justin_guber - @ 20six.co.uk

The Reckoning

Yes. I know it's a shit song. I hate it too. Now fuck off if you don't like the title.

But yes. There is a reason why the title is such. I've just returned from the Ad Star Search, a talent competition between advertising agencies, and I have seen a truth that I can no longer shy away from.

But first, let's talk about the Star Search.

So I arrive at the Kit Kat Club at Sheraton Imperial about 7:30pm. Just came back from a meeting where I was introduced to the client for the first time and realized that we did the wrong work. Blame it on reading the brief wrongly, blame it on a wrong brief, whatever. Either way, they had a bar at the client's office, and the booze was free (which helped clear the hangover tremendously, surprisingly).

When I got there, I realized two things: number one, Grey was out in full force, taking up a large majority of the place, and number two, the MC should be hung from his balls in the town square to be raped by rabid cows.

Act after act came on, some good, some mediocore (I'm SURE I haven't spelt that right, but fuck it), then the Grey boys came on, one by one, to sing their songs, and the pop pap we'd been previously subjected to was thrown right out the window in favor of serious rock n' roll action. And THAT's when the RECKONING took place.

Eddy took to the stage. As the band began STP's Plush, he pulled off his shirt and began what later proved to be the best performance of the entire fucking night (and he's got a cheque to prove it). He strutted, he swayed, and his voice was absolutely fucking powerhouse and a half.

The music was moving the crowd. You couldn't help but notice Eddy. This man had the stage presence, the confidence and the charisma, and he had that rock voice that Triple 6 Poser really needed.

Yup. You heard me.

Let's face facts, folks. I can stay in key, but my voice is more suited to punk rock (and some of that Beastie Boys old-skool shit), and trip 6 is a rock band, straight up. Whilst starting the band and playing in it has improved my guitar playing skills (through necessity, and Jay's insistence that every osng has at least one solo), but my vocals have not improved, and it's something I can't change.

And if I wasn't singing, that would free me up to write some really crazy riffs instead of chord based songs. The band could evolve. I turned to Jay and said,

"Let's just get another drummer and make Eddy the vocalist."

He nodded with a smile. We told Eddy backstage as he was putting his mock cheque down.

The man is hesitant, though. He enjoys playing drums in trip 6, and he is the right drummer for it. But if he was at the front doing the Robert Plant whilst I was Jimmy Page-ing, that would be fucking on beyond the motherfucking lawn.

He said he'd think about it. And if he's reading this (which he may be on Monday), Eddy, you are a much better vocalist than me, as much as it's a stick in my craw to say it. You got the skills, you got the looks, you got the spirit.

After all, I'm doing more vocals in Y2k, and everytime I compare the recordings between the two I can't help but feel that my vocals suit Y2k a whole lot more than Triple 6 Poser. Plus, I've still got my little solo project that I've never had any fucking time to concentrate on, so it's all good.

Think about it.

And while you're at it, anybody out there know a good drummer?

Preferably one who's hair does not stink from having his head up his ass all the time would be great.

6.8.04 17:54

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Some random thoughts, events and social droppings

Hmmm. Tonight is the Kelab Seni Filem thingey. Should be good, I hope. Even if it doesn't win anything, should be a laugh and a half.

Actually, right now I'm suffering from a blinding headache on the right side of my brain, and it hurts like fuckery. Hence the lack of things to say.

Dad said he was proud of me over the weekend. These moments come few and far between. Was quite chuffed about that.

Sunday got to sleep in till one. Lot's of laziness that day. Subway sandwiches, DVD's and locking my keys in the fucking house.

God, my brain hurts. No more typing for now. I shall return when my follicles are erect.

9.8.04 09:03

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El Director Es Mucho Wanko

So yeah. My short was shown to the public last night, and they responded quite positively.

...

Hah. Of course I'm not gonna post a one liner in my blog. But let us begin at the beginning...

Eddy and I arrived around 7.30pm. Hunger struck, so we queued up at Mcdonalds. And then we began to think about Subway. Foot long sandwiches, packed to the brim, and guaranteed to have not been fried in pigs scrotum sweat. Sounded like a plan.

So we got to Subway, I order a BMT (like a BLT, but with no pork) and the waitress asks,

"Would you like to top up to double meat and cheese?"

"How much is that?"

"Extra seven ringgit."

"So my sub's 9.50, add another 7 to make it a footlong, then add another 7 for more meat and cheese?"

"Yes."

"...ok."

Let me remind you all that this was a once in a lifetime experience, and will not pay so extravagantly for a sandwich ever again. But, by GOD, it was GOOD.

Although, in retrospect, maybe I should've worn a looser shirt to hide my ever escalating belly.

Then the others arrive: Saiful, Jay, DeDe and Kim. Then Saiful realizes he was supposed to pick someone up. he leaves, and is saved the infuriating pain of trying to fucking find the entrance to HELP.

"Woy, idiot, you go to school here you also don't know how to get into the fucking buildling!" cried Eddy over the phone to his sister. The rest of us wandered about like lost trout.

By the time we got to the screening we made our way to the seats and, well... ok, my P.C. side has taken over and tells me to focus on the positive, so here it goes (for a more full-blown account of how things went, ask Eddy).

Yes, there were weird experimental films I just didn't get, but in between these were some pretty cool films. Special mention has to go to 'Ptuihh!', cos it was kick ass beyond compare. Two guys chilling out, talking cock, and beating up assholes. Good shit. The director seemed like a nice guy too. Should've gotten his number.

When mine came up, I realized I didn't mix the sound right. You could barely make out the narrative, but everyone was very positive about it. Some dude wanted a copy and another girl wants to get me to write a script for her. Not bad goings.

Hm. Just realized I've been over-ly PC. Fuck it. I'm not in the zone to write well right now and I smell like a motor-Mat. But my armpits smell fine. Weird.

10.8.04 05:48

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Monkey Loving

You can't go wrong with a lil' monkey luv...

10.8.04 06:27

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Some thoughts before I leave...

...the office.

Been thinking about what I should do next, film wise. Here're a couple ideas (in a vain attempt to get the four or five people who read this to stick in a fucking comment). Let me know what y'all think. And no nicking them, either! You saw them here first!

1. Five Knuckle Shuffle

Amar, a 19 year old Malay male, has been wanking since he was 12. From his early days of tit shots to double vaginal double anal gangbang orgies (which may involve sheep), he's been jacking off more than any man on the face of this planet, but he has a problem. He can no longer find anything that arouses him enough for the five knuckle shuffle, until he comes across pictures on the net of a UIA student's webcam. But soon infatuation turns to obsession... A short film (or possibly feature length, depending on how much I am titilated. Hehe. Titilate. Length. hehe).

2. VCD

Those who know me have probably seen the script. Those who don't, ask. A feature length movie following the exploits of Johan, a VCD smuggler (whose actually the son of a rich datuk) trying to get his shipment to bring to the UK on the one day the police decide to do their biggest piracy raid in history.

3. 4:20

Written this one already. Just waiting for the pre-prod team to get their shit in gear (yes, Jordan & Rauf, I'm talking to YOU!) A short film on time travel and lust.

4. Pontianak Hunter

Was thinking of doing a short film based on the intro for the feature length I wrote for this one, since I'm kinda stuck on the feature length script. Title's pretty self-explanatory.

5. Kung Fu Kid

College student Harris lives in his own world, where kung fu saves the day and gets the girl, much to the annoyance of his only friend since childhood, Yazlee. But when Yazlee makes a move on the girl Harris has his eye on and the other college kids decide to make Harris the butt of their ragging and jokes, the thin line between what is reality and what is film becomes a blur, as everyone finds out just how dangerous a kung fu geek whose been pushed to far can be.

6. Closing Time

A group of friends sit around a table in a bar, talking about other drunken moments. As the night goes on, the stories become less and less hillarious and much more painful than any of them imagined.

Comments! I need comments, you fuck-holians! BTW, if any of you guys want to help me out on any of these, let me know. I'm off to jam.

10.8.04 13:38

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The ASCII text is mightier than...

...well, a mighty thingey.

Before anything, got to give props to theshadowboxer for his comments on a whole bunch of my posts. If you're reading this, thanx dude, and if I knew how to reply to the comments properly I would. Little help, anyone? 'Cos I have to say some of the 20six functions confuse the shit out of me.

Secondly, if any of you are interested in an intense and brutally honest account of the Kelab Seni Filem Malaysian Shorts thing, check out Eddy Lim's post on it. Any of the filmmakers out there who directed anything 'experimental' may want to stay away from that site.

And of course, my neutral and politically correct stance has nothing to do with me wanting to break into the independent film scene.

Let's put it this way: I can't dig experimental film. I just can't. I like filmmaking because I like to tell stories, plain and simple, and communicating a story to the audience is, to me, the most important thing a filmmaker has to achieve.

But I know there is an audience that appreciates experimental film. I know there're people out there who dig it, who love it, would devote their entire lives to it. I just can't. It's a taste barrier, the same way some people just can't get past the bitterness of Guinness, or Marmite. It's not for everyone.

And it's definitely NOT something Eddy could dig.

In other news, I have none. All I know is this weeks a relatively easy week and I'm doing my best to savor it, via the steady consumption of websites and endless surfing on the net.

Or (much to my girlfriend's chagrin) checking out the freelancer in the chequered skirt.

See, here's the thing. I'm a sucker for chequered skirts. That whole Catholic school girl look, bastardized to hell, is enough to make me get down on my knees and beg for buttermilk. Not only is the freelancer wearing a chequered skirt, but she's also got knee length socks on.

And the skirt is red. Lord have mercy.

See, ladies, you should never underestimate the power of clothing. Sure, I like nudity as much as the next man. We can all appreciate the sensual beauty of the female form, untouched and uncovered. Or touched up to the max and covered in man juice. We're not fussy.

But certain clothes just make a man's eyes wander. To my girlfriend, you have no need to worry, I'm only looking, and you know I would do nothing more than that. Trust me. I'm a doctor.

Well, I'm not a doctor, but you can still trust me. Anyway...

Certain clothes just do it for a guy more than others. Like the red chequered skirt. There's something about it, especially when combined with a white blouse tied in the middle, knee length socks, pigtails and a lolipop that can send a man's heart racing to cardiac arrest.

Thongs do wonders too. That whole 'lo-cut jeans with the thong showing' phase rocked like a drunkman in a pub.

And nurses outfits.

Policewomen.

Nuns.

Anything worn by female superheroes.

Goth chicks.

Leather.

Mmmm.

Gee, it's getting stuffy in here.

...

I wonder if anyone's got a kleenex?

11.8.04 09:04

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Two Thumbs Fresh

So it turns out I haven't got much for this week. Hence, it's time we took a look at some of the choice trailers for upcoming movies (click on the titles to check out the site):

SAVED

A movie about Jesus freaks. Patrick Fugit plays a skater, who was the kid in Almost Famous, Macaulay's in a wheel chair, and Mandy Moore, who's been surprisingly good in her acting career, which is more than can be said for her shite pop pap, looks pretty good in this one. In every sense of the word. I'd do her.

Team America

A highly trained task force set to rid the world of terrorism. Seriously. Click on it. You MUST click on it! If I told you anything I'd ruin the hilarity of watching it first time.

Coffee & Cigarettes

Jim Jarmusch in black and white, with a host of actors and celebrities playing either themselves or other people (they couldn't do much else really), smoking cigarettes and chatting over a cup of coffee. Includes Iggy Pop, Bill Murray, Rza, Gza, White Stripes, Steve Coogan, Alfred Molina and loads more.

Batman Begins

Do I really need to say anything about this one? Click on it already!

Blade Trinity

Ok. So Blade isn't for that many people. I know Eddy doesn't dig the vampire design, him being an ex-goth and all, but it's Blade, and I strangely like the Blade movies. In the first one Stephen Dorf hadn't looked that cool since Backbeat. In Blade II, Guillemo Del Toro pumped up the action a hundred fold. Now? We've got Blade still as badass as ever, and Jesica Biel in a role that, for once, has actually managed to grab my attention, as Whistler's daughter. This shit looks goooood.

Ray

Jamie Foxx plays Ray Charles in his biopic. Sure, I don't think much of Jamie's comedy skills, but acting he's usually pretty good, and this trailer sure is that.

Eddy's also found a trailer for 'Grayson', a movie based on Dick Grayson who, as you may or may not now, used to be Robin, the boy wonder. He's downloading it now and it's over 130 Megs, zipped. Maybe it's the whole damn movie...

11.8.04 11:18

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I am not a happy bunny

Morning has broken,
Like the first morning,
Someone has spoken,
Pissed me to bits...

Heard conversations,
Burning sensations,
If you weren't family,
You'd meet with my fist...

Yes. I am not a happy bunny today. Not at all. My mood has been thoroughly shafted like a white collar tax fraud convict buggered by a large African-American inmate on Rikers Island known to some as 'the Footlong' after an overdose of viagra and bull pheromone.

I'd like to say why, and the skewed lyrics above to what is usually a very happy song (or possibly a hymn, I can't remember. The original song reminds me of church) allude to it, but I'd rather not. Not unless I know you very well and can trust your opinion. Otherwise, I assume you're only here to discover what tasty adjectives I've been using whilst describing horid and highly disturbing actions which may or may not involve gerbils. It matters not. I-am-NOT-a-happy-bunny.

Even after the wonderful conversation I had with Saj when he called me up last night (which I may indulge with you in awhile once I am calm and collected), even after the kick-ass fan films I discovered on the net (which most of you probably discovered way before I did), even after the two most dumbest briefings my self and my group head ever witnessed (which is just another opportunity to bitch) and even after getting to know the very cool theshadowboxer, I am still pissed by what happened this morning. It feels like a huge octopus of hate, stuck on my head, sucking the joy out of my brains with its suction cups.

I can feel it, surging through my body. I should be concentrating on work work work, goddamit, I've got body copy to write and interviews to prep! But with this hate, comes it's close friend depression, followed by his girlfriend, lethargy. I feel like putting on the Deftones 'White Pony' album on headphones, smoke three packs of cigarettes and shoot cows with anti-tank missiles. I feel violent.

I'm trying my best to be accomodating when people pop over. I'm trying to put on the happy face, or at least pretend the emotions on my face are the result of lethargy and a hard days night of debauchery. That, they could accept.

I remember on many occasions being accused as overly emotional.

True. Very true. But I'd like to think that as the years have gone by, and after the amount of shit that's been shat upon me by people who shat the shit on me, I had toughened up. Perhaps not enough. There are still some people whose words and actions can easily reduce me to emo-kid. I can even feel my hair combing itself over the right side of my face as I type. Soon I'll be blasting 'Taking Back Sunday' at full volume on this shitty little 6 gig iMac, typing out some of the most banal poetry in existence since the second wave of goth.

I think I'll try and do some work now. Immerse myself in the magical art of convincing you to buy shit you don't need. Hmm. That reminds me of my conversation with my dad yesterday. I had so much stuff to write about in this blog, and now all I can think about is how much of a release it would be to bring a mallet down on a porn stars cock.

The Khaiser is not well.

P.S. My cat, little whore that she is, is pregnant again. If I find the fucker that stuck it in her...

12.8.04 05:03

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The Lethargy Still Resides

The octopus is still on my brain, although when surrounded by friends, I can still smile and enjoy the moment.

But times such as this, when I'm alone facing only the computer, the octopus keeps a-sucking, an evil grin on its face.

(If you don't know what I'm talking about, refer to the last post).

the weather outside is smoggy. The mood in the office is that of a dying lung. Without bright light, the white walls look like that of a used toilet basin. When alone, I am still in a foul mood indeed.

And tomorrow I have to go for a 9.30am meeting in Shah A-fucking-lam. Considering I usually leave the house at 9.30, this will not be fun.

Grr... mornings are important to me. The events that occur the hour or two after you wake up can drastically effect you for the rest of the day. I have indeed woken up on the wrong side of the bed, and I hope and pray tomorrow won't be the same.

But enough about me. I'm sure you have better things to do with your life. Be happy, I beg you.

12.8.04 08:33

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By the power of pentium...

...I... HAVE... THE POWER!!!

So my computer's been upgraded, finally, and it is a monster of absolute power. 240 gig hard drive, one gig of ram, and a pentium IV. Sweet. I'm not usually much of a technophile, but the ability to edit a lot more video than fifteen minutes of footage is sweet like chocolate.

I also had a lot of stuff I wanted to write, but can't remember jack-shit of it. Grrr.

And it's a Friday too. Bugger.

I was just about to write something that would've been pretty kick-ass, when I was distracted by a stack of Vampirella comics. That shit is good...

Shit. What the fuck was I gonna write? I can't remember. I had inspiration, for once this week. And it's vanished. Farted out of my brain like... well, like a fart.

Was it about the conversation I had with my father? Or was it the kick-ass comic book fan films I found on the net?

Did it have something to do with my gonads?

This infuriates the shit out of me. And it's not like I can concentrate. Around me is a din of noise, as people's places are being swapped around. And I can't remember shit.

Did it have something to do with tits?

Maybe it was a review on the no-brainers I've been watching lately. Anchorman is so fucking stupid I love it to bits. Dodgeball is kinda funny too. My copy of White Chicks is fucked. I want a copy of Harold & Kumar.

Why would this budding filmmaker be watching summertime comedies? Overdose. Sheer overdose. An overdose of cinematic brilliance has burned down my retina. My brain begs for a break. I feed it with poop. It is pleased. Example? I tried watching 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind' the other day. I couldn't. It was too heavy for me. I took out the DVD and put on Mallrats instead.

Even my choice of comic books these days. I just want some pure visceral experience. If comic books and DVD's were girls, then I've been popping cheap sluts on one night stands left right and center. I've been banging sexy supermodels with less substance than an empty evian bottle in the middle of the fucking sun. Whores and harlots. No brains at all.

But you have to admit, they're fun. As highbrow as you may think you are, deep down you still remember a time when 'Weird Science' was your favorite movie ever. You too tied your sisters barbie doll to the generator and burnt down the carpet.

These little sluts will keep me occupied long enough until the next wave of oscar contenders and indie cinephiles arrive. Until then, the Anchorman licks my balls to insane heights of guilty pleasure in my seedy bedroom.

God it's fucking noisy in here. I'm so glad I don't have much to do now. Choice quotes from the surrounding area to give you an idea:

"Ma chao hai!"
"My lovely poster!"
"How am I supposed to download my porn from here?!"
"PukiPukiPukiPukiPuki..."
"Where's the jobreq?"
"Woy!"
"By 9.30 all not yet finished..."
"...but it's politically incorrect..."
"Woy, chipap!"
"...PukiPukiPukiPu..."
"This calls for... ANAL SEX!"
"Terrible..."
"How lah, wey..."
"I need the Jpeg for the print ad NOW!"
"...kiPukiPuki..."
"Where's the color sep?"
"Uh uh uh I'mComingI'mComingI'mComing..."
"Very tight... ketat, wey!"
"YA, man... massive gang bang, lah..."
"I like to fuck cows... ooh ooh ooh ahh ahh ahh... "
"If I find another FA on someone's desk..."
"Puki."

I swear, these are all real quotes. Hark, the DVD man is here. Time for smut.

13.8.04 11:15

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