Wednesday, July 20, 2005

My Nubian Goddess



This is my woman Pam Grier. Granted I hadn't heard about her until, Jackie Brown. After that I rented Foxy Brown and Coffy. They are two blaxploitation movies from the 70's. They are cool and Pam Grier kicks ass. Several people may not believe what I believe, but I don't care. You may say, "Well she's like 50 something now." I will always see her as that 70's cool chick. Love you Pam Grier. You rock.

The Baddest One-Chick Hit-Squad that ever hit town!

Oh and she has natural boobs. So that's always nice.

Monday, July 18, 2005

All hell's broken loose...

...and there's a fire under my ass. My dear friend wrote an inspirational blog post about me being a procrastinator. It is a very weird time in my life right now, but nobody really knows it. I think I may be pregnant. HA. No seriously, I have been thinking lately about what I am doing with my life. NOTHING.

I dream up stories and then write them into scripts. THAT'S IT! I don't go any further than that. I almost finished a short movie once. Is that going to be my lifes acheivement. How I almost made a movie. I was so excited by the thought of directing my movie and seeing it done, that that's all I could think about for weeks. Then shit started happening and the movie fell apart. Scheduling and all that crap. So I sit and I wait to make another one.

I wrote my first script in 1995/96. It's called Thicker Than Blood. My intention was to make that my first movie, but I had nobody that could act. Plus making a 2 hour movie cost money. The special effects were going to be another problem. Nothing big just bullet wounds and gun shots. I was so jazzed when I actually finished the script. Yet, I did nothing with it. "Oh I'll rewrite it and make it better.", that's what I kept telling myself. NEVER.

After Thicker than Blood, I wrote half of the sequel, "Dead man's party". While writing that, I realized that it was useless because I was never going to make Thicker than Blood, much less the sequel. It was planned as a trilogy. The final one was to be called, "Chinito Bandito".

Shortly after that I was trying to figure out what else to write about. That's when a couple of things that I had been thinking of writing, came together into one story idea. It was called, "No Honor Among Thieves" It would be my hardest to write and the best one so far. I was afraid of it though, it was going to be too big, and it jumped around in the time of events. One day at the video store, I was explaining the entire script to a customer who was a friend of mine. I started at the beginning and went all the way to the end credits. When I was done she told me that she had gotten goosebumps from the story. She told me to write it. I was touched by the reaction and began working on the script the next day. It went fast. I had read an interview with Quentin Tarantino once where he was asked why he had Mr. Blonde cut the cops ear off. He told the interviewer that he didn't know that Mr. Blonde was going to do that until he pulled the razor out of his boot. He said that when two characters, that he's writing about, are talking in a room that he just listens and writes down what they say. I read that and thought that it sounded crazy until I started writing this script. They spoke to eachother and I could barely keep up. It was great. I finished that and loved it, but of course did nothing with it. Right after I was done, 9/11 happened and I thought that no one would want to see a movie about the hijacking of a plane. The night that I had finished writing it, I emailed it to a friend of mine so that he could print it up. It was a good thing that I did because the next day my car had been stolen. My laptop and original script was inside. My question has always been, "I wonder if these car theives sent the script in and someday I'll maybe see a commercial for it?" That would be funny cruel.

After finishing that I was searching for something to write. I couldn't think of an idea that was as good to me as No Honor Among Theives. One day my friend Serjio and I decide to make a short film. I write the script in one night, and it's called Deja Vu. I start actually reading actors for the parts. The guy that I chose to be the bad guy all of a sudden disappears. Nobody knows where he went. We all figure that he went back to California. I had some complex camera angles and we figured that I should write something simpler. So that was the end of that.

Then I start writing a script from an idea that I had when I turned 19 or 20. It had evolved by then with the help of my friend Casey. It would be 4 different stories and could be done by 4 different directors. Me, Serjio, Ceasar, and maybe Joe. I would write the entire script. I wrote 76 pages of it, but when one of the actors wasn't returning my calls, I stopped writing it. I really wanted to make a movie so bad.

Finally I realized that I needed to do something that didn't have alot of actors in it, and wasn't that difficult to shoot. I took an existing idea that I had had already, called "God Is Dead" and changed to "Heresy". It would be about a man who's wife leaves him and he loses faith in GOD. It would be one guy on a cell phone. 1 actor, no problem. Then as I was writing it, the wife was there and she was in the flashbacks. I tried to use my friend Colleen, but she was a cross between William Shatner and Keanu Reeves. One day my friend tells me to call Stephanie, a friend of ours. I did, and she was awesome. We had 1 more day to film, maybe 2, and then she gets busy looking for work. That combined with everybodies schedules, the movie stopped.

I am still trying to finish the rest of the 76 page script called, "Caused an Effect". Serjio and I are still trying to put the footage that we shot together, to see if it looks any good. If so then maybe we'll continue to film the movie. I have rewritten the ending and the wife isn't there. I had written a script for Serjio from a story of his, but we are waiting to see what we are going to do.

I am always trying to come up with new ideas for scripts. I have 3 right now.

I can't say too much, because this is the internet you know.

1, is about a mob guy in Kentucky.

2, is about a bounty hunter who's wife was killed and blah blah blah. It's kind of open right now.

3, is about my fucked up childhood. It seems that everyone wants me to work on this one next.

This isn't counting the idea I have for a remake of a classic John Barrymore movie, with Drew Barrymore in the lead.

As is heard through Hollywood, "I just want to Direct."

That's me in nutshell. Thought you all might be interested. The fire has been set and I am going to fine tune No Honor Among Theives, because that is my best one.

"Don't dream it. Be it."-----The Rocky Horror Picture Show

Saturday, July 16, 2005

And the horse you rode in on.



People piss me off. I can't stand ignorant people. I can't stand save asses or kiss asses.

I want to shit on all the ritzy cars that rich people care so much about.

I want to kick in the teeth of a jock douchebag that's with his head chearleader girlfriend.

Some people don't even see the world around them. They are walking around with blinders on. They are into their own thing and can't be bothered with anything else.

Then there's brig and her fucking retarded squirrel like troll of a husband. They are into their metaphysics, quantum physics, crop circle, Temple 1, crack in texas, electrical energy, ghostly apparition, dimension tear that is their life. They are scared and think that we should be too.

He tells her that they will move here and that he doesn't want to live in New Orleans forever. That is bunch of steamy crap right there. If he wanted to move so bad, he would have done it already. He says that he is depressed and has been for awhile. What an excuse. Fucking fuck fuck. They piss me off sooooooooooo much. You can't just have a conversation with her because she gets serious or you can't be yourself.

I have stated all this before and everyone is tired of hearing it, so I am done.

I hope that the children will be okay and that Brig and the retarded squirell fuck of a husband have a wonderful life. Like I've also said before, people change and that's all there is to it. So fuck them and their crystal reading, Myan calendar searching, Windian ways of living their fucked up life.

I would like them to.....

lick my shitty ass clean,

hug a thorny cactus,

chant to another god that doesn't exist,

continue talking down the EVIL white man because I'm sure that your own race did nothing for you, so by all means trash it.

The people that this is about will never read this. It is because of them that I am in hiding.

For the rest of you, I am sorry that you had to be subjected to my tirade.

Have a good day everyone.

Blow me pompous asses.

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

You can't change History



At work most of the night, all I could think about was how ridiculous my friend Brig and her husband are. I couldn't wait for the day to be over so that I could come here and write something back to her.

She is a white woman, who wants very badly to be a native american.

She lives in the United States and bitches about what our forefathers did to the indians.

She bitches about the Brits, yet if we hadn't left there we would be Brits ourselves.

It's a sad thing that Indians died in the early years of this country, but it happened. We can't change history.

If we could, then we could go back and tell Hitler to double up on his artwork. Maybe then he would have followed his passion and not become an evil tyrant.

We could also have talked J.F.K. into driving through Dallas in a bulletproof car.

And also maybe not give funding to Columbus to start an expedition to see if the world is round. He would have then never set foot in South America, thinking he was in India, and never called the people that lived here, "Indians".

In turn never bringing the rest of Europe and Britain here. We then wouldn't have gotten mad about the taxes that England made us pay. Which in turn would make us rebel from the Brits, and have a revolution. With that done and our great United States of America established, we would have never wanted more land and went out and killed the indians. We would have been none the wiser, and sat on our porch drinking tea in ENGLAND.

I hate that people that are not happy with who they are, search for some other identity. Hell, I'd like to be Superman but that aint gonna happen. I know who I am.

Growing up, you would see that one white guy that wanted to be black. He would listen to rap music, wear his close baggy, and talk in black slang. We call them Wiggers. Well I call Brig and her husband Windians.

No matter what they do they can't change the fact that one of their ancestors probably killed an indian or two.

FUCK! I am feeling so angry and I can't write cohesively what I want to say.

Here it is:

You are white, what the fuck are talking about. Indians died, yes we know that. I don't know what you hope to accomplish by letting it be known that you don't belive in the murder of the indian people? I hate that MILLIONS of jews died in the Holocaust, but that doesn't change the fact that they died. Should I then start writing blogs about the oppressed jews and telling everyone to read about the holocaust? I didn't think so. Some may say, well Phil it is their blog and they can do with it what they want. Yes this is true, but they have gotten out of control. I mean all they talk about is the evil white man and the poor indians. I believe that the fact is that people change. Brig has and I need to accept it. She is lost to us. We can talk about the old times, but never the new stuff. In the same way that I don't want to hear another history lesson about the way a president stood on the dead bodies of indians to get where he was, I know that she doesn't want to hear my stories of boring, pointless shit that happens to me that I think is interesting or funny. I can't be who I am around her, because she has changed and doesn't find it funny. I guess it is a good thing that we don't live in the same state.

As for the pregnancy......

What the fuck are you thinking about that? We have two dirty children as it is. LET'S HAVE ANOTHER BABY.

We can barely afford to live here, let's buy a 2000 dollar laptop, and HAVE ANOTHER BABY.

We want to move out of New Orleans because it's dangerous for us and the kids, LET'S HAVE ANOTHER BABY.

They are happy, which makes sense because it's usually always a good thing when someone is pregnant, but not for them. More power to them if they want to have another baby to breast feed for almost 2 years. Yes, you read that right, 2 YEARS. The kids will be homeschooled, that is scary. They will learn from the internet, like dear old mom. They will be exposed to everything. They will learn 45 different religious values and beliefs. They will not be able to carry on a social conversation, because they will not know how to act around other people. They will be Windian hippy children. God save the children!

If I had a magic wand, I would be tempted to do NOTHING. It would be interesting to watch, as is Brig's life. I think that I would do, what I am GOING to do.............

Call CPS.......

No, watch the wacky Windians.

Say that 5 times fast.


And I just barely touched on all the things in my head.

Friday, July 08, 2005

Home alone, on my day off



First of all, my day went okay today. Actually pretty damn good. The air was off here at my friends house and I thought that it was a bigger problem than it was. Flip the breaker, that's all I had to do. Well last night after writing on my blog, I received a call from a friend of mine saying, "They hit London."

Kind of funny that you know what someone means when they say, "THEY" hit London. Although who are we to assume. I could go on about my conspiracy theory and all, but I won't. I am not going to do like I did yesterday, and list every single thing that I did.

Wacky, weird, sweet, deranged, mentally ill Phil is back. Uh oh, I just wrote my name. I wonder if Witness Relocation would be okay with that. Let me check the manual..............Mrs. H's dog ate the fucking manual.


I'll just have to hope that it's okay that I mentioned my real name. I may have choked the dog too much. She's not moving. Oh well they won't notice, she just lays around anyway. Speaking of killing animals, I just saved one. It was a little mouse, and he was caught in the bathtub in the guest bathroom here at Mrs. H's house. I was going to kill it at first, but then I couldn't think of what to use. Then I thought well I shouldn't really kill it because it may have some kind of dirty virus that would float through the air and kill everyone. I then decided to try to wrangle it into a box and set it free outside by the sewer. Although, I had to take my dad to get the tire for his car so I waited until I got back. I put a little cheese in the tub with him and left. I was thinking of running him a bath, but there were no towels small enough for him.

When I got back I finally fixed the air, after talking to Mrs. H and finding the breaker box. I then couldn't get it to flip like a breaker normally does. Then finally I pushed it a little harder and it flipped. I now had air. The second thing to do was get the mouse out of the house. How do you suppose to dispose of the mouse in the house, with an empty box of sox I disclose.


I put another piece of cheese in the box and then went to wranglin. I got him in the box and quickly closed it up. I then carried it out the front door, as if it were an explosive device. I didn't want it to crawl out and up my arm. That would have made me scream like a girl. I am okay with pet mice, but wild mice you never know. I put the box down at the end of the drive in the street, and he/she ran across the street to the neighbors. I think he waved, but I'm not sure.

Something interesting about the mouse. He was wearing my exact outfit.

The offensive people that shall remain nameless on this blog, said that it is Karma. She said that I wrote about drowning a cat in a tub, and now I was saving a mouse in a tub. HHHHHHHHHHMMMMMMMMMMM.

What does it all mean?

Where did he get the little Adidas shoes?

Kicking back at Mrs. H's house earlier today was pretty nice. I slept for a while, watched the news, slept while watching the news, and then I went swimming. I had envisioned me kicking back in or by the pool with a drink in my hand. What I got was me getting in where no bugs or leaves were, and then taking all those things out of the pool. Or at least trying to. Frustrated with that I layed out in the sun. Trying to get a tan, I ended up turning red. I then came inside. What a mess. Then I went in the house and went to sleep again.

I woke up and played foosball with Jimmy. I won 20 to 0. I don't think he even knows how to play. Jimmy's my imaginary friend who just got back from Iraq. He lost a pinky over there. He blamed his losing the game, on that. I gave him a tissue and some Midol. Because he's a whiney bitch. We got in an argument and we are no longer friends.

That's when I went to help my father with the tire on his car. He then took me out to eat. Spaghetti and coffee, I felt like a real Italian/Columbian. I then got in an argument with myself about what I was charging myself for cocaine. The Columbian side of me grabbed a knife and tried to give the Italian me a Columbian necktie. That's when my dad stepped in and broke it up.

After dropping my dad off, I went to meet with my boss. Dad and I never got the tire fixed so I have to help him tomorrow.

I met my boss at the Embassy Suites. He pulled up by the front entrance and I joined him. We stood by his truck and discussed the upcoming week's schedule. He said that I needed to work it like a Rubik's Cube, which is what he always says. I'm so tired of hearing it. Then he asked me if I was communicating with the other supervisor. I informed him that I was. That's when he said, "You need to communicate." He always says that, and he always treats me as if I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I just nodded and wrote things down on my legal pad. Then looking over my shoulder at the paper he says, "Don't forget, it's like a rubik's cube and if you communicate with the other supervisor, you should be able to make it work." That was it. I spun around and drove the pen into his chest. He screamed and looked at me with a blank expression on his face. I pulled the pen out, and told him that this conversation was over. He was holding his chest and looking at me as if he was going to make a move. I turned to face him completely, still holding the bloody pen in my hand. I said, "Is there a problem?" He shook his head no. I started to walk away, and he headed to the cab of his truck. I then ran up to him and said, "I could use 20 dollars for gas." He shit himself a little, and then gave me the money as he sheepishly got into the cab of his truck. I was very happy.

When I got back to Mrs. H's house, it had been TP'd. I knew who had done it. It was Jimmy Whineypuss, my EX-imaginary friend. I cleaned it up and went inside to deal with the AC and the mouse in the tub.

And here I said that I wasn't going to go into every single thing.

For those of you who are worried about my boss, or my mental stability. All I have to say is....................

YOU WANT SOME OF THIS?

Have a glorious day everyone. Wait a minute, I just turned my emotions completely around, am I a serial killer.


Could be.

Thursday, July 07, 2005

This is who I am.......I guess.

I'm too sexy for my strips of cloth.
Revenge killer

You kill for
revenge.

That is because you have lost something or
someone you held very dear. Now you can't seem
to get over the loss that marked your soul, and
the only solution is to go after the one person
who brought all this pain to you. Chances are
you are angry inside and you bottle everything
up and don't talk to anyone about it. People
may want to help, but you think that they can
never understand your pain and only get
frustrated because of this. But it is important
to see all that you have left and be thankful
of that even if you have lost something great.
It may not be true that Times heals all wounds,
but with time and talking about your feelings,
maybe the hurt will ease.

Main weapon: Yourself
Quote: "You can close your eyes to
reality but not to memories" -Stainslaw J.
Lec
Facial expression: Gritted teeth and
teary eyes




What Type of Killer Are You? [cool pictures]
brought to you by Quizilla

Holy Crap!



There are several different things that I am going to talk about on this post. My job, religion, my days off, the Cricket cell phone store, my father, the owners of my company, and Zia record exchange.

MY JOB: The other day at work they wanted me to relearn an old post. I had done it a year and a half ago, but some things have changed. I started on Monday at another post, watching a church. The religion thing will come in later. Anyway I worked from 930 at until 1130 and then I went to meet with the other supervisor so that he could show me around. All went well, except that I'm not sure if I'm going to remember all of the buttons that I need to hit. They show where I was at what time. The reason why I have to relearn this post is because the other supervisor received a DUI and will have his license suspended for a month. Therefore, I have to work on the driving post while he does the walking patrols that I usually do. Not a BIG deal, but I liked it the way it was. I had just recently arranged my schedule so that I could work 3 days and have 4 days off. Now I will work 4 days and have 3 days off. I know that that's not to shabby, but not as good as it was. So now I am kind of nervous about working this patrol starting on Saturday. I'm sure that it will be fine.

RELIGION: Then before I went to retrain at the patrol job, I went into the church that I was watching. Nobody was in there. I turned on the lights, and went to the balcony. I sat in the very center, and I waited for some sign of devine intervention. Nothing happened. I figured as much.

MY DAYS OFF: It was Mrs. H's birthday on the 5th, and also my first day off. She's one lady who really knows how to take care of herself. We went bowling with other friends and had a wonderful time. Her and I then stayed up and watched a show called, "The boy whos skin fell off." I know it sounds hilarious, but it was a documentary about his boy whos skin keeps falling off. Just when you would think that nothing else horrible could happen to this guy, he gets cancer and has 1 year to live. The show bookended with his death. It was a wonderful way to end a very happy day. Our lives aren't as bad by comparison. Today I came here to Mrs. H's and let the dogs out. Tomorrow I will go swimming, and try to enjoy the rest of my days off before I go to work at this new post.

THE CRICKET CELL PHONE STORE: Before I had went to let Mrs. H's dogs out, I received a call from my cousin. He asked if I would go with him to get his new cell phone from Cricket. I had a paper that one of the workers had given me and said that if I recommended a new person and they signed up, then I would get a free month of service and the new person would get free activation. I went with him and gave him the paper. After waiting in line for what seemed like an hour, the lady told us that that paper was for new customers only. Meaning that he could give it to somebody else and work the deal with them, because they would both be new. I could not because I was an older customer. I informed her that she needed to get her people on the same page then because that's what a Cricket employee told me. After signing my cousin up, she took 10 dollars off my bill. I thanked her for that.

MY FATHER: On the way to Mrs. H's my dad called me and said that he needed a ride because his car had a flat tire. I told him that I would help after letting the dogs out at Mrs. H's. I then went to help him and wasted about 45 minutes for him to transfer stuff from his car to mine, because he was afraid that it might get stolen. I then took him home, as he critisized my driving, and went on my way. I have to go pick him up tomorrow, get the tire fixed, and take him back to his car. Here I thought that I was going to have some nice days off.

THE OWNERS OF MY COMPANY: On the way back to Mrs. H's I received a call from the other supervisor of my company. He informed me that the owners want to meet with me tomorrow to go over some schedules or some shit. GREAT :(

AND ZIA RECORD EXCHANGE: After getting off the phone I thought that I would stop at Zia's and then get something to eat. My mission was to get some new music, but of course me being me, I got 4 DVDs and 1 CD. The DVDs were priced very well, and there were alot. I bought, The Best Years Of Our Lives, Foxy Brown, Ghostbusters, and The Green Berets. The CD that I bought is from a band called, "No fall out man" or something like that. Anyway it sounded cool at the listening station. I then went to Wendy's picked up some food and headed to Mrs. H's.

I am here now, and I have to go to bed and get up to deal with my dad and the tire. Then the owners, where ever they decide to meet me. Afterwards I will hopefully be able to go swimming and relax. Hopefully my weekend isn't totally fucked.

Sorry that this is so long, I don't even know if I'll post it.

Saturday, July 02, 2005

It was a good day today



I would like to think that my life is like a series of movies. The end of my days off this week, would signify the end of one of these movies. It was a happy ending.

I slept well, saw 3 different signs of love and affection from 3 different couples, and laughed with my friend. It was a good day also because it is another day. I am not as mad as I was yesterday. I also spoke with the theiving supervisor and he said that he IS partially to blame. Whether I forgot if he told me he needed my guy or not.

I will be working for the next three days and I will not be able to write. I am sure that you are all happy about that. Others may say that it's about time. They may say, "You don't HAVE to write a new post every day." I know, but I enjoy making people laugh or whatever. Well I'm off to go home and enjoy the rest of my night off.

For those of you out there who may be in a funk. I leave you with this.................

Live every day as if it's your last.
Everything is beautiful if you open your eyes.
Someone died while you were reading this, and it wasn't you. (Hopefully)
Be greatful for what you have, and retrospectful of things you've lost. (Spike)
Another man's junk, is another man's treasure.

I hope that may of helped anyone who is down. If you are having a good day then maybe that just made it better.

I'm not just here to make people laugh, I'm also here to help.

I love everyone, except those who will remain nameless.

For those nameless few, SUCK IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!