It's 10 o'clock on Thursday night and I've got a bitch of a headache. I've got no clue what sketch to write for tomorrow and realize I set the bar ridiculously high after last week. And, I'm in a shite mood.
So in case I fail miserably at my appointed task, here's Mike Gravel doing the funniest thing I've seen this week.
There's video above, FeedReader.
There's video above, FeedReader.
Friend of the blog SteveG recently performed at his first open mike night. As it was in Baltimore, I couldn't go. The Wire makes that place look scary, John Waters makes it look seedy, and you know...it's 2K miles away. However, there's video.
From earlier descriptions of the evening, here and here, not all the performers had such good stage presence and solid routines. Enjoy this one, though.
Here, French filmmaker Freres-Hueon tackles the light cycle sequence in Tron, the '82 sci-fi cult classic that follows the adventures of a computer programmer who gets digitized by a laser.via Wired
Walter L. Wagner and his trusty squire, Luis Sancho, are tilting at hadron mills. Bringing suit in federal court in Hawaii, the knight errant and his sidekick are looking to stop CERN from destroying the world!!!
Wagner, whose law degree from an unaccredited school doesn't allow him to practice outside of California, and Sancho, "who describes himself as an author and researcher on time theory1," want to save us from those out of control Swiss scientists!2
The lawsuit, filed March 21 in Federal District Court, in Honolulu, seeks a temporary restraining order prohibiting CERN from proceeding with the accelerator until it has produced a safety report and an environmental assessment. It names the federal Department of Energy, the Fermi National Accelerator Laboratory, the National Science Foundation and CERN as defendants.CERN probably won't bother showing up. You know, 'cause they're not American.
I'd been holding off on reporting the results of this week's battle in hopes that Michael would make it out of the M*A*S*H unit, where he was playing grab ass with Hot Lips Houlihan, in time to post. He's been under the weather this week, and in Chicago, there's been a LOT of weather this week under which to be.
But then I remembered that even if he did make it out, he was meeting up with the brothers from the Water Buffalo Lodge for a Bowl-A-Thon. So hold back, I shall no more!
Wow. Someone (not the two people I was actually targeting, but someone) felt called out this week and decided to send in a sketch. It's her first shot at sketch comedy, but I thought it was pretty decent. She's homepageless at the moment, so I'm going to paste it below. Everyone, please give a warm welcome to our newest battler, Red. (I'm not going to include her email address as she suggested, because I fear she'd send money to all the deposed Nigerian princes who would contact her.)
The Meeting
(Two women and a man sit at a conference table wearing business casual attire. Ms Willson rushes in and stands at the head of the table, where we can only see her back. The other three get odd expressions on their faces, and glance between each other and Ms Willson. Smiles slowly creep across their faces.)
MS WILLSON
Is something funny? We have serious business to attend to, and since I am behind schedule we really don't have time to have this conversation. (Brianne raises her hand.) Yes, Brianne, do you have something to say, and is it pertinent to the meeting?
BRIANNE
Well, I just wanted to tell you that--
MS WILLSON
--If it's not about the meeting, I don't want to hear it.
(Ms Willson ad-libs on sales figures and clients for a few moments. The others continue to smile.)
MS WILLSON
The fact that our sales numbers are down, is that something you find amusing, Charlie?
CHARLIE
(Stammers) No, no, that's not funny at all. It's just that...
MS WILLSON
Just that what? Really, is this a case of Friday afternoon happy hour anticipation or are you all just on something?
(They stare at the floor, holding back snickers.)
MARIE
Well, Ms Willson, what we've been trying to tell you, is that it's hard to focus on sales numbers when your dress is tucked into your pantyhose and we can see your underwear. Is today Monday or Friday because I can't tell from what you are wearing?
(Ms Willson turns away from the table to face us and looks down. Her dress is tucked into her pantyhose in front and the front or her underwear is visible. We can clearly read the word "Monday" printed all over them.)
MS WILLSON
Ah, well. Thanks Marie, and all, sorry I didn't let you speak sooner. (She heads to the door.) I'll be right back...
(The three co-workers burst into laughter.)
BLACKOUT
Same spiel as every week. If anyone feels up to putting her sketch talents to the test, please email a link, or the body of your sketch if you have no place to post it, to sketchwar_at_dreamloom_dot_com. The results of the battle will be posted sometime Friday evening.
An Awkward Birthday
(Rob and Jean sit at a kitchen table with shreds of wrapping paper lying visible on the floor. He: mid 20s, wearing a plaid flannel shirt, jeans, and glasses. She: early 20s, hair in a ponytail, white blouse, jeans.)
ROB
I thought you'd like it.
JEAN
How could...are you crazy? What would make you think I'd want...that?
ROB
I don't know. You're, it's just that --
(They freeze. A man in his 40s with touches of silver at the temples of his perfectly combed hair enters and crosses to stand behind Rob's right shoulder. He is dressed identically to Rob, though his shirt is neatly tucked and buttoned all the way to the top.)
ROB-2
It's just that you're a difficult person for whom to shop.
(Jean remains frozen, but Rob turns to look at his doppelganger.)
ROB
"For whom to shop?" Are you fucking kidding me? Look at her! She's already pissed off and now you want me to talk like an English professor in the middle of a fight?
ROB-2
There is no wrong time for good grammar.
ROB
Right. Well I think I'm going to take this one myself if you don't mind.
(Jean unfreezes.)
ROB (CONT)
-- you're a hard person to shop for.
JEAN
Hard? Hard how? Look around the apartment, Rob. Look over there on the counter. What do you see?
ROB
A pile of magazines?
JEAN
Catalogs. They're catalogs. With pages conveniently folded so you can see what I like. Trust me when I tell you not one of those catalogs has anything like...that.
ROB-2
She has a point.
ROB
(Glares at Rob-2) But Jeannie, if I just get you something from one of those, it's like I put no thought in it at all. You might as well just take a card from my wallet and order it yourself. I thought I could surprise you with something different. Something personal.
(Jean freezes. A third man appears, dressed the same but with his shirt completely undone and hair mussed. This one is 17 or 18. He stands behind Rob's left shoulder.)
ROB-3
Dude! Tell her how long it took!
ROB
Not now.
ROB-3
Tell her, man. An hour, just standing there with that stuff slathered on.
ROB
I wish I was at work.
ROB-2
Were at work. You wish you were at work.
ROB-3
Nice hair, grandpa. You put Crisco in that?
ROB-2
Get a job!
(Jean unfreezes.)
JEAN
You know I don't...do that. Why would you buy me a dildo?
ROB
That's just it! It's not just a dildo! It's an exact replica of me!
JEAN
What?
ROB-3
Tell her about the latex!
JEAN
What are you talking about?
ROB
Intimate Expressions - the sex shop by the Greyhound station - they have this new thing where they take casts of--
JEAN
--So now you're hanging out at sex shops?!?
(Rob-2 and Rob-3 both take a single, large step backwards.)
ROB
Just the one. I mean, no! I heard about it on the radio, is all. I swear. At Valentine's Day they were talking about it and I thought it'd be something you'd like. You always say how much you miss me when I work nights--
JEAN
--So you thought you could give me a rubber--
ROB-3
--Latex
ROB
Latex
JEAN
--latex version of your dick and that'd be alright? That's what you thought I meant when I said I missed you?
ROB
I just wanted--
ROB-2
--I just wanted, finally, to give you some memento to remind you of me.
ROB
Seriously! Who talks like that?
ROB-3
Tell her about the hot chick who took the mold!
ROB
Guys, really, I think I've got this. Thanks for all your help.
I just wanted to finally give you something special. I screwed up. Again. I'm sorry. Here, I'll throw it out.
(Rob extends his hand. Everyone freezes. A woman who looks just like Jean enters and crosses to stand behind Jean. She holds out her hand.)
JEAN-2
Oh hell no! If you're not going to use it, then give it to me!
BLACKOUT
Minor irritation for me today. Hopefully someday I can turn it into a bigger irritation for someone else. I'd added a widget to the blog a few days ago with a scrolling feed from the "scribosphere", a collection of blogs from screenwriters and spec monkeys. I also added my feed to the collection as I'm a spec monkey whose most frequent postings are on television.
Looks like someone took offense to my being listed, most likely because my last posting was not on-topic, and I was removed. But y'all know me...
I took a scan over the feeds and immediately recognized two for writers who do not write for film or television, one of whom has never expressed interest (on his blog; I don't know what's in his heart) in writing for either. I know this because I frequent both these writers' blogs daily. They're great, fun places to go and I've linked to them before. On top of not being screenwriters, both of these people frequently post on topics which are tangential at best to film and television. I didn't bother to check any of the other feeds listed (many of which I also regularly read and know to belong to screenwriters or screenwriters-to-be) because I'm congenitally lazy.
So as befits my petty nature, I've removed the widget from the page. As *more* befits my petty nature, if I ever find that I'm re-included in that collection (anyone can go to the site and recommend a feed) I'll be immediately demanding to be removed. And if it happens more than once, I'll make myself a boil on the maintainer's ass, forcing him to keep me off permanently. It wouldn't be a big deal to special-case the software (or just use an exclusion list) to keep feeds off that do not want ever to be included. But I hope it pisses off the keeper of the code.
I'm that fucking petty.
Realistically, I'm quite happy about this little irritation. I could write for me. I could write for fame and glory. I could write for money. But all of those reasons aren't enough to guarantee I'd overcome my laziness. But writing to FUCK someone else over? Writing, so I can become important enough to other writers that every fucking day someone submits my site and I can demand to be removed? Writing so I can make someone miserable? Now those are reasons to get up in the fucking morning!
Friend forwarded me a two-line IM exchange between himself and Project Manager. Initial testing has been underway for a few days and bug reports are trickling in to him on a web-based system with dozens of screens:
Engineer: Which cancel button is the tester talking about?
PM: The red one.
As opposed to a more definitive answer, such as one providing the url of the page in question, the PM answered "the red one."
Awesome.
And some people thought that after the strike, there'd be no reason to watch Nikki Finke. Without her, I probably wouldn't have seen this until April 3rd. And that's not nearly long enough to build up the kind of intense rage this deserves.
Goddamn motherfucking worthless sack of goat shit. Douchebag goes to candy stores, finds the littlest kids, steals their candy and throws it into traffic.
Hopefully SAG has the stones the writers didn't, and shuts down Hollywood. Add one simple demand to the list already in place: fire Jeff Zucker or we don't deal with NBC-Uni. Besides, shouldn't turning The Peacock into a third-rate network, battling with the C-fucking-W for last place, be enough cause to can his sorry ass? The hell with SAG; GE stockholders should be demanding Zucker's head.
Or maybe Hova can have the bitch shot for his parting words.
Two days ago we celebrated the day when my peeps killed your lord. He was a damn rabble rouser, and we're renown for rejecting rousers of rabble. He seemed like a nice enough fella, but just wouldn't stop talking about the kingdom of heaven right in front of the centurions. Bad move, Nazarene. So we offed him. Technically, we outsourced it to the Italians and they executed the contract. Then they poured themselves a nice espresso and lounged about, waiting 1900 years for a damn train to show up.
Today - two days later - y'all get to stick it to my peeps (the first of many times throughout the intervening millennia filled with pogroms, inquisitions, and temptations) by celebrating the rebirth of your lord three days after his death. Two thoughts on this: first off, this is why you want a Jewish accountant; and this is why I don't support outsourcing. If Caiaphas had sacked up and done the deed himself, the dead might have stayed dead.
Anyway, this is as good a day as any to find your Jewish friends (not as essential as black friends, but you know you've got one or two around to defend you in court or treat your high cholesterol) and say "nyah nyah nyah!" That's how it was in my house growing up.
On Good Friday, pops would silently enjoy his salmon while moms was chowing down on a juicy steak. Between bites, she'd taunt him with peals of laughter and reminders that his lord was dead and gone. Come Sunday, while overindulging on chocolate, pops would blurt out "in your face" and "talk to the bunny's hand!"
Hehehehehehehe!!!
And I bet y'all thought my tourney was a big bust! The Zags down in the first round. My beloved Huskies down in the first round. What joy could remain?
The greatest joy of all, of course!
DUCK FUKE!!!
Oh, and I picked that one too! I'm currently sitting unbelievably high, in the 99.8th percentile on the national bracket. Of course, that's today. Wait until all those games go by where Connecticut *doesn't* win. I'm doomed. but I'm happy! Ratface is going home this weekend, too.
DUCK FUKE!!!
PZ Myers gets interviewed for a movie. PZ Myers goes to a screening of the movie with his family and a guest. Producer of the film has security ban PZ Myers from the screening.
Big deal. It is a free country and the producer of the "documentary" Expelled is free to bar admittance to anyone he chooses at a free, pre-release screening. Especially as PZ Myers is a biologist and Expelled is Creationist propaganda. I'm sad such propaganda exists; I'm sad science is so disrespected in this country. But...
Without all of that - the crappy movie, the ham-fisted expulsion, and (essential to the story) the disrespect for science - we wouldn't have the punchline. PZ Myers' guest. He presented his British passport when asked for ID. He was admitted to the movie with a passport that reads Clinton Richard Dawkins.
Here's Myers' report from last night, blogged "from the Apple store in the Mall of America" while the movie was still playing. Here's a story in the Times that gives the producers their say. But let's be real: these are the sort of folks who think Kirk Cameron and his croco-duck are the bees knees. Not exactly the sort of folks with a firm grasp of reality.
After last week's two-man wrecking crew, this week we're back to three combatants. Still, there were some lingering personal, health, and weather issues keeping the warriors from fighting at peak form. See for yourselves as...
