this goes out to the captain...

http://www.buzzfeed.com/kevintang/14-most-dishonorable-things-you-did-on-nintendo-64

check out #14

What up scumbags

Senators! Senators, please, settle down! Sena... SENATORS!

Thank you.

Apologizes for my brief absence. I'm in rehearsal for my one-man show right now, and I've got rehearsals every night from 7-11pm. The only time I really have off are monday and wednesday afternoons, and I just end up napping in the library.

Josh told me everyone google hangouted?! Fuck! I think Josh said it Monday night, and I was in rehearsal.

Scott! I got your voicemail! Yes, I can mail you your security re-imbursement money. Just post or text me your mailing address and I'll send you a check.

Just to keep everyone updated, I've been spending my last couple weeks really racking my brain trying to figure out my post graduation plan. My plan, as of now, is to stay in boston all summer and the entire fall (working, bartending, auditioning, music, improvising, frisbeeing, drinking), and then move to NYC around the new year, January 2014, and be there for the prime audition season (february - april). A ton of shit needs to get worked out in order to make that happen, but its a sketch. Also, I'd like to try and figure out a way to get out to LA for a week and see everyone. Maybe around september? october?

I'm going to go now to an audition for a professional touring ensemble that will perform "Midsummer Night's Dream" and "Great Expectations" in middle schools and high schools all around New England for 2 and half months. Do you guys think I'm cool?

Life

I'm finding it hard to care about anything around me.

I've got a beer in my hand and my brain to make and watch films, expand my mind in the direction I believe it needs to go.

What else do I need?

I'm gonna finish school...but I don't want to.

Missing Senator

Has anyone seen this senator?

Going for the highscore

Fourth sore throat in 3.5 months. I'm gonna beat you Jesse. I hope my tonsils get to the size of eyeballs or something.

The Oscars

I refuse to watch the Oscars.

In fact, I am in my room currently, doing homework, playing video games, cuddling with Abby, and giving less than a fuck.

You see, I love movies. Some might say that is a prerequisite to going into our industry. But award shows? Fuck that.

My personal philosophy is: I like what I like because I like it.

It's quite simple: I don't need an academy of people to tell me what is great and what is not. Some movies are better than others, but how can we limit anything to 9 best movies? I have over 20 favorite movies from this year, and my top two didn't make the best picture cut.

Cloud Atlas, my favorite movie of the year, the most underrated movie of the year, hit all the spots just right. It's a movie about the human experience, a very Buddhist way of looking at the world and it just hits so great.

The Master, a movie about a WWII vet trying to find his way in a society that rejects him and the people he comes into contact with. Snubbed. Completely.

You see, fuck the Oscars. Fuck Awards. Unless, of course, you are up for one, no one should care about the Oscars. It is just Hollywood jerking off to themselves and I can't stand for it.

Tomorrow morning, my opinions will not change. Yes, I need to see many of the nominees for best picture, but I will still like what I like because I like it.

Pride

Hospital Visits

Something that makes me feel smart on sets is the ability to innovate and work around my surroundings. Because we had a grip kit, I knew we had scissor clips. Because we had scissor clips, we could rig to the ceiling tiles.

Evan was rigging and all of a sudden the piece of ceiling tile he was playing with crumbled in his hands, snowing from the atmosphere above.

I was holding him because we had to rig from on top of tables. Terrible idea.

I was looking up as this occurred and I felt the particle enter my eye socket.

I immediately ran to the bathroom to wash out my eyes. I couldn't stop blinking. After a half hour, I ran to CVS to buy Visine (terrible idea).

I texted my Mom and she said to flush it out with saline solution, so I flushed it out with Visine (terrible solution).

I kept getting angrier and angrier, my eye getting puffier and puffier. I started punching walls, trying to make myself cry, grinding my teeth.

Eventually I came up with the idea to go to the darkroom and wash my eyes out in the eyewash station (best idea), but to no avail, did not stop my eye from being uncomfortable.

I went back to set and kept using Visine. Eventually, it stung so bad I threw a paper towel at the mirror, punched the wall, and screamed.

I grabbed my coat and told the director I was going to MGH to get my eye checked out.

I walked to MGH and walked into the emergency room rubbing my eye. The woman at the desk asked me (in a demeaning tone), if my eye was hurting (no shit) and if I wanted to see an eye doctor. So I replied, "Yes, obviously." and she pointed me in the way of the eye clinic.

I get situated and I instantly Snapchat everyone I know. I then download Pokemon Blue to my phone in order to entertain myself, but my eye is so annoying I can barely pay attention. They call my name and an initial doctor takes my blood pressure, asks what happened, and checks my vision.

I then sit for another hour and a half while Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian blares on in the background. Eventually they call my name and I am omitted.

The doctor looks at the initial report and then asks: "Did they put numbing solution in your eye?"

I realize, no. They did not. They made me suffer for an hour and a half, unable to keep my eyes open. (FUCK YOU, HOSPITAL).

She puts the solution in, checks my eyes, and says I have 25 shallow corneal scratches, but they should heal.

She also asks me if I smoke, to which I replied, "Not cigarettes." She then looked at me and said, "Do not smoke this weekend or else your eye won't be able to heal fast enough. I should be saying do not smoke at all, but whatever."

In the end, I scratched my eye and it sucked but now I'm all better, but fuck MGH those fucking cocksuckers made me sit in misery for like an hour and half.

Jesse finds perfect analogy for Argentina's smack talk

The Thing's I've Been Pondering

I have a some clarity today and I didn't want it to go to waste. Here's where my heads been at.

I feel comfortable for the first time in my life and that scares me; cause to me adversity is the fuel that makes you a great person. So MLK and Gandhi would never have been great people if they weren't struggling against extreme, crushing adversity. Take a less grandiose example like any young film maker who's personal struggle elevates their work. If it all came easy it would have no worth, from great pressure comes a diamond, shit like that. That has been my thinking since I was young. And for the past year that has been my life. I've put an immense amount pressure on myself to push forward, thinking deep down that it would push me to achieve something. In the past year I have achieved more than I often give myself credit for and that raises a question: Would I have been able to survive a year on my own without all that pressure? That's the question that scares me. Because at the moment I don't feel that pressure. I don't feel stressed about getting ahead or getting my next gig. I wouldn't say I don't care about it but I feel like taking my foot off the gas pedal. I don't want to stress about it anymore.

These two weeks I've spent playing arts and crafts in my room were great. It was so creatively satisfying. My doodles turned into plans that turned into a bunch of raw materials that turned into weird psychedelic lights that hang in my room. And even if it didn't turn out exactly the way I wanted I was satisfied because I thought of something in my head and created it with my hands. I told Scott a few minutes ago, "All I really want to do right now is walk into the woods, find a nice spot and make it into a little home.  Weave the vines into a hammock and carve chairs from fallen trees. Like the interior deign version of graffiti art". Now I know that sounds weird but it also sounds really fun. Creating these hidden public spaces that are now as much a part of a home as they are of the wilderness. Does that mean I should just stop what I'm doing and start the graffiti-interior design movement? Is that even an option? I've wanted to shoot movies for so long but has the fire gone out or am I just older?

--

It's nice to have this moment of clarity because I think these questions have been floating around me for a while. For the moment I'm gonna keep pushing forward with my goals and just keep an eye on how I feel about them. As of now I've got a shit ton of free time to explore these other outlets so there's no reason for a drastic change. I just wanted to put this out there and share what I've been thinking about.

What we recorded last night

its a little bit ugly at the end but for the most part its ite.

Phone poem 01 - valentimes

Two safe spoons and far away
Beneath the knives of other days
A caravan was set to blaze
And drift upon the evening haze.

Cliffs were conquered
and reds were gassed
lives were pondered
And dates were passed.

Up to crosses out of reach
Arcade lights with racing beach
Jack in box denied us each
And one of us was called a leech.

The end has come and all is soft
And spiders that once hung aloft
Have fallen with the evening tide
As we await tomorrow's ride.

Tonsillitis #3

It's official:

I'm a hypochondriac.

Tonsillitis #2

I feel like a bag of dicks
My nose drips
Drips
drips

Down my throat
boogies, goats
Huck a loogie
wish it was lugia

Psychic/flying
should be water
fucking lugia
fucking rocks

back to business
going to the doctor
see down my throat
or not

Drip
drip
DRIP
FUCK

Beard Board

http://jefffsbeardboard.yuku.com/

i think they might like the beard video

Tonsillitis 2013 #1

A Haiku:

Tonsils swollen, sigh.

Just take them out of my head

I can't swallow, fuck.

Sim City 2000 Soundtrack + Ralph Waldo Emerson = True Beauty

And the Shitty Poetry Reading Club was born.

An Attempt: Part Three

Unit 89303
Santa Fe, NM
Having arrived in Santa Fe, I go to the Leasing Office. After some preliminary paperwork, I am brought to would would become my apartment. The kind woman shows me the place and I, not knowing what the right protocol is, go to each faucet and turn it on to check the water.

That is the extent of my examination. I sign the lease.

After bringing in my belongings, I quickly realize that I have not nearly enough things to make this place homely and resort to picking a corner in the studio and making it mine.

p.s.
If you would like to visit, there is plenty of space, because I am currently occupying 25-30% of the area inside this place.

Now that I have made myself a little area, I proceed with the night sans internet. I have never felt more aLoNeEeEeee...
----------------------------------
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
At 9am the comcast guys knock on my door. I let them inside, pretending that the lack of shit in my apartment is normal. They set up the internet and I am off.

I make a list of my main tasks:
Sign apartment lease (I like to include things I've already done, just so I go into it with a positive 'tude)
Get Driver's License
Take Union Safety Course
-----------------------------------
Saturday, January 26, 2013

I take the Safety Course at this guy's house. It was mostly about fire extinguishers.
----------------------------------
Monday, January 28, 2013
I took the None For The Road Drunk Driving Awareness Course online in order to get my Driver's License a week ago. Being under 24, it is required. My certificate has not come. I call the office and a woman there tells me that she mailed it a week ago and that I should have gotten it. I tell her I haven't and she offers to send it again. I tell her that I will just come to her office, which is in Albuquerque.

Once there, I get my certificate and proceed to the closest DMV. I make it just before they close. With a copy of my lease agreement in hand, a utility bill, a valid driver's license, and my Social Security card, I make an attempt at becoming a legal New Mexico Resident.

I get past the point of having my picture taken when the man doing my paperwork notices that the copy of my lease agreement is not a signed copy of my lease agreement. He tells me to go get it signed and come back tomorrow.

I am pissed. I tell the man, in the rudest voice I can muster, that their online directions state that I need a copy of my lease agreement, not a signed copy of my lease agreement. He could not give less fucks. He says that it isn't his problem. I say that my name is on the damn form and so is the address which matches the bill in his hand. He says I should have followed the rules. I said the rules should be posted online. He says "well, pffh." I say, "yeah, pffh."

In my car, I say all the awful and profane things I had wanted to say to his face. Doesn't really help, but I've seen it play out that way in movies, so it must be normal.
-----------
Tonight
-I am laying on my floorpad/bed having watched two movies and 4 episodes of television today, so far.
-I have gotten my New Mexico Driver's License and essentially checked everything off my to-do list.
-I am just waiting for the work to start.
-Meanwhile, I am lying here wondering if I could have squeezed in a few more days with you guys before leaving.

An Attempt: Part Two

Sunday, January 20, 2013
I have just left LA and am driving to Santa Fe. The drive is just over twelve hours-- a feat which I think easy to manage...

After a ten minute talk on the phone with my mother during which I tell her of my plan to sleep in my car once I am tired, she reservs a motel room eight hours out of LA in Holbrook, Arizona.
-------------------------
Later that day...
I am constantly searching the radio for any sign of football. Being a close friend to diehard Patriots fans, I can't help but feel a sense of New England obsession-- through osmosis, of course.

As I cross into Arizona, I realize that the radio is overflowing with evangelical programming and a sudden switch from anti-gun to pro-gun political banter.

And here I am just wanting to listen to the fucking Pats game.
-------------------
Kingman, AZ
That evening...
I pull over in a small, terrifying town to watch the Patriots play. Hell, if my mom is making me stop halfway to sleep, I might as well give up on drivin' like there's a rush.

A slow iPhone search and I find the only sports bar in town, The Timeout Tavern.

After parking, I pull the Obama magnet off my car-- for safety.

As I walk from my car to the door of the bar, a very intoxicated teenage girl walks behind me. No. She stomps at my heels. That's what she is doing. The door prior to the entrance of the bar is to a local head shop. The girl stops there and gives the door a hard yank. It is closed. In a fit of rage, she started asking, in a very exasperated tone, "Are ya fuckin' KIDDING me?!"

This clearly isn't a joke, however, and I speed-walk into the bar.

A few moments later and I go out to check my car. It was fine. Just being safe.

I take a seat inside the bar and am relieved to see that the Patriots are just kicking off. Within 30 seconds I am pissed off because the bar is apparently full of Ravens fans. The bar in Arizona.

The single bartender on duty is a drunken old woman who the other staff and patrons refer to as, "Babe." Her tagline for the evening? "I'm going for the world record for longest line of dirty dishes." The bartop, needless to say, is lined with dirty glasses and plates.

This being a classy joint, I order a Budweiser and Nachos (the kind you get at a t-ball game or shitty movie theater).

By halftime, my ears are so full of Raven loving Arizonan (sp?) banter that I decide to give up on watching the game and hit the road.
----------------
That night...
The sun is setting at my back as I head east on I-40. Looking in the rear-view mirror, I see one of the most gorgeous sights of my life and decide to pull over to take a photograph.

Getting out of my car on the side of the highway, I see a small hill made of rocks from which I might get a better view. The rocks are covered in a thin layer of snow and there is a barbed-wire fence keeping me off of them. With ease, I jump the fence and begin my ascension.

From the top of the top of the rocks, the view is gorgeous:

As you can tell from the photograph, however, it is starting to get dark and I am standing on a large hill of icy rocks on the side of the highway with no way down but over a barbed-wire fence. It was easier when I could see. Eventually, after a few falls and one moment during which I thought I was going to die, I reach to bottom of the rocks-- covered in mud and snow.

I hop back in my car and drive the last bit of the road to Holbrook, where my mom has procured me a lovely motel room. I call her to apologize for my previous hostility.

----------------------

Holbrook, AZ

Later that night...

As I enter Holbrook, one mile out from the motel, I notice blue lights in my mirror. Assuming that it is a cop pulling someone else over, I continue shouting Bob Dylan lyrics. Eventually, a siren overtakes the music and I realizes that I am the one being pulled over. 

In a typical panic-slam-on-my-brakes manner, I safely pull over to the side of the road. 

After a minute of waiting, a police office comes to my passenger side window. He kindly informs me that one of my headlights has gone out and that he thought I would like to know. After kindly wishing me well and confirming that he wasn't pulling me over for anything other than a very neighborly act of making sure I was safe, I was back on the road-- counting my blessings for meeting the only sane person in Arizona.

I reach my hotel and barricade myself inside with all of the belongings in my car, which I have painstakingly brought inside the motel room, just for safe keeping. Just being safe.