blogitude.com

48-hour Film Project

Zacque — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 16:30:56 +0000

This nifty little project involves you and/or your buddies and a sleepless weekend. On the Friday, you’re the basics: character, prop, a line of dialogue, and then a genre in for your film. Within the next 48 hours you movie must be complete and then will be shown in a week at a local theater.

The closest this project has come to home was Nashville, Tn. The outcome of the project will be shown at the Belcourt Theatre. So without futher ado, here is a trailer of the film Cock. A tale of drugs, cops, money, sex and lots of laughs along the way.

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V8GmcSM-JdA)

At the End of the Rainbow

Zacque — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 00:47:22 +0000

This rainbow capped off a rather crummy day. Like always, its whats at the end of the rainbow that counts. Its very nice to see the sky smile at you.

Pet Projects: Graphic Design

Zacque — Sun, 20 Jul 2008 02:51:11 +0000

Over the last little bit I have been trying my hand at some graphic design for a few local businesses. Rhino Linings of Knoxville is one of those special companies which had a need for some serious visual stimulation. So without further ado, I give you the Knox Rhino masterpiece(s).

The Drama is Over

Ann — Sat, 19 Jul 2008 20:07:50 +0000

The Wildcat and the Volunteer are finally together.

Permanently.

I’m moving to Tennessee!

We really found out who our friends were at Mary Breckinridge Hospital — maybe two or three — and the rest can kiss our asses! In Knoxville, Mark’s friends became better friends than I ever had in Leslie County. When they ask you how you’re doing, they really mean it. And when they say they love you, they really mean it, too.

At this moment, we’re right where we need to be. We’re right where we belong. We’re soulmates. Right where God intended us to be, and nobody can keep us apart.

Mark, I love you with all my heart. I’ve never met anyone who’d fight this hard for me. You proved it… you proved your love. Because you stuck by me when no one else would, you showed things that no one else ever has. Your showed me what true love is.

And for that, all I can do is return that and say, thank you so much.

Kenny Chesney: Better as Memory

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QBgNbSA4WdM)

But he finally met somebody he can’t just be a memory to.

Oh, baby… I love you.

Always.

So to all the ladies before me, thank you for moving over so the Wildcat could move in!

Mood Music

Mark — Sat, 19 Jul 2008 18:40:39 +0000

Nine Inch Nails: We’re in This Together

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K1Zulx4mjHk)

I’ll leave the write-up for later.

Sleep and Smiles

Zacque — Sat, 19 Jul 2008 06:12:17 +0000

I would like to think generally I am a happy person. While I may get upset or distraught, I thought that I smiled quite a bit.

…then a bet was made…

Since then I have a new found source of smiles. I am full of joy, smiles and deep rooted satisfaction. You might say I am quite possibly back to being my normal uber-cheery self and happy for no apparent reason. I need many more days like this to follow.

Playing Out a Funk (Reprise)

Mark — Sat, 19 Jul 2008 05:21:53 +0000

Took a little reak, and then picked it up again — no pun intended. That guitar kills my fingers.

They bleed … it hurts to type.

Been working with a new company a little lately, introducing some of my customers and doing a bit of cross-promotion. I’ve also been working on some experimental car stuff a bit and doing a bit of research.

But all in all, not one single bit of it makes me miss my Wildcat any less.

Playing Out a Funk

Mark — Sat, 19 Jul 2008 04:12:07 +0000

Ok, it seems Pink Foyd: The Wall is becoming a recurring theme.

I’ve been sitting here most of the night, rebuilding a couple of laptops, listening to the Wall Sountrack (which is a little different than the actual album). A bit ago, I decided to pick up the guitar and play along with it.

My fingers are bleeding…

I gotta either quit playing, or play more.

But I miss my Wildcat … so I play.

Mood Music

Mark — Sat, 19 Jul 2008 00:58:35 +0000

Now, even YouTube hates me … Just click the links under the videos.

Dido: Thank You

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_1CjbcqhGyU)

Colby Caillat: Bubbly

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2PWfB4lurT4)

Miss you, baby.

The Only Difference

Lilith — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 01:40:21 +0000

It started as a slight itch in his nose; a tingle in the beginning. If you were experiencing it, it would only have been enough of an itch to bring your finger up to scratch and then go on. The hour he spent searching for the illusive object with the tweezers, he didn’t scratch just so he could remove whatever it was. He made up for the torture of not scratching by moving his finger quickly, over and over again…feeling the sensation of relief for one single second before the itching began again. He pulled the tweezer out of his nose and scratched, rubbed and desperately dug with his finger to find the twig-like thing in his nose; knowing he had proof that something was there. The relief affected his entire body, giving him goose bumps and the confusing sensation as though he had just had an orgasm. He would have checked his pants, but the itching continued.

But then the itching didn’t stop.

Another tingle, another scratch.
Another tingle, another scratch.

He noticed his nose was red from where he was scratching it so much. He put lotion on his nose and thought perhaps what caused his nose to itch so much was living in the dry air from furnace heat during the winter months. After all, his skin was scaly from getting so dry.

Two days later his nose was raw and red…but he continued to scratch despite how painful it was because the itching was much worse.

And then non-stop scratching.

The itching continued.

Three days later his nose was bleeding and burned when he scratched. But he couldn’t help himself. The incessant itching became maddening for him. He couldn’t sleep, he wasn’t eating…he wasn’t living. All he could do was keep scratching.

He looked in the mirror and cried as he scratched and rubbed his inflamed nostril. Blood stained his index finger and fingernails.

And then it began to itch deeper into his nose, but the sensation changed from tingling to more of a crawling feeling.

He stuck his finger deep inside his nose to relieve the itch and when he looked in the mirror, his finger was in his nose up to the knuckle and still, the itching continued.

He had not left home during these last three days. He couldn’t get to the door before having to scratch his nose. He felt embarrassed and incapacitated by the itch. He just knew at some point the itch would stop and he decided to wait it out.

But it didn’t stop.

Knuckle deep in his nose, wiggling his finger around, rubbing and scratching, he felt a slight prick by what seemed like the tip of a twig.

“What the fuck is that? What the goddamned fuck is in my nose?” he thought to himself. He grabbed his tweezers and put them deep inside his nose.

At first, the cold metal felt good against his hot and sore nose. But then the metal felt uncomfortable and burned in the way that metal objects don’t belong that far into a nasal cavity and his body let him know it through pain. He kept pinching and searching for the twig-like thing, and an hour later he finally felt it again. He pinched tightly and pulled slowly to make sure he could pull whatever it was out. He felt something move with his slight pull. Just as he felt hopeful, just as he felt confident he would be able to get it out, a piece of whatever it was broke off.

He looked down at the tweezers to determine what he had pulled from his nose. What he saw looked much like a splinter.

He shoved the tweezer back in and kept searching. The metal stung, his nose itched, and then…

he felt whatever it was in his nose move on its own.

It crawled up his nasal cavity, increasing the sensation of an itch that could only be matched by a horrible poison ivy exposure. It itched so much more intensely now that he could barely feel the movement of whatever it was inside his nose. His nose itched so much that he began to bleed some more and and the rawness burned like fire.

He stopped itching.

It stopped moving.

His head felt hot.

His nose throbbed.

He looked at his finger.

And then he fell to the floor.

He didn’t move.

The silence in the bathroom felt sterile.

Then began a scratching sound followed by the sound that iceburg lettuce makes when someone has ripped it in half. His head split in half and each of the halves rocked back and forth like a freshly discarded walnut shell.

There was nothing inside his head. No brains, no blood, no juices.

From the empty shell that used to house memories, a personality, and the blueprint for his life, crawled something that looked like a roach. Every part of its body was symmetrical - each half of it’s shell was identical to the other. Each leg had the same bend on one side as it did on the other side. Each eye carried the same glassy reflection of the bathroom light - a bright, obtuse, white shape in a pool of black glass.

The only difference was one of the bug’s antenna was shorter than the other.

blogitude.com

48-hour Film Project

Other Posts You Might Enjoy:

At the End of the Rainbow

Other Posts You Might Enjoy:

Pet Projects: Graphic Design

Other Posts You Might Enjoy:

The Drama is Over

Other Posts You Might Enjoy:

Mood Music

Other Posts You Might Enjoy:

Sleep and Smiles

Other Posts You Might Enjoy:

Playing Out a Funk (Reprise)

Other Posts You Might Enjoy:

Playing Out a Funk

Other Posts You Might Enjoy:

Mood Music

Other Posts You Might Enjoy:

The Only Difference

Other Posts You Might Enjoy: