That's what I call turnaround

That's what I call turnaround

I ordered a crazy comic TPB called Popbot written by Sam Keith, the guy who did The Maxx from IDW Publishing, the guys who put out 30 Days of Night. I just paid the standard priority mail fee for shipping and got the notice yesterday that my order had shipped. It was literally at my doorstep when I got home after work today. Hells yeah, said I, that's what I call a turnaround.

Also, anyone catch Bush get his ass kicked during the election debate tonight? It was glorious. Hell, I might even vote for Kerry after hearing him take out the trash. Anyone else catch it?

D

A bit of a lull

A bit of a lull

Man, I really have nothing interesting to say. I'm back at the day job, so to speak, and having working on a movie--even just a short--set again I've realized how dull TV work is. Here's the process: shoot the master shot (the wide angle to establish the spatial relationship between everyone in the room); then go in for coverage (get the two shot, get the close-up, turn around, get the two shot, get the close-up); move on and do it again. Unfortunately, it's the job that keeps me in house and home and food and comics and movies, so I've got to tough it out at least until the end of this movie. Gotta start calling up my contacts soon. Will go insane.

D

Girls, cowboys and dust in every orifice

Girls, cowboys and dust in every orifice

What a great week I just had. Me, a group of great cowboys, and girls who were divying up cowmen worse than the guys were talking about them. And the beer. Good lord. The beer flowed like...well, beer around cowboys. It's a poor metaphor (in fact it's just a statement), true, but I'm still recovering from the shoot two days later.

I'll give you some of the bullet points:

I got hanged by my neck until dead. They grabbed me to be one of the two guys the baddies hang while dividing up their money.

After every work day, I would have to drive to the store to pick up three 24 packs of Coors Light. One night I had to make the run twice.

For one of the takes, I saw two guys get yanked by cables twenty feet in the air while a fake mortar blew up at their feet.

During the wrap party one of the girls drove off with one of the cowboys, leaving the fiesta and coming back claiming nothing had happened. The look on the guy's face told a different story.

Another one of the girls went off with another of the cowboys and did the deed on one of the carriages. I stayed the night at the ranch in the office in the tackhouse, but I was asleep when it happened. The next day, Clint's grandmother asked if I'd gone home the night before. I told her no, then she mentioned that she heard me last night because her bedroom was only twenty yards away. At first I thought she was talking about my belting out some Johnny Cash with the guys, but when I saw her smile, wink and tell me that she thought it was perfectly natural to have fun while I was young, I realized my mistake. It was pointless to correct her and, she looked so proud of me.

There are more stories, but I've got to run some errands. This computer also costs $12 to use for an hour. So peace out. Hopefully I'll get my Internet soon.

D