Hey guys. I hope everyone had an enjoyable, Seacrest-free New Years. I just wanted to pop in and apologize for the dead air the past few days (and to thank Keith for livening up the joint with his review of Waltz Time, which was the Hammer Time of its day), and to update everyone on current events.
Mary and I went up to Portland the day after Christmas to spend some time with my sister and her husband, my two very cool nieces, and, most importantly, their dog, Bailey. I'd planned to blog while I was up there, but Bailey felt my laptop could be put to better use as an aluminum pillow.
Then I decided to borrow the car and go find a Starbucks where I might do some writing, since I hear the brand is finally making some tentative inroads into the Pacific Northwest, but you know how craftsy everyone is up there, and it turned out the roof of the car was busy hosting an installation of crystalline art...
...intended to evoke the feeling of Monsanto's "Adventure Thru Inner Space" ride at Disneyland, in which plucky tourists were shrunk to subatomic size and injected into a snowflake, to learn about physics and chemistry and why it's good to have just one strain of corporate-owned corn in the world, and how anybody who decorates their house with an ear of unauthorized speckled Indian maize at Thanksgiving is no better than a Somali pirate, and should be shot in the head by Navy SEALS. (Sorry for the Captain Phillips spoilers.) Anyway, even if we don't yet have shrinking technology, with the exception of warm water for woolens, and cold water for scrotums, I'm impressed how Monsanto correctly predicted that in the Twittering and texting world of the Future, "Through" will become a four-letter word.
But we're back home now, as you can tell by the weird vegetation...
...and the penis-shaped landmarks...
Unfortunately, thanks to a combination of travel-induced sciatica pain and dog drool on my keyboard, I'm way behind on this cheap little animated movie script I was hired to write, which absolutely positively has to be completed by the last week of January, so I beg you to bear with me, as posting may be erratic over the next few weeks.
Okay, more erratic. Don't rub it in.
18 comments:
Did you say erotic?
OK then!
Ice in Portland. In the late 70's I lived through some ice storms in Portland. Truck encased in ice outside the hospital. Streets so ice-covered, you could ice skate to downtown past the hookers encased in ice. One poor woman was killed by an ice covered branch that fell on her downtown. That's what happens in a city with lots of rain and occassional subzero temps.
"animated move script"? Is is a "My Little Pony" movie?
One poor woman was killed by an ice covered branch that fell on her downtown.
Is "downtown" another word for naughty parts, or slang for 'her head'?
Oh, Hi, Scott.
I thought Keith had done a Mutiny on the Bounty thing on you and was blogging from Pitcairn while you paddled despondently around the South Pacific.
Glad to know you are instead trying to earn an honest (snerk) living.Break several legs.
Suezboo
Oooooh..swirly
Maybe the weird vegetation can help you with that script?
~
Sadly, it's not a Day of the Triffids remake.
The idea of a cartoon Day of the Triffids is... uh..
Seriously, tho, Scott, take your time. We'll just sit here in the dark. Which you might occasionally lighten with a cat pic or so. They could even be old ones. You go have fun.
FoodFight 2?
Yes on the cat pics! With or without dialogue is fine with me.
Gappy
Capitol Records Penis still has a catheter sticking out of it, I see (spire on top).
And I apologize for visiting so infrequently! I'm a bad blog reader these days. You deserve better, Scott. Good luck with The Cuddles II: Revenge of Bubbly Von Hamperstamp!
Forgot to mention, Scott, that these are some very nice photocompositions.
Also, Dr, BDH, my favorite ice sport was taking my dog Wagner down to the frozen-over lagoon on the Rock River in Wisconsin, where I'd throw sticks out on the ice For Wagner to fetch and and this sixty or seventy pound White German Shepard/Rhodesian Ridgeback mix would run out on the ice, at first running in place as he scrambled madly onward, then finally gaining enough traction to make some headway.
Then, and this is part that had me in stitches, he'd finally get to where the stick lay, scoop it up in his teeth, and try to stop and turn around, which always resulted in him splaying his paws out and spinning around and around on down the ice for a few more yards. Whee!
I think marijuana may have been involved. Uh, me, not Wags.
Daww, Bailey is adorable.
Write like the wind, my friend. We'll be here when you return.
Also, Scott, since you just dinked the production on the internet, you'll be free to pitch "They Saved Nikola Tesla's Brain" around town.
I get a "From A Cocktail Napkin Doodle By" credit.
Also, Scott, since you just dinked the production on the internet, you'll be free to pitch "They Saved Nikola Tesla's Brain" around town.
I get a "From A Cocktail Napkin Doodle By" credit.
Have people send you cat pics that you can post
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