Bier de Stone (blanketsin.com) wrote,
Bier de Stone
blanketsin.com

Back to (film) school? But it's only 4am.

I'm listening to a screenwriting seminar. It is called Screenwriting for Hollywood, and I'm feeling optimistic about it. I mean, it's not so much the writer's block I'm battling, now it seems I'm wearing leather rings on my middle finger as well as my thumb. Scripting is not only zombie forming, it's also painful. There's nothing I can do about the arthritic symptoms. You can look at some pictures dating back to November 30, 2005 to see what I believe these aches and pains are attributed to, but don't ask my HMO doctor, or the workmen's comp quack that stitched me up. They're the type of characters who would approach the symptom like this.
DOCTOR
So, tell me again why you have come to see me.

BIER
Well, Doctor. My thumb hurts when I do this

DOCTOR
Then don't do that anymore


Last nights dream

I parked my car one block away from home because I just couldn't find parking, or I didn't want the neighbors to think I was home. As I was getting out of the car, I saw an old smoking buddy from bygone days. I asked him about his ol` smoking hobby of mixing tapes and he was responding to my inquiries as though he was high as a kite. And he was. So much so, that he felt kind of charitable to practically give away an ounce of pot in a plastic bag. We walked toward my place while he taunted me with the bag of buds. As we approached the front door, the landlords walked into the room and he quickly stashed the goods in the stereo system and made his exit.

Don't ask me how I got to work, but you know how dreams are… suddenly a man with a gun appears. I find myself running into the other room as he takes a few shots. I was like Neo in my efforts to dodge a bullet. Not. I head for the back door, but then decide it would be the first place this gunman will go to cut me off. So I decide to grab my keys and head for the roof, when I discover that the door lock accessing the room with the trap door to the roof has been changed and I'm deader than fuck. I wake up and decide to do the laundry.

I thought it would be cute to have a scene like the one walking toward my house with a bag of marijuana. I recall a show I just recently saw on cable in which people are smoking pot and gradually getting higher and higher. It was the funniest scene I've ever seen since Cheech & Chong. Anyway, this is just one of the things I'll be working on today because the roof scene I had started out with was really dull and pointless to the rest of the story. I have a really good part for graffiti artists, and I'm developing the commercial properties to my film with the help of google maps which I'm sure everyone knows and loves. Who doesn't want to pretend they're god by looking down at the earth at all the tiny little specs of life.

Tags: dialog, screenwriting
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