Those Are My Words, But That's Not My Voice...

The observant amongst you have no doubt noticed the wonderful little widget I have installed on my blog - Odiogo.

Odiogo takes the written word and translates it into speech that you can hear either on my blog itself, or via downloading this blog from Itunes. I got the idea after seeing it used over at Kung Fu Monkey, and it's one of those widgets that's fun to play with...

For those of you curious as to how my whiskey-soaked voice really sounds, I would suggest that you head over to Geekerati tonight at 7 pm...

OR -

You could join us this Friday night at Boardner's at 7pm for a pulp meet-and-greet. Friends of the mad pulp bastard who will be attending include James Felix McKenney of AUTOMATONS fame and BLOOD TIES producer Peter Mohan.

So here's your best opportunities in the near future to hear me rant and rave. I am working hard on a script treatment and a dozen or so other things that I feel need doing.

For What it Cost to Produce and Market 2 Studio Movies...

I would have made 50.

Seriously. Read why the big theatrical game has a huge downside and why you won't see a new Narnia movie from Disney.

This story has a little bit of everything - extortion, greed, religious fervor, indulgence, politics... you can't make this sh*t up. All it needs now is a couple of dead hookers and a patsy to take the fall.

So I Had a Terrifying Night Last Night...

After a long hard day of arguing with a distributor as to why they had to pay for services rendered and they couldn't skip out on paying the bill (because seriously, they would all do that if you let them), I got off the subway and walked home only to find out:

This happened.

About four doors down the street from my apartment.

Yeah.

So after speaking with the police officers on duty at the lines cordoning off the area, I discovered I wouldn't be able to get in to my home until around 10pm.

Nice.

Icing on the cake. No pun intended.

So, I ran over to my least favorite coffee establishment and sat down to do some work on the laptop. I wrote for awhile... Chatted with Shawna for awhile...Drank some coffee...

But underneath it all was this dread. This cold, dark monster perched just off my shoulder whispering into my ear about that poor 15-yr. old girl who discovered the bodies of her family by just coming home after school.

You want horror? That's horror. And we heap it on one another as if it were nothing.