I 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.

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.

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!

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.

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 gurlfriend."And then he walked away with a huff.

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.

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 buy it from 7-11.". Made me feel like some sort of a hero. An ant killing hero.

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.

I'm Getting Too Old For This Shit

Desperate 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.

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.

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. 

So we went the OTHER direction.

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.

We sat around for an hour.

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.

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.

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.

So we turned around.

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.

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.

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.

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.

And then we went and got slurpee's in full zombie make-up and made jokes about startling raccoons.

A Dose Of Reality

One 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.

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.

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.

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.

Basically, we showed our teacher we can't roleplay. Ever.

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."

Sharks Wearing Suits.

All it took was for some crazy bitch 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.

Neglectful 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.

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? They are most likely all dead. DEAD! Dead before I had a chance to remember their names and promise them birthday gifts that I have no plan on ever sending."

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. Are you happy now? 

Now that we've got that out of the way, we can all be friends again. Right? Right?

GRAND!

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.

I was sitting right next to him when he did that. 

So in other news, the dogs still an asshole.