This is a Yahoo message that I got this morning from a known MySpacer friend of mine.
xte****:
Good Morning Sunshineeeeeeeeeeee lol
dammit, i stepped in cat shit! lol
That was the entire message.
Always good information to share with someone.
It certainly inspired me to have a wonderful and productive day.
On the other hand... I wish that I had slept more than two hours.
I'm tired and bitchy... but, amused none the less.
Wednesday, May 4, 2005
Art imitates life - My oral surgery... bloody hell!! I'm going to miss an "Angel" episode!
Another chapter in the Aventurous Life of Phil - April 2005:
The trip to the Dentist ending in a game of Slice & Dice -
On Monday, April 25th, I went to my dentist to finish the job of putting a crown in (actually two, apparently).
Simple enough, one might think (unless your squeamish).
But no, as she is poking and prodding around in my food-hole, she realizes that I have issues. No, not as in personal mental issues, but something more insidious (that means serious). I need some serious surgery, and, like, now! Before any infections can set in.
Presto! I am scheduled for Wednesday, April 27th - two days later.
No time like the present, they say.
Wednesday comes around, and I am watching an episode of "Angel" on TNT, the great drama re-run network.
"Angel" for those of you uninitiated, is about a vampire of the same name... who has a soul. Get it? Good.
This episode concerns a woman who wants to become like him. In a fit of outrage, Angel forces her to drink blood by pouring it down her throat. At this point, I have to leave to make my appointment time. (And if you know me, I'm almost never on time... except this time.)
I get to the dentist and it's wham-bam! Right down to it. I'm settled in, injected with foul-tasting anesthetic, and promptly started upon with the scalpel.
In no time, I am suddenly reliving the very scene I just left from "Angel".
I am now forced to drink an onslaught of blood... my own... right down my throat! Perhaps the "Angel" episode was a sick look into what was about to happen to me. Thrilling, to say the least.
But wait... there's more... Sensing my twitchy behavior within my chair, my dentist informs me, very non-chalantly, that, "There is nothing in your mouth that you cannot swallow. So go ahead."
At this point a thought came to mind, followed later by another...
1) What if I do not WANT to swallow the viscous red liquid flowing freely down into my gullet?
2) What about the surgical tools jammed into my yap? Are THEY OK to swallow? Technically, she did mention that anything within the confines of my jaws was "OK to swallow".
There is a further thought to this situation... The idea of someone suggesting that whatever is "in your mouth is OK to swallow", seems to be something that mostly guys are famous for saying to unsuspecting girls. Usually in high school, before common sense sets in.
Was this my doctor's way of getting back at me for being a male? Forcing me to swallow something, that was created by my own body, but that neither taste, nor texture, nor desire made me wish to do so. Interesting theorems. Yes, some of you do worry that I over-think too much. Perhaps I do. I like it. You should too. Someone has to ponder these odd problems out. Stay tuned for further adventures...
The trip to the Dentist ending in a game of Slice & Dice -
On Monday, April 25th, I went to my dentist to finish the job of putting a crown in (actually two, apparently).
Simple enough, one might think (unless your squeamish).
But no, as she is poking and prodding around in my food-hole, she realizes that I have issues. No, not as in personal mental issues, but something more insidious (that means serious). I need some serious surgery, and, like, now! Before any infections can set in.
Presto! I am scheduled for Wednesday, April 27th - two days later.
No time like the present, they say.
Wednesday comes around, and I am watching an episode of "Angel" on TNT, the great drama re-run network.
"Angel" for those of you uninitiated, is about a vampire of the same name... who has a soul. Get it? Good.
This episode concerns a woman who wants to become like him. In a fit of outrage, Angel forces her to drink blood by pouring it down her throat. At this point, I have to leave to make my appointment time. (And if you know me, I'm almost never on time... except this time.)
I get to the dentist and it's wham-bam! Right down to it. I'm settled in, injected with foul-tasting anesthetic, and promptly started upon with the scalpel.
In no time, I am suddenly reliving the very scene I just left from "Angel".
I am now forced to drink an onslaught of blood... my own... right down my throat! Perhaps the "Angel" episode was a sick look into what was about to happen to me. Thrilling, to say the least.
But wait... there's more... Sensing my twitchy behavior within my chair, my dentist informs me, very non-chalantly, that, "There is nothing in your mouth that you cannot swallow. So go ahead."
At this point a thought came to mind, followed later by another...
1) What if I do not WANT to swallow the viscous red liquid flowing freely down into my gullet?
2) What about the surgical tools jammed into my yap? Are THEY OK to swallow? Technically, she did mention that anything within the confines of my jaws was "OK to swallow".
There is a further thought to this situation... The idea of someone suggesting that whatever is "in your mouth is OK to swallow", seems to be something that mostly guys are famous for saying to unsuspecting girls. Usually in high school, before common sense sets in.
Was this my doctor's way of getting back at me for being a male? Forcing me to swallow something, that was created by my own body, but that neither taste, nor texture, nor desire made me wish to do so. Interesting theorems. Yes, some of you do worry that I over-think too much. Perhaps I do. I like it. You should too. Someone has to ponder these odd problems out. Stay tuned for further adventures...
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
I've been robbed!! But... in a good way??
My life is always interesting. Even when bad, negative things happen to me... it almost always ends up for a good reason, or a good outcome.
Last night, I was shopping for groceries at Safeway.
I put my carry-along with my wallet and everything up on the roof of my car... and promptly forget about it as I leave the premises. Not until noon today do I realize that, "SHIT! My wallet is gone!"
Of course no one has turned it into Safeway's management - which is fine as there was no money in it. BUT... I hated to lose business contact phone numbers (not too many).
I call my bank first to let them know that my bank Debit / Credit card was lost and supposedly stolen. I explain very quickly, but very carefully, that ALL my forms of ID were in there - Driver's license, my ID, bank card, passport, medical card, and everything... Gone!!
The bank guy on the phone says, "Can I have your bank card number please?"
"NO!!" I tell him... "But you can call the guy who stole it and ask HIM."
He then asks me for my other information and we continue.
He looks up my information and asks me when I made my last bank transaction. I told him... last night at the Safeway store. And that I made a deposit the day before for $65.
He thinks for minute... then comes the funny part...
He tells me that I now have a Credit of $114. in my bank.
I said, "Do you mean someone STOLE $114. from my account."
He says, "No. Someone just put $114. INTO your account."
I then tell him... "In that case, I like this thief and want him to continue to use my card."
HA HA!!!
The bank guy takes me seriously and doesn't say anything else. I then remind him that I am calling to cancel my bank card and to get a new one. He doesn't seem to understand why.
I explain that I do not want someone ELSE shopping with my money.
He agrees.
He tells me that he will send my new bank card to my bank near me, and that I can pick it up this Friday.
Sounds good.
He then tells me, "You will need to bring 2 forms of ID with you."
I think for a moment and ask him, "Did you and I just have a conversation about what was stolen?"
He says, "Yes."
I said, "Then you will remember that I just told you ALL my IDs are stolen. Every one of them... all licenses and cards."
Bank guy thinks and asks, "Do you have a driver's license?"
Me, "NO!!"
Bank guy, "How about a birth certificate?"
Me, "NO!!!"
Bank guy, "Do you have any other forms of ID?"
I say, "What do you not understand about the words 'ALL MY IDS' are stolen?"
He then says, "OK, well then you can just go in and talk to the bank manager, and she can probably help you and give you your new bank card."
Argh! The stupidity of humankind.
An addendum to this story: It turned out that the bank dork on the phone (and yes, sitting in a chair in a far-away country), could not read the data correctly. It turned out to be a deposit that I had made myself, about a week previously, which for some reason posted to my account late. But bank dork read it as a brand new bank posting. Nice.
Last night, I was shopping for groceries at Safeway.
I put my carry-along with my wallet and everything up on the roof of my car... and promptly forget about it as I leave the premises. Not until noon today do I realize that, "SHIT! My wallet is gone!"
Of course no one has turned it into Safeway's management - which is fine as there was no money in it. BUT... I hated to lose business contact phone numbers (not too many).
I call my bank first to let them know that my bank Debit / Credit card was lost and supposedly stolen. I explain very quickly, but very carefully, that ALL my forms of ID were in there - Driver's license, my ID, bank card, passport, medical card, and everything... Gone!!
The bank guy on the phone says, "Can I have your bank card number please?"
"NO!!" I tell him... "But you can call the guy who stole it and ask HIM."
He then asks me for my other information and we continue.
He looks up my information and asks me when I made my last bank transaction. I told him... last night at the Safeway store. And that I made a deposit the day before for $65.
He thinks for minute... then comes the funny part...
He tells me that I now have a Credit of $114. in my bank.
I said, "Do you mean someone STOLE $114. from my account."
He says, "No. Someone just put $114. INTO your account."
I then tell him... "In that case, I like this thief and want him to continue to use my card."
HA HA!!!
The bank guy takes me seriously and doesn't say anything else. I then remind him that I am calling to cancel my bank card and to get a new one. He doesn't seem to understand why.
I explain that I do not want someone ELSE shopping with my money.
He agrees.
He tells me that he will send my new bank card to my bank near me, and that I can pick it up this Friday.
Sounds good.
He then tells me, "You will need to bring 2 forms of ID with you."
I think for a moment and ask him, "Did you and I just have a conversation about what was stolen?"
He says, "Yes."
I said, "Then you will remember that I just told you ALL my IDs are stolen. Every one of them... all licenses and cards."
Bank guy thinks and asks, "Do you have a driver's license?"
Me, "NO!!"
Bank guy, "How about a birth certificate?"
Me, "NO!!!"
Bank guy, "Do you have any other forms of ID?"
I say, "What do you not understand about the words 'ALL MY IDS' are stolen?"
He then says, "OK, well then you can just go in and talk to the bank manager, and she can probably help you and give you your new bank card."
Argh! The stupidity of humankind.
An addendum to this story: It turned out that the bank dork on the phone (and yes, sitting in a chair in a far-away country), could not read the data correctly. It turned out to be a deposit that I had made myself, about a week previously, which for some reason posted to my account late. But bank dork read it as a brand new bank posting. Nice.
Monday, March 14, 2005
Mark Ryden's art kicks ass
A note for art fans...
If you haven't checked out the bizarre, disturbing, yet strangely captivating art of Mark Ryden...
do so immediately.
Awesome work. http://www.markryden.com
If you haven't checked out the bizarre, disturbing, yet strangely captivating art of Mark Ryden...
do so immediately.
Awesome work. http://www.markryden.com
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Hate bad movies? Try acting in one...
It's venting time...
So I'd been working with this group who are doing a TV series that they are hoping to sell.
(Being Veronica Craven and “In The Cellar.”)
Fangoria magazine has some contest for filmmakers to submit a short 15 min. horror film to "win.“ The prize is the winner being included in a DVD-released film. (Whoop-d-doo)
WE, the involved parties, get nothing. No pay, and no rights to sell the film.
Neat. But our TV group decides to participate. The film was to be called, "The Necklace."
From there it got ugly.
I go to San Francisco to shoot the scene I'm in.
I read the script the night before, that the director had written.
I quickly realize that not only does the story really have no focus (other than attempting to be... "oooh spoooky"), but it is totally convoluted without reason. In the first 2 minutes my character goes from stabbing needles in a voodoo doll to being a palm reader to selling an amulet to a guy as an anniversary gift to his wife. I tell him he's going to die, and he's cheated on her.
Oh, and the amulet is a million years old and possessed by a 100,000 priestess from another dimension, which... has been also given to the Eros, the Roman god of Love.
Hmmm... love the continuity.
So... I cut all that crap out of the script which sent the director and lead actor scrambling.
Then came the discussion about how film directing is NOT the same as theatric directing (again, the brilliance of the director). Ohhhhh man! If I had to do it all over again... I wouldn't. Stay tuned for my own film projects coming soon enough this summer...
I should mention, as it turned out, that the ”director“ was actually a film buff who, along with his partner, had never actually made a film before. This was their first attempt, and somehow earned them the right to not take advice from those in the industry, and to be cranky about it.
Stay away from amateurs.
So I'd been working with this group who are doing a TV series that they are hoping to sell.
(Being Veronica Craven and “In The Cellar.”)
Fangoria magazine has some contest for filmmakers to submit a short 15 min. horror film to "win.“ The prize is the winner being included in a DVD-released film. (Whoop-d-doo)
WE, the involved parties, get nothing. No pay, and no rights to sell the film.
Neat. But our TV group decides to participate. The film was to be called, "The Necklace."
From there it got ugly.
I go to San Francisco to shoot the scene I'm in.
I read the script the night before, that the director had written.
I quickly realize that not only does the story really have no focus (other than attempting to be... "oooh spoooky"), but it is totally convoluted without reason. In the first 2 minutes my character goes from stabbing needles in a voodoo doll to being a palm reader to selling an amulet to a guy as an anniversary gift to his wife. I tell him he's going to die, and he's cheated on her.
Oh, and the amulet is a million years old and possessed by a 100,000 priestess from another dimension, which... has been also given to the Eros, the Roman god of Love.
Hmmm... love the continuity.
So... I cut all that crap out of the script which sent the director and lead actor scrambling.
Then came the discussion about how film directing is NOT the same as theatric directing (again, the brilliance of the director). Ohhhhh man! If I had to do it all over again... I wouldn't. Stay tuned for my own film projects coming soon enough this summer...
I should mention, as it turned out, that the ”director“ was actually a film buff who, along with his partner, had never actually made a film before. This was their first attempt, and somehow earned them the right to not take advice from those in the industry, and to be cranky about it.
Stay away from amateurs.
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