Christmas, Phil's Awesome Present and Details about the Short Film

Christmas Cheer

Mans’ need to make people happy isn’t inherently instinctual, neither is it a requirement, but in my eyes, it should be. As we all slowly get older, most of us start to turn slightly senile and resentful as past experiences scar us. I have that sort of thinking during Christmas time. Why? That’s another story and it applies with birthdays as well. But this time, it’s different. I haven’t discovered “faith” I’m afraid but I have started to really get hold of the message. What message? You say, and those of you who did are terrible people or just haven’t grasped the true nature of said holiday cheer. It is about giving, not receiving. Or to “give and not to count the cost” as those Catholics would say. I am genuinely excited about Christmas, not because I can’t wait for my gifts (although they are still very much appreciated!), but more giving the presents I have bought to the people I love. I seriously am excited about giving my brother a certain present that I saw on Amazon, I was all like “you better get that, you cracka”. The joy, whether it lasts a minute or a few days doesn’t matter, it’s knowing I made that happen (I don’t mean to brag but, I am a seriously awesome gift giver! I dress up, do a little dance and then give them the coal, or if you want to get satirical, a euro). So expect some Christmas cheer (without the religious aspect for me but that isn’t because I despise religion. I admire anything that makes a person good and obviously hate the opposite).

Phillip Dawson Appreciation Society Volume 1

Creative gift giving is sometimes hit and miss. Sometimes with presents you strive for the unique, something to be memorable and possibly folk-tale worthy. Well, breaking the running theme of telling a little story from my past that can’t really be seen in a positive light, this is a bright little praise for my friend Phil.

If you get to know me, you’d learn that I say a lot of random things. But on this day, Phil took note. I jokingly told Phil that I wanted a poster of him with his thumbs up in my room to act like a dream catcher for Christmas, Phil laughed, paused for a second and continued the conversation. And you won’t f******* believe what he’s gone and got me!?

 I couldn't put it on the top wall of my bed as it kept falling off and smashing me in the face while I attempted sleep. So I've opted to putting it facing the door to wish those who enter luck and to warn off ze Germans.

It’s going to take a lot of explaining if I get visitors, but it’ll be worth it. So I just wanted to dedicate that little section to Phil just to say thank you very much, you’re an absolute legend and your humour deserves a podium (or a stage, hmm Phil! Think about it!)

The Little Short Film (Not About Dwarves)

I’m going to be writing more about the little short film I keep tweeting about in a blog post on Friday. I’ll give you a little bit now before properly writing about it. It’s a script I’ve made and will be co-directing with some friends and acting in it as well. It'll be be shot in about a day, might be a long day just to get everything sorted but it’ll be fun and a good experience. No pay just to throw that out there (if you couldn’t have guessed). But, it would be a really good time as the script is slightly challenging for the girl being casted, they’d be pretty much the main thing for about 95% of the film and it’s all naturalistic. So if you’re a lady and you think that sounds like something you want to give a go then have a look at the casting requirements. Just to warn you, I don't have much power on the casting of it, just incase you thought I did! Deadline for cv sending is this weekend so please don't leave it to the last minute.

Girl

Playing age: 16-21
Height: 5ft 4- 5 ft 8 (if you’re shorter then 5 ft 4, email anyway if your playing age is defining enough)
Easy on the eye but not model like
Acting experience via camera isn't a necessity
Acting experience overall isn't required but preferred
Email allseeinghorse@gmail.com with CV, headshot and any queries

S2 Ep1- Name Change and a Frankie Cocozza Joke (god i'm so relevent)

Introduction

I know I know, what’s happened to the title? Well I felt that I had to change with the times and as my old title didn’t really have any serious undertones at all, I thought this new one would! “Ripping Water”, sounds like a song in the next Razorlight album doesn’t it? I felt it was quite poetic and theoretically impossible to do, which always adds to the beauty of the imagery (and it’s just quite fun to say!) I didn’t want to just name it “Sean Joseph Young’s current blog” as it sounds a bit plain. “Ripping Water” sounds quite mysterious and hasn’t got a strange joke connected to it. I’ve even tried to make a joke out of it, something under the lines of “I’m so ill, I’m ripping water”. But it isn’t funny enough to be conceived as a joke (so you’re welcome to steal it, you know who you are). I tried other titles that I hoped would have a serious undertone, but after a while I realised most of them didn’t have a serious undertone, just more of a homicide next door kind, the kind of undertone a tent at a horse event would cover up (too dark? I think you may have to get used to it I’m afraid!).

Honest Opinion

 I’ve always felt my blogs lacked something (a loving carer I guess, the current one spits in my soup), it was about ¾ fun and games and ¼ serious. I tried to balance it out when actually; I shouldn’t try to balance it at all. I should do whatever the shit I want! Obviously I’m still going to do the whole “no names” thing (unless you’ve been really bad, watch out for next blog as I give Hitler a right cheeky ribbing). If I want to throw out some honest revelations in my life to you all then I should, if I think Kirsten Stewart looks like a 13 year old boy with her hair tied back on that horse in the new Snow White trailer (which looks freaking awesome by the way, and I still would get to know Kirsten Stewarts parents. When her hairs’ down she’s freaking cute, I can overlook the 13 year old boy thing, or embrace it? Living the dream), then I’m going to say it with no paedophile jokes whatsoever (cough). Let’s just all have fun, don’t turn your nose up, just embrace it at all. Offence is choice not genetic, humour is a social thing, so come on, let’s have a metaphorical beer and smile.

Summary

Think of this name transition as Season 2 of my blogs. I got a lot to tell you guys and, as it’s going to be more irregular then Frankie Cocozza’s heartbeat, I won’t tell you an exact date. Just think of it as the good ol’ times when Christmas was just when you felt a bit generous some days, and not a set day when Jesus decided to be born’d so his big fish corporate friends could earn money from you all being forced to fake a smile and act sincere about a present you receive, not because you hate the present, but because that present was the present you gave them last year, who in turn gave the same fake smile the year previous because it was shit. Or something.

Follow me on Twitter, one of my goals was to get more followers then how many I’m currently following (I can’t help pressing the follow button on certain people, and in Twitter). As payment, every 20 people I get following me is a + on the number of hit songs titles I’m going to add onto a big old list, which I’m then going to have to try and quote during a clueless date (I’m fucked), while being video’d of course (as much as I like personal enjoyment enjoyed by the few). @seanjosephyoung

Derren Brown and a Ramble (contains a preview of my amazing artwork)

Introduction

Right, I’m about as erratic and as unreliable as possible with the dates of these blogs. I sometimes know what I’m going to write, other times I have no clue. This, I think, is going to be a bit of a ramble blog, and then I’ll tell you a little unimportant story from the Derren Brown promo. Oh and watch out for my amazing art work.

YouTube and IPhone Investigator

What tends to happen with these blogs, is that I will come on to the laptop with my mind set about what I’m going to write and then, when I get down to it, I splurge all my warmed up creative juices on things I can watch on YouTube. These videos on YouTube aren’t educational, nor do I garner any self respect from it. It’s all mostly stupid and silly videos that I hope exist. These subject headings are usually inane, nonsensical bullsquit like “badger riding Kangaroo” (that video does actually exist, but not on YouTube, it ruined my Tuesday) and “swallowing egg whole”.

On the IPhone you can search on Google, when you type something in, it saves what’s been entered so you can go back to it. I recently looked at the list I’ve created since owning this phone, and became slightly worried with how someone may see it without knowing the back story! Here’s the top four things on my Google history, on the IPhone.

Blue balls

Christopher Walken

Graphite

Migrant Workers

Yes, without knowing where it all come from, it’ll probably seem about as disturbing as a gimps basement (to be honest, it does sound like a checklist usually found in a gimps basement!). The Christopher Walken bit was to show my step dad who he was (who Christopher Walken was, my step dad wasn’t having a case of forgotten identity), as I had previously showed him The Walken Dead (you can see below) and it meant nothing to him as he had no clue who he was, which was kind of the main thing about that video. The other three was to confirm what they meant, as I never usually like to say something without knowing 100% that I’m using said word/phrase correctly! Like when I used the phrase “lets raise the flag and see who salutes” when I was 14, as a euphemism. Why? Because I was a bad ass 14 year old of course. (I didn’t actually say that, I didn’t use euphemisms then, I was too busy deciphering Einstein’s theory of relativity, that and playing Final Fantasy 7….. Mainly the latter).

Derren Brown

Well, yeah I did an advert for Derren Brown’s new show, was really awesome! Everyone was lovely which is always super nice. I’ve done things for television where I’ve hated every moment, but this time it was fun! Except the synchronised bit! Hated that so bad. They hired 20 dancers to do it with us, but they decided to have Mr 2 Left Face here to be near the front! I just couldn’t stop getting it wrong! It was simple and yet I’d either not bend my neck far enough or not move fast enough out of camera shot. Even though the lady beside me was a lovely older lady who walked slower then the younger people surrounding her. There was even one take where I forgot to take the phone out of my pocket so we had to stop and do it again, I’ve never had evils by 50 people instantaneously before, I felt kind of powerful! Yes I got a distinction in dance at college, but that was because the teacher rewarded me for taking myself completely out of my comfort zone with the strip at the showcase (little did she know). It also didn’t help when we were doing it under about 20 huge light bulbs, so everyone was feeling the heat. My face wasn’t sweating like the others, but, to put it bluntly, my area was! I had 2 pairs of jeans on because they didn’t have the right size for me, so I had to have my original jeans on underneath. It felt like I had been tea bagging lava.

I had a chance to quickly meet Derren Brown, I walked past him as he was speaking to 2 other guys. I’ve gone ahead and scripted this, with the possible inner thoughts of the great Derren Brown himself. I think this situation is an example of how I presume I’m being seemingly rude when I don’t mean to be at all (when around new people). Call it being self conscious of others accidental forced (by me) perception. I think I do this because of all the accusations of me being arrogant back in the day because I was nodding to criticism in a way they didn’t like, so since then, I’ve been really aware of what I say and how I say it. I never want people to think ill of me if I’m genuinely being nice or taking criticism on board, anyway. I’m sure his response was deliberate and not a panic button response, don’t see why it would be as I’m sure he’s dealt with stranger people while doing magic tricks on the street! (Initially had to write corridor in the scene heading, as that’s where it took place in, except I found that word such a mind frick, look at it, seriously look at it! How weird is that word!)

INT. CORRIDOR AT GREENFORD STUDIOS

SEAN enters wearing two pairs of jeans and a hoodie, this man radiates awesomeness (I’m the writer, I get to say what I want). As he plods along in the corridor, his eyes meet with magician and nice man, DERREN BROWN. DERREN is talking to two people while wearing a really nice suit. SEAN attempts a drive-by conversation.

SEAN

Alright!

DERREN

Hello mate, you OK?

Sean notices the suit, his obligations to always compliment nice fabric overrides his vocal chords.

SEAN V.O (INNER THOUGHT)

What a lovely bit of suitage

SEAN

Yeah I’m good thank you, nice suit by the way!

DERREN, taken off-guard by this sudden, badly composed compliment, responds.

DERREN V.O (INNER THOUGHT)

What?

DERREN

Thank you, yes, love your suit as well.

SEAN smiles and waves a hand as if to say “you’re too kind!” Without looking back to see DERREN’S face, leaving the ending of the drive-by to SEAN’S mind.

SEAN V.O (INNER THOUGHT)

Shit, I think he may have thought I was being sarcastic! Keep walking, avoid eye contact, warn Batman.

SEAN then, understandably, sings Holy Diver by Killswitch Engage out loud to drown out all the voices in his head, telling him to draw the guy who says “wonga” in the Envirophone adverts over the walls as a coping mechanism.

He genuinely seemed like a really nice, charismatic man. Which I always find is my first question when my friends meet famous people. I don’t like asking, is he a dick? Or did he kick off on set? Or anything like that, it’s always, “was he nice?” And then, out of my own insecurity, I ask “how tall was he/she?” So, to answer my own questions, he seemed really nice, and he was about 5 ft 8/5 ft 10? He seemed like the type of guy you’d want as a really cool uncle or wingman!

Oh and just to add, the main cast that were doing the puppet stuff with me were really nice as well and a pleasure to hang out/work with. There was one or two that I didn’t get to speak to as much even though I wanted to, but I’ve got them on Twitter now so all good (sneaky walking, social stalking, eating cabbage, swearing at Savage, it’s Twitter!!) Although, it turned out I was the only one there who hadn’t been to drama school, so I had no stories I could of bantered them with, I think I’m just going to have to deal with that for now!

Shoulder Injury

I’m going to do a short blog about this during the week. As much as I am OK which then renders it unnecessary in a way. The effort I’ve put into it makes it necessary! “What Effort??” You say! Well I tried to do a really really silly comic strip drawing which in my mind would take 10 minutes; it’s taken me 2 hours so far. This is one of the boxes. I’m as sorry as you are.

Summary

One of the more nuts blogs. Oh and I’m pretty sure I did say I have the drawing capability of an 8 year old, didn’t I?

The Final Day of the Project- Subject: Me

Introduction

The last day of the project! I don’t really feel sad about it, as it doesn’t have to stop entirely. I have enjoyed doing it, as my English be getting better (deliberate). Along with that, it’s given me a chance to really have a good bicker and have a wider view on life. I feel as if I was always haunted by my own past, the wrong doings, the missed chances and all that shameful stuff. I admit, I am one of those people who say “I don’t regret anything”, but admittedly, there is plenty I regret. Whether it be with ex girlfriends, or fears that should have been shrugged off, they always seemed to haunt me and hurt my prospects and views on life. Fears and worries turned to hate which turned to my new catchphrase for a while which was “I don’t care”. On hindsight, of course I did, otherwise I wouldn’t have found an issue in it anyway. Stuff like my ex not texting me for a whole day for the first time in 3 years or coming back from a casting knowing it went bad and then telling myself, “I didn’t really want it anyway”. Anything to really shut up the voices in my head telling me that it actually has hurt me. I seem to only really be hurt by the blatantly obvious, which smashes me so hard in the face I don’t have time to say I don’t care about it (only for me to crawl into that hole later to avoid further questioning on the matter).

My Views on Sympathy

I hate sympathy, because of my constant crying and steady rising fears of everything as a child, I got a lot of it, but I also over heard resentment for it. I missed so much school that my friends got fed up of it because they didn’t understand what Crohn’s Disease was. In year 11 I changed quite a lot on my aspect on life. If I were to put it in a plainer example, it felt like I had aged in my mind about 5 years from thinking like a 12 year old to a 17 year old. By the time I had got out of A levels after three weeks, I was so sour of people, my brain had aged about 40 years. Which is probably one of the reasons (other then the obvious) to why I was so grateful to be surrounded by such fantastic and lovely people when I went to BTEC (of course there was a few characters, a boy called Anthony was one of them, he threatened to “spark” a girl, I then ((heroically of course, didn’t have time to get my cape, but the top hat and monocle was enough)) got up and said Anthony calm down and his quick witted reply was “don’t Anthony me”. I didn’t really have a clever reply to it other then “ok do the hustle do do dooo doo do da do do”, although that is my preset reply to anything in my mind, I do hope that guy is OK though, he disappeared off the radar when he left college). These people, I am happy to say will be life long friends, I am in awe of them and I couldn’t love them more.

  

Now when I have an issue, I usually speak to certain people I spoke about above, or wait until I don’t care anymore, not the I don’t care thing I mentioned earlier, real not caring. Although that process does take a few months/years. Even when my Crohn’s is acting up, I don’t talk about it or mention it, in fear that I will get sympathy.

I’m not an alpha male at all at the moment, but one thing I have learnt over the years is to never show weakness to the outsiders. A bleak thought I know, one that has probably stopped some friendships from getting past stage 2, but it’s one that has been buried into my mind like a flower in the back garden.

Their was a situation at my old drama group when we played a game called "chairs". This game requires you to imagine the chair is the person you’ve needed to speak to for ages. In doing so, you say the things you’ve needed to get out. This memory is one that I can’t help but regret deeply, even while typing this I’m tensing and squinting at the sheer thought of it (I even did a shiver that was so crazy it had pulled my neck muscles, the cheeky rascals). I had gotten carried away in the moment, not only going once but a total of three times (twice before the break, third time after), the last one ending with me storming out crying. “What had possessed me to even think it was a good idea to do it?!” I would yell at myself on nights pondering over it. I’m not a follower, neither am I an obvious leader, but I’m certainly not a follower, so what had allowed me to break all conformities which have all been set in stone? What angers me most at myself about the situation, is that I even did it, my issues weren’t as big as others, I didn’t need people to know my problems, especially those I didn’t really know. A place in which for a while I felt was a sanctuary, an opportunity to hang out with my best mates and where I could spend valuable time with one that I had loved for so long, was ruined for me. I don’t blame the owners or anyone else for the way I feel about it, that day is up for anyone’s presumption, but for me, it was one I regretted. After that, the drama class felt dirty to me, like they had witnessed me taking a dump in a circle and then backfliping into it, I felt dishonoured. It didn’t bring those who I didn’t really like to me, it only acted as a deterrent for me to never do anything similar again. It was pandemonium at the end, a guy smashed a window, another was weeping so hard onto another’s shoulder that he had a nose bleed, all of them with problems that warranted affection, love and sympathy, wishing for all of them to get better. I had made a hasty retreat and recovered, to make sure everyone was happy and smiling, but with a constant haunting feeling that I had some how ruined my natural, light-hearted persona for those in the room. A sub reason to why I think I had taken that day so badly is that their really wasn’t anyone else I could blame. Yes we could of not continued the game after the break, yes we could of just not played that game at all, yes my girlfriend at the time could of not run into the toilet at break, leaving me on my own, but I was the one who decided to take part, no one forced me. It was definitely an experience, one that I am slightly grateful for, but still one I regret.

My humour

I just want to secure something safely in the bank. My humour, the reason why I’m always making jokes (whether they be good or bad) is not a subconscious attempt to hide my insecurities. My insecurities are few and far between and if you spend enough time with me, you’d probably realise I make jokes out of everything. I’m comfortable with myself, yes I would like to gain weight if the Crohn’s let me, of course I’d love to be taller, but all these things I don’t really have control over, so I don’t see it as a problem. It’s not a coping mechanism either because I’m secretly gay (which is what every answer book about any action that I take will probably lead too). Nothing wrong with being gay, in fact if I was gay I’d probably be a whole lot funnier and less “seemingly flirtatious” towards women because of my friendliness and humour. Thinking about it, I think it would just switch over so guys would feel that way (I attract a lot of straight men for some reason?). My humour, is my humour, I love making jokes, I love creativity, which is why I hardly plan most things I say and I love making people happy and smile. It’s an addiction to me, if you laugh at the things I say I will not only fall in love with you slightly but I will also become more and more aware of what you find funny and stick with it. But in a generalised way so those who don’t a have similar humour could probably laugh at it to. Although, their is a girl I’ve been good friends with for a while (lies! All lies, kidding), we end up doing strange sounds together for about an hour, giggling away like Japanese school girls who have just seen the new cute (hentai) anime bunny. I love making people happy, I love making them feel things in a positive way (or a negative way if I’m acting and it’s the desired thing to need, like I’m playing a paedophile sports player who just shagged his team mates girlfriend ((no I’m not saying John Terry is a paedophile, I just added it for an increased anguish towards the character in question!). Overall, I just want people to smile more then they do, to be a reason for happiness, if there was anything I wanted more then becoming a well regarded actor, is to see those who I love, and those who deserve it, to be happy.

I may not speak to certain people as much as I would hope, I may seem distant at times, but never think I would want anything other then the best for you, unless you’re a nazi/unicorn or anything similar.

Summary

To be perfectly honest with you all, I’ve never felt happier. I feel a sense of completion at the moment. It won’t last and that’s not me being pessimistic, I hardly ever feel this happy, which is why I treasure these moments. I’m currently on my own, cooking for myself. As much as I find it inevitable that I will get a “pad” on my own, I don’t mind the thought of it. It even excites me at the thought of getting a pad with someone I truly love. It’s not a depressing thought, it’s just one that makes me smile that smile only associated with the thoughts of the future and aspiration (or bacon).

I just want to say thank you to all of those have supported me over the month, the regular readers, the future readers and those who can read in general (won’t insert any dyslexic bashing, or deshing as they would write). So this is it from the project, thank you again, it’s been fun. It’s not a goodbye, it’s a cya later (when I remember what film that is from I will be fully complete and then sail away into the distant sunlight to the sounds of Bon Iver “for Emma”). If you have just read this one, I implore you to read the others and tell me what you think, same to those who have read all of them, fudge it, to those who have anything to think, tell me.

So thank you again, I love you all. This is it, for now, much love

Twitter

www.twitter.com/seanjosephyoung

Day Thirty! Puberty, Monitored by Facebook (and a Harry Potter Mention!)

Introduction

God headache, why won’t you go away! I’ve had a horrible piercing headache all day! I’ve taken everything I can, I even tried to sniff up a nail because apparently it would help (it didn’t!). Along with that, my groin muscles are acting up (too much sex, with the wall). I’ve had that problem on and off for a few years now and it always happens un-dramatically. It’s not like I saved a goal from going in with a diving tackle on the 93^rd minute, its more “I got up ever so slightly faster then my leg was expecting”. God I sound like an old man, I think that’s my problem, I have the view on life like a 60 year old man. That’s probably why I quite like long relationships and werther's original (or as they say in Phoneshop, nonse nuggets). My idea of bliss is being tucked away in a tropical island with a wife and access to seeing a few of my friends. No hussle and bussle, no troubles or worries. It sounds like a universal dream, but I’ve heard quite a lot of goals would be going out, taking loads of drugs and getting with women. That idea is fine, except that’s only one night, it doesn’t really take up any responsibilities for the day after, when you find out you’ve sold one of your own hands to a gypsy for shelter against the purple storm gathering in your left eye socket. F*cking gypsies.

The Times They are a Changing

It’s taken me 30 blogs but I’ve managed to get a Bob Dylan lyric in there! 5 points to Gryffindor! Actually thinking about it, would I be in that team? I feel like I’d be in Gryffindor but there is just something so awesome about Slytherin. I mean, they can’t all be that evil if they’ve actually made a team for it, right? This is coming from the guy who hasn’t watched the last two films or read any of the books! Let’s see how many readers I lose after declaring that.

Anyway! It’s going to be quite hard for me to stay on subject, what subject you say!? Exactly. Having Facebook (or any other social medium) has opened up loads of doors and has changed the way we perceive social definition. Along with that, it has been interesting to watch people redefine and grow as people over the time I have been friends with them on Facebook. Like when you see a photo of them when they joined Facebook and they looked like Jabba the Hut! Then you look at there current photo and they miraculously look like Jabba the Hut but with a new scarf, it’s still interesting to see. If I could post the before and after photos of people reconfiguring their looks and puberty taking them by the throat, I would. But I’m pretty sure you could see it for yourself! I have quite a few people who I grew up with, who now look completely different too how they looked previously.

Hell, quite a lot of them have replaced there own display pictures to photos of an ultra sound. Although, I do sometimes fear that they just have stolen the photo from someone else and advertised it as their own (what I’m trying to say is, all the ultra sound photos look the same! No offence or anything but I genuinely got worried that a baby had 3 mums and no dad, as they posted similar photos all in unison). Either that is their baby or they have gone for the ultra “retro photo” of themselves. Congratulations to all new mums by the way!

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, which is why ugly people usually wear eyepatches. Just made that up! It’s astonishing to see how people have transformed and fluctuated there sense of style, weight and beliefs. I have recently discovered changes in myself, not just from the height difference (I never said the noticeable changes wouldn’t be subtle *Sad face*). I recently watched something that broke my heart a little bit, I re-watched Jurassic Park Lost World, didn’t enjoy it that much.

Summary

For all the things I hate Facebook for, this is not one of them. I find it intriguing to see people become who they’ve always wanted to be, too live out there dreams as the person they have always wished to live there lives as. The years to which I will live out are more defining then any of the other years previous. The expectations, the dreams, the surprises, all will probably be revealed on Facebook and I will probably roll my eyes and sigh at most of the moany ones, even my own.

One thing I love is the fact that the word processor I was using on my Nan’s computer didn’t like the word blog. Yet on this word processor at my home, it’s totally fine with blog AND Gryffindor!

Podcast

http://themetaphoricalbeard.podomatic.com/entry/2011-08-17T15_09_58-07_00

Twitter

www.twitter.com/seanjosephyoung

Tumblr

www.themetaphoricalbeard.tumblr.com

Blogspot

www.themetaphoricalbeard.blogspot.com

Day Twenty-Nine! My incredibly Powerful Poetry (one's about a fish!)

Introduction

Home sweet home. While racking my brains for what to do on this blog, it reminded me of how AQA used to destroy my brains by forcing me to come up with bulls*it theories on poetry and why they said this and that and how it goes with the time of the piece. Some of the poets deserved such time and effort to decipher there complex satirical/biblical pieces. But one about Robin going on his own instead of hanging about with batman? 3 god damn pages required for it?! And the others, ones where they were so horny even tissues ran away from them, those that could only be written by 38year old virgins and housewives and those that were so dull they required to be read in a monotone.

I used to write poetry, quite a lot actually, which is one of the reasons why I was capable of writing that “rap” on the podcast so fast. So, here are my versions of complex verses required of harsh deciphering, prepare for a nose bleed. Not really, they might be a little silly but I wouldn’t say they are nose bleeders or even spoofs. But I can guarantee you one thing, I’m going to try and write them in 10minutes (each).

Fish Haiku, hi to you to

I really do hate fish

Especially those who think they can breathe

Admittedly, I’m a fish as-well.

Thou King of Confectionary

I arrive at my destination,

Where? No where to mention

As to avoid personal dissertations on the Bellys darkening affection,

“Thou have come to the right place, peon”

A man bellowed with feeling

Which deserved thunderaplus applause, enough to crack the ceiling,

Of the buildings surrounding and compounding.

“thy face is like a gravestone

Filled with fine etchings but below thou art empty!

For the grave robbers have come and gone and sticky there fingers down your throat or was it there thumb?

Either way I am glad you have come!

For I have foraged these goods from a far,

On horseback not by car,

For it is about the journey not the destination!

A ladies smile is important, not the teeth that have devoid creation.

Is it not!?” I smile and agree

Just for this man to continue so I can see what he can see.

“blood stone snap up a thicket,

As fast as a 3 striped suit doth fall over a ball at a party for cricket

Do you understand?

It is not about the destination, it is about the journey young man!

Because we would never eat a fish which hath turned up uninvited

Or bacon being brought without being sighted!

So choose wisely my dear, for I am the king of confectionary!

And I am fully aware of the destination and the journey, which information can be scary!

For I shan’t tell it to you!

Make a choice, do what I do

For thou art the king of confectionary”

I marvelled at this maverick for a second then made a choice that he could see.

Ok I’ll have a chesseburger meal and does ketchup come for free?

He smiles and says, “indeed”.

My cheese rap

Here are the lyrics to my rap about cheese, notice the use of yos for anticipation purposes!

Yo yo yo yo

Yoghurts easily made of cheese

Wipe it on my bigs lips makes me a g,

Can I get a call out from babybel

Cause I know mary and she uses it as gel.

Sperm referenceing on this questral

Makes me famous in the chedder festival!

Buy loads of cheese, give it loads of holes

For sexual reasons and instead of newspaper for the treason for my spy pleasing

They think it smells, yeah well smell sells

Why do you think susan boyle gets all the girls.

She got a cheesy smile, that’s all I’m saying

Like a fine cheese it never goes off

Just like the bodies in the basement, man that’s rough

I’m not waiting any more, enough’s enough

If theres grass on the field then stay away from the muff!

Monster making Morecambe milk malnourished

Bring a few cows and they will flourish to nourish the goodness

The motherfucking cheesy goodness, solero.

Summary

They are a bit silly, but I will give 20 points to anyone who can come up with a huge deciphering essay about them all, honestly I will be your best friend if you do it! SO check out my other blogs if you want, add me on twitter, buy the tshirt! Much love all!

Podcast

http://themetaphoricalbeard.podomatic.com/entry/2011-08-17T15_09_58-07_00

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Day Twenty-five Happy Go Lucky Goth

Introduction

What an eventful but lovely day it’s been, minus the weather. I had two castings today, one of them I will now be working on next week woop woop, get to meet Derren Brown! The other casting was a strange experience, which will be all explained below along with a little trouble I may have got myself into, enjoy.

Happy Go Lucky Goth

I got the casting yesterday for a thing called Kinkley (trust me, the amount of jokes that had run through my head when I was told could of got me arrested). If I were to get it I’d go to Tel Aviv in Israel for four days. I was a little bit worried about that because of the recent troubles in the vicinity and to calm me down, my brother said “you probably won’t die”, which is not comforting at all! I like my chances of dying to be so low that it won’t even be a respectable probability, not to mention I’d be dressed as a Goth if I get it, so that’ll really go down well with the locals.

After that I calmed myself down and I was kind of up for going there and doing it, except in the email it said that I had to dress like a Goth and wear as much make up as I can. So I put on my blue jeans white tshirt and for the Goth aspect of my clothing, a leather jacket? Now on hine sight, that’s not Goth at all but I had another casting an hour later so it had to do. I get there; they all look similar to me so it made me think maybe this won’t be a waste of time. I get into the casting and she well, she wasn’t happy. Anyway, I get out and see these 6ft 2 Mohican wearing tattoo and big boot stamping Goths. If they were my competition, I think I stand a pretty good chance…

There really isn’t anything Gothic about me, I do look a bit pastey sometimes but that’s because I bathe in paste, sexy paste. But don’t judge me though; I’m just a bit Kinkley.

Stop Laughing at my Disabled Child!

I was walking around Leicester Square after my second casting, slightly bored as I knew I’d have to wait at Euston for my train. I thought I’d do it in a place where people don’t pass wind and then do circles round you, or where I won’t get shouted at for eating Burger King because the company are testing the food on African babies (which surely they'd be grateful for if it was true?).

After a while I started to notice people who had press passes for a local horror film festival, so I played a little game where I just counted how many I saw before I got to the staition, this is when it happened. I had noticed a boy wearing a long jacket, big red scarf with tassels on it and a hunters hat. There was just something about it that I found hilarious and couldn’t help looking incredibly rude as I attempted (and failed) to hold in my laugh. I tried to avoid looking at him as he walked past so I looked into the distance and just starting laughing. Unfortunately that “distance” contained a handicapped child who had dropped his ice cream. When I realised, I felt so bad, and as I walked past them the mother literally peered into my soul. I wanted to apologise but I reckoned that if she actually didn’t notice my mistake then it would look a whole lot worse if I went up to her and said “sorry I wasn’t laughing at your handicapped daughter struggling to pick up her ice cream off the floor, I was laughing at a boy with a funny hat”.

Summary

Maintaining a perfect thing is always hard to do, which is why I really wrench myself about when I feel as if something isn’t adequate. I tend to react quite badly inside if a casting hasn’t gone right or a blog isn’t up to the hardships I had previously put myself in to get it right the day before. I just hope that the ones that I feel aren’t adequate in my eyes are up to par in others, the same with everything else. I really do rip myself a new one if I feel as if I haven’t done as well as I could or should. So on that note I bid you a due and I hope everything is going well for you, just you, you saucy bugger. 

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http://themetaphoricalbeard.podomatic.com/entry/2011-08-17T15_09_58-07_00

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Twenty-Four What Time is it? Introvert Time so Quiet Please

Introduction

There is something about having insomnia that is so tiring! I fell asleep around 5 this morning and then was woken up by Emma from Conexxions or however they’ve got it spelt (Eema probably). I was expecting her to talk down to me and say my career path is leading to erectile dysfunction (metaphorically speaking, I’m not a cockfencer or anything), but instead she is going to text me about evening work, so I think I’ve just become a prostitute. If so, I do hope Emma is my pimp, as she came across as demanding but generally nice and probably would send a rescue team if I was with someone that was doing things he/she didn’t pay for (like talking, the disgusting pig!). I have thought about hiring an escort once or twice in my life when I’ve felt lonely, not because I really want to have sex with someone, but when I really fancy playing multiplayer on an Xbox game and my brother is out.

Hopefully I don’t sound like a Whiney emotional Ass Foot (being an introvert)

As an introvert I tend to not feel much loneliness until I haven’t seen anybody for a week or two, I quite like staying home and left to think about things (mainly badgers). Of course I love seeing my friends but I seem to have days out/nights out that something always happens to me (and not in the “I’m such a character I have an amazingly eventful life” sort of way, but in a “what the f*ck just happened, is that a duck being clamped?” sort of way), or I’m with someone who is having a drunken ramble about someone they’ve known for two weeks. It’s all just so tiring. When I get back home it feels like my mind is sitting on a leather couch in the darkened side of the room, stroking a slipper while bellowing “where the f*ck have you been? We’ve got conundrums to create and then solve for hours upon end”.  After I go out and have a really eventful night, I tend to avoid doing anything for a couple of days till I feel completely recharged. Although I admit, every time I go out, I never have a dull time, I’ve always got a story to tell in the end and depending on what we are doing, I will have fun, be very friendly, make jokes and be a good guy (trying to emphasize I’m not a terrible person to hang out with!), because that’s me, I love having a laugh. But I also don’t like being in uncomfortable situations or overstaying my welcome (the latter absolutely kills me when I know we are doing it). But I am very grateful to have a really fantastic set of friends, I think if I were to have the power to design my preferred set of friends it would be these guys.

People have tried to help me get out of my introverted ways but it always goes tits up in one way or another. I really can’t help having a need to be on my own, but I am concerned that it will affect me in the future. I fear that if I find “the one” (at the moment it’s looking like the cat from next door, lucky lucky cat), she won’t ultimately understand my need to be alone sometimes, especially if we move in together. It’s never anything personal; I just need to be away from people for a little bit (that’s not a personal attack on my currently nonexistent future girlfriend!). Although if she was the one then she’d probably understand, I better show this to the cat so it knows what it’s getting into.

One way I deal with feeling the need and there isn’t a way of getting away from a person is I just go quiet and into thought, but that is a rarity with most people I’m not 100% comfortable with. So if there is extended quietness after a few days with you then it means I’m really comfortable round you (congratulations!). It really hasn’t impacted me a lot as I don’t tend to spend so much time out with someone that it happens. I do like a good thought when I’m doing something that requires a one man effort (standing on a train or taking photos with my camera), and I might have a glum face on, but if you tell me too smile I will then spend the next 10minutes beating you to death in my mind with various humorous weapons (it’s a pet peeve of mine as it is, let alone breaking my train of thought!). I am a smiley happy go lucky person most of the time so if I’m not smiling it’s probably because my face hurts!

It’s not a cool and trendy thing to be, no where near, in fact it’s very uncool. It makes writing about myself in a deep way absolutely killer and I pretty much feel like I’ve murdered someone when I write about what I feel my pros are (cvs feel like burying a bunny alive). So this blog has been really hard for me to do, I wrote it on the 10^th and have been debating whether to put it up or not. Even when I’ve struggled for ideas I’ve thought it wouldn’t be a good idea. But, if I don’t put it up then I pretty much am rendering the whole process pointless.

Summary

There is a site that best explains what an introvert is. Thank god it says something about not being shy because that’s what the generalised opinion about it is. Just want to say, if this actually does warrant sympathy I really don’t want it, no offence to anyone, but I just really don’t like the attention placed upon a problem when I don’t see it as one that deserves so much attention. If anyone wants to talk about it properly then email me on this or find my facebook. And before anyone asks, I’m fine! Nothing is wrong and I just felt it was necessary to write this blog because it’s not something that people understand completely. I’m doing it more for awareness purposes then attention purposes. Same for when I do the Crohn’s Disease Blog. Also with the link below, I was thinking about not linking it because the url makes me look a bit egotistical! I didn’t mean it, it’s just the url! Also the part where it sums up the only conversations an introvert can have, is wrong in my part. If you ever hold a conversation with me it will probably vary from deep philosophical talks to how fast a lizard would go on a rainbow if it had magic powers (and everything in between that, I like conversations, what can I say).

http://giftedkids.about.com/od/glossary/g/introvert.htm

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http://themetaphoricalbeard.podomatic.com/entry/2011-08-17T15_09_58-07_00

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Day Twenty-Three- Blaming Past Sean and the Book Of Anger!

Introduction

I’m football crazy! Football mad! I’d spend time watching it if I had a dad (I have a dad). Now to try and power through another one of these blogs, can’t believe it’s the 24^th day! Nearly done, then I could probably do a blog a week as I’ve actually quite enjoyed this. I have plenty of plans that I will reveal on the final days if you haven’t been listening to the podcast, all to which are schemes that licence testing. I also hit 500 views on my blog a day ago, so very happy about that! This blog is going to be about a little character called, Past Sean.

Past Sean is a Big Dick

I’m not talking about regretting my past, nothing like that. But the small choices or lazy moments that have then forced me to pick up the slack later down the road. Just looking at the bass I’ve never used which clutters my room makes me annoyed at "past Sean". I also bought a leather jacket that I never wear because it’s too much of a statement. I can’t be put in the bracket of emo rocker because I have a tendency to be happy and I love a cartwheel from time to time. But it even gets smaller then that, I’ve had to clean out mouldy cups from my room and have even nearly drunk out of them in the middle of the night.  All these things have been caused from "Past Sean"! I even think like that a bit now, I have a collection of bent and tattered photos on my wall that I had called the Happy Wall (this isn’t an attempt at a melodramatic metaphor I promise) but now all the photos are falling off and I’m tending to find them in strange places (had one stuck to my back for a few hours!). I would sort it out but I’m going to leave it for future Sean, for when he gets so annoyed at finding another photo in his boxers (ballbag paper cut anyone?).

I also once found a half eaten galaxy cake bar in my favourite bag which filled me with anger, only to remember specifically saying to myself “OK don’t forget about that”. I think referring my past mistakes as a living being kind of gives me comfort in the idea of becoming a more reliable/anal man, either that or I’m completely nuts ("Completely Nuts" being the arch nemesis of "Anal Man").

One thing I am thankful for is that I never do anything that I think I might look back on and hate in the future. Like getting a Nike tick shaved in the back of my hair or getting a piercing on my eyebrow (bellend boyband power!). One thing I think about that a friend of mine might regret is her mime video to a Disney song. If you don’t think it’s that bad then let me change that. She has edited it and done it seriously with no sense of irony or sillyness to it. She even does the lying on the bed laying her chin on her hands, then rocking her head side to side and singing. How can anyone do that without realising how silly it looks?! I think the only video I kind of look back and sigh is the video of me pulling forward one of those spring projected rocking horses in a kids playground then letting it go, smashing me in the nuts. Not because I didn’t find it funny, I did but, it just hurt so much (damn you Anal Man).

BOOK OF ANGER

My brother was cleaning out his office when he found a book I had written in. I clamoured at this book to find what significant artefacts I can find out about myself. The first few pages were a list of things I’ve got to do, all as monotonous and unexciting as the next (as a previous attempt to eradicate "Past Sean", I presume). After a few pages, I started to get bored but then I noticed a bit of writing on a completely random page (literally was about 40 pages of blank and then this). On this page I had scribbled the line “anyone who says “darling I like being fashionably late” is a gimp”. To think this book is four years old! What had angered me so much that I had to write that down!

Summary

With the current situation of mine being a little bit sporadic, I have decided to give myself a little “to do” list. Along with that, I’m giving myself points (doing this blog is worth 10, a wopping 10!)! A little sad, but I don’t have a girlfriend to sigh at me about it, so I’m going to go ahead and do it and then let Future Sean look back and think how much of a ballknuckle I am/used to be. Inception… INCEPTION… IT’S STILL SPINNING!

Podcast

http://themetaphoricalbeard.podomatic.com/entry/2011-08-17T15_09_58-07_00

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Day Twenty-Two Television Centre and the Constant Theme of Wee

Introduction

Again I think I’m going to start it off by saying I’m incredibly tired and ill. It’s definitely a running theme in my blogs and I wouldn’t be surprised if people could tell when I was at my most tired as the content wears thin (minus yesterday, I just couldn’t think of anything good to say at all!).

Call it a Diary

I had a casting at the BBC Television Centre today. Every time I go there I always feel a sense of importance. Just knowing who has been inside it makes me have an overwhelming feeling of worth (a bit like teabagging an oscar, or something similar of course). I had a pretentious idea that I should walk in and out of the building with a smug (but undeserving) face for the next three hours so passersby thought I was famous. I didn’t though, because I don’t think anyone would see the funny side and well I’d look like a bit of a dick head walking out then a minute later walking back in and repeating (although I am giggling a little bit at the thought because I’m a sad tired ill man). I tend to get really bored waiting for my scenes so I usually create things I should do. It reminds me of a story that Zack Galifianakis told on The Nerdist podcast. While he was in a film called Below, he would have quite a few days off and the production would give him money to spend on food. He was hanging about at night in Trafalgar Square, bored. So he would go to random strangers, trying to pay them 50 quid to look at the moon with him.

Train Piss

Journey back on the train to Euston from White City always has a long winded feeling even though it’s only about six stops. At one point of the journey on this cramped rush hour train, I had a couple in my personal space as they were all up in each others grill, which I could deal with. What I couldn’t deal with is that this particular couple both smelt like piss and sweat. As disturbed as I was, I kind of admired the fact that both of them definitely smelt like it, not just one of them. They were one piss smelling entity.

Turn that Smell Down!

I managed to get pasta at marks and sparks in Euston before rushing to my train. I sat down and looked at my pasta in excitement as I had not eaten for a few hours and it was my opportunity to show this pasta whose boss. As soon as I opened it, some guy standing up walked past me and yelled “turn that smell down!”. I was initially confused and a little scared so I just said “sorry ok will do” as he pressed the button to first class and left. I couldn’t think of anything clever to say, in fact I can’t think of anything clever to say towards it now. It was just so random and I don’t think he really knew what he said, he only knew how he felt, that my pasta was fucking stinky, and it was, there was no denying it. Kind of makes me think that something really must of pissed him off and my pasta tipped him over the edge.

Summary

If you know me then you’d know I’m not a huge clubbing fan. So when I find an album with pictures of a local club doing a wet tshirt competition, I was a bit jubilant. As I went through it, I noticed all the girls were drunk and they all were victims of terribly timed photographs (quite a few of them look like they’ve been asked to do there best elephant man being slapped in the face with a wet fish look), also there is a photo of a naked man, within this photograph you can see the floor of where they are doing the wet tshirt competition, is all yellow. Nothing more sexy then drunken women dancing and prancing about in wee. This blog has the most mention of urine in it, which really pisses me off.

Here’s the link of what I’m talking about, I didn’t put the photo up as I don’t want to inflict it on anyone, just click on it and look at the water. But it really does sum up why i don't go clubbing, let alone in Watford.

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=190908887640807&set=a.190901394308223.49041.100001650908148&type=1&theater

Twenty-One- Top Three Non-Obvious Comedians.

Introduction

Heard an alarming buzzing noise, thought it was the laptop. Turned out it wasn’t the laptop but was coming from my mum shaving my step dads back. Brilliant. Today has been allright just quite frustrating for no good reason. What has ultimately frustrated me in a tiny way is the mental block I am currently having. I just don’t feel capable of having an intriguing analytical thought today, at all. So it’s actually going to be a short one to avoid causing any issue! Here is my top three non-obvious comedians:

Three: Russell Kane

Two: Simon Evans

One: Jon Richardson

Summary

Loved Russell Kane as soon as he started doing the fiva usa idents a few years back. Simon Evans was brilliant as the warm up when i went to see Lee Mack. Can't find a really good video of him but still!

Jon Richarson is a sublime comedian and one I kind of relate too the most. Always loved him since he done the radio six show with Russell Howard and I’m really glad he is starting to make a successful career for himself.

Day Twenty- One of Those Day's (and Why Get Angry at Nothing?)

Introduction

This might be a short one, it might not. Actually I won’t put it in that bracket I’ll just put it in the “just one of those day’s” category. This is due to my tiredness along with contributing factors of not feeling well at all and others I don’t feel necessary to mention. I won’t go into yesterday night to which is a factor to blame in why I’d probably feel a little bothered/like a mess, but lets just say, it was “one of those nights”.

One of Those Days

This “just one of those days” scenario is a day compacted with tiny mishaps and unfortunate events. So far I’ve managed to forget I had crisps in my pocket when I sat down, got up to fast from a lying position and lost sight for a few seconds and fell up the stairs (not downstairs, I’m not an animal). The best one was when I tried to pump myself up for the day by looking in the mirror and telling myself “it’ll all be ok” (I never usually do that, too scared my reflection will reply with “nothing will be ok until you kill your neighbours” or something to that description), only to notice I had chocolate on the side of my neck, which is bad, but not as bad as recalling the last time I had chocolate was yesterday afternoon. My reaction to it all could be a number of options, all as significant and drama queeny the higher up the metaphorical ladder of options I go. I’ve gone with the option of sighing and then getting on with it (which is how I deal with pretty much all my problems, even when I had a problem about how much I sigh). The one I try to avoid the most is getting angry at something that I can’t change, this is due to the fact that I will gain nothing from getting myself so stressed out about it (F**K YOU LARGE HADRON COLLIDER, WHY DON’T YOU PARTICLE ACCELORATE THESE NUTS WHILE YOU ATTEMPT TO UNDERSTAND THE DEEPER MEANING OF MY GOOCH, anyway.) Actually completely off subject for a moment, comedian appreciation time:

Why Get so Angry at Nothing?

I try not to get angry at the small things, what’s the point of it? It’ll just get me more stressed, which in turn isn’t good for my health or the people surrounding me (when I get angry I have a tendency to roundhouse kick blindly, I don’t actually but can you imagine?! I can, you won’t believe what I just imagined! That’s right, a rhino playing hopscotch on the back of a tiny unicorn, the spike headed cracka). When I see people go all drama queen on my ass and get really angry about the small things, I just get down. Then when they’ve resolved their problems by listening to some depressing music and dropkicking a dyslexic down some alphabetty spaghetti stairs (it’s a featuring trend in Slovakia), they are met with a disappointed smile, as they notice I wasn’t really cool with the outburst.

A problem of mine is that I tend to give people too many excuses, in the sometimes futile attempt to understand the modicum of motivation they had used to be disgruntled. But when it comes down to it, I tend to fall back on the more plausible and consistently correct deduction that they are just over reacting and being a little childish. I just don’t get why people relish in making a big deal out of a little thing. It’s like saying “the car is ruined” just because someone deleted a photo of said car on their phone.

Why can’t people just realise that maybe some things aren’t worth getting angry about? Why can’t we all just notice that when thing’s can’t be changed, then they can’t be changed, no matter how many post-boxes you kick and punch out of primal frustration and built up rage. I say this because I used to do it (get angry, not practice judo on an inanimate objects, I don’t want to be embarrassed when I get my arse kicked by it), but now I just chill. Life is a conundrum, an unexplainable ride of experiences and emotions with no real control over anything with a heartbeat. Surely we all know this, so let’s just make things run smoother, no-one wants another dyslexic kicked down a spiral staircase while they carry books (which they no doubt read perfectly the liars! Kidding)

Summary

I’ve decided the “it’s just one of those days” invigilator is a Tyrannosaurus Rex. With this knowledge, I’ve deduced the proclamation that I shall not move all day, and as we all know, good ol’ Rexxy can only see moving creatures (I got that from Jurassic Park, but the more I think about it the more I start to think that it can’t be true, because that’d be so pointless and they’d be screwed travelling near trees. With that and the tiny arms, I’m starting to think they perhaps were disabled nerds and the Spinosaurus mocked them in the locker room after P.E, while the iguanodon dribbled and gave a constant thumbs up. Bullies I say! Bullies! God, I’ve just realised I just did a few jokes for a crowd that is smaller then a Sex in the City Storyline). I can obviously say I was wrong at the beginning, it wasn’t short at all! And for that I say, deal with it! Don’t like it? Well I’m having one of those days (and the blog becomes full circle).

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http://themetaphoricalbeard.podomatic.com/entry/2011-08-17T15_09_58-07_00

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Day Nineteen- Trailer Top Four

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Introduction

“Hey Sean, try and sort yourself out quickly so we can leave early” “OK sure”. Two hours later “Sean, you sorted?” “Yes”. Meanwhile in reality, I’ve gone ahead and wasted about 2hours looking at trailers and not done anything else! So, I thought I’d put it to use by putting up my top four Trailers! There are obvious ones I was going to link but have decided not to. Want to know my obvious ones? New Dark Knight Trailer to which I’m really excited about (Bane looks like Scorpion from Mortal Kombat but I’m really not complaining). Others are Fright Night and the new Johnny English filmoreno. Anyway, my top four trailers of this week!

Top Four Trailers of the Week

Four: The Ides of March

I just couldn't not put this in. I happen to not only be a huge fan of Ryan Gosling and George Clooney (slight man crush on him), but Paul Giamatti as well. If you have ever seen him in Shoot'em Up or Sideways, you’d understand my love for him. So with those powerhouses, along with Philip Seymour Hoffmen, it is guaranteed to atleast be a semi adequate film. This slick film is about an idealistic Ryan Gosling learning all about the dos and don’ts in the dirty game of politics. Probably a possible Oscar contender, if not that then an obvious further stepping stone Ryan Gosling is on to solidify him as a well regarded actor.

Three: Archies Final Project

This stylised documentary style movie has won a ludicrous amount of film awards, understandably as well. It’s got a real Super size Me/Zeitgeist sort of feel mixed with shards of A Scanner Darkly with the cartoon style bits. Gabriel Sunday plays Archibold Holden Buster Williams (I’d feel the same way he does if I had that name) who plans to film his own suicide for his film project, this idea brings attention from all those around him, including the nutty Sierra Silver (played by Brooke Nevin). The film looks entertaining, maybe a little heavy at points but there isn’t anything wrong with that. Would definitely fill the independent craving hole (you filthy devil you). Huge props to Gabriel Sunday, the guy wrote, edited and produced this film!

Two: The Last Circus

This looks mental. Absolutely mental! I know people who have problems with foreign films because of there style and because they just can’t be asked to read (if you feel that way then you are missing out on Guillermo Del Toro movies like Pan’s and The Orphanage along with Rec and Javier Bardem’s Biutiful…Microsoft Word is going nuts at that sentence, the racist). This film honestly looks awe-inspiring and creatively driven in so many directions. It really is admirable in this day and age of movies that suffer from originality and sequelitis (you can get cream for that) that they would have the balls to release this.

In 1937, a "Happy" clown is forcibly recruited to serve in the Spanish Civil War, where he massacres an entire platoon with a machete still in costume.
In 1973, near the end of the Franco regime, the clown's son, Javier, follows in his father's footsteps to become a clown, but he is too miserable to be funny and is instead relegated to play the part of the Sad Clown. There he is repeatedly humiliated by the Happy Clown Sergio for the entertainment of others. Javier later falls in love with Sergio's gorgeous acrobat wife, Natalia. A love triangle ensues between the three of them, and the two clowns engage in a horrific battle with one another (this was taken from Wikipedia, I’m running out of time and the scary clown boner I have is starting to hurt).

One: Tucker and Dale vs Evil

I’m really craving this film, like maoam sugarcoated in crack cocaine. It has a sexy Shaun of the Dead feel to it. This spoof movie has such an original idea, showing the story of the hicks who aren’t actually killing them but have become a centre focus of a series of unfortunate accidents and presumptions (presumptions causing problems? Unheard of in life, sour sour flower power….*shrugs*). Not that I’m saying the mutated hicks in The Hills Have Eyes weren’t killing anyone (chainsaw hug anyone?). The hillbillys are played by Tyler Labine (Reapers) and Alan Tudyk (Firefly, Serenity, I Robot, Dodgeball).

Summary

If your goal is to be disturbed by a film then The Hills Have Eyes Two is the film for you! Hell, the first three minutes involving a pregnant lady was disturbing enough, let alone the badger in a gimp mask (not actually in there, a boy can dream though). Anyway, I apologise if you want a further in-depth analysis of these films, I’m not clambering at excuses like a child with a bloody knife and a new furry jacket, but I haven’t watched the movies yet so will probably be able to really go into the Mise-en-scène on a later date. Have a good weekend my beardy weirdies (that’s right, you got a name now, so off you go and frolock!)