Butch aka Travis

I have realised that very few things change in life. Here are three things this summer that once again have failed to change

1. Horrible Summer TV

Yes, thats right fucking Reba, If I ever find her Ill kill her, Reba is officially the worst piece of shit I have seen behind King of Queens, whom I shall also kill if I find her

2. Australian Cricket Team not losing, and the Hero Worship of Shane Warne

Shane Warne is a fucking criminal, but no one seems to care because he can spin a little red ball. In fact people are so entranced by his hallucinogenic mastery that some corners even think he should run for PM.

Also, people think Australia winning cricket all of the time is a good thing for the sport…. I do not.

3. Roger Federer

Honestly, why even let him play anymore? Why bother playing Tennis anymore? Why let him play against humans anymore? Just so some poor son of a bitch can train his ass off all year so that he can make the final of a Grand Slam so that Roger Federer can make him look stupid. This guy is like a robot, and personally, I would have more respect for him if he stopped giving acceptance speeches when being awarded the trophy, but just stood on the podium giving out an evil Dr. Claw-esque laugh for a few minutes before leaving the stadium.

Why do they even make him play preliminary rounds? They should just stick him in the final and let every other player play each other to see who gets to play Roger in the final. Its not his fault, he is half South African after all, even 50% is enough to make you great.

I’m actually becoming a bit sick of people referring to themselves as ‘writers’ despite the fact they actually don’t write anything.

Possessing the mind of the writer is a curse I would wish on no one. What rational human being lives in a constant dream state, in the nether region between reality and fiction their entire life? What healthy human being wakes up in a cold sweat at 3 am on a Monday morning, because an idea has suddenly popped into their head, and they feel they must put it down before it goes astray?

Unlike any other art form, people who proclaim themselves to be ‘writers’ need no evidence of it being so. There is no reason to churn out publicly accessible work for a mass of people to critique at once, unless you are a film writer.

A Guy I know

At current, in my ’scripts’ folder, I have 14 short films scripts, 7 feature film scripts and 2 Novel’s sitting in either an unfinished/finished or polished state. However, out of those 23 scripts on my hard drive, 3 have been produced, one has won awards, one has done nothing, and one is a feature.

Now it is time to turn to bed, where I will no doubt wrestle with my idea’s, reality and this incessant sleep, when I eventually drift into my favourite state of all, the dream state.

The Spin Starts Here

I have found a fantastic blog. If you are Australian, and hate pretty much all forms of Australian ‘entertainment’, check it

Its 1:30am and I can’t sleep. My mind is going through a crisis, a writer’s crisis.

I don’t have writers bloc, I have writers un-bloc, I have dozens of scripts and story’s both in long and short form pouring into my brain, but my ‘mediocrity‘ filter that sits somewhere between my ideas thyroid and my typing finger is full. I have a head full of ideas and not one I am happy with, basically, I am in writers hell.

I am being a little too dramatic, there are a few I am happy with. I am concentrating on making a really really good expensive short film, but the short film syndrome is killing me. Its the TWIST! the TWIST the goddamn hokey pokey TWIST that every short film maker incorporates into their scripts. I am beginning to hate the motherfucking twist (a clever turn of wit, much like Moliere I am still partial too, but the TWIST, which explains everything, I am not a fan of)

Jennie watched a short film the other day which I detest, yet she liked it.. “Why” I asked “Why do you like this unsophisticated, terribly dialogued waste of binary code” I yelled. She replied, “Its got a good TWIST“. I passed out and woke up several hours later on the lounge room floor. “What’s going on?” I asked myself “Had Chubby Checker thrown in the music and taken up writing short film scripts?”

Then I lead onto more concerns. Am I pretentious? Have I become a pretentious filmmaker thereby alienating myself completely from my peers and audience?

So there I go, I start writing this idea down, but then I broke out into a cold sweat, my fingers trembled, blood poured from my lips from my biting down on then, I felt nauseous, what was wrong with me? I realised something, I was not heading towards any TWIST, but to a concise ending!! Was this idea therefore ruined? Was my planned meeting with the funding body to make this mini masterpiece now undermined thanks to the lack of a (even half decent) twist, and my undeserved pretentiousness?

I also fear, that after the fantastic twist in a little short film called Old Man Time, that I have reached such a high calibre of a TWIST, it is hard to push the boundaries any further.

I’ll keep you posted on how it goes.