Thursday, May 28, 2009

MORE FROM SANSO


Many unique and special greetings to you all again from the Christmas village I'm hostage in! So much has happened to occur and it needs to be shared with persons identical to YOU!

In my pleadings for things for the movie, many of you have heard! I lick you repeatedly! 

Many things are available to share! Takineko with words typed she can give the needingly required cookers! Yes, and I will take them. She also is having 3 live hams and the 1 fake live ham! She says they are metaphorical. I don't know that breed, but all live hams are a bounty to my needs!

Fenwick Wilnern is having the paintings of the live hams! Thank you and welcome!

Troy has an ax! This will be handy for the scene of the murder when the creature falls and then a small chase goes on for a while! An ax is needed for this!

Keeper has a person! I will value that with my life!

So, we get closer to the reality of the movie. I hope more people let me know what they are having!

And now, for words about the story.

It is called, "Who Will Cry For Wendle?" In it, the boy of Wendle finds he is encamped in an area he never knew existed. (In his mind, or not. We will find out later that it is not what we had imagined.)

As he carries on in this amazing area, many difficulties come to fall upon him. (Which is why I need the living bear with non-biting action.)

From the corner of the areas, though, are where we are given to experience the larger of the difficulties! Oh, much larger!

A man ( the person who I need who Keeper has) will try his best to confusalate Wendle with various treacheries! 

But from another area comes the space ship with the angel who will mediate his conflicts. Or, is this just another trick? Because the angel is also in possession of four live hams. One is immediately struck by a bear and made non-living. (Which is why I need one fake live ham because I don't want to kill a live ham...even though it would be good for eating.)

From there, many other things happen. There are tree people (twigs), falling dangers from the sky (macaroni) and many mystical things.

We are close to making this!

May a Llama provide you with its butter!

Sanso

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Sanso Pontapuntaquenia - Guest Blog

Felicitations, as well as words, which, when formed properly in your mouth, make the sound of "hello."

My name is Sanso Pontapuntaquenia. I am a director from Chile. 

Perhaps some of you may know me because I was the director of the Sam Plenty shows. Since that time, however, I run drippingly out of money and have been an elf at a Christmas village in Naptha, Idaho.

It is my hopes and wants to leave this elf job and return to Hollywood to make more films. I have saved much monies for this to come to be a realism. The owner of the Christmas village, Bill Huldonmuir, says he will give me the rest of my money after the busy summer season. I tell him, okay, but I need to be in Hollywood by July to start my new movie. He says okay to me. But he wants to make sure I am promising to be an elf for June. This is when families on trips come by to see many of us fake elves frolic like elves. (By the way, they are looking for a Santa in case any of you are in need of monies. The other Santa got bit by a deer and they had to amputate him.)

And this, great people, is why I have, with words, asked Paul Rugg to help disperse my message to you for hearing and reading.

I want to start filming my new movie as soon as I return from being a fake elf. I am looking for actors with male and female abilities. I am looking for crew peoples. I also need

1. A camera with motion abilities.
2. Film enough for a movie to be used in the camera with motion abilities.
3. Sound devices.
4. Cords for the hooking up of devices of all sorts.
5. A writer for the idea I have.
6. Cookers of food for feeding many of us.
7. Places to do all of this.
8. Outdoor rain and snow.
9. A tame bear with non-biting action.
10. 9 trained Llamas with clipped hind-ends.
11. Monkeys of various sizes. (Not all have to be living.)
12. Pixie sticks with sand candy inside for the giving out to actors who are doing well.
13. Felt. I would like black, but blue, red and green will be helpful to my needs.
14. Chairs for sitting to have conversations.
15. Un-cooked elbow macaroni for special effects and set building.
16. Monster costumes with nuclear burns because this is important.
17. A lazy cat who can jump in a comical way.
18. A moon man who is important.
19. Cix cups of brown sugar. (Tightly packed.)
20. A person.
21. Space ship which can grow to great sizes because of it's magical abilities.
22. 3 live hams.
23. 1 fake live ham.
24. A large painting of 6 live hams. If this has a puppy in it that would be okay. But no trees.
25. Sticks of many sizes but not too big.
26. A wedding spool.
27. 2 ceremonial cords of uneven lengths.
28. Someone who used to be a mechanic but is no longer because of various difficulties.
29. 5 gallons of white out. (For the macaroni.)
30. Various shapes.

Paul has made with agreement to let me communicate with you in the approaching weeks to let you know of my needs for the movie. I shall be doing more of this!

If you have anything of my needs, please and Paul to know of it.

May a Lamma kiss the small of your back.

Sanso.

Friday, May 22, 2009

The Awful Thing About Hate

So, not sure you heard about this or not, but a few days ago this one guy murdered another guy.

I know. Awful, right? But, what makes this murder even more awful is that the guy that killed the other guy hated him. Yep. I know. So, not only is he being charged with murder, but they're adding a hate crime on top of that...which is really, really bad. The guy is gonna go to jail for like, I dunno, the rest of his life. (Plus probably more.)

Now, I'm not a lawyer or anything but I do have a lot in my family. S0, I just want to make sure you all know that if you were planning on murdering someone, make sure you like them...or, at the very least feel somewhat indifferent to them. This way, if you do get caught, there will be a little wiggle room when it comes time for your sentencing. Under no circumstances are you to hate your victim at the time of the murder. If you do, they're gonna throw the book at you.

So, I think it's wise to follow this general rule when contemplating murder: (I've put it in a little poem to make it easier to remember.)

"If you HATE, hesitate and wait!
 If you LIKE, feel free to strike!"

Knowing when murder is marginally acceptable will make things easier for all of us. 

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Successful Sprinkler Repair!

A big shout out to my buddies in Houston for getting me through my garden sprinkler problems. The gardeners I hired to do the job left without finishing.

But, I knew help was only a satellite relay away!
video

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Friday, May 15, 2009

QUADRAPHONIC SNAKES

I'll explain. Stay with me.

When I was a kid, my father used to love to order things through the mail. All kinds of things. Shoes. Radios. Cheese. I don't think he wanted the stuff so much, it was just fun to get home from work and find a box waiting at the door.

As a young lad, I followed in my father's footsteps and ordered everything I could from the back of 'Boys Life' magazine. I got a real Flying UFO for $2.99. It was a balloon with a plastic base. It didn't look exactly like the picture in the magazine and broke after 15 minutes, but it was still cool. Getting things in the mail was fun.

One day when I got home from school, there was an enormous box by the front door. It was addressed to my father. When my mother called him at work to tell him about the package, he forbid any of us from opening it until he got home. See, opening the box is half the fun. 

We waited for hours for him to come home. When he finally arrived, we all brought the box into the family room. My father poured himself his nightly Scotch, got on the floor with a knife and carefully opened the box. He took his time. It was excruciating.

What came out of the box confused everyone but my father. It was a Quadraphonic Stereo System.

We all looked at him. "A what?"

We were confused for very good reason. My father was strictly a transistor radio guy. We had a 13 inch black and white television with a broken antenna. My father had stuck a wire coat hanger in the antenna opening so we could get 3, fuzzy channels. It had been that way for years. The word stereo had never been uttered in our decidedly low-tech household.

In a stunning move, my father had jumped entire over the stereo and into the newest, high-tech wonder of the age - Quadraphonics. 

Inside the box was a Teledyne Packard Bell Quadraphonic Music System. It had an 8 track and a turntable. It had four speakers. That's the quadraphonic part.

It took a couple of hours to set it up and we all ate a very rushed dinner in order to finish the job. But at last, it was done. 

My father had precisely followed the very specific instructions on speaker placement. Now, it was time to try it out. He read the pamphlet that came with the system to us out loud. Seems the Ruggs were about to be amazed. We were (so the pamphlet boasted) about to experience the greatest achievement in stereo technology. The Quadraphonic system would "put us in the middle of the music!" With the speakers positioned in the four corners of the room, we were about to experience...double stereo. Or something. But whatever it was, we were about to be blown away.

My father quickly grabbed one of our old records and put it on. It was a Johnny Mathis album. It was in mono.

We all stood in the center of the room. Chances Are began playing. We looked at one another. We didn't know what to expect but we all agreed we could hear Johnny singing from every corner of the room. I remember my Mother saying something like, "My goodness. I can hear Johnny over there and there and there and....and there!"

We all tried to convince ourselves that this was amazing. As a child, I was always prone to make things out to be better than they were. I said something like, "It's like Johnny Mathis is all around us!"

My father looked at me. "Yes! No matter where I turn, I can hear him!"

And then, almost immediately, my father scrunched his face. "Maybe I didn't hook it up right."

It was close to midnight. My mother marched us off to bed as my father spent the next 4 hours redoing the wires. All that night I could hear Johnny Mathis singing while my father grunted angrily.

The next morning, my exhausted father said he had figured out the problem. All the records we had were in mono. We needed the new quadraphonic albums. He told my mother to go to the store to get some of those.

After school my mother drove us to JC PENNEY to buy quadraphonic albums. My mother tried to explain to the clerk that we needed one of those new albums for four speakers. He stared at her like she was insane. When she finally said, "Quadra....something or other," he smiled.

He took us to their new Quadraphonic area. It had one album. The album was synthesized snake sounds. We didn't know what that meant, but we bought it and took it home.

When my father got home from work we all ran into the family room, stood in the middle of the room and listened as my father put the album on. Johnny Mathis in mono is far better than quadraphonic snake sounds. But we all tried to pretend we were impressed.

My mother looked at my father and said, "Well...I hear a rattle over there. And...a...some sort of slithering over there. And...there's a hiss behind me. Oh, that's amazing."

For the next few months we would drop by JC Penney to see what new Quadraphonic albums they had. Whatever it was, we bought it. We'd all stand in the middle of the room and listen.

And while we never blew our minds, we blew a lot of my dad's money.

He would have loved the iPhone.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

20 Years, Ladies and Gentlemen!

Today my wife and I celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary.

Seems like it was just yesterday. (Although, I'm glad it's not because we couldn't afford imitation butter. Or food. Or clothes. Or gas. However, there always seemed to be enough money for my cigarettes. No. I don't smoke anymore. Relax.)

20 years has gone by incredibly fast. Too fast. 

And here we are.

Thank you, darling wife.

Here's to 20 more. 

Monday, May 11, 2009

Hello. I'm Paul and My Face Is Melting



Flying into Phoenix between May and September, you can get a brief idea of what the neutron bomb would have done; leave the buildings - get rid of the people.

Only when you land do you see there actually are lots of people. They're just all inside in air conditioned comfort. They're all inside because it's hot. Really hot. Super hot.

When you check into the Hilton in Scottsdale, they give you a complimentary bottle of water. They do this for two reasons.  1. It's a sort of reward for not dying during the 12 mile journey from the airport in the middle of the afternoon. 2. They give you the water so you won't die before you check in and cause them the aggravation of carting your dead carcass away before you've spent any money.

During the winter months, the 2 bedroom hotel room we stayed in usually costs 1000 dollars a night. Yet, between May and September, it's 50 cents.

Don't get me wrong, I love Scottsdale. It's beautiful in a deserty sort of way. But when it's hot, it'll whomp your butt.

On Saturday we attended my Nephew's wedding. It was my second outdoor wedding in the Phoenix area. Two thoughts raced through my mind as the beautiful couple exchanged their vows. The first was this: "Boy, what a great couple. They sure love each other." My second thought was: "My face is melting." 

When the couple kissed as newly married man and wife, I cried. I cried because it was a beautiful moment. I also cried because my nose had fallen off my face and was now next to my shoe. 

Desert heat is a heat all its own. Call it dry. Call it whatever you like. It's hot.

A few hours before the wedding my wife said she couldn't find the aspirin she had brought. Being a loving husband, I went to go get her some. There was a shopping center across the street from the hotel so I decided to walk. Now, I've walked before. You put one foot in front of the other and move. I know how. 

The shopping center was less than 1000 feet away. If that. But about 200 feet into my walk I noticed I was the only human being walking. As I crossed the street I noticed people in their cars staring at me and pointing. I heard a little girl say, "Mommy, is that man going to die?"

Now streets in Scottsdale are incredibly wide. I don't know why. But they are. Driving at 60mph it takes at least 3 days to cross a typical street. So walking is a bit of a challenge.

Half way through the intersection I wondered why the hell my wife needed aspirin anyway. My legs were mushy. I was thirsty. I was mushy and thirsty and started batting at imaginary spiders. These are the classic symptoms of 'Desert Head'. I wanted to turn around. But I was more than halfway through the intersection and wouldn't make it back before the light changed.

My flip flops aren't rated for this sort of extreme heat and began melting into the road. People watched from their cars as I sweated and mushed by them. Extreme heat tends to make everyone look like Christopher Walken. 

I finally made it across the street. The drug store was only about a hundred feet more. I looked at it, but could go no further. I decided to go back to the hotel.

I crossed the street again. The little girl and her mother had come back the other way in their car, presumably to see if I had died.

When I crawled into the lobby of the hotel an hour later, I told them I was checking in. They gave me a water.

When I finally made it back to my room, my wife said she had found the aspirin. 

Thanks, honey.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

ONLY FOR FROYNLAVEN READERS!

If you are not a Froynlaven reader, please cease and desist from going any further. This post is only meant for those who it is meant for. And you know who you are...

Today's blog is very brief indeed. The family and I are off to sweltering Phoenix for my nephew's wedding. Yes, the Ruggs shall again mix with our Irish brethren, the Flahertys. We shall do what the Irish do best. Out of a sense of decorum, I shall keep what that is to myself. 

However, that's not the point! No. The point, dear Froynlaven reader, is to let you know there was a slight mistake with the Season 2 Freakazoid DVD. Shocking. But true.

Seems that in the processing of said Season 2 DVD, something was excluded. I'm going to rectify that right now.

For those that have dutifully purchased the DVD (Takineko), and others who have won it with their parlor tricks (Keeper), you may have noticed that the Richard Stone demo tape of Bonjur Lobey has no intro. For those of you keeping score, that's the mistake.

There was a little intro I did that was supposed to be put at the front of Richard's song. But, fate bid otherwise.

However, Froynlaven reader, now, through the magic of this inestimable blog, you shall have that intro in it's original form as it was recorded 6 months ago.

God's speed!

Talk to ya Monday with Keeper's challenge...

video

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

AT LAST!

This very morning my Sherpa, Linghot, and I traversed the final 100 feet and reached our goal. My friends! We have conquered Everest! I can't believe it!

Luckily, I have brought along my satellite phone and texting device. I'm going to take a picture. My hands are very cold. But, I think I should take a picture since we've come all this way and it would be a shame to not get a picture.

Okay. I just took the picture. I'll uplink it now. 



Wow! Isn't technology amazing? Here I am on Mount Everest and I just took this picture! That's me on the left. Linghot is on the right. He can breathe up here! He sure is a strong, little Sherpa! Me? I like my oxygen! Ha ha ha ha!

Okay. Uhm, Linghot is telling me something. The wind is really strong up here so it's kinda hard to hear. Plus, Linghot has such a tiny, little Sherpa voice. His accent is funny. It makes me laugh. Ha ha ha ha! You should hear the way he says, "Sweetbreads." It sounds like, "Seatbeds." Ha ha ha.

Okay. Linghot says we have to go. Only the way he says it sounds like, "We hab to bo!" Ha ha ha. He's such a little Sherpa. I'm gonna get another picture of him saying, "We hab to bo."

Okay, Linghot is pretty adamant about us going. He says there's no time for any more pictures. He said, "No pime no picky!" Ha ha ha. What a little Sherpa.

Okay. Linghot is grabbing me now and pointing down. I think he really wants us to go. Something about wind. He's saying, "Bad stay. Wind us blowy way. Much hard to stand." Ha ha! Isn't that cute? People who aren't Americans are so cute and silly and different from us. 

Okay, Linghot just blew away. I don't think he meant to.

I can still see him. He's like Mary Poppins. Only he's not holding an umbrella and he's flailing his arms a lot and screaming. At least I think he's screaming. He's got such a little Sherpa voice I really can't tell.

Yeah. It's screaming. He seems pretty upset. This wind is pretty strong and it's blowing him across to the other big mountain peak. I'm gonna watch a bit.

Wow. Linghot is one, lucky Sherpa. The wind blew him right to the other mountain peak. I see him standing there. I'm gonna take a picture.




Okay. Here's the picture. I don't know if you can see but Linghot is way over there on that peak. He's just a little speck. But he's standing there. I think he's giving me the finger. Ha ha ha. What a little Sherpa thing to do. Well, one good thing; he can't get Swine Flu way over there. 

I'm gonna start down now. Tell you the truth, I've sorta been avoiding going down because there's this frozen, dead guy we passed on the way up. It's a real bummer.

Oh, well. I gotta go anyway. One of the other Sherpas is making us something freeze dried for lunch. I think it's beef stroganoff. 

I wonder how Linghot would say stroganoff? Probably, "Stogoogop." Ha ha. Silly, little Sherpa.


Monday, May 4, 2009

FUN WITH THE US CENSUS

When I hear that our government is thinking about nationalizing health care, I get scared. Super scared. Super hide-under-the-bed-with-a-blanket-over-my-head scared.

See, I worked for the government one summer...and I don't want those people anywhere near my tonsils, pancreas or bowels.

Before I suffered the ultimate indignity of dressing up as a Ninja Turtle for children's parties, I worked a summer for the 1990 US Census. 

Shortly after we were married, my wife and I found that money was an important thing to have. You can buy food with it. 

We heard that the US Census was hiring. 

We both went and took a test to see if we were smart enough to work at the Census. As I recall, the test consisted of seeing if we knew how to breath.

A few weeks later we received a letter in the mail. We had scored well at breathing. We were now official government workers.

My wife would work the day shift, and I would work the afternoon shift...allowing me to go on auditions and not get them.

My first day on the job I was introduced to other people who could breath. Barely. 

We sat at official US government cardboard desks. I do not jest. They were cardboard desks. 

Our job was to open US Census survey envelopes and input the data into a computer. The data would be used to make sure the government would function over the next 10 years. One look at my co-workers and I knew the government was in for a bumpy 10 years.

Back then the economy seemed to be in pretty good shape. So not a lot of people needed jobs with the US Census. This means that the people who DID need jobs with the US Census were particularly interesting. And slightly scary.

I overheard the following conversation on my first day on the job. A man (for that is what I think he was) was telling another man the benefits of working for the government. It went something like this:

"So, like, if you ever feel sick and you're at work you can just go into the bathroom. You could stay there all day and they'd still have to pay you. Know why? Because you're at work. But you're sick. You're there...so you're officially at work...but you're sick...so you're not working. Like if you have diarrhea. What are they going to do? Say, no you can't have diarrhea? Get back to your desk? No. Cuz then you'll mess yourself at your desk and subject other people to your spores. And they don't want that. So, you have to stay in the bathroom. But you want to work. It's just your bottom is not cooperating with your desire to work. So they have to pay you. And what are they going to do? Check on you in the bathroom? No. They have to believe you cuz they can't demand to see your diarrhea. That's against the law and an invasion of personal privacy. No one can insist on looking at your diarrhea. That's a known fact. And if they did. You could sue them. So diarrhea is a good thing to have if you come to work but don't want to work. But you'd have to spend most of your time in the bathroom, that's the only downside."

Not everyone was as unusual as this man. Some of my co-workers were just there to supplement their income. Others were there as some requirement of their parole board.

One retired woman was there because she thought it would be fun.  I remember she would sit in front of her computer and say. "Oh fiddlesticks! Behave Mr. Computer!" In the three months of working next to her, I don't think she ever input one thing. She got close. It was at the end of the three months that I discovered she hadn't learned how to turn her computer on.

Another co-worker was in his early 20s. He loved the Fox sketch comedy show, 'In Living Color.' He would spend every moment saying, "Two Snaps Up," and then shouting, "Werrrrrrrrrrrrr!" I don't what that meant. But he did it all the time. After two months I thought about bringing a weapon.

Diarrhea man took care of it by trying to flush the young man down the toilet.

It was a magical time in my life.

I hear they are hiring again.

I can still breath. Maybe I should give it another shot.

Friday, May 1, 2009