Classic Satan #2

Arcturus wanted another Satan Post, who am I to deny a man on his birthday. Strap yourselves in...

Satan is sometimes purty!

Murder, accident or otherwise...

Who the hell knows, they're all possible, but the hardly surprising fact remains, Brian is dead.

I actually didn't think it would take this long, I've known him for seven years and he always played the game of life a little loose and hard. I probably wanted him dead on several occasions myself. Not that it's an unusual reaction to someone like Brian. Don’t worry, the feeling was mutual I'm sure, doesn't mean we didn't have our moments.

The first day I met Brian he was a fat, naked, sweating, unconscious mass lying next to a pair of khaki shorts on the red carpet of our luxury apartment complex foyer. There's always a moment when confronted with a sight like that where you honestly don't know what to do, ignore it, check his pulse, throw up, call an ambulance, nah, I'd seen him dropping empty vodka bottles in a bin out by the rose garden most mornings and with the fairly safe assumption he was maggoted I did the only thing a rational young musician (which I was at the time) could do. I pulled his front door shut, the dead bolt gave a nice resounding click, and then I stole his shorts.

Stop judging me! I had a 'new' second-hand 16mm film camera upstairs and my balcony looked onto his courtyard. As I lit my first cigarette and waited for Brian to appear I mused on the fact that my new film 'fat, naked, sweating, drunk man breaking into own flat' was definitely the funniest thing I was ever going to film, certainly worthy of my new hobby. As it played out he appeared 15 minutes later accompanied by the raised voice of another neighbour and disappeared through his patio door so quickly that I didn't even have the chance to get the camera up to speed. What kind of drunk leaves his back door ope... oh never mind.

The story could have ended there, and when drunk enough I'd proudly recount the time I stole a guys shorts and locked him out of his flat, but then I'd have never met Brian. As much as you can live without someone like Brian they have the uncanny ability to teach life’s most valuable lessons. Probably the most important being how to make more money in a single night, any night, than most of you will earn in a month. That night I was due for my first lesson.

I'd been out and come back again, flaming Sambucas and trying my hardest to play keep up with a Jazz band that was well above my league - trust me, blue flaming, liquorice flavoured elderberry juice is no excuse for pulling out an octave short during a flute solo, no-one will notice except the guys and girls you're playing with but it's their shit you have to cop later in the night - so, there I was feeling a little drunk and dejected, and sitting on my balcony smoking cigarettes while slowly getting into a state that my friends would later call 'Horse' drunk, when I noticed a fair amount of noise coming from Brian's flat. At first I thought it was the TV until I hear Brian yell, "I don't have your fucking money because I lost my fucking wallet", followed by the sound of a crash and Brian, now dressed, making an appearance into his courtyard via a closed glass door.

Now I don't know about you, but when confronted with something like this there's a moment when you honestly don't know what to do, ignore it, call the police, get your camera, or throw up because YOU stole HIS fucking wallet. I lurched inside to where his shorts were lying across the back of a dining room chair, thrust my hand into the back pocket, fuck, I open his wallet, fuck, quickly count the huge stack of notes, fuck, five large... yes, that's right, I stole FIVE THOUSAND fucking dollars from a fat, naked, sweating, unconscious mass.

I was out of the flat and pounding at his door before I even realised what I was doing. Oh shit, what was I going to say? Ummm, how about, OH SHIT! Half a second before I turned to walk away the door opened. "What the fuck do you want?". I don't know if it was because this guy was all of five feet or the huge amount of alcohol in my system or maybe a strange combination of both but I simply said "I want to smoke a fucking cigarette on my balcony without listening to this dipshit plead for his life" the guy looked me up and down "And?". Bloody good question. Not one that I was really expecting. Then a polite voice that I hardly recognised as my own said "And... well... and how much does it cost me to make you go away?". I had five thousand dollars in my pocket and I wasn't afraid to use it. So I paid the guys their 5 grand and in return, after three very large gentlemen and the midget had left, Brian gave me his watch and said he'd pay me back the following day.

Which he did, there was NO way I was about to explain to a drunk with rough friends that I'd stolen his pants, I'm not stupid, well, OK, stupid and drunk enough to put myself in the middle of a scary situation but not so dumb as to let them know it was my fault... and anyway five grand to a struggling Musician is almost enough to cover your monthly beer bill. That afternoon was the first time I got drunk with Brian, where I found out that he was 'sort of' in the film business and the first time he told me that if I ever touched his watch again he'd bury me alive and dance on my grave.

Well, not surprisingly, he got there first. Here's a photo of not-so-fat-Brian on the set of one of my films, it's the way I saw him most.

We had the reading of his Will yesterday*, all I got was this... and a note saying "I never could dance".

RIP you dipshit! So what was the best gift you ever got from a dead guy? or you could just leave a comment or question.

* Obviously that was some time ago now.

England, All at Sea... without a Paddle.

English selectors announce reshuffle
Wednesday, November 27 2006 14:37 Hrs (EST)
By ThatsNotCricket Special Correspondent

Brisbane: English chairman of selectors David Graveney, who witnessed todays crushing 277 run defeat of England by the Australian XI, has announced that a reshuffle of Englands starting line-up will be necessary before the second Ashes test due to start in Adelaide on Friday. He has stated that are "looking for more experience in both our batting and bowling attacks".

The Dad's Army tag levelled at the Australians seems to have inspired Mr Graveney as he announced the recall of one Englands legendary test Allrounders. Mr Graveney believes the "... innate skill with bat and ball, maturity, and experience of W G Grace (pictured below) will far outway his lack of recent Test exposure due to his death in the early part of last century. The Australians thrashed England despite the criticisms that the Australians were too old so I'm assuming that Australia will have no answer against a decomposed 158 year old."

In other news, English chairman of selectors David Graveney committed for psychiatric treatment follow devestating start to the English Ashes campaign.

My first and last ever Tag...

I hate Tags. They always strike me as something a blogger does when there's nothing else to write about. But, other than the work I have been doing for The Mill (or not be doing depending on my procrastination levels) to get it satisfactorily ready for the largest one day film festival in the world, Tropfest, I have nothing else to write about...

So as asked for by Ticharu here are 9 things people might find interesting.

9. I rarely take myself seriously enough to achieve anything or convince anyone else I can achieve anything. When I do achieve something, it's a nice surprise for everyone.

8. I am ambidextrous. I am equally illegible with both hands, and feet for that matter, when I write. I carry a notebook with me everywhere. My notebooks need a decoder ring. Seriously, I'm sure it's a good story or idea, I just need to know what the hell is written on the page.

7. I would like to produce and/or direct at least one film in every genre. Which makes Ang Lee my favourite Director to date as he's well on the way to proving it can be done.

6. When I was in my pre-teens, all I ever wanted to be when I grew up was a Renaissance Man or Polymath. I was an odd child. I'd still like to be one but now in my adulthood I'd be lucky if I considered myself a Philomath. Although this desire is what lead me to do film as you need to be proficient at many artistic and technically endeavours to be considered average.

5. I feel sorry for people who perpetuate the rediculous notion that an adult producing shows for children should appear to be as innocent as a child in the public arena. Being a Wiggle would suck, I've seen them asked adult questions in interviews and they're afraid to answer them in case it hurts their marketability. I believe expressing adult opinions to other adults has no bearing on the content of a show produced for children as those views have absolutely nothing to do ones ability to use their imagination in the same way they did when they were a child.

4. I think Marijuana is one of the most powerful emotional tools humans have ever encountered but I take an anti-drug stance on it's use because I've found it is a very rare person indeed who has even the slightest notion how to use it properly. Looks up, see I'm not allowed that opinion if I produce shows for children... weird, OK, OK, [robotic voice] Drugs are bad [/robotic voice] whatever!

3. I have no formal qualifications but have regularly been chosen for jobs over people who have completed many years of study. People are regularly surprised when they find out that I'm an uneducated buffoon. That surprise soon turns to anger if they find out I earn more than them and all their fancy skool'n.

2. They say there's 6 degrees of seperation between you and any other person on earth. There is a maximum of 1 degree seperation between myself and the 10 richest and/or most powerful people in the world. I find the notion humorous, particuarly because it has no effect on my life whatsoever. I was born blue-collar and I'll probably die that way (or at least a whiter shade of blue). I am not an opportunist. Which probably makes me more than a little silly considering that I've been at a dinner where one of Australias richest individuals asked the waitress how much she owed on her mortgage and then wrote her a cheque for that amount as the tip. But the people who I have encountered who are opportunists make me cringe. No thanks.

1. Hmmm, what else, I find myself in the right place at the right time so often I sometimes forget it's unusual, wait, no, ummm, I talk to animals as if they were human and believe if you listen closely they answer back, wait, no, ummm, My bank account number is... 1040xxxxxxxx HA! You wish!

Apparently we're meant to tag other people, so I'm tagging myself, looks up, that was quick, I've already done it, cool, I tagged myself, looks up, that was quick, I've already done it, cool, I tagged myself, looks up... I'm sure this is going to create a tear in the space time continuum. Please put on safety googles and stand back when the universe implodes.

After re-reading that I can honestly say that my hate for tags has not dimminished one bit, what a load of rubbish...

Apparently...

...I did have something 'nasty' here (not really, it was just silly and I didn't feel like keeping it up). Hahaha, None of you saw it. Hahaha! Now you have to put up with something far cooler... and relaxing... and more representative of my mood.



The music is a little annoying in places but the visuals kinda remind my of that time in the 60's... whoa... I wasn't even born in the 60's...

CAKE!

In a complete change of pace, some time ago Jin of the bestest blog baksexry asked me to post a photo of the cheesecake I made for the Melbourne Cup. So here it is. I think in the 'cheesecake-off' Jin definitely comes out on top with her Raspberry & Dog Fur Cheesecake but I like to think the comments from the girls at work like "This is so unhealthy, why wont my spoon stop moving to my mouth?" counts for something.



This is a Blackforest cheesecake. The base is made of biscuit crumbs mixed with [censored by my mother], which enhances the flavour of the whole cake beautifully. The next layer is 50% chocolate mousse & 50% cheesecake mix, making it very light, and is mixed with a small amount of liqueur to taste and layered with Morello Cherries (mind the pips, get them all out before putting in the cake). The next layer is my Mum's traditional luscious cheesecake recipe which is basically [censored by my mother] and sprinkled with grated high quality Australian dark chocolate. Serve on Green Hungarian Stoneware with coffee and a metallic skink-lizard named Geoffery.

Monkey Business

You've probably all seen the 'Monkey is Pilot' film by now.

I'd like to re-iterate that working with the ever talented Monkey and the grand high musicologist Sir Ticharu made it one of the funnest films I've done. As easy as they made it for me to make this film there were a number of issues. Issues that had nothing to do with writing, storyboarding and then producing 'Monkey is a Pilot' from half way around the world to the rest of the cast and crew. Those issues had everything to do with Purple. Yes, that's right, we had Purple problems.

The following video is very rough, it is out-takes after all... but I hope it goes part of the way to understanding our Purple Problems.



I am glad to say that Purple and I did manage to sort things out over a bottle of single malt scotch. Purple's cool. He just had a little trouble understanding the difference between reality and acting. I would like to officially apologise for calling him a stuffed toy, it was unprofessional and uncalled for. As a way to set things straight I've managed to get Purple a job with a leading LA stunt agency. He is in hot demand, I just hope I can afford him if we do another Monkey film.

Stop looking here!

And here.



Just a little lower!



Look here -----> Monkey has a new film up. You MUST check it out. You'll understand why by the end. NOW GO! LOOK! ENJOY! COMMENT!

I SAID NOW!

I've learnt a new word!

There's a day every year that Australians really prove their mettle as Aussies.

Today is that day! It's the day of the Melbourne Cup. A horse race. The Race (capital R) that stops the nation. From functioning as adults.

It's a day of horses, little men in brightly coloured silk shirts, of 'betting' men who briefly become experts on track condition and the lineage of some Nag that no-one had heard of two days previous.

It's a day of Alcoholic abandon, of making out with strangers, or worse, office co-workers, of expensive silk ties worn as headbands and high heels slung carelessly over the shoulder of a little dress sporting the latest in red wine stain chic.

But between the hype, the money lost and won, it is first and foremost the day of the FASCINATOR!


The "Pheasant" Fascinator


The "Black Foliage" Fascinator


The "Red Arrow-Head" Fascinator


...and last but not least. The "I've had too many schamp, champ, sczchampers. Let's go back to my place" Fascinator. Of course when this girl gives you this look on Melbourne Cup day she will appear to be a super hot lingerie model which will leave you wondering the following morning how you missed that HUGE mole on her face.

So, while I'm off getting plastered and checking out the fascinators (great word). What was the last new word you learnt?

Family and Friends

I know there's meant to be some sort of Halloween thing going on at the moment but I'm not sure what the hell that is. In Australia it would go something like this;

[Knock Knock]

Rich: [Opens door] What on earth is your damage?

Person dressed as Ghost: Trick or treat!

Rich: Huh?

Person dressed as Ghost: Trick or treat!

Rich: Shut up idiot. [closes door] Release the dogs.

So instead of talking about something I know nothing about I think I'll talk what's going on down here. Over the last few days I've been giving a lot of thought to my family and friends. There are certain times in your life when you focus on those closest to you. Sometimes for happy reasons, sometimes for other reasons. This is one of those times when it's for happy, Happy, HAPPY reasons. Yup! I get to be an Uncle again, there's nothing better than being 'Uncle Riiiiichie, your craaaazy'. I'm so happy for my older brother and his wife! It's their first and is due in June. That'll add some warmth to Winter.

The video below has absolutely nothing to do with the birth of a new member of my family but it does hark from an equally happy time. A couple of years ago one of my oldest friends (I've known them for a long time, they're not old) got married and asked me to video their wedding. This is not something I would normally do, it's never a fun gig, but there was no way I was going to say no to my beautiful friends. But of course I had to do it my way. Enjoy some of the secretly shot Hens night footage... I would show you some of the Bucks night but why would I get myself into trouble.

Enjoy!



Oh, and Congratulations again to my Sister In-law and Brother. Woo Hoo, good one ya virile old bastard.

[Update] Oops, I forgot. Everyone should go and see B-Hip and his Halloween movie. It's great! Cause I got a Cameo. Of course it makes the film :)