Movember / No Shave November is drawing to a close. I would like to thank all my friends and colleagues who joined me on this journey. As we bid adieu to our spectacular man-staches it is not without a bit of trepidation.
It is the fear of the unknown.
Since we last shaved, the world around us has changed.
For instance, thirty days ago, consider:
- Halloween had just ended, now we look past Thanksgiving and on towards Christmas.
- The average temperature has fallen from 78 degrees to 72 degrees in Tampa.
- When we started, Mitt Romney looked to be the next President of the United States.
- Hurricane Sandy had just made landfall the day or so before, kicking off more than $42 billion in damage to New York alone.
A lot has changed. We must cope. We must adapt. We must be brave my mustachioed brethren.
A look at our beards... one last time:
The Germanator
Hetero-Cubicle-Roomie-Lifemate-RiRi
Thomas The Tank Engine Screenwriter
Random Starbucks Guy
King Beard Himself, Me
As we struggle to cope with being lame, normal, unbearded folk, I leave you with the video on how to kill a mustache:
Last night Ryan and I worked the room at a high-roller work function. We drank champagne and mojitos, ate food prepared by the region's finest chefs and had a good time watching clients, potential clients and the owner of our company bid on items to raise money for the local college.
As an an example, four dinners went for about $10,000 and each head had a minimum contribution of $100.00. I think the event served its purpose to allow for a mix and mingle as well raise significant funds for the college.
Here is what we ate as part of a 4 course meal:
Filet Beef, Cornish Game Hen, and something that looked like mashed potato but was not
Dessert was Peach Cobbler, Fudge Brownie, and Vanilla Ice Cream with a Waffer and Raspberry
I know I promised to post suit and beard photos of Ryan and myself, but I made a promise to a certain lady (not my mother folks) to keep that photo between us and that trumps my promise to ya'll. So to make it up to you, here is what we both wore to the after-party.
Me:
Living life as God intended....
Hetero-cubicle-roomie-lifemate Ri Ri:
I told him suits weren't necessary...
Screenwriter Thomas crashed the after-party but no one would talk to him dressed like this...
Three days left of being a beard grower. After that I shall become a stubble cultivator.
As the days dwindle in No Shave November or Movember, the challenges mount. For instance, tonight two of the trio of beard growers at work have a client dinner to attend.
We ask ourselves, should we shave? But we can't. There was never a choice in the matter. So we edged the lines of our beards and hope that tonight, by suiting up, we can distract people from our fuzzy facial growth.
Tomorrow I will post pictures of us in our suits and ready to rock it with the high rollers tonight.
There seems to be a trend at work. When in doubt, send in the young guns (as they call us at work). We work the room with smiles and jokes and come away with clients that feel like friends.
And full stomachs. These events always have great food (I will update the spread tomorrow too).
For now, I will update you with the three days left countdown beard. Notice in my photo you can see the suit just waiting to be put on.
The countdown has begun in earnest for the freedom to shave my face.
My hetero-cubicle-roomie-for-life Ri Ri has begun complaining about the length of his mustache. He hates that he can see it when he types on his keyboard or smartphone. He hates even more that he can see his hairy reflection in his smartphone screen.
The Germanator, across the way, has said that his wife is giving him a hassle about his facial growth.It scratches her face and he is pretty sure she plans to scratch out his eyes to return the favor.
The full-court press is on and we are determined to see this thing out through to December.
Ri Ri and I were at the Vitamin Shoppe supplement store getting our workout narcotics when we saw a man with a handlebar 'stache. He nodded at us, we nodded at him, and we knew. No words were needed.
The mustachio bond knows no bounds.
Speaking of which I discovered the other day that I am following in a long line of mustachio history in regards to my family. It appears, when going through some old photos, that my late great, great, grand pappy, the barrister Archibald Higgins Denmon III, also sported the 'stache.
Great, great, grand pappy Archibald
As we draw this epic facial hair escapade to a close, I have decided to award the best lip-growth employee at my work with this stunning tribute to their testosterone prowess.
The grand prize!!
I'd say, "may the best man win," but I want to seem at least a bit modest, as at first glance it looks like I shall be rewarding myself with this amazing gold medallion of success.
I had Thanksgiving at my Dad's house this year. It was a wonderful meal prepared by his fiance. She made a turkey that looked like something from a movie and there were enough side-dishes to feed an army. About 15 of us gathered to eat turkey, cornbread casserole, green bean casserole, cranberry sauce (blah), mashed potatoes with turkey gravy, raspberry pie, warm rolls with butter, Hershey Kiss peanut butter cookies, among more things I can't remember.
Here is the spread:
18 pound turkey
Loads of food and family
What a fantastic Thanksgiving. It really reminded me what I had to be grateful for this year and generally. Speaking of which, it is a blessing and a curse that my family read my blog posts. I wrote that I hate when they go around and make us state what we are thankful for, and so of course my Dad asks me to "lead us in what we are grateful for this year." Then when I am done, he says, "Okay, great! Now let's eat!"
Thanks Dad.
Beard update:
My beard is really taking on a life of it's own at this point. Birds are nesting in there like in family guy.
Here is Peter Griffin:
And here is me complete with the annual use of my glasses and a sweet Argyle sweater. I should have worn my old-man Argyle socks too. You know, the only thing that would make this sweater better would be elbow patches and a pipe.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, a time for family, friends, and holiday traditions. In the spirit of the holiday, I will list my five least-favorite Thanksgiving traditions as well as my top five can't-live-without traditions.
The Top Five Traditions that SUCK (in no particular order):
1) Watching family members fight over the Turkey heart. Disgusting. Speaking of family members, it is in situations like this that having divorced parents is a pain. Each one wants to throw their own Thanksgiving and I have to eat twice.
Doesn't sound so bad?
It is like death by chocolate. I imagine it would be great until you realized it was actually killing you. A second Thanksgiving dinner is just to much goodness for any one man to handle.
2) Cranberry Sauce. Each year I try it and just can't discover the ability to delude myself enough to go from the "Hate it" column to the "Love it" column.
3) Going around the table taking turns mentioning things we are thankful for. I always feel "on the spot" and wish that everyone would just assume I am thankful for the good things that happened in my life over the course of the year, big and small. Usually, as a defensive mechanism, I list something that I absolutly shouldn't be thankful for, offer a small laugh, and wait for the spot light to move to the next chair over.
4) Small dishes of walnuts and walnut crackers. Don't like walnuts much. Dislike even more having to work hard to get the nut out of the shell while I explode little bits of shell all over the counter, then have to clean that, then have to eat a nut I don't care for. Pass.
5) Cleaning up.
The Top Five Traditions that ROCK (in no particular order):
1) Seeing family and friends. I really enjoy seeing everyone even if I have to jump through hoops, drive across the state from east to west and north to south.
2) Football. Nothing like eating a pie and some left over turkey sandwiches while you drink a holiday beer (Sam Adam's seasonal) and watch some football.
4) Time off of work. Thursday and Friday off? Amazing. It's a good thing we get time off too, because a food coma can take a bit to recover from.
5) Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and the official kickoff towards Christmas. ( I know it is really two-in-one but it's my blog my rules). I love the music, the joy, and looking forward to the Christmas holiday. Lights, presents, friends, hot cocoa; what's not to like?
The office has gotten behind the Movember / No Shave November. I have two other partners in crime and they are doing an excellent job. Since words are boring, here are the pics:
The first player in this game of beard growth is a character form the blog...the Germanator.
The second is my hetero-cubicle-roomie-life-mate, Ri Ri.
Every so often I come across a movie that makes me wonder who out there decided that putting money on this movie was a worthwhile investment. These movies are usually on television and on local cable channels. So the mistake had to be made twice. The initial investor was duped. Then a television channel was duped into showing this movie by selection.
Movies that make my list of utter crap vary, but more often than not it is a low budget horror flick that really gets in the "Worst of" category.
The problem is, I help perpetuate these films because I watch them. Why? Because I keep hoping to come across the next Killer Klowns From Outer Space or perhaps the next Blair Witch. If a regular film sucks, I leave it. I change the channel. But with horror I keep hoping for that thrill I didn't expect.
Usually though, it never comes and I start to watch the film on the merit of it's unintentional comedy.
That was the movie Primal, this weekend.
Synopsis:
Anja and five friends join anthropology student Dace on a journey to study a remote ancient rock painting. Their excitement vanishes when Mel becomes delirious after skinny-dipping in the waterhole. Feverish bleeding confused she physically and mentally regresses to a vicious predatory state. Mel has gone primal. Mels lover and friends realize they are the prey as she savagely hunts them down. Before they can escape another one of them starts to regress posing a hideous choice kill their friends or be killed by them. Their only hope of survival is through a cave where Anja learns too late the meaning of the ancient rock art they came to study.
I almost lost it when...
Her teeth fell out and she grew rabbit (rabbit) fangs. What the fuck. It is as if they took the Monte Python skit, combined it with an ugly woman, and ran with it.
I definitely lost it when...
At one point the strongest member of the group literally hits this crazy fanged woman in the face 9 times with a large tree branch and she doesn't go down. Then later on the weakest member of the group hits her once and knocks her unconscious. I don't ask for much in these films but please, a little consistency.
This weekend I am going on a trip. Very excited to go and shall depart immediately after I am done slaving away in my cubicle. The temple of corporate power that keeps me confined Monday -Friday from about 8am until 5pm shall be cast down as I make my escape.
Conversation between T (a screenplay guru) and myself:
T: How's life at the office?
M: A mind prison. You?
T: At the gig too. Dying inside.
Do lots of people feel this way? For their entire lives? My God. Gotta break out of this cage and just do me.
A trip is just what I need to soothe the heart and mend the soul and to rediscover some of my creative juices.
Speaking of creative juices...
Halfway Updates for my November challenges:
NanoWriMo: update stands at 17,000 words; a little slower paced than I thought, but still moving the chains one page at a time.
Movember / No-Shave November: I could talk a lot or just show a pic that is worth a thousand words.
Now for the facial hair update...complete with lumberjack shirt and a tiny goal post over my right shoulder.
I was watching some video from the weekend and was thinking back to the party songs that dominated my formative years versus the songs we party to now. With some help from my cubicle-roomie-life-mate Ryan, we pulled together a top 5 list both past and present.
In regards to the top song on each list; I have included a video for your viewing pleasure.
Top 5 Party Songs from My Past 5. Hypnotize by Notorious BIG 4. This Is How We Do It by Montell Jordon 3. Mo Money Mo Problems by Notorious Big, Mase, Puff Daddy (BIG is in 2 songs on this list. Influential.) 2. Hip Hip Hooray by Naughty by Nature
1. Regulate by Nate Dogg and Warren G
Top 5 Party Songs from The Present
5. I Cry by Flo Rida
4. Gangnam Style by Psy (Damn it.)
3. Don't Wake Me Up by Chris Brown
2. Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen (What? Shut up - my list my rules)
Honorable Mention Video for Carly:
and now for number 1...
1. Drive-By by Train
That's my list! Further proving that my party music tastes are only as relevant as the music I heard at my latest gathering.
Last week in my blog, I told the world about the feud between Elmo and myself. What started out as a nasty series of emails about who had the better facial hair, degenerated into name calling and accusations of sexual impropriety. Mostly accusations flung around by myself, at Elmo.
I toyed with the idea of issuing an apology or a retraction. After all, according to this CNN report, the man who accused Elmo of conducting an inappropriate relationship with him, recanted.
See the video here:
But then I received this email from my red furred friend:
Check the news now you twat squatter. CNN has vindicated me. Suck it. Now maybe you will realize that puppets are people too. Puppets deserve the same courtesy of being assumed innocent until proven guilty.
Spoiler alert: There will be no apology forthcoming.
NOW...
First of all, fuck you Elmo. Puppets are in fact NOT people. And twat squatter? What a way to condescend. So I guess you win Elmo, because the 16 year old boy was cool with it. Glad to see you're happy with that! Enjoy your notoriety and let me know how much different that is versus the fame you enjoyed when you first came out with the Tickle-Me Elmo which, by the way, sounds even more creepy now. Next time I see you do THIS:
I'm gonna call 9-1-1 and I bet it won't be hard to track down the man in the red-fur-suit trying to talk to little boys at the park!
So at midnight today the new Call of Duty came out. I got it for my brother as a recompense for exposing him on the Rick Astley video as well as an early Christmas present. The game looks nice and I will probably be playing with him here and there.
Me holding the games
For those that play, my Gamer Tag is Rafael Rontego. Perfect name eh? We played it for a few minutes last night and it rocked. Much better than Modern Warfare 3.
In professional news, we are making excellent progress on the pilot script. Things are really coming together and I am enjoying the process of writing it with Thomas Humphreys.
The novel, God's Forgotten Son, a foray into a dystopian society, is going well. Just passed the 12,000 word marker and I expect it to come in around 50,000 words.
Had a nice weekend. Did the writer thing, had a few drinks with family and friends at my Dad's house, and entertained international guests of the British persuasion.
Update 1: NanWriMo - 12,000 words and working on the script for the TV pilot.
Update 2: Movember Stache Report - Really coming in nicely. Received comments at my Dad's gathering that I looked like a wildabeast. Fair enough.
So why title my blog after Rick Astley, he of the 1987 fame surrounding his hit, "Never Gonna Give You Up?" The British invasion didn't end with my friends, it ended with the party being Rick Rolled by this lovely fellow.
I went on a journey today to find Christmas in a cup at Starbucks which the masses probably call a Peppermint Mocha. That mission ended in success...
...but the very journey yielded a success far greater than the treasure I sought.
As I ordered my drink, I caught my cubical-roomie-life-mate-Ryan checking out the guy working the counter. Doing a double take, complete with an eyebrow raise, I caught site of what captivated him.
It was majestic.
It was everything I dreamed it could be.
It was the White Whale of all mustaches! And this, only 9 days in! But could it be? Could it be a MOvember mustache or was this a mustache pro, year-round in training?
Like a nervous fan, I approached the counter and said, "Excuse me, is your mustache for movember?"
With a grin he said, "Yes. Yes it is. I see you too have some growth. Have some free Starbucks, on me."
I walked out to the car, feeling happy but not yet complete. I put my coffee down and ran back inside as Ryan shouted after me, "You crazy fool, where are you going?!"
I said nothing, but approached the counter again, camera in hand. "Do you mind if I document this? My friends will never believe me," I said as if I were about to throw back a 40 inch fish.
"Not at all," he said.
So here he is:
And here is mine...as you can see I have quite a way to go...
Business First:
NanoWriMo update: 12,000 words. In fairness this number is lower than it should be because I have had to work on a script as well. Also my Movember mustache is weighing me down. Excuses? You bet ya. But this is my blog, so - tough.
Now, to the guts of this thing.
I saw a kid playing with a package of Garbage Pail Kids today while eating a set of those candy wax lips that I used to think were God awful but people tried to convince me were a treat. For some reason this got me thinking about my favorite now-obscure treats as a kid and what I would like to pass down to any future children that I might have.
Here they are:
1) Warheads. These things, especially the black cherry ones, would make me pucker up quicker than a hooker with a fifty dollar bill in her face. Sour doesn't begin to describe it. You have to develop a tongue callous to really get a handle on this candy.
2) Marzipan Fruit. Candies that were shaped like their flavor: Pears, Apples, Oranges...delicious.
3) Fruit Slices. Pretty self-explanatory but here is a hint: Looks like fruit but aint.
4) Circus Peanuts. I had no clue how to describe this candy. I just remember them tasting odd, not at all like a peanut, but maybe like stale marshmallows? It was all about the novelty for me in regards to the Circus Peanut.
5) Candy Cigarettes. I liked to have these I think because my Mom is an avid smoker. It made me feel grown up and cool. I was young enough that I would get a sugar high, but none of the cancer that went along with actual cigarettes. Win-Win!
I'm sure some of you have much better OBSCURE childhood candies, so let's hear them!
