Sunday, September 25, 2011

48 Hour Film Fest

Four friends and I entered the 48 hour film fest. We showed up Friday night, paid the $50 and got our package. We picked a genre out of a hat. Time travel. Cool. Then they announced the other elements we had to include:

Prop - A piece of chalk
Character - Stephanie or Steve Palmer, a chef
Line - Something's not right

We left the theater at about 730 and went to Maccers to hash out an idea (Maccers is australian for McDonald's) Several ideas went around the table. Going into the future to find out what people will order before they do, going into the past to take credit for creating the world's best dishes, a bucket of chicken that lets you travel through time...

We settled on not too distant future where all the world's chickens are destroyed by avian flu, and a mad scientist who just wants an omlette.

We shot near the school in Redfern. Think forest lawn but with crazy people, drunks and assholes wandering around everwhere drunk. While shooting on one corner we had to stop because a screaming match broke out between a guy on one side of the street, and the butcher on the other side. After that we had to stop because a small aboriginal man decided we had "killed all the indians and were stealing from the abo's"

So I made an executive decision to move to our shot inside the nearby store. We grabbed the gear and moved inside. Buddy then stood outside and screamed at us through the windows. Sweet.

We got our shots and moved outside again. This time a car screeched to a stop so the passenger could lean out and yell "You're the ugliest mother fuckers I've ever seen" This coming from a toothless fat man.

Tired of this we moved up the street to get another shot. About 10 mins in a carload of tradies from the nearby construction site drove by and screamed "You fucking faggots" and spit at us. SPIT at us. FFS. Who spits on people. We wrapped after that.

We ended up getting the movie edited in the car on the way to the drop off point. We arrived just in time to drop off the film and headed home. We watched it complete for the first time at Maccers on the way home. It's not too bad. I'll post it up here soon.

Being true to one's self

I've heard people say that, if you want someone to like you, you should just be yourself and speak from the heart. I think that's good advice. Unless you're weird. Then you should hold back a little at first, and ease into being yourself.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

National Beer

Oh, so after my food rant I thought I'd hit up a beer rant. Not really a rant. A, noticement. Yes. Something I've noticed. Every country has a beer. Most have several.

In Canada we have several. There are the big breweries, Labatts, Molson, Moosehead, Keiths, and smaller microbrews putting out gems like Propeller, Thirsty Beaver, Innis & Gun and probably thousands of others. Unfortunately the Americans have started sending their sexing in a canoe northbound. I read recently that Budweiser, the king of awful swamp piss, is now the number one beer in the country. I blame that fully on drunken asshole wannabe cowboys during Stampede who believe that the superbowl Clydesdales really have something to do with beer. In Canada you say cheers by clinking your glasses together and saying "cheers!". Or, if you're French "Sante", or even "Salut", which is what the Italians say. I don't know what their beer is.

In Cape Breton you might say Slainte, due to the desperate clinging to celtic roots they're doing there.

In france we drank this stuff called 1853 or something like that. French beer isn't great.

In thailand they had 3 major beers i noticed. Chang, Shingai and Tiger? maybe. I know there was a third. You say cheers there by saying "Chok-tee" In Cambodia it was Ankor. Truely great beer. I had so much I don't remember how to say cheers there.

I have several Swedish friends here in Aus. They say Skaal, which sort of sounds like Skoal. Here in Aus there are several major beer labels. VB seems to be a working class beer. Its good I think. There's Tooeys, XXXX, and Carleton as well. They have many smaller breweries making some really great beers. They say cheers here.

I met a girl from Austria this summer and we hung out for a few days. They speak german there. She told me that they say Prost, which is specific to cheersing beer. There is another for wine, and yet another for good health. Too much work. Prost it is.

The most common beer in the world is Henekein, which is dutch. They say Proost. Thats easy to remember. They're close to the germans, so is their cheers.

On that note, I'm about to have a corona with my fajita! Salud!! (Spanish for cheers)

The Australian National Food

Australia doesn't have a 'food'. You go anywhere around the world and there tends to be a national dish, or, in larger countries, regional dishes. Now I love food. I love going to places and finding new food. So travelling around recently has been a bit of a treat food wise.

In Thailand we had tons and tons of Pad Thai,  and in the South, Massaman Curry. In Cambodia I discovered Lok Lak, this amazing, sort of Lemon Grass curry. In England I had fish n' chips and scones, in France I had baguettes, wine and cheese, and amazing 4 and 5 course dinners. In Scotland I tried haggis. Never again.

Back in North America there is a huge diversity in regional food ownership. In Canada we've taken maple syrup, donuts and bacon as our own (bacon in the rest of the world is not the same.) America has the hot dog.

In New Brunswick we have poutine and lobster. La Belle Province also lays claim to pouting, and the dubious honour of being the fattest province. The only separation going on there is the mitosis of engorged fat cells. Alberta has steak. Oxford NS has blueberry pie. Newfoundland has boiled dinners, cod cheeks and flipper pie. In the southern US the barbecue is so good it could make a man weep, and different places have a different idea of what BBQ is. Books have been written on the subject. I had bbq in Austin that made me question the existence of time itself. Texas has Tex-Mex. San Francisco has crab places dotting the wharf. Chicago has pizza. New Orleans has Jumablia (I've never been, but apparently the food in NO is amazing and diverse).

Poor ol' Australia doesn't seem to have their own dish. The pubs all serve schnitzel. But thats German. You can get Kangaroo, but its not really popular. It's good, not popular. So I think Australia needs to work on creating a national dish. I don't know what it could be but they need to get on it. There are millions of Kangaroo, so that is a front runner. Most people don't eat it though. I've yet to see it on the menu here. Shark are becoming endangered so thats not a good choice for mass consumption. I think killing Koala's is illegal...Look, I'm not saying I have the answer. I'm just saying they need to have a think about it and come up with an answer. And schnitzel doesn't count. Ok, i'm off to have a fajita.

Petit Miam

jerry-maguire-kid.jpgmultipacks.aspx.jpgIf there's two things I hate its child actors and the French butchering the English language. Let's face it. Most child actors are awful. Except for that kid in the 6th Sense maybe. There might be another one who wasn't bad. But for the most part, they're about as good as the artwork they bring home forcing their dutiful parents to litter their refrigerators with so much wax covered refuse.

And the French. For the love of God, it's TH. Not D. How hard is that really? I mean, LITTLE kids can pronounce TH. You're telling me an adult Frenchman can't press his tongue against is front teeth and blow? You're not even trying!

In all honesty, the French accent isn't as hot as it is in the movies. There are a few rare exceptions. I had a 23 year old blonde neighbour who managed to make it sound like a chorus of drunken pillow fighting angels. But thats it.

france-flag.gifWell, the two banes of my existence collided recently when a television station here in Aus started showing an ad for some sort of kid-targeted yogurt. The premise is this: They named the yogurt Petit M'iem, which is damn near impossible for a four year old to say. So they hire a four year old to say it. Over and over. He stumbles and stutters through a rambling story about the benefits of this fruit filled vomitous dairy cocktail. Each time he gets to the stupid product name, and stuffs it up, his older, obnoxious, precocious sister corrects him. Smug little brat. If I wanted to hear a stuttering French kid talk about dairy I'd go to france and find some special school for kids with speech impediments, slosh my way through the saliva coated floors and find some poor wretched farm kid and ask him what le Vache does.

Honest to God, if the representive from Yoplait were here right now, I would throw them in a pit in my basement and force them to eat gallons of shitty yogurt that I would serve to them via a basket on a string. If they didn't eat it they would get the hose.

Here is an open letter to Yoplait. Dear Yoplait. Fuck off. The Petit Miam ads; not cute. Annoying. I hope your marketing person gets some sort of lactose intolerance disorder that causes severe bloating and noxious gas when they even think about yogurt.

Monday, September 12, 2011

I yelled at a homeless person

I'm usually pretty laid back, but every once in a while someone really pisses me off. Tonight, on the way home from the grocery store, this really drunk dude comes up to me, quite quickly, and starts asking for change, I said no sorry, and he stepped in front of me and told me to give him a chip (there was a bag of chips at the top of my grocery bag) I said no again. He stepped in my way again. So, I don't know why, but I yelled at him and told him to get the fuck out of my way.

Anyway, that lead to him following me down the street asking me where exactly my way is that he should get the fuck out of, screaming that he was going to kick my ass, telling me to suck my own dick and, at least once throwing a very dramatic karate kick to illustrate how exactly proficient his ass kicking skills are.
He almost fell  over.  The drunken homeless aren't that flexible.

Ska Weekender

I saw a poster for a "Ska Weekender" Turned out it was a boat ride along the harbour with 4 ska bands playing as we went along. I called some friends and convinced 7 other folks to go with me. We had a bbq at a friend's place at 11.  It was great, burgers, sausages, corn on the cob...perfect.

We hit the peir at 2. The instructions on the tickets were vague, didn't say exactly which pier we were supposed to go to. It didn't take long to figure out the pier surrounded by kids with cheap fedoras, bowlers, mohawks and suspenders was the right one.

We loaded up and were out on the harbour by about 2:30. For the next 4 hours we got to listen to some pretty solid ska. One group even had a 3 piece brass section which was very cool. About half way along some jackass started a fight so they let him off at the nearest dock. Of course he wandered up the stairs from the dock with his shirt off, waving his arms in the air like he'd won something. I love stupid.

The rest of the cruise was alot of fun. We ended up back at the wharf just as the sun was coming down. We hit an afterparty for a bit then hooked up with friends at an irish place. Pretty good night all in all!

Here's pics:

The Adventures of Jimmy NoShoes: Dangar Island

A friend mentioned, what seems a lifetime ago, this little island an hour away where a bunch of artist live. They have a jam night the first Friday of each month. Over the last few months we've tried to make it up there but its never happened, too busy with school.

Right now a few of us are waiting to hear if our script ideas will be selected to be made into short films by the school, so we have some down time. (My script is not being considered at the moment, because, obviously, the people that run the school are not only incredibly stupid, but they have no sense of humour).

I got a text the other day, "Platform 9, 6:45" I headed down around 6:30 and ran into my friends heading the other way through the tunnel at central station. There was an accident somewhere up the track, and after some confusion (we sent our talled swede to figure it all out) we eventually got on the right train. We arrived at our stop, Brooklyn. Deserted. No people, no ferry, just a place to sit. We found a phone number for a water taxi and booked a trip across, for about 3 times the cost of the ferry. Supply and demand.

We arrive on Dangar island around 9...ish. We wandered a short distance to the lawn bowling club, thats where jam night is. There are no cars on the island, it's quiet, you can see all the stars, dogs run free. It was pretty cool. We ran into a lady who's friends with my buddy Dan. She took care of our bags and stuff for us and we enjoyed some music. The talent was pretty amazing. One girl got up and played some dixie chicks songs and was incredible. Then they broke out the digereedoo for some weird experirmental jazzy kind of stuff.

When they closed the place down they let us get some to beer to go and we were invited to go hang at Jimmy No Shoes place. Jimmy's an artist, and an former sound engineer. I'm not sure if there was electricity there, but he did have goon, which is a nasty boxed wine they have here. We sat and chatted and about life, and sound and the little island we were on.  Eventually someone came and brought us to a new party.

At the second party we sat around a fire and drank beer, while someone played the guitar (it wasn't me but it was still good). Later, the digereedoo guy from the bar started playing. It was a really cool relaxing evening. Eventually we moved down to the beach to watch the sun come up.

We left a note at our host's place at about 730 am and headed down to the dock to catch the ferry. We had to take a couple of buses home because the trains weren't running.  We stopped at a great breakfast place on the way home and got bacon n' egg rolls.

Pretty good weekend.