 |
|
 |
|
 Latest
|
Diaryland |
|
2003-07-26 - 10:52 a.m. My site gets more and more google porno hits everyday. "Cameltoes" "Horny moms that like to...." Oh, wait a minute! Because THAT'S ALL I WRITE ABOUT!!!! Damn, what in the hell was I thinking?! Anyways, last night, rubbing elbows backstage with John Waters and Vince Peranio.....blah blah blah. I see them every few months it seems. Good people, a playful and hilarious interview, it was all good. If Daemonchild is listening, I wish you could of been there, volunteering for me. It seems I'm not really engulfed in the scene or care to be, eventhough it's nice to ponder-If I'm walking around these creative kinda people day in and day out, it gives more of an incentive to be creative and there's almost like some sort of creativity diffusion going on in a solid body of Bmore and at times, I'm standing in ground zero. It's still exciting to be around such influential people because if it wasn't, I wouldn't be here. But it's best when it's fresh and even better when it's wetter, yaknowhatimsayin?!?!? An audience member asked, "When you guys aren't making film, do you have any other passions?" John Waters replies wittily, ".....Poppers." Nick and I saw a fight before the show, getting coffee from across the street. It was so weird. They were yelling at each other when we crossed the street and 3 minutes later, they poured out into the street onto a hood of a car and back to a curb where this guy got pummeled in the face Ultimate Fighting Style and then got his head stomped by the other guy's Timberland Boot. When I saw the guy get stomped on, I got worried. The fight stopped after that, I bet the other guy knew what he had done and the last bit of humanity that lingered in his body told him to stop. There was 3 kids cheering them on anxious to see something violent and two other guys that looked like Dr. Mario and the retarded guy from OZ respectively. The way Nick and I talked about it in the coffee store was surreal enough. I couldn't realize why I didn't help or why I was talking like it was some sort of play by play during the fight and commentating on it afterwards. Nick said the last fight he saw was in High School and that's what it felt like, High School all over again. We told everybody that we stumbled across that night. I sat there with Nick, with our double-double espressos explaining what that guy shouldn't of done and what I would of done in the science of fighting. If you fight enough, you realize logic gets thrown out the window and some survivalistic urge kicks in and a beatdown usually occurs like the one we saw. I said to myself, I wouldn't of let him grapple me like that and throw me to the ground. Hyperextend a knee, break a wrist or arm, strike to the groin, poke in the eye. We laughed at the hillbilly shit we witnessed when they were taking off their shirts and yelling at each other with the 3 fat kids jumping up and down, then we saw that beatdown, got worried until he got up, and then started talking about it like it was Friday Night Fights or something. Every week we go to Bmore, Nick and I see something that we cannot forget without difficulty that further reinforces the definition of what Bmore is in our hugely pulsating monstrousities of our minds. God knows what happens next week.
|
|
 |
|
