13 03 2008

Blah. I think I may have strep throat and I couldn’t think of a good title for this post so I thought I would write about something near and dear to me: procrasturbation. No, it’s not a synthesis of the two, it is merely the former, but in a definition sense, it is applicable to both. What is procrasturbation? It is wasting time and jagging off (not literally) to the thought of doing what one dares to dream without actually doing that.

Let me give you a little recap:

My writing partner (now former writing partner) and I had an idea and vowed to work our tails off on turning it into the world’s greatest spec screenplay. Months passed, we got good at outlining our idea and even when we hit some bumps in the road, we kept on chugging along. Over time, the project became increasingly difficult and when it came to writing the fucking thing, we were having “differences of opinion,” as I was too out of left field and my co-writer was, well, a pussy. After we had been hammering away for months, my co-writer just one day said “I am losing steam, you can have it.” This was a blessing in disguise as the idea was initially more mine than his, and I could tell for months that he was dreadfully unhappy just lacking the courage and necessary fortitude to tell me to my face that he was unhappy with decisions I had made. The day before he quit, I was talking to a friend about possibly buying him out and then BOOM, whaddya know, Deus ex Machina happens and he leaves the next day as I quite literally, got dumped.
If I sound bitter about this it is because I am and always will be, at least a little. My writing partner is a friend and colleague and he is back at it again with another partner. I wish him well, but I would be lying to you if I said I would be happy if he should succeed if I should not, or even before I should, or on an equal or greater level than myself. Part of me will always want to have written and sold the piece I am currently working on just to rub it in his face and one of the many things that buoys my spirits is the fact that my former writing partner has made every wrong decision a human being could make in one’s life. Of course, he still owns a percentage which we have agreed upon and I am more than happy to give it to him – in the event that it gets sold – as he did work very hard on our endeavor for about 6 months.
So here I am, with this massive project that I would say is about 55 pages of the way through its first draft. I have tons of notes, know where I want to go with it, have made incredibly large changes to the first act and thus, the entire nature of the project has shifted. But here I sit, with my computer, my Bossa Salad (3rd time this week) and a glass of wine, wondering how to get my ass off the pine and how to start just plugging away.
I am a perseverant person (and before you go quoting Ambrose Bierce and tell me how that is the quality of mediocre men) and I am a vengeful person — much like Eminem. I work at a job where I am not respected – sometimes for good reason – and aside from this project, I suffer from a lack of purpose. I can’t foresee myself working the same job in a year’s time, and I just surprised myself by remembering that today marks my one year anniversary of being in my current employ. I really lack the skills necessary to slog through the industry I am in, I know what I want to do, and know that I have the natural ability to do it, so fucking help me Readers! You know my email, AIM, phone number. Get all Bobby Knight on me and force me into action. Make me my own bitch and I promise you I will revel in your tough love. Help me…help myself, because if there’s one thing in this world I am good at, it is pointing out other people’s problems and telling them how to solve them; when it comes to myself, well I just suck.

If you listen to the band Paramore, kill yourself. Quit pretending you care that Patrick Swayze is dying, no one has mentioned his name in more than 10 years and the only person I know who has, told me a story about how C. Thomas Howell was doing a Q&A after a screening of a movie in which he costarred with the Swayze and Howell was hammered and just kept talking about how the Swayze was the biggest dbag on the planet. BSfuckingG comes back in less than a month and season 3 comes out on DVD in less than a week, in addition, March Madness is starting so please disregard everything I said today and get back to me in April. St. Patty’s Day is coming up so I feel I must tell you a couple of my father’s favorite jokes: “What’s the difference between an Irish wedding and an Irish funeral? Answer: one less drunk.” “What are the two shortest books ever written? Answer: ‘Who’s who in Ireland,’ and ‘Italian war heroes.'” The website is glorious. I bought 5 boxes of THIN MINTS girl scout cookies today. They are the most glorious food on the planet and I don’t know why those dumb little bitches don’t sell those things all year round. Do they worry about over-saturating the market? Do they think that the cost/benefit ratio would not ensure that young girls will grow up learning proper blowjob technique? Do they think those dingleberries from the cotillions will try and steal some of their recipes and come out with a similar product? I just don’t get it. I want thin mints all year round GODDAMNIT!!! If you stop by the Scientology booth at Hollywood and Las Palmas, just to even inquire…kill yourself. Black people must stop naming their children ridiculous things. Stop putting latin prefixes ex, le, de, la, da, ma, in front of normal names, this is not a musical scale, this is a word you will have to utter for the rest of your life that your child will have to live with so make it count. If anything, this is the #3 reason why Kobe and LeBron will never be as beloved or revered as Michael. Stop pretending that we care about the environment. I am just waiting for a scientist to invent something which, RESTORES OZONE. If you just woke up and now drive a hybrid, eat organic, and generally think your shit stinks less than mine because I take long showers, don’t recycle, smoke, use aerosol products, throw away plastic water bottles after I drink from them ONCE, would fly a private jet if I could afford it, and generally don’t give a shit about what happens cuz I have a plan, then you are delusional. Can’t squeeze the toothpaste back into the tube. Either you can realize that what has happened was avoidable and now irreversible, or you can rack yourself with guilt. Here’s what I am going to do: Find a mountain range in the middle of Northern Canada, learn how to fire a gun, learn some serious self-defense, keep a GAS-POWERED CAR, buy medical supplies and MREs in bulk, and me and mine will survive. If you like, I will help nail you to your cross while you wait for the biblical flood which will have come 12,000 years too late.





Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: