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Main Junction: [Closed] Saturday Night Open Mic (26 April 08)
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Some Scientologists tried to ambush a friend at the LA Festival of Books, work had us rock out to Guitar Hero. Odd world. More later.
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Ah, Open Mic. You therapatize (that's a word now!) me.
Whew, where do I start? I am pretty sick of driving in the morning through like 5 towns and get to work, and no one comes in ALL fuckin day. It's a bummer and a waste of time. I wanna meet some goddamn girls. Where do I go for the creative ones? I remember this place called "school" and it's swarming with a few. One day I'll do that again, I'm busy.
I am a fuckin artist and I am always looking for decent feedback on my crap. I think my stuff is becoming more polished. I hope I can keep that up, I did not crawl out from my own muck only to slip up an draw shitty again.
I want to be a nice guy with no more Natural Born Killers scenes pooled in the back of my psyche, if that makes ANY sense. It's like the Heath Ledger version of Joker has always been in me, but I'm tired of feeling like I want to snap and burn the world down. I should make more friends. HAHAHAHAHAHA.
Where am I? At home in the same lil computer room/closet I've had since high school, I should relocate all the equipment soon AND inside this fucking year!
What do I want to make? Well, I want to make my eventual comic go online, kind of like a one man Act-i-Vate. And keep it on-going, and going, and going. And I want people to like it and like me. I want to make it a somewhat heartfelt extension of me, and not something hacky. Otherwise I won't do it.
Hey, that god speech by Gaius Baltar on BSG almost got to me! ha. Crafty bastard.
What's next, what's next.....Man. I really want to go to concerts again (preferably a NIN show!) and get sweaty with a bunch of completely drunk strangers. It's rather cleansing. *cough*
here's me. Sorry, I'll do a face one soon. My crappy tripod from Staples just broke.
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Oddly, most of the stuff that pissed me off this week didn't do so for long. Perhaps accepting Ambrose Bierce as my personal savior has its perks. I will say that I am never ever going to a science fiction convention as long as I live.
Filthy, strange and wonderful - you want 40 miles north or so.
I went to the Web 2.0 Expo in San Francisco for a day. Good points: Got to see actual Nokia phones from The Future, hung out with Eric "Saijo City" Rice, struck a blow for the people by lifting a Pepsi from the speaker's lounge. Unintentionally funny points: Listening to presenters talk about what they were doing to make it a green conference on a stage with a light and music show that would shame Las Vegas. More examples of people talking about how they can make social networking safe for the enterprise with their products offering tight access controls.
Next week I go to Pittsburgh, just like James Woods in Videodrome. Hoping to pick up tips at a conference on how one can actually pay the rent and bills as a freelance researcher, since this is apparently the Grim Meathook Future of what I used to do for the past 14 years.
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My week has been a lot of shit. Severely sick for most of it, getting far behind in class right before finals.
As I'm barely able to keep my head up for more then 10 minutes, I'm told my grandmother is dying. This doesn't bother me as I've met the women twice and last time it was nearly 20 years ago. Does shake up my mom though so I feel like a bastard at the same time for it not really impacting me. Also get stuck with house sitting for parents as they drive across the country to deal with all that.
My girlfriend wants a life plan from me, to have kids, where to live, and so on. Not the fucking week to hear all this of course.
So tonight I fucked off with a friend and went to Insane Clown Posse's wresting show. Ten years ago it would have wowed me, tonight I felt oh so out of place. But it was free. How fucking people are excited listening to the cds of a band and PAY for it is beyond me. The only benefit was a lot of free booze from some guy who thought we were down with it all... so I lied fuck it.
Tonight was all about remembering the past and burying lots of it int eh backyard so I never have to see it again. At least the parts you have outgrown. Also cheap, horrible tasting domestic FREE beer! -
@ScottBieser - That's sweet of you to say. Thanks.
No time for time off right now. I'll have a partial break when I'm in Paris for a couple weeks at the end of May though, so it isn't all bad.
And, I mean, just look at me now! All logged in to this forum and totally reading the Sat. Night Open Mic thread. It's breaktacular; I'm practically on vacation. Woo and so forth. -
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CommentAuthorhalcyonday
- CommentTimeApr 27th 2008
I spent yesterday taking advantage of the sun - I've been in the UK long enough to work out that you guys only actually get a fortnight of summer, spread over three months, so you have to grab 'em when you see 'em - and now I have an utterly ridiculous sunburn across the small of my back.
I can't write anything at the moment because I have the last essays I need to write for my Masters hanging over my head - deadline terror hasn't kicked in yet but the guilt has, which is the death knell for all other writing. When I can write again, I'm contemplating working on some old comic scripts but I'm drawn to the idea of a children's book, which is mildly horrifying as I like children but couldn't eat a whole one. We'll see how it goes though.
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- CommentAuthorCasey Moore
- CommentTimeApr 27th 2008 edited
Sitting here drinking bourbon (Woodford Reserve tonight) on the rocks hammering away at a screenplay listening to the soundtrack for the original The Thomas Crown Affair soundtrack and MIA's Paper Planes.
Pissed off at the people I work with. I swear on the first movie I direct I am going to put a big sign up saying: If this is not your passion, get the fuck out! I have lazy PA's to deal with and people who can't realize that even though our film isn't the greatest artistic achievement, there are things being done here which might set the future of 3D. Really, if I was on set for this one I would be having a great time; working in the office makes me want to shoot myself several times a day.
Of course reading someone's Iron Man: Extremis didn't help things tonight. Jesus, how do you shove that much thinking into those 6 issues? I won't even touch Adi Granov's art which is the only way Iron Man should be rendered. Also reading Robert Pelton's article in this month's Men's Journal: "My Friend: The Mercenary From Hell" I got to the end and wanted to hunt Pelton down and punch him. No matter how much of a shit your friend is, if they saved your life you keep fighting for them.
So that is my Saturday night/Sunday morning. Back to the writing. -
I don't have anything constructive or even interesting to add this week, but I think I shat myself. That's something, right?
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I have got to get out of here. I have to get out of this life. I don't know who I am, but whoever that is, she's boring and annoying. where is my tribe? Where are the people I just gel with, who are eager to see me and who I'm eager to see?
I desperately need something to grab onto. Something solid that means it's worthwhile to stick around and keep getting up every day and trying again. I think I should move to New York, but that's really just because the movie in my head makes that sound sexy eventhough I'll be just as alienated if not moreso. But if I know no one, then no one knows me and it's like starting again.
I ought to stop and figure this shit out. Because I'm becomming someone, and if I don't push for what I want I'll be someone I wasn't expecting, and there won't be a damned thing I can do about it. I'm just hanging around, pretending to try, waiting for something to show up. I need to build my own fucking house for my own life and to hell with just letting shit ride and trying to be cool with everything, even if I hate it.
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Oh and I'm DONE with my body not working like it should. I know I don't have a whole lot of control. If genetics shit-draw means my vision is going to go down the toilet merely because I turned 30 last year I know I'm SOL. But going blind SUCKS and GODDAMMIT IF I'M GOING TO VENT ABOUT SOMETHING IT'LL BE ABOUT <strong>GOING FUCKING <em>BLIND</em></strong>. *pant*pant* the treatments are expensive and involve steroid use and courting cataracts, prevention is many times more expensives and means courting liver failure. GOD FUCK SHIT BALLS -
I have had a nnumber of experiences with people from Whitechapel/P&P this week - both over the phone and mostly through the internet. I'm happy to making new friends and with people that at least I know are smart enough to be on the two best, interactive forums on the web.
I've had a couple of offers, communication with writers to illustrate their stories.
I'm finalizing plans to move from the dreaded and homely city of Pittsburgh, to the wonderful, urban landscape of Portland.
I spent today with the mother that I wasn't born to, but respect and confide in 100 times more, and ended it by getting drunk with friends from my old place of employment.
I will say, right now, that May is really looking up for me!! :)
*Not enough complaining, so I'll ear mark this for the Sunday post too. :)
-John -
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CommentAuthorBrandon Seifert
- CommentTimeApr 27th 2008 edited
Yesterday and today have been spectacular. Amazing. I released my first comic online and at a convention (no link this time, I've whored here it to the point that I'm on watch for the Arse Eels), and got a fuck of a lot of nice things said about it, sometimes by some of my favorite comics creators. I am basking in the glow of a Job Well Done.
This comes at the tail end of Deadlinefest 2008, the three busiest, most stressful weeks I can remember. By far. By Thursday night I felt like I was going to be crushed like an aluminum can by the stress. Then Friday the sun came out, and my friends the cats of the world presented themselves for me to pet them in the streets, and people loved my comic and the cherry blossoms were blooming. But Deadlinefest 2008 isn't over. It's only *almost* over. There's some people still demanding their pound of flesh, in ways infuriating and not appropriate at this time, and either I deliver it for them or it becomes hard for me to do certain things in these parts.
That would be what's pissing me off this week. And there's also the fact that, between deadlines and day jobs, I haven't even been able to start looking for a place to live, I haven't made it back on food stamps to supplement my ridiculously small income, and hey, it sure would be nice to own a shirt I haven't worn three or four times since I last washed it. Maybe soon there will be time for such things. And I still haven't applied to go work in Antarctica, dammit!
And then there's a certain lady I used to care about quite a bit. And today I was reminded why. It was the best of times, it was the blurst of times.
This is me a couple summers back, diligently getting work done.
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I'm the one throwing the peace sign.
Tell me what and who is pissing you off this week.
School--specifically Spanish class. I've never been that good at it, but I'm certain I would do better if I had a teacher that didn't have problems with English and did more reviews/tests so I didn't have to cram whole bulks of the language for every test.
Tell me your plans.
Tomorrow, finish up papers for classes, return my scratched up PSP game for a better copy or a different game, and finally get some more original writing in. There are plans after tomorrow, but I'm having difficulty thinking of them at this late hour.
Tell me where you are.
In my computer room with the door closed, in the broadest sense.
Tell me who and what you want to be.
Who is pretty simple--someone who gets to do what he loves to do. What is starting to get complicated. I'm thinking of journalism, but I wonder if that's going to get in the way of the original writing I want to do. I had ideas to be a scientist, perhaps a forensic scientist, but I wonder if I'm mentally capable to learn and remember what is necessary. So yeah, I'm kind-of at a crossroads. But I'll figure it out. It's either that or be miserable, and that's not fucking likely.
Tell me what you want to make.
Babies. With every female member of the 'Chapel. Set yourselves in a polite, orderly line and be inseminated.
Seriously, I want to get materials to make a brass/metal cane for badass/attack purposes.
Tell me what's next.
More internet fuckery, less procrastination (I'll find a way to make it non-contradictory), and plenty of laughs. -
Rough long working week of: family law firm --> shakespeare for screaming kids ---> family law firm---> shakespeare for screaming kids. Repeat ad nauseum.
Got to judge a shakespeare recitation competition at a fundamental islamic school. That was amazing.
Went to an 8 bit music show, but got impatient through all the suck to see this dude I know, Saskrotch, perform, so I invaded a boy's house and we had magnificent sex.
Tonight was a burlesque show. Tomorrow, I possibly kick out a roommate. No in-betweens for me. It is all either suck or awesome.
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Honestly, I had a whole thing typed out. It was paragraphs long. But somehow I managed to not hit the ENTER key and infect the internet with my drunken ramblings. Now it is five AM and I have to go to fucking work. And so I leave you with this:
And that is why I hate and love this city, people. -
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CommentAuthorDj Dead Billy
- CommentTimeApr 27th 2008 edited
it's late and i just got done djing a show.
skinheads eat horse dicks, i don't care what their political affiliation.
as much as punk rock affected me when i was young, the people who are over 21 and still into it need a good talking to.
punk rock is the "redneck" of all musical subcultures...i mean,seriously. bluegrass musicians are less redneck than punks.
this week i raised a bunch of money for aids research, a certain unnamed american presidential candidate (3grand!), and randomly ran into lawrence crowdog (of A.I.M. fame.)..for a guy who was considered a terrorist and probably has a 892376239847 page file from the fbi, he was pretty nice.
oh, and i drank until i puked black stuff that had tiny orange bits in it.
fuck scotch.
no.....no scotch, i love you. don't leave me...please
i don't have time to be funny or witty right now.
that is all.
dj db -
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It's technically Sunday morning and the word trellis popped in my mind. These things happen.
Music drifts up the hill on Santa Ana breezes. Acrid tunes that inspire wishes that the party would end. The drunken howls will be replaced by sirens soon enough. That's the Los Angeles ritual on Saturday nights. You breathe in a tube to discover the cost of your fun. All you get is .08 which isn't much fun at all.
Here's what's pissing me off. I've often been the target of some advice of the sort those giving believe sage. Don, they tell me, it's better to be happy than right. Had myself another instance this week where being right made me the asshole at work due to my confrontational nature. I refused to apologize, a quality that adds to my assholian legend.
So, I'm an asshole. My friends find it charming. They call me contrarian and invite me to dinner parties to stir up conversation.
Housesitting is almost over just in time for an inferno week in LA. 8 years have passed since I last enjoyed the gentle cool of an air conditioner. I have many goals for the coming months. AC is one of them.
28 Weeks Later plays on the TV while I concoct this. A terrible movie I witness upon it's release at the Los Feliz 3. It's on now as background noise while the laundry dries. And I'm in love with the little girl in the movie. I find it disturbing any time I fall in love with teens.
Calm down. I don't fall in love with teens in real life. Sick Monkeys. I don't fall in love with anyone in real life no matter how much I convince myself I do. I have theories on why. Oddly they have nothing to do with me being an asshole. -
It's just all bad. The fellow who asked me to be his mistress is feeling like maybe that was the wrong thing to do, and last night I was stood up by a whore. A charming whore, but he stood me up all the same. it might seem as if I'm bitching about sex, but really I'm bitching about companionship. It's been a tough and nasty knuckle fight of a week, with not a tenth enough wonderful to make me glow, and no one's holding me or trying to help me chase the bad feelings away. All I've got for the world is prickles, cynical comments, and wound-up desperation that lashes out like a bad metaphor in pointless bouts of self-flagellation. I work hard never to be one of those "a lesson is learned but the damage is irreversible" people, but really, chalk it up to a lifetime of terrible experiences with a side of pure bloody bad luck dumped on top. I'm so stressed out I'm starting to feel the same way I did when my boyfriend hanged himself the night we were finally going to sleep together. I know you understand.
It would be nice to let out that fragile, milk-white hedgehog underbelly I've got hidden away, but nothing's happening, there's no way out, no matter how much it likes to play. I need to get out of this city. I need to leave. -
- CommentAuthordejectedgeek
- CommentTimeApr 27th 2008
Well...I'm considering dating my friend's ex girlfriend. Hear me out first, they have been broken up for about three years now and he's with somebody now. I like her and I know she likes me too but we're holding off because we don't want to negatively affect the friendship we both have with my friend right now. After some consideration on my own end and input from others, I have decided to go for it. I will talk to him about it next I get a chance about it out of respect and hope that the outcome will be positive.
Other than that, been trying to work on my own comic IP influenced by your own work and am having a blast doing it. Hope I can put it out and you'll read it and do you proud. Been a fan for a little bit now and love what you put out.
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Morning, Whitechapel. Last week I had a good excuse to not show you a pic of me looking morose and unkempt in a dressing gown, but this week I don't. Sorry.
Well, it's been a pretty, pretty good week, really. No bone to pick, and the only thing that has pissed me off has been the comical ineptitude of some of the school bursars I support at work. It pisses me off in a paternal 'I think I need to explain how things work to you' kind of way, and frankly there are far worse forms of pissed-offness then that.
My plans? Well, I want to do more painting. I finished this one on Monday, and it amuses me
and hopefully the other three people on the planet who subscribe to the theory that TV's Gok Won is only pretending to be gay so women will parade around in front of him wearing not very much at all. As for what I want to make, a couple of friends have birthdays coming up, so I'm thinking badly rendered but personal gifts are the way to go. A friend of mine is loving Ennis' The Boys at the moment, so I might do some kind of faux cover with him beating up superman, or somerthing.
Filthy, strange, and wonderful? Well, my pinky toenail randomly shedding was kind of strange, but apparently not all that uncommon. Hopefully I can score filth and wonder points when I attend a monthly meeting of fellow deviants later, but no doubt it'll just be the same old faces.
Who and what I want to be? Someone who can look back on life without a long list of "I wish I'd tried .." Problem being, I will only know if I have achieved this when it's too late to change it anyway.
What's next? Eggy bread for breakfast, I think. Peace out, Whitechapel. -
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CommentAuthorV
- CommentTimeApr 27th 2008
@foxtongue - I know how it feels to need to leave a city, even if I don't know how some of the rest of that feels. I hope things get better, and I hope you escape to somewhere fabulous. -
