i wish i saw this inside a theater. with sunny.

based on a teleplay by david j. schow (author of the seminal “black leather required” and the sublime “rock breaks scissors cut”) this is a kick in the ass of horror movies.

three cinephiles set out to find a rare horror film. as students of the cinema arts, they know the tropes of horror flicks and as such, make sure that they have a cellphone (even checking for reception), gun (with bullets) and flares (plural). but everything goes down a bloody hill anyway.

what’s really cool is how the cliches are turned upside down. like the sex scenes and the nudity are shown 1/8 into the film and not as a preclimax obligatory scene, although there is that too. also the  the girl puts on her jeans first instead of running into the woods in her panties.

qoutes:

“you know the only thing i hate more than bad timing is actors who think they can direct.”

and

“that’s the worst form of transition —  a cliche — you blacked out! a time cut. how boring.”

and my favorite:

“nobody cares about that subtextual bullshit. get to the kill!”

* * *

cold. and now rain. lots of rain until the weekend. time to do some gun-for-hire writing.

just saw this piece of genius, a week and a half late.

praying rob zombie doesn’t do a remake, or a reboot, whatever.

“the sound of building coffins” would be one of the best, if not the very best, reads of the year. the kind that requires to be read way past bedtime as you crawl underneath a comforter with a maglite. aside from early poppy z. brite and caitlin r. kiernan, the last time i did that was with “the house of leaves”. maybe “the terror”. if there is only one book to be read this year, this would be it. although i am looking forward to stephen king’s “under the dome”, partially to see if he has gone catholic on us, constant readers.

* * *

the temperatura is hitting the low 40s and will be dropping to around low 30s come the afternoon. this, after a sunny and warm weekend. i am officially hating the weather. there is no more escaping the 12 pounder coats and doc martens.

* * *

the thought that in a month’s time i’ll be swimming in san miguel and shoveling panga ng tuna is failing to comfort me. i want to get out of new york, maybe for good. one can never get enough of this place and one shouldn’t even try. also, why not quit before you hit the hard concrete, har-de-fucking har. i just feel that this city is built on superficiality of the evil kind, the lovecraftian kind. at least vegas and LA, IMfuckingHO are not hiding their superficiality and aloofness and ostentatious display of shallowness. you get manicured lawns and bright lights and fake smiles and you know it to be true, even the fake smiles. here, it is impossible to tell.

last night i told my wife that i am tired of this city.

“you will miss new york”, was her only reply as she went back to here take-home work.

we have this code that when spoken by either of us, we will just pack our shit and go, no questions asked.

i very nearly came to using that word.

if only her firm has an office in new orleans or rhode island.

but of course, there is always manila.

i give myself one more year. so help me gods.

yesterday was “freezing”. that’s the word used by them meteorologists on tv. we decided to take a walk in the park anyway to catch the last yellowing leaves before they all fall. the squirrels are now frantically doing their best to secure some nuts against a background of trees starting to show skeletal trunks. a few greens ones are soldiering one. most are yellow, although there’s the occasional fiery red. the walk took about three hours which is a good thing, maybe the daily 13-block walk from times square to penn station (23 blocks of daily footsoldiering) is actually doing some good. no shortness of breath, no palpitations. which could only bring more beer.

* * *

today the sun is having its final show. temperatura is at the 60s. most restaurants are full, spilling to the sidewalk of sun and food worshippers.

* * *

speaking of restaurants, the nytimes blog has one of the most commented entry ever:

http://boss.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/10/29/one-hundred-things-restaurant-staffers-should-never-do-part-one/

in t-minus 8 days, it would be the pacquaio-cotto match, one of the most anticipated event in boxing history. pacquiao has a lot to gain. and also a lot to lose which makes the match doubly exciting. and factor in the fact that this is the only thing that will put the philippine flag in the world’s headlines not related to corruption, beheadings, kidnappings, and natural disasters and there you go.

we don’t have nobel peace prize winners but we have a boxer.

who’s also a singer.

and actor.

and a politician.

if am his PR machine, i only have three words for the man.

be a recluse. the jd salinger kind.

slaughter the enemy in the ring then hide without talking to anyone. ever. until the next fight.

mystery breeds fear. but that’s just me.

* * *

there is a lot of crap in the internet. especially the scam about “the copywriting that sells”.  we all know the drill: promise, long copy, testimonial, discount, another discount, a time-sensitive offer. i always wonder if ever anyone falls into this bullshit.

i remember the day when the iPhone was launched.

it only has a single piece of copy. “hello”. it’s not even a one-word pun.

judging by the way it is selling, one word is enough to survive the economic crash.

* * *

winter is here.

it was cold this morning when we cabbed it to penn station. the kind of cold that fries your ears.

and it was windy like a batman cartoon – newpapers and new york filth are being blown by the wind as a gazillion coppers are getting ready for the yankees parade.

in a week, gloves, muffs, and all other shit would be necessary to go outside.

i just want to have a good book and a good film and tinola inside the house.

fuck veterans day and thanksgiving.

* * *

i’m doing my damnedest to find this film:

i have seen the future of air travel and it is not funny. we will be flying our own shit.

so we finally booked the flights from NY to MLA to BKL and back to NY. it turned out that when buying our tickets, we also have to choose out seats, check out luggages, and of course pay for everything. even the fucking fuel. my prediction is that in the near future, we will also pay the salary of the pilots and the stewards/ess with every ticket we buy. or we fly the plane ourselves.

checking in from NY is a techo nightmare as there are zero human interaction, unless of course, you yell “bomb”, in which case the form of interaction will be a dick up your ass.

checking in from MLA is a human nightmare. there are lots of people who are as useless as a machine. the last time we flew, we checked in online and when we gave the receipt to the person at the counter, we got delayed for more than 20 minutes because, “kasi nag online check-in po kayo”. ayus.

so basically we buy the fuel, we pay to bring luggages, we do everything our very selves. with northwest airline pilots sleeping on the job, we are going to fly the planes someday…believe you me.

* * *

the dirty finger is returning to normal size. pain is almost gone and i can use it to type.

* * *

“sandman slim” is rocking like hell.

turned out i was number 1 on the hold for anne rice’s latest tome. so i got the book (very thin compared to her previous works) and then read it.

after 12 pages, i don’t know whether i should save my sanity and return the book.

example (from page 44):

the breath went out of me. the breath just left me. i looked directly into his eyes and i saw the love again, the pure unadulterated love, and acceptance, and then very gently, cautiously, he laid his hand on my left arm.

now, if only i have read “twilight” to compare.

UPDATE: i am definitely returning the book tomorrow a-s-fucking-p. the next three pages made me throw up my dinner. at least there’s “sandman slim” ready for pick up.

* * *

the dirty finger is now itchy as hell. most of the nail is black and i can feel it being pushed upwards by it version 2.o. it doesn’t send electric chills whenever i accidentally bump it against something. and the lack of pus is something to be thankful for.

* * *

tv scheds are being fucked by the world series. i am rooting for phillies because the yankees are living up to their name and are so full of themselves. at least V starts tomorrow. i have stopped following heroes, flashforward, and CSI. i’m down to top chef, house, fringe, and californication.

the day after all hallow’s eve.

the day daylight savings time starts.

the day of the annual NY marathon.

14 days before the metallica concert.

this morning, i got an email alert from ticketmaster. as if i would ever forget. all i wish is that they’d play “harvester of sorrow”, “fuel”, and “seek and destroy”.

* * *

halloween.

after kare-kare and pork bbq from bayan cafe, we watched “the boondock saints: all saints’ day” at times square. i loved the movie. there’s nothing like violent men with blazing guns to pump the day with adrenaline. especially a sequel of the movie that the pundits (“as a child, nobody ever wanted to be a critic someday”) loathed. i hope it gets an international release.

then we killed time in soho (+J new stock at uniqlo this tuesday, i might get a new winter coat after all) and then we watched as throngs of revelers start to trickle one by one. the usual gory stuff, the usual cops and criminals, the gothic slut, the superheroes. it started to rain and a group of people as jellyfishes ruled: they have transparent umbrellas with tendrils and tentacles and they still paraded with dignity.

what we did is take a joyride, just going to and fro on the six train looking at people as they come and go. and this year’s best costume IMHO is a japanese school girl in a school girl outfit with blood pouring out of her eyes as she carries a pair of nunchuks. beat that superman.

so i’m doing some gunning for hire at maia’s shop. mostly print and posters and advertorials that require 3 or less studies, something that can be done while watching “glee”.

they’re happy.

i’m happy.

and with the moolah that is fair for the exchange, i can buy some stuff with what remains after i give it to my wife (every bit helps when one is trying to find a ticket to manila this december).

what i buy is mostly beer and books.

and then i decided to do some vanity shopping.

the first one is a cheap-ass military watch.

smith&wesson. how military can you get?

matte black dial and bezel. the only color that makes sense for me.

black canvas straps. interchangeable with 2 other colors: fatigue and khaki.

this unnerved me at first. and then i googled military watch straps and found out that this strap is known as the NATO strap. very world war 2. this really makes sense the way the strap is one continuous thingy and just inserted at the watch’ lug. somewhere, this is discussed at length in a manual of arms.

my third pair of docs. the first made it from my goth phase in college through basic advertising. then i got a replacement from basic to mcann, tbwa, new york. and then after retiring my glasses, i also retired the DMs. now, i have another replacement and am very ready for the winter. and also this halloween.

black greasy, the matte black of leather.

still the same shit even after the brits relinquished the reins to the chinese. i heard that some DMs are from thailand. but then again, isn’t china the new west?

let’s see how long this one will last. year 2020?

* * *

time to bake the words. but first there’s the dishes to be conquered. at least it’s friday, delivery day.

* * *

tomorrow is halloween. we hope to catch “the boondoock saints 2: all saints’ day” before heading to the village parade for more gheyness.

so here’s a thought from the crow soundtrack: it can’t rain all the time/the sky won’t fall forever.

happy halloween.

i took a walk to the park to not to feel romantic by my lonesome self but to clear my head about things that need to be written. i brought a book and the iPhone of course, set on flight mode. and it’s not trio los panchos on the headphones but helmet (played very low) and sun o))) (played very loud).

the first thing i have noticed is that there is no point of denying it. fall has arrived and will leave very soon. trees are dying and shedding their leaves in the fall palette of autumn. the grass is still green as are some resilient trees but mostly, the park is covered with brittle leaves.

there were a couple of newly weds for their post-nuptial shoots (both asian couples), one amateur film shoot (no director’s chair), one professional film shoot (a director chair plus the RVs and shit), two family portraits photo shoots (girl photog), and three fashion shoots (gay photogs).

there were no more games at the great lawn nor where there P.E. classes. the jogging path has been cordoned off for the upcoming annual NYC marathon.

only a few squirrels were gathering their stash. there were still lots of dogs though. as well as tourists.

i somehow managed to find a spot under the sun and was able to read a couple of short stories which, while extremely good, did nothing for my current plotting problem.

so i walked some more and took some pics.

tonight, the agony of the blank piece of paper and red pen. time for wrestling. i promised myself not to do this before the 15th but fuck it, the itch needs to be scratched.