Painting With Shotguns XVI

Terrible Minds Logo (Misc)

Time, I think, to try out a new format for this here Painting With Shotguns series of posts. Gone shall be the bullet point buckshot of previous incarnations, and now we’ll do something a little more targeted — y’know, like a heavy deer slug, punching clean, thumb-sized holes in your brainmeats.

(When I was a kid, I heard the words “deer slug,” and I could not help but imagine a whitetail deer crossbred with a oogy-spoogy slug. First person who draws me that gets a prize. No, seriously. I’ll give you some kind of prize. Don’t ask me what. I have no idea.)

So, here goes. New format.

Ready?

Set?

PLOOM.

News, Revisited

Strike You presumably saw the press release over at the Sundance site, yeah? I posted it here, but did so without much comment. So! Time to comment. Obviously, Lance and I are crazy excited to be a part of this process and know we’re very lucky to have been chosen out of the thousands of quality projects that reached for the brass ring.

So — what’s the big deal? Well, first, the Lab hasn’t ever chosen a transmedia project before, as our film is only one part of a storytelling initiative that reaches across other narrative outlets (games, episodic content, web content, etc). Also, I’m fairly certain they’ve never brought in a horror script before, which is super cool. The program has a powerful legacy behind it, with some of my favorite films (Reservoir Dogs, Requiem for a Dream, Hard Eight, Hedwig and the Angry Inch) having gone through the lab.

Come January, Lance and I head out to Park City, attend the Lab, learn from a handful of incredible screenwriters and workshop our script in the process. Further, I’ll be hanging at the festival for the first several days, which is also big-super-uber-exciting. I am moist at the thought. Positively sodden.

What? Shut up.

Good thing is, this generates momentum. Plus, we have other projects gaining traction here and there, so — here’s hoping.

The Airport Is A Hive Of Scum And Villainy

Ninth Circle of Hell No, really, it is.

Don’t believe me?

Here’s proof, in the form of Crash and Burn (The Steve Weddle Memorial Airport Flash Fiction challenge!). Some crime and mystery writers, some of which are part of the illustrious Team Decker, participate in flash fiction challenges from time to time. I wasn’t going to participate, because I’m a dumb-ass, but then I had an idea and ran with it. You’ll find my work in that list , but if you want the direct link, it’s over at Jet Pack (“Airport Bar Before Boarding“).

All the work there is great. I’m partial to entries by Weddle, O’Shea, and one by some gent named Chad Eagleton.

Oh! Also. Speak-a-Team Decker, you’ll find a great interview with my agent, Stacia Decker, over at Online Book Review. She’ll help decipher some of the mysteries around the process of getting an agent and further, having an agent. Which is nice for me, because I’m basically a dipshit with a bucket on his head. Anytime someone lifts the bucket and whispers at me a few words of wisdom, hey, I take ’em.

Bucket down! Charge forth.

I’ve Created A Goth Forensic Navy-Kink Monster

Listen. Listen. Remember how I told you that if you were to casually mention Pauley Perrette (“Abby from NCIS”) in your blog posts, you’re damn near guaranteed hits? Don’t do it. Don’t do it! I’m warning you. Run away.

I’ve created a monster. I get hundreds of views a day for that post, now. I am not fucking with you. And it’s only getting larger. It’s like there’s a giant Pauley Perrette, and she’s stomping around Terribleminds, her pale feet crushing tuk-tuks and hot dog stands and —

Wait! No, nooo, I said “feet” and “crushing” and her name, didn’t I? Here come the foot fetish freaks. Here they come. I hear them. Stampeding. On their precious feet that they love so much. (Maybe they’ll get tripped up and start sucking each other’s toes along the way, earning me my escape! The fools.)

That said, don’t think I’m not still at the ass-end of other bizarre-o search results.

Like what, you ask?

Well, let’s see.

“Doctor’s duty to fuck?” Ayup.

“Pebble fucking?” Sure.

“Cupcake pooping dog?” Hell, why not?

“I need bad-ass people” You came to the right place!

Profanity and bad-assness reigns here at Terribleminds.

The Official Terribleminds Brand Asiago Cream Sauce!

You want a recipe? I got one for you.

Take 3 TB of unsalted butter, and ejaculate it into a medium-sized sauce pan. Let it get all gooey. It shall stop foaming before you do anything with it, you hear me? You hear me?

Then? Toss in 2 chopped garlic cloves and half a chopped onion (medium-ish size). Sweat them like you’d sweat a perp. Low, slow heat for a good five minutes (toss a dash of kosher salt on the top, as I think it helps to soften them — and, hey, salt tastes good).

Time for the flour2TB of it. Poof. Mix. Stir. Cook for another five minutes, goddamn you.

Add in 1 and 1/2 cups of chicken stock (or broth). I have some pheasant stock sitting around, so I might try that next time. For gits and shiggles.

Then, it’s time to put in the milky goodness. Put in 1 and 1/2 cups of half-and-half, and then 1 cup of buttermilk.

Let that simmer down for 15-20 minutes.

Pinch of salt, pinch of crack-black pepper, dash of cayenne pepper.

Then, the magic comes.

Whisk in a 1/2 cup of sweet white wine, like a dessert wine. If you don’t have that, I imagine some vinegar would go some of the way toward replicating this, but a nice sweet wine really punches this right in the flavor packet.

Then, heat on the stove off.

A 1/2 cup of shredded Asiago cheese and 2 TB of butter go into the warm, creamy goodness. Whisk till melted. Serve on whatever you want, because it’ll make anything taste good. I put it on pasta, but you could put it on a dead possum stuffed in a fungus-laden gym sock and it would be dee-lish.

Quick Plugs

No, no, not buttplugs. That’s a whole different site.

Once more, I think it’s time to go with some bullet points, as it will be easiest.

  • Fred Hicks exhorts you to never be a silent fan. He knows that you need to sometimes throw a pebble.
  • Bowling Superhero Doyce Testerman, He-Of-The-Awesome-Name, makes some interesting points about why YA is a curious phenomenon in the publishing world, and what we could maybe learn from it.
  • You did see that the Fourth Nerdtivity slowly stumbles toward Bethlehem, right?
  • Wood has written a Christmas poem. “To the official, Anaxagoras.” You will go and rub it on your body.
  • First, Aaron makes me spew froth on my monitor with laughter when he reminds us that his Computer Is Dead, and further, he shows us his handsome, unfat serial killer mug in a little web video. This is not the web video where he seductively takes his pants off and shakes his balls at you. That’s a whole different video. You’ll know it because it’s filmed in night-vision. And he’s painted his, erm, junk with some kind of light reflective paint? So it’s made to look like a Kraken? It’s very strange. You’ll have to ask him about it, I had nothing to do with it, outside of holding the camera.

And that is all, people.

Peace in the Middle East.

I’m out.