I rarely get colds, but when I do I go nuts. I get depressed. I don't like anything. I just want to be left alone but don't want to stay home. I should never go shopping or reading or do any writing when I'm hacking and rubbing myself with Vicks and downing OJ like it's water. Right now I feel like I slosh as I walk from all the fluids in me, and I know it made a merely bad meal into the worst of my life. Now my pants fit tighter around the waist, I have to pee like every five minutes, and I will never go back to PF Chang's.
Something else it does is bring me crazy ideas and contemplations mixed with a touch of anger and a lot of attitude. Like...what if I worked How To Rape A Straight Guy into a screenplay? And took it to a porn house for funding? Someplace like Cocky Boys or Sean Cody or HotHouse or Bondage Gods? It only has a few locations -- a bar, a condo & garage in WeHo, city streets, Curt's apartment, and a jail. It could done cheap. Keep in the graphic sex for the producers, but make it a serious movie about a man destroying himself, even as he's sure he's doing the opposite.
It would mean using porn actors, for most of the male roles...but there are some who can act. Colby Keller (the guy in the photo), for instance. Connor Habib. Paul Wagner. Kyle King. Question is, would Colby shave off his beard?
Make 2 editions -- one for an R rating; one for the XXX crowd. It would be a giant F You to the cowardice and amazing stupidity of the film industry, in general.
I think this came on strong because I read Joseph Fiennes was cast to play Michael Jackson in the British road film about a trip he, Marlon Brando and Elizabeth Taylor supposedly took after 9/11 in an attempt to get to LA from NY. That bit of absurdity smacked me into WTF land, totally.
Seriously, if a middle-aged Welshman who obviously does have a set of balls can play a younger African-American singer who was probably gelded as a child, and who desperately was trying to be white, why can't I make a literary porn movie?
Something else it does is bring me crazy ideas and contemplations mixed with a touch of anger and a lot of attitude. Like...what if I worked How To Rape A Straight Guy into a screenplay? And took it to a porn house for funding? Someplace like Cocky Boys or Sean Cody or HotHouse or Bondage Gods? It only has a few locations -- a bar, a condo & garage in WeHo, city streets, Curt's apartment, and a jail. It could done cheap. Keep in the graphic sex for the producers, but make it a serious movie about a man destroying himself, even as he's sure he's doing the opposite.
Make 2 editions -- one for an R rating; one for the XXX crowd. It would be a giant F You to the cowardice and amazing stupidity of the film industry, in general.
I think this came on strong because I read Joseph Fiennes was cast to play Michael Jackson in the British road film about a trip he, Marlon Brando and Elizabeth Taylor supposedly took after 9/11 in an attempt to get to LA from NY. That bit of absurdity smacked me into WTF land, totally.
Seriously, if a middle-aged Welshman who obviously does have a set of balls can play a younger African-American singer who was probably gelded as a child, and who desperately was trying to be white, why can't I make a literary porn movie?
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