LETTERS FROM CAMP LOS ANGELES
Dear Mom and Dad (MaMa and PoPo),
First of all, I'm sorry I haven't written you in awhile. I guess Camp Los Angeles is so much fun that I forgot about letting you know how I'm doing. I''ll make sure to write more in the future. I promise. (Especially when we get internet services set up in our cabin tomorrow)
As for the the cabin, it's pretty cool. It took some time for us to find one (apparently the counselors at Camp Los Angeles don't provide you with one beforehand), but it's got new carpeting and a nice view.
Now that a living space is taken care of, it's time to look for work. That's a camp policy. To live on the grounds, you must earn a living. I hear there's a temp agency that provides work. Whatever. Pays the bills, y'know.
Well, I better get going. There's a killer on the loose and I'm getting very scared. What? I hear someone behind me. I hear their footsteps and ---
Love,
Paul
P.S. I caught a walleye and Billy Maguver split his pants at the campfire!
Monday, August 30, 2004
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
Hand in those applictions and shake those landlord's hands. You're lookin' for an apartment, brother.
Adam and I just got done doing such activities in hopes of securing our first apartment in Shiney-Time City, California. In the meantime, we've been staying at our friend Neil's - who is very gracious and caring in his hospitality.
Rumor has it (according to Access Hollywood) that we may know if we'll have our apartment... by the end of the day! With luck, our phone will ring as the sun sets slowly in the west. Or 9pm at the very least.
To ease your worries, I think we got a good shot. And do you know what potentially "sealed the deal?" The landlord's from Nebraska. Nebraska! Adam and I are from western Iowa! It's like we're practically brothers... brothers who visit each other on the holidays! And at funerals!
Have you called your relatives lately? Pick up that phone. I'm sure they miss you.
Adam and I just got done doing such activities in hopes of securing our first apartment in Shiney-Time City, California. In the meantime, we've been staying at our friend Neil's - who is very gracious and caring in his hospitality.
Rumor has it (according to Access Hollywood) that we may know if we'll have our apartment... by the end of the day! With luck, our phone will ring as the sun sets slowly in the west. Or 9pm at the very least.
To ease your worries, I think we got a good shot. And do you know what potentially "sealed the deal?" The landlord's from Nebraska. Nebraska! Adam and I are from western Iowa! It's like we're practically brothers... brothers who visit each other on the holidays! And at funerals!
Have you called your relatives lately? Pick up that phone. I'm sure they miss you.
Monday, August 23, 2004
Friday, August 20, 2004
God bless all those who began kindergarten in 1987.
For them... every four years... all the major events happen: the olympics, presidential elections, and new beginnings.
Like me!
1992:
Olympics - "Dan VS. Dave" fever sweeps the nation. Reebok later murders both.
Elections - Clinton beats Bush. Reebok plans both of their assasinations.
Me - I enter "JUNIOR HIGH" - in addition to the slow, hellish descent that is puberty.
1996:
Olympics - Girls' gymnastic team captures America's attention... and attention!
Elections - Bob Dole enters oval office - to hide behind a couch and weep at what might have been.
Me - "HIGH SCHOOL" kicks in gear. Four years of cuttin' class and grabbin' ass!
2000:
Olympics - Mad scientist controls results of all events. No one notices.
Elections - Bush (Republican Party) beats Al Gore (Republican Party II).
Me - "COLLEGE" is here. I run for student government and beat Bob Dole and a mad scientist - whose main platform is "Change the Olympics, Change the World" (I forget what the mad scientist's platform was though).
2004:
Olympics - In effect, y'all!
Elections - Entertainment Tonight says Ben Affleck is a Democrat!
Me - Today, on August 20th, I head west to Los Angeles, California. Puberty is officially complete (although I anticipate my pubic hair to begin growing at any moment)
Your Friend,
Paul
For them... every four years... all the major events happen: the olympics, presidential elections, and new beginnings.
Like me!
1992:
Olympics - "Dan VS. Dave" fever sweeps the nation. Reebok later murders both.
Elections - Clinton beats Bush. Reebok plans both of their assasinations.
Me - I enter "JUNIOR HIGH" - in addition to the slow, hellish descent that is puberty.
1996:
Olympics - Girls' gymnastic team captures America's attention... and attention!
Elections - Bob Dole enters oval office - to hide behind a couch and weep at what might have been.
Me - "HIGH SCHOOL" kicks in gear. Four years of cuttin' class and grabbin' ass!
2000:
Olympics - Mad scientist controls results of all events. No one notices.
Elections - Bush (Republican Party) beats Al Gore (Republican Party II).
Me - "COLLEGE" is here. I run for student government and beat Bob Dole and a mad scientist - whose main platform is "Change the Olympics, Change the World" (I forget what the mad scientist's platform was though).
2004:
Olympics - In effect, y'all!
Elections - Entertainment Tonight says Ben Affleck is a Democrat!
Me - Today, on August 20th, I head west to Los Angeles, California. Puberty is officially complete (although I anticipate my pubic hair to begin growing at any moment)
Your Friend,
Paul
Thursday, August 19, 2004
Why do we listen to Paul Harvey?
This isn't a judgement hidden in a rhetorical question. I am legitimately asking: What is the main reason we listen to Paul Harvey?
Answer: To hear him say, "And now you know... the rest of the story" at the end of his segments. Obviously.
That's why we sit through a seemingly endless anecdote about an Olympic horse-starver when we could be listening to Britney Spears' "Toxic" instead.
"And now you know... the rest of the story" is the sweet-turkey-gravy payoff for eating your hydrated-level-4 pizza. Is it ready?!!!
So, imagine my disappointment as I drive to Altoona, Iowa to visit a friend, listening to Paul Harvey on the radio, and I hear:
"And now you know... the rest ---"
OBNOXIOUS AUTO DEALERSHIP AD INTERRUPTS!!!
I was miffed. Perturbed, some might say.
Regardless...
Now you know... the rest of the ---
FART!!!
This isn't a judgement hidden in a rhetorical question. I am legitimately asking: What is the main reason we listen to Paul Harvey?
Answer: To hear him say, "And now you know... the rest of the story" at the end of his segments. Obviously.
That's why we sit through a seemingly endless anecdote about an Olympic horse-starver when we could be listening to Britney Spears' "Toxic" instead.
"And now you know... the rest of the story" is the sweet-turkey-gravy payoff for eating your hydrated-level-4 pizza. Is it ready?!!!
So, imagine my disappointment as I drive to Altoona, Iowa to visit a friend, listening to Paul Harvey on the radio, and I hear:
"And now you know... the rest ---"
OBNOXIOUS AUTO DEALERSHIP AD INTERRUPTS!!!
I was miffed. Perturbed, some might say.
Regardless...
Now you know... the rest of the ---
FART!!!
Monday, August 16, 2004
THE SHIT I FIND (AS I CLEAN MY BEDROOM): A Paul Rust Tell-All
In the top drawer of my bedroom dresser, I found one Ziploc bag filled with human hair. This was two minutes after I unearthed a folded, brown paper bag which also contained human hair.
What's going on?
This, mind you, all happened as I talked to my sister Amy on the phone. She thought it was... yes, gross and weird. Later, she informed me the hair probably had bugs in it. Gouche.
On a sidenote... my sister Amy just completed teaching her "Bloody Shots, Reeling Spectators: America’s Violent Cinema" course at Berkeley. And guess what? At the completion of the final class, her students all applauded her. They liked the class that much. I've never been in a college course where the students all cheered for the teacher.
So, yeah... my sister got applause for teaching a class about the history of film violence.
My sister is cooler than your sister.
In the top drawer of my bedroom dresser, I found one Ziploc bag filled with human hair. This was two minutes after I unearthed a folded, brown paper bag which also contained human hair.
What's going on?
This, mind you, all happened as I talked to my sister Amy on the phone. She thought it was... yes, gross and weird. Later, she informed me the hair probably had bugs in it. Gouche.
On a sidenote... my sister Amy just completed teaching her "Bloody Shots, Reeling Spectators: America’s Violent Cinema" course at Berkeley. And guess what? At the completion of the final class, her students all applauded her. They liked the class that much. I've never been in a college course where the students all cheered for the teacher.
So, yeah... my sister got applause for teaching a class about the history of film violence.
My sister is cooler than your sister.
Friday, August 13, 2004
Friday the 13th was today and although Jason Voorhies didn't punch off my head from the top of a Manhattan skyscraper, various other forms of bad luck abounded.
Cases. In. Point.
ONE:
Twenty minutes into Collateral, a woman and her mother enter the theatre. My friends and I are chillin' in the front row and just as Tom "Silver Fox" Cruise is leaving for his first hit, the mother trips and falls right in front of us.
Her daughter runs to her help. Jake and Rick lean over to assist. Apparently, on her way down, the mother smacked her face onto Jake's kneecap. She's not getting up. And when she tries, she's in too much pain and falls over again.
Fortunately, she recovers. Her daughter gets her some ice for her eye. And although it is unknown exactly how she tripped (something about a railing?), all is well by Silver Fox's second hit.
TWO:
Only one half-hour after Collateral, Rick and I are browsing in the mall. On our walk from The Gap to the Cafe Court, I look to my left and see an 8 year-old girl collapse backwards to the floor - thwacking the base of her head on the surface. There's a dull thud. Her party (a mother and other children) look on in shock.
Then things get really bad when the little girl begins to twitch. Her head shakes back and forth and her arms clench up like a T-Rex's. The most horrifying part? Hearing her mother scream in panic, "Hel - my daugh - help!" to the guy at Gadzook's. Rick goes over to help and dials "911" on his cell phone.
Soon enough, a crowd forms. Policemen and ambulance drivers appear. Everything's taken care of - as far as we can tell.
THREE:
There really is no "3" - but one hour is left before Friday the 13th is done, so anything can happen. Perhaps you will fall down? Eh? Eh?
Somebody could argue, however, that one other nasty occurence was how on two occasions, people were in a state of emergency and I just watched while other people came to their rescue. Yeah, I know. I can tell myself that it's because I know it's been taken care of and I don't want to get in the way, but... still...
When I first watched "Friday the 13th Part 8," I did nothing for that guy who got his head punched off from the top of a Manhattan skyscraper.
Cases. In. Point.
ONE:
Twenty minutes into Collateral, a woman and her mother enter the theatre. My friends and I are chillin' in the front row and just as Tom "Silver Fox" Cruise is leaving for his first hit, the mother trips and falls right in front of us.
Her daughter runs to her help. Jake and Rick lean over to assist. Apparently, on her way down, the mother smacked her face onto Jake's kneecap. She's not getting up. And when she tries, she's in too much pain and falls over again.
Fortunately, she recovers. Her daughter gets her some ice for her eye. And although it is unknown exactly how she tripped (something about a railing?), all is well by Silver Fox's second hit.
TWO:
Only one half-hour after Collateral, Rick and I are browsing in the mall. On our walk from The Gap to the Cafe Court, I look to my left and see an 8 year-old girl collapse backwards to the floor - thwacking the base of her head on the surface. There's a dull thud. Her party (a mother and other children) look on in shock.
Then things get really bad when the little girl begins to twitch. Her head shakes back and forth and her arms clench up like a T-Rex's. The most horrifying part? Hearing her mother scream in panic, "Hel - my daugh - help!" to the guy at Gadzook's. Rick goes over to help and dials "911" on his cell phone.
Soon enough, a crowd forms. Policemen and ambulance drivers appear. Everything's taken care of - as far as we can tell.
THREE:
There really is no "3" - but one hour is left before Friday the 13th is done, so anything can happen. Perhaps you will fall down? Eh? Eh?
Somebody could argue, however, that one other nasty occurence was how on two occasions, people were in a state of emergency and I just watched while other people came to their rescue. Yeah, I know. I can tell myself that it's because I know it's been taken care of and I don't want to get in the way, but... still...
When I first watched "Friday the 13th Part 8," I did nothing for that guy who got his head punched off from the top of a Manhattan skyscraper.
Thursday, August 12, 2004
Momma Rust and Pauly Dangerfield go shoppin'.
I owed my mom $160. She said, "Hey, you need new clothes for California and I'm goin' to spend money for these clothes anyway, so why don't you just use that $160 and we'll call it even?"
I said, "Yes" and off we went to Southern Hills Mall for killer threads. Pants. Dress shirts. A new pair of jeans.
Today was the first time I went to a clothing store and bought "brand-new" clothes since... May 2003. Nearly 15 months. And that was a blue t-shirt at Wal-Mart. This makes me better/worse than you.
Clearly, I'm not much of a clothes shopper. In fact, I am annoyed when people talk about buying clothes or even their personal "fashion style" for that matter or any of that blah-blah-blah - except, of course, when my friend ________ does it (That's if anybody reads this and thinks I'm talking about them. I'm not. Insert your name. You're my friend and I like you. Honest. No, really, honest).
So, despite my dislike for such jibber-jabber, I'll write about such matters in my blog. Or write around it at least.
Basically, buying clothes is tough for me. Not in a "Ehhhh, I can't choose what to buy" way, but in a "Man-alive, I can't logistically buy clothes" way.
When I go into men's clothing sections, most of them don't carry clothes that reasonably fit me (admittedly, I am small, but I suspect this has to do with the majority of Northwest Iowan men being goddamn fat-asses).
So, I go into boy's clothing sections instead, but all of them are too tiny. Even if they did fit, I wouldn't want to wear shirts featuring tigers on top of Ferraris with "Makenzie" written in graffitti font. Also, there's no getting around it: trying on clothes in the boy's dressing rooms will always make you look like a pedophile. This has been proven through experiments.
Whatever. I acknowledge this is a complaint of luxury. I should (and more often than not) do appreciate my body size. Because I know in a few, short years, my cheeks will puff-and-sag, my neck will turn gobbler, and that inevitable gut-belly will rear its ugly head out of the bottom of my t-shirts.
Ehhhhh. I hate this blog. It's the blog equivalent of being caught gazing in the mirror. Or worse, it's the blog equivalent of those awful proud-to-be-different "Chicks Dig Pale, Scrawny Guys" shirts.
I owed my mom $160. She said, "Hey, you need new clothes for California and I'm goin' to spend money for these clothes anyway, so why don't you just use that $160 and we'll call it even?"
I said, "Yes" and off we went to Southern Hills Mall for killer threads. Pants. Dress shirts. A new pair of jeans.
Today was the first time I went to a clothing store and bought "brand-new" clothes since... May 2003. Nearly 15 months. And that was a blue t-shirt at Wal-Mart. This makes me better/worse than you.
Clearly, I'm not much of a clothes shopper. In fact, I am annoyed when people talk about buying clothes or even their personal "fashion style" for that matter or any of that blah-blah-blah - except, of course, when my friend ________ does it (That's if anybody reads this and thinks I'm talking about them. I'm not. Insert your name. You're my friend and I like you. Honest. No, really, honest).
So, despite my dislike for such jibber-jabber, I'll write about such matters in my blog. Or write around it at least.
Basically, buying clothes is tough for me. Not in a "Ehhhh, I can't choose what to buy" way, but in a "Man-alive, I can't logistically buy clothes" way.
When I go into men's clothing sections, most of them don't carry clothes that reasonably fit me (admittedly, I am small, but I suspect this has to do with the majority of Northwest Iowan men being goddamn fat-asses).
So, I go into boy's clothing sections instead, but all of them are too tiny. Even if they did fit, I wouldn't want to wear shirts featuring tigers on top of Ferraris with "Makenzie" written in graffitti font. Also, there's no getting around it: trying on clothes in the boy's dressing rooms will always make you look like a pedophile. This has been proven through experiments.
Whatever. I acknowledge this is a complaint of luxury. I should (and more often than not) do appreciate my body size. Because I know in a few, short years, my cheeks will puff-and-sag, my neck will turn gobbler, and that inevitable gut-belly will rear its ugly head out of the bottom of my t-shirts.
Ehhhhh. I hate this blog. It's the blog equivalent of being caught gazing in the mirror. Or worse, it's the blog equivalent of those awful proud-to-be-different "Chicks Dig Pale, Scrawny Guys" shirts.
Wednesday, August 11, 2004
Code Adam.
On Monday, a child was lost in Wal-Mart. This is known as a "Code Adam."
The announcer on the PA says, "Wal-Mart assoicates, we have a Code Adam - a boy with khaki shorts and a t-shirt that says United Methodist."
Then everybody goes looking for him.
I don't really comprehend why a code needs to be used for this - especially when it becomes abundantly clear within context that we're talking about a human being here. It's not as if a bomb threat is going to have khaki shorts and a t-shirt for a local church.
The child was difficult to find. It took nearly 10 minutes, which is unheard of.
Needless to say, I was very intrigued by all this. Abductions. Lost children. Runaways. All of this is endlessly fascinating for me.
I tried running away from home when I was five years old. I packed my bags and announced to my entire family what I was doing. I got to the front door - with no one watching (just sitting in the basement, watching TV). And I started bawling and ran back into the house.
My sister was waiting around the corner for me.
On Monday, a child was lost in Wal-Mart. This is known as a "Code Adam."
The announcer on the PA says, "Wal-Mart assoicates, we have a Code Adam - a boy with khaki shorts and a t-shirt that says United Methodist."
Then everybody goes looking for him.
I don't really comprehend why a code needs to be used for this - especially when it becomes abundantly clear within context that we're talking about a human being here. It's not as if a bomb threat is going to have khaki shorts and a t-shirt for a local church.
The child was difficult to find. It took nearly 10 minutes, which is unheard of.
Needless to say, I was very intrigued by all this. Abductions. Lost children. Runaways. All of this is endlessly fascinating for me.
I tried running away from home when I was five years old. I packed my bags and announced to my entire family what I was doing. I got to the front door - with no one watching (just sitting in the basement, watching TV). And I started bawling and ran back into the house.
My sister was waiting around the corner for me.
Sunday, August 08, 2004
Heavens to Betsy('s Wedding). I've missed my boat. And airplane. And dirigible.
For a few days, I had planned to acknowledge my "visitor barometer" and urge the 10,000th blog visitor to sign my guestbook (forever spitting on the fertile seeds of Father time).
However, much to the dismay of record-keepers everywhere, the opportunity's come and gone and I've missed my chance. Schmack.
If, for whatever reason, you happen to remember that you (YOU!) were the 10,000th maniac, then by all means, sign that goddamn guestbook. It's your civic duty. If you don't, it's like watching "American Idol" and not voting afterwards (i.e. stealing).
I am bracing myself for no sign(ature) from the myster visitor. Instead, I will imagine who the 10,000th visitor was. It'd like to think it was a famous general - adorned in medals and knives. And he's so cute!
Who's your fantasy 10,000th visitor?
Stacy said it was Bobby Moorhouser. What?! I'm just sayin'!
For a few days, I had planned to acknowledge my "visitor barometer" and urge the 10,000th blog visitor to sign my guestbook (forever spitting on the fertile seeds of Father time).
However, much to the dismay of record-keepers everywhere, the opportunity's come and gone and I've missed my chance. Schmack.
If, for whatever reason, you happen to remember that you (YOU!) were the 10,000th maniac, then by all means, sign that goddamn guestbook. It's your civic duty. If you don't, it's like watching "American Idol" and not voting afterwards (i.e. stealing).
I am bracing myself for no sign(ature) from the myster visitor. Instead, I will imagine who the 10,000th visitor was. It'd like to think it was a famous general - adorned in medals and knives. And he's so cute!
Who's your fantasy 10,000th visitor?
Stacy said it was Bobby Moorhouser. What?! I'm just sayin'!
Friday, August 06, 2004
This weekend, if you happen to be in the greater LeMars metropolitan area, I highly encourage you to attend...
DAVID MOWS YARDS
a movie by paul rust
Saturday, August 7th
7:30pm and 9:30pm
LeMars Community Theatre
Free Admission - Free Will Donation
Was shot in LeMars. Will screen in LeMars. Shall die and rot in LeMars.
DAVID MOWS YARDS
a movie by paul rust
Saturday, August 7th
7:30pm and 9:30pm
LeMars Community Theatre
Free Admission - Free Will Donation
Was shot in LeMars. Will screen in LeMars. Shall die and rot in LeMars.
Thursday, August 05, 2004
Here's a "LeMars Daily Sentinel" article about me and my movie. It's not me at my most elequent, but... your father and I still love you all the same.
Plus, there's big rock news. Nearly-to-the-day of 8 years ago, in the August before my freshman year of high school, I bought a modest CD known as Doolittle from the BMG Music Club. After hearing the opening track of "Debaser" (a song I promptly concluded held a sound that "I wanted all my life and finally had made for me"), I fell in love with its makers, The Pixies.
For many years afterwards, after purchasing all their records and side-projects' records and sound-alike-bands' records (RIP Toadies, Local H), disenchanted friends and I would lament how "this is the band that will never reunite." Alas, we'd never see our favorite rock-n-rollers live in concert.
But now I'm proud to report that I will be proven quite wrong when I see them in concert on Thursday, September 23rd in Los Angeles, California.
Tee-ight!
Special acknowledgement: My buddy Neil took the task of purchasing the tickets, so props go to him. If you see him on the street, say, "Thanks, Neil. You made the guy-whose-blog-I-read very happy."
Plus, there's big rock news. Nearly-to-the-day of 8 years ago, in the August before my freshman year of high school, I bought a modest CD known as Doolittle from the BMG Music Club. After hearing the opening track of "Debaser" (a song I promptly concluded held a sound that "I wanted all my life and finally had made for me"), I fell in love with its makers, The Pixies.
For many years afterwards, after purchasing all their records and side-projects' records and sound-alike-bands' records (RIP Toadies, Local H), disenchanted friends and I would lament how "this is the band that will never reunite." Alas, we'd never see our favorite rock-n-rollers live in concert.
But now I'm proud to report that I will be proven quite wrong when I see them in concert on Thursday, September 23rd in Los Angeles, California.
Tee-ight!
Special acknowledgement: My buddy Neil took the task of purchasing the tickets, so props go to him. If you see him on the street, say, "Thanks, Neil. You made the guy-whose-blog-I-read very happy."
Wednesday, August 04, 2004
Some feller known as CharmedSlayer316 on "The Internet Has a Database For Your Movies.Com" went to the summer blockbuster Catwoman and had a lot of burning questions afterwards. He wants them answered, dammit! Since I've seen the movie, I will answer them for him. Enjoy!
1. At the beginning of the movie, did you realize that the characters wore the same thing at Hedare Cosmetics for two days in a row?
Yes, but they explained this. You must have been out of the theatre (getting popcorn-and-green-beans) when the Hedare Cosmetics boss said, "Alright, everybody. New company policy. You've heard of Casual Fridays? Tomorrow is Po' Folk Tuesdays. You must wear the same clothes for two days in a row, carry your lunch in a plastic Hy-Vee bag, and wear Pamida Pumpers."
2. If Patience wanted to get her partying neighbors attention pre-Catwoman, why didn't she just go to their door like she did later in the film?
At the time, Patience had a rare condition (in this day and age) called Mingler's Syndrome. Basically, the symptoms are being afraid of doors and specifically, "going to their door." Fortunately, however, Patience isn't afraid of those famed rock-n-rollers known as "The Doors." Live on, Morrison (Toni)! Impeach Bush.
3. How did Tom Lone get into Patience's house when he thought she was going to jump off the air condition?
There are many things in this world "with conditions," CharmedSlayer316. Love. Honor. Glory. But one thing that is certainly without condition is air. Learn that first and the answer lies before you, child.
4. Why the hell would you climb on an air condition? For a cat?
Why did Hercules build temples for Hera? Why did Cain murder Abel? These are all larger mythic questions that we have been asking ourselves for ages.
Plus, Patience likes kitties! A lot! She thinks they're cute and wants to pet them! With her hands!
5. And how in the world did the Mau cat get into Patience's house? Magic?
If you and this world are so jaded that it cannot believe a Mau cat can enter a home through the power of magic, then perhaps... I do not want to be a part of such a world.
6. Tell the truth, wasn't Alex Borstein the funniest person in the movie?
Guilty as charged!
7. Did you notice Patience kept loosing her shoes?
I assume this is a spelling error and you meant to write, "foobing her shouls." The reason Patience kept "foobing her shouls" is because she is diabetic. Case closed. Impeach Bush.
8. When they were chasing her, why didn't Patience leave the same way she came out, but instead she had to run toward the pipes?
"Running Toward the Pipes" is as long-standing of a tradition as Spain's heralded "Running of the Bulls" and Holland's beloved "Swimming Near the Leaky Rowboat." Patience was simply participating in one of America's greatest traditions. Or didn't you know that, Benedict Arnold?
9. Did you see how fake that cat was that ressurected her?
CharmedSlayer316, this seems less like a question and more of an opportunity to backhand the movie. It'd be like if I asked: "Hey, why are you being such a prick about that cat who ressurected Patience?"
10. Why did Benjamin Bratt take it upon himself to show his chest in the basketball part? Can you say ugh?
Yes, I can say "Ugh." But I can also say, "Hot damn! Me so horny for Latins!"
11. Is it me or does Sharon Stone need some sunlight?
Mm-hmm. I've talked it over with many others and yes, a majority of them agreed that Sharon Stone does indeed "need some sunlight." Good job.
12. How Patience started the motorcycle without keys?
Mind control. Cats have this power. I once saw my cat Minnie start a vaccum cleaner just by farting on it.
13. And when she cut her hair, how did she do that so quick?
In the vast and complex World of Film, there is a Republic of Editing. This nation's major policies include: 1) instituting a consistent sense of space and time, 2) creating a desired mood, style, and/or tone, and 3) cuttin' out the boring parts. Although test audiences were requesting (nay, demanding) that the film show the entire, lengthy process of Patience cutting her hair, the producers nixed the idea, citing: "Let's piss off CharmedSlayer316."
14. How did Patience create that Catwoman suit so quickly?
From 1997 to 1999, Patience was Lead Fashion Consultant for "Hott-n-Skanky," Remsen-Union High School's premiere drill team. Why, I heard she made 37 outfits in one fortnight!
15. What did Sharon Stone cut her husband with that made it look like cat claws?
"Cat-Claw Knives" from Norelco, Inc. We sell them in the Hardware Department at Wal-Mart. Come out sometime and I'll show them to you. They're right next to the product known as "Kiss my ass!"
16. Who is running Hedare now that they all are dead?
Chris Harris. He's a pretty good guy. He can be a dick from time to time, but all in all, he's a stand-up guy.
17. Shouldn't the whole police force know that Catwoman is really Patience?
Yes and you've picked up on something very important, CharmedSlayer316. Fortunately, there will be a specialized Federal commision investigating exactly why the police force didn't know Catwoman is really Patience and more importantly, who messed this up! Impeach Bush.
18. Didn't that catlady have one cheap staircase to push Patience off from it?
"That Catlady" you're referring to is my mother. Thanks a lot, CharmedSlayer316. Thanks a lot.
19. Did the ending seem soo much like Spider-Man?
Yes - especially the part where Tobey Maguire came out and said, "Yo, Patience! I'm Spiderman 2! Where's my Seabisquits?!"
And that, as they say, is that.
1. At the beginning of the movie, did you realize that the characters wore the same thing at Hedare Cosmetics for two days in a row?
Yes, but they explained this. You must have been out of the theatre (getting popcorn-and-green-beans) when the Hedare Cosmetics boss said, "Alright, everybody. New company policy. You've heard of Casual Fridays? Tomorrow is Po' Folk Tuesdays. You must wear the same clothes for two days in a row, carry your lunch in a plastic Hy-Vee bag, and wear Pamida Pumpers."
2. If Patience wanted to get her partying neighbors attention pre-Catwoman, why didn't she just go to their door like she did later in the film?
At the time, Patience had a rare condition (in this day and age) called Mingler's Syndrome. Basically, the symptoms are being afraid of doors and specifically, "going to their door." Fortunately, however, Patience isn't afraid of those famed rock-n-rollers known as "The Doors." Live on, Morrison (Toni)! Impeach Bush.
3. How did Tom Lone get into Patience's house when he thought she was going to jump off the air condition?
There are many things in this world "with conditions," CharmedSlayer316. Love. Honor. Glory. But one thing that is certainly without condition is air. Learn that first and the answer lies before you, child.
4. Why the hell would you climb on an air condition? For a cat?
Why did Hercules build temples for Hera? Why did Cain murder Abel? These are all larger mythic questions that we have been asking ourselves for ages.
Plus, Patience likes kitties! A lot! She thinks they're cute and wants to pet them! With her hands!
5. And how in the world did the Mau cat get into Patience's house? Magic?
If you and this world are so jaded that it cannot believe a Mau cat can enter a home through the power of magic, then perhaps... I do not want to be a part of such a world.
6. Tell the truth, wasn't Alex Borstein the funniest person in the movie?
Guilty as charged!
7. Did you notice Patience kept loosing her shoes?
I assume this is a spelling error and you meant to write, "foobing her shouls." The reason Patience kept "foobing her shouls" is because she is diabetic. Case closed. Impeach Bush.
8. When they were chasing her, why didn't Patience leave the same way she came out, but instead she had to run toward the pipes?
"Running Toward the Pipes" is as long-standing of a tradition as Spain's heralded "Running of the Bulls" and Holland's beloved "Swimming Near the Leaky Rowboat." Patience was simply participating in one of America's greatest traditions. Or didn't you know that, Benedict Arnold?
9. Did you see how fake that cat was that ressurected her?
CharmedSlayer316, this seems less like a question and more of an opportunity to backhand the movie. It'd be like if I asked: "Hey, why are you being such a prick about that cat who ressurected Patience?"
10. Why did Benjamin Bratt take it upon himself to show his chest in the basketball part? Can you say ugh?
Yes, I can say "Ugh." But I can also say, "Hot damn! Me so horny for Latins!"
11. Is it me or does Sharon Stone need some sunlight?
Mm-hmm. I've talked it over with many others and yes, a majority of them agreed that Sharon Stone does indeed "need some sunlight." Good job.
12. How Patience started the motorcycle without keys?
Mind control. Cats have this power. I once saw my cat Minnie start a vaccum cleaner just by farting on it.
13. And when she cut her hair, how did she do that so quick?
In the vast and complex World of Film, there is a Republic of Editing. This nation's major policies include: 1) instituting a consistent sense of space and time, 2) creating a desired mood, style, and/or tone, and 3) cuttin' out the boring parts. Although test audiences were requesting (nay, demanding) that the film show the entire, lengthy process of Patience cutting her hair, the producers nixed the idea, citing: "Let's piss off CharmedSlayer316."
14. How did Patience create that Catwoman suit so quickly?
From 1997 to 1999, Patience was Lead Fashion Consultant for "Hott-n-Skanky," Remsen-Union High School's premiere drill team. Why, I heard she made 37 outfits in one fortnight!
15. What did Sharon Stone cut her husband with that made it look like cat claws?
"Cat-Claw Knives" from Norelco, Inc. We sell them in the Hardware Department at Wal-Mart. Come out sometime and I'll show them to you. They're right next to the product known as "Kiss my ass!"
16. Who is running Hedare now that they all are dead?
Chris Harris. He's a pretty good guy. He can be a dick from time to time, but all in all, he's a stand-up guy.
17. Shouldn't the whole police force know that Catwoman is really Patience?
Yes and you've picked up on something very important, CharmedSlayer316. Fortunately, there will be a specialized Federal commision investigating exactly why the police force didn't know Catwoman is really Patience and more importantly, who messed this up! Impeach Bush.
18. Didn't that catlady have one cheap staircase to push Patience off from it?
"That Catlady" you're referring to is my mother. Thanks a lot, CharmedSlayer316. Thanks a lot.
19. Did the ending seem soo much like Spider-Man?
Yes - especially the part where Tobey Maguire came out and said, "Yo, Patience! I'm Spiderman 2! Where's my Seabisquits?!"
And that, as they say, is that.
Sunday, August 01, 2004
My buddy Adam read in a book once that John Lennon was paranoid about what Bob Dylan thought of him. He wanted to be cool in Dylan's eyes.
Aw, yes. God love geniuses who are insecure.
I'd like to think that Thomas Edison was always asking Albert Einstein's friends, "So... what's, like, Einstein say about me? Does he ever mention me?"
And they'd be like, "No. He doesn't talk about you."
Then Edison's head would drop a bit. He'd kick at the dirt.
"But... don't let that bother you," Einstein's friends would be quick to add. "He doesn't talk about anybody, really. He's a pretty quiet guy."
"Yeah, I can - I can see that," Edison would mutter, nodding his head. "But there's gotta' be... you know, something he said. Once. Right?"
"I guess... I think... I think he said the lightbulb was a pretty cool idea."
"Really? He said that? Einstein said that?"
"Yeah... maybe. I think so. Yeah. I think so."
Edison would beam - then he'd go and brag to his family members at the Edison Reunion that him and Einstein are "best friends."
Everyone would believe him except Edison's cousin Keith. He knows better.
Aw, yes. God love geniuses who are insecure.
I'd like to think that Thomas Edison was always asking Albert Einstein's friends, "So... what's, like, Einstein say about me? Does he ever mention me?"
And they'd be like, "No. He doesn't talk about you."
Then Edison's head would drop a bit. He'd kick at the dirt.
"But... don't let that bother you," Einstein's friends would be quick to add. "He doesn't talk about anybody, really. He's a pretty quiet guy."
"Yeah, I can - I can see that," Edison would mutter, nodding his head. "But there's gotta' be... you know, something he said. Once. Right?"
"I guess... I think... I think he said the lightbulb was a pretty cool idea."
"Really? He said that? Einstein said that?"
"Yeah... maybe. I think so. Yeah. I think so."
Edison would beam - then he'd go and brag to his family members at the Edison Reunion that him and Einstein are "best friends."
Everyone would believe him except Edison's cousin Keith. He knows better.
Friday, July 30, 2004
I'm sick.
I went to the doctor today and he determined it's a case of allergies. Ragweed, he said. Funny. Usually, it's Rag-time that gives me da' fever... in my feet!
And my heart, child. And my heart.
So, my nose is runny. My throat is cough-y. And my ears are plugged up.
Sick.
Consequently, I don't feel like putting much time into writing a blog today. I just want to bitch-n-moan about my health.
Hmmmm. Nobody likes blog entries like this.
But don't worry... soon, I will be restored to full heel-clicking health and we can all sit back and laugh about the day Ol' Man Ragweed pulled a fast one on Pauly Dangerfield.
I went to the doctor today and he determined it's a case of allergies. Ragweed, he said. Funny. Usually, it's Rag-time that gives me da' fever... in my feet!
And my heart, child. And my heart.
So, my nose is runny. My throat is cough-y. And my ears are plugged up.
Sick.
Consequently, I don't feel like putting much time into writing a blog today. I just want to bitch-n-moan about my health.
Hmmmm. Nobody likes blog entries like this.
But don't worry... soon, I will be restored to full heel-clicking health and we can all sit back and laugh about the day Ol' Man Ragweed pulled a fast one on Pauly Dangerfield.
Wednesday, July 28, 2004
Let the MEDIA SATURATION begin!
Despite the presence of the Democratic National Convention and the more newsworthy 2004 Plymouth County Fair, I am still finding a way to get my fat mug on local media outlets. Yesterday, I was interviewed on KCAU-ABC's Live at Five program and was featured in pieces on KMEG-CBS' 6 o'clock and 10 o'clock news programs.
The occasion?
The upcoming screening of David Mows Yards at the LeMars Community Theatre on Saturday, August 7th (at 7:30pm and 9:30pm).
It should be mentioned that these TV appearances existed through the iron-horse publicity work of Frances Krull - who plays "Carol" in the aforementioned movie. Not only did she secure those opportunities for publicity, but these as well:
1. Thursday, July 29th (12pm)
Interview on news
KCAU-ABC
2. Tuesday, August 3rd (11:30pm)
Interview on "What Now" program
KLEM Radio (1410 AM)
3. Saturday, August 7th (8:30am)
Interview on "Around Siouxland"
KTIV-NBC
I am also being interviewed for articles in "trade papers" such as The Daily Sentinel, Sioux City Journal, and The Weekender. You subscribe to these all.
Of course, the whole point of doing these things is to find a way to be a subversive, little ass, right? Yes. Before yesterday's TV interview, my friend Rick and I were brainstorming things that I could do such as:
1. Answer questions in short, violent sentences ("This is a movie. I made it. It's called David Mows Yards. I was in it. It's about lawnmowing.")
2. Refer to the interviewer as if you know his own personal history. ("Well, Larry, this movie takes place in my hometown LeMars, but it's like anybody's hometown - like yours in Storm Lake, Iowa.") Note: It's best if newscaster Larry Wentz never grew up in Storm Lake, Iowa.
3. Give false information. ("David Mows Yards is about a boy mowing older women's yards - all set against the backdrop of the Waco, Texas tragedy.")
Clearly, I chickened out and did none of these.
Ah, well. There'll be other opportunities. Just like in life!
Despite the presence of the Democratic National Convention and the more newsworthy 2004 Plymouth County Fair, I am still finding a way to get my fat mug on local media outlets. Yesterday, I was interviewed on KCAU-ABC's Live at Five program and was featured in pieces on KMEG-CBS' 6 o'clock and 10 o'clock news programs.
The occasion?
The upcoming screening of David Mows Yards at the LeMars Community Theatre on Saturday, August 7th (at 7:30pm and 9:30pm).
It should be mentioned that these TV appearances existed through the iron-horse publicity work of Frances Krull - who plays "Carol" in the aforementioned movie. Not only did she secure those opportunities for publicity, but these as well:
1. Thursday, July 29th (12pm)
Interview on news
KCAU-ABC
2. Tuesday, August 3rd (11:30pm)
Interview on "What Now" program
KLEM Radio (1410 AM)
3. Saturday, August 7th (8:30am)
Interview on "Around Siouxland"
KTIV-NBC
I am also being interviewed for articles in "trade papers" such as The Daily Sentinel, Sioux City Journal, and The Weekender. You subscribe to these all.
Of course, the whole point of doing these things is to find a way to be a subversive, little ass, right? Yes. Before yesterday's TV interview, my friend Rick and I were brainstorming things that I could do such as:
1. Answer questions in short, violent sentences ("This is a movie. I made it. It's called David Mows Yards. I was in it. It's about lawnmowing.")
2. Refer to the interviewer as if you know his own personal history. ("Well, Larry, this movie takes place in my hometown LeMars, but it's like anybody's hometown - like yours in Storm Lake, Iowa.") Note: It's best if newscaster Larry Wentz never grew up in Storm Lake, Iowa.
3. Give false information. ("David Mows Yards is about a boy mowing older women's yards - all set against the backdrop of the Waco, Texas tragedy.")
Clearly, I chickened out and did none of these.
Ah, well. There'll be other opportunities. Just like in life!
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
On returning from their trip to San Francisco, my mother Jeanne and her mother Joan (GRANDMA JOAN!!!) had an unexpected lay-over in Las Vegas, Nevada. Consequently, they must spend the night in "Sinners' City."
I cannot say what will happen to these two women, but clearly, their story will be optioned by the folks in Holly-weird and made into a movie. These will be the possible titles:
1. Joan and Jeanne: Two J's Kickin' A (As in "Your Ass")
2. Betting Big, Driving Sensibly: The Joanie and Jean-Dog Neon-Soaked Dilemma
3. Black Jack Joan and Gin-Rummy Jeanne: How the West Was Fun
4. Vega$: Where All the S's Are $pelled With Dollar $ign$
5. That's Why We Can't Have Nice Things (But We're Going to Change That): How J&J Stole Brewster's Millions
6. The Banger Sisters 2
7. Mamma' Joan and Momma Jean: I Bet When Our Respective Grandson and Son Thinks About Us in Las Vegas, It Makes Him Feel Weird
8. Uh-huh, Uh-huh... Yeah, Uh-huh: This is How We Both Talk on the Phone
Have you talked to your mother on the phone lately? Give her a call. I bet she'd love to talk to you.
I cannot say what will happen to these two women, but clearly, their story will be optioned by the folks in Holly-weird and made into a movie. These will be the possible titles:
1. Joan and Jeanne: Two J's Kickin' A (As in "Your Ass")
2. Betting Big, Driving Sensibly: The Joanie and Jean-Dog Neon-Soaked Dilemma
3. Black Jack Joan and Gin-Rummy Jeanne: How the West Was Fun
4. Vega$: Where All the S's Are $pelled With Dollar $ign$
5. That's Why We Can't Have Nice Things (But We're Going to Change That): How J&J Stole Brewster's Millions
6. The Banger Sisters 2
7. Mamma' Joan and Momma Jean: I Bet When Our Respective Grandson and Son Thinks About Us in Las Vegas, It Makes Him Feel Weird
8. Uh-huh, Uh-huh... Yeah, Uh-huh: This is How We Both Talk on the Phone
Have you talked to your mother on the phone lately? Give her a call. I bet she'd love to talk to you.
Sunday, July 25, 2004
A 1989 Chevy Corsica has been an honorary member of the Rust family for 13 years. And after all these years, Ol' Man Time-y Tutone has not been "nice" to this car.
The air conditioning doesn't work, the driver's side door doesn't close all the way (and is prone to swing open when turning corners), and the engine dies when the weather's hottt. Kids call it "a piece of shit." The Rusts call it "our piece of shit."
Most of the time, my poppa drives this car, but a few weeks ago, I drove it to work at Wal-Mart.
Hours later, as I'm driving home, the car inevitably starts sputtering and stuttering in the summer heat. It stalls after I turn it on. It stalls when I leave the parking lot. It stalls while I wait for a traffic light. This car's stallin' more than Lesley... Stahl. Brah.
Still, I persevere.
But this whole time, I'm sweatin' - and not just because it's 97 degress out. I'm worried that the car will stop dead-center in the approaching intersection. I imagine the impending desturction...
a cement truck barrels into me and then a garbage truck crashes into that, then a bunch of cars pile up, and a giant zeppelin falls from the sky and lands on it all.
then, a bird farts.
But as can be expected by the "Paul-meister" (copyright - patent pending), I keeps my kool though the whole ordeal. I tap the brakes just so and don't make any sudden movements and I pass through the intersection with no signs of fiery death.
Then... a few moments pass... a minute goes by... and I realized that...
I'd been listening to Phil Collin's "In the Air Tonight" on the radio the whole time.
Jesus. I hate that song. It's the worst. Ever.
I turned the radio off.
I'm beginning to realize that I only get bummed about things when I'm comfortable (and have the opportunity to nit-pick minor details). When you're fighting for "survival," stuff like a bad Phil Collins song don't matter.
That's why rich, priveleged people kill themselves and poor, life-day-to-day people don't.
Not a generalization whatsoever.
The air conditioning doesn't work, the driver's side door doesn't close all the way (and is prone to swing open when turning corners), and the engine dies when the weather's hottt. Kids call it "a piece of shit." The Rusts call it "our piece of shit."
Most of the time, my poppa drives this car, but a few weeks ago, I drove it to work at Wal-Mart.
Hours later, as I'm driving home, the car inevitably starts sputtering and stuttering in the summer heat. It stalls after I turn it on. It stalls when I leave the parking lot. It stalls while I wait for a traffic light. This car's stallin' more than Lesley... Stahl. Brah.
Still, I persevere.
But this whole time, I'm sweatin' - and not just because it's 97 degress out. I'm worried that the car will stop dead-center in the approaching intersection. I imagine the impending desturction...
a cement truck barrels into me and then a garbage truck crashes into that, then a bunch of cars pile up, and a giant zeppelin falls from the sky and lands on it all.
then, a bird farts.
But as can be expected by the "Paul-meister" (copyright - patent pending), I keeps my kool though the whole ordeal. I tap the brakes just so and don't make any sudden movements and I pass through the intersection with no signs of fiery death.
Then... a few moments pass... a minute goes by... and I realized that...
I'd been listening to Phil Collin's "In the Air Tonight" on the radio the whole time.
Jesus. I hate that song. It's the worst. Ever.
I turned the radio off.
I'm beginning to realize that I only get bummed about things when I'm comfortable (and have the opportunity to nit-pick minor details). When you're fighting for "survival," stuff like a bad Phil Collins song don't matter.
That's why rich, priveleged people kill themselves and poor, life-day-to-day people don't.
Not a generalization whatsoever.
Thursday, July 22, 2004
If your mother is a junior-high teacher, I highly suggest you go into a local video store with her.
That way, you are with her when she runs into students.
My promise: They will stare at you as if you're an exotic creature unknown to this earth.
Indeed, have you forgotten how weird it was to run into teachers in public? They wear jeans?! Or more shockingly: They wear sweatpants?!
Have you also forgotten how weird it was to see them with their "older kids" - the ones they would occasionally mention in class and you dared to conceive in your mind's eye? I hear she does drugs! Or more shockingly: I hear she wears sweatpants!
Yes, I am the "older kid." I may or may not have done that thing you heard I did. Your older sibling may or may not have "known me in high school." This is why I'm intriguing. To all of you.
Insider's tip: Act like you don't notice your mother's students. It makes you seem cooler and more dangerous.
That way, you are with her when she runs into students.
My promise: They will stare at you as if you're an exotic creature unknown to this earth.
Indeed, have you forgotten how weird it was to run into teachers in public? They wear jeans?! Or more shockingly: They wear sweatpants?!
Have you also forgotten how weird it was to see them with their "older kids" - the ones they would occasionally mention in class and you dared to conceive in your mind's eye? I hear she does drugs! Or more shockingly: I hear she wears sweatpants!
Yes, I am the "older kid." I may or may not have done that thing you heard I did. Your older sibling may or may not have "known me in high school." This is why I'm intriguing. To all of you.
Insider's tip: Act like you don't notice your mother's students. It makes you seem cooler and more dangerous.
Wednesday, July 21, 2004
I've randomly chosen five movie stars and pitted the first two movies of their filmographies against each other. Let the games begin (and the blood pour from the losers' throats)!
1. Sigourney Weaver
Annie Hall (1977) vs. Madman (1978)
Some would say that Mr. Woody Allen is a Madman (considering how weird he can get)! However, if I had a gun to my head (which I do), I would choose Madman as the clear-cut winner.
2. Jeff Goldblum
Death Wish (1974) vs. California Split (1974)
For centuries, man has wondered who would win if Death indeed battled California. But what about the far-more fascinating face-off between Wish and Split? If I had my druthers (which I do), I would wish that my pants would split. And then I'd get my period in my stone-washed jeans in front of Mark Palarro!
Obviously, this is a tie.
3. Ned Beatty
Deliverance (1972) vs. The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean (1972)
Political pundits have agreed that the debate over these two titles will decide this year's upcoming election. Insiders are whispering that Bush will be "pro-Bean" whereas Kerry's campaign insist he is not "anti-Deliverance." Whatever the case, I'm sure Bill's O'Reilly Factor has something to say about it!
My choice? I'm avoiding the whole debate and voting for Shadows in the Storm. Gotta' catch it!
4. Dennis Quaid
Crazy Mama (1975) vs. 9/30/55 (1977)
Hands down, 9/30/55 wins this competition! Admittedly, I am a little biased. September 30th, 1955 always had a special place in my heart. It was the day I lost my virginity... to Scrabble!
I'll never know why that homeless man called himself "Scrabble."
5. Marie Dionne
The Country Doctor (1936) vs. Going on Two (1936)
Talk about your tough decisions! It's like asking me to choose between children!
As such, Going on Two is the child you brag about to your co-workers at Wells Fargo and The Country Doctor is the child you say overdosed while studying abroad.
Don't let somebody else decide for you! Vote!
1. Sigourney Weaver
Annie Hall (1977) vs. Madman (1978)
Some would say that Mr. Woody Allen is a Madman (considering how weird he can get)! However, if I had a gun to my head (which I do), I would choose Madman as the clear-cut winner.
2. Jeff Goldblum
Death Wish (1974) vs. California Split (1974)
For centuries, man has wondered who would win if Death indeed battled California. But what about the far-more fascinating face-off between Wish and Split? If I had my druthers (which I do), I would wish that my pants would split. And then I'd get my period in my stone-washed jeans in front of Mark Palarro!
Obviously, this is a tie.
3. Ned Beatty
Deliverance (1972) vs. The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean (1972)
Political pundits have agreed that the debate over these two titles will decide this year's upcoming election. Insiders are whispering that Bush will be "pro-Bean" whereas Kerry's campaign insist he is not "anti-Deliverance." Whatever the case, I'm sure Bill's O'Reilly Factor has something to say about it!
My choice? I'm avoiding the whole debate and voting for Shadows in the Storm. Gotta' catch it!
4. Dennis Quaid
Crazy Mama (1975) vs. 9/30/55 (1977)
Hands down, 9/30/55 wins this competition! Admittedly, I am a little biased. September 30th, 1955 always had a special place in my heart. It was the day I lost my virginity... to Scrabble!
I'll never know why that homeless man called himself "Scrabble."
5. Marie Dionne
The Country Doctor (1936) vs. Going on Two (1936)
Talk about your tough decisions! It's like asking me to choose between children!
As such, Going on Two is the child you brag about to your co-workers at Wells Fargo and The Country Doctor is the child you say overdosed while studying abroad.
Don't let somebody else decide for you! Vote!
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