tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21514193326482007522024-03-13T23:40:49.187-06:00Tristachio: Just A Bit NuttyThe adventures of a young Filmmaker who struggles to make you laugh until you awkwardly piss your pants in a coffee shop. Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.comBlogger205125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-71157657788387367652013-01-13T21:37:00.000-07:002013-01-13T21:37:33.626-07:00My Favorite YouTube Video Of All Time<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/itvJybdcYbI" width="420"></iframe>
<br />
<br />
<br />
I've got to say that THIS music video is my all time favorite YouTube video I have ever watched. I've shared it with everyone I have ever met (And those that I haven't even met) because I. JUST. CAN'T. STOP. WATCHING. IT!<br />
<br />
I never really was a fan of the old He-Man cartoons but this? This is just magic.<br />
<br />
And my favorite part of this? When the Chef is sitting in the kitchen, stirring the soup, and the music is muted in the background as if he was missing THE GREATEST PARTY EVER! But he's OK with it. Because he's the Chef. And he's got to make the soup just right. For the party. He's not invited too. Because he's the Chef.<br />
<br />
And then he goes home and cries to his mother.<br />
<br />
Who's dead.<br />
<br />
And still in his room.<br />
<br />
And the music is catchy.<br />
<br />
I guess.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z-sP8eKq40I" target="_blank">Why did I write about my favorite Youtube video? Because of these guys and their awesome scripted drama's on Youtube! </a>Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-81643547175068176222013-01-13T14:16:00.000-07:002013-01-13T14:16:35.254-07:00You Are Not The Father<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q6emypKnVEc/UPMj8FGNH2I/AAAAAAAAA4s/xK_mZTxUCn4/s1600/LKBazoo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q6emypKnVEc/UPMj8FGNH2I/AAAAAAAAA4s/xK_mZTxUCn4/s1600/LKBazoo.jpg" height="400" width="309" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"My sperm, they've still got it!" - Larry King to the surprise of everyone ever.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I think Womb Mate might have some explaining to do.Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-89527080988612763462013-01-10T12:35:00.004-07:002013-01-10T12:35:55.689-07:00You Should Give Me MoneyI know Christmas is over and everyone is all "Meh, Charity sucks balls and since Santa isn't around to guilt me into helping anyone I'm going to say FUCK YOU to all Charity and sleep until next Christmas!" and I get that, I'm like that too.<br />
<br />
I'd sooner punch someone in the nuts then think about Christmas Charity.<br />
<br />
But, my birthday is coming up this Saturday and I'm going to be old as balls (Read as 25) and you know what would be a great birthday gift?<br />
<br />
If you head over to <a href="http://fiverr.com/">Fiverr.com</a> and <a href="http://fiverr.com/tristachio" target="_blank">pay for me to write you something</a>! Or, make you a movie trailer.<br />
<br />
OR SOMETHING!<br />
<br />
Because, you know, I like to eat and you need money to eat.<br />
<br />
And you guys love me, right?<br />
<br />
RIGHT?Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-12390835946816243502013-01-07T10:00:00.000-07:002013-01-08T22:15:04.442-07:00Smell My Finger. No, Really, Smell It.Sometimes, when I'm out in public, and I see people sniffing apples or sampling perfume I wonder if they are actually doing this an excuse to sniff their fingers and make sure it doesn't smell like Vagina or Dick.<br />
<br />
Scratching dick leaves a stink on your fingers, right?<br />
<br />
Because if not, I'm calling BULLSHIT because why are guys allowed to run around touching their penis and no one can tell because their fingers don't stink.<br />
<br />
Why can't girls have that type of diddle secrecy.Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-71337564983957003902013-01-04T08:00:00.000-07:002013-01-04T08:00:08.044-07:00A New Year, A New DedicationYou know what? It's a New Year and everyone is like "Oh, Let's make resolutions about things that will improve my life and give me money and happiness and make my less fat!" and I was totally all, Wow, that is a smart thing to do, I'm going to do that too!<br />
<br />
But then I realized, <i>fuck</i>, that takes <i>work</i>. Like, <i>so</i> much work.<br />
<br />
And then I watched Netflix for the hundredth time.<br />
<br />
Then it dawned on me that I can totally make my Blog my resolution.<br />
<br />
I'm going back to my regular posting schedule come hell or high water or multiple posts of internet cats.<br />
<br />
But, you all want the Internet Cats, don't you?<br />
<br />
Don't you?<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hQ8Xo135wSk/UOXxV7z1xTI/AAAAAAAAA4U/W1ql9X6YfSA/s1600/funny-pictures-cat-from-the-internet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="351" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hQ8Xo135wSk/UOXxV7z1xTI/AAAAAAAAA4U/W1ql9X6YfSA/s400/funny-pictures-cat-from-the-internet.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-24178639211656332212012-12-08T09:06:00.000-07:002012-12-08T09:06:13.506-07:00So, I Made This Commercial So, this one time, I had to make this commercial of this well known product for Film School and during the filming of it, I may or may not been indirectly involved with our Actress losing a layer of skin on her shoulder because one of the men chasing her got too enthusiastic when we told him to tackle her and they missed the grass by an inch and hit the cement instead. And she was bleeding all over and it was really cold and we had her in shorts but figured "Fuck it, we aren't rich, we shouldn't have to provide blankets!" and then she slightly froze until our shoot was over.<br />
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And then she later came back to do a pants-less music video for us. She's a trooper.<br />
<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/wIsv5mW6eKI?list=UUW_lWO-Kr42TvsyNE3wNFDw&hl=en_US" width="560"></iframe>Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-87666645284511672572012-12-04T00:47:00.003-07:002012-12-04T00:47:39.512-07:00It's Been A Long, Long Time.It's been an awful long time since I have blogged anything and I'm going to, once again, blame it on having such a busy schedule.<br />
<br />
Film School is going great, life is just peachy, and everything is dandy.<br />
<br />
Except that, y'know, I'm getting to a point with this blog that I'm afraid I might have run out of things to say. What can I say to my audience that will tickle their feathers and boner their wieners?<br />
<br />
I'm afraid I've lost the magic that sent my fingers typing in a flurry of flanges.<br />
<br />
Perhaps I can talk about the music video I just did where the actress spent 90% of the time running around in a shirt, a bowler hat, and no underwear and we didn't discover this until we asked her to straddle and ride on the back of a Panda.<br />
<br />
Or perhaps I can talk about how another actress involved brought her cute puppy a long to the shoot until we all realized it was in the middle of heat and bleeding all over the place.<br />
<br />
Wouldn't it be funny if I mentioned how I may or may not have broken an old French man's back and instead of sending him to the hospital we gave him a bunch of random pills we found in a shady little pill box and then forced him to keep fake playing guitar while a near naked boy danced next to him?<br />
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It'd be more hilarious if I tickled your fancy with a story about how said music video was shut down because a rumor went around the school that we were going to force naked ladies to crawl through the mud while a child wearing full bondage dragged her around on a collar.<br />
<br />
But, alas, my life has been pretty dull and I've lost the drive to tell funny, witty stories. I might as well curl up with my asshole dog and give up.Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-75587284524624106962012-10-28T14:12:00.001-06:002012-10-28T14:14:57.582-06:00CREEK SHOW! Ded Jeremy Presents: Creek Show.
This film was submitted into my first festival and it may not have won any prizes, but it sure did win the crowds heart and became the Audience Favorite of the night.
The making of this has a crazy back story that I'm in the process of writing, but in the mean time enjoy!
<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/hX4S319tjVc" width="560"></iframe>Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-63615269331641473972012-09-26T10:42:00.001-06:002012-09-26T10:42:05.603-06:00Vote Or She WILL Kill You.I'm sending this blog post on behalf of Womb Mate who has alerted me to the fact that if I didn't share it and if y'all <i>didn't</i> vote, she would kill all of us. And after knowing her for all of her life, she will do it. She'll straight up murder y'all.<br />
<br />
She entered my Nephew, the adorable devil, into some contest about who has the cutest dirty kid and you can possibly win some money for it and she promised me that if she won the money she'd, y'know, not throw some of it my way so I'll get to karate chop her in the uterus sometime in the future for not sharing. And that would be freakin' sweet.<br />
<br />
And so far the winner of it is some stinky <i>old</i> kid doing nothing cute at all because they are old and not baby cute.<br />
<br />
My Nephew? He's baby cute.<br />
<br />
So go vote <a href="http://bit.ly/Qkpa8W" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
<br />
OR WE WILL ALL DIE.<br />
<br />Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-5707412521360900852012-09-21T13:02:00.002-06:002012-09-21T13:02:35.051-06:00Just Because I'm Drunk Doesn't Mean I Still Don't Care.So, it seems again I am writing another blog post about how "I'm still alive, just too cool to hang out with you blog people because I HAVE A LIFE!" and y'know what? Even I am getting sick of it.<br />
<br />
I should really be posting here more because my life is pretty exciting right now. Like, did I mention that I won some money to make a Short Horror Film for a festival? OF COURSE I DIDN'T! Because I've been neglecting telling these stories.<br />
<br />
Y'all should really add me to facebook because I always talk there about the cool shit going on.<br />
<br />
Right now I'm on summer break from school and you know what I did? I went and hung out with a baby for almost a week. Well, I'm still hanging out with a baby. Womb Mate's baby who is now a year old and just a <i>monster</i>. But a loveable monster who shrieks and points and wobbles around on his fat legs like a belligerent drunk.<br />
<br />
I also most likely got a job editing professionally. How did I manage to pull that off? BECAUSE I AM AWESOME. And I sent a lot of emails. <i>A lot of emails</i>.<br />
<br />
I'm going to start posting more (I know, I know, I said this a lot already) and update what is going on in Film School and my life.<br />
<br />
I promise.<br />
<br />
And I may or may not be lying on that promise. WE SHALL SEE.Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-14731795342738311862012-09-05T10:20:00.003-06:002012-09-05T10:21:47.197-06:00Most Important Meal Of The Day. And Time Travel<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/fE76Ze6qKS0" width="640"></iframe>
<br />
<br />
Presenting one of the projects two fellow students and myself handed in yesterday. It blew away the other projects and left our Department Head a quivering puddle of goo in the corner. I've got to say, I'm never doing a Time Travel story again WITHOUT identical twins. That shit is fucking hard.<br />
<br />
Also, the two Film Students and I have created a film collective called DED JEREMY. It's where we will be posting group projects for school and outside of school.<br />
<br />
We have a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/user/DedJeremy?feature=mhee" target="_blank">youtube account.</a> You should probably suscribe too.<br />
<br />
We also have <a href="https://twitter.com/DedJeremy" target="_blank">Twitter</a> and sometimes witty banter on it. You should probably follow it. <br />
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We also have a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/DedJeremy" target="_blank">Facebook</a> that you should probably like and help us take over the world. <br />
<br />
Check them out and show the love! Or the hate. We'll take that too. After all, we're desperate Film Students. <br />
<br />Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-4563084512799582302012-08-21T23:21:00.000-06:002012-08-21T23:21:16.930-06:00I Tired Of These Mother Fucking Ants In This Mother Fucking Livingroom.Nothing is better than coming home from school to hear "Hey, Sweetums, how good are your eyes?" and I'm like, "Dude, I wear glasses, are you making fun of me? How much times do I have to slap you in the face until you get it right?". But, y'know, I go into the living room anyways because whenever The Pilot wants to show me something it's always something sort of cool.<br />
<br />
Like the time he found and captured an injured hawk. Yeah, we totally found an injured hawk and did a total "Let's rescue this awesome animal and resist the temptation of raising it as an attack pet." and sent it off to an Owl Rehab Center. He might have also been named Falco Peachtree the 3rd. Because, y'know, he was a classy as fuck bird.<br />
<br />
So, I go into the living room and I'm like "I can't really see what the problem is here what are you trying....oh fuck, Ants! ARE THOSE ANTS? WHY ARE ANTS IN MY HOUSE? ARE THEY GOING TO EAT ME?" and then I ran out of the house. Because, y'know, MOTHER FUCKING ANTS!<br />
<br />
The Pilot had to re-assure me that they weren't people eating Ants and that they probably were not going to leave our house carrying the television on their tiny backs or anything. So I came back into the house.<br />
<br />
And then I tried to convince the dog to eat the ants crawling all over the floor boards but he just sort of sniffed them and looked at me with a "Are you kidding me? These are mother fucking ants up in our mother fucking house, I don't think so <i>gurlfriend</i>."And then he walked away with a huff.<br />
<br />
Basically this left us with the only option of trying to find things that kill ants at stupid o'clock at night and wouldn't y'know? Midnight convenience stores aren't really packing Ant Killer or anything awesome. But they did have taquito's and hot dogs. That counted for something.<br />
<br />
7-11, though, dear sweet 7-11 had Raid. They had it right next to the deodorant. And then when we bought it we got clapped at by the workers because "Hell, we've had this stuff for four years and you are the first people to actually <i>buy</i> it from 7-11.". Made me feel like some sort of a hero. An ant killing hero.<br />
<br />
To make a long story short we sprayed the shit out of our house and managed not to kill the dog or get carried away by Ants in our sleep. Which is a bonus. Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-9470480753974382172012-08-20T08:00:00.000-06:002012-08-20T08:00:05.508-06:00I'm Getting Too Old For This ShitDesperate to find cool and hip things to do in this new town that I've been living in and having an idea in my head that it's awesome to start socializing and collecting favours from film people, I decided that I was going to agree to be a zombie in a Zombie Web-Series.<br />
<br />
This choice happened to be the beginning of the end for me and a fellow student (who I will refer to as Dougie Howser because he looks like Dougie). We decided that being on time is super important in our industry so we decided to car pool and that he'd pick me up extra early at my house so we can find the obscure location the set was going to me. We started the day bright eyed and bushy tailed. We had no idea the horrors that waited us.<br />
<br />
We first followed the directions that were sort of vague to begin with and this road took us past some expensive homes that soon turned into no homes and a random road we were pretty sure we were going to die on before we realized that we probably weren't where we were supposed to be. <br />
<br />
So we went the OTHER direction.<br />
<br />
Which, you know, happened to take us to this isolated desert area on a sand/gravel road over looking all of the valley our town sits in. We decided maybe the smart thing to do was park and wait for the rest of the crew vehicles to show up so we can make sure we are at the right place.<br />
<br />
We sat around for an hour.<br />
<br />
We played CSI by stumbling across six condoms, their wrappers, a homeless burial ground that had cans filled with bees, holes in the ground that probably had snakes in them, knives in trees and a weird plant that looked like a penis.<br />
<br />
Dougie, however, had a grand old time. He was throwing rocks down hills and then with a loud "I'M MAKING A TRAP!" he threw a rock larger than his head into the road. Remember this fact, dear readers, because it will be important in the next sentence.<br />
<br />
Eventually we got word from the rest of the crew that we were supposed to find "A silver van and yellow car" we, TA DA!, happened to see those exact cars on a ridge above us. We thought we were fucktards who spent the last hour throwing rocks twenty feet from the actual set. What we ended up finding was a house that just happened to breed puppies and have the same type of vehicles.<br />
<br />
So we turned around.<br />
<br />
And we almost crashed into Dougie's trap that would have sent us careening off of the road and down a hill. The crafty bastard.<br />
<br />
Then we get to set and get dressed up like zombies and spend two hours running around a ravine pretending to eat people. I think I had a vagina painted on my face.<br />
<br />
Once we were told to go home we found out Dougie had gotten his vehicle stuck in a sandtrap. We had to wait another two hours in the grueling sun watching for someone to come save us. We waited an extra hour after that because our rescuer got lost. While waiting concerned people rushed at us wondering if we had gotten into a car accident because we were all bloodied and our car was stuck. When we responded "Zombies, sorry." they drove away fast.<br />
<br />
After we got towed out of the sand we drove until we saw some rich house with their sprinklers on and got out in full zombie make-up to take a hobo shower in their sprinkler system.<br />
<br />
And then we went and got slurpee's in full zombie make-up and made jokes about startling raccoons. Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-6347763525111554042012-08-16T21:51:00.001-06:002012-08-16T21:51:33.715-06:00A Dose Of RealityOne of the biggest things I find that Film School wants to teach it's students is the "Reality" of the Film Industry and how "Soul crushingly lonely it will make you" so sometimes they come up with activities that help you come to the conclusion that Film will probably kill you.<br />
<br />
Like, for example, today we did an activity that involved learning what it takes to be a Location P.A. One thing we had to learn was how to handle crowds and preventing them from entering the shooting area.<br />
<br />
Naturally our Instructor was all "Let's experience what this is like so I'm going to make you three the P.A's so put these vests on and hold these walkie-talkies you can't use and you other three be people trying to get onto set." and then he let us fly at this role playing.<br />
<br />
It was only a matter of time before it de-volved into people screaming about wanting David Duchovny's autograph and a person repeating Japanese auto-makers as a fake language and accidentally karate chopping himself in the nuts.<br />
<br />
Basically, we showed our teacher we can't roleplay. Ever.<br />
<br />
Or have walkie-talkies. He took them away once he listened in on the radio and heard us going "Fart fart, butt, penis, fart, butt."<br />
<br />Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-62976448911128727952012-08-08T07:00:00.000-06:002012-08-08T07:00:07.433-06:00Sharks Wearing Suits.All it took was for <a href="http://kosherthis.blogspot.ca/%20" target="_blank">some crazy bitch</a> to open her mouth and say "Hey, There needs to be a video of Sharks swimming around to the Law & Order theme song!" for me to create, for her, the coolest damn thing in the world since sliced bread.<br />
<br />
<br /><iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Oh6udFyNZbY" width="480"></iframe>Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-9357330649164861952012-08-06T17:21:00.003-06:002012-08-06T17:21:54.037-06:00Neglectful Parenting. I Do That.The other day I was going off to The Pilot about how my parents and family have been extremely neglectful lately by not calling or texting me and the promises of them visiting us in our cool, new place had seemingly been forgotten.<br />
<br />
And right around the time The Pilot opened his mouth and was sort of telling me that "Hey, you can pick up the phone and call them or text them too, ya know. You're kind of being neglectful of them too." I kind of had a light bulb go off in my head so I pushed at his face until he shut up and was like "Dude, I'm been a horrible blog parent. Those blog kids of mine? <i>They are most likely all dead</i>. DEAD! Dead before I had a chance to remember their names and promise them birthday gifts that I have no plan on ever sending."<br />
<br />
And that was the time my guilt drove me back to my blog to write this. Are you all dead children? Have I killed you by being a bad Blog Parent? Do you blame Film School for your parents divorce and the fact that No, this year you will not be getting double Christmas presents because your parents got divorced because SURPRISE! Your parents didn't get a divorce. They decided they'll be partners in bitterness until you grow up, get a job and stop being disappointment. <i>Are you happy now? </i><br />
<br />
Now that we've got <i>that</i> out of the way, we can all be friends again. Right? <i>Right</i>?<br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>GRAND!</i><br />
<br />
On a lighter note, I took my dog on a picnic and when I was just thinking to myself "What a great fucking pet owner am I? I took the asshole out on a picnic, brought him treats and water and set up a great little picnic area!" the dog took a giant shit on my picnic blanket and then I packed it up and went home crying.<br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>I was sitting right next to him when he did that. </i><br />
<br />
So in other news, the dogs still an asshole. <i> </i>Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-5814808314466298652012-07-22T19:29:00.002-06:002012-07-22T19:29:26.745-06:00But it's a really good paying job. Honest.<br />
<br />
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And this is what happens when a group of us have time after class to make something sexy. One student always loses his shirt when things get creative. It's a process. </div>Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-61182227813766597192012-07-14T11:44:00.000-06:002012-07-14T11:44:09.093-06:00Yup. This Was Made. Get Over It.<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8EO8tV0b6E0" width="420"></iframe>Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-17818394274238367152012-07-08T23:04:00.002-06:002012-07-08T23:04:57.940-06:00Welcome To The World. Again.Whelp, I moved and I FINALLY just got my internet hooked up.<br />
<br />
Perhaps I'll properly update tomorrow a controversial topic.<br />
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You know, to spice things up a bit.Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-56912471524800029432012-06-27T16:36:00.003-06:002012-06-27T16:36:41.833-06:00Just Double Fisting Homeless PeopleRight now I am sitting in this moving limbo waiting for my new landlord to call us and say "Hey, I've got those keys that you need to open the door to your new place so you can start moving in." but, you know, he hasn't called us yet because I'm pretty sure he's in some dark alley double fisting homeless guys for some quick cash because he's a real estate agent and they have to keep their families fed somehow in this housing slump. Is there a housing slump? I have no clue.<br />
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He probably just likes double fisting for free. Keeps his hands warms on cold nights.<br />
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I'm currently living in a maze and castle of boxes filled with my things that I can't really do anything with but build protective walls that keep my asshole dog out.<br />
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I'm not good at this waiting patiently thing.Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-77190671741793721552012-06-26T13:08:00.002-06:002012-06-26T13:08:56.136-06:00It's Not My Fault You're The Least Loved ChildI'm starting to notice that I treat this blog like a red-headed step-child that I just can't shake. It sits in the corner, in the dark, starring at me with it's large eyes and freckles glowing softly as the light of a passing car shines on it's face. It just sits and waits for you to look over and make eye contact because when you make eye contact you are forced to sit for hours listening to it go on and on about it's stamp collection and how no one likes it and how it's still a virgin and plans to change it through wacky antics at prom that wont work out because it's a red-headed step-child no one will fuck.<br />
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But then I start to feel guilty that I'm leaving this red-headed step-child alone in the dark with no one to talk too but I get easily distracted by shiny things and I'm like "Oh, hey, IS THAT A BIKE?" and then I run outside with my arms flailing and forget about the neglected child no one likes.<br />
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Then I start to feel OK with my neglect because, you know, I'm just lazy and caring about neglect just seems like a lot of work.<br />
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You know?<br />
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Soooooooo much work.<br />
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So I'm going to promise to try harder and not neglect and listen to the stories about your stamp collect.....<br />
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Oh fuck, is that a bike?Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-60960471180754186082012-06-18T22:52:00.004-06:002012-06-18T22:53:39.662-06:00Just Period All Over The Place. Because I'm A Girl.It's almost official, I've survived my first three months of Film School. I may have made a Porn commercial and a commercial selling freelance suicide bombers, but I survived.<br />
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Apperantly I'm pretty awesome at Film School. Like, I'm so awesome at it I'm pretty sure I've made people jealous with said awesomeness. Or maybe I'm just stupidly full of myself and people have just been telling me that I'm awesome to ensure that I don't start hysterically crying all over the place and spontaneously bleeding because <i>I'm the only girl in this semester of school</i>.<br />
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I'm going to be the only girl in this course for the next eighteen months. So, that's something.<br />
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After these next few classes, I'll be preoccupied with moving to a new joint that is officially heroin user free but according to the landlord the tenant above us is "Like, super gay. Super, SUPER gay." and I'm like "That's awesome, I'm either going to have a fabulous gay best friend in the upstairs above or the most fabulous enemy neighbor ever."<br />
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And then once we're moved, I'm going to be start rolling out some web series with a few of my fellow film students because that's what we do. We make things. Mostly offensive things. But we make things.<br />
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So, maybe, watch out for that.<br />
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Oh, and I'll blog more.<br />
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Yeah, that too.Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-19251182538662722642012-06-13T07:00:00.000-06:002012-06-13T07:00:02.715-06:00I Paid This Much & All I Got Was This Stinky Movie Poster<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AhH9ltfANXc/T9fHTPa2pJI/AAAAAAAAA3w/tNv2biTZ4co/s1600/Beardless+Poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AhH9ltfANXc/T9fHTPa2pJI/AAAAAAAAA3w/tNv2biTZ4co/s640/Beardless+Poster.jpg" width="412" /></a></div>
<br />Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-31545657622741932702012-06-10T15:33:00.004-06:002012-06-10T15:33:55.347-06:00I Met Famous People And Almost Died. No Biggee.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JxJX9pTUfH8/T9UO41-1UOI/AAAAAAAAA2o/_wxDTlJzaD4/s1600/IMG_0700.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JxJX9pTUfH8/T9UO41-1UOI/AAAAAAAAA2o/_wxDTlJzaD4/s320/IMG_0700.JPG" title="They smelled of Shame and Career Suicide." width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They sat in these, I assume.</td></tr>
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So, the other day I happened to be working on the set of a Lifetime movie that is coming out and it just sort of happened to have a few famous people in it that some of you may or may not know. Like, that asshole gay dude from Glee? Yeah, he was on it. And that asshole drug chick from 90210? Yeah, she was totally on it too. <br />
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And it was a pretty wicked experience even though I found out one of the famous people *coughthedudecough* is a massive jerk who openly laughs in the face of special needs kids. Yup, he totally did that. The girl was extremely nice, though. I talked to her when she face planted right in front of me and I figured "Holy shit, she just face planted, this is totally my in to become her Best Friend Forever!" but I totally fucked it up and just awkwardly asked "Are you happy to be back in Canada, because it's pretty nice here." and she just gave me a "Yeah, it's great, so much fun." as she was desperately trying not to show that face planting actually hurt and this asshole crew worker didn't even ask her if she was OK. Because, I totally didn't ask that. Because I'm an asshole. <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bUEOiNrtARA/T9UO87Q5vUI/AAAAAAAAA2w/U-3JE9t4wY8/s1600/IMG_0704.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="I'm not sure if she is actually a bitch, but you know, HUMOUR!" border="0" height="239" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bUEOiNrtARA/T9UO87Q5vUI/AAAAAAAAA2w/U-3JE9t4wY8/s320/IMG_0704.JPG" title="I'm not sure if she is actually a bitch, but you know, HUMOUR!" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I got to stand behind the Director and this bitch. </td></tr>
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For the first part of the day I got to stand around near the Director and listen to the actors say the same lines over and over again for three hours. I'm pretty sure this Lifetime movie is going to be the shittiest Lifetime movie because 90% of the dialogue is about "Skanks".<br />
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I've got to say I was totally fucking bored by the 100th time they went through the same scene and was actively looking for something to stab myself but my Australian Boss kept glaring at me because, well, I guess it was my job to pretend They. Were. The. Best. Actors. EVER!<br />
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And in between takes Mr. Glee would circulate around and ignore all the extras that desperately were trying to get his attention and only pay attention to those he deemed "cool" and really, no one was that cool enough for him. He only got close to people when he was forced to take a photo with them. BECAUSE THAT'S HOW THE INDUSTRY WORKS! <br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cnNegqG6rFs/T9UPAj-A_bI/AAAAAAAAA24/cXMf5NJim7M/s1600/IMG_0706.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="He Just Wanted To Throw Rocks At Everyone" border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cnNegqG6rFs/T9UPAj-A_bI/AAAAAAAAA24/cXMf5NJim7M/s320/IMG_0706.JPG" title="He Just Wanted To Throw Rocks At Everyone" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">OMG, HE'S GLEE FAMOUS! </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IzgEFjfM_KU/T9UPJBLEAjI/AAAAAAAAA3I/ogQCayan23I/s1600/IMG_0708.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" height="239" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IzgEFjfM_KU/T9UPJBLEAjI/AAAAAAAAA3I/ogQCayan23I/s320/IMG_0708.JPG" title="All She Had To Do Was Drop Some Books." width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She fucked up this take soooo bad.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QTn7alwcojA/T9UPJrr1q_I/AAAAAAAAA3Q/y8wHKXbjyPk/s1600/IMG_0711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QTn7alwcojA/T9UPJrr1q_I/AAAAAAAAA3Q/y8wHKXbjyPk/s320/IMG_0711.JPG" title="This Is Really My "Fucking Stoked" Face." width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And then my face burned off.</td></tr>
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And then I had to sit outside next to some trucks for hours in the sun and then my face almost melted off but I was like "CAN I HAVE SOME MORE SKIN CANCER PLEASE!" because if I complained I would be White-Fanged from the set -- someone would throw rocks at me and yell "Git, GO!" until I ran away howling.<br />
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There was also a giant squirrel-cat that kept chasing me around the trucks because I may or may not have thrown rocks in it's home because I was bored and didn't know it lived there, but if I didn't know that it lived there, I would have thrown rocks too. Because they were FUCKING MONSTERS.<br />
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And then I got sent home and almost died of heat stroke.<br />
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<br />Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151419332648200752.post-56119499817083223292012-06-05T18:42:00.002-06:002012-06-05T18:42:39.276-06:00That One Time I Met That Dude From Glee But I'm Totally Not Talking About It Right Now.So, one time I met this dude who happened to be on Glee and I also met this chick who happened to be on 90210 but I'm totally not going to talk about that right now because I'm just letting you know that once I have a chance too (tomorrow) I will totally talk about it.<br />
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Because, you know, I want the suspense to kill you.Tristachiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18309788808214689569noreply@blogger.com0