Pretentious Douchebag

I enjoy this.

Wed, 04 Apr 2012 01:09:43 -0400

I enjoy this.

Man, this is good.

Wed, 04 Apr 2012 01:04:33 -0400

sansqualities:

What we had done
with whom
how it felt
What we hadn’t
why not
who had.

Arf Arf

Sun, 11 Mar 2012 09:01:27 -0400

iamtwoyearsold:

In about a little less than 11 hours we shall have begun our last day of shooting on “Happy Birthday”. Whatta small crew we have this time! and so few locations!I love it. This time around I was the A.D

This played in my head all day, and it was so awesome I decided to be greedy keep it there.

Fly me to the moon
Let me play, amongs the stars
Let me see what spring is like,onnnn jupitar or mars

In other words
Hold my hand

In other words
Baby kiss me.

Frankie always kills it.

The shit you find on your hard drive...

Wed, 25 Jan 2012 00:36:15 -0500

INT. LOUNGE DAY

CHARLIE

So I had this friend, right? His

name was Danny. Good guy, good

life, good girlfriend, good job-at

least, good job for a student.

Really smart. Really really smart.

Like, he read books and listened to

Bach. But one day, he went crazy,

right outside a Wal-Mart.

EXT. WAL-MART DAY

Danny is walking towards it, and then he stops, shrouded in

the blue immensity, and starts SCREAMING.

INT. LOUNGE DAY

CHARLIE

He read a lot of Marx.

EXT. WAL-MART DAY

Continued SCREAMING.

INT. LOUNGE DAY

CHARLIE

That may have had something to do

with it.

You know who else doesn’t get enough love? Harvey Danger.

Fri, 30 Dec 2011 01:33:59 -0500

You know who else doesn’t get enough love? Harvey Danger.

FEELINGS

Fri, 30 Dec 2011 01:26:00 -0500

So let’s just assume for a moment that Pretentious Douchebag is kinda…you know.
Kitey. Yeah. Let’s assume that. Now, let’s talk.

The future terrifies me.

I think it goes without saying that the future - the impending sense that the world will move on, with or without you, for better or for worse, objectively and without emotion - terrifies most of us. I’m reminded of a quote by Sagan, made in regards to our little planet:

The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every “superstar,” every “supreme leader,” every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived here.

The concept of being meaningless, the idea that we’re all alone and that the world continues without us, is scary. But not as scary as the idea that we could all be gone anywhere between now and sixty years; that this lifetime may be our last. That, on a world that’s been spinning for billions of years, we are the ones to witness the twilight of our own species. One look at the newspaper sets off a spiral in the recesses of my chest, fuelled by oil spills, nuclear winter, fundamentalism and the promise of a final, all-encompassing world war, fought over what little resources we haven’t squandered.

But then, I’ll look up from the newspaper, on the train, at the people around me, and I’ll consider them in full-the fathers taking their daughters to baseball games, the boy showing his grandparents how to play his videogame, the ragged biker helping an elderly man with a luggage bag, the parents filming their son’s first train ride, and I think, if only for a moment, that the future’s gonna be alright.

I think the future is a matter of perspective.

DAT PETER GABRIEL. Seriously though, this cover is beautiful

Wed, 21 Dec 2011 04:21:16 -0500

DAT PETER GABRIEL. Seriously though, this cover is beautiful

The Nocturnes Party

Wed, 21 Dec 2011 04:16:01 -0500

It’s 4:15 am, leave me alone.

Macabre visions on the wall
Shadows dancing blindly
Feel that sordid gothic pall
The apparitions treat you kindly
In a room so quiet still
Yet alive with silent cries
They’ll dance until they’ve had their fill
And then they will rise
Truly bent and vicious things
Far too pretty to behold
The demeanour of good tyrant kings
And all that they extolled.

DAT WORD

Wed, 07 Dec 2011 10:14:02 -0500

I just want to take this moment to say something profound and beautiful to you; a word of such stunning simplicity and incredible meaning that you will struggle to expunge the raw emotion it conjures up and the sheer strength of meaning in the brevity of its four letters. A word of simple, immeasurable, timeless and altogether infinite energy:

poop

That is all.

Frightened Rabbit doesn’t get enough love.

Mon, 05 Dec 2011 01:20:39 -0500

Frightened Rabbit doesn’t get enough love.

Noir Dialogue (Excerpt)

Sun, 04 Dec 2011 00:45:31 -0500

This is from a noir I’m trying to write. First draft, probably going to make the dialogue less aggressively stylistic in a rewrite.

GIBSON

You just said, call time’s nine oh.

LEHANE

We drop in four dots early, it’s no

stink.

GIBSON

It’s not about a stink, it’s about

the job. We punch in at nine. Don’t

corpse on this one.

LEHANE

I don’t corpse.

GIBSON

So you say, and then you see the

skirts…

He looks at the club out the window.

GIBSON (CONT)

Especially in a joint like this.

LEHANE

I won’t corpse.

GIBSON

(Gesturing with his gun)

Corpse and I’ll see you exit by way

of the silver spotlight.

Go to music for feeling bright.

Sat, 03 Dec 2011 12:16:05 -0500

Go to music for feeling bright.

Sufjan Stevens makes everything wonderful

Fri, 02 Dec 2011 15:06:35 -0500

Sufjan Stevens makes everything wonderful

It's freezing the shit out of me (Poem)

Fri, 02 Dec 2011 14:34:16 -0500

My writing warm up for today. First draft, ten minutes.

Slates of gray streaking the sky

and all the trees are dead.

Over spindly branches

light flows a little quicker.

There are no birds

there is no dew.

Just

cold crystal wraps

over stunted green

and perennial gray

approaching

the second solstice

of another year.

Hello, winter.

Oh hey Abdul! GUESS WHO'S DRINKING VANILLA COKE?! You best rewrite that excerpt because it's FACTUALLY INCORRECT!!!!!11!

Mon, 28 Nov 2011 00:41:21 -0500

ARTISTIC LICENSE. WOOP WOOP.

HIIII YAY ABDUL IS FOLLOWING MEEE <3

Sun, 27 Nov 2011 14:51:33 -0500

CHYEAAHHHHHHHH :D

Vanilla Coke-An excerpt

Sun, 27 Nov 2011 14:49:00 -0500

INT. RESTAURANT

An unnamed restaurant.

RICKY

So, before it happened-

He opens his coke and starts rummaging through his jacket

pockets.

RICKY

I talked to Liam, and Liam was-

JAY

-Not talking to you?

Liam produces a tiny bottle of vanilla extract and gestures

to Jake’s stir stick, resting on a napkin.

RICKY

You done with that?

Jay nods. Ricky takes it.

RICKY

(Putting drops of vanilla

extract into his coke)

Anyways, that’s not it…he was

distant, sure, but he wasn’t angry

anymore. That was good.

Jay stares at the coke.

RICKY

And we talked-

JAY

What are you doing?

RICKY

What? Oh, this?

JAY

Yes, what the fuck-?

RICKY

They don’t make vanilla coke

anymore. You know? They cancelled

vanilla coke. Back to-

JAY

-And this is your solution.

RICKY

Uh, yeah. Vanilla coke was the

best coke. It was perfect.

He takes the stir stick.

RICKY

(Stirring the coke)

It tastes the exact same when I do

it this way, though-try it-

He holds out the coke. Jay takes it and sips.

JAY

That does taste similar-

RICKY

Not similar. It tastes the exact.

fucking. same. I have twenty

unopened cans at home to test it.

against. Three drops of extract per

can. Back to-

JAY

You can manufacture it yourself-

RICKY

Yes, I can. Anyway, Liam was-

JAY

But you keep cans?

RICKY

What?

JAY

You have cans of vanilla coke at

home.

RICKY

The cans are for special occasions.

Births, deaths, you know. Weddings.

But yeah-

JAY

You can make it yourself-

RICKY

Vanilla coke is more than just the

drink. It’s the process. It’s the

aesthetic.

JAY

Aesthetic?

RICKY

The amber can. The experience of

just opening it and drinking it, no

extract needed. The manufactured

quality of the mixture. You can’t

manufacture something so perfectly

artificial. But you can create-

He holds up the bottle of extract.

RICKY

An approximation. Extract and

normal coke work for general

drinking, but the experience of a

vanilla coke is something special.

Jay stares.

JAY

I see.

RICKY

Can I go back to Liam, or…

JAY

No, uh-keep going. They still sell

vanilla coke in the States.

RICKY

I know. It upsets me. Anyway…

Writers Block

Sun, 27 Nov 2011 14:35:09 -0500

Not very big and not very bright; a small incongruous brick moulded from the same steel they used to press on witches chests to drown them in the medieval ages. Writers worst enemy, quite difficult to overcome.

When August Rolls Into Town

Wed, 16 Nov 2011 21:18:00 -0500

I wrote this a while ago. FUCK YEAH UPDATES.

When August rolls into Town

All the children are asleep

Settled down, in blankets bound

As the season makes to quickly creep

Away and into sight once seen

To be spoken of: what has been

And what seemed as a great stretch of time

When trees were left for them to climb

When Aestas stood in her prime

When days were long, now shorter worn

By the passage of an elder time

In a ceaseless rhythmic rhyme

Infinite fortune most unkind

As the children will wake to find

Summer’s passing down the line

When August rolls into Town

"Madame Death walks up to you wearing a dress. she sits down, you buy her a beer, she stinks of..."

Sun, 23 Jan 2011 21:45:00 -0500

“Madame Death walks up to you wearing a dress. she sits down, you buy her a beer, she stinks of swamps, presses a leg against you. the bar tender sneers. you’ve got him worried, he doesn’t know if you’re a cop, a killer, a madman or an Idiot. you ask for a vodka. you pour the vodka into the top of the beer bottle. It’s one a.m. In a dead cow world. you ask her how much for head, drink everything down, it tastes like machine oil.”

- Charles Bukowski