Let me start out by saying a genuine "thank you" to everyone who's mentioned me and the Love Train in their various blogs during the recent handing-out of awards, honors, and nods. I never thought that writing about kinky erotica, decades-old movies, and questionable fashion and art would gain me the accolades of my peers, but we live in a puzzling and sometimes-wonderful world. I'm truly flattered, touched, and more than a little amazed at the kind words folks have had to say about my work, and I wanted to take a moment to acknowledge these folks (my apologies if you're not listed here--please feel free to whack me upside the head in the comments if you've shouted out and not been listed):
- Aleata Illusion at GoreGoreDancer's Movie Reviews
- BJ-C of Day of the Woman
- B-Sol of The Vault of Horror
- Christine and the team at Paracinema (also, thank you for the INCREDIBLE shout-out in Paracinema Magazine Issue 8--the one with Tommy frikkin' Wiseau on the cover--you guys are amazing supporters and I'm blessed to share an internet with you!)
- Darius Whiteplume of Adventures in Nerdliness
- David Z of Tomb It May Concern
- Matt at Chuck Norris Ate My Baby
- Neil of The Agitation of the Mind
- Ivan of Ivanlandia
- Reverend Phantom at Midnight Confessions
- The team at Brutal As Hell
- Zombie Hayes of Hayes Hudson's House of Horrors
Apparently I'm supposed to do some sort of "7 Things About Me" meme in order to claim my award and then pass it along to 7 other people, but I was never very good at choosing favorites. I know--it's a terrible shortcoming and the character flaw that would likely lead to my demise were I the hero in a Greek tragedy. Suffice to say I encourage you to check out the blogs in my blogroll over to the right; there are some creative, inspiring folks who are posting exciting stuff to the "weird" tube of the internet. I *will*, however, play along with the 7 Things meme, mainly because it lets me go more off-topic than usual.
Seven Things About Me
- I appeared for a split-second in a Conan O'Brien sketch filmed in 1997 and titled "Rip Taylor Is Depressed." I was dressed in a nun's habit and while Mr. Taylor wanted to position me closer to the camera, the director felt I might upstage the confetti-tossing comedian. And FYI--Rip Taylor is one of the raddest dudes around and I have a deep and personal love for him.
My official karaoke song is Judas Priest's "Breaking the Law."
I think we need to petition to bring back the X Rating. It's not copyrighted, you can just USE it, filmmakers! OWN the verboten and wear it as a seal of pride; to hell with this pussy NC-17 bullcrap. Also: where did double-X go? Was there ever a double-X? It's like a beautiful mystery that I feel is insufficiently answered via Wikipedia.- I would not like to buy the world a Coke, let alone teach it to sing. Perfect harmony is not achievable--learn to embrace chaos, folks.
An overwhelming percentage of my high school English class was female, which led to me getting cast as John Proctor in our readings of Arthur Miller's witch trial parable "The Crucible." I tried to make it as uncomfortable as possible for everyone involved, and I'd like to think I succeeded.- I thank a dark deity for the internet every day, because otherwise I would never remember anybody's names. Seriously--I have some kind of really specific speech aphasia when it comes to attaching a name to a face. Also, I am really uncomfortable with hand-shaking, as I feel it's an art I have yet to master.
- I just realized my most recent unfinished acrylic painting has been sitting untouched in my apartment for almost two years, and this embarrasses me deeply.
10 comments:
Handshaking needs to go away.
I think the triple X was just designed by pornographers as a way of indicating there will be penetration. I don't believe it is an actual MPAA rating. Maybe double X should mean "dildos only" or some such?
According to my Uncle Charlie, the key to a great handshake is to lock webbing (the skin between your thumb and index finger), then squeeze until you start to feel the other person's bones shift. Shake vigorously 3-4 times. If both parties have done the handshake correctly, you should both require minor medical attention afterwards.
It goes without saying that expressing actual pain is a major faux pas. Saying, "That's quite a grip you have there," however, is not only acceptable, it's considered a compliment.
We should shake hands like dogs.
You should finish your painting... I plan on painting at least 1 canvas a month this year... after being dormant for 2 years... Do it!
Thanks for the thank yous and I have been meaning to congratulate you on getting into the blog section of Paracinema! Very cool!
For the perfect handshake, see any episode of 21 Jump Street and look for a celebration handshake from Peter Deluise and Depp...you will then know how it should be done!
As far as I'm concerned your Rip Taylor story is the greatest tale ever told.-Unk
I'm REALLY glad to learn I'm not the only one who dreads handshakes. Seriously--my brain goes into slow motion and it's like "Oh crap; I'm going to shake too weakly! Or perhaps for too long! Am I wearing a rictus grin of terror? MAKE IT END!!!" Work conferences are like a days-long game of Mister Shake Hands Man.
Unk, would it further sweeten the pot if I told you that Refrigerator Perry was involved, and that Doc Hammer's (of "Venture Brothers" fame) goth band Mors Syphillitica were involved? Because such is the case. I totally peaked in coolness at an early age ;)
With the advent of H1N1, I was forced to teach all the first and second graders I was coaching in my son's soccer league to fist bump at the end of games rather than the traditional handshake in an effort to prevent infections. Is a fist bump in the Tenebrous future?
Fred, a fist bump would totally work for me! It's finite, and I understand the rules of the fist bump. Better yet, a polite Prussian heel-click and bow. I need to bring that junk back!
Kate, Your blog is one of the best things going on the intertubes these days! It's smart, funny, and well-written. Keep up the good work!
Rip fucking Taylor! Rip Taylor! Ah, those hazy late '70s TV memories... I am officially on one knee before your dark throne.
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