The Chris Miss Eve

I’ve told a lot of stories over the past few months.  Stories from childhood, the high school days, working on movies, and many more.  Thought being that it’s July and all, I’d share a Christmas story for my friends that live in the southern hemisphere.   Get you in the holiday spirit.

The story is called “The Chris Miss Eve.”  It’s  a story about a young boy’s uncontainable joy and anticipation for the most exciting day of the year.   That most exciting day being Christmas of course.

I wrote and illustrated The Chris Miss Eve when I was just five years old.  It’s the very first story that I’ve ever written.   My mother saved the story after all these years.  However, there was one page that was ripped and torn, so I took the liberty to revise the page a little.  I hope you enjoy.

HA!  Got you, you dimwit dingalings!  Well, maybe some of you new ones anyway.

It is a sweet story though, and it really is a story that I wrote back when I was five.  Too bad I made a mess of it with the revised page and all.  Just thought it could use a little polish.

I’ve always enjoyed kids’ artwork and stories.  The misspelling of words, the crazy disproportions, and the brilliant colors.  I love how kids draw scribbly, crooked lines all over the place.  Wild and free.  And then, well, somewhere in life someone comes along and insists that you have to draw within the lines.  They tell you that colors should be colored a certain way for it to look right.  You can’t draw a person with purple skin and give them green hair for god’s sake!  So this is the Dimwit’s twisted way of encouraging you to draw outside the lines, choose whatever colors you like best, and never mind what you’ve been told in life, unless what you’ve been told has been something wonderful.

Boi oh boi.  Sorry to pull a fast one on you.  Merry Chris Miss to all, and to all a goodnight.

Chris Hinton’s Pathway To Success

Ahhhhh, I’m so pumped right now!  I just got a call an hour ago for work.  This is incredibly exciting news.  I can’t even begin to tell you why, but I’m going to try anyhow.

I don’t know many of the details about the project just yet.  I just know it’s a TV pilot of some sort and I have to read the script and begin preparing for work tonight.  I’ll be working on the project the next three days and possibly the next few weeks and beyond.  That’s how it goes in the film industry.  One minute you’re busy writing and creating a blog, avoiding friends and social obligations to focus all your energies into doing something that you really love, and the next minute you get a call at 6:30 PM on a Friday evening.

“What are you doing this weekend?  How about the next few months?  You busy, or you wanna start scouting tomorrow on a TV pilot?”

Hell yeah, I wanna start scouting tomorrow on a TV pilot!  If you dimwits only knew how challenging the past few months have been for me.  I’ve been out of work for a long time.  Without boring you with all the details, the state of Pennsylvania had a major snafu with our film tax incentive this year, which meant that me and a lot of my friends were without work.  No work means funds dwindle quickly, bills go unpaid, and you eat lots of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for breakfast, lunch and dinner.  And worse yet, it leaves you with no money to drink booze.  Being broke sucks a fat one.

Boo hoo, you putz.  Get another job.  But it’s not that easy, and I didn’t want to get another job making $7 an hour.  It’s a waste of time.  I realize some people have to do it to support their families, which kudos to them, but I don’t have a family to support, so I’d rather have my bills go unpaid than work at a crummy job taking home $200 a week.  Instead of working at a job for slave wages, I used the opportunity to do some writing and maybe begin establishing my future.

The film industry is a great gig, but it’s too unpredictable.  One year you make great money, and the next year you make jack crap.  I’m terrible at budgeting money, so this year I ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, holed myself up in my apartment, and wrote my ass off the past few months trying to establish a future for the next time I’m out of work.

I don’t know where any of it’s headed.  Maybe there isn’t a future in writing for me, but I have to find out.  So that’s why I started this blog.  To practice writing, to put my creative talents to work, and to build up a network of fellow writers, artists, and creative spirits.

It seems to be going well so far.  I’ve gotten nearly 2,000 followers in two months, and the  feedback has been very kind.  It gives me encouragement to keep writing, so I just wanted to say thanks.  The peanut butter and jelly sandwiches taste extra good after hearing things like, “This is my new favorite blog.”  “You’re really hilarious!”  “OMG, I want to totally marry you and have six of your curly headed babies.”

Well, all right.  This has been a very good day.  It’s maybe premature, but I’m going to use my credit card to go buy some whiskey tonight, and read through a script until 3 in the morning, make some notes, wake up 3 hours later, and go to work.  I might not be available to reply to comments as much in the next few weeks, but I’ll try my best, because your comments are what kept me going these past few months.  It might sound like BS, but it’s true.  So keep commenting if you’d like, but don’t take offense if I don’t respond for a while.  It just means I’m busy with work, or drunk on whiskey, dancing around my apartment naked at 2 AM, which happens more than I’d like to admit.

Anyway, since you guys have been so cool to me, I wanted to leave you with my keys for a pathway to success.  I realize someone who just spent the past few months eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches probably isn’t the best spokesperson for success, but I can feel it just around the bend.  I think I’m a few years away from accomplishing some big things, so I’m going to let you in on my secrets so you can achieve success as well.

It’s time to go buy some whiskey and read a script.  I’ll leave you with Chris Hinton’s Pathway To Success.  Print it out, hang it on your fridge.  Look at it everyday.  Cheers, you dimwits.  Thanks for being awesome.  

Ten Famous Autocorrected Quotes – Volume Two

Suppose a young man with a wild imagination and too much time on his hands went to a greasy spoon diner one evening at 3 AM.   Suppose the same young man grew tired of all the belligerent drunks and lot lizards that usually frequent a greasy spoon diner late at night, so he began to surf the interwebs on his smart phone to occupy his time until his gyro omelette and rye toast were ready to be served.

Suppose that while killing time surfing the interwebs, the young man came across some famous quotes and later stumbled upon the humorous website, Damn You Autocorrect.  Now suppose the imaginative young man with too much time on his hands got to thinking:

“What if all the famous authors, poets, artists, philosophers, and great leaders of history had to use a smart phone to type their inspiring quotes?  Would their quotes sound any less smart?  Would they be any less inspiring?  What would the quotes read like if these great historical figures had to put down their pen and paper, and use the same means of communication that we use today – texting, tweeting, emailing, and other forms of social media?  What if the famous quotes were subject to autocorrect?”

Suppose the young man’s thoughts were to materialize.  I suppose you would get something like this.  Ten famous quotes given the autocorrect treatment, volume two.

Guest Blogger – The Baha Men

So by now, you regular dimwits know that I work in the film industry.  I’ve downplayed it in previous posts, but it’s actually a pretty cool gig.   I’ve been at it for about 12 years now, and I’ve had the fortune of working on two films with Anne Hathaway, or Annie Spagannie as I like to call her, and well, of course we became instant best friends.

We chat back and forth from time to time, send drunk texts to each other at 3 AM, those  sorts of things that best friends do.  Well, Annie Spagannie has been following along on my blog when she’s not too busy making films.  She had a chance to read the last guest blogger post where John Stamos wrote a brave and chilling letter to the Baha Men (which I would suggest you read first if you haven’t already), and being the huge Baha Men super fan that she is, she was able to help get me in touch with the nice fellas.

So I’d like to thank the Baha Men for being kind enough to be this week’s guest blogger and offering up their response letter to John Stamos.  It’s an insightful read as one would expect, and I think you’ll get a lot out of it.  I know I did.  Thanks the Baha Men.

Yo Stamos!  Woof, Woof, Woof!

Yo we got your letter dawg (no pun intended.)   Hey listen man, that was an incredibly cool thing of you to do.   It takes a lot of guts to tell someone you killed two of their dawgs, even if it did come 12 years late.  I just gotta believe they up there somewhere in a better place, right?  Isn’t that how this whole thing works?  Pepper Spray and Mace, snatchin’ tennis balls outta the air, havin’ a damn good time rolling around up there in them puffy clouds.  Probably nailin’ them female dawgs too, if I know those two hound dawgs!  WOOF!

Sorry it took so long to get back to you, but we was back in the studio making some more of those fresh and funky junkanoo beats.  Our schedules have been mad crazy right now.    But it will all be worth it in just a little while.  We hopin’ anyways.   The Baha Men can’t wait to blow the lid off the new stuff.  They thought the dawgs was wild – wait till they get a hold of these beats.  It’s gonna’ blow some minds!  And probaby a few stereos too, cause I’m tellin’ you, this shit is dope.

Back to the killing our dawgs thing – man, no hard feelings.  We actually knew it was you all along.  Sally ratted you out.  Sombody at the party overheard somebody who said you was hammered and goin’ on about a master plan for juicy steaks, and plottin’ revenge on us for not being able to play your birthday party, or somethin like that.  Then that somebody told Sally who told our drummer Jimbo Slice.  You know how it goes.  Poeple like to yap their traps when it ain’t nobody’s business really.

And well, we was disappointed to hear you done it, no doubt.  We always seen you on Full House, and even though you was a badass biker, you seemed to have a good heart.  I know it’s just TV, and it was all acting and stuff, but still, you can tell alot about people form their smile, the way their eyes look or don’t look, and just the way they carry themselves.  You can’t act that Stamos.  We knew you was a good guy.

It’s just you was in a bad place, that’s all.  Ain’t we all sometimes.  Life can knock you silly but unlike you, it don’t have the decency to say sorry.  It don’t care none if you’re Bob, or Jim, or if you’re the famous actor John Stamos.  Everyone gets the rug taken out from underneath them at some point, and I guess it was just me, you, and Sally Jessy Raphael’s turn at the time.  Just gotta get back up, put the rug back into place.   Like Eminem says, you only get one shot.  Might as well make it a good one.

We gotta tell you this one last thing before we get back to the studio.  You was actually the inspiration behind the idea for “Who Let The Dogs Out?”  We didn’t wanna’ tell no one it was John Stamos,  cause we collectively felt it was more mysterious just letting it alone.  The mystery paid off.  We still collectin’ those checks off that song 12 years later, so let’s leave it at this Stamos.  Let’s get together sometime, crack some bubbly and we won’t never mention none of this ever again.  Clean slate.  Whad’ya say?

Hope you’re good John, and sorry to hear when things got ugly with you and Rebecca, and the whole split and all of that stuff.  Just another one of those things, another one of those twists and turns in life.  Grab the wheel, hold on, don’t never take your foot off the gas.  Keep on driving Stamos.  Take that shot.

Your dawgs forever,

The Baha Men

PS.  Thanks for the PF Changs gift certificate!  I got the Shaking Beef and Jimbo got the Crispy Honey Shrimp.  It was mad dope!  Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof!!!

Photoshop Lessons – How to Photoshop Yourself In a Pop Up Tent With A Ferocious Wolf

Well, I don’t know about you dimwits, but I like wolves.  Always have.  In elementary school, the teachers were always going around asking questions like, “What’s your favorite color?” I’d shrug my shoulders.  I don’t know, “Blue.”  “Whad’ya wanna to be when you grow up?”  Once again a shrug.  Never gave it much thought, being that I was 8 1/2 years old and all.   So I’d say, “A school teacher so one day I can ask awesome questions just like you.”   And then the teachers would finally get around to asking the real gritty, meaty questions.  “What’s your favorite animal?”  Without hesitation, I would confidently respond, “Wolf.”

So as you can see, ever since I was a little kid I always liked wolves.

Today’s Photoshop lesson, I will be teaching you how to Photoshop yourself in a pop up tent with a ferocious wolf.  I know what you’re probably saying to yourself, “Man, that’s impossobile.  I can never learn to Photoshop myself in a pop up tent with a ferocious wolf.”  Wrong.  You just gotta believe, and with the aid of this tutorial, you’ll be off and howling in no time.  To the moon we go.

Step 1:  Put On Some Bon Jovi “Slippery When Wet”

Whenever I’m Photoshopping myself in pop up tents with ferocious wolves, it’s all about setting the right mood.  The sound of rainforest and pan flutes are always a nice background music to work with,  but it’s not quite wolfy enough for this lesson.  We need something that howls.  Something that screams and gets the blood pumping a little.  I’m talking Bon Jovi “Slippery When Wet” circa 1986, ladies and gentlemen.  Let’s get wild in the streets, shall we?  We definitely shall.

Step 2:  Lasso The Head Of A Smoking Hot Blond

Above is the original, untouched photo that I’ll be working with for this tutorial.  As you can see, it’s me in the women’s changing room pop up tent with a smoking hot blond. While I have nothing against poking my head out of a pop up tent with a smoking hot blond, for this demonstration, we will be replacing her smiling face with a ferocious wolf.

If you’ve had a chance to read the sparkly vampire Twilight poster tutorial, then you’re aware that not only do I have a fondness for wolves, but I also have a deep appreciation for magnets.  So crank up some Jovi, whip your hair around like your all time favorite glam rocker, loosen up those neck muscles a bit, give a couple monster leg kicks, another hair whip or two, take a swig of water to stay hydrated, and go to the upper, left hand corner to select the Magnetic Lasso Tool, in that specific order.

Once you’ve selected the Magnetic Lasso Tool, you’ll want to trace an outline of the area you want to remove.  Carefully make your selection of the smoking hot blond, then hit the delete button.  Boom shakalacka.  The smoking hot blond is no more and you should end up with a layer that looks like so.

Hey, what the shit Jon Bon Jovi?  Well, sorry about that Photoshoppers.  Seems there’s a little cockblocking going on here, and somebody is having a little difficulty letting go of their glorious, glamorous, hair thrashing past.  Sorry Jon Bon Jovi, but you and your 7 foot tall, hair sprayed, lion’s mane need to go.  We have some more wolfing to do.

Step 3:  Let’s Go Hunting For A Ferocious Wolf

So first things first.  We need a ferocious wolf.  I know just the place to go find one.  Do a Google search for “Ferocious Wolf” and select an image you like.  The more ferocious the better.  I would suggest choosing the wolf showing the most teeth to get the most of that ferocious look.  Here is the photo of the ferocious wolf that I have selected to use.

Step 4:  Lassoing The Head Of A Ferocious Wolf

Similar to how I lassoed the head of the smoking hot blond, I will be lassoing the head of the ferocious wolf.  Crank that mutha’ up about 10 decibles, give another whip of the hair, show that GD wolf who’s boss, and select the Magnetic Lasso Tool from the upper, left hand corner once again.

Carefully trace around the ferocious wolf head, and make a new isolated layer.  And no, Jon Bon Jovi, you’re not invited to the wolf head party.  You and your tight, leather pants and unbuttoned shirt need to stuff it somewhere in New Jersey.   Preferably in the bowels of the sewers of New Jersey, which shouldn’t be too hard to find since the entire state is a sewer.  No offense to anyone that lives in New Jersey.

Your ferocious wolf head isolated layer should look like something like this.

Step 4:  Blend The Ferocious Wolf Head In A Pop Up Tent

I’ll keep this brief.  Slippery When Wet clocks in at a mere 42:22, so we don’t have a whole lot of time for goofing.  Not when we’ve got some wolfing to do, so let’s finish this sonofabitch up.  So now that we got rid of the smoking hot blond, and have an isolated layer of the ferocious wolf head, it’s time to blend the two images.

And man, honest to God, these next 100 steps are so incredibly, freaking boring, and it’s probably the whole reason that I never went to my graphic design classes in college in the first place.  I”m just.  Do you ever regret things in your past?  Like, sit around and ever wonder how things would be any different today if you had made just a few different choices when you were younger?  If you would be living in a different state?  A different country, even?  Have a different career?  Maybe be with someone different, somebody at all?  If those few different choices would’ve made you wealthier, more successful? Happier?

Christ, Bon Jovi is giving me a pounding headache, so I’m gonna skip about the next 12 steps if that’s cool with you dimwits.   I knew I should’ve gone with White Snake, but it’s too late for that now.  We’re committed, so let’s wrap this up and send Jovi home packing.

So basically, I did some more lassoing, and traced the pop up tent so I could make a new layer, I added in a few slash marks to the pop up tent cause I thought it looked pretty cool and more ferocious, I added a layer mask and…

You know what.  I can’t even do it.  I can’t even pretend anymore.  Photoshop sucks the will to live right outta me.  Leaves me shriveled, dying, and makes me feel a little less of a human being every time I click on that smug looking PS logo.  Every time I see that bouncy ball opening up the program as if he’s excited, and knows that with each and every bounce, a little more of me dies inside.   I’m smashing this stereo.  Bon Jovi is really grinding my nerves.  Here’s your photo of the cockblocking, cock knocker Jon Bon Jovi, you dimwits.

Welp, there you go.  Congratulations on making yourself in a pop up tent with a ferocious wolf.  Hope it was as wonderful of an experience as it was for me.  Join me next lesson as I teach you how to Photoshop Jon Bon Jovi’s Olivia Newtwon-John  looking hair into the bowels of the sewers of New Jersey.  Time for me to go howl at the moon with about a gallon of Jim Beam and a case of Milwalkees Best.