I had about half a page of this blog written and was about ready to start inserting some photos and I hit the backspace key to erase something (what else would the backspace key do?) AND IT BACKSPACED ME A PAGE AND WHEN I CAME BACK ALL MY MEANINGLESS DRIVEL WAS GONE!!!
So now I’m starting from friggin’-A scratch.
Sometimes machines make me crazy. Sometimes robots make me crazy. Sometimes if I don’t take my medication I get crazy.
So “Patrick and Molly and all the small things” is in the can. I hate it when people say “in the can”. There are certain film terms that I just can’t stand and “in the can” is one of them. It really has nothing to do with the fact that it sounds like you’re about to put it in the pooper, I just don’t like it. You’ll never hear me say it. Ever. Unless I’m talking to my wife.
Somehow I feel like an imposter, sitting here and rewriting the same stupid jokes that I’d written before my computer ate my draft. Oh well.
Many of you perhaps……or none of you mayhap…….are wondering what the mysterious Patrick and Molly look like? Will they be played by llamas? Are they caucasian, asian? Are they ragin’ and pagin’? Do they like to text? Will they text message you?
Let me introduce them.
PATRICK. Inventor. Last in his class (almost) and lovin’ it.
MOLLY. Photographer. Is scared of bird flu.
man oh man. What beautiful people. Let’s look at a few photos of them pretending to be a young married couple, shall we?
There were no problems on set. There really weren’t. EVERYTHING went smooth. VERY smooth. Ex-lax smooth. We’d planned for everything and everyone did their piece of the pie and the invention worked like clockwork. This neither makes for good drama OR comedy so I’m sorry. I’m sorry no one got burned by a light. I’m sorry an actor wasn’t in a car crash on the way to set. I’m sorry my house didn’t burn down and I’m sorry no one crapped their pants. This last bit happened to a friend of mine once…..
…….he was at work at went to the bathroom to drain the main vein. When he put the salamy mommy back into his shorts he accident released a bit of leftover urine and it soaked through his pants, creating a wet spot about the size of three quarters. He called his boss from the men’s room and told him he had to go home. He’d had a wardrobe malfunction.
There were no wardrobe malfunctions on set…..unless you count this:
I’ll probably begin editing the pieces in about two to three weeks and then we’ll begin posting them online about once a week or something like that.
OH WAIT!!! I DID just think of something that happened on set…
We had to leave the house for one of the setups when Patrick is stranded somewhere due to a flat tire. Poor fool. So we drove down the street about six blocks to this real industrial neighborhood.
So we were shooting next to Jade’s and mine…..Jade’s and my car…..the car that belongs to Jade and myself – our Pontiac Vibe – when we saw these two Volksvagoons.
Jade suggested using one of them as the prop car rather than our own – just have Patrick stand next to it, we’ll fire a few shots off and roll out……so we did….
…and then we heard this deep rusty voice say, “DON’T TOUCH MY CAR!”
…and we all looked around and no one knew where it was coming from so we just proceeded.
And then another rumbling and this drunken bum – someone who certainly could have played a Santa Clause type character emerged from the trash heap that was his home across the street. No shirt (no pants?) and sticks his head out from between two wrought iron gates and says, “DON’T TOUCH MY CAR!”
Matt – our cameraman – speaks up and asks if we can just shoot here if we don’t touch his car. The brute tells us that we can but if we touch his car he’ll come out and “bash our skulls in”.
He was pleasant.
We came back, unscathed, had some dinner and finished off the day.
I really like the above photo of Matt, Scott and Vanilla Ice.
Anyway, that’s that. I don’t really know what else to say. I was CERTAIN I would have tons and tons and tons of things to say once I got going but really…..that’s about it.
I’m just going to take these photos and lay them in one after the other for your viewing pleasure.
Here’s me pretending to be creative. Please don’t judge me because my pointer finger looks like it belongs on The Penguin.
Blurry people doing things.
A real life Ryan Reyes playing real life Super Mario Bros. We turned the system on and everyone was drawn to it like flies. Everyone was telling him where the secrets were, “jump here – jump there! Go down THAT pipe!”
Girls don’t like video games. Girls like doing bills and washing dishes.
This is Ryan being a creepy pedophile looking character…I didn’t write this.
Givin’ a fist bump to The Fist.
Lacy’s torso, Nellie and Serrone our sound guy (pronounced Sir-ownee, like macaroni). This one time I was digging around in the fridge, searching for a refreshing beverage when he asked me for a Diet Coke. I gave him one. He said I should probably give him two because he was really thirsty. I gave him two but thought, “man, it’s going to get warm fast – you should really just leave it in the fridge”. But he’s a grown man, he can do what he wants with his own soda. So we kept shooting and wrapped the set about five minutes later. Once we’d cleared out I noticed two empty Diet Coke cans on the stove. This guy knew how to drink the DC and I respect him for that.
Second to last setup of the final day. The last time I was in a bathtub filled with men I was in college and experimenting.
Final setup. We’d all taken an ice cream sandwich break just before this. Gotta keep everyone happy!…..actually, there’s a chemical in ice cream that makes people happy. It’s called Terramagestarin. It affects your brain.
Two editors pretending they’re not editors.
And THAT…….is all. That’s everything. These photos, plus possibly a few more will end up on the JRP website shortly as will the videos once they’re completed, so stay tuned for that.
Oh yeah – and that nightshift job I told you about – the one that wanted me to start IMMEDIATELY and I said no, no, no because I had to shoot Patrick and Molly? Well I got it!
Who says you can’t have your cake and eat it too?