where is this ladder of success i'm supposed to be climbing?

Those cockbags on Laguna Beach got a record deal with Epic Records!?!??! Are you joking me? Who wants to listen to spoiled brats whining into a microphone about how they couldn't go surfing last wednesday because it was only 65 degrees out? And yes I'm buying the cd.

<< href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4BQm9UEuSrs">check it

the other day i saw a completely naked man being arrested on 23rd street

I'm always deeply inspired on my way to work in the morning. I walk a good six blocks to the subway and really like to take it all in. Thanks to my lil' love, Nikki, I have the new rediculously small iPod shuffle to spark even more creative flow on my morning journeys. Today, as usual, I was filled with rage regarding young filmmakers. Having attended one of the more prominent media/arts programs in the country, I brushed shoulders with a diverse pick of the litter as far as up and coming artists are concerned. What bothers me most about people like this are their reluctance to share a common opinion about anything. This makes it nearly impossible to have an actual conversation with any of these individuals. Their goal to be so obscure leads me to believe they cannot possibly even agree with what they are saying half the time. I try my best to be aware of myself as a person and stay in touch with my own motives and feelings whenever I have such a strong opinion. I've asked myself why I feel such scorn towards my fellow young filmmakers. Perhaps I'm threatened by their talent and insecure about my lack therof? Perhaps I'm bitter about them simply being smarter, better read, more traveled and experienced than me? Probably.

Regardless, I've come up with a checklist of what I believe is necessary to be a successful young contemporary filmmaker:

- Must mention Fellini at least once in daily conversation
- Must wear blazer over t-shirt with jeans and sneakers
- Use your hands when you talk... a lot
- Never watch any piece of media made in the United States or passed 1970
- Be sure to act superior to your fellow filmmakers at all times
- Tecnically know filmmaking, but suck at actually doing it

I'm pretty sick of New York pedestrians' determination to stab me in the EYE with their umbrella points.

The first of posts

My new friend Allison, who is actually a friend by default-which cheapens it significantly, inspired me to create this blog. I decided it's time to release some of the genius that circulates throughout my brain on a daily basis to a public audience. I'm going to lay down some personal ground rules for myself before I delve into blogging:

1. Don't write and pretend you hate doing it, because you obviously dont
2. Don't not not phrase things in an unnatural way to seem original
3. Don't use this as a medium to brag about things in my life to people from high school
4. Don't put this much thought into what #4 should be

Okay, so we've begun. The first topic I'd like to address is the people I see on my way to get bagels at night. I pass by several bars and clubs as I live in the social hub of Manhattan. There are always small groups of dudes, for which I have coined the term "Groupadudes." Groupadudes are an interesting bunch. They travel in packs of three or four males, all in jeans and dress shirt. They never fail to have some clueless heterosexual flaw to their appearance like Adidas shelltoe shoes or wrinkles on the back of their shirt. Much like many of my neighbors at SU, Groupadudes simply love grunting and yelling "Owww." They are always at any given time on the tail end of a laughing fit about something that just happened. Ya know, I'm gonna come back to this later.

Today, on my lunchbreak, I saw two birds on the street struggling with each other. They were flipping and flailing about violently. I walked by feeling awkward as I assumed they were doing the deed, but upon closer investigation found their beaks to be stuck together. The possibilities of the events preceeding this moment were far more fascinating to me than the current interlocked state of these little beings. Also on my lunchbreak, I was walking down the street and realized I forgot what I was wearing today. I wanted to challenge myself and refused to look down as I went over the vast number of clothing combinations in my wardrobe. How could I forget? For the life of me, I couldn't think of what I had not only dressed myself in, but made it til 3:00 PM without noticing apparently.

I'm trying Indian food for the first time this upcoming weekend. My co-worker Mark told me to tell the waiter "not to give me any of that pussy shit, but the REAL spicy stuff." We'll see...

I was supposed to make a film about gay people. Whatever happened to that?