Meanwhile, Back in the Mad Ones Saddle Again…

PREVIOUSLY ON THE MAD ONES “EVERYTHING BUT A BLOG”…

Now… do I honestly believe that all of our salutations, flirtations and adulations will actually work? Perhaps… perhaps not… but, what if? Because you see kids, if I’ve learned anything from my last three dozen revolutions around the sun king, it’s that if the gods must be crazy, then the devils must be fucked. As in… proper-fucked! As in… “riding the penny pony in the last race of the night”-fucked! And this, our little star-crossed one-shot chance dance with Sam Elliott, well pardners, it was just crazy enough to work. The Miracle of Divine Transitivity. What if… right?!?

AND NOW… THE EAR-BITING, ATTENTION-DISTRACTING, CHERRY-POPPING, SINFULLY STUNNING CONCLUSION TO THE LATEST “CHOOSE YOUR OWN” MAD ONES FILMS ADVENTURE!!!

PART IV: The Third Time Charm of the Second Coming of the One True Hot Pink Lord!!!

And that, my dear readers and true believers, brings us to the hot pink here and now, for it gives me great and all-powerful pleasure to announce that Act II of the HPJ Trilogy, “A Saint of Sin in a Den of Thieves,” is officially in pre-production! That’s right, the final titillating technicolour tall tale remaining to be told in “The Gospel According to Booze, Bullets & Hot Pink Jesus,” will (with the grace of the one true Hot Pink Lord) begin principal photography next spring for a summer 2013 worldwide release! If you’ll forgive us our mathematical trespass of going from one to three to two, then rest assured my faithful flock, that the awesome and almighty asskickery that will be Act II will make all the vexation and taxation of your grey brainy bits a most enjoyable mind riot indeed.

Because, you see kids, THIS is the story that I’ve been all antsy in my directorial pantsies to tell for the last three years – ever since the Mad Ones were foolish and faithful enough to follow me on such a cinematic crusade as ours. “A Saint of Sin in a Den of Thieves” is my Shakespearean spaghetti western – there’s forbidden love, wanton lust, cowboys versus Indians (and just take a stab in the dark who wins), thievery and trickery, crossing and double-crossing, tits and tacos, and a half-pint holy man with a hot pink master plan caught smack dab in the middle of all the explosive action. Oh, and Cholo muthafuckin’ Blanco too, of course! Hallelujah!!

Now I suspect that I know the train of thought derailing in your brains right now: “Sooo… that means we won’t hear from you for another whole year until you want us to pay attention to you again, si?!?” WRONG! I swear to you, and to the dark and elder gods of video voodoo, that I will no longer be the lackadaisical slackadaisical frakadaisical fop when it comes to putting pen to paper to document the pilgrim’s progress of our pint-sized prognosticator! In fact, as of this very chronicling, the inmates and I are diving headfirst and tits-deep into pre-production on “Saint of Sin.” While we’re still looking for a few more places and faces, the cast of Act II is already shaping up to be an almighty all-star assembly with Kaya Littleturtle as “Trickster,” Elise DuQuette as “Diana Maria Guillermos,” and John Scott-Richardson as “Johnny Thunderbird.”

And so I hot pinky swear that there will be an Act II production blog update EVERY fortnight (the more you know kids!) from now until this little ontological opus of ours is completed. As more awesome announcements, news and revelations arise and come to light, you – our tens and tens of loyal Mad Ones minions – will be the first to know! Suffice it to say, no matter how painful it may be to hear, Mad Ones Films will be going on a convention/film festival hiatus for the first half of next year so that we may concentrate every effort and, more importantly, save every dollar to make “A Saint of Sin in a Den of Thieves” the sindependent film sensation it was always destined to be.

I know, I know… it makes us sad little monkeys too that we won’t be able to run amok with you con crazies (you know who you are), and we’ll definitely miss your smiling, sarcastic, Stormtrooper faces. But sometimes certain sacrifices have to be made for Jesus. Now don’t you worry, because that hot pink holy man does, INDEED, have a master plan, and holy hell & hallelujah, is it going to be good! There are whispers in the halls of the Mad Ones asylum, of rumours and ruminations that next year’s MonsterCon in Greenville, SC (sponsoured by Stiff Magazine), may very well be the world premiere of something special… or rather, three something specials actually. In fact, one could say, theoretically and hypothetically, that it will be a trilogy of something specials.

See you in two weeks kids!
Remember to keep the faith, fight the good fight, and vaya con diablos!

x6x6x6,
Jaysen P. Buterin,
Creative Director, Mad Ones Films
www.madonesfilms.com | www.hotpinkjesus.com

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Meanwhile, Back at the Circle HPJ Ranch…

PREVIOUSLY ON THE MAD ONES “EVERYTHING BUT A BLOG”…

We may have had a little divine providence/intervention on our side this time but there are still a more-than-fair share of film festivals out there, as well as the corresponding fistfuls of dollars spent submitting to them, that have rejected and forsaken our Hot Pink Lord; an action that promptly launches them straight to the top of the “Sinners to Smite” list! And the film festival frenzy for Act III isn’t over yet either, not by a bloody longshot, because submission copies are still going out as we speak… or rather, as I write and will soon read… wait a second, haven’t we been through this before?!?

PART III: The Wild West Wooing of Sam Elliott
One of the best things about being a half-breed is having each foot firmly planted in a different world, while still keeping a toe or two dipped in the gutter. So one night, probably somewhere along the antemeridian hours, my brain is plotting its usual mental manic panic machinations. Now whether this was a delusional dream of wishful thinking or a fitful fateful vision of things most certainly to come, is totally not important. What is totally important is that in this altered state of sleepy time perception, there I was on the set of Act II – me, the Mad Ones crew, and the man behind the myth of the moustache, Mr. Sam Elliott.

As I directed Sam Elliott in the final scene of “A Saint of Sin in a Den of Thieves” and Sam was asking me what song would be playing on the radio as his character drives off into the sunset with the hot pink holy man, it slowly and surreptitiously snuck up on me… holy hot pink balls… I’m directing Sam Fucking Elliott!!! It’s too good to be true, I’ve made it! I’ve fucking made it! It’s my dream come… oh for fuck’s sake, I’m dreaming, aren’t I?!? Godsdammit Brain! But that put an idea in my head, and I’m sure as you all know by now, my head is a terrifying place to be… because once an idea gets in there, the only way to get it out is to make it happen. And so I led the Mad Ones on an epic quest to birth into this world the most rootin’-tootin’ highfalutin maddest meanest silver screenest slice of cowboy asskickery since the epic Wild West cinematic masterpiece, Rio Diablo!!!

And so pictures were painted, and petitions were created and circulated and John/Jane Hancocks were signed, and chaps were put on, and were then put on again – this time OVER pants, eh you Victorian FB prudes – and words were spread and stages were set. I even went so far as to sweet-talk a cute and crazy country cowgirl into letting me saddle up and ride her mighty fine equine so that if the golden words of a silver-tongued devil didn’t pique Sam’s interest, then surely the four-legged form of the noble steed I sat atop would appeal to his cowboy sensibilities. Let the courting begin – CLICK HERE TO SEE THE WOOING OF SAM ELLIOTT.

Now… do I honestly believe that all of our salutations, flirtations and adulations will actually work? Perhaps… perhaps not… but, what if? Because you see kids, if I’ve learned anything from my last three dozen revolutions around the sun king, it’s that if the gods must be crazy, then the devils must be fucked. As in… proper-fucked! As in… “riding the penny pony in the last race of the night”-fucked! And this, our little star-crossed one-shot chance dance with Sam Elliott, well pardners, it was just crazy enough to work. The Miracle of Divine Transitivity. What if… right?!?

Titillated? Captivated? Mesmerised? Glamourised?!? Then tune in tomorrow for Part IV: The Third Time Charm of the Second Coming of the One True Hot Pink Lord!!!

Meanwhile, Back at the Cinematic Asylum Awards Ceremony…

PREVIOUSLY ON THE MAD ONES “EVERYTHING BUT A BLOG”…


Now not to blow our own horns (which aren’t really horns at all, but more like halo holders), and this is going to sound like braggadocio and bravado, but given how many people worked their well-shaped asses off to make this film – I’d say a little eloquent encomium is long overdue…


PART II: Accolades, Adulations, Awards & Armageddon

Let’s face it… we all like to be told that we’re pretty. I don’t care who you are, how badass you pretend to be, or how much apathetic hipster air you breathe out in utterly futile exhalation – EVERY single one of us lights up like a firefly when even the simplest accolade or adulation comes our way. So why should filmmakers be any different? Jesus Hot Pink Christ, half of the film crew roles are completely made up titles and fictitious “roles” just so we can see our names more in the credits! Only, instead of getting flowers or jewelry, we prefer laurels. Well… we don’t “prefer” them, per se, because for some of us, the addiction runs much darker and deeper; the obsession bordering on narcotic, and understandably so!

So when Act III was accepted to screen at a convention and then another con, and then a film festival, and then TWO MORE film festivals, I was a bit mystified and stupefied. Now don’t get me wrong true believers, I knew in a sacred fucking heartbeat that the Mad Ones and I had made an absolutely tits-brilliant film (with actual brilliant tits in it), I just didn’t expect the rest of the world to realise it so soon. I had gotten so used to the standard film festival form rejection letter that the words “accepted” and “congratulations” seemed almost foreign, almost too good to be true. But these words just kept showing up again and again like a magic messiah, and not only that, but they started bringing their hot friend “Laurels!”

And where the laurels lurk, awards are sometimes known to follow, and follow they did, for within the whirlwind span of a sin-soaked summer, Mad Ones Films and Hot Pink Jesus had earned not one, not two or three or four or five, but SIX AWARDS!!! The Killuride Film Festival honoured us with “Best Grindhouse Film” for Act III while the beautifully badass Christy Johnson received the “Best Actress” award for her role as “Faith” and badassily (yes, I know it’s not a word, since when did that ever stop me before?!?) brilliant Gavin Glass won “Best Actor” for his performance as “Cholo Blanco.” At the 2012 ConCarolinas in June, we were sincerely surprised and humbly honoured to receive the first-ever ConCarolinas Filmmaking Achievement Award, which meant more to us than even I was able to mumble and stumble my way thru expressing on stage. The following month Act III was lucky enough to win the “Best Short Film” award at the Ancient City Con & Film Festival, while just a couple of weeks later Hot Pink Jesus won “Best Regional Film: Carolinas” at the RoundCon Film Festival in Columbia, SC – sponsoured by those evil geniuses over at Stiff Magazine!

While we may have had a little divine providence/intervention on our side this time, there are still a more-than-fair share of film festivals out there, as well as the corresponding fistfuls of dollars spent submitting to them, that have rejected and forsaken our Hot Pink Lord; an action that promptly launches them straight to the top of the “Sinners to Smite” list! And the film festival frenzy for Act III isn’t over yet either, not by a bloody longshot, because submission copies are still going out as we speak… or rather, as I write and will soon read… wait a second, haven’t we been through this before?!?

Titillated? Captivated? Mesmerised? Glamourised?!? Then tune in tomorrow for Part III: The Wild West Wooing of Sam Elliott!!!

Meanwhile, Back at the Hot Pink Hall of Justice…

PREVIOUSLY ON THE MAD ONES FILMS “EVERYTHING BUT A BLOG”…
However, I assure you dear readers that we have not been laying and loafing around the asylum, resting on our laurels. I say thee, “NAY TRUE BELIEVERS!” As lady luck would have it, turns out we’ve been winning laurels instead. And so, with no further alliteration-abusing adieu, TOMORROW shall begin the first part of what shall forever be known as the Cliffs of Insanity-Notes version of just some of the news of the video voodoo that we have been up to, these past months few.


PART I: The Convention Craziness & Film Festival Frenzy of Having Faith, and Being Willing to Travel for It

When last we spoke, true believers, or rather… when last I ranted (out loud) and scribbled (on a notepad of paper) and then fingerbanged (on a keyboard) and you read (with your jeeper creeper peepers), we had just finished principal photography on Act III of the “HPJ Trilogy” – Have Faith, Will Travel. We spent most of 2011 painstakingly paying attention to the most minute of post-production details and after taking more months to finish it than it did days to shoot it (one of the twists of the proverbial tits of filmmaking is not being able to pay people what they’re worth to take off from life), the cinematic second coming as ready to unveil to the masses! Thus the stage was set for the world premiere, and that stage was at one of our most beloved conventions, ConNooga in Chattanooga, TN. And after the revelation of titillation and cinematic salvation, neither their world, nor ours, would ever be the same again.

So Saturday night might be alright for fightin’, but what’s even better is to be even badder and spend it sinnin’ with some vexing video vixens! And so after many mad moons of post-production and pre-promotion, the time was finally at hand to deliver the latest sermon from the Gospel of Hot Pink Jesus to a standing-room only congregation. Despite the fuckery of a few technical bitches of glitches, which were quickly smited… smote… smitten (?!?) by our certified certifiable resident Mad Genius, Mikey Cordes, we unveiled “Have Faith, Will Travel” to a sold-out crowd. A crowd who were so possessed and impressed by the hot pink spirit of their conversion that it moved them right out of their chairs into a standing ovation. At least… we’re pretty sure it was a standing ovation. It was kind of dark in there… and we couldn’t find the light switch right away. However, once the Lord let there be light once again, the verdict was undeniable… we had ONE HELL of a hit on our hands!

What you have to keep in mind, dear readers, is that when we first broke out of our cells and into the A/V Room at the movie-making asylum, conventions were a one-time, once-a-year occurrence for us – and film festivals were strange alien things that real filmmakers attended – let alone were invited to screen at. So imagine the insanity, if you will or if you can, of screening “Act III: Have Faith, Will Travel” in three different cons in three different states over three consecutive weeks (hey… 3, 3, 3… that’s halfway to evil!) For ConNooga begat MystiCon (and another passionately positive response, as well as some mesonoxian fire drill madness) in Roanoke, VA and so mote it be that MystiCon would begat StellarCon – which was right in our backyards, over in High Point, NC.

Now not to blow our own horns (which aren’t really horns at all, but more like halo holders), and this is going to sound like braggadocio and bravado, but given how many people worked their well-shaped asses off to make this film – I’d say a little eloquent encomium is long overdue. Because not only has Act III screened at more film festivals and conventions than we’d previously attended in our entire career! As of this writing there have been 14 screenings of the Velveteen Nazarene (see a complete list here) with more festival submissions going out every month, but we have also been blessed to start winning accolades and awards to go with the usual amount of anarchistic attention we seem to attract wherever we go with a half pint hot pink holy man – but that is an entirely different twisted tale of titillation. Stay tuned for Part II tomorrow saints and sinners!!!

Meanwhile, Back at the Mad Ones Asylum…

PREVIOUSLY ON THE MAD ONES FILMS “EVERYTHING BUT A BLOG”…

So as the sun sets slowly in the West, I bid you a fond farewell. Now begins the exciting editing exodus, a rum-rich fun-filled 40 days and nights of FCP shenanigans, and a whole other longwinded loquacious lambast. For those of you who have stayed the course and are still reading this, you either have the patience of a saint or the perversion of a sinner, or quite possibly, a juke joint juxtaposition of the two.

AND NOW… THE NAIL-BITING, CHAIN-SMOKING, JAW-DROPPING, NIP-SLIPPING, EDGE OF YOUR SEAT SINFULLY STUNNING START TO A BRAND NEW MAD ONES FILMS ADVENTURE!!!

So apparently technology, with all its razzle and dazzle and fortune and glory, is not quite as “ooh and ahh”-inducing as the man would have you believe. Because if it were, then there wouldn’t be a lucky number 13 month gap between entries here, now would there?!? I mean, not for naught, but by the very act of naming this “Everything But a Blog,” and doing so rather aptly and thusly, should not that have imbued it with the raw power to become self-aware? I mean, I’m not talking Johnny 5 alive or anything, but at least cognisant enough to obediently “choose” to spend its existence chronicling my adventures both on and off the set?

But noooooo… apparently you have to say stuff and write words and type things because the stupid computer sure as shinola shit isn’t going to do it for you. If you don’t think things and scribe sentences then it just looks like you’ve been on the dole for a year… sitting around in your knickers, waiting for Hollyweird to come knocking on your door. However, I assure you dear readers that we have not been laying and loafing around the asylum, resting on our laurels. I say thee, “NAY TRUE BELIEVERS!” As lady luck would have it, turns out we’ve been winning laurels instead. And so, with no further alliteration-abusing adieu, TOMORROW shall begin the first part of what shall forever be known as the Cliffs of Insanity-Notes version of just some of the news of the video voodoo that we have been up to, these past months few. Oh come now, does it really surprise you that I’d have to break up a blog into wee bits?!? Jesus Hot Pink Christ, I set down to write a quick update of the last 13 months and am now on page 5… written… sigh. Stay tuned for Part I tomorrow kids!!!

x6x6x6,
Diablo

The HPJ Trilogy Production Blog, “Have Faith, Will Travel” – A Frak Me Footnote

PREVIOUSLY ON THE MAD ONES FILMS “EVERYTHING BUT A BLOG”…

“As I lay me down to sleep, I prayed the lord my soul to keep… except for that fact that I sold that soul many many manic moons ago. However, after seeing how absolutely drop-dead fucking tits-brilliant every single sinful thing about this film has turned out, I might just be willing to buy it (the soul) back… and trade it to my fuzzy hot pink messiah man.”

AND NOW… THE EAR-BITING, ATTENTION-DISTRACTING, CHERRY-POPPING, SINFULLY STUNNING CONCLUSION TO THE LATEST “CHOOSE YOUR OWN” MAD ONES FILMS ADVENTURE!!!

A Frak Me Footnote: Pre-Post-Production & The Patron Saint of Lost Footage

And so after many moons of months of cartons of fifths of hyper manic and panic planning, it was all over… all gone… poof… big bada-boom, blown to bejeezus in a wet hot American whirlwind 96-hour wad. Cinéma vixena vérité at its fantasy finest! Like any self-respecting shag of intellectual intercourse, I never ever wanted it to stop. However, one of the pitfalls of indie filmmaking on an aglet of a shoestring of a budget is the matter of proper pecuniary payment (dollars, dinero, ducats) to offer such gracious guys and gals for their time, their talent, their fealty and their faith. Just the thought of maybe being able to someday, in a gyrating galaxy not so far away, have the financial fortitude to be able to offer my Mad Ones a fraction of what they’re worth, well… that would just make me tits-happy!

I really cannot believe how amazing even just the raw footage from Act III looks! Oh do we have such wild and wonderful things to show you, and praise be to our very own golden god (well, golden-skinned, and although slightly tarnished, that still counts), Mr. Sasanka “Brown Sugar” Chowdary, for giving us the very second chance to do just that. You see kids, supposedly one of the beautiful things about modern filmmaking is the need to no longer have to shell out exorbitant amounts of cash & eons of time to get your film developed. Nope, that tarted-up trollop, technology, has managed to reduce the real reel down to these handy little wee-sized half-pint itsy-bitsy cards that fit into surreptitiously into the cameras we use. We’ve gone from developing to dumping, and believe you me dear readers, there is an inherent artistry to both of them.

You see kids, whether it was the mind-numbing/body-rocking exhaustion of a 13-hour shooting schedule the day before, or quite possibly Gremlins are alive and well and broke into Casa Diablo for the sole purpose of committing half-pint hell-raising, for some reason or another, one of the SD cards didn’t get dumped from the previous day when it was loaded into the camera for the final shoot on Monday. And since the final day consisted of naught else but the aforementioned tits and the ever-loving tacos, our minds were a dash bit preoccupied as daydreams of swirly girlies danced in our heads. So after the shoot, when all the cards were accounted for, and all the shots were being logged, I knew something was rotten in the rojo ojo state of Denmark, when Kato called with the “I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news” greeting. Because what that really means is “I’ve got bad news and I’ve got ‘Oh fuck me with a chainsaw’ bad news!”

And so without further adieu, Kato informs me that a good three to four hours worth of footage from the big head shop shoot out scene on Sunday, had apparently shuffled loose this cinematic mortal coil and made its way to heaven, as there was no way in hell it was here on earth. So there we were, the location of the scene in question already restored to its original state, some of the actors from said scene already shaved and shorn, and a task of Herculean proportions to try and reschedule a re-shoot and reclaim our lost footages.

However, it was amidst my preparations for cinematic seppuku that I decided to post the announcement of my impending doom due to said digital devastation. All of a sudden out of the binary blue, a single comment from an actual friend (not one of those people you’ve never actually bloody met before ever you just thought their faceyspacey profile picture looked tasty and so you fancied them) managed to ignite the smallest of sparks of hope by offering restoration and resurrection. So before I could shuffle loose this mortal coil, SD Cards were exchanged, nails were bitten, smokes were smoked, days turned into nights back into days (okay, so it was really just a good bad good 48 hours or so) but still to my slack-jawed surprise, Brown Sugar managed to rescue 99% of the missing footages… that beautiful glorious basterd!

While I’m sure it was as simple as some sort of evil genius download file that he extrapolated from the ethos of the InterWebs, I like to imagine it was a bit more complicated than that. Like he was standing atop a Mayan temple, in sun god-like robes, while thousands of nubile naked nymphs were bowing to him and throwing small pickles at his feet, while he sacrificed a golden goat to the heathen gods of long ago until they came down from the heavens and proceeded to melt the faces off of the infidels all Indiana Jones style. Yeah… he probably just downloaded something, but still this is America dammit, melty-face pissed off pagan paladins always make for a much better movie.

And so, after filming what is going to be our greatest cinematic creation to date, I can honestly say that I have been to the top of the mountain and it is a bodacious bedlam of babes and badasses, a fee-fi-fo-fum of filmmaking and fast times, and it is good ladies and gentlemen. With the wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey exception of a faithful flashback featuring a father, a son, and a holy ghost lurking ever so surreptitiously in the background that would be shot later – Mad Ones Films was officially done with principal filming for Act III.

So as the sun sets slowly in the West, I bid you a fond farewell. Now begins the exciting editing exodus, a rum-rich fun-filled 40 days and nights of FCP shenanigans, and a whole other longwinded loquacious lambast. For those of you who have stayed the course and are still reading this, you either have the patience of a saint or the perversion of a sinner, or quite possibly, a juke joint juxtaposition of the two.

Be good true believers, and keep the faith, for what is coming next will blow your mind, steal your heart, and kick your ass, and that’s before the opening credits are even finished. Hallelujah!

x6x6x6,
Jaysen P. Buterin,
Creative Director, Mad Ones Films

www.madonesfilms.com
www.hotpinkjesus.com

The HPJ Trilogy Production Blog, “Have Faith, Will Travel” Day IV: Tits and Tacos… Enough Said!

PREVIOUSLY ON THE MAD ONES FILMS “EVERYTHING BUT A BLOG”…

“So after a brief but frenzied field trip back to Greensboro to shoot a quick pick-up outside of The Hill, I dismissed the tired troops for as unfading and everlasting as they were, a 13-hour film set can exhaust even the most relentless of rogues in our gallery. And thus, the only ones for me caught some z’s with the sandman (or woman) of their choice, as visions of the following day’s tasty treats danced in their bed heads.”

AND NOW… THE EAR-BITING, ATTENTION-DISTRACTING, CHERRY-POPPING, SINFULLY STUNNING CONCLUSION TO THE LATEST “CHOOSE YOUR OWN” MAD ONES FILMS ADVENTURE!!!

And so it was that on the fourth day of principal filming, the hot pink velvetine son of God decreed that the souls of the ones who were mad, shall rest… however, being the diabolical director that I am, I decided to save the very best – and breast – for last. For our final day of filming was focused on one very specific and prolific extravaganza of erotic eateries. That’s right true believers, the light and the beauty and the glory that is “Max Diablo’s Tits & Taco-Rama” had finally arrived here on Earth. The culmination of exhilaration, the fruition of mammarian weapons of mass distraction, the catharsis of the gyrating genesis of taco-shelled titillation!

I’m not going to lie to you kids, cause that’s a sin you know… I love tacos. In fact, I’d daresay that I love tacos almost but not quite entirely unlike as much as I love tits – but in a totally different tasty treat kind of way. You ever try and motorboat a tray of tacos? Pick the wrong shell and you could lose an eye. However, I digress, as I’m wont to do about breasts. Hells belles, I’ve even gone so far as to make a lascivious and laundry list of all the types of tits that have I’ve grown to fancy over the years but you’ll just have to pay exxxtra special attention (tits ahoy) to Act III to catch that particular “Tit List”.

So I’m pretty sure that the only things my friends have really heard pouring forth from my big furry gob over the course of the last three years has been, “Blah blah blah tacos… meow meow meow tits… yadda yadda yadda Hot Pink Jesus… ,” and that’s not terribly far from the truth actually. So imagine, if you will, the look of excitement on my mug, when “T & T & A Day” finally reared it’s beautiful head and it was time to light the fuse! Because after spending many manic moons thinking, drinking and creating the world that would house the sin-soaked stage where the vixens of virtue and vixens of vice strutted their siren song in high heels for low lifes, the real titular titty twister is that I didn’t even get to really enjoy it!

Now don’t get me wrong dear readers, turning the Garage into Max Diablo’s Tits & Taco-Rama was, by far, the most fun and visually stimulating (amongst other sensory stimulations) Mad Ones set that I’ve ever had the good graces to run. In fact, I was the crazy cool captain of the big ship Lolly Tops, for everywhere I looked, as far as the dilated eye could, was nothing but a sea of tits, and it was a beautiful godsdamn thing. I’m quite sure that I’ll be number one with a bullet on several of my friends XXX-Mas card lists, for some of those varmints got a four-hour lap dance AND tacos FOR FREE! While I, on the other hot little hand, being the dutifully diligent and decadent director, had to settle for sneaking side glances of side boobs as I directed an unfolding scene of the utmost sinful and sensoury debauchery that even a dirty young man like me could imagine.

Of course, it wasn’t all side-boob snucken (just for you baby) glances, as there were several instances where I had to “direct” the dancers on what I wanted for the scene and since there was no bloody point in covering up since uncovering was illicitly imminent, there I was face to… well, tits, with some of the most vivacious vixens the Triad has to offer. Sometimes, it’s really really really good to be the king.

So we got all of our establishing shots, and multiple takes from every (well, almost every) conceivable angle of my usual prurient & prolix style of crucial tongue-in-cheek/tongue-in-taco dialogue. With that out of the way, what ensued can only begun to be described as the “batshite b-roll bevy of boobs extravaganza”. For those of you scratching your heads trying to figure out what, in the bloodiest of hells I’m talking about (much like this entirely way too long directorial diatribe) this was when I put a camera in damn near every available crew members hand, cued up “Have Love, Will Travel” and told DJ Miguelito to pump up the volume. We then proceeded to run around like horny headless chickens filming close-up shots of tits, tacos, dancers, dancees, and even more tits. As if I didn’t have a big boy crush on Robert Rodriguez already, there was actually one point when the song stopped and as everyone paused momentarily, unsure as to what may come next, my diabolical bellow of “KEEP FILMING!!!” offered the right hedonistic homage to keep the talent shaking their proverbial moneymakers for another four minutes.

And so, ladies & gentlemen, we called the proverbial “martini shot” and afterwards several other shots (as well as beers, drinks and more beers) were had. The air was an aromatic mélange of sex, tacos, smoke & lust. In fact, the sexual tension was so thick, so palpable, so distracting, that by the time that everyone left, I’m quite surprised they managed to wait long enough to actually get in their cars before succumbing to the coming of the wowsers in their trousers. But then again, what do you expect when you subject an already deviant crowd to several hours of sin-soaked sexually-charged hedonistic honeycomb hideout hijinks?

Hell, we’re probably lucky that no “immaculate conceptions” occurred… for strange things can soon become afoot when those feet are attached to bodies forced to watch drop dead gorgeous swirlie girlies dancing the body electric, all for a bloke who looks like Jesus, all in the name of Hot Pink Jesus. And so my band of merry Mad Ones disbanded for the evening, off to seek solace, shelter, and (more than likely) salvation in the comfort of their real grown-up lives that pays the bills and passes the time (and calms the mind riot) in between MOF shoots. As I lay me down to sleep, I prayed the lord my soul to keep… except for that fact that I sold that soul many many manic moons ago. However, after seeing how absolutely drop-dead fucking tits-brilliant every single sinful thing about this film has turned out, I might just be willing to buy it (the soul) back… and trade it to my fuzzy hot pink messiah man.

Holy Hells & Hallelujah!
x6x6x6,
Jaysen

TUNE IN TOMORROW TRUE BELIEVERS FOR PART IV OF THE HPJ III PRODUCTION BLOG… now filmed live in front of a studio audience.

www.madonesfilms.com
www.hotpinkjesus.com

  • Mad Ones Mental Medication Schedule

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