Wednesday, August 31, 2011

25 Frightening(ly positive) Photos Of Hurricane Irene’s Destruction

25 Frightening(ly positive) Photos Of Hurricane Irene’s Destruction

I'm not sure why Buzzfeed has labeled these photos as "Frightening."  I have amended them to make them slightly more positive ( know, they happened to you):

It's like living on WIlly Wonka's block.  Minus the creepy orange midgets doing all the landscaping (no not Mexicans).

Hey-O!  Guess who now has beach front property.

This is East Lake Road in Woodstown, New Jersey.  Oh wait, this was before the hurricane.

Like you didn't already hold your breath at the train station.

Its not THAT deep.  You can even put the top down & go fishing.

Time to Dukes of Hazard the shit out of this place!

Sure it's down, but think of the money all of that Unobtanium will get you.

Photo op.

You finally get to put that sweet ponco to work (no not Mexicans).

The guy that lives here always gave out the shittiest Halloween candy.  Clark Bars?  Really?

Now when grandma dies, it wouldn't tear the family apart fighting over the inheritance.  

That pier wasn't to code anyway.  And, more jobs.  Thanks Obama!

This will teach kids not to text while driving.  Stay Alert.  Stay Awake.  Stay Afloat.

Surely this will decrease the number of bear attacks.

Bonding time with your...wait for it..."step" father*.

The kidnap victim in the back of the van should be fine, he just completed level 2 of swimming at the Y.

There's NOTHING positive about cones.

What kid hasn't wished for this while blowing out his birthday candles?  Hopefully that asshole Billy Simmons from down the street is on it (twofer!)

A real reason not to go to Church.

Fire Prevention Safety

We all agree she's holding pills right?

Real life Q-Bert.

The last mini van has been destroyed.

An answer to the age old question, "Why did Natalie Wood Cross the road."  The answer:  She didn't.

HELL YEAH, it looks like the second Death Star!!!

*I apologize for the "step" father pun.

Thursday, August 25, 2011


Saturday August 27th!  That is the last day of principle photography on the Clink season 2.  It is also the start of Julie & my vacation.  It is also the day we were planning on having a HUGH Tiki/Wrap Party at our house.  Oh, and it's also the day that Hurricane Irene decided to bring her twaty attitude to town.

So we are still filming.

We are still vacationing.

The Tiki Party has been canceled.

Irene is still a twat!

I didn't want to cancel the party.  Inside...outside, what's the difference?  (FYI, there's a huge difference when it comes to AIDS test results).  The reason I canceled wasn't because of the impending Hurricane.  But rather because we will most definitely lose power.

Candles (Gordon) & Batteries (Kerry...I have know idea what that could refer to).  The problem isn't the lighting.  I could party in the dark!  Great opportunities to cop a feel (inside or outside).  But instead, it's because we have "well water."

When we lose power, we lose water.  I was in the shower once when the power went out.  I had shampoo in what little hair I have left.  I went to the fridge hoping we had bottles of water.  We didn't.  But luckily the bathroom has a basin filled with water!  Yup.  I really did.

When you have no water, it means each toilet has "1 good flush."  AKA, 1 flush at all!  How could I have a party and enact the "yellow let it mellow/brown...well we only get one flush so just leave it" policy?  I can't!  Sure some of us could pee in the bushes or on Bosco's car in my driveway (Bosco).  But where are the ladies to pee?  I'm seriously looking for suggestions on that one sickos!

So that said, I am not fearful of the storm.  Quite the opposite.  I'd encourage friends to come over and drink and hang out.  But you might want to bring some Lenni Hurricane items.  Such as the previously mentioned candles & batteries.  Also, you might want to bring a bucket, but fuck inside or outside.  That thing ain't coming in my house you twat!

Monday, August 15, 2011

Film Journal

I wish I kept a filmmaking journal.

I have read journals kept by Robert Rodriguez, Alfred Hitchcock, Orson Welles.  They are always exciting and often times shed new light on a film for me.

My film journal would ready something like this:

Lots of farts on the set of The League today.  We need more females in the cast.  Then we’d be less likely to pollute the atmosphere in Jim’s apartment.  Note to self:  never go back to Jim’s apartment.


Yea!  Gordon didn’t die going through the table in the wrestling episode.  I have to admit, when he was air born, I figured 50/50 on survival.


Lots of farts on the set of The Clink today.  We need more females in the cast.  Then we’d be less likely to pollute the atmosphere of Andrew’s office.  Note to self:  never go back to Andrew’s office.


That’s a lot of fake blood we’re putting on these vinyl floor tiles.  I wonder if they’ll stain.


Lots of males & females on the set of The Cheap Seats today.  I think I shit myself.

and of course…


OK, maybe I shouldn’t keep a film journal.

Friday, August 5, 2011

Based in Reality (from 8/5/2007)

Since I no longer write NEW blog entries (I'm very lazy), here's one from this day 4 years ago...

Sunday, August 5, 2007

Based in Reality...

I’m at Philly International on Sunday picking up my goodest buddy Gordon, after his trek to nerd Mecca…San Diego’s “I am 40 and still live in my parent’s basement” Convention.

I get to the airport a few minutes after his plane is scheduled to land. I brought a book with me (The Adventures of Cavalier and Clay), because the airport runs about as smoothly as the DMV (No offensive Michelle if you read this*). I crack open my book and wait.
*editor's note - (that's me by the way, I'm editing my shit)  I don't think Mrs. Harris (used to be Ms. DeFeo) is affliated with the DMV anymore.  Wait was it her mom that worked there?  Oh, who can remember.  Back to this riveting story
After about 10 minutes I check the board. The flight isn’t even listed…Hmmm, was I supposed to pick GoHo up today? I check my phone and get a text message at that very moment. “We just landed.” I assume that Gordon means the plane just landed, or else he has some serious stories from San Diego (The Whales Vagina-just for you Tara).

I sit back down and continue to read. When a girl walks by me, holding an 8x10 glossy photo of Scarlett Johansson. “Odd,” I think and continue to read.

I get another Text Message, this time Gordon seems to be fuming (I can tell, even through text). Apparently the plane has landed but there’s this whole “to do.” “No biggie,” I text back. I keep reading. The girl with the 8x10 jumps on the escalator. Is it possible that Ms. Johansson is in Philly? Nah…but, I follow the girl up the escalator. Sure it seems like I'm stalking her, but I defend it by claiming to be stalking Scarlett Jo instead.

The airport is empty. Like the scene in Terminal, when the airport is empty. Did you see it? It was a beauty.

So I walk towards where the girl with the 8x10 is standing and I take a seat. This side of the airport looks like it should have a “closed” sign up. There is a guy with one of those big buffing machines cleaning the floors. He has on headphones and a janitor’s jump suit. It makes me think of an 80’s film. Not one in particular, but just any old 80’s movie.

So I attempt to read again, but a smattering of teenage girls start to appear holding 8x10 glossies. What the hell is going on? I decide that whatever hellaciousness is about occur, I want no part of it. I wasn’t the only one as an enormous black man in a suit walks past the girls escorted by a young woman in sunglasses and a fisherman’s cap. Just then I get another text message, “Heading to Baggage Claim D.” I start to gather my belonging’s which, as I already pointed out, was the book I had in my hands.  And leave the gawking girls behind.

I turn the same corner that the couple I had just seen disappeared behind. Once I do, I noticed that Ms Paul (remember the hat?) was now solo. Her companion must have stopped off to use the "facilities." As I near her she sticks her hand into her purse. I imagine it's to pull out some lip stick or some fishing bait. As she does this the whole contents of her purse empty on the floor.

This happens to all of us. A person drops something and we have that secondary pause of, “Should I help them.” It’s not a mean thing, but we're all in a rush. For a split second I was going to keep going…but then my upbringing kicks in. I stop and bend down to help.

“Thank you so much. God I’m a klutz." A voice I vaguely recognize says.
“Nah, it happens to everyone. I can’t tell you how many times I wear khaki pants and spill water on them making look like I peed,” is all I can come up with.
“Yeah, that’s not really the same thing,” she laughs.

We have a nice conversation, about what I don't remember.  I look past the sunglasses (at 12:00 at night) and past the fisherman’s cap and realize who it is I’m looking at.

“He’s your bodyguard isn’t he?” I ask, proving I’d unraveled the mystery.
“Yeah. He had to pee. Good thing he’s not wearing Khakis.” She says in a *weirdly seductive way.
*editor's note - (me again) how does one say that line in a weirdly seductive way?  I was there & even I don't know what it means.

I realize we’re bonding over another man’s pants, or lack of them.

“What are you doing in Philly?” I ask.
“A friend of mine, Rachel Weisz, is shooting a film here.” She says as I hand her the last of the contents of her purse. I find it odd that she says her friend’s whole name.

She tells me they’re shooting in West Chester this week. Some best seller book that Julie loves. I tell her I’m from West Chester and she says we should get together out there for drinks some night. I figure she’s kidding or blowing me off or both, but I still give her my phone number (I might have forgotten to mention Julie).
Julie and I laughed at the story when I recounted it for her later, and that was that…until last night.

We were sitting on the couch watching the Phillies beating the Brewers 5 to 1. My cell phone rings and it’s a (310) number I don’t recognize. I answer it thinking it might be a contractor I deal with.

Me: “Hello?”
SJ: “Kevin?”
Me: “Yeah?”
SJ: “It’s Scarlett.”

I don't know anyone named Scarlett.  look at Julie as if she’s going to help me. Then it dawns on me…

Me: “Oh. Hey what’s goin on?”
SJ: “I’m at a place in West Chester called Kooma. Wanna meet up?”
Me: “Uh, sure. Where?”
SJ: “We were thinking of going to Kildaire’s down the street.”
Me: “Oh.” (Very unenthused).
SJ: “No good?”
Me: “I guess. It’s just that place is always packed.”
SJ: “Do you know a quiet more intimate place we could meet up?”
Me: “Of course!”

And that ladies and gentlemen is how I got Scarlett Johansson to go to the Square Bar. If you were there you might not have recognized her with her “mask” on.

Some side notes:

-Yes Gordon got home okay.
-Yes the Brewers came back to beat the Phillies.
-Yes Scarlett made reference to “spilling” something on my Khaki’s at the Square Bar.

Tune in next time and learn how I got Christina Ricci to eat at Harry’s Hotdogs.