The Biggest Pair of Cajones Caper

I haven't done a lot at the con this year, but oddly enough feel compelled to do up an unofficial Anime North' 08 report. The dealer's room was same as last year, nothing but T&A galore AND sundry anime paraphernalia. However, I later discovered a wooden-hut tucked away in the corner, with 3 white dudes in front and a suit of Samurai armor erected in the back of the structure, lending the vendors some Japanese street-cred I suppose. To my amazement, that joint specializes in Japanese Martial Arts, ranging from sword play to Taijustsu. I was like, "HOLY SHIT!! That's pretty bad ass!!" and took their business card for future reference. I figured if I ever needed to defend myself or people I care about, I could throw down and whup the dude's ass with some Taijutsu, and then vanish via smoke-bomb a la Batman before the cops arrive.

Other than that, it's a shame I didn't get to see as many peeps as I'd hoped for. However, I was delighted to run into Kristy and Sheena on Saturday, but then I was baffled by Kristy's booblessness. I never thought I'd live long enough to see the day. Nevertheless, it was exciting to run into Kamina-sama(Sheena is Awesome) and Simon en route to their dirt heap photo shoot. When I turned around I spotted a Spartan 300 dude clad in a gray T-shirt, presumably to cover up his otaku-gut, armed with a spear and a helmet. I thought that was fairly amusing, but not spartan enough in comparison to the scandalous skit that I performed in on Friday night.

This brainchild was conceived on one steamy night of "What Ifs?", then one thing led to another, Liz and I wound up developing a sketch about the certifiable Millennium Group performing Springtime For Hitler on stage. It contains zero Jew-nocide and it's very sanitized; but not in a ethnic cleansing way. Having said that, one still couldn't fathom why this ensemble was robbed of their chance at "Best in Show", or at the very least, "The Biggest Pair of Cajones Award".


Though, the positive feedback from Youtube viewers is very uplifting, but the reality of this fiasco is we didn't win for reasons unknown. Presumably due to the lack of poise and lousy timing in our performance, which I thought would play out extremely well for these maniacal ruffians who can maim, who can ravage but JUST can't dance to save their asses and to stop Geneon from canceling HELLSING ULTIMATE. Obviously, it went well with the panel of provincial judges. If, however, we didn't win anything because we were judged before we even went on stage, then that's horseshit! Sure! we were sporting Nazi gear to portrait a band of fictional villains (Pay attention, kids! It's only fictional) on stage. It's not like we were spreading messages of Jew-hate, then dragged one out, sit on his head and gassed him to death. No! These fictional Nazis were defeated by the corporate power of Geneon. I think pretty much the moment we busted the flags out, the show director(probably a jew) was like, "Oy Vey! Fuck these Nazi-lovers! Cut the feed on the cameras!! Now!!!" and put the kabosh on us.

Ultimately, I'd like to believe that it was our poor planning and express-rehearsal for the very first time before the show that doomed us, and not of someone's provincial judgment.

Sunday! Bloody Sunday!!

Ooops! Mr. Director is brooding over his mistake on casting the emotionally challenged. So that was pretty much my Con-less Sunday. I reluctantly parted ways with AN '08 and spent about 12 hours directing my first flick for the film club. The shoot was scheduled to commence at 9:30 a.m. and wrap up near 4pm (courtesy of my idealistic foolishness), however, several key-players of the production crew did not show up 'til 11a.m.. Needless to say, my plan to return to the dealer's room to pick up some more shit was shot to hell. I wasn't pleased to say the least, and I wasn't afraid to show it. If it was up to me I'd fire those motherfuckers, albeit none of us were paid to partake the grueling shoot. We all show up due to our love and respect for film-making and its process of creative problem solving ; and also because the Director fucking said So!. What did I do? Did I unleash the wrath of Jon on these bitches? No! I opted out of wasting any more of my energy on them, but instead channeling it to my flick, i.e. coercing those idiots to do take after take even when I already had the shot at an earlier take.
At lunch, the owner of the apartment treated us with some delicious mac n' cheese. Out of the blue, Fred(co-writer) produced a bottle of red wine; it seemed harmless at the time, but little did I know that bottle had brought on the "Itis", rendering my crew sluggish, sleepy and lost the will to do anything else. In spite of that, I did whatever I had to to grab whatever shots I could in the living room until they sobered up.

All in all, the shoot wasn't too bad, albeit Sue (storyboard artist/ writer) overstepped her boundary and did some directing of her own. At which point, I was annoyed but too restless to throw down and kneecap her in the living room. In retrospect, I believe the shoot on Sunday could be shorter and less grueling, had some people showed up on time and learned their lines, and had I not staked my pride and ambition behind the camera to prove I can direct as a fledgling ass-kicking auteur.

Still Alive and Directing!

Just a quick update before I hit the sack. It had been a helluva a week for me, not only did I accumulated the total of 24 hours of actual sleep time, I also made Director on Monday. Hooray!!
Since Monday I've been heavily involved in the pre-production of a short film called, "Have 2 Laugh" (working title); during the emergency film meet on said night, I pitched some brilliant ideas to the rest of my film group and they dug it. With that, I seized the opportunity to elect myself as their new director, since the previous one left the group for a paying gig instead. Besides, nobody seemed to be foolish enough or brave enough to vie for this creative position. On one hand, the onus is on me to show the world my creative vision, and if it sucks then Mr. Director will have to swallow his pride and bite the bullet. However, I have nothing to worry about, because I am brilliant!!

On Wednesday, I ordered a rehearsal but instead we wound up spending 4 hours tweaking the screenplay to maximize several gags, as well as tightening the story(or lack thereof).

Next Wednesday is the ACTUAL Read-thru/ Rehearsal. Hope it all goes down smooth, like a swig of Iced Cap on a smoggy day.

Other than that, I got censored by my instructor at Improv on Sunday, and inadvertently earned the title of the"Potty Mouth Wonder" amongst my cohorts. Hey! That's alright! It's like that age old admonition that says; when you go to jail you must fuck somebody up on the first day, or else you'll wind up being on the somebody's bitch. Well, guess what? I'm the guy who's befriended the bitch's papa.

Tag Team for the WIN!

Obviously, I'm not tag-teaming an inflatable doll with a tentacle monster. This photo was taken on Friday of AN '07. It only took my buddy a year to show me this goddam picture, but I'm glad he did. Meanwhile, my perverted friend relentlessly brandishes this scandalous photo to everyone via his cell. And I'm cool with that. Since I asked the pair to kiss each other for the camera. It was my gift to my buddy's foray in an Anime con in Toronto. Aren't I Wonderful?

He Love Her Long Time

I read an article in the SUN yesterday, in which, it reported the harrowing tale of an Austrian man, Josef Fritzl, who had his daughter imprisoned in his cellar serving as his personal fuck-toy for twenty-four years and fathering her seven children. Well, six to be exact, when he incinerated an infant that died at birth. How fucked up is that? Fritzl, however, was anything but insane. This crafty motherfucker ('scuse me! Daughter-fucker) had the presence of mind to coerce his daughter to write a letter to the rest of the family, explaining her urgent departure with a phony cult. This guy went above and beyond to keep that piece of incestuous ass to himself. The victim of this perturbed nightmare, Elisabeth, was only seventeen when it all began.
Frankly, I'm just shocked that, not once, did she try to chomp down on his dick and make a daring escape. Because, the moment he put his cock in her mouth, or anywhere NEAR her, the father figure had seized to exist. All that's left for her to confront was an animal. As a father, one is supposed to protect his offsprings, not to have unprotected sex with them, then get them preggers.

I'm also flabbergasted at how the, now, 73 yr old could sustain an erection for twenty four years. Granted, today's medical science has endowed us with the miracle blue pill; having said that, wouldn't his wife find it suspicious that Josef is buying viagra by the truck-load, yet they never got it on? Unless, he obtained his private stash from a dealer or he shopped online.

Now the bigger question is, How the hell did he lure her into that kind of predicament to begin with? Did he go, "Hey! Elisabeth! How are ya? Do YOU like Dungeons and Dragons? Yeah?? Well! Follow ME!! I have a massive one-eyed dragon in the cellar! Lemme show ya!!" or something old fashion, like slipping a Rufie in her coke? Nowadays, a seventeen year old girl could very well hospitalize her own father, or at least punch him in the nuts, then make a run for it! I don't know much of Elisabeth, and I probably will never know what her goals and dreams were before she had her life robbed from her. But I do know this...I feel sorry for her, 'cause it wasn't just her body that was violated, her mind as well. The only solace left is if her father gets charged and sentenced to a butt-raping jail in Guantanamo Bay, turning him into a human pin-cushion.

Improv is the bomb!!

Wish I had done this years ago. Improv really is a place that encourages idiots like me to becoming a bigger jackass, but funnier and more lovable. It really is like a boot camp training for smart-asses, hence my participation in this 7 week course. Tonight marked the beginning of my improv training with the Bad Dog Theatre, and it was brilliant!! The class began with ten of us sitting tacitly in our respective chairs, studying and judging other people's power level in improv or Comedy. I certainly did, especially the girl who told us she was an actress.

Our instructor, Jeanette, kicked off the session with the usual self-introduction around the room, so we could at least get each other's names before finding out who did a better job at embarassing him/herself? When that's done, Jeanette had us performed a series of warm-up excercises that were probably designed to wear down the tension amongst us, and took us out of our awkward shells (it worked wonders, even for a shy guy like me). By the end, we were more apt to become physical and vocal with our amateur improvisation. She put us through a series of improv games that demands teamwork and being in the moment. However, these games felt more like exorcism rituals that drew strength from our inner tricksters or demons to carry out various objectives, kinda like how Ichigo becomes a Vizard, except without the cool mask.
All in all, it was a great way to wrap up the weekend!!

Here's what I did earlier today:

What a great way to Kick-off the Summer Superhero flicks!

Went to see IRON-MAN at the Downtown AMC last night, and it was awesome. The flick managed to deliver the very same twittering adrenaline rush that I felt since Spider-Man. This flick was so well-done that it had the audience literally howling and hooting, whenever Stark busted out a wise-crack or dished out a can of whupass on the baddies. And to top off the heavy metal action, the movie also features a cameo of Nick Fury at the end of the lengthy credit (played by none other than the baddest muthafucka on the planet- Sam Jackson!!!)

Between my day job and attending to my weekly film club meeting, I'm beginning to learn that I have less and less ME-time to chill out. Thankfully, I was recently introduced to My new vice. My new favourite Anime - Tengen Toppa Gurren-Lagann, and surprisingly, NOt because of that Yoko chick in the show. I respect her as a gun-wielding amazon who happens to possess the very attributes that turn me on. I'm very glad Kristy had turned me on to this show, otherwise I'd continue to re-watch old Doctor Who or The Office episodes until I come to a realization that neither of these shows contain a sultry bombshell that would make me hard.