Christy and Paul 2013

A year without internet, media and junkfood. Lord, help us.

Category: Screenwriting

Ending on a High Note: A Year in Retrospect.

Well, it’s that time of year again. You know, the end of it. It’s a time to conjure up a new reason to live after all the seasonal S.A.D.ness and the waking up every day after the sun’s gone down. A time to say goodbye to the blog and reflect on the results of our year-long experiment. A time to get on with it already.

But before we do that, I would like to thank everyONE in our intimate blogging community for commenting and keeping up with the Klardashienz. We’ll miss you someday.

Oh, and if you like photography, VISIT THIS PAGE!!! ==>

Photos courtesy of (with no permission) Brent's iPhone and Japan!

Photos courtesy of (with no permission) Brent’s iPhone and Japan!

Awesome and FREQUENTLY updated blog from Japan!

Awesome and FREQUENTLY updated blog from Japan!

Ahem, on with the show…


  • No internet, media watching, texting or video games.
  • ~55 WordPress posts!
  • Enter short screenwriting thingy.
  • Create
  • Cook A LOT.
  • Blow up an eggplant in the oven.
  • Take more pictures of myself than my parents have looked at me.
  • We’re sure this will be the most productive year ever!
Eggsplat. No, eggsplosion.

Eggsplat. No, eggsplosion.


  • I win a Scriptshadow shorts week spot!
  • Start work on Dog Tags.
  • I meet the Scripstshadow guy in person. He encourages me to send him the finished script.
  • We feel confident that this screenwriting thing is gonna happen, yeah!


  • Finish first draft of script.
  • Get too drunk and eat too much KFC.
  • Go to see the heads of screenplay contests lie their asses off.
Don't do it, people!

Don’t do it, people!

Bigass BUCK'T of chicken.

Bigass BUCK’T of chicken.


  • Finish up Dog Tags.
  • Send it to Scriptshadow guy who never returns my e-mail.
  • Start going to Starbucks while my husband’s at work.
  • Meet friendly local screenwriter who likes my work.
  • Experiment with fasting.


  • Get “encouraged to move” by landlords who want to sell.
  • Publish one post about apartment hunting.
  • Apartment hunt.
  • Decide that extended fasting is bull after seeing countless pictures of dull-haired anorexics with the caption: “I’m not starving, I’m feasting on fat!”
  • Win top prize at Pinup Girl Boutique drawing: fancy-shmancy skincare products, $100 worth of Masuimi Max’s makeup and my makeup done by Micheline Pitt.
So much makeup...

So much makeup…



  • Post one catch-all post.
  • Start work on gold diggers script.
  • Work on friend’s fashion magazine.
The cover on the left is my masterpiece!

The cover on the left is my masterpiece!


  • Another one-post month.
  • Start to get into quantum physics and the meaning of existence.
  • Start to realize that we do what we want, and that I must not “want” to be a screenwriter.


  • Call my parents from Pasadena “just because” for the first time.
  • Stab myself in hand with paring knife. It leaves a scar.
  • Start my search for my birth parents.
  • My dad falls and breaks his leg. He stays in the hospital for over two weeks, but I never call.
  • My dad dies in the hospital.
Me and my dad. I'm the one in the pink. Check out that crazy 80's light fixture!

Me and my dad. I’m the confused one in the pink. Check out that crazy 80’s light fixture!


Paul's Fanciest Birfday Present

Paul’s Fanciest Birfday Present


  • Sign up for Nanowrimo.
  • Throw Paul’s Christmas Birthday.
  • Give up on Nanowrimo.
  • Get new Nike Fuelband.
  • Go Fuelband crazy.
  • Go home for Thanksgiving.
  • Help mom get her affairs in order.
  • Get asked by Food Network for rights to our eggplant explosion pictures.


  • Paul posts a lot while we’re gone.
  • Return to LA with renewed sense of agency.
  • Paul visits Alabama.
  • After years of thinking, finally figure out the meaning of existence: there is none.
  • Feel dissatisfied with the answer and stupid for thinking it would be satisfying.
  • Get depressed.
  • Feel distant from Paul when he gets back, because we’ve lost our shared dream of screenwriting and are starting to diverge paths, or because we worship different gods, or because we haven’t been separated for this long in years. Things just feel different.
  • Bet Paul $50 he can’t go to Sunday morning church eight weeks in a row.


  • Celebrate New Year’s with Trey and Paul and Chodie Foster, uncertain where we’ll be this time next year, but grateful for the time we have left like this.
Shakes come & go... but Friends are Furrr-ever! Chuck E. Cheese's - 8/17/09

Shakes come & go…
but Friends are Furrr-ever!
Chuck E. Cheese’s – 8/17/09

Good night, dear reader, and good luck.



Finished! Again.

I finished my first fully-fleshed out draft thanks to the power of not being at home. Joshua Tree, here I come! For the past week, I’ve been trying to practice a modified version of the thirteen virtues of Benjamin Franklin. (I’ll post a picture of my first week’s transgressions later.) It’s really helped, I think, but I guess a lot of things can be helpful for a week. We’ll see how well I do when it comes time for me to start work on the next script.

Starbucks has been a beyond powerful ally in helping me stay awake and on task. I’ve been going to one near the studios, which has quite a few regulars who are also screenwriters. I guess this is one of those “benefits” to living in L.A. Also, the internet there is turrible and I only have an iPad, so I’ve actually put in full 5-6 hour workdays there. It has improved my efficiency so much that I went from thinking it’d be impossible to finish the script by Friday to being ready for people to read the script last night. Pretty mind-blowing for someone who’s ALWAYS LATE.

Anywho, good luck and happy screenwriting. : )

Why Do I Do This Again?

Recently, I’ve been waking to a sneaking suspicion that I’m doomed. Maybe this is normal at this stage of screenwriting.

I’ve set an April 19th deadline for finishing the script and sending it to Blacklist 2.0 for review. I haven’t written in days. It’s not writer’s block. I think it’s a fear of having to rip the screenplay to shreds only to find there’s nothing left. I need courage. Or to stop being so lazy. Or both.

I haven’t been blogging. I tell myself it’s punishment for my lack of forward progress on the screenplay, but I don’t trust me anymore. Maybe it’s embarrassment? Maybe it’s because I’m not a natural writer, and my desire to write is in ebb. I’ve probably got to get over that, if I want to be a professional screenwriter.

Why do I do this again? A few years ago, I would have said it was because I wanted to break into the industry to become an indie writer/director, à la Woody Allen. Now, I want to be a screenwriter so I can work from home and support my husband and myself. It may not be the interview answer, but it’s the truth. So, now, I feel a tremendous pressure to make this screenplay work/sell, despite the process being out of my hands and it being my first screenplay. <–Working screenwriters might enjoy taking a swipe at me for the audacity of this statement, and they’re welcome to, if they can catch me! But surriously, I assume no one devotes months of financial instability to something they don’t think can make them money in the long run, right?

All right. I went to the AFF talk and recorded the whole thing. I was hoping that there would be a way to upload the audio here, but if there is a way, wordpress has made it difficult. I spoke briefly with Franklin Leonard and Daniel Petrie, Jr. If you’ve never met a quasi-celebrity in real life (I’ve also talked to Aziz Ansari), might I not recommend it? Well, maybe just once, for the experience. You, too, can speak with someone jaded to human contact, then walk away feeling like a weirdo, sub-human groupie when they tell you they’re in a rush to leave, but wait! They turned right around to go talk with a table of “real people,” i.e. hollywood folk, four feet away. Hooray for the caste system!

If anyone knows how I can get the talk up here or sumthin, I’ll upload it and you can hear the sales pitches and pep talks from the heads of screenwriting contests and the possibly high/intoxicated ramblings of the guy who wrote Butter. I should probably add some pictures to this post.

I’m Going to See Daniel Petrie, Jr. & Franklin Leonard!

Well, I guess I should say WE, since Paul is also going, and driving, and he bought the tickets. Anywho… AFF Presents.

At the Los Angeles Film School, Austin Film Festival screenplay competition director Matt Dy,  Academy Nicholl Fellowship in Screenwriting director Greg Beal, and Black List founder Franklin Leonard will be having a public conversation moderated by AFF Board Member and former Writers Guild of America West President Daniel Petrie, Jr.


Blacklist Founder Franklin Leonard

I hate Hollywood and everything in it, but I get to see one of the Turner and Hooch writers, so… It evens out. I guess. Afterwards, there’s also some happy hour thing at some bougie restaurant that serves $13 eggs. I DOUBT the speakers will be in attendance, but it’ll be interesting to see what crowd shows up.


Turner and Hooch Writer/Exec Producer

I’ll let you know what I find out tomorrow, but it probably won’t be anything you haven’t heard before. : P I just want to know how much my 10-wrylies-a-page will affect my chances of anyone ever reading it. I:LOVE:WRYLIES! 



I just finished my first full-length first draft! It’s a spindly-armed f*cker at 89 pages, but I’ll tell myself that’s because it’s too tight. For the next few days, anyway.

Paul is sitting behind me, currently in the process of finishing the first draft of his TV pilot, and tonight, we’re going to sit down and have a drunken round table. Maybe the booze will make the acting part less awful. Or more awful. 50/50.

Fun facts about this first draft:

  1. It’s taken a little more than a month to flesh out the idea, plot it, re-plot it, re-re-plot it and finish the crappy first draft.
  2. I wrote in waves. I definitely didn’t feel like writing pages every day. If that means that I’m not a natural writer… I’m not a natural writer.
  3. Though not a hard deadline, I feel like wanting to get it done in a month helped, because about three weeks in, I started to get lost in the forest.
  4. Last week, I set a hard deadline for today and made Paul and my husband agree to the deadline for their own projects, whether they wanted to or not.
  5. Since I set the deadline, I’ve been squirreling away as many rewards for this weekend as I could get my hands on, i.e. distracting myself from over-thinking the script.
  • Brie
  • Fancy crackers
  • $13.99/lb parma prosciutto (all to compliment the first kumquat marmalade I made)
  • AND I also happened to receive a gift card to Bevmo yesterday (for cat sitting, random), which I took as a sign that I should try 3 Olives Cake Vodka.
  • If Paul gets moonshine and fried chicken as a reward for himself, I will post pictures. Hell, I’ll post pictures of an empty table if he doesn’t.

Time to be my regular old hedonist-self for two days.

Side note: I think the closer I got to finishing the draft, the more confident I felt, as evidenced by my increase in self-photography and increased usage of profanity. I guess we won’t know until we get a bigger sample size.


79 Pages and Face Painting

I reached page 79 of my screenplay today, and I rewarded myself (preemptively) by painting my face like K-Pop star Hyuna from the Gangnam Style music video… and taking pictures… and writing a blog post.

Photo on 3-5-13 at 9.51 PM

Another one of these posts?!

Photo on 3-5-13 at 9.50 PM

Yup. It’s my blog, bitches!

I disagree with the saying, “Starting is the hardest part.” When I started this script, I had loads of energy. The pages were blank, the potential limitless. But in the final 10-15 page stretch, all I have staring back at me is first-draft dreck. Finishing is the hardest part! There, I said it. 😛 How many unfinished projects do you have? Plenty. How many do you have that you haven’t started on, at all? None. MAYBE one. Don’t start making up projects just to be a contrary Mary. When you want to do something, starting ain’t too bad. Finishing? Brutal.

I call this picture: UNDERSTANDING.

Photo on 3-5-13 at 9.53 PM #2


Anywho, I wanted to do a side-by-side comparison of my makeup and Hyuna’s, so I needed to match her expression, which I honestly cannot identify. What is she feeling?! 


Lusty? Upset? Be more specific with your facial expressions!

My first attempt was a bust. I look like a RealDoll or a very pious Catholic.

Photo on 3-5-13 at 9.53 PM #3

Lars and the Real Girl

A few attempts later, I did the best I was willing to do.

Photo on 3-5-13 at 10.08 PM #5

Yes, that’s the one.



Battle of the Vacant Expressions

Hopefully, I’ll think of something more productive to do than put makeup on for no reason. It’s a better go-to than smoking hookah all the time, I guess. Hmm, now I want to smoke…

Oh, if you haven’t seen Black Dynamite, do.

Almost forgot to tell the latest Paul story. Paul goes to work at 5:00. He gets ready in a bathroom attached to the laundry room in the back of our house. At about 8:30, I heard what sounded like the washing machine going, despite the fact that I had not put any clothes in the washer. I went back to check what it was and found the sink in Paul’s bathroom running full blast. When I called to alert Paul of his curious blunder, and perhaps to suggest he see a doctor, he had the brass boobs to try to spread culpability to me for thinking that the washing machine had been going for 3 1/2 hours. SORRY PAUL! I’ve never had reason to suspect anyone of turning on a sink faucet so hard they could sprain a wrist, only to leave the house completely unawares.

“I’m sorry I’m not the most borrrring person ever! Okay? I’m sorry I’m not poor. I’m sorry I don’t have a fat ass! I’m sorry I’m not… Hey, where you going?” – Samantha James, Just Friends


Black & Blue

My hair is almost long enough to put in a ponytail! I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but I shaved my head… two summers ago? I don’t remember. The point is that this has been a long time coming.

Photo on 2-27-13 at 8.42 PM #2

We just have a table in the middle of the room. No chairs. Just a table.

When I shaved my head, I pledged to myself that I would stop the vicious cycle of dying my hair, which I ‘ve been doing in some form or another since middle school. My dad always told me that I wasn’t allowed to dye my hair or get a tattoo until I moved out, so I used hydrogen peroxide to strip the black out of my hair. Luckily, my dad wasn’t particularly observant, so it wasn’t until high school that he noticed and asked whether I had dyed my hair. “No, I did not dye my hair,” I responded, truthfully. I never got a tattoo, though. AND I NEVER WILL.

Photo on 2-27-13 at 8.44 PM

That’s a sticky rice red bean donut on the table. : (
They were going out of business today!

The itch to dye is still there, though. I’ve been blonde, attempted pink (orange), red, teal, copper, dyed black, light brown, dark brown and all of the faded versions of the aforementioned. When I saw Whip It, I probably came home and dyed my hair that night. Paul says I dyed my hair in the bathroom of Alabama Apartments the day we moved out, but I don’t remember that or ANYTHING. I really do have a horrendous memory.

Photo on 2-27-13 at 8.39 PM #2

Paul’s clamshell LED/Speaker reminds me of MST3K.

As you can see, I figured out that black hair + blue light = Whip It blue hair.

Photo on 2-27-13 at 8.40 PM #2

One of many shisha boxes that have crept their asses into this house.

You can also see that we like to keep a pretty messy living room.

Photo on 2-27-13 at 8.44 PM #2

This is turning into iSpy. Can you spot the elbow?

In other news, red light doesn’t work as well.

Photo on 2-27-13 at 8.47 PM

The red light refused to cooperate. Fine, then I refuse to research the attributes of red light.

On the screenwriting front, I’ve been stuck at around page 69 for a week (hence the pic procrastination). I’m only shooting for 95 pages, so I’m not too far away from finishing my first draft, but I was hoping it wouldn’t take an entire month to get the story right and pump out 90-ish pages of script.

To be honest, my frustration with trying to make major changes to the story from within Final Draft drove me to metaphorically drink. I’ve been on a media bender for the past four or five days! Bill Burr podcasts, 21 Jump Street, The Graham Norton Show (saw one feat. Ozzy Osbourne that lead me to The Osbournes), even Ice Loves Coco for God’s sake!  I relapsed. I’m embarrassed. It hasn’t even been two full months!

I don’t know whether to blame the page stall on the media consumption, or the media consumption on the page stall. It’s probably both. Damn it. At least I’m turning it around, right?

– Christy has nothing positive to say.

Watch a Movie, Pay the Price

The script I am working on is my first full-length screenplay, and today, I made the mistake of watching a successful mainstream film. I now have a terrible case of the I-SUCKS.

I know you can’t have shooting draft expectations for first drafts. I know that. But there’s a voice inside of me, and sometimes one outside of me, telling me that I need to re-invent the wheel and simultaneously, that I need to be more mainstream. It is a disaster area in my head, and I haven’t even finished a first draft. The only thing that seems to effectively calm my nerves now is to read what few pages I have of my script. Read through them, without stopping. Ahh, the characters aren’t confusingly similar. Ahh, there’s nothing that bores the daylights out of me. All right, that’s fine… I think I’m okay.

I didn’t know it before, but ^this whirling dirbish of self-doubt^ is another reason I shouldn’t watch movies. I compare myself to the writers the same way I do to airbrushed celebrimodels on the covers of Sport’s Illustrated and Glamour and Cat Fancy. The old me would have said, “Why not compare yourself to completed movies? That’s what the studios want, right?” But the old me never wrote a full-length screenplay, so I tend to question her credentials.

"You deserve the best. You deserve... Fancy Feast." - Stan Smith, American Dad

“You deserve the best. You deserve… Fancy Feast.” – Stan Smith, American Dad

Maybe there are smart screenwriters out there who are not at all phased by the magnitude of the minutiae involved in writing good, big-budget films. Likewise, maybe there are men and women who can be inundated with images of young, anglo, airbrushed, made-up, well-lit, surgically-enhanced models every day and not develop a complex. I’m not sure which one I doubt more…

Was this post too much of a downer? How about this?*


*Edit: Was going to give Snoop Dogg Lion a shout out for a “Macaulay Culkin looks like he’s been HOME ALONE for 30 years” joke, but then I saw Macaulay Culkin’s picture, and it’s too sad. You do NOT want to be the last person to make a joke about somebody before they die. It’s just not in good taste.

All righty, page count’s been okay. It’s been 9 days, and I’ve written 45 pages, more than I wrote in all of 2012, so… Awesome! And a little sad. 😦 I’m shooting for 95 pages total, so maybe I’ll be done in 9 more days. O_o Or maybe that’s crazy.

Carry on! Carrion?

Carry on, Carrion! <– Zombie Shirt Waiting to Happen

– Christy

Country Music Story Tellin’ – “Don’t Take the Girl”

My love for Country music goes way the hell back (relative to my time in existence). I swear I didn’t know the radio could play anything other than Country til I was 6 or 7, because every radio in the house/car was always tuned to WDRM.

Tennessee Valley, that is. Y'all come back and see us sometime, ya hear?

Tennessee Valley, that is. Y’all come back and see us sometime, ya hear?

When I was ten, I  told my family that I wanted to be a Country singer. My older sister quickly disabused me of the idea, letting me know that 1. I was Asian, and there was no such thing as an Asian Country singer, and 2. I couldn’t sing. I was embarrassed. My dreams were crushed before they’d even had a chance to settle in, and since then, I’ve never told ANYONE the extent of my larger-than-life aspirations. Hmm… Blogs as therapy. Good research paper idea.

I should have been a cowboy,
I should have learned to rope and ride…

As I grew up, I discovered a love for other genres (especially Motown, Soul and R&B) and left my love for Country behind, possibly out of a feeling of exclusion or possibly as a rebellion against my parents. Don’t… Yeah, don’t know. The recent revival of music in my life, thanks to Pandora One and a lack of visual storytelling mediums, has given me a chance to look back at the Country music of my youth with fresh eyes. Fresh, teary eyes. You wanna talk about tight storytelling?! I’mma let you finish, but Tim McGraw had one of the best short stories of all time! One of the best shorts of all time! : P “Don’t Take the Girl” is like that “Christmas Shoes” song, but without all the backdoor self-aggrandizing. “I just had to help him oooout…” F*ck you, Newsong! You should have been called Onesong! (I hope they were, in fact, one hit wonders.)

“Oh, I am gonna write a SONG about you…”
I know it’s wrong, but every single picture of this incident makes me laugh.

Country music has a stronger emphasis on storytelling than pop (Southerners are indeed a story-telling folk ^_~). I wouldn’t argue if you disagreed, but I do think there’s something us screenwriters can learn from this oft-put-down genre. It is, after all, a HUGE deal in the red states (and Europe, what’s up with that?). Can it be racist/nationalist sometimes? Yes. But more often than not, I’ve found racism is nothing more than a symptom of limited exposure to other peoples. The South might be changing, but it’s still pretty minority free, save for African Americans. And besides, ever notice how much sh*t the South gets from people who’ve never been there? Wooh, okay. That’s another post.

Who doesn’t love a good map?

Anywho, back to the song. It might just be me, but I can’t get through it without tearing up. It’s such beautiful, blue-collar love, people!  You can imagine, for instance, that after Johnny gets robbed, he’s not gonna be super indignant about it. He’s not gonna be like, “Who the f*ck does that guy think he is? I’m gonna f#cking call the police right now! Oh, you messed with the wrong Jonathan Carlisle III today, buddy! Ooh, I am really steamed.” Lol. I don’t even know who that guy would be, but you get the picture.

Funny guy. I wish Katt could stay out of jail…

Without further ado:

Johnny’s daddy was taking him fishin’
When he was eight years old.
A little girl came through the front gate
Holdin’ a fishin’ pole.
His dad looked down and smiled,
Said, “We can’t leave her behind”
“Son, I know you don’t want her to go,
But someday you’ll change your mind.”
And Johnny said,
“Take Jimmy Johnson,
Take Tommy Tompson.
Take my best friend, Bo.
Take anybody that you want,
As long as she don’t go.
Take any boy in the world,
Daddy please, don’t take the girl.”

Same old boy, same sweet girl
Ten years down the road.
He held her tight and kissed her lips in
Front of the picture show.
Stranger came and pulled a gun
Grabbed her by the arm said “If you do what I tell you t(w)o,
There won’t be any harm”
And Johnny said “Take my money,
Take my wallet,
Take my credit cards.
Here’s the watch that my grandpa gave me,
Here’s the key to my car.
Mister give it a whirl,
But please don’t take the girl.”

Same old boy
Same sweet girl
Five years down the road
There’s gonna be a little one and she
Says it’s time to go.
Doctor says the baby’s fine,
But you’ll have to leave,
‘Cause his momma’s fading fast and
Johnny hit his knees and there he prayed
“Take the very breath you gave me.
Take the heart from my chest.
I’ll gladly take her place if you’ll let me,
Make this my last request.
Take me out of this world.
God, please don’t take the girl.”

Johnny’s daddy
Was taking him fishin’
When he was eight years old

Lyrics by Craig Martin and Larry W. Johnson

Kills ya, don’t it?

“I mean, as long as I have been doing music, I know I am only 30% of what I could be and want to be.” – Tim McGraw


Page Count: What is NORMAL?!

For whatever reason, I have never been able to do first drafts of things, break up projects into mini goals or turn in things that I’m not proud of. Boohoo, you say? So, you can only do the best you are capable of, all in one sitting? So, what?! I’ll tell you “so, what!” 

This unusual combination of weirdness has lead to:

  1. Chronic procrastination (like chronic masturbation, but more stressful) due to a fear of starting a project, knowing that I will have to finish it, marathon-style.

    Jeez… I wish my legs were that skinny.

  2. Staying up for unhealthy amounts of time (sometimes 70+ hours, but most of the time it was 50-60) due to my need to keep working until the project was done/perfected. Incidentally, I have tried every major brand of energy drink, in the largest sizes available.

    Trust me when I say that I did not look this glamorous staying up all night, and the Red Bull looked more like a crack pipe.

  3. Losing letter grades/getting zeroes on projects, because I was too embarrassed of my work to turn it in.

    F is for Fancy F

  4. Taking drugs for the first time. O_O Okay, this one sounds a little scarier than it was. I had been awake for 70+ hours writing a paper and creating a presentation for a group project (yeah, it was one of those where I did everything). I was dog tired when it came time to go to class, and I had to give the presentation, as I was the only one who knew what the hell was going on, so… I took a partner’s Adderall. I don’t encourage anyone to take Adderall recreationally, but it was like I had just slept for 12 hours and woken up for the first time! (BTW, Adderall use seems too common for kids born past 1989. Or maybe, I’m just old and unhip.)

    A little lifelong dependency on amphetamines never hurt anyone, right?

  5. Failing a pass/fail class, because I slept through finals day (the final entailed standing in front of the class and talking about ANYTHING for 5 minutes). I had been sleeping every other day for a month. It caught up to me.

    Dear college students,
    I don’t recommend attempting the uberman sleep schedule during finals week.

  6. Losing a cush job summarizing academic texts for $10/hr. Could have/should have just summarized the resources as simply as humanly possible for non-native English speaking computer science professors. Didn’t. Lost ma job.

    Easy for some… ~_~

What’s the point of all of this? Well, screenwriting is not a paper. It’s not a project to be pumped out in one long marathon of insanity. As far as I can tell, it’s impossible to treat it that way. But those compulsions… They’re still there. Every time I stop writing, I feel guilty for not going over what I’ve done a million times, and I feel guilty for only pumping out 6 or 7 pages, even though I have plenty of time to keep working. I just don’t know what’s normal. I guess it might get easier to produce as time goes by, or maybe I’ll just get used to my low page counts. Either way, it’s a stage I was bound to go through, having been forged in the writing fires of academix (<- mistype, but I like it. o_o) rather than the artz.

For the First Time Ever! My Sad Attempt @ Art:

If I had to title it:Primate's Primary School Photo

If I had to title it:
Primate’s Primary School Photo
Yep, that’s poo in his hand.

“The only thing I was fit for was to be a writer, and this notion rested solely on my suspicion that I would never be fit for real work, and that writing didn’t require any.” – Russell Baker