No more alarm clocks.

We finished shooting the ol' movie tonight. Finally. The six week schedule turned into a nine week schedule. But I think I'm off until September now, so things are cool.

I bought a last minute plane ticket to Atlanta for Corndog-O-Rama this weekend. I enjoy most things that end in 'o-rama'. I'll only be there for like 2 days, but I just wanted to get the fuck out of town and drink my ass off. Kind of clean the slate, then get back here and put together the life that I've neglected for the last 6 months because of work.

This entry is going south fast. I can feel the bitterness biting through. I guess I'm just tired and should probably sleep. I have an assload of crap to do tomorrow before my 7am flight on Saturday morning.

Happiness to come. Soon.

A few more from the series...

Green machine.

On Monday night, The Incredible Hulk is going to be on American Gladiators.

Its about time television got it right.

Oooh, I need some beer. Been drinking dirty ass martinis for the last 2 hours and the gin is gone. It's movie marathon night on my couch tonight. Saturday night and I'm watching movies by myself and drinking martinis. How lame is that?

Tomorrow's madness? Clean the house and do laundry. Punk rock will never die!

In other news...

Rollerkoaster

I guess this is 13 or 14 years old now. Holy shit, I'm old. But gottdam, I forgot how much I loved Railroad Jerk.



In other news, I had a sinus infection for the last week and a half. Totally awesome. The only thing better than standing on your feet and working for 12 hours a day, is doing it while sick. And with the hours that we work, I can't even get to the doctor's office. I spent most of Friday apologizing to fellow crew folks that I had pissed off during the week (I get super pissy when I'm either tired or sick or both). I also got an earful from Mel the entire week for not going to the doctor. Today, I found a walk-in clinic that was open on Sunday. The doctor lady prescribed me some antibiotics and some sort of steroid nasal spray. The antibiotics (and the doctor) say that I shouldn't take them with alcohol, but we'll just see what happens with that.

Halfsies waysies. Kind of.

We hit the middle point of shooting for Shorts. I'm so fucking tired. Four weeks in and we're already adding extra weeks to the end of the schedule.

Everything's fairly cool. The kids are chill. W.H. Macy is awesome. Spader is an oddball.

We're shooting nights this week. Basically 7pm to 7am. Our location is about 45 minutes out of town, so I've been riding to work with Ethan every day to save on some sweet gas money. Yesterday morning, he dropped me off after filming. I got out of the van and he took off. I took about 5 steps toward my front door and realized I had left my wallet and keys in the sound trailer at work. So about 10 minutes later, I'm busting out my back bathroom window to climb through. Head first. Nothing was going to stop me from making sweet love to my pillows and mattress.

I can't wait for the weekend. Someone is gonna get drunk, and considering it'll only be me on the couch by myself with the newly stocked liquor cabinet, that "someone" will probably be me.

At least my fingers are crossed that it'll be me.

Elliott vs Kermit

Brilliant.

Melty.

"If Heaven and Hell decide that they both are satisfied."

I'm not a Dresden Dolls fan, and I am in no way, shape, or form a Death Cab fan, but Amanda Palmer's cover of "I Will Follow You Into the Dark" is absolutely, fucking beautiful.

Amanda's Myspace thingy. (Right now it's the last song)

Phil.

Holy fuckshit, I can't wait to see this son of a bitch.

In other news, for a dude that's off, I sure have been busy as crapola for the last few weeks.

We start shooting this monster in 10 days.

Pray for me, diary thingy.

Cash money.

I bet the most lucrative job back in pirate days was eyepatch salesman.

And I bet the most lucrative job in Sturge days this morning was vodka salesman.

P.S. - And the most lucrative job right now is backspace salesman. Stupid alcohol.

Omega Man.

Charlton Heston died tonight. Fucking finally.

I've been thinking about death way too much lately. I found out that an old, good friend of mine killed himself the other day. I, in no way, shape, or form, deserve to be the judge, but some people just deserve to be dead. And some people deserve to live forever.

Unfortunately, the outcomes are usually reversed.

P.S. - I'll probably proof-read this tomorrow morning when I'm sober and will delete this bastard of an entry. I might even delete this whole bastard of a blog. Cuz some things deserve to die.

Getting the fuck out of the US.

Jesus vs Rock

My mom called today and asked if I was doing anything special for Easter.

I said, "No".

I guess I don't consider getting mega-hobo drunk and falling down a whole bunch "special" any more.

Doing nothing.

Yesterday was the first of five days off for us.

I got extra retarded drunk all day. Ordered way too much chinese take out. Blasted the stereo. And passed the fuck out.

Today, I was going to start running all the errands and doing all the chores that I've had to neglect for the last 6 weeks, but with 5 days off, I can afford to repeat yesterday's antics.

Maybe even do it again tomorrow.

Dare to dream.

Hump.

Yesterday was the official hump day in the shoot. Day 19 of 38. It's been nothing but smooth and it's been flying by. Awesome.

Lisa is just about the nicest, sweetest person on the planet. And so is Vanessa. I don't know why I expected the worst with V, but she's pretty damn awesome. I get a little excited whenever I see that they'll be in scenes that we're shooting that day, because I know it will be a cool, chill day.

The crew parking area for this whole week is about 100 feet from the Dog & Duck. So, last night, a bunch of us wrapped as fast as we could and ran across the street and rowdied up that place like it was nobody's business. A "pint or two" each turned into a "pitcher or two" each. Nothing like a bunch of tired, bitter, drunken fools to make your dining and drinking experience go south. Sorry about the foul language, patrons. Also, we'll be there again tonight.

This song has been growing on me like a fungus.



And here's the Letterman version.

Fist pump.

DAY OFF!

We finished shooting week 2 yesterday. We were supposed to have yesterday off, but we ended up shooting a scene for 6 or 7 hours that we had skipped last week because Scott was sick. Wrap couldn't come soon enough. We packed the trucks in record time, and a couple of us hauled ass over to Opal's for some sweet early afternoon drink-your-face-off action.

Full strength.

In super sucky news, we were offered the 2nd unit gig on Malick's new movie. Unfortunately, the movie I'm on now will overlap the start of Tree, so we most likely can't take it. Super fuck! But then, in a weird chain of events, we were offered the new Narnia movie, which would be like a 3 month shoot in Mexico starting in June.

Shit's getting nuts. Luckily, there's whiskey. Which I will start drinking right now.

Worky worky.

So, tonight we finished week one of shooting for Will. Just six more weeks to go. Fortunately, it's a fucking laugh factory. Not what's happening in front of the lens, of course, but the behind the camera antics. If I could hand pick people from Austin for some sort of dream crew, there's about 90% of them working on this.

It makes working actually fun.

It's almost 4am and I'm drinking some beers and watching "Nocturnal State" on VH-1. I wish I had a Tivo/DVR thingy, cuz I'd record the fuck out of this thing every night it's on.

We have a three day "weekend" (Thu, Fri, Sat) this week, so I should probably put a breathalyzer on this blog/diary thingy to keep my soon-to-be drunkenness off the webernet.

P.S. - During typing, I had to tell spellcheck to learn "thingy" and "webernet".

Old jokes are the best jokes.

What has two thumbs and loves blow jobs?

This guy right here!



Fuck. I had to do it.

Fashion.

I'm heading down to Florida tomorrow morning to get drunk and be in Mark's wedding.

In totally unrelated (aka - completely related) news, I headed over to Bird's this afternoon and, for the first time since 1991, paid for a haircut.

I apparently didn't know what I was missing and will be paying for more haircuts in the near future.

Here's a picture from Sundance that Wiley took. I've got sexy Caroline dancing up on me, yet I'm staring off into oblivion and giving props to the black power movement. God bless alcohol. The girl in the background likes what she sees, though.




And once again, I'm staring off into nowhere. Am I even at these parties?

Partay.

Facebook is throwing a premiere party for Goliath at Sundance this year. Don't ask how it happened. Mainly because I don't know.

Goliath @ Facebook (with some video clips).

I like turtles.

My new best friend...




And here's the main reason I don't think I should have kids. I would make them do shit like this until they were well into their adulthood...

Goliath.

Sundance in 10 days. The trailer is up.

Goliath.

I'd like to take a mulligan on last year.

It's amazing how much respect cement loses when you're drunk. It ain't no bouncy castle.

In other news, I started dreaming again. Well, I started remembering my dreams at least. I've had really bad sleeping problems the last few years. Except for a few anomalies, I sleep for 3 or 4 hours at most a night. And even then, it's usually broken up into 2 or 3 hour-and-a-half segments. There are a few reasons why I've had the sleeping problems, none of which I've been able to conquer, and each of which is detrimental to the others. I think the scientific term is "big fucking downward spiral". But the comfort of the new house and surroundings and a few other small changes in my life have let me keep my eyes closed for up to 3 hours at a time, giving my mind the ability to start dreaming again. Hopefully, the dirty, sexy ones will start soon.

Florida was fun. I haven't said that in years. And I was even sick the whole time. My pops and I played in a 3-day father/son golf tournament. We didn't come close to finishing at the top, but considering there were 2 current PGA tour players and a former Master's champion also in the tourney, we did well. On second thought, we didn't do well, but we did well at having fun. I'm going to start trying to do well at grammar. Or not.

Mark and Fran had their wedding shower while I was down there, too. It was also known as a kegger with a margarita machine, disguised as a wedding shower. Sandy's parents graciously hosted the event in their new house, which was very brave of them. I think Mark summed it up best when we were leaving the next morning...

"You know it's a good party when you have to borrow a pair of pants from the host."

I upgraded to a new 160gb iPod for Christmas. My mom was going to buy one for herself. But considering she only owns like 6 cd's, she didn't need a new one. So, she got me the 160gb and I gave her my Nano. I think the amount of music I steal balances out with the amount of money I have to spend to get a new iPod every year. File that last sentence under "Worst Justifications Ever".

In other kinda free news, I have to work on some SXSW commercials tonight and Sunday night for a few hours, in exchange for a free $600 music badge. Which I probably won't even end up using.

I have too much shit to do today to be sitting around this morning trying to think of interesting things to say. And obviously failing.

P.S. - Brendon Walsh is the funniest motherfucker in Austin. Here he is as his alter egos, Dan Richardson and Woody. "Have a couple of frogeritas and sing 'Don't Stop Believing' the way it should be sung."

Flappy Holidays.

When was the last time I wrote anything here?

Not long enough.

Holy fuck, I need a haircut. My mom's gonna have a shit-fit when I see her tomorrow. Here's a preview...

Mom: "You're not going to Christmas dinner like that!"
Me: "Perfect."
Mom: "You're not getting out of it that easy. You're going."

Annnnnnnnnnnnnd................. scene.

Happy holidays, diary-blog-thingy.

Mega ouch.

There was a little bit of a blip yesterday in the whole "not drinking for a month" thingy.

Nice drinking, no drink.

I'm not drinking for a month. I never thought those words would come out of my mouth. Especially without the words "court ordered" attached. But my liver (and scale) need a break. They're like the Red October. They've given me 110% day in and day out, but you can only push them so far without a nuclear reaction destroying the world.

Steve sent me this and I'm pretty sure I contributed my fair share. Go, Austin, go!

America's Drunkest Cities.

Park City.

Oh, and yeah, we got into Sundance. More falling down on ice!



More can be found here in the near future... Goliath Is Missing.

Work it!

I'd like to thank my friend, Paul, for filling my email with stuff like this. I laughed my ass off at first, but after 30 or 40 viewings, it's starting to creep me out.

Thanks, jerk.

P.S. - Also, Rolando won the caption contest with "Freddie McMercury".

Penis.

Go, YouTube, go!

Best death ever.

Evel

I'm pretty sure that Kanye West poisoned Evel Knievel.

Spread it around.

Almost.

The Rockefeller Center Christmas tree was lit tonight. It's "eco-friendly", equipped with energy conserving bulbs and a bunch of solar panels on top of the Center to help power those lights.

It's completely eco-friendly except for the fact that they cut down an 84-foot-tall, 60-year-old tree.

In other news, I pretty much moved in tonight. My bed is here. My clothes are here. My books are here. My kitchen stuff (aka - bottle opener) is here.

But no tv yet. Then I'll call it home.

Tears.

I laid the Expos hat to rest this morning.

It was a good run, my friend. We saw it all, you and me. Thank you.

All the B's

I've said it before and I'll say it again.

I fucking love the nudie bar.

But the nudie bar on Thanksgiving Eve takes the cake. Those girls definitely have "daddy issues".

But who doesn't?

Corn Waffles.

I would love to explain how the site came to light and how Paul didn't know that I knew that he made it and how he even created a fake email and was posing as me and I was going to somehow extract some sort of revenge, but fuck it.

Please enjoy the Corn Waffle recipes and then scroll to the bottom.

Corn Waffles!

Truck.

The Zellners did a new video for The Octopus Project's song Truck.

Also, you can read about the whole thingy on Spin.

Life.

It's 1:15am on a Monday night and I'm sitting on the living room couch drinking whiskey and typing "sports bloopers" into the search field on YouTube.

It's pretty safe to say that it's about time that I got a girlfriend.

In other "not having a girlfriend" news, Matt sent me a link and I almost shit my pants.

BEHOLD!

Nerd Bay.

Right before I bailed for Florida, my latest 2 eBay purchases arrived. This and this.

I'm such a fucking nerd. Without being as cool as a nerd. I think they call it lame. I'm just lame.

B. McC.

I'm seriously thinking about changing my name to Boobs McCherdeler.

I was laughing an hour ago when I first thought about it, but I'm fairly serious now.

This is yet another reason why I should not drink beer as soon as I wake up. But luckily, the reasons why I should still largely outnumber the reasons I should not.

Bishop Allen

I can't wait to see Bishop Allen tonight. It'll be the fifth time I've seen them. And the fifth time I've gotten extra retarded drunk seeing them.

I'm like a little kid on Christmas morning. Who just got a stocking full of tranny porn.

Tagged.

My buddy, Mark, tagged me with 5 questions, so now I'll forward 'em on. Mark lives right around the corner from me, but I never get to actually see him, so the closest I get to contact is commenting on his baseball and film blog entries. Half my comments involve me calling him a jerk, so I think I understand why we never actually hang out.

But here we go. Also, I'm not going to specifically tag anyone. If you read this turd of a blog and have a blog yourself, go ahead and tag yourself. And email me a link.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
List 5 things that certain people (who are not deserving of being your friend anyway) may consider to be “totally lame,” but you are, despite the possible stigma, totally proud of. Own it:
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1. I love Chili's. I'll say it again. I fucking love Chili's. I love everything on the menu. I love that the restaurant is mostly booths. And they consistently have a decent beer selection.

2. Poop and fart jokes. I've been laughing for 34 years and I can't ever see stopping. Go, doo-doo, go!

3. Golf. I love to play and I love to watch. I've been playing since I was probably 8 or 9. When I'm not working, I play at least once a week. Even on the shittiest of days, when I can't keep a ball anywhere near the fairway, I'm still smiling my ass off.

4. Futurama. Most people called it a lame cartoon riding the Simpsons coattails. Most people said it wan't funny at all. To all those people, I say, I wish I had more fists. (Ed. Note - I couldn't make up my mind whether to put Mystery Science Theater 3000 in this entry or Futurama.)

5. Illegal Downloading of Music and/or Movies - Once in a blue moon, I'll feel a little guilty for downloading something that I would have bought otherwise, but for the most part, I steal shit that... A) I wouldn't have paid for anyway (I'm looking at you, Led Zeppelin) and B) Things that I can't find anywhere and are most likely out of print.

Knock Knock, part 2.

I completely forgot. While we were shooting the other day, Willie asked Owen to tell a joke...

Owen: Knock knock.

Willie: Who's there?

Owen: Willie.

Willie: Willie who?

Owen: Show business is harsh, my friend.


Editor's note: I don't know what I laughed at harder, the joke or the fact that Woody didn't get it.

King Willie.

Today, I headed out to Willie's ranch out west of town to shoot a piece for his new music video. And race tractors. And drink beer. And eat bbq.

Pretty funny. It was semi-star studded. Luke and Owen Wilson. Woody Harrelson. Jessica Simpson. Jay Chandrasekhar. And some old school country stars, who I won't name because I like them too much.

All I have to say is that I hope I don't have to take a drug test soon.

Thank you, Willie.

Ethical timeline.

8:25am - First beer opened.

8:42am - Second beer opened.

9:07am - Third (and last beer in the fridge) opened.

9:08am - Pointless blog entry created.

Today is my first day off in like 2 weeks. We spent all this week on reshoots for some craptastic movie. I won't put an IMDB link to it out of sheer embarassment. Even more embarassing is the commercial that I start on Monday. I've only turned down one job in my entire career over personal beliefs. That was an Army commercial about 2 years ago. I would have made around $2500 for a 5 day commercial. I said no.

This time around was a little different. I haven't done shit this year. I took most of the year off. But the whiskey funds started running dry a little sooner than I thought. So, as a result, all personal ethics are null and void. Unfortunately, it's only a 2 day commercial.

But I needs to get paid. The roof over my head and the damages to my liver aren't free.

Chuck E. Cheese

Thanks, Paul.

The "Chuck E. Walkaround" should be a new dirty sex move.

Hulk.

Sometimes I get angry for the stupidest reasons.

I got hold of one the Grindhouse: Death Proof DVDs a week or two before it came out. I hated working on the fucking movie. I hated the fucking movie when I saw it in the theater. I hated the fucking movie when I saw the DVD. But what I'm most angry at is the fact that my name wasn't in the credits.

Bullshit. Capitol B.

Those kids today.

Knock knock.

Who's there?

9/11.

9/11 who?

YOU SAID YOU"D NEVER FORGET!

Study.

This headline is on CNN.com right now...

Men want hot women, study confirms.

Nice work, science.

P.S. - Next study will probably be "Why do people love oxygen?"

Donkey Kong love.

We went and saw The King Of Kong last night at the theater. Because of my obsession with Donkey Kong, I might be a little biased, but holy shit, it was awesome.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about...

Pouring a glass of piss into my eyes.

I never go out on weekends. I'm not sure why. Actually, I do know why. I like to leave the weekends to amateur drinkers out there. I'm pretty much a Sunday through Thursday goer-outer.

I don't have cable. Let me get that out of the way. So, I'm pretty much at the mercy of the rabbit-ear antennae.

On Fox, right now, is America's Most Wanted starring, John Walsh, who is quite possibly the hugest douche bag on the face of the Earth. I worked on a 2 week shoot with him a year or two ago. He's a douche bag. And I reserve the term douche bag for only the biggest.

On ABC is the Mel GIbson/Goldie Hawn vehicle, Bird on a Wire. Don't confuse it with the Leonard Cohen song of the same name. The movie is like Andre the Giant kicking you in the balls. Repeatedly. While laughing at you. And punching your mom in the face.

On NBC is the smash (s)hit, America's Got Talent. I watched about 9 seconds and got diarrhea.

On CBS is the Dallas/Houston football game. I'm a huge football fan and this is about the most boring game (not to mention pre-season) you could possibly put on tv...

...until I put it to the WB channel, or whatever the fuck it is now. They have the Mariners/Rangers baseball game on, so my "most boring game" comment became instantly null and void.

I think I'm going to put it back to America's Got Talent, just so the diarrhea will give me something to kill some time before I get pissed at Saturday Night Live.

Transparent.

If you're bored and have some spare time, try this trick out.

Transparent screens.

Love. Um, no.

So, Courtney Love lost a lot of weight or something. In an interview, she said it was more of a detox than a diet.

"For many years, I took pills. I felt like I had this dirty secret," she says.

I'm not really sure that I would call it a secret there, Courtney.

My awful (drunken) philosophy.

My favorite part is when Steve says, "Nope!"...

Drinking buddy.

Last night was a little weird. I went to the Draught House for a healthy night of drinking. I guess I hadn't been in a while, because everyone there, that I hadn't seen in forever, came up and said, "Did you hear about Troy?"

Troy was a drinking buddy. Kind of. Because he rarely drank. He always came to the bar and orderd a coke. 6 months at a time. Then he would drink beers for 6 months. Then not drink for 6 months.

He was a bit of an asshole, but he liked me. He always asked what I was working on. He hated movies and celebrities and Hollywood, but he was always curious about what I did and would ask the second I sat down.

He was a racist and a jerk and an asshole. But he was always nice to me.

Actually, he was the reason that I was banned from the Draught House for about 6 months.

When he would leave, he would rev up his Harley in front of the bar. It was deafening loud, even inside. It was a jerk manuever and I got angry every time he did it.

I'll miss him.

P.S. - Oh, here's his obituary.

Nothing.

Bonds hit his ball tonight. I watched it. I felt nothing.

I didn't feel the wave of anger and hate that I thought I would. I didn't even cry like I thought I would. I didn't really think much of it at all.

The only ounce of excitement I had was trying to see which fan came up with the prize ball. And see if they would throw it back. They didn't.

I would have.

Marfa, TX

I put some pictures up from the Marfa trip.

Most of them are from the Chinati Foundation<