Thursday, August 7, 2008

Honest to Blog, you guys!

I’m just like a young Diablo Cody, y’all (except older)! It’s true! Think about it. We’re both sassy young things from the midwest, aspiring writers who do things on stages to pay the bills. All tatted up? You’d better believe it, daddio! And we both blog! Honest to motherfucking blog! What else, we both have kids? Nah, I don’t know about that…Oscars? Hmm…Okay, we both have arms that look too manly for a tight red cocktail dress? Ding ding ding ding ding! That’s the sound of another match, people! Man, my baby didn’t sleep at all last night and I was up late working on my screenplay. It’s about a pregnant man who, through snappy dialog and the help of his zany friends and aquaintences, decides, fuck it man, I’m pushing this baby out through my dickhole and giving it the chance it needs. Much like Juno, it’s already got some copycat pregnancies…high profile ones. Did you hear about the pregnant man? (By the way, not to be insensitive to the issues that face our transgender neighbors, but that person is simply NOT a pregnant man. It’s a titless pregnant woman with a light beard. Much less exciting when it’s told like it is). Oh, spare me. I know the poor ‘pregnant man’ was already dragged through the limelight kicking and screaming a few months ago (‘Oprah, I hope my neighbors aren’t looking out their windows, or at televisions, or internet, or buying magazines, or walking by the magazines that I’m on the cover of with the headline 'pregnant man'…I really don’t want them to know about this’...well, as long as they're Amish, they won't, pregnant man), and I’m not interested in revisiting that too much, after all, who am I? The fat, pre diet Perez Hilton, (as opposed to the gross, tubby post diet Perez of today) reporting on things that are so six months ago? Hello? But, okay, I need to say something because the pregnant man and my screenplay further link me to Diablo Cody, my other half.
Did you say she’s writing about vampires next? Highschool horrors? Me too! That’s such a great coincidence. Strangely enough, my own nom de plume is Demonio Tex, which is kind of like hers, right? It’s so weird, but the coincidences don’t end there, guys! We’ve both got dark hair, two legs, big wieners, supple thighs, pet lizards, a love of campell soup’s extra chunky “twice baked potato’ and a close relationship with our grandmothers. Come to think of it, have you ever seen us in the same room? Getting photographed together? I haven’t. I think I may be onto something.
Eh, how many people out there do this kind of thing? It’s like that Adam Sandler dude from my improv class that I was writing about the other day. People see success and they just ape the successful people completely, down to the tiniest detail, and it’s sad. That pregnant man was at least doing her own thing. The next closest thing is probably Buck Angel, and you should really check him out, but you should probably wait until you’re home from work to do so.
But anyway, how many young bloggers out there are blogging in combination with writing a screenplay about pregnancy because it worked for Diablo Cody? About a billion. There are no ideas left, people. It’s time to throw art into the fire and just stick to taping ourselves giving and receiving blowjobs and call it a day.
Have you heard that band Jet? There you go. God is dead.


Andrew said...

i think that to some extent all the "good ideas" have been used already in some form another, but there is still a possibility for uniqueness. The changes just have to become more detailed and miniscule.
I mean comon, doesn't brendan frasier have anything better to do then to make a sequel to a movie that wasn't even all that successful 6 years ago? its all the same garbage repeated over and over in hollywood

tyler said...

I think this is your best entry yet. I was just talking about this the other day. It seems like it's almost impossible for a wholly original movie (not a sequel or a remake or a movie based on a comic book) to be a huge success. But I have no idea why that's true. Do you?

Also, I was wondering if you have an opinion on the Max Bemis musician for hire story...

Candice said...

buck angel scares the living shit out of me.

Robb said...

A trivial anecdote--
So my friend Adam was in the Windy City the other week. One night he stopped in Huettenbar (sp?) in Lincoln Square, where he met a bartender chick whom is apparently a good friend (or perhaps just lower-tier acquaintance) of yours. Anyhow, soon after the encounter she was apparently successful in persuading you to sign a dollar bill for him, on which you wrote a brief but decidedly friendly message. You may or may not remember the recent signing of this soggy (or maybe it was crisp as all get-out?) sheet of U.S. currency, but Adam sends his sincere thanks. (I even told him, "Be sure not to just keep it in your wallet, so as not to carelessly SPEND the signed dollar!!" hahahaAA-HAHAA!~!!) Ohh, meee.

And these blogs are bona fide comedial/philosophical/transcendental gold; all at once. But you knew that.

Anonymous said...

If you include a shot of the baby actually coming out the dickhole, Troma might distribute it. This is not an attempted insult towards Troma, just an idea.

P.S Don't Write said...

oh god, why is Max Bemis everywhere?

or maybe I'm just old, slow and strange.

Anonymous said...

thank god someone else understands the pregnant [wo]man thing.

sublimeluvinme said...

Bukowski said it best, “There is a time to stop reading, there is a time to STOP trying to WRITE, there is a time to kick the whole bloated sensation of ART out on its whore-ass.”