shit in at least 4 days.
As I said before, Saturday started off slow, but the crowd warmed up to Junius and the Lemonade Stand sketch got constant laughs. You know, the good kind where there is either a heavy-set man or a baggy-skinned woman guffawing between long spells of full-crowd laughter, so it sounds like “Ahhahahahaha—EEHEEHEEHEEHEE—Oahhahahahh.” Didn’t think we could get laughs like that. Never underestimate the power of JRussell in apparatus designed for dogs.
After the show we bounced around for a bit, wound up at Scorpion’s. Again, I couldn’t write a novel about what happened but according to this I seemed to have a pretty good time.
So there you have it, some poorly-outlined summary, split up into two days of writing, for a 20-minute sit each time. I’m still feeling good from these performances, fortunately baseball is about to start and that will take my ego down a few pegs. It’s healthy. Well, anyway, to end this prolonged advertisement, I restate the thesis: If you come see the one-acts you’ll have fun… Thursday, Friday, and Saturday at 7:30 at Wilson. It'll be a gas-huffing good time. Here’s a picture of Scorpion laughing at Mason to tide you over until then.