What's worse: the fact that this is a show, or that it was popular enough to warrant a second season and spin-off?

Truly, I'm stumped. Sickened, and stumped.

Mostly sickened.

Not Today

I was unexpectedly called into work today, so my mind really isn't in it to write about the revenge tragedies. No, I'm not trying to delay it, and yes, I realize I'm pretty much blogging to myself when I write this, but at least I'm technically posting today. NaBloPoMo: satisfied.

And in case you were wondering, here's a few updates from the front lines of the writers' strike. Keep fighting the good fight.

Kraft Kommercials

I recently helped to make a commercial for a contest with a groups of guys I met in Austin. Kraft wanted 15-second spots about "having a happy sandwich" or something, so this is what we came up with. Well, this is the 30-second extended version, but it worked soooo much better this way. And yes, it is pretty cheesy (pun intended).

It's a satisfying feeling to actually be doing something more than writing, even if it's just a cheese commercial. We'll soon be filming some more hijinks and/or hilarity; I'll be sure to keep you posted.

We'll chat tomorrow. Maybe naughtiness then? Hmm?

A Year in the Life

It's not everyday you get a year's worth of pictures in one roll of film, but tonight I finally developed a disposable camera I've had since last November. It notched quite a few miles, but always managed to survive trips. This of course begs the question, "What's Greg been up to in the last year?" I'm sure you all care so much, so here's a sample:

November 2006: Phil and Jessica's wedding. Enjoying a drink with one Sen. Andy Hamersen, Esq.

Same night: Post-reception spooning.

December 2006: My sister's graduation from Texas Tech. That's my grandma on the far right, probably admiring some stray cattle. They roam wild in west Texas.

March(ish) 2007: Enjoying someone's drunken misfortune at a friend's cocktail party.

June 2007: Driving back from L.A., the Chief and I spot some covered wagons in the distance. Raping and pillaging ensue.

Last night: Eric and some of his old friends meet in Austin, which is convenient for me, since I live there. It was a lot of fun.

Here's a shot of the entire group at Roux, where we ended up both nights.

Padding

I don't have much for you today, sadly (thankfully?). Which makes me think that if this NaBloPoMoJoDayGlo is about being a writing exercise, am I doing this simply for the sake of posting today and kinda cheating myself? Probably, but cheating really isn't a problem with me, if you read the post below.

For now, enjoy a classic Daffy Duck cartoon, "Dripalong Daffy." Homber...I love it. One of my favorites.


I'm thinking we may get a bit naughty tomorrow, 17th Century style. What tawdry bits of ribaldry await you? Find out tomorrow.

Oh, and GO MIZZOU!! Here's to a Jayhawk slaughter next Saturday. If the Tigers run the table and beat kU and OU, we're talking championship bowl game. Who's coming with me? I'll bring this up again later.

An Upcoming Case of Mistaken Identity

In-state residency. Frak.

I'd like to take a class this January at Austin Community College, but I'll have to pay out-of-state tuition. The difference between in-state and out-of-state for a three-hour class? About 640 large: $160 to $800.

But I really want to take this screenwriting class, so what's a poor New Mexican to do? Why, beat the system, of course.

After talking with my sister's boyfriend, he graciously accepted my proposal to take the class under his name. Sure, the class won't go on my record, but that's okay. The only thing I'm worried about is not realizing I'm getting called upon in class. I think I can solve this on the first day: "Hi everyone, my name's Heath, but my friends call me Greg."

I'm also worried about the ramifications if he takes classes there in the fall. Would they have my picture on file after I take one for my student ID? Also, would he meet with the same adviser when he goes in? There are some potential problems, some I'm probably unnecessarily trumping up, but I think this is too good to pass. Your thoughts?

Never Could Stand That Dog...

Tom Waits has a long record (and a few successful lawsuits) of anti-commercialism. But there was one he lent his voice to, and it just may be the greatest dog food commercial ever. A lot of you have seen this before, and so have I, but it's still worth sharing. That, and it also gives me an excuse to show some vintage Tom Waits singing "Step Right Up" at a live performance in West Germany, so enjoy.

Faith? No More.

No, this isn't yet another Mike Patton pander (although that will come soon). Instead, this headline is in reference to my lack of faith in our citizenry. And even that's a lie, as I've lost faith in the competency of the general public a looooong time ago. But still, it seemed like a clever enough title for what I have to share.

I know many of you use Google for web searches, directions, babysitting, nuclear bomb assembly instructions, and of course, videos. You're one of millions everyday using this behemoth of a search engine. But what are people looking for? Luckily, Google Videos lets you see the Top 100 videos watched by us John Q. Publics. The top 5? Not pretty. At all. But to save you the trouble of seeing yourself, here they are:

#1: Girls Kissing on a Bed - This is pretty self-explanatory, but I was hesitant to click and watch it, afraid of having my apartment raided by Chris Hansen.
#2: Barbie Girl - Pretty much, it's two girls lip-synching to the Aqua's opus, "Barbie Girl." I can't even think of a joke funnier or more pathetic than that last sentence. Seriously, is this 1997? #2? Really?
#3: "Crank Dat" by Soulja Boy - So many words come to mind when watching this: talentless, hack, Top 40 shit, garroting. This is what gives hip hop and respectable rappers a bad name. Bland, unoriginal rap churned out by studios to do nothing more than sell records and make the entire black population look bad. It's the dumbening of America, one song at a time. Songs like this is why I made my parody to "This Is Why I'm Hot," titled "This Is Why I Suck."
#4: Makeout - Again, more girls making out, this time at some private school. At least I assume so, as I avoided it like everyone avoided me at tonight's film mixer (wait, that's not funny).
#5: Snake coughs up entire hippo - Honestly, the regurgitation of a hippo is probably the most intelligent of everything on this list. And it's nature, so it's educational, right?

So there you go, this is what people are spending their time to look up online. Nothing educational, practical, or even entertaining. And yet, I'm not at all surprised. Until tomorrow, have a good night, everyone.

Inspiration Above My Desk

This poster hangs above my desk, and I always love looking up and admiring all of its intricacies. This was given to me while working at PAIN Magazine. I truly heart the old school tattoo style, and have thought of going crazy with said style on mine own canvas (but probably won't).

Yes, one of the many perks of working at my previous place of employment was the free swag. In my time, I walked away with quite a few stickers, patches, lotions, soaps, a few pipes, some salvia (but we know how that turned out), three glass-blown dogs (a chow, bulldog, and mini pinscher), an original Sailor Jerry business card along with his book, and lots and lots of artwork from tattoo studios.

Getting artwork was always my favorite. Before the magazines, I was fairly unfamiliar with the goings-on in the body modification community. But over the next 20 months, I got to meet a lot of artists, some of which even played on our softball team. Artists from all over the country would send in pictures of finished pieces and/or information about their studio. I interviewed business/studio owners every month, and I once had a very, very, cool 30-minute conversation with Lyle Tuttle. Also, writers (and friends) were sending in articles and monthly columns, so although I didn't have the ink to walk the walk, I thought I could talk up a pretty good storm.

And I'd like to continue talking about ink, if that's alright. Many people only know shows Inked or L.A. Ink. I have some problems with the former, but they help to expand people's knowledge about tattoos beyond tribals or the lower back butterfly, but there are SO MANY ARTISTS out there making amazing artwork. Here's a few I'd like you to check out:

Monte Agee: That's his name to the right in my links, too. CHECK HIM OUT!! He might be my favorite artist and puts out some incredibly detailed work.
Brandon Bond: From All or Nothing Tattoo in Atlanta. Brandon is a pretty crazy guy; he's been published, put on a DVD following him around, and has won many, many awards.
Mark Carter: Non-tattoo artist, but an artist nonetheless. There's so much embedded within each piece, you find something new each time. Also a really nice guy.
Deano Cook: Very realistic and beautiful underwater tattoos.

...and there's just so many others I can't remember off the top of my head. PAIN was my favorite magazine of the three, as the body mod industry is a very unique, creative, and eccentric one. And to close this post, I'll leave you with some truly old school designs...8-Bit ink!

The Object of My Ire

Greg hates Porsche Cayennes.

There, I said it. What started out as general dislike in Albuquerque grew to strong annoyance from the overabundance of them in Los Angeles, and now has bloomed into full-blown hatred after getting honked by one today.

I was sitting at a stoplight while taking a delivery, and I notice one stop behind me. When the light turned green, maybe one second had passed when I get a honk from behind. It was that fucking Cayenne, and the driver was obviously much more important than I. I look back startled, wondering if I actually heard that. I even saw the driver next to me do the same, also startled by the driver's dicketry. If I wasn't in a rush to deliver some hot and fresh goodies, I would have planted myself there and waited until the yellow light to go, all the while listening to his honking. But no, I had to drive, so I accelerated s-l-o-w-l-y and had about ten or so cars pass me on the other side before the Cayenne had a chance to pass me. I then sped up and made the delivery, but still fuming over the impatient yuppie. And the car was this ugly tan, too. Fuckstick.

But fuckstick aside, let's talk about the Cayenne itself. First off, why the hell are you buying an SUV from Porsche? Porsche, really? If you're going into a Porsche dealer, it should never...never ever ever...be to look for a family vehicle. Rather, it need only be spacious enough to fit your mistress, midlife crisis, and failing libido. Two-seater? Perfect. And plus, does your SUV really need to be a Turbo?

But with the recent SUV craze by every car company who doesn't need to build one(Lexus, BMW, Audi? Ugh.), I can't really blame Porsche for capitalizing on it as well. However, I can blame the people dumb enough to buy one. Although I'd like to think that after Porsche approved the plan to go forth with the Cayenne, they still fired the guy who proposed it, just out of sheer principle.

Sure, I could just as easily write about my hatred towards Hummer and the horrible H3, but at least they're not pulling any punches about what they are (gas-swallowing, accelerating boxes). To me, a Porsche SUV is blasphemous. If you want to drop that kind of dough on an SUV, buy a Yukon Denali or Cadillac Escalade. At least they look like an SUV should, and you're even buying American, you commie. Trust me, your friends at the country club are laughing at you behind your back. That, and also because your wife is sleeping with her tennis instructor.

*deep breath*

We're going to finish this post on a higher note, so instead of my ranting, let's have Laughing Colors do that for us. The song is called "War on Drugs," and has been widely mislabeled as "Sex, Drugs, and Rock & Roll" by Guns N Roses. Hence, the GNR images on the video. But the song itself is awful (full of awe). I just wish I had this song during middle school; it would have been my anthem! Such great lyrics...you should listen. Have a great night, everyone.

Tengo ampollas en mis dedos!

I see you've met Rodrigo y Gabriela. That amazing song was called "Diablo Rojo." I heard it while driving today, and it put me in quite the good mood as I blared it out the windows. So I figured I'd share it with you. ?Muy bien, no? The video is also pretty stunning, with some fun camera work and broken guitars, the latter of which always wins me over.

Iba a escribir todo de este blog en espanol, pero decidía que escribiria este párrafo solamente en espanol. No necesita traducir esto, porque no es importante en relacion del alto párrafo. Realmente, no necesita leerlo, pero si esta leyendo ahora, pues, lo siento.

Buenos noches, amigos.

Beware the Penguins

I'd like to talk to you tonight about something I feel very strongly about...something that could one day save your life...maybe even your children's. No, I'm not revealing a cure for cancer or my proposal to legalize hemp, or knocking on your monitor to tell you about the good word, but rather, warning you about a looming danger down south.

I speak...about the penguin: a hellbeast of Satan bent on world domination and the re-enslavement of the human race. Yes, re-enslavement, as in they've already enslaved us before. Oh sure, they're charming animals, but it's all an act. The flightless waddling? The charming tuxedo-like appearance? Their apparent lack of fear towards humans? All a facade to lower our fears while they slowly migrate further north until it's too late and they overrun our society. Don't believe me? Too cute to be true? I have proof...

Back in high school, me and some buddies were digging in my friend Rob's backyard for buried treasure. About three hours into it, we uncover a stone tablet. We carefully excavated it and saw that the tablet contained some weird markings and images. Some of the crudely drawn pictures showed penguins holding whips and what looked to be humans chained together in a line.

We didn't know what to do. We didn't expect to find anything, let alone something like this. So after apologizing to Rob's mom for tearing up her rose garden, we went to the university and asked the archeology department if they could help with deciphering the tablet. The head of the department told us to look up Dr. Jerry Chibauld, who worked in the zoology department and was known to have studied Penguinese.

Dr. Chibauld's eyes lit up when we took the tablet to him. He told us he could decipher it and would call us when he did. A week later, he told us to rush over to his office, as he had finished translating it and had uncovered something big.

What he told us changed our lives forever. It seems that many years ago, during the last Ice Age, penguins ruled the world. They had enslaved humanity and forced them to tend to their crops, build statues to their fallen leaders, and any other task they desired for their sadistic pleasure. But one day, six men rose up against them. These men, dubbed the Men Against Penguins, united the enslaved human population and overthrew their avian warlords. It was an epic battle, and this blog doesn't nearly have the budget to reenact it. But we won, and that's the important part.

As for the penguins, they were banished to Antarctica for their crimes against humanity, to stay there forever. However, the tablet ended with the penguins promising they would one day return to conquer the human race.

Well, the six of us realized we had a great responsibility. With the prevalence of pro-penguin progaganda in our society, we were worried their day was soon coming. So in Dr. Chibauld's office, we reformed the M.A.P. We've since gone our separate ways, but we remain ever vigilant, ready for the day when we lead humanity against the penguin threat yet again. One of my theories: penguins are responsible for global warming, or at least doing their part to help people and corporations continue polluting, as the melting of the ice caps will bring upon an Ice Age, an environment in which they'd easily conquer us. Just a thought.

Penguins also have many powerful friends and assets in our society. First, they've taken over Linux, so our technology is at risk. Second, they've brainwashed Morgan Freeman, and his soothing voice will calm the unwitting populace when the penguins begin to mount their armies. And third, their general cuteness makes my job that much harder to warn people, as who would believe that some cute, well-dressed bird wants to see you dead? Wait, are you laughing right now? You'll be one of the first to go.

Don't fall for their lies anymore. Join the M.A.P in our quest to tell people about penguins. Your life may depend on it.

Giving Back

I was thinking, while I'm doing the whole pizza jockey thing and looking for film jobs, it would be nice to have another source of income. Something to put away for a rainy day while helping my fellow man and making the world a better place. But what, you ask? I'll let the flier explain:


Once successful, we could start expanding, maybe even set up franchises around the country. Do you have the chops to tell the most vulnerable and emotionally frail people their dreams are worthless? You may have a job. Have your people call my people, and after my people tell your people they're worthless, yes-man sycophants, we'll do lunch.

"What I have shown you is reality. What you remember, that is the illusion."

Final Fantasy VII. This game changed the way I looked at video games. Sure, IV and VI were great games, as was Chrono Trigger (my favorite of these three), but VII was special.

I know I'm not saying anything new or original, as it seems VII is regarded as the best of the series, but I remember the first time I saw Sephiroth's face come up through the fire...

...it was late at night, I was spending the night at my friend's house, and the three of us were doing the usual late-night video game binge, when Cloud rushes out of the house in Nibelheim after Sephiroth goes kraZy, and sees the town on fire and Sephiroth killing everyone.

All the lights were off when Sephiroth's head rises up, and we freaked out (in the good way). That was the first time a video game ever elicited that kind of emotion, until later, when I almost cried at Aeris' death...at the hands of Sephiroth, no less.

I've been writing and deleting the following paragraphs for the last half hour, not knowing how to follow this up, and often sounding like a fanboy about my love of Sephiroth and FFVII in general. It was an amazingly deep game beyond what was just played, from Aeris' attitude to Cosmo Canyon to Jenova to the Lifesteam...enough, Greg! There's plenty of symbolism and mythology that would take far too long to write about...maybe another day. Until then, I may have to watch Advent Children tonight to get a FFVII fix.