The last 5% of any canned/bottled beverage is junk. This is my truth.
Despite living with this truth my entire life, my good friend Sam has never accepted this about me, which made this video the perfect vehicle with which to obtain his goat.
The goat-getting attempt was successful.
In 2009, I emailed my friend Sam this 70 minute video review of the Phantom Menace. I figured if me, as a casual-sorta-fan thought it was real interesting, he’d love it.
I don’t think he ever watched it, but 5+ years later, he’s still replying to that email thread.
My favorite comment, 3.25 years later: “I really think I’m going to enjoy this”
TRUTHBOMB. And I say this as someone who once called himself a drummer. This shit is backed by science and supported by one other drummer I know.
The rest of the drummers strongly disagree, as you can see from the conversation snippet below.
BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN IT AIN’T TRUE
Over Thanksgiving I watched Planes, Trains, and Automobiles for the first time (I know). But it reminded me of a video I started making years ago, which I have unearthed and accepted that it’s something I’ll never “finish”, and this is all that it is.
I’m not sure what it would have been, but I’ll tell you this: the first 25 seconds still crack me up consistently. The combo of the Insane In The Membrane intro and John Candy being obnoxious on a flight… that just does it for me.
I’d like to see a sketch where Haley Joel Osment is going around living everyday life, doing everyday things, and wishing he’d get recognized, but nobody does, despite the obvious hints he drops.
Here’s two scenarios.
[Scene: A grocery store checkout line. The customer before Haley got his very heavy groceries bagged haphazardly, and starts walking out of the store.]
Haley: [to the clerk] That’s gonna break
[Bag breaks as customer reaches exit, groceries everywhere]
Clerk: Whoa, you called that one
Haley: Yeah, I guess I have a Sixth Sense [chuckles]
Clerk: Yeah, I guess you do.
Haley: [Raises eyebrows]
Clerk: …I’ll… make sure to double bag yours…
[Scene: Getting a coffee at a hipster coffee shop. American Beauty by the Grateful Dead is being played.]
Barista: How’s your day going?
Haley: Pretty good. Did you put this album on?
Barista: Oh yeah, I’m a big fan of the Dead.
Haley: Me too. And actually, I’ve seen lots of the dead. [chuckles]
Barista: [blank look]
Haley: [whispers] I see dead people
Barista: They’re called deadheads.
AND THAT’S JUST A TASTE. C’mon Haley, let’s get together and make this. I know people who make great videos.
I’m 33 years old, and I enjoy talking on the telephone. There aren’t many of us left — my generation has fully embraced texting. Not just embraced, either, but essentially substituted all former phone communication with text messages.
I accept this as a reality of modern society when it comes to easily communicating with platonic friends. And in the cases of just needing to tell someone I’ll be a few minutes late, I welcome it. But with dating — especially in the early stages — I find text-only communication incredibly frustrating.
My attempts at talking to dates and potential dates on the phone have only been met with friction. I met a girl at a bookstore once, and we chatted for a while. She gave me her phone number, and told me to call her sometime. So I called her, only to have her say “Why are you calling me? Who talks on the phone anymore?”
I do. The 33 year old unicorn.
Read the rest of this
Jake loves lunch. I’m more of a breakfast fan, but he’s nuts over lunch.
Exhibit 1
And further, 7 out of 10 times he’ll want pizza or a burger. So for his birthday I wanted to make him a shirt that just said “Lunch?”, and this is the design I ended up with, using some very helpful design advice from Bennett.
My friend Mark posted the following MC Hammer video on Facebook with the caption:
Good morning everyone. Your day is about to get better. You’re welcome.
What followed in the comments is some of the finest extemporaneous creative writing I’ve ever done.
Me: This is where Hammer peaked as a lyricist.
Mark: I’m not the Hammer historian you are, Jeff, so correct me if I’m wrong, but might this also be his speedo-wearing, schlong-slinging peak as well?
Me: It’s not that simple, Mark. With great work comes great struggle, and this Hammer masterpiece is no exception.
It’s widely believed among Hammer historians that this video is layered in metaphor with Hammer’s feelings on his celebrity. The remote controlled waterfall symbolizes the unhinged excess that piles of money can cause, and the stark change from his extra-baggy silk parachute pants to his fully-exposed banana hammock symbolize the complete loss of privacy Hammer experienced as he became more famous.
But he keeps up the facade of happiness for the public, and “goes through the motions” (symbolized by the choreographed dance moves in the second half), with his true emotions hidden by the dark black sunglasses he wears throughout the video.
So while the layman may view this video as his speedo-wearing peak (no offense), it actually marks the peak of Hammer’s sadness. And his genius.
Mark: Profound. Could it then be said that, in Hammer’s philosophical search for the true self, that his speedo, as juxtaposed with his harem of bikini clad ladies, is intended to symbolize the Anima Jungian archetype?
Me: I go into that in the seventh chapter of my book, When Parachute Pants Don’t Break Your Fall: The Untold MC Hammer Story, hitting bookshelves in October.
I’m the only person in both exit rows. “We’re all counting on you, sir”
Everyone’s head turned and followed your path when you entered the room. While they all turned back to their meals and conversations after you passed, you landed a couple of tables away from me and we locked eyes for a few magical seconds.
I was the tall blonde bearded man wearing tortoise shell glasses and a green, blue and white checked shirt. You were petite, with well-kept gray and brown feathers, and a lovely long black beak.
I must have looked silly sitting there frozen with my fork full of salad, inches from my open mouth, but I really wasn’t expecting you to capture my gaze so fully. Looking into your glossy black diamond eyes felt so familiar—I swear I’ve seen you before.
Do you ever perch in the ash trees in the Central Market parking lot? I drive the blue Acura.
I doubt you’ll ever see this, but in the slight chance you do, I wanted you to know that you have magnificent poise, a captivating presence, and remarkable courage. I have never seen another bird—male or female, big or small—get so close to a human wielding a plastic knife and fork, so obviously prepared to crush your beautifully slender body and pick out your little eyes if given the chance.
You probably get this all the time, but you truly are a bird of a different feather. To demonstrate such fearlessness for a few stray crumbs of cornbread and an abandoned sweet potato fry really makes me wonder how you live the rest of your life.
I’d love to find out.