izabel

First of all. I am in love with Lynzy's set. I love how she's not looking at the camera, how her hair looks dirty, how her nipples aren't ALWAYS hard. How she's got those really old-school socks and shoes and it's not Scoop-"styley" or Victoria's Secret slick, and there weren't five assistants doing the lights to make her look as much as possible like Playboy meat. I mean, shit is out of focus!!! She looks HUMAN! Thanks Meridian and Lynzy. And thanks to whoever let this set go up despite SG's current QVC - style sales agenda.

Second of all. The straw came down. It's probably from all the effort I was putting into feigning sanity -- it finally drove me nuts... So yeah, I've snapped, I'm unhinged. It feels fine. It feels fucking awesome. God, nothing makes any sense, not that it ever did, but here I am, making no sense, having no fucking idea what's gonna happen a minute from now. And I feel awestruck by the sheer irrelevance of it.

This must be some form of manic depression. Right? I dunno. Who cares. It's where home is.

I know there's a girl or two out there who knows what I'm talking about. I don't know if I'll come across her, or she across me, but it's one more reason to be here. Co-loopiness is always more fun than doing it solo.

Although solo is good too.

I am so fucking excited about this ridiculous short film I'm making. I just bought a Law Enforcement Riot Helmet. On Ebay! I gotta paint it, it's not quite right. But the fact that I get to buy riot gear makes me love this project. The lead, Erin, will be dressed in patriotic red white and blue. (Her shirt is white and blue stripes!) The character she plays is a notorious cop killer and leader of a violent female militia called PETAL, who's plotting to bring down the current U.S. regime. Only days away from fulfilling her goal, she's not exactly tolerant of obstacles as petty as some random punk trying to steal her bike. This is where our film begins . . . At first I thought, it would be a Jim Jarmusch spoof. But now I want it way more serious -- Westerns come to mind, those Sergio Leone bad boys with Clint saying three lines the entire film. (Fistful of Dollars.) Maybe I'll call mine Fistful of Collars. . .

Location scouting is excrutiating in this weather. I bought a new coat (actually, it's from the 50s, a military hooded parka with the most intense heat insulation I've ever experienced in a piece of clothing). It's still brutal though. How do I come up with these fucking WINTER projects? What possesses me? Insanity, of course. Stupidity too.

I gotta work a little at Todd's too.

Max Headroom? Headgroom? Headworm? -- falling asleep to it is not recommended.