So, last saturday I woke up.  I said to myself, wow I really do not feel like mowing the goddamn lawn.  So, what to do?  How about the Fangoria Weekend of Horrors Convention in NYC!

I hop in the car and head into Manhattan.  I park, I walk, I pay my entrance fee, and this is what I find....


Leatherface surprisingly, was a pretty nice guy.


Lil' Leatherface however, was a handful.


I had lunch at the table adjacent to Freddy.  I said "Do you mind man?"  as I held up my camera.  Then we both looked at the sleeping girl on the couch a few feet away.  Silently we both had the same idea for staging this photo.  Freddy Krueger you have one awesomely sick sense of humor.



This woman was great.  But she had a rather dull dead-like look in her eyes...




This is the most disturbing costume I've ever seen, which is what he was going for I'm sure, so BRAVO!!!  He was wandering around asking people to help him with his baby... 



 Yeah, I met GWAR.  Nice guys.



HELLGIRL!!



An Invitation to a Pill Party!!!

So, that was  the Fangoria Weekend of Horrors convention.

Hope you enjoyed the pics!

When in New York, go eat at the Nolita House on Houston St.  It is the location of Tesla's NYC lab.  They have a kick-ass bluegrass themed brunch on the weekend.

Yoga Rage -

 I took up yoga last summer.  I was working as a cinematographer on a film.  It was alllll handheld, and at the end of the day, every day, my back was killing me.  So, I took up yoga to stretch my back out and relax.  Lately I've been watching these Yoga videos on demand, and DAMN, those people can get into some crazy suspended positions, especially crane position.  At first, I was terrified by crane position, so when the video got to crane, I would give up and go get a beer (which a great way to relax as well). 

 Lately, I get pissed off when I get to crane, which seems counter-productive to the calming effect of Yoga.

 The DVD teacher lady said "Now be mindful of your breath as you transition into crane position"  and I just got so freakin' pissed, and I yelled at her.  I yelled "You fu#$ing bitch!"  and, miraculously, I did crane!  I was so freaking angry at this 90 lbs woman that can stand on one finger,  that I got all juiced up with Yoga Rage, and I could DID IT!  I was so happy, and angry, and satisfied.  It was awesome!  Now I'm thinking of founding a new Yoga Practice that focuses entirely on rage.  It feels good to scream vulgarities while balanced on one hand, and it really helps with the even breathing.  What do you think?

 

The Internet machine

 One of my clients called me this morning.  I'll lay the scene out:

 I enter my office, flip on my computer, make a nice cup of Earl Grey, and check my voicemail.  I have a slight headache brought on by a Peroni (… or five), which I had last night while watching Sukiyaki Western: Django, a Japanese Western (Good movie..  Can't fully recommend to everyone, but it was entertaining.  It was beautiful to look at, to say the least). 

 RING RING.

 I answer my phone.  "Hello," I say. 

There is no response to my question, just a statement, "Is there something wrong with your head son?"

I wear my cowboy boots when I have a hangover.  I lift my feet up to rest my cowboy boots on my desk as I lean back in my ergonomic chair.   I consider my responses for a split second, then decide on teacher-like condescension.   "That is not how you have a conversation over the phone sir.  Let's try again.  Now why don't you start by telling me who you are and why you have a problem with my head."

"This is Lou over at #$^%$%&%^& (Edited for the sake of my income) and I got to my office, checked my Internet machine (Yes, he calls it that), and found a memorandum tellin' me that you cancelled our meeting that starts in five minutes?!"

"Lou, I called you five times per day, for three days trying to re-schedule.  I also sent three memorandums via the (chuckle) Internet machine.  I have personal business this morning that cannot be re-scheduled."

"I don't know where you learned business etiquette son (Yoga-type rage boiling over) but you do not use the Internet machine to cancel a meeting.  I am thinking of canceling your contract right now!"

And he hung up on me, which was for the best. 

Should I send him an email explaining modern business practices and etiquette?


Here's a TV Pitch:

Three guys and a hot chick that reads comics.  Think the CW will green light it for me?

Coffee and Depression

I read somewhere that coffee can make you depressed.  I switched to tea.  Wow, I'm fuckin' depressed.

You dick

I miss the word "dick".  I've decided to use it whenever I feel like insulting somebody.  It just sums up everything you have to say when really frustrated with someone.  Spicoli in Fast Times used it best when the teacher took his pizza.  He simply said "You dick!"  How direct and completely fu@#ing eloquent,  right?

We are all stuck in the bathroom sometimes

There is this guy across the hall in the building I work in.  He's a sort of tactile phobic person.  He doesn't like to touch things.  One day, when I got to the office at about 8am-ish, I ran into the bathroom.  This guy was standing there waiting for someone to enter, so he wouldn't have to touch the door.  He snuck out avoiding the door as it swung shut.  To this day, I've wondered how long he was in there...?

Hulk

I went to see the incredible Hulk in the theater.  When I exited the Bathroom, I swung the door open banging this poor guy in the face.  I think I enjoyed the movie too much.

Belfast and bad timing for movie references

I was in the passenger seat of a car in Belfast once.  I spent the day at the "Sing-Song" at a Members Only pub, where everyone in the pub wanted to buy the "Yank" a drink, and did.  My friend picked me up, (literally,  I fell down a few times) and drove me home.  On the way, we were pulled over by an armoured police car with a machine gun turret on top.  A Soldier/ Police Officer walked up to the car and tapped his machine gun on the passenger side window.  I rolled down the window and said, "These are not the droids you are looking for."

He smiled, "These are not the droids we are looking for."

I said, "Move along."

He replied, "Move along." and walked away.  Then turned back, and told us to stay off the cell phone in city limits.

That's all I have to say about that.  Here is a picture of Cobra Commander from New York Comic Con.

(And, yes, I meant to do that, there I am in his reflective mask)

Sometimes a picture can be worth a thousand words...  Some of these are worth millions.

I was at the New York Comic Con last weekend.  Here are just a few pics of what I saw there.


This is some Space Woman with requisite nipples on her Space Suit. 


I know the red guy is Ultraman.  No idea who the rest of these guys are.


Spiderman with The Black Cat and the Black Cat and the Black Cat.  What a lucky Arachnid.


Trekkies.  They were really cool.  Totally in Character the whole time and SUPER excited to be at Comic Con.


Fry and Leela from Futurama, and I believe that is Thor, God of Thunder to the Left.



THE HULK!!!!!  This guy's costume was about nine feet tall.  He was on stilts and had a voice modulator to give him a Hulh voice.  Coolest costume of the day.



Not all comic geeks are pimply overweight troll-like people that live in their parent's basements. 
I.E. - I have grown up to own my own basement!  Then there are these girls too.  I bet they don't have to live in the basement with their comic collections...

And finally, below was a great costume, the Imp from the fifth dimension Bat-Mite.


I had a great time at the show.  I look forward to it again next year.  My wife even came.  She had a blast.  We saw a preview of the Watchmen, Friday the 13th, The new show Dollhouse, etc.

If you guys like these pics, let me know.  I have many more.

-Rob

A while ago, I was living in Belfast, Northern Ireland, working on a documentary.  The weekend that I want to tell you about, I was at Belfast International airport.  I was flying down to London to do some work for the weekend.  Belfast to London is a short flight.  It takes the same amount of time to get through all of the Customs and Security checkpoints as it does to actually fly to London. 

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I got to the airport 2 hours early.  I arrive early, because on my last trip I was detained for some time (a couple hours) because it just so happens that I look uncannily similar to some IRA asshole that is on some no-fly list in the U.K.  He’s wanted for questioning, and they keep trying to ask me the questions…  Check- in takes about 20 minutes.  I go and get into line at the first checkpoint.

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“Owpen da camra cawse boss.” Is what the security guard says to me.  The Belfast accent is one of the thickest brogues in the U.K.  If you can get a handle on the Belfast accent or the Scottish equivalent in Glasgow, then you are all set for travel in the U.K.

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I open the case, turn the camera on, take my mics out, take the batteries out.  They go through all of my equipment, which I expected.  That is why I got there 2 hours early.  And I can’t really blame them.  My cases for travel are big chrome metal boxes.  If I saw someone with big metal boxes getting onto my plane, I’d wonder what was inside.

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Moving on.  Checkpoint one took about a half hour.  I go through the area of the airport with all the shops, bookstores, pubs, etc.  I don’t really stop, except to buy a newspaper.  Next checkpoint is to enter the actual gate/ departure area.  The line is pretty long.  I wait about thirty minutes again.  I go through the same search again.  It doesn’t bother me. 

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When all is said and done, the walking, the waiting, the searches, etc., it takes about two hours to get to the gate, where an annoyingly pleasant Irish lass named Michelle informed everyone that the flight was delayed for 2 hours….  I thought this was a shuttle flight.  I thought there were supposed to be Belfast to London flights leaving pretty much every hour.  I was wrong. 

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I sat there for a few minutes.  I was  bored bored bored.  I got up and went to the pub in the departures area.  A half hour and three Guinesses later, I decide I want a cigarette.  I take one out and am about to light up, when the bartender says “Oy!  No smokin’ mate.”  Come on….  An airport is the one place you should be allowed.  And, besides, when I was there just a few weeks ago, smoking was allowed.  AND, this is Europe.  I thought you could smoke in church.  I bet you could smoke in an emergency room.  I bet they smoke while pumping gas, and they probably ash into your tank. <!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]-->

So, I’m tired and reaaaally want a smoke.  I look at the exit.  You can leave the departures area through a series of automatic sliding doors.  There is an hour and a half until the flight boards.  I’ll have to go through security again.  Screw it.  I pick up my bags and exit the terminal.  The second I hit that cold Belfast air, I light up.  It was a good smoke.

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Then, it happened.  Someone exited right behind me, and my bag on my shoulder was partly in the door.  It kept the door from closing by breaking its safety laser thingamagig.  I duck into the exit.

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Standing between the two exit doors, I wait for someone to open the next door from inside the Departures area….  A flight must have just landed…  A wave of people come through the doors.  I casually, and off to the side go against the exiting traffic, and let myself back into the terminal, ultimately skipping customs, security, etc…  I hope Belfast has done something about this fairly obvious security flaw.  I was just a dumb kid at the time, not entirely understanding the possible ramifications of my actions, but it was kind of funny in a scary way.

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