Endings

Well, another crack at the knees and a scheduled trip and it doesn’t look like this script will be finished for another six weeks. That’s okay though, had lots of time to think during the excruciatingly long drives and just today I’ve had an “a ha” momement. Gotta love those.

Oh well. Time to also start thinking of a new script. Ideas fly by and if I don’t write them down, they fly away. It’s hard catching those things. They always come at the wrong time, teasing me because they know I don’t have a pen and paper. But at least they come. And I’m still watching for them.

Don’t know if I’ll make my deadline, I have a good excuse to not make it, but I don’t like using excuses. I could go to Europe with no plans and make deadline or make the plans and miss the deadline. For me, no plans is fun, but I’m not going by myself. This might not be fun for them. It would be interesting though.

Posted by KillerDollie

Butterfly

This is for a friend. A very special friend. For whom butterflies reach the soul.

“Feeling breathless
Sweet air fills my lungs
and makes me dizzy as I race after.
The butterfly bobs on invisible crests of wind.

In the gold spectacled tress with blackened bark
fresh from an early morning shower?
By the swaying stalks of grass and wild flowers
that keep time to a fond old song?
In the paper blue sky that comforts us from the
blackness? I spin around and around, drunk on the dripppings of honeysuckle in the air.

Ah.
Swirling. Fluttering. Disappearing in between
the hard midday shadows and swaying luminescent
green hands of an oak tree.

Intricate webs andloops on his wings stretched
like raindrops in the wind.
Yellow and marron glow like a specter in the
night. The stained glassed windows of the outodoor
cathedral. He dances by my fingertips. Free.

As he waves his painted canvases up and down,
against the splashes of wind,
I imagine his smudged wings between my fingers,
smeared with his sparkling grey magic.
His silent scream rails me like a tidal wave
sending me over the cliffs from paradise.

I follow the butterfly’s cascading flight of
freedom toward the flossy green meadow where it
meets with another.
They flutter together playfully as I marvel at
the pure blue sky”.

Taken by: Butterly poems

Posted by HoneyBunny

Yassou Sarbel

I’m in a writing vacuum. I mean total blankness. My mind is totally drained out. If it was surgically operated they would find THE absolute chaos.

 When I’m like this I like to do things that put me at ease. That keep me distracted. Like watching a movie (which sometimes fails to sooth me and stresses me out even more reminding me I should be writing instead, just like that screenwriter did before his pages became moving images), or reading an educational book (who am I kidding? Since when the National Enquirer is considered educational), or listening to music.

So, tonight, Saturday night. There’s no way I write, I have come to terms with it a long time ago. I want to watch TV. It’s a big night for Europe. It’s Eurovision night. The entire continent is grooving to the sound of the songs each European country participates in this institution with. I’m here, with a huge bowl of popcorn (tradition dictates Eurovision nights go with popcorn. If you don’t have popcorn, they have to kill you) and a bottle of Diet Coke.

We have entered with  Sarbel and his catchy “Yassou Maria”. We are proud of him. We want him to shine just like he always does. We wish him the best. When he gets on the stage the whole stadium is rocking. He’s got the touch and he knows it. Surrounded by four leggy female dancers (no comments. I pretended they were not there) he gives the audience the best of himself.

And he made it. Our boy made it. He won the 7th place among 40 participating European countries. Exit polls said he’d make 12th-15th place. He proved them wrong. 7th place, a great achievement for a poor, little southern country. A great achievement for a young boy who had to compete mega stars.

At least my not-writing big, fat excuse had a wonderful outcome. I’m so happy. And… there’s no more popcorn left in the bowl. Those leggy dancers… THEY ate it.

Posted by HoneyBunny

Starbucks – The Real Colonel Sanders?

I decided to go out for a Starbucks coffee today and while in line decided to radically change my order to a hot chocolate, completely disregarding the caffeine hit I was there for in the first place.

Anyways, I order, got my hot chocolate, started drinking and holy bejeezus I nearly choked on the heavy think hot chocolate that is allegedly a “famous” beverage at Starbucks  (if you read the wall board menu, they say it is famous).

 Any of you tried one of those suckers?  I am telling you, it is strong, way way strong thick chocolaty strong, in a way that makes me wonder whether they make it on fudge instead of syrup. 

 Being the ever proud google surfer I am, I came home and immediately googled Starbucks Hot Chocolate to see what the hell they put in this device of the devil.  For the record, I found nothing, just every man and his aunty’s recipe for hot chocolate, making the Starbucks Hot Chocolate recipe as elusive as the eleven herbs and spices KFC has taunted us with for years.

Posted by:  The Kid

Curse of the Saxons

I watched Tristan and Isolde last night.  It was on the cable movie channel and I was just hanging about at around at 8.30 and thought why the hell not?

This movie was advertised as a Romeo and Juliet type flick.  I actually think the tagline was something like “Before Romeo and Juliet, there was Tristan and Isolde”.  Anyhow, I am watching this movie and about ten minutes in work out it is really more of a Braveheart type flick with a romantic tormented undertone throughout it.

This discovery immediately pisses me off.

You see, I have an issue with these kind of undertones in movies.  I like the sword fights.  I like the setting, costumes, dialect, everything thematic basically.  But what I can’t stand is when movies make you sit for three hours engaged in a story that you know is only going to end badly.  Only going to end in tragedy.  Romantic tragedy.  Sure the village or kingdom will flourish, but time has told us that one of the romantic leads must die for that to be the case.

 If you don’t believe me, go back through time kids.  Every movie where the Irish and British are fighting and the word “Saxon” is used,  lead romantic characters must perish in order to save the Kingdom, goats and children. 

I wish for once a movie would end in the kingdom falling to miserable disarray and instead the romance between the leads surviving.  Because let’s face it, we do not get attached to the Kingdom in the 3 hours it takes to tell a tale like this, we get attached to the two romantic leads. 

So please, for once, try keeping them alive.  And together. 

 Posted by:  The Kid

Five People Got Cut

So that wedding in New Orleans that stopped the big mo I had going (finishing the screenplay) actually turned out to be a good thing. I met some filmmakers (who would have thought?), in fact the groom was one of them. How could I not know my cousin was marrying a filmmaker? He just moved back to New Orleans from Hollywood.

Besides a little networking, I spent a lot of time just taking it easy and listening to people talk. The rhythm of the language in New Orleans is melodious. I love hearing it, and of course it helps with the the script since some of the scenes are set there. The word choices are unique. For instance, I’d ask people if they had any damage from the hurricane and if they had flooding they would say, “We took in three feet of wawtuh.”

I like reading small newspapers from small towns in Louisiana to get juicy dialogue. Here’s one about a stabbing in a nightclub: Five people got cut. That is not a quote from a witness, those were the writer’s words.

After getting home, my husband goes out of town and I have a whole day and night to do nothing but write. What a gift, huh? No. The power went out for about 12 hours. It was hell because it was at night and I burn the midnight oil. At the same time, it was good because I’m writing scenes about the people losing power in New Orleans after Katrina. I had a lot of time to think about a lot of things such as how fucking dark it is when all the lights are out. How boring it gets. How people gather in the streets to try to get information. How I really need a radio with batteries (Oops). How entertaining watching a house burn down can be when there ain’t shit to do without electricity. I went back three different times to watch that shit, no kidding.

Hopefully, these things that seem like bad luck will bring about an improvement in the script. I think it will. I’ve already come up with a better ending.

Posted by: KillerDollie

When Government Fucking Rocks

The government today announced that it is changing its national symbol to a CONDOM because it more accurately reflects government’s political stance.  A condom allows for inflation, halts production, destroys  the next generation, protects a bunch of pricks, and gives you  a sense of security while you’re actually being screwed.  Damn, it just doesn’t get more accurate than that.

Posted by HoneyBunny