Whoa! It’s Thursday already and this is my first update of the week?

My bad.

Seriously, I apologize. I realize all of you have probably called the police filing a missing persons report on my ass, so, you know, for what it’s worth it won’t happen again until the next time.

Did you see that circular logic? Did you see what I did there?

Anyway. This week has been incredibly busy at work, with me having to work eleven hour days and work through lunch and all, but you don’t want to hear about that.

Saturday, me and the key members of the crew of Marks Bros. Productions went up to Manhattan for the info session for the NYC midnight madness contest. Basically it’s a filmmaking contest where you collect your cast and crew ahead of time, without having a story.

Midnight on Labor Day weekend (Saturday) your team receives the topic and genre for your tem minute max short film. You now have two weeks to write, produce, direct, and perform all post production on your film. The winners of each heat go on to compete in the final round where this is all repeated, except now you only have 24 hours and not 2 weeks. Stressful, anyone?

Last year such topics included a documentary about a Jehovah’s Witness, and a musical about baseball. I’m not lying folks. The final round topic was a fairy tale.

So we made excellent time getting from Philly to the Holland Tunnel. Of course, we sat at a standstill for two and a half hours for some ungodly reason before we were allowed to enter the city.

We were all getting a bit punchy toward the end. I, myself, was extolling the praises of one Abbatemarco who was apparently running for Treaurer of the Carpenter’s Union, as noted by his bumper stickers plastered along the lighting posts. The genius, you see, is that the bumper stickers were vertical.

And with a name like Abbatemarco, the sticker was huge. The stickers were perfect for sign posts, and such. Not so good, however, for the bumper. Either you place it lengthwise and cause major backups from people twisting their necks to read the damn thing, or you place it orthogonal and cover up your entire rear end.

Heh. Rear end.

Anyway, I was all about Abbatemarco until we past the next post forty-five minutes later (these posts are maybe ten feet apart) and saw that Abbatemarco’s sticker was being partially obscured by a “Davis ‘96” sticker and realized that Abbatemarco’s reign was probably long over.

We made it without further incident to the info session, where we were two hours late, and missed the screening of the films. We made it for about ten minutes of questions, so that was okay.

I went up to the organizer afterwards and was talking about some random things, and happened to bring up the fact that we were stuck outside the effing city for two and a half hours and thankfully, he secretly handed over a promo copy of the films.

So now, thanks to the traffic, we can analyze each past winner in excruciating detail, something the other teams cannot do!

Woo hoo!

Oh, as a bonus, it seems we invented a derogatory name for persons of Indian descent. Not the “woo woo” kind. The India Indians, people. Focus.

We were driving down I-95 and passed a car with a small shrine in the back window. The best way to describe this shrine is that it had two egg shaped thingies in the middle of it. They sort of looked like grenades, I guess.

Anyway, Kirk says to me as I’m driving, “What’s with the egg bombs in the backseat?”

Chip, who couldn’t see the shrine said, “Are you talking about the Indians? That’s not nice.”

We explained about the shrine.

I started laughing so hard, I almost had to pull off the road to stop from killing all of us.

So now, feel free to use Egg Bomb. I’m not promoting racism of any kind. Apply it to whatever you want. I just like that other people will have no idea what you’re talking about.

That, and it makes no sense, whatsoever.

READ THESE JOURNALS Uncle Bob SaraH

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