Space Dandy is awesome but all I'm gonna do is (kinda)quote the monologue on butts

Boobies, boobies, boobies... It's all guys think about these days.
Well, they're idoits.
Show me a boob-man an' I'll show you a no-brain, no-class, knuckle-dragger 
that knows nothing of the fairer sex
They don't get it. 
You can't take the measure of a good woman just by oogling her chest!
There are fair more important things to consider, such as...
(Ah c'mon! Are you even listening!? I'm tryin' to drop some knowledge here!)
See, if yer enlightened like I am, then you know
that the real show
is down below...

THE BOOTY, BABY!
That's where it's at!
Nothing trumps the rump, my friend!
Anyone that can't see that is either blind or a fool.
That's why I say: Enough with this Mass Boob Hysteria (MBoobH).
It's time to set things right.
IT'S TIME TO GIVE THE ASS THE RESPECT IT DESERVES!
So many women have been wronged for too long.
Like poor (insert girl I know with huge breast). 
Objectified ONLY for her boobs! It's a crime I tell ya!

Stuff I say on Skype: ANIMATION LESSON TYME!!!! (Superman TAS)

[7/21/10 8:18:13 AM] Andre L Churchwell Jr.: The DCAU (DC comics Animated Universe) forever changed the superhero's of the DC comicbooks by applying them to a cartoon show with all the best truisms and character traits that each superhero was known for in their mythology.

[7/21/10 8:21:09 AM] Andre L Churchwell Jr.: The truist adaption of Superman to this date: Superman: the Animated Series brought all the interpretations of Supes (the movies, the tv shows) and made damn sure to throw in everything from the comics that made Superman the great character that he is. For an example I decided to cut to the chase and show you the best fight scene of the series which they geniusly saved for the last episode.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iTECNKpZAM4

[7/21/10 8:26:07 AM] Andre L Churchwell Jr.: Notice that this opponet, Darkseid, has never been seen outside of the comicbooks and maybe (if you want to count) the couple times he showed up on Super Friends: The Legendary Super Powers Show (1984) and The Super Powers Team: Galactic Guardians (1985) both times voiced by Frank Welker (Doctor Claw from Inspector Gadget:"I'LL GET YOU NEXT TIME GADGET!!").

Also notice that this is the first opponent who is, in this setting, STRONGER THAN SUPERMAN. That means Supes can't just wail on him and hopes he gives up before killing somebody, Superman is forced to think outside of the box to win this battle (which is exactly what he is known for in his comicbook world...sometimes).

[7/21/10 8:51:28 AM] Andre L Churchwell Jr.: This fight is pitch perfect especially if you've been watching all the way up till now. A great Superman Series with a Finale that challenge the character. Up until now Supes actual hadn't fought anyone who was a murderer...of a supporting charcter, Dan Turpin a Metropolis policeman, that The Big S knew. He had been brainwashed previously by Darkseid to destroy not only cities and large military bases but his reputation as a trusted hero to the masses. PLUS the first time Superman or the Audience sees Darkseid this happens:

Darkseid is about to leave through a portal.

Superman: "Who are you?"

Darkseid: *Shoots LAZERBEAMS out of his eyes and brings Superman to such agony that he gets knocked out*

Superman: "ARRRGGGHHH!"

Darkseid: "That's who I am."

[7/21/10 8:51:34 AM] Andre L Churchwell Jr.: Episode here: http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xbmmih_superman-s02e15-fathers-day_shortfilms

The future is so bright, it looks like the after flash of a hydrogen bomb.

NFI is starting classes Monday. They don't have many people in those classrooms. About four students at one time. The Nashville Film Institute will have one more student to add to its roster. One who mugged his way through a high school performance of "Guys and Dolls" as Lieutenant Brannigan. One who blogs about said experience AND TAKES FROM 10pm TO 8:17am TO WRITE A DAGGUM POST. SCIENCE H. LOGIC, THE INTERNET IS AN EVERPLEASING WHORE.
(Just look they were playing Outlaw Star and now they're giving me this Canadian show ReBoot)

Well I do want to become a better writer so my task today is to read. And not read comicbooks, (d'oh! My foolproof plan to read 15 comics sequentially at Borders is ruined!) but hardback ones. I'm talking about those clunky motherfuckers. The kind of books that could replace the yellow pages as the choice of torture weapon in a police station's interrogation room. The kind of book OLD people used to, and still can, read. The kind of book Oprah masterbates to. THAT book.

...
Well, not THAT book but I found one that has just as much width (mix that medium of measurement with that Oprah comment and a funny little picture will creep into your mind) as the dreaded book club book without the sass you intake from discussing it with friends and strangers at the mall. I'm talking about (has to look for the book to find the title) "Edgeworks 3 by Harlan Ellison". Yes, that Harlan Ellison. One of the most prolific, celebrated science fiction writers of the last 100 years. I knew a lot about him from Patton Oswalts pervasive rants. His name would fall out of Oswalt's mouth more than a few times. What struck me is how hard it was to actually find some stuff of his at a bookstore. Borders, Barnes & Nobles and Davis Kidd were bone dry of the stuff. It was only at libraries and the cartoonishly volumed Bookman & Bookwoman that I would find one book of his. Each time, a different one.

My local library had a Graphic Novel (SQUEEEEEEE) collection of some of his short stories with him walking in-between stories like a cross between Alfred Hitchcock, the Crpyt Keeper, and Robert Duvall (it fits. IT FITS I TELL YOU!).
My distant library in downtown Nashville had I believe one or was that Warren Ellis' "Crooked Little Vein" that I was so distracted by it opened up a portal in time for a samurai to pop out of. I named the samurai "Jack" for he had no name and I am black. I am black and call those who are unfamiliar to me "Jack" so as to label them in some fashion and keep a sense of civility up in the air.
I forget what book they had of his at Bookmanwoman but it wasn't the usually collection of short stories. When I have $8, I must remember to pay them a vis.
Most recently, my local classy library (it has glass ceilings and places to put your fedora and coat everything) perhaps listened to my written requests for A. The Wire in the DVD section (You have "Boys Don't Cry" the collectors edition and the latest season of "Cory In the House" and "Desperate Housewives" but no seasons of "the best show on television" by TIME magazine, Entertainment Weekly, The Chicago Tribune, Slate Mag, the San Francisco Chronicle, The Philadelphia Daily News, and the Gaurdian.Go out and buy this is what I'm trying to convey here.
OH WAIT I'M SUPPOSE TO BE READING BOOKS. So yeah, I see two Harlan Ellison books. I grab the one that has "Harlan Ellison's Movie" as one of the stories. It was due yesterday afternoon before 5:30pm. I showed up to the library around 7:15pm, knockin' on doors and the like. I posted up in the parkin' lot with my trunk playing "Dr. Feelgood" and me reading the first 3 or 4 pages. Shit was so cash.

Hmm, it seems I have delinated my vocabulary onto an 4chan meme without any thought of it.
Damn.

A CALL TO ARMS: YOU HAVE SOMETHING OF MINE JANAUL

A former friend of mine has stolen property of mine and has had it for two quarters.

Janaul Blount, the friend in question, has his claims and disputes but this is what happened:

I had a Dreamcast (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dreamcast). I carried it with me wherever I went. Causing many a turmoil but never worse for the wear. I snuck it into my college dorm hiding it from my anti-video game parents ("Is that a Game-Boy!?" "Mom, it's a cellphone" "How come there's games on it?" "Phones can have games on them." "No they can't. They are meant to call people ONLY" "SIGH...").
I would play it, not in my room as it was prestinely devoid of a tv, in a friends room (we'll call this friend: Jamil). So much so, that I ended up asking him to keep it there instead of lugging it with me whenever someone got the itch to play "Marvel Vs. Capcom 2". What surprised me, and should have been a red flag, is that he said he would allow it in his room but promised that he held to responsibilty if anything happened to my system. I balked at the idea of him allowing something to happened without telling me and proceeded to not have it with me in my room.

Next quarter, I come straight to Jamil and ask for my Dreamcast back from his room.
He resoundly says he disavows knowledge of ever keeping the Dreamcast in his room (Def Con 2). He allows me to search the room feeling sorry for me and keeps telling me that my proposition never was... propositioned.
I freak for a week.
No leads.
No witnesses.
Nothing.
(I realized I'm putting a lot of theatre into this But it means a lot to me to get this back in my hands. I won't be able to be transported back to when I was 15 by plugging in my Dreamcast if I have no Dreamcast. There is a strong feeling there and I would rather lose it through the thought of me doing something wrong to my system then someone else keeping it and thinking it's theirs when it isn't.)

Janaul has my SCAD card. I'm a big pushover when it comes to wanting to help people with their money problems and Janaul convinces me to use my card to pay for his laundry that he can't seem to afford card-wise.
It begins to get late and he isn't answering his phone or appearing where he said he would to give me back my SCAD card (I get it back but this leads to the Dreamcast so hang on). I ask around and I find his begotten room. He's in there. Why won't he answer my calls then? I see people I know in his room (there not in SCAD anymore so I don't feel the need to include their pseudonyms) so I call one of them and look in at the reaction. He/She ignores my call!
I start to become very paranoid then I see something that looks like Son Son fighting something that looks like Cyclops on Janaul's television screen. "Marvel vs Capcom 2". He has it. Why wouldn't he let me in on it if he had a console that played the game I used to play? After all, he and I were friends who mostly battled each other in fighting games such as MvC2 on my Dreamcast. What if the reason they won't pick up the call so that I can come and get my SCAD card is so that I don't come into the room? And what if they don't want me in the room playing MvC2 because they are doing it on a Dreamcast they stole from me?
I knock.
I rudely ask to come in and see what they're doing and accuse Janaul of theivery (Not the move I would have done in hindsight)
Janaul pushes the door close on my footgiving me my card back while he does.
I threaten to call security if I'm not let in, I scream.
"Go ahead" is Janaul's retort. (This puzzled me. Wouldn't he just want to avoid getting kicked off campus in favor of swallowing his pride?)
Long story short; I didn't stay by the door to keep watch of who comes out. Security comes along with two RAs and search his room and find two Dreamcast controllers that are not mine but his. I have a meltdown, having felt as if I destroyed a friendship and wondered why Janaul just didn't let me in and prove me wrong instead of going through a two and a half hour ordeal.

This happened last quarter.
I trust what I saw. That was my game in that room. Janaul kept me out so I wouldn't catch him red handed. There were Dreamcast controllers in his room for what oher purpose? Why would I keep this up if this all didn't happen?

I would like to have a meeting with Janaul and a RD moderator before Friday.
He thinks it's his I hear. Well, if he can hold up a decent argument without closing a door I may think differently. For now, the man is a cheat, a liar, and a manipulator.

The hell is up with all this goodness?

THE HELL?!

I just finished having the best weekend ever and now I gotta finish some dumb ole' sketch for Life Drawing class?
The fuck, man.

Anywho, I twittered my ass off (but not even as much as I really should have), I played motherfuckin' football (flag football, but football nonetheless) on a battle of the sexes, I got back together with the radio team, I helped people with their issues of relationships, art queries, politics, genital issues, etc., I saw "Funny Games", "The Powerpuff Girl's Movie" and "Taxi Driver" for the first awesome times, I went out eating lobster with my mom and dad and girl who should be a friend (Krystal the Christian as I refer to her because that's her explaination for talking to me), I talk some crazy bullshit, saw Henry Rollins on Thursday and Nick Swardson on Friday.

All this and I'm not nearly done with this school year.
OH HELL NAW I AIN'T.

I found the mustard to ask Sir Swardson for an interview after a show with a made up press-pass. I wanted my school radio to have an interview or if it wasn't recorded than the school paper. I somehow kept at it and swung it. I'm waiting on the reply from his e-mail with baited breath. This has the distinct chance of not working out but hey, it was worth the shot, right?

Rollins. HOLY INTENSE SHIT.
Every subject was lobotomized by this dude.
After the show, he chastised some philanderer who missed the show but showed up to the "poetry reading" for not letting him get to his long line of autograph signées.
"I gave you my time but as you can see there are a lot of people here that I have to talk to"
"Yeah, so when are you comin' back to-"
"Did you hear what I just said, sir? Now I am trying to be pleasant but please do not let me resort to violence."
(the other guy dissolves)
"Thank you." (Goes back to writing and chattin' it up with the fans)

Got an e-mail from him too:
Drepants, thanks man. Keep filling the notebooks. Henry

I'm so fucking pleased as mothafuckin' punch.

I need sleep but THAT IS FOR THE WEAK.
Going to finish this fucking bone shit if it kills me.
Life drawing can suck a big hefty one.

OH I promised to Tyrone that I would not only make a blogger website for him but also get him an interview with my radio as well as play his songs on there. I'm obligated to help out whenever I can.

This is a new post. You may now dance the Dance of Rebirth!

I working on a story right now.
If it will be a ALLWORDS novel/la, a comicbook mini or a small-time video complete with bad acting and jerky hand-held moments that were not supposed to be there but if brought the audience "into the moment" I'll say, "yeah...I meant that!", no one can say right now.

Especially not me.
Look at me; you think I plan anything?
I'm a methhead chasing ambulances to hospitals.
I wouldn't know what to do if I...got hold of a hypodermic needle. So to speak.

It's a D&D inspired dialouge fest. Hopefull if I get my players talking about enough stuff maybe they'll happen on something you'll like.

I really just want to start an idea and finish with a product, as a tell my child therapist Dr. Needle. At least I think her name is Doctor Needle.
Some last names should make you exempt from being a doctor.
Payne.
Hertz.
I heard from Mr. Rod, my 9th grade Physics teacher, that some girl had a dad whose a dentist named "Dr. Slaughter"


Irony really makes life worth living.

I should also get out that I want to work on a book that follows the day of a grown-kid visiting his highschool 3 years later. K-K-K-K-KRAY-ZINESS! (note to self: next time use C's, less racist that way towards myself)

"Autobiographical", you say? What, what? (there goes the [Talking like I'm british tag] AGAIN)
Difinitely autobiographical, with similar people (with changed names..sometimes), an odd main character, a compositing of 2 or 3 different people into one to save time (and energy) and all done an 3 hour period from 12:10pm to 3:17pm.
EASY.
EASY. EASY.
HAAARD.
EASY!

(note to self: call your old theater teacher Mr. G. It's the least you can do)


Oh, and I'm reading Transmetropolitan. It's a RapeFest...but in a good way. Scratch that shit, it makes me want to go outside and punch authority figures. FUCKING AWESOME is the name I have for this series now. Why isn't this posted on telephone poles in major metropolitan cities?

Edit:
http://paprpapr.blogspot.com/
Bud Ries has a magazine/blog. This little improv demon was sooo nice to me in my early high school years. I repay the favor by posting his blog on my blog that no one is watching. YOU'RE WELCOME. BUD!

Double Edit:
Vice Presidents? I don't give a shi-ooooh it's a la-daay! 20 months of being Gov. of Alaska, you say? FORMER MISS WASILLA, YOU SAY?! Well, sign me uh-oh that's right I'm voting for the historic moment in race relations for the United States rather than pleasuring myself to hot pics of the VP when she was "Sarah Barracada" on her high school basketball team.

Hawt Pix of Sarah Palin ballin'.

Biden? I'm sure there were more intellectual choices but this is a political choice so it sucks.
It'll probably help him get elected. It sucks.
It'll give him that "tough America" edge. Shit sux.
Okay, now I'm being a bastard.

What not to say during 'Live Models' class:

I just came (THREE TIMES!! LOL!) from my first class of Live Drawing 102 and that shit is great. The Teacher isn't much of an orator. And every one was on pins and needles waiting for the nude model to come out. Of cos' all I could think of was the naughtiest shiznitle ('opens hand, puts palm to face') things to say.

• "Hey, could you um, spread those...apart. Yes, I'm sorry, but I'm far better at drawing caverns and shadows!"
• "Should we get nude. Y'know to make her feel (failed to mention the femaleness of the model) more comfortable."
• "Duct tape. Duct tape. Duct tape. Duct tape. Duct tape. Duct tape. Duct tape. (Deadpool joke? YES!)"
• " (audible whisper) THIS CLASS IS FUCKING AWESOME. I GET GRADED BY THE BOOB."
• " I know I'm not supposed to have a boner, because it's art or whatever, but I DO. I REALLY DO!" Girl from the class: "Shutup! You're freaking everyone out!" Me:" I KNOW!"
• " What if I'm so good that we end up using my drawings as models if the models don't show up?"

That last one might not get you (aka me) kicked out of class but the others should do the job.

I think this is therapeutic as well as helpful (cause those two things NEVER EVER-VER go together :). I could list all the possible phrases that could possible-ly get me kicked out while a live model is nuding it up on the stage and avoid them!!
OR this could lodge in my brain and I say them everywhere I go.

It's a nervous feeling in class because there are OTHER PEOPLE joining in my professional voyeurism. It's not the butt and tits that make it weird which is weird to write here...on the fap-ternet. But the reason a lady's private parts are taboo at all is because they're..well, private.
Doug Stanhope has a bit on this. (My stand-up comic in me feels the need to mention this at this point) If the girl next to me bends over and I can see her cleavage, I'm all like "Oooo titty!" shifting my focus from the nude model on stage. Either way, I see shit that everybody outside (and a fair amount inside) the door of the classroom would freak out at so I'm a Pleased-Panda.




Failed at finding the damn picture of Deadpool saying duct tape. So here's this:

He's crazy.


CRAZY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Edit: Retractions: It's the complete opposite when you're staring at wing-wam the entire 2 and half hours.
In summary,

Boobs:

:)

song playing in my head: "Oh Happy Day" from Sister Act 2: Back in the Act

Dicks:

:(

song playing in my head: "Thank You For Being A Friend" from the Golden Girls (well, that song gets a lot of play in my head regardless)

I bring this gift to you. Out of the easiness of copy and pasting.

Sarah Silverman singing with Matt Damon!! - video powered by Metacafe

This just proves my point that serious actors or celebrities who can act makes stuff funny. (Andre's Thesis of Relative Stardom #3)
I can't believe I got that to work.
I rock. Cock.

Anyhoop, I hear that a comedian I know of is coming to a comedy club in Atlanta (finally).
I don't like wasting $30 unless I'm sure the man/woman/ape with a mallet can bring the heat (hey! a baseball term!)
Greg Fitzsimmons from Best Week Ever, and his Comedy Central Presents special (I mean, only the laypeople know this fine stand-up from these venues! Bah-Humbug.) I saw him on Comedy Central and craved more. MOAR DAMMIT. Well seasoned, not polarizing to audiences (aka not political), self-deprecating, y'know the kind of comic I'd like to become. (that italized 'I' seems pompous to me. Eh? Like I'm saying: "WHO ELSE BUT GOD AND I!")

So, he's going to be at the Punchline from the 7th of Feb. to the 9th. All I need now is a ride (feet) and $20 (some "deep favors").

Oh and before I go (like anyone is waiting on me/reading this), go see Rambo!
It's written and directed by the guy who did that last Rocky movie and jeez does it turn the Burmese military into human steak sauce. Rambo guns down more men in the last part of this movie than Rocky's I, II, or III (although I have not seen Rocky III and I missed some of Rocky I and II. They looked well varnished with the blood of the many to me. Eh.) There's some good storytelling going on before the Vietnam vet starts punching holes through people so it's enjoyable on other levels.
What will stick with me through life (ah god, I hope not) is that I saw this black family bring all there kids to see Rambo kick ass without the common courtesy of taking their names first. Not 12 or 13 year olds, I saw 6 and 5 and 8 year olds IN THE FRONT ROW.( When I close my eyes, I can still hear their cute little screams of mercy.) Was this punishment? Was this some form of child training? ("It's so they don't grow up all queer, alright? Do you have yer answers?") The Spartans have agoge and Atlanta children, at the age of 5 hopefully, will see, nay, MUST see Sly Stallone turning Burmese soldiers into soldier kabob? There were boobs on screen at one point.
BOOBS!!

He rips a guy's jugular vein out with massive fingers.
Well, I guess it was this or "Meet the Spartans". Apparently I was the only one to not have seen that godforsaken Satan's pussy of a movie. Me and Michael Cypress, that is. Go My-Cy!