Are you sure…

During the filming of Dead Hunt I’d like to think I busted my ass in doing whatever I could to help out.

At the end of the shoot, it turned out the ending needed to be changed for some sound reasons, and it ended up a couple of parts needed to be filled because of this new ending.

So we are at Joe’s house (the director) and he says to me, “Stewie, you want to be in this?”

“In what?” I asked.

“The movie, wise ass.” He said.

“No. But thanks.”

The thing is, I never got into this to be in the movie. I just wanted to see what the film process was. I wanted to see how the stuff behind the scenes went, and I was even happier when I got to participate as much as I did during the filming.

“Are you sure?” Joe asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I mean if you got something where I can be in the background, like drinking a beer or something, that would be cool, but I’m good not being in it.”

“Are you sure.” He repeated.

“Yeah, but seriously, thanks.”

“No, dumbass, that’s your line. ‘Are. You. Sure.'” He broke down the scene to me and told me when I needed to say the line.

So they filmed it.

I figured I was pretty bad, even with that one line, but what the hell, it was two seconds and, as Don (the producer/director of photography) jokingly said, “It doesn’t matter what he says, anyway. I’m going to cut it out anyway.” We all had a laugh at that one.

Well, I found out today the ending has been changed again and my part has indeed been cut.

You know, I’m relieved. Part of me was pretty cool about being in the movie, but at the end of the day, I’m happy about it because I don’t want to be that guy. You know, the guy that comes onscreen and acts so bad with his 3 word line that everyone says, “Who the fuck is that guy? God he sucks. He must be one of the producers or something.”

On a side note, from what I heard my scene will be on the DVD as an alternate ending, so my friends can still see me in all my “Cindy Brady on the game show” sucktitude.

Rock the fuck on.

Hell yeah…

I just saw the trailer for Dead Hunt.

Dead Hunt is the movie I worked on last winter. I helped do setups, I did some (very little) sound, I got my cool ideas shot down by Joe (the director) and I get a bit part (until it’s cut).

And I learned a fuck of a lot about low-budget movie making.

My buddy Ace wrote it, Timewarp filmed it and I just saw the trailer for it.

I can’t wait until this damn thing comes out.

Hell yeah.

I should have left it at no…

Why is it that women are compelled to “remain friends” after a relationship is oh-so-obviously over?

About a month or so ago, my phone rang. My house phone. Now, 99% of the time I don’t even bother getting up to answer that one because 99% of the time it’s someone I don’t want to talk to. My friends have my cell number. They know that’s the one to call. But, honestly, I don’t answer that one 99% of the time, either. I just hate talking on the phone. Case in point, my friend left the following message:

“Why in the fuck do you bother to have a cell phone if you never answer it, or even make phone calls from it?”

I honestly don’t know because she’s right.

Anyway, back on track, the phone happened to be right next to me, so I glanced at the caller id (that is something I do 100% of the time, regardless of which phone it is).

It was my ex-girlfriend.

I threw the phone across the couch and quickly stood up to make a break for the door. Yeah, that doesn’t make much sense. I kind of realized that when my hand gripped the doorknob.

I haven’t talked to my ex in well over a year and a half. We broke up over three years ago. And the only reason I talked to her after we broke up was I had co-signed a car for her. dumb. dumb. DUMB. After the car was finally in her name, I was free and clear of both.

To make it clear, very clear, I have no bad feelings to the ex. She easily treated me better than anyone I dated. The breakup was a little, no, a lot fucked up (on her end), but in the big picture, she was a good girlfriend. I won’t ever date her again, I’ve moved way the hell on, but seeing the number on the ID freaked me the hell out. What the hell did she want?

The answering machine kicked in…

“Hey Stewie, it’s your ex (she said her name). Just wanted to see how you were doing. Give me a call!”

What the fuck?

It’s been almost two years. What the hell are we going to talk about? The Redskins? My job? Her first victim? Hell, in my mind, there’s nothing to say.

So I did what I usually do in these situations. I turned to the females I knew for a translation, and they all, more or less, said the same thing–the ex wants to see how I was doing.


Listen ladies, when you break up with a man, he doesn’t want to be your friend. He doesn’t want to be your confidant. He doesn’t want to talk to you about your job, your problems, your new boyfriends or basically anything. He wants you to go away. There’s nothing more to say.

And you women don’t get it. We don’t WANT to be your friend. You took away teh sex. When asked to have teh sex, you tell us it will complicate things now that there is no more relationship. Well maybe for YOU. So, if you take away teh sex, what’s left for us? Hell, speaking for myself, I have enough female friends that aren’t having sex with me. I don’t want one more.

I remember once, during our relationship, the ex asked me if we broke up, would I still be friends with her.

“No,” I immediately replied. Hell, I didn’t even think about it. I just said it.

“What?!? Why not?!?” She said, exasperated.

“Why? What’s the point? I don’t want to be friends with someone I dated.”

“Not ever? Not even after a year?”

I was already done with the conversation because I knew it wouldn’t get better. “Okay,” I conceded, “maybe I’d talk to you again after a year.”

I should have left it at no.

*on a somewhat related note, freak, no negative comments about the ex. I know you don’t like her, and I know why. I don’t bad mouth her and, as my friend, you shouldn’t either. At least not around me. You are free to do it wherever else you please.*

What the hell would we talk about…

I just finished watching that BTK Killer TV movie and it never dawned on me that this dude was a father.

It got me to thinking, how would I react if my father was a serial killer. I honestly don’t know.

My first thought would be to completely disown him. I mean, hell, that would be easy for me. It’s not like I haven’t shut out people before (and for a lot less).

But, man, I don’t know if I could do that.

And, seriously, what the hell would we talk about when I went to visit him in the pokey? The Redskins? My job? His first victim?

I think that’s the part that bothers me the most. Not the fact that my dad killed a bunch of people, but the fact that I wouldn’t know what to talk about with him.